Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Angel or anything to do with them. I don't even own the song Brown Eyed Handsome Man, OK?

Brown Eyed Handsome Man

Sunnydale, 2001

"You're kidding, right?" Buffy asked Giles. He shook his head.

"You want me to go back to 1958?" Giles nodded. "And you want me to go back to 1958 to prevent an evil prophecy from coming to pass?" Giles nodded again. Buffy rubbed her temples. She was getting a headache.

"Why can't poodle-skirt slayer do it?" Buffy asked.

"We've looked into it. The slayer in late 1958 is a fourteen-year-old North Korean girl. Even if she could get away to go to Sunnydale, she'd never be allowed into the country."

"So it's easier to send Buffy back in time than get some girl a visa?"

"Well... Yes. Buffy, don't worry about it. You'll leave tonight..."

"Tonight?"

"Yes." Buffy sighed. "But when you return, you'll return just a few minutes after you left. You won't miss anything here."

"I have no way of talking my way out of this, do I?" She asked. Giles just shook his head.

"OK. When do I go? Can I take anyone with me?"

"No. It's enough trouble to send you back." Giles told her. "Don't worry about it Buffy. I wouldn't allow you to do anything dangerous. Now, when you arrive, you enrol at Sunnydale High.

"No! I'm not going back there!"

"Please, listen. You will enrol at Sunnydale High. The prophecy, unfortunately, means that in the two weeks before, a large number of vampires will swarm to town."

"So it'll be slay-heavy before the prophecy itself?"

"Yes. Then, it's really very simple. There is a vampire queen by the name of..." Giles paused to read his notes. "Johanna. She wants to open the Hellmouth."

"Don't they all?"

"But this isn't as simple as that. She doesn't want to simply open it, she wants to enlarge it several times over so that, in effect, more demons can get out in less time."

"I just knew someone would find a way to destroy the world with efficiency. It's not fair."

"I know Buffy. All you have to do is destroy Johanna and her amulet."

"Oh! She's got an amulet! How come I'm not even remotely surprised! Don't these guys come up with anything new?"

"Well, it's actually old, when you think about it." Giles said. Buffy fixed him with a glare.

"If you start trying to explain time travel, I'm going to go cross-eyed, then I'm going to kill you by force-feeding you pints of Darjeeling tea." She threatened. Giles laughed.

"That's a good one."

"Thanks." She grinned. "When do we do this?"

"Sunset."

"Great. I'm off home. I'd better talk to Dawn."

"Buffy... You'll only be gone from here for a minute or two."

"I know. But if something goes wrong..." She let the sentence hang in the air. Giles understood. If Buffy died there... He dreaded to think of the ramifications.

"Angel?" She'd decided to call, just in case. Dawn had seemed more impressed than worried, and Buffy was pleased. She just hoped she'd didn't screw this up.

"Buffy?" He sounded confused.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, you're probably busy."

"No, it's fine. It's great to hear from you. Is everything OK?"

"Yeah. I just... You're not going to believe this."

"Try me."

"I've got to go back to Sunnydale in 1958 and stop a vampire queen opening the Hellmouth."

"Why did you think I wouldn't believe you?"

"I.... Don't know. I bet you get strange stuff in LA, huh?"

"A fair amount."

"Where were you in '58, Angel?"

"I uh.... I can't remember." He said after a lengthy pause.

"You had a soul then, right?"

"Yeah. I was a good boy." He said. She could practically hear his half- smile down the phone.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you, in case... You know."

"I know. You'll be fine Buffy."

"I hope so."

"You will be." Angel reassured her.

"Thanks. Well, I'd better go." Buffy said reluctantly.

"Bye Buffy." He said warmly.

"Bye." She said, putting the phone down.

"OK, I'm ready." Buffy said.

"Step into the circle." Willow instructed. She and Tara had a spell all ready laid out in the Magic Box. Buffy stepped into the circle, and listened, apprehensive, as her friends began to chant. She closed her eyes.

"Is that it? Are we done?" She asked. Getting no reply, she opened her eyes. Instead of the Magic Box as she knew it, she was standing in the 1958 version, beside a shop-owner just like Giles.

"Are you Miss Summers?" He asked. He, like Giles, was English. He was wearing a traditional tweed suit, the kind of which she hadn't seen Giles wear since he was librarian.

"Yeah." She said, suspiciously.

"Don't be alarmed. There has been some communication between now and the future, your time. I'll be assisting you over the next couple of weeks, and when the time comes to send you back."

"Are you...."

"A watcher? Yes dear. I'm Philip Charlton. You can stay with me for the duration of your stay. I'm sure Sunnydale isn't much different to the one you know."

"Lots of demons?" She asked. He nodded.

"Afraid so."

"Same old Sunnydale." She said with a laugh. He looked at her tight little halter-top and skirt.

"You'll need new clothes." He pulled a bag from behind the counter. "I had something purchased for you just in case." She looked in the bag. A sweater and poodle-skirt.

"If you don't like it, you can get something else. But perhaps you should wear this in the meantime." Buffy nodded.

"Thanks Charlton." She smiled. "Got somewhere I can change?"

"The backroom." He pointed to what, in 43 years' time would be her training room. She emerged five minutes later in a powder blue skirt, a white sweater a little tighter than she felt comfortable in, and she'd put her hair into a ponytail, like she'd seen the girls in Grease wear.

"Much better." Charlton said.

"Thanks." She said. He held the door open for her, and they went out into the day.

"It was sunset when I left home." She commented.

"It was decided to send you back earlier in the day. We didn't think you'd want to arrive and have to start slaying immediately."

"Good idea." She looked down Main Street. Elegant looking cars made their way down the street, while it was exactly as she imagined it- a typical fifties main street. The Sun Cinema was exactly as it was now, except instead of Tomb Raider with Angelina Jolie, the movie was The Young Lions with Marlon Brando, Dean Martin and Montgomery Clift.

"Is it what you expected?" Charlton asked. She nodded.

"Pretty much. It looks nice." She said. They passed the Espresso Pump, except in 1958, it was a flourishing malt shop called Walker's, full of high school students. Next door was Sandra's Boutique.

"We should perhaps get you some clothes?" Charlton suggested.

"How can I afford it?"

"The Watcher's Council is paying all your expenses. They wired me some money yesterday."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Anything you need. Anything at all."

"Shopping.... Unlimited... I like it here." She said, going into the boutique.

They emerged a considerable time later with several large, full bags of clothes. She'd gone for a part Sandy, part Rizzo wardrobe, being torn as to what she would wear. Then, Charlton took her back to his house, which was actually on Revello Drive. It wasn't quite the same as she remembered it, and her exact house hadn't yet been built, but it was still Revello Drive.

"Thanks Charlton, you've been a great help." She said, as he put a plate of dinner in front of her.

"A watcher's duty, Miss Summers." He said.

"You can call me Buffy. You know, in that exasperated way?"

"I don't believe I know what you mean."

"Don't worry, you will." She grinned, and tucked into her food. By the time she'd finished, it was dark, and she put on her new clothes- this time pedal pushers and a halter, complete with sandals.

"You'll be OK on your own?" Charlton asked. She nodded.

"I'll be fine. I might stop off at the Bronze afterwards." She stopped. "Is there the Bronze here?"

"Bronze?"

"Club, for the high school kids." She translated.

"I'm afraid that Walker's is the only place. I rather suspect that Sunnydale now is a lot smaller than you're used to."

"You can say that again. How many cemeteries are there?"

"Six."

"Oh. Cool. Less than I'm used to."

"How many are there in 2001?"

"Thirteen." She said. His mouth dropped open, calculating just how many Sunnydale residents would have to die in the next forty years to fill another seven cemeteries.

"Be careful." He said as she went out.