"People don't fall in love with what's right in front of them. People want the dream - what they can't have. The more unattainable, the more attractive."

-Xander

Chapter 3

She'd been sitting there for two minutes but it felt like two years. Mr. Bob Fluttie, Principal of Sunnydale High, was looking her over with warmth that, if the memories of the future were any indication, would turn into mild panic. She couldn't blame him this time around, after all what she had done wasn't near as bad as what she would do. Or would have done. The validity of her dreams/memories had already been confirmed, after all she was here in Sunnydale and she had managed to suprise Giles with that knowledge. However she wasn't so immature, since The Night, to assume that things would go as planned. She had already changed a few things, how that affected the future should have scared her. It didn't.

Whatever happened because of the changed she made she would deal with. The information stored in her head and in her notebooks wouldn't solve everything. Wouldn't always help. Things would not be simple but she refused to entertain the notion of failure. She couldn't save everyone, she knew that, but she would damn well try. It wasn't a matter of could she deal or not, it was that she would. With a conviction that dwarfed any power that tried to thwart her. In front of her the principal proceeded to rip her transcripts into four pieces.

"Welcome to Sunnydale." Flutties voice broke through her wayward thoughts, bringing her back to attention.

"A clean slate, Buffy. That's what you get past is the past." Well no actually the past is the future in her case but she felt it was better to not point out that little tid bit. He wouldn't understand anyway.

"We're not interested on what's written on a piece of paper." Any second now he would look at said piece of paper, ripped though it was, and change his tune. Buffy considered, truly considered, if this was something she should change. She knew how this conversation was going to go and she knew she could change it. But why should she? The man wouldn't be wrong but it was still tempting. She was already changing so much, would one conversation make a difference? The fifteen year old part of her head told her that no, it couldn't possibly mater that much. The older part of her, the part of her that had come with the memories warned that changing too many of the little things could undo everything. That Buffy pointed out that she needn't change the conversation, there was no reason to, because the man would die soon enough. So instead of changing the conversation why not change his fate?

"I know my transcripts are a bit...colorful."

And on the conversation went, just like the first time. Or the time before. Despite her conviction she was starting to see how having the memories of how things would or should be going was going to be difficult. Her fifteen year old brain told her not to worry about it, work with what she had in the best way she could. The other Buffy in her head was silent, she supposed that meant she agreed. When she escaped from Bobs increasingly awkward presence she was still in deep thought. So deep, in fact, that she ran into another girl and proceeded to drop her things all over the hallway. In a split-second she realized that this had happened before. She suspected that even if she had been totally prepared and dodged the girl her things would still end up on the floor. Somethings she thought as she began gathering her things, waiting for the inevitable, never change.

A boy's form appeared, crouching, next to her.

"Can I have you?" A voice rushed out.

Xander Buffy felt the whisper in her heart and found herself looking up sharply. He was younger then she had remembered him, forgetting that, technically, she had only just met him. He was handsome in a skater-boy way and cute in a boy-next-door kind of way. Earnest, soulful, brown eyes. Nervous smile, brown, curling hair. Still innocent, still hopeful, and currently smitten.

"Can I help you?" He corrected, immediately. Awkwardly reaching for her things in a vain hope that she hadn't understood him the first time around.

"Thanks." She offered, gratefully. It was so good to see him.

"I don't know you do I?" He questioned, charming in his nervousness.

"I'm Buffy. I'm new."

"Xander." He replied, breathlessly. Eyes widening a fraction he rushed out, "Is me. Hi." Buffy chuckled as she rose, her smile bright, "Nice to meet you Xander."

He looked startled but smiled winningly.

"Maybe I'll see you around." Buffy offered him as she walked away. Ignoring him when he called out to her, stake in hand. She wasn't worried, she'd catch him in the library. He had told her, once, that he had overheard her and Giles in there on the first day of school. A soft snicker escaped her, this time the Scooby Gang would meet up a little bit earlier then before. She hoped it was enough to save Jessie. That was something she would have to try her best to do. Jessie was the main reason that Xander hated vampires so much, his biggest grudge besides jealousy Which is going to go squish as soon as possible.

The rest of the day had followed the same pattern as before. She met Cordelia in class. Beautiful, confidant, powerful. Cordy had been something else even in the beginning, thought the whole snobby rich girl thing was irritating in a way it shouldn't have been. It painted her soon-to-be friend as cruel and uncaring, when Cordelia was anything but. Then again the things that would make the girl realize this hadn't happened yet. Buffy gave her the benefit of the doubt and tried her best to stay on course until Cordelia mentioned the library. Buffy had spent pretty much the entire class considering her options. She could follow Cordelia and meet Willow much as she had Xander later on in the day, or she could decline Cordelias offer and take her to the Library to meet with Giles. Option B sounded better, in more way than one. She could forgive Cordelia her cruelty but to watch that cruelty dealt on Willow would cause her to do something stupid. Fifteen year old Buffy knew it, Memory Buffy knew it and Present Buffy knew it. So when the time came she easily dodged the offer and streaked out of the room, catching Willow just as she began to bend over for a drink over the water fountain.

"Hi?" Buffy offered hopefully. The red-head jerked upward, eyes much like that of a scared rabbit. "Do you want me to move?" Willow questioned much like a doormat would ask Do you want to step on me? This Buffy did not like. Perhaps before The Night she would have ignored that tone, that mild acceptance of worthlessness. Perhaps Memory Buffy would have noted that Willow was down and then proceed to deal with whatever crisis was currently going on, resolving to talk to the girl later. Present Buffy (as she was beginning to refer to herself even as she noted that her current personality was a mesh of the previous two and, thus, much different then both.) smiled instead, offering her soon to be best friend a quite, understanding, look.

"You're Willow, right?" She questioned softly, gently. The voice of a friend who'd been through countless horrors, tragedies, and celebrations with you. Willow slowly found herself smiling back, almost instantly at ease.

"Ya. Hi." She squeaked.

"I'm Buffy. Favor major, Library?" She knew where the library was at, hell she'd been there just this morning and a thousand times before. Willow did not know this, nor would Buffy reveal this. Sometimes a girl's gotta play dirty.

The last rays of the sun were, swiftly, retreating. The sound of a car tearing through the Welcome to Sunnydale sign unnoticed.

He had driven for days it seemed, stopping only to eat. It had been boring without his Dru, who had vehemently refused to come with him. Stating wildly that it wasn't her time or some such nonsense. The girl was a brat but oh how he loved her. So he had made the trip alone, boredom alleviated only by the itch in the back of his mind. The Order of Aurelis, he could feel their call like a flea in his brain. It had surprised him but then someone was always trying to wake 'daddy'. He hadn't let it bother him much, they couldn't sense him, couldn't touch him. Bunch of idiots wouldn't even be worth the time it took to sneer at 'em. He had had the same thoughts when he had run into the lot some fifty years back, the opinion obviously had not changed.

Now sparking a ciggy, flesh steaming slightly as day finally turned into night, he considered the view before him. Nice quite town, quaint, like every other nice quite town but somewhere in there was a Slayer.

"Home sweet home."

Things had been a bit more difficult then she'd thought they'd be but things had manged to work out in the end. More or less. After allowing Willow to take her to the library Buffy had abandoned her in one of the aisles and rushed to Giles. They had chatted amicably enough, hell she'd even manged to throw a little fit just so he could remind her of her duty. At the word Vampire both Willow and Xander had jumped from their hiding places. Giles had stuttered and tried, rather horribly, to explain away what the others had heard and she had managed to convince them that she was just working on something for a writing class her mother insisted she take. They didn't buy it, but they wanted to. The result was that now she was hanging with both Willow and Xander at The Bronze. Giles had opted on staying at the Library, excusing himself from the idiocy that was teen. The poor man had been flustered. Thankfully Willow and Xander didn't believe her, she knew that, but Xander had a crush and Willow was beginning to feel the pull of friendship and acceptance. Both happily swallowed the lies in favor of a truth they wouldn't be ready to handle for a few more days. She had been dancing carelessly with the two, a rather surprised Jessie dancing with them just as carelessly. Buffy was determined to keep the boy close to Xander and Willow, he was safer with them. She was just getting into it when she felt it, a weight crashing over her. She didn't stop, didn't hesitate, kept right on dancing but now her eyes were scanning the crowd.

She had felt this before, she knew who it was.

He's early She thought, frowning. A flash of impossible blond to her left caught her attention and she watched him with hooded eyes as he prowled through the bodies, his blue eyes focused on her with predatory intent. Catching his gaze she smiled wickedly at him (Ok maybe it had been more like a stare. The stare a fat man gave a piece of their favorite chocolate), going so far as to give him an encouraging wink. Keep him on his toes, keep him guessing. Was all Buffy could think. She wanted to run to him, wanted to hold herself close to his strong frame, wanted to kiss him senseless with the feelings that poured over her. Made her knees weak. He'd kill her in a second. It hurt, that knowledge hurt, but she had known hadn't she? That he would have to try to end her before he could ever begin loving her. What had she done to prompt this? He was a year early, she hadn't prepared herself for the sight of him. Memory Buffy had taken over and made it plain that she had to keep him interested. She'd have to entice him, surprise him, keep him close enough to allow him to fall in love with her. She already loved him. She had loved him from the moment she had heard his voice through the endless stream of memory. It didn't matter that right now he wanted her dead, or that he wasn't suppose to be here yet. Didn't matter that she would have to wait years before he would be hers or that she wasn't entirely sure how they had begun, the details fuzzy in her mind as they had been from the beginning. She wasn't a patient girl, never had been, but she found being patient wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. He would be worth the wait.

He had stopped, confusion evident in eyes that traced every part of her. Her breath caught but she made herself push past it. Raising a questioning eyebrow at him. He glowered, frowned, and disappeared. Sighing Buffy turned back to her friends. She felt alone, empty. His sudden appearance and disappearance had made her ache for him stronger by a thousandfold. It was like being touched by the sun for a moment before the rain clouds shadowed its warmth. It hurt. Suddenly feeling sick she excused herself, stressing that she just needed some fresh air. Her friends let her go, worry etched in their gazes but they let her go. The moment she was out of sight she glanced down at her watch. Shit. Angel.

God she soooo didn't want to talk to Angel. She wanted to go find Spike. Now. Unfortunately saner heads prevailed. With a frustrated growl she dashed away towards the alleyway, beyond glad that she hadn't yet changed from her school outfit. The jeans were stretchy, giving her good movement, and while the shirt wouldn't protect her in any way it also didn't hinder her, the shoes could've been better but she'd fought enough times in heels now to expertly navigate them. She slowed when she sensed him near. Stopped for a moment, glancing around in nervous apprehension. She considered how she had dealt with this before, so not of the good. He had made fun of her, charmed her, confused her even when he'd been flat on his back and at her mercy. He would be arrogant, sure, confidant. The knowledge what this creature would do to her life made her see red. She had precious few seconds to control herself and act before he'd be upon her. It wasn't his fault, he hadn't known. But he had abandoned her, again and again. Memory Buffy had accepted it, had tried to live up to what he wanted for her. She had done everything in her power to make him want her again. Fifteen years old Buffy knew he was handsome but that flash of blond, those blue eyes, the wicked smile. She was crushing major on the evil vamp. She wondered if she would have chosen Angel is she had seen Spike first. Even if I didn't have the memories she thought, confidence making her decision, I would've chosen Spike. Buffy moved, body leaning against the left wall. She stilled, her body coiled to strike but her guard oddly relaxed. Her eyes daring.

The girl was...odd.

Yes that was the word. Odd, strange in the head, out of her bloomin' mind. She had stopped, panic as obvious as her inexperience. She hadn't looked like the Slayer. She had looked like a deer in the headlights. Then something happened. She didn't look the part of a fifteen year old cheerleader anymore. She had straightened her shoulders and stretched herself against the left wall, muscles quivering in anticipation. Her jeans like a second skin, cupping and ass that would fit perfect in his hands, her bare back dipped at the waist, her shirt scooped in the front but tight enough the show a flat stomach and the gentle rise of full breasts. She stilled, like a lion smelling fresh meat. She looked like a Slayer. She looked like the Slayer. He back-tracked.

It hadn't taken him long to find the girl. Her power was a breath of fresh air. She was a new Slayer, hadn't yet been tainted by years of battle. He had followed that power to The Bronze, he had snickered at the name. It suit his sense of humor. He had spied her in the crowd, dancing with the masses. It was strange. The other Slayers had been loners by nature, they'd shunned human interactions in an effort to protect others thus isolating themselves. He was surprised at how young she was. Kid couldn't be older than fourteen? Fifteen? He'd never killed a Slayer that young before. He almost felt disappointed, it wouldn't be a battle with death it would be a slaughter. The poor kid didn't stand a chance. He hadn't realized how hard he was staring at her when she turned her eyes on him. He'd been startled by the green jewels in her hazel eyes and by the heat behind them. A slow, tempting smile had stretched across her face and her eyes had scanned him like he was her favorite treat. His body hardened painfully, thinking that maybe pretty little cheerleader over there was inviting more trouble than she could possibly know what to do with. He'd retracted that thought when she sent a playful wink his way. She knew the game but did she know what he was. Part of him suspected she did. He'd been dragged away when a connection in his mind, long unused, sparked to life.

The curiosity of feeling Angelus nearby had prompted him to leave, to find a better vantage point. The girl had followed close behind him, apparently not so untrained if she could sense a master. Which had brought him here, perched above the alleyway. Front row to what, suddenly, appeared to be an amusing show.

He appeared out of the shadows like the fog. Slow, rolling, never really stepping more like gliding. It was very dramatic and, objectively, she understood how she could have fallen for him. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. His eyes were hooded, deep, searching. His face was beautiful, pained, and part of her wanted nothing more than to wipe that pain away. It was that sadness that hung over him, that air of power, those soulful eyes...The hot bod. Oh her heart fluttered. He was good enough to eat but...Not what she wanted. His mystery already seemed tiring, his cryptic entrance too dramatic. Add that to her memories and, overall, she barely felt a spark. Nothing like when she had spied Spike through the crowd. His red shirt had been a little loose but memory fueled her imagination. His stomach was cut, she remembered tracing her fingers down his abs, feeling him tremble at her touch. She remembered the look in his eyes when she rode him. She remembered the feel of him, hot and hard inside her. His weight bearing down against her, clutching against him painfully. His arms, lean and muscular, holding her as the pace increased. His mouth nipping at her breasts. Heat pooled in her stomach. In contrast Angel had been hesitant, careful, as if she were some fragile doll. Spike had pushed her as hard as he could knowing she could take it, Angel had refused to acknowledge her strength.

"Hey." She said brightly, surprising him. The startled look in his eyes was endearing. It made her chuckle, "Don't worry. I don't bite." The words were sultry but her eyes had focused on a point behind him. She had caught that flash of white, she had felt him near. She heard Angel take a step and she snapped to attention.

"Huh? Well I thought you'd be taller, bigger muscles and all that."

"I'm pretty spry though." Buffy finished, recounting this meeting from her dreams. Angel stalked closer, his smile charming. Buffy pushed against the wall, flashing towards him so fast the older vamp didn't know what hit him. She was hanging off his back, one hand clawing into his shoulder, the other holding the point of her stake against him. Pressing down with enough pressure for him to know that if she applied even a little bit more that point would rip through him all the way to the heart.

"What do you want?" She half snarled.

Angel stilled, no part of him moving save for the cautious turn of his head as he glanced at her.

"The same thing you do." He stated firmly, beseechingly.

"And what do I want?" She queried, when had Angel ever wanted what she wanted?

"To kill 'em. To kill 'em all."

Buffy hushed and pushed against him with all her strength, using the momentum to flip herself in the air to her feet as he went sprawling against the concrete.

"Sorry that's incorrect but you do get this watch and a years supply of beeswax." Her voice was flippant, uncaring.

"This isn't a game." Angel whispered as he stood. She stilled him with a word.

"Angelus." Confusion and dread tore through him because how could she know who he was? How when he had been trying for a century to forget what he'd been.

"Angel." He corrected.

"Angel." Buffy agreed easily, "Stalker much? Look I already know about the Harvest, thanks for the warning but hey Slayer here. I think I know what i'm doing. Also a bit much with the drama don't ya think? I mean you couldn't just go in the bar and say Oh Hey Slayer gotta talk, gotta save the world? Nope you come out at me in an alleyway." She gestured at their surroundings, "In the dark, creeping up from behind me. So not of the cool. We're in the Hellmouth you're lucky not to be dust." With that she promptly turned away. Oh she'd see Angel again, the man was stubborn when it came with what she could or could not do but it had been so satisfying to see that look on his face. She'd deal with the repercussions of this later, she was sure, and she'd have to let Angel join the Scooby gang for a time. Long enough for him to understand that she would never be his, long enough to keep Spike guessing. She had him, she knew she did. He wouldn't be able to resist her now. He was probably just as shell shocked as Angel was. Though she wouldn't be surprised if he was laughing his ass off too.

After all how many people told off Angelus?

CailinRua- Ya that scene was something I almost wished had happened in the show. Just because well...It's Giles. Enough said. I appreciate that you find my writing and premise unique. Hope you keep on reading I'm just getting started.

FanficFemale- You were right about Spike. I had considered keeping him out of the picture for a few more chapters but this seemed more interesting. That and I just don't like Angel.