A/N: Thank you to my beta HappyPancreas, who does a most wonderful job! Because she is awesome and fast, this chapter is my bonus gift to you all. Thank you for your reviews (both of them lol) and to all who alert and favorite this little fic.

Chapter 7

Sunny days and Bronze Nights

Her words echoed in his ears.

"Yes. There is, well, kinda, someone."

Sam should have known better – hell, he did know better. He still couldn't believe that he had asked her that question. Even as he had stood on the porch, he could hear Dean's voice ("Don't do it man. Don't say it."), but he ignored it and asked anyways, unable to help himself and effectively putting a dampener on one of the best days of his life. Not just the morning with Buffy, but the whole day; getting invited inside for lunch, meeting her mom, playing games, even watching as Joyce and Buffy made the dinner – Joyce reheating a lasagna that she had frozen from dinner the week before, Buffy making the salad – he loved every moment.

At one point, Buffy had pulled him aside and told him that she was sorry that her mom was being so lame.

Lame.

He had looked at her, dumbfounded.

"Buffy, your mom wanting to spend time with you and your friends could never be lame, it makes you lucky. I never knew my mom. You have no idea many times I wished I could have-" he stopped, his throat closing up.

Buffy reached out and touched his hand lightly. Sam closed his eyes and prayed that tears would not come.

"So, how are you at Boggle then?" she asked lightly, turning away.

Joyce poked her head into the living room.

"Did I hear someone say 'Boggle'?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and winked at Sam.

"Yes. Mom, would you like to play?"

Three games of Boggle later, he had been getting ready to leave when the phone rang. Buffy asked him to wait while she answered the phone. She was only gone for a minute, when she came back.

"That was Willow." She explained. "She was checking to see if I was going to The Bronze tomorrow."

"The Bronze?" Sam inquired.

"Yeah. It's a kind of nightclub but they will let in anyone who pays the cover charge. If you are a minor, you have to wear a bracelet so you can't buy alcohol. The music is really good though…" she trailed off then said, "You should come! You can get to know Willow and Xander- you met them the other day at school and," she said, her voice lowering, "they know about me too. The Slayer me I mean."

"I will try to go." Sam said.

"Good." Buffy replied.

As he walked to the door, Joyce came into the living room and noticed his imminent departure. remembering his manners, Sam turned to Joyce as he opened the door, "Thank you again, Ms. Summers. The lasagna was delicious."

Then he ruined it.

"Buffy?" he asked "Is there- someone? A guy I mean?"

She was quiet for a moment as Sam's face inched closer to hers.

Then she stopped. And sighed.

"Yes. There is, well kinda, someone."

On the walk back to the motel, Sam replayed the conversation in his head and wondered if he could have done things differently. He bet Dean would have known what to do. ("It's all the actions, dude - not the words.") Yep, boyfriend or no boyfriend, Dean would not have hesitated to take Buffy into his arms and –

Was that the Impala?

Sam's steps faltered as he saw the familiar vehicle parked in front of his motel room as he walked across the dimly lit parking lot. His family was back – which usually meant one thing. It was time to leave.

His heart heavy, Sam opened the door.

…there he is!" Dean declared as he shot Sam his patented 'dude, what the hell?' stare. Sam fired back bitchface number two (also known as "I'm not a kid anymore Dean.").

Their father walked out of the bathroom and regarded him with narrowed eyes. Feeling guilty, Sam avoided his gaze as the eldest Winchester looked at his son and waited. Stalling, Sam walked over to the table in the kitchenette and took off his backpack. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his dad cross his arms.

He hung his jacket up in the closet.

When he turned around, he saw his brother laying on one of the queen sized beds, a large yellow bag of peanut M &M's beside him. Dean reached into the bag and took out a handful, one by one he tossed a candy up into the air and caught it in his mouth and smirked gleefully at Sam. ("Hey dude, you asked for it. You're on your own.")

Finally, John spoke.

"Is there a good reason that you are –" pausing, he looked at his watch, "more than two hours late for a check-in?"

Sam had more than a few bitter responses to his father's inquiry, but he held them back.

"No, sir." He said shortly, a tone which earned him a raised eyebrow from his dad

Sam felt the prickle of guilt. He was happy to see his family, but he was disappointed that he was going to be leaving Sunnydale so soon. He straightened his shoulders and looked his father in the eyes.

"I lost track of time," he admitted.

John debated on giving his son a lecture, which would most invariably lead to another one of their famous arguments. However, since it was out of character for Sam to be so irresponsible, he decided to let it go. John was so relieved so relieved to see that Sam was safe and unharmed that he (almost) didn't care that he wasn't here when they arrived back.

Using Winchester avoidance technique number three, John walked to the closet and picked out his jacket.

"I need to go meet with someone. I should be back in a couple of hours. Dean- get some rest; Sam – have everything ready so we can leave tomorrow." Without looking back, he walked out of the door.

Dean swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked at Sam.

"You have no idea how worried Dad was about you. You should have been here Sammy, he was ready to start a search party to find you."

Funny , Sam thought, how Dean could disappear for hours at a time but everyone freaked if he missed one check in.

"Sam!" Dean stood up, "I am serious. What the hell?"

Still irritated, he ignored his brother and walked into the bathroom.

"I'm taking a shower." He closed the bathroom door and locked it.

Of course, Dean would not let it go. Once Sam came out of the bathroom, he kept nagging until Sam exploded at him.

"I'm just sick of it! I just want to be a normal kid for once. I hate this, Dean! Always moving, changing towns, changing friends. It just never ends…"

"Jesus Christ, Sammy, what six legged insect crawled up your ass? This has never bothered you before."

"It has bothered me for a long time, Dean" Sam said quietly, "I just never said anything before."

"Well, why now? Why here? What is so special about Sunnyd-" Dean stopped and looked at Sam, his eyes wide. "Holy shit! It's about a girl!" He laughed gleefully. "Little Sammy is in Luuuu-ve!"

"Shut up Dean."

"HAHA." He slapped Sammy on the back. "You are in love. Tell me about her Sam. Is she a dweeb like you? I can just picture her…she probably is a tall freak like you and wears glasses. Did you kiss her?" Dean wiggled his eyebrows. "Did she let you get to second b-"

Sam stood up and clenched his fists.

"Shut. Up."

The smile disappeared from Dean's eyes.

"You do like her. A lot. Oh, Sammy." Dean looked at him with pity in his eyes.

"Yeah. Well it doesn't matter now, does it? 'Cause we are leaving, just like we always do." Sam didn't try to keep the bitterness from his voice. "And it is not just about a girl. It's just….the possibilities. I just wish there was more time. I liked feeling normal, Dean, and I am not ready to give it up."

Outside the motel door, John had returned earlier than expected as his meeting had been a no-show. Hearing the raised voices coming from inside, he paused, listening as his sons argued.

When he first decided to change his life and hunt the foul fiend that killed his wife, he decided that he would never look back. It had been the right choice for him. It was, in some small way, his salvation and gave his life purpose and focus. Each day brought him closer to the satisfaction of facing his wife's killer.

But, had it been the right decision for his sons?

"It has bothered me for a long time, Dean, I just never said anything before."

John stepped back from the door and turned away. He had some thinking to do.

The boys lay on their beds in the darkness of the room. Dean had been filling Sam in on the latest adventure.

"…and you don't want to know what happens when you turn on the wipers. It is just wrong Sammy. Damn Gremlins!" he grumbled heatedly. "It took hours to get the lights working right - every time we turned on the headlights, the radio would turn off. Off!"

Sam chuckled.

"Stop laughing Sam. It is just so …undignified. Poor Baby," Dean said, mournfully.

"Did you find the Gremlins?"

"No. They had messed up Baby so badly, it took hours to get her rewired just so we could start her." Dean yawned and, in the ensuing silence, the brothers drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Sam woke up and finished dressing in his favorite sweats just as his father was walking through the door. John paused, looking at the bags stacked neatly by the door. As requested, Sam had packed up all of his belongs.

"There has been a change of plans, son. Looks like you are going to be stuck in this town for a few more weeks, maybe as long as a month."

Sam sat up and looked at his dad. John bit back a smile at the spark of excitement he saw in his son's eyes.

"I am sorry to do this to you, but it turns out this area is a bit of a hot-spot," he continued, "We need this –" he waved his hands around the motel room, "to be our base of operations in between jobs. Dean and I will need to head out in a few hours, but we should be back in three days..."

John continued talking, but Sam hardly listened. As long as a month! He went to his father and, in a rare display, he grabbed his father and hugged him. John hugged him back, then reluctantly let go. Awkwardly, the pair stepped back and regarded each other. Abruptly, Sam said he would go for a run. He went to the door and opened it.

"Sam." John said.

Pausing, he turned back and looked at his dad. A small black object flew towards him. Sam caught it in his left hand. Sam looked down at the cell phone.

"That phone rings, you had better damn well answer it, kid. Keep it charged and with you at all times."

A huge grin spread across Sam face,

"Thanks Dad." Then he was gone.

John looked over at Dean, who was lying on the bed watching him.

"You sure about this?" Dean asked his father.

"No. But, I figured we could give the kid a break. What's a month?"

Dean shrugged. "And when the month is up?"

The two men looked at each other, the question hanging in the air.

A few hours after his father and brother pulled out of the parking lot, Sam left the motel room. As promised, he had charged the cell phone before heading to Bronze to meet with Buffy.

There was a short line at the doors to get inside, but the bouncer, who bore a striking resemblance to Bruce Willis (circa "Moonlighting" era, back when he had hair) was quick and efficient so the line moved quickly. A minute barely passed while he waited and then Sam was flashing his ID, one that showed his actual age, and a florescent red strap was wrapped around his wrist.

When he stepped inside, he scanned and studied the interior (one side exit on east wall, two separate staircases on either side of the interior that led upward, one door with a circular window that most likely led to the kitchen, two hallways – one on the east wall to the restrooms and the other off the back wall).

Casually, he walked around the room. There were few tables scattered around the perimeter of the parquet dance floor, a raised stage and one long bar counter near the kitchen door. Towards the back, the room was divided by a wide, door-less entry in another room, there were more tables and a few couches and love seats, an arrangement, he thought, more suited to a book store rather than a night club

He found a third staircase that led toward a lower level and a sign that proclaimed to one and all that "Band Members and Management Only" were permitted below.

He noted the band, playing on the stage. A few days ago, when he was watching Oz's band during their "practice/gig", the guys had talked about getting good enough to play at The Bronze. (Although the band still didn't have a name, they had managed to get a new singer- a guy by the name of Devon.) Idly, Sam wondered how long it would take the band to get the chance to play at Sunnydale's premier nightspot.

Throughout his tour of the club, he kept an eye out for Buffy, but saw no sign of her or her friends. Spying an empty table, he walked over and sat down at high table surrounded by stools. Immediately, a waitress came over to take his drink order. The quick glance at his wrist band had him rethink his urge to order a beer and he opted for a ginger ale instead. On his birthday, his brother slipped him a fake ID and a stern warning ("Use it wisely, Sammy! Dad will kill me if he knew I gave this to you."), however, the ID was back in the motel room tucked inside the inner pocket of his duffle.

Sam turned his attention to the dancers on the floor, recognizing some of the flushed faces from school. Everyone looked like they were having a good time. The song ended and the band switched into a new song, with a heavy bass and fast beat. Judging by the cheer from the dancers on the floor, it was clearly a crowd favorite.

Sam felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Buffy standing behind him with her friends. He tried to ignore the flip his stomach gave as he saw her– boyfriend! She has a boyfriend! His mind whispered – but it was difficult since she looked almost as happy to see him as he was to see her.

Buffy turned to her friends and said something to them. They nodded and moved away. She leaned forward and Sam could barely make out her words, the music was so loud.

"…over here. It will be… talk." Sam smiled when he felt the surge of heat as Buffy grasped his hand and tugged. The first few times he felt the strange sensation he thought it was a figment of his imagination, but now he knew that he wasn't imaging it.

Grabbing his drink with his free hand, Sam got up and followed. Buffy led him into another room, where there were more tables and a few couches but the music wasn't as loud. He spied Willow and Xander sitting on a love seat. Releasing his hand, Buffy walked over and flopped on the couch across from her friends.

She pointed beside her and looked at Sam expectantly.

"Sit." she ordered with a smile. "Isn't this better? You can still hear the music, but it isn't as loud. Sam, this is Willow and Xander. Guy's, you remember Sam?"

The next two hours flew by as the group talked and laughed. Willow and Xander were startled when they realized that he was aware of Buffy's extracurricular, and sometimes nocturnal, activities and that Giles moonlighted as a Watcher. He recounted the events that had led to his discovery and his initial meeting with Buffy in the Library. Xander remarked on Sam's easy acceptance of Buffy's slaying; Willow caught the glance that Buffy and Sam shared.

"I suppose this isn't your first experience with the mystical and magical?" she correctly guessed.

Sam hesitated, but then shook his head. Xander looked at Sam speculatively. "So there are other hellmouths that you have been too?"

Again, Sam shook his head. "There doesn't have to be a hell mouth for-" he paused, searching for the right word, "the supernatural to occur." Then, Sam shared a few carefully edited stories of his own.

"I don't understand," Willow said, "your stories are from all over the United States. Where did you live before Sunnydale?"

Without thinking, Sam replied, "Wherever the hunt took us."

Realizing what he just said, Sam leaned back and closed his eyes. ("Trust no one…") He felt the soft touch of Buffy's hand as she gently squeezed his hand.

"You can trust them. I promise. I trust them and they have always stood by me."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. For a moment, the music, the crowd - everything - faded and it was just the two of them. Heat flowed from her hand on to his. Buffy's eyes and she looked down at their joined hands. She feels it too! Sam thought. Then, she blinked and gently slid her hand off of his and looked away.

Sam looked at Willow and Xander. Before he could change his mind, he said "It's what we are - my family - we are Hunters."

"…and you don't have any powers or super-special abilities?" Xander was asking.

"Nope. We've just learned a lot of tricks that help us out. We make special ammo using rock salt instead of gun powder, which is more effective against ghosts, demons and other entities."

The conversation turned after that; Xander and Willow shared some of their stories with him. Praying-mantis women, wanna-be-cheerleading-witches, computer boyfriends – it would have been hard to believe if Sam had led a different life. Instead, he found their stories all too easy to believe.

The band had been on a short break and had come back on to the stage. Another fast song poured through the speakers.

Willow's face lit up.

"I love this song! Let's go dance." She exclaimed.

Buffy, Willow and Xander stood up but Sam remained seated on the couch, suddenly self-conscious. The trio stopped and looked at him.

"C'mon, Sam." Willow said, reaching down to grab his hand.

"Uh…I'm okay here thanks. You guys go ahead without me." Sam looked down at the couch, suddenly very interested in watching the ice melt in his empty glass.

The threesome sat back down and looked at Sam.

"Really, I will be okay. You guys go ahead without me."

"Nope." Xander said, shaking his head, "If you don't go, we don't go."

Sam looked over at Buffy and Willow.

"It's sad but true." Willow said, "We will just sit with you. No need for dancing and fun, it would be rude."

They looked at him expectantly.

Sam sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

"I can't dance." He confessed.

For a moment everyone was quiet. Reluctantly, Sam looked at the small group just in time to see Buffy and Willow shared a delighted smile. As if on springs, they bounced from their seats and each girl grabbed one of Sam's hands.

"Is that all? C'mon it's easy. We will show you." They tugged until Sam stood up.

"I'll look ridiculous. Everyone will stare."

Xander shook his head.

"No, they won't. You can do anything out there and no one will care. You just have fun."

"See," Buffy said, "No one cares. Just have fun. Besides, Xander can't dance either, so you won't be alone."

"Right," Xander nodded affably and followed Buffy and Willow as they pulled Sam towards the floor. "Fun. HEY- I can so dance!"

The following week, after the final bell signaled the end of the school day, Buffy and Willow ambled their way off the school grounds.

"He can't be serious! The talent show? I am not getting up in front of the whole school…" Buffy griped.

"Buffy," Willow gave her friend a fleeting reproachful look, always uncomfortable when authority figures were being discussed disrespectfully. "You heard Principal Snyder. We don't have a choice and I am sure we can come with something. Can you sing?" Willow looked at Buffy hopefully.

"Will, I don't even sing in the shower. The only singing I would ever do willingly would involve some kind of spell or being compelled against my will or both! Not likely!"

The two girls were silent as they pondered their dilemma.

Willow sighed. "I guess we will just have to- hey! Is that Sam?"

Feeling her stomach give a little flip at the mention of his name, Buffy looked in the direction that Willow pointed, trying to appear casual. She spotted the lanky teen walking with another Willow asked. "Yes." Buffy agreed. "That other guy looks familiar; I don't remember his name though."

"Andrew," Willow supplied "he is the one Larry is always picking on. It's nice that Sam is talking to him, Andrew doesn't have a lot of friends."

She recalled the incident a few weeks ago, when Larry was bullying Andrew. While Buffy had dealt with Larry, Sam had helped Andrew. She realized that she often went for the bully and hardly thought about the victim. Sam was not like that.

She spoke with Willow for another moment, until Ms. Calendar was leaving the school. Willow realized that she needed to talk to the teacher about a computer assignment she was given earlier that day. She apologized to Buffy and then chased after the teacher.

Buffy began to walk in the direction that Sam had taken a few minutes ago with Andrew. She had a question…

"…I still don't see why you should care one way or the other." Andrew said to Sam.

"I know how it feels, Andrew, that's all."

"Hardly." Andrew scoffed as he looked up at Sam. "I don't think you have ever been bullied a day in your life."

"Not anymore," Sam laughed, "But I wasn't always this tall. For years, until I was about thirteen, I was the shortest guy in the class and there were always plenty of guys who thought it was fun to push me around."

Andrew narrowed his eyes, wondering if the other teen was telling the truth. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded.

"Okay, say I believe you, how can you help me? Are you going to become my personal bodyguard?"

"Nope," Sam shook his head, "but I can teach you a few things about balance, falling safely and maybe getting the upper hand."

Andrew was still skeptical, yet he couldn't ignore the spark of excitement inside. It would be nice to see the look on Larry's face if he got the upper hand for once.

"So, what do we do?" Andrew asked.

Sam smiled. "Okay, it sounds kind of stupid, but you have to learn how to fall. If someone pushes you forward or backward, you need to learn how to fall without getting hurt."

Andrew's face fell.

"I get it. This is where you get to push me down and laugh at me for being such a gullible idiot." He reached down to pick up his backpack. "Not going to happen, Sam."

Sam stepped forward.

"Well, how about you push me down? I can show you how to fall and get back on your feet. You don't have to try until you want to."

Andrew looked skeptically at the tall junior. Was this guy for real?

Buffy turned the corner, just in time to see Andrew run towards Sam and give him a mighty shove. She was about to intervene, but stopped when Sam rolled neatly backwards and stood again.

Then she watched as Sam knelt on the ground on one knee and slowly rolled backwards until he was kneeling again. He said something to Andrew, and the freshman shook his head. Sam nodded and stood up again. Again, Andrew rushed toward Sam, pushing him backwards. Again Sam rolled backward ending in a kneeling position on knee.

Andrew said something to Sam, who nodded and stood and turned with his back to younger teen. Andrew backed up and ran toward him, pushing him forward. Sam rolled forward and stood. Then, he knelt down on the ground, with one knee up and slowly demonstrated the roll.

Although there were a few kids still milling about on school property, this area was deserted. Quietly, Buffy backed up and leaned against the wall of the school, having an idea of what she thought was happening.

Time after time, Andrew pushed him backwards and forwards, while Sam patiently let him. Then, Andrew stopped and spoke to Sam. Sam nodded and knelt on knee on the ground and Andrew did the same. He watched as Sam slowly demonstrated a backwards roll again. Andrew mimicked him.

Andrew's first couple attempts were awkward-jerky and uncoordinated, but she admired the kid's determination, just as she admired Sam's patience. He was a natural teacher.

When the younger teen felt more confident with the rolls, they stopped. Andrew grabbed his backpack off of the ground and turned to Sam with a question on his face.

"Do you think you could teach me some more? I don't have a lot of free time after school since I spend practically all of my free time practicing the Piano, but I have Mondays free."

Sam smiled at Andrew.

"Sure. I don't know how long I will be staying, but while I am here, I could show you a few more tricks."

"Thanks Sam. You're a really good teacher!" Andrew grinned and he turned away.

Sam watched Andrew, feeling pleased. He was a good teacher! For his whole life, he had always been the one that needed to learn, his brother had been the one to teach. With his lifestyle, he never thought about teaching. He thought about the teacher's he had in the past and wondered how they had chosen their careers. Did they have a moment like this? He imagined going to College and becoming a teacher. It seemed stable, boring even. Safe.

If only, he thought wistfully, colleges had teacher courses in -

His thoughts stopped and his heart skipped a beat when he saw her sitting against the wall, watching him. Catching his look she waved, a smile on her face. Sam walked over to her and sat down beside her, his back to the wall.

They sat close together and her hand rested on the concrete pad where they both sat, his hand was less than an inch away. They didn't touch, but he felt as if a magnet was pulling his hand towards hers.

Boyfriend! He reminded himself fiercely.

"You looked like you were enjoying yourself." she commented.

Sam felt a smile spread across his face.

"I did. It felt...good. No-it felt great!"

The music – heavy with the beat; the lights –flashing, flickering; the crowd-cheering, clapping, bodies pulsing along with the beat. The laughter-friendly faces, smiling, happy to see him; the dancing - he danced! And he loved it! (The inner Dean once tried to make fun, but Sam slammed that voice down. For the first time, he didn't wonder or care what the oldest Winchester brother would think.)

His friends were here.

Willow – he had forgotten how innocent people could be. She was a good reminder of why the world needed Hunters and Slayers.

Xander – he was a mix of awkward and easy going, completely likable. They shared the same guilty pleasure - comic books.

Buffy - she was the best part. He didn't even care about the boyfriend. In some ways, the fact that she had a guy in her life was a relief. Sam knew, if she didn't have a boyfriend, he would never be able to leave Sunnydale, instead, he would fight tooth and nail to stay regardless of the consequences. He knew that his days were numbered - he would be leaving soon.

There were others, of course. Even if they weren't present, he considered them his friends.

Giles –So different from his relationship with his father – asking why was not encouraged by John Winchester. If he asked, you did, it was that simple. Yet Giles took Sam seriously, patiently answering the multitude of questions that Sam had on Watchers. If Giles didn't know the answer, he would tell Sam "Let me look that up. I will get back to you." Sam knew that Giles would follow through.

Oz- well, Oz was just Oz…he was cool.

The band took a break. The crowd broke apart. Xander and Willow went to grab some drinks (it was their turn to pay), Sam and Buffy walked back to the table they claimed earlier. Buffy wore her hair down tonight. She reached her hands behind her neck and lifted her hair for a moment. He would have been dead not to have noticed the way it pulled her shirt tighter across her breasts.

He couldn't help it, his mind wandered as he fantasized what would happen if...

He reaches out and grabs her hand. She pauses and looks over at him. Gently, he tugs her closer. There is no resistance as he pulls her closer and leans down to whisper in her ear.

"Let's get out of here." She shivers and gives him a smile. "I know just the place." she says.

Together they share a smile at the heat that flows between their clasped hands. They walk out of the Bronze and down the street. At the intersection of an alley, Buffy pulls him into the dark lane and backs up against the side wall as she tugs him toward her. Again, they feel the rush of heat that flows between their joined hands.

He looks down at her face as she looks up at him.

"Can you feel that?" she asks him.

He nods, because it is the absolute truth. The heat rushes from her hand and up his arm, then spreads all over his body. He looks at her flush on her cheeks and knows she is experiencing the same reaction.

He steps closer to her, she steps closer, molding herself to him. She lets go of his hands and slides her hands up his chest. He groans as she leaves a burning trail of heat as her hands slide up to his neck. He slides his around her waist and pulls her closer to him. The back of her shirt rides up as she reaches around his neck and guides his head down to hers. Smooth as silk, his hands slide her shirt and up her back. She makes a sound that is part moan and part sigh. Their lips meet…and the heat between them becomes a blaze...

"Ohmigod!" Buffy exclaimed.

Sam blinked.

They were seated around one of the Bronze's high round bar tables, Buffy attention focused on something behind him, a surprised smile on her face. Xander and Willow arrived at the table, each with a drink in each hand.

Noticing Buffy's expression, Xander glanced toward the door.

"Great." he says sourly as Buffy got up and walked away.

"Xander, be nice." Willow said, reprovingly.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

"Angel." Xander said, flatly.

"Angel." Willow sighed with a wistful smile.

"Maybe we will get lucky and he will leave." Xander said, somewhat hopefully.

Sam stiffened for a moment, but resisted the urge to turn around. He had been around long enough, to know who Angel was. Kinda someone. They hadn't met and, although he was filled with curiosity, he didn't turn around. Instead, he looked into one of the mirrors on the wall.

He watched Buffy as she walked toward the door and looked at the guy waiting in the doorway. He had to admit, he was a little surprised. From the way everyone talked about Angel, Sam expected him to look more dangerous, more intimidating. He didn't think that the tall, skinny red-head in the doorway was her type.

The red-head turned away as Buffy arrived and walked off in the opposite direction. Sam felt a spark of indignation. Buffy deserved better than that! Obviously, she thought so too. She had turned and was coming back to the table. She didn't seem too torn up about the snub, Sam noted.

"Fuck." Xander said softly. "They are coming over."

With a sinking feeling, Sam watched as Buffy in the mirror, as she approached, alone.

"Angel's going to join us." Buffy said, smiling. Slowly, Sam turned his head and looked at the guy with Buffy and, silently, he echoed Xander's sentiments.

Fuck.

He had almost arrived in Sunnydale when he felt the pull of the Summons, which he couldn't ignore, even if he wanted to. The timing was inconvenient and he was certain that the answer was in Sunnydale. Frustrated at the interruption, he directed his essence back to Hell, unable to guess how long he would be under.

Time moved differently in Hell.

He would be back. And when he was, he was sure that he could reinforce the connection and make it stronger than ever.

He was about to enter the gates of Hell when he felt the connection fracture. With a roar of rage, he tried to turn away. But it was too late. He had already crossed over into the borders of Hell. He didn't panic, he could only be grateful that although the connection was splintered, tenuous at best, it was not severed.

She would be the first one to welcome him, he thought snidely as he looked at female form standing at the gates of hell. The regarded each other, the wariness between them always present.

They both hated it here, yet neither one would admit it to the other. Both preferred to be above ground where souls were easier to collect. Souls were currency, power.

"Lilith." he said.

"Azazel." she responded.