Hey all. This is my newest endeavor here. I have not forgotten any of my other stories and will try to get to them soon. I just wanted to try something a little different. This really isn't a crossover with BTVS in the truest sense. I hope you'll enjoy it none the less.

Summary: Very AU fic. A twist on Pretty Woman. What happens when millionaire business woman meets a man in the oldest profession?

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

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Chapter 1: Bumping Uglies

Beverly Hills, California
June 2007

"What the hell is going on here?"

Now Cordelia Chase was never one to put her faith in signs but surely the sight currently blinding her had to be a signal of a coming apocolypse. Or at least proof that those evil hands of fate were giving her the bird. Unless she was mistaken, she could even hear the vindictive bitches cackling in the background.

No, that was the tacky Barbra Streisand music supposedly setting the mood.

The moans should have been the first clue, it was just that she couldn't seem to wrap her mind around the sounds. After all, who had sex to Barbra Streisand? So she had swung the bedroom door open wide curious about what the hell could have been going on but certainly not expecting this.

"Uh, Cordy, I can explain," came the choked reply along with a scramble of bodies as the two backstabbing assholes scrambled to cover their naked bodies. Both were out of breath, sweaty with skin slightly flushed. Maybe from pleasure. Or embarassment. A mixture of both?

"No really," she thrust one hand on her hip to stop it from shaking with fury. The other swept out in a wide gesture before joining it's partner fisted on the mint green lightweight linen dress she wore. "Unless I've stepped into an alternate universe, or completely lost my mind, I don't think an explaination is necessary."

The stiletto sandals were soundless on her rose tinted carpet as she crossed to her beautiful wrought iron sleigh bed that she would have to throw away. Damn it, she really fucking loved that bed! She spent weeks searching for the perfect bed and now it was ruined.

Her eyes took in the scene, several candles were scattered around the room, scenting the air with a now nausea inspiring vanilla almond. The expensive bottle of Saviginon from her wine cellar was open along with two of her beautiful glasses sitting next to it. Staining the wood of her nightstand.

Take a simple business trip to Paris for the week and return home two days early and find the world as you know it in chaos.

The slender blonde who she didn't neccessarily consider friend but wasn't a hated enemy either, scooted back as Cordelia approached the bed, trying desperately to cover her less than bountiful chest. With her Egyptian cotton sheets! "Now Cordelia-"

Cordy lifted a brow in astonishment, long mahogany curls brushing against her face as she shook her head with disbelief. "No you aren't speaking to me right now." And evidently the look was enough to shut the skank up.

The man she considered her boyfriend, and wasn't that such a childish word she realized suddenly, held both hands up in entreaty. Bastard was lucky she wasn't armed. No court in the world would convict her. How could they, look at the evidence: boyfriend of two years and blonde bimbo in her house, her bed having sex. Guilty as charged.

"Cordy, give me a chance to explain."

She looked him over, from the top of the damp brown hair that stuck to his head awkwardly, to his average features including those panicked eyes. He looked like a trapped rat. Now wasn't that a pleasant thought. She was keeping a rat for a boyfriend. Just how low had she sank?

Continuing her perusal on to his rather lanky chest and pale skin that led down beneath her beautiful comforter, she mentally chalked up another loss. The whole room would have to be exterminated, damn it! It was bad enough she would need bleach to scour that mental image of his skinny ass in the air as he had grunted while thrusting into... God her eyes!!!!!

"Xander Harris, go ahead. Explain. Explain why you and Buffy Summers are bumping uglies in my bed and maybe, just maybe I won't kill you where you stand."

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"So let me get this straight. That douche bag had the nerve to say he was screwing Buffy Summers in your bed and was your fault because you were always working."

"He said he had a better relationship with my executive assistant than with me."

"I'm surprised he wasn't fucking her then."

"Willow's gay."

"Oh."

Cordelia lifted her gargantuan glass, her tongue tracing the salted rim briefly before taking a long drink of the You-Need-A-Rita she ordered after entering the dark after hours bar.

Details was their place, found after their first year at USC when both women had been crashing from finals. Until they turned twenty one, neither had been able to do more than manage a pint if ale from Mike Corbin, the crabby bartender and owner. Upon their twenty first birthday, coincidentally during the same week, they graduated to their now normal pitcher of margaritas. Now whenever either had a problem, they would head over to Details for a drink and a girl-to-girl talk.

Cordelia figured being scarred for life deserved a pitcher or three.

The expensive tequila mixed with a perfect blend of fruit went down cold and smooth. At least it had after the third one. Nothing like alcohol to blurr reality and her reality sucked ass. Big Time.

"Yup," Cordy nodded slowly, before setting her glass down. The loaded potato skins and double battered shrimp appetizers sitting between her and her bestest girl had long since grown cold. Still, Cordelia figured as she lifted one starchy bite covered with a layers of bacon, chives, cheddar cheese and sour cream, maybe it would take some of the edge off the high she was currently riding.

"Bastard."

"Yup," Cordelia wobbled her head again. "How long have we been best friends Carly?"

The blonde opposite her, who was just as intoxicated, had to consider the question for a few moments. The glass in her own hand tilted percariously before righting and moving to red tinted lips. Carly Jacks took several swallows of her own drink and slammed the glass down, shaking the table dangerously.

Under normal conditions the millionaire heiress was never less than proper and sophisticated in both appearance and dress. Tonight she mirrored Cordelia sitting across from her, those long golden locks pulled back into a ponytail, a pair of tight low riding jeans and a fitted v-neck t-shirt that inspired more than one appreciative glance in their direction that evening.

"Since we were four years old," Carly warbled, holding up five fingers in miscalculation. She lifted her drink again in a silent toast and began singing in a loud off-key voice, "Your mother and my mother were sitting on a bench."

"Your mother told my mother that she was a bitch," Cordelia finished brightly reaching to touch the glasses together and missing, fluid sloshing over the side and onto her hand. Both women giggled, licking the wet from their skin and taking several more swallows.

"Almost twenty five years," Cordelia's solemn voice spoke after the silence grew between them, different than than her previous jovial laughter. "Where did I go wrong?"

"You didn't," Carly reached across the table, grabbing her hand and unfortuantely the gigantic pink diamond on her finger caught the light.

"That's why I'm thirty years old Carly," she sighed, "And I have nothing to show for it." Her lower lip trembled as she could hear the nagging voice of her mother echoing in her head.

Settle down with the right man, get married and have children. Stop trying to walk in a world you weren't meant to be in. Leave the business to men and take care of the babies and your man.

"Stop it!" Carly's voice was much harder than before, "You just stop it right there because I know what you're thinking. You're listening to your mother's voice."

"Maybe she's right, I mean, if Xander had to stoop to boinking Muffy maybe I did put business before our relationship."

"He was an asshat," Carly retorted, "You are the President of an international financial firm. Chase Inc. is one of Forbes top 100 companies and you were businesswoman of the year for two years straight. Jax says that when your name is mentioned people take notice. You deserve the respect I hear in his voice when he talks about a deal you pulled off. You worked hard to be taken seriously. Don't let your country club mother and cheating ex make you feel any differently."

That was a wonderful compliment coming from Carly's marvelously successful and wealthy corporate raider husband of three years. Except tonight it felt a little empty. When Carly went home, she would curl into bed with said corporate raider and bump some uglies of her own. After kicking Buffy out and tossing Xander and his few belongings to the curb, she would have to go home tonight alone.

Cordelia leaned over onto the table to whisper, "You want to know the worst part," she blinked several times, glancing around as if to see if someone was listening. "The worst part is that after I closed the door on Xander with all of his crap littering my yard, I was more angry about them ruining my bed than about breaking it off with him."

She lifted a saddened shoulder, "What does that say about me, Carly, that I was more focused on remodeling my bedroom than about breaking off a two year relationship?"

Xander might have been a mere corporate grunt but before betraying her, he had been kinda sweet when he wasn't being a complete buffoon. It wasn't that she was ashamed of him, but more that Xander's glaring differences made her uncomfortable in most situations.

He never went to social gatherings with her, but always expected her to do things with his friends and business associates. He always made her feel as if she were being a snob when she suggested that he might want a better evening suit or could possibly learn a few social graces so he wouldn't stand out like a sore thumb.

"I can't believe I went to a wrestling match," she mumbled, eyes widening briefly as she realized she said it aloud. A quick prayer hoping Carly hadn't heard went unanswered as she caught the expression on her best friend's face.

"Wrestling, wrestling, as in...wrestling?"

"Yes," she relented slowly. It wasn't that it was wrestling, okay, yeah it was, but it wasn't even the real stuff, like the men that were on television. It looked like some old wannabe retired athletes who didn't know that they were way past their prime. Gave a whole new meaning to pot bellies.

Carly's inelegant snort of laughter made her smile as well, "At least it wasn't a tractor pull."

"Snob," Cordy shook her head.

"Damn skippy. I don't mind sports, Jax has that box for Laker's games and I don't mind when we pack up the boys and go, but come on, that's like, like, the freaking roller derby."

"It's making a comeback." Cordy smirked.

"And I won't even ask how you know that." Carly groaned before draining the last of her drink. She prompty refilled it from the large pitcher sitting on their table.

"My point being," Cordy frowned, "What point was I making again?"

"That a prick like Xander Harris wasn't worth your time and you will not be depressed because you realized you loved your sleigh bed more than him. That was a gorgeous sleigh bed, it beat the loser hands down."

"It really was a beautiful bed," Cordy sighed longinly, "But no, my point is, I was more worried about the business deal that I need to close this week and how Xander's dick screwed up my plans. Sure I was angry, because he cheated on me with Muffy of all people, but deep down I knew that our relationship wasn't going any further than the spare toothbrush and the few changes of clothes he had left at the house."

Carly drew in a deep breath and exhaled it loud and free as the expression on her face changed. If Cordy didn't know better, she would swear that Carly was blushing except Caroline Spencer Jacks did not blush. The woman had more balls than most men, nothing could embarass her. "Look, I know you're probably in a crappy mood but I'm going to give you a little gift. I know it made me feel so much better after I broke up with Sonny."

Sonny Corinthos, self-made millionaire and shipping magnet, her high school sweetheart and the man everyone had been positive she would marry and settle down with. She had caught the Napoleonic bastard in bed with his attorney, so ending the epic romance of Carson as they had been affectionately called.

"Gift? What gift? Who gave it to you?"

"My aunt Laura but that isn't important. Just, just," she broke off with a shake of her head and reached for her purse. She pulled something out of her wallet and clenched it in her fist, her gaze pensive as she glanced around. "I'm going to show you something and you have to swear that you won't tell another soul."

Very buzzed on the alcohol she had been consuming, Cordelia couldn't help but giggle, "Is this like Mission Impossible, where you'll disavow any knowledge of my actions and the tape will self distruct in ten seconds?"

"I'm serious," and judging from the bite in her voice, Cordy realized she really was. Whatever Carly had clutched in her hand was important.

"Sorry, okay, I promise I won't tell anyone. Now what is it?"

Carly reached across the table and took her hand, turned it over and slipped something in her palm before folding her fingers over it and sitting back in her seat. It was obviously a business card but it was made of thin flexible plastic. Cordelia placed her hand in her lap before glancing down at what her best friend had given her. The card was black with japanese kanji printed in a sensual indigo. On the otherside was a phone number, and that was all.

"What is this?"

"Heisei."