Ashes
Sunnydale, California USA, 1997
For 150 years she was by my side. Lover, Sire, Companion. She was my existence, my purpose, and my un-life. And I killed her for another.
I had not seen her for 100 years. It was Japan, 1901; I thought I had left them in China, Darla, Spike and Drusilla. I didn't think I would see any of them ever again, I didn't want to.
I was at the wharf, hiding, I was hungry, I was always hungry then. Then I smelled her. A mixture of lilacs, silk and the unmistakable sent of Darla. I crouched lower and peered over the top of the cardboard boxes I was hiding behind. She swept past, her blond hair piled high, her small frame incased in a silk Kimono. I had wanted her then, as I had for my entire undead existence. But I held myself still and watched as she walked away.
She was gone now, nothing more then dust, soon even that would be gone. I was the one that ended her, to save a Slayer. A girl I now cared for even more then I ever cared for her. Darla.
The Bronze was quiet now; glass and bullet casings littered the floor. I made my way carefully around the rubbish and knelt down besides a pile of ash. I reached out and slowly ran my hand through the particles. I reached inside my jacket and pulled out a small jar. I gathered everything, every last speck and closed the lid tight.
I'm going to scatter her ashes on the wind and give her the view she always wanted.