Title: The Games We Play Rating: Very R Pairings: B/A, B/R, A/numerous Disclaimer: Not mine, not ever, End of story. Summary: AU-A Cruel Intentions spin on the Buffy World. Socialite Buffy Summers and her charming stepbrother Angelus make a little bet and so begins a twisted game of seduction and love . Author's Notes: You don't have to have watched the movie to understand the story, but if you haven't seen it I highly recommend watching this teen classic of my generation (lol, how sad is that?). One final note, the ending will not be the same as the film's because let's just say I ship Kathryn/Sebastian g

Prologue--The Games We Play

"Oh Sweetheart, he is just about the most perfect man I have ever met. He is fabulous! Absolutely fabulous!!" Joyce walked back and forth on the China carpet of the lush room gushing about her new beau, not even remotely aware that it was fueling the irritation inside her daughter.

Buffy sat at her vanity table and gripped her eyeliner tightly as she listened to her mother once again enunciated the word fabulous.

Closing her right eye, in one flawless motion she skillfully swept the pencil from her inner eye to outer leaving the desired smoky black trail.

"You wouldn't believe how much we have in common plus there are so many things we-" Joyce stopped for a moment from her one sided conversation to quickly glimpse over at her daughter who was now putting away her make up back into its black case.

"Oh Honey, that's too much eyeliner. Take some of it off, you look like a whore" Joyce briskly said, somehow in her own special "Joyce" way, she had made even those cold words to her daughter sound sympathetic. Not even a full second had passed before she was once again ignoring her daughter, absorbed in singing the praises of her boyfriend.

"Well you should know, mother." Buffy calmly bit back not showing an ounce of emotion as she put the last piece of make up, a tube of mascara, into the case.

Joyce stopped mid sentence and looked slightly taken back, whether it was from being interrupted or the comment itself which had been directed sharply at her, Buffy couldn't tell. However, a look of anger soon replaced the shock.

"Watch your mouth young lady. I refuse to have you embarrass me in front of Ethan tonight and if you do so help me god I'll..."

"What mother? You'll what?" Buffy challenged coolly turning around in her revolving silk imported chair to face Joyce. A moment of silent tension between mother and daughter hushed across the room.

Joyce took a deep breath before she started to speak, "Buffy, you're a smart girl. What was it again? 4.0 average? Top of your class? So I should assume you will also be smart enough, especially having me as your mother, that you don't want to mess with me or believe me when I say you will face consequences. Am I making myself clear?" Buffy stood up from her chair, still showing no emotion, and took one step forward so to position herself face to face with her mother.

"Crystal" she smiled sweetly.

"Good" Joyce paused leaving an unseen emphasis as she turned and made her lengthy way to the exit. She stopped just short of the door, before turning the knob she added, "And make sure you look decent. We're meeting Ethan and his son in an hour"

Buffy's eyes widened, "He has a son?"

"Yes, I believe his name is Angel" Joyce said without glancing back as she left.

Buffy stood still for a minute before turning to walk over to her generous closet, thoughts racing her mind. What kind of a name was Angel she thought.

"Probably some whiny little brat whose best friend is his gameboy" Buffy answered aloud to no one in particular. If they thought she was giving up her Friday nights to baby-sit the kid they deserve to be beaten to death.

Buffy skimmed through her closet mostly consisting mostly of expensive black designer fashion. Occasionally something of a deep red or mauve would peep its head out of the rack, but it was safe to say she had every shade of black known to man kind lined neatly in a row.

She heeded her mother's warning as she picked out her outfit for her introduction to Ethan, the new man in Joyce's life. Her mother had went to Palm Springs last month for her annual debutante reunion unbeknownst to Buffy who hardly noticed the absence of her mother's presence. Her mother was always going somewhere. One week later, she came back like a love struck school girl yammering on and on about some rich handsome lawyer who swept her off her feet. He was vacationing from upper Manhattan at his summer home in the Springs.

Since then, every day for the last few weeks Joyce had spent the night with this Casanova. It made Buffy want to vomit violently in pure disgust.

Digging into the deep abyss of her wardrobe, Buffy pulled out exactly what she was looking for, a cream colored button-up blouse with matching cardigan in tact on the wooden hanger. First Impressions were everything, right? And Buffy had to make the right imprint of the sweet dutiful daughter in the mind of what most likely to be her new stepfather. It was going to be dreadful.

She already had her hands full keeping Joyce thinking she was still the dainty princess of Manchester Prep, not that it was a particular arduous task. With all the drinking and frequent black outs her mother had, it only took a few white lies and fabricated sleep over stories here and there to cover up her tracks, but now she was going to have her mother's new fling and his son to worry about.

A stepbrother.

God how those words left a foul taste in her mouth. Her body wanted to hurl itself down a flight of stairs on to something sharp, perhaps, at the nauseating thought of another head in the house to fight, feed, and fool. Despite the repulsion at the notion a step brother, somewhere deep down in the hindmost region of her mind toyed with the idea of how it would be to have a sibling.

She, herself, was an only child. Buffy was sure that shortly after her mother had had her, Joyce got her tubes tied and then double knotted just for extra precautions. She was a mistake that ruin her mother's life as Joyce so loved to regularly remind her.

There were no "what ifs" for Buffy when it came to this topic though, she was delighted Joyce never generated any more of the Summers' DNA out there and moreover that she was the only one in the litter. After all, Summer's women had a habit into turning into bitches.

Anyway, she would have felt sorry for any child forced to have the negligent witch for a mother. The poor kid probably would have turned out as messed up as she was.

Gently placing the clothes she took out from the closet on the bed, Buffy walked over to the armoire and pulled out the simple black Donna Karan skirt that went with everything.

There, her ensemble was completed. She slid her curvaceous body into the clothes finding the blouse a little more tight than she remembered it being. Quickly slipping into her new Jimmy Choos, Buffy grabbed a comb tidying the golden blonde waves of her hair. She was a mendacious image of perfection and innocence. Lovely.

Buffy placed the comb back on the table and turned towards the door.

Time to meet the family.