Giles removed his glasses and rubbed them with his handkerchief. He grabbed the pad out of Andrew's hand. Putting his glasses back on, he read the words. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke.

"It seems, from what we have gathered is that the vampire will die... again. But the creating life...I am not sure..," he said, handing the pad back to Andrew.

"Creating life. He's going to..." Faith was about to spell it out for him but was interrupted by Angel.

"Look, we don't know if these words even belong together. We need to read more. Get more," Angel demanded.

Lorne looked on with skepticism. "Angel's right. There must be more in there." Lorne turned and walked a few paces back.

"It's saying that he's going to impregnate someone, then die. Right?" Faith asked him.

"Well Doe Eyes, these old prophecies have like... quadruple meanings. It's like a David Lynch movie, you never know what it's about until you've watched it four hundred times and even then you are still unsure why there was a backwards talking midget and... yea Angel's right. We need more info," Lorne said with a sheepish smile.

Buffy and Spike exited the elevator. The room seemed thick with anxiety. It was way too quiet.

"Lorne!" Spike shouted.

Lorne smiled at Spike, hiding the fact that he was terrified of the translation they just all heard. "Willy the Kid! How are ya?" So, I hear ya got visited by the Blue Fairy!"

Spike noticed Lorne's expression change. "What is it Lorne?"

Lorne leaned in a whispered in Spike's ear. "You and I need a one on one later. No matter what you're about to hear, remember that," Lorne warned him.

Spike looked worried. "About to hear what?" Spike asked loudly.

The crowd looked at Spike. Giles, once again took his glasses off to rub the lenses. Andrew sat, holding his pad. He swallowed hard. Spike walked over to him, concerned.

"About to hear what?" he repeated, harder. The look on everyone's faces spelled it out for him. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Buffy ran to him to calm him down. She looked at Angel. He wouldn't even look at them. Her stomach turned. "Guys, what's going on? Did you find out more about the prophecy?" Buffy asked.

Andrew began to speak, but Giles stopped him. "We still have more to translate. We only have a few words here and there. We're.." Giles was about to finish when he saw Spike grab the pad out of Andrew's hand.

"Hey," Andrew protested.

Spike read the words over and over again. He looked around the room, then back down. "A man he will become, and a life he will create. Four moons, he will die once more," Spike said aloud, looking at Buffy.

Buffy listened in disbelief. She stood next to Spike, eying the writing. "What?" she questioned.

Willow watched them sympathetically. "Guys, we're not done. Don't take it for face value..." Willow informed them.

It didn't matter to Spike. He was furious. He slammed the pad down on the table causing everyone to jump. He turned to Buffy, then to Angel and stormed out of the hotel. Buffy went to follow him, but Angel grabbed her arm.

"Buffy, wait. Let me talk to him," Angel said.

Buffy looked at him confused, but she gave in. "Fine," She said.

Angel let go of her arm and turned to follow Spike. Buffy watched him leave, then turned to Willow.

"Willow, How much of this is finished?" Buffy asked.

Willow looked nervously around at the group. Was someone going to help her with this one?

"There's... some more sentences, Buffy, what we have now isn't..." Willow stumbled on her words.

"Don't... just, get some answers. Please," Buffy begged.

Giles neared her and placed his hand on her shoulder. She put her hand on his and squeezed.

Spike sat on cement stairs of a tenement building down the street. Angel sniffed him out, as vampires do. He approached what looked like a beaten Spike. Angel cringed at the sight. He started to think that maybe it should have been Buffy who came out after all.

Angel stood in front of him. Arms crossed. "Spike. This may not even mean anything. These prophecies are hard to translate sometimes," Angel assured him.

Spike looked hard Angel's eyes. "It's poetic, actually. I've taken more lives than I can even count, Angel. Why would the Powers That Be want me to get off easy. Giving me this life... it's a burden. You're right about that. This Shanshu is a bloody burden."

"Spike, I didn't mean it that way. I had no idea..."

"No, but to give someone a chance to be human again, then to take it away in one full swoop. That's punishment. To have to tell the woman that I love..." he choked.

The thought of leaving Buffy alone felt like the worst punishment of all. His stomach ached, he thought he may even vomit.

"Spike, wait until we hear more. This may be all a misunderstanding," Angel assured him. Somehow, he knew Spike didn't buy it.

"Look, Angel. I'm not a stupid git. I knew from the moment it happened that it wouldn't last. I knew there was a catch. Buffy knew it too. There is no way in hell the higher powers would grant someone like me a chance at true happiness. Not after all I've done. I deserve to rot in hell."

Spike looked down at his feet. He knew it to be true. Whether he fought for his soul, stopped the apocalypse, saved the world. None of it mattered. He was tainted.

Angel turned to leave. He turned back to Spike who was staring off in a daze. "Spike, you said it yourself. We were innocent victims once upon a time. It's not our fault what we became, who we turned into..."

He stopped. He wasn't sure Spike cared. "We're going to find out more about it. Come back inside. Buffy's worried." Angel almost cringed when he said it, but it was the truth.

Spike looked up at him, then nodded. "Be there soon," he told him.

Angel walked off. Spike sat alone for what felt like hours. He didn't have the guts to face Buffy. He couldn't hurt her again. Not after all that has happened between them. Everything he did to become a better man, was for her. His life, his undead one, was nothing without her. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that he was cursed. Even with his soul and now his humanity, he knew. That night when Drusilla came to him and made him into the worst kind of abomination, it was a curse. At the time, it was an awakening. A birth to what he assumed was to his real life. But in the end, it was nothing more than a burden. He thought of the words of the prophecy.

"Life he will create," he said to himself. Then he felt a wave of heat run through his body. Oh God! He thought. Life... create.

The moon was high in the clear night sky. Buffy sat alone on a bench in the courtyard of the hotel gardens. She wondered if Spike was okay. The words of the prophecy repeating over and over in her head like a broken record. She knew what it all meant. The last few years took a toll on her. Almost losing Dawn, losing her mom, Tara, The First, Spike. Buffy hated her life, sometimes. Even though she wasn't the only chosen one anymore, her burdens were still there. Her curse. The memory of her last night in Sunnydale popped into her head. The First was in her form, trying to break her down.

"There's that word again. Alone"

Buffy shook it off. It was all just to mess with her head. Ancient prophecy. The prophecy is just that, ancient and something written thousands of years ago and translated a billion times.

Buffy heard footsteps approach her. Spike wrapped his arms around her and she cried. He looked on, surprised. Was she crying for him? He let her release her sadness. He didn't want to see her this way, it hurt him.

"Buff..." Spike choked.

"Shhh, just... don't say anything," she interrupted.

Inside, a very frantic Willow tried desperately to finish the translations. Dawn threw words at Andrew to write down. She peered up at Andrew who looked defeated.

"Andrew, why aren't you writing this stuff down?" she scolded.

He broke from his trance. "It's done. Everything you're giving me is just repeats."

Dawn looked at Willow in disbelief. Willow nodded.

"He's right. The words are just repeating, in different order."

Willow looked back down, skeptical. There was something wrong about these texts. She saw that some of the words weren't even real words. Just gibberish.

"Dawn, read out the last sentence I gave you," Willow demanded.

Dawn pulled back a sheet of her notepad and read back the words. "The sun sets drepify and the cows dance of joy?" Dawn recited.

Andrew scratched his head. "So, cows are going to dance now?" he asked.

Dawn bopped him on the head with her pencil.

"Ow!" he cried.

Willow ran over the text once more. It all just repeated weird gibberish, over and over.

"We have to tell Spike. These texts may just be nothing more than ancient nursery rhymes," Willow said.

Dawn moved closer to Willow and leaned in. "But what if it's not just nursery rhymes?" she whispered.

Eve sat in the back seat of the cab. She ordered him to take her to 315 Topanga Canyon Road. The road was empty and dark and she could barely make out the houses along the winding street. The taxi turned onto an even darker street that winded up into the mountains. They came upon a gated driveway. The voice on the speaker greeted them. Eve handed the money to the cab driver and exited the car. She approached the speaker.

"It's Eve," she said.

The cab driver opened his window. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to the door?" he asked her.

"I'm fine," she told him, handing him a generous tip. He thanked her then backed up and drove off. The gates slowly opened. She slipped in and walked up a path towards the house. A few lights were on that pointed at two ugly gargoyles guarding the steps going up to the front door. Eve's eyebrows raised as she ascended up the stairs. The front door opened revealing a butler.

"Mademoiselle," he said, swinging his arm for her to follow inside.

The foyer was huge with black and white tiles lining the floor. Candles burned in the corners, giving the room an eerie glow. The shadows danced on the walls, almost looking alive. To anyone else, this would scare them right out of the front door. Eve shrugged it off and followed the butler into a room full of books. A man stood with his back turned to them, staring at the fireplace.

"Monsieur Trevaud. Mademoiselle,Eve," the butler announced.

Jean Trevaud turned to face his guest. He was a handsome older man with long brown hair, tied in a ponytail that hung down his back. His eyes were crystal blue, almost transparent. He looked like someone not of this time. Someone from centuries ago. He bowed and approached Eve. He lifted her hand and kissed it. "Mademoiselle, Bonsior."

Eve jerked her hand back, eying him then the dark room they stood in. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of books. All seeming to be from ancient times to modern times. Something felt heavy. She wasn't sure if it was just the room or the man inside it.

"I trust it went well tonight? You were able to deliver the texts?" he asked her.

Eve smiled at him. "Yes. They're busy translating them as we speak. Now about our arrangement" She reminded him.

The light bounced off of his eyes as he turned to face the fire place. Then he turned his attention to the shadows. "Hear that darling. It's all going as you wanted."

Eve tried to make out who he was talking to. She didn't know anyone else was with them. Out of the shadows walked a woman in an old 19th century gown. Her long black ringlets fell over her shoulders.

She smiled at Eve and clapped. "And the spell?"

"Yes, my dear Drusilla. You will have your day. I promise," Jean said to her.

Drusilla flashed him a wicked smile which turned into a pout. "Bad bad daddy will get what he deserves." Drusilla and Jean erupted into a menacing laugh.

Eve looked on with horror