Tabula Rasa

by lwbush

Sixth season Stories and theories are like belly buttons. Just about everyone has one. Here's mine. A/X and B/X. Xander's POV. Rating changed due to some language in chapter four.

4. The Angel Angle

Tabula Rasa

By Lori Bush

Disclaimer: The Buffy gang is property of Joss. 'Nuff said.

Rating: Due to language, especially in this part, I'm changing it to R

Pairing: B/X and A/X. I can't ignore the guy's very real feelings… A tiny bit of A/C (what can I say? I like those two together).

Spoilers: "The Gift," in a major, if you don't wanna know, please don't read this, way. I already spoiled it for one person who was trying to stay pure (I'm really sorry, really), and I don't want to blow it for anyone else.

Summary: Sixth season ideas and stories are like belly buttons. Pretty much everybody's got one. Here's mine.

Author's Notes: This was a hard part for me to write – I was balancing things carefully, but the guys think I got it right, and I trust them, so here it is. In answer to some of the comments they gave on this – yes, a lot of the characters do stupid things in this story, meaning well. A lot of them do the same on the show. A lot of us do the same in life…

Dedicated to the harem, like usual. Welcome to C-Man, the newest member.

~**~

~4~

~**~

The Angel Angle

~**~

Technically, I was in charge at the job site when Carter wasn't there, so I let myself go early and left Jerry in my place. The way the guys were treating me, I kinda figured none of them would rat on me. For that day, at least, I'd achieved a god-like status. And I wasn't exactly getting a whole lot done, anyway.

I thought about going home to shower before I went to the mansion, but I really didn't need to chance getting horizontal with Anya right now. Oh, man, I was thinking of sex as a negative thing. Death was surely only minutes away. Without even realizing how I'd ended up there, I shut off my car in front of the mansion. Lately, I seemed to be doing a lot of things, like driving across town, without paying attention to them. Good way to get a ticket – anywhere but Sunnydale, home of the blind, deaf and dumb police force.

Cordelia let me in, looking me carefully up and down. "Well, the sweaty, stinky look works for you, I guess." I knew I hadn't done enough work that day to break a sweat, but I also knew that saying anything nice to me would probably cause Cordy physical pain. She'd admitted she missed me earlier, but now her defenses were back up, and not about to drop again.

"Good to see you, too, Cor. Where's Deadboy?"

She turned, and without a word walked down the hall. I surmised I was expected to follow her, so I did.

While I was walking, I noticed stuff. I noticed Cordy had on old jeans and sneakers, and looked kind of dusty. I noticed the floors in the hall looked really shiny, more so than they should have after two years as an unoccupied property. "Been cleaning?" I asked my ex.

She nodded. "Angel feels he needs to be here for Buffy, so he and I have been fixing the place up to stay a while if she wants him to." Oh, joy. She rolled her eyes. "Little Miss Back From the Dead calls, and he drops his whole business and comes running." Man, her tone reminded me of my own, whenever I'd talk about Angel and Buffy. Interesting.

I'd've pursued it further, but I was briefly agape at the sight before me. Angel, in sweats (sweats! And grey, even, not black!), down on his hands and knees, cleaning out the fireplace. There were smudges of ash on his face, and his fingernails were dirty. He was wearing Reeboks, for crying out loud! He looked – human.

"Oh, you're here," he said, pulling me from my zoned state. He handed Cordelia a box of cinders. "Would you put this outside, Cor?" Hey, that was my nickname for her. He walked over to me, hand outstretched. His palm was black with soot, and I looked at it, then up at him. I know he thought I was being my usually snotty self, refusing to shake, but then he looked down. "Oh. Ooops." He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hands, then tried again. I took his hand and shook it firmly. "I've heard what's going on from Willow," he started, motioning me to a chair and getting right down to business, "Let's hear your version." Before I could gather my thoughts, exactly, or even sit down, he growled, "And why the hell didn't anyone call me to tell me she was back, anyway?"

"Excuse me," I answered, in a similar pissed-off tone, "But we were dealing with Buffy-without-a-clue. She had to re-establish herself with Dawn, relearn who her friends were, and cope with the fact that we all knew more about her than she did. Calling her undead ex-boyfriend, who became evil because of her, bringing on one of the most miserable years of her life and ending with her sending him to hell, not to mention who almost broke apart her closest friendships after he came back and she kept it a secret – let's just say, we had other priorities." We were nose to nose now, staring each other down. Cordelia stepped in, gently prying us apart.

"Nice to know that Slayers die and are reborn, but some animosity never changes," she said wryly. Glaring at us both, she went on. "Now that we've blown out all the excess testosterone, could we discuss the reason we're here?"

As I often do, I backed down first, although far from graciously. "Sorry, Angel – we should have called." Cordy gave me a thin-lipped nod of approval, then looked expectantly at her boss. I was surprised when he gave in as well.

"Yeah, well, I guess there was a lot else going on." He actually looked to my ex-girlfriend, and was rewarded by and encouraging smile.

"Well, if I can trust you two boys to play nice, now, I'll go put this outside." Picking up the box in her arms, she turned on her heel and strode confidently from the room, and I couldn't help but notice that Angel was watching her retreating figure with the same appreciation I'd shown for it in the past. I so wanted to ask, but I was here with another purpose, and that would just sidetrack us longer. I heard Angel cluck his tongue, though, and saw his affectionate smile. Relationship things could be complicated for someone other than me, I realized. I dropped into the chair.

"Buffy came back without a clue as to anything that had happened before she died," I dove in.

Soul man sat across from me. "Like a baby? I mean, how not knowing was she?"

"More like an amnesia victim. She remembered how to slay – if anything, she's better than before. But she made a lot of random associations – thought Giles was her dad, thought I was her boyfriend. She got over the Giles thing, but she's kinda stuck on the idea that we belong together." I hung my head. The end of that scenario might be just around the corner, but that didn't mean I was totally accepting that fact quite yet.

"And you have a girlfriend," he said, almost as a question.

"A fiancée – who deserves better than I've managed to give her lately."

"You still love Buffy?"

From the doorway, Cordelia snorted. "Stupid question much? Is the sky blue? Is the grass green? Do you need regular plasma to survive? He's always loved Buffy. When he was with me, even when he was cheating with Willow, we were just warm bodies who could fill in for the Slayer."

I jumped to my feet. "Not fair, Cor. I really cared about you – and Willow too, as stupid as that sounds after what I did to both of you. I love Anya. It's just…" I shrugged, unable to find the words.

Angel smiled, apparently sympathetic. "It's just Buffy." He knew. I could tell. For the first time, I realized how much he and I actually had in common – outside of the whole breathing issue, that is. She was a part of us – in our blood. I shuddered involuntarily at the mental picture of what that actually meant with her and Angel when the whole "Slayer's blood saving him from death" thing flashed through my memory. But the man – vampire – across from me right now knew what I was going through better than anyone else could. I smiled uncomfortably back at him.

"So…"

"So you go see her, she remembers her undying love for you, and I go back to the back burner, where I belong. I may not marry Anya, though. I mean, like I said, she deserves a good guy, and I'm getting the feeling that I'm not him. But Buffy in love with you, me alone and miserable – all would be right with the world." Okay, I'm not bitter, huh?

"Buffy and I can't be together, Xander. You know that. What if my coming back does more damage than good?"

I wasn't angry anymore, or bitter, or anything but numb by this point. I shrugged again. "I'll be here to pick up the pieces until she's ready to move on with someone else, just like I always am." I turned, and was nearly out the door when Cordy caught up with me.

"You breaking up with Anya?"

I shook my head. "I just need a little space to examine why I can't give her my all. I'm not into making the same mistake twice." I looked at her, closely. There were a couple of faint streaks of grey in her hair, between the new blonde streaks. There were tiny wrinkles around her eyes. Life since Sunnydale hadn't been entirely kind to Cordelia Chase, I could tell. "I don't want to hurt people, Cor, it just seems to be what I do."

"I'm not gonna make you feel better by saying you didn't hurt me, 'cos you did. But I returned the favor in spades, both before we got together, and after we broke up. Just because you're used to being treated badly, don't start thinking it's all you deserve. You're a pretty good guy, Xander Harris."

I cupped her face in my palm. "That is one helluva lucky vampire in there. First he had Buffy, now he's got you. I gotta say, he gets all the best women." She didn't even bother to sputter and deny anything – sometimes I really wish I could manage to be as honest as Cordy. I kissed her on the tip of her nose. "Don't go giving him a moment of happiness and screwing up the world."

"Hey, I learned about loving without having from the best," she said, looking knowingly at me. She stepped back. "See you later?"

"Maybe." I knew I needed to go talk to Anya, before I lost my nerve.

~**~

She was at the Magic Box. Giles had been pressured into "offering" his apartment for the happy reunion, and Anya'd agreed to close down the shop for him. I knew they were expecting me at the big unveiling, but I also knew they wouldn't mind starting without me. Or finishing without me. There were some things that were better not seen and heard, and this was probably one of them. I had a strong feeling several people there would completely understand my absence, and to my own surprise, I was sure Angel would be one of them. I steeled my resolve, and went inside.

"Xander," she greeted me enthusiastically. "I understand Angel is here and meeting with the others. I didn't expect to see you." I looked at her with love. She didn't always understand me, and I was about to confuse her again, I was sure. I smiled a humorless smile.

"Yeah, Buffy's gonna be back with her soulmate," I said, as if I didn't care. "We need the real Buffy back." God, that almost sounded convincing, like I thought there was something wrong with the Buffy we had now. "An, we need to talk." Shit – I started off wrong. I swore I wouldn't use that damned phrase. Checking out her expression, I once again blessed Anya's lack of cultural references. She didn't know what that meant, exactly. "I love you," I began.

"Oh, Xander, I love you too." She wrapped herself around me, as I bit the inside of my cheek. Let's make this a little harder – as if this wasn't hard enough. I pushed her gently away.

"We need to talk." Geez, you already said that, dork-o. "An, you've come so far from when I first met you, you know that?" She nodded. "I think you're the greatest. And you deserve the best, too." I was getting through this. I'd mentally prepared a script, and I was doing well. The doorbell tinkled, and a customer walked in.

Anya went into shopkeeper mode. "Welcome to the Magic Box. We have a special today on toad's eyes and all our books on levitation are half off. Is there anything in particular I can show you?"

Great – I could start dwelling on my upcoming regrets. It helped, actually, knowing I wasn't doing this for Buffy. She was probably, at that very moment, awakening to the horror that she'd actually thought she was interested in me in a romantic way. And it wasn't like I planned to break up with An – just take a little cooling down period, to examine what was wrong with me, that I could even think about another woman when this lovely creature wanted to be mine, and mine alone. Y'know, the longer this guy stayed in the store, preoccupying Anya, the easier it was going to be to convince myself to do the easy thing, instead of the right thing, and just let it slide. She didn't need to know I'd ever had doubts. Buffy – well, she wouldn't be Buffy Now anymore, and while I didn't think she'd end up back with Angel, I was pretty sure she wouldn't be interested in me, either. Not that that was a bad thing, I guess. I didn't deserve her either.

What was this guy doing – examining each individual toad eye for the right one, or what? Anya smelled a sale, and wasn't going to let him get away with his wallet intact. Just then I heard the squeal of car tires outside, and the door burst open. "Xander!" Cordelia screamed, "Get your butt out here, now! Buffy's trying to kill Angel!"

~**~

I got most of the story on the way to Giles' place. It seems that Buffy wasn't told anything about what was to go down, since Willow figured that the shock of seeing her eternal love would be stronger that way, and more likely to resurrect her old memories. Will and Tara invited Buffy to go out for dinner with them, and then they all went to the apartment. Cordy and Angel were waiting.

Willow apparently told Cordy she'd started acting weird before they went in the door, saying they needed to be careful, her senses were on alert. Giles let them in, and walked them to the living room, where Deadboy sat. Buffy flew at him, and if Cordy hadn't tackled her, she'd have staked him for sure. Everyone was screaming, and fortunately, Tara had the presence of mind to throw a freezing spell on the Slayer, but it wouldn't hold long, and it about wore her out just to do it the one time. Angel, being stubborn, refused to leave, although he did go to another room to avoid the looks Buffy was giving him. The quick consensus was that they needed me to talk to her.

When I got there, she was still immobile, which gave a minute or two with Willow. "If you need to, can you reproduce that spell?" I asked her. She nodded. "Oh, by the way, Wills, great idea to bring Angel here to bring the old Buffy back. You might have just warned her, at least, what he was."

My pal's lower lip was quivering, and I gave her a quick hug to let her know all was forgiven. I had a feeling she was upset enough at herself, and my ragging on her wasn't going to help. "You won't let her dust him, will you?"

I was genuinely hurt. Then I realized that no one but myself was party to my revelations about Angel earlier. "Naw," I scoffed, "it's not nearly as much fun to call Spike names." I grinned, and Willow almost smiled. "Time to go stop the loose cannon again."

I saw something in Buffy's eyes when I entered the room, but she was still stuck in position, her hand over her head, holding a stake in readiness. It wasn't too much longer before she grunted, and nearly fell into my arms. "Hi," I said, catching her.

"Love to stay, but I have a vampire to dust. He must have hypnotized Giles, got him to…"

"Whoa, killer, calm down. That's Angel, and he's okay."

She pulled away from me, honestly irritated with me for the first time since her return. "Are there any vampires in this town you think it's permissible for me to kill?"

"You know it isn't like that…"

"No? You stop me from killing that cold blonde creep who had his hands all over my sister. Now you're telling me this guy is okay, too. Well, Dawn isn't here to protect this one, and I want to know why you won't let me stake him. Like, you know, it's my job to do?" She began pacing, angry energy in her every step.

It was almost tempting to let her do it. Cruel irony was for once going after someone else. But I really didn't want to see Angel as dust – besides the fact it would destroy two of my favorite women. Cordelia obviously cared deeply for him – and if Buffy ever came fully back – well, I shudder to think what it would do to her.

"Buffy, Angel has a soul." She stopped pacing. "He was cursed, and now he remembers and suffers for everything his demon did in the days before his soul was returned. He works for the White Hats – and unlike Spike, his motives are actually pure. I may have never liked him much, but I know he's a good guy – in pretty much every sense of the word."

"Why didn't you like him?"

How should I answer that question? Was there any good reason to lie – outside of every good reason? Oh, hell. "We were both in love with the same girl. He got her. I was jealous." If I didn't look up, she wouldn't see it in my eyes.

But this was Buffy – she may not have her memories, but she was still pretty smart. "You told me Willow was going to do something that might help me – what did you say? – 'remember some of what I've left behind.' He was what you meant. It was me, wasn't it? You loved me, but I chose him?" She pulled away from me. "Even if you're right, and he's got his soul and is good – and I don't see why you'd lie to me about that – why? He's still a vampire. I'm a Vampire Slayer. Why?" She was crying, and I was at a loss what to do, or say.

"Buffy…" I reached for her, to calm her down, but she stepped away.

"No!' she yelled at me. "You loved me, but you let me get involved with a relationship that anyone could see would clearly lead to tragedy. I'm a goddamn Vampire Slayer!" She was shaking. "Willow lied to me to get me here – she wanted me to fall back in love with him, is that it? You were willing before, and are going again, to let me go – to him? My so-called friends want to set me up for a fall, again? Maybe I'm glad I don't remember who and what I was. My life was so screwed up. Get out! GET. OUT."

She could break me into little pieces if she wanted to – I felt it wise to do what she demanded. Angel was waiting outside the door. "I take it that went well?"

That sounded like one of my lines. "She hates me. She hates Willow. She hates you. She'd probably hate Cordy if she'd had time to introduce herself before Buffy went postal on you. I'm thinking things couldn't get much worse. Maybe we can track Giles down, and she won't kill him before he manages to talk to her."

"No. I'll talk to her."

I looked at him incredulously. "You likin' the nickname 'Dusty,' Deadboy? 'Cos I don't see her and any piece of wood and you as having a long future in the same room."

He shrugged. "It's actually less complicated than our relationship was before. When I came to visit her after Joyce died, and we kissed, I knew it was over. This makes it a little easier to sort things out." I didn't know he'd even seen her after her mother died. Tonight had been like a case of Cracker Jacks; there was a surprise for every customer.

"It's your funeral," I offered.

Okay, he actually grinned. This was getting spooky. "Been there, done that." I grinned back. Scary – I could get to liking this guy.

Suddenly, I remembered that Anya had offered me a major session of makeup sex tonight, and it was late. Very late, and she was going to be very pissed. And I really needed to have that talk with her, anyhow. This was getting better and better. "Uhmm, Angel? Maybe you could talk Buffy into staking me, instead. I'm sure it'd be preferable to whatever's waiting for me when I get home."

~**~

An, we have to talk…

No, that one sucked. I'd already established that fact. Besides, I'd used it twice earlier.

Anya, before I begin, I want you to know it's not you, it's me.

Ick. She'd run off in horror before I even got to the point. It was so – I dunno, romance novel or something.

I bet you're wondering where I've been all evening.

Okay, if I keep her away from the butcher knives in the kitchen, maybe. She knew damn well where I'd been all evening, and this wasn't about that, after all. I'd already given up on the whole Buffy thing (what does this make, the millionth time in my young life?), and needed to focus on my own failure as a boyfriend. Even if nothing would ever come of it, I was seriously drawn to another woman, and I needed to get my act together before I could marry Anya, or anyone.

Maybe I should just buy her a nice, new, very sharp butcher knife and have done with it.

I briefly wondered where I developed the talent for driving without once thinking about where I was going. This was the second time today I'd done that. Maybe my car had a mind of its own. In this town, stranger things have happened. "Sleep tight, Christine," I murmured to it as I locked its doors in the parking space outside my apartment building. No need to antagonize it, if it did. Maybe I could fix Christine up with Malcolm, Willow's computer flame…

I was way off the deep end. This went beyond mental babbling to mental instability. Or it would, for most people. I really think that insanity is the term the unaware use for people who deal with reality without filters. They're safer locked up – the demons and such probably leave them alone there, too.

But arranging a blind date for my automobile was easier to deal with, mentally, than telling my ex-demon girlfriend I needed some time to reconsider our relationship. What the hell was I doing?

I stood nervously outside the door, key in my hand, still working on the proper opening line. Finally, I shrugged, figuring it'd come to me when I saw Anya. I went inside, but the apartment was dim, lit only by a candle, and even that was blocked by the figure - Anya's, it appeared - leaning over it. Then she turned to look at me, and I saw the veiny face of Anyanka, and my opening line was clear:

"What the fuck is going on here?"