Title: Reincarnate (1/1)
Disclaimer: Whedon owns Darla and someone else owns cheers
Spoilers: Season 3 of Angel, no real spoilers for Cheers
Summary: She’s been dead twice, alive twice, and sacrificed herself for her son. And the powers are giving her a fifth chance at something better.
A/N: 20 minutes with Darla. Reincarnate
When you die, you’re supposed to stay dead. Right? That was the rule of the universe. You weren’t supposed to wake up in your coffin and fight for your way out. You weren’t supposed to live for centuries on end, only to have your existence ended by the boy you thought you loved. You weren’t supposed to be alive three years later, mortal and breathing. You weren’t supposed to die again, and become what you once were. You weren’t supposed to get pregnant after you were dead.
But there’s that unwritten rule somewhere that I failed to see. I didn’t read the fine print. See, because even if you’re a being that is entirely evil, you can be redeemed.
My redemption was all because I staked myself to save my son. Connor. A boy I’d never live to see. Hoping, for the first time in my long and unusual life, that his father would take care of him. I was ready for hell, or heaven, or purgatory. Whatever awaited me in the afterlife. My name was Darla, and I was childe of the Master, Sire of Angelus, and mother to Connor Angel. I was human, vampire, human, and vampire again.
But the Powers that Be, weren’t done with me. Even if they’d never used me before.
* * * * *
Was it normal for a little girl to be running around a bar? Well, it was for this little girl. Her mother was a waitress here, and she was the apple of everyone’s eyes. She raced up to the stool and pulled her little body up. The bartender leaned over and tweaked her nose.
“Hey, kiddo. Where’s you’re mom?”
“Setting up the slide machine.”
“Ah geez, she’s not gonna show the -”
“The mating rituals of a bug.” The little blond girl shrugged her shoulders. “She says it’s educational. I don’t like her bug slides. She keeps talking about how the psyche works.” The little girl flung her arms over the bar. “It’s exhausting.”
“Move it, squirt. You’re in my seat.” A big burly man came up tickling her sides, an empty beer mug in his free hand.
“’M not ticklish!” She cried, through her giggles.
“Yeah. Sure, tell me another one.” He moved the little girl over to the next stool. “Gimme another one, Sammy.”
“Hey, Sam, I need a white wine and a beer for table seven.” A short curly haired waitress slipped in between them.
“Hiya, Carla.” The little girl looked up at the woman.
A blonde woman emerged from the back room. She gave a heavy sigh when she saw her daughter sitting at the counter.
“Darla Kathleen Chambers! You are supposed to be in here with me.”
“Darn, I got caught.” She dragged herself into the backroom, like a person sent to death row.
“Posture, young lady.” Diane Chambers called.
* * * * *
I got to relive a life. In Boston. In a bar where everybody knows my name.* * * end ficlet* * *