The Slayer strode into the library, eyes scanning back and forth. Assured that the room was empty, she turned to her Watcher, who was behind the counter.

"Okay, Giles, give with the knowledge. What's going on?"

Giles frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The rain, that's what I mean. What is it?"

The librarian shrugged. "I assume it's some sort of freak meteorological pattern that has stalled over Sunnydale."

Buffy snorted. "As if."

Giles's eyes narrowed. "Do you think there's something supernatural about this downpour?"

"Aside from the fact that it's coming down like God's emptying his ice bucket? Yeah." Buffy took a deep breath. "I was on patrol last night-"

"Was there unusually heavy vampire activity? Did the storm cause graves to open? What sort of undead are connected to it?"

Buffy leaned back. "Okay, first, way too excited." She exhaled heavily. "There weren't any vamps, at least none that I saw. Also no special trolls or goblins at large. Really no uglies of any kind."

"Then what leads you to believe that the rain is supernatural?"

"My neck."

"Excuse me?"

The Slayer put a hand over her mouth, then took it down. "When I was patrolling, I noticed that my neck was... itchy."

"Your neck was itchy?"

"Giles." Buffy glared at him. "Don't repeat what I said back to me. It wasn't itchy like normal itch. It was…" She made a gesture with her hand as though she was trying to mold the air. "It was the marks… the bites."

"The bites?" The Watcher's eyes widened.

"Yeah. Where Trick and the Master, you know… it was… Okay, it wasn't exactly itchy. It was more tingly."

Giles looked thoughtful. "And this sensation, it was localized to… that area."

"Yeah." Buffy nodded slightly. "More than that. I could…' The Slayer groped for words. "It wasn't just on the surface." She made jabbing motions with an index finger. I could feel them going down into my neck, like a tunnel." Her hand dropped and she looked up at her Watcher. "This isn't just rain, Giles. It's something spookum."

The two police officers looked down at the body. One of them cocked his head to the side.

"Look at that," he said. "Price tag's still on it."

His partner frowned. "She bought the crowbar just to bash in her husband's head?"

"I d'know. I'm just saying it's a pretty new bar." He shook his head.

"Well," said his partner, "you have to give her some credit. Anybody can pull a trigger and feel bad about it later. You gotta be dedicated to skull a guy with a crowbar."

"And she made sure she got the job done." He turned around to the crime techs coming in the front door. "We got a vic here. Probable perp has been arrested and taken to the station."

"Any relationship between them?" the head tech asked.

"Husband and wife."

Oz and Willow sat on the sofa in the lounge. Attendance was sparse today; the evening's basketball game had already been cancelled. The couple sat and watched the water run down the windows.

"Are we even sure it's still raining?" Oz asked. "I mean, what if the air's reached saturation and it's just sort of, y'know, hovering out there?"

"You mean, like, we're walking through a literal wall of water?" Willow said, her attention focused on the rivulets coursing down the glass.

"Yeah."

"That would be an interesting question for Ms. Tyson in Earth Science." She glanced around and returned to the window. "How many people are gone today?"

"A lot."

She nodded. "Hey, what's in your ear? That's not a riddle. You've actually got something in your ear."

"Earplugs." Oz shrugged. "I wear 'em with Dingoes. It's the same principle. Blocks out what I don't want, but I can still hear the important stuff."

"Like my voice?" Willow snuggled next to him.

"Definitely."

Principal Snyder hurried past. His cell phone was glued to his ear; his bald head gleamed in the overhead lights.

Oz tilted his head to the side. "Why do you think Snyder's head is sweating?"

Willow shrugged. "Students aren't the only one's missing. A bunch of teachers aren't here. Maybe he's trying to find subs."

Matti Hollis sat in her dark living room, listening to the rain thrumming on the roof and looking at the door of the guest room. The door was ajar; through the opening Matti could keep an eye on the still form lying on the bed. She had called the school for a sub, then dozed fitfully on the sofa and in an armchair. She had drunk over a quart of tea with extra caffeine, but it made no difference:Cordelia Chase had not visibly moved or made an audible sound in over twelve hours.

Mattie went to the door and peered inside. There was a slow, regular rise and fall of what appeared to be a pile of laundry that had been dumped on the bed. The teacher went back to her chair; she sat leaned forward with elbows on knees and watched the door.

"What is this? Is it connected to the- to the project?"

The Mayor attempted to project unflappable confidence and lighthearted bonhomie, but a live-wire undercurrent lay just beneath the surface. He patted the surface of his already-clean desk with both hands, an unconscious calming gesture."

Florestan turned from the window. "No."

"Are you sure?"

The demon shrugged. "As sure as I can be. I don't think this has any direction or purpose. It just is. It's old magic."

"Well, where did it come from?"

Florestan shrugged again. "That's like asking where ocean currents and tides come from. I can offer explanations about the moon and rotational force and thermal migration, but all that does is let us pretend that we understand. There are enormous forces and you can learn to predict them and fool yourselves into thinking you comprehend them, but you're still powerless to either control them or protect yourself from them."

"Well, somebody's Mr. Sunshine." The Mayor sounded peeved.

"You did a good job last night." Trick dropped a sheaf of papers in his 'out' box and looked at Delilah. "Spirits seem a bit higher today."

"Thank you." Delilah glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to Trick. "May I speak freely?"

"As freely as anyone in this organization." The vampire leaned back in his chair. "Problems?"

"It's the rain," she said. "We went out last night to get three chumps. Should have been easy-peasy."

"You didn't tell me you encountered the Slayer," Trick said.

"We didn't, but after we had been out in that rain for, what, five minutes, I could feel everyone turning on each other. I had to stop two fights and we only got our guests back here alive because I threatened everyone within an inch of their lives." Delilah shook her head. "There's something really weird about this."

Willow took a deep breath and entered the tutoring room. Tyler was trying to balance a pencil on its eraser. He did not even look up as she came in. The pencil tipped over and he set it back on end.

"Fifty-three minutes and counting," he said.

Willow dumped her backpack on the table and slid into a chair. "I need to ask you a question."

"Ain't we done this before?" he drawled, looking askance at her. "I haven't thought about what I wanna be, I don't think I want more than this, and rhetorical questions just roll offa me. We up to date now?"

Willow scowled. "You.. you… shut up!" she said with all the force she could muster. "Okay, you're officially the king of I-don't-care land. As of this minute, I really don't care." Tyler's eyes popped open as she leaned toward him. "You remember that thing we did, that didn't go well, that I said I didn't want to do again? Uh-huh? Well, here's my question." She looked toward the door, then back. "If I did it again, how do I understand it? How do I make it make sense?"

Tyler shrugged, palms up. "I don't know. I told you, I've never done it myself."

"Then what good are you?" Willow snapped. "The one thing you've shown any interest in, and you're exactly zero help when you're needed."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." He placed his palms on the table. "Did you do it again? Did you do it by yourself?"

Willow breathed out hard through her nose. "Yes, but it was like last time. I was somewhere else, there, wherever there was, but I couldn't… I couldn't make any sense of it."

Tyler clasped his hands at the back of his neck and looked down at the table. "Well, what was it like."

"It's not like anything. It's just… it's like smoke or fog, or like bubbles. When you try to catch them they pop."

"Were you here or somewhere else?"

"I said I was somewhere else!" Willow's tone was sharp.

"No, no, I said it wrong. Where you were, was it like in another location, or was it like here?"

"How should I know? I couldn't really make out anything. The rain noise was loud and everything was-"

"Hold on a second. You could hear the rain?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I? The rain is everywhere."

Tyler's hands shook. "Did you know it was rain or did you just assume?"

Willow smirked. "Did I make an ass out of you and me? It was the rain. I'm sure."

"Why?"

"It had the same rhythm, or the same tone, or… or something. I knew it was the rain."

"Did it sound just like the rain?"

"Yes! Why do you keep-" Willow's mouth dropped open. "It wasn't the same. I mean, it was, I could tell it was the rain, but it didn't sound exactly like it does now. It sounded like…" She took a deep breath. "It sounded like what I was hearing in my head."

"Huh?"

She ignored him. "Something's inside the rain. I could kind of hear it, but when I went there, whatever that is, it's what I heard."

"Okay, you've lost me."

Willow slapped the table softly. "But when I tried to focus on it, I got kicked out, just like before." She looked at Tyler. "How do I stop that? It's like one of those stupid 3D pictures-the harder you look for it, the harder it is to see. You have to look through it. So, how do I look through over there?"

Tyler blinked, stunned. "I'm kinda behind, but…" He spread his hands out on the table. "You said you could hear the rain-"

"Whatever's inside the rain," Willow corrected.

He waved her off. "You had a focal point, okay, but when you tried to grab onto it, you got booted out. Right?" She nodded. "You're… you don't belong there. It's going to try and kick you out. You either have to slide into it, or… or… I don't know, organize it in some way you recognize."

"How do I do that?"

Tyler shrugged. "I'm not sure. What are you good at?"

Willow tucked her hair behind her ear. "Lots of stuff. Not bragging, just the truth."

"But really, really good at?"

She shrugged. "Computers. I really like computers."

"Okay." He looked around the room. "How do computers work?"

"That's a pretty complicated subject."

"No." He took a deep breath. "How do they work? I mean, what makes a computer run?"

Willow frowned. "You mean the code?"

"I guess. I know how to use my Playstation. I don't know how it works."

"It runs on a code."

"What's the code?"

Willow huffed out a breath, exasperated. "Anything software based runs on a binary code-"

"Which means what?"

"A binary code is all ones and zeros. Computers aren't really very smart. Think of the code as a series of questions that all have to be answered yes or no, or on or off, or one and zero."

Tyler nodded. "So, it's math."

"Yeah."

He snapped his fingers. "Don't some people think that there's a formula that defines the world?"

Willow thought for a moment. "The Fibonacci sequence? The golden ratio?"

"That's it!" He pointed at her. "Maybe that fibber's sequence could help."

"How?"

"I don't know. Maybe recite it or think about it when you're there?"

Willow frowned. "Maybe." She gathered up her books. "I gotta go."

"Wait." He held up his hands. "Time isn't up."

Willow looked back at him. "Sure, now you care."