When Angel woke, the first thing he was aware of was the aching. Tendrils of pain shot through his limbs, and he gave a soft groan as he scraped his flesh against the cold, rough surface underneath his back. His head was pounding painfully and he was ice cold.

It took a few minutes for everything to sink in through the drunken haze.

Squinting blearily, he finally realised that all was not as it should be. Never in his life had he slept somewhere so uncomfortable. At least all those other times he had woken up after a night he couldn't quite remember, he had had a pillow, or a cover. Here, he had nothing at all to shield him from the chilly breeze.

It was clear this wasn't his apartment. There were no silk sheets ,or thick mattress. There was no warm shower waiting for him, with a smart change of clothes. He doubted very much that with one call, room service would be delivered, with some Aspirin to sooth his banging headache. All of the usual comforts that usual surrounded him were gone- and although he had always been sure that he could live without them, he was definitely missing them now.

So he wasn't at home. Where the hell was he?

He opened his eyes slowly and warily, and was greeted with the sight of sky, far above him- marred slightly by the cluster of rooftops but it was still there, bright and blue. This meant he was outdoors.

And naked. Butt naked. Outdoors. Crap.

Struggling, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing as the gravel he laid on scratched the palms of his hands.

He was in an alleyway. It was dark and constricted, the only light coming from the patch of sky he had been staring at previously. It was dirty and smelt like damp and booze. Other than him and his scattered clothes, it was entirely empty, save an upturned empty barrel that had once held beer.

Shivering slightly, he climbed unsteadily to his feet and began to collect his scattered clothing. His head throbbed as last night's events returned in a painful flood. He remembered the woman, hair glossy black, lips ruby red, skin smooth as silk, and warm against his, her eyes, hazel, flecked with gold-

Great. Just fantastic. He was one of the city's top lawyers. He wasn't a hormonal teenager anymore- he was 26 years old, for God's sake. Screwing some chick in a strange alley in the middle of the night when he should have been at home, or even at the office? Great. Very mature.

When Angel was fully dressed, he stretched, as his muscles screamed in pain. Every inch of him hurt. All he wanted to do was go home, maybe get a massage and collapse into bed for the rest of the weekend. Thank God he wasn't in work today. He would have had even more explaining to do.

With a sigh, he realised there was no way out. He began hammering on the door that lead to the bar, each bang sending a shot of pain along his arms and to his head.

After ten minutes, he began to shout. He was tempted to just kick it down- he restrained himself. He had done enough childish things last night.

Finally, a bleary eyed man came to the door, in a greasy vest and a long black robe. After mumbling a few swear words, he let Angel in. Grabbing his jacket and tie where he had left it on the bar the night before (thanking the heavens above it hadn't been stolen, as it contained his wallet and car key's) and fled into the harsh sunlight. He merged among the crowds, thankful that this place was such a dump nobody he associated with would recognise him. He almost laughed at the though. Why would anyone he knew be hanging out in this run down dump? It may have been appealing as a young student but now even he could see that we didn't belong here. He belonged in a different world, aside from dirty pubs, filthy alleys...mysterious women, in the middle of the night…

He made it to his car, which he had parked round the corner. Feeling slightly surprised that it hadn't been stolen or vandalised, he climbed in and breathed in the expensive smell of the leather seats and the trim interior. This was part of the world he belonged in. Expensive cars, grand apartments, respectable job…

Sighing, he turned on the engine, and speeded away from the memories of the night before.

When he finally pulled up smoothly outside his apartment, he parked and walked into the building, conscious of his crumpled shirt and his overall state of disarray. He made it up to his apartment without too many dirty looks. Everyone knew Angel Smith. He was one of the richest people in the buildings, and had been a resident for just over a year or two. He lived in the penthouse, the most luxurious suite in the whole place- one of the best in the whole city- of course people looked up to him.

Not to mention the fact he was one of the best lawyers money could buy.

In a matter of minutes, he was in the shower, underneath the spray, as the hot water coursed over his lean body and wiped away the dirt, soothing the aches and pains. He shampooed and rinsed, watching as the bubbles ran down his muscular chest. He just wished he could wash and scrub away the memories of last night, with the mystery brunette stranger as easily. He got the feeling he wouldn't be forgetting her any time soon. Just the thought of her gave him a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. He didn't usually get this uneasy feeling, after he used to have one night stands. Then again, maybe he had just forgotten. After all, he hadn't had a one night stand in a long time. And for good reason.

Slowly, he heard the shower door slide open as somebody climbed in beside him. The door shut again, as the water sprayed over their bodies. Hands crept up his chest, resting on his shoulders as a mouth met his and pushed him against the tiled wall.

Hot breath warmed his neck as he leaned down and continued to kiss the naked woman in front of him.

Miles away, in a smaller flat, "Anne" stood in front of a large mirror in her bathroom. She slipped down the straps of her tight dress and let it fall to the floor. Stepping out of it, she kicked off her heels and leant down to rub her aching feet. With a yawn, she began slowly wiping off her make up, watching as her face became less natural, less garish. Shivering slightly in her underwear, she began to run the shower, waiting for the water to get warmer. Returning to the mirror, she studied her reflection, biting her lip nervously as she stared critically. As the steam began to fill the bathroom, she sighed, reaching up and fiddling with her hairpins. A second later, long, blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders like a golden fountain, the glossy brunette wig in her hand as she ran her fingers through her real hair.

"Buffy! Are you gonna be long in there?"

The voice from the living room in the flat made her jump. Composing herself, she made her voice calm and natural.

"I'm just taking a shower. I won't be long."

There was a mumbled reply. She didn't bother pretending she had heard. All she wanted to do was take a long hot shower and try to wash away the dirty feeling that covered her.

Ta-da!Hope you enjoyed it and thank you to the people who reviewed the first chapter. Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

But now I need you help- most of my stories contain the typical Buffy-Angel-Cordy love triangle. To help me out please review and say whether you think the girl in the shower should be her, or somebody knew. It's up to you.

Press the button. It makes me happy.