Jenny, Doyle, Veruca, Darla
Title:Better Off dead
Disclaimer: BtVS and Angel belong to Joss Whedon.
Timeline: This year so Buffy’s twenty six. Dawn's Nineteen etc
Location: All over the world.
Summary: Oh, if only Jenny, Doyle, Tara etc had lived. Then everyone would be married, have kids and be happy. Or would they? Each part is a seperate A.U. based on what could have happened if a certain character had not died.
Location: Kent U.K.
Two gaily painted caravans had appeared in the cottage’s back garden overnight, as if by magic. Three cart horses grazed on the wet grass. Five disreputably clothed people sat easily around a campfire, boiling a billy of tea.
Giles pulled the kitchens curtains across angrily. Bloody hell, again! He looked furiously at his wife, as she came into the kitchen.
“I see your tinker family is squatting in our backyard once more.” Giles slammed the kettle onto the gas burner.
“It’s only for a week Rupert.” Jenny opened the fridge door, taking out the orange juice.
“What damage will they do to the back lawn this time? Which of our neighbors washing will they steal off their clothes lines?” Giles shook tea leaves into the teapot. His demeanor reeked of disapproval.
“I’m sick of your anti Romany prejudices.” Jenny took a glass out of the cupboard.
“I’m equally tired of your welfare rip off artist family.” Giles returned, he frowned as his son entered the room.
“Mom, can I go fishing with Uncle Dai?” Five year old Harry asked his mother.
“Stop asking your Mum for permission you know won’t be granted by me. No, you can not. What’s Dai going to do, chuck a stick of dynamite in the local creek again? Ruin the whole bloody eco-system!” Giles poured the boiling water into the teapot.
Jenny glared infuriated at her husband. “I’m over here in the UK, because of your career. Do you think I like working as the Info-tech teacher at the Watchers Academy? So you can put up with my freaking family.”
“What, all one thousand of the dole bludgers'?” Giles spat out.
Harry left the kitchen bored. His parents would be at each others throats for hours again.
Location: Dublin Ireland
It was a cold winter’s night, the houses in the cobbled street only had a few lights showing.
“Will you come inside the house Princess?” Doyle pleaded with his wife. “It’s fucking freezing out here.”
Cordelia glanced up from where she had been crying on the front steps.
“Go to Hell Doyle.” Cordelia swiftly wiped her tear streaked face, with the back of her hand. “So much for the family vacation for Brittany to meet her grandmother. When I go back to L.A. I’m filing for divorce.”
“Cordelia god, it was one drink. Uncle Seamus would have been offended me darlin’.” Doyle wheedled. “Be reasonable.”
“No, I’ve put up with your damn drinking long enough, always you’ll stop and then you’re off the wagon again. Do I look like I’ve got 'doormat' tattooed on my forehead?” Cordelia stood up briskly, wiping the seat of her pants down. “Your Mom’s family are all Mick alcoholics you realize? I just hope Brittany doesn’t inherit your genetic disposition to poison yourself. It’s lame enough she manifests into a Brachen demon, every time she sneezes.”
“Cordelia stop.” Doyle put his hands up to his head. Spikes appeared over his face to soften the pain of his vision. “Two banshees down the road about to terrify a household to death.”
“Thank god, Angel and Connor came along with us this vacation.” Cordelia breathed. “Wanting to find out if Angel’s home in Galway still stood.”
“Thank God for Angel is it?” Doyle drawled, “Maybe I have reason to file for divorce too Princess, I’m not quite the chump you think I am, my lovely.”
Cordelia had had enough. “God you’re so pathetic, you’re not any kind of hero are you?”
Location: Seattle Washington
“Okay, Mr and Mrs Osbourne.” The nurse smiled at the young musicians in front of her. A very alternative young couple, obviously deeply in love. You saw that sometimes. Two people who were clearly soulmates.
Veruca lay on the hospital bed her tummy exposed. The tattoo around her navel was already starting to slightly distort.
Oz was laconically excited. They hadn’t realized Veruca was pregnant until yesterday. Her periods were so irregular. A werewolf thing. She was probably three months pregnant by now. Backdating from when Veruca had been too wasted to insert her diaphragm one night, when they were touring Vancouver.
But the couple, once they were over the shock of the double blue lines on the pregnancy testing stick, found themselves proudly pleased. It was natural, they were life mates. They should breed.
Veruca knew she was carrying twins, she had sensed it on last night’s full moon.
The nurse rubbed KY jelly on Vercua’s swollen belly. “Cold I know sweetie. But we should be able to see far more of your little guy’s development.” The nurse placed the ultrasound probe firmly on Veruca’s stomach. “Not that uncomfortable is it? Now what have we here? Two strong heartbeats! Twins! You both don’t seem surprised. Mostly parents keel over in shock at this. There is the left one’s head. They’re both boys! What is…?” The nurse went quiet.
Veruca peered anxiously at the screen, trying to analyze the black and white murky images. “Christ! Oh my god!” She took deep gulping breaths.
“It’s all of the good Veruca.” Oz held his wife’s hand reassuringly.
“How can you say that Oz?” Veruca looked at the ultrasound monitor in horror. “Our twins have tails!”
Location: Los Angles California
Darla opened the door to Connor’s father accusingly. “You’re half an hour late.”
“Run and play little guy.” Angel took Connor down off his shoulders. “I got held up in traffic Darla, freeway pile up.”
“Hi Mommy.” Connor held up his face to be kissed by his resouled vampire mother.
“Did my darling boy have a nice time at the amusement park?” Darla crooned to her beloved offspring.
“Uh huh. Daddy brought me two ice-creams, because I hit the targets every time.” Connor shared, he went off to his room.
“Custody arrangements only work if you keep to them Angel.” Darla folded her arms confrontationally.
“This is stupid Darla, I want to move back home, be with you, with Connor.” Angel put his hand to his immortal true love’s face. “Don’t you miss the whirlwind?”
“I don’t miss the brooding my sweet, and I don’t miss having to hear Barry Manilow sung off key in the shower every evening. Maybe we just worked out better as evil demons, than a souled couple.” Darla wasn’t taking his hand off her face.
“Don’t you want to stop feeling cold?” Angel swept her into his arms, devouring her mouth with a vampire’s obsessed and twisted passion.
“Okay wait. I’m not promising anything.” Darla took Angel into their bedroom. She pushed him onto the double bed. Taking out the discreetly hidden shackles. She handcuffed and chained him to the bed.
She pulled out a corked vase and undid the stopper.
Angel gazed up in besotted hope. “Does this mean?”
Darla climbed on the bed and knelt clothed astride him. “God doesn’t want you Angel, but I always do.” She bent forward, kissing him lustfully.
“I love you Darla, I always have…I, oh crap!” Angel's face twisted in pain, as his soul was torn from his body, disappearing into the mystic vase.
“Vi!” He cried out, because she was the slayer closest to them geographically at the moment.
“Welcome back Angelus.” Darla looked down into the demon visage of her husband. She climbed off the bed.
“Christ Darla, stake me, stake me!” Angelus begged her. “I can’t stand it. I had to queue for ten minutes tonight to ride the bumper cars. We’re going to the Wriggles concert for Connor’s birthday next week. I can’t exist through that nightmare.”
Darla got out the resouling spell, from the top drawer of her dresser. She started to read it out aloud.
“Darla please! You’re meant to be good now. Show me some freaking mercy! Stake me! Okay, I know. This will cause you to plunge wood into my chest. Darla, Angel has the hots for Fred, he does. Seriously, he likes to listen to her and Gunn boning in the Hyperion, when he’s working late at night.” Angelus looked hopeful. Let him explode into dust now!
Darla smirked. She knew that, she and Angel were still vampires. Darla liked to listen to humans screwing as well. She was more worried Connor, with his extra sensitive hearing, was not going to buy her explanation that Fred and Gunn were practicing demon slaying together.
AN: I have nothing personal against Gypsies, but the first part was based on an English flatmate’s rantings one day.
This story idea was inspired by Saturn's crack-fic Chapter ‘Gotta have more cow bell baby.’