Prologue.
London. 1802.
"You must destroy him. His future, the one that we see for him cannot be allowed to happen… The Slayer will die because of him, because she will be naïve enough to believe that he will never be able to hurt her. Do whatever is in your power to do it. Do not let him survive."
The man in the dark robe that had spoken stepped away from the young demoness in front of him. His superiors thought that she could handle this, that they could trust her to destroy someone so important to history. He had his doubts. Miranda Jacobs was powerful, seductive, and young. Her father had beaten her for years before she had run away. He didn't trust her. She was psychic, where he was not. She was more powerful than him and most his superiors, her Mother had been a God, one of the greatest, of all. She had her own dimension that she ruled in, and had abandoned Miranda only because she thought her daughter was dead.
Miranda knew nothing. Her father had told her that her mother was dead. She also didn't know that she would betray those that were counting on her the most. The ones that didn't want Angelus to see another day, and that wanted Buffy Summers to be the last slayer. Only he, Whistler knew what would happen, and only he could control the final outcome..
He left her then, his long black robes billowing out behind him as he strode away. Miranda watched him go, and closed her eyes. Already she had seen a very different outcome than the one that Whistler described to her. A future where Angelus lived, and fell in love with slayer; a future that involved everyone from Angel's "family", hers Drusilla, Darla, Spike. Vampires that existed and vampires that would, very soon.