Welcome Back to the Hellmouth Ficathon Fic: Unchained Melody
Welcome Back to the Hellmouth Ficathon fic written for enigma731 whose request was:
Characters/pairings you would like to read: Buffy/Angel(us), Buffy/Spike, Darla/Angel(us), Willow/Oz
Your Fic Kink: biting
Three things you would like in the fic: snow, an apology, a holiday
Up to two restrictions for your fic: incest, mpreg
Rating preference: PG


I've tried my best to fulfill your request. I hope you enjoy the results.


Title: Unchained Melody
Author: Sandy
Pairing: Angel(us)/Darla
Rating: PG-13 or maybe a little higher
Word Count: ~5400
Spoilers: This is an AU of AtS Season 2
Warnings: This is Angelus acting Angelus-y, but nothing graphic
Disclaimer: The boys and girls of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Series do not belong to me, but Joss did give us all permission to play in his sandbox. Thanks, Joss!
Feedback: Yes, please. I wallow in your comments. :)

Many thanks to my wonderful beta, married_n_mich. Any mistakes you find here are purely mine.

Summary: Wolfram and Hart have grown tired of dealing with Angel, and so they come up with a cunning plan to circumvent the prophecy.




~~~~~~***~~~~~~

"We don't want him dead. We want him dark." Dear Boy


England, 1870

The Yule log blazed cheerily in the fireplace casting a warm glow out into the parlor. Two women, one as dark as the other was fair, moved gracefully around the tree using long tapers to carefully light the candles that decorated the branches.

A man, tall and dark, sat ensconced in a comfortable wing chair by the fire, sipping a glass of port and watching his women with lazy contentment. Snow fell in thick, fat flakes outside and a bitter wind blew, but he and his family were warm and safe and dry.

When the last candle had been lit, the beautiful blonde woman blew out her taper and watched the dark-haired girl as she clapped her hands and turned to the man. "May we open our presents now, Daddy?" she asked excitedly.

The man smiled indulgently, but shook his head. "It's not yet midnight, Dru," he said with a slight Irish accent. "We don't want to break with tradition, now do we?"

Drusilla pouted a bit, but then smiled and twirled around in a circle, the beadwork on her powder blue silk gown sparkling from the firelight as she danced around the room. "Oh, I so love Christmas and presents," she exclaimed happily. "And this one is going to be the best one yet. So many presents to open."

Darla rolled her eyes and walked over to Angelus, her hips swaying gracefully in the red velvet gown she wore. She reached out and took the wine glass from his hand, took a tiny sip, and then settled onto his lap. His arm automatically came up and curled around her waist pulling her snug against him. When she was comfortably settled with her head resting on his shoulder, he retrieved his glass and drank down the rest of the wine before setting the glass aside. Slipping his hand up under her shirts, he caressed her silken thighs. Cuddled together, they watched in contented silence as Drusilla twirled and danced around the room to a melody only she heard.

When the large, ornate clock on the mantle chimed midnight, Drusilla stopped her dance and her eyes lit with a mad joy. "It's Christmas morning," she said eagerly. "Time to open presents."

Angelus nudged Darla off his lap and stood, pausing to tug and smooth his black silk waistcoat into place and remove small bits of lint from his black wool tailcoat. "In a minute, Dru. First I have a special present for Darla."

Darla looked at him and lifted one perfectly arched eyebrow. "Have you been holding out on me, Angelus?"

He leaned down and brushed a kiss across her red lips. "I wanted it to be a surprise," he said with a smile and then turned away and left the room. He returned a short time later with a small, wrapped bundle and placed it into her arms.

Darla pulled back the blanket covering her present and looked into the tiny, pink face of a baby no more than six months old; a beautiful child with bright blue eyes and fine, golden hair.

"Angelus, you always know the perfect thing to get me," she said in a pleased voice, glancing up at him and smiling. "You spoil me so."

She lowered her head and breathed deeply, then pulled back more of the blanket exposing the infant's neck. As she slipped into her demon face and pierced the tiny neck with her fangs, the young woman lying bound and gagged by the fireplace screamed and screamed and screamed.

~~*~~

Angel sat straight up in bed with a gasp. The cool linen sheet that covered him slipped down his bare chest to pool around his lean hips. It tented slightly from the erection that rose from between his thighs. He blinked furiously trying to dispel the dream images from his mind, and drew in deep breaths in an effort to quell the emotions they had produced.

He could still taste the blood of the young mother; still feel the pain of Darla's nails digging into his shoulders, still smell her musky scent as they took each other roughly on the floor by the fire.

His memories of that night were as clear as if it had just happened. Caught in a blizzard while traveling through the English countryside, the three vampires and their coachman minion had sought shelter in a lonely manse they'd spotted through the blowing snow. They'd been graciously invited in, and as the two women stepped over the now barrier-free threshold, Angelus had sent his minion off to the stables with permission to feed on whoever or whatever he found there.

It hadn't taken long for the three vampires to overtake the small household. The master had given most of the staff the evening off to spend with their families keeping only those servants necessary to provide for his own family's comfort. The vampires had bound the servants and locked them in the pantry while the family had been brought to the large front parlor, trussed up, and arranged around the tree like brightly wrapped packages. The only exceptions had been the baby that Angelus had withheld as a surprise for his sire and a querulous old woman that he had found ensconced in a large bed in a suite upstairs. She'd been unafraid of him, brave in that way that very old people often were. It had amused him to snap her neck after feeding on her maid.

The torment of the family had been the highlight of that early Christmas morn. Angel closed his eyes, awash in the memories, remembering clearly the muffled screams and broken sobs of the adults as the two older children, a bright-eyed five year old girl and a sturdy three year old boy, had been used as appetizers to whet the vampires' appetites. Their young, plump nanny had quickly followed. The master and his lady's deaths, however, had taken much, much longer.


Angel rubbed at his face with trembling hands. His dreams had grown increasingly erotic and memory-filled of late. Memories of nights filled with sex and death and the joy of the hunt. He was beginning to wonder if he were losing his grip on sanity. Not only was he dreaming about Darla, but he was seeing her everywhere he went; walking down a street, entering a shop, riding past in a car. He would rush after her trying to catch her, but she was always gone.

The strain was wearing him down, making him unable to focus, unable to stand being around anyone, especially his friends. He began to dream of killing them, slaking his ever-burning hunger with their blood, drinking them down until they were empty and cold. The craving for their blood, for their lives was becoming irresistible, and so, with his last ounce of willpower, he'd sent them away and shut down Angel Investigations. He'd been locked in his dreams ever since, waking only long enough to drink the increasingly unsatisfying pig's blood he kept in his refrigerator before collapsing back into bed, too exhausted to move, too addicted to the dreams to stay awake.

Rising from the bed, he staggered into bathroom and turned on the shower. He stood under the hot, pounding water trying to push away the memory of how Darla had looked that long ago Christmas; beautiful and sensual and evil. He didn't understand what was happening to him. All he knew was that a longing for Darla he'd thought long dead was consuming him, and he awoke from his dreams hard and aching.

With a moan of defeat, he reached down to stroke himself, groaning at the touch of his hand. The sound of the curtain being drawn back made him whirl around in surprise. His eyes widened in shock when he saw Darla standing there naked, a wicked smile on her beautiful face as her eyes took in his state.

"I can help with that," she said in a sultry voice, nodding toward Angel's groin.

Angel stared dumbly at apparition before him; she'd never appeared to him so closely before. "Darla?" he said in a confused whisper. He shivered when she stepped into the shower and ran soft, warm hands down his arms.

"It's me, my love," she said in a throaty whisper, her lips brushing across his shoulder. "I've come back to you. I've come back for you."

Her lips trailed up his neck and her hands cupped the back of his head, drawing it down to her. He felt the softness of her mouth open against his lips, and he was lost as long-building need overwhelmed him. With a growl, he shoved her hard against the shower wall and reached down to grab her thighs, pulling her up until her legs wrapped around his waist. When she turned her head exposing her neck, he morphed into game face and sank his fangs into the throbbing vein. A thick haze fell over him as the rich taste of her blood filled his mouth and her soft body accepted him as he thrust roughly into her.

Several hours later he lay on his side next to her in the bed with his head propped on one hand and watched her sleep. Her heat warmed his body and her scent filled his head. His relaxed pose stiffened to alertness when her slow breathing changed as she drifted toward wakefulness.

Darla's eyes fluttered opened, the blue of the sheets darkening the blue of her eyes, and when she saw him lying beside her, she smiled and reached out to stroke his face.

"Angelus?"

"At your service," he answered, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss into her palm. "Do you want to tell me how you managed to free me?"

A smile of delight curved Darla's full lips and she pulled him down to her for a kiss.

When the kiss ended he pulled back and then moved over her body, straddling her, trapping her hands over her head. "How?" he demanded, the charm dropping away and a cold mask taking its place.

Darla laughed. "Wolfram and Hart," she said. "They found a spell that would counteract that filthy Gypsy's curse, but they needed your sire in order to make in happen. My blood, my body."

"You were the thing that was in that box."

"Mmm hmm."

"And the dreams?"

"All part of the spell," she confirmed. "I've been coming to you every day for weeks now, whispering into your ear, reminding you of the way things used to be between us. I let you catch glimpses of me on the street to weave the spell tighter."

"I thought they wanted a vampire with a soul."

Darla shrugged as best she could with her hands imprisoned as they were. "You were proving to be too hard to manage. Too unpredictable." She smiled smugly. "I could have told them you would be." She turned her head and pressed a kiss to his arm. "Since they couldn't be sure you'd be on their side, the Senior Partners decided to try to circumvent the prophecy by taking you out of the equation without actually killing you. They put their best warlocks and demon magicians into developing a spell that would work." She smiled a seductive smile at him. "They came up with one, but needed me. So here I am. And now here you are, my darling Angelus."

He sat back releasing her hands. "And you think what? That I'm going to be Wolfram & Hart's boy now?"

"No," Darla said sharply raising herself on her elbows. "You're my boy. My dear boy. You belong to me."

He leaned down and drew his nose along the skin of her neck. "You're human," he said sitting back up and looking at her coldly.

"Temporarily," she said with a sly smile and turned her head exposing her neck once again. "You can cure that just like I cured you."

Angelus watched the pulse throbbing in her neck, and he felt himself growing hard again. With a low growl, he released his demon, grabbed her hair and pulled her head roughly to the side, and sank his fangs into her neck.


Night and day had come and gone, and now the moon rose once again over the smog-filled skies of Los Angeles. Angelus sat in a chair beside the bed, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles and his hands folded over his flat belly, and waited patiently, watching for the first sign of her awakening.

Without warning, she sat straight up in the bed, the sheet that covered her slipping away to expose her firm breasts, her gold eyes flashing in the dim light, lips drawn back from her fangs. Spotting him, she leapt from the bed and attacked.

Angelus laughed and grabbed her hands, using his superior weight and strength to push her back to the bed. When he had her restrained, he said, "Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you."

She struggled against him for a few minutes more, and then the mad, feral light faded from her eyes, her face slipped back into her human appearance, and she blinked up at him.

"Angelus?"

He smiled in satisfaction. "Welcome back, Darla. Are you hungry?"

"Famished," she said, her face morphing back into the demon.

Stepping away from her, he crossed the room to grab a bound and gagged girl that had been lying in a corner of the room. She was young, possibly fifteen or sixteen years old, a street girl abandoned and ignored and now terrified. He dragged her over to Darla.

"Here," he said shoving the girl into Darla's eager arms. "I've been saving her just for you."

Darla accepted his offering with greedy hands. The girl's muffled scream quickly faded to silence.


They hunted that night, satisfying the hunger that burned in the newly risen Darla. When dawn neared they returned to Angelus' suite at the Hyperion and sated their hunger for each other.

That evening as they were dressing Angelus said, "How would you like to visit some old friends of mine?"

Darla smoothed down the dress that she'd slipped on. "Social call?" she asked casually.

Angelus grinned. "What do you think?"

"I think it sounds like fun," she said. When she was satisfied with her appearance, she walked up to Angelus, slipped her arms around his waist, and lifted her face for his kiss. He obliged her, and then pushed her away and swatted her on the ass.

"Let's go," he said.

He knew where to find his former friends, and it wasn't long before they stood on the roof of a building across the street from the dingy office now housing Angel Investigations. A light shone through the cheap Venetian blinds, and shadows passed by the windows.

"What are we waiting for?" Darla asked crossly.

"Patience," Angelus said, his eyes firmly affixed to the door. He stiffened slightly when the door opened and Wesley and Gunn stepped out onto the street. He could hear Cordelia calling after them. Wesley answered, and then they got in Gunn's truck and drove away.

"And now we go calling," he said, flashing Darla a grin before leaping off of the roof and landing lightly on the fire escape attached to the alley side of the building.

Cordelia was standing at a filing cabinet and looked around with a wide smile when he opened the door. When she saw who stood there, her expression turned chilly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked sharply. "I thought you didn't want us around you anymore."

"Now, Cordy, why would you think that?" he said with a smirk.

"Because of the way you kicked us out, maybe?" she snapped. Spotting Darla, she frowned and asked, "Who's you friend?"

"We met once before," Darla said with a laugh as she stepped forward, her face shifting form. "In Sunnydale."

Cordelia gasped and fell back a step. She glanced at Angelus in confusion. "Angel?"

Angelus shifted into his own demon face and grinned at her. "I'm sure you remember me talking about Darla. My sire? She's come back." He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "And she's set me free."

He was delighted with the look of absolute horror that appeared on Cordelia's face at his words, and when she dashed to the side in an attempt to get to the door, he was on her instantly.

"You're not leaving already, are you?" he asked mockingly as his arm wrapped around her waist. He drew her tightly to him enjoying her fruitless struggles to free herself. "We haven't had time to visit yet." He nipped at her earlobe and chuckled when she kicked back at him trying so hard, so futilely to break free.

He tightened his arm even more, squeezing her ribs until she could barely breathe. He wished he could take his time with her, but his plans this night didn't allow time for him to play all the games with her he'd like. Reaching up with his free hand, he grabbed her hair and jerked her head to the side, exposing her neck.

"Here I bring Darla to meet my very good friend Cordelia," he said in a mock disappointed voice, "and you haven't even offered us something to drink. Poor manners, Cordy. I thought you were raised better than that."

He ran his fangs up the column of her neck leaving behind a thin trail of blood. Cordelia struggled and screamed, inflaming Angelus with the scent of her fear. There'd always been a part of him even when caged by the soul that had wanted to sink his fangs into the soft skin of her neck, to taste her sweet blood, and now at last he had his chance. She screamed again when his fangs pierced her neck, and he closed his eyes in ecstasy. He'd barely gotten a taste when the office door banged open and an English-accented voice said, "What's going on here? Angel?"

Still in game face, Angelus lifted his head and glared at Wesley, then threw Cordelia aside. "Wes, it's good to see you, buddy," he said before leaping forward and grabbing at Wesley. Wesley jumped to the side out of his reach and quickly drew out a stake.

"What are you doing?" he asked desperately. Angelus growled and grabbed for him again, but he was knocked to the ground by a powerful blow from behind. He rolled across the floor and looked up to see Gunn standing there, his hubcap axe held in his hands ready to strike, a look of confused shock on his face.

"What the hell's going on here?" he demanded.

"It's Angelus," Cordelia cried out as she pushed herself to her feet, holding her hand to her bleeding neck. Angelus heard Darla growl and Cordelia scream, and he scrambled to his feet when Gunn swore and made a move to assist her. Grabbing a chair, he threw it at Gunn in an attempt to disarm him. Gunn grunted as the chair hit him, but he quickly regained his balance and swung the axe. Angelus jumped back, the deadly axe head just missing him. He caught sight of Wesley coming at him out of the corner of his eye, and he swung his arm out hitting him a glancing blow and knocking him back a few steps. Gunn tried to move towards Cordelia again, but Angelus cut him off just as Wesley lunged forward again bringing down his stake. It pierced Angelus' shoulder, and he turned his attention back to Wesley backhanding the former Watcher and knocking him to the wall. He slid, stunned, to the floor.

Angelus had just ducked another swing of Gunn's axe when he heard a scream of pure anguish from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see Darla standing in the middle of the floor, her hands over her smoking face. Cordelia stood to the side, an empty flask in her shaking hands. With a roar, Angelus ducked another swing of Gunn's axe, grabbed the man, and threw him across the room. He then ran to Darla, swept her up in his arms, and fled the office.

Darla whimpered in pain the entire drive back to the Hyperion, her face a mass of raw, smoking burns. Angelus carried her up to his suite and then left her long enough to grab a young man off the street and bring him back to her.

It took three days for the burns from the Holy Water to heal. Angelus hunted, bringing her young, strong, healthy victims to feed upon, and plotted his revenge. He'd been too overconfident; too sure that Cordelia would be left alone just long enough for him to leave her body as a present for the men when they returned. Their quick return had caught him off-guard. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

When Darla was at last healed, they headed back to the office of Angel Investigations only to find it dark and empty, abandoned many days before. In a fit of rage, Angelus tore through the office, destroying files and books and furnishings. Darla looked on with a bored expression on her face.

When he threw the last file cabinet against the wall, Darla asked, "Are you done now? Can we go get something to eat?" Giving an ancient text one last kick, Angelus strode out of the office. The sounds of police sirens could be heard in the distance.

It was several hours before they returned to the hotel, and when Angelus walked into the lobby, he stopped suddenly at the sight of the man seated casually on the reception desk.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with a menacing growl.

Spike blew out a long stream of cigarette smoke, and looked at him with an amused smirk.

"So, is it true?"

"What? That I hate your guts?" Angelus asked.

"No, you twit. Know the answer to that one; return the sentiment. The question is, are you back in the fold?"

"How did you hear about it?" Darla asked stepping forward.

"Great-grandmamma," Spike said. "You're looking good for a big pile o' dust."

"Don't call me that!" Darla spat.

Spike just grinned. "So, Darla, is he our Angelus or just Angel with PMS?"

"It doesn't matter which I am," Angelus said as he strode forward, a stake appearing in his right hand. When he was close enough, he grabbed Spike by his coat lapels and pulled him off the reception desk. Forcing him backwards, he bent him over the counter and raised the stake until it hovered over Spike's chest. "I'm going to stake you either way."

Spike just laughed at him. "Do that, and you won't know what I know."

"You don't know anything worthwhile, Spike," Angelus said, but he stopped the downswing of the stake. "You never have."

"You sure about that?"

Angelus knew Spike well enough to know that he wasn't bluffing. Spike had important information, and no amount of threats or beatings would get it out of him if he didn't want to give it up. With a frustrated growl, he slammed Spike once against the counter and released him. Backing away, he said, "This had better be good, Spike, or you're going to find out what it's like to be a big pile o' dust."

Spike casually straightened his clothing and then hoisted himself back up onto the counter. Lighting another cigarette, he blew the plume of smoke into Angelus' face and asked, "Noticed any friends gone missing lately?"

Angelus narrowed his eyes. "What do you know about that?"

"More than you, apparently. And I'll tell you what I know just as soon as you make me a promise."

Angelus stepped forward again, raising the stake threateningly. "Don't tempt me, boy. The only promise I'm going to make to you is that if you don't tell me what you know, I'll do what I should have done decades ago."

"Ooh, I'm so afraid," Spike said mockingly. "No, we're playing this my way. I'll tell you what I know as soon as you agree to help me."

Darla, who had been watching the interplay silently, stepped up next to Angelus and asked, "What kind of help do you need?"

Spike looked at her and his face went cold. "I've got this bit of plastic in my head. A chip. Keeps me from hunting. Makes me a good dog. I'll tell you what I know, even help you, if you two promise to help me get it out."

Angelus and Darla exchanged glances and then Angelus said, "Tell me what you know that you think is worth your life, and we'll consider it."

Spike hesitated, studying their faces, and then shrugged. "Your friends high-tailed it to Sunnydale after your last little encounter with them."

Angelus narrowed his eyes. "I'd already figured that out seeing as how that's where you were before you showed up here." He raised his stake and made a buzzer sound. "Nnnnt, wrong answer. You lose. Not good enough."

Spike just smirked and took a drag off his cigarette. It irritated Angelus that Spike never acted properly cowed in his presence. "That's not all, you great ponce. When I left, the whole lot of them were on the hunt for a very specific item. Three guesses what it was."

Angelus stiffened and then cursed. "An Orb of Thesulah."

Spike pointed his finger at him. "Got it in one."

He cursed again and turned away, pacing agitatedly. "I'm not going to allow them to shove that soul back in me."

"Then I suggest we go to Sunnydale and take care of it," Darla said calmly. She turned to Spike. "Do you know how close they were to finding one?"

Spike shrugged. "I think Giles was checking with his contacts. I doubt it'll take him long to find one."

"Then we're going to Sunnydale to hunt down the witch and kill her. Kill them all," Angelus said.

Spike hopped off the desk. "Yeah, now that's something I can get behind. I wish there was time for me to get this sodding chip out of my noggin so I could join in the fun, but we should get on the road right away or else we'll have to wait until tomorrow night, and that might be too late."

Angelus turned, coattails flying dramatically behind him, and stormed out of the hotel, Darla following. She slid in beside him on the front seat of the old Plymouth, and when headlights appeared in his rearview mirror, he knew that Spike was behind him. Pulling away from the hotel, he headed for the freeway.

When they entered Sunnydale, Spike took the lead and led them to an area near the downtown business district and pulled into an alley to park. He got out of his car and walked back to the Plymouth.

"Giles bought the Magic Box a few months back, and that's their headquarters now. We can sneak in the back, and you and Darla can take 'em out. If the witch has the Orb, I'll try to get hold of it and smash it."

Angelus nodded his head, and the three vampires quietly made their way to the back of the shop. The door was locked, but it only took Spike a few seconds to pick it and let them into the back room. Spike moved silently through the room a few steps ahead of Angelus and Darla. When they reached the middle of the room, Angelus felt a tingling sensation just as Spike dove to the floor, rolled across it, and shouted, "Now!"

An invisible barrier surrounded Angelus and Darla, trapping them where they stood. Angelus growled and slammed his body ineffectively against it. Spike stood up and dusted off his clothes. He grinned and lit a cigarette, blowing out a plume of smoke that wafted its way toward the two confined vampires to break against the barrier.

"Don't strain yourself, Angelus," Spike said, his grin growing wider. "That shield's already been vampire and slayer tested."

"Why," Darla demanded. "Why would you help them?" Her head jerked to indicate the various people now gathered in the room.

Giles and Wesley stood holding hands with a young blonde woman Angelus didn't know, chanting in unison. It was obvious they were the source of the barrier that kept the two vampires contained. Next to them stood Buffy, her slender body tense and stake held tightly in her hand, and behind her stood Cordelia, Xander and Gunn, all armed and on edge. The only one missing was Willow.

"You mean besides getting to screw Angelus over? What can I say?" Spike said in answer to Darla's question. His eyes flicked to where Buffy stood. "I've always been love's bitch."

Angelus stared at him in shocked surprise for a second, glanced over at Buffy and noted the uncomfortable look on her face, and laughed coldly. "Always after my leavings, aren't you, boy." He saw Buffy flinch, but she didn't say anything. "You don't think she's going to spread herself for you, do you? She's dumb, but she's not that stupid."

Spike just shook his head and shrugged. "Doesn't matter whether she ever loves me or not. I do what I do because she needs me."

"God," Darla spat out. "You make me sick. I wish Angelus had staked you as soon as Drusilla had dragged you home."

"Okay, everybody, I'm all ready now," Willow said as she entered the room holding what could only be the Orb of Thesulah. Angelus renewed his attempts to break through the barrier, but it held firm. He was so intent on trying to break free that he didn't notice the second woman until he heard Darla gasp. He turned his head to see what she was staring at and saw a young woman he recognized as Xander's Prom date following behind Willow holding a second Orb.

The two women set the Orbs on the floor, and then Willow sat down cross-legged in front of them and began to chant the Rom spell. Both vampires renewed their efforts to break free, but the barrier held, and the Orbs began to glow with the essences of their souls.

Willow's head snapped back and her eyes turned black as she spoke the final word and directed the souls. Angelus felt the sharp pain as the soul entered him. With a cry of anguish, he sank to his knees. Darla crumpled beside him. All the pain of the evil he'd done returned in a rush; all the guilt, all the horror. Beside him, Darla sobbed, softly chanting "No no no no no."

He gathered her into his arms and cradled her head against his chest. "I'm so sorry, Darla," he whispered brokenly. "I'm so sorry."


Epilogue

Three Months Later

Angel awoke and stared at the ceiling. Beside him, Darla still slept, cold and unmoving. The headquarters of Angel Investigations had returned to the hotel. Things were still fragile between him and his friends; not only because of his latest rampage, but because Darla was staying with him. She needed him right now. As a human, Wolfram and Hart's spell had worked to dampen any feelings she might have had about what she'd done when she'd been a vampire, but that protection was gone now, and Darla was suffering the full measure of the Gypsy's curse. Angel had had no one to help him learn how to deal with the pain, with the guilt, so he was determined to be here for Darla.

She shifted slightly in the bed, and he looked at her. That wasn't the only reason he'd wanted her to stay though. When her eyes fluttered opened, he rolled over until he covered her body with his own. She welcomed him inside her as she always did.


He came out of the shower, rubbing the towel over his head, and stopped when he saw Darla standing naked beside the bed, frowning down at her hands covering her belly.

"Something wrong?" he asked as he neared her.

She looked up at him, and then down again. She lifted her hands away from the small roundness that protruded from her usually taut belly, and asked in a concerned voice, "Do I look like I'm getting fat?"


The end