Life's a Bitch: 3
by Ksue
Angel O'Connor pushed through the door to his favorite diner. He came ievery Thursday during his evening break from classes.
"Hey Anya," he nodded, sitting in a corner booth. He pulled out his Mythlogy book and a pad of paper.
"Hey Angel. Your girl will be with you in a sec," Anya said, trying to balance a tray, loaded with dishes, in one hand and a bill in the other.
"You're not my wiatress tongiht? An, the food won't be the same," Angel smiled playfully. His darkeyes danced when he smiled. He was usually the tall, dark, handsome, and very broody type.
"Oh, you'll like Buffy," Anya grinned knowingly.
"Buffy?" Buffy? What kind of name is Buffy? Oh, who am I kidding my name's wierd too. Angel was momentarily distracted by a group of truckers ambleing through the front door.
"Can I take your order, sir?" Buffy asked, pen ready. Angel ahdn't noticed her walk up.
"Uh yeah..." Angel broke off when he looked at her. His eyes wandered over her honey hair, blue green eyes, bright smile, and lithe body. Buffy shifted uncomfortably, snapping him out of his trance.
"Angel," he stammered.
"What?" Buffy gasped. She was shocked.
"My name. Please don't call me sir. It makes me feel old," Angel smiled.
"Are you? Old, I mean."
"No. I'm 20, a student at U.C. Santa Cruz," Angel explained, regaining his composure.
"Ah. Well, I'm Buffy. 17, not a student at U.C santa Cruz," Buffy teased. They talked for a moment before Buffy finallytook his order.
As she walked away, Buffy caught Anya's eye.
"Cute huh?" Anya whsipered, once behind the counter.
"Very. What's the catch?" Buffy prodded.
"No catch. He's single, cute, wealthy...," Anya ticked offthe sttributes off on her fingers.
"Wealthy? How wealthy?" Buffy usually shied away from rich boys.
"His father is a Senior Partner at Wolfram and Hart," Anya explained.
"No. Not a lawyer's son. I don't think so." Buffy grabbed Angel's food.
"Thanks Buffy," Angel said as Buffy set down the plate.
"No problem. Interesting book?" Buffy asked, motioning to the thick, leather bound book.
"Irish myths. I'm a myhtology major," Angel shrugged.
"Cool. Well, enjoy your meal. Anya can ring you up when you're ready." Buffy turned to walk away.
"You're leaving?" Angel asked, his smile fading.
"Yeah. My shift's done and I've got homework," Buffy shrugged. As she walked by the table where the truckers sat, one reached out and pinched her butt. She stopped and tensed, tears stinging her eyes.
"Hey! That's no way to treat a lady," Angel growled. He had jumped up and grabbed the man's wrist in a death grip.
"She's not a lady. She's a trailer trash who.. Aargh!" Angel twisted the man's wrist until he felt strain on the man's wrist until he felt strain on the bones.
"I wouldn't finish that statement if I were you," Angel growled. He let go when the man whimpered and turned to Buffy. She was oput the door before he could open his mouth

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