Setting – Angel S5 – AU – Takes place in resurrected Sunnydale. Just imagine Wolfram & Hart worked some mojo and restored it to its former self. Spike and Darla come across each other and things develop between them.
She listened carefully, looking into his eyes and then hugged him in a tight embrace. She starts to whisper then begins to shout the more she talks, "How could you treat me so nice? They broke me? They made me come back with humanity in me! They're punishing me. I'm not worth a soul or even lucky enough to be me again!" Crying heavily she buried her face into his chest, breathing into his shirt, holding him tighter, not wanting to ever let go.
Spike wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair lightly. "You've been nice to me all night. How could I not be nice to you back?" He shook his head, "You didn't ask to come back. And they're not punishing you. You're punishing yourself by letting them get to you. If you let them affect you like this, then they win." He raised his eyebrows and spoke quietly, "I didn't just get handed my soul on a silver platter. I had to go through bloody painful trials to get it. And has anything changed? Has it changed me? Not really. I'm still the same me as I've ever been. You are who you want to be. Soul or no soul." He shook his head, "And you are you. You can be whoever you want to be. You just need to figure out who it is you want to be. And if I can help you with that, then I will. Because, I do want too. But we can ever only truly be ourselves."
Darla closed her eyes listening to him, breathing him in, and letting everything disappear. She opened her eyes when he finished talking, pulling herself back and looking into his eyes again. "I'm glad I've found you again. I don't know why, but I feel so alive when I'm around you. The earth stops moving. Oh God….I sound so corny," and she laughed weakly in a soft tone.
She leaned back into him, clinging onto him tight, letting him hold her close. "I want you...more then anything else I've ever wanted."
Spike's smile grew wider the more Darla talked. He shook his head, "It doesn't sound corny. You think I could just fall…" he paused, "in one night?" He frowned and shook his head. "It hasn't even been a whole day yet…" and he trailed off when she started to speak again.
He stroked her back lightly, "I know exactly how you feel." He closed his eyes and sat there just holding her for a few minutes. He reluctantly pulled back slightly and raised his eyebrows, "As much as I'm enjoying sitting in a dark alleyway with you, we really should get up and go back to my crypt. I don't want us both to be still sitting here when the sun comes up." He stood up and smiled as he held out his hand to help her up.
Darla smiled at him taking his hand immediately, letting him pull her up. They walked on down the street until they reached the graveyard. Darla was getting cold. She shivered in the night air, looking at each passing tombstone as she walked.
"I'm glad you're here. I think I would of staked myself again," she looked down at her feet, laughing weakly, "How sad am I? I've come back weak and pathetic. I don't deserve to live."
After he helped Darla up he put his arm around her shoulder and started to walk with her. When he noticed her shiver he stopped, shrugged out of his duster and put it around her shoulders and smoothed the collar down. He smiled, then put his arm back around her shoulder and started to walk again.
Spike stopped when she started to talk again. He turned her around gently to face him and took hold of her shoulders. He raised his eyebrows, looking at her, "Don't even joke about that. It's not funny." He shook his head, a frown furrowing his brow, "You're not sad, and you're not weak or pathetic." He lifted her chin up with his finger and looked into her eyes, "God Darla. What if we hadn't run in to each other? And then you had…and we would never have…" he shook his head, his gut twisting from the thought. He couldn't bear to think about what might have happened if they hadn't seen each other tonight.