A/N:hey all! i know it's been a long LONG time since i update or uploaded anything. but stuff been happening lately. like a guy. just dont ask. anyway i havent been up to writing alot lately and for awhile i was helping my friend Amy aka Shadow-Black-Panther with her stories. well enough of my excuses, on to the story!

The Bet: Chapter 1: Angelus!

Buffy sat at the bar, watching her boyfriend, Angel, play pool with various bikers. She sighed. He was lucky that she was in such a depressing mood today. Otherwise she never would have agreed to come to this dingy bar where all you could get on the ancient juke box was old classic rock hits. At the moment it was playing "Pour some Sugar on Me" by Def Leppard. She glanced around at the many tough looking thugs, bikers, and (no doubt) hookers. This was definitely not going to appear on her list of favorite places to visit. She had met her boyfriend of two years in their college psychology class. Ever since she had met him, they had been pretty friendly toward each other. It wasn't long till they were going steady. Since her parents had moved to Pennsylvania the year before, she was now living with him. They had made a pact; if he looked out for her, she would look after him.

She looked at her watch and realized it was well into the night. She got up and decided it was time that they head home. She walked over to the pool table where Angel was shooting pool with a Billy Idol look-alike, "Angel? Don't you think it's time we leave? Its getting really late and you have that job interview tomorrow, not to mention the fact that we have to start looking for an apartment…"

"Alright, alright," he brushed her aside and continued to play. "I bet you everything I own that I win this game."

"You're on," the peroxide blonde smirked, confirming what Buffy already knew: Angel was as drunk as a dog. He was most definitely going to have a hell of a hangover the next day.

"Angel, honey, don't you think we should…" Buffy said carefully. Even if a guy is a complete teddy bear, he will always act like an ass when given enough drinks.

"Buffy, be quiet, I have to make this shot or I lose," he snapped at her.

"Wouldn't hurt you, mate, to be civil to a lady," the badass raised an eyebrow in an amused manner.

It wasn't too long afterward that Angel could be heard ranting and raving like a lunatic all throughout the bar…he had lost, "Can't we come up with a trade off or something?"

"Well, Peaches, the way I see it, you either pay up or you give me something that is worth just as much," the biker smirked at Buffy at these last few words.

Angel, noticing this gesture, saw his chance to get out of having to lose everything. Being as out of it as he was, in his mind losing Buffy wasn't nearly as important as losing everything he had, everything he worked for, "I tell you what, I give you Buffy and 500 and we can just forget this little thing ever happened."

The leather clad biker looked Buffy up and down as she sat at the bar. It was better than nothing, "Done."

At that moment, Buffy hopped off her barstool and walked over to Angel and his companion, "Angel, can we please go home? I'm tired and it's 4 am. How can you possibly play pool any longer?"

"Change of plans, pet," the stranger spoke in a rich British accent. "You're going home with me."

"What!" Buffy blinked. What was this guy on? Did he have a few too many drinks too? "Angel? What's going on?"

"Sorry, Buffy, but I just can't afford to lose anything. My career is the most important thing right now," Angel shrugged.

"Angelus!" Buffy shouted at his retreating back. He had left her alone in a bar with a punk.

"Come on," he motioned for her to follow him, "let's go pick up some of your things from wherever you live."

She sulked out of the bar, following him to the back of the building, "What is that?"

"What?"

"That," she pointed at the black Harley motorcycle parked by the back door.

"That, is our ride," he told her. "Hop on."

He tossed her an extra helmet before straddling the piece of machinery. As soon as she was certain that her helmet was on properly, she uncertainly climbed onto the back. She was looking around for something that would keep her from falling off, but found none.

"Looking for something?"

"Yeah, you got any seatbelts on this thing," she replied as she continued her search.

He chuckled, "You sodding bint, just wrap your arms around my waist and hold on tight and you'll be fine."

She shot a glare at his back before doing as he had instructed.

"You okay back there?"

"Yeah," she replied.

"Okay, hold on tight. Let's go for a ride," he gunned the engine and pulled out onto the road.