The next morning found Buffy driving up the coast to Sunnydale, half an hour from Los Angeles. Buffy stopped her 1942 Chrysler at the cast iron gates which guarded the driveway to the estate. She waited for someone to come open the gates-this seemed the kind of place that would have a person to do that-but after a minute, she shrugged and did it herself.

Parking in front of the imposing gray house, she got out of the car, took a good look, and gaped. "Oh my God..." her voice trailed off as her eyes traced the gargoyles that leered from the corners of the roof. The roof rose at a sharp angle, to what Buffy assumed was a large, flat space beyond her sight.

The whole house-or rather mansion-was made of gray stone, in a Gothic revival style that stopped just past overdone. Four towers were set at each compass point of the three-story mansion, with tall, pointy roofs that looked a bit like very strange hats. Buffy could pick out a tiny balcony on the third floor, facing her, and thought that she could see another one on the left side.

"Buffy, you made it!"

Buffy stopped gaping at Sunnydale as Angel came down the set of wide, shallow steps that led to the front door. He was smiling and Buffy felt her heartbeat speed up as he came towards her. So much for hoping that her reaction to him was just a temporary thing. He was wearing black pants and jacket with a white shirt-no tie-and Buffy couldn't help thinking how good he looked.

Breathing deeply to cover the adrenaline rush that almost made her forget the house, she told him "Of course I made it." Looking up at the house again, she remarked "I see why you made that comment about your father's sense of humor."

Angel looked up at his house and studied it, seeing it all over again through her eyes. "Sorry, I meant to warn you. This place can be pretty intimidating if you're not used to it."

"Intimidating?" Buffy asked, arching her eyebrows. "This place looks like Dracula's summer home, and your father called it Sunnydale?"

"Like I said, Father had a strange sense of humor" Angel told her with a disarming smile as he led her up to the front door. Buffy looked at the knocker, a big brass affair that looked as if it weighed as much as the door. A gargoyle to match the stone ones on the roof leered at her, and she was rather relieved that she didn't have to touch the ring that hung from it's claws. The door was oak, carved with intricate patterns and at least six and a half feet tall.

"You grew up here, right?" she asked.

"Yes, but then you knew that, didn't you? I'd guess you know a lot more about me than that" at Buffy's innocent look, Angel grinned and opened the door as he told her "you must have checked me out yesterday, if only to find out more about Sunnydale."

Buffy ignored the grin-though it made her stomach turn over-and added, "After growing up here, I'm surprised that you don't walk around in a black cape and fangs."

"Funny you should say that" Angel said as a tall man came towards them "Drusilla, Spike and I dress up as vampires every Halloween."

"Spike?" Buffy asked blankly.

"My younger brother, William."

"How'd he get a nickname like Spike?" Buffy asked, sensing a story.

"Lost in the annuals of Roarke family history, I'm afraid," the stranger said in a British accent. "May I take your coat, Miss?"

Buffy looked at the man as she slid off her coat and handed it to him. Tall and thin, he had kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses and fair hair. Though he was dressed in a butler's traditional tie and tails, he exuded an air of ease with his surroundings, which belied a role of simple hired hand.

"Buffy Summers, Rupert Giles. Miss Summers is the expert I hired to assess the art collection. Buffy, Giles has been the butler here since before I was born-"

"Then I suggest you let me butle," Giles told him in slightly frosty tones. "The last time I checked, greeting guests was part of my job."

Buffy hid a smile as Angel actually looked abashed, then after flicking a look at her, told Giles "I'm just going to show Miss Summers the library, then give her a tour of the house."

"Very well, Sir" Giles said. The words were agreeable, but Buffy could tell from the tone that Giles and Angel would be having a long talk later. Hiding another grin, she followed Angel as he gestured to the first doorway on the left.

"This is the dining room, opposite" and he pointed to the doorway on the right "is the kitchen." As they stopped at the second doorway on the left, he turned her around to face back into the hall, and pointed out the other doorways. The second doorway on the right was identified as the family room. The third doorway on the left, which Buffy could see opened to face the side of the grand staircase leading to the next floor, was identified as the music room.

As Angel opened the door and waved her inside, he added, "It's small and isn't used much, we keep the wireless and records in the family room. There's a corresponding door on the other side of the stairs-you can't see it from here-which leads to the conservatory. My study is on the second floor, so are all the bedrooms. The few live in staff sleep on the third floor, next to the attic."

"How many people actually live here?" Buffy asked, taking mental notes as Angel shut the library door behind them.

"The family, of course, as well as the Maria the cook and Nicholas the chauffeur. I don't like a lot of people wandering around my house, so most of the staff come in twice a week. The extra privacy more than makes up for a little dust" Angel said with a smile.

Buffy looked at him and asked, "What about Giles? You didn't mention where he sleeps."

"The second floor."

"He's considered part of the family, then?"

"Oh, yes. Giles' grandmother was my grandfather's nanny, and his father was the butler at my grandfather's house in Boston. Giles came to Sunnydale with my parents when they were first married; he helped raise William and I after my mother died."

"When was that?" Buffy asked, trying to get a sense of the history here. From what Angel was saying, Giles more than qualified as an insider.

"I was eight, William was three. My father wasn't much one for staying home with the children; I'm still faintly surprised that he agreed to take in Drusilla."

"She's your what-second cousin?" Buffy asked.

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