Beneath the Surface

Beneath the Surface

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.

Will you turn my mind away from
Everything that I haven't done
Hope is falling away from me
Hope is falling away from me
Let's go down with the ship
Let's slip into oblivion
Let's go down with the ship
Let's slip into, let's slip into
The blue

- Vast, "Blue"

********

"Guess who," Buffy peeked over Willow's shoulder as the redhead was putting some books into her locker.

She briefly glanced at the blonde with a knowing smile. ""Awfully cheery today," she remarked. "Is this the part when I ask how your patrol went?"

The Slayer nodded eagerly, as the two girls started their way towards the library.

"Hey," Oz walked over to the two, and planted a kiss on Willow's head. "What's up?"

"Hey, Oz," the Slayer greeted him back.

"Buffy's been telling me about Angel," Willow informed her boyfriend, and took his hand, facing the Slayer again. "Well?"

Buffy beamed. "We talked…"

"And?" the witch prompted, craving to know everything down to the tiniest details.

"Well, we were patrolling…and we made it up to Restfield, where he started feeling bad…"

"Is he okay?" the redhead asked with concern, touching Buffy's arm.

"Yeah, he is," the blonde beamed in assurance. "Besides, I made him promise to rest a lot today, not that he seemed to be in the state to object, anyway." She shrugged, changing the subject to what she had wanted to tell her best friend ever since that morning. "So we sat down, and since he hadn't said a word to me the entire patrol, I tried making him talk, you know, initiate an actual *conversation*, preferably a real one, where *both of us* take parts," she added with a pointed look at her best friend. And the truth of the matter really was that almost every conversation they had had up until the other night was mostly carried out by her alone.

"And?" Willow gestured with her hand for Buffy to go on. "I'm guessing you did," she grinned knowingly.

"Oh, yeah," her friend groaned, rolling her eyes to the ceiling in frustration, "right after he was done tormenting nerves I didn't know I had. He's *so* stubborn, God!" she hissed, as Oz pushed the flap doors open, and the three walked past them into the library.

Buffy hopped on one of the tables, while her friend made comfortable in her boyfriend's lap on a nearby chair.

"He, typically, laid out the list of 'why exactly Buffy and Angel is *wrong*'," the Slayer groaned, "I mentioned typically, right?"

Willow and Oz both nodded simultaneously, even though the werewolf wasn't overly engrossed in the story, or seemed to be even a little interested in it, in any way.

"So, we talked," Buffy went on.

"Then you smooched," Willow beamed.

The Slayer chuckled, biting her lower lip sheepishly. "We *talked*," she accentuated the last word, "then we talked some more, for like…" she sighed, "hours. Then we smooched," Buffy grinned. "Just a little."

Willow gave her a look, while Oz only half-smiled, both not exactly believing her version if the story.

The blonde dismissed them with a shrugged, but her green orbs seemed to be glistening with a grin of their own.

"Oww…that's great! That's so great!" the redhead fidgeted in Oz's embrace, and nudged his chest for a reaction. "Isn't it great?"

"Awesome," he nodded at the blonde Slayer, his eyes not giving away any particular emotion to go with the words.

The witch sighed contently, and looked back at her friend. "So what'd you do afterwards?"

"We pretty much talked all night," Buffy remarked thoughtfully, a look of longing creeping into her eyes as she thought back to the other night, when she had been sitting for hours atop hours, securely wrapped in Angel's arms, with her head resting against his broad chest, listening to the soft sound of his voice. She wouldn't trade it for the world, with all its simplicity. "We only got to the mansion like an hour before sunrise," she finally told her friend.

Willow's eyes widened. "You spent the *night*?"

Buffy frowned, somewhat thrown by her reaction. "Whatever night's left of it, yeah…Will, we didn't do anything," she shook her head, "and besides, even if we did…it's okay now, remember?"

Willow eyed her for a moment. "I…I guess," she stuttered. "It's just…weird."

"What is?" the blonde eyed her friend, not quite understanding what she had in mind.

"You and Angel," she gestured with her hand at the Slayer sitting in front of her. "I mean…I'm happy for you, absolutely, but it's also strange…that we're talking about you...as a *you*...as if you never broke up."

Buffy swallowed, then sighed heavily. Willow didn't have the slightest idea of how it really felt for her. But she could never know, because it wasn't something that could be ever put into words. It was certainly not easy though. Every single time the Slayer looked into the vampire's eyes, her subconscious would see the same eyes pleading with her to take his hand, the look of utter horror and treachery in those soft brown eyes as his lips had formed her name one final time before the vortex had closed on him. She had to conjure all her inner strength for her eyes not to tear up then and there in front of Willow and Oz, because if she began, she would never be able to stop, and she knew that. She wished she could make the last several months go away, she wished that more than anything. And it wasn't even just several months now, it was nearly a year, which only made it all worse. Almost a year of her life, gone on endless crying, anguish, mourning and regret, and not a second of that time, would she ever be able to retrieve.

And Angel felt it too, she knew that, she could see it in his eyes. They could never change it, they could never go back to normal 'as if it had never happened', not even in a million years. They could have 'normal' again, in a while, where wounds that could heal would heal, but said normal would never be the same one they had had prior to her seventeenth birthday. That innocence was lost on them forever, never to be regained, and what they were having now was far from being normal again. They were trying to heal each other, soothe the pain of the past they had inflicted upon each other, love each other as much as it only could be done, but under no circumstances, could they be again what they had been all that time ago. It wasn't even a question. What they had become after his return from Hell was something they had never been before; it was something else, something new, something real, that demanded a lot more from both of them together and each one of them individually. They couldn't be so careless, so innocent and so free like they used to, before their entire world had caved down on them. A part of her wanted that, craved for that freedom again, while the other part also knew that going forward was never about the past. The past was made for memories, while the future, as hard as it was, and would be, was all about the vampire that was waiting for her in the mansion on Crawford Street to return from school, ready to take her out on a road unknown to them both.

In response to her friend's observation, the Slayer merely shrugged, offering a flimsy smile.

"Buffy," her Watcher's voice almost started her. "Good, you're back," he was rapidly advancing upon the trio. "How was patrol last night? Faith already checked in with me this morning. Any reason why you didn't?" he wanted to know.

"Umm…one of us has school?" Buffy suggested to her defense.

"One of you also has recesses," Giles retorted. "She said she only staked three vampires. It being Faith, it is rather out of the ordinary," he remarked.

"Same here," Buffy raised her hand. "Angel and I never even met *one* vampire, umm…leaving Angel aside, that is," she half-smiled. "Giles, what was with the sudden emergency?"

The Watcher rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. "Seems my premonition was wrong."

"You think so?" his Slayer shot him a look.

"It's good," Oz shrugged, feeling the sudden need to insert his opinion. "No end of the world," he nodded, "I'm good with that."

"Couldn't say it better myself," Buffy asserted cheerfully with a nod.

"Well, perhaps the two of you should get together next time and do the research," Giles offered.

"Then you would slay?" Buffy returned him a knowing look, with a hidden smile behind her childishly challenging gaze.

The Englishman held the Slayer's gaze for several seconds, then sighed, shaking his head. "I'm leaving today, it's a good thing I caught you before, so I could let you know," he informed, completely changing the subject.

The Slayer frowned, her eyes filling with mild panic. "What leaving? No one's leaving, no one mentioned leaving, leaving where exactly?" the words raced out of her on one breath, reflecting her perplexity from her Watcher's abrupt announcement.

"It's only a couple of days, Buffy," he promised her, inwardly grinning at her little girl's reaction. "It's a Watchers' retreat in the woods, I'll be back shortly, don't worry."

"Oh. That leaving. That leaving is okay with me." Suddenly, her grave expression broke into a beam. "That means that being Watcher-less I can do whatever I want?"

Giles groaned, knowing all the while it had only been a matter of time until she would pop up that line. "For a matter of fact, I expect you to train and keep up with your slaying duties," he blew the air out of her bubble. "And pouting isn't going to help," he addressed her change of expression as he walked off back into his office to finish packing.

"There goes my time off," the Slayer sighed.

"Haven't you been having those quite a lot lately?" Willow remarked, quirking a brow.

"It grows on you," her friend replied evenly.

"You could meet up with Faith," the redhead suggested somewhat hesitantly. "You could use some bonding time," she shrugged.

"I don't know," Buffy admitted, "Faith and Angel don't really mix, and since he's my first priority right now, same goes for spending time with him. I'll take a rain check on the bonding for now."

"Hi, guys," Cordelia strode into the library with her boyfriend in tow, at once, drawing the attention of Oz, Willow and Buffy, who's smile instantly vanished as if it never was to the sight of the brown-haired boy. She snatched her bag from the chair she had left it on, and started rapidly making her way towards the door.

Xander grabbed her arm as she marched past him, causing her to stop.

"Are you *ever* getting over that?!" he demanded, when she shot him a glare in return.

"Getting *over* that?!" she wiggled her hand out of his grip. "We're way past first grade here, Xander, or at least, I am. It's *not* the classic case of 'I'm not talking to you till you give me back my Barbie', so I'm *not* getting over it!" she snapped, not tearing her eyes from his. "You *will* apologize, and you *will* stop spilling that crap about Angel on every chance you get, otherwise, pretend I don't exist." With that, she sharply whirled around and stormed out of the room.

"Hey," Buffy beamed, and climbed on Angel's bed, kicking her shoes off. "Are you okay?" she sat up, observing him with concern.

The vampire rotated on his other side to look at her. "I'm tired," he supplied.

But it wasn't enough for the Slayer. She put her hand to his forehead. "Just tired?" she asked doubtfully, and dropped her hand after assuring it wasn't either hot or damp. "You sure?"

He threw the bedcovers off of him and sat up, but was forced to stop in mid motion, seemingly due to an abrupt attack of dizziness, and brought his hand to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut, and digging the fingers of his other hand into the sheet.

"Angel!" Buffy was by his side in a moment and guided him back down on the bed. "Just tired, ha?" she observed, fixing the pillows behind his back. "Angel, what's wrong?" she inquired, stroking the sides of his face gently. He hadn't had any serious breakdowns in a while, and it more than worried her. When he averted his eyes at her question though, she sorrowfully picked it up. "You haven't been feeding," she stated the obvious. "And last night's patrol only made it worse."

He swallowed, unable to direct his gaze at her.

"God, Angel, I thought I could trust you with that!" she groaned, pulling back in frustration. "You lied to me!" she exclaimed, looking at him with disbelief. "You've been *lying* to me the entire time, you're not feeding, you're getting weaker instead of getting stronger…"

"I've been feeding," he whispered.

"Like what, every tenth time?" the Slayer threw her hands in the air. "I can't believe you," she hissed, and reached for her bag.

She opened it, and resolutely handed Angel the blood container, wrapped in a brown paper bag. "I want to see you empty it. *All* of it," she charged, "and right now. I mean it," she added, when he didn't make a move to comply with her orders.

Angel received the container from her hands with a sigh of defeat, keeping his eyes down from her the entire time, and she wordlessly stood up from the bed, and left the room.

After a minute, she was back, holding a glass, which she handed to the vampire.

Slowly, and reluctantly, he opened the container, and spilled some of the liquid into the glass his girlfriend was holding. Then, he put it away.

Buffy swallowed, and neared the glass to his lips, keeping it there until he took his first sip, after which, he finally gave in and closed his palm around it, holding it himself and gradually emptying it from the blood.

When the vampire finished drinking, the Slayer took the empty glass from him, and put it aside next to the container. When she turned back to him, her gaze was softer, more compassionate…loving. She leaned closer and planted a soft kiss on his forehead, cupping his cheek. "I just want you to get better, Angel," she whispered, her tone filled with traces of despair. "I'm not doing this to hurt you," her voice cracked, as tears welled up in her eyes, "I need you to understand that…please…"

The vampire gazed at her ruefully. He reached out his hand and combed it through her golden hair, stopping on the back on her head and guiding it down to his chest.

The Slayer gave in with a sigh, and lay down, encircling her arms around him, as he enveloped his around her small frame, cuddling her on his chest like a child.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, casting his eyes down on her blond head and mildly brushing his lips over her crown.

Buffy sniffled, and reinforced her embrace around him. "There are some things I can't give you time for, Angel," she remarked softly, inwardly fully acknowledging that the bad parts weren't anywhere near behind them just yet.

The End

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