Disclaimer: Not mine, Joss, ME, Fox, blah blah, whatever. I'm gonna get tired of putting this in every chapter REAL fast, I think.

Major love to Kimber, who emailed me about an hour after chapter two went up, having picked out how Xander, Buffy, Willow, Angel, and Oz's lives are different in this AU just by what's in Chapter 2. I'm seriously impressed, and Kim, when you figure out how I'm going to decide this will end, please let me know - I'm not sure, yet ;) Also some shout-outs to Mims (And yes, Xander is very excellent, even without powers. And yet…) Pikawhore, and Zac for the reviews. Mmm...reviews. They're like crack. I pray I'll eventually be at the point where I have too many to individually thank people, but till then, I LOVE you guys. Also - my Beta reader is going to Europe for a semester very shortly, leaving me left alone with my grammar and spelling. If anyone who reads this would be willing to save my life three million times over, PLEASE email me. I'm helpless. Really. Anyway. On with the show. Words = thoughts. Words = stressed. Nothing out of the ordinary.

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December 5th, 2000
The Magic Box
6:15 PM
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"Explain to me, again, why, on our night off, you and I are here, selling slug candles."

Xander Harris, diligently sorting through a large box of very smelly herbs, glanced quickly in the direction of the cast register, a lazy half smile spreading across his face. "Because, Buf, Giles has us very well trained. And he wanted to go with Jenny to Em's checkup. And you sent everyone else to rest up before patrol."

"Well," Buffy huffed, prodding at one of the machine's buttons sullenly, "We should be out doing something nice. Like seeing a movie. Or making out on your couch. Or doing anything but this."

"There is a couch in the training room…"

Making a face at him, Buffy dismissed the joking suggestion, though much to Xander's amusement, a blush rose in her cheeks, and a grin tugged the corners of her lips upwards. Her attention, however, drifted over towards the only other person in the store - a man, about her age, she wagered, who had been, apparently, fascinated with a display of books in a language she definitely didn't speak.

Check me out. Good saleswoman girl. Buffy the sales slayer.

"Sir, do you need any help?"

He jumped slightly at the sound of her voice, then turned, offering a vaguely sheepish smile. "Thank you, but no. I'm just looking." Their eyes met, and Buffy was struck with a very faint sense of déjà vu, looking at him. She was sure she'd recognize him, if she had met him before. He looked, and there was no other word for it, wholesome. Like he belonged on a farm, somewhere. He had a nice smile; slightly shaggy brown hair fall into his eyes, which particularly struck her as familiar - light blue, and, she thought, guarded.

Nice arms, the slayer noted, idly, Those are -good- arms to have.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Xander watching him with the same slightly bewildered expression that she was sure she, herself, wore. Unlike her, however, Xander scoped the man out in more than one way, sniffing the air so slightly that, had she not known him so well, she wouldn't have noticed. The abrupt darkening of his expression wasn't quite so subtle, nor was the suspicious narrowing of his eyes. She spotted it easily - and so did the mystery man. His reaction to the patented Xander-Glower, which had been known to cause even Angel to hesitate, surprised her as well. If he found it odd at the dark-haired man across the room was suddenly staring daggers at him, he didn't show it, instead he nodded slightly in Xander's direction, as if he had expected it.

"Mm-hmm. Good day to you both." His tone was cordial, but careful, as he nodded again, then crossed to the door in long strides, stepped out onto the street and, for the time being, out of their lives.

The moment the bell jangled and the door shut, Buffy turned on her heel, staring at Xander expectantly. "So what was that?"

"He smelled funny. Not…wrong, exactly, not like a demon. Just funny. He's human. I think. But something's not right." Xander shook his head, trying to place what was off about the man's scent.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. She trusted Xander when it came to that sort of thing, it came with werewolf territory. He and Angel, both, were generally very good at picking out demons and vampires out by scent, though for Xander it had taken some practice. But, then, She was also able to pinpoint the non-human variety of people easily, herself. And he had seemed perfectly human, right and all, to her. Still…in five years of knowing Xander, she hadn't often seen him grow that hostile that fast before. "Well, he didn't buy anything, and he didn't seem demonish, so it probably doesn't matter. Chances are, we'll never see him again."

Shrugging, Xander returned to the box he had been organizing, nodding silent agreement. In the back of his mind, however, a tiny voice commanded him to memorize the way that man smelled, and the goose bumps on his arm, present since the moment he really looked at whoever-he-was, unnerved him. No matter. Buffy was right, really. They'd probably never see him again. "So, Buffy. It's almost closing. About that couch…"

"Give a sec to lock the front door."

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December 5th, 2000
Richard Wilkins Memorial Cemetery
12:48 AM
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"Slow night," Willow observed, casually perched one of the solid granite steps leading up towards the mausoleum she and Angel were staking out.

Angel nodded, toying with the dagger tucked into his belt. "Usually is, after the full moon. We could probably head in early, if you feel like it. Obviously, there isn't a whole lot going on here, tonight."

Yawning, Willow straightened, rubbing a kink out of neck absently. "Now that I wasn't the first one to suggest it, lets go. It's not like Buffy and Xander stay out as late as they say they do every night, either. Your apartment or my dorm?"

"You know your roommate scares me."

"Yeah, she scares me, too. Come protect me, you man, you."

They walked in silence to the campus of Sunnydale University, fingers interlaced, simply enjoying each other's company. It wasn't often enough they were alone together in a non-slaying capacity. But then, few of the 'Scooby gang' ever got the tranquil time they deserved.

A single other student loitered in the dormitory hallway, seemingly studying a flyer tacked to a bulletin board. He glanced at Angel and Willow as they passed, only long enough for Angel to get a decent glance at him - brownish blond hair, blue eyes, and a stance just a little too carefully casual to be natural. There was something off about the boy, the vampire decided, turning his head slightly to look again, once they had passed him. He smelled odd. Not odd enough to be of any worry. He was probably just drunk.

Willow pulled him inside her room, and any thoughts given to the drunken boy were left outside as the door swung shut.

A moment later, the being inhabiting the body of Riley Finn memorized the number of the room the pair had just gone into, then walked down the hall in the opposite direction.