TITLE: Twists Of fate.

AUTHOR: Kelly Rowe

RATING: NC-17.

DISCLAIMER: Buffy, Angel and all other characters (except those I make up) are the absolute property of Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy, UPN and Warner Bros (If I owned them, do you think that they would be acting this ridiculous right now).

SUMMARY: AU Fiction. Buffy is the one sent to the Hellmouth to watch over the PTB's newest warrior.

SPOILERS: Minor (if any).

DISTRIBUTION: You want you can have it; just tell me where you put it. Any lists just take it.

PAIRING: Buffy/Angel, Oz/Willow, Spike/Dru, Giles/Jenny, Xander/Cordelia, Cordelia/Doyle.

CATEGORY: AU, Action and Romance.

Part One:

London, England - 1802

Lady Elizabeth Anne Summers was bored to death, not that it was an atypical occasion. She was constantly bored stiff at societal events and this ball that her mother and father had obligated her to grace with her presence was basically the same old thing, with the same erstwhile people. She would've preferred to be out on patrol with her perpetually dependable watcher right at that split second, but she had been ordered by the council to maintain her old tedious schedule. If simply she had been called or found at an earlier time, her fate might have been so much unlike what it was. She might never have had to suppress her true nature, to pretend to be someone she was simply not and never would she have had to put up with proposals from characterless men who had ruined her assurance in men - that there was one solitary man out there worth having and holding onto.

Elizabeth forced herself to move about from group to group, engaging the well-bred and monotonous conversations, until she was unexpectedly inundated by a presence in the room. She tilted her head a little towards the entrance to acquire a glimpse and saw Lord and Lady De Lyon - the most recent members of the societal clique - cross the threshold into the luxurious ballroom. Elizabeth had on no account met the duo, but had been privy to the whisperings regarding them and their bizarre behaviors. She began to deduce that the only factor bizarre about them and their behaviors was that - if her slayer senses were accurate - they were vampires.

To trial her fledgling presumption, she sought out an introduction to them. However it was problematical to do so, since barely a small amount of people knew them, unless it was through the rumors, even though countless numbers of both the men and woman she talked to did seem enthralled/seduced by the eye-catching pair - he with his blond hair and trenchant eyes and she with her tantalizing blond curls. Persevering she did ultimately find a couple who knew the twosome and were agreeable to introducing her to them, if only for the reason that they wished to partner their son Riley to her and her well connected, wealthy family.

The Finns, with Elizabeth in tow, approached their recent connections cautiously and as soon as they had made the faltering initiation they scampered away - whether to locate their son or in apprehension she was in doubt. She rapidly realized her imprudent faux pas, when she noticed the swift eruption of fear in her foe's eyes. In spite of this, as soon as it became evident that she would not or could not formulate a move against them in these surroundings, the guise of fear was replaced with one of elation. Hastily excusing herself with a insubstantial pretext she wandered away from them and over to her parent's side, where she remained for the rest of the evening, fully perceptive of the gaze of the vampires aimed at her.

Upon arriving back at her parent's domicile in the wee small hours of the morning and even despite the fact that she could only just stand, feeling limp with fatigue; Buffy made her way surreptitiously to the servant's quarter to talk to her watcher, Giles. Gregory Giles was a gentle, honorable man whom - contrary to council's decree - felt a fatherly affection towards his most recent charge, specially given that her own father seemed to be deficient in those skills. Even though he was a well educated and comfortably well-off man, he had been forced into a position as the Summers' head butler by the council - their way of keeping control and track of their latest slayer.

He was furthermore generally distressed by what Elizabeth told him about the ball and the two newest social butterflies. From the descriptions she had given him he assumed that these pair of vampires were Spike and Darla, two of the most sadistic vampires to roam Europe. In view of the fact that no one had actually seen nor heard of them in over a decade, he had thoughtlessly decided against instructing Elizabeth about them, their feeding and killing patterns.

Promising to instruct her on all she would must know the subsequent morning, he hastily sent her back to her suite of rooms and left for his home, where he knew his wife would await him. As he departed the Summers' dwelling, a sinister intuition overcame him and he had the compulsion to return to the residence and lecture Elizabeth about her most recent opponents. Shrugging the short-lived suspicion off, he turned and ambled away towards his place of residence.

The subsequent morning when Elizabeth came down the stairs, she found her mother bustling from room to room with anticipation. She held in her hand an invitation from Lady De Lyon to have tea at their manor, the first of their social contacts to obtain such an distinction. Elizabeth felt ensnared by this unanticipated news. She did not intend to cross the threshold into the sphere of influence of these vampires without instruction, but she could also not permit her mother to go there unaided. It was of course a deliberate ambush set for her by these malicious demons, but she could not figure a way out of it without costing her mother her very life.

That is how she found herself a small amount of hours later on in the family carriage approaching the De Lyon estate. As they pulled up outside of the elegant manor, a awareness of trepidation and peril settled upon her and she wished she had, had the time to advise Giles of her and her mother's little exploit. However he ever dependable watcher had been postponed by her father and would not have arrived at her residence until well after they had of course gone.

Her mother's coachman rapped upon the cumbersome oak door for them and then rushed back to the carriage. They had not long to linger before the door was opened by a human maid, who not only let them inside and took their jackets, but also directed them into the parlor where they were to expect their hostess. Elizabeth took a deep lungful of air and sighed, she could feel her body coil with apprehension as each split second passed and she anticipated the first act of violence from their hosts, whom had prepared this inventive ambush.

It was more or less a half hour later when the so-called lady of the house made her appearance. She ambled in and sat down precisely crosswise from them with a supernatural poise. Elizabeth's slayer sense went into overdrive from the energy radiating from this vampire, perceptibly greatly older than any she had encountered in her restricted slaying experience. Elizabeth scrutinized her as she request that the servants bring in the tea for her and the guests and wonder what she had intended for later on.

"Lady Summers, I am so flattered that you could consent to my late coming invitation," Lady De Lyon said politely.

"Please Lady De Lyon," Joyce Summers replied. "The pleasure was all mine."

The tea quickly arrived and Elizabeth tuned her mother's well-bred gossip out as she circumspectly sipped at her tea. A few moments later she become conscious that something was not right, when her mother stopped talking and there was purely an unnatural silence that settled over the area. Turning towards her mother she found her slumped over in unconsciousness and then looking over at Lady De Lyon, she found a ominous smirk spreading across her face.

"Don't worry little slayer. It's you we want, not mommy dearest. William now!"

Lord De Lyon crossed the threshold into the parlor and fleetingly distracted his mate, Elizabeth used this disturbance to her gain pouncing at Lady De Lyon with a stake she had hidden in the oversized dress she wore. She knocked the arrogant vampiress to the floor and they rolled around in a intolerably unladylike manner, with Lady De Lyon ending up on top of Elizabeth. However she also ended up on top of the stake and exploded into a cloud of dust seconds later. Elizabeth scrambled to her feet - not an easy thing to do in the dress she wore - and found herself grasped from the rear, struggling did no good as the fangs bared down upon her neck and pierced the delicate flesh of her throat. As she slipped into nothingness, her final thought was that she failed everyone - her family, her watcher and the world.

When she finally regained consciousness, she found herself alone in a extravagant bedroom. Rubbing her hands over her neck, she felt the wound that had been inflicted was starting to heal and was calmed. She then tried to arise only to fall back onto the bed, as a surge of lightheadedness overtook her and she realized that she felt bizarre. Had something been put in the tea earlier, or was this simply an after effect of being bitten?

The door opened and in walked Lord De Lyon carrying a tray of something that made her mouth water. "Ah, you're conscious. I had anticipated being here when you rose, but I was detained by business."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't worry it's relatively frequent to be bewildered right now. I recollect that I was," he told her soothingly, instead raising the panic within her.

"What did you do to me?" she all of a sudden asked, as a sinister feeling spread throughout her body.

Lord De Lyon sat down on the bed next to her, "Since you found it crucial to annihilate my mate, my sire... I decided to make myself a fresh cohort. How does it feel to be a creature you were born to despise, to hunt, to kill? Or don't you care anymore?"

"Get away from me y-you monster," Elizabeth shrieked as he endeavored to lay a hand on her. She didn't want to believe him and she definitely didn't want to feel his freezing hand laid upon her flesh.

He leaned in nearer to her and heaved a sigh in repulsion, he could still sense the soul within her. "So the folklore was correct. A sired slayer does maintain her soul."

Elizabeth couldn't respire or move about, all she sought after was to awaken from this and have it be all a nightmarish dream. Nonetheless she had the nagging wariness that it was unfortunately all very real.

"What am I to do with you my fair little childe?" he pondered reaching out to fondle her hair, impervious to when she pulled away from him. "You really are no use to me the way you are."

"Then let me go," she implored.

"Yes, I'll let you go. My ultimate revenge upon you for killing my sire. You're an outcast, a freak - not one of them nor one of us. You are and will be eternally alone."

To her surprise he picked her and carried out of the bedroom and down the stairs, pausing at the front door. Stroking her hair once more, "It really is a pity you aren't evil... you would've been the perfect consort." Then he unexpectedly had a servant unbolt the door and he cast her off out onto the cold, wet ground.

It took her a small amount of minutes, but she finally got her bearings and began the lengthy journey home, only to realize halfway there that she could on no account go home. Instead, not knowing where else to turn she headed to Giles' home to beseech him to be of assistance to her.

She rapped upon his door and waited for him to answer, praying that he was home and not delayed by her father just the once more. When he finally answered and saw her standing there relief flashed across his face.

"Elizabeth, you're okay," he said.

"Not quite," she responded. "I couldn't stop him."

Giles' face scrunched up in confusion, "Couldn't stop him doing what?"

"Turning me," she whispered ashamed to have to admit this to the man she so admired as a father.

Giles just stood there in astonishment, of course his slayer was not telling him that she was at the moment one of those evil creatures. If something like that were to have happened then the council surely would have informed him of that fact.

"Elizabeth that it not funny," he told her, "I thought that you were too old for pranks."

"It is not a joke. I wish it was one, but it is not," she told him.

When he realized that she was not kidding, he pulled out a cross. "Be gone evil creature," he said holding it out towards her.

"Giles..."

"Be gone."

In fear of her watcher for the very first time she rushed away from his home and out into the darkness of the night, unsure of what to do or where to go.

Elizabeth ran and ran until she was convinced that she could run no more and then, indifferent to her former station in life, she sat down in the gutter and wept. She had been like that for some time when she felt someone come within reach of her, but she no longer was concerned about who this stranger was - in fact she began to pray that he would kill her, rather than live this torment.

"It's about time you arrived, Miss Elizabeth," the stranger said.

She looked up to see the shortest, most horribly dressed man she had ever laid eyes upon, standing beside her. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"Name's Whistler and I've been sent here to help you," he told her.

"Who sent you? Was it Giles?" Elizabeth asked hopefully.

The man called Whistler shook his head, "Better forget about your watcher, kid. He's one of them. I was sent to help you by the Powers That Be."

"The who?"

"The Powers That Be," he said. "They control our destiny's. They need your help to prevent the world from falling into the realm of darkness. Are you up for the job?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Sure your do. You can sit here in the gutter for all eternity instead," Whistler offered helpfully.

Sighing, she took the hand he offered her. She would of course prefer to help the world rather than sit in a filthy gutter feeling sorry for herself for eternity. "When do I start?"

"Follow me, kid. I'll get you started," he replied.

They walked off into the darkness together and Elizabeth wondered what her future would now entail. After all she was still a lady and there were just some things she would never do.

Sunnydale, California - 1998

Liam Angelus Kelly, known as Angel to all his friends and rivals alike, was merely sitting on the front steps of Sunnydale High. As he surveyed all the other students walk by chatting and laughing - looking forward to the first day of school, he was still unsure why he even bothered to come back to do his senior year at all. He decided that it had to be Giles' fault, if he'd just let him live his own life then he'd be still in bed sleeping instead of dreading math class. He was so genuinely caught up in his private self-pitying brooding, that he didn't even hear the noise as his two best friends since childhood, Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg approached.

"Hey Angelcakes, wake up already. Class hasn't even started yet," Xander whispered to him as he took a seat besides his friend.

"Xander, leave him alone," Willow chastised. She had of course been in love with Xander since kindergarten, but there were times she just really would like to punch him in the nose. Even after the summer they had just shared, while Angel pulled away from them, not that she blamed him. He needed to find his own path after his parents brutal murder.

"It's okay Wils, I've known Xander way too long to be offended by anything he says," Angel replied winking at her.

Xander just looked at his best friends, "You do know it's senior year, right? It's time for us to bully the freshmen, have lunch off campus and generally run amuck. So why all the sad faces?"

"I just realized that one more year and we'll all be separated at college," Willow said frowning, how was she supposed to survive the college experience without them.

"Wils, some of us won't even get to go to college," Angel told her.

"Yeah, not everyone is super smart and talented like you," Xander added. He wanted to see Willow smile, over the summer they'd grown closer almost to the point of dating. He then turned to Angel, "What's wrong with you?"

"Don't wanna be here," Angel replied.

"Me either, but on the other hand at least we'll get a nice diploma at the end and never have to return to this evil building again."

Willow smiled at them, "How about we celebrate the start of our senior year tonight?"

"Are we thinking about The Bronze?" Xander asked.

"Always."

Xander looked at their third, "Angel?"

"I don't know man," Angel said feeling uncomfortable.

"Come on, you *so* need to take a break from all this shit you put yourself through," Xander told him forcefully - well as forcefully as he could.

"It'll be fun," Willow added.

He looked at both of them, "Okay, okay... tonight we Bronze."

"Yeah!"

The bell chose that exact moment to ring, signally that the day of torture was to begin and all three of them quickly headed off to their classes, in an effort to avoid a run in with the Nazi Snyder.

In a undersized, seedy apartment house on the abysmal side of Sunnydale, Elizabeth - now calling herself Buffy because she thought it sounded more American - was trying to loosen up enough to doze, but instead she kept questioning why The Powers had sent her to the Hellmouth. After a few hours of tossing and turning, she gave up on sleep and got up, heading directly for the kitchen area. Opening the refrigerator and grabbed a bag of pigs blood and fed, not that she was starving - just bored to death. With absolutely nothing to do and literally hours before sunset, she picked up one of her many books that she had unpacked and sat down in her leather recliner to read.

She'd been reading for just over an hour when she sensed a presence approaching her door and then a tentative knock, sounding against the matured wood of the door. Getting up ever so leisurely, she vigilantly moved towards it and opened the door.

"Hiya Kid," came the now familiar and still obnoxious voice.

"Whistler?" she said, "What are you doing here?" A prudent question since she hadn't laid eyes on the guy for almost half a century.

"Well I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop on in and pass on your instructions from *them*," he told her. "But if you rather I left..."

She stepped back and opened the door wider, "Come on in and enlighten me on their latest master plan."

"I'm not sure you're gonna like this one," he muttered. "There's this kid here... well actually he's eighteen so I guess you'd say he's a young man..."

"So?"

Whistler overlooked her disruption, "His parents were killed a few months ago by vampires and now he's on some twisted revenge kick. The Powers want you to help him. He's destined for something great and they need him alive and well."

Buffy was wholly pissed off, "I'm here to baby-sit some twerp who thinks he's a slayer - no freakin' way."

"Hey... don't shoot the damn messenger," Whistler replied shaking his head. "Sorry you don't like your assignment, but tough it out and sooner or later they'll move you on."

"Sorry Whistler."

"No problem, kid," he told her as he put the photograph of her new charge down on her table. "Just promise me that you'll be careful."

She watched as her old friend ambled away and then inquiringly walked over to the table and looked intently at the picture left there. The kid in the photograph obviously wasn't more than eighteen, but there was just something about his expression - a look of pain and suffering within his eyes - a look that touched her, a look and feeling she new far too well. She returned the photograph and decided to follow Whistler's guidance and just play along with The Powers until they got bored and moved her on. Since it was still awhile until nightfall, she went back to her chair and picked up her book to read once more.

An hour or so after darkness fell, Angel was still up in his room resentfully getting ready for his so-called big night out at The Bronze, when his father's best friend and his now somewhat guardian Rupert Giles came in.

"Are you sure you don't want me to make something for dinner? There are some kippers left," Giles asked him trying to be helpful. He knew that somewhere along the line he was messing it up, but he had no idea where.

"No thanks," Angel replied his stomach churning at the thought of what Giles usually made for meals. "I'm really not all that hungry."

"So where are you and your friends going?" Giles asked wondering what Angel was up to, he'd just been too quiet lately.

"To The Bronze. Xander informed me that senior year means it's time to party."

Giles sighed, "Okay. Have a good time and come home at a reasonable hour, please."

"I will."

The instant he was released from the house he felt that he could breathe easier, it wasn't that he didn't like Giles - he always had - it was just Giles tried to hard to be a parental figure when all he really wanted was a friend. He took his time walking over to The Bronze, not keen to be trampled by the multitude of teenagers who would naturally be there. He was just about to enter the last side street before The Bronze when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, cautiously he entered the tiny side street and hid behind some trash cans.

A minute later he was flabbergasted to see a delicate looking blond girl come into the street, without doubt this could not have been whatever had been following him - then again he had fallen for something similar once before and it had cost him everything. The blond didn't seem to be looking for anyone or anything, in fact she simply walked past his hiding place muttering something inaudible to herself.  He was about to remove himself from his momentary hiding place, when the blond doubled back. Deciding vigilance was not his strong suit he came up behind her and knocked her down.

"Hey," she said irritably.

"Why are you following me?" Angel commanded.

She looked up at him and he was rendered speechless, he had never seen anyone as beautiful as this girl. He felt as though she was looking through him into his very being.

"Following *you*," the blond said. "Jeez, you have a high opinion of yourself, don't you?"

Angel snapped out of it, "What else am I supposed to think? You followed me in here."

"Hello! I was going to The Bronze," the blond replied.

Angel looked at her suspiciously, "Then why come back this way?"

"I decided it was too crowded in there and I'd probably suffocate," she told him.

Angel rubbed his hand down his face, "Sorry."

"You should be," she told him and she got to her feet.

"I'm Angel," he told her offering his hand in a sign of peace.

The blond took it, "Buffy."

"I haven't seen you around before..."

"Just moved here," she answered smiling.

"You gonna go to Sunnydale High?"

"Nah."

Angel's insides melted from her smile and he nodded towards The Bronze and said, "You wanna come with. I'm meeting my friends and it would introduce you to some people in town."

"Maybe next time. I think I'm just gonna head home," Buffy replied.

"See ya round?"

"Maybe," she told him.

Angel turned back to walk to The Bronze and decided to pitch it to her one more time, but when he turned back she was gone. Inwardly he cursed himself, he hadn't even gotten her number or found out the general area of the town in which she lived. What were the odds he'd ever find her again. Sighing he headed to The Bronze, where Willow and Xander would be waiting for him.

Buffy ambled away cheerfully from the unanticipated altercation, she had after all given him a plausible justification if he ever caught her following him. She could now claim she just wanted to say "hi" or something like that. Entering her apartment, she didn't bother flicking on any lights, she had excellent night vision because of her undead state. She opened the refrigerator, but decided against feeding and instead grabbed a beer. Alcohol was something she rarely indulged in, but somehow it seemed to fit the mood. Slumping down on the couch, she opened her beer and stared at the ceiling, knowing full well she'd soon have to go out and patrol Sunnydale.

She had to remove any excess vampires before Mr. I-want-revenge got out there and got himself killed. She didn't like him of course, he was the same as every other male she had met over the last two centuries. She was simply doing her job. Satisfied with the explanation for her uncharacteristic actions, she closed her eyes, lay back and relaxed, pretending that she didn't see his smiling face when she did so.

Entering The Bronze, Angel scanned the crowd until he spotted Willow and Xander. He thought it was unusual that they weren't bickering, in fact they actually seemed to be having a serious conversation. He pulled up a chair and interrupted them.

"Hey."

"Hi Angel," Willow said slightly too cheerfully, as her cheeks turned a bright pink color.

"Buddy-boy," Xander said greeting his friend. "I was just about to go get the drinks. Want something?"

"Yeah, a Coke."

"Be right back," Xander replied strolling off.

Angel looked over at Willow, he knew about her crush on Xander - was it possible that Xander now felt the same way? It was common knowledge that Xander hadn't been quite the same since his break-up with Cordelia Chase, the most popular girl at Sunnydale High the year before, when she'd moved to Europe at the beginning of the summer. Angel wasn't quite sure he wanted his friends to be together like that, what would happen if they argued? Who's side would he have to be on? He knew he was being selfish, but it was just they way he felt about the situation.

"Hey, Angel," Joe Nixon, a fellow classmate said. "See the hottie you were with outside. Did she ditch you?"

"Drop dead, Joe."

Xander returned in time to hear the last of the conversation, "What hottie?"

"I met this girl..."

"And?" Xander pushed.

"She went home," Angel replied.

Xander just shook his head, "At least tell me you got her number?"

"Nope."

Xander banged his head on the table, "You are such an idiot."

"I know."

Willow just shook her head at the guys behavior. Then got up, "Dance time Xander."

Angel watched his friends dance and let his mind slip away to Buffy. He knew one thing for sure, he was going to find her no matter how long it took or where he had to look. There was just something about her that drew him to her, like she was his destiny or something corny like that. Sighing he tried to keep his mind on the present and having fun with his friends - at least for now.

A fortnight after his initial meeting with the blond goddess of his dreams, Angel felt that he was becoming exaggeratedly infatuated. His obsession was not over school, his friends or even his settling of scores against the evil undead of Sunnydale; it was basically over Buffy - the mystery girl who had captured his every thought.

He had searched all over Sunnydale - from the good side to the bad side - for some indication of her existence, but as of yet he had not found such a thing. He was beginning to doubt that he had even met her in the first place, that she was just some figment of his subconscious. So instead of fighting the good fight or doing his homework, Angel simply lay on his lumpy old bed and did what he does best, he brooded.

In due course - after almost a month - he put her to the back of his mind and began to once again concentrate on his other commitments. For example the deal that Giles had made on his behalf with that malevolent bastard, Principal Snyder, which was enabling him to finish up his senor year at Sunnydale High with Xander and Willow. So between studying, hanging out with the gang and destroying the undead he managed to keep thoughts of her at bay - by and large.

To the run of the mill by-stander Angel looked and acted like the archetypal American male pubescent, only he - and a privileged few - knew that this was not exclusively true. There was a lot more to him than many guessed, that he had been through so much more than the average eighteen year old had. His entire family had been murdered, brutally and sadistically, from his elderly grandfather to his little sister and even though he had been at home with them that night, he was the only one who had survived the nightmare.

The horrifying truth was that he had bared witness to it all, that he had seen the creatures - not gang members like the Sunnydale Police Department had proclaimed to the media - they had been vampires. Creatures that were not believed to be real, that were merely a product of some drunken Irishman's imagination, killed his family.

Angel could not help but sometimes still feel a raging guilt over what had occurred, the shrink that had been assigned to his case by the county had simply informed him that it was what they termed survivor's guilt and that it would go away in due course. However Angel knew that it was more than that, that it was that he had survived because of his own dim-witted spinelessness.

When one of the many vampires’ had come after him, he was for the most part mortified to admit it now; he had run away from the massacre caring only for his own survival. Regrettably during his run for freedom he had tripped over his father's unresponsive cadaver and fallen straight onto the tiled floor of the family's kitchenette area. Reaching out in a blind panic - and drowning out the screams of his mother and sister - he grabbed the closest object to him, providentially for him it had been a broken leg off of one of the kitchen chairs.

As the vampire leaped towards him, Angel had held up his makeshift wooden dagger and closed his eyes in preparation for joining the members of his family in their perpetual slumber. After a few moments when nothing had happened, Angel had opened his eyes and found that there were no vampires in sight, merely an unfathomable cloud of dust and lifeless bodies of his loved ones lying in an assortment of positions around the tiny house.

The rest of that night was pretty much a blur to him; he could vaguely recall dialing 911 and Giles. Both parties arrived within seconds of each other at the residence and after an elongated and distressing questioning by the police he had been patched up at the local hospital and sent home with Giles.

Sighing roughly, Angel flipped over onto his side and stared out of his window into the surrounding darkness, wondering how and why it had to be his life that was so problematical. Surely he deserved a break now and then, a little diversion? With those stray thoughts his mind returned to the proscribed, Buffy, causing him to once again shift; this time to try and relieve a different kind of discomfort.

For the millionth time that very night Buffy cursed herself for her unbridled lack of common sense. Almost every night for the last two weeks she had pursued Angel around Sunnydale's abundant cemeteries and then back to his home, where she would stand outside staring at his window until she either felt the approach of the dawn or the pangs of hunger signalled the approach of something akin to blood lust. What was it about that boy - young man - that attracted her so?

If she were to be genuinely candid with herself she would have to acknowledge that Angel bore an uncanny similitude to the man she used to dream about before she had been turned into the creature that she was - and of course after. The man that her one time best friend Emmeline had teased her unmercifully about.

Unfortunately that was no more than part of it, from that individual epigrammatic meeting with Angel; she had seen into his very soul. One transient look into those deep brown eyes of his, that were the colour of the sweetest chocolate and she had been able to see all of the love, kindness and as you would expect the fear and hatred that he held within his young self.

On the other hand she had to stop kidding herself and start thinking with her brain and not her undead hormones. It could under no circumstances be. She was an abomination against The Powers That Be - a soulful one, but an abhorrence none the less - and Angel was a flesh and blood living being; somebody so above her that she would never be able to bridge the gap.

Things would be better if she merely did the job that she had been sent there to do and then get the hell off of the hellmouth. Who knew, maybe she would at long last go and visit the mother-country for the first time in over a century, a place that was far, far away from Angel.

Looking attentively up just once again at Angel's darkened bedroom window, she heaved a sigh and wandered unhurriedly away. Mentally she began to list the errands that she needed to complete before she headed out to do an additional sweep of Sunnydale's twelve cemeteries and hunting down her so-called brethren.

Top of her list was the butcher's shop for a fresh supply of blood - a necessary evil - and last was to collect some extra wood to shave into stakes. Sighing once more she kept herself walking away from him and setting herself a brand new task. This time it was a damned near impossible one, to banish Angel from her thoughts permanently.

Angel could candidly say he was having a bad day, or more accurately a really, really bad day. Firstly he had overslept - only because he'd spent he night tossing and turning over a certain blond - and arrived more than twenty minutes late for his first class.

Ordinarily he wouldn't care what time he showed up, but it was one of the small amount of classes he shared with both Willow and Xander and in addition to this fact his teacher was the born again Nazi, Mrs Wilson. After an elongated and tedious lecture from Mrs Wilson - the teacher from hell - and then another one from Giles about his lack of household chore completion, he was running late up until lunch time.

Sitting in the shad of a large tree in the park across from the high school with his childhood best friends, he could more or less believe that his day would improve. Unfortunately on his way back to them after a quick bathroom break he saw the two of them kissing and although he had suspected that something might be going on between the two of them, it was so much different seeing them.

Slipping back into school Angel found that he had left each and every one of his outstanding assignments at home and once again he was verbally raked over the proverbial coals. The day simply went from bad to worse from then on, more than ever when he was designated a new lab partner in chemistry, Harmony Kendall. That particular bimbo had been after him since junior high and since his taste did not as a rule run to moronic bimbos, he had kept clear of her until then.

Returning to the house as soon as school was over for the day, Angel concluded the chores that Giles had paid him out over and forced himself to do some mind-numbing homework. Just as darkness began to descend over the small town, he jumped into the shower and after rinsing himself clean of the day, he dressed in his standard outfit - a black shirt and black leather pants. Leaving before Giles returned from the teacher's meeting, he headed towards The Bronze hoping to catch Willow and Xander there and hang out before he went about his hobby.

And there he sat forty-five minutes later all alone - even though Harmony had certainly done her best to change that - because for once Xander and Willow had failed to show. Angel was just about to give up on them and head of towards the nearby cemetery when he spotted his mystery girl.

Buffy was hanging out adjacent to the entrance, next to the wall and looking exceedingly uncomfortable in the crammed full environment of the tiny club. Leisurely - more or less stalking - he headed towards her position, his heart beating more rapidly when he saw her ephemeral smile.

"Long time, no see."

"Angel," she whispered, his name crossing her lips as though she spoke it every day.

Angel moved in as close as he humanly could get to her, backing her up against the wall. Leaning into her he spoke, "So what have you been doing with yourself?"

"I've been - uh - keeping busy," she responded apprehensively as a lump formed in her throat and a diminutive segment of her long lost British accent slipped into her speech pattern. "You know - settling in and - uh - stuff."

Angel round about groaned in frustration when in her apprehension and after her little conversational piece she bit down on her lower lip. "If you'd have called me, I would have been happy to help you - uh - settle in." He wanted to add that he would of liked to help her with a lot more, but he some how managed to find the strength to restrain himself.

"I don't have y-your number," she stuttered nervously. "I have to go now."

Angel barely managed to keep up with her as he followed her out of The Bronze and as she took a shortcut through Restfield Cemetery. Then he got two major shocks, the first was the two vampires attacking form out of nowhere and the second was as he watched his latest obsession dust them with no effort.

He just stood there in silence as she walked away from the fight as composed as ever and he suddenly realized something, that Buffy must be one of the slayer's he had read about in those old musty books of Giles'. The delicious irony of this discovered fact amused him to no end, how more perfect could they be for each other?

Whistling a happy little Irish tune to himself, Angel forgot all about his hunt and headed for home suddenly unconcerned with any of the days problems. As far as he was concerned his dark little world had suddenly become a little lighter and he knew who had been responsible and could hardly wait for their next encounter.