Title: Showing Him the World
"Your hand!" Darla shouted down to Angelus.
"Can't let go," he mumbled back through gritted teeth, desperately clinging to the door that slid back and forth as the train rocked around the dark mountainous curve.
"Angelus, you can't just hang there until we reach Hamburg," Darla said with an audible sigh. Standing to her full height and running her hands over the front of her dress, she put on her best effort to look unconcerned with her lover's plight.
"Tis not my intention to dangle the length of Germania, Darla," Angelus said in a saccharine voice, "Of course, if yer willing to give me your hand again I'll do me very best to avoid pulling you into the ravine after me." With a nervous laugh, he looked down his chest into the blackness below.
Darla stood watching for a moment, weighing her options, and spending more than a few seconds cursing her boy's utter inability to enjoy such a simple thing as a rail trip without starting a brawl. Had she not snapped his opponent's neck when she did he very well would have been somewhere at the bottom of the Bükk.
As though reading her thoughts, Angelus turned his eyes downward and thanked her. Struggling to wipe the sweat forming on his brow, he pulled himself up until his chin was almost resting on the floor of the train car. "A little help would go a long way in earning m' gratitude about now."
"Very well," Darla cooed, making a show of pulling a thick leather belt from the trousers of the dead man beside her. Threading the end through the buckle, Darla formed a loop. In one motion she reached down, slid the loop over Angelus' wrist and heaved him up over the side of the train until he landed in a heap at her feet.
After a moment's thought, Angelus sprung to his feet, tucking his disheveled hair behind his ears. "As always, I owe you my life."
"If you do not learn to temper your, temper," Darla said with a pause, "until the end of a journey you'll be owing me your death too." Turning away from his smile, a smile that sang of triumph even though it had been he who had flown arse first off the train, Darla could hardly contain a grin of her own. There was no such thing as defeat in his eyes so long as they lived to tell the tale, that had not changed in the century since his turning.
"Aye, but ye'll forgive me, won't you Darla," he whispered into her neck, nuzzling behind the soft tendrils of hair that fell from her tightly woven bun.
"I may forgive you once we reach Hungary," she agreed, curling into his touch as he ran soft fingers over her hips and smoothed the lines of her corset. "Now you have work to do."
"True," Angelus lamented. Bending down, he pulled a few bills from the man's breast pocket before unceremoniously tossing him out the door and into the darkness below.
"And the rest," Darla said waving her hand over her head as she settled onto the hard couch that lined the side of the compartment.
Angelus set about removing the half dozen bodies that littered the car while Darla pointed out areas that needed an extra swipe of the cloth. When done, Angelus pitched the bloodstained rags over the side and pulled the door shut, the sound of the latch signaling a peace and quiet deprived them since the first man in the car had asked if Angelus was English.
Throwing himself onto the seat beside Darla, Angelus leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes as his body moved in sway with the train. "How much further?"
"At least two hours," Darla said as she placed her hand in Angelus' and closed her eyes as well.
"It'll be near to daybreak," Angelus said, opening one eye ever so slightly.
Darla lifted her hand and gently smoothed his brow, closing his eyes. Resting her head against his shoulder she hushed him, sliding her fingers across his lips. "We'll have plenty of time for an adventure before the sun rises."
Angelus made a sound of approval, slipping off to sleep almost instantly.
"Don't worry love," Darla whispered into his ear, "There's still much of my world to show you."