*****

Once upon a time there was a young lad named Xander who lived in the village of Sunnydale....

One night Xander was drawing a bucket of water from the town well located in the middle of the village. He was just about to head home, when a stranger dressed in black leather rode up. Backing quickly away from the huge horse, Xander tripped over a loose cobblestone and fell, the bucket of water spilling on him.

The stranger, noticing what happened, reined his horse in and dropped down off of it. Leaning over the boy, he noticed how nicely muscled the lad was, thanks to the now sopping wet shirt he was wearing. Reaching out, he grabbed the boy's outstretched hand and pulled him up. "Are you okay? Here, let me help you get another bucket of water. It's the least I can do."

Xander looked up at the tall stranger, "I'm fine." He stared at the man, still reeling from the feelings he experienced when he had grasped the man's hand.

He watched as the man bent to pick up the bucket, his tight pants stretching even more, emphasizing his... well everything. Not wanting to get caught staring at the ...everything... Xander quickly raised his eyes as the man straightened. "You don't have to. It's okay, I can get it." He reached for the bucket, but the man held it away.

"What's your name boy?"

"Xander."

Placing the bucket on the ground and taking a step towards Xander, the man reached out and ran a finger along Xander's cheek. Then cupped the back of his neck and drew Xander towards him. "I am Angelus, of the house Jerrald."

Xander, startled at finding out that *this* stranger was a member of the House of Jerrald, did... absolutely nothing.

Recognizing the stunned awe, as his due, he stepped even closer to the boy until they were chest to chest. Looking down into beautiful chocolate brown eyes, Angelus realized that he had found the one. The one man in the entire kingdom that he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Many times during his youth, he had been told of how he would meet the person that would be his destiny. But he thought that to merely be a fairytale, thought up by his overly romantic grandmother Jerrald.

But here he was, at a well, in the night, with his destiny.

~fin~