"By the time a player becomes a Grandmaster, almost all of his training time is dedicated to work on this first phase. The opening is the only phase that holds out the potential for true creativity and doing something entirely new." - Garry Kasparov
With a wrinkled face Willow looked over the box she carried. "Have you noticed the fanatic paintball players lately?"
Buffy was helping Willow move her things into her dorm room by carrying all the boxes filled with books. "I thought they'd have stopped after the third death."
"It'd be better if they didn't insist on midnight games. They've lost almost a dozen to demons." As Willow set her box down, she sighed at how much work it would take to get unpacked and settled. "That's all my stuff. Let's get your stuff into your room."
"That's okay. Parker, that cute guy we met this morning, offered to help. And who am I to refuse."
"Well while you're man snaring, I'll unpack and then go watch over Oz. First night in the cage he built in that crypt. Someone's got to make sure he stays put." Willow opened a box. "Stop by if you make it out to patrol."
"I'll be there round one. Later." Buffy walked off toward her own dorm room.
Eschewing his trademarks, Spike walked through Sunnydale, right past Xander without even a raised eyebrow. When it was all said and done, he'd show them they'd never win. Contrary to popular belief and a reputation he's worked hard to put out there, Spike was often patient. He survived by knowing when to create a spectacle and when to blend in, when to attack, and when to make slow strategic moves.
Right now he had one goal, defeat all his enemies. Fortune would have it, most of them were in Sunnydale. He'd seen his worst defeats here, but that was before he had a gambit that worked more like the perfect ace. One more day and he could start his campaign full force.
When he walked into his current lair all his minions stopped what they were doing and looked to him. He had everything from vampires to Fyarls. Spike had even wrangled an Old One, though trapped in a human body, making him only slightly more powerful than a normal vampire.
"How's the progress?" Spike asked Maloker.
"They have exceeded expectations and broke through the vault floor ten minutes ago." The chartreuse half human Old One walked Spike down the tunnel.
"Good."
"Before I allow you to obtain the Gem, I need you to live up to your end of the bargain. What's the name of the witch?"
"The deal was that I'd give you her name when I'd succeeded in my goal. The Gem is a game piece I need to get there. My goal is to crush the government that's been stealing demons and using them like a slave army, and the Slayer line. I'll make sure you get your witch when we've done that." Spike laughed at the cross look on Maloker's face. "And for as long as I hold your leash, you'll comply. Now see to the troops, make sure they're ready by morning."
Maloker turned and left without another word.
It was past one thirty in the morning when Buffy made it to the crypt, but as she closed in on it, she heard nothing. For a minute she thought maybe she'd gotten the wrong crypt, but the cage inside left no doubt. This was the right place, but the door to the cage was open and empty. Buffy combed over the crypt and found Willow's travel mug cracked in the corner, and traces of blood on the drilled open cage door.
A scuffling noise halted Buffy. She couldn't see anything, but Buffy knew something was there. A Slayer fast strike and her fist came into contact with what felt like a person's face and the oomph sounded like a person too. Just as she found them again, someone attacked her from behind, and another from her left, the right, and then every direction.
One invisible attacker, sure no problem, two she'd still get it done, but Buffy couldn't even tell how many there were. She had to work her way to the stairs and then she escaped.
In a basement room of Sunnydale General, a woman opened her eyes for the first time in months. With a wrench of her wrist, the link between the cuffs broke. Before the officers guarding her could respond, she'd grabbed the one's gun.
"You," she said to the other cop. "Gun, floor, and kicked here. Then strip."
He complied and when she had his uniform in hand, she shot them both in the head.
"Guess I get to play bad cop." Faith smirked as she left the hospital.
Willow woke up in a cell with all sides white tiles, except a large windowed wall. Her clothes were nowhere to be seen, and she tried to cover herself as men and women walked by the window. Some were in uniforms while others wore lab coats.
When one in a lab coat stopped in front of her cell to study her and take notes, she asked, "What's going on? Where am I? Where's Oz?"
She got no reply and the man in the coat just jotted down a few more things before walking out of her view.
The cell across from her was empty, and she couldn't try to see anything else without exposing herself. She tried to use magic but found that only made her lightheaded with no results, so she screamed. No one came or even paid attention to her.