"Cordelia," Willow said hesitantly after Giles moved to the back of the library. The brunette girl looked up to her form her seat at the round wooden table expectantly. "How did you know that Buffy was a vampire?"

"Oh, you know," her face was morose, showing every sign of sympathy that her body could hold for the poor fledgling and her friends. "Buffy was killed by a vampire, and then all of a sudden Angel had some information. I just thought that it was kind of strange how just yesterday he was locked up in his room not talking to anyone, and then today he was all part of the action." She looked into the somewhat stunned faces of Willow and Xander. "What?" They continued to stare. "What?"

"Sorry, it's just…" Xander gapped at her. "Wow Cordi, we didn't even figure that out. And you. Well…"

Cordelia crossed her arms over her chest and slumped back against the back of the chair.

Giles came back into view after a very silent moment between the three and sat down across from Cordelia and motioned for Willow and Xander to sit as well. "I have some rather unfortunate news." He fixed his glasses on his nose and then turned to face them. "It seems that Buffy - instead of coming to us or Angel - has gone to Spike for his assistance." He didn't look directly at them; rather, he looked into the center of the table.

"So what does that mean?" Cordelia sat up and squared her shoulders. "We know where Buffy is then right? We can go find her." She looked into each of their pessimistic faces and realized the wrong in her words.

"If Buffy has gone to Spike," Giles said slowly. "It would probably mean it was because she wanted to die." It was silent once again around the table. No one wanted to speak. No one knew what to say. Unspoken condolences were passed between them, and they felt the depression of losing her friend all over again. Willow broke down into tears, falling into Xander's arms as he stroked her hair, and held back tears of his own. Cordelia held her hands together in her lap and looked down at them, unsure of what she felt. "I would think that being the slayer, being turned would have proven too much for her. I suppose it is my fault. I should have seen the signs, checked at least that he might have turned her. But I…" He shook his head miserably.

"Oh Giles," Willow soothed, taking his arm. "You can't blame yourself. Buffy's a big girl, and she did the right thing for her." Giles squeezed her arm and then moved back to the counter.

Dialing the phone, Giles held the receiver a little ways away from his ear while it rang.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end asked. "Giles?"

"Yes Angel it's me." Giles removed his glasses. "I was just wondering if you had any other information for us, anything that might help." If Buffy had gone to Spike, there could still be a chance that she was alive. As much as he knew it would hurt them all that much more when they found out that he had in fact killed her, he knew that he couldn't let his slayer go on living her undead life without her watcher trying to help her.

"I don't know Giles; I think she might go home. She left here in the middle of the night. Spike was being really nice to her when we found her though. So I don't think we have to worry about him too much."

"He was being kind to her? Please Angel, explain." He twirled his glasses in between his fingers and listened hard.

"He held her, and he told her she would be ok. I don't know what it was all about but it seemed pretty strange for Spike. You'd think they were old friends. It was sick really."

"Yes, yes I would presume so." He put his glasses back on his face. "I'll be checking the crypt then, good bye." He hung up the phone and made his way towards his jacket. "I'll be back soon, everyone stay where I can find you." He was out the door before they could respond.

Buffy sat cross legged on the bed in the lower area of Spike's crypt. Spike was robotically changing into a pair of sweats, that Buffy would never have guessed him to own. They were loose and light grey, unlike the usual tight black jeans he wore. She didn't realize she was staring until he chuckled.

"See something you like pet?" He grinned at her when she blushed and looked away.

"I just… Never expected to see the Big Bad in sweatpants." She explained.

He laughed out loud, "Understood pet." He sprawled out beside her on the bed, leaning his head on his hand that was supported by his elbow. One knee bent towards the ceiling while the other was straight and the mattress.

"Spike?" She said suddenly, tucking her hair behind her ear. He looked at her, waiting for her to say something. "When I was with Angel, I had this nightmare that I was back inside the coffin, and I couldn't get out." She didn't know why she was telling him about her dream, but she noticed that he listened intently to her. "It was terrifying, it seemed so real. Like when I first woke up." She shrugged and decided to leave it there. She didn't know where she was going with it; it just seemed to slip out of her mouth.

Spike wrapped a lazy arm around her waist. "Maybe Angel couldn't keep the bad dreams away love, but I'm scarier than any little night beastie out there. I'll keep the dreams away." He squeezed her gently, shocked when his undead heart gave a sudden lurch.

Buffy leaned down beside him, propped up on her elbow, and brushed his cheek with her free hand. "Thank you," she mouthed and he closed his eyes contentedly. So this would be his new life. He'd take it. It was better than being alone and miserable. It was much, much better.

Eventually she snuggled down beside him and he did the same. There they slept, finally tired out from the stress of the day, with his arm still around her waist, and his head resting on her shoulder. Her arm was draped around his middle, tucked beneath his arm at his side.

When Giles snuck into the crypt, stake in hand, he saw the emptiness of it. The furniture was dark in contrast with the lightless night, and the candles had been blown out. The trap door was open though, and when he jumped cautiously through it – tentatively like jumping into a pool for the first time – he had to throw his hand over top his mouth to stop himself from crying out. There she was, his precious slayer, wrapped around their once arch nemesis like new lovers. He didn't have time to think, before he realized what he was doing, he found himself scrambling out of the crypt and pressing his back to the door panting. Angel has to know, he must, why else would he have sent me? No, no he can't know, otherwise he would have gone himself. His lip trembled slightly as he looked out into the night, noticing the shadow of another man leaning against one of the tombstones.

"I just came to see for myself." Angel shrugged at him.