The Angel Chronicles
Darla
Beautiful
Liam had never seen someone so beautiful. And this wasn't him trying to get into bed with her. Not that he would mind bedding her. She was truly beautiful. It baffled him exactly why she was in a place like this. He'd caught glimpses of her earlier, when he was fighting. She was smiling brightly at him, her eyes gleaming and he returned the smile through an inebriated haze.
He grabbed someone's hair and slammed their head down onto the table. Hard. He felt their nose crunch as he slammed it down and it gave way to the rest of his face. He laughed loudly and then took another swig of his beer and revelled in the bubbles of it and the foam. It dulled everything. Made everything seem less real.
Except for her beauty. If anything it made her more beautiful and more unattainable. She sat there, prim and proper so out of place yet so untouchable. As if any man who dared go within a foot of her would collapse into ash instantly.
She wore an elegant and intricate dress which indicated someone of high status. Another puzzle as to why she was eating in this Irish pub which contained low lifes and men with no future. And him. He mainly came for the drink and the fact that a fight was never far off in a place like this. He liked the fight. It cut through the inebriation so clearly. Okay, not so clearly, on more than one occasion he'd miss because he had bad judgement and would be returned with a hard hit to the head because he had a lack of reflexes. But it made him feel… Alive.
He grinned widely at the woman before taking a big swig from the tumbler and joyfully grabbed a random, already unconscious, person and punching him in the face. He laughed giddily and then burst into a bawdy Irish song at the top of his voice.
The next thing he knew the bar tender's meaty fist was coming at his face and then black…
Show Me The World
(AN: I know this isn't exactly the way that it happened but I just thought that this was so characteristic I couldn't help myself.)
Angel let the old graveyard caretaker drop to the ground and vamped out. He looked to Darla, his previous unsureness had disappeared and all that was there now was the suaveness that only Angelus possessed. He approached her with a predatory look on his face and she looked at him delightedly. He pulled her to him roughly and bent his neck to crush his lips against her own in an act of possession and they both battled for dominance, Darla finally letting the boy get his first victory.
He withdrew with a smirk clear on his 'angelic' face. A growl was at the back of his throat and he let it rip before drawing Darla near and looking deep into her eyes, searching. Then, apparently he found something because the growl disappeared and he captured her lips roughly again. Darla played along, giving him some leeway as he was new and then she would set her foot down later. As she surrendered to his rough and passionate kiss she thought. Much, much later.
"What do you want?' Darla asked sensually, looking up into his dark, dangerous eyes and he surveyed the graveyard before him before answering. She just looked at him as though she was hanging onto his every word. Which, at this stage, she was.
"I want to lay this town to waste. I want my name on their dying lips as they attempt to reach for their crosses and bibles. I want them begging me for their lives, I want them down on their knees begging me for forgiveness, for mercy. And then I want their blood." Angel said, the hunger clear in his eyes and Darla looked up at him, completely and utterly delighted at what she'd made.
"What else?" She asked, her eyes hungry for more and he looked down at her.
"I want you to show me the world." He said and bent down to capture her lips harshly again and she reacted with her hunger matching his own. Then he pulled away, fire dancing in his eyes, "And we can destroy it together."
Like Your Mother
Everyone always said how much Connor looked like Angel. But, as he looked at his few day old son sleeping in his cot, he realised that he looked exactly like Darla. It wasn't the looks per see, just something about him. Every time that Angel looked at him he saw Darla and what she did for Connor. He would never be able to thank her for what she did and it would be something that he would wish he could do for the rest of his un-life.
Connor moved to his other side and yawned. If Cordelia had been present she would've squealed and insisted on taking pictures of Connor. But now all that was here was him and his son. He loved his son so much that sometimes he would be so paranoid that something would happen to him. He would get so worried that he would lose him.
And he would look at him and see Darla. See what she did for him. For Connor. And whenever he would move or shift in his cot or yawn he would see Darla in her last moments. And he would feel his chest constrict and tears threaten that he would never let through the barrier. And then Connor would just look at him and he would feel it all over again.
One day, one day he would let all of his barriers free and just look at his son and cry. But today wasn't that day. Maybe that day would happen, but not anytime soon. He couldn't show weakness yet. It was too soon to show weakness.
Maybe one day, when Angel had gotten rid of all of the threats like Holtz and Wolfram and Hart. But until then he couldn't let down the barriers. He love his son so much that he wished that he could get rid of all the evil in the world for him. But he knew that he couldn't do that. But he wished that he could.
Connor rubbed his nose with his pudgy fist and Angel felt his chest restrict again and he just wondered exactly how someone could look so much like his mother.