Sorry for the state of the last chapter, I really didn't review it and fix all the errors in there.




Buffy hung over Spike like a vampire bat, wanting the delicious veins of blood guiding torrid amounts of blood into her mouth, filling her own dead veins. Her face shifted once again, making ridges and scars across her normally quite beautiful face. "Hello... Sire..." not-Buffy said softly into Spike's soft yet cold ear. He was lying rather uncomfortably on the examinating table, half of his back digging into the side. Spike was so shocked he could hardly think of what to do, except for closing his gaping mouth. Several incoherent thoughts ran through his head. She was... Too close. Spike took hold of not-Buffy's naked shoulders and forcefully pushed him off of her, trying to keep his own face from changing into its natural state.

Vampire Buffy could sense that he was trying to be the "Good one" in this situation, and so the push didn't faze her a bit. "What now, William? Suddenly you can't take the evil? The power that comes with it all?" Her yellow eyes with the tiny golden flecks flashed as she pushed him back down on the table. Spike winced, knowing that the other vampire would be much stronger than he, as the bloodlust, energy of the Key, and the Slayer parts were now mixed together.

"Excuu-seuh me if I'm wrong," vampire Buffy flashed a fanged grin, "but aren't you the one without the soul? That's right! You are! You know who *does* have a soul?" she waited only two seconds before answering her own question. "Angel does. That's right. Sweet, *darling*, Angel."
Spike stared up at her face, daring her. "What are you gonna do 'bout it, Slayer? Huh?"

She pursed her lips and punched him in the nose forcefully. "I don't know," she said sweetly. "Maybe I should just take it out on you. Poor, defenseless, chipless Spike. So sad, and yet so sweet," she mocked him, caressing the spot where she had punched him.

"Hey! Mind your elders, bitch." Spike suddenly took a hold of her hair, and pushed the back of her head into the side of the steel table. He took his hand and gripped her neck with it, letting go of her hair and taking a large, shiny scalpel off the small tray near the light. However, this gave Vampire Buffy time to kick her leg up and get Spike in the eye, making him drop the scalpel and lose the grip on her neck.

She took the liberty of grabbing the scalpel off the floor with her toes and making it spin up to her by kicking it. Spike now sat up on the examination table, his own neck bound by the extra-enhanced naked Slayer Vampire. "Sweetie, honey. Don't mess with me, okay?" she held the scalpel ever closer to his muscled neck, toying with it a little before making a deep gash on the side of his neck. Spike tried to get hold of Buffy's arm and snap it behind her, but at that time, she was so blood hungry, she didn't care.

"Blood," she groaned loudly, seeing the pool of blood appear on Spike's neck, dribbling into his black shirt. Vampire Buffy gripped his shirt hungrily and bent into his neck, slicing two thin holes of her teeth into his neck and submerging into the large vein there. Spike gasped, almost completely powerless. His hands seemed to find the small of her back and they started caressing the soft cold skin there, as she sucked slowly on his neck, her body pressed up to his. Another pull of blood. Oooh. The sucking noises grew louder as Vampire Buffy's instincts kicked at the same time Spike's did. As Spike's world became fuzzier and fuzzier, and there was only blood and Buffy and blood and need, the sucking stopped. Spike could barely hold himself up as he saw Vampire Buffy pull away, trembling and scared. She was touching her own hands, looking disgusted and terrified.

Her face calmed to a human pose, but Spike's cold blood lay splayed out on her lips and the side of her mouth. Her bright green eyes roamed over the room slowly, twitching a little when they saw two blood covered knives. Spike looked at her, his mind dazed and the blood flow slowing out of his neck. His own brilliant blue eyes looked into her own.

Buffy gave a small cry and collapsed to the cold tile floor, completely horrified now. She touched her lips, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she found scarlet liquid on them. "Where..." a hoarse voice came out from her body. Spike slipped off the table, crumpling into a heap next to Buffy, who was lying in a fetal position facing him, looking as if she was about to start crying. He crawled feebly over to his Slayer, and lay pressed up to her at her back. Spike grabbed the blue sheet that was laying on the floor of the morgue, and covered her body with it, tucking it in at some spots to keep her- warm? Spike shook his head, scowling at himself. *She's a Vampire. Not my Buffy.*

Then why was she acting this way? Spike was even more confused than before. Vampires wouldn't feel anything. What if it was his blood that was making her like this? Spike wasn't sure how Buffy was here right now if the demon had just been in her body. How?

"Where am I?" she asked so softly that only Spike could have seen her. "I'm so confused.... Why?" The Buffy form turned around in his arms, now laying on his chest just in the blue sheet. "It was so cold. I didn't like it and I was trapped and I couldn't get out and no one would let me out and I felt like I couldn't breathe and then I couldn't and it was blue all over, Spike, why?" her voice broke as she finally said his name for the first time since her death. She burrowed her head into his firm chest on the floor of the morgue where they lay, huddled together.

Spike cradled her further into his arms, caressing her hair softly, knowing that his Buffy was back. Not that she could remember much of her living life yet, but this was her. So what was the Vampire doing in her?

"Love... You're dead," he told her incredulously, as if he had just accepted it himself. But that part was sort of true. He hadn't really thought she was gone. Somewhere in his being, he knew she would come back.

"Dead?" her voice wavered, as she screwed her eyes shut, and bit her lip. "Why am I dead?" she sounded hollow, as if everything in her was void of all thoughts and memories.

Spike's head hurt from the blood he had lost, and he had to rack his brain to remember how she had died- it was that bad. He took a deep unnecessary breath to calm himself, to not be affected by her closeness. It wasn't because she was clad only in the sheet- it was because she was there. "You died to save the little one. Your sister. The little chit had bits and pieces of problems here and there..." Spike didn't want to trouble the girl more than she already was, but if she couldn't understand, then... He decided to stop talking and just let her rest. But Buffy seemed to think against Spike's thoughts and became quite restless, fidgeting in her arms slightly, with an expression on her face that clearly said she was either annoyed, or had a bad case of constipation.

Spike smartly decided that she was most likely annoyed, and slipped his arms out of his tight embrace around the small blonde Slayer staring straight up at the ceiling wonderingly, as if she had just seen a ghost. "I know her," Buffy pointed straight up, her arm outstretched as if to catch the invisible person probably swirling around up there.

"Tell her I said hello," Spike told her back, wanting to hug her again so badly. He laid on his back on the floor of the morgue, with Buffy laid in the same position next to him, still looking up at the invisible woman.

"She knows," Buffy told him confidently. "She knows. She says the marshmallows will always be at her house. She's so familiar, Spike. You're familiar too. And I know your name. How do I?"

Buffy's face was again clouded with confusion, her eyes squinting up at the white ceiling yet again. "Can you tell me, lady? Who are all these people in my head?" Buffy's bottom lip trembled slightly, and she crushed herself onto him again, hugging him tightly to her body. "Don't leave."

Spike wasn't sure whether she was talking to the ghost lady or himself, but he did know one thing. He couldn't bring her to Giles' just yet. She was too confused, and if the vampire came back just as he brought her to the house, he knew he would stake her immediately. Giles was that good of a Watcher- and father figure to let her live as a vampire. And then it'd all be over too soon and Spike wouldn't be able to tell him about the two sides in time.

Spike patted her head akwardly, and whispered huskily, "You'll know in due time, love. Just wait awhile."

Buffy shook her head rougly against his chest. "But I want to know now. It was too cold and it was cold cold cold cold. I got sick of waiting all by myself and I was stuck and with no one with me and I hated it but now you're here and which is why I'm alive now and why I'm in here with the other people that are dead and why I'm here with you. And your name is Spike and you're the only one I know and it's scary," she babbled.

Spike, for once, was spellbound by something that wasn't even magic.

Buffy.

____________________________

A large pounding noise came from the inside of Rupert Giles' house. So loud it rose him from his half-sleep and half-nightmare he was having upstairs in the somewhat lot. He rushed down the stairs hurriedly clad in striped pyjamas with a hastily tossed on burgundy bathroom and opened the door, clicking the locks off quickly. There, in the doorframe, he found a crying and hiccuping Dawn, and he ushered her in quickly, worried at her appearance. He knew Spike had been taking care of her in his crypt, but where was he now?

Giles offered her a seat, but the puffy-eyed girl with messy hair refused to sit and began pacing around the living room, practically in hysterics. "What's wrong? Where's Spike?" Giles asked, his voice sleepy but his mind sharp and ready. He knew this was something gone wrong with Buffy. Dawn had tried something. He knew it.

Dawn let all the words tumble out of her in a rush, still walking around, with her arms crossed over one another protectively. It took her only 6 minutes and 37 seconds to tell him, she was speaking so fast. She told Giles everything, and once he had heard most of what she was saying, he went over to the bookshelves and began pulling books out of it at a furious rate, finally coming to one of the Council's books. It was black, dusty, and old, and didn't have a title. Yet, it was not one of the diaries that would tell him nothing. He opened the musty book, thumbing through it. Dawn came up from behind him, looking over his arm, still crying. Giles knew Buffy's sister was having an awful time dealing with this, but he had to get Buffy before she killed anyone- because Giles knew what the Council would do with a Slayer turned vampire- he'd seen it before, with his father.

"Did you find anything?" murmured Dawn softly, who had come to rest on his green couch, lying down with pillows resting upon her stomach. She took a heavy gulp, wiping her tears away from her face. God, it hurt so much. And Dawn had nobody now, not even Spike, probably. Her sister- no- that VAMPIRE had probably killed him and it was all her fault. "It was my fault in the first place. It's all my fault," she said outloud, accidentally. She hadn't meant to, but...

Giles stopped reading from the book when he heard that. He peered through his glasses at the motionless girl on the sofa. He went to go sit on the glass coffeetable strewn with various magazines on it. Giles grabbed hold of her hand gently and told her the opposite. "No, dear. It is not your fault. None of this was your fault. None of it, you hear me? What the monks did was wrong, and immoral. To put such a tremendous amount of energy into an already energetic 14 year-"

Dawn stopped him, gripped his hand tighter, and looked up at him with shining blue eyes. She was going to cry again, she knew it. She didn't want to, but more tears came. "I'm 15 now. Today was my birthday."

Giles stared at the girl, but then his look turned to sadness. "I'm so sorry, Dawn. Happy 15th birthday to you. I, uh, had a present for you. I have it right here, in my pocket." Giles searched around in his pocket for what he was looking for, and found it. He handed a small box to Dawn, who sat up slowly across from the aging man. She looked at him thoughtfully, the stains on her face from the crying still visible.

She opened it, and found a Claddagh ring inside it, quite like Buffy's that she had seen in the morgue. It was beautiful, with a heart and hands and a crown. "Thank you, Giles. It's beautiful."

Giles cleared his throat. "It's actually from your sister and I. She wrote something in it for you. She thought she would give it to you when you turned 15. She was called in as a Slayer when she was 15 and she thought you might like one like hers."

Dawn started crying again, and Giles akwardly tried to hug her. Dawn threw her arms around her friend and the crying eventually subsided, leaving her with the box almost crushed in her fist and the ring in her other hand. She let go, finally taking the time to read the inside. In it, the same scratchings read. "From Slayer to Sister. I *heart* you, Dawn."

She slipped it on slowly on her ring finger. It fit perfectly, as she knew it would. Giles went back to researching, and finally suggested that Dawn might want to help if she was bored.

Dawn picked out a boring looking book from Giles' normal bookshelves (the ones without the demonology stuff) and looked through it, her mind not really on the topic. Until she came to one page, where an extremely old looking sheet of paper lay tucked in between sheets and sheets of white paper. In a thick, old font, had the word "Triangle" scrawled at the top of the paper.

"What the hell is this?" Dawn said, completely taken by surprise.

"What?" asked Giles, alarmed.

"Sorry about the swearing..."

"No, not that. It's your birthday. Swear away. What is it?" Giles looked over her shoulder now in the lighted atmosphere underneath the lamp, extremely curious.

"Dear God..." Giles breathed out as he finished reading it out, seeing that it was in Latin and only the name was in English. What the paper said in Latin- was definitely not good.