Despite the fact that all they had done was some pretty PG-13 kissing, Buffy was mortified. Offering his hand, Dean helped her climb to her feet, but she could not meet his eyes, or Castiel's.

"This is worse than getting caught by your parents…" Buffy mumbled.

"Actually, it should alleviate your embarrassment to know that we are always watching," Castiel responded in his ever-so-ineffective way of showing consolation.

Both Buffy and Dean cringed at the thought.

"Not better," Dean sighed and shook his head.

"Is there something in particular you want?" Buffy inquired just to change the subject.

"I'm here so you may have a worthy foe against which you can properly assess the potential of the amulet."

"What? You think she was holding back, or something?" Dean snorted.

"Shelf your pride for a moment, Dean. I assure you, if she had not shown restraint, you would be a smear on this concrete floor."

"Were you taking it easy on me?" Dean asked, a little disappointed.

She merely shrugged, "… define restraint."

"Don't feel ashamed Dean," Castiel attempted to provide a bit of solace, "Your fragile human form is weak, and is not designed for this type—"

"Alright, I get it!" Dean threw up his hands walking to the side.

Turning towards Buffy, Castiel nodded.

"Buffy, do not be afraid to unleash the full extent of your enhanced abilities—I will heal."

"Um…what about me?" her eyes were wide with concern.

"In the event I should cause a life endangering injury, I promise that I will heal you immediately."

"Color me reassured," she smirked.

Producing his angel sword, Casiel brandished it ominously.

"What the hell is that for?" She gasped.

"For authenticity."

"Are you kid—"

But, Buffy could not finish her last question before the sword sliced dangerously close to her chest. Only just dodging the blade, she realized she would have much less time to react. Castiel was much, much faster. She could not so accurately predict his movements like she had been able to do with Dean. A swipe at her throat sent her careening backwards, crashing to her knees as she slid. When the sword slashed downward she was able to somersault away, but not cleanly. Slinging her by the arm he had been able to snatch, she went flying across the room into a heap of rusted out shelving units.

"Cas! That's enough!" Dean shouted, breaking towards the downed Buffy.

Pushing him out of the way, Castiel used his powers to pin him against a support column.

"I am well aware of what I am doing. She can handle this," his voice was unnervingly calm despite the circumstances.

Stepping slowly up to Buffy, who was bleeding from the forehead and the dorsal side of her hand, he leaned over her to speak, "Perhaps you're not properly motivated," and, he paused thoughtfully, "Try this."

Gently tapping her forehead with his middle and index fingers, her eyes shut abruptly. When they hesitantly reopened, she was no longer in the warehouse, nor did she have any memory of ever being there. She was standing in the chamber with the Seed of all Magic. But, she was not alone. Bathed in foul, red light eminating from the seed, the edges of Angel's face were sharp and menacing. Seizing her by the hair, he snapped her backwards. From her periphery, she could just make out the broken shape of Giles body, still and quiet on the floor.

The force in which Buffy connected with Castiel's midsection sent him sailing across the warehouse. Landing fiercely on an old conveyor belt, the dilapidated structure collapsed upon impact. Having fallen loose from his grip, Castiel's sword rolled to a stop at Buffy's feet. She kicked it away, the force of which stabbed it into the corrugated aluminum wall, like it had been impaled by a gale force wind. Then, made lightning fast by her amulet, Buffy disappeared into the shadows. Astonished, and left impotent to stop them, Dean struggled against the invisible restraints that bound him.

"God damn it, Cas! You proved your point!" he shouted, helpless to do much else, "What the hell did you do to her?"

Castiel's eyes darted around in anticipation, and he turned slowly in a circle, "She is relieving her most fearful memory—she was not strong enough to stop her adversary, resulting in the death of her Watcher."

"What?" Dean shouted, "That's barbaric. Make it stop!"

Already emerging from the dark, Buffy jumped Castiel from behind, toppling with him across the floor. Drawing herself up, she pulled a stake from the waist of her jeans, aiming directly for Castiel's heart—one that to her eyes belonged to Angel.

Castiel disappeared, reappearing a few feet away as Buffy crashed down onto the floor. When their eyes met again, she leapt into the air catching a low hanging support brace, and sent a swinging kick directly to his face. Tumbling backwards, Castiel rolled to his feet, and braced himself. As he stood she was upon him, spinning into a pirouette, connecting with his jawbone in a satisfying crack. He responded by using his Angel abilities to throw her into some manufacturing assembly equipment.

Bleeding, heaving, and absolutely pissed, Buffy watched as Angel staggered towards her, fangs bared and grinning through bloody stained teeth. Just a dozen steps away, Buffy exploded from the ground like a missile, gliding through the open space between them. She grasped Angel's neck, and the pair slammed against the concrete like a meteor strike. Waves of energy reverberated against the walls, shaking Dean.

Weakened from the concussion, Castiel's hold on Dean waned, and he broke towards them. Murderous rage in her eyes, Buffy lifted the stake she still clutched, prepared to finally dispatch Angel, when he reached up and tapped the space between her eyes. In the blink of an eye, Buffy was crouched in a small crater of shattered concrete, a broken and bloody Castiel laid out before her.

"Where did I go just now?" she asked, hesitantly standing to establish her surroundings- to identify exactly which reality she was experiencing.

The movement of the chain across her next sent her back into defense mode, as if she registered it as a threat, but Dean was already slipping it over her head. As it lifted from her skin he noticed a physical change in her stature. It was as if she withered, and her body could no longer support its own weight. Buckling at the knees, Dean managed to catch her by the waist.

"Are you satisfied?" Dean growled, tapping Buffy's cheek as her eyes rolled, eyelids fluttering.

"With the power of the potentials fueling that amulet, it will allow her to match even the most elder demons that hell may—"

"Would you just fix her?" Dean barked.

A shudder passed over her body as Castiel touched her cheek, the cuts and blemishes vanishing instantaneously. But, while her wounds had been mended, she did not come around.

"The Slayer may seem impregnable while wearing the amulet, but once removed it places immense stress on the body. It will take her some time to become accustomed to the strain that accompanies it."

"But, she'll be okay, right?"

"She requires rest, Dean," Castiel seemed exasperated at his tone, "but, I must return and share the results of our trial run."

"She isn't a science fair project!" Dean spat, testing her responsiveness as he cradled Buffy's crumpled form, "But, I forget... to you bastards, we're just a giant fucking ant farm, aren't we?"

Turning back to glare at Castiel, he was already gone, and Dean just shook his head. Propping her up with his left arm, he lifted her legs with his right. Carrying her fireman style to the car, his anger just festered in the quiet aftermath of what he had just witnessed. He was well beyond tired of being a game piece on the board of their infinite dick measuring contest. Laying her across the back seat, Dean slid his navy blue jacket off his shoulders, blanketing it over her back. Her head turned slightly, and he noticed she buried her face into the collar, inhaling in the scent embedded into the worn fabric. Unable to help himself, he brushed a few blond strands out of her eyes and behind her ear. Momentarily, the rage in him managed to subside. Something bloomed in his chest like a warm burst, and a small smile split his lips, but was just as quickly replaced with alarming frown. Sliding quickly out of the back seat, he shoved the door shut forcefully, and ran his hand down his face.

"Damn it… get it together, Dean."