Buffy burst through the overgrowth into a small clearing. A man, middle aged, lay on the ground, his legs completely bound by some sort of glistening thread. Scattered around were the contents of a knapsack, including several bottles and some food. What drew Buffy's attention, however, was the monstrosity hunched over the man – dark brown and spiny with elongated arms that ended in sharp, nasty-looking pinchers. It looked up at Buffy's noisy entrance, focusing on the Slayer and snarling. Her eyes widened as she took in the set of very long, very pointy fangs, dripping with saliva or possibly something less pleasant.

The creature pulled itself slowly to its full height, coming in at just about eight feet tall. Buffy watched it rise, her neck craning to follow it all the way up.

"Wow," she managed. "You're ... large. Large ... spider ... thing. There's never a giant shoe around when you need one," she grumbled.

The monster opened its mouth and roared in Buffy's face, letting loose with such force that her hair was blown back. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, "Or a giant toothbrush."

"Run, girl!" the man croaked weakly from the ground.

"Sorry, no can do," she shrugged. "They'd revoke my good-guy license."

With another roar, the monster swiped a massive claw at Buffy. She narrowly avoided being dismembered on the spot, but the claw still managed to catch her shoulder. She hissed in pain, but most of the blow was cushioned by her backpack strap and she was left with only a shallow gash. Her pack dangled only by one shoulder and Buffy shrugged it off, grabbing a stake from one of its many pockets.

She grasped the weapon tightly, and then looked from it to the monster and back again. "Whoever said size doesn't matter obviously never met one of these things."

It pulled back its arm and swung at her again, but she was ready this time and easily dodged, hurling her backpack at the thing with all her strength. Her aim was good and the pack smashed into the side of its head, but this did little more than make it angrier. It targeted Buffy and spat some sort of substance at her. Jumping to the side, the Slayer mostly avoided it, but some caught on her hand. She tried to shake it off, but it was like glue and wouldn't budge.

"Ew," she sneered at the creature. "I see now that brushing is the least of your problems."

Another ball of webbing flew towards her, and as Buffy ducked, it splattered into the tree behind her. She moved off to the side and it tried again, missing once more and coating the trees that Buffy had ducked behind.

Poking her head out cautiously, Buffy checked the distance and then dashed from behind her cover. She dropped to a roll as more webbing flew over her and then got back to her feet and leapt into the air, flipping over the head of the monster and landing solidly between it and its victim. The creature was completely disoriented and the Slayer took advantage, kicking it in the back. It flew across the clearing and collided with the web-covered trees, where it flailed violently, but only succeeded in getting itself more tangled up in the gummy substance.

Buffy watched it struggle for a few moments and allowed herself a happy, self-congratulatory grin before turning to help the man on the ground. "Looks like you're in a sticky situation." She laughed a bit too loudly at her own lame joke. "Oh, I Slay me."

The man wasn't laughing. "Miss?"

She glanced at the items strewn around the clearing for something she could use to cut through the stuff binding the man's legs. Picking up a half-empty bottle of whiskey, she seemed to consider breaking it and using that for a moment before she spotting a dagger and grabbing that instead.

"Yeah, I know, it's not one of my best," admitted Buffy. "I'm out of practice."

The dagger sliced easily through the webbing. Buffy nearly had him free when the man spoke again, his voice nervous. "Uh, miss? I don't think it can really stick to its own webbing."

The Slayer turned to look behind her and saw that he was on to something. The spider-thing was almost entirely free now, and Buffy watched as it gave one last strong yank and tore itself completely away from the trees.

"Oh," Buffy stared. "That can't be good."

If the creature was angry before, it was livid now, as Buffy quickly discovered when it moved with inhuman speed and barreled into her, knocking them both to the ground. Luckily she was still holding the dagger, and managed to bring it up and sink it deep into the monster's side, just as it was getting ready to, quite literally, bite her head off. Instead it started and merely grazed her injured shoulder with one of its fangs. Still, the pain was immense and Buffy cried out, tightening her grip on the dagger and giving it a sharp twist. The monster jumped back, hissing, the dagger still embedded in its side.

Buffy wasn't looking like she felt too much better, her face flushed and sweaty. She searched around anxiously for another weapon until her eyes lit upon the whiskey bottle she'd grabbed earlier. She snatched it up and hurled it with all her strength at the monster. It smashed into its chest, coating it with the strong alcohol. With her good arm, Buffy reached into her jacket pocket and fished out a lighter, flicking open the top and striking a flame. She uttered a silent prayer that it wouldn't go out and tossed it at the creature. Her luck held and it struck home, fully lit.

The reaction was immediate as the fire fed off of the whiskey and consumed the creature. Its hisses turned into otherworldly agonizing screams, and it fled towards the forest, tearing through the trees and leaving behind a flaming, smoking trail.

Buffy watched it go, sweating and panting heavily from more than just the exertion of the fight.

The man, having finally freed himself from enough of the webbing to move, although several strands still clung to him, walked over to Buffy. His eyes never left the direction the creature had fled.

"Thank you!" he exclaimed gratefully. "I was ... It came out of nowhere!"

"No big," Buffy replied shakily, trying to push herself to her feet. "S'a rule. Have to ... follow ... screams ..."

She collapsed in a boneless heap to the ground, unconscious. Her shoulder wound continued to trickle blood and throb, red, painful and angry-looking.

"What made you decide to help out?"

Willow and Xylia sat across from each other at an outdoors table at the local coffee shop, The Common Grounds. The day was slightly more overcast than the day before, but still beautiful and both women were taking full advantage of that fact.

"Well I just starting thinkin', y'know, about what you were saying, and you're right," explained Willow. "Trees with their earthy roots and with the oxygen, and oh! Apples! Which are sort of the main ingredient in apple pie, and what kind of a world would it be without apple pie? Not a world I want to live in, that's for sure mister, cuz apple pie and baseball – cornerstones of democracy, and you need democracy or we'll just tumble into horrible places where you can't vote and I only just got to start voting a little while ago, so ... " She trailed off, realizing that she been babbling again. "So- so gotta get with the tree saving."

Willow quietly took a sip of her mocha, thoroughly embarrassed.

"I'm not sure I followed that," Xylia said carefully, "but if it means you're on board, I'm in complete agreement." At Willow's nod and grin, Xylia produced a stack of fliers and placed them on the table. "I was thinking you could post these up around town."

The redhead took the top flier and examined it.

"We're having a gathering tonight," clarified Xylia. "A ... recruitment drive. The world must be made to hear the weeping of the trees. Everyone can help ... one way or another," she added.

Willow turned the flier around, pointing at it excitedly. "Oo, and you'll have cookies!"

"Sadly, the allure of simply doing the right thing is rarely enough. People are much more inclined to attend with the promise of something tangible."

"And yummy!" exclaimed Willow, still fixated on the idea of cookie goodness. "Who can say no to chocolate chip?" She paused for a moment, considering the flier in her hand. "Isn't it sorta ... ironic that you're using paper fliers in your 'Save the Trees" campaign?"

"Until electronic paper becomes an affordable reality, we have little choice," said Xylia regretfully. "But we only use recycled paper, and for every hundred pages we print, we bring life to a new tree, thus maintaining balance. Trees are generous – they do not mind giving of themselves when respect is shown."

Willow nodded enthusiastically. "Well sure, who doesn't want respect? I mean, they even write songs about it."

Xander strolled down the street, singing to himself, "What you want! Baby, I got it!" It wasn’t a particularly good rendition, but it was certainly enthusiastic, and Xander sang like he felt that should count for something.

"All I'm askin', is for a little respect (just a little bit!)," he continued to belt out, contributing his own back-up vocals. He was in good spirits as he made his way to the lumberyard, and had started adding dance moves to his routine when he heard angry voices in the distance.

He sobered up almost immediately as his Scooby Senses kicked in and he increased his pace. He soon saw a group of women gathered around the entrance to the lumberyard. Xander glanced at their identical shirts, all reading "Pining Away", and watched for a moment as they continued to shout about the assassination of trees, despite not having any obvious audience.

Xander approached cautiously, but with a friendly smile; however before he could take more than a few steps, the group turned towards him angrily.

"You!" one of them shouted, thrusting her finger at Xander.

He stopped suddenly, looking over both shoulders in the hopes that they were mad at someone other than him. He sighed quietly when he realized that wasn't the case, but it was resigned – he hadn't really expected otherwise.

"Uhm, hi?" he queried with what he hoped was a disarming smile.

"Do you plan to enter this slaughter house, to purchase the lifeblood, the heart and soul of Mother Earth?" the woman demanded to know.

Xander's smile remained fixed. "That sounds a liiiittle bit out of my price range," he joked.

Not really bothering to decipher his answer, the woman narrowed her eyes to slits, boring into Xander. Behind her, the others followed suit. "This facility is an affront to all we hold dear, peddling the flesh and muscle stripped from the gentle tree. Those who would deal in such things are enemies of nature. And all those who are enemies of nature become our enemies."

Their attitude was dangerous and unmistakable. For a moment, neither party twitched.

"Okay then!" Xander finally exclaimed nervously, still smiling. "Say, have you considered talking to Ralph Nader? With a few speeches like that, maybe he'd actually get on the ticket."

Nobody laughed. The women continued to glare icily. Xander fidgeted under the attention.

"Right. Not a laughing matter. Note the complete absence of laughing." He pointed around the group at the lumberyard and started to edge toward it. "I'm just gonna be in here. Just browsing! No peddling of any kind," he assured.

The women all turned their heads, following him, the glaring not easing for even a fraction of a second. His tiny baby steps grew larger as he got closer. Upon finally reaching the entrance, Xander ducked inside quickly with a final glance at the activists.

"Note to self: Make sure to arrange for delivery," he muttered.

Finally feeling a modicum of safety, Xander inspected the lumberyard, noticing for the first time how quiet it was. He frowned, puzzled, and moved further in, peering around stacks of wood for any sign of life but finding none.

"Well this isn't at all spooky," he said to himself.

He continued to move through the yard, looking for somebody – anybody. He eventually reached the back without seeing a single soul and headed straight for the office. His attention was drawn instantly to a tree growing just outside the manager's office, appearing almost obscenely out of place, given the setting. Xander examined the tree curiously and then skirted it, poking his head through the open office door.

"Hello?" he called. "Anybody there? Preferably an anybody who's not insane?"

Silence was his only answer. Xander's look of concern deepened.

Giles sat forward in his office chair, examining the papers spread out on the desk in front of him. He frowned and selected one, a list of names and addresses clearly labeled as belonging to Faith. One name, Allison Lloyd, was circled in a bright hi-lighter. He put the paper back down in front of him and looked at the others. Only Faith's was marked.

Reaching over and picking up the phone receiver, Giles began to dial a number. As he waited for someone to answer, he took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking tired and harried. He snapped to life as he heard a voice on the other end, and clumsily replaced his glasses.

"Yes, may I speak to Allison please?" he asked politely. "Rupert Giles. We've spoken before, regarding Allison attending my boarding school...?" He paused, listening. "Yes, that's right."

As the person on the other end explained something, Giles doodled on Faith's paper, drawing little arrows that pointed the direction to nowhere. "Oh!" he finally exclaimed. "Oh, I see. When do you expect her back?" He paused again. "For the whole weekend?"

This line of conversation was obviously troubling to him, but he adpoted a casual air when responding. "Well the allures of youth, you know. I often ran off with my friends without warning." He listened again and then added more seriously, "No, I expect not, she did seem a rather responsible young lady. ... No, that's all right, I'll try back again next week. Thank you very much."

Giles returned the receiver to its cradle very slowly, deep in thought and looking extremely distressed.

Dawn bounced up and down in the dining room chair, swaying occasionally from side to side. She didn't notice Willow enter, since she wasn't facing the entrance to the room, and a pair of headphones firmly attached to her ears blotted out all noise. The witch took in the scene for a moment and then moved further into the dining room. She reached out and yanked the headphones from the jack on her laptop, filling the room with the generically upbeat sound of female voices. Dawn jumped in surprise, ripping off her headphones and looking up at Willow.

Willow listened to the music for a moment. Satisfied, she focused on Dawn. "Well at least ya took me serious when I said 'No more N'Sync on my computer'."

"What, are you kidding? You threatened to turn me into Justin Timberlake and teleport me to the mall," Dawn chuckled. "You better believe I took that seriously."

Pulling out the chair next to Dawn, Willow slunk into it and put the stack of fliers she was carrying on the table next to a grotesquely huge bag of cheesy curls. "So what'cha workin' on?" she asked, taking a handful of chips. "Homework? Need any help?"

"Maybe," replied Dawn, looking back to the laptop. "They're making us write out resumes for college applications. I'm sorta stuck on the extra-curricular activities part. I don't think 'Helped older sister and friends defeat the world's first evil' is going to win me any acceptance letters, y'know?"

"Yeah, I'd leave that part out," Willow agreed, munching on a few stolen chips.

Dawn continued, "And I wasn't even in school for the last part of the year, which leaves me with 'Rode around the country in a beat-up school bus while my sister's best friend taught me enough algebra so I wouldn't have to repeat'."

"Also not big with the sparklies."

The teen tossed her hands in the air, letting them fall back to the laptop. "I suck," she moaned disparagingly.

Willow immediately leapt to her defense. "No! You're just ... extra-curricularly deficient. We just gotta getcha into a few things that'll punch it up. Heck, you're only a junior. Plenty of time," she said confidently.

This was enough for Dawn, who brightened immediately. "Maybe I can get Faith to, like, teach me street fighting!" she suggested. "Extra-curricular and cool."

"I was thinkin' more along the lines of band," replied Willow, wincing at Dawn's idea.

Leveling a flat look at the redhead, Dawn stated, "I'm looking to punch up my resume, not destroy my social life. It may not be much, but it's mine and I'd like to keep it."

"Hm," Willow murmured thoughtfully, chewing on her lip. She glanced at the stack of fliers, and grabbed one, showing it to Dawn. "Oh, hey, how about helpin' me hang up these bad boys? It's a new group on campus, all environmenty. Colleges love that sort of thing," she added confidentially.

Dawn took the flier and read it over. "'Pining Away'. Very punny." Reaching the end of the flier, she squeaked, "Ooo, free cookies!"

"That's not 'til tonight," Willow pointed out. "And all those cookies will be sad and uneaten if we don't get these fliers up."

"Can't have that," decided Dawn, closing the laptop. She jumped to her feet, heading towards the door. Willow scooped up the fliers and was following when Dawn turned back, a thought having occurred to her.

"On the other hand," she drew out, "if nobody else knows about them? More cookies for us."

"'Hogged all the refreshments at activist meeting' also probably not gonna make that resume shine," smirked Willow, patting the girl comfortingly on the shoulder.

Dawn pouted. "Dumb colleges. Their priorities are way screwed up."

Willow moved confidently down the street in the residential section of campus, a stack of fliers tucked in one arm and a roll of tape dangling from her fingers. With her free hand, she deftly juggled everything and securely taped the paper to a signpost. Assured that it would stay put in the strong breeze, she moved further down, towards her next target.

On the other side of the street, Dawn wasn't faring quite as well. She was deeply embroiled in a fierce battle with her roll of tape, and it was clearly only a matter of time before it conquered her utterly. A piece had somehow managed to affix itself to her hair, but she barely even noticed. The roll itself was giving her the most amount of trouble. Tape was wound around two of her fingers and the roll was dangling by a long strip. Her other arm was full of fliers, and she was dangerously close to dropping them all over the place. Swinging the roll of tape, she tried to get it within reach of her other hand without losing her tenuous grip on the papers, but kept missing every time she tried to catch it. She resorted to snapping at it with her teeth, but failed miserably that way too.

"Ergh!" Dawn grunted in frustration. "Stupid tape. Stupid fliers. Stupid tape."

Smirking as she easily hung another flier, Willow watched Dawn out of the corner of her eye. "The path of social reform is undeniably arduous," she chuckled.

Tossing her hands in the air, as well as she could, Dawn gave up. The tape roll swung tauntingly at her in the breeze. "Ahhh!" she cried, stomping across the street to join Willow. "That's it, forget college. I don't even wanna go anymore. I'm just gonna live in my room forever and ever and never come out until I die of old age."

"Move over Gloria Steinem," Willow commented, grinning wider.

She suddenly stopped joking as something caught her attention further up the grass bordering the houses. A jacket was caught in the branches of a tree, which was itself oddly situated in the middle of the lawn. Willow moved closer, considering the jacket carefully. She didn't look away as Dawn approached, still fighting with the tape.

"Why is it even called 'Scotch tape'," she complained, intent on trying to unravel herself.

Willow wasn't listening. She set her own remaining fliers and tape roll on the ground by the base of the tree and reached for the jacket. She stood on her tiptoes and stretched, but it remained out of reach.

Dawn was similarly absorbed. "I mean, are the Scottish the only people alive who can not get caught up in the stupid stuff?"

With a triumphant grin, Dawn finally managed to free her fingers and she hurled the tape to the ground with disgust. She wiggled her fingers at Willow to demonstrate, but found her friend occupied with jumping as high as possible, trying to rescue the jacket but only grabbing thin air. Dawn crossed her arms and smirked. "Want some help there, shorty?"

"Nope!" Willow said, jumping again. "Almost!" her fingers grazed the sleeve. "Got it!"

Managing to achieve that extra inch she grasped the jacket firmly. Gravity returned both her and the jacket to the ground, breaking off most of the branch in the process. Throwing her hands over her head, Willow elbowed Dawn back out of the way, grimacing as the branch landed nearby although it hit neither of them. Confident that things were done falling for the moment, Willow straightened and examined the jacket.

"Not really your color," commented Dawn, also looking closer.

"No," Willow agreed, her voice curious. "How'd it get there, though? It wasn't just tossed up there."

Dawn peered at something on the sleeve. "Frat prank? Look." She pointed out the embroidered Greek letters.

"Maybe. This is Fraternity Row. Maybe they—"

The redhead's words trailed away as she glanced back at the tree, her eyes drawn to where the branch had been. The wood around that area was jagged and ugly looking, but what captured her attention was the dark substance oozing at a steady rate from the spot and gathering on the ground. Dawn followed Willow's gaze and swallowed hard.

"That's ... That's sap, right?" she asked as though she knew it wasn't.

Willow's voice was quiet and uncertain. "I don't think so ... "

As she moved closer, Dawn went to follow but Willow waved for the teen to stay back. For once, she did as she was told without much protest, although with much nervous fidgeting. Making sure neither to get under the flow nor to get any on her, Willow crouched over the small pool on the ground as closely as possible.

"What is it?" Dawn questioned anxiously, trying to get a better look from her faraway position.

Willow scrutinized the wounded section of the tree again. The dark stuff was still flowing strongly and steadily, indicating no sign of slowing down.

"I think it's blood," she replied.