A/N: OK, I'm trying my hand at Gidgetgirl's Uptown Girls challenge. This is also my first attempt at a Buffy Fic, so there's two firsts in one fic. Anyone who has read my work, my updates are sporadic, I have no beta, and I love feedback, it encourages me to continue. The usual disclaimer: I do not own Buffy/Angel (because if I did, Fred would not have died and then been cancelled, those bastards!!)

Cordelia Chase, spoiled brat extraordinaire, lounged in her favorite poolside chair, checking her tan. She reached for her drink, finding it empty, opened her mouth,

"CAMILLE!!" she shrieked, in a voice that carried over the lavish Chase

Estate, "My glass is EMPTY, and that is never good." She smiled as she saw Camille hurrying towards her, an ice cold pitcher full of margarita goodness. "What kept you, I could have been dying of thirst?" sounding like the petulant child, she was, instead of a twenty-three year old woman she should be.

"So sorry, Miss Cordelia, I was answering the phone inside, your father called from Europe, he wanted you to. . ."

"I don't care, he always wants something stupid. Tell him I'm out shopping, or I went out. I don't know, I don't want to talk to him, at all." Cordelia cut off the maid's statement, trying to forget the pain that she felt whenever he was mentioned.

"Yes, Miss Cordelia" Camille turned and walked back to the mansion. Cordelia went back to her sunbathing, deliberately ridding her mind of any thought of her father, the so-called godfather of Rock.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town . . . in a fairly nice suburban house, trouble was brewing: specific location, house number six, Cherry Pie Lane. Now at first glance, number six appears peaceful and quiet, but on the inside;

"THAT'S IT, I QUIT!!" in a voice so loud that could be heard on the sidewalk, boomed out of the house. The sudden noise caused a couple of young lovebirds to look at the house in shock, then scurry past. Inside the house, a blond woman started packing her suitcase, while her employer tried to talk to her.

"Please, Miss Kendall, I-I-I'm sure Faith can be a handful, but she likes you. Please don't quit on us now. She's been having a-a-a-a rather difficult time, since her mother passed on."

"NO, I've tried, and I've tried, Mr. Wyndham-Price, but she does not like me, and I can't do this anymore. There is not enough money that could make this worth my while. I'm sorry, but you need to get her professional help." Harmony grabbed her suitcase and fled, Mr. Wyndham-Price following her to the door, still stammering incoherently. As she walked into the night, Mr. Wyndham-Price closed the door slowly and walked upstairs.

Wesley walked to his daughter's room where she sat watching him, silently. He walked over to her, and sat down next to her and sighed as she climbed into his lap.

"Faith, you know, you mustn't drive off the nannies, like that. That's the sixth one this month! What am I to do with you?" Faith looked at him, her big brown eyes pleading with him, and he sighed again, hugging her close to him. "I love you; baby, but you need a nanny, at least for a while. Daddy has to work. Now, why don't you read one of your books, I still have to finish a few reports before I make dinner?"

Faith climbed off his lap, after kissing him on the cheek, and picked up a book. Wesley glanced at his small, silent daughter, and walked reluctantly off to his office. He sat down at his desk, seeing the picture from only six months ago. Faith's sixth birthday party, one of the last truly happy times. He 

picked up the picture, seeing Faith sitting on his wife's lap, He standing behind them, all smiling radiantly.

"God, Buffy, we need you." He whispered quietly, not wanting to disturb his daughter.

Reformatted and edited for your enjoyment.