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.

When I am with you
I feel flames again
Just put me inside you
I would never ever leave
Just put me inside you
I would never ever leave you

- Vast, "Flames"

The vampire opened his eyes and blinked a few times, seemingly trying to get accustomed to the room he was in, as though he'd never seen it before. But the feelings he had, as if he had woken up into an unfamiliar world, still wasn't sufficient to change the fact it was merely his mansion, his bedroom, his bed…and his girlfriend...and Christmas morning.

Angel slowly, as though he was afraid of something yet unknown even to him, turned his head to his left, and his eyes fell on the serene face of the small blonde Slayer, peacefully sleeping, wrapped in the crook of his arm. He peered at her painfully for a few more seconds, then briefly averted his eyes to the right, swallowing hard and drawing in a deep breath. He closed his eyes, and reopened them, daring to look back at the girl sleeping by his side, but once his eyes fell on her again, he again, shut them in pain.

After a minute, he slowly unfolded his left arm, and used his right hand to gently move hers from his chest, all the while watching her face, so he wouldn't wake her up. Afterwards, he pulled his arm from under her, carefully, gradually, making sure not to disturb her. Once he was completely free, Angel sat up on the edge of the bed, turning his back to his still sleeping girlfriend and burying his hands in his open palms with a sigh.

And like that, he'd been sitting for nearly half an hour, too wrapped up in his thoughts of remorse, and the fresh from the previous night distress and repentance, that were now afflicting his soul, and consuming him from the inside, to notice the minutes rapidly fly by.

He only stirred for the first time when he felt the bed move behind him, but it didn't give him the courage required to whirl around and look at her. He wasn't able to do that. He wasn't able to face her. He had never felt as unworthy as he did that very moment.

"Angel?" she whispered his name softly and he closed his eyes, as his shoulders tiredly slumped, his face sinking back into his palms.

Buffy waited a moment for a reaction from him, then sighed, sitting up and wrapping a sheet around her bare breasts. She hesitantly reached out one hand, as the other tightly clutched the fabric to her body, and attempted to touch the vampire's shoulder, but her hand froze in mid gesture and she pulled it back, casting her eyes on the bed for a moment. After another lapse of tense silence, the Slayer made up her mind, and crawled up to him, sliding her hand under his arm from behind, and resting it over his unbeating heart, pressing her cheek to his left shoulder.

"Leave me alone, Buffy…please," he implored silently, mur muring the words into his palms, inwardly wondering what had kept him from simply leaving the room earlier, before she had woken up. "I need to…I need to be alone right now," he continued to speak, but didn't make a move to free himself f rom her embrace, let alone, exit the bedroom. "I need time to think…"

The blonde Slayer drew back from him in silence, also removing her hand from his chest. "This is really what you want right now?" she inquired softly, looking down.

"Yes," came his hoarse reply.

Buffy nodded in acknowledgement and wetted her lips. "I'm not sorry," she said quietly, thinking it was important he knew.

Angel raised his head at that, then let out a sigh, "But I am."

She gulped, unsure of how to answer to these three words, unsure if she should let him know just how deeply it had hurt hearing them. She looked up at his broad back, focusing on the tattoo on his shoulder, as she gently lay her hand on it, and moved it from there to his arm, gently turning him around until he faced her. "It's okay," she uttered softly, forcing her inner agony to remain undisclosed, holding his eyes with hers. "It's okay if you do, Angel , i-it's not okay, but I…I understand that. I knew…it'd happen. I knew yo u would."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled inaudibly. "I'm sorry…I just need to…I need to understand…I need time."

"I love you, Angel," she lifted her hand to his cheek, stroking it gently. "I need you to understand *that*. I love you-"

"But it isn't about you!" he cut in, sharply pulling back from her touch. "It's about *me*. It's about what I feel, what I need to deal with, you're not a part of it, Buffy, *thank God* you're not a part of it."

The blonde maintained her gaze on him, tears rapidly welling up in her eyes and cascading down her cheeks. "I thought it was about *us*," she whispered.

"No," he shook his head. "What happened last night, what *I * did…it was wrong."

"What *you* did?" the Slayer exclaimed painfully. "I wanted it!" she cried, moving across the bed over to where he was. "I *wanted* it, Angel…"

"It wasn't supposed to happen," the vampire muttered emphatically, standing up and pulling on a pair of boxers.

"Angel," his girlfriend touched his arm again, standing up too, still securely holding the sheet to her body, "we made love," she whispered, looking up into his eyes, her hand mildly caressing the sides of his face. "It was…wonderful, and beautiful, and amazing…how can you call it a mistake?"

He peered at her, striving to uphold his guard against his own emotions and the sparkling tears in her eyes. He loved her too much to bear her cry and he loved her too much to say these words to her, especially when he himself didn't believe in them. What had happened that night truly was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to him, something he felt unworthy of, and something he had thought he'd never be fortunate enough to experience again. Making love to her was priceless, feeling her around him, allover him, and then having her fall asleep in his arms, like a child, protected and loved...it was the ultimate bliss, beyond comparison. It was something he could only fully estimate and treasure being in complete possession of his soul…something that had been brutally stolen from him the first time. But that same soul was un able to stop thinking about the risk he had taken that night. He didn't care about The Powers That Be, he didn't care what they had promised him, and he didn't even care that their promise had come true. All he knew was that he had risked the two things in the world that were the dearest to him - his soul, and the woman he loved.

"You don't understand," he shook his head sorrowfully. "You can't possibly understand…"

Buffy nodded, reluctantly acknowledging she apparently really didn't understand, either all of it, or some of it.

"You don't understand," he reiterated. "You have no idea wh at you're playing with, *no* idea!" he hissed, roughly wiping the tears from his cheeks as his orbs intently bore into hers. Buffy reached her hand for him, but he recoiled sharply. "This isn't a game, Buffy!" he snapped, then in a lower voice added, "not anymore."

"That's what you think it is for me?" she inquired in a small voice, pulling her hand back, a wounded mien on her tear-streaked face. "A game?"

Angel peered at her for a moment, her hurt reflecting in his eyes. "I could have killed you," he whispered, memories from last night flashing in his mind as he spoke, and as clouded as they were by his pain, the peace they brought with them he was unable to disregard. "You…you were so beautiful, " he murmured, extending one hand to her face and gently stroking her skin with his knuckles, never tearing his eyes from hers. "You curled up in my arms and closed your eyes, and the next minute, you were sound asleep. And I held you," he went on softly, abruptly drawing his hand back from her face, as though he'd only then realized he hadn't been allowed to do that. "I held you as tight as I could without waking you up, and I felt your breath on my skin, and your heart pounding against my chest, and your warmth in my arms, and all I wanted to do that moment was to protect you, for as long as it's left for us to be in this world. But I couldn't," he swallowed, and brushed away a tear sliding down his cheek. "I couldn't even stay awake. I allowed sleep to take over, and I could so easily wake up…him…and put an end to all this."

"But you can't…"

"I don't care!" he asserted. "I could just snap your neck …"

"No," the Slayer shook her head emphatically. "You wouldn't …"

"No, I probably would have been much more creative," he smirked, backing away subconsciously, right into the wall behind him, until his open palms lay on the bare bricks. By that time, his expression sobered, and all traces of smirk were gone from it. "You don't know what you're doing," he whispered.

Buffy stood up, fastening the sheet around her so that she would be able to move around without the need to constantly hold it to keep it from sliding down from her body, and slowly paced over to the vampire. "Is it wrong," she stopped inches away from him, looking him intently in the eyes, "to trust you?" she asked, reaching for his two hands and taking them in her own, then enfolding them around her waist. "Or to want you…or to love you?" she went on, laying her hands on his chest, making sure not to break eye contact. "Do you even think it's *your* decision to make?"

"How can you say you trust me?" he asked in a low voice. "How can you trust someone you don't even know?"

"I know more than you realize, Angel."

"Everything I did…"

"You did it to me," she interrupted him, tears glistening in her eyes as she drew their bodies even closer. "Everything you did, you did to me. And if I want to wrap my arms around you after that, if I want to hold you, to trust you…to love you…to fall asleep in your arms like there's no danger in the world for me in them…it's because I *know*," she emphasized. "And this is *my* choice to make. I've seen enough in my life, Angel, and I've seen you. I've seen you in your best, and I've seen you in your worst…and I've seen the demon in you, in every way that matters. But right now," she smoothed her palms across his chest, tearing her eyes from his for a moment to trail her hands until they disappeared behind his back, then she looked up. "Right now, I'm holding the man."

"Buffy…"

"And I love him," the Slayer ignored his attempt to speak. "And he isn't a monster, and he isn't a killer. He's my Angel," she looked back down on his chest. "And he was my Angel when I closed my eyes, and he was my Angel when I opened them." She paused. "Is it okay now?" she looked back up. "Is it okay to love you now?"

The vampire slightly shook his head, seemingly in some state of confusion, but was unable to pronounce words.

Buffy chewed on her lower lip, briefly casting her eyes to the floor. "I know," she said, as if that was the reply she had predicted to receive from him. "And it never will be, right? Not until you decide it is…right?" she drew closer, and rose on her tiptoes to gently brush her lips over his. When she pulled back and looked at him, his eyes were still closed. "I'm not going anywhere though."

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