All-human high school 1990s AU. Some events may not be 100% realistic or be somewhat corny/rom com-y at times.

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, nor make any money from this.

Angel runs a ragged hand over his face, blinking hard as he tries to concentrate on the papers before him. He tilts the head of his desk lamp further down, resting his head on his palm as he tries to read through the heating bills. He'll need to go through their bank statements again, try to move some money around — he may need to pick up more shifts for this month.

He rubs the back of his neck, wiping away a sheen of damp sweat and continues rifling through the bills. It's near the end of September, when the temperature usually dips back down but it's one of those rare lingering summer nights where it's humid and hot. His window is open, helping with air circulation but the AC is off, as they can't afford to turn it on, so Angel removes his shirt and tries to focus.

There's a noise down the hall — he stills for a moment, wondering if Kathy woke up or his mom is finally home. He gets up, opening the door to check the hallway but it's dark, Kathy's door firmly shut and no sign of any disturbance. He peeks into Kathy's bedroom, finding her asleep on her stomach and drooling a little, her covers scrounged up at the foot of her bed. He checks the living room, only a small lamp left on and he looks out the window, the street deserted and dimly lit. No sign of anyone, not even his mom, but he'd be stunned if she came home at this hour.

Angel goes to the washroom and turns on the sink tap, splashing cool water on his face. It gives him a much-needed boost for a minute and he retreats back to his cramped bedroom. He stops, baffled at the sight of a strange girl sprawled on his window ledge.

She tumbles onto the floor, legs flailing awkwardly. She grunts, a small heap on the ground and slowly gets up, wobbling violently on her feet.

"Um. Hi?"

She giggles, taking a few steps forward. "Hello. You. You are…do I know you?"

"Uh, no?"

Well, she looks a little familiar. It's possible their paths have crossed before, maybe they go to the same school.

"Hey! Don't lie! I think you do know me!" she waves her arms exaggeratedly in offense, her bottom lip sticking out in a defensive pout. It's kind of endearing. "You're being awfully suspicious…I think you might be drunk! Are you drunk?!"

"Me?"

"Duh!"

"No…no, I'm not. How did you even get in here?"

"Your window was open!" she retorts haughtily, in a tone that implies just how stupid she thinks that question is. Even though Angel's room faces the backyard, which is enclosed by admittedly rundown, but tall and narrow wooden fences.

"Right. Uh, well, what's your address? I'll help you get home."

She prattles on, clearly not having heard him. "Sometimes, I feel like math is so mathy, does it ever feel like it to you? Like all those numbers…so number-like. I mean, one is like…woah! Then, two is just, yikes! What?! Literally so crazy, am I right?!"

"Um, excuse me, miss…?" he steps closer, raising his voice slightly, "Hey, where do you live? What's your address?"

"I really need to sleep," she moans dramatically. Angel thinks she might be outright ignoring him. "Sleep. That's a funny word, right? Sleep. Sleep? Sleep. Sleep! Sleep. It tastes really weird in my mouth."

"I can help you get some sleep. Just tell me your address, and I'll get you home."

"Oh, no. No. I'm not telling you anything! My address is NONE of your beeswax, and Corny already dragged me to that obnoxiously smelly party! I am not going anywhere!" she exclaims heatedly, crossing her arms and gives him a fierce glare, her eyes narrowed as if expecting nothing short of compliance.

"I just want to help you get home-"

"I'm! Not! Moving!" she declares stubbornly, when a silly grin overtakes her face and she runs unexpectedly, jumping onto his bed and starts wriggling under the covers happily.

Angel stands there for a moment, unsure of what to do. He has no clue who this girl is, much less what her name is. He's definitely seen her before, probably at school but who would he call? She's clearly drunk off her ass and stubbornly tight-lipped, so she might just have to stay here until she sobers up. What's the worst that can happen? He'll make sure she gets home, and even if his mom finds this girl, what would she do? Ground him? Exhibit any sort of parental discipline? Highly doubtful, and Kathy will keep quiet if he asks her. He resolves to help her in the morning, and leaves to get a bottle of water, Advil and a bucket in case she throws up.

When he retreats back to his bedroom, the girl is still in bed but stirs a little as he sets down the items on his nightstand. She sits up, grumbling incoherently and fumbles at the covers. "So uncomfortable…hate this dress…yucky, icky thing…"

"What…?" The rest of his words die in his throat as she takes off her dress forcefully, throwing it across the room. Angel immediately whips around in shock, rooted to spot as he listens to her shift under the sheets, sighing quietly as she settles. He goes to his closet, shuffling through his clothes and picks out the cleanest shirt he can find. He approaches the bed cautiously, and she peeks open an eye, looking extremely wary.

"Here," he holds out the shirt, and she sits up to take it, blankets slipping off and he glimpses her bare shoulders before looking away sharply. She slips on the shirt, looking tiny buried underneath his covers.

She lies back down and shuts her eyes, burrowing deeply into his mattress. Angel grabs a pillow that fell off his bed, positioning it right next to his nightstand and lies on the floor, trying to get comfortable with the scratchy rug digging into his skin. He shuts his eyes, listening to the dulcet breathing of the girl beside him and lets it help him drift off to sleep.

When Buffy wakes up, she has no idea where she is.

She's staring at a beige ceiling she doesn't recognize, the mattress is lumpy and hard, meaning it's definitely not her bed or even Cordelia's. There's a couple blankets wrapped around her, each one worn and thin, and she's wearing a large black shirt. She lifts it to her nose, giving it a hesitant sniff and it smells of boy, spicy cologne and laundry detergent mixed together.

God, did she end up sleeping with some college frat boy asshole? It sounds like a hellish way to start off the morning, maybe she should sneak out now before the guy wakes up.

She sits up slowly, careful not to make too much noise and takes in her surroundings, rubbing at her forehead where a headache is slowly blooming at the bridge of her nose. This is clearly the bedroom of a teenage boy, it's small, shabby furniture cramped together that looks like it came from the 70s. Still, it's surprisingly clean, everything has a place except for a few strewn papers on a desk, white shirt on a rickety chair but Buffy has never seen a boy with such a polished bedroom.

There's a creak beside her, and she shifts towards the noise, peeking over the side of the bed to see a teenage boy sleeping soundly on his side. Oh. Oh, he's very attractive, and very much shirtless. He doesn't look much older than her, pale skin with nice pink lips, finely carved cheekbones and jaw, messy chocolate-brown hair and a very attractive toned chest heaving ever so softly.

So. If she did sleep with this guy, surely he'd be in bed with her and a lot more naked. But then how did she get here? She tugs at her shirt, pausing jerkily when she realizes she went to the party last night in a black satin dress. Bad, bad sign, Buffy.

Okay, okay, focus. Underwear? Check. Spandex shorts? Check. Strapless bra? Check (it's so uncomfortable). Heels? She slides a hand underneath the covers, pulling out black pumps and smiles gratefully, because they were really expensive. All she's missing is her dress, her sixty-dollar super fancy dress that she definitely is not leaving here without…

Just as Buffy sets her feet down on the cool floor, there's a creak from the other side of the bed, followed by a loud sigh and a few low groans. She freezes, her spine ramrod and her mind is desperately concocting ideas of what to do. Run out of the room? Jump out the window? Hide in the closet? None of those sound particularly appealing.

She listens to the sound of floorboards shifting and groaning, the guy must be getting to his feet and she can't seem to move, firmly planted on the edge of his bed.

"Hi," a deep voice says tentatively, and Buffy swallows, turning around to look at the guy. He's even more attractive awake, with soulful dark-brown eyes, and he puts on the shirt from the chair before picking something off the floor. "This is yours."

"Thank you," she says quietly as he walks over and hands her the dress. She tries not to stare too much at the rippling muscles on his arms or his deliciously scrumptious face; she's definitely seen him before last night. "Um…my brain's a bit scrambled, are you one of the guys from the party?"

"Uh, no, sorry, I don't know anything about a party. You climbed through my window, and I couldn't get an address. You were drunk and tired, you told me you wouldn't leave, so I figured you could sleep off the alcohol here."

"Oh, I got dragged to a college party by a friend. I had a couple drinks, started feeling sick and the party wasn't helping, and I guess I got here somehow."

"Right. Did you want me to call you a cab, or a friend to come pick you up?"

Who on earth should she call? She doesn't have any money for a cab, and if her mom's up, Buffy will definitely meet an early grave if she gets caught. Cordelia - oh god, she probably thinks Buffy ditched her last night, she'll be undoubtedly fuming. Xander? Forget it. Willow? There's an option, maybe Oz could come with his van and they'd help her out.

"Sure, I think I know someone. Could I use your phone?"

He scratches the back of his head nervously. "I have a landline, but it's in the kitchen and not portable. Give me a second to see if anyone's awake, just stay here."

He leaves the room, shutting the door quietly and Buffy's alone. In a boy's room. Cordelia would be ecstatic and immediately demand she snoop, which Buffy can't exactly resist. She moves toward the desk, recognizing some of the papers as bills, schoolwork and some sketches. She gingerly grabs one of the drawings, pulling it to take a proper look and it's a sketch of a classroom. The scribbles are a little rushed and lazy, clearly done out of boredom but it's so detailed, it's really good. Possibly good enough to be in her mom's gallery, with precise lines and carefully shaded shadows and intricate faces. The door clicks open, and Buffy immediately drops the paper, taking a big step back and tries not to look guilty.

The guy's back, but he doesn't seem to notice her expression or the fact that she was snooping. "Come on."

Buffy follows him out of the bedroom, down a narrow hallway and he enters the doorway on the right, stepping into a severely outdated kitchen. It's pretty messy, papers piled on one counter and different items scattered on the counters, the dish-rack is overflowing and the cabinets are dingy, like they've aged severely. The landline is hooked up to the wall next to a cabinet, and he grabs the phone, passing it to her. She takes it, hastily dialling Willow's number and waits patiently as it rings, praying it won't go to her answering machine.

"Hello?"

"Will? It's me, Buffy."

"Oh! Hey, what's up? How was last night? Did you meet anyone?"

"Um…kind of. Do you think you could come pick me up? I swear, I'll explain later but you're my only hope unless you're prepared to attend my funeral later, courtesy of my mother."

"Okay, okay, sure! Where are you?"

"Um…" Buffy briefly puts her hand over the mouthpiece, turning to the guy. "What's the address?"

"243 Hyperion Boulevard. Nearest major intersection is Carlton and Highway 9."

Buffy repeats the information back to Willow when a small high-pitched voice interrupts. "Deartháir?"

They both turn simultaneously at the noise, a little girl of about five or six years old standing in the doorway, wearing pink unicorn pyjamas with rumpled brown hair and hazel eyes still tinted with sleep. She looks at Buffy, her mouth dropping to form a perfect O which grows wider, clearly about to speak.

"Kathleen Jules, you come with me and don't speak another word," he rushes forward, grabbing the little girl and sweeps her away.

"Who is…" her tiny voice echoes, drifting away.

"Buffy? Buffy, I'm coming to get you," Willow replies, "I was gonna meet Oz anyway, so we'll come pick you up."

"Okay, um, how long do you think that's gonna take?"

"He's coming in ten minutes to get me, then it'll probably take another fifteen to reach you…? Will you be okay? Maybe we could meet you at a diner or something."

"No. No, I'll be fine. Um, don't honk or get out of the car when you get here. Thank you so much, Will, I owe you a bunch."

"It's fine! Call me again or leave me a message if something changes. Or beep me!"

"Got it. See you soon, Will, you're the greatest."

Willow chuckles. "See ya!"

The boy comes back again, no little girl at his side and he looks a little mortified. "Sorry, that was my little sister. She won't say anything."

"It's fine," Buffy reassures him gently. "My friend won't be here for a little while, I hope that's okay."

"Yeah, sure. You can just hang out in my room, and I could make you breakfast…?"

"I'm good. Not all that hungry. Also, um, I didn't catch your name. I'm Buffy, and you are?"

"Angel."

"So, who was that, deartháir ?" Kathy asks from the kitchen table, swirling her spoon around her bowl of Cheerios. "Was she your girlfriend?"

Buffy left ten minutes ago, practically ran towards a green van where a redheaded-girl watched with concern, along with a boy of a similar hair colour. She just sat in his room, waiting patiently, the awkward silence so thick a chainsaw couldn't have made a dent and they'd exchanged no more than ten words. She probably won't say another word to him after today, frankly he wouldn't blame her if he's now known as a weirdo who watched her sleep.

"Don't play with your cereal," Angel replies absentmindedly as he runs a spatula across a pan of scrambled eggs, "and it was nothing like that. She just needed a place to stay and I was helping her get home. But you remember what I said, right?"

"Don't tell Mama," Kathy recites dutifully, taking a bite of her cereal, "because she'll get weird about it."

"That's right."

"Is that girl coming over again?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I was just helping her, we didn't really know each other."

"What's her name?"

"Deirfiúr."

"Please, I wanna know! Come on, tell me, please, please, please, please, please-"

"It's Buffy. Her name is Buffy."

Kathy smiles triumphantly. "That's a nice name. She was pretty. Do you think she's pretty?"

"I think I'm gonna go check on Mama. You sit here, eat your cereal and don't watch TV until you finish your breakfast, okay? I want your bowl to be polished clean," he scrapes the eggs onto a plate and fills up a glass of water, walking carefully to his mother's bedroom.

He slowly opens the door, the room dark with barely any sunlight filtering in and he can just about make out a lump in bed, buried under the covers. Angel carefully sets down the plate and glass on the nightstand next to bed, sitting slowly on the mattress and places a tentative hand on his mother's shoulder.

"Mom? Mama, how do you feel?" he whispers, careful not to shake her and she groans, mumbling something under her breath.

"Hm? Where…hmm…"

"Mama, it's me, Angel. It's morning, I brought you breakfast. You should eat, okay?"

His mother, Moira, finally stirs and turns her face toward him, her face lined with sleep and a nasty hangover. "Liam…"

He swallows down his distaste for his first name and pastes on an encouraging smile. "That's right, Mama, it's me, I made you breakfast. I got you water, eggs, I can make you anything else you need…"

She sits up in bed, still not quite awake but gives him a warm smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, a stór. What would I do without you?"

"We'll never have to find out. Do you want me to bring you anything else?"

"I want my snow. Bring it for me?"

He hesitates, jaw clenched. "Mom…"

"I need it. You know I do," her tone is sharp yet pleading, her gaze beseeching him to understand and she grabs onto his hands tightly. "I need it, just a little bit to get me through this morning, please. You know how upset I get without it, please, let me have some."

"Okay," Angel relents and goes to her dresser, digging through the bottom drawer. He finds the ratty makeup bag, unzipping it and takes out the tiny pouch of cocaine, handing it over reluctantly.

"Thank you, my darling. I love you."

He walks over to the doorway and smiles thinly. "I love you, too."

Angel shuts the door, an awful tightness building in his chest and his head is hit with a sudden stab of pain. He ignores it steadily, walking back to the kitchen where Kathy is gone, her bowl now spotless and by the sink, the TV faintly playing nearby. He exhales shakily, moving the dishes to the sink to clean them and starts mentally assembling a list of what he needs to do for the day.

"Is that him?"

"No."

"Oh! What about that guy?"

"Definitely not."

"What kind of a name is Angel, anyway?" Xander chimes in, "What kind of parent has a kid, takes one look and says 'hey, you know what would be a great name? Angel!' Kind of obnoxious, right?"

"Suited him just fine if you ask me," Buffy mumbles under her breath, and Willow shoots her a mischievous grin.

"I mean, Angel," Xander continues on, oblivious to her remark, "I swear, I'd remember a guy by that name if he went here. It's not like we have a whole lot of people."

"Maybe it's a nickname!" Willow suggests enthusiastically, "Plenty of people go by different names."

Buffy's about to respond when she notices Cordelia standing across the courtyard, hands on her hips as she strides towards them, fury coming off her in waves. "Oh, no."

Willow and Xander follow her gaze. "Yeesh, she doesn't look happy."

"I haven't talked to her since the party! I had work in the afternoon, and honestly, I was kinda dodging her calls. I'm pretty sure she thinks I ditched her and left."

"Well, just explain the situation!" Willow offers urgently, "I'm sure she'll understand."

"Cordelia?" Xander remarks disbelievingly just as Cordelia reaches them, and he fakes a smile, reworking his tone to sound more friendly. "Hey, Cordelia!"

"Save it!" she snaps waspishly, turning her indignant gaze to Buffy, "Where did you go at the party?! And yes, I did notice you disappeared, the whole party did and I looked like a total IDIOT in front of all those college boys! You totally ditched me, didn't you?! I ask you to help me out, be a good friend but no, you can't do me a single favour-"

"I got sick and I had to leave, I didn't feel good-"

"Oh, right, yeah! How stupid do you think I am? If you were sick, why didn't you come find me?! But no, you had to run off and make me think you could be dead in a ditch somewhere-"

"I was really drunk, I wasn't thinking straight-"

"Had me so worried, and for what? Because you couldn't handle your liquor? You know, I don't even think you're telling me the truth, you just don't wanna seem like a big fat lying jerk-"

"Buffy met a guy!" Willow suddenly blurts out, and Cordelia goes quiet, looking dumbfounded and Buffy gives her best friend a sharp look, wondering where she's going with this. "It's, um…it's very new so she didn't wanna say anything!"

"Is this true?" Cordelia crosses her arms, resembling a cobra waiting to strike.

"Uh…" Buffy glances at Willow, who shrugs and waves a hand, as if to say go along with it. "Yes! Yeah, I did. Sorry, I, um, just wasn't ready to start telling people."

"Really? What's his name?"

"Angel."

"Angel?"

"Yeah. I really was sick, and he helped me out, then, well, um, we started talking. Oh, that's why I couldn't call you back yesterday, me and Angel were hanging out, I lost track of time and forgot to check my messages."

"Hm. Is he a college student, too?"

"Oh, uh…" suddenly, as if right on cue, Buffy sees Angel, descending the courtyard staircase, looking extremely handsome in a beige long-sleeved shirt and black pants. "He goes here! And he's right there!"

She points at him, and in what is probably a desperate tactic to escape this conversation, her body is somehow running towards him before her brain has even registered the movement. She reaches the staircase just as he makes it off the last step, and instinctively launches herself into his arms, his face adorably confused; somehow, and in a stupidly impulsive decision, she presses her mouth against his. It's a hard kiss, her mouth firmly squashed against his, yet his lips are cool and soft.

Buffy steps back, meeting his stunned eyes and manages a stiff smile, her body extremely unsteady all of a sudden and her head is spinning.

"Hey. Can we talk?"

He nods jerkily, and they walk away together, just before Buffy catches a glimpse of the shocked expressions on her friends' faces.

Angel can't stop reeling from what just happened.

He was going to his locker to put away his books and go eat lunch when Buffy came bounding up to him, golden hair bouncing, dressed like a colourful candy wrapper, threw herself into his arms and kissed him. He can still taste her lip gloss on his mouth, recall the indent of her hands against his skin and now she's walking beside him, smelling of flowery perfume and cherries.

They enter the closest empty classroom and lean against opposite desks until Buffy breaks the silence, her voice tentative with a tinge of mortification. "Um. So, you're probably wondering what happened with…all that."

"It crossed my mind."

"I didn't exactly mean to…look, the friend I went to the party with was wondering why I left, and she was really mad at me, so I needed an excuse and told her that we're, um, dating."

Angel thinks he may look like an idiot right now. "Dating?"

"Yes. I know it's unbelievably stupid of me to say, and totally puts you in a weird position, but, um…see, I'm friends with Cordelia, and sometimes being her friend can be challenging. She's been getting me to go with her to all these college parties because some Alpha Thai dude said I was pretty - but the main point is I needed a believable cover story. Cordelia thought I ditched her and was uber pissed, so I told her we met, got to talking and we're kind of going out?"

"Er. Okay," to say Angel still doesn't fully comprehend the situation is an understatement, "so, your friends think we're dating?"

"That's the word now."

"Okay. Um, so, what now?"

"Well, uh," Buffy pauses, her face falling, "Oh, god. I won't be able to live this down. Cordelia's gonna hold this over my head for eternity."

"She…what?"

"Cordy's memory is unbelievable, she's a professional at holding a grudge," she starts pacing frantically, "and now we kissed, so she'll tell everyone, she'll probably tell her mom who will tell mine, and years from now, when I'm an old lady, she'll find me at my nursing home and bring up the kiss, throw it in my face even if I'm on bedrest and breathing from an oxygen tube-"

Angel feels a bit like a dolt watching Buffy ramble away, she's visibly upset and about to throw herself into a whirlpool of anxiety and stress. Clearly, she's dug herself into a hole, and Angel doesn't think she deserves that, so the next words to come out of his mouth feel alien. "Why don't we just pretend we're dating?"

Buffy does a weird half-step as she screeches to a halt and her face whips to meet his gaze, half-shocked and half-dumbfounded. "I'm sorry, I think you just said we should pretend to date."

"Yes, I did," this is a terrible idea, but he's put it out there already, "Look, it seems like you need to get this Cordelia off your back, so we just pretend we're a thing for the next few weeks? I'll walk you to class, we eat together a couple times, maybe go to the Bronze or something…it'll be simple."

"And what's in it for you? I mean, what are you getting out of this?" she asks suspiciously, crossing her arms rigidly as she surveys him with a penetrating gaze.

"Well…" there is the matter of Kathy and work. He always needs another babysitter for her. "I need someone to watch my sister, just a couple times a week. I wouldn't really be able to pay you, so…"

"You want me to babysit your sister?" Buffy reiterates amusedly, clearly surprised by his request. He knows this sounds incredibly lame, he's probably cementing himself as the winner for this year's biggest geek worldwide.

"She's really sweet and well-behaved. I just really need another babysitter, my contacts are limited and my parents aren't really around."

Buffy examines him silently for a moment, before shrugging in a demonstratively casual manner. "Okay, sure. Let's do this. We'll hold hands and walk together and be Sunnydale's new item. Piece of cake."

Buffy grimaces, looking at the deserted courtyard. "Shoot, I'm supposed to meet Willow in the library for a project."

"I'll walk you," Angel says, pausing thoughtfully, "I mean, that's what I'm supposed to do, right? I have lunch anyways."

"Right, yes, that's what…" she trails off, noticing his hand is held out in front of her, slim fingers stretched out. To hold her hand. Like a romantic, head-over-heels-in-love couple. Oh Jesus, her palms are beginning to sweat.

Buffy lifts her hand gradually, trying to keep from shaking and gingerly places her hand on top of his, his palm cool and smooth. His fingers shift to intertwine with hers, clutching the back of her hand and some sort of invisible force lifts her gaze to his. His eyes are impenetrable, but there is an emotion she recognizes, a visceral longing and hunger that makes her lips part and eyes widen until Angel looks away, and whatever spell is broken.

"The library," he notes, and it takes Buffy a moment to realize what he's talking about.

She nods stiffly, and they start to walk through the school hallways hastily. Classes have already started, leaving only a few students in the halls but they not-so-subtly glance and whisper among themselves. They wear wary and distrustful expressions, but Buffy realizes those looks are being shot at Angel, not her. Yet when she looks his way, he doesn't seem to notice or is pretending to be above it.

They make it to the library, and Buffy glances inside where Willow is sitting at the main table, deep in concentration as she goes through homework. "Looks like we made it."

"Cool. Well, I'll meet you at the end of the period."

"Okay. See you."

"Later."

She watches him leave, lean frame striding down the hallway assuredly before she goes into the library, almost skipping to greet Willow. "Hey!"

"Buffy! Hi! So, um…where did you go after kissing Liam?"

Buffy frowns quizzically, taking a seat. "Who?"

"Angel - sorry, I didn't know he was going by that nickname. His real name is Liam Maher, he's kind of a senior. I mean, he is a senior but he's actually a year older. He moved here a couple years before you did," Willow shifts uncomfortably, adopting a more cautious tone, "He, um…he doesn't have the best reputation."

"What do you mean? What did he do?"

"Nothing bad! Well, nothing that terrible. He skips school a lot. Sometimes gets into fights. He lives in the bad part of town, and his mom is kind of known for…getting around and having a drug problem. And apparently his dad is in prison for a bunch of stuff. You should be careful. Just in case."

"Oh," that explains the looks in the hall, but Angel, or Liam, whatever his name is? He hasn't acted like anything Willow is describing. "How come, I mean…I didn't even realize he was a thing."

Willow shrugs. "No one really talks about it, and our paths don't intersect. And who's gonna go around badmouthing a guy who might punch you for it? Not exactly a smart move."

"Yeah, that's a good point."

"So, did you guys talk?"

"We did, and," Buffy leans in, lowering her voice, "we've decided to pretend to date."

"WHAT?!" Willow yelps, earning her shushing noises and reproachful looks, to which she looks sheepish and adjusts her volume. "You…you're fake-dating him?"

"Just to get Cordy off my back for a little bit, especially since I kissed him and everything. And I…I'm helping him out by babysitting his little sister. It's a mutually beneficial partnership."

"Buffy…"

"Hey, you partially got me into this mess. Seemed like the most reasonable solution where my butt wouldn't get kicked."

Willow's mouth open and closes a couple times in bewilderment. "I guess you have a point. Just be careful, okay? Did you guys make…like, ground rules or something?"

"Ground rules? Oh…"

Willow shakes her head good-naturedly. "Maybe we should outline that kind of stuff." She rips a sheet out of her notebook, writing down 'rules.' "Better not make it too obvious, in case someone else finds the paper, which brings us to the first rule. No one is allowed to know it's fake, me and Xander excluded, since you kinda told us the truth already."

"Right," Buffy nods, "oh, and I babysit his sister sometimes. He didn't say when, but might as well mark it."

"Got it. What about PDA? Obviously, making sure you're on the same page is pretty important."

"Holding hands is probably fine. Hugs are good too. Maybe…maybe kisses on the cheek? But like you said, I should check that over with Ang - um, Liam. Also, we talked about having lunch together, or going to the Bronze. Maybe once a week, like Saturday night? It's when everyone goes."

Willow finishes writing, inspecting her handiwork and passes the paper over for Buffy to inspect the page. Each ground rule is neatly written out, enough space for any sort of changes. "Perfect! All that's left is to sign and notarize it to seal the deal. Now, you have a shiny new boyfriend."

"Hey," it's finally the end of school, and Angel runs into Buffy in the English hall, the first chance they've gotten at having a real conversation. "I have a little bit of time before I have to go pick up Kathy from school."

"Okay," Buffy takes something out of her back pocket, it's a folded-up piece of lined paper and hands it to him. "Me and a friend - don't worry, vow of silence in effect - we thought it might be good to set up ground rules. I wanted to make sure you're cool with it."

He opens up the paper, reading over the notes. "That looks good. The babysitting days would be Wednesday and Thursday, but I can cut that down if you want-"

"No, no, those days are fine. So, everything's good? Nothing to change, you're alright with the stuff about PDA?"

"Yeah, it's fine - you're okay with it too, right? I don't want to push you into anything-"

"No, I'm fine with it! I just wanted to make sure we're both in agreement, and we are, so, mission accomplished," Buffy spots something from behind him, her face becoming mask-like and her hand whips out to grab his tightly, immediately wedging herself to his side. "Cordy, hey!"

"Hi, you two," Cordelia Chase is standing in front of him, a big grin on her face but her eyes are shrewd, scanning them closely and she's dressed impeccably in a yellow dress and headband. "I'm Cordelia. I don't think we've been introduced yet."

"Hi," Angel nods, "Buffy told me a little bit about you. I'm Angel."

"Oh! That's an interesting choice for a name - it's nice to meet you. So, how did you two meet? Tell me everything."

Angel sees Buffy's mouth open, but no words come out, clearly at a loss so he speaks up. "Saturday night. I was in the neighbourhood, and she seemed a little under the weather, so I decided to sit with her to make sure she was okay. We got to talking, and I just…had a good time, so we met up yesterday. Things moved pretty quickly from there."

"That is so cute!" Cordelia trills, giving Buffy a look. It doesn't reek of anger or venom, so he probably did something right there. "We should totally double-date sometime, like at the Bronze or something, that'd be super fun, right, Buffy?"

"Absolutely," she replies with a bright smile that borders on artificiality, "we'll definitely make plans."

"Great! Well, I have to go meet Kevin but I'll call you later, Buffy. Take good care of her, Angel, she needs it. Bye!"

"Bye!" they watch her leave, Buffy releasing a deep sigh of relief, "That wasn't so bad, right? Just a few weeks, and the whole thing will blow over just like that."

"Just like that," Angel echoes.

Buffy opens the front door, immediately pasting on a big smile that she hopes comes across as friendly and not deranged. "Hi! Come in."

Angel steps inside with his little sister, who's holding onto his hand and looks up at Buffy curiously. "Kathy, this is my very special friend, Buffy. Buffy, this is my little sister."

"Hello!" Kathy chirps, rocking back-and-forth on her feet, brown braids swinging a little and she looks exceptionally small next to Angel.

"Hi, it's very nice to meet you," Buffy bends down to Kathy's eye-level, "Your brother told me all about you. I'm happy we get to hang out."

"Me too! Angel said we get to have fun and do lots of stuff together!"

"I'll be back around nine," Angel interjects, "Just call the Village Grocer if there's a problem and ask for me," Buffy nods and Angel turns to his sister, bending down, "You're going to be a good girl for Buffy, right? You aren't going to cause trouble? Is feighlí maith é Buffy agus tabharfaidh sí aire duit. Is féidir leat muinín a chur inti. Okay?"

"Okay," Kathy nods, and Angel hugs her, his giant torso almost swallowing her whole but Buffy's heart softens at the scene before her.

"I'll be back later to take you home. Be good," he stands back up, facing Buffy, "Thank you for doing this."

"Of course. Is there anything she needs to do? Stuff I should know?"

"Making sure she finishes her homework is the main thing. Everything else is just the basics: give her dinner, keep her out of trouble. She doesn't have any allergies or food restrictions, nothing else to know about."

"Okay."

"Okay," Angel repeats, stepping back and he looks a little worried but manages a small smile. "I'll be back soon. Bye."

They wave, and he leaves, glancing back a couple times before Buffy shuts the door and she's left with little Kathy, who's staring expectantly. "Why don't we get started on that homework? We can go to the dining room."

"Okay," Kathy follows her to the table, and Buffy helps her sit, unpacking her stuff, "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Nope, just me," Buffy responds cheerily, "I used to really want a sister when I was younger, just to have someone to play with. Do you like having a brother, is Angel nice to you?"

"Yup!" she pops the p proudly, "He's the bestest brother ever. He makes food for me, plays doctor with me, braids my hair and we have dance parties together."

"Dance parties? That sounds super fun. Maybe later after your homework is done, you and I could have one. How does that sound?"

Kathy perks up, wriggling in her chair excitedly. "Yay! Yay! That sounds super fun!"

Buffy laughs. "I'm glad you're so excited. Why don't I get you a snack and then we'll go over your homework together."

Angel trudges down the sidewalk, his feet aching and his stomach is growling for some kind of sustenance. He glances across both sides of the road before crossing the street, reaching Buffy's house. There's no car parked in the driveway, possibly no parent is home yet but the lights are on inside, and he thinks he can hear music playing.

As he gets closer, he's definitely sure there's a Spice Girls song playing and he rings the doorbell. The door opens a few seconds later, Buffy and Kathy standing there, the latter dancing excitedly and both are a little sweaty, their faces flushed.

"Deartháir!" Kathy cries happily, smashing into him with a quick hug and grabs his hand, tugging him towards the living room where "Spice Up Your Life" is playing on a bulky stereo.

Kathy hops around energetically, Angel holding her hand to twirl her around and she giggles rambunctiously as Buffy flops down on the couch, watching them with a wide grin. Kathy notices, going over and gets Buffy off the couch, holding onto her hand as they dance and then Kathy grabs his hand, the three of them dancing together. It's a little awkward and clumsy, Angel isn't the best dancer and six-year-olds don't have much coordination, but they're all grinning and Buffy's eyes are sparkling, a sight that makes Angel lose his breath for a split second.

The song ends and Buffy turns off the stereo while Kathy carefully looks through her DVD collection. "How was work?"

"Fine, good," he replies, "Not too busy."

Working as a cashier at the Village Grocer is a good job, more than he deserves. Jenny helped set up the interview, and the owner, Whistler, took a liking to him and is willing to be more flexible with Angel's schedule. Sometimes Kathy can even hang around the store if Angel can't find a sitter, letting her sit at a nearby bench within his view.

He glances at Kathy, who's engrossed in a Toni Braxton DVD and lowers his voice. "How was Kathy?"

"Oh, she was great. Super sweet, we did all her homework together, I made her pasta for dinner, we danced and coloured a bit," Buffy explains with an easy smile, her cheeks still pink and her ponytail swings from side to side, "It was a fun night."

"Your parents don't mind that you're babysitting Kathy, do they?"

"I haven't exactly told them yet. My dad lives in LA, so no point in telling him, and my mom's in San Diego for a work conference. But I'm sure she'll be totally on board with the idea, say a bunch of stuff about how it builds character, teaches responsibility, yadda yadda, even though I already have a job."

"Oh. Where do you work?"

"You know that bookstore, near Mercer, called Watcher's Bookshop? I'm a clerk there."

"Really? My aunt's husband owns that place."

Buffy brightens. "You mean Giles? Your aunt is Miss Calendar?"

"Yeah - not by blood, but she's the only relative we have here. They've been good to me, that place is great," he pauses, "I wish I could pay you for the help, but I really wouldn't have much to give anyway-"

Buffy waves a hand reassuringly. "Angel, it's fine. This is part of the agreement, right? We both said it was cool."

"Good. Yeah, good, just wanted to check. Me and Kathy should get out of your hair, there's still school tomorrow and we have to walk home," Angel says, going to pack Kathy's stuff in the dining room and put her school supplies into her backpack, Buffy watching silently.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow morning, in front of school?" she asks once he zips up Kathy's backpack.

"I'll be there," he promises, then goes over to Kathy, "Time to go home. Say thank you to Buffy and tell her goodbye. You'll see her again tomorrow."

Kathy jumps up, running over to Buffy and slams into her with an enthusiastic hug. "See you tomorrow, Buffy! Thank you for the dance party!"

Buffy chuckles, returning the hug with equal vigour and pats her head. "I had a lot of fun with you, Kathy, I bet tomorrow will be even better. Good night."

Angel joins them, Buffy opening the door and he gives her a gentle smile, unsure if he should hug her or pat her arm, resolving that a smile and nod will do. "Thank you again. Sleep well, let me know if you need anything."

"Will do. Good night, Angel," she gives him a soft smile, and he steps outside into the night, Kathy by his side as they leave.

"Bye, have a good day!" Buffy hands over the paper bag to the customer with a bright smile when the bell above the door rings, Angel walking in with Kathy. "Hey!"

"Buffy!" Kathy cries excitedly, rushing over to the counter, "What are you doing here?"

"I work here as a salesclerk for Giles. Are you guys here to see Jenny?"

Kathy nods enthusiastically, and Angel joins them. "Hey, how are you?"

"Good! We got a lot of people today and things are calming down a little. It's crazy that I've never seen you guys come in before."

"Probably just different schedules. Usually I drop Kathy off at the house or Jenny picks her up."

"Well, you guys can go on through to the office, that's where she'll be," Buffy replies cheerily.

"Thanks," Angel replies, giving her a warm smile and he nudges Kathy towards the back of the bookshop. They walk past the bookshelves, but not before he gives her one last glance and disappears. Buffy helps a couple more customers pay for their items, only a few people walking around and loitering, when Giles comes back in, holding a couple books with a frown.

When Buffy moved to Sunnydale, her mom decided it would be good for her to get a job, earn her own allowance and learn new skills. Admittedly, she's never been much of a fanatic reader, but when she first walked into the shop, there was something comforting and homey about the place. The job is relatively easy now, the environment is nice and Giles is a great boss. He can be snippy about certain stuff and resent technology, as well as the whims of teenagers at times, but he genuinely cares and takes interest in her life.

"What's with the face?"

Giles looks up, slightly startled and presses his lips together. "I'm not sure this is the right shipment - I checked our forms, I might need to contact the shipping company."

"Do you want me to do it?"

"No, no, otherwise you'll be on hold for two bloody hours. I can call them."

Angel comes back into the room, clearly on his way out and waves to both of them. "Bye, Giles, thank you. Bye, Buffy."

They both wave back, saying their goodbyes and Buffy's eyes linger on him until he disappears from view. "I never knew Angel was your nephew."

"Ah, yes - you know Angel?"

"Yeah, we've been hanging out. I'm helping him babysit his sister."

Giles looks pleasantly surprised. "That's a wonderful idea. They certainly need the help, since their mother is-" he shakes his head, as if remembering who he's talking to. "It's a very kind gesture."

"Kathy's great, it's not a bad gig at all. My mom thinks it's a great idea, too. Do…does Angel have a lot of friends?"

"A couple, but not from around here. He came to Los Angeles from Ireland as a child, so they're all a bit scattered. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious," Buffy shrugs, trying to seem aloof, "I'm getting to know him, and sometimes he seems like a big mystery. I guess I'm trying to figure him out."

Giles gives her a curious look. "I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask, but Angel is not quite the enigma you may believe. He's lived a difficult life that, as I understand, not many people in this town seek to empathize with."

Buffy's silent for a moment, mulling over Giles's words. She doesn't want to be too much of a snoop, nor invade Angel's privacy, there's just something about him she wants to know. There's clearly more than him, vast layers hidden underneath and he elicits certain emotions she can't exactly control. "You won't tell him I asked you this stuff, right?"

Giles gives her a droll look. "I'll keep your secret."

"I'm sorry, you've done what?"

"I agreed to pretend to date someone," Angel replies casually, as if he's describing the weather, glancing at Spike and Drusilla, who are staring at him incredulously.

"Darling, why on earth would you do that?" Drusilla asks hesitantly as she traces her hand along Spike's arm.

"Because I'm a stupid, fickle person," Angel sighs, settling into a lawn chair and Spike sniggers.

"Spoken like a true Irishman."

Angel rolls his eyes, flipping Spike off but Drusilla doesn't seem quite convinced. She's always been far too insightful, sometimes too much for Angel's liking. "And you never saw this girl before she crawled into your room?"

"I probably passed her a couple times at school, but other than that, not really. What are you trying to find out, Dru?"

"I just want to know more about this girl, unless you'd rather I let my cards do the work," she taps her bag with her foot, where she keeps her tarot cards. Angel blanches at the prospect, as Drusilla is already uncannily good at using those cards to peel back every layer of his life.

They've been friends since they were kids, their families used to be close until she moved away to London, but even then, they found ways to stay in touch over the years. She moved to LA a year ago with William Pratt, also known as Spike, her long-time boyfriend who's loved her since they attended boarding school together. They're now a musician duo known as the Whirlwind, living on the outskirts of LA, trying to take whatever they can get to make it big, including gigs at the Bronze. They occasionally come to visit him, and now they're sitting outside in his backyard, just after a show at the Bronze, sharing a cigarette outside where the smoke can't get into the house. Kathy is sleeping soundly, and Angel's mother is, as usual, nowhere to be found.

"There isn't much to say, her name is Buffy, she's a junior, she works at a bookstore and she's an only child of a divorce. Kathy adores her, my aunt only says good things and Buffy's nice, generous. She isn't afraid to let people see her heart," Angel stops himself as he takes in both Spike and Drusilla's shrewd looks. "What?"

"Nothing, mate. Is she pretty?" Spike asks casually, taking a puff from the cigarette before holding it out as an offer. Angel accepts reluctantly, having a quick smoke before handing it back, not wanting the smell to linger on him. He knows it's not good for him, but sometimes it feels nice to take the edge off.

"Blonde hair, green eyes, short, nice smile, tan skin, most people would say she is," he replies diplomatically. Buffy is pretty - beautiful would be a more suitable term, but his friends can sometimes read him a little too well.

"You should bring her 'round, me and Spike may have another gig at the Bronze soon. Let us meet the girl, we'll behave."

"Have either of you ever behaved properly before for at least a whole day?" Angel teases wryly, he knows all about the kind of reputation they drummed up at boarding school, not too dissimilar from his own. "And you are aware we aren't actually together."

"Completely. We're just curious. We won't frighten her, promise. You know we won't bite - unless she wants us to," Spike cackles amusedly, and Angel rolls his eyes.

Drusilla giggles before calming down and adopting an earnest expression. "This is just very unlike you, my Angel, and I'm curious as to who this girl is."

"Are you sure this is the best idea? Doesn't exactly rank high in one of your smarter moves," Spike adds, uncharacteristically sincere.

"It's just a friendly deal. She needed help, and I decided to step in. That's all there is to it."

Spike stares at him shrewdly before shrugging and Drusilla still looks deep in thought, but they move on to discussing working with record studios in LA and trying to book more gigs.

"What do you think?" Buffy asks nervously, examining her outfit in the mirror. Her and Angel agreed to dress a little nicer for tonight, so she's wearing a pale-blue figure-hugging satin dress with thin straps, and her hair is partially pulled back, her fingers gently pulling at a few strands in the front. "Is it date-at-the-Bronze worthy? Or do you think the white looked better?"

"You look amazing!" Willow responds immediately with a grin, "The perfect outfit for a date."

"Cordelia will definitely approve," Xander adds, "I just hope Angel doesn't get any ideas and keeps his hands to himself."

"I'm sure he'll be a perfect gentleman," Buffy replies casually, taking one last look in the mirror before turning to face her friends. "Time to pull off the best date ever."

"Fake date," Xander corrects her with a frown, and she nods.

"Right."

After that, they all walk to the Bronze together, joking around and chatting about the past school week. When they reach the nightclub, the building is pulsing with music and people are loitering outside the entryway, smoking or talking animatedly. Buffy agreed to meet Angel outside, her friends keeping her company until he arrives and she's laughing so hard at Xander's story of how Principal Snyder chewed out Harmony for stinking up the hallways with her perfume that she doesn't see Angel approaching them.

"Hey," he nods politely at Xander and Willow before turning his gaze to Buffy, "Hi. You look good."

Buffy smiles, pleased by the comment. "Thank you. You clean up nicely, too."

Understatement of the year. She can tell his hair is gelled, coiffed perfectly and he's in black slacks with a clean white shirt, black blazer hanging off his broad shoulders. He looks perfectly delectable, Buffy wouldn't mind taking a bite out of him. Down, girl.

"I'm gonna go in, Oz is probably already playing and it'll be packed, so we should get a table now, right, Xander? Better to have another person, that way we can divide and conquer," Willow suggests quickly, not bothering to wait for an answer and hooks her arm with Xander's, dragging him into the Bronze with a surprising amount of brute strength.

Buffy manages a light chuckle. "I think that was Will's way of letting us make a game plan."

"I have a couple hours before I have to get Kathy," Angel explains, almost apologetic, "Whatever you want to do, I'm on board."

"I'm thinking some dancing, drinks, mingle and talk…nothing too scary."

"Sounds doable. I only hope I won't mortify you with my dancing."

"Nah, you'll be fine. I saw you dancing to the Spice Girls, you weren't terrible," his cheeks redden a little, and Buffy resists the urge to giggle.

She isn't sure who reaches out first, but they're already holding hands and walking into the Bronze together, getting checked by security before entering the crowded club. People fill the room, lining tables and the landing above, Oz's band is taking a break as a female musician with a guitarist and drummer play an indie song, a dreamy and ethereal voice crowding the air.

"Maybe we dance a little bit first," Buffy suggests, loud enough so Angel can hear her over the music and he nods, the two of them weaving their way past people to the dance floor.

She turns to face him once they're amidst the crowd of people dancing, somewhat hesitant and she can see the same kind of uncertainty in his expression. She takes a brave step forward, Angel mimicking her movements and they're almost nose-to-nose, bodies pressed together. Angel tentatively wraps his hands around her back, his hands sinking down far too intimately if it was any other person and Buffy slides her hands up his biceps, resting around his shoulders. They start swaying slowly to the music, holding each other close, and Buffy's danced with plenty of guys before, but when has it ever felt like this?

She briefly meets his eyes, but there is so much tenderness there that she quickly looks away, it's a sight she is unaccustomed to. She turns her head to the side, resting it against his chest where she can hear his heartbeat thumping steadily. He has that spicy cologne smell interspersed with soap, and she snuggles deeper into his chest, feeling his chin touch the top of her head.

"I'm a fire, burning like a house aflame, I am motionless, I can't move or see you fly, now that I've found this love, I'll do anything for you..."

Buffy shuts her eyes, letting the alluring quality of the singer's voice wash over her and maybe, just maybe, for a split second, she kind of wishes this was real.

Translation for Angel's words to Kathy (from Google Translate, which is not 100% accurate): Buffy is a good caretaker and will take care of you. You can trust her.

Reviews are appreciated!