"Buffy!"

The blonde girl heaved another box into place, and paused to brush some sweat-soaked hair off of her forehead. "Yeah mom?" she called back, leaning against the stack of boxes.

"I need your help with the books. Can you come down here?"

"Sure, mom!" Buffy straightened and headed out of the room. She had to squeeze her way around two stacks of boxes. "Ugh, I didn't think I had this much stuff before!" she complained as she headed down the steps to where her mother waited by a large box.

"And all of it's clothes." her mother replied, smiling. "Imagine that."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Come on, lets get this box into the living room."

The two women bent and picked it up, groaning under the weight. "God, mom, what did you pack in this? Bricks?" Buffy panted out as they staggered into the living room, past the couch, and towards the bookshelves.

"Books, Buffy."

"Yeah, right." They finally reached the shelves, and set the box down. "Why did we have to move anyway? Dad has his own mansion, he didn't need our little house." Buffy grumbled.

A look of sadness crossed her mother's face. "You know why, Buffy."

"Yeah, yeah, the school." Buffy mumbled, looking down. The afternoon didn't seem so clear and sunny any more. Amazing what losing all of your friends does to you. she thought cynically.

Seeing her daughter's expression, her mother quickly added "And besides, we can start fresh here. Sunnydale's a nice little town. I hear they're going to have a mall finished soon. Sometime next year, I think. And there's no smog..."

"Right." Buffy smiled "Well, I'm going to go finish moving all of my boxes into my room. Then I can unpack them." She started to leave the room, then turned around. "You're sure I can't skip school tomorrow to unpack?" she pleaded.

"No, Buffy, the new semester begins tomorrow." her mother said, bending down to rip the tape off of the box of books. "Besides, you'll have all of after school."

"Oh joy." the blonde muttered, and left the room.

Night fell over Sunnydale. All over the small town, teenagers headed for the clubs, the coffeehouses, and friends houses.

And the vampires came out to hunt.

One particular vampire was in Restwood Cemetary. But unlike the rest of the vampires, he wasn't looking for human prey.

Ironic. Angel thought bitterly as he strode through the graveyard, searching for others of his kind. A vampire in a graveyard. Too bad I can't stay here... He ruthlessly shoved the thought aside. One hundred years of living the constant guilt of his existence as a soulless monster, and now he walked the night as a souled monster.

I haven't got much to live for. He heard a sound and turned, watching the shadows warily. Except the possibility of redemption. And that's not too likely...

"Angelus..." He tensed as the familiar sing-song voice spoke his name, then turned to face his Sire as she stepped out of the shadows of a tomb.

"You're losing your touch, Angelus." Darla said, smiling slightly.

"What do you want, Darla?" he demanded, standing still as she approached him, lifting one hand to carress his face. Annoyed, he batted it away. She frowned.

"So harsh..." she murmured. "Is that any way to treat your Sire? Or your lover?"

"You're not my lover. Not any more."

"Oh, Angelus, Angelus." She shook her head. "What are you doing? Why are you hunting your own kind? Killing your own race, your own kin?"

"Because I'm not like you." he snarled, fighting down the urge to rip her throat out. "I won't let you or the Master destroy this town."

Darla's eyes went cold. "Your own grandsire." she said. "You would dare raise your hand against the Master?" For an instant, he could see the demon barely covered by the human facade roil in her eyes. Tinges of yellow glowed in the brown eyes of his Sire, and the energy crackled between them. His own demon snarled within him, coiling through his mind and heart like a snake, struggling to crush him, to make him crush, promising violence or sex...

"Yes." he said finally, and the single word pierced the tense atmosphere.

She laughed. "How noble of you. I didn't think you were suicidal, Angelus."

"Stop calling me that. My name is Angel." he snarled. The demon roared, feeling the weakness, the anger... He fought to get his temper under control. "I'm not your lover, I'm not your friend, I'm not your ally, Darla. Fight your own battles."

She regarded him silently for a few moments, then smiled. "We shall see." Turning, she retreated into the shadows, leaving him to stare after her.