Disclaimer: I don't own the challenge; that belongs to Lee. Buffy and Angel and respective characters belong to Joss Whedon, and Ocean's Eleven belongs to Warner Bros.

Feedback: Please do.

Challenge: Basically, redo the basic plot of Ocean's Eleven with Buffy and Angel characters. Angel should take the place of Danny Ocean, and Connor as Linus Caldwell. The other characters are up to you.

Other Requirements:
Keep the running gag of the Rusty character always eating/drinking something.

All characters should be at the jobs they were in the movie (Frank a dealer in a casino, Basher in the middle of another heist, Rusty teaching movie stars how to play poker, Danny/Angel in jail, Livingston working freelance for the FBI, etc.)

Angel's Eleven

Getting up from his hard bed, Liam Angelus, ex-private detective, known to all his friends and enemies as 'Angel', was escorted out of his cell and taken down towards the interview.

Sitting down in front of the 'tribunal' that would decide his fate, Angel briefly reflected this would be a blessing; at least he'd finally get it over and done with, whatever else happened to him.

"Please state your name for the record," one of them said.

"Liam Angelus," he replied, nodding briefly at the man who'd spoken, wishing he'd been able to shave his stubble; he felt like a hobo.

"Thank you," the table's only woman said. "Mr. Angelus, the purpose of this meeting is to determine whether, if released, you are likely to break the law again. While this was your first conviction, you have been implicated, though never charged, in over a dozen other confidence schemes and frauds. What can you tell us about this?"

Angel shrugged. "As you say, ma'am, I was only implicated," he said, trying to sound casual. "As you're probably aware, in those cases, I was mostly responsible for bringing the criminals involved in the trial to court; I never actually committed any crimes myself."

"Mr Angelus," the second man at the table put in, "what we're trying to establish is, was there a reason you chose to commit this crime, or was there a reason why you simply got caught this time?"

Angel thought about it, and shrugged.

"My girlfriend had left me," he said eventually. "I was angry, frustrated; I wanted to vent my frustration on the people I blamed for the incident in question. I entered a fairly… destructive phase in my life, I guess."

The 'tribunal' looked at each other thoughtfully, and then the woman looked back at Angel.

"If released, is it likely you would fall back into a similar phase?" she asked him.

Angel stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling for a few moments, before shaking his head.

"She already left me once; I don't think she'd do it again just for the heck of it," he said. "Besides, the people I blamed for it are as good as gone now; who'd I attack?"

"And, have you any ideas what you would do if you got out?" the second man asked.

Angel shrugged. "Try the detective thing again, I guess," he shrugged. "After all, it went pretty well the last time; might as well see if I still have the knack for it."

Then he smiled. "Besides, next time I'm here, I'd rather not be the prisoner, know what I mean?"

One of the men smiled slightly at that, and Angel clenched his fists in celebration.

He was free…

A couple of hours later, Angel found himself standing outside the prison gates, dressed once again in his favored attire; black leather duster, dark trousers, a dark blue shirt, and black shoes. He was also wearing a small silver claddagh ring on his left ring finger with the heart pointing inwards, and a pair of dark sunglasses covered his eyes.

Looking around at the open air around him, unconfined by cages for the first time in five years, Angel took his first step out into free America….

… And walked straight into a large, private, Los Angeles casino that he'd frequented a bit during his 'wilder' period.

Taking off his glasses, Angel looked casually around the casino, smiling a little at the site. He knew it probably wasn't his smartest move, given the low amount of money on his person at present, but if he was going to at least get started, he'd need a bit more.


He stared down at the folded newspaper in his hand, and the tall, fairly handsome dark-haired man in the photograph on the front page, standing beside someone who couldn't quite be seen.

Parker Abrams.

He growled, low in his throat.

He had some unfinished business to attend to.

Walking over to the nearest blackjack table, Angel sat down and waited a few seconds for the dealer to deal out the cards. Briefly looking around, he sighed in regret- evidently, more things had changed in the world than just him.

He looked back down at his cards. Nine-ten; he was staying in. The dealer- seventeen.

Angel smiled; even after five years, he still had it.

The next cards were dealt out. Angel had a king-four. Dealer? Showing a six. Angel decided to stick with it, and the dealer busted.

Another hand; Queen-ace. Twenty-one. Angel had won again.

He took the money back, looked up at the dealer…

And blinked in surprise.

"Gunn?" he said, staring at the man in front of him in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

The tall, handsome black man behind the table, looking rather out-of-place in his crisp white shirt and dark red waistcoat, looked up at him with an apparent expression of surprise on his face.

"Gunn?" he said, casually. "I'm sorry, sir, you've got me confused with someone else. I'm Ramon, see?" he said, indicating his badge.

Angel smiled slightly. "Sorry; my mistake," he said, picking up his chips. "It's been a while since I saw my friend; he used to hang around here a lot, and I assumed you were him."

"Easy mistake to make," 'Ramon' said dismissively. "You want to find your friend, I recommend the lounge at the Grand; it gets busy around one."

Angel nodded his tanks, and then turned around and walked out of the building.

A few hours later, at one, Angel was casually sipping a fresh pint of Guinness, and staring blankly at the newspaper in his hand.

"Catching up on current events?" a voice said.

Looking up, Angel smiled as Gunn sat down opposite him at the booth.

"'Ramon'?" he asked, teasingly. "All those times we worked undercover, and the best you could come up with was 'Ramon'?"

Gunn shrugged. "I was desperate for some cash," he shrugged. "Besides, you know as well as I do these kind of places don't want someone with a record on their payroll."

Angel sighed. "You need to get over that, Gunn; it was a long time ago."

"Yeah, I know," Gunn said, smiling. Then his face hardened as he stared at Angel. "But blowing up a law firm didn't exactly help matters, you know."

Angel sighed again, and looked up at Gunn.

"We all knew the risks, Gunn," he said. "Believe me, I know that better than anyone; I lost five years of my life because of the risks." He shrugged casually. "Still, we have to move on."

He looked over at Gunn again. "Seen Wesley recently?"

Gunn shrugged. "Last I heard he was downtown, teaching some actors some new tricks."

"Meaning cards?" Angel asked casually.

"Yeah, probably," Gunn said, smiling. "Still, can't deny it might come in useful for some kind of future project." He looked back at Angel. "Why? You don't have something planned already?"

Angel looked at Gunn in mock horror. "Gunn, I just got out of prison," he said, in a horrified tone. "A job is the last thing on my mind."

Gunn smiled at the look on his ex-boss's face.

He did have something planned.

How could they not? The business wasn't finished yet.

"What's the target now?" he asked. "I mean, most of the big shots went down or fell out of business when we took out the building. The only parts of their branch that weren't ruined were…"

"Casinos," Angel said, pulling the paper out and passing it to Gunn. "Read that; I have to go and see Wesley."