TITLE: "Rekindling the Flame" 1/1
AUTHOR:Laure Alexander
EMAIL: lwilson@idir.net
DISTRIBUTION: If you like it, just ask; I've never said no. If you have my permission, please take.
SPOILER:Before the flashback eps this season
RATING:NC17
CONTENT WARNING:Graphic sex, a bit of language
SUMMARY:Begun before the flashback eps showed us the extent of the Darla/Angel relationship, this fic shows their first meeting since she kicked him out--some twenty five years later. Totally jossed, but I'm not changing it.
FEEDBACK:Please, please, please. No flames, please.
DISCLAIMER:I don't own Buffy and friends or Buffy the Vampire Slayer; they're owned by Joss Whedon and the WB Network. No copyright infringement intended so please don't sue.
NOTE: My muse seems to have come home. :)

She sensed his presence the moment he stepped foot upon this new land.

She could always sense him, feel him burning through her like the blood in her veins.

It had been twenty-five years since she had banished him from her hearth and home, from her bed. At the time, she couldn't stomach
what he had become. The thought of him touching her, tainting her with his purity, had disgusted her. For her own sanity, she had
forced him out into the cold.

Almost immediately she had regretted the decision, but she wasn't strong enough to try to find him. For a week she had felt him on
the edge of her awareness, hovering, in hunger and pain, cold and frightened.

Finally, she had fled Romania, returning to London, to sanity. There, in her Mayfair townhouse, amid the glitter and glamor of late Victorian society, she had lost track of him. The distance was too great for her to feel him, but she knew he was alive.

That was all she knew, and, in time, she forced herself to forget him. She learned to ignore the pang in her undead heart, the inevitable comparisons every time she took a new lover.

But, deep inside her veins, her Angelus remained, a part of her for all eternity.

At the end of the Great War, she followed the returning soldiers home to America. She never enjoyed ocean travel, preferring the comfort of coaches and trains, but she made the journey at the request of her sire. He was searching for the Hellmouth. She had only a dim interest in it, not really ready to see the world end, but obedience to her sire was ingrained in her.

Nest left her behind in New York City, and she settled into a less elegant, but still vibrant society. Her money could always open doors and she established a popular salon, and learned to make her own bathtub gin and do the Charleston. The short, slinky dresses suited her, and she bobbed her hair and put away her tiaras. She took lovers, and she danced the nights away, on the outside a carefree young woman with too much money and not a hint of innocence.

It was there, in her luxurious apartment across from Central Park, that she felt his presence anew.

Darla sank weak-kneed onto her bed, her hand clutching at her heart. It didn't beat, but oh...it wanted to.

Angelus was here, in New York, pounding in her veins for the first time in over two decades. He sung in her mind and when she closed her eyes, she could almost see him.

At that moment, Darla knew she had to see him. It didn't matter that he was infected with a soul, that he was no longer the monster she had created and loved for one hundred and fifty years. He was her darling boy, her beloved childe, and she had missed him. Forced to ignore his existence for her own sanity, she hadn't realized just how much she had missed him.

Darla knew he could feel her as well. Would he come to her? Would he dare? She had forced him from her home at the point of a stake. Would he remember that and fear she would do the same again? Did he...did he even need her?

Did his soul negate their bond? Although it still frightened and sickened her, her need for him overwhelmed all other emotions. Curling up on her bed, she remained there for the entire night until the rise of the sun drove her into a sleep full of remembrances.

*****

At sunset, Darla woke with a start and jumped from her bed. She bathed and dressed, only one thought, one need driving her. She had to find Angelus. Wrapping a black velvet cloak over her simple mint green dress, she left her apartment and stepped into her waiting car.

Closing her eyes and letting her senses find him, she directed her driver with monosyllabic commands. After nearly an hour they arrived at a warehouse near the East River docks. The car stopped and the driver helped Darla from the back seat. She disappeared into the shadows, tripping lightly down an alley towards a distant door.

He was here. She could feel him, feel his loneliness and his hunger. What had brought him to the New World? Had he...had he come looking for her?

Darla tried not to delude herself, but her need for him was so great that she wanted to attach her own desire to his actions.

Pulling open the heavy door, she stepped into a dank, dark room full of crates. The scent of blood hit her--poor, weak, mammalian of the lower orders. In the same far corner from which the scent of blood was emanating, came a dim light and she headed for it.

Although she walked silently, she must have alerted the corner's occupant to her presence because she heard scrabbling and then a low, rough voice, crying, "Who's there?"

As the familiar, beloved voice washed over her, Darla closed her eyes briefly against tears. He couldn't feel her? Couldn't sense her? He didn't remember her?

"Angelus?"

"W--who?" he stammered, rising from his crouched position, his back plastered to the wall behind him, his eyes blinking into the gloom.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Darla stepped into the dim pool of candlelight. "My childe..."

He blinked rapidly, as if clearing his vision, and a tremor ran through him. "...Darla?"

"Angel." All her love poured into her voice and she nearly staggered beneath the weight of the emotions, as she crossed the distance between them and pressed herself against him. Her hands caught his shoulders, feeling the skin pulled taut over his bones beneath the coarse and dirty cotton of his shirt.

He was too thin, his hair lank and greasy, pulled back in a tangled queue. He wore stained and smelly workman's clothes. But, beneath the grime, the hand that rose to cup her chin was broad and long fingered, and so incredibly gentle, just as she remembered.

His eyes, so soft and dark, held hers, questioning, shocked by her presence.

"You told me to leave and not return," he stammered out, as if that was the only thing he could focus on.

"I was wrong." Raising up on her toes, she tugged his head down and kissed him passionately. Delighting in his instinctive response, she pulled back and gave him a happy and mischievous smile. "Come with me, my love. This is no place for our reunion."

Taking Angelus' hand, she pulled his hesitating body from the warehouse.

The drive back to her apartment was accomplished in silence, neither knowing what to say. Angelus was fascinated by the automobile, the softness of the leather, the grind of the gears, the smell of gasoline and motor oil. Darla watched as he explored with his hands, smiling at the curiosity in his eyes.

He had always been such a curious boy.

In the foyer of her lavish apartment, he held back, hunching slightly and blinking against the bright lights.

"I'm...too dirty. I don't belong here," he mumbled.

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and tugged him up the stairs. He didn't really resist, but he wasn't totally willing either. "I shall bathe you and dress you in the finest clothes. You belong here, Angelus."

In the bathroom, as the bath filled with hot water, Darla carefully removed his clothes, trying not to flinch at his near skeletal appearance. Exotic bathsalts foamed beneath the stream of water, sending the scent of lilies and jasmine into the air. Taking his arm, she helped him into the bath, smiling as he groaned in pleasure and sank beneath the bubbles.

Darla quickly stripped to her corset and stockings, adding a thin robe before dropping to her knees beside the tub and reaching for a soft sponge. Dipping it in the water, she began to bathe her childe. The grime washed off easily, but beneath it were bruises that only fresh blood would heal.

Trying not to show her dismay at the condition of his body, she cupped water in her hands and poured it over his head. Angelus' eyes flickered open and he gave her a hesitant smile.

"It feels good to be clean again, but you shouldn't be tending me like this, sire."

"I like tending you like this. Now, shhh, and let me wash your hair." His eyes closed again and she poured shampoo into her hand, then gently began to massage it into his hair. He didn't purr, but he did arch into her hand, and she smiled, pleased at the reaction.

When Angelus was clean to her satisfaction, she pulled the plug on the tub and helped him stand, washing off the dirty soap bubbles with fresh water. Her eyes dropped to the thick, yet flaccid staff between his legs, and she unconsciously licked his lips.

Everywhere else he was thinner than normal, but there...he was just as she remembered him in her most feverish dreams.

Reaching for a thick towel, Darla dried him off, then rose and took his hand, pulling him into her bedroom, murmuring, "I can't wait any longer."

Dropping her robe, she crawled onto the bed, turning onto her back, her head propped up on several pillows. The ivory satin corset she wore reached only to the underside of her breasts, making them thrust high and firm. She wore no pantaloons, her blonde mound framed by the garters that extended from the corset to her ivory stockings.

Licking her lips, she beckoned Angelus to her with one finger, as her other hand slipped between her spread legs. "It's been too long, my love."

"...Darla." Angelus swallowed hard, his eyes running over her nearly nude body with increasing heat. Lust swelled in him, filling his cock.

She nearly crowed at the sight of it rising, hardening and lengthening. She'd found no male, vampire or human, in the past twenty five years that had been as well endowed. An unnecessary breath caught in her throat as she wondered if she'd be able to take it without pain this first time in way too long.

Smiling, she spread her legs wider and reached for him.

"Fuck me hard, my darling. I've been in need for so long. And, you...has no one tended to you recently?" She could tell that he was having trouble controlling himself, something that hadn't been a problem since his fledgling days.

"No one," he stammered, stumbling over to the bed. "No one at all."

Darla's eyes widened. "You haven't had a lover in the time we've been apart."

Angelus shook his head helplessly and sank onto the bed. "The guilt...the horrors..." He continued to shake his head. "I didn't deserve..."

"Oh...my darling boy," Darla murmured, wrapping her arms around him and drawing his head down to her breasts. She felt tears spill onto her skin, and petted him gently. "Darla will make it all better."

After a few minutes, she felt his tears stop, and the wetness was replaced by his rough tongue, lapping hesitantly across her breasts. Releasing him from her embrace, she smiled and squirmed as desire bolted through her.

"No need for foreplay, love. I know you need it. We have all the time in the world..."

Lifting his head, Angelus tried to determine if she meant it. Her eyes glittered up at him, and her lips were parted in a silent pant of need. Slowly he slid his fingers between her legs and felt how wet she was.

"I've been wet since I felt your presence."

Looking at the glistening secretions on his fingers, Angelus reverently raised them to his lips and sucked them clean. "You taste so good...like home..."

"Come home, my darling one, come home between my thighs." As she reached for him again, he moved to kneel between her legs, sliding his hands to her knees and pushing them back towards her head. As he leaned over her, Darla let her legs fall onto his shoulders and bit her lip in anticipation.

"Plow me hard," she commanded breathlessly, her body straining against his.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Angelus thrust forward, driving his throbbing cock into her cool passage. She was tight, her muscles well trained and clenching around him, but she was also slick with need. As he sheathed himself completely, he lost control, and, with a growl, began to pound into her.

"Yes, yes, yes," Darla screamed, her fingers sliding into his hair, tugging his mouth to her breasts, as she met each hard thrust. His cock was so hard and cold and was hurting her so wonderfully.

Eyes crossing in blinding need, Angelus moved on instinct, not caring if his lover was finding any pleasure, too desperate to reach his own release. As his orgasm churned through his testicles and into his cock, he buried his fangs in Darla's throat, drinking deeply of her rich blood.

Darla screamed again, her own orgasm shuddering through her as her childe fed on her for the first time in too many decades. He hadn't asked permission, but she didn't care, too caught up in the rapture.

With a howl, Angelus flung his head back, blood dripping from his fangs, his eyes blindly staring at the ceiling, and thrust wildly into her, coming with seemingly endless vigor.

As he collapsed on her, gasping for unneeded air, Darla clung to him, sobbing in joy.

"Home, I'm home," Angelus mumbled into the soft flesh of her breasts, as he drifted to sleep.

"Yes, my darling boy."

*****

Sometime later, Darla was awakened by the sensation of lips tugging on one of her nipples. As she opened her eyes, a smile crossed her
face, and she lifted her childe's head to place a soft kiss on his lips.

"And how long have you been playing with me, my Angel?"

He grinned down at her and moved between her spreading legs. "A while now."

One of her hands snaked down his lean chest and stomach to wrap around his erection. "Um, I see that." Arching her hips, she guided him along her slick cleft to her tingling entrance. His hands moved beneath her, lifting her to meet his first deep thrust.

Darla growled and wrapped her legs around his hips, moving with him at a fast, hard pace. Her fingers moved over his back, her fingernails scraping at his hard skin, leaving narrow bloody grooves as she morphed into her demon. She felt him change as well, and cried out as his fangs found her throat, sinking easily through the soft flesh.

As her blood spilled into his mouth, Darla retaliated by biting his shoulder. As they fed on each other, their bodies erupted in a wild, bucking orgasm that went on and on until they collapsed, limp and sated. They kissed, tasting their own blood on the others tongues and teeth, and rolled on the bed.

Coming over him, Darla rose to her knees, settling onto his still hard cock. Blood dripped over her breasts, staining the corset, but she was oblivious, driven by the pulsing pleasure between her legs. As she began to ride him, his hand found her clit, rubbing it ruthlessly until she keened loudly and slammed down harder on him.

Another orgasm ripped through her and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, holding on as she hissed his name and shuddered uncontrollably.

Sitting up, Angelus thrust up into her several times, watching the desire begin to grow again in her golden eyes. He lifted her off of him and onto her stomach, then moved between her legs again. Running his hand along her cleft, he tweaked her clit and smiled at her whine of need, then spread their combined secretions up to her delicate rosette.

At the feel of his cock pressing against her rear portal, Darla's eyes widened and she squirmed up onto her knees. "Oh yessss," she hissed, digging her fingers into the pillow beneath her head.

Gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, Angelus drove into her, growling as her sphincter muscles clamped around the head of his cock. "Relax..."

"Fuck me," she demanded, thrusting her hips backwards as she tried to relax her inner muscles.

His cock slid farther into her and he leaned forward, pushing hard. As his pelvis slapped her rounded bottom, she yelled in painful pleasure, her body spasming around him.

"Again!"

Obediently, he pulled back and thrust again, harder and faster. Blanketing her body, he began to pound into her, feeling her meet his thrusts, her body opening for him. Braced on one hand, he slid the other between her legs and caressed her slick, swollen labia before pinching her clit and making her scream in pleasure.

As Darla fell into another wild orgasm, Angelus pulled out of her and sat back on his heels, watching her bruised passage slowly close. She gasped and mewled into the pillow for long moments, before she realized he hadn't climaxed.

Shaking from her most recent release, Darla rose to her knees and pushed him onto his back. Angelus went willing, his eyes burning into her. Sliding her eyes from his, she gazed longingly at his glistening, throbbing cock, then sank to her stomach and wrapped her hand around the base.

Angelus groaned and closed his eyes, arching his head back into the pillow, and clenching his fingers into the bedding. At the first lick of her tongue across his aching tip, he howled and bucked into her mouth. Her lips closed and she sucked hungrily, her fingers pumping him to the edge of her throat.

With another howl, this one muted in the pillow he had dragged across his face, Angelus came, filling her mouth with his seed. Eagerly swallowing, she milked him dry, smiling as he trembled and jerked beneath her.

Finally, Darla raised her head and moved to curl up next to him. Angelus' eyes were closed, his nostrils flared, his body limp, and she lightly wrapped one arm across his chest.

"Sleep beloved one, just sleep."

Smiling in delight, she let herself drift off as well.

*****

At some point during the long day, Darla rose and gave orders to her loyal human servant, then returned to Angelus' loose embrace.

*****

The scent of fear awakened Darla the next time, and she felt a flow of strength go through her. Nightfall, and she was rejuvenated after
a wonderful and energetic night of sex. Smiling down at her still sleeping childe, she rose and stripped off her soiled clothes. Wrapping herself in a robe, she exited the bedroom for the sitting room and the gift her servant had brought her.

A young man lay on the floor, bound and gagged, his eyes wide with terror. Darla smiled and crouched beside him, running one finger along a bruise marring his forehead.

"Perfect."

Grabbing the boy, she dragged him to his feet and into the bedroom, calling, "Wake up, my love. I've brought dinner." She stood patiently at the end of the bed, waiting for Angelus to awaken.

He did so slowly, a bit disoriented and groggy. She could feel the hunger and need in him. Her blood had helped strengthen him, but he needed fresh human blood to finish the job.

Angelus sat up, his eyes focusing on the young man cowering in his sire's embrace. "What is this, Darla?" he asked, a bit fearfully.

"Dinner." Darla smiled and let her demon slip free. She was feeling a bit peckish herself.

Swallowing hard, Angelus shook his head and slipped from the bed, moving away from the pair at the end of the bed. "I can't, Darla. I don't...I don't feed on humans. I can't," he repeated, his voice full of old pain.

Eyes narrowing, Darla flung the young man onto the bed and stalked over to her childe. "What are you talking about? You're weak and starving. Only human blood will restore you."

"I can subsist on animal," he began weakly.

"Animal? Like rats and other vermin?" she cried, slashing her arm in dismissal of his words. "We are vampires, Angelus, not carrion eaters."

"My soul..." He looked away from her, the shame and guilt he had allowed her to excise in her bed returning in double measure. "I shouldn't...we shouldn't...I shouldn't have come here."

Darla grabbed his shoulders, jerking him around to face her. "You are my childe, my *childe*, Angelus. You will obey me in this. You will feed on this pathetic scrap of humanity and grow strong again, and we shall be together forever."

Shaking his head sadly, Angelus pulled free of her grip. "I'm sorry, Darla. I can't do that. Any of it. I'm not your childe anymore."

"And last night?" she choked out. "Last night meant nothing?"

"Last night was wonderful, but I don't deserve such wonder, and I can't...kill, not even for you."

"I love you," she tried desperately.

"I can't love anyone," he whispered back, his voice cracking.

Slowly the truth of his words sank into her and Darla began to realize just what had changed in Angelus. Stepping back from him, she sank down onto a settee, her fingers twisting into the silk of her robes.

"Then you should leave," she finally said, very sadly.

Angelus turned and walked into the bathroom for his clothes. After quickly dressing, he slipped from the bedroom without a sound. Darla never looked at him, her eyes buried in the folds of her robe and the holes her fingernails were gouging through the silk and into her thighs, as sorrow and loss overwhelmed her.

End

Laure