Author’s Notes: Hey everyone! This is just a little Darla/Angel story that kinda just STARTS in the middle of an Angel the Series episode! So I decided to just write it! I have written about four other Angel/Darla stories. ((I’m a ‘violent’ romantic!)) Also, it’s finally penetrated my rather thick brain that there’s no way Darla’s hair was naturally curly. Well, screw that. I happen to like that line and I can’t figure out a suitable way to change it: (it’ll be straight like yours… uh… is.)(yeah, your hair is straight too you know) so for this story we’ll just pretend that Darla got one of those like nine-zilllion dollar permanent hair straightening jobs. That, or when she died it came back that way ;) Yes, I’m insane, I know. Deal with it.
Spoilers: Up to ‘’Waiting In The Wings”
Summary: What if Groo had just arrived when Cordelia saw him? Who else could have been at the door earlier, when Lorne was watching Connor?
Feedback: Yes! Feed the author, please! Critique/Comments/Enjoyment is greatly appreciated, honestly, just drop me a line! Goddess_Delenn@yahoo.com
Distribution: Aria can have it! Everyone else has to ask, all you have to do is click the above link and tell me you want it, I guarantee I’ll say yes, you just have to ask first!
Songs For This Fiction: “I act like shit don’t faze me, inside it drives me crazy! Then I see my baby; suddenly I’m not crazy! It all makes sense…” by Eminem, ‘Hailie’s Song’
Warnings: Sex: Nope. Violence: Nope. Language: Yes. Absolutely nothing worse then the show though, promise!
Pairing: Darla/Angel
Rating: PG-13.
Date started: February 26th 2002. Date Finished: Currently Unfinished.
I Come To You
By ~Delenn~
“He has my eyes, you know,” a voice from behind Angel muses.
Angel turns to see her humming ‘Oh Danny Boy’ and holding the baby; holding Connor. His voice is both startled, fearful, and questioning, “Darla?”
Cordelia steps back, away from Groo, hand unconsciously going to her neck and a slightly trapped expression on her face as Lorne stops her from running away. “Oh don’t worry, she’s not dangerous… She’s singing, I’d know.”
Eyes sparkling in either humor or mischievousness, Darla stops singing and half bounces the baby in her arms, “I forgot that Greeny does that.” She pauses to look down at the child she is holding, “Connor, I like the name.”
It’s hard for him to believe she is here, alive, again, so Angel continues to stare, ridiculously asking again, “Darla?”
His petite sire doesn’t even look up from holding Connor as she replies, words light and airy with definite amusement tracing them, “Yes, darling?”
Groo is about to make some questioning comment, but Cordelia puts her hand to his lips, not ready to deal with explaining all this when even she doesn’t know what’s going on or why such a dangerous creature is still being allowed to hold the baby. “When did she get here?” It’s all she can think to ask.
Lorne smiles slightly as he takes in mother and son, happy that he answered the door and not any of his comrades, “Oh, while you guys were out.” He steps closer to Darla and Connor, addressing the baby, “An’ we were all worried opening the door, thinking it was some big bad demon, weren’t we surprised!”
Slowly Wesley spoke, deliberately choosing his words, cautious, if bitter, “It would seem that your thoughts were correct, Lorne.”
Without concern of the comments being made Darla bounces the baby in her arms, the rich sound of her laughter filling the room. She moves next to Angel and extends Connor between them with both hands, holding him easily but carefully, “Honestly, precious, I can’t believe he looks so much like us! What do you say that he’ll have your hair?”
“Not as dark. He has your eyes though.” Angel has to force the reply from his lips wondering how he can stay so calm yet only able to remember those last few moments with Darla.
Fred ventures, “That’ll be pretty!” before she looks at her friends and decides that silence is a better option, she’s still not sure about all the complexities of all the relationships in the group.
Darla nods happily, shifting the baby to one hand so she can run her fingers over his face, eliciting a giggle from the child. She still has a hard time seeing herself holding something so squalling and needy, but she doesn’t want to let go either, “Mmm, he’s so full of life!”
Pointedly, Cordelia takes a defensive stance in the room and asks what nobody else seems willing to, “Then you’re not?”
Slipping into game-face, Darla quickly retains her normal visage when Connor smiles and claps his hands. “You’re kidding me, right?” The question is directed at Angel, although she continues to answer Cordelia’s earlier inquiry. “I might as well be, with this pitiful soul I inherited this time around. Angel is such a glutton for punishment putting up with his!”
Glancing nervously around the room towards the weapon chest, Gunn cautiously asks, “So you have a soul now?”
Darla smiles down at Connor, speaking half to Gunn and the others in the room, and half to her baby. “Oh, yes. I’ve done such wrong, I have so much to make up for... It’s almost enough to make mommy gag, isn’t it, Connor?” She looks up and shrugs towards Angel, her high spirits easily disappearing. “But I have more important things on my mind then redemption... my son.”
Unsurely, Groo asks, having watched the exchange carefully, “The child, Connor?” He looks to Cordelia for answers but she has eyes fixed on the two vampires and child.
The blonde rolls her eyes in a ‘can you believe this guy’ gesture, “I’m a vampire, what do you think?”
Research possibilities running through his head as surely as others would think of the names of family, Wesley can’t resist asking, “But your soul doesn’t bother you at all? All the people you’ve killed…”
Darla makes a sound that could almost have been a coo and ever-so-carefully hands Connor to Angel. Once she is sure that Angel has the baby, Darla turns to Cordelia and smirks. “You mean; do I feel bad about things like biting her? I do. It could drive me crazy if I let it. But, I’m not going to spend my un-life apologizing for things a demon did. I have my baby,” she takes the baby back from Angel, ignoring his protests. “Our child needs to sleep, my boy. We can discuss the tiresome details later.”
With that, Darla turns and walks towards Angel’s room, leaving behind a room full of stunned people. Finally, Cordelia moves close enough to hit Angel on the arm and asks, suspicious. “Angel! You’re not going to leave Connor alone with her, are you?!”
Angel sighs, “Darla does have some standards, Cordelia. She wouldn’t hurt Connor,” at the look he receives from the assembled group, and having a second to think about that statement; the vampire concedes. “I’ll go check on them.”
Blonde hair falling over her face, Darla stands over the crib, singing softly. She turns slightly when Angel enters but is still half looking at that baby, cautiously reminding, “He’s asleep already.”
Sitting down, Angel gestures for the other vampire to join him, peaking over the crib as he does so, just to be sure, “We’ll be quiet then,” at Darla’s smirk he requests her agreement, “all right?”
“What do you want to talk about, Angel?” Darla pretends to yawn and covers her mouth with her hand, this time there’s no mistaking a slight hitch in her voice when she says his name.
Sighing as he looks over at his former sire, Angel asks the question he would prefer not to, “How?”
Even though she grins, Angel recognizes a sign of confusion as Darla twists a piece of her hair, announcing, “Lindsey.”
It’s simple enough of an explanation, but he has to be sure before he tracks Lindsey down and makes sure that Darla’s telling the truth, “All right, why?”
Darla just shakes her head, as if she has been pondering this for a while, and she has been. “I really don’t know. He was in love with me, I think.” A soft smile graces her face as she thinks back on the things the mortal has done for her, “I can’t understand why else he would have brought me back.”
Hearing the unspoken why anybody would have brought me back, Angel shakes his head and lets it go, her reasoning making some sense. He’d long known of Lindsey’s obsession with both Darla and himself. “And the soul?”
Smiling again, Darla shrugs, not wanting to get into anything about Lindsey, “Stupid really, he figured I wouldn’t kill him with a soul.”
“What did you do, Darla?” Angel frowns as he thinks that maybe the former Wolfram and Hart employee didn’t deserve the things Darla could do to him.
Careful, Darla would break you in half… Darla raises an eyebrow, recalling how she used to so despise caring as a form of weakness and now she’s filled with it, “I…” she looks towards the crib and frowns also, “do you think he understands us?”
“I’m sure of it,” Angel nods, already believing Darla simply by her actions and his voice softening as he thinks of their child.
Looking worried for a rare second, Darla tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and murmurs, “I’ll tell you later… I mean there’s plenty of time before he has to learn about mommy and daddy.”
Angel can’t help a little smile at her concern for their baby, even if it’s tapered by the realization that eventually Connor will have to learn about their past misdeeds. “Right.” Surprise takes over as he feels a head lean against his chest and sees her eyes close. “Darla?”
“We’ll be able to hear if Connor stirs,” is the quiet reply, begging without saying for him to let it all go for a minute and relax, let them both relax. There’s times when eternity just seems so unbearably tiring.
Angel mutters his agreement and closes his eyes also, knowing that a moment like this isn’t likely to last and is rare enough to find in the first place. After a couple minutes, which feel like years, Darla asks gently, “Angel?”
His eyes open, the moment shattered by just having to see reality, “Yes?”
“You’ll still have protect him from me if something happens. I don’t trust Lindsey’s abilities with magic, and I won’t let anything happen to Connor because of me, no matter what,” she starts to sit up.
Holding Darla against him firmly, Angel’s motions urge her to lay back down, he won’t think about that very likely possibility right now, “Nothing will happen, promise.”
“I should’ve known you’d hop right back into bed with her,” her voice is sharp with both her own pain and the easily identified intent to cause pain.
The two figures spring up from the bed and into sitting positions faster than normal vision can detect. Brains race to recall first what was going on and then why they were laying in bed holding each other. The same damn bed. Angel speaks up first, “We were talking, watching Connor…”
Stiffening at the implications of this place and what the girl obviously thinks, Darla decides to finish Angel’s explanation, noting how he refuses to look at her now. “It’s not what you think,” at the snort she receives, Darla gestures downwards, “we’re dressed, aren’t we? Angel and I must have fallen asleep while we were talking.”
Conceding the slight point that her reaction was making a mountain out of nothing, clothes are still on everyone present; Cordelia still can’t help but remember the way they looked. So at peace. “So, what, you just happened to end up holding each other?”
Noting the slight screech to Cordelia’s voice and not wanting everyone else in the building to come in demanding explanations for his actions, practically able to feel her hurt, Angel delicately asks, “Can we please talk about this later, like adults?”
Stifling a slight sniffle, Cordelia nods, turning and walking back out of the room, determined not to break down. Once she is gone, Darla stands and harshly asks, “Are you sleeping with her?”
Stunned, Angel can think of nothing to say but the truth, “No,” nobody since you, sighing he points out, “the curse, remember?”
Turning her back to him, Darla smiles despite herself, she was the one he forgot the curse for, she had been there for him when he was lost in the darkness and depressed. She laughs at it, because it was a victory for her then and she refuses to not let it be a victory now. “Have you kissed?”
Angel’s rightfully worried at what this is all about, what Darla will do or say, he doesn’t know her like this but all his memories of her point out that her reactions can only be bad. Jealousy, he remembers. Gritting his teeth slightly, prepared for any attack, Angel states, “No,” at least, not without magical influence, he amends in his head.
This time allowing him to see her triumphant smile, Darla comes to stand right over Angel, both loving and hating the memories that gesture reminds her of. Leaning down she whispers, “Then tell the secretary that it’s none of her business. Why bother clarifying that,” we’re just friends is too ridiculous to say of them, even in her head, “nothing happened.”
Standing straight again, she spares a last glance at a sleeping Connor and turns to leave a baffled Angel. Darla won’t let anything come between her and their son, especially some silly secretary who feels threatened by her. Not looking back, she states, “Our affairs are our concern; they always have been. Don’t try to explain us, you never have been able to.”
In actuality, Darla and Cordelia had neither wandered very far from Angel’s room. Cordelia had stormed through a still horribly confused Wesley, Lorne, and Groo towards her room, Groo about to follow her before she called back, “I need to be alone right now!”
Only moments later, Darla had come through the three men and, pointedly ignoring them, had walked towards the refrigerator and grabbed a bag of Angel’s blood as well as a mug. She had then poured herself a glass, heated it in the microwave briefly, stored the remaining blood back in the refrigerator and settled down on the couch to sip her nourishment. Which is where she is currently residing, much to the bewilderment of the others in the room.
She is still sitting there, sipping the blood in her human mask, as Angel strides through the room. He sighs, seeing the questioning glances of his friends and pauses to request, “Try not to hurt each other, please? Connor’s still asleep,” before continuing through the room after Cordelia.
Darla doesn’t bother to look up, simply shrugging, knowing that Angel is on his way to have that ‘adult’ conversation with the secretary. She doesn’t expect the others to approach her at all and is thus rather surprised when Lorne comes to sit next to her, “How you holding up, sugar?”
Pulling her head up and back, and cocking it at a slight angle, she regards both Lorne and his question, deciding for the moment to ignore the term ‘sugar.’ Never in any of their previous meetings has she sensed any sort of camaraderie from the passive green demon. Still, there is no hostility in his red eyes that she can tell. “Me? I’m undead and kicking, again. What could possibly be wrong?”
Leaning in closer, eyes filled with the knowledge of one who has seen many lives and destinies unfold, Lorne whispers, quieter than the others can hear. “Keep telling yourself that, sunshine. Just remember, I heard you sing.”
Shaking off the shiver that this whole idea brings out in her, Darla reminds herself that she’s lived more than her fair share of lifetimes and that it doesn’t matter what this demon can see when she sings. The singing was for Connor, not anybody else. “Being a vampire, that is probably in inappropriate nickname,” she coolly informs Lorne.
Not daunted now that he’s seen, rather literally, into her newfound soul, Lorne agrees amiably enough. “I was referring to your oh-so-peasant attitude, but fair enough.” The green demon sat back, out of her personal space, and thought on it for a moment. “Guess you’re really more of a nightingale then, yeah?”
“Mmm,” she takes notice of the fact that Wesley and Groo are straining to hear her and Lorne’s conversation and at the same moment her enhanced hearing picks up the soft gurgles of a baby waking. The sound is unfamiliar to her but enough to let her know that Connor must be awake. One baby that she has no desire to hurt. “Just remember, I’m not your little soul boy, I still bite.”
And, determining the conversation over, Darla gets up with her mug of blood and wanders back towards Angel’s room to check on Connor. First baby she’s been around for any period of time since the Boxer Rebellion. And maybe she is more tamed than she thinks because she’s more disgusted by that fact and accompanying memories than delighted.
Knocking loudly on the door, Angel can’t help but sigh when all the response he gets is a muffled ‘come in.’ Nonetheless, he pushes open the door and enters one of the many of the hotels rooms, the one that Cordy has picked as her home-away-from-home.
Inside, Cordelia is sitting on her bed, her back to the door, thumbing through pictures, some recently of her, Angel, and Connor. Angel comes in and sits down next to her on the bed, cautious to make sure that his footsteps are audible to the human ear.
After a second or two of silence, Cordelia’s voice fills the room, “It feels like the ballet wasn’t the only place trapped in a time warp.”
Conceding her this point, Angel nods, almost relieved that she won’t look at him. Just an hour ago he recalls all these feelings, some of which he is pretty sure were lingering from the ballet spell, which were directed towards Cordelia. Now, all he can think about is Connor and what is going to be best for him with Darla, once again, alive. “I know everything is sudden right now. Groo and Darla suddenly showing up.”
At the mention of the other two people that are on her mind, Cordy jerks slightly away from Angel’s presence, shoving the pictures back into a box and the box under the bed. “There might have been some overreacting, but I can’t believe you’re just allowing her to be around, immediately.” Suddenly she has to question. “You’re not evil again, right?”
Taking a deep if unneeded breath; Angel spares a moment of think over all the answers and assurances that he can give her. Watches as she twiddles her thumbs and avoids his gaze. “Are we acting like adults now? Good. Cordy, this is none of your business. I could spend hours trying to assure you that nothing happened or is going to, but believe what you want; it’s not your concern. Darla is here to stay, Connor needs her.”
“You didn’t answer my other question,” she points out with a giddy, almost hysterical, laugh, even though she pretty much knows what the answer will be.
Getting up rather abruptly, Angel walks towards the door, only pausing right before he leaves. “I still have my soul, Cordy, and now, so does Darla.” And with that final comment, he walks out, content to let her work out the rest of her demons without him.
Cordelia sits there on the bed, thinking about what Angel’s said, her hand still absently rubbing that spot on her neck where tiny scars still reside from the one time she felt for Darla. She sits that way a long time, until the door opens again.
This time she lets the person who enters comfort her, in his own way. Let’s Groo try to make it all better for his ‘princess,’ even though he doesn’t really understand what’s wrong. She tries to remember that this is what she wants and that she’s safe with Groo, always.
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