2010
London, England
The Bronze
The music was unusually classical playing in the nightclub Spike and Oz had newly taken ownership. It was a purchase five years in the making. The Bronze was the usual club Dingoes Ate My Baby played in-between tours and it went up for sale when the owner decided to retire and move to Italy.
The remodelled dark and industrial club acted as the 'classy' and hip venue to throw Buffy's graduation party.
Many of the faculty staff and old alumni friends of Giles' were in attendance. Another handful of the friends Buffy had made during her years working at the British Museum, including the Director of the British Museum.
Mingling with her few friends, Buffy laughed and sipped the white wine in her hand. In the corner of her eye, Buffy tossed her gaze to Spike carrying a wooden box from the backfilled with bottles of wine.
Feeling her eyes, Spike's blue eyes met her face and slid a sultry smile across his lips.
Tearing away from the small romantic moment with her husband a small child raced between the guests like a whirlwind.
Placing the glass of wine aside, Buffy prepared herself as the boy sprinted in her direction though he was actually heading straight for the cake sitting on a table directly behind her.
Capturing the boy in her arm, Buffy lifted him off of the ground, "Whoa, Speed Racer! Where you do think you're running to?" She touched the tip of her son's nose.
Giggling a toothy smile, Liam Connor Pratt tried to shimmy out of Buffy's arms.
Pushing the dark brown shaggy hair from his forehead, Buffy smiled at her son, "No running, kiddo."
"I want caky!" Liam clapped his hands together. "Mama, can I have cake now?" His little lips frowned and stuck out his bottom lip. "Pwease?"
Taking a deep breath, Buffy heard the soft laughter of her guests, also finding the young five-year-old irresistibly adorable. Buffy couldn't deny him anything, "Okay, okay, but stop running, capisci (you understand)?"
Liam nodded his head and jumped out of Buffy's arms. He raced over to the table with the cake where his uncle Oz stood preparing to cut it.
Shaking her head with a small smile, Buffy felt a fractured pang in her heart recognising so much of his father in him. Pushing away her feelings of sadness that reminded her of the life she couldn't have, Buffy plastered a smile back onto her face, putting herself back into the waves of the party. This was a facade she had practised for a Demi-decade. It was easy to lie and pretend to everyone that her life and family was picture perfect. It was easy to look happy.
"That boy has you on a string," Giles appeared at Buffy's side.
Nodding in agreement, Buffy shook her head, "Don't I know it. I mean, you've seen the pout. I can't say no to anything."
Chuckling, Giles looked at his surrogate daughter, "Very much like his mother." He reached into the breast pocket of his suit coat and took out an envelope. "Congratulations, Buffy," he held the envelope in his hand. "I am so proud of you. You conquered one of your dreams."
Suddenly feeling bashful, Buffy looked away from him at a poor attempt to hide her reddening cheeks.
"Don't hide your face, my dear girl," he tilted her chin upwards to look at him with a soft index finger. "You are a strong, beautiful, and ferociously intelligent young woman. I am so proud to call you my family. And I am so proud to be a grandfather to that fine, funny, and wonderful little boy you are raising." He passed her the envelope.
Frowning, Buffy took the envelope and looked at him.
"Open it," he smirked.
Opening the envelope, Buffy had half expected to find a card with a check inside with a ridiculous amount of money that would go straight into Liam's savings for college. Instead, what Buffy had found was a piece of paper.
She unfolded the paper and read the first few sentences. Her eyes widened and looked at Giles.
"Are you serious?"
Giles smiled with a nod, "You deserve this. We couldn't think of anyone more prepared and perfect." Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Giles hugged her into his chest and kissed the top of her blonde head.
"May I cut in?" Spike stood behind Buffy.
Giles chuckled and removed his arm. He glanced above Buffy's head to the toddler smashing his hand into the side of the cake and smearing the evidence all over his face. "I'm going to see what young Liam is up to. Congratulations again, Buffy," Giles squeeze a hand on her shoulder and walked over to Liam at the table.
Spike took the hand at Buffy's side and brought her into his arms. "Dr Buffy Summers-Pratt," he took her hands and threaded his fingers with hers, "has a good ring to it." Spike pecked her lips in a brief kiss.
Hanging her arms lazily around his neck, Buffy pressed herself against him, "It does have an obnoxious academic overachiever ring to it… Doesn't it?"
"What's in the envelope?" He asked, after having watched the exchange from behind the bar as he was preparing more wine bottles to be open.
"Well," she softly cleared her throat, "you are looking at the new curator for the Anglo-Saxon, Norse, and Celtic collection at the British Museum."
Spike's eyes widened, "Are you serious?"
With an uncomfortable shrug, not fully processing her new good fortune. Buffy released a sigh, "As a heart attack."
"Buffy, that's bloody fantastic!" He held her face between his hands. "I'm so proud of you, luv. I knew it. You were always goin' to be some academic big wig. You know this officially makes you a nerd right?" He teased.
"Oh, I thought I set sail on the RMS Nerdy ship a long time ago."
Tucking a strand of blonde hair that fell from her elegant bun behind her ear, Spike tenderly cupped her cheek. Buffy was sure he was going to kiss her right then, but he didn't.
There was a bit of tension and awkwardness between them. There has been for the last five years. Neither of them ever addressed it, both afraid what sort of worms would be spilt from those cans.
They lived almost entirely separately—Amicably, but separately.
And yet, it was easy to pretend in front of their friends, colleagues, and even their son that they were the happy couple that was passionately in love, just like they've always been for nearly ten years.
"Mama!" Liam tugged at the hem of Buffy's dress. "I have't'a potty," he said fidgety crossing his legs and holding the front of his pants. "I gotta go! I gotta go!"
Spike smirked, "C'mon, nibblet."
"No!" Liam hid into Buffy's side, "I want mommy to take me!"
Sharing a look with Spike, Buffy brushed her hand through Liam's dark shaggy hair and placed a hand on his back, "Okay, okay, let's go honey." She guided him to the back area of restrooms.
Spike stuffed his hands into his pants pockets as he watched the mother and son leave.
A small pain ached his heart as he watched his wife and son walk away from him. He counted his blessings for Liam. He loved that boy more than living but there was a shadow always looming around them. The five-year-old looked so much like Buffy, except for the colour of his eyes and dark shade of his hair. It pained Spike to imagine what Buffy's ex-lover might have looked like though he would never ask.
After the birth of Liam, Buffy seemed to snap out of the depression she had been in since arriving back from her strange adventure. She respected his wishes and never spoke about her unbelievable journey to the eighteenth-century. She stopped acting melancholy and began to act like herself once more.
Whatever they had been before was no longer. Buffy and Spike had mended the superficial things of their relationship but things that mattered the most seemed too far damaged to repair. In an unspoken agreement, Buffy and Spike swept the real problems in their marriage under the rug. Still, they shared surface-level conversations, rarely argued about Liam, and frequently slept together. The sex had always been great and satisfactory but the passion and the emotions that brought them close was gone. It has been for years.
It was hard to spend time as a family. Spike spent most of his time and energy renovating and reforming the club he had partnered with Oz in. And Buffy spent her time and energy getting her PhD, working at the museum, and doing most of the heavy-lifting of raising Liam in Spike's absence.
Determined to correct his wrongs as the absent father he was becoming, Spike planned to take the five-year-old to the music shop and let him pick out a guitar. He wanted to bond with his son by giving him guitar lessons. If Buffy disagreed with the father and son bonding activity, she never uttered a word. She wanted them to have a relationship. More than anything, she wanted this family to work.
"Like lollipops at the circus, I'm naming all o the stars," Drusilla stepped up from behind Spike and ran a hand over his shoulders.
He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see her. "Dru," Spike swallowed, stunned to see her.
"I can see them, my William," she waved her hand over her head, looking up at the ceiling. "But I've named them all the same name." Drusilla stepped around facing him, "And there's a terrible confusion."
Clenching his jaw, Spike grabbed Drusilla by her elbow and dragged her into the back corner out of the vision from any prying eyes.
"What are you doing here, luv?" He asked, dropping his hand.
Stepping closer to him, Drusilla put her mouth next to his ear and whispered, "Come back with me." She pulled back to watch his expression.
His skin tingled with goosebumps. More than anything, Spike wanted to take her around back and have his way. His dark-haired mistress awoke something inside of him. With her, he felt alive.
"Dru—"
Slowly shaking her head, Drusilla ran a hand flat over his chest, "Naughty. Shh," her finger over his lips, "You needn't makeup stories. I already know why you're not coming. Poor boy." Drusilla put her hands on her head. "The pixies in my head already told me. It's her." Her eyes reached his face, "Right?"
"You know I can't, pet."
"Because the sun is too bright?"
Spike swallowed and took another small step towards her, "It's because of the little bit."
She waved a hand slowly over his face, "The moon casts a shadow over the sun."
Pinching his brows together somewhat confused. Spike tried to untangle the webs of her riddles. "Right…" he muttered with a frown.
Walking out of the restroom with Liam, she crouched down to his eye level and tied his shoelace.
"Honey, stop fidgeting. Lemme tie your shoe so you don't trip and hurt yourself."
"Hurry, Mama!" Liam whined impatiently.
Smirking, Buffy fixed the cuff of the toddler's jeans, "Go, get outta here."
With unbridled excitement, Liam ran off heading straight for his grandfather walking with his colleagues.
Standing up straight from her crouched position, Buffy twisted the diamond wedding band wrapped around her left-hand ring finger. She tossed her eyes around the room for a moment. Holy shit, you actually did it. She began to smile to herself. You got your doctorate. And you're a curator starting Monday.
She shook her head in disbelief of her own accomplishments. It was then she saw Spike in the corner talking to a dark-haired woman.
The frown set on her pouting lips deepened with curiosity. She watched them for a moment, her husband's interaction with a stunningly haunting looking woman seemed innocent enough until the beautiful woman ran a hand over Spike's chest.
Raising a highbrow, Buffy folded her arms over her chest.
Spike must have felt her gaze. His eyes went to her just as Buffy walked back to the party pretending she hadn't seen anything.
Pratt's Residence
Master Bedroom
Sitting at the vanity mirror in the master bedroom of the large townhouse she and Spike had bought two years ago, Buffy took off the diamond earrings in her ears and the wedding band on her left hand.
Her eyes shifted to the silver Claddagh ring on her right hand. She hadn't removed it since the day Angelus slipped it onto her finger. It was a forever reminder of the happiness she felt during their brief marriage.
When finally sitting alone with her thoughts, Buffy's mind always went back to her late husband. In her silent prayers, she hoped that he could hear her or he was looking down on her and Liam from above. Never particularly religious, Buffy liked the comforting notion that he was still with her, guiding her, and loving her from afar.
"Liam's asleep," Spike said as he stepped into the bedroom startling Buffy from her wandering thoughts. "Well, actually, he's talking to himself but he'll fall asleep eventually." He stepped behind his wife and brushed her long hair back over her shoulder. His fingers brushed through her beautiful long blonde locks. "I've always loved this hair." Spike hovered over her shoulder and buried his nose into her hair, breathing in its floral scent.
Buffy did not respond. She kept her gaze low.
Spike knew that expression. There was something on her mind. "What is it, pet?"
Raising her gaze to his in the mirror, decided to be upfront. "Who was that woman you were talking to at the Bronze?"
"Woman? What woman?" Spike frowned, pretending not to know who she was talking about.
She glared at him, pursing her lips together not buying his 'dumb blonde' act.
"Oh, Drusilla?" He waved his hand nonchalantly, "She's… uh… only an act. She came askin' 'bout being booked next month. She wasn't aware of the party." Spike frowned and looked at her in the mirror with surprise, "Did you think…?"
Buffy looked away, shamed for the brief moment of not trusting him, "I don't know what I think. You two just seemed pretty chummy…"
"Chummy?" Spike smirked, amused by her choice of word to describe himself and Drusilla.
"Intimate and I… It's dumb, I know." She turned in her hair to face him as Spike crouched down. "Of course, she's a singer or something. You book attractive people all the time. I'm sorry. I trust you, of course, I do."
Spike felt a mixture of utter guilt and excitement. The woman of his dreams expressed a glint of jealousy and suspicion because another woman made eyes at him. It was an emotion he hadn't seen from her in a long time. It proved to him that she still cared.
Cupping her cheek in his hand, Spike rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. "You have nothin' to ever worry 'bout, goldilocks. You are the only woman I've ever wanted and loved." A sharp pain of guilt struck his chest. He was lying to her and he felt horrible but he couldn't tell her the truth. She'd divorce him and take Liam away. If he told her the truth, the family he desperately wanted to keep would be ruined.
Taking his hands into her own, Buffy brought their hands to her lips. Gently, Buffy brushed her mouth over his knuckles.
Tangling his fingers into her long blonde hair, Spike tilted her face up to his and captured her mouth in a long deep kiss. He immediately sunk into the vortex of her soft lips and the taste of her tongue.
Her arms hooked around his neck, bringing him even closer into her body.
Slowly, Spike pulled the long zipper down her back to release her from the simple elegant black dress she wore. Breaking the kiss, Spike watched as he pushed the straps off of her shoulders. His mouth tenderly kissed and tasted the soft golden skin of her shoulder.
The dress dropped from her hips and bunched at her feet. Impatiently, Buffy unfastened the buttons of the dark purple dress shirt with a paisley print. With a desiring need, Buffy lifted her eyes to Spike's face as her polished fingernails tenderly scratched over his toned pale skin.
Spike unleashed his uncontrollable lust and crushed his mouth against hers. The way she kissed him and the wild entanglement of her fingers burying into his bleach blonde hair. It's been years since she provoked such a feeling inside of him. Spike had almost forgotten this feeling. It was a passionate feeling that clenched his heart and swallowed him whole whenever Buffy touched him and kissed him in such away.
Dropping the button-down shirt to the ground, Buffy's hands went to the front of his trousers. Quickly, she unfastened the front and pulled the zipper down.
His hands slid over her backside, down her thighs to the backs of her knees. He picked her up slightly from the floor and carried her to the bed.
Falling back onto the bed, Spike settled himself between her legs and continued to kiss her all over.
Flipping him onto his back, Buffy bit her bottom lip as she ground her centre over his pants until Spike moans.
Smiling, Spike tenderly bit her wrist and cupped a hand around the back of her head, "You're a cock tease, Doctor Pratt."
Buffy laughed, "You're too easily seduced, Mr Pratt."
For the first time in years, Buffy felt genuine desire and happiness. Perhaps it was seeing Spike look so intimate with another woman that sparked this feeling of possession, but she wanted him. She wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted to taste his kisses.
Hovering over his mouth, Buffy's green eyes locked with his gaze. With the pad of her thumb, she grazed it over his bottom lip. "Kiss me, Spike," she whispered.
Unable to deny her anything, Spike closed the space between their mouths and kissed her fiercely. The tip of his tongue slid across hers, requesting entry, which she, of course, allowed. Their tongues duelled as one, taking the time to re-explore their mouths.
Suddenly, the bedroom door was thrown open.
Mid-kiss and entangled in each other's arms, Buffy and Spike stopped kissing and touched foreheads. They looked over to see Liam standing in the doorway holding a stuffed yellow duck under his arm.
"I can't sleep," he tiredly whined, rubbing his eye with a little fist.
Breaking apart from their compromising position, Buffy quickly rolled off of her husband and grabbed a robe placed on the corner of the bed, while Spike swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He covered his annoyance at the interruption with an easy smile.
"I'll tuck you in," Spike said, standing from the bed.
"No!" Liam ran over towards Buffy, "I want Mommy to do it!" He grabbed Buffy's hand. "C'mon, Mama!" The five-year-old began to drag Buffy across the bedroom by her hand.
Looking over her shoulder, Buffy tossed Spike an apologetic look and followed Liam out of the bedroom.
Liam's Bedroom
Covering Liam up to his chin with the bed comforter, his bright blue eyes were on her, watching her every move.
"Can you lay with me, Mama?" He squeaked and pouted his lips.
"Sure," Buffy settled herself on the small child's bed wrapping an arm around her son. He snuggled into her side and grinned up at her. Combing fingers through his shaggy dark brown hair, Buffy pressed her lips against his forehead.
Liam smoothed his little hands flat over the comforter and pointed to a red planet, "Mars."
Smiling lovingly at the five-year-old, Buffy pointed to a dusty coloured planet with eight rings.
"Saturn!" Liam excitedly replied.
Buffy pointed to another random planet printed on the bed comforter.
"Venus!" Liam laid an index finger on a blue and green planet, "Earth! I live here!"
Buffy chuckled as Liam pointed to Africa. "Not quite," Buffy moved his finger to the approximation to England's location. "What's this planet?" Buffy asked, pointing at a blue planet with rings around it.
Pinching his brows together in deep thought and the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips, Buffy couldn't help but be reminded of his father—his biological father. Liam looked so much like Angelus but for some strange reason it didn't break her heart anymore.
Liam was the best thing to ever happen to her. Despite the sadness that will always pang at her heart in some way Angelus will always be with her which gave her solace. Besides, Buffy could never deny a smile and a laugh because her Liam was far too silly.
"Can I have a story, Mama?" Liam asked, laying his head over her breast.
Kissing the top of his head, Buffy began to comb her fingers through his hair and said, "Once upon a time in a faraway land there was a woman. She was a time traveller."
"Where'd she time travel too?" Liam asked.
"Hush, and I'll tell you," she smirked and kissed Liam's forehead. "She travelled to a time that was strange. There were no cars or aeroplanes or phones. There were no lights. It was a time before people travelled into space—"
"—No trucks?" Liam interrupted.
Buffy shook her head, "No trucks."
"Boats?"
"Wooden Ships."
Liam quietly processed Buffy's reply for a moment then asked, "TV's?"
"Nope, no TV's."
"Toilets?"
Buffy eyed her son with strange amusement and shrugged, "Yes, but they were outside. It was very inconvenient." She remembered the daily annoyance she felt having to go outside to use the bathroom on a daily basis.
"Mickey Mouse?" Liam wondered.
"Nope, no Mickey Mouse Clubhouse,"
"Why?"
Buffy shrugged, "Walt Disney wasn't born yet. Can I finish the story?"
Liam nodded and quietly laid against his mother.
Continuing to comber her fingers through his hair, Buffy told her child a fantastical story that he would believe was all imaginary, "The time traveller met a man…"
"The Irish Prince," Liam grinned.
"Oh, you know this story?" She asked.
Nodding his head, Liam buried his face into Buffy's breast, "It's my favourite."
Heart warmed, Buffy smiled, "The Irish Prince was a tall man with dark hair and dark brown eyes. He was very handsome."
"Do you think I'm handsome, Mommy?" Liam asked suddenly.
Squeezing the five-year-old in her arms, Buffy kissed the top of his head, "I think you're very handsome." She continued, "She and the handsome man didn't get along. They were stubborn and likeminded. But despite their apparent dislike of each other, the time traveller and the Irish Prince fell in love. They were going to live a happily ever after when an old haggish woman locked in a tower needed help."
"Did the Irish Prince rescue her?" Liam asked, though he already knew the answer. He's heard this story hundred's of times already.
Buffy nodded, "The Irish Prince was a hero. Of course, he jumped onto the horse and raced to the tower. The Irish Prince drew out his sword and fought the evil overlord that lived in the tower. They fought hard but the Irish Prince always wins."
"He's the good guy."
"That's right. He's a very good guy."
Liam tilted his chin upwards to look up at Buffy when he asked, "What happened next?"
Releasing a deep breath, Buffy replied, "The Irish Prince returned to the time traveller. The old hag was saved thanks to the Irish Prince's unfailing bravery. But the victory didn't last long. The time traveller needed to go home. To her own time. It was where she belonged. So… she kissed the Irish Prince goodbye and touched a yellow butterfly and when the Irish Prince took her hand at the last minute, they were both sent back to the future."
Liam's face brightened with excitement.
"She couldn't believe it that he came with her. He left everything he knew behind just to be with her."
"Did they live happily ever after?"
"Forever and ever," Buffy took some creative licenses to the partial make-believe story that came from a bit of truth. Every time she told this story the ending changed. Sometimes the time traveller stayed in a strange time. Sometimes they travel to another time or even a different planet. No matter the ending of the bedtime story, there was one thing that reminds the same; the time traveller and the Irish Prince stayed together. Always.
"Time for sleep, my love," she whispered, tightening her arm wrapped around Liam, Buffy relaxed in the bed and closed her own eyes.
Hidden behind the partially opened bedroom door, Spike stood and listened to the familiar bedtime story. Every time he listened to the story, Spike felt another piece of his heartbreak. Just when he thought he and Buffy had begun to start anew, he was reminded of the great love she left behind.
Lowering his head in defeat, Spike pushed himself from the doorframe and walked back into the bedroom, alone.
1758
Duncan Castle
Commons Hall
Rumbustious slaps of fists banged on the table and the men sitting on the benches of the long wooden tables gawked at the painted whorish women dancing above them on the tabletop. The women grinned and lifted the bottoms of their petticoat, revealing their legs.
Standing from the bench holding pewter in his hand, Lindsey climbed on top of the table and danced between the two ladies. He wrapped an arm around one woman's waist as the other began to grab at him from behind.
A small band played in the corner, grinning at the drunken men hoot and hollered at the woman.
Uncomfortably sitting at the table, Wesley and Doyle watched the men the boisterous men grabbing at the women with disgust.
The communal sit-down dinner was no longer had in the commons hall. Angelus put a stop to them a long time ago. He quickly grew tired of the cumbersome questions about Buffy's disappearance. He didn't care about 'community' any longer. He was in charge and that was the end of it.
Watching the change in their oldest friend, Wesley and Doyle didn't know what to do or say to Angelus. Angelus purposefully disconnected himself from the two men and found friendship with Lindsey and his crew. They enjoyed the Tavern and many women.
Nudging Wesley's side for his attention, Wesley lifted his eyes to see Lady Darla enter the commons hall. She crossed the large room and headed straight for Angelus sitting at the end of the long table, looking rather bored with the woman dancing above him and exposing her breasts to him.
Darla's hand slid across Angelus' shoulders and her mouth went to his neck.
"They've gotten rather close," Wesley whispered to Doyle.
"Too close," Doyle agreed. "She's been comin' 'ere every night since Buffy... Angelus is hurtin'."
Wesley nodded, "I agree but what are we to do about it? It's not like we can travel to the Colonies and search for our Mrs O'Connor. She left for a reason."
Doyle sat silently for a moment lost in deep thought. He sat forward and looked at Wesley, "What if she didn't leave at her own… whim?" Doyle kept his voice low for only Wesley to hear.
"Her own whim… Was she taken? Or she was forced away? Doyle that's ridiculous," Wesley rolled his eyes at the idiotic notion.
"T'ink about it, boyo," Doyle smirked and pointed in Angelus' direction.
Following his index finger, Wesley left his stomach churn at the sight of Darla sitting across Angelus' lap, kissing him fervently.
"Who would want t'a Mistress O'Connor out of t'a picture more so?" Doyle asked.
With a huff, Wesley agreed, "Okay, yes, you make a valid point but there is no evidence that Lady Darla somehow forced Buffy to aboard a ship and set sail back to the Colony of California."
"I never said Lady D acted alone."
"Then who is her conspirator?"
Doyle frowned, "I… uh, don't know yet but she didn't act alone. I'm sure of it."
The two men turned their gaze back to the dancers on the table. Their eyes fell on Darla standing from Angelus' lap and holding out her hand for him to table.
Smirking devilishly, Angelus accepted Darla's hand and stood from the chair, letting her guide him out of the commons hall.
Neither Doyle or Wesley sat Lindsey pause on top of the table, watching Angelus leave with Lady Darla. His blue eyes darkened with anger and jealousy.
Despite all of his best efforts in trying to capture Darla's affections, she still only had eyes for the great Angelus O'Connor. Hatred grew in Lindsey's chest as he clenched his jaw in efforts to control himself.
Backroom
Shoving Darla roughly into the backroom that often acted as an office for Angelus. Her lower back hit the edge of the heavy dark wood desk. Catching herself, her blue eyes went to Angelus' face. She grinned and bit her bottom lip with anticipating excitement.
Hiking up the hem of her dress, Darla licked her lips.
It had taken her nearly three years but she finally got Angelus back. During a drunken night, she came to him in a blonde splendour. He laid flat on his back across the bed with his hands covering his face as he mumbled incoherently to himself.
Taking advantage of his inebriated state, Darla unfastened the front of his breeches and she had her way with him. So happy to finally have him in this position, Darla ignored Buffy's name when it slipped from his tongue.
"What's wi' t'a long face, Angelus?"
Leaning up against the doorframe, Angelus rolled his eyes over Darla finding her attractive but nowhere near the goddess that haunted his dreams on a nightly basis.
"Please, don't insult me wi' thoughts of her again," Darla rolled her eyes with annoyance. "She's gone, Angelus. She left ye."
Angelus did not respond, but the expression of anger was evident on his face.
"When will ye stop pining for her—a woman t'at never loved ye and finally look at what ye 'ave right 'ere—Right in front of ye?" She walked over to her lover and pressed her hands flat against his chest. "A woman t'at actually loves ye. Ye're in pain." Darla drew a circle around Angelus' heart. "Let me help ye ease yer pain and anger." Her fingers danced down the side of his face, "Use me, Angelus. Take me."
Silence lingered between them for what felt like a lifetime.
Darla waited with anticipation for Angelus' response but his communication for the last five years as all but disappeared. He expressed himself in bursts of vicious tempers, aggression, and drastic manic mood swings.
Grabbing the back of Darla's head, he tightly gripped her hair. He watched her wince with pain.
"Ye're hurtin' me," she grinned at him. "T'at's good."
Pushing all rational thought from his mind, Angelus acted on his emotions of abandonment and anger. He crushed his mouth against Darla's and forced his tongue between her lips.
She grinned against his mouth and hooked her arms around his neck, welcoming his aggression.
Stepping her back, Angelus kicked the door closed with the heel of his boot and lifted her from the floor to seat her on the edge of the desk. Lying her back down on the desk, Angelus pushed up her skirts and unfastened the front of his breeches.
Flashing in his mind was Buffy's face. He imagined walking with her through the tall grass watching her grin with gleaming happiness. Looking over her shoulder, she faced him and wrapped a tender hand around the back of his neck. Pressing herself to the front of his body, Buffy gently lowered his face down to meet her for a kiss.
The image in Angelus' mind blackened as Buffy disappeared leaving him alone in the tall grass. He felt his heart rip out his chest. He reached out to the emptiness in front him where Buffy once stood.
Buffy.