Note: Thanks for the reviews..it really encouraged me to load this right away after my vacation. Sorry to those of you who were hoping that it woudl be a Bangle story, but I love Spuffy- however, I will tell you that Angel is notbad inthe story and I hope that you'll continue to read it anyways. Keep the reviews coming :)

Chapter 1

TWO YEARS LATER

Buffy Summers sat in front of her vanity and brushed out her long blonde hair. She was enjoying her new life that the FBI had thought up for her. When she had first sat down on that plane two years ago and discovered that they made her a kindergarden teacher she was a bit angry. Afterall, she had a Masters degree in Fine arts and helped to run one of the most successful galleries in New York City. But, she found that teaching was satisfying in ways she never imagined. And besides that, it had introduced her to some pretty great people. The phone broke her out of her reflection.

"Hello?" Buffy answered cautiously. Ever since the trial and Glory's outburst, she had become rather cautious about a lot of things.

"Buffy? It's Willow." Buffy's closest friend and fellow teacher replied. "I was just calling to see if you needed a ride to work today." Willow lived around the block from Buffy and would call every morning to see if Buffy wanted a ride to work since Buffy couldn't really drive.

"Nah. That's ok Wills. I think that I'll walk today. Have you seen the weather out there? Gorgeous!" Buffy smiled as Willow huffed over the phone. Willow never could understand Buffy's love of walking.

"Ok. But don't try to guilt me into it missy! I'm taking my car and polluting the atmosphere. So there!" They both laughed and said good-bye. Glancing at the clock Buffy yelped in surprise and hurriedly pulled her hair back into a long braid and dashed to her closet.

"Crap crap crap crap" She repeated as she realized that maybe she shouldn't have hit her snooze alarm that last time after all. She quickly pulled on some clothes and ran out the front door, forgetting to lock it behind her in her haste. She didn't look back as she walked hurriedly to work and she never saw the man watching her leave from his place below an old tree. He smirked appreciatively at her figure and waited until she had turned the corner before approaching the house. He had to make sure that this was the right woman otherwise, he wouldn't get paid. And if there was one thing that he found really unacceptable it was killing without getting paid. It wasn't like he was a psycho, afterall.

Two months before…

"Mrs. O'Grady? We have an answer from a bounty hunter about the special case." Glory's personal assistant Ben told her. She looked up at him and scowled.

"You mean killing Elizabeth O'Shea?" She asked icily. Ben gulped and nodded. "Well, what did they say? I mean hello! I'm not getting any younger here!"

"H-he said that he could find her and kill her but he wants double the price you posted."

"Double!" Glory was outraged. Not that she couldn't afford it. It was the principle behind the matter. "Who does this clown think he is?"

"He's ex-MI6. Apparently he went rogue after a few years after seeing how the bad guys live compared to how he lived. He didn't want to be a spy though. Something about pride in his country. Whatever. But he does have quite the reputation. He killed Niki Wood. And that Chinese girl that their mob was after who was turning state's evidence." Ben talked as fast as he could almost not breathing as he expounded these facts to Glory.

"Hmmm. So he doesn't have a problem killing women. Good." She paced around her elaborate bedroom slowly. "Tell him I'll double his fee. In fact, I'll triple his fee if he makes it painful." Ben paled but went out to relay the message.

"Hello? Mr. Spike?" Glory slammed the door to the sitting room that adjoined her bedroom. She sat down and looked at herself thoughtfully in the gold mirror of her vanity. Two years since she had put out that contract and this was the first nibble she had gotten. She knew that it was because of Angel. He must have put out word that he didn't want the little tramp harmed. Well, now Angel was in jail, rotting in some cell and wouldn't even be eligible for parole for eight more years. Glory picked up her ivory handled brush and smiled at herself perkily. Well now the brat would die. Die screaming, just as she planned.

Spike looked around the living room and frowned. This was not how he pictured Elizabeth O'Shea living, even if she was in the witness protection program. The room was filled with artwork, which fit Spike's tastes exactly, and her bookshelves were filled with books on art and poetry. Books he liked to read. He frowned. This wasn't what he thought she'd be like. He did a quick scan of the downstairs and then went upstairs, pushing away the excited feeling of being in her room. This was work. Not a date.

Pushing open the first room in the hallway Spike frowned again. She had surprised him again. This room seemed to be some sort of artist's studio. He studied her work that lay in various stages of completion. She was good. He smiled as he saw a picture of a young girl chasing seagulls along a beach at sunset. His smile turned to a frown. She couldn't be Elizabeth O'Shea. This was far too good. He walked out of the studio and slammed the door behind him breathing heavily.

Collecting himself once more, Spike opened another door. Storage. He calmed a little and made a note to come back to that room to search for anything that might hint at her past when he had more time. He opened the last door and smiled. The master bedroom. He smirked as he entered her private domain. Inwardly he appreciated her taste. The four poster mahagony bed took up most of the room, but in his opinion it was worth it. Apparently in Buffy Summers' opinion as well. He mentally slapped himself and went to work sorting through photos and searching for anything that might be a diary. He frowned when his search turned up empty.

Slowly Spike walked back to the storage room. He glanced down at his watch on his way and kicked himself. It was almost noon and he knew from his shadowing her that she came home from her job at noon to eat lunch with some friends. He growled and made his way down the stairs as quickly as possible. He had just reached the landing when he heard a key being inserted in the lock. He froze and stealthily made his way back up the stairs.

"Bugger." He muttered to himself as he hid just inside the studio door. Well, maybe he would be able to overhear something interesting. He thought to himself. Another part, the part that he called his inner demon, raged at him, telling him he was already to close to this mark. When he corrected himself to call her Buffy he sighed inwardly. He was too close. His inner turmoil ceased when he heard her voice for the first time.

"Hey Xander and Willow! Hurry up! We only have about 25 minutes left." She called out to her friends as she pushed the door open. Buffy frowned when she realized that she had left without locking her front door. "Good thing we come home for lunch." She muttered to herself before putting her bag down on a squishy chair and heading towards the kitchen.

"No, no, Xand. It was the yellow crayon, not the blue one." Willow said and smiled as Xander rolled his eyes at her.

"Willow. It really doesn't matter. I mean it happened when we were five!" Buffy laughed at them as she took out the casserole that she had placed in the fridge and put it in the microwave.

"Are you guys still talking about that crayon thing?" Buffy asked them as she waited for lunch to heat up.

"Yeah. I know it's not important but when you were telling us about Billy breaking the crayons on the way here I couldn't help but think of it." Spike rolled his eyes at their inane chatter from his hiding place.

"Ah the joys of lifelong friends." Buffy had meant for it to come out as a joke, but her tone was wistful.

"Yeah." Willow and Xander smiled at each other. "But what about you Buff?" Xander asked innocently. "I mean, we talk all the time about our funny and sometimes horrible stories growing up here in Sunnydale, but you've never mentioned anything in all the years we've known you." Spike's ears perked up. Could this be the break he was looking for to determine whether she was actually Elizabeth O'Shea. For some reason he broke out in a cold sweat. Did he want her to be Elizabeth afterall?

"Well you know. Not much to tell." Buffy said and was saved momentarily by the beeping of the microwave.

"C'mon Buffster!" Xander pushed.

"No. Xander, drop it." Buffy said sharply and Xander stopped in surprise. He hadn't meant to push. Willow looked between the two nervously.

"Xander didn't mean anything Buffy. I mean, we're just curious." Willow's babbling was interrupted when Buffy sighed.

"It's ok guys. It's just…" She bit her lip nervously and Spike held his breath as he waited for her reply. This could be what he was waiting for. "It's just, well, my sister died a few years ago and I don't really have any other family and so I just…well. I moved away and that's that." Buffy said firmly and placed some plates of food on the table, going back to the kitchen for the last one. When she returned she looked a little sad making Xander feel worse for his friendly inquiry.

"Listen, Buffy, I'm really sorry…"

"No. It's ok Xand. It's a normal thing to ask your friend who you've known for two years." They all chuckled and the tension passed for the group of three friends. But for the man on the stairs, his stomach was tied up in knots. It could be her. It is her! His inner demon yelled at him and thirsted for him to finish the job. He pushed the feeling aside more quickly. When Buffy laughed at something Xander said, Spike felt his heart lurch.

No, it might not be her. He had to know for sure. He decided that he would get to know her. In person. Then he would find out the truth and only after that would he kill her. His inner demon protested that plan but the voice that often time raged at him and pushed him to do some of the horrible things he had done was quieter than usual in her house. And for once, Spike turned off that part of his psyche and let himself relax. It felt good.