Oooh, I like this. I really like the way you twist Angel's lines around slightly for Connor--it's subtle, but noticeable.

I also love the language you use here:

Her voice is grainy, grinding between the cords of her throat, which are standing out, taut and angry, like the way sand stands in ridges, when the wind is very hard, and the land is very dry. The Destroyer looks down at her, still eyes a reflection of the sky. Buffy has not cried over Angel in years. She does not plan on beginning now.

That's just beautiful.