Title:  Snake Eyes (3/?)

Disclaimer:  I own nobody.  The shareholders of WWE, Inc. and Joss Whedon own the rights to anything you recognize in this fic.  To the General Counsels of WWE and Mutant Enemy Productions:  If you so desire, sue me.  It will just give me a chance to sink my teeth into a fun case for a change.    

Spoilers:  Takes place immediately following the 7/8/02 RAW.  After season 6 for BtVS, except Willow and Tara were just friends and Buffy did indeed die, ergo slightly A/U.  Season 6 took place in 2000 instead of 2002.  I don't always get a chance to keep up with BtVS/Angel so I will be taking liberties as necessary to fit the story.

Summary:  Someone can't catch a break…..

Notes:    I promise WWE will make a small appearance in this chapter.

Chapter 3         

Eighteen months earlier (January 2001)

She was tired…tired of the vamps, tired of the demons, tired of the Hellmouth.  Buffy was gone, Xander and Anya had their own problems, Spike was morose, and Dawn was only now beginning to break down the wall she had erected around herself.  Things were not the same anymore.  It all had gone to hell, er, more to hell.  Never in a million years did she believe she was capable of killing a man, but she had.  Warren deserved to die—he murdered Tara—but she had been out of control.  Willow had allowed the magic to consume her and the result was not pretty.  Only recently did she regain her equilibrium, and she vowed never to use her powers again.  For her own sanity, she had to leave Sunnydale.

Six months later (July 2001)

Willow found herself in Washington, DC.  For the past six months she had wandered around the country, supporting herself with whatever jobs she could find, but it was getting old.  She needed to do something other than tending bar or waiting on tables.  There was only one problem:  she didn't have a college degree.  Between saving the world and taking care of her friends, school had fallen by the wayside.  It hadn't seemed necessary at the time.  Now it was different.  No matter how smart she was, that damn piece of sheepskin made the difference between welfare and the American dream, whatever that was. 

So she took matters into her own hands.  Using her considerable talent with computers, Willow created a new life for herself.  Oh, she struggled with the decision (but hey, it wasn't the first time she had broken the law); nevertheless it was better for everyone if Willow Rosenberg ceased to exist.  And Sophie McConnell was born, with all the requisite paperwork from a birth certificate to transcripts to a diploma that declared her the proud owner of a bachelor's degree in public relations and marketing.  Why not?  She constantly had to spin the strange goings-on in the Hellmouth, so anything else should be a piece of cake.

********************

"Ms. McConnell, we're pleased to offer you the position of Assistant Director of Public Relations.  You'll find that the offer letter details the contents of your compensation package.  If you need, take a few days to think about it, but please let us know by the end of the week."

Sophie's eyes widened and she barely held back a shout of delight.

"It worked!" she thought gleefully.  Composing herself, she looked at the HR director.

"There's no need to think about it.  I accept the position."

"Wonderful!  Can you begin tomorrow?  It's the first of the month and a perfect time to start," questioned the director.

She couldn't believe her fortune.  In addition to shedding her previous identity, it appeared she also shed *her* bad luck.  She refused to even think her old name, as if that would make all of the terrible things disappear.

"Of course," Sophie stated, rising from her chair and extending her hand.  "I'm looking forward to the challenge.  DC seems to be the city to be in these days for PR."

The HR director stood as well and the two shook hands, cementing the deal.  Sophie was now the Assistant Director of Public Relations for a small company that specialized in creating politically oriented websites.

It was the closest thing to normal she had ever known.  Though she couldn't stop the nightmares that stalked her in her sleep.

Six months ago (January 2002)

She looked around wildly, hoping he hadn't seen her.  Memories that only surfaced in the wee hours of the night suddenly assailed her.  The old pain she buried in the pit of her soul bubbled to the surface.  This was not happening, it couldn't be.  No one knew where she was.  Sophie shut her eyes, and then reopened them.  He was still there.  Quickly, she turned down a side street, keeping him in her sight all the while.

"What in goddess's name is Angel doing in DC?" she fretted to herself in a panic, not even realizing she had reverted to using one of her favorite Wiccan phrases.  "I've got to get out of here."

He was sitting at the window bar of a café in the Adams Morgan neighborhood, nursing a cup of coffee he couldn't drink.  It looked like he was waiting for someone, but she wasn't going to stick around to find out who.  She could only hope she was far enough away that his heightened senses wouldn't detect her.  Now to figure out how to slip away.  Why on earth had she decided to take a walk tonight, in the middle of winter?  Oh yeah, she had nothing better to do. 

"Think, girl.  You have a brain for a reason," she admonished herself.  "At least it's a Friday night.  I should be able to blend in with the crowd."

Seeing a large group of people headed her way, Sophie saw her chance to escape.  Pulling the hood of her coat over her very recognizable red hair, she disappeared into the mass of party-goers….

Ten minutes later she was back at her apartment.  She looked around one last time as she opened the front door.  Seeing no one in the hallway she went inside, shutting the door quietly.  As she leaned against it, the tears began to flow.  She knew what she had to do, but it didn't make it any easier. 

After what seemed like an eternity, she picked up the phone and called her boss.  It was too late to call his home, so she left him a voicemail at work.

"Robert, it's Sophie.  A family emergency has cropped up and I'm going to need to take a few days off work.  Everything I'm working on is on the left hand corner of my desk in file folders.  Lisa's up to speed on everything and she'll be able to cover until I get back.  I'm sorry for the short notice."

She hung up the phone, knowing that in a few days she would have to call back and resign.  They had been good to her; she at least owed them that.

"And I'm even sorrier for the lie."

She created a mental list of what needed to be done, but at least she didn't have to worry about telling her story to anyone else.  Sophie kept mostly to herself.  Ever since she left Sunnydale she refused to let herself get close to anyone, never wanting to experience the pain of losing a friend again.

Twelve hours later, she was on the road headed north.  Her few possessions were packed in the trunk, what she couldn't take was donated to charity, her bank account was closed, and the landlord had her keys and security deposit.  Tears trickled down her face.  She had begun to think that DC could become home; that she could be happy.  Her luck hadn't changed after all.  She was never going to escape the past.

*************

The car broke down outside of Stamford, Connecticut.  A passing motorist stopped to offer assistance and called a tow truck for her, waiting until it showed up.  Two hours later, what little savings she had was gone.  The damn car needed a new transmission, and it would take three days to fix.  Wonderful.  Now she needed a place to stay.  A quick conversation with the mechanic took care of that.

"Your room number is 212.  The elevators are to your right.  Have a pleasant stay.  Oh and here's your complimentary local paper," said the desk clerk, handing her the room key.

"Thank you," responded Sophie, heading towards the elevators.  She just wanted to take a long bath and go to bed.

Walking into the room, she threw the paper and her key on the desk and left her suitcase by the closet.  She flopped back on the bed, her mind racing a mile a minute.  She now had to figure out what she was going to do for money, plus she still had to officially resign from her job.  Well, she couldn't do anything until Monday anyway, so she decided to take advantage of the downtime and decompress.

Monday finally rolled around and Sophie dreaded the conversation she was about to have.  She silently begged forgiveness for the whopper she was preparing to tell.  After three rings, Robert picked up the phone.

"Hi Robert, It's me, Sophie."

"How are you doing?  How's your family? Is everything OK?  Oh, and don't worry about work….between Lisa and myself, we've got things under control."

"I'm OK.  Listen, I wanted to tell you this in person, but I'm not going to be able to.  My father, well, he had a stroke.  I can't leave him like this…."

"Oh damn.  He's going to be fine, right?"

"No, Robert, I don't think so.  The doctor says he's going to need someone with him all the time once he finally recovers and is able to come home.  I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to resign."

"Soph, I'm so sorry.  But can't we convince you to take an indefinite leave of absence?  You're too valuable to lose."

"I don't think that's going to be possible.  I don't want to move him from familiar surroundings; it would be too upsetting for him.  Believe me, this is the last thing I wanted or expected to happen."

"Well you have to do what you have to do, but we are going to miss you.  Oh, and if you need a recommendation or a reference, you got it."

Tears welled up in her eyes.  That seemed to be happening a lot the past few days.

"Thank you so much.  You'll never know just how much I'm going to miss it.  I loved working there.  But so it's official, I'll send you a resignation letter via email."

"What about your personal things?"

"I'll put my forwarding address in the letter.  If you don't mind packing them up, I mean."

"Of course not Soph.  It's the least I can do."

"Well, I need to get going.  Thank you again for everything Robert."

"No problem.  Take care of yourself, you hear?"

"I will….bye."

"Bye."

Gracious, how she detested telling that lie.  Wiping at her face, Sophie's eyes fell on the newspaper lying on the desk.  Newspapers had employment classifieds….might as well begin the search now.  Stamford seemed as good a place as any to stop running, for the time being.

Fifteen minutes later, she was cross-eyed from reading the tiny print and ready to kill the sadist who decided that abbreviations were an acceptable form of writing.  To top it off, she found not a single position for which she was qualified.  Throwing the paper down, she went into the bathroom.  Filling a glass with water, she took two ibuprofen, hoping to get rid of her raging headache.  Walking back to the bed, her eyes fell on three stars at the top of a classified.  Why hadn't she noticed that before?

"Seeking motivated self-starter.  Must be willing to travel extensively. 

Immediate opening for PR Manager.  BA/BS needed.   Email resume to resumesATwwecorp.com or call 555-1234."

 For the first time in days, something resembling a smile crossed Sophie's face.  A spark of hope lit her green eyes.  She reached for the phone and dialed the number……

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Alright, I'm going to borrow an idea from a fellow author (thanks KarenU).  I need feedback, desperately!  Or else I'll have no motivation to continue this fic and it will stop here.  So pretty please, let me know what you think.