Hello There! This is a story that has been circling my mind for a while now. A Xander/Angel tale had some things gone different (Like, Xander being gay, as one) And how his presence on Angel's live could have changed things. It starts in BtVS, but it will focus more towards Ats with time. I plan to make it very close to the canon timeline and event wise, but with a Xander twist. Mainly Angel/Xander, but also other canon couples will be featured, with a dash of Xander/Larry in the beggining to give more flavor. So please, enjoy yourself if you like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing! Exept some plot-points and all the gayness (Though I really don't own that, then how could there be Angel/Xander slash then?)

Chapter One

A man in a black long coat stared to a bus ticket that he held. Right in front of his eyes. If someone had been paying attention to him, that someone would have realized that the man have been standing there, immobile, with the bus ticket in front of his eyes, for forty four minutes. But there was no one watching the coated man, cause people in Sunnydale with a normal sense of self preservation knew that wandering the eastern bus terminal in the night was a fairly wantony plea for death. Firstly, night as a whole was dangerous in Sunnydale, playing russian roulette with a revolver and five bullets would be considered safer by some, but you could get away with a night stroll in the more visited areas (But no 100% free of death, if you were careless enough to wander off, that was bye bye for you. Unless, that's so, an exceptionally peppy and Pettit blonde girl came to your rescue) Secondly, Bus terminals anywhere are dangerous places. So, it was no surprise that a Sunnydale bus terminal was an extremely un safe place to hang around. Because some hungry, things, lurked in the night.

Of course, that is, people would never say that non-humans were the cause of all the night mortality rate (higher in places like the bus terminal and the ice skating ring, for some reason) but they knew that there were things on the night that would kill you. And since no one would dare to say the "V" word and sound like a complete lunatic, the town reached the unanimous and unspoken decision to blame everything that happened in the night to the gangs on PCP. Funny thing, that real PCP dealers would come to Sunnydale thinking it was the Dorado of PCP mass production (even when the Mayor's office culled the reports to avoid mass hysteria, PCP related violence in Sunnydale was the highest in all So–Cal.) And found themselves being the snack of newly awakened fledgelings. Sunnydale actually was culling the PCP dealer population. So being the home of the Hellmouth might have a silver lining after all. So, most people in Sunnydale kept away from the lonely places at night, and as such, no one except the coated man was on the Sunnydale Easter Bus Terminal (the "N" had fallen a while ago, it did gave the sign a festive air about) If someone else were to be in that place at that hour, it could have thought of the man in the coat as careless (why the other person would be there is an hypothetical scenario, cause it would be, you know, careless of them) But this man was not a man, it was a vampire, but with a soul. A vampire with a soul that had spent the last fifty minutes staring intently at his bus ticket in the middle of the night.

A vampire with a soul is something extremely rare, and that would be an understatement. The actual ensouled vampire population in the world ascended to the lame sum of one (1) (At least at this point of time. The doubling of this number a few years from now would actually cause a lot of chagrin to the first one. And some time after that, the original number would have triplicated, making the first two vampires with a soul yell "Really?". But that happens a while from now) So Angel, who happens to be THE vampire with a soul –for now– was in the bus terminal with a ticket, waiting for his bus. Brooding, as he so frequently found himself. But he had his reasons.

He didn't had that soul all the way through his vampiredoom. No, the soul (which in a crystal jar looks like a smoke–swirling thingy. Silvery, kind of pretty) was actually pushed into him as a curse by some wronged gypsies. One must say that before the soul Angel was known as Angelus, the Scourge of Europe. Sired by a member of the Order of Aurelius known as Darla –a blonde– Angelus became particularly a depraved and horrifying fiend, with a penchant for religious imagery in his killing and a taste for nuns. Expert in mind games, he took great pleasure in breaking the mind of their victims and reducing them to quivering crazed shadows of their former selves. Any vampire could kill, but only Angelus made his victims beg for death, they soon learned that ask for mercy was fruitless. A text book example would be Drusilla –more on her later–. Angelus was finally stopped by the doing of the Kaldarash clan in one blood chilling example of retribution for the death of their favorite daughter. Magda the Elder put the soul of the debaucherous Liam right back on his old body, suppressing the demonic conscience, and punishing the irishman for the sins of his demonic alter ego. Liam, in life, was no saint –he had lust, sloth and envy down –But no human soul deserved to suffer the memories of a depraved vampire as his own, and be drowned by guilt. But as a punishment, the gypsy curse was effective –if not as intended– with Liam back on his former body, Angelus was confined in the mind's back seat, forced to watch everything that Liam did. And after Liam accepted that he was a broken vampire, Angelus punishment really started to unfold, damned to be the observer of all the things –gross and just plain humiliating– that Liam –Now Angel– did to escape his vampiric sins and guilt.

Angel, in the next one-hundred years, had his highs and lows –mostly lows– adjusting to be a blood thirsty demon with a human consciousness. With his sins always present in his mind, Angel suffered every day, but still was unable to end his un–life, a battered boat adrift in a dark sea of despair. And it was then, almost one–hundred years after that he got his soul back, that a balance demon in a hawaiian shirt offered something wondrous. Redemption. As in any romantic narrative, his redemption had a really nice human shape, the newly called slayer –as in vampire slayer, superpowered girl, no friends, dies young– Buffy Summers –Blonde, who in the future does die, but she manages to recover from that ailment. Twice. Thanks to her friends–. He helps her in her mission to ward the world from darkness, and they fall in love –quite poetic, the slayer and vampire thing–. Then they make love, and in that moment Angel experiences for the first time in his life what true fulfillment is, and he loses his soul. That gypsy curse happened to have a breaking clause: a moment of true happiness, and the cursed would lose his soul. Gypsies seem to be have a flare for the melodramatic, but are awfully impractical. Thanks to this Angelus was back, and his first victim happened to be Jenna Kalderash, descendant of the tribe, stationed in Sunnydale to make sure that the curse would never be broken –She failed– Then Angelus placed her body on the bed of her lover, luring him with a path of roses and candlelight to his morbid surprise. Rupert Giles' eyes opened wide when he saw Jenny's limp body on his bed, her eyes frozen in a horrified plea for eternity. Rupert Giles happened to be Buffy's Watcher.

But Angel's soul, after some more cruel and horrible games and an apocalypse attempt by Angelus, returned to his body thanks to Buffy's friend, Apprentice witch Willow Rosenberg –Future Witch of the West and lesbian– and Magda Kalderash, who gave her a little push –she lost the love for dramatics as a spirit, became more practical– But Buffy still had to stab the man she loved with a sword through the chest, sending him through a vortex to hell, and the fact that Xander –Buffy's friend, Future construction worker– failed to communicate that Willow was working on restoring Angel's soul didn't help. No one knew of this though, but this guilt started eating Xander from the inside out, leading him to make some rash decisions in order to set things right.

Angel eventually returned from that hell, mostly feral. Only Buffy knew of this at first, and she nursed him back to sanity. After that, they realized that the "us" that existed was no more, and with grief they knew that they weren't meant for each other. They had something so beautiful, unique. But that wasn't what they needed. They both could die any moment, and Angel, who had lived hundreds of years, couldn't stand taking her last years to himself. He wanted her to live the fullest she could, and she couldn't do that with him. They held each other closely as they swung slowly on the dance floor, the Prom Night banner waving on top of their heads. They held each other tight as they thanked the other silently. As a slayer and a vampire they just weren't meant to be, but the moments spent together couldn't be taken away.

Just one more thing remained, face the Mayor of Sunnydale –long story short, he wanted to become a ginormous demonic dinosaur and rule the world– The Sunnydale class of '99 rose to the challenge, and with a jointed effort and tons of explosives, the mayor and his followers became just blazing chunks of flesh. After the battle, Buffy and Angel's eyes meet through the smoke. That would be the last time they'd see each other –supposedly– And with a nod, Angel walked away, to the Sunnydale Easter(n) Bus Terminal. That is more or less the abridged version of what happened to Angel in the last couple of hundred years to this moment, where he held his bus ticket. Destination: L.A.

Los Angeles, though not in the ownership of a Hellmouth of its own, housed a fairly large demonic population, and the problems related to it. Angel thought that it would be the best place to continue his quest for redemption, and he would be close to Buffy, if she happened to need any urgent assistance, that is. Sometimes through the years in Sunnydale, his resolve in searching redemption faltered, and dark thoughts of nothingness assaulted him. Once, he was ready to become ashes in the sunrise, with Buffy at his side, but a miraculous snowing blocked the rays of the sun. That gave him another opportunity, maybe something –or someone– greater than him was watching his back. But now, again the dark thoughts were surrounding him. He didn't find himself strong enough to go on. For a long moment he toyed with the thought of just standing there until the sun rose, imagining himself crumbling to dust and become nothing. He found this thought almost relieving. But no, he couldn't just give up. He had the power to change things, he had the strength to fight and make good, so he just had to come up with the resolve to do it. His curse gave him that chance, to fight darkness with darkness. And he had a fate, the demon in the hawaiian shirt –goes by the name of Whistler– had told him so. He was a champion of good. He found it hard to believe in his darker hours, but the fact that some powerful force of good believed in him gave him hope and courage. But this sense of predestination made him angry about something else. Whistler, and his superiors, most likely knew that he would lose his soul, and he wondered if his relation with Buffy was just a test of character. He frowned as this thought, the bust ticket still in front of his face. Well, if it was a test, he was inclined to think that he passed, barely. He laughed hollowly on the silent bus terminal. All of this just made him feel like a pawn on a very large chess game that he sometimes didn't want to be part of. But he wouldn't quit. He had to find the will to fight, to do right as Angel to balance the evil he did as Angelus. It was only fair to the world, maybe not to him, but it would make the world a better place for everyone else.

It was not the happiest way to see things, but at least it seemed fair. Maybe the Powers that Be didn't care about his happiness, but maybe they knew the good he could do. And he would oblige to that, it was just. As his mind reached this conclusions, he didn't noticed the young man calling at him. This young man would have been though as careless by our hypothetical someone, and this time them would have been right. Xander Harris was the definition of careless, his danger proness becoming most bothering that worrisome. But he also fully accepted the existence of vampires, and since knowing is half of the battle, he had an edge to him. That edge equaled to running and squealing for help most of the time, but it did just fine most of the time. But that didn't explain what was he doing there, on the Sunnydale Easter(n) Bus Terminal.

"Are you there deadboy?" Xander waved his hand in front of Angel's face. And Angel, in an impressive display of mind wandering, just took notice of the newly arrived. As he did so, he changed his face from impassive, to bothered, frowning heavily to be more poignant. They didn't get along, and as much as Buffy tried to be a mediator, there was this deep seated uneasiness between the two of them. Angel didn't have anything against the boy –besides wanting to smack him from time to time for his sillyness– so it seemed that everything was Xander's fault. He had some theories, and these theories just confirmed his newly founded resolution of not hanging around teenagers. They were just too dense to handle, and Angel had just enough with himself.

"Xander. What do you want? My bus leaves any moment now" Angel decided to respond, better to get over with whatever this was. He never gave much thought to Xander before, Angel would like to say, but it was mostly that Angel wasn't sure how the boy worked. To his eyes, Harris was just a pile of contradictions and half truths, but unconditionally loyal to his friends. That last part was going to be put on trial on a few minutes.

"My oh my! A mighty master vampire in seek of redemption mounting the bus–mobile. This is to good to not make a joke..." And Angel was walking away –I don't have time for this, I will stand over there he thought- but a hand stopped him from leaving "Ok, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I won't joke about your precarious economic situation and your apparent hate of traveling on style" Angel faced him frowning harder, even as impossible as that sounded.

"You joked"

"Ok, give me that one for free, would ya?" Angel's mind wandered to comforting thoughts as he crossed his arms. Ok, if I break just one leg, that would not be that bad, right? Angel wondered if that was Angelus whispers on his head, but realized that Angelus' plans would include props, so maybe it was just him. "I.. I just wanted to tell you something" Angel attention was captured by the sudden change of tone in the boy's words, he didn't had to smell the anxiety on Xander either. His jaw was tight and his hands clenched in balls at his sides. He surely was distressed. His distress had reason, mind you. He was about to tell something, something that could lead to an untimely death –for non-Sunnydale standards, that is–.

"Did something happened to Buffy?" Angel asked suddenly worried. Xander in respond just smiled sadly as he shook his head a little bothered. "Not everything is about Buffy" The boy played a with the hem of his shirt and sighed heavily. Angel felt a mixture of curiosity and irritation at the boy in front of him. Clearly he wanted to tell him something, but it was most likely that the bus departed before Xander could mutter his words. Angel liked silence, but silence with another person was just uncomfortable.

"My bus is leaving soon Xander" Now the vampire was just plainly irritated.

"I'm sorry for sending you to hell" And that was a new one to Angel, 'he was shocked' would be to put it mildly. In reality he didn't even knew what the boy meant, that would change about now. "Last year... Before Buffy got stabby with you... Willow sent me to tell Buffy to stall you, that she was doing the ritual of restoration... I kinda changed that message" Angel nodded, it was the only sensible thing he could do. Other ideas, less sensible ones, were to punch the kid on the face, repeatedly. Angel towered a fair bit over the boy, so he decided just to stand there, menacingly. "I told her that the message was to kick your ass!". Xander finished with a lamely jab at the air accompanied by a nervous smile.

Angel just stared at the boy for a few moments, utterly motionless, his eyes seemingly darker than usual. He was upset, but mostly not because what Xander did. Angel was inclined to think that what the boy did wasn't of much consequence in the end, he would have probably ended in that hell anyway for what he had summoned, and he had come to accept that hell as punishment for what Angelus had done. Really he just wanted to forget about it all. But a part of him, probably called morbid curiosity, wanted to know why Xander, loyal friend to his friends, betrayed them, and Buffy above all, like that. Plus, the fact that the boy wanted him in hell, even when Willow was trying to restore his soul, was all kinds of unsettling.

"Why?"

"If you are thinking just for the kick of it, you are way off base pal!" Xander tried to laugh but came out like a sad whimper "She... she would have died trying to save you with that hope. I was not big with the believing that Willow could cast the spell, It, It just sounded impossible, y'know?" The boy paused trying to catch a breath, his voice was strangled and laced with embarrassment "I couldn't let the world end... Angelus had to die... you were gone, and... I knew it, you wouldn't come back. I actually snickered at Will's plan! I was so sure that you wouldn't come back. I was so sure... It made sense then. Willow's idea seemed like a death sentence, hey Buff! stall him until he kills you dead!. Then I was sure that giving hope to Buffy would had killed her. I knew Willow would fail, I knew that Buffy would had died waiting for Will to pull her mojo. I knew so many things that weren't true. I was wrong... You ended up on hell because of my lack of... of faith. And its killing me." Xander finished and took a deep breath of cool air, his eyes cast downwards

Angel reminded in uncomfortable silence for minutes, suddenly he wanted to flee. What Xander said, well, that sounded like a reason. On the down side, his choice of words was really odd. Angel could sense something lying under them, something utterly unspoken, and in no way rational. That made Angel uneasy, the fact that Xander had made his own turn to Angelus so upsetting to him. Angel decided not to dwell on that, so instead he focused on his literal words. He didn't believe Willow could cast the spell, and thought that Buffy would've died waiting for it to happen, he was sorry and very sad about everything... well that was the short version. He never had understood how Xander worked, but in that moment, he saw that he would make hard decisions, decisions in no way his to make, but hard nonetheless. What was for Angel to ask from him? Retribution? Regret?. Angel felt suddenly tired and more uncomfortable than ever. Xander was there, in front of him, standing pleadingly. Angel could withstand the most gruesome fights and the most cruel punishments, but this boy, in front of him, that happened to word-vomit all his guilt on him, was standing there, asking for something Angel didn't know if he could give

He didn't hated Xander more than he hated lumps on his blood. It was just something bothersome. And Xander's recent confession really didn't change anything for the vampire. He had gone to hell, he had came back, that was done and past for Angel. Xander played a part on that hell trip, but Angel couldn't see if that changed things so damn much. He could, on the other hand, try to be the bigger person, and as he did so, he found Xander's worries sound. Willow performing the gypsy curse, on her first try, was unbelievable. It shouldn't had happened, but it did –No one, not even Willow knew that this was because of two things. Firstly, she would grow to be very powerful and secondly, Magda Kaldersah decided to give her an spiritual hand– And the part about Buffy dying trying to save him? Angel took it with a grain of salt, but he couldn't venture a different answer with total certainty. And finally, the vampire could only agree with anyone trying to get rid of Angelus, and if anyone in Sunnydale had a right to do it, it was Buffy, Giles or Xander.

"I... I understand what you thought at the time" Angel finally responded letting out an unnecessary sigh. It was the only thing he could offer for now. He was just so damn tired of all of it. Part of him still wanted to punch Xander repeatedly on the face, not for the damage that he did to him, but for what he did to himself and his friends: basically, for his stupidity. He still didn't knew how Xander worked, but he was inclined to think that he understood him a little better at least. He contemplated Xander for a while, the boy was still facing downwards, maybe expecting a gruesome death. But Angel just couldn't come to hate him, to blame him for everything that went wrong. He was just a child. And why again, is this fight between good and evil being fought by children? Really?. Angel was more mature than Xander, but why did he still wanted to punch Xander on the face? Was because Xander had decided his death was the best course of action?. Was that what bothered Angel? The unseemly sidekick deciding his fate? Even if he had justification and reason? Was that too petty?. Just a bit. A sighing Angel shifted his weight uncomfortably. Xander just stood there in front of him, and it was then when the vampire noticed the boy's silent tears.

"Could you ever forgive me?" Xander looked defeated, yet his watery eyes still pleading to the vampire.

"Do you really need my forgiveness?" Angel asked in a very coarse, unsure voice staring downwards. For a strange reason, that plea of absolution made him feel like he mattered. For the first time in ages he wasn't the one asking for forgiveness. Someone was asking him for it. In that moment, Angel could see himself in Xander. He could count with one hand the times he had felt connected to a human being with the fingers of just one hand. The fact that Xander was one of them was strange.

"I.. was really mean to you, always. And you didn't really deserved it. It was about me... I was afraid and took it out on you. When Angelus came, I realized I couldn't hate you anymore, y'know, gone! But it took me some time to realize that you never deserved it. You are a good guy" The vampire meet the boy's eyes at those words, a bit surprised. "Angel, fangs and all, you are a good man". If Angel could have felt warm inside, he would have. That had been the kindest thing someone besides Buffy had told him. Xander, though an idiot sometimes, was a good person. A better person than Liam was at his age –or a few more years–. Buffy had a good friend caring for her, Angel could just hope that she could forgive the boy. He wanted to say something kind in return but he was interrupted. Our hypothetical someone would have been proven right about now.

"Don't you know this is a dangerous place?" Xander didn't knew if he heard the hissing voice or the sound of his head slamming the pavement first. The attacking vampire laughed mockingly at Angel, who just stared at him tilting his head. "What, aren't you gonna defend your boyfriend?" One must say, that this vampire just had risen four hours ago. He jumped at Angel. Angel staked him in one swift motion, and that was it. But the recently ashed vampire did cause damage. Angel's coat was covered in ash.

"Can you believe that guy? Just rude" Angel sighed as he dusted his coat. The mayor drawback of slaying vampires always was the dust. It got everywhere. He put the wooden weapon on his pocket and then extended a hand to the confused Xander, who wasn't sure what happened, only feeling his head throbbing.

As soon the young man got into his feet, the dizziness made him loose his step and had to support himself on Angel. The vampire could hear the fastening heartbeat on Xander's chest, his gasping, his shivering. He felt the boy's hands clenching the coat over his chest, and suddenly warm lips were on top of his.

"Shit" Xander quickly ended the kiss he started and leap backwards "That's me, Zeppoboy, messing everything up... No surprise there! Almost made it, but nooo, I had to do that" He told basically to himself, shivering on a mixture of embarrassment and cold, waving his hands spastically. Suddenly stopping his flailing he just said "I'm sorry, bye" And with that he run away.

Now, Angel was surprised, but he couldn't say that he didn't saw that one coming. He didn't knew how Xander worked, but he knew that the irritating boy had feelings for him. Not that Angel realized this by himself, he was quite oblivious to the matters of the heart, years of loneliness had positively numbed him. But Angelus knew very much about that topic, he adored to pray on the feelings of his victims. Manipulative, mocking, sick. When Xander, in a astonishing display of bravery –or stupidity–, put himself in front of Angelus' way to Buffy, he was able to make him retreat just with the power of his words. But Angelus also knew about the power of words. Slamming the boy against the corridor wall, he put his lips so close to Xander, that the boy almost stopped breathing. Angelus smiled ever so coyly, and placed a weightless kiss on Xander's cheek as he pressed himself against him. In that moment Xander indeed stopped breathing. Then Angelus, closing the space between his lips and the boy's ear, whispered venom into it.

"Xander, you are a mess, really. I kinda think not even I can do something to make you more fucked up. First, you go for the Slayer; sweet, perky, moist Buffy. But she would never spread her legs for someone like you, would she? But you really didn't even wanted what was between her warm thighs. Because at the end, you were to busy trying to get into mine. Really, do I have to explain how sick and twisted that is?".

But Xander responded to this words with such an empty chuckle that made Angelus, the scourge of Europe, back off. The boy's eyes were glassy and empty, Angelus wondered if he had broken him already. But Xander just straightened his shirt and keep staring at him, without saying anything. Angelus frowned confused and left. It was in that moment, that Xander knew that Angelus wasn't Angel at all, and that he had to get rid of him. He would make him pay for looking like him.

How did Angelus knew about Xander's feelings was something that Angel to this point hadn't figured out, but it was true. Maybe was the way he get nervous in front of him, maybe his constant bickering, maybe how he tried to win Buffy's affections to prove something. But this hard kiss on the Sunnydale Easter Bus Terminal just told Angel that he still felt something. And he just couldn't deal with that. And he wouldn't –for now–. The bus finally reached the station. As the brakes stopped the machine's motions, everyone inside went still. The driver had warned them that sometimes, gangs attacked the busses on the night. An elderly woman asked if they were gangs on PCP, the diver had nodded, and everyone fell silent. Angel stepped to the bus door but it didn't open, he rolled his eyes and held the ticket in front of him. The driver gulped. A few minutes later the door opened and Angel stepped in, he smiled at the garlic chain on the windshield, but his smile faded a little when he saw the flask of holy water on the dashboard. The driver just stared stoically at him behind thick glasses and a bushy beard.

"Good night" Angel muttered as he handed over his ticket. He took his seat, and since no one else was getting in, the bus continued his path, to the relieved sigh of the driver and the elderly lady. Though there was a vampire in the bus, this one had a soul. This vampire, wanted to make the world a better place.

As the bus faced the darkness of the road, Angel laid back on his seat and whispered goodbye, unsure for whom he meant it for.