Apologies for taking so long to update. Life got in the way – but it's an extra long chapter so hopefully that makes up for it.

To those who have reviewed – thanks for your kind words. And to MadBrilliant1880 and Macala Armstrong – is it who you thought it was?

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters/places in this story. I wish I did, but I don't.

He glanced in the mirror and assessed his outfit. Dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a deep blue shirt he looked good. No question, but he frowned. Too smart? He sighed and reached for a black t-shirt. That was better – a little bit more casual and although the top wasn't tight, it certainly highlighted his fantastic physique.

Running his hands through his raven black hair, he grinned. Perfect. Grabbing his backpack, he stepped out of his apartment and jumped on his motorbike to race across town.

By the time he reached Stevenson Hall it was approaching 10am. Grabbing a bench which gave him a good view of the dorm exit he pulled out a law book and began pretending to read, while keeping half an eye on his surroundings. He knew Buffy and Willow had Introduction to Psychology that morning and factoring in the five minute walk across campus they would likely be leaving any minute now.

Sure enough, the petite blonde strode confidently out of the building. Wearing a simple white vest top and an embroidered black knee length skirt, she looking stunning. She had clearly foregone straightening her hair that morning and it fell in gentle waves around her shoulders, glistening in the sun. She was captivating – even if he didn't have to watch her, he knew he would struggle to keep his eyes off her.

Giving her a head start, he fiddled with his book and bag before carefully following her as she threaded her way through the grounds of UC Sunnydale to her first class of the day. He slowed as she looked around, had she clocked him?

Her slayer senses were going into overdrive again. Whoever, or whatever, it was that she had felt yesterday was here. She scanned her surroundings, but all she could see were the throngs of students drifting around.

Glancing back, her breath caught as he walked towards her and then past. Easily six foot tall, he towered above her. With a body to die for, chiselled good lucks, piercing blue eyes and jet black hair he was, to be perfectly frank, gorgeous. 'Like Angel' she thought ruefully.

Looking at her watch, she cursed under her breath and sprinted into the building and down the corridors.

"Ah, Miss Summers – so glad you could join us this morning!" Buffy winced as Professor Walsh span to greet her.

"I'm sorry. I, uh, I got held up, it…" she stuttered. The female psychology lecturer held her hand up.

"I don't expect or accept excuses. Take a seat or leave, your choice but do not hold this up any longer," she virtually barked as the slayer squirmed under the gazes of Walsh, her teaching assistant and the class. Her cheeks burning, she silently slipped into the seat beside her best friend. The redhead gave her a sympathetic smile.

By early afternoon Buffy was ravenous. After the humiliating start to her morning, she had buried herself away in one of the huge libraries on campus desperately trying to finish a history essay for the following day. With her nightly patrols, she struggled at times with the workload and often played catch up during the day.

She checked the time and cursed again. She was supposed to be meeting the guys for lunch in the campus canteen and she was going to be late. Stuffing her books into her bag, she dashed off. Ten minutes later she had spotted her friends, rolled her eyes when Willow pointed to the clock and joined the queue for some much needed nourishment. As she waited, she considered the uneasy feeling that she had yet to shake. Someone was watching her, had been watching her for the past day or so and her conversation with Giles hadn't exactly been illuminating.

Apparently 'shadowy figures' could be anything and things that just vanish into thin air could be figments of her imagination – not that the former watcher had actually said that, but the implication had been there.

Despite regular sweeps of her surroundings, she had come up with nothing. Zero. Zilch. All seemed perfectly normal. Perhaps it was just her mind – but then the last time they thought she was being paranoid, it turned out she had been rooming with a demon from another dimension who wanted Buffy to go back there in her place!

She was still musing on this as she absently picked up a cup of orange juice and added it to her collection of goodies - a baguette, fresh fruit, and less than healthy chocolate muffin. After swiping he meal card, she turning around and slammed into something hard and fell back, the contents of her tray spilling all over the place.

"Are you ok?" He asked, bending down. She looked up and found herself staring into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She nodded, unable to find her voice.

"I guess I wasn't really looking where I was going, I'm sorry. Here let me help," he continued, offering her his hand. Buffy took it and he pulled her up. Glancing down she realised her orange juice had spilled over her new top.

"I'm sorry about that – it looks like I've wrecked that. I'll replace it, I promise," he said, gesturing at her vest as he collected the strewn items of food that should have been her lunch.

"No – it was me. I was daydreaming…"she trailed off. It was him – the hunky guy she had seen earlier. She rubbed her elbow.

"Are you hurt?" Concern flooded across his features.

"No – it's just a little sore. You're hard!" Her eyes widened as she realised what she had said. "I mean, firm. No! I mean - it's just. You're very…well built…"she babbled as she felt her face flush, as he laughed.

"It's ok, I know what you mean. And thanks – I think," he smiled. Embarrassed, she began to turn away.

"Wait! Can I buy you lunch?" he called out.

"I don't know – I'm meeting my friends," she bit her lip and gestured at the Scoobies who had been watching the unfolding scene with amusement.

"Please? It's the least I can do. Plus – I don't really know anyone here. I promise I won't throw any more food over you…"He flashed his most charming smile, the one that made all the girls melt (or so he was told). She felt her stomach flutter Oh boy. I'm in trouble!

"I guess it'd be ok if you sat with us. But you don't have to pay," she sighed.

"I want to. Least I can do." He repeated.

"If you're sure,"

"I am!" He grabbed another tray and after filling it up they headed over to the gang.

"These are my friends - that's Willow, Oz and Xander!" she gestured. "Oh – and I'm…"

"Buffy Summers," he interrupted.

She looked at him, her eyes clouded over. "How did you…"

"You dropped your student card – it had you're name on. At least I'm assuming it's yours?" he responded easily. Placing the tray on the table, he then fished the card from the side and held it out to her.

"Oh. Thanks." She blushed.

"And you are?" Xander piped up.

"Right, sorry! I'm Richard. Richard Grayson – but mostly people just call me Dick."