The next day was almost as bad. Willow, Xander, Dawn, and Anya were sitting in the Magic Box arguing about what to do. Buffy and Spike were still at her house, sleeping away the day.

They take for granted the daylight through which they have walked to reach the store. They ignore the confusion of change. They forget the pain of being abandoned.

Eventually they settle on phoning Giles and Angel.

She stared at the TV. How was that for a momentous occasion? The first activity of her unlife as a vampire was watching daytime dramas. As if All My Children held the answers to all the questions.

Spike was there beside her. He hadn't said anything to her in a while. At all really. Not since the morning. Just a few neutral comments during Passions about plotlines.

Spike's hand was on her thigh.

"Spike, no!"

He withdrew his hand like it had been scalded.

"Sorry, Buffy. I'm not sure what would be appropriate. I've never been in this situation before."

"And how do you think I feel?" said Buffy. Her hands tightened on the remote. "There are things I want to do now. Really want to do now, but they're bad." Silent tears started to run down her face.

Spike wrapped his arms around her forgetting the burn of just seconds ago. "There, there luv. It's just natural for who you are now. It's a shock at first..." his eyes narrowed, and a mischevious grin slowly split his face, "but you'll soon find that it's a lot more fun than you've been having."

"NO!" Buffy shouted and threw Spike's arms off of her. He was both shocked and not at the same time.

"You're not like any vampire I've ever met."

"I'm not a vampire! I'm the slayer! I'm... I'm... supposed to try to kill myself now... or something?" She shrugged. Confusion was replaced with a scowl on Buffy's face. "I hate it, I hate it, I hate it."

"Nice mantra."

"Look, I don't want to talk about this now. Just lay off." Buffy got up off the couch.

Spike looked after her as she walked out of the room waving her hand back at him in a dismissive way. "Where are you going?"

"I'm just hungry, okay? Leave me alone." Buffy stormed off into the kitchen.

Spike continued to watch the tv. He wasn't really interested though. The show just hadn't been the same since Kendall Hart left. He turned the volume down low. Spike wasn't in the mood for loud whining right now.

How could he screw this up any more? When Buffy first awoke after the attack Spike had been hopeful that, as his Childe, he and Buffy would be closer. Now he could barely touch her without Buffy getting violent. That wasn't anything new in itself, but now hostility radiated from her. The compassion, the want, even the pity was gone.

He cradled his head in his hands. He was a vampire. He was supposed to be evil and selfish. He was supposed to bite vampire slayers. He was supposed to turn people and like it. So why was this tearing him apart inside? The agonizing twists and turns keep coming when you're in love with Buffy Summers.

He made a monster from the only person he truly loved.

Spike closed his eyes to be alone with his pain. Some time passed with him in this position. Buffy had not returned. But there was a sound from the kitchen. It was quiet. Almost imperceivable. He turned to the sound. It was soft sobbing.

Spike went to Buffy. She was standing over the kitchen counter, sheathed in the darkness afforded by the closed curtains. In front of her was a plastic cup of yoghurt, the messy pink spoon still held loosely in her hand. She was crying to herself.

"It tastes funny."

She held her hand against her head. The confusion was just overwhelming her. She struggled to clench her fist in front of her face as if she were going to hit something, but it just shook there softly, clenching and unclenching a few times.

Willow stood behind her, arms crossed, trying to look sympathetic. Really she was trying to look anything but scared.

"Will, I can't take this. I don't know what I'm supposed to be." Willow tentatively rubbed her shoulder.

"It's okay, Buffy. We'll get you through this." It was like petting a rattlesnake.

"If you say so," Buffy said dejectedly. She smelled warm flesh filled with salty, iron-rich goodness... No! Bad! Bad! Stop wanting to eat your friends!

"Come on. We've been through worse and come through okay." Do you really tire of this life that much that you want me to eat you?

Buffy turned around and looked at Willow skeptically.

"Will, I'm undead. I think even Xander could figure out that this isn't a happy day."

Willow pondered this a bit. "You've been dead twice before. Granted you weren't all walking around and stuff after, but that could only be considered of the good."

"Third time's the charm and all that."

"Well, that's how the saying goes. But, I've discovered that it's really more like four," Willow rambled the way she always did when she was tense. Buffy wondered if Willow knew it made her less appetizing. "..And then you get to five which is just a bad number all around except that it's good for counting if you're a Roman but as far as charms go I find that the Guru Ablabahb makes the best charms all things considered..." This one time, at band camp... "...if a little pricey."

"You done?"

"I think."

"You know, I wanted to eat you several times during this conversation." Willow looked scared for the first time since Buffy was turned. It's amazing how you can delude yourself of something you know is true until someone spells it out for you.

Willow responded in typical ramble fashion. "But not in the good, wholesome feasting at the Y sort of way, I'm guessing, though I probably shouldn't have said that part and I know I'm trying not to, to make light of all this and all, but I can't think of anything to say so I'll shut up now."

Buffy reached out to Willow's shoulder. She flinched. Buffy sighed a little sigh and turned away again. "I must be really horrible if my best friend is scared of me."

"Hey, give me a break. I'm scared of all vampires except Angel and, and Spike, but that's only because he's harmless and neutered and all that now." A few moments of tense silence. "And, and I don't know if you're all evil and stuff."

Buffy turned to face her again.

"I mean, I know, slayer and all, force of goodness and everything that's in the job description. But I remember when I met you and Jesse got turned. Giles said that 'You have to remember that when you see him, you're not looking at your friend. You're looking at the thing that killed him.' I don't know if you're you."

Buffy took a step toward her. Willow probably thought that there was some intention of hostility or some revelation or something. But really Buffy was just pacing. "Then again, a lot of vampires are like they were in life. I mean, look at you. You've sorta been there before."

Willow scowled. "If you're like I was, with the tight leather and the licking and groping and disgustingness, I think I'm going home."

"Uh, no, Will. No disgustingness. I think I'm still me."

"That's good."

But I'm not.

Xander is sitting in the couch in front of Buffy's newest coffee table. They've gone through a lot of them over the years. They keep the Sunnydale furniture stores open, as he often said. But it's not funny. It's expensive. But Xander had a good job and had money, so he never really worried about it. "And if you ever need anything you know I'm always here for you." He steepled his fingers in front of him and attempted to smile. He was the good guy, the heart and soul of the team. Everyone loved good-natured, warm, fuzzy, goofy Xander. Today he was here to take Dawn away to his apartment. It was to protect her from Buffy, just in case.

"Thanks."

It was daytime and all the blinds were shut. A sliver of sunlight traced over Xander's shoulder through the thin slit between the curtains. Buffy sat far back at the other side of the room, bathed in incandescent light.

"You know," Xander started, looking at the carpet and strumming his fingers on the upholstry, "I can't imagine a world without you. It's happened before and every time it does, loads of suckage. I know that things may never be the same and we're all in for a rough ride, but I'm just glad you're still here."

To Buffy he just looked yummy. He did make a good point though.

"I wouldn't want to live in a world without me either."

"Are you okay?" Xander asked. Of course the answer was no.

"I'm fine."

"If you insist, Buff. I wouldn't be fine if this happened to me. But you haven't tried to bite me yet, so that means you're acting normal, though disappointing to all my high school era fantasies."

"Eww!" Dawn came running down the stairs toting a duffelbag full of clothes. "Don't want to hear about it. I'm packed!" she said, a bit louder than she intended. Then again, it made sense for her to be enthusiastic about leaving. Dawn always took every opportunity to get away from her, so it made sense even more now that she was a vampire.

Xander stood and guided Dawn to the door.

"I'll give you a call later tonight," Xander said. Dawn pulled open the door letting the light stream in from the outside. Buffy stood well back.

"Bye Buffy. Get well." What was that look on Dawn's face. Hatred? Confusion? Pity? Possibly apathy.

Xander shrugged.

"Don't be too hard on her. She's had to deal with a lot. Almost as much as you."

He moved into the darkness away from the door and embraced Buffy in a hug. "Take care," he said.

She sniffed back a tear then crinkled her forehead.

"Have you been eating garlic?"

"No, no, not at all. Well, yes."

"...No... Giles, no," Willow said into the phone. Her right finger was pressed into her ear. Reception wasn't very good overseas. "I didn't want to have to tell you this either but I did... I'm sorry... Are you alright? I - I mean of course not, but y'know, relatively speaking? Like lasting the next couple of days, sorta, thing?" She tugged at a lock of red hair with her phone hand. Willow could picture Giles. It was horrible, she imagined. Change the hair colour, length and gender and all that and she was sure he was looking better than she was right now. "Anything else that can help me, uh... us, I mean - her, Buffy, through this?" Willow cursed softly to herself away from the mouthpiece, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... " and louder again to Giles, "Damnit. I'm lost here. I don't know what to do... Yeah, I know you don't either. Please, Giles. Just hang tight, okay? We'll see you soon."

Willow hit the off button on the wireless. The beep just wasn't satisfying enough. She winced her face and screamed. The phone smashed into peices against the wall. That was a metaphor for her life, wasn't it? Shattered into a million shards of so much low quality plastic. And how much of that was herself? Delicate, happy, sweet, innocent Willow's rage and greed. Lousy evil.

She stormed off to find Xander. They needed a warroom meeting ASAP. She tried his apartment's line on Buffy's sole surviving phone. It was busy. She kicked the wall in frustration. At least she didn't have to worry about disturbing Buffy. Her friend (and possible evil demonic force) was sleeping like a stone in the basement. Buffy should be fine there. Vampires like cold, dark, bare floored and walled rooms to sleep away the day in their coffins. Willow didn't think Buffy would miss her for a few hours. She rushed out to her car, not noticing the gathering stormclouds overhead. She needed to find Xander.

As Willow drove at breakneck speed to the upscale apartment across town, Giles' words echoed ceaselessly in her head. He seemed timid and freakily happy that she was calling him. It hurt her so much to tell him, it really did. Willow knew she nearly couldn't, and was within half a second's worth of thumb motion to cutting off the call before she told him. When Giles had finally retrieved the phone from where it lay on the floor and began speaking again it was as though the warm-hearted man had died, and was replaced with his reanimated corpse. He displayed less life than Buffy. It was always his nightmare and now it was true. And Willow was the messenger. Hell must have a special place for her now. If she had any say in it they'd be prepping her room as she drove.

Willow's eyes were bleary as she raced down Xander's street. She knocked over someone's mailbox and didn't notice. She hit a dog in the street and she just didn't care.

Xander was still on the phone to Los Angeles. The old vampire sure was stubborn. Xander wanted to add pigheaded, arrogant and stupid to the list. It wasn't fair, he knew, but for Pete's sake, they were talking about Buffy here and he didn't even want to see her. "Look, for fuck's sake, man," he yelled at Angel, "I don't like you, and you don't like me, but we both love her and, as much as I hate to admit it, she needs you now, more than ever... How can you say that? It's Buffy...Yes it is!" Xander couldn't believe it. Angel of all people should be the one to see past the whole demon, evil thing. He only had one other card to play, and it was an offsuit nine. "What about Spike? He's an evil vampire if there ever was one and God help us, he's on our side. Buffy deserves infinitely more trust than him." Stalin would deserve more trust than Spike, but that wasn't the point.

"Thank you!" And with that, Xander slammed down the phone. Angel was on his way.

There was furious banging on his door. He rushed to open it. Willow was standing, soaked head to toe, her hair matted to her forehead, gray tracksuit dark and muddy looking. Tears streamed down her face from her bloodshot eyes. She rushed inside and hugged him tight. Xander pulled her in softly and closed the door behind her.

As Xander lead her over to the couch, Dawn and Anya came in from the other room.

"What's wrong? What's happening?" Dawn shrieked. It did look bad.

Willow sniffed a bit and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"I was just talking to Giles. It's bad. And I'm worried about him. He's, he's a wreck. When I told him he dropped the phone and didn't pick up for 10 minutes. He sounded like he did when Miss Calendar died, only worse. I'm at my wit's end."

"And your phone bill is gonna be pretty high this month."

"Xander!"

Xander hugged down on Willow a little harder.

"I'm sorry, Will. It's just the way I cope. Yeah, it sucks, I know."

He felt Anya's hand land on his shoulder. She was about to pipe up in her unwelcome fashion. He could feel it. "What?" She asked, genuinely confused. "I don't see what the big deal is. So Buffy's an evil demon now. I was too and I turned out okay, all nice and lovable and goody-goody. She'll be fine."

Hostility rained down on her.

"You bitch!" was Dawn's retort, her distaste with Anya boiling over into anger. Dawn launched herself at Anya's throat.

"Little help," croaked out Anya as Dawn's fingers kneaded their way into her jugular.

Xander let go of Willow and pried Dawn off his girlfriend. "Behave yourselves, both of you." He stared them down. They timidly shrunk away from his steely glare.

"Now, Will," Xander's tone suddenly soft again, "what did Giles tell you?" Unlike so many girls Willow was never openly over-emotional. Xander knew his best friend better than he knew himself - she was excessively introverted and closed up with her emotions. His gut told him that there was no good news coming.

"Giles can't help us," Willow sniffed. One huge breath later... "Okay, calm Willow, calm. Breathe...whoo, whoo... This has never happened before, not to a Slayer. Most vampires would rather kill than turn a Slayer, and no Slayer would ever willingly drink - share blood with a vampire to complete the siring. This was wrong, it was never meant to happen. Only because of Spike's chip and his love for Buffy and, I guess, Buffy's feelings for Spike, and then the circumstances with him trying to help her... But she's still a vampire now. She's evil."

"What do you mean Buffy's feelings for Spike?" asked Xander.

"You're fucking clueless," mumbled Dawn.

Xander slouched. "True. Soul restoration spell?"

Willow tried to shrug but her shoulders refused to move. "It's not that simple. There are some extenuating circumstances about Buffy being the Slayer."

"Hence already having a certain amount of demony content?"

"And the fact that she's died a couple of times already," Willow added. "Plus I'm - I'm not up for any magic right now," she sighs, hurting from Tara's leaving, "and Giles said he didn't think it was even applicable now."

"When's Giles coming?"

"I don't know if he is. He had to go to the hospital first. He broke his hand punching the wall. I really couldn't get that much out of him."

"Great. You mean we're on our own for this?" Willow nodded a depressed yes. "Wonderful. Just what we didn't need." Who do you turn to when the people you always turn to aren't there? There's yourself, which Xander was terrified of. For badness of epic proportions he knew he wasn't up to the task. That was Buffy's job. Except she's the epic badness this time. And the only help he could count on was the one man he most hated to rely on. "Angel is coming. He'll be here before sunrise."

Her friends were acting all strange. Sure, they all tried to be nice and upbeat, but it was a badly played sham, she could tell. She could smell them sweat, hear it in their voices as their larynxes constricted early and tight when they spoke. Except Anya. She was still the same, but she wasn't pulling any punches either.

"Look on the bright side. Now you can invest all your money in safe and reliable interest earning accounts and long term stocks and be able to enjoy it as it matures and grows over the next hundred years." Anya was very chipper about it. Buffy watched as Anya reached into her oversized purse and pulled out a stack of file folders and brochures. "Here, I've already put together a sample portfolio for you with conservative estimates of earnings by year and hypothetical market recessions which, as you can see, you'll be able to ride out easily."

Damn it, she was annoying. Slightly useful, but annoying. Though not as annoying as everyone else, trying to be all sugar sweet and psychological.

"Not now, Ahn," interupted Xander before Anya could lauch into the details. "Buffy doesn't need financial advice right now. She needs our support."

"There you go again! I do not need your support!" Buffy yelled. Dawn dropped the plate she was washing in the kitchen. It shattered to a hundred pieces on the floor. Dawn peeked around the door but was too scared to enter the room.

"I can take care of myself, and all this smothering is only going to get me wanting to rip your throats out more."

Willow reached out to Buffy. She slapped away Willow's hand with violent force. "Don't you dare try to touch me!" Buffy hissed. "Any of you. You don't know what I am. What it's like."

"Buffy?"

"Shut up. Don't even try. You'll just fuck it up. Like always." Willow's eyes became pools of tears. Buffy could see the hurt she was causing. And she deserved it. Buffy was going to enjoy crushing her spirits like a bug. "Selfish bastards! You can't deal with anything on your own. You always need to come running to Buffy. Evil demon? Get help from Buffy. Trouble at home? Get help from Buffy. Infected hangnail? Get help from Buffy. What are you going to do when I grow tired of you and get on with my life? Die, surely. Even in death I'm sure you'll still come running to me for help. You've done it before. You'll see what happens when you don't let sleeping dogs lie. And it's a lot worse than getting bit." Buffy sneered at the four of them, all chilled to the bone. Buffy relished the pure enjoyment of inflicting this pain, and fought the smile that threated to split her face open. It was a far cry from all the smiles she had been forcing as recently as yesterday. "Good riddence," she spat, with venom dripping figuratively from her mouth.

She turned, and slammed right into Angel's chest. His hands gripped her wrists like vice-grips.

"We need to talk."

They all sat around the dinner table. It was awkward, that's for sure. The bile still sat in all their throats from Buffy's tirade. She had done wrong, she knew it, but why did it feel so good? In her now unbeating heart she knew why, though.

"But when Jesse was turned Giles said that he was already dead, it was just the demon that remained," said Willow with worry in her voice as the group continued their discussion on good people turned bad.

"That's not entirely true, Willow," replied Angel, "You of all people should know that most of the original human personality remains, the memories, the emotions toward people, if not the intent of those emotions."

"But the soul is gone, the loving, caring human being is replaced by an evil demon."

"Yes. In essence."

There was that, for sure. The only thing coursing through her veins now was evil. It was all her remaining consciousness could do to keep that in check most of the time.

"Though they aren't all the same," continued Angel.

"How so?" from Dawn.

"I was totally evil. I revelled in destuction and causing pain and misery."

"We remember." It wasn't just Buffy who spoke with rage tonight. Xander had the bug too. She hid her cruel smile from the group.

"Others aren't the same," Angel explained. "There are passive demons, like the Sasquatch, even benevolent demons. I have one on staff."

"You mean like Clem?" asked Dawn.

"I don't know who that is... What I'm saying is that, even though the demons risen in vampires are, unfortunately, always evil, we aren't always bent on torturing the innocent or destroying the world. Harmony is an example of this."

"Uh?" Willow was less than impressed. "The first time she saw me she tried to eat me. No."

"That's probably because she doesn't like you. Again, we keep our memories and most of our personality."

Buffy kept her resentment. She had her everything, and it was taken away from her by her so-called friends. It wasn't the demon that wanted her to torment them. It was the Buffy. I'm the evil one. Buffy closed her eyes. Causing pain isn't as much fun when your excuse sucks.

"Harmony even tried to be good. Her demon was weak, her will was stronger than you'd expect. She eventually succumbed to it, and, unfortunately, Spike, but if your demon is like hers - Buffy, look up," Angel held her by the chin and lifted her head to face him, "we should be able to help you interact non-destructively and lead a normal life."

Yeah right, was her mind's response. The ground seemed like a damned good option at this time. And maybe going out with a post office style killing spree would be fun. Except that would probably put her not where she was last time she was dead. If anywhere at all.

"Can we be alone for a sec, guys?"

"Sure Buff. Come on, Dawn." Xander lead the others away, leaving Buffy and Angel together facing each other across the table.

"I don't know if I can do this," said Buffy quietly when she was sure the others had gone far enough so they couldn't hear. "I wigged on everyone just before you got here. It wasn't pretty."

"I know. I saw."

Buffy couldn't help but smile. "I should have figured. You always had a talent for showing up without a sound. How'd you do it?"

"Years and years of practice. I can't even remember how not to do it anymore." Subconsciously her hands felt out his. They grasped together, fingers entwined. It was the first time they didn't feel cold.

"I've done this before."

"Of course we have. We used to do this all the time."

"No, not this, silly," said Buffy. "I mean struggled against being a vampire."

"I don't-"

"We were living out our nightmares. I remember Xander was being chased by a clown. This was Giles'. I fought it and I beat it. But that was just a dream, wasn't it? Just a dream..." She sobbed. She was right before. She couldn't do this.

"Oh. No," whispered Angel. He vaulted over the table and took her in his arms, trying to console her.

"I've said too much."

"I haven't said enough."

Angel kissed her on the forehead and cradled her head against his shoulder. It felt nice for Buffy to be intimate without violent sex involved. Angel was right there in front of her, she wanted him. She craved him. She needed to have him so badly...

"Ah!" Angel drew in a gasp with a hiss through his teeth. Letting go of Buffy instantly he drew a hand to his neck where blood was slowly trickling down. His eyes locked with Buffy's yellow ones. She could see the shock and horror on his face as he raised his fingers in front of him, still unable to believe the wound her fangs tore open in his neck. She didn't need to be able to see her own reflection in his eyes to know the mirror image expression was worn on her own transformed face.

"I'm sorry!"

She ran to her room, taloned hands over her crying eyes, drawing blood from her own forehead. It mixed into pink. She used to like pink.