Enchantment

Disclaimer: I don't own BtVS. Any characters you don't recognize are my own creation.

Summary: This is pure B/A with a little W/O and X/C thrown in to switch things up. Buffy and Angel meet in 1876 Ireland. After being attacked, they are magically sent into the future (2000s, I'm not sure when specifically). Please review, I'm trying to start up this story after years (literally, years). I hadn't been sure where I wanted to go with the plot, so advice is appreciated!

Chapter 1

1876, Ireland

As he watched the girl by the fire, he became anxious with suspicion. The young woman could not be any older then twenty and she was alone in the woods, by a fire in the middle of the night. He moved from his position in the bushes where he hid, his eyes still on her, to a closer spot by a tree. He moved swiftly, silently. There was something off about her, but he didn't back off. As he watched her stand up from her seat on a rock, he wondered what she would be doing under a full moon. Being outside, alone, during a full moon was a dangerous thing. He was the existing proof of why it was so dangerous and forbidden.

His name was Angel. He was a vampire, a creature of the night. He was cursed with a soul after he fed off a beloved gypsy girl. He was quiet and minded his business, feeding off of the blood of filthy rats. He had just came back from doing his share to keep this new town safe from any unwelcome visitors when he saw fire light in the woods. That's when he saw her.

By the looks of her, he would guess she was a witch, or a gypsy. They have a unique aura to them, and he sensed something un-normal about her. She had long, wavy blonde hair. She was petite, about a foot smaller than his six feet, and a trim curvy figure. She wore a flowing dress of black silk that dipped low into her chest. The top was a corset and she had a hooded cape loosely tied to a comfortable fit around her neck. He watched.

She jogged to her right for about five feet and did a flip, landing in a tumble. He moved a little closer. She flipped backwards towards the fire, stopping a couple feet in front of it in a fighting stance. The look on her face told him she was in deep concentration. She threw a couple punches into the air and then kicked to her side. She stopped, and paused, looking around as if she felt someone watching her. She jumped up and kicked, gently landing with a soft thud on the soft grass. A few roundhouses, punches, and blocks to an invisible attacker later, she stopped. Now convinced that she wasn't alone, she walked counterclockwise around the fire and started walking towards Angel. He dared not move and stood completely still. She paused, and then ran to where he was hiding. She jumped in front of him, holding a silver dagger towards his throat. Her emerald green eyes shined with danger, a warning in its own not to move or he would be dead.

"Who are you and what were you doing watching me?" Her voice was soft but threatening. He didn't know how to reply and she pushed the dagger closer towards his throat.

"Angel," his reply was quiet. He looked at her closely, finally realizing why she seemed so off. Every generation a girl was a chosen to defend the world against the demons and creatures and vampires. She was the slayer. This girl with a dagger up to his throat was the Slayer. "You're the slayer," his voice was confident and she looked startled.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing. What is your name?"

"That's not your concern. Why were you watching me?" She dropped the dagger from his throat, still keeping it in her hand in case he made a move towards her.

"I saw a fire. You shouldn't be out here alone. This part of the woods isn't safe for a young girl to be out here alone."

"I can take care of myself."

"Well, it's amazing how most slayers die. Slacking off, not paying close attention, being ambushed in a trap. Talking to vampires."

Hearing his last comment, she gasped, her eyes going wide, realizing how open to an attack she was. Her free hand made a fist and solidly connected with his jaw, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the night. He didn't react.

"I don't want to hurt you." His voice was still gentle; he could feel her fear deep down inside of him. She took a step back, but kept herself on alert, her body tense. He spoke again, looking into her eyes. She stared back, his dark eyes looking like pools of Spanish chocolate. For a moment she was lost in his dark, brooding looks. He had black hair, down to his cheekbones. His face was clean-shaven and pale. His lips were a reddish pink, enticing her to kiss him whenever he spoke. He was tall, a foot taller then herself, and muscular. His white shirt was slightly unbuttoned and she got a glimpse of his strong chest. "I want to help. Don't be afraid of me." She nodded once, unsurely. "What is your name?" He asked her again, hoping for an answer.

"It's not your concern."

"I'm Angel. I'll be seeing you around. You can count on it." He started to walk away when she called out to him.

"Buffy!"

"What?" He was confused. What was a 'Buffy'?

"My name. It's Buffy. I guess you should know it if you're intent on seeing me again." He smiled, and she blushed, looking down at the ground. Why did he make her turn to complete mush? She should be careful, secretive. No one should know anything about her. If too many people die, and the vampires find out who she is, it's all over with. He turned on his heel, grinning, and walked away. She stared after this mysterious Angel and wondered when she would see him again.