"Guys, I've got something!" a tomboyish Slayer, Amy, called. She had been researching Umbrella Corporation all morning, trying to find information about the virus.

Andrew was the first to reach her, one hand stuffed so deep into a box of Umbrella Delite cookies it seemed the box was bottomless. "Numdt?" he asked, mouth full, spraying little cookie bits everywhere. He swallowed and corrected himself. "What?"

Amy took one glance at the box and slapped Andrew.

"Ow!" he cried. "What the hell was that for?"

"You're supplying money to the company that sends us Apocalypse In A Tube?" she stormed off.

"They were in the cupboard! Don't blame me, blame Canada!"

(XD reference to South Park)

Amy ignored him and turned to the Slayers. "Guys, the Hive, an underground research facility in Raccoon City, was where this all started. Says here that a man named Spence was going to steal the virus, and he threw a vial of the disease into a room, leading the Red Queen, the automated security system in the facility, to kill everyone. But they didn't stay dead, as the T-Virus reanimated the dead tissue, but it made them hunger for flesh. What's more, Spence. . ." she paused, and watched the other Slayers as they trembled, giving the room the feel of a slumber party, where everyone sits around and tells scary stories. She continued softly, "Spence was Alice's husband."

Gasps filled the room, the loudest from Andrew, who still munched on the box of cookies timidly.

Amy shrugged. "It doesn't matter - this is a site of rumors. The head of Umbrella said that all of this was a hoax, to get attention."

"I don't know, it's pretty scary . . ." sighed one girl. "And Buffy wouldn't send us to fight imaginary creatures. . ."

"Well, do you believe it?"

The girl shrugged. "I dunno."

The room broke out into cries of revolt.

"I don't think we should even bother going to get the Slayer and her little buddies!" called one girl.

"Don't you remember, Sylvia? You were once one of her buddies." another girl screamed.

The cafeteria broke out into a fight. And not a cat fight with hair-pulling and soft slapping; a full war, putting Slayer against Slayer, with punches and kicks and girls being thrown across the length of the room.

"Girls, girls!" Andrew called weakly. "Girls. . ." he lowered his voice disappointedly. Then he thought about how Buffy had put him in charge, trusted him of all people, an ex-super-villain, to lead these girls into a Search and Rescue mission when the time came. "GIRLS!" he screamed, and Slayers everywhere stopped moving, their fists poised in mid-air, panting hard, listening to him. "Girls, I'm in charge of this operation. I will not allow you to split yourselves like that evil half-vanilla half-chocolate ice cream! I'm the ruler of this Team, and I say no fighting!"

For a moment all the girls were quite, silenced by amazement. Amy released the arm she was twisting, and the girl rubbed it, her mouth gaping in shock.

Finally someone spoke, softly, and everyone winced as she broke the silence with her Transylvanian accent.

"Vow."