Chapter two: Lockdown

The sky was so bright it was blinding. He didn't remember the sun being this painful as a human. Did he fall asleep outside? It was; after all, where he remembered being last. That's what this had to be; he must have been sleeping outside, and that's why the sun seemed so unnaturally bright. Spike was really only use to seeing it after taking shelter. It must dim the effects. Suddenly, reason and logic surfaced. He couldn't be outside right now beneath the blueness of the sky; he'd be a big pile of dust if that were the case. Clearly, disoriented from whatever was going on, that obvious fact had slipped his mind. Turning his face away from what felt like bright flames embedded in the ceiling, Spike took notice of his surroundings, as the blurriness of his vision became less intense.

Giving a medical feeling to the room; the walls were white, or at least they would've been, if it weren't for all the long dried blood and goo that was splattered on them. Furniture was tipped over, as many broken objects were carelessly left on the floor. It appeared a massacre had taken place. A sick feeling came over Spike when he suddenly pieced together why it looked this way. Demons had been freed to kill their captors and both parties took pleasure in offing the other side. This had taken place years ago, but Spike had taken a trip to this facility with Buffy only weeks before. They hadn't made their way into this particular room, but he was uncomfortably familiar with the Initiative Labs.

Making an attempt at standing up, terror rose in him with realization that he was securely bound onto a cool metal table. Must be the kind the G.I. Gits had used back in the day, when they put a chip in his head. Back then though, Spike had at least been allowed clothing; this time was shamefully different. He started to struggle against the restraints that held his arms and legs down, in vain. He kept trying to convince himself that his super strength was enough to break that which held him in place; refusing to think about that they had been constructed for his exact kind. Still, though getting more and more sure of this, Spike never let up in his attempts at escape. He was not about to let himself become an experiment again.

Then a voice came from behind him, in a chillingly calm tone that Spike had come to recognize. The night before came rushing back, as he remembered seeing the cold unforgiving eyes of the principal. Now here they both were, Spike's ignorance having led him into this trap. Wood stepped in front of him looking more pleasant than he was willing to be. The man went so far as to greet his victim with a smile, "Hello Spike, I know the treatment you're receiving is less than cordial and I really try to be fair with people. But you're not people, are ya Spike?" Now leaning over the table Wood got in Spike's face letting his warm breath hit him while continuing to speak. "I believe you and I were in the middle of a conversation before you took your leave. You got to say your piece, but I really didn't get to say mine."

"Believe you were sayin' your piece while burnin' my face with a cross, Mate." Spike commented evenly.

Spike felt the intensity of Wood's glare as it carried on for a good many seconds, before he shoved himself backward away from the table where his captive lay helpless. Before Spike had time to get too comfortable, a wooden cross was slammed down on his smooth chest, as rage replaced the pleasant exterior that had been on the Principal's face. Holding the chosen torture device without amnesty, Wood's voice boomed throughout the room as his body shook with anger. He looked as though he might tear the vampire's head off with his bare hands, "You chose to kill your mother Spike! You did that! Just like you killed my mother!" His hand didn't let up from the cross that was now making a piercing sizzling sound against Spike's skin. Spike bit back a yelp with knowledge that this wasn't the worst pain he had ever felt and was most likely not the worst that was in store. Wood carried on, his voice only getting louder the longer he burned his victim, "All that pain and ache that ate away at you, after what it was you did; you caused that same pain and ache to plague countless people. You think we're alike? You think we both loved our mothers so much we'd do anything for them? What you did wasn't for your Mom, it was for yourself! That's not love Spike! Turning someone into a monster isn't love; it's insidious! It's demonic! The fact that you could rationalize your actions while carrying a soul, it's all the proof that I need to see that a monster is a monster; nothing will ever change that!"

Lifting the cross off Spike's chest now, Wood examined the burned flesh. It appeared as though the cross had eaten away at most layers of Spike's skin. A small smirk greeted his face while laying the object down. Knowing that his actions couldn't bring back his mother; Wood couldn't deny that this was second best. This was a moment that he had been dreaming of; a story he'd make up in his mind every night helping him fall asleep. Wood was going to savor every minute of it; he was going to make sure it lasted long after the vampire begged him for a dusting. After all, Spike's countless victims didn't get death right away; not all of them, why should Spike be given any special privileges? By the time Wood was through with him, death would be the special privilege.

While Wood had been shouting a few harsh truths at him, Spike had tried not to listen. Having just made peace with what happened with his mother, that was a wound he had hoped to keep mended. It was bleeding now, as culpability stung his emotions. He didn't want to cry over his now long deceased mother now. There would be another time for that. Right now, Spike had to make sure that Wood didn't suspect his getting to him. The last thing he wanted to do was give the wanker any sort of satisfaction in this, "Tell it to your therapist. Probably beyond their help."

Before he knew it Wood was looming over him once again with a death grip around his chin, forcing Spike to look directly into his eyes, "If the roles were reversed and I were in your position, I'd make damn sure I kept my mouth shut. Tight!" Letting go of his face, Wood patted Spike lightly on the cheek. Stepping away from the table he went about his exploration of the room in hopes of finding other goodies to play with.

Taking in a deep unneeded breath, Spike tried to calm himself down. He wasn't certain if it was fear of Wood that made him most nervous or if it was the memories of being back in the Initiative. Most likely both were taking their toll. One side of this he could remain rational about. Wood was a human being. A human being was hardly a match for a vampire, so if he could hoist himself off this table he'd be out of harms way, where Wood could find himself at his mercy. Only this time Spike wasn't willing to show any. The last time they had gone head to head; once he was fully in the game, he had made Wood say "Uncle". Feeling bad over why the man was reeling from rage, benevolence had been granted. Spike would not make that mistake again.

All he needed to do was get up. Simple as it sounded; it was not something that could be done. Glancing around the room besides him, there was nothing within reach that he could take hold of. Deep down he knew that if there were, his arms were pinned so tightly he'd never be able to reach anything anyway. Still, he had to try. Once more he wriggled around, doing his best to ignore the burning on his chest. A little bit of pain was not going to stop him, but only motivate him further. No one made Spike vulnerable and lived to tell about it! His confidence flew out the door as a worrying thought ignited. Why did he have to be in The Initiative? The First was playing to win and It knew every weakness It could prey upon. Not only did this place make Spike feel helpless, it reminded him that while he was here that's exactly what he was. Every tool was at Wood's disposal that made being a vampire a living nightmare.

Wandering back over, Wood took notice of the struggling creature before him. A sense of happiness ascended, one which had only been felt a single time before; catching Spike to begin with. It was true; these were the best days Wood had ever spent, and quite possibly, the best days of his life. He'd look back on them with fondness and fulfillment. For now it was the present and there was much work to be done. As happy as he was in this moment, it was kind of bittersweet. Nothing would bring back the beauty and grace that had been his mother; though avenging her death felt like a good substitute. Wood fought back a tear knowing there wasn't time for that, however overwhelming it became. His life's work was finally accomplished. Or soon it would be; there was no need to get ahead of himself. Having been bombarded with feelings, Wood needed to get his focus back. Handing out Spike's punishment called for the right attitude. He couldn't very well be crying over the bloodsucker and expect to strike fear. Focusing on what had happened; the snapping of his mother's neck; anger swelled up replacing all else. Wood was ready for vengeance.

Grabbing a fistful of Spike's hair; he yanked his head back, forcing his eyes to look directly at him. "I want you to feel all the pain that everyone you ever hurt felt when you were tormenting them."

Spike gazed at him seriously, not through trepidation, but sincerity, "I feel it every day. Price of carryin' a soul."

Furiously, Wood slammed Spike's head down hard against the table, causing everything around Spike to feel a bit fuzzy for a few moments. Wood stomped back over to the right hand side of the table. Seizing Spike's right hand by means to crush it, poison shot out of Wood's mouth, "This hand took my mother's life! This hand!" Wood squeezed it harder with emphasis, "Is it suddenly someone else's hand, now that you've got a soul? Is that what you're saying Spike? Is it?" Wood's eyes had never been so dangerous before and it was quite possible the wildness that was locked in there, could be violent enough to kill Spike.

For once Spike bit back any comments he had to make, any explanation that he could give. It didn't matter to his captor what it meant to have a soul, he didn't want to understand how it separated him from other beasts; the beast that he once was. It wasn't Spike anymore, but that wasn't going to make a difference now. It never would.

"Answer me!" Wood grabbed onto Spike's hair once again after being greeted with silence. If he tugged any harder Spike's hair would have torn off into Wood's hand.

Spike could only shake his head; the little that it could move, given the strength behind Wood's hold. Wood's anger didn't ease up, but spoke with greater intensity, as he took hold of Spike's sore hand, clutching it no lighter than before, "This moved! It moved, Spike! Because you wanted it. Both of them. Both of your hands moved. Together they snapped her neck!" Releasing his hand he took his own and squeezed both of Spike's cheeks between his index finger and his thumb with as much force as he could put behind them, "Those fangs! They bit all those people. All those poor innocent people! Their blood is in your body! Bet your soul didn't flush that out of your system, now did it? No, it didn't. No, oh no it didn't! They're all still in there Spike! They're all still in you! I say it's time we bring them on out."

Soggy grass was spread throughout the graveyard, causing ruin to any shoes that walked upon it. The storm appeared to have passed, but evidence of its encounter was scattered all over; making for a very messy slay. As the moon hung low, which lit up the scene; running in the dark became a lot easier, though having been at this for a few years, Buffy hardly needed the help. The ground; however, served to be a problem. Every step caused the slayer to sink deeper down into the muck. While doing her best to ignore this, brisk air slapped at Buffy's face as she pursued a new risen fiend. The vampire was fast; even with the grimy condition of the ground they were trudging through. Buffy leapt through the air, landing on her enemy's back, causing them both to take a fall. Quickly flipping the vampire over face side up; she raised her stake ready for the plunge. Instead, she received a powerful punch to the face, knocking her on her back. Her enemy stood up as she did the same, not hesitating to charge forward. As Buffy jumped up to kick the female vampire back to the ground, she caught hold of Buffy's leg, throwing her backward. She fully expected to hit the muddy grass; and did, surprisingly taking down someone behind her.

Immediately, Buffy recognized the woman she had been thrust into, but had no time for greetings; there was a fight to finish. Standing up, she couldn't help but notice the mud that covered her clothes now. She looked at the evil menace responsible; mouth agape, "I hope you have the money to pay my dry cleaning bill! These were new clothes!" She angrily threw out a punch, momentarily forgetting about her guest's arrival.

"Surprised you can patrol on your own. I expected the cavalry to be tagging along. Didn't think you could get by without them." The newcomer strolled over casually to where Buffy was combating, but didn't interfere.

Glancing over for only a moment, Buffy focused back in on the battle. She took hold of the vampire, securing her arms around the creature, holding her in one place, "You know Faith, you could help out at any time."

The other Slayer pointed at the vampire being held firmly with fake politeness, "Oh, may I?" Revealing her own stake, Faith shoved it into their enemy's heart fiercely; taking a step back to avoid getting dust all over her already muddy clothes. Her outfit was dirty enough from being slammed into the grass.

Buffy clapped her hands getting any dusty remains off, "As you can see a lot has changed around here." Her words were sarcastic as she gave a slight roll of the eye.

"Oh yeah, you fight alone now. Brave girl." Faith wasn't too sure how to act around Buffy. They hadn't left on the best terms, but she kept her insecurities on the inside. She wasn't one to show her true feelings. The walls she had up around her had been built a long time ago and very few had ever penetrated them. Coming back to Sunnydale took a lot of courage; considering how her last visit had gone, but it looked like she was needed here. Faith wasn't going to apologize for how things went. It was what it was; there was no taking it back. She'd fight the good fight; she didn't need friends to do that. Faith didn't need anyone.

"I'm not alone. You're here. I guess I planned it right," Buffy shoved the stake she intended on using; before Faith had shown up, back into her pocket. Heading out of the cemetery, she carried on the conversation, "I think we can call it a night. The way my patrol has been going, it looks like that's all the action we're going to be getting." The last time she had seen Faith there had been a lot of anger. Angel had stood between them, saving Faith from a world of hurt. Now, Buffy didn't have time for the past, especially when it was quite possible there wouldn't be a future. She constantly had to look at the big picture, and that told her to be grateful to have another key warrior on her team. Bygones needed to be bygones; the world depended on it.

Following, Faith gazed around in surprise; seeing for the first time how dead everything appeared to be. "Big evil's going down? Figured the place would be hopping." She tensed up waiting for the obvious insult to be dealt. There was no way Buffy was going to let it slip by. Faith had been evil; she would know something about that, right? But Buffy never said it. Things had changed in Sunnydale; it wasn't just the side of evil that was different now.

Walking the path she had come to know so well over the years, Buffy took her time. Doing this for as long as she had, getting home blindfolded wouldn't have been a problem. Tonight she had company, and despite their rough patch it was welcomed. Buffy still couldn't shake that feeling she had, something more drastic was about to happen. An event she felt the need to keep watching out for, but the problem was there were no clues on what it could be. All she had was a feeling, but nothing more specific than that. It was eerie, causing her to be grateful to have someone walking along with her; even if that person happened to be Faith, "The First is making preparations instead. Everything and everyone around here knows the end is coming. They're busy picking sides and preparing for the big showdown, or they're getting out of town."

"Getting out of town would be the more appealing option. Good way to save yourself. From what Willow tells me, The First doesn't need any more recruits."

Buffy sighed and folded her arms by way of comforting herself, "No, it really doesn't."

Looking over at Buffy's demeanor, Faith felt concern start to fester. She had always seemed so sure of herself, able to come up with some kind of a plan; even when Faith had never been on board. She wasn't used to seeing Buffy like this. Faith had seen her petrified before. Back when Faith had taken a life and their whole partnership fell to hell, that was the most terrified she had ever seen Buffy, but she still had ideas on what to do. What Faith was witnessing now was someone slightly more reserved and unsure; and in that moment she knew this evil was like one the world had never gone up against before. There was a real chance they'd lose and that failure was riding on the blonde slayer. "You think this thing is going to get past Sunnydale?"

"I hope not, but I don't know. Every apocalypse we've gone up against has been beaten back. This is different. We're talking about what evil comes from. It's seen what we've got and it's not trembling in the slightest. We're slayers Faith. We're suppose to be what evil has nightmares about, but instead they're keeping me up; every single night. I keep up morale around the potentials. I tell them that we have a chance, but I really don't know if that's true. I can give speeches 24/7 about how it'll be us in the end. At this point, it's really not looking that way." It was strange finding herself confiding all of this in Faith, but she had asked for the truth; if she was going to be fighting in this war, she deserved to get it. "I'm not saying we're doomed. I'm not saying that we can't win. We just need more. If I could figure out where to pick up some extra power, that'd be great." Buffy offered a small laugh.

"Well hey; you got another teammate on board, B. That's got to tip the scale a little."

As they walked up to the front door of her house, she looked at her with authenticity in her smile, "Welcome back Faith."

***********************************************************************

Observing the scene that lay before it, The First couldn't help but find the whole thing rather cute. There they were; a house full of little girls; pretending each were a big bad slayer. Some practiced their kicks, others flipped stakes while catching them with a free hand, and the less confident huddled in a corner, discussing newly memorized battle tactics. This was the almighty force to be reckoned with? Hardly a challenge at all; maybe the First shouldn't have kidnapped one of their stronger fighters, seeing the patheticness of this scene that hadn't improved since its last visit. It almost felt obligated to lend a hand. Almost; slowly a smile crept up on the face that didn't belong to It, the smell of defeat was in the air. To finally be able to take down good once and for all; it didn't matter how easy this was coming together; the end result was the only thing of importance. In fact, the First Evil suspected this so called war would only take a few minutes, when it finally came down to it. After all the months of blood, sweat, and tears each and every one of them put into preparing for this war; defeat coming in the blink of an eye could only be icing on the cake.

Hearing voices from outside the front door, it was evident that Buffy was home. Willow had informed everyone of the potential who had been put into the hospital. It appeared Caleb was getting a jump start on things in Sunnydale, much to the First's liking. Judging from the obvious conversation Buffy was having, it looked as though Faith had caught up with the head slayer. Another warrior thrown into the mix, but it still wasn't enough. That was the theme It was noticing around here. A theme that from the sound of the discussion Buffy was having, she was picking up on as well. The First was certain they could be taken down swiftly, still It was happy to know their opponents had brains after all; smart enough to see that there was nothing too impressive here, but only laughable.

Backing towards the kitchen out of sight, the First listened as Faith was greeted by some familiar faces as well as new ones. Though It were dressed as Spike, a certain level of discretion needed to be taken. It needed Buffy to believe that Spike was still here for as long as possible; even if what had been learned from this little visit, was that Evil's enemy was benign, you could never know your counter too well. In case of any surprises, the First was pleased to play the role of the spy, as well as keeping Buffy away from performing a rescue. As long as the vampire with a soul stayed out of this war, Buffy and her Slayerettes really didn't stand a chance.

***********************************************************************

Deep cuts ran all over Spike's body, forming a pool of blood, which dripped off the table and down to the floor. He had lain there quietly; despite the process being a slow and stinging one, but showing signs of pain was satisfaction he had promised himself he would not give.

During the time it took to make these lacerations, Wood had grown quiet. With Spike keeping his mouth shut tight, the silence was deafening. It served as a reminder of how alone Spike was in this. Nikki Wood had died alone; now Spike would be punished with the same comfort of no one by his side.

Spike watched the torturer at work as he sliced his body vigorously. Not wanting to admit it to even himself; he was becoming more afraid. It was starting to matter less that Wood was human; had Spike been free he'd still be able to bash his head in, but he was not free. Fury came to the surface as his jaw set angrily; Wood needed to watch out for when his impending release came. Play his sadistic games while he was still able, because once Spike broke out he'd drain the Principal dry; then he'd finish off by blowing the Initiative away once and for all. The image replayed in his mind over and over again; the sweet thought of being victor in the end would carry him through.

Deciding to break the silence, Spike managed to find his voice again. He wanted to assure Wood that nothing he could do would be cause for distress, "Scent is rather comfortin'. Care to tell a fella what kind of cologne you've got on?"

Wood forcefully backhanded Spike, hardly able to make it sting, but the point was not the pain; it was letting him know who was in control. He gripped Spike's hair in his hand, forcing their eyes to meet, "I believe I requested that you remain quiet. Considering all the resources I've got access to in this place, it'd be wise of you to honor it. Is this matter clear now?"

He had pushed his head so far back that Spike couldn't have responded anyway. Wood nodded his head, eyes still intensely fixed on Spike. He spoke in almost a whisper. "Good."

Glancing over Spike's body, Wood started to tingle all over with delight. There was so much left to cover. Spike's body was masked by cuts, but that wasn't nearly enough of a punishment; it was hardly a slap on the wrist. The room they were situated in filled Wood with more opportunities than he'd ever have been able to come up with on his own. There were more than enough supplies here to make the vampire scream out in agony, which in turn Wood could use to punish him for daring to make a sound. A sadistic grin formed once more at the thought. Spike having to suffer in complete silence. Wanting to howl out, but knowing it'd only be worse if he did; still unable to control the urges anyway. The thought of Spike's sore abused body; the agony he'd be in, only to have more reigned down on him; always unable to appease his torturer. More pain in silence and added pain for releasing the desires of his throat. Wood wanted to get back to this right away! The image was too exciting to remain only a fantasy.

With an idea in mind, Wood went and turned on the oven in the back of the room, and turned menacingly back towards Spike, "Do you know what heresy is? Back in the day; even before your day, if someone was accused of this, the church would have them burned at the stake. Joan of Arc is a perfect example. She claimed to receive messages from God; well I'm sure you know the story. The details aren't of importance. Not really. It's the end result of the matter that I'm more interested in," he looked at Spike darkly, "and you should be too. You see, she was accused of heresy, or blasphemy, or sacrilege, or whatever it is that you want to call it." he waved his hand dismissively. "The point is Spike, she was burned for this. Isn't that what you are? Your entire existence? It's blasphemy Spike. It's why every time a cross touches you-" Wood grabbed for the nearby one he had wielded earlier, slamming it back down on Spike's already burned chest, watching the smoke rise, "your skin starts to boil!" Lifting the cross off, Wood tossed it aside and leaned over Spike as he kept calm, still making it apparent that there was rage underneath his soft spoken exterior. "Burning at the stake is not only very painful, but a very slow process." He backed off the table, starting to pace back and forth in front of it, "Unfortunately, I don't have a stake. I could get one, but it'd be time taken away from your punishment." He shook his head contemplatively, "No, this is more important." Looking up at Spike as though his news were good, hands now on the table, he patted it encouragingly. "I do have this. That's really all I need. You're nice and secure, so we can recreate this, very slowly. Don't worry," Wood went back to the little oven in the corner, and took the hotplate off, carrying it back to the table. "I'll make sure I cover your entire body, inch by inch." Lowering the red-hot plate down towards his captive, his smile was hidden behind the plate, but Spike could see his ominous eyes, "I love the smell of burnt vampire in the morning!"

Sniffing the air, Wood held the hotplate down on the freshly made laceration carved into Spike's leg; it provided a smell like no other. Most people got sick from the scent of burning flesh, but Wood found it rather comforting. It was his enemy after all; he had waited a long time to take in such a pungent odor. As he held the plate steadily, he looked up noticing the look of horror on Spike's face; trying in desperation to mash his body further down against the table, and away from the scorching heat, "Remember Spike," Wood spoke in a taunting tone. "I don't want to hear a peep out of you." It was a lie, he wanted to hear the wretched Beast scream, but Wood was smart enough to know that with letting Spike know that, it would probably never come. Spike did have his pride, and he was stubborn as a mule. Either way, it was a win/win situation for him. If Spike refused to scream, all Wood had to do was take a gander at his face, and the agony was written all over it. For now; at least, that was satisfying enough.

Moving his arm in an upward motion, the hotplate found it's way to a new home; deciding that he'd burn every incision made. At the rate Wood was going, it would take a while to complete. The rush that was coming from this quite possibly could have been an aphrodisiac. Wood started to feel his own hand tremble, as the burns spread beyond the cuts, and onto unscathed areas of Spike's skin. It was too much to handle; the thrill had overtaken him, and he needed to find a way to satisfy this sudden hunger. Longing for this day to arrive, Wood had wondered how it would feel, smell, sound like. Now he finally knew! The scent and scenery was indescribable and he could have sworn a small whimper escaped Spike lips. He bolted up pleased by this; he had hoped the vampire would make a sound, "What's the matter Spike? Did that make you uncomfortable?" Before Spike had time to process Wood's words, he was right in front of his face, staring him down with the hotplate only inches away from his chin, "Didn't mean to do that, why would I want to? You've been such an upstanding citizen. I really should apologize, shouldn't I?" Wood shook his head laughing.

Spike tried to look at Wood, but all he could focus on was the hotplate in his hand, and the heat coming from it. Despite the distraction that plate was giving off, Spike had heard that last part, and glanced over now in wonderment along with fear. Dammit, this just couldn't continue. How long would it take for Buffy to track him down and come this time?

***********************************************************************

The sun was forced from the sky again once darkness overthrew it. A reminder that shadows couldn't stay away for long, and most likely had never left. Sitting down on the steps of her quiet wooden front porch, Buffy stared out at the muddy grass, wearing a ruined outfit destroyed earlier that evening. If she couldn't save the world it wouldn't matter what she wore; nothing would matter anymore. If the girl in the hospital was able to open her eyes once again, there could be hope for a new lead. Until then they were all sitting ducks, and if there was one thing Buffy hated, it was being vulnerable. The girls had taken slumber, tucked away safely from what lurked beneath the shadows. Still, Buffy remained not only awake but outside; she was always ready to face things. Right now, given the mood she was in, Buffy wanted to face something.

Feeling a pair of eyes suddenly on her, she looked up and saw the figure which appeared to be Spike. He stood in front of the steps gazing down on her, seemingly careful about interrupting thoughts she were having. Buffy offered him a small smile, a way of letting Spike know he wasn't trespassing on a needed private moment. Alone time was probably a bad thing for Buffy; given thinking space, her mind grew wild and all hope suddenly seemed lost. "Why are you always around when I'm miserable?" Her tone was light in obvious reference to something long past.

Having knowledge to the memories Buffy was referring to, It put a sincere smirk on Spike's face and echoed his words from the previous year. "'Cause that's when you're alone I reckon." It paused not making a move, but studied her for moment, "Come out here to get away from people?"

"More or less, they're all asleep. I needed a breather anyway." Buffy shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

"Good thing I'm not people then." Mimicking Spike's attitude and mannerisms, It moved a couple steps forward, making sure to keep out of reach.

"I doubt that would stop you anyway," Not removing her gaze she was holding on him, Buffy started to speak with uncertainty. "Everyone is pulling their weight in there. Everyone is doing all that they can do, some are doing more than that. I can't ask for anything besides what they're giving me, but I'm going to have to. I don't know if I can gain anything from doing it, but I need to. If you saw what The First is packing, you'd know that we don't have nearly enough power on our side."

"What about Faith?"

"Faith will help." Buffy spoke with confidence, but of course there was a "but" following that statement. "But two slayers against an army of uber-vamps, plus Bringers coming at us from every direction, it can only help so much." A little bit of pep went back into her voice now, there was recognition that she hadn't handed out before. "It could be our first real break though. That's what I've been waiting for, right? Something to indicate that we have more power, it's a start." Buffy looked out, past Spike, and towards the street with newfound hope striking her, "And look, the storm already stilled. If the ground is solid enough tomorrow the girls can train in it; if not, I hope they don't mind getting a little dirty."

The First wanted to stare at her dumbfounded, but had to keep a look of agreement on Spike's face. Perhaps its opponent didn't have the brains It thought she had after all. She was utterly clueless about the amount of power that had suddenly gone missing from her team. The First wasn't disappointed in this; in fact It was thrilled to see its plan had come together so easily. Too distracted to notice the number one sign ultimate evil had taken up residence; not touching a thing. Not getting close to anyone; which was a trait Spike had to begin with, so The First couldn't blame Buffy for not becoming suspicious of that one. Still, he was keeping back away from her of all people, and Buffy was rambling on about the added power she had; the start of something bigger and better for them. It really was adorable how naïve and oblivious this slayer was turning out to be, "Think you're on to somethin' there Buff."

Buffy stood up with a new feeling of confidence growing inside of her, "Thanks for listening. I think I'm going to head to bed." She made her way inside with The First following a few paces behind her. It was when the front door shut that the rain started falling once again.