Love Of The Past

Author: Angel

Summary: Everyone has a past...even if it's one that's so far back that we don't remember it. But what happens when the past of Buffy Summers, the gorgeous, glamorous President's daughter, comes back to find her? Especially when that past arrives in the shape of a mysterious stranger?...

Rating: PG-13...for now. It'll get smutty later though, so be careful if you're not of age.

Disclaimer: Please note that these characters do not belong to me, except where noted. These ideas are my own, though they have been fueled by the brilliant ideas of author fanfic authors. Characters used in this story belong to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy, the WB, and whoever else created the television shows Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel.

Lyrics: "Tomorrow" By Lillix

Feedback: Please let me know what you think! angelattitude@hotmail.com

AN: **I'm not too sure about the title of this story. I may change it. I've never had trouble naming my fics, until now. Wonder what the Hell is wrong with me.**

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Part 1


Why is it that some people just cannot commit? Is it something in their DNA that frightens them away at the first thought of words like 'marriage' or 'love', or phrases like 'mini van' or 'long haul'? Or is it something that happens to them at a young age that turns them off from commitment altogether? Like the loss of a loved one, a parents divorce, or the death of a pet frog?

No, I think that there must be another reason. I think this because alas, I must admit to being one of those people that can not sit still in a date long enough to take it to a second.

All my life, I've been searching for True Love. But of course, when you look for something…you can't find it. Like when you lose your phone. The last place you'd think to look for it, is in the dirty pile of clothes under your bed. But that's where it is. I think that general idea, applies to love as well. When you look for it, it's not there. But that doesn't mean you're not meant to be loved.

It just means that you're looking in the wrong places.

Take, for example, my two, very best friends in the entire world. Willow and Anya.

Anya thought that she needed marriage from a rich, worldly man that could keep her in Gucci and diamonds until death do they part.

Willow wanted just the opposite: a simple man with no dreams of mansions, that could be certain to stay with her to the end of eternity simply because he thought she was wonderful.

I find it rather amusing; that what they got, was exactly what the other had wished for. Willow met and married a rich, worldly, affectionate gentleman named Oz. Anya met an old friend of Willow and I's from high school. Xander. A simple construction worker that worshipped the very ground that she walked on…Quite literally, actually.

So with two shining examples of how looking for love in a particular type doesn't work-I tried a new approach. I attempted to love the men that I wouldn't usually love. Or at least date them in the hopes that I could one day feel the rush of love pumping through my veins.

This brilliant plan, is what resulted in three of the most incredibly awkward two weeks of my life. In total, I went on five different dates. Each one, was more off-putting then the last one had been.

First, there was Ford.

DATE 1 : Ford - Family Friend

I met Ford through an old friend of the family, at a small get-together at my parents' home in Washington, DC. When I say 'small', I mean there were only about five hundred caterers and two hundred guests. My parents are the strangest people in the world, I assure you. This could be mostly because my father, is the President of the United States, which makes my life even more difficult. Being the equivalent of a 'princess' doesn't make it easy to meet guys, so there stands another block in my road to True Love. But back to my date…

Ford seemed kind enough. With short brown hair, a simple un-molded shape, and a flare for little facts that no one else on this side of the nine gates of Hell would care to know; he seemed interesting. I agreed to a dinner date under the critical eye of Ford's mother, Lena. I swear I heard little alarms go off in her head as I accepted the dinner invitation.

The date began fine enough, but ended in disaster. We went to a beautiful restaurant on Rodeo Drive. We talked about school: He's attending NYU in the Fall, I'll be in a local college in Los Angeles - "searching for myself". Conversation began to flow rather simply.

And then he started to cry.

Well, sob uncontrollably - probably describes it a little better. Through the muffled cries, and apologies to other diners, I managed to hear him say the words, "Amy…Loved her…Perfect…Love…Soul mates…dumped for new boy toy."

That was pretty much my cue to ask the hostess for the bill.

~~

So after that date flopped, I found myself even more determined to find the perfect man in the most unlikely place. Sure, Ford might have been a great guy underneath the used tissues…But who really wants to listen to a man go on and on about another woman?

I for one, do not. I don't want to be Transition Girl : The one that helps him Move On.

So I took the second date offered to me. This was from a friend of a co-worker. His name was Ben. He was fairly cute. He was a doctor. Enough said, right? Smart. Successful. Determined. Confident. Rich. Charming…

Did I mention insane?

DATE 2 : Ben - Doctor

"I'm sorry," interrupted Ben as I finished ordering my dinner. He held up a hand to the hostess. "Just a minute," he smiled at her. "Buffy…" he began with a frown, "did you just order beef?"

I sighed. Just my luck that the one cute doctor in the world, is a tweed wearing, tree hugging, Green Peace-joining, health-obsessing, crazy vegetarian.

Please kill me now.

~~

So that was my date with Ben.

I stuck to my guns though. I was sure that everything would pay off in the end, and that I could look back on this one day when I was in love; and laugh. So the next date came from Scott.

I met Scott at a coffee shop one morning, as I was running late to work. I turned abruptly to leave, and bumped right in to him; successfully dumping my low-fat cappuccino all over the front of my white blouse. He'd offered to buy me another one, and I'd growled out a 'no, thank you.'

Then he'd offered to buy me dinner. At this point, I actually looked at him. Smiling, I couldn't resist the offer. After all, I was on a dating mission.

DATE 3 : Scott - Face Rape

The date itself went along just fine. It was rather uneventful and it wasn't very mentally stimulating, but all in all I rated it the best one so far.

Scott was a gentleman in every manner. He was in school, going through a Business Management course. He did look rather cute when I asked him what he wanted to do. All he did, was shrug his shoulders and smile at me while tilting his head to the side ever-so-slightly. Like a little puppy dog.

After dinner, we went for a walk by the moonlight, and then Scott drove me home. Walking me to my door, I knew he was going to try to kiss me. Shrugging inwardly, I decided to give it a try. He was nice enough, so I was curious to see if we had physical chemistry.

That's when I got 'face-raped'-as Anya calls it. A face-rape is when a guy totally harasses your face with his mouth and his tongue. So as he made out with my tonsils, I frowned and couldn't seem to help wondering what would ever possess me to accept this date invitation.

After what was surely the worst kiss of my life, I smiled as much as I could while trying not to cringe at the little smirk on his face. It seems that Scott doesn't know just how bad of a kisser he really is.

Before I could say 'goodnight', and run away-he decided to come in for another session of insanity! Quick thinking made me hold a finger to his lips and say in a mock-disappointed voice, "I can't, Scott. Even though I want to. God…is every where." My eyes darted to the sky to prove my point and pray that he believed me.

~~

And that, was my date with Scott.

For some reason, I agreed to another date. This one, was so incredibly stupid. Even as I said 'yes'…I knew it was going to be horrible. First of all, I'd met the guy through Willow. Enough said, right? Secondly…His name was Riley Finn.

DATE 4 : Riley - Dog/Fish Boy

Riley? Isn't that a dog's name?

Finn? Isn't that part of a fish?

So it didn't really surprise me that he took me to a zoo. It was cute enough to watch little otters swim, and feed the deer with those tiny pellets…But who actually does this any more for a first date? Second or third would be awesome! But a first date? Maybe if we were twelve…

Walking through the long cement walkways around cages of animals that had lost all of their nature due to the fact that they had been raised in captivity; I gazed up at the sun. This is when he said it. He said it! I can't believe he actually said it. And to me! Who would actually say something like that?

He said…

"You'd look so great on my family farm."

~~

Anya insisted that she would have better luck with finding me someone suitable. So she set me up with someone she once knew in university. She didn't tell me what he was studying in university, but I got the impression from the way that her eyes darted around….That this was going to be interesting…

And awful.

DATE 5 : Spike - Need I Say More?

Spike.

My date was with a man named Spike. He was a wall street broker. His name was Spike. He liked cars, money, and beautiful women. His name was Spike.

Can I just skip explaining this one?

The date was horrible. He talked about himself, his money, and my ass. Then he started talking about the asses of the women around us-including the ass of our hostess Anne, who he slipped his number to on the bill when we finally went to leave.

Then he asked to come up to my apartment. With the offer of a hot oil massage, how could I refuse?

Quite easily.

His name was Spike…Yuck.

~~

By now, I'd pretty much lost all hope. I mean…A vegetarian? A face rapist? A farmer? Spike? And a woman trapped in a man's body? Let's safely put this experiment aside. If love wants me, it can come and get me. But I'm done with looking for it…Even if I am being so creative as to look where I wouldn't usually peak.

Feeling totally left-out of the love circle, I called Willow and Anya for a Girlie Day. Hitting the mall with our Starbucks espresso…We began our day.

"Come on, Buffy!" Anya sighed. "You've got to have liked at least ONE of the guys you dated! Even a little bit? Didn't you think Spike was cute?"

"He looked like Billy Idol," I said after gulping down a mouthful of my caramel Frappucino. "He slipped our hostess his number, and then he asked me if I had any handcuffs and lubricant for a night of hot sex."

"I would have said yes," Anya said bluntly.

"I think he wanted the hot sex to be with Anne," I grumbled.

"Who the Hell is Anne?" Anya exclaimed, holding her hands out in frustrated exclamation.

"The hostess," Willow filled in.

"Oh," Anya took that and considered it for a moment. After a few moments, she shrugged and said simply, "lucky girl. She probably had a blast."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm done, guys. No more random dating just for the sake of looking at the unlookable. I'm done with it. I'll just wait around until I'm thirty, and if I haven't found a single moment of love by then…I hear they're accepting applications for the convent. I mean, I DO look killer in black."

"I thought you had to be an innocent for the convent," Anya frowned.

"You do," I answered simply.

"Woah! Woah! Woah!" Anya reached a hand to my arm, stopping our walk and turning to look at me. "Wait a second. I thought you felt a second of love on the night of your eighteenth birthday!"

Looking away, I shook my head as a low blush crept to my cheeks.

"But you said you fooled around!" she shrieked. "I thought you were talking about…you know? The 'fooling around' type of fooling around," she raised an eyebrow to indicate what she meant. "Weren't you?"

I shook my head. "No. We're talking about just…fooling around."

"You're kidding me! You're a virgin!"

At this, everyone within twenty feet turned and looked at me. I groaned. "Thank you, Anya. I think the mall needed to know that."

"I just can't believe it. I thought for sure, that Bryce would have gotten the job done," she shook her head in utter disbelief as we started to walk again.

"I thought Bryce was unemployed," Willow furrowed her brow in confusion.

I looked at her and smiled. Putting my arm around her waist, I said, "I know you do, Will. That's why I love you so much."

"Can't believe you're a virgin," Anya said with a laugh as we continued our stroll.

~~

So finally, I made a decision. I'd drop the crazy-mad dating. Other then that, I had no plan, and once again I found myself gazing into the mirror, wondering why on earth I was still single at the age of 23.

As I was wondering, I received a phone call from my father's assistant, bidding me to come home for a few weeks since it was now summer break, to attend an array of public appearances, charity events, and other things that the President's Daughter would be seen at.

Naturally, this meant I'd be all over the papers again. Joy for me…Not. To minimize the bore somewhat, I took Willow and Anya with me. At least they'd have fun escaping their husbands for a while.

It was weird to be back in the White House, sleeping in my old room. Granted it was awesome because I was treated like royalty, but it just felt weird. Like I was back and I hadn't changed. I'd left Washington so that I COULD change, but here I was; back again, and still the same. I still had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do, who I wanted to be, and more importantly…Who I wanted to love. Some of you are probably saying to yourself, "She's only 23! She has a lot of learning left to do before she gets married!" And I know that's probably true, but I feel differently. I feel like I have a purpose in the form of a person, and that if I want to find myself - I have to find this person.

~~

"Buffy!" My father exclaimed, looking up from his desk as I wandered in through the doors of the Oval Office. He got out of his chair and came over to me to give me a long hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How's my beautiful daughter?"

"She's alive," I said half-heartedly, attempting a smile on his behalf. Willow and Anya came in behind me and greeted my father with big smiles, exchanging hugs with the man that was almost their second father as well. We'd spent so much time together that it was as if the President had three daughters instead of one. He even sponsored our shopping adventures from time to time.

"Well ladies, what are your plans for the day?" My father asked, returning to his oversized chair behind the desk.

"We were thinking we'd play 'tourists' for a while and visit the sites for the millionth time," Willow smiled. "Maybe hit a spa for the afternoon before the dinner tonight."

"Ah yes," my father smiled, "The Policeman's Charity Dinner. Should be quite good. As I hear it, there should be some fabulous entertainment and dancing afterwards in the ballroom. Have you ladies found gowns yet?"

"I was hoping my Fairy Godmother would take care of that," I mumbled, dreading an evening of smiling through an uncomfortable corset-style evening dress.

"Why don't you head out looking for suitable attire then?" My father said. "Buffy, I believe your mother has made arrangements for hair and whatnot at…" He looked down at a piece of paper and read off, "Miss Dalton's Day Spa and Salon, at 4. You can shop until then. How does that sound?"

"Why couldn't my daddy be President?" Anya pouted, then smiled. "Sounds good, Mr. Summers." As friend, Anya and Willow could call my dad Mr. Summers instead of Mr. President. I was still able to call him Dad, though that right would undoubtedly be taken away soon by my father's bitchy publicist, Cordelia, that wanted to give him a more 'mature' appearance, and 'minimize' his fatherly tendencies.

Dear Lord I hate that woman.

She's always dancing around the office in ugly, closed-toe high heels and tight, skirt and jacket business suits that make her look like a prostitute playing dress-up for her client. But my father insists that she looks incredible professional. Especially with her hair pulled back into a tight bun, and those small reading glasses that I doubt she even actually needs.

Ok, this could be jealousy over the fact that she knows my father better than I do, talking. I admit that with no shame. But still, I'm sure that jealousy aside - I still wouldn't like that woman.

~~

Shopping was rather uneventful. We wound up at Gucci, trying on the latest designer trends that some women only dreamed of being in the same room as.

**Tomorrow's just another day, Another way to spend my day, all by myself. Staring at the TV screen, flipping through my magazine, Everything is unclear…I need you here.**

"Will?" I asked as I modeled a pink chiffon gown with thin straps and a tight top. "Is this how you imagined your life? Married, maybe having kids one day, and taking occasional flights away from your husband for a few weeks? I mean…Is this all you dreamed of?"

"I guess I tossed 'love' in there, but basically…Yeah," she came out of her dressing room in a baby blue, strapless design with a long slit up the left side. "I never really planned things too well. Maybe I should have."

Anya came out in a red halter-style dress that clung to her gracious curves. With her blonde hair curled and hanging around her shoulders, I could see her looking fabulous tonight.

"Ooh, I like that." I said.

Anya smiled and said, "Yeah, I know. I am really hot." Anya had no shame. She was blunt and she told you exactly what she thought. She had the tendency to think she was the best thing since the sun. In Xander's eyes, she probably was. I'm not saying Anya isn't fabulous, because God knows she is a prize. The problem is that she knows it, and she makes sure every single day with every chance she gets, that you know it and embrace it too.

**And I'll wake up - Put on my make up, Pick up the phone - Nobody's home. I need to break out - Get me some take out, Stand inside a crowd - I want to scream out loud. That I'll be ok - And I'll be ok.**

"Maybe you'll meet someone tonight, Buff," Anya suggested, turning around and modeling the back of the dress in the mirror. The back was extremely low-cut, stopped just short of over-exposure. It was really probably the perfect thing for tonight. And for $3000.00…It needed to be perfect.

"And maybe I'll be a redhead," I replied sarcastically. "Let's face it guys, I'm always going to be your Unmarried Friend that spends hours working on Goodie Bags for your kids' birthday parties because I have no children of my own."

"You could consider artificial insemination," Willow suggested, coming out of the dressing room in a jade-colored, thick-strapped, V-neck dress that was perfect on her in every way.

"A test tube baby?" I frowned. "No thanks. I don't want a possible psycho's child."

"Good point. Me neither," Anya frowned.

We stepped back to admire Willow in the jade gown. It was long and flowing with extra layers of material to provide a soft, wispy effect. The jade color with her vibrant red hair and smooth, ivory skin made her look almost doll-like in a fragile yet beautiful way. To think that the Willow standing before me had once hid her body in fluffy pink kitty cat sweaters and overalls.

**Walking down this winding road, Rainy days are all I know, I have hit the ground. Staring up into the sky, Counting all the reasons why, my mind is spinning around…I need to breathe.**

"Look at this!" I stepped out of the dressing room in a black, strapless evening gown that clung tightly to my skin, with a slit up the back, and a long train.

"Ew!" Anya and Willow both cringed at the same time from where they sat with their bags. They'd already sent their gowns back to our rooms so we could have our hands free for the rest of the day. I was still attempting to find something that looked half-decent on me.

"I know!" I exclaimed in frustration. "I've tried on almost everything in this place, and I still can't find a dress! It's like dating in Gucci! You've both already found your dream dresses, and I'm stuck trying out different ones wondering why the Hell nothing works for me."

"Buffy, it's buying a dress, not picking a husband!" Anya exclaimed. "Just relax. Try on that white one. It's the last dress. Maybe you'll get lucky and it'll be the perfect fit. But it's really not the crisis-situation that you imagine."

**And I'll wake up - Put on my make up, Pick up the phone - Nobody's home. I need to break out - Get me some take out, Stand inside a crowd - I want to scream out loud…That I'll be ok.**

And just like Anya said, I found my dream dress. It slid on like a fantasy, and caressed my skin like a lover's touch. It was a thick-strapped, silk dream. The back draped down really low, exposing my formed back and defined shoulder blades. The front was V-neck style, showing a respectable amount of cleavage. I could just imagine my hair up to make my neck seem longer and more graceful, with a few soft curls hanging down for a wispy, dreamy effect.

Maybe I wasn't so hopeless after all. If I could find a dress that worked, maybe my search for Love wasn't a complete dead end. It was a long shot, but maybe it would work.

Maybe.

**Tomorrow's just another day, Another way to spend my day.**

~~

I arrived at the ball with Willow and Anya around 8 in the evening, ready for a night of fake smiling and nodding in agreement with something you hadn't really heard. The evening progressed as usual, with pictures next to my parents, and several on my own or with Willow and Anya for the gossip columns with fake stories like "President's Daughter : Partying and Mad Drinking Taken To The Extreme". Cordelia would love it. She'd have a Field Day, exclaiming to my father that I'd been shooting Jack Daniels back like water, when in all reality I'd had two glasses of champagne and refused anything else. That's just the way the media is.

They love to make things up.

After dinner, which wasn't too bad, we all headed into the ballroom for dancing and more socializing. The band began to play around ten. The song that began, made me stop for some reason. I felt something inside of me shift, and suddenly everything was different.

I turned away from the rich socialites that I was talking to with Willow and Anya, and looked across the dance floor.

And there he was…My dream.

I'll never forget that moment, because it was truly the moment that my life changed forever. My breath caught in my throat as his dark eyes captured mine, and a soft smirk lit up his perfect mouth. If there was ever a word to describe it, I don't know. All I know is that with one look…He had me.

Willow noticed my sudden change of attention and whispered, "Buffy? You ok?" But I barely heard her as I began to walk towards the tall, dark, handsome man standing on the other side of the room. It was as if the crowds had cleared a pathway for me to get to him, knowing that I didn't have the mental capacity now to ask them to move aside with actual words.

The band was playing a soft, slow melody of Celtic-style music that made me shiver. The notes were cradling me as I walked towards the fantasy I'd waited for. I'd never heard this song before, but it wouldn't make sense that I had : This song match the man I was walking towards, and I had never seen him before in my life…So how could I have heard his music?

I stopped a few feet before him and just stared. He had a soft smirk on his face that thrilled me to the core. He looked so dark, so handsome…and so sexy. Oh God how could you make a man this perfect? He must have a flaw. Somewhere…But no…From what I could see, he was just as perfect as the sun.

I had to say something. I had to open my mouth and get something out before he realized how pathetic I really was and moved along to someone like Cordelia, who could undoubtedly hold a conversation without drooling or using the word 'umm'. I finally parted my lips, trying all the while to decide what to say to this gorgeous man that was looking into my eyes with the most adorable look of intrigue that I had ever seen in my entire life in this universe or any other.

Just when I'd made up my mind on "Hello"…There was a sound. I don't know what it was. It knocked me from my trance, and I quickly turned around to find out what it was. I looked up, and through the large, glass, cathedral ceiling; someone came down, bring the thousands of shattered pieces of glass with them. Well, they were more or less 'thrown' than willingly diving the 60 feet to the ballroom floor.

I screamed and backed up, trying to cover my face from the glass. I knew what I needed to do, as the President's daughter. I had to get to the nearest security guard, and disappear. But things went differently. People began lowering themselves into the ballroom on black ropes and harnesses. The next thing I knew, there were bullets flying everywhere. People all around me were dropping to the floor out of fear, or in some cases…Pain.

Everyone was screaming, and running, and pushing. Being pushed and tossed around like a rag doll, I began to feel more and more distraught. The men on ropes were on the ground now, and they wouldn't stop shooting.

God help us all, they wouldn't stop! Everywhere I looked, people were dropping to the floor clutching bullet wounds and trying to slip pieces of glass out of their skin. "Dad!" I tried to scream over the swarm of screaming, frightened people. The emotional vibes flying through the room made the tears come to my eyes. "Willow! Anya!" Someone brushed past me, and something hard and sharp passed so close that it slit my arm. My only guess was that it was glass. I reached a hand to clutch my bloody cut, wishing this was all just a nightmare.

I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I was bleeding, surrounded by hundreds of dying, bleeding, and frightened people that wouldn't stop screaming. Oh God my head was pounding so hard. I didn't want to be here. Anywhere but here. Someone, please help me. I tried to open my mouth to say something, but one look at the blood on my arm made my mouth freeze in an open position.

And then I heard a voice…The man's voice. The one I'd recently discovered I wanted to spend my life with…It was him. He pushed through the scurrying crowds and came over to me. He looked me over once, quickly, and seemed to decide exactly what needed to be done. He stepped up to me and swooped me into his arms, cradling me close and telling me, "I'll get you out of here."

I looked up at him and despite all the chaos, I managed a smile. "I'm Buffy," I got out. How could I be smiling at a time like this? People were dying and I was smiling! What was I thinking? It's kind of ironic though…What was supposed to be the happiest moment ever - the moment I met my prince…Turned into the most traumatic experience ever. Just my luck.

See? Nothing ever goes my way.

He smiled down at me and then began to move. As he raced and pushed his way through the crowds, my mind began to function again. "My dad…" I managed to shout out over the roar to my savior. "I need to get to my dad!"

"He's already gone!" My man told me. "Security took him out about five minutes ago. He has them all looking for you," by now, we'd reached the exit to the ballroom, where people were flooding out the doors in an anxious sweat.

Outside, I finally remember Standard Protocol for a situation like this. There's a black Sedan around the corner waiting for me and the girls. If they'd made it out, they'd be in it. My dad would be ushered into another vehicle and taken to the Whitehouse's safe rooms. The girls and I were to be taken there.

Finally, my saving man set me down. I looked to him and he smiled slightly, "I'm Angel."

I scoffed, "figures you are." At a woman's terrified scream, my mind shot back to reality, and I grabbed Angel's hand in my own. "Let's go," I said. "There's a black Sedan. It should be waiting for me and my friends. I need to get to my dad."

We ran around the corner, and sure enough, there was the Sedan, surrounded by security. When they saw me, they rushed over and pulled me away from Angel. "Get back, sir!" They shouted at him as they began pushing me towards the car and checking to see that I was reasonably okay.

"No, he's with me!" I shouted over the roar of the shouts of the security guards. "He's coming with us! He saved me." It took a moment for security to understand what I'd said, and think it over. Finally they agreed, but pointed Angel to the car that would follow the Sedan with extra security in case we needed it.

"Willow? Anya?" My mind caught up to myself and I ran to the Sedan, praying to God that they were inside. Were they there? Were they hurt? Had they made it without a scratch on them?

Had they died?

Opening the door, I breathed a sigh of relief to see them both inside, crying and screaming my name. I dove in and collapsed in their arms, receiving thousands of relieved expressions like "Oh my God!" and "I can't believe you're alright!"

Inside the Sedan with us were three security guards, one of which had a first aid kit to tend to my arm. He cleaned the wound as the Sedan sped away from the curb, with the black car that Angel and the other security were in, following close behind.

I breathed a sigh of relief as my arm was cleaned and wrapped up until we had the proper things to fix it. It was over. It was all over now.

If only I'd known this was just the beginning.



... tbc???


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