Joy Will Come To Those Who Wait.

Title:- see above
Rating;-PG13
Distribution:- ask first
Ownership:- Joss is God, I am not. Enough said.
Feedack:- please?


A very happy, de-chipped Spike roamed the streets of Sunnydale, praising the sudden darkness. He wasn't very hard for Buffy to find since there was a trail of half-dead humans leading to Willy's Place. Knowing she was behind him, the vampire turned and grinned mischevously,
"For what do I owe the honor, your Bleached Blonde Mightyness?"
"Hey! My hair is *natural*!"
"Oh please! There are more highlights in your hair than a saturday morning football match!"
"Ouch, good one. I'd have thought you'd tkae advantage of the night."
The blonde demon shrugged,
"Eternal night time. You need an eternal nightcap to go with it."


Darla woke. She looked around, everything looked so different. Of course, she was seeing the world through human eyes. She could hear no heartbeats nor smell the blood. Not so tantalising. The thought of drinking human blood made her wretch and she felt a cold hand on her forehead as she tried to move her legs.
"She has a fever."
She looked at the person who the hand belonged to. Make that *demon*. It was Angel. Darla shivered and the vampire pulled his coat right around her, tucking her in as if she were a child. She wasn't, she was over 400 years old. Then he thought of how much she would have to cope with. He had only to suffer a century's worth of murder and carnage, while she was burdened with 4 centuries worth.
"Angel, I want to get up."
"Come on then."
He lifted her off the sofa and put her back again so she was sitting up,
"You're not standing though."
"I'm no baby."
"No. It's worse than that. You're *human*. Drastically reduced healing powers."
Cordy and Wesley left for the local bar to give them some peace and Angel found himself gazing into Darla's twinkling eyes. He felt awkward. The vampire was used to fighting his Sire, not sympathising with her.
"You okay?"
She smiled faintly,
"It's...I mean...I just feel so..."
Her voice trailed off and Angel nodded understandingly,
"I know. Welcome to redemption."


"Usual please, Will."
"Sure glad to have y'back after all this time."
"Don't mushy on me, I might have to kill you."
The human smiled,
"Just to prove you can."
"No, good quality bar tenders are hard to find these days."
"You're alright, kid, you're alright."
"And you're doing it again."
Willy handed the starving vampire a pint of blood. Human. Spike sipped it, savouring the metallic tang, and his eyes glazed over as he drifted deep into thought. He snapped out of it in time for another pint,
"Where d'you get the blood, Will? I mean I wouldn't consider you a cold blooded killer."
"Nah, my brother's a professional torturer. He's got his workshop out back." He chuckled, "You think too much."
All male heads turned as a slim blonde of average height walked in. Harmony. Nobody else could walk like that and get away with it. Except maybe Cordelia Chase, but then it was she who taught Harmony all she knew about fashion dos and don'ts. She smiled at every guy in the joint except Spike, her eyes passing right over him as if he was invisible. Spike turned back to Willy and said in his loudest, most theatrical voice,
"They say there's a new heart throb in town. a real heart stopper."
The human instantly picked up the dropped hint and played along,
"Y'mean that Hitler fella?"
Spike had to look at his drink to stop himself from laughing. Harmony didn't exactly ace history so she couldn't make the connection between World War 2 and their so called heart stopper.
"Yeah. I heard talk that he lives down by the Summers place. Y'know the boarded up building."
"I know the one, but I thought he went for the classy digs."
Spike smiled at the barkeeper, could she be anymore gullable? He smiled even more as the vampiress took a seat just 3 away from his own.
"He's doing it up, he's loaded y'know. Could afford to convert the place to the bloody White House."
They heard the slight gasp of joy from Harmony and watched with ever increasing mirth as she ran out, heading for the building labelled "CONDEMNED" by the local council. Spike grinned,
"I should have done that a *long* time ago. Teach her to try and stake me."
"You did do it to her, Spike."
"Yeah but she's so *annoying*. On the other hand, *I* am - "
"Just a pain in the ass."
Buffy stood at the door and cast her eyes to Spike's pint of blood. He didn't look up from his drink,
"Slayer! And here's me thinking you'd forgotten."
"That human?"
"Duh. I didn't kill for it if that's what you're thinking."
Buffy put her hands on her hips in her "Like I'd believe a single bloodsoaked word you say." expression. Willy came to his friend's aid,
"He telling the truth. I got it for him."
Spike stood, regaining his authority,
"I don't have to justify my own actions. I'm my own demon so sod off."


Darla looked out the window. She was confused. So many creatures out tonight. Which were human? Which were vampiric? She wished she could still tell the difference. She wished she could still defend herself. She wished so many things that she knew were now impossible. Feeling Angel's presence she smiled faintly. He saw her face reflected in the window though she could not see his. She turned her head to look at him and he smiled fondly,
"Feeling better?"
"Yeah."
The vampire had almost ridden her of the self loathing she felt as she remembered her life as a vampire. She now realised that the person who did those things was not a person but a demon. It wasn't her. She'd grasped that concept along with the help of amny of Wesley's books on vampires and the hand written accounts by Angel. This she was thankful for, what would she do without her baby? Angel was her baby, she'd cared for him even when he didn't want it. There were times when she'd even dared to tuck him in and bare the consequences.
"My Angel."
That was one side affect of having a petname like "Angel". He could never tell when people who used it were being sarcastic or sincere. Previously, Darla had always used it to show the soulful vampire how unlike his petname he was. Angel. He was no Angel, he still craved human blood, the sound of so many heartbeats in one room could be unbearable. Add to that all the heartbeats on the streets outside, or in the house nextdoor and times it by the biggest number you can think of. Agony. Even his name in full gave Darla many ways to provoke him. Angelus, the one with the angelic face. It was in every document ever written about him. His angelic face, a mask hiding the demon within. Angel gazed deep into her eyes and tried to shut out the voice telling him to mutilate her beyond recognition. She smiled. Dennis was flicking through the television channels. This Darla found fascinating, she had no idea where the poltergeist was. During her whole (rather extended) lifetime, she'd never seen anything quite like this. She had watched witches do this with magic, telekinesis etc but never a poltergeist. Angel smiled as her eyes seemed to dance when she laughed. These were the things he had liked to remember about her. During his first century of feeling sorry for himself, the vampire had blotted out the horrific details of their life together and focussed on the nicer things. Her smile, her laugh, the way she always seemed to smell of peppermint and coffee beans. Now she just smelt like blood. Blood, peppermint and decaf. Not the best combination.