Hey There. I Do Not Own Buffy, Angel Or Their Characters. You Shoulda Known Better.

Here's Another One Of My WIP. I Have Alot Of The Going. I Know, I Know. Bear With Me People. I Have Alot Of Thoughts Running Through My Head.

Bad Habit Of Mine. Really.

Story, Along With Well, Almost All Of My Stories, Is Being Revised. Thank You To Dani & KK.

Whistler followed Angelus for the past few weeks. The man was living live a bum, giving the whole torture soul routine quite a run.

Whistler could understand, though.

He knew what kind of a being he'd been. Scourge of Europe and all that. He even knew what kind of human he'd been long before then, which truthfully, wasn't much better. But he also knew what kind of person he could be today. He knew what he was destined for. And it was almost time for him to know too.

Another person about to get a dose of destiny had his heartbreaking. The current slayer was fading fast and a new one was set to be called.

He knew a little about the girl, not much, but enough to make him feel sorry for her.

She was going to have it rough. He knew she was just a kid. They were all young, but she was the youngest in a long while.

'There's fate for you I guess.'

Whistler watched as Angelus sorted through trashcans and then went to hide in the alley, all the while shaking his head at the pathetic display.

"Just a few more days then we'll see what you can really do," he muttered to himself, then he walked away for the night.

OoOoO

Today was the day.

Whistler followed Angelus down the Manhattan alleyway.

It was a cold, it was night, and he was, once again, looking through the trashcans hidden along the way.

When he fell over, knocking some down with him, only then did Whistler finally present himself to the former vampire.

"God, are you disgusting? This is really an unforgettable smell," Whistler sniffed the air shortly. "That's the stench of death you're giving off here. And the look says.. uh.. crazy homeless guy. It's not good."

"Get away from me," he growled.

"What are you gonna do? Bite me?" Whistler asked then jumped back in mock horror, grabbing at his chest. "But no, you're not going to bite me. Not anymore. Account of now being a human, one tortured soul you are Angelus."

Angelus looked at him, trying to figure what was going on.

"It's so sad. A vampire cursed to be human, to have a soul. Wow. Really."

"Who are you?" he whispered.

Whistler nodded back out of the alley as he said "Lets take a walk."

OoOoO

And they did.

Whistler, much smaller than the former vampire, but much more in touch with the world he was. Angel kept almost getting hit by cars.

'You'd think he'd gotten used to them by now, my God,' Whistler thought holding him back.

"What are you eating? Like two grams of trash once a month?" he asked. "Hey!" he yelled as he almost got hit by a car once again. "Look you're skin and bones here! Shelters and returants are throwing away more junk in a day than you can stand. Good food! If you lived in the world a little bit you'd know that," he advised.

"I wanna know who you are."

"And I wanna know who you are," he retorted.

Angelus looked back at the street then back at the other man.

"You already do."

"Not yet, but I'm looking to find out 'cause you could go either way here," he said, rather softly.

"I don't understand you," and bpy, did it show.

"Nobody understands me. That's my curse," he said with amusement then turned to the hot dog stand behind him, getting his money to prepare to pay. "Dog me. Mustard," he told the older guy working the stand. Then, while the man was fixing it and handing it to him, he shortly turned back to Angelus. "My name's Whistler," he took the hot dog, paid the man and told him thanks then took his change and started turning to walk back to the cursed soul. "Anyway lately it is," he took a bite into his hotdog with a bit of a moan of satisfaction.

Angelus looked up at him. "You're not a vampire," he said then looked back down.

Whistler swallowed then looked more seriously at him. "A demon.. technically. I mean, I'm not a bad guy, not all demons are dedicated to the destruction of all life."

"What do you mean I can go either way?"

"I mean you can become an even more useless rodent than what you already are.. or you can become someone. A person. Someone to be counted."

"I just wanna be left alone," he said, walking away.

"Well what?" he waved at the retreating back before going back to his hot dog. "You've been left alone for ninety years already? And what a package you are. 'The stink guy!'"

"What do you want from me?" he said after he turned back.

"I want you to see something." There was a pause. "We'd have to leave now. You see, then you tell me what you wanna do."

"Where is it?"

Whistler smiled. "Los Angeles, of all places. A new slayer's about to be called."