Just where we left off. Everyone's staring at Willow who's holding a stack of old tomes. As she puts them down, Willow looks at Spike and her eyes kind of bug and then she smiles, "Well, look at you! All corporeal and solid. And not on fire! I'm liking the lack of flammable-y…ness."

Spike just kind of looks at her for a minute. His thoughts are along the lines of, "Jesus, it's Willow." but a good portion of it is blank shock. After a bit more staring and with an uncomfortable smile and head bob, Willow says, "Gee. This reunion stuff is fun." This snaps Spike out of his reverie and he clears his throat, "Hey, Red."

"Do we hug? Is there hugging? Or is physical contact not good?"

Before Spike can answer, Willow looks to Trista, "You're Trista? I have a message from Giles for ya." She hands Trista the note who takes it and unfolds to read it. As she starts to read she motions to Willow, "Have a seat, uhm…"

"Willow."

"Right. Willow," Trista suddenly stops and looks at Willow. She recognizes the name. As she looks, she realizes of course it had to be Willow! How could she hear so much about Willow and not recognize her from the start? She's loosing her touch. "Dude, I'm sorry. If I'd known, all the staring and the awkwardness and the thing would've been prevented."

After saying that, everyone looks to Spike waiting for the inevitable comment. Spike, lost in his own thoughts, looks up at them and sees their expectant expressions, "What?"

Trista shakes her head and begins reading the note to herself while addressing Willow, "It's cool that you came. I heard about you when I was in England… 'Hope that she can help with the problems that will arrive…' Not at all a party dampener is he? '…magicks are powerful things…' Blah, blah, etcetera, etcetera. Could his longs be more windy?" Everyone looks at her with a collective "Eh?" in their eyes. Trista explains, "It was a play on the saying 'long winded'. His longs are windy. Get it?"

They, in unison, say, "Oh."

"Yo, Willow?" begins Chloe, "Turns out that this is my first apocalypse and the whole Pure slash Impossible screwing thing, okay I can deal but now there's four million lives at stake and you said you have an idea and, you know, it seems we're crunched for time so I think we should get to your freaking idea, yes?"

"Bout time someone said it," says Spike.

"Oh. Okay. Well, we still really need to have the big orbular redirectory thing because if we don't then, hey, world ending but the original ritual, not a good idea."

"So no mystical sex?" asks Trista.

"No mystical sex."

Trista grins at Spike and snaps her fingers in mock disappointment. This makes Spike smile a little.

"But what we have to do is very simple on paper," Willow continues, "We just have to make a new one."

"Can you- can you do that?" asks Sam in slight awe.

"Sure she can," answers Chloe, "You can, right?"

Willow becomes a little flustered, "Well, uh, well. I mean, yeah. In theory. I'm sure I-- Trista, can we talk?"

"Um, yeah, sure."

They move off to the kitchen and speak in slightly hushed tones.

"Well, see the thing is that I'm still a little shaky about the big magic thing."

"This from the girl who channeled magicks into, like, four million people? Simultaneously?"

"Well, I mean, yeah I did that. Whoo me but this is big."

"But you'll be okay. Sooner or later you're gonna have to face up to your insane power."

"Well, I mean. Okay, yeah. I guess."

Trista smiles at Willow's sincerity and shakes her head, "You'll be fine. Look, it's been a long night and a long day… pretty much a long month so maybe we should just take a break into unconsciousness."

"You go ahead. Is it okay if I work on your computer? There was an incident with mine and atmosphere fusion. We shouldn't speak of it."

Trista laughs and nods, "War room's all yours. We have a PC and Chloe has a laptop."

"Thanks."

They move back to the living room to meet Chloe and Sam. Willow moves to her books and Trista moves toward the bedrooms, "If you're not going to sleep, Willow's in charge."

Chloe, also pretty tired, opts to go to her room. Sam, suddenly energized, volunteers to Trista, "I'm good here," he addresses Willow, "So you're witch? I didn't know those really existed. Are all these books yours? You must be really smart."

Willow smiles at him and crinkles her nose, "Well thanks! If you think you can, I'd love some help looking through the books for a ritual. They're in my notes there."

"Sure. No problem," Sam grabs the notes and the books a little overzealously and trips a bit on his way to the chair. Willow smiles at him and he smiles a big goofy one back. Trista smiles and calls behind her as she leaves, "She's gay."

Sam, not getting it, calls back, "That is so intoler--" he looks at Willow and sees the unapologetic look on her face, "Oh."

Now thoroughly embarrassed, Sam digs into his work.

Chloe and Trista are sitting on Chloe's bed conversing. Trista's a bit tense. Chloe asks, "You okay?"

"I don't know. This is all so surreal."

"Yeah."

"I mean, all this stuff happens and then I'm the guy who's got to be the field agent and take care of all this. And now we're on what really resembles square one. No. Not even. It's more like a negative square."

"You're doing good. Besides there's nothing good on cable."

Trista laughs, "Thanks." Chloe takes out a cigarette, lights it and takes a long drag. Trista crinkles her nose, "Erm. Ew. Night."

She moves to the hall and into her room. She starts to unbutton her pants and take of her shirt. She turns around and screams, "Gyeh!" Spike's lying on her bed sans jacket, grinning.

"I didn't see you."

"Really? I sure saw you, well almost."

"Shut up," she says as she turns to her walk in closet and closes the door with a snap. She begins to undress while calling, "You weren't even going to say anything were you? You were gonna just sit there and watch. Just completely take advantage of my--"

"Blondness?"

Spike pulls out a cigarette as Trista continues, "Do you really want to start," she comes out in plaid pajama pants and a white tank, "an argument about hair color right now?" She moves to him just as he's about to light his cigarette. She pinches the cigarette between her forefinger and her thumb. They lock eyes and stay that close for about a second longer than they should. She slips it out of his mouth and throws it out the open window onto the balcony and closes the window. Spike scoffs at her, "Nazi."

"Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Are you surprised?" she jokes, grinning.

"Well, love, if I can't smoke, what're we going to do," he pauses and runs his tongue over his teeth, "to keep my mouth occupied?"

Trista smiles seductively and saunters over to him. She sighs contemplating the question "Oooohh, I don't know." She then deftly kicks him off the bed, her flirting done, "You seem to keep it occupied enough with the talking thing."

"You know you should learn to take a joke."

"And you should learn not to smoke in my room."

"It's your fault I'm even here. If you would've gotten all you're bloody facts straight--"

"I will beat you with a chair until you can do nothing but twitch. Because kicking your ass? Fun for the whole family."

"Could you be wound any tighter! You--"

CRASH! Their argument is cut short by a gigantic, fierce demon that comes crashing through the window from the balcony, taking some of the wall with him. His muscles, sharp and harsh, glint in the shadows of the night. He walks on the balms of his feet, which more resemble eagle-like talons. His eyes are also fierce. Clear like glass, they seem to look straight through you. Fully erect, he stands just over eight feet tall. His claws resemble that of a preying mantis. Looking at Trista, he roars, "The Impossible lives. The Harbinger dies."

The demon takes a swipe at Trista and cuts a gash into her stomach. She falls with a scream to the floor. Spike then steps in, addresses the demon, "Shouldn't you be trying to kill blokes your own size?"

"I'll kill you all."

Trista looks up at the demon with pure terror in her eyes but soon the image becomes blurry. She's loosing a lot of blood. Spike takes a swing at the demon, but it swats him aside like a rag doll. He's dazed but not unconscious.

Willow, Sam and Chloe come rushing in. Willow holds them back and puts out her palm and screams, "Arripio!" A fierce red energy shoots from her hand and glues the demon in place. Willow screams to Trista, "What do we do!"

Trista, using all her strength, croaks, "Run. Grab all you can and run."

They do just that. Spike gathers Trista up in his arms and moves to the door as the demon roars and tries to pull himself free. Willow and Sam frantically gather up notes and books that were spread around the living room. Chloe runs to her room and grabs her secret stash of money and her checkbook. She's stuffing it in her pockets when she passes Trista's bedroom and sees the demon start to break free, his arms first. Chloe calls, "Uh, guys?"

Sam closes Chloe's laptop with a snap.

"GUYS!"

Before they can even react, Chloe comes sailing into the living room. Dazed, she says to them, "He's free".

Spike, still holding Trista, regards this in horror but then takes the lead, "Everyone, if you enjoy breathing, lets go!" He kicks out the door and they all move out, Willow and Sam helping Chloe along, as the demon comes, roaring, pissed.

They run as fast as they can down the hall, and into the elevator. The doors closing as the demon trundles down the hall. They are just closing when the demon rears back his fist. The doors close. But then, the demon punches the door, leaving a huge dent. The gang screams and falls to the floor.

On the street, Willow is first, Chloe and Sam in the middle, Spike, holding an unconscious Trista bringing up the rear. They're moving as fast as they can. Willow looks around and asks Chloe, "Do you guys have a car?" Chloe points across the street to a blue Jeep, "There."

They get in, Chloe driving, and speed off. Willow, in the back with Spike, is trying to quell the bleeding, "She needs a hospital." Sam looks to her and asks, "Can't you just like, you know, zap it?" Willow shoots a look at him, "I'm not a microwave. Health spells are dangerous. She needs a doctor."

Suddenly, Trista comes too and looks as if she's choking on something. She looks to Spike, who reacts, "Her pulse is speeding up." Willow, trying her best at calm, "She's going into hypovolemic shock. We need a doctor now."

Chloe's speeding down the highway, everyone's thoroughly wigging. Sam, in a state of misplaced freakdom, screams at Chloe, "You need to slow down! You'll kill us all."

Looking at Spike in the rearview mirror, she says, "Not us all."

Spike, cradling Trista like a baby, feels her pulse starting to slow and says to Willow, "Will. It's slowing down."

Trista is sweating and is very pale. She looks to Spike and barely musters, "Who…?" Willow tries to comfort her, "Shhh. It's okay. We'll get you a doctor. Everything is gonna be okay."

Chloe slows down and screams in frustration. She says in a very angry tone, "Traffic jam." Willow looks up, eyes black with cold, fierce anger and says to the traffic, "Move." Extra lanes seems to grow out of nowhere and the cars are moved to them. Chloe slams down on the accelerator and speeds off into the night.

"Oh god."

"What, Spike?"

"She's not breathing."