"Stay right there, honey," Joyce Summers told her 6 year old daughter, Buffy. "Mommy’s going to take a look in this art shop and you can bring in your food," she said, motioning to the little girl's chocolate-swirl ice cream cone. They were in Manhattan for an art convention they had attended earlier that day. Now it was evening, and Joyce still wanted to look at some of the pieces they had featured, so they had stopped at this store.

"Okay, Mommy," Buffy replied, parking herself on the bench near the entrance. Her mom walked into the store. Buffy watched all the cars speed by as she licked her cone contentedly. Soon, she was finished, and her mom was still inside. The sight of a strange man caught her eye, and she stood up. She remembered her mom's words, but still she ventured forward. She was drawn to him in a way her young mind did not understand.

She headed towards the dark alley he had disappeared to and saw him kick a garbage can out of his path.

Angel was hungry, and the mice were becoming harder to catch, because of the colder weather. He hated winter. His body stiffened as he sensed a strange, but warm presence watching him. He slowly turned around, not knowing what to expect. Their eyes met--guilt connected with innocence.

Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat. Angel felt all his muscles tense. He had never felt this way before, except… once he had been in the presence of a slayer, could she be… maybe in the future.

Buffy wasn’t frightened, she never was. She stared up at the man. Ragged clothes, wild hair, brooding eyes, but very handsome. She was old enough to know that.

Angel took in her appearance small, beautiful, with icy blue eyes, and brown hair. She was wearing jean overalls with a white shirt. Her hair was in a cute ponytail, and she looked, well, tough. She stood with her hands on her hips with eyebrows raised.

Buffy let out her breath and shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts. She knew this man! She had dreamt about him. He was safe, she knew.

Angel knew this girl, he had dreamt about her, about helping her. He let his body relax and turned away from her penetrating stare.

"Who are you?" she asked. He was surprised that her voice was so small, but then he reminded himself she was just a child.

"It’s none of your business. Leave me alone," he said harshly.

Using her best "Joan Collins ‘tude," Buffy shot back, "What if I make it my business?"

He spun around, only to find she had stepped closer and was now only an arm's-length away. She stared up at him innocently. He couldn’t help it, he laughed. Angry, Buffy delivered a sharp kick with all her strength to him in the leg. That shut him up. He doubled down to grab his leg, as she prepared for another kick. Before she could deliver it, he grabbed her under the arms and picked her up, holding her far away from him.

She was swung her legs so hard, he nearly missed getting hit in the face. She squirmed, but didn’t scream. Finally she stopped, and just hung there. He attempted to bring her towards him, and she remained still. He settled her on his hip and she clung close to him.

He was a little surprised. Every other child he had ran across in the last 90 years had run away in terror, and now this girl was cuddling against him. Not knowing quite what to do, he stroked her hair.

Buffy was tired, and this stranger was the closest thing to lean on. Soon, she was almost asleep.

"Where’s your mom?" he asked her gently.

"At the store. Looking at pictures," she replied sleepily. Pictures? He looked around for a store that might have pictures. He spied the art store a few doors down.

"Does she know you're gone?"

"No. She told me to stay on the bench."

He made sure no one was paying attention, then he quickly made his way over to the bench. He gently laid her down. Still watching her, he backed away towards the alley again. He made sure that her mom found her all right, then turned away.

Buffy awoke when Joyce gently shook her. "I’m sorry I was late honey. Come on, let’s go find Daddy at the hotel."

"Ok, Mommy." They headed back to the hotel. As they passed by the alley, Buffy stopped, and looked for the stranger, but he was gone.

"Come on, honey, let’s go."

Slowly, she went with her mom.

From across the street, Angel watched the scene with a bit of sadness. He liked that little girl, and now he would never see her again. Or so he thought.

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