Third Story In The Group. And Not The Best Writing I've Ever Done. Blah.

They Still Don't Belong To Me. Grrr.

Thank Ya Much Miss Kayla Hate.

Ergh. Trying To Write This Story In The Middle Of A Storm Where The Lights Keep Blinking Off... Not The Best Of Times!


'You'll never be her.'

It had been awhile, but that bit of information was flying back at her with full force as she watched him watching her.

She had always told herself, but whenever it came to mind these days she always heard his voice from their last night together where he openly comfirmed why he could never be in love with her. Why he could never care for her the way she wished.

'You'll never be her.'

Her. Buffy Summers. Angel's ex-wife. The love of his pathetic existance. Mother of his children.

Darla sighed, taking a glass from the table beside her, downing it as Angel polished off another one himself across the room.

Holding the empty glass tightly, Darla's eyes slowly drifted from him over to her, watching Buffy right along with him.

And, for just a moment, all of the envy she had held toward one Ms. Buffy Anne Summers-Holtz was gone.

All the anger, all the frustration, all the resentment.

For that moment, she could only feel sadness and empathy for the woman, and also for the man that both of them called their ex, knowing he was looking at the same scene before him, knowing how he longed so deeply to fix the mess he had made with her.

Darla squeezed her eyes shut, memories came to her from the very few times that she had witness the pair when they were still that ever-loving and happy couple. Slowly opening them back up, she sat the small glass back down, then she turned her attention back to the pregnant ex-wife of Angel. Next, she looked back over at him, still drowning his misery away in glass after glass of alchohol. And her heart lurched, despite knowning better than to sympathize for either of them.

Any other time she would just put it off as they should have known better, that they just walked into their own misery.

And she too would fall into that little group. Because that's how it was.

It wasn't supposed to be that way though. Not for her.

It was just supposed to be fun, careless, no attatchments. Some good sex and company from time to time. She didn't care that he was recently divorced from the woman his world was made up of. She didn't care that every time he was with her it was killing him inside.

Somewhere down that line she did though. She started to care. She started to care for him. And if you knew anything about Angelus Holtz it was how bad of an idea that was.

It happened anyway. And she became another victim.

Before memories of their short-lived romance could come to mind, Angel stood up, looking as though he was ready to leave. She suddenly had a strange feeling flood her, one she couldn't even described. She watched him say something to Xander then turned and start walking away. Her eyes followed him until he was out of sight, then for some reason, she searched Buffy out again. Only she was heading for the door now herself.

Darla didn't know what came over her, but after a short moment or two, she followed suit. She didn't understand why she felt such a need to go after them but she went.

She missed the meeting, but not by long.

Staring down toward the crying woman, she felt even more drawn to her all of a sudden. Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her arms as she started down the stairs.

"Buffy?" she called softly.

Wiping her tears away, green eyes looked at her. They had never been introduced and Darla was sure she had no idea who she was.

She meant to ask if she was alright or if there was something she could do... instead, "Why did he leave you?" passed through her lips before she could stop it.

Buffy smiled sadly and looked down at her hands. Her wedding ring was still there. Darla knew Angel hadn't taken his off either.

"I don't know," Buffy finally answered, her voice barely a whisper.