Disclaimer: I don't own the challenge; that belongs to Lee. Buffy and Angel and respective characters belong to Joss Whedon, and Ocean's Eleven belongs to Warner Bros.

Feedback: Please do.

Challenge: Basically, redo the basic plot of Ocean's Eleven with Buffy and Angel characters. Angel should take the place of Danny Ocean, and Connor as Linus Caldwell. The other characters are up to you.

Other Requirements:
Keep the running gag of the Rusty character always eating/drinking something.

All characters should be at the jobs they were in the movie (Frank a dealer in a casino, Basher in the middle of another heist, Rusty teaching movie stars how to play poker, Danny/Angel in jail, Livingston working freelance for the FBI, etc.)

Angel's Eleven

Later that night, in her private suite, Buffy Summers sat in her bathroom, readying herself for the big evening as she applied what little make-up she commonly wore in these situations. Even when she'd been at school and a member of 'the popular crowd'- before the incident with the demented rapists and her having to burn the gym down- she'd never really been all that interested in make-up, preferring to rely on her own natural appearance to attract attention.

For a moment, Buffy felt a brief pang of regret that she even felt the need to do all this as she met her own glance in the mirror- her last boyfriend had always assured her she looked fine whatever she wore, but Parker kept on trying to make her dress in a manner that made her look like she was worth at least a few million dollars and was determined to look like she was more than she actually was.

True, she thought that it was nice that he was willing to spend all that money on her, but she'd like to feel as though she had more control over her choice of dress than she seemed to have at times…

Glancing into the mirror, Buffy idly noticed Parker in its reflection, pacing the bedroom behind her as he talked impatiently into his cell phone.

"Yes," Parker said on the phone, rolling his eyes slightly in exasperation at whoever was on the other side as he spoke. "Yes. No. Very much no."

There was a pause for a moment, and then Parker continued talking.

"Then inform Mr. Levin he'll find a better view of the fight in front of his television," Parker finally stated, snapping angrily into the phone; evidently, someone was trying to arrange better seats for tonight's fight and he wasn't happy about it. "Surely he must have H.B.O."

Terminating the connection with an angry jab at the button, Parker sighed, tossed the phone off to one side, and walked into the bathroom. Standing behind her, Parker placed his hands on her shoulders, and, his head above hers, looked into the mirror before the two of them for a moment.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, a casual tone belying the underlying tension in his body.

Buffy wasn't sure why this was- if he knew about her meeting with Angel, she had no doubt he would have mentioned it by now; he could sometimes be annoyingly jealous- so she tried to shrug it off and act normal.

"You," she replied simply, smiling slightly at him in the mirror; after all, even if it wasn't quite in the context that she hoped her tone implied it was, she had been thinking of him…

However, Parker appeared unconcerned about that; shrugging in a nonchalant manner, as though he'd almost expected her to say that, he turned around and walked back into the bedroom, heading for the wardrobe that contained his suit.

Buffy tried to pass it off as she continued applying make-up, but, once again, her mind through up an unwelcome comparison between her present and her past.

Parker seemed to take it for granted that she'd be thinking about him; Angel had often told her that he'd always be amazed that someone like her would even look at him…

Stop it! Buffy mentally scolded herself, as she turned her attention back to the matter of getting ready. He lied to you for years; stop thinking about him like that!

Even as she turned back to the mirror, however, she knew that such a thing was easier said than done…

As he took the elevator down to the main floor of the casino for one last check over the place before the fight began, Parker glanced at his watch, noting with self-approval that he was in plenty of time for his meeting with Lyman Zerga. If nothing untoward occurred, he should manage to finish his business with the man and still have plenty of

As the elevator doors opened, Parker took a moment to survey his surroundings, once again confirming his status as 'the king of Las Vegas' in his mind- having come so far he was determined not to let the opportunity to appreciate his wealth go by- and then walked out into the casino, at seven o'clock on the dot.

All in all, he had to admit that he was very satisfied with how things were going. He was the owner of three of the most profitable casinos in Las Vegas, bringing in more money in a month than most people made in a year, and anyone who messed with him not only ended up ruined, the lives of those connected to them were also ruined.

Ah yes, Parker mused to himself, as he began to head towards the floor manager. Whoever said it first was correct; it is indeed very good to be King…

Little did Parker know that, from a window above him, as he headed for his customary appointment with his casino manager, Liam 'Angel' Angelus was watching him, casually swirling a drink in his hand as he studied the man whose life he was about to ruin.

Despite himself- he had promised to try and keep emotion out of the matter at hand- Angel smiled as he glared at the self-proclaimed 'King of the Strip' walking below him.

Payback's a bitch, you bastard, he grinned, as he stared at one of the few men left who personified the evil that had taken away his life. I may not be a bitch, but trust me; I'm payback.

He just hoped everything went according to plan at the other end; that last-minute adjustment to the plan could cause problems…

But, if his revenge was going to be successful, everything needed to be covered.

In another room of the casino, as she sat in her chair, Lilah Morgan smiled casually as she listened to a phone call.

"So, you're sure this is going to work?" she asked, casually tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair as she spoke. "Just because you were pretty much the best I had back then doesn't mean I'm just taking everything you're telling me as gospel, you know…"

"Trust me; the plan can't fail," the voice on the other end said. "You know as well as I do that the bruiser you hired hates Angel; even if he doesn't kill him, our favourite detective will be in no shape to interfere with the plan until it's too late and his… associates… are down for the count."

"And you're sure you've got the evidence we need?" Lilah asked, trying to conceal her anxiety and eagerness at the prospect of finally putting Angel away for good. "I didn't come this far to fail at the last minute…"

"Everything's been recorded to be used as evidence, and I've already sent it to the post office to be sent to you once everything's over; you'll be fine," the voice said, before his tone become suddenly inquiring. "I still don't understand why you don't just take Angel out before he starts, rather than wait for his associates to begin the plan…"

Lilah sighed slightly.

"Simple, my good sir," she said sarcastically, as she leaned back in the chair to get slightly more comfortable before continuing. "If I go after Angel now, than I don't have any actual evidence that he's doing anything wrong. I do it thisway, I can catch him pretty much red-handed; I'd like to see him get out of that."

"Indeed," the man said simply.

"You're not having… doubts, are you?" Lilah asked, raising a curious eyebrow as she leaned forward in the chair once again. "I mean, he is your 'friend', as well as those people you're working with; maybe you don't want to do this to him-"

"I spent four years following the orders of a man who I could have outwitted and outsmarted every day of the week, and when he gets out of jail he just automatically expects me to follow his orders as though nothing has changed and he's somehow smarter than me, even though he was captured while I wasn't," the voice on the other end of the line said angrily. "Trust me, Lilah; I'm willing to do this. If Angel thinks I'll just blindly follow him like everyone else, he- and those idiots who are still prepared to take orders from him- deserve everything that's going to happen to them once this night is over."

Lilah smiled.

"Gotcha, Wes; you're willing to take down Angel, and that's all I need," she said, grinning broadly at the man on the other end of the line. "See you tonight when it's all over; you know where I'll be."

Then she terminated the call and sat back in her chair, a broad grin on her face at the thought of the double prize she'd have bagged by the end of tonight; one of the best screws she'd ever had (Not that she'd ever tell him that) and Liam Angelus, back in prison for attempted grand theft…

Life was good.

Life was very good.

After the customary quick stroll through the casino Noting, much to his pleasure, that he was so far brining in more money than he was losing), Abrams soon found himself standing alongside his casino Manager, acting exactly according to his personal schedule.

"Any sign of Angelus?" he asked, glaring at the man with an expression that suggested that, if there had been a sign of Angelus, it would be his fault.

"Not in a couple hours," the manager replied, glancing inquiringly at his boss. "If we see him, you want him out? I can bounce him from the state for parole violation if you like."

For a moment, Parker couldn't deny that the prospect was certainly tempting, but, after a moment's contemplation, he shook his head; it lacked the personal touch that he preferred in these kind of situations.

"Just put a guy on him," he said, as he looked back at the manager. "He's here for a reason, and I'd like to know what it is. But if he comes anywhere near Buffy…"

He left the threat hanging for a moment, and then finished his sentence. "Take it to the next level.

"The bruiser?" the manager asked, raising an eyebrow as a small smile crossed his lips. After learning who'd angered his boss, he'd checked the files on Angel, and noted a link between Angel and one of their more… efficient bruisers (Although he doubled up as manual labour and construction) which should make a meeting between the two… interesting, to say the least.

Parker, however, gave no indication that he knew about the link in question; he simply nodded and continued on his way to the door of the casino. As he approached it, he saw the man he knew as Lyman Zerga standing at the door, his back ramrod straight as he stared through sliding glass doors out at the valet station.

As Abrams approached him from behind, two security guards walking half a pace behind him, 'Zerga's' eyes flicked briefly to a point on the glass that showed Abrams' reflection, but he didn't bother to turn. This was for two reasons; firstly, he didn't want to give Abrams the impression that he considered him worthy of his attention, and second, he didn't even like the man that much, and wanted to simply pay as little attention to him as humanly possible.

"Mr. Abrams," Giles said, nodding briefly at the man whose life he was about to ruin as he stepped up to stand beside Giles, the security men positioned behind them.

"Mr. Zerga," Parker said, nodding back at the man he knew as Lyman Zerga. "It's a very busy night for me. Are we on schedule?"

"I have no reason to suspect otherwise," Giles said, taking care to remember his accent; it wouldn't do to slip up at the last minute right now. "My couriers should be here momentarily."

For a moment, there was silence as Abrams studied Giles, as though trying to decide something, but then he spoke.

"It's a nice evening," he said, indicating the door before them with one hand as he looked at Giles. "Shall we wait outside?"

As the two men emerged from the casino, guards around them, neither of them were aware of the brief conversation that was taking place only a few metres away from them (Although Giles knew the speakers were present; he just wasn't certain where they were in relation to him), as a figure dressed in a black suit sat in a car and, eyes fixed on the doors, raised a small radio to his mouth.

"They're in position," the speaker said, a small smile on her face as she spoke.

"Okay," the voice of Willow Rosenberg said on the other end of the radio, no trace of her usual anxiety present now that all the loose ends were tied up. "We're a go; good luck, break a leg, and all that."

Nodding grimly, Faith terminated the call and glanced back at Gwen, grinning slightly at the fake moustache on her sister's lip; she tended not to think too much about the fact that she was wearing one herself.

"You ready?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she studied her sister.

Gwen nodded grimly as she stared at the casino, her hands clasped tightly on the wheel as she glared ahead; she always seemed to take the whole 'redemption' theme of their work with Angel more to heart than Faith did.

"Right then," Faith said, glancing at her wrist once to make sure the briefcase was attached before settling back into the seat. "Let's do it."

As the two men stood outside the casino, a white, unmarked van pulled in from the street and raced up to the curb where they had just positioned themselves to wait for the arrival of the package.

Once again wearing their chauffer disguises, their breasts strapped down as well as could be done without resorting to plastic surgery, Faith and Gwen stepped out of the car, their hair hundled up under chauffer hats. Faith stepped out of gets out the passenger's side, a briefcase handcuffed to her wrist, as Gwen comes around from the driver's side, both of them dressed in their bodyguard suits.

"Mr. Zerga," Gwen said, nodding politely at Giles, trying to disguise her usual accent as much as possible and keep her voice deep. "A gift from Mr. Hesse."

As she spoke, Faith extended the arm connected to the briefcase to Giles, so that they both clasped the handle. As soon as both of them had a hold on the handle, Gwen stepped forward, a key in her hand, to unlock the cuff on her sister's wrist. As soon it was off, the cuff was transferred to Giles's wrist and clamped shut. Politely, Gwen handed the key to Giles, who took it and nodded briefly at the two of them.

"Thank you, Friedrich, Gunther," he said, nodding briefly at the two of them before turning to look at Abrams. The two men exchanged confirming nods, and then they retreated into the hotel, the security guards and the Raidens flanking them.

As he dealt blackjack to a full table, knowing he had to keep acting normal until the time came for his part in the plan, Gunn couldn't resist briefly glancing up as he heard the faint trace of footsteps; Giles had assured him that he'd be allowed to see them take the steps that would lead to the end of the people who'd ruined his life.

After all, he'd like one last reminder of just how big a bunch of jerks these guys could be to assure him that he was doing the right thing.

As he heard the footsteps, Gunn allowed his eyes to briefly gaze past his players, settling on the familiar forms of Giles and the Raidens before passing them to stare at Abrams and his guards.

As he busted the cards, Gunn chuckled inwardly.

Lookin' like a bad night for the house… he mused inwardly, as he prepared to deal out his current hand once more.

In a matter of moments, these bastards would have lost pretty much everything they'd spent the last few years recreating after Angel blew up their offices…

And, if they were willing to rebuild again, Gunn would be very surprised; he doubted that anybody could be that persistent, insurance company or not.

It was only by chance that Parker even noticed Angel. As he walked through the casino behind the man he knew as Lyman Zerga, constantly scanning his surroundings, his eyes soon fell on the man who, according to Lilah Morgan, was the single greatest threat to both his career and his future relationship with Buffy Summers; the man who called himself 'Angel', lurking at a slot machine.

"Find Mr. Harris," he said to the nearest guard as he looked at Angel, sure to keep his voice low so that 'Zerga' couldn't hear him. "Tell him Mr. Angelus is in the west slots, and tell him to get ready to… do what I pay him for."

The guard nodded briefly at Abrams and then walked away, leaving his boss to continue walking with Giles

"I'm afraid I can't allow any private security personnel inside the casino cages," Parker said, indicating Faith and Gwen with a wave of his hand as he did so. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Giles said, shrugging nonchalantly; in all fairness, it hardly mattered how many people were there when he handed the package over, given that he wasn't going to be picking it up when everything was over anyway.

With that in mind, Giles turned to dismiss Faith and Gwen- they had needed to leave for the next part of the plan anyway- when an old man who Giles vaguely recognized from the racetrack, passing by on his way to a sports betting window, glanced in his direction and, worst of all, managed to recognize him.

"Giles?" the man said, grinning broadly as he stared at the ex-librarian. "Rupert Giles, is that you?"

Turning away, Giles did his best to ignore the man, even though he knew it wouldn't be enough; Parker Abrams couldn't fail to notice that this guy seemed to know 'Lyman Zerga' by another name.

"Giles, it's me!" the man said, removing his sunglasses to grin broadly at the other man. "Bucky Buchanan, remember? From Saratoga?"

Sighing slightly as he did so, wishing there was a way to do this that wouldn't insult Buchanan- he was a decent enough person, if Giles recalled- Giles turned to face this man, with shark's eyes.

"Friedrich, Gunther," he said, nodding briefly at Gwen and Faith even as he made a mental note to send an explanation and a few hundred dollars to the man before him to make up for what he had to do at the moment. "An order: dispose of this man."

Nodding briefly at Giles, Gwen and Faith walked up to Buchanan, grabbed him by his elbows, and hauled him away, leaving Giles to turn back to Parker and shrug apologetically.

"Mr. Abrams..." he said, as though nothing had happened, as he gestured to the handcuff connecting him to the briefcase. "Please; I have never enjoyed the touch of steel to my skin."

As he began to walk towards the doors of the vault, Giles sent up a silent thanks to whoever was watching him up there at the moment, even as he hoped that his luck would hold and the others would begin their parts of the plan soon.

If he was keeping track of the time accurately, Connor should be in position by now, leaving them only waiting for Gwen and Faith to get into position for Oz's role of the plan to begin…
As he watched Parker and Giles round the corner from his position among the slot machines- he'd concluded it was as good a way to remain anonymous in a casino as any- Angel smiled to himself.

So far, the core plan was going off without a hitch; in a matter of moments, the briefcase would be on its way into the vault, accompanied by Oz (So long as the Raidens remained on schedule, given that little unexpected arrival), and then…

Well, that was where the plan got really cunning, if Angel said so himself…

And on that topic, it was time for Angel to finish his business here. Pulling the lever of the machine before him, Angel smiled slightly as the four cherries slid into position before him. Glancing around himself, Angel's eyes fell on the surrounding group of octogenarians as they put coins into the machine listlessly. Quickly picking his 'target- a senior citizen to seemed to be, almost literally, blind as a bat- Angel walked over, placed his hands gently on the man's shoulders, and steered him towards his own slot machine.

"Pops," Angel said, barely even aware of his slight accent- years of 'undercover work' meant that it was almost natural for him to use a false voice when he was in action- as he sat the man down in his old seat, "you won."

Barely even stopping to register the man's reaction, Angel strode off into the machines, hoping that he'd manage to pull this next part of the plan off; he thought he could predict her reaction, but, after all, a lot can change in five years…

Here goes nothing, he thought to himself, as he turned in the direction of the bar where he'd last seen Buffy.