Title: A Dream or a Legend: Prelude No. 20 in C Minor
Disclaimer: I don't own Darla, Lindsey, Angelus, or Chopin.
Author's Note: Strange story based on Darla's favourite Prelude, seen in 'Judgement'.
Summary: Why Darla particularly liked that Prelude by Chopin.
Rating:K+
Genre? General, probably.
Pairings: Darla/ Angelus
Spoilers: 'Judgement'
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated.


A Dream or a Legend: Prelude No. 20 in C Minor

Frédéric Chopin.

Just some composer who used to live a long time ago, according to most people nowadays. But not for Darla.

There was a reason why Darla particularly liked the Prelude No. 20 in C Minor, played in Lindsey's office a few days after her 'rebirth'.

She didn't just 'like' the music. She liked the composer. In person.

Paris, France, 1849

Darla was walking down the crowded streets in France, alone, because her darling boy was taking care of some other business back in London. She didn't really feel lonely without her Angelus. She had enough to do, and every man she passed stood still to look at her ,even if he was married. She didn't care much about these regular men, though. They couldn't even be compared with her Angelus. If she did, she would probably end up laughing. Sometimes Darla would play with them, though. Just to prevent her from getting bored.

Darla got bored easily.

Besides those 'regular men' there was one person though, who got her personal interest.

Frédéric Chopin.

He was a classical composer, mainly fond of the piano. He wasn't extremely famous, just a bit. Just enough to let Darla notice him.

She liked his music, but she'd never met him in person. Until that particular night.

She walked into some bar to see if there was anyone she could have for dinner, and then she heard it. The gentle, soothening piano music coming from the dark corner where the mahogany piano was standing. Apparently there was no place for it among the other guests. There sure was place for Darla.

She walked up behind the young Chopin who was playing the piano.

Prelude No. 20 in C Minor, she recognised that instantly.

It would be his last.

She slipped into game face , smiled, and dragged him off the piano stool right after he finished playing. She drained him, and positioned his dead body back on the piano stool , where it belonged.

Frédéric Chopin never died of tuberculoses, as everybody said.

Present Day, Los Angeles, Wolfram & Hart

'You killed him...', Lindsey said, rather confused.

'I killed him.', Darla confirmed with a proud smile. ' A beautiful legend, isn't it?'.

Would Lindsey believe her? He honestly had no idea. She wasn't completely herself yet, maybe it was a dream? Or maybe, as she said, it was a legend after all.