Rating: umm...I'm thinking along the lines of PG...in the meantime. Who knows what the future might bring:).
Disclaimer: nope, last time I checked, nothing was mine.
Spoilers: well...better safe than sorry: everything up to the end of season 3 can be spoilery.
Synopsis: I have a strange drive to rewrite season 3 of BtVS. I just don't seem to like the way it ended...beats me why. Anyway, so despite the fact that the original plan was to begin with "Helpless" (that's around the time everything really started getting screwed up B/A-wise), as you can see, plan's changed and I'm going to start with "Anne". If you expect to find in this series events/quotes from the original season....I seriously mean it - I'll try my hardest keeping them to the very minimum. But all in all - it's probably a yet another attempt to end the season on a more "positive" B/A level. See how it goes:).
Pairing: the conventional ships: B/A, W/O, C/X. If I decide to torture any/all of them, you'll be the first to know:).
Distribution: ask first.
Feedback: please, yes, please.

And who's to blame?
I could assume
The loneliness of my white room
I saw the circles inside the squares
And yet it can be so hard to be aware
Three doors to go through
I only want the one
That leads to you

- Vast, "Three Doors"

***********

Giles knocked on the front door of the mansion, and restlessly rubbed his hands, releasing a tense sigh. After a sleepless night, the last thing he wanted to do was go all the way to the mansion, but all in all, he felt he owed them, and especially Angel, and in a sense, even himself, that much. He couldn't correct what he had done the other night. Unfortunately, it was one of the things he just couldn't make right. But at least he could make it a little better.

He took a deep breath. No, he hadn't come up with an alternative the way he was supposed to. Even given the circumstances, the idea he had formerly suggested was still standing strong. There was no alternative – at least, there wasn't one that could actually work…

But he had received a visit that spread at least some light on the darkness of his situation. Whatever happened, it was better than coming empty-handed, or so he assumed.

After several minutes, the door was opened from the inside, by a very drowsy Buffy.

"Giles?" she squinted, as if trying to adjust her eyes to the light.

He offered her a feeble smile. "My I-may I come in?"

The Slayer sniffled, and rubbed her eyes, smoothing her disheveled hair back from her face. "Yeah," she murmured, stepping back and letting him into the mansion.

********

Giles walked in and closed the door behind him, before he turned to look at Buffy again. She was wearing a worn T-shirt that almost reached her knees in length and a pair of white socks. By her appearance alone, he could learn just how tired she was, and the expression of her face didn't do anything to contradict that rightfully made first impression. She was everything *but* up to a serious talk, but the least he could do was break her the news. And preferably, not her alone.

"Where is Angel?" he inquired, only after the words had left his lips, knowing it wasn't one of his smartest questions, especially considering though it was still early morning, it already was daylight outside.

"Asleep," the Slayer murmured. "He had a rough night."

"I imagine so," the former Watcher mused, averting his eyes from the blonde.

"No, you really don't," she retorted, somewhat harshly, but it was obvious it was only a little intended to come out that way.

Giles nodded, not even trying to argue. After all, no one knew the vampire the way the Slayer did, and no one witnessed him in his ups and downs as much as she did. Suddenly, he glanced at his watch, as if realizing something. "W-why aren't y-you at school?"

Buffy regarded him for a spell, then simply replied, "I have better things to do at the moment."

He nodded, not attempting to argue with that one either, although if the circumstances had been different, he most certainly would have.

"What did you want?" she finally asked the question he had been waiting for. "And what do you need Angel for?"

"I wanted to…talk to you both, actually."

"Well, you can't," was all she said. "I'm not waking him up. What is it?" she looked up at the Englishman, a sparkle of hope in her dim eyes. "You have something new?"

"Yes, actually," he almost smiled. "I had another visit from my…friend, several hours after you'd left."

"What'd he say?" she didn't appear overly interested, since Giles clearly hadn't answered *her* question.

"Well…that's the strangest part, actually. He said he was called off," he regarded the Slayer, trying to anticipate her reaction. "Apparently, he was contacted by the Mayor…who seems to have cancelled the whole thing. I can't imagine how, b-but…he seems to have found out about the…lack of clause, I should say, in Angel's curse. In fact, the sorcerer's exact words were, 'the creature is protected by the Powers that Be. His soul is bound to him. No magick, or anything else, can remove it.'"

Buffy's face lit, all traces of weariness vanished from her features at once. "He said that?"

"Yes," her ex-Watcher smiled. "This is what I came to tell you. Angel's soul is safe. The Mayor has a carefully laid out plan, he would not get sidetracked to try and do something that cannot be done, or at least, I hope so. I also don't see him calling another sorcerer after this one. If he really intends to harm Angel, or rather, if Faith does, it will not be by trying to remove his soul. I thought you two should know it as soon as possible, so I came…"

"Thank you," Buffy beamed. "I'll tell Angel as soon as he wakes up."

The ex-Watcher nodded, but his expression turned serious. "This isn't over yet, Buffy, you know that. It's only a small part that is behind us now-"

"I would refer to the risk to Angel's soul as a *big* part," she corrected him emphatically.

"Yes," he nodded. "But still…"

"I know," she said. "But I'll deal with it, whatever *it* is gonna be. And when it comes."

Giles sighed. "Alright. Since you work according to your judgment anyway…I'll leave it to you, too. Just remember you're…not my Slayer anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she eyed him suspiciously.

"Your new Watcher would hardly tolerate this behavior…"

"My new Watcher can tolerate, or *not* tolerate whatever he wants, or doesn't want. I couldn't care less. The Council proved themselves to me already, so I know more than I wanted to about the people I supposedly *work* for."

"He will insist on order-"

"And besides," she flashed him a grin. "He can hardly *insist* on *anything*. He's been my Watcher for over a month now, and he's still unable to make me do something without begging you to help him convince me. So, if you're looking for potential threats, look elsewhere. I do things my way. If Wes still doesn't know that, he's gonna learn. And if he thinks for one second that my lover, or my sister-Slayer will come *after* the Mayor in my order of priorities, he better think again." She paused, and all amusement was gone from her eyes when she resumed her speech. "My number one problem is behind me, thanks God. That leaves me with problem number two, which is Faith. I haven't given up on her yet, Giles. I don't think I ever will. She's a part of me, in so many ways…she's me. I won't let her throw away all the good she's here to do, not if I can help it."

"I understand that," Giles put his hand on her shoulder encouragingly. "I hope you won't be disappointed though."

"Then I guess I'll have to make sure I make it right," Buffy sighed.

**********

After seeing Giles off, Buffy returned to the bedroom, but found her boyfriend still asleep. Since she didn't want to go back to sleep herself, and also ruled out the option of going to school, being already late for first period, she headed to the kitchen, to make herself a cup of coffee.

Several minutes later, having found nothing interesting on TV and having nothing else to do, her feet subconsciously carried her to what she was always referring to as 'Angel's place', which was actually a remote corner in the mansion, faraway from every room. There, as she had always known, all Buffy discovered were a desk, a chair and a books-cabinet, and other seemingly infinite, various books, all pilled up by the desk.

She had been staying away from there up until now, thus it was the first time she had ever really been to that remote corner of her home. It wasn't that she was forbidden to go there, Angel had never set anyplace or anything out of limits for her, ever since she had moved in with him, but she still had never been there. Maybe she had never really wanted to, maybe she had never found the opportunity to go there, she didn't know. She did know though that at least one of the reasons she had never even seen that place, and that regardless to her naturally never-satisfied curiosity, was for the same reason she didn't want Angel, no matter that he knew all there was possibly to know about her, to ever read her diary. She knew that whenever he was retreating to his little sanctuary from the rest of the world, it was him alone with his thoughts, and it never woke any feelings of jealousy within her that perhaps these were things so private even she didn't know about them. She simply respected, and only had just realized she was quite frequently on the very verge of breaking said respect, the fact he needed certain things to be only his own.

The Slayer briefly turned around, as if to see if she were really alone in the room, then listened for a moment, obviously knowing she was set out to do something wrong. After making sure she really was on her own, she stealthily approached the desk, and hindered herself in the last moment from pulling out the chair, reckoning it was better to leave every object just as she had found it.

Naturally, her eyes were caught by a book lying open on the desk, and her being Buffy, *and* all alone in the room, and the pages being filled with Angel's handwriting, made it completely impossible for her to look the other way, even assuming she would have done it otherwise.

She read the date in the upper corner of the page, and learned the text had been written only a couple of days ago, which only made her more curios, if such thing was possible. There wasn't a person, or vampire, or *anyone* as far as she knew, who was spending more time reflecting upon his thoughts (brooding, as she called it) like her boyfriend. And whatever he could spend so much time brooding about, she could never even begin to guess, and at times, the not-knowing was driving her crazy. She knew some of it, of course, but it always seemed to her like she really knew nothing. If she could only have a peek at it…

Buffy gulped, looking over her shoulder again, and nervously biting her lower lip. "Sorry," she ultimately squeezed through greeted teeth, and turned back to the vampire's diary, lying so open and inviting on the desk right in front of her. "Really, really, *really* sorry," she hissed to herself when her eyes fell on the page. "Well, he did read mine once…" she whispered, then shook her head at the thought, *stupid*, you *thought* he read it, then you blurted everything out, it was *you're* fault!"

She drew in a deep breath, then looked around the room again. She was alone. "Sorry," she whispered pleadingly again, to no one, and gazed down on the page. After the first word, she completely forgot that what she was doing was wrong.

"'God kills, and so shall we; indiscriminately, he takes the richest and the poorest, and so shall we; for no creatures under God are as we are, none so like him as ourselves, dark angels, not confined to the stinking limits of Hell but wandering his earth and all its kingdoms…'

Who would have thought, right? That I, who can't stand the stereotypes given to vampires by humans, would find myself reading a book about vampires?

Naturally, she had no idea what she was talking about – a yet another human to add to the long list of those who decided they knew everything. I knew the one she based her vampire upon. Not Luis, Lestat. There was never a Luis in the real world. The Gypsies were certainly original, but they were only that original once. The real 'Lestat'…he was a vicious animal, Hell, almost as vision as I used to be in my days – but there is almost nothing in common between him and the character she created.

Did she even meet him, I wonder? No, probably, not. If she did, there would be no one left to write the books. And it's annoying, even to the point of ludicrous, the way she wrote her vampires. But it's not only she…it's she, and all the other writers that have ever taken that theme upon themselves. They barely know the basics, and the rest…they just fill the blank with what they think makes sense. And then people see us the way they want them to see us. Murderers of the night…animals… well, they did get one thing right.

But how stupid can the woman be?! Her entire book filled with explanations as to why we do what we do! If she had ever met one of us, just one, she would have never tried to explain! She has no idea what she's trying to justify, no idea…

And truth is, I read this book several times. I always hoped I would find something new, something real…something to comfort myself with…something to help me understand. After all, that character she was trying to portray…he could be very well me. But he's not me. Every reading I know it, and every reading I know I will try to read this book again some time, maybe find something to grasp at, after all. He's not me. Who's she kidding?! A vampire that gets to keep his soul…all vampires get to keep their souls and kill because they want to…no.

Here, I laugh to myself even as I write it. It's ridiculous. And still…not a second of my life…unlife…death goes by, that I don't wish for it to have been true. Not a single moment. So many things I could have changed, if I had only had my soul back then…if I could only understand. But could I, really? Could I have changed that much? Damn it, I had been a sub-human even before I became a vampire!

Right on time. I still don't know…does she really have that sixth sense to come back from school and call my name every time I sink so deep into 'brooding', as she refers to it? Or maybe it's me, planning the time for her to pull me out while there's still something left in me to be saved? Is there anything in me to be saved?…

Well, I won't know today, I'm pretty sure. She won't give me a moment to myself now that she's back home, and frankly, I wouldn't ask for it. When she's here, I don't want it. She even has the power to make me stop thinking about thinking.

And anyway…the thoughts just lose their sense to me when she's around. If I could think when she's around, I would have never doomed something as beautiful and vibrant as she to share a life with me. It's a strange thought though…because I don't feel that way with her. When I hold her in my arms, and her warmth and her breath and her heartbeat mix with my silence and cold…I feel alive. I feel human.

My love.

And to top it all, she loves me. How can she love me?! How can she love something like that?! I Don't know. And the selfish part of me obviously doesn't really care to find out. I just enjoy holding her in my arms, being held in hers…lately, when I close my eyes at night with her golden head resting on my chest, I seldom don't even care enough if I deserve it all or not. I'm just satisfied with…being. It seems only not so long ago, that I thought I would never feel that way. But then she came into my life."

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