"Is that all you've got, luv?" Spike inquired mockingly. He back-handed the Slayer with one fist.

Buffy flew back into a tombstone. She was tired, and her fighting was getting sloppy.

"No," she said defiantly. She struggled to get up.

Spike laughed. He charged her, and grabbed the sides of her head with his hands. Buffy struggled against his grip with no avail.

He drew his mouth to her ear.

"You'll love it when you wake up," he told her, "You and I shall rule the hellmouth. You'll be Queen."

Then, with a sharp pain, his fangs intruded her neck.

Buffy awoke with a start. Memories of her change often filled her dreams, but none were this precise. She was panting hard, despite the fact that she didn't need breath.

Looking at the clock, she realized it was past sunset. Buffy left the bedroom and walked into the livingroom of her small LA apartment. She grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants from her closet and changed. She took a stake from her desk, and walked off into the night.

Angel's eyes shot open.

"NO!!!" he yelled. "Not Buffy," he said, a little quieter.

"Angel!" Cordelia said. She walked to the opening of his room. "Angel, what's wrong?"

Angel looked at the girl who had come to be his closest friend. "Cordelia, we've got to call Giles. I just had a dream, and I think Buffy is in trouble."

Cordelia's eyes became shadowed. "Angel, didn't I tell you?"

"Tell me what? Did something happen to Buffy?"

"Well, no, not to Buffy directly. Giles was killed. So was Joyce." Cordelia whispered.

Angel was dumbfounded. "How. . .when. . . who. . " he stuttered.

"About a month ago. Willow is pretty certain it was Spike. No one has seen Buffy since." Cordelia bowed her head down.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Angel demanded.

"I don't know," Cordelia said. She bowed her head and ran to her own room.

Frustrated, Angel changed clothes, and stalked into the night.