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Title: What is Wrong and What is Right
Author: Karen U
E-mail: ksu2@juno.com
Rating: PG-13 (just to be safe)
Couple: Willow/Lindsey
Disclaimer: All BtVS and Angel characters belong to Joss Whedon, the WB, and
Fox, among others
Distribution: Charity, if the Willow_Lindsey list has an archive, whoever
runs it is welcome to this, otherwise ask and you shall receive
Spoilers: post Restless and To Shanshu in LA; this is set in the fall of
2000
Summary: Willow leaves Sunnydale to escape her problems and gets more than
she bargained for
Feedback: I love it
Notes: This is my first attempt at a W/L, so please be gentle...
Part One
Willow Rosenberg pushed her hair back, sighing as she looked around the
small apartment she would be calling home for at least the next year. It
had only one bedroom, and the kitchen was tiny, but it had everything the
redhead needed. Willow had had the option to live in an upperclassmen dorm,
and she had considered it until she realized that renting an apartment would
actually cost less than getting a single room in the dorm, and the redhead
knew that she did not want a roommate. She didn’t care for the thought that
she would have to hide all of her magic supplies, and she knew that was what
would happen if she had a roommate. Not everyone was as understanding as
Buffy was when it came to magic.
Buffy.
Willow missed her best friend terribly, even though she had seen her only
the day before. With a quick shake of her head, Willow tried to banish the
thoughts of all things Sunnydale from her head. It wouldn’t do her any good
to sit around and think of the others. It would just make her depressed,
and she didn’t want that. The others weren’t depressed. Sure, they
probably missed her and everything, but Xander had Anya to keep him busy,
and Buffy had Riley to pull her out of any funk she might end up in. Giles
was busy living his life as a man of leisure, and Spike... well, who really
knew all that much about the vampire to begin with? And Tara... well, there
were names for people with Willow’s luck when it came to love.
Losers.
Willow winced at the harshness of her own thoughts. She was also angry with
herself for thinking about Tara. It wasn’t that she missed the witch or
anything. After a few months, the girl’s puppy dog devotion had begun to
grate on her nerves. Then, of course, there was the reason behind Tara’s
devotion. Anyone up for some power stealing? Tara sure had been.
Thankfully, Willow had been able to figure it out before any real damage had
been done, although spells still left her a bit weak. Then there had been
Graham. Riley’s friend was wonderful, but he was only a friend, despite how
mouth-wateringly gorgeous he was. Even so, she missed the man. Of course,
if she called him, there was always the chance that Riley would answer the
phone. He and Graham were roommates, after all. And Buffy sure spent a lot
of time at the guys’ apartment, so she could actually be the one to answer
the phone. No, Willow decided, she definitely couldn’t call Graham.
Of course, she could always call someone else...
Wrinkling her nose slightly, the redhead reached for her phone, then jerked
her hand back. No. She would not call Angel. Or Cordelia. Or even
Wesley, for that matter. None of them knew that she had transferred to
UCLA, and she planned to keep it that way, at least for awhile. After her
most recent experiences, she wanted - no, she needed - to forget about the
Hellmouth and all the evil that lurked out there. Being around a vampire,
no matter how dear he was to her, didn’t exactly fit into her current plans.
Willow may not have considered him evil, but she knew Angel certainly
touched it every single day. And he didn’t just fight the evil around him;
he fought the evil in himself as well.
And why was she thinking about all of this? She had come to LA, alone, and
chosen to stay alone, at least for awhile, in order to forget about all the
bad guys and have some time to herself, and what was she doing? She was
sitting in her room, thinking of everyone and everything she was trying to
avoid.
Man, she was pathetic.
She was also hungry, Willow realized as her stomach growled impatiently.
She glanced at the refrigerator in her little kitchen, knowing that she
didn’t have much in it, and certainly nothing that she actually wanted to
eat at the moment. And the state of her non-perishables was about the same:
nothing she really cared for at this point in time. With a small grimace,
the redhead rose from the couch that sat in her living room and reached for
her purse as she slipped on her shoes. She cursed softly as the strap of
her sandal snapped, and she quickly bent down to touch the strap, using her
magic to repair it. At the same time she made a quick mental note to buy a
new pair soon, even though she hated the thought that she’d have to replace
the shoes. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the cash to. She had more than
enough money, what with the fact that school was being paid for courtesy of
a transfer scholarship, and her parents, though they would never be mistaken
for attentive, had made sure she had access to plenty of money. Not to
mention that little software program she’d sold the month before. Oh, yes,
she could definitely afford a new pair of shoes. She could afford dozens of
pairs of shoes. It was just that this happened to be her favorite pair.
Willow rose to an upright position slowly, angry that a spell as simple as
repairing a shoe could leave her so shaky. It shouldn’t be like this. She
shouldn’t be so damn weak. If she hadn’t trusted Tara...
No. No thinking about that now.
Sighing softly, Willow exited her apartment and headed for the nearest store
that sold food. It turned out to be a small corner store, a gas station
food mart that was probably once a 7-11, then a Stop N’ Rob (as Xander liked
to call them), and now it didn’t even have a name, or even a gas pump. That
part had been torn out, although it was still obvious that it had once been
there. The place was definitely a dump.
But it did have food.
Willow smiled when she saw the ice cream that was in the freezers in the
back, and she quickly reached in and pulled out a couple of pints. Given
the mood she was in, she could easily down them both, although she would
probably feel pretty sick later on. With a sigh, the redhead browsed the
rest of the store, picking up a few more items of junk food: a bag of
Reese’s Pieces, some Doritos, and a bottle of Pepsi. Not exactly the dinner
of champions, but it worked for her. Willow made her way to the front cash
register and paid for her choices, then left the store, her purchases in
brown paper grocery bag.
After about a block, the bag began to get a bit heavy, and Willow shifted
the bag in her hands just as she felt the sandal strap she had repaired less
than an hour before break. "Damn it," she muttered as she glanced down,
wondering if anyone would notice if she magically repaired it again.
And that was when it happened.
One minute, she was cursing at her shoes, the next, she was sprawled on the
pavement. "And the day gets even better," Willow muttered as she pushed
herself into a kneeling position and began to grab her things. "I’m sorry.
I wasn’t even looking where I was going," she told the guy - at least, she
assumed it was a guy; he was wearing what she would consider guy shoes and
he had certainly run into her with enough force to weigh as much as a guy -
that was kneeling in front of her.
"No, you weren’t, but neither was I," the guy - yup, the voice was
definitely male - said as he put a pint of ice cream back in her bag. "Are
you okay? I hit you pretty hard there."
"Yeah, I’m fine," Willow told him. "Believe me, I’ve had worse," she
muttered under her breath.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing; don’t worry about it. Thanks for helping me pick up my stuff."
"No problem. I mean, I did help you send them flying across the pavement,"
he reminded her as he stood up, reaching out a hand to help her stand. With
a jolt, the redhead realized that it was his only hand. The other was a
prosthetic. Trying not to act surprised, Willow accepted the offered
assistance, holding her bag in one hand as she took his hand with the other.
As he helped pull her to her feet, she glanced up at his face for the
first time, and she could barely keep her mouth from dropping open in
surprise.
The man before her had brown hair that was just a tad too long; at the
moment it was falling into his eyes. His eyes were blue-gray, a bit more
blue than gray at the moment, the blueness being brought out because of the
shirt he was wearing. A small smile curved his lips, and she could tell
that, when used in full force, he had to have a killer grin. He was,
without a doubt, one of the most attractive men she had ever seen in her
life.
And she had just made a complete fool of herself in front of him.
Part Two
Lindsey McDonald stared at the young woman who stood in front of him. Her
skin was as pale as that of a vampire, but the warmth he had felt when she
put her hand in his told him that she was indeed human. She was also
incredibly lovely.
Wide green eyes stared out at him from a porcelain-like face. That lovely
face was framed by chin-length red hair that curled riotously. The young
woman was very slender, and her pale skin was smooth and unblemished. An
innocent, almost fragile aura seemed to flow from her.
And he had run into her like a damn Mack truck. How’s that for a great
first impression?
Suddenly, someone jostled the young woman from behind, and the spell that
had seemed to be surrounding them broke as Lindsey was forced to move. He
quickly reached out to steady her, trying not to notice how nice it felt
when her body bumped up against his. He tried to remind himself that she
was too young for him. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old,
and he had the sinking feeling that even that was stretching it a bit.
"Sorry about that," the young woman muttered as she stepped away, a light
blush staining her cheeks.
"Hey, he’s the one who ran into you," Lindsey reminded her. "That's the
second person to run into you in less than five minutes. The other being
me."
"Yeah. I guess I must have a hit me sign on my back or something," she said
with a small laugh. Her brow furrowed in confusion as Lindsey leaned over
her shoulder, then pulled back with a grin on his face.
"Well, I don’t see a sign anywhere," he told the redhead, trying to ignore
the fact that the smile she graced him with could light up a room. He
didn’t know why he was acting this way. He was not the type of guy to stand
around making small talk - well, okay, flirting - with some girl on the
street. And certainly not this type of girl, either. Not that there was
anything wrong with the slender redhead standing in front of him or
anything. No, she was incredibly lovely. Definitely pretty, and verging on
beautiful. She just wasn’t his usual type. Her simple skirt and tank top,
which she wore with a pair of old sandals and absolutely no jewelry and very
little - if any - makeup, didn’t exactly fit in with the sexy, sophisticated
image he was usually attracted to. Which was why there was absolutely no
way he was attracted to this girl.
He was almost certain of it.
"Are you okay?" the young woman asked softly, concern marring her delicate
features.
"Yeah. I’m fine. I was just... thinking," Lindsey replied, suddenly
realizing that he had probably been standing there, simply staring at the
girl for the past five minutes. No wonder she looked concerned. She
probably thought he was some type of a weirdo or something. Not that she
would even know what numerous things could fall under the category ‘or
something.’ Which, of course, was another reason why he could not be
interested in her. There was no way he could allow someone so innocent to
get involved with a guy as, well, evil - for lack of a better word - as he
was. Not that he usually cared about that sort of thing. But she was
standing in front of him, just exuding innocence... And damn it, he’d
thought he’d completely gotten over that little attack of conscience he’d
had last spring. Sometimes he still had trouble believing that it had
actually been him... that he’d actually gone to Angel, of all people. Well,
of all vampires, anyway.
"Oh. If you’re sure you’re okay then," the redhead said softly, once more
drawing Lindsey’s attention to the fact that his mind had been wandering.
He quickly focused back on her, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring
smile.
"I’m okay. Really. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately." And he had.
He was in the middle of a particularly nasty case that involved a teenage
boy, a length of rope, several knives, and two mutilated bodies. It wasn’t
the type of case he usually took, and he was hating every minute of it. He
knew that the teen was guilty, and he usually wouldn’t give a damn if the
kid got the book thrown at him, but in this case, the psycho in question
just so happened to be the son of one of Wolfram and Hart’s biggest clients.
Hence the reason why Lindsey was working his butt off to get the little
bastard acquitted. The case was actually the reason he happened to be
taking a walk just then. He’d been in his apartment, going over every last
detail just one last time, when he had decided that it was time for a break.
"Oh, well, as long as you’re okay and all. I guess I should get going," the
redhead told him as she began to step around him, stumbling slightly.
Lindsey’s gaze immediately dropped to her feet, looking for what she had
tripped over.
"The strap’s broken," he muttered as he bent down to look at her shoe. He
felt her jumped slightly when he touched her ankle. "Did you hurt your
ankle?"
"What?" she asked, her wide eyes focused on his face. After a second, his
question registered, and she shook her head. "No. I’m fine."
He smiled slightly when he realized that it was simply his touch that had
caused her to jolt. The smile was still on his face when he returned his
gaze to her delicate ankle. She certainly had great legs. He was dying to
run his hand up... No. He could not do that. It would be wrong... Of
course, he had never been one to care about right and wrong. But, he
reminded himself, running his hand up the leg of a girl he didn’t even know
could get him arrested for assault, and how would he explain that to the big
wigs at Wolfram and Hart? With a rueful smile, Lindsey stood, putting some
distance between his hands and the redhead’s almost irresistible legs. "So,
um, did that happen when I ran into you?" he asked her gesturing to her
broken shoe.
"Just before, actually," she told him, wrinkling her nose in the most
adorable manner as she gazed down at the offending piece of worn out
leather. "That’s why I wasn’t looking where I was going. It’s something
like the fourth time the strap’s broken, if you want to know the truth. I
keep repairing it... and it keeps breaking again. And I’m just too damn
stubborn to throw them out, I guess. They are my favorites, after all."
"I used to have a pair of sneakers like that," Lindsey admitted, smiling at
her.
"Really?" the redhead asked, raising her eyebrows. She looked Lindsey up
and down, taking in what he considered his ‘casual wear’ - a blue polo
shirt, khakis, and loafers. "Somehow I don’t picture you as the sneakers
type."
"I used to be."
"I’m guessing you aren’t anymore?"
"Doesn’t really fit with my job," he told her, wondering if she would ask
him what he did for a living. Some women got annoyingly sweet and
flirtatious when they found out he was a lawyer, while others simply cracked
a few jokes about lawyers being slime and moved on. Somehow, the young
woman in front of him didn’t seem the type to go with either of those
reactions.
"Oh. Well, I’m sorry to hear that. I think everyone needs to dress down
and just goof off every once in awhile," she told him. "Anyway, I had
really better be going. As you well know, I’ve got ice cream in this bag,
and I don’t want it melting all over me, which it will probably be doing
shortly. It was nice... running into you. Or did you run into me?" she
said with a grin, then turned to go.
"Wait a second!" Lindsey called out, mentally chastising himself. He really
should just let her go. So what if he was attracted to her? It wasn’t as
if anything would ever come of it. He’d probably never see her again.
The redhead paused and turned, raising her eyebrows in question. "Yes?"
"It’s just..." he trailed off, then shrugged. Even if he never saw her
again, there was one thing he had to know. "I did just help you pick up all
your stuff. Don’t I at least get your name out of it?"
The young woman considered that for a moment, then smiled. "Willow."
Willow. Her name was almost as pretty as she was. He smiled back at her.
"I’m Lindsey."
"It was nice meeting you, Lindsey," Willow replied before turning to go.
Lindsey watched her until she turned the corner, disappearing from sight.
After she was gone, he turned and went on his way, shaking his head as he
tried to figure out just what the hell had gotten into him.
Part Three
It had been three days. Three days since he had run into the
oh-so-intriguing redhead named Willow, and he hadn’t seen her again. Not
that he was actually looking for her or anything.
And who exactly was he trying to kid?
Of course he was looking for her. Even an idiot could see that. Somehow,
the little redhead had managed to get to him in the short time they’d been
in each other’s company. She was, of course, absolutely adorable, and
though she wasn’t what anyone would call ‘built,’ she did have a nice,
slender figure, even if she was a bit young. She had a stunning smile; she
could practically light up a room.
And he had no business seeking her out.
Lindsey couldn’t explain why he felt that way in this particular situation,
but he did. It was an odd feeling. He’d never had many scruples when it
came to women in the past, and he didn’t really understand why he did now.
He was beginning to wonder if there was something seriously wrong with him
mentally. In the past, he’d always gone after what he wanted, never caring
who or what he hurt on the way to his goal. It never mattered what the goal
was either: an education, a job, a woman. The only lapse he’d had into
morality was the whole thing with that blind assassin and those blind kids,
that time when he’d gone to the do-gooders of Angel Investigations for help.
And there had been a moment there, a long serious moment, when he knew
that those kids were going to be safe, that he’d felt good about himself.
He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d felt that way. He’d liked
it. Oh, yeah, he was definitely going nuts. He was a lawyer. Lawyers
didn’t necessarily feel good about themselves. They were evil. He was
evil.
Wasn’t he?
Sighing, Lindsey looked down at his right hand, watching with great interest
as he flexed it. It had taken Wolfram and Hart three incredibly long
months, but the law firm had finally located a demon with the power to
regenerate his hand. The process had been done only the day before, and
Lindsey was still in awe of the results. Thanks to some demon, he actually
had a hand again. It had cost the firm a pretty penny to have it done, but
Holland had gallantly decided that it was worth it, especially when one
considered that it had happened on the job, so to speak. That was certainly
one aspect of being a lawyer that Lindsey had never expected: the
possibility of losing a body part. Of course, he reasoned to himself, back
when he was in law school, he’d never thought half of his clients would be
demons, either. But back to his hand. Lindsey was thrilled to have a real,
working, flesh and blood hand again, even if it wasn’t exactly the original.
The prosthetic he’d been provided with while the firm looked for a way to
regenerate his hand had been great; it had even looked almost real, but it
definitely hadn’t been the same.
With a shake of his head, Lindsey forced his attention away from his
oh-so-fascinating new hand and returned his gaze to the sidewalk in front of
him. He was sitting on a park bench less than three blocks from where he’d
first seen Willow, and he was beginning to give up hope of ever seeing her
again. He felt more than a little stupid just sitting there waiting for
someone who would probably never appear, so he had brought his notes on his
most recent case along with him. The notes, had, for awhile, helped him to
pretend that he wasn’t really there hoping to see Willow again. No, he’d
just wanted to go over his work in outside in LA’s not so fresh air.
Yeah, right.
Deciding he looked completely pathetic just sitting there on the bench doing
nothing, Lindsey retrieved his notes once more and flipped to a page that
was covered in his assistant’s neat writing, pretending to read it as he
thought about the case. It wasn’t exactly going swimmingly, but he knew he
couldn’t really be blamed for that. The little bastard he was defending had
been caught with both mutilated bodies tied up in his closet, and face it,
he couldn’t exactly claim the girls had been the kid’s anatomy project.
And then there were the girls themselves. Monica Langley and Charity Minor.
They had both been perfect examples of the All-American girl.
Cheerleaders, in the honor society, both in student council, perfect 4.0
GPA’s. Even their SAT scores were outstanding. One was hoping to go to
Berkeley, while the other had already sent in her application to Rice
University. They were smart, lovely girls who worked hard and were from
good families.
They hadn’t deserved to die.
And that was the main problem. The little bastard who’d gone after them for
days with a knife, torturing them a little more each time until their bodies
had finally given out on them... he was the one who deserved to die. The
judge knew it, the prosecutor knew it, the jury knew it, and Lindsey knew
it.
It felt like Vanessa Brewer all over again. He didn’t know why it felt that
way, though. Vanessa Brewer had been an assassin, albeit a blind one, and
she had gone after a bunch of kids. Tad Clemens, on the other hand, was
just a murderer. A murderer who had killed two innocent girls that could
have been capable of so much. Two girls who were so young, so fresh...
Like Willow.
The thought stunned Lindsey momentarily, and he briefly covered his face
with his hands. Was that why he was having a sudden attack of conscience
here? Was it because he somehow saw the face of a little redhead he’d only
met once in the faces of Tad’s victims? It could have been her, after all.
Some other psycho kid, some other town, and it could have been her. And if
he got Tad acquitted, it could still be her. Was that why he was having so
much trouble sleeping at night? Or was it because this case was simply
different? He did, after all, usually defend people who had done bad things
to bad people. And those girls... well, he knew they hadn’t done anything
to deserve what had been done to them. Maybe that was it.
Or maybe it wasn’t.
As Lindsey lifted his head, trying to escape his thoughts, his eyes landed
on the one person he’d wanted to see more than anything.
"Willow!"
The redhead glanced up at her name, and she broke into a smile when she saw
him. "Lindsey," she said, pleasing him by remembering his name. "Hi. What
are you doing here?"
"I was just going over some notes on my latest case. My apartment walls
were beginning to close in on me, so... here I am," he said as he stood,
immediately falling into step beside her.
"It is nice here, isn’t it?" Willow replied, looking at the park that
surrounded them.
"Yeah, it is. What’s with the backpack?" he asked.
"Books."
"Let me guess... UCLA student," he said, knowing the college was only a
block or two away from the park.
"Good guess. Or should I say ‘obvious choice’?"
"Either one would do," Lindsey replied, suddenly feeling more lighthearted
than he had in... well, than he had since the last time he’d been in
Willow’s company. He didn’t begin to understand the effect the young woman
had on him, but he certainly liked it. "So, how long have you been going to
UCLA?" he asked hoping that she would make some comment about being a fifth
year senior or something, but knowing that wouldn’t happen.
"Two days," she said with a grin, nearly causing Lindsey to stumble. Two
days? Dear Lord, she was nearly jail bait. What was he thinking? "I just
transferred," she continued. "This is actually my second year of college,
but I’ll have enough hours to be considered a junior at the end of the
semester. I tested out of a lot of stuff."
Okay. Second year. Still young, but not jail bait. She had to be... what?
At least nineteen. He could handle that... couldn’t he? "So, uh, why did
you transfer?"
"Lots of reasons, I guess. One of them being that UCLA’s a much better
school than where I was going," Willow replied, not about to go into any
detail as to the real reasons she had left UC-Sunnydale.
"Understandable."
"Oh, this is me," the redhead told him as she stopped in front of an
apartment building. "It was nice seeing you again," she said with a smile
as she turned to leave. Lindsey, however, wasn’t ready to let her go just
yet, not when he had spent three hours on that bench pretending not to wait
for her.
"Look, um, Willow," Lindsey said, suddenly feeling like a teenager again,
which he thought was fairly appropriate since the girl standing in front of
him most likely was a teenager, "I was wondering... Would you like to go out
with me?"
Willow’s eyes widened, and he could tell she was surprised that he had
asked. After a moment, however, her surprised look melted into a smile, and
she nodded. "That would be great, actually. Do you have a specific day in
mind, or is this just some random point in time we’re talking about?"
"Well, um, how about... damn. I don’t have my appointment book with me,"
Lindsey suddenly realized. "I plan my entire life with that thing. How
about this?" he said as he pulled a couple of business cards out of his
pocket, quickly writing his home phone number on the back of one of them.
"Here’s my home number, and my cell phone number’s on the front of the card,
so you can call me, and why don’t you write your number on the back on this
card?" As he spoke, he handed her the pen and both of the cards, and she
quickly scribbled her number on the one that still had a blank back, then
handed both the card and the pen back to him. She stuck the second card,
the one with Lindsey’s number on it, in her backpack.
"I look forward to hearing from you," Willow said before turning to leave
again. This time, Lindsey let her go.
Instead of watching her go, he turned and headed in the direction of his own
apartment, his head down as he thought about what had just happened. During
the past three days, he’d spent hour upon hour thinking about her, and most
of that time was spent reminding himself of every possible reason he should
avoid her. And then he’d ended up searching her out, basically walking her
home, and to top it all off, he’d asked her out on a date. Of course, they
hadn’t set a date or a time just yet. He could still do the right thing and
stay away from her. He knew wasn’t exactly an upstanding guy, and well, she
just seemed so... innocent. How could he even think about dating someone
like her? Someone so sweet, so adorable... someone who actually made him
feel happy.
Screw his morals... or what was left of them, anyway.
He was going out with her.
Part Four
Willow stepped into her apartment, tossing her mail (which was all addressed
to ‘occupant’) on the kitchen counter - what there was of it; the kitchen
was awfully small, the counter even smaller - before swinging the door of
the refrigerator and grabbing a half-eaten container of yogurt. Humming to
herself, the redhead shrugged off her backpack and kicked off her sandals -
the shoes brand new, of course, and giving her fits with blisters. She had
always hated the breaking-them-in period that one had to go through with
shoes, and she had to admit was part of the reason she had held on to her
old pair for so long. After her shoes and bag had been dispensed with,
Willow opened her yogurt and grabbed a spoon. She stopped humming as she
began eating, admittedly doing so only because she realized that attempting
to hum and eat at the same time could wind up being very messy. In lieu of
humming, the redheaded witch began to generally just bounce around. She
hadn’t felt this good in a long time.
Lindsey had asked her out.
Okay, so they hadn’t made any actual plans just yet, but he had still asked
her out, and quite honestly, she was having a hard time believing it.
Lindsey had been on her mind for three days, ever since they had literally
run into each other on the sidewalk. He was, of course, completely
gorgeous, and there was just something about the way he looked at her. He
was a obviously a few years older than she was, but that wasn’t a big deal.
The big deal was that he was the first guy to show any interest in her in
forever. Okay, so Buffy or Cordelia would probably make some callous
comment about his hand...
Wait a minute.
His... hand.
Lindsey had a prosthetic hand, or at least he had three days ago.
Willow quickly made her way into her living room and sat down heavily on her
couch, barely making it before her knees gave out. She put her yogurt down
on the coffee table, not even noticing how the spoon clattered out and
landed on the table, leaving a smear of melting strawberry yogurt. She was
too busy trying to think to care about the state of her furniture. She
clearly remembered noticing that his hand wasn’t real the night they met,
although it had been a very good fake. Not everyone would have even
noticed, but Willow was nothing if not observant. And, now, just a few
minutes ago, when he had given her his card, when he had written his home
phone number on the back of it... His right hand, the one that had once been
a prosthetic, had been real.
But what did that mean?
Willow knew there was such a thing as a hand transplant - hadn’t the first
guy to ever get one turned out to be a criminal or something? - but she was
also smart enough to know without a doubt that there was no way that was the
case with Lindsey. For one thing, the skin tone, the size, everything, was
an exact match for his left hand. Not to mention that whole no scar thing.
Plus, it had only been three days since she had seen him with his
prosthetic. There was no way he would be out of the hospital so soon.
And... if he had had a hand transplant, it would have so been on the news.
She was certain she would have noticed if his gorgeous face had been on
television. Which meant, no hand transplant. And she was absolutely
certain that his hand had been fake just three days earlier, which meant...
what?
Magic.
Willow sat up a little straighter as the thought came to her. It was odd; a
few years earlier - say, before she met Buffy Summers - the use of magic
would not have come to her as a plausible answer. But she wasn’t in high
school anymore, and her best friend just so happened to be the Vampire
Slayer. Therefore, magic wasn’t just a reality to her, it was a normalcy.
But what about Lindsey? What place did magic hold in his life?
The regeneration of a limb, which is what this almost had to be, would
certainly require a lot of power. The question was whose power was it? And
if Lindsey knew about magic, which he clearly did... just how much did he
know about what goes bump in the night?
And did he know anything about her?
"No," Willow said aloud to herself with a vehement shake of her head. "This
is not Tara all over again. For one thing, Lindsey’s a man... Which of
course makes no difference whatsoever."
Frustrated with herself, Willow threw up her hands, then rose from her spot
on the couch. "What is wrong with me? One witch tries to steal my powers,
and suddenly I’m seeing evil guys in everybody. Lindsey is not after my
powers, damn it! I am so damned paranoid!"
Willow paced across the floor of the living room as she continued her
one-sided conversation. "Okay, here’s what I know: Lindsey had no hand
three days ago, now he does. Most likely answer: magic. But what does that
mean? Was bumping into me really an accident, or does he know who I am?
And if he knows... is he after me? And why am I doing this to myself? He’s
not after me. At least, not in a magical sense. And how would he even know
that I’m a witch anyway? Tara only knew because of that stupid Wicca group
on campus... and that thing with The Gentlemen. He doesn’t know. He
doesn’t know," Willow repeated as she sank down once more on the couch
cushions. She hated that her experiences with Tara had done this to her...
given her this fear and wariness that she had never felt before towards
people with magic. Well, not including Ethan Rayne, of course. That guy
had always scared her crap out of her.
"Besides, Will," she told herself, "it’s not as if he’s actually called yet.
And even if he does, you can always back out of the date. You don’t have
to go out with him."
But she knew that she would. She knew that, if Lindsey did call her, she
would go out with him, because, deep down, she really felt that he meant her
no harm, even if he did know she was a witch. She couldn’t explain why she
felt that way, but she did. Maybe it was the vibes he was giving out. Tara
had always been so puppy dog devoted on the surface, but, even in the
beginning, Willow had sensed that there was something... wrong underneath
it. She had deliberately ignored it, though, pushing it away until she
couldn’t deny it anymore; Tara was out to get her. But Lindsey... there was
no underlying vibe that told her she might be in danger from him, and after
the whole Tara debacle, Willow had learned to listen to what her senses told
her. And besides that, now that she knew he had to have magic in his life,
she had to admit she was curious.
"Curiosity killed the cat," the redhead muttered to herself as she stood
once more, this time going over to her answering machine. In an effort to
get her mind off of Lindsey, Tara, and magic, she pushed the button and
waited for her one message to be played. She smiled as a familiar voice
rang out.
"Hey, Will. I got your e-mail with your number, so I thought I’d call. If
you want to get in touch with me, but want to avoid the possibility of Riley
or Buffy answering the phone, just beep me, and I’ll call you back. I’ll
talk to you later."
Smiling, Willow pressed the button to save Graham’s message, just in case
she wanted to hear a friendly voice again without actually picking up the
phone and calling someone.
And it was at that moment that the phone rang.
"Hello?" Willow said as she put the phone to her ear.
"Is Willow there?"
"This is."
"Willow, it’s Lindsey."
"Oh, hey," Willow said, cursing how her heart seemed to skip a beat at the
sound of his voice. "That was... fast," she said, glancing at the clock.
She’d been in her apartment less than twenty minutes. "Where are you
calling from?"
"My apartment. I’m really not that far from you. I’ve got my planner in
front of me right now, so if you still want to make that date..."
"I still do."
"Is Thursday okay for you?" Lindsey asked, and Willow could hear relief in
his voice. Apparently, he had been worried that she would change her mind
or something. "Do you have an early class on Friday or anything like that?
Because if you do..."
"No Friday classes at all, actually, so Thursday’s great."
"Dinner, then? Maybe some dancing afterwards?"
"That sounds... really nice, actually. But nothing too pretentious, okay?"
she warned him.
"So a restaurant from my pre-snob days, then," Lindsey replied, and Willow
could tell he was smiling.
"That would probably be best. I don’t really go for the snob atmosphere."
"That’s such a shame. I’m so damn good at it. Is seven okay?"
"Works for me."
"Okay, then. I’ll pick you up at seven... What’s your apartment number?"
"1213."
"I’ve got it. So I’ll see you then... And now that I’ve got something to
look forward to later this week, maybe I can actually get some work done on
this case."
"Good luck."
The pair quickly said their goodbyes, then ended the call. As Willow hung
up, she was smiling. somehow, even over the phone, Lindsey managed to make
her feel attractive. She liked it. And now, she had a date with him.
She just hoped she was right about him.
Part Five
The dinner went extremely well, but they never made it to the dancing.
Lindsey had chosen a small Italian restaurant, and there were no menus in
foreign languages or pretentious maitre d’s to deal with, just pasta - and
plenty of it. Afterwards, Lindsey had talked her into dessert, and they
were now sharing a rather generous piece of cheesecake. Willow had to admit
that the food was delicious, and the conversation was constant.
As Willow had known, Lindsey McDonald was several years older than her. Of
course, she reasoned, twenty-eight was nothing compared to the age of some
of her friends’ significant others, both past and present. Buffy had dated
Angel who, by Willow’s calculations, had been a vampire for 247 years.
Plus, the blonde Slayer had been briefly engaged to Spike, and he had
recently celebrated 127 years as a member of the walking undead. Granted,
Buffy and Spike’s engagement had been spell-induced, but she was still
counting it. And finally, there was the relationship to end all ‘he’s too
old for you’ arguments. Xander and Anya. Oh, sure, the former demon was
now caught in the body of a nineteen year old, but she still had the
memories of her years as a demon. All eleven hundred and twenty of them.
So the age difference between her and Lindsey was truly no big deal.
She had also discovered that Lindsey was a lawyer, thus forever ruining her
stereotype of lawyers as uptight, stodgy old men. And not only was he a
lawyer; he was a rather successful one as well. He’d told her that he was a
junior partner at his firm, and Willow knew enough about law firms and the
like to know that rising to a position like that at such a young age really
was a big deal.
"Do I even want to know what’s going on in that lovely head of yours?"
Lindsey asked, drawing Willow’s attention away from her musings.
Unable to really say ‘oh, I was just thinking about the fact that a nine
year age difference is no big deal compared to a millennia,’ Willow simply
smiled and said the first thing that popped into mind. "I was just thinking
about how much time I’m going to need to add to my workout because of this,"
she told him, gesturing to the half-eaten cheesecake.
Lindsey laughed. "For one thing, I’ve eaten most of this, and for another,
I really don’t think some cheesecake now and then is going to hurt you. You
look fantastic."
And it was true. Usually, he preferred a woman with a few more curves, but
Willow’s slender figured more than suited her. The red sundress she was
wearing was cut just low enough to show a hint of cleavage, and he loved the
way the flared skirt swirled around her terrific legs as she walked. She
looked amazing, and he wouldn’t change one thing about her. Not even her
age.
It had turned out that she was nineteen. Young, but not illegal or
anything. And there was just something about her youth that appealed to
him, albeit unexpectedly. She was far more easygoing than the women he
generally went out with. Less jaded, perhaps. Most women he had dated
would have thrown a fit if he had suggested eating at a place like this, no
matter how good the food was. Those weren’t there to eat anyway; they were
there to be seen. Thank goodness Willow wasn’t that way. He had grown
tired of women like that. Women who expected him to try and impress them,
women who were impossible to impress. Willow may not have been impressed
with him, but she certainly seemed interested in him, and that was what was
important. She also seemed so much less cynical than he was, and he found
himself hoping that nothing would ever cause her to change.
"Oh, God," Willow muttered as she ate just one last forkful of cheesecake.
"I cannot eat anything else. I honestly think I’m going to explode."
"And what a mess that would be," Lindsey replied with an amused grin as he
signaled their waiter for the check.
"I actually said that aloud, didn’t I?"
"You certainly did. Are you still up for some dancing?"
"Give me a few minutes, and I might just be able to handle it."
Lindsey quickly paid the bill, giving the waiter an outrageous tip, and rose
from his seat. Before Willow had the chance to push out her chair to stand,
he was behind her, pulling her chair out for her. When she stood, murmuring
her thanks, he smiled at her. "The place I was thinking of for dancing is
only a few blocks away. I was thinking we could walk there. If you don’t
mind, that is."
"That would be nice, actually," the redhead replied as they stepped outside
of the restaurant. She smiled as she looked up at the night overhead.
"It’s nice tonight. You can almost see the stars."
Lindsey chuckled at the reference to LA’s notorious smog. "Can you see the
stars where you used to live?" All he knew was that she was from a small
town a few hours from Los Angeles, and he was curious about it. She had
been so vague that it was clear she didn’t really want to talk about the
place. It made him wonder just what had happened to make her leave there
and come to the city of angels.
"Sometimes. When we actually took a chance and looked." Truth be told, she
hadn’t taken that particular chance in quite awhile. It was far too
dangerous to look to the sky when there were demons on the ground.
At that slightly odd answer, Lindsey simply nodded and held out his hand,
pleased when Willow took it. They walked in silence for a few moments,
Willow occasionally looking up into the night sky, Lindsey glancing around
warily.
Apparently, he wasn’t wary enough.
Rough hands grabbed them from the alley, and Willow screamed as they were
thrown against the wall.
Immediately, Lindsey stepped in front of the redhead, the only thought in
his head to protect her. He didn’t care who it was threatening them, he
would do everything he could to make sure she came out of it all right. He
didn’t care if it was a drug dealer, a mugger, or...
A vampire.
It was a vampire. Well, two vampires, actually. Dear Lord, how was he
going to get out of this? He couldn’t exactly just tell them ‘hey, I’m a
lawyer for Wolfram and Hart.’ Only rich vampires cared about things like
that. And these two didn’t look like rich vampires. And what was he going
to tell Willow? How could he explain vampires to her?
"Give me the girl."
The words were lisped out through the larger creature’s fangs. Lindsey felt
Willow stiffen behind him at the words, and he assumed it was from sheer
terror.
"You’re not going to touch her," he informed the vampire, cringing when the
creature stepped closer. So this was what blood breath smelled like. Man,
he wished he had a stake with him. The second vampire stood a few feet
away, his eyes cold and appraising.
"Says who?" blood breath asked.
"Says who? Isn’t that a little grade school?"
Willow’s voice sounded annoyed as she stepped out from behind Lindsey, and
the lawyer and both vampires looked at the redhead in shock. She was not
cowering in fear as expected. No, she just looked pissed.
"Look, I’ve been told that blood tastes better when the person is afraid,"
Willow told them, recalling a rather strange conversation she had once had
with Spike. "And, you know, I’m not afraid of you. So my blood would
probably suck."
"I can sense your power," the standing in the shadows commented, and the
redhead turned to face him, as did the vampire in front of Lindsey. The
lawyer took advantage of the situation, kneeing the unobservant demon in the
groin before grabbing a piece of broken wood off the ground and staking him.
"Oh, you killed him," the remaining vamp sad with mock regret. "Now I’ll
just have to make a new minion. I choose you, but it’ll have to wait until
I make the little witch a meal."
"Yeah, well, eat this."
Both man and demon turned to face the redhead at the words, and Lindsey was
astonished to see a glowing ball cupped in her hands. He heard her whisper
a few words, and the ball turned to flame.
Then, she threw it at the vampire.
The unsuspecting creature didn’t even have time to duck, and he immediately
caught on fire, turning to dust within seconds.
And that was when Willow collapsed.
Moving faster than he had ever thought himself capable of doing, Lindsey
caught the redhead before she hit the ground face first. He knelt on the
ground with her in his arms, frantically turning her over and feeling for a
pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the rapid beat, but the
fact that she was unconscious still left him terrified. He had no clue how
to help her; all he knew was that he had to get her out of the alley and
somewhere safe.
Moving quickly but carefully, Lindsey stood, lifting the slight redhead
fully into his arms, and headed for his car.
Part Six
Lindsey carried Willow into his apartment, careful not to hit her head on
the door frame. He kicked the door shut behind him, making a mental note to
lock it and pull the chain when he had the redhead settled. She still
hadn’t regained consciousness, and he was more than a little worried about
her. He realized that most people would have hauled her to a hospital or
something, but he also knew that whatever had happened to her was magically
induced. Taking her to a hospital wouldn’t help her; it would just raise a
lot of questions that he didn’t have any answers to.
Carefully, Lindsey set Willow down on his couch, then made his way to his
bedroom. After flipping on the light, he quickly pulled the comforter and
sheets down, then went back for the small redhead. He carried her into the
bedroom, then placed his small burden on the bed, stepping back to look at
her after doing so. Sighing, he studied her unconscious form for a moment,
then moved forward once more, this time to remove her shoes. Gently, he
moved her legs under the covers, then pulled the sheet and comforter up to
her chin. He busied himself momentarily with the business of tucking her
in, trying to ignore the little voice in his head that thrilled in reminding
him that he had always claimed he would never do something like this for a
woman. Of course, he had never expected to find himself taking care of a
woman who had passed out after saving him - and herself - from a couple of
vampires. Certainly a situation like this called for an exception.
After making sure that Willow was as comfortable as possible - not that she
really seemed to be noticing such things at the moment - he pulled a chair
up next to the bed and sat down in it, intent on watching over the slender
redhead until she woke up.
She looked so peaceful that it was easy to believe that she was simply
asleep rather than unconscious. Her hair was falling in her face slightly,
and Lindsey didn’t even try to resist the urge to brush it back from her
face. The flame-colored locks were as soft as silk, and the lawyer indulged
himself by stroking it gently.
And that was when Willow moaned.
She was in a very calm, very dark place with no pain, and quite frankly, she
didn’t want to wake up. Even so, she felt herself doing just that, rising
slowly through the comforting darkness of unconsciousness, and she moaned in
protest.
"Willow? Come on, baby, wake up. Wake up for me."
The voice was soft and pleading, and she was certain that she knew it, she
just couldn’t place it at the moment. Moaning again, she shook her head,
trying to surrender back into the dark oblivion she was surfacing from.
"Oh, no you don’t. You have to wake up for me. Do you hear me? You have
to wake up, okay? You’re scaring me, Willow."
That voice. Who... who was that voice? She’d heard it before, both in
reality and in her dreams... but who did it belong to?
"Come on. Come back to me," the male voice urged.
Oh, no. Not him. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t have... had she really
passed out in front of him?
"Lindsey?" she asked cautiously, not yet willing to open her eyes.
The sound of her voice sent a surge of relief through him. "Yes, it’s me.
Thank goodness you’re awake."
Gathering her courage, Willow opened her eyes, surprised to realize that she
was in a bed instead of on the hard ground and that she was staring at the
ceiling instead of the night sky. Groaning at the buzzing in her head, she
turned to look at the man seated in a chair beside the bed.
"Hi," she managed after a moment.
"Hi yourself. Welcome back. Do you remember what happened?"
Willow frowned, trying to think. "Umm... dinner. Great, terrific dinner,
then... walking, and oh, man... vampires." Her eyes had taken on an edge
of fear when returned her gaze to him. "Are you okay?"
"Just fine. It’s you I was worried about. I take it you’ve been around
vampires before."
"You... you could say that," the redhead said quietly, then cringed when she
remembered what she had said about being told that vampires thought blood
tasted better when the person was afraid. "It’s not really something that I
usually discuss on a first date."
"I can see why. And your witchcraft... I suppose that’s tough to work into
a conversation, too."
"Oh, yeah. That."
"Yeah, that," Lindsey replied. "What happened out there, Willow? I mean,
one minute, you were throwing a fireball at the guy, the next... you were
unconscious in my arms. You scared me. I didn’t know what had happened,
and I didn’t know how to help you."
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t thinking, I guess. I mean, used
to, the spell was no big deal to me. But now..."
"What is it?" he asked, struck by the sadness in her expressive eyes.
"Now I’m weak. And... I don’t want to talk about it right this minute,
okay?" she said softly, staring at the ceiling.
"Sure. Whatever you want is fine with me," Lindsey immediately complied,
disturbed by the fact that he could see tears in her eyes. He hated it when
women cried, especially when they were real tears, not just the ‘I want to
get my way’ tears. And the pain in Willow’s eyes was more than real enough
to convince him to back off. "We can talk about anything you want."
"What about you?" she asked him, turning her tired gaze back to his face.
"What do you mean?"
"You know magic and vampires, too. Or, at least, you don’t seem too
surprised at this turn of events."
"Let’s just say I’ve run into a few vampires before tonight. LA’s full of a
lot of bad things." He stopped there, wondering if that explanation would
be enough. He couldn’t exactly tell her he had vampires for clients; she’d
probably run as far away from him as possible.
"And magic? I mean... your hand. I know it wasn’t real the first time we
met, and now... Well, that’s obviously changed."
His eyes widened considerably, and she was certain he hadn’t realized she’d
noticed the change. After a moment, he spoke. "I don’t practice myself. I
could float a pencil, much less throw a fireball," he told her, wondering
why the comment brought a small smile to her lips. "Anyway, basically, I
knew someone who knew someone, and I was willing to do just about anything
to get my hand back."
"I imagine I would feel that way, too," Willow said after a moment, then
tried to stifle a yawn.
"You’re exhausted," Lindsey proclaimed, suddenly sorry for keeping her
awake. "You should sleep. You can stay here tonight, obviously. I’ll
probably be at work by the time you wake up tomorrow, and you can stay as
late as you want to. I’ll leave a key on the table near the front door so
you can lock up if you decide to leave before I get home." Hearing himself
mention locking up reminded him that he had neglected to do so as yet, and
he barely waited for her to murmur a sleepy ‘okay’ to what he had just said
before going to take care of it.
When he came back moments later, he kicked off his shoes and sat on the far
side of the bed, leaving enough distance so that he wouldn’t disturb her.
His plan was to watch her sleep for awhile, just to make sure she was really
okay, then go into the living room and sleep on the couch.
"Lindsey?"
The soft voice surprised him slightly; he’d thought she was already asleep.
"Yes, Willow?"
"Thank you for taking care of me."
"You don’t need to thank me for that."
"Why? Because you owed it to me?" Even exhausted, she managed to fill the
word ‘owed’ with scorn.
"No, because I wanted to. I care about you, Willow. I don’t want anything
to happen to you."
"Oh." The word was said in a near whisper, and he could tell she was sorry
for what she had said before. After a moment, she spoke again. "I hate
it."
"What?" Lindsey asked, uncertain what she meant. Carefully, he lay down
next to the redhead, still on top of the covers while she was underneath
them.
"This. That I have to be this way," she said softly, a few tears of sadness
mixed with exhaustion making their way down her cheeks. "Being so weak. I
wasn’t always this way."
"What happened?" Lindsey asked, feeling a bit guilty because he was fairly
certain she was half-asleep and had no clue what she was saying. However,
his curiosity was winning out over his guilt.
"I trusted the wrong person. I should have known... Where I’m from, you
can’t be too careful. It’s why I left, you know. Too many bad things... I
couldn’t deal with it any longer. I couldn’t stay there."
"Where is there?"
Lindsey waited for an answer, then looked over at Willow when it become
apparent that he wasn’t going to get one.
The redhead was now fully asleep, and Lindsey couldn’t decide whether he was
sorry about that because it meant he wouldn’t be getting anything else from
her tonight, or relieved for the same reason. He was still curious about
the details of what had happened to her wherever she had come from, but he
didn’t particularly want to feel guilty over his methods of getting the
information. Sighing, Lindsey rested his head on his arms, gazing at the
slender redhead who had managed to cause so many feelings to rise in him.
He stayed in that position for the rest of the night.
Part Seven
Willow walked slowly across the sand, her shoes in her hand. It had been a
week since she had basically fainted at Lindsey’s feet just seconds after
turning a vampire into a flaming pile of dust. When she had finally awoke
in his bed the next morning - actually it was more like afternoon - she had
left almost immediately, more than a bit embarrassed about the events of the
night before. She was certain Lindsey would never want to see her again.
She was wrong.
On Saturday afternoon, the handsome lawyer had shown up on her doorstep,
picnic lunch and blanket in hand. He then proceeded to tell her that he
would be perfectly happy spreading out the lunch and eating it on her living
room floor, but he was hoping that she felt up to going with him to the
park. Feeling much more herself by then and too touched to refuse, Willow
had agreed to go to the park, and she was glad she had chosen to. It had
been a beautiful, sunny day, and the date had turned out to be a blast.
Lindsey had kept the conversation light and easy, and for that the young
witch was grateful. The redhead knew that she had said more than she should
have during her spell-induced exhaustion, but Lindsey seemed to be letting
it slide for now. Perhaps he realized that it was too soon for her to trust
him with the entire story, and he was willing to wait until she was ready.
Or maybe he just simply didn’t want to know. No, it couldn’t be the second
choice. She was certain that wasn’t true.
On a few occasions, she’d seen Lindsey watching her with speculative eyes,
and she knew he was curious about her. The details of what had happened to
her, where she was from, how she had gotten into magic. But he hadn’t
asked. He’d never asked. Not at the picnic, not during one of the several
phone conversations they’d had, not when he took her to the movies.
That had been their third, and most recent, date. They had gone just two
nights before, on Tuesday night. Willow had been shocked to realize that it
had been over a year since she had actually gone to a movie, long before Oz
had decided to take off on her. The thought had been more than a little
depressing, but she had forced herself to get over it by telling herself
that she was out with an incredibly handsome, intelligent man, and Oz could
just go screw himself.
Sighing, Willow shook her head as she continued walking along the beach,
looking out at the waves without really seeing them. It wasn’t that she
took of the beauty of the ocean for granted, it was just that she had a lot
on her mind. Her mind had been swirling lately with thoughts of Lindsey...
how she felt about him, how he felt about her, how much of herself she could
trust him with. The redhead’s preoccupation left her less observant than
usual, and she didn’t even notice the eyes watching her.
The vampire watched from the shadows underneath the pier, his eyes trained
on the redhead that walked across the moonlit the sands. She carried her
shoes in her hand, walking barefoot on the beach. She was alone, and it was
late. Too late. Any sensible girl would be inside by now, or at least not
alone.
But this girl was.
The vampire stepped out from the shadows, intent on following this girl on
her journey. He studied her as he walked, taking in the smooth movements of
her stride, the grace that she had within her. It seemed oddly familiar.
His brow furrowing in confusion, the vampire quickened his pace until he was
just twenty feet away from her, studying her intently.
She wore a black dress. It was held up with flimsy straps, and the full
skirt fell to mid-calf, where it swirled around slim legs. The petite young
woman held her black sandals in one hand, and she seemed to be holding her
keys as well. She was incredibly slender, and her hair, though pulled back
with a clip, was still quite obviously red.
Red hair. Slender form. Petite.
"Willow?"
The whispered word came from behind her, and the redhead in question
immediately whirled around, stunned to learn that she was being followed.
She saw the outline of a tall, dark figure standing some twenty feet away,
and she struggled to see into the darkness, trying to discern just who had
called her by name.
The man - for the figure was quite obviously a man - was large, and he was
dressed in dark clothing. And that voice. Though her name had been softly
spoken, she knew she recognized that voice.
"Angel?"
Suddenly realizing that he was backlit by the moon and that her night vision
was nowhere near as good as his, he stepped closer. He could tell when she
was able to fully see who he was; her stance relaxed considerably. He
stopped when he was directly in front of her, his eyes taking in the
unexpected sight of Willow Rosenberg.
Willow stared up into Angel’s dark eyes, struck speechless by this unplanned
meeting. She jumped slightly when he lifted his hand to touch her face,
gently tracing her features. As he dropped his hand back to his side, the
ensouled vampire smiled suddenly, surprising the redhead once again.
"It’s really you," he said, almost as if in awe.
"Did you think I was an apparition?" she asked.
"I wondered," Angel admitted, still trying to get past the almost dream-like
quality this reunion seemed to carry with it. "I didn’t... How long have
you been in LA?"
"About two weeks," Willow told him, feeling guilty when Angel’s face fell at
that revelation. "I... No one knows where I am. I just left; I didn’t tell
anybody where I was going. Except Graham."
"Graham?"
"He’s Riley’s roommate," she told him, knowing the vampire had met Buffy’s
boyfriend. "He’s a good friend. My shoulder to cry on and all that. He
has pretty nice shoulders, too."
"Just a friend?" Angel asked.
"Yes. No sparks, but he is a great guy. Anyway... I guess I just needed
some time away from everybody. That’s why I hadn’t come to see you yet. I
just... I wanted to be... away. I don’t know if you know..."
"What happened in Sunnydale?"
"Yeah, that," Willow said with a shaky nod of her head as she resumed
walking. Angel quickly fell into step beside her.
"I don’t have any details about what happened. Giles doesn’t really like to
talk to me. All I know is that someone you trusted hurt you. In more ways
than one."
"What do you mean by that?"
"She tried to steal your magic, and she destroyed your trust, which is lot
harder to fix."
"Yeah, I guess it is," the redhead agreed softly before lapsing into
silence. If asked earlier, she couldn’t have said that this reunion with
Angel was something that she wanted, but now that it had happened, she was
actually glad to see the vampire again. There was something oddly
comforting in his presence.
"It’s late," Angel said after a moment, turning his head to glance at the
redhead. "Is there any reason that you’re out here this late?"
"It’s quiet. And peaceful. I like it. I like to think out here. What
about you?"
"The same, I guess. Of course, I’m a bit more prepared to fight than you
are."
"Oh, that."
"Yes, that. I don’t want anything to happen to you, Willow, whether it be
here or in Sunnydale," he informed her as he took her hand, leading her away
from the sand and towards his parked car. "Come on, little one. Let me
drive you home."
"I’ll get your car all sandy," she protested, looking down at her bare feet.
"I’ll just have to deal with that tragedy," the vampire replied wryly,
looking down at his shoes, which held a fair amount of sand themselves.
"Come on, Wills. Get in the car. I promise I’m a better driver than all of
your friends combined."
"That’s really not all that comforting. I mean, have you seen Buffy and the
others drive? It doesn’t take much to be better than them," the redhead
stated as she got in the car, settling back into the seat with a yawn.
Frowning, she checked her watch, shocked to discover it was nearly three in
the morning. Angel had certainly been right when he had told her it was
late; she had been wandering the beach for over three hours, and she
wouldn’t have stopped any time soon if she hadn’t have run into the vampire.
Curling on her side as Angel started the car and began to drive, she
watched the beach roll by, vaguely wondering just how much of it she had
ended up walking that night. After a moment, she thought she heard Angel
say something, but it didn’t really matter.
She was already asleep.
Part Eight
The sheets were satin.
It was the first thing Willow realized when she woke up the following
morning, and that led to the immediate and more than a little startling
conclusion that was most definitely not in her bed.
Now, this wasn’t the first time she had experienced this particular
sensation. It had been barely a week before that she had spent an innocent
night in Lindsey’s bed. However, she knew for a fact that she hadn’t been
with Lindsey the night before, and one quick glance around the room she was
in told her that it definitely wasn’t the lawyer’s bedroom.
The room was dark and had no windows. The only light in the room came from
the single bulb of a rather old-looking lamp that sat on an equally
old-looking table. A sketchpad was resting on the table, open to a page
that appeared to have something drawn on it. There was a chair beside the
table, and it seemed to be an antique, just like the lamp and table were.
The walls of the room were adorned with a few paintings and several
dangerous-looking weapons.
Angel.
Of course. She had run into him the night before, she remembered that now.
They had talked, and he had offered to drive her home, and... she had fallen
asleep within minutes of getting in the car.
And, apparently, he had decided to take her home with him rather than wake
her up.
Now fairly secure in the knowledge that she knew where she was, Willow moved
to the edge of the massive bed she was in and slid off the side. As she
pushed the skirt of the dress she was still wearing back to its proper place
- it had ridden up when she slid out of bed - the redhead glanced at the
monstrosity she had slept in for a minute, then shook her head and moved to
the small table. She sat in the chair beside it, curling her legs up under
her as she reached out for the sketchpad, eager to see what the vampire had
been working on. She’d seen some of the work he’d done during his soulless
days in Sunnydale - those had been more like warnings than works of art -
and she knew Angel was talented. That knowledge, however, hadn’t prepared
her this particular piece. Her mouth dropped open at what she saw drawn
there.
"You’re awake."
The words were spoken softly from the doorway, and Willow shifted in the
chair to face the vampire. Angel smiled softly as he stepped in the room,
and he nodded in the direction of the sketchpad the redhead held in her
hands. "I see you found them."
"This is me," she said softly in a voice tinged with surprise and awe as her
eyes went back to the page the pad had been left open to.
And indeed it was her. It was Willow as she had looked to Angel last night,
as something out of a dream. Her hair was up except for a few wisps that
had escaped her hair clip, and a tiny smile graced her lips. He’d drawn the
beach behind her, the waves rolling gently towards the shore as she stood
there, her shoes in her hand.
"Yes, it is. You don’t mind do you?" Angel asked, suddenly worried that
Willow would find a reason to object.
"Mind?" Willow echoed as she lifted her eyes to his face. "How could I
mind? It’s just this... this is amazing. I don’t think anyone’s ever drawn
me before."
"I have," the vampire admitted quietly, meeting the redhead’s stunned eyes.
"You have? When? Can I... can I see them?" She glanced down at the pad in
her hand. "Do you mind if I look at the rest of these?"
"No. No, not at all. I’ll be back in a moment. I’ve still got some of my
sketches, but a lot of them were lost in the explosion," he told her,
missing the way she winced at the reminder that someone had blown up his
home and office just months before. "I’ve tried to draw some of them again,
and Cordelia’s let me use some pictures she has in order to help me recreate
a few of them." With that, the vampire went off into the other room in
search of his drawings while Willow went back to what she held in her hands.
The first drawing was of Cordelia and Wesley, the pair laughing at some
shared joke while the brunette sat at her desk. The second was of just
Cordy by herself as she researched something, an annoyed look on her face.
The third was Wesley and another man, a man Willow had never seen before.
"Who’s this?" Willow asked as Angel came back into the room, a stack of
drawings in his hand. The vampire moved so that he was leaning on the arm
of the chair, and he glanced down at the young man Willow indicated.
"That’s Gunn. He helps out around here sometimes, and I help him out when
he needs it. He’s a good kid. You’d like him."
"Um, Angel? Where exactly is here?"
"Beg your pardon?"
"You said that Gunn helps out around here. Where exactly is here?"
Angel smiled as he stood. "A warehouse that’s been changed into an office
building and three apartments. Gunn, Wesley, and I all keep places here.
It’s not really done yet, but we’ve only had the place since July."
"Oh," the redhead said as she reached for the papers that Angel held in his
hand. He immediately relinquished them to her, and the young witch began
studying them as she continued to speak. "What about Cordy?"
"What about... Oh, you mean why doesn’t she live here, too? She didn’t want
to leave her roommate."
"Her roommate? I didn’t know-"
"He’s a ghost named Dennis," Angel interrupted with a smile.
"A ghost? I’m assuming he’s friendly." At Angel’s nod, she spoke again.
"I’ve never met a friendly ghost. In Sunnydale, they’re usually more of the
evil variety."
"I seem to recall one ghost who wasn’t," the vampire remarked just as Willow
came to a slightly charred drawing that was nearly three years old. She
smiled as she realized what it was.
"This is me. On Halloween. As a ghost."
"But the ghost of what?" he countered, looking pointedly at the leather
skirt and fishnet stockings she wore in the drawing.
The redhead sighed. "I’m still not sure about that. Buffy’s the one that
picked it out. You’d have to ask... her." Willow’s voice trailed off to a
near-whisper as she came to the last picture. It was a drawing of her and
Buffy at the senior prom, both of them laughing. They looked so happy. She
missed feeling that happy. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time, but
recently, in her time with Lindsey, she had begun to feel that maybe, just
maybe, she could be that happy again.
"Will? You okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine," she said as she handed the pictures back to the
vampire. "These... these are amazing. Thank you for letting me see them."
"Anytime," the vampire replied as he lay the drawings on the table.
"And thank you for bringing me here, too. Even though I’m still not sure
why you did."
"You were asleep," he told her simply, as if that explained everything.
"You could’ve woke me up."
"I didn’t want to disturb you. You... you just looked so peaceful. Peace
isn’t something any of us has had a lot of over the past few years."
"True enough," Willow replied, looking into the vampire’s compassionate
eyes. She couldn’t help wondering how much Angel knew about what had
happened with Tara, but she didn’t feel up to asking, and she knew he
wouldn’t bring it up outright. So, for now, she was safe.
At that moment, Willow heard a door from downstairs being flung open -
loudly - and she looked wonderingly at the vampire.
"My apartment’s in the loft, and that’s probably Cordelia coming in for
work." Smiling slightly, he reached out his hand to the small young woman.
"What do you say I take you downstairs so you can surprise the hell out of
her?"
Willow took his hand.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
"Good morning."
Lindsey turned at the voice, and he nodded at the woman who seemed to have a
gift at getting his hackles up. "Lilah," he responded with a nod, then
picked up his briefcase, moving towards the door of his office. "If you’ll
excuse me, I’m due in court."
Lilah Morgan nodded in acknowledgment of his claim, but stood her ground.
"I realize that. The case is really heating up. Another few weeks, and it
will all be over. But who will prevail?"
"I do my job, and I do it well."
"Of course you do. You always have. Well, almost always. You’ve always
been so focused on the win. But now... who’s the redhead, Lindsey?"
"What?"
"The redhead. The one I saw you at the movies with a few nights ago. You
were too busy staring at her to notice anything else, even me. I hope she
won’t be a distraction to you. This case is very important. Tad Clemens’s
father... well, I don’t have to remind you how much Milton Clemens means to
this firm."
"Yet you do it anyway."
"Yes, well, I thought I’d just give you a little friendly advice and-"
"When have you even been friendly?"
"Oh, that hurts. It really does, Lindsey. My point is, don’t screw this
up. Don’t let any distractions in, not even an adorable little redhead.
You can’t afford to make another mistake."
"If you weren’t such a bitch, I’d think you actually cared."
"I don’t care about you or your pathetic little life. I do, however, care
about me. And if you screw up again, Holland and the senior partners will
not be happy. That wouldn’t bode well for any of us."
"Well, thank you for the warning, Lilah, even though it was completely in
your own self-interest, but I can handle my own cases, as well as my own
life, which you would do well to stay out of. And that includes a certain
little redhead," Lindsey said calmly as he pushed past the female lawyer,
leaving Lilah behind, a speculative look on her face.
Part Nine
"Willow? Oh, my gosh, is it really you?"
The redhead opened her mouth to respond to the former cheerleader’s
question, only to end up with a mouthful of hair as the brunette crushed her
in an unexpected hug. Willow sputtered as Cordelia pulled away and studied
her face.
"I can’t believe this! I didn’t know you were coming." She turned her gaze
on the vampire who was standing in the doorway smiling. "Why didn’t you
tell me she was coming?"
Angel shrugged, amused and pleased at Cordelia’s reaction to seeing the
redhead for the first time in over a year. "I didn’t know."
"But... then... how..." Cordelia trailed off, confused, then tried again.
"How did you know where to find us?"
"I didn’t," Willow blurted out, then went on to clarify her statement. "I
mean, I knew Angel’s new phone number, but I didn’t know where his place
was. I live here now. In LA."
"And you didn’t tell me?" the brunette asked. She knew she and Willow had
never really been good friends, and she had no reason to feel hurt, but she
did.
"I didn’t tell anybody. Well, except for Graham. Until Angel and I ran
into each other on the beach last night, Graham was the only person who knew
where I was living. Now you know, too, and I’m guessing Wesley will soon."
"And Gunn," Cordy added, feeling a bit better now that she knew that
everyone, not just her, had been in the dark about the redhead’s
whereabouts.
"Well, considering the fact that I’ve never met him, I don’t think it’ll
matter all that much to him," Willow replied as she ran a hand through her
rumpled hair. The movement caused Cordelia to take notice of the redhead’s
wrinkled and mussed appearance, and she turned to frown at Angel.
"Why haven’t you given her some of my clothes to wear?"
"Excuse me?" the vampire asked, startled by the sudden change in subject.
"Well, her clothes have obviously been slept in. Now, if this were a normal
situation, I’d be thinking something happened, but since you’re still all
soul-having, I’m going to assume whatever happened isn’t something I should
worry about. However," she continued, reaching for the redhead’s hand and
heading off towards a door, dragging Willow behind her, "the fact that
Willow need something else to wear obviously is."
That said, she opened the door to the room, pulled Willow in behind her, and
shut the door.
The redhead looked around her, surprised to discover she was in a
bathroom/dressing room. The entire room was done in shades of mauve, and it
was clearly Cordelia’s.
"I thought you didn’t stay here."
"I don’t," the brunette replied as she opened a closet and began rummaging
through it. "However, I do keep several changes of clothes here so I won’t
have to run home every damn time I need to go undercover or change due to
being slimed."
"I’m assuming the possibility of being slimed is the reason for the shower."
"But of course," Cordy said as she handed Willow a red tank top, a pair of
shorts, and a towel. "Here. I figure you want to take a shower or
something first, then get dressed. This outfit should work; it’ll only be a
little big. Anyway, the guys decided I needed a room of my own or whatever
where I could keep my own stuff even though I don’t live here."
"That was certainly considerate of them," the redhead said as she turned on
the shower, testing the temperature of the water before stripping off her
dress and stepping under the spray, shutting the shower door behind her.
"Well, they are some of the most considerate guys in the world," the
brunette stated, raising her voice in order to be heard over the shower
spray. "Of course, I think they just wanted to make sure I didn’t take over
one of their bathrooms."
Willow laughed as she reached for Cordelia’s shampoo and began washing her
hair. "Probably," she said after a moment. "I mean, Riley’s complained
that Buffy’s taking over his bathroom, and she doesn’t even live there."
"He’s Buffy’s new boyfriend, right?"
"Yeah. Well, not so new anymore. They’ve been together since January, and
it’s September now."
"True enough. So, who’s this Graham guy?"
"What?"
"Graham. The other person who knows where you are. You mentioned him a few
minutes ago," the brunette prompted.
"Oh, him. He’s Riley’s roommate. Also a good friend of mine."
"How good?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, a friend to talk to, a friend to party with, or a friend to get
pelvic with?"
"Cordelia!" Willow exclaimed, opening the shower door slightly and peeking
out to give the secretary a stunned look.
"What? It’s a perfectly good question. Look, I know about the whole Tara
thing, but I also saw you with Oz, not to mention the whole Xander thing.
Okay, so you may be bi, but I know you have a thing for guys."
"I don’t want to talk about Tara," Willow said sharply, shutting the door
and lifting her face to the shower spray, trying to pretend the sting of
tears was really soap in her eyes. The way the brunette had said it, she
knew that the girl had no idea what had actually happened, and she wasn’t
ready to tell her about it, nor was she ready to discuss the real reasons
the relationship began in the first place.
"Willow? Oh, no, I said something really wrong, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything. I just wanted to find out
about Graham."
Graham. Just the thought of the man calmed her down slightly. During the
time in which she had become suspicious of Tara, he had been her rock. He
had listened to her suspicions, her fears, and he had helped her figure
everything out and pull herself out of it.
"Willow?"
"He’s a friend," the redhead finally replied, causing Cordelia to breathe a
quick sigh of relief. Willow was still talking to her. "A good friend, but
that’s it. He is gorgeous, though," she added as she shut the water off and
stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around herself.
"Look, Willow. What I said before-"
"Is nothing. Don’t worry about it. There’s... there’s just a lot that you
don’t know. There’s a lot that basically nobody knows. Except Graham."
"He’s special to you, isn’t he?"
"Yeah, I guess he is," the witch agreed as she finished drying off and
pulled on the clothes Cordelia had provided for her. "He was there, you
know? Everyone else was so busy with their own lives, but Graham was always
my friend. He always had time."
"And you left him?"
"He knew I needed to go. He even helped me go apartment-hunting and do all
the transfer stuff to get into UCLA."
"An apartment, huh? No dorm for you?" Cordy asked.
"Please. I did that last year," she replied as she completed the task of
towel-drying her hair. "Plus, I needed to be alone. I just wanted some
solitude for awhile."
"And this... solitude..." the brunette trailed off, then began again. "Does
it mean staying away from us, even though we know you’re here?"
Willow stood silently for a moment, gazing at herself in the mirror. Did it
mean that? She had come to LA in order to be alone, or at least anonymous.
Just a young red-haired woman who went to UCLA. But Lindsey already knew
about her magic, and he didn’t care. And Angel... well, it had just been so
nice, so comfortable being around in the vampire. In some ways, he reminded
her of Graham. Rather quiet, but you always knew he cared. And Cordelia...
It had been so long since Willow’d had a real conversation with another
female. Talking to a few girls in class didn’t count. She couldn’t really
be honest with them. But Cordy? Cordy she could be honest with, even if it
meant simply telling her she wasn’t ready to talk about something.
"No. No, it doesn’t. I thought it would, but I was wrong. I don’t want to
stay away from you guys," she said as she turned away from the mirror to
face the woman behind her.
"Good. Because I could certainly use another female around here."
"Excuse me?"
"Well, the guys are great. I’ll admit that. But they are just that: guys.
There are a lot of things that they just don’t understand. Not to mention
the fact that these aren’t even really normal guys. Gunn pretty much is,
but Angel’s got a couple of centuries under his belt, and Wesley is a stuffy
British guy."
"I see your point."
"Plus, we could probably use your help around here," Cordelia continued as
she opened the door and led the redhead back out into the main room, where
Wesley and a young man who had to be Gunn had joined Angel. "Angel’s the
best on a computer around here, and he’s been dead since 1753. Technology
is not exactly his forte, you know? So, we’d love to have you here, as both
friend and net girl. What do you say?"
"Shouldn’t this be Angel’s decision?"
Cordy shrugged. "Maybe. But I know he’ll feel the same way. Come on,
Will. Do you want to work with a former cheerleader, a former Watcher, a
street kid, and an ensouled vampire?"
Willow looked at the men that were halfway across the warehouse from her and
Cordelia. There was obvious camaraderie there, and she couldn’t help but
smile back when Angel glanced up and grinned at her. Biting her lip, she
looked around the place, then back at the people in the office, already
feeling a sense of belonging. Her smile widened slightly as she realized
that maybe, with the help of Lindsey and her friends here in LA, she could
find her niche again, somewhere where she belonged. Somewhere she could be
happy. She turned to Cordelia.
"I’d love to."
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Sighing, Lindsey stood at the mirror in the men’s room, studying himself.
He’d been good today. No, more than good. He’d been brilliant. He’d
twisted every single word Detective Kate Lockley had said until the jury
thought the woman was a liar and quite possibly insane. He’d then proceeded
to rip apart Lockley’s partner, making Detective Dean Wittmer look like a
drunken fool. Now, while is was true that Wittmer had once had a problem
with the bottle, he had, for the most part, gotten past it, and he was never
drunk on the job. Of course, after Lindsey McDonald had gotten through with
him, no one would ever believe that. No, the jury was probably picturing
Wittmer at a crime scene, beer bottle in hand as he interviewed witnesses.
He’d managed to get the legality of how the evidence was gathered called
into question, and there was every possibility that at least part of the
evidence would now be thrown out.
"Win at any cost. Isn’t that the way it goes, McDonald?"
Lindsey turned to see David Fielding, the assistant DA and the prosecutor in
the Clemens case, behind him. "Just doing my job."
"Yes. Wolfram and Hart will be so proud. Making a pair of fine detectives
look like fools in order to get a murderer acquitted."
"Keep your opinions to yourself, Fielding."
"We both know Tad Clemens murdered those girls. Everyone knows it, and that
fact won’t change even if you get all of the evidence thrown out. If
Clemens does go free, and ends up killing someone else, it’s on your
conscience. Oh, wait. You don’t have a conscience. Good day, counselor,"
David finished angrily before storming out.
Sighing, Lindsey went back to studying his face in the mirror. What
Fielding had said about Wolfram and Hart was true. The firm would
definitely be happy with the turn things had taken today. But what about
Willow? If she had been in that courtroom today, listening to him, and if
she had known the real facts of the case - if she had known what he knew -
what would she think of him?
He didn’t think he wanted to know.
Part Ten
"Well, somebody certainly looks happy this morning," Lindsey commented as he
came up beside Willow, reaching out to take her hand.
"I am."
"I can tell. I like it. I take it you had a good day yesterday," he
commented, smiling as she practically bounced in joy beside him. He hadn’t
seen her since Wednesday at lunch, and it was now Saturday morning. That
was far too much time without a meeting for Lindsey’s tastes. There was
just something so young and innocent and... refreshing about this girl. He
couldn’t get enough of her. And in some ways, it made him feel almost as if
he was regaining some of the innocence that he had lost so long ago. The
innocence he had lost when he went to work for Wolfram and Hart.
"The best," she confirmed with a grin, turning so that she was walking
backwards and facing him as they made their way through the park. It had
been a little over a week since she had met up with Angel on the beach and
gone to work for the ensouled vampire, and slightly more than two weeks
since she had first met Lindsey. Lindsey knew she was working part time
doing secretarial work (well, actually, she mostly did research for the
vampire) for an old friend, but he didn’t know who the ‘old friend’ was.
All he knew was that she seemed happy, and that was good enough for him. It
was good enough for her as well.
"Are you going to tell me about this good day you had, or are you going to
make me beg?" Lindsey asked the redhead when she didn’t elaborate. After
yet another week in the courtroom defending Tad Clemens, he needed this. He
needed the good news and the smiles Willow brought into his life.
He needed her.
The thought was more than a little unsettling to Lindsey McDonald. In the
past, he had always made sure that he never actually *needed* anybody.
Sure, he had made alliances with people - and some non-human individuals as
well - but he had always made sure that those alliances were broken as
quickly and easily as they were made. That way, no one got to close, and no
one really mattered. Over the past few years, Lindsey had been careful not
to allow someone to get under his skin; he had never allowed himself to need
someone. But now, after less than three weeks, he found himself looking
forward to even a glimpse of Willow, to seeing her smile, hearing her voice.
He simply looked forward to her.
He was falling for her.
"Lindsey? Are you okay?"
He shook off the rather unnerving train of thought he had been on and
focused once more on the lovely young woman in front of him. "I’m fine,
Willow. Really. I was just thinking."
"Thinking, huh?" she asked as changed positions so that she was once more
beside him instead of walking backwards in front of him. "I take it
yesterday wasn’t as good for you as it was for me then."
Lindsey shrugged, thinking of his day in court. Things were still going
well for Wolfram and Hart’s client - Lindsey had made a Medical Examiner
look like a fool the afternoon before - but that didn’t necessarily
translate into a good day for him. No, it just meant more of this
unfamiliar unease and guilt he had been feeling lately, as well as an even
stronger desire to keep Willow from finding out just what he really did
while he was at work during the week. The redhead knew that he was a
lawyer, but she didn’t know he did anything in his power to get his clients
off even if they were guilty as sin. And Tad Clemens was certainly that.
And Lindsey was trying his damnedest to get the guy acquitted of a double
homicide with kidnapping and some torture thrown in for good measure. And
Lindsey knew that the kid had done it. In fact, during his conversations
with Lindsey, Tad seemed almost proud of his accomplishments. And Lindsey
was trying to get the jury to return a verdict of not guilty. "Let’s just
say my day wasn’t anything to write home about."
"Case not going well?"
'Depends on your perspective,' Lindsey thought sardonically, but all he said
aloud was, "I’m just not sure I’m going to like the outcome."
"Oh. I’m sorry."
'So am I.' The thought popped into his head and was almost out of his mouth
before he clamped down on it. Good Lord, he was on his way to winning the
unwinnable case, and he was sorry about it. Maybe he really was losing it.
Or maybe being Willow had just caused him to grow a conscience again.
Damn it.
Sighing, Lindsey shook his head. "Don’t worry about the case. I’m sure
things will work out in the end. Why don’t you tell me about what happened
yesterday?"
"Well, if you’re sure... I mean, if you want to talk about your day
instead... you know, get it off your chest or whatever..."
"No. Please. I could use the pick-me-up. What exactly is it that has made
you so happy?"
"Well... it’s... it’s not that much, really. I mean, I got my first
cultural anthropology test back this week, and I totally aced it, which was
good. And yesterday I went shopping with an old friend," she continued,
smiling at the memory of shopping with Cordelia Chase. She had never
thought she’d enjoy doing something as simple as that - especially not with
a champion shopper like Cordy - but it had been a blast. Angel had given
them both most of the day off, which meant that they’d not only shopped,
they’d had lunch and gone to a movie as well. It had truly been a ‘girls’
day out,’ something the redhead hadn’t had in awhile. She had missed it.
Smiling slightly at the realization that she and Cordelia were actually
becoming friends - no, not becoming friends; they were friends - she
continued. "Anyway, after my arduous day of shopping and basically goofing
off, I went home with a few rented movies, but about halfway through the
first one, an old friend from home called, and I ended up staying up and
talking to him half the night."
Willow smiled contentedly at the memory. It had been so good to hear
Graham’s voice, and they’d had so much to talk about. School, her job, what
was going on with the Scooby gang, Lindsey, Graham’s string of lousy blind
dates Riley and Buffy kept setting him up on. Willow had to admit that she
really missed Graham now that she lived in LA, but she still had no plans to
go back to Sunnydale. She just couldn’t fathom the idea of leaving Lindsey,
Angel, and the others - she was even getting along well with both Gunn and
Wesley - no matter how much she missed her friend. Of course, that didn’t
mean he couldn’t come visit her at some point. And, when she was ready to
go back and face everything and everybody in Sunnydale, maybe she could
visit him, too.
"Him?" Lindsey said with a dramatically raised eyebrow, breaking into her
thoughts. "Should I be worried?" ha asked as he lifted the hand he was
holding to his lips and kissed Willow’s palm.
"I wish," the redhead responded with a laugh before looking at Lindsey out
of the corner of her eye and grinning. "Graham and I are just friends.
Nothing more."
"Graham, huh? Sounds like a pocket protector type of name," he said,
causing Willow to let out a peal of laughter.
"Not even close. He’s majorly buff and really good-looking. No pocket
protectors in sight."
"And that’s supposed to reassure me?"
"Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to say he’s dog ugly and has some type of
particularly nasty fungus?" she teased.
"Well, actually..."
"Lindsey!"
"Okay, okay. I suppose I should be happy that you were honest enough to
admit that you find him attractive..."
"Well, if it helps, I also find John Cusack attractive, but that doesn’t
mean I ever plan to jump him or anything. The same goes for Graham. He’s
my friend, and I adore him, but that’s as far as it ever goes. I admit,
he’s an attractive man, but I’m not going to jump him. That’s just not
going to happen."
"What about me?"
"Are you my friend? Of course you are."
"Willow..."
"I know what you mean, I was just being obtuse... Which question do you want
me answer? Do I find you attractive, or do I plan on jumping you sometime
soon?"
"Either one. Or both."
Willow stopped for a moment, pretending to think. Lindsey watched her
impatiently, and she grinned suddenly, leaning in to kiss him before dancing
away, informing him of her answer.
"Yes to the first one. As for the second... only if you’re really, really
lucky."
Lindsey laughed as he went to follow her, knowing that if there was one
thing he was, it was lucky.
Part Eleven
"Lindsey?" The name was called out tentatively as Willow entered the
apartment and quietly closed the door behind her. It was Thursday night,
and nearly two weeks had passed since their day in the park. The witch and
the lawyer had gone out four times since then, and they’d had another date
planned for tonight.
But Lindsey had never showed up.
The redhead had given him the benefit of the doubt for awhile, checking her
hair and makeup and even changing dresses while she waited for him,
wondering if he’d gotten stuck at the office or lost track of time. And
there was always the possibility that he’d gotten stuck in traffic. Their
apartments might not be far apart, but she knew the law firm he worked for
was a good twenty minutes away, so traffic actually was a viable option.
After awhile of giving the benefit of the doubt, she began to get annoyed at
him for not at least calling to tell her he’d be late, especially since
she’d taken off from work an hour early so she’d have time to get dressed
and ready before Lindsey picked her up for the play they were going to see.
After about fifteen minutes of being annoyed, she’d slipped slightly into
worried, and had then done something she’d never thought she’d do. She’d
called the office phone number on the card he’d given her the second time
they’d met, and she’d become more worried when the secretary she’d talked to
had told her that Mr. McDonald had left more than an hour earlier. In fact,
she’d informed Willow, it was actually closer to two hours by now. So
Willow had thanked the woman for the information, hung up, and immediately
called Lindsey’s cell phone number followed by his home phone number. He
didn’t answer either one. And it was at this point when the redhead, pacing
back and forth in a mixture of annoyance and worry, had spotted the key to
Lindsey’s apartment. She’d had it for nearly a month now, ever since she’d
passed out from overusing her magic on their first day and ended up spending
the night at his place. He’d left it for her so she could lock up the next
day, and she’d kept forgetting to give it back. Plus, Lindsey had never
asked for it, which made it all the easier to forget.
So that was how she ended up walking into Lindsey’s apartment with visions
of him lying on the kitchen floor unconscious - or something equally as
unlikely - dancing in her head.
As she heard the sounds of the television, Willow’s frown deepened, and she
cautiously made her way to the living room of the apartment, wondering what
she would find. The sight that greeted her made her stop short.
Lindsey sat on the couch, a beer bottle in his hand, and several other
bottles - most of which appeared to be empty, and not all of which were beer
bottles - scattered around him. He was still wearing the suit he had
probably worn to work, which was now rumpled, and his tie had been loosened.
The television was tuned in to professional wrestling, and it took Willow
a moment to register the fact that yes, indeed, Lindsey really was watching
WWF Smackdown. Or, at least, that was what was on. Given the faraway look
on his face, she couldn’t be sure he was actually watching it.
Now more alarmed than anything else, the redhead stepped farther into the
room, stopping when she stood just a few feet away from him. "Lindsey?
Lindsey, are you okay? Damn it, why won’t you speak to me?"
Cheers erupted from the crowd on television, and Willow glared at the
offending screen before picking up the remote and turning the show off just
as The Rock threw Triple H out of the ring. Sighing, she turned back to
Lindsey, who was still staring at the TV, thus confirming her belief that he
hadn’t really been watching the show anyway.
Deciding that she needed to switch back to anger and forego her alarm for
now, she leaned in close to the man before her, taking in his slightly
bloodshot eyes. "You’re drunk," she said after a moment of studying him,
then stepped away. "Great. This is just great. Fantastic, really. I’m
worried about you because you don’t show up for a date, and you’re just at
home getting drunk off your ass." Taking a moment to glare at him, she
began pacing the small area between the large coffee table and the
television. "Goddess. What the hell is the matter with you? You wanted to
break our date? Fine. But you could have at least called to tell me!"
"A murderer went free today."
The words were said so softly that they almost didn’t register with the
angry redhead. When they did, however, she stopped short and turned to look
at him. "What did you say?"
"A murderer went free today."
"But that isn’t your fault."
"Yes, it is. You see, I’m the one who got him off. Acquitted of all
charges, he’s free to go. But those girls he killed, those girls are still
dead. Gone. Always will be. Here’s to the American legal system," he
slurred, lifting his beer in a mock toast before taking a long gulp.
"If he was acquitted there had to have been a reason for it," the redhead
reasoned as she sat down beside the lawyer.
"There was. It was me. I made everyone look like an idiot, and I got him
free. He deserved to die, Willow. California has the death penalty, you
know. And this guy... he deserved it. Damn it, he should have gotten worse
than the death penalty. Gas chamber, lethal injection, that’s so simple, so
much less than what he did to those girls. He should have gotten worse.
Hanging, Chinese water torture, locked in a room with Celine Dion playing
full blast. Now those... those would be much more fitting punishments," he
informed her drunkenly as he lifted his beer for another drink. He frowned
when he realized the bottle was empty. Shifting in his seat, he began
searching for a new drink, but Willow grabbed his hands, stopping him. She
had no clue what case he was talking about - he’d never discussed it with
her, and she tended to avoid the news - but she did know one thing. Lindsey
was hurting, and she had no idea what to do.
"You’ve had enough. In fact, you’ve had more than enough."
"I want another beer!" he told her, pulling away.
"No, damn it!" she cried, standing along with him when he made a move to
head towards the refrigerator. "You’re drunk!"
"Maybe I want to be drunk," he informed her, swaying slightly. "Maybe I
need it!" With that, he started moving around her. "Get out of my way."
"No! Please, Lindsey, you’re scaring me!"
And that was enough to stop him. Taking a moment to steady himself, he
turned to gaze into her face, taking in the distress on her features and
tears in her eyes. The sight sobered him a great deal. "I’m sorry," he
said softly, lifting his hand to her face. "I didn’t mean to scare you. I
would never, ever want to scare you."
Still shaking inside, Willow stepped back a step, trying to get control of
herself. She’d seen the awareness return to his eyes, and she somehow knew
that, at least for now, things were okay again. "It’s all right. It’s...
everything’s fine."
"You’re shaking," Lindsey said then, trailing his hand over her arm.
Carefully, he urged her closer, drawing her into his arms. "I’m sorry,
Willow. I’m so sorry I scared you. I never meant to bring you into this.
I never meant for you to see me like this."
Willow allowed him to pull her close, and she wrapped her arms around his
waist. "What’s going on, Lindsey? I... I don’t understand."
"I made a mistake, and a murderer went free today. I knew he was guilty.
The judge knew he was guilty. He knew he was guilty. But the jury said he
wasn’t, so now he’s free to go about his business."
"Doesn’t that make it the jury’s fault?"
"Partly, I guess. But someone had to convince them."
"And that someone was you?"
"Yeah."
"Why’d you do it?"
"It was my job. And I’m damn good at my job. And right now I hate that
about myself."
Willow nodded against his chest, torn. She wasn’t naive enough to think
that the justice system always worked; she knew it was flawed. She knew
criminals had gone free before, and she knew they would again. This
certainly wasn’t the only time something like this had happened. But, she
wondered silently, how many lawyers reacted to it in this way? How many
lawyers who got criminals free were so torn up inside about it? She somehow
doubted that they had Lindsey’s reaction. And, even though she couldn’t
change the events of the day, she was going to do whatever she could to help
Lindsey through it. She just didn’t know what that was.
Sighing softly, Willow tightened her grip on Lindsey slightly before lifting
her head and looking into his face. It was then that she realized just what
it was Lindsey needed. The hunger and need in his eyes was almost palpable,
his eyes darkened when Willow lifted her hand to her face and traced first
his cheek, then his lips.
"Willow?" Lindsey questioned, knowing he was aching to have her but knowing
that it had to be her choice.
And it wasn’t a choice that she made lightly. Willow had fallen for the man
before her, and she could now honestly say that she was in love with him.
She wanted him, of that there was no question. And he needed her. As she
needed him. So, although the choice wasn’t made lightly or rashly, because
she had thought of it long and hard before, the decision was an easy one.
"Yes," she whispered as she drew his lips down to hers.
Part Twelve
Something cool was being rubbed on her skin.
The unexpected sensation was the first thing Willow noticed when she began
to make her way from sleeping to consciousness the next morning, and she
groaned slightly as she opened her eyes. She immediately realized that she
was in Lindsey’s bedroom - his bed to be exact - and his face was mere
inches from hers.
Not a bad way to wake up. In fact, she was pretty sure she really liked it.
Of course, there was still the matter of something cold being rubbed over
the skin of her throat and upper chest.
"What are you doing?" she asked sleepily, raising up on one elbow so that
she could look down at herself and see exactly what it was that Lindsey was
concentrating on. She was surprised by what she saw.
The pale skin of her upper chest was red and slightly abraded, something she
knew hadn’t been there before last night. Confused, she raised her gaze to
Lindsey’s face, and he looked away guiltily.
"I’m sorry. I...I should have shaved first. I didn’t even think," he told
her softly, and Willow’s eyes widened when she realized that it the marks
had been caused by his unshaved cheeks. A slight blush rose to her cheeks
when she found herself wondering just what other... interesting places on
her body carried the mark of Lindsey McDonald’s five o’clock shadow.
"Willow?" Lindsey asked, a bit disturbed by her silence. "Are you okay?"
The redhead snapped out of her daze, once more raising her eyes to look at
Lindsey. "What?" she asked a split second before his question registered.
When it did, she quickly answered him. "Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Better than
fine, actually," Willow told him with a small smile. "It’s just... I didn’t
even feel them," she informed him, gesturing to the marks that marred her
skin.
"But that doesn’t change the fact that I put them there," Lindsey argued,
angry with himself for putting marks on her flawless skin.
"Lindsey," Willow said, stopping his movements by grasping his wrist. She
waited for him to look at her face before continuing. "You’re acting like
you hit me or something. All you did was... well, you didn’t shave. It’s
not a big deal. It’s like... what if my fingernails had scratched your back
last night?" she asked. Her eyes widened when a reluctant smile tugged at
the corners of the lawyer’s lips. "I didn’t... did I?" Quickly, she sat up
in bed, allowing the sheet to fall unheeded to her waste in her hurry to
look at his back. His smooth, unmarred back. "I didn’t... You jerk, you
let me think I did! You lied to me!" she chastised him, playfully shoving
at his chest.
"I never actually said anything," he reminded her, still smiling. "But it
was worth it to see the look on your face." His smile faded as he looked at
the red marks - which were admittedly already quite faded - that had been
left by the beginnings of his beard. "I am sorry, though," he told her,
gesturing to the marks.
"It was an accident. I mean, it’s like if you dropped something heavy, and
it landed on my foot. I certainly wouldn’t blame you for it, okay? I'd
probably milk it for all it was worth, but I wouldn't blame you for it. So
stop being all broody; you’re beginning to remind me of my boss. I’m not
hurt or anything, okay? I’ve had a lot worse things than this happen to
me."
"You have, haven’t you?" Lindsey asked, the mood suddenly turning very
serious.
"You could say that."
"I just did. And so, as a matter of fact, did you. Someone hurt you
before. Did the person hit you?"
"There are other ways to hurt someone," Willow replied, leaning against the
headboard and drawing the covers up around her like a buffer against the
things she didn’t want to face.
"Why did you come here to LA? Why did you leave your home?" he asked before
he could stop himself. He’d always wondered, but he’d never asked out of
fear that he would drive her away. But now... now he just needed to know.
He waited for a moment, wondering if Willow would refuse him, but then she
sighed, and he knew she had given in.
"I wasn’t going to tell you. Partly because it’s hard to talk about, and
partly because I didn’t want you to think less of me."
"I could never-"
"Don’t. I haven’t even told you yet," she said, cutting off his statement.
"There... there was someone. Or, if you want to start at the beginning of
my parade of pain, there were two someones. The first was my first
boyfriend. I loved him, and well, if he was my first boyfriend, I’m sure
you can also guess that he was my first lover."
"You loved him."
"Yes, I did... And are you sure you want to hear this?"
"Can’t really say that I am. But you need to tell it, of that much I’m
sure."
Willow nodded slowly, then gazed steadily into Lindsey’s eyes. "I love you.
I... just need you to know that. And I don’t want anything I’m about to
say to make you think any differently. So... just know that I really do
love you."
In response, Lindsey reached out and took Willow’s hand, lifting it to his
lips and pressing a kiss to her palm before meeting her eyes again. "I love
you, too," he told her. Little did she know that it was the first time he’d
ever said those words to a woman who wasn’t his mother or his sister. And
it had been a long time since he had said it to them.
Smiling slightly at his statement, Willow nodded, then continued her story.
"Things... things were good for awhile. But then... one day I walked in on
him and another girl. So, that relationship was over. I mean, he didn’t
even try to work things out with me. He just left. The next person... it’s
complicated."
"How so?"
"The person was a witch. Also a she. Her name was Tara, and she nearly
destroyed me."
"Your powers," Lindsey whispered, thinking back to the night she had
collapsed right after performing a spell. The night he had discovered that
Willow was a witch.
"I was lonely. My friends all had people they were with, and Oz had left
not long before. And there was Tara. She was someone I could do spells
with. I guess... I guess it never occurred to me that she saw me as someone
she could do spells on... not just with. She cast a spell that would draw
me to her, and it worked. I lied to my friends, and she became way too
important to me. The spell was so strong... I thought I was falling for
her. She intended it to be that way. She made it so that I would choose
her over everything... Even when Oz came back, he couldn’t break through it.
I even chose her over him. But then... things started being weird. Or
weirder, anyway. There were times that I just couldn’t account for. I had
no idea what I was doing or who I was with during those times, and it scared
me. Plus, I noticed that I was beginning to get weaker. Simple spells that
I used to be able to do with one hand tied behind my back were starting to
make me shaky. I didn’t know what to do. Oddly, enough, my friends
were happy that I had found Tara. Sometimes I think it was just because it
got me to stop whining about Oz. But the point is... well..."
"You didn’t know who to turn to," Lindsey supplied, trying to keep the
horror out of his voice over what had apparently been done to the woman in
front of him. Some witch had controlled her, caused her to have feelings
for her, all so she could betray her in some awful way.
"I wasn’t sure who to go to is more like it. I thought Giles might help,
but I wasn’t sure how to approach him. I mean, he’s a friend, but he’s old
enough to be my dad or something, and I wasn’t sure how he would take what
was going on. I mean, he was okay with the me and Tara thing. But
discussing it with him? I just couldn’t picture it. So I went to Graham
instead. He listened to me, and he took care of me, and he helped me find
out what Tara was up to."
"And what was she up to?"
"She was... well, first you need to know that she found me in a Wicca group
at school. Tara is powerful enough to sense power in others, even the
slightest bit, and apparently that’s why she chose me. I had a lot of
power, and she wanted it. So she cast a spell over me, and, once I was
vulnerable to her, she began siphoning off my power. It’s why my spells
were getting weaker."
"Couldn’t that-" Lindsey cut off his statement as abruptly as he had begun
it, not wanting to say the words. Of course, that didn’t stop Willow from
saying them.
"Kill me? Yeah, it could. But Graham and I figured out what was going on
and stopped her before she did any permanent damage. My powers are
recharging, actually, although it’s a slow process. Anyway, after
everything that happened, I decided I needed to leave, and that’s when I
came here."
"Is Tara still there?"
"No. She left. I don’t know where she is now, but I’m pretty sure she’ll
never be coming back. Graham... well, let’s just he can be very convincing
when he needs to be. Not even witches can fight a bullet, and Graham’s a
pretty damn good shot."
"I think I like this guy."
"So do I," Willow concurred, a ghost of a smile coming to her lips.
"Willow...," Lindsey began, suddenly feeling the need to reassure her about
his intentions. "I just want you to know that I would never... I promise
that-"
"Don’t."
"Don’t what?"
"Make promises about not hurting me or anything like that. Promises like
that are hard to keep, and it hurts when people break them."
"But I-"
"Please, Lindsey. I would rather have no promises at all than more broken
ones."
Part Thirteen
"Well, well, well. If it isn’t Wolfram and Hart’s current favorite.
Brilliant job in the courtroom, Lindsey. Congratulations on your victory,"
Lilah said, gazing at her slightly haggard-looking colleague. "What did you
do, spend the weekend celebrating?"
"Is that your way of telling me I look like hell?" Lindsey asked, barely
looking at the woman as she fell into step beside him.
"Well..."
"What do you want, Lilah?"
"Aren’t we chipper this morning? Does this charming attitude have anything
to do with a certain little redhead?" she asked, causing Lindsey to pause in
his attempt to get away from her.
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"
Lilah smiled then, and Lindsey was reminded of the phrase ‘the cat that ate
the canary.’ It definitely fit as a description of Lilah’s predatory grin.
"Well, I came by your place yesterday to offer my, well, personal
congratulations. Imagine my surprise when I saw a redhead - the same
redhead I saw you at the movies with awhile back - leaving your apartment.
It’s been what, a month? That’s got to be a record for you."
Lindsey grimaced, not wanting to broach the subject of Willow with Lilah.
Lilah was, after all, a total piranha, and Willow... well, she was just so
sweet. And she was still hurting over the events of the past year, that
much was obvious.
Lindsey had originally been hurt by Willow’s unwillingness to accept any
promises he could give, but he’d since decided that she just wasn’t ready
for it. He knew she loved him - she wouldn’t have told him she did if she
didn’t - and he loved her as well. She was just leery about trusting
someone completely again, especially someone she had only for a short time.
He knew she already trusted him to some extent, though, whether she realized
it or not. She wouldn’t have been with him, or told her she loved him, or
told him about Oz and Tara if she didn’t. She just wasn’t ready to hear his
promises; she couldn’t stand it if they were broken once more. And she’d
had enough broken promises to last her for a lifetime.
And that was something Lindsey knew about. He’d suffered through the broken
promises of his father and old friends, and he knew how much it hurt. He
could understand Willow’s desire not to have promises made, especially
promises that were spoken in haste. He didn’t care for promises himself,
and he rarely made them. But those he did make, he took seriously. Lindsey
McDonald may have been a lawyer with all kinds of dirty tricks up his
sleeve, but he kept his promises.
"Well, Lindsey?" Lilah’s annoyed voice broke into his thoughts, and he
looked over at her.
"What?"
"Oh, my. This is very interesting. She’s certainly got your undivided
attention, doesn’t she? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this hung up on a
woman. She must be quite... talented. I wonder... whatever is it that she
does to keep you so attentive?"
"Why do you ask, Lilah?" Lindsey queried as he stepped into the elevator and
pressed the button for his floor. He waited until the doors were in the
process of closing leaving Lilah in the lobby, before he made his parting
remark. "You looking for some pointers?"
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
"Hey, Beautiful," Gunn said as he entered the room, employing one of the
vast array of nicknames and endearments he used when referring to Willow or
Cordelia. He tended to only use their given names when things were serious,
so the redhead had no problem with the endless string of names he used for
her.
"Hey yourself."
"You’re looking lovely today."
"And you’re being flattery guy again. That usually means you want
something," Willow replied, giving the young man a look.
"You wound me with your suspicious words."
"What does he want now?" Cordelia asked as she entered the office. She’d
heard much of the conversation, and she knew Gunn was after a favor of some
type.
"Well you two are no fun," Gunn said with a grin, dropping the act and
pulling out a file. "Angel just wants Red here to go online and check some
stuff out for him. I was just trying to be nice before I tossed it on her."
"That bad, huh?" Willow asked, reaching out to receive the folder the young
man held out to her.
"Not really. It’s just on the worst of the constant pains in our collective
asses."
"Wolfram and Hart?" Cordelia asked, not noticing the way Willow seemed to
jerk in surprise at the name.
"And the Duchess gets it on the first guess," Gunn replied, confirming that
it was indeed a file on the law firm.
"I... I don’t think anyone’s told me about Wolfram and Hart before," Willow
said slowly, biting her lip. "Um... what exactly is it that Angel wants me
to do with this?"
"It’s no big deal, really. Angel just wants you to run a check on a few of
their current clients. Check out the demon-to-human ratio."
"Excuse me?" Willow asked, trying to cover the shock on her face.
Demon-to-human ratio? Wolfram and Hart? Lindsey worked for Wolfram and
Hart. Maybe... maybe it was a different Wolfram and Hart. Oh, who was she
kidding? Law firms didn’t exactly go around naming themselves after each
other. It had to be the same firm.
"Oh, man, you’ve really been left in the dark, haven’t you, Beautiful?" Gunn
asked, smiling when Willow glared at him. "Look, why don’t I leave you and
Princess here alone so she can fill you in on things. I’ve got some errands
to run for our fearless leader. Later, ladies," he said as he left the
room. Willow stared after him for a moment, then turned to Cordelia.
"Wolfram and Hart?"
"Oh, yes, the evil law firm. Very much of the bad. Stay as far away from
them as you can."
"Is... is everyone in the firm bad?"
"Well, I haven’t met them all... but yes," Cordelia replied. "I mean, come
on. My first encounter with one of their clients? He turned out to be a
vampire named Russell Winters that wanted to eat me for dinner. He even
shot Angel. Of course, Angel shoved him out a window, and into the
oh-so-unhealthy sunlight, so that ended in a win for the good guys."
"What else?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... what else has Wolfram and Hart done? If they’re our big enemy,
shouldn’t I know everything?" Willow asked while chanting over and over
again in her mind *Please not Lindsey, please not Lindsey, please not
Lindsey.*
"You’re right, you should," Cordy replied as she sat on the edge of the
redhead’s desk. The brunette was so caught up in her thoughts of the law
firm that she didn’t even notice how tense her friend was. "Um, well, where
do I begin?" Cordelia asked rhetorically, getting into the role of
storyteller. "I’ve done, the beginning... so I guess I’ll try and keep it
fairly chronological. After Winters, we didn’t hear to much from Wolfram
and Hart for awhile. Then... I think I told you how I was kidnapped and
auctioned off because of my visions, didn’t I?"
"Uh, yeah, you did," Willow answered, wishing Cordelia wasn’t going to say
what she thought she was. The redhead didn’t get her wish.
"Well, they’re the ones who bought me. Not only that, but they were going
to have my eyes removed, too. I mean, eww. After that, well, there was the
Faith thing."
"Faith thing?" Willow repeated, somewhat woodenly, her mind whirling with a
mixture of what she was being told and denials that Lindsey was involved.
Sure, Wolfram and Hart was bad. She bought that now. But maybe Lindsey
didn’t know.
"Yeah. They were the ones who paid Faith to kill Angel. Then, when she
screwed then over and didn’t do it, well... we’re pretty sure Wolfram and
Hart were the ones that told the cops where Faith was. Then there’s
Lindsey."
"Lindsey," Willow repeated, her throat doing that thing where it felt like
it was closing.
"Lindsey McDonald. Very much a hottie, but quite the bad guy."
"How so?" Willow asked, still hoping this was all a big mistake and it
wasn’t him, but knowing it was irrational to do so.
"You name it, he’s probably done it," Cordelia replied with a smirk,
completely oblivious to the redhead’s distress. "You remember last spring
when I called you for some help on some encrypted disks? Well, Lindsey was
actually the one who helped us get them. See, he’d gotten this blind
assassin acquitted for murder. And she was definitely a murderer. Angel
saw her kill a person, but he couldn’t testify. It really screwed him up,"
she said, thinking of the vampire’s reaction to the news that Vanessa Brewer
had been found not guilty. She’d never seen him so upset. "Anyway, it
turned out that the chick’s next assignment was a bunch of kids. Lindsey
suddenly grew a conscious - momentarily, at least - and he helped us save
the kids. But then, he went right back to Wolfram and Hart, even got
promoted to junior partner. Got nastier than ever after that, too. You
know how I got those continuous visions and Angel’s place was blown up and
everything?" she asked, then continued without waiting for Willow to answer.
"Well, the big shots of the firm called forth that guy that did it, and
the only way to stop what was happening was this scroll, so Angel went after
it. Lindsey tried to burn it, which would have made me have continuous
visions forever. So, in order to get the scroll back, Angel kind of cut off
his hand. Haven’t really seen him since then. Anyway, that’s the story of
Wolfram and Hart," the brunette finished, finally turning to look at her
friend. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, fine. I just want to get this done. Thanks for the info, though,"
Willow replied as she began methodically looking up the list of names Angel
had asked her to check out, not even noticing when Cordelia got up and left
the office. She was moving on automatic pilot, her mind nowhere near the
task at hand.
Every last futile denial that Willow had been clinging to had rushed out of
her head as she finally allowed all the details to pile up. Lindsey
McDonald worked for Wolfram and Hart as a junior partner. He was, as Cordy
had put it, a hottie. He had lost his hand. Too many details were the
same; not even the most deluded person in the world could deny the truth.
There were no mistakes or coincidences here. The Lindsey McDonald that
Cordelia had just told her about was the same Lindsey McDonald that Willow
had fallen in love with, and that meant he was an enemy of Angel
Investigations, and that led to only one line of logic.
Angel Investigations fought against evil.
Angel Investigations fought Wolfram and Hart.
Lindsey McDonald worked for Wolfram and Hart.
Therefore, Lindsey McDonald had to be evil.
And now, she was going to be sick.
Part Fourteen
Lindsey made his way to his apartment, muttering a few not-so-nice things
about the less-than-sunny weather Los Angeles was currently enduring.
Sighing, he ran a hand through his soaked hair, mad that he hadn’t had an
umbrella with him, but knowing that it was useless to berate himself,
especially since it was so rare to actually need an umbrella in southern
California.
As he reached his building, he quickly stepped inside and headed for the
elevator, eager to get home. Once the elevator doors opened, releasing him
to his floor, he stepped out and made a beeline for his door. He unlocked
it quickly, then headed inside, dropping his briefcase by the front door.
He was smiling slightly, relishing the thought of taking a hot shower, then
sitting down to watch the Lakers game. He’d call Willow, too, maybe make
some plans for the next day...
Lindsey stopped short as he entered his living room, his heartbeat seeming
to triple as he realized that someone was in the room, sitting quietly in
the dark. He watched with wide eyes for a moment, trying to make out the
person’s shape in the incredibly dim light, then breathed a sigh of relief
when he saw figured out who it was.
"Willow?" he said questioningly, his brow furrowing in confusion when she
didn’t immediately reply. Worried, he stepped closer to her, turning on the
floor lamp as he went. What he saw stunned him.
It was Willow; he had been right about that. But it wasn’t the Willow he
was used to seeing. The Willow sitting in his leather chair was not sunny
and smiling and happy to see him. No, this Willow soaking wet and
shivering, and he could see by her red-rimmed eyes that she had been crying.
"Willow, honey, what is it?" he asked as he knelt beside her. "What’s
wrong?" Unsure of what to do, he reached out to her, then flinched when she
jerked away, actually climbing over the arm of the chair and standing up in
order to avoid him.
"Don’t. Touch. Me." The words were said in a voice filled with anger and
pain and hatred, and Lindsey winced at both the meaning of the words and the
message in the tone.
"Willow, what’s going on? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me."
"I didn’t come here for your help."
"Then what did you come here for?" he asked in what he hoped was a
reasonable voice. He’d spent much of his life avoiding being around upset
women, and he now found himself completely out of his element and hating
himself for it. How was he supposed to make things better if he didn’t even
know where to start?
"I came to tell you that it’s over," Willow replied, her voice now
emotionless. Lindsey wasn’t sure which he liked less, the hatred or the
complete lack of... anything.
"What’s over?" he asked as dread filled his heart.
"This game, all the lies... Us. We’re over, Lindsey."
"No, Willow, you don’t mean that."
"Don’t tell me what I mean. I know what I mean. It’s over, Lindsey. I
can’t be with you anymore. You see, I found some things out today. I know
who you are."
"I know who I am, too," Lindsey replied in an offhand voice that belied the
fact that his stomach was clenched and he was mentally chanting ‘she doesn’t
know the truth, she doesn’t know the truth, she doesn’t know the truth.’
"I’m Lindsey McDonald-"
"Lawyer for Wolfram and Hart," Willow finished. "One of their best,
actually. Junior partner and everything."
"I told you all of that weeks ago," Lindsey said, irritated. What was she
getting at?
"That’s true, but at the time, I didn’t know what that meant. But I know
now. You see, you work for Wolfram and Hart," Willow explained, her voice
shaking, whether in anger or sadness neither of them knew for sure. "And I
work for Angel Investigations."
"So... what did you say?"
"I work for Angel Investigations," she repeated, enunciating each word
carefully. "I believe you’ve heard of them. They’ve certainly heard of
you."
"Look, Willow, I don’t know what they told you, but you shouldn’t be working
for them. It’s just not safe. I mean, you don’t know these people. Angel,
well, he’s-"
"A vampire. I’m very much aware of that fact. I have been for nearly four
years. And Cordelia? I went to high school with her. So don’t tell me I
don’t know these people, because I do. Apparently, I know them far better
than I ever knew you."
"And that’s it? Because of what they told you, it’s over? How do you know
they didn’t lie to you just to get you away from me?"
"Because they don’t know I’m with you. They knew I was seeing someone, but
I never told them your name. So, when Cordy told me about the bad guys,
well, she just told me about the bad guys. You just happened to be part of
that group. What a role you played, too. I was quite impressed. Or I
would have been, if it hadn’t made me throw up."
"Willow, please-" he nearly begged, stepping towards her. She started to
back away, then realized she was headed for a wall and simply stepped around
him, brushing him off when he tried to grab her. When she was what she
considered to be a safe distance away, she turned to face him once more.
"I don’t want you near me anymore," Willow told him, and he could see she
was near tears. The sight, coupled with the knowledge that he was losing
her, nearly sent him to his knees, but he didn’t want to show it. He didn’t
want her to see him break down.
"So that’s it? You think I fit your personal description of a bad guy, so
it’s over? Well, guess what, little girl. Angel’s not so nice, either.
Remember my hand? He’s the one who cut it off."
"Then I imagine that you probably deserved it. Cordelia told me about the
scroll, and how it was the only way to help her. So Angel got it back the
only way he knew how. Your hand may have been a casualty in that, but you
have it back now."
"How can you say that? How can you say that I deserved to have my hand cut
off? I mean, maybe he’s the bad guy in all of this."
"I know Angel."
"You know me, too," Lindsey retorted.
Willow inclined her head slightly, and Lindsey was appalled to see a tear
begin to make its way down her cheek. "I thought I did," she conceded. "I
thought you were good, and I was wrong. But Angel... I know that Angel is
good. I know because I’ve seen him fight evil. And it’s not just the evil
that’s out there, it’s the evil inside himself. He fights it every damn
day. I’ve seen him struggle with it, and I’ve seen him win. And I’m proud
to call him my friend."
"How touching."
"It is to me. I know you helped them once, Lindsey. You went to Angel and
Cordy and Wesley, and you offered them your help in order to stop an
assassin - a woman you had managed to get acquitted - from killing children.
But after it was over, you went back to Wolfram and Hart. Why was that,
Lindsey? Was it for the money? Or was it for the power?"
"It’s a very powerful firm," the lawyer acknowledged, wondering where she
was going with this.
"Extremely so, from what I’ve been able to pull up on the Internet. The
most powerful firm in all of LA. You people just about have absolute
power."
"That’s true."
"Yes, well, ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely’," she quoted, then
shrugged. "I don’t know who said it first. All I know is it’s been said.
And there’s a reason for that, and it’s not just because it sounds clever.
It’s true. I’ve seen it happen before, and I don’t want to stand here and
watch it happen in you. Of course, from what I’ve heard, I’d say it already
applies to you," she said as she reached for her purse. "I have to go now.
I have things to do... So, this is goodbye. Next time we see each other,
we’ll be on opposite sides."
"Willow, don’t go like this," he said as he reached for her, but she just
flinched back again. And suddenly, it hit him like a kick to the gut. She
was standing in front of him, no more than five feet away, but they might as
well have been separated by a chasm the size of the Grand Canyon for all the
emotional distance there was between them. Willow was completely closed off
to him, entirely out of reach.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give it one last try.
"Willow, you don’t want to end it like this. Neither of us do. I love you.
And you love me. You told me you love me, and you wouldn’t say that
unless you mean it. I know that, and you know it, too. Do you really want
to give that up? Do you really want to just walk away like this?" he asked
her, his voice finally reflecting just how desperate he was.
"No, I don’t-"
"Then why-"
"But I am," Willow said, finishing the statement he had cut off.
"Why? Just tell me that. Why are you doing this?"
"Because it’s the only thing I can do. It’s the only way I can live with
myself."
"But you love me!"
"You're right, I do. Even after everything I found out today, I love you,"
she conceded. "But I hate what you stand for more." And with that, she
turned and left.
And as he heard the sound of the door being closed behind, Lindsey sank to
the floor, buried his head in his hands, and began to cry.
Part Fifteen
"You asked to see me, sir?" Lilah said as she entered Holland’s office.
"Ahh, yes, Lilah, I did. However, I also asked to see Lindsey. Is he not
here yet?"
"I believe he’s here," Lilah replied, her brow furrowed in thought. "I’m
certain I saw him earlier. Perhaps he’s holed up in his office, working on
his latest case. You know how he gets sometimes when he’s working..." She
trailed off there, knowing that she needed to go no further in her
explanation. Lindsey was known around the office for putting in more time
on his cases than any other lawyer in the firm.
"You’re right," Holland agreed, nodding his head slightly. It had been less
than a week since his victory in the Clemens case, and Lindsey had spent
much of it in his office. However, he was beginning to grow more and more
haggard-looking, and that was starting to worry Holland. He couldn’t have
his best lawyer up and get sick on him, now could he? He needed him in the
courtroom. "We’ll give him a few more minutes, then we’ll go find him."
"And while we’re waiting for him will you give me an idea as to why you
called me in?" Lilah asked cautiously. She was undeniably curious about why
she was summoned, but the fact that Holland had her career - and her life,
in all actuality, in his hands - made her ask rather than demand.
"Yes. Yes, of course. There’s no reason not to give you an idea of what’s
going on. You, unlike Lindsey, were prompt, after all." As he was
speaking, Holland made his way back over to his desk, and he reached into a
drawer and pulled out a manila envelope.
Lilah watched in silence as Holland opened the envelop and shook out several
photographs, and she frowned slightly as he handed them to her. After
glancing at the top photo - a picture of nothing more than a nondescript
warehouse - she looked up at her boss, confusion on her face.
"What is this?"
"Well, my dear counselor, it’s the new home of our friends in Angel
Investigations."
"You found them," Lilah said, smiling triumphantly. Ever since the
explosion at the vampire’s office the spring before, they had been unable to
locate where he and his colleagues were working, and they only knew where
Cordelia was living. "Did you find Angel and Wesley’s homes as well?"
"Oh, we found more than that," Holland replied, sounding rather
self-satisfied. "Not only did we discover that Wesley and Angel both keep
apartments in the office; we also discovered that they have two new allies.
Come now, Lilah. Why don’t we make our way over to Lindsey’s office to
share the good news while you finish looking through those?"
Lilah simply nodded in response, and then she and her boss were off, making
their way through the tangle of hallways towards the office of Lindsey
McDonald. As they did so, Lilah shuffled through the pictures in her hand,
and a few passing colleagues had the odd experience of seeing the lawyer’s
mouth drop open in shock as she came to a particular photograph.
Quickening her pace so that she was almost beside Holland, Lilah pulled the
photograph out of the stack and started to show it to him. "Sir, there’s
really something you should-"
"What in the hell is going on in here?" Holland’s voice rang out loudly,
tinged with both shock and anger as they entered the Lindsey’s office. The
desk had been cleared, and the young lawyer’s things were in a box that sat
on his desk. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"
Lindsey looked up at his angry boss, then shrugged, clearly unconcerned
about the man’s outburst. "What does it look like I’m doing?" he asked
tiredly. His hair was unkept, and it was obvious that he hadn’t shaved in
several days.
"It looks like you’re preparing to go somewhere," Holland replied tightly,
and Lilah could hear the annoyance in his voice. However, that didn’t stop
her from attempting to share her oh-so-important discovery with him once
more.
"Listen, sir, you really should-"
"Can’t you see I’m busy here?" Holland snapped, effectively cutting her off
before turning back to Lindsey. "Just what is going on? You’re not
supposed to be going on vacation."
"Well, I wasn’t, but now I am. I’m taking my two weeks right now. And
look," he continued, holding up an envelope, "my two weeks of vacation
coincides nicely with my two weeks’ notice."
"What?"
"I’m quitting, Mr. Holland. I’m no longer going to be working at Wolfram
and Hart. Don’t worry, I won’t be taking any of your clients with me. I
don’t particularly want them."
"Another attack of conscience, Mr. McDonald?" Holland queried, his voice
cold. "That’s two in less than six months. I don’t think I like that. In
fact, I know I don’t."
"Then it’s a good thing I’m leaving, isn’t it?" Lindsey countered as he
picked up the box of his personal items and brushed by his stunned boss. If
he was lucky, and if he hurried, he might be able to get the hell out of
this place before Holland thought to do anything drastic. So, that on his
mind, Lindsey made his way out of his office.
"Do you want me to call security?" Lilah asked.
"No, that won’t be necessary. I don’t want him killed. I just want him
back."
"But sir, this is the second time-"
"I. Want. Him. Back. He’s the best lawyer we’ve got, and you know it."
"Well, then sir-"
"What is it, Lilah?"
"I think I know how to get him back, sir. And not only that; we’d also be
getting to our friend Angel as well," she told him as she held out the
photograph that had caught her attention earlier.
Holland glanced at the picture of the biggest pain in their collective asses
- Angel - and the as yet unknown redhead, then raised his gaze back to his
employee. "And just how do you plan to do that?"
Lilah smiled as she tapped her fingernail against the girl’s face. "Why,
through her, of course."
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
"You know, I think something’s going on with Willow," Angel said to the room
at large. Over the past few days, the redhead had been subdued and
withdrawn, and he was beginning to worry about his young friend.
"Why whatever tipped you off?" Cordelia asked, her voice more than mildly
sarcastic. "Was it the general moping around she’s been engaging in, or the
complete lack of focus?"
"Cordelia..." the vampire growled warningly.
"What? It’s exactly how she’s been acting, and you know it. And I’m
worried about her. Concern just brings out the bitch in me, okay?"
"Then you must be worried all the time," Gunn cracked, earning himself an
icy glare from the struggling actress.
"This is serious," she told him. "Something’s wrong with Willow, and I
don’t know what it is."
"Maybe it’s this mystery guy she’s all hung up on," Gunn suggested. "If
she’s all hot and bothered over him, that could be why she’s all out of
focus, you know."
"But it doesn’t explain the moping," the brunette countered. Her nose
wrinkled daintily when another thought occurred to her. "Oh, no. You don’t
think she had a fight with him, do you?"
"That would explain it," Angel said quietly, mentally cursing this unknown
guy for hurting Willow. Well, if that was the problem, anyway. If it
wasn’t, he’d take back all the swear words he was thinking later.
"And she’ really fell for this guy, too," Cordelia complained. "I mean, if
that’s the case, and Mr. Wonderful turned out to be Just Another Bastard,
that just sucks. Think about it. First there was Oz, then there was Tara,
and now this guy."
"Maybe someone should call her," Gunn said, looking over at Angel. "You
know, see if she’s okay."
"Not me," Angel said.
"You’re the boss."
"Also a guy. If this guy screwed her over, she’s probably not feeling too
kindly towards the male gender as a whole."
"Fine. I’ll do it," Cordelia said with a sigh before the guys could debate
any further. She picked up the phone and dialed, turning to give the guys
one last glare as she did so. "Wimps."
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Willow heard the phone ringing as she struggled to hold her groceries and
unlock her door at the same time, and she cursed softly as she dropped her
key. She could hear the phone continue to ring as she gave up her
admittedly poorly thought out attempt to do two things at once and set her
bags down, before picking up her key and finally managing to unlock her
door.
The machine was already on as she opened the door, and Willow quickly picked
up her grocery bags and carried them in, dropping them just inside the door
before grabbing her key from the lock and shutting her door. She
practically ran to the phone at that point, but, by the time she reached it,
the caller had already finished leaving their message and hung up the phone.
Sighing, the redhead hit the button to replay the message, and she smiled
slightly as Cordelia’s voice perkily asked her to call back so that they
could set up a date for some ‘girl time.’
The phone was actually in Willow’s hand, and she had even dialed the first
few digits of Cordelia’s cell phone number, when someone grabbed her from
behind, their arm crossing tightly over her throat as they dragged her to
the door. Willow gasped for air and kicked behind her, actually managing to
connect with the person’s shin. Her attacker released her momentarily, and
she lunged for the door, trying to get away. She didn’t get far, however.
Her attacker grab her foot and pulled, knocking her off balance and causing
her to go head-first into the shut door.
Willow moaned as she struggled to her knees, trying to stay conscious, even
though her head now hurt terribly and everything was spinning. As she tried
to stagger to her feet, a shadow rose over her, and the person swung
something hard. Willow didn’t even have time to brace herself for the
impact. As the bar stool her attacker had picked as their weapon of choice
was slammed down on her, she screamed, but no one but her attacker was
around to hear her.
Then, everything went black.
Part Sixteen
Lindsey entered his apartment slowly, carrying the box of his things. He
couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. He’d actually quit his job at
Wolfram and Hart.
"If only I’d done this six months ago," he murmured as he set the box down
on his coffee table.
He’d actually considered leaving the firm six months ago, when the whole
Vanessa Brewer debacle had happened, and he’d ended up helping Angel and his
crew of do-gooders. He’d been prepared to leave then. He’d betrayed the
firm by helping Angel get his hands on a bunch of the firm’s encrypted
computer disks, then he’d helped thwart Vanessa’s latest assignment - the
assassination of those blind kids. When he’d done it, Lindsey had known
very well that it could have been the last thing he ever did. The firm
could have come after him and killed him for that betrayal.
But they hadn’t.
No, instead of killing him, they had offered him something he just hadn’t
been able to resist: power. The promotion to junior partner was something
he’d been working towards for what seemed like forever, and he had finally
gotten it. He couldn’t just pass it up.
Of course, now he wished he had.
He could have walked out of there then, just left that damn office, maybe
started his own law office or something, and Angel and his friends wouldn’t
have been able to turn Willow against him. They wouldn’t have had reason
to. But that wasn’t what happened. He’d stayed. He’d stayed, and he’d
enjoyed that power, and he’d lost Willow because of it, because her
conscience wouldn’t allow her to be with someone like him.
Someone evil.
"You’re not evil, damn it," Lindsey muttered to himself, though without much
conviction. He’d seem the pain and disdain in the redhead’s eyes when she
had walked out on him. He’d hurt her. He’d disappointed her. And that
made him feel evil.
Sighing, Lindsey made his way into his bathroom, where he turned on the sink
and splashed water on his face. Since Willow had broken up with him, he
hadn’t slept much, and his unshaven face appeared haggard and exhausted,
which he thought was fitting, considering that was also how he felt. He’d
tortured himself with the what ifs... What if he had never asked her out?
What if he had told her from the start? What if he had left the firm when
he had the chance? He’d bombarded himself with so many scenarios he’d
nearly driven himself crazy.
He’d known it was pointless to play the ‘what if’ game, but he hadn’t been
able to help it. Not that it mattered anyway. All that really mattered was
the way things had really went.
All that mattered was that he’d lost Willow.
"Damn, you look awful, McDonald," Lindsey told himself as he gazed at his
image in the mirror. "And what for? It’s not like torturing yourself is
going to change a damn thing. She’ll still be gone."
Groaning softly, Lindsey pushed himself away from the sink, then made his
way into the kitchen. He jerked open the refrigerator door, grumbling to
himself when he saw the contents. No beer. Damn it, he’d wanted to get
drunk. Again. He did have to celebrate his lack of a job, didn’t he? Just
like he’d celebrated the decimation of his love life every night for the
past week. Sighing, Lindsey shut the fridge, but not before grabbing a can
of soda. He figured a non-alcoholic beverage was better than nothing at
all.
Nothing at all. That’s precisely what he had now, wasn’t it?
"Damn, I’m pathetic," he grunted as he slowly made his way out of the
kitchen and into the living room. "God, I have to snap out of this. It’s
over, man. She’s working for Angel, the lucky bastard. And now that I’ve
quit the firm, she’ll never have to see me again. It’s for the best," he
told himself, not sure if he was stating a fact or trying to convince
himself of the truth of the statement.
Lindsey shook his head tiredly as he walked over to his couch and flopped
down unceremoniously. He’d reached for the remote, prepared to spend the
rest of the night watching television, when he noticed the light on his
answering machine blinking, indicating that he had a message. Lindsey
cursed as he stood up and went over to the machine. It was an older model,
one of those that still used those little tapes. He’d been meaning to get
rid of it for awhile now and completely switch over to voice mail, but he’d
never gotten around to it.
Sighing, he reached out and pushed the playback button, then waited for the
message to play.
"You didn’t think we’d let you get away that easily, did you, Lindsey?"
Lilah’s sly voice asked. "You’re the best we’ve got. But you’ve still got
a weakness. We found that weakness, my dear. And now we have her. If you
want her back, you’ll just have to come and get her, won’t you?"
A scuffle could be heard then, then a painfully familiar voice made its way
to his ears. "Don’t do it, Lindsey. Whatever they want, don’t do-"
Willow’s voice was cut off at that point, and Lilah spoke once more.
"Well, we’ve got your girl, McDonald. The question is, what are you willing
to do to get her back?" Lilah asked before adding, "It’ll be great to have
you back."
Lindsey stumbled back in shock as the message ended, his eyes glued to the
machine, staring at it as if it were some kind of a monster.
Willow. Wolfram and Hart had Willow.
What the hell was he going to do now?
Nearly shaking in a combination of fear and rage, Lindsey reached out and
hit the rewind button, then took the tape out of the machine, knowing he
needed it for proof. Quickly, he pulled something out of the box of things
he’d brought home with him, then practically ran out the door, headed
somewhere he’d never thought he’d be going.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Angel sighed as he sat at his desk, staring at his phone. Gunn and Wesley
were out on a case - a minor and completely un-supernatural case involving a
missing cat - so he was alone for the night. Alone and waiting for
Cordelia’s call, that is. Willow had never called the brunette back that
evening, and the struggling actress was worried about her friend. If he was
pressed on the subject, the vampire had to admit that he was worried about
her, too. The redhead just hadn’t been herself over the past few days.
She’d been quiet and preoccupied, not at all like the cheerful and sweet
Willow he had come to know and love. Plus, it wasn’t like Willow not to
return someone’s phone call. Well, two someone’s phone calls, if the truth
be known. Angel had actually called the young witch about an hour earlier,
and she had never called him back, either. Therefore, something had to be
wrong. He just didn’t know what it was.
"Come on, Cordelia. Just call me, damn it," the vampire muttered, glaring
at the phone. She’d told him she was going to stop by the grocery store to
get a few things she needed before heading over to Willow’s to check on the
redhead, and she’d promised to call and let him know what was going on.
Granted, it had been less than half an hour since she had left, but Angel
was feeling impatient. He had half a mind to just go over to Willow’s
apartment himself, but Cordy had warned him not to, telling him that if the
redhead’s mood was due to this mystery guy she had been seeing, then the
company of a male was probably not what Willow wanted right now.
Angel spun his chair in a slow circle as he gazed up at the ceiling, then
instantly came alert when the door to the office was shoved open.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Lindsey flinched at the near-growl in the vampire’s voice, but decided that
what he was here for was more than worth risking Angel’s wrath. "Look, I
know I’m not exactly the person you want to see, well, ever again, but-"
"Get. Out."
"No way. Not until you’ve heard what I have to say. Do you have any idea
how long it took me to find this place? Some PI firm you’ve got here... you
need a damn investigator just to find it..."
"Ever think that maybe there’s a reason for that?" Angel growled. "Keeps
out people like you. Now, are you going to leave, or do I get the pleasure
of stomping your ass?"
"I need help."
"I don’t care."
"Maybe you should," Lindsey replied, his eyes darkening furiously. "Is this
how you treat everyone who comes to you?"
"Not everyone. Just the ones who deserve it."
"And who are you to judge? You used to be the scourge of Europe. You even
took in the Slayer who tried to murder you. What makes me so much worse?"
Lindsey asked, and Angel blinked, at a loss as to how to respond. Taking
advantage of the vampire’s silence, the lawyer plowed on. "Someone...
someone I care about is missing. I need your help getting her back."
"Maybe she came to her senses and ran as far away from you as she could
get," Angel returned sarcastically.
"Will you just listen for a moment? This is serious!"
"Why? Why should I listen to you? Why should I help you after all you’ve
done? There are dozens of good people out there who need my help. Why
should I take time out to help you find your little girlfriend?"
Lindsey glared at Angel for a moment before pulling out his answering
machine tape and shoving it into the micro-cassette player he’d brought with
him. He quickly pressed play, and he watched in silence as recognition came
to Angel’s face. The vampire was clearly stunned. It was then, with the
familiar voice sounding in the room, that Lindsey answered Angel’s question.
"Because she’s Willow."
Part Seventeen
"Willow," Angel echoed dumbly, his eyes glued to the micro-cassette player
in Lindsey’s hand. There was no doubt in the vampire’s mind that it had
been Willow’s terrified voice that McDonald had played for him. The
question was... why? "Why would they take her?"
"To get back at me," Lindsey tossed out. "And probably you, too. Kill two
birds with one stone and all that."
"But why?"
"I already told-"
"Why the hell would they think taking her would get at you?"
"My God," the lawyer murmured, staring at the vampire in disbelief. "You
really don’t know, do you? I thought... I thought that after she found out,
that she’d tell you."
"Tell me what?" Angel asked, thoroughly confused and more than a little
pissed off.
"She was involved with me," Lindsey told him, and Angel’s face darkened with
rage.
"That’s a load of crap, and you know it, you bastard! This is a trap, isn’t
it? You come to me, all whining and in need of help, I give in, and - boom!
- you stake me in the back. And I mean that literally."
"This is not a trap, you damn idiot! This is for real!"
"Please, there is no way someone like Willow would end up with scum like
you."
"She didn’t know!" Lindsey shouted, glaring daggers at the vampire. "She
didn’t know who I was... Or, she knew who I was, but she didn’t know what it
meant. It seems *someone* forgot to tell their employee about the
connection between Wolfram and Hart and Angel Investigations," he told
Angel, his voice condescending.
"She... she knew..." Angel began to protest weakly.
"As of less than a week ago."
Both men turned at the unexpected female voice to find Cordelia standing a
few feet behind Lindsey, a look of concern on her face.
"What did you say?" Angel asked the brunette.
"She didn’t find out about the whole ‘Lindsey is a jackass’ thing until
about a week ago," Cordelia told him.
"You’re the one who told her," the lawyer accused, his eyes darkening in
anger. "You’re the one who convinced her to leave me."
"Hold on just a damn minute, Mr. Evil Lawyer Guy," Cordelia said, her voice
annoyed. "You’re the one who pushed her away. I just told her the truth
about what you did. If she left you because of that, well, you’ve only got
yourself to blame, you know." With that, the brunette turned her attention
to the vampire that had been watching the exchange between his employee and
his current worst enemy with interest.
"I went to her apartment, and she wasn’t there," Cordelia told her boss,
ignoring the ‘well, duh’ look the statement received from Lindsey. "The...
the place was kind of messed up. Not really trashed... but not Willow-neat
either. And... and I found this," she said as she held out a slip of paper.
Angel quickly stepped forward to take it, and he growled softly before
reading it out loud. "'We’ve got your girl, vampire. You want her back?
Come and get her.'"
"Lilah never was the creative type," Lindsey muttered, earning a glare from
both Angel and Cordelia.
"You think this is her?" Cordelia asked.
"She’s the one who left the message on my machine," Lindsey told her.
"She’s probably not the person who grabbed Willow, but I’m willing to bet
she orchestrated the whole thing, including that little note you’ve got
there."
"Message on your machine?" the young woman said questioningly, and Lindsey
realized that she must not have been there yet when he had played it.
"They didn’t just take her in order to get at Angel. I’m a target, too."
"And why would that be?" Cordy asked. "You are their Boy Wonder."
"Not anymore. I quit. I... I didn’t know they’d go after Willow. I
mean... she left me about a week ago, as soon as she found out just who I
was and what I’d done in the past. I’d never thought..."
"Save it," Angel ground out. "I don’t want to hear your little pity party,
okay? It’s your fault they took her."
"I’m not the one that note’s for, *vampire*. It’s not just me; it’s you,
too."
"Yeah, and what the hell are we going to do about it? Stand here posturing
like a couple of idiots? See who has the bigger pair?" Cordelia asked,
clearly pissed off. "You know, ‘cause I don’t know about you two jackasses,
but all I really want to do is get Willow back. After that, you’re more
than welcome to tear each other to shreds. I don’t really care."
"You’re right," Lindsey said with a sigh.
"Damn straight, I’m right. What about?"
"Getting Willow back is all that matters. We... we need a plan."
"And what makes you think I’m going to trust you to work with us?" Angel
asked. "How do I know you won’t just take us to Willow and throw us all to
the wolves, Willow included?"
"Because I love her."
"Aw, how sweet. I almost believed it. Maybe you could try it again. With
a tear in your eye this time."
"Stop it!" Cordelia's shout was completely furious and loud enough to stun
them both. When the brunette turned on Angel, the vampire actually took a
step back when he saw the angry expression on her face. "You two are acting
like complete jerks! I mean, Angel, here you are, more concerned with
attacking Lindsey than getting Willow back! And you!" she continued,
turning to face Lindsey.
"What?"
The secretary thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I don’t like you, and
Lord knows I don’t trust you. I think you’re a dirty, rotten, slimebag.
But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you’re our inside
guy."
"I don’t work-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got that. But you still know how these jerks think.
And we need all the help we can get."
"Cordelia..." Angel began, a slight whine in his voice. He immediately
snapped his mouth shut when the brunette whirled on him, her eyes flashing.
"Don’t even start. In case you’ve forgotten, Willow is in danger here. It
doesn’t matter why it happened, or how much you hate each other, or even
whose fault it is. I mean, it seems to me that Wolfram and Hart is pissed
off at both of you, and they’re using Willow to get at you, which makes it
both your faults. Therefore, I’d suggest you both stop being all growly at
each other until we get her back. Do I make myself clear?"
Both the lawyer and the vampire muttered something in response, but it was
completely unintelligible, causing Cordelia to get even more annoyed, if
that was possible.
"I didn’t hear you," she told them. "Now, do I have to repeat myself, or-"
"We’re clear," Angel replied a bit desperately. He’d never seen his
secretary so angry, and he didn’t want to do anything to further incur her
wrath.
Cordelia turned to face the other man. "Lindsey."
"I’m clear."
"Good. Now that we’ve got that settled, why don’t you two make nice... or
make some plans. I don’t really care which. Just, no bloodshed, okay?
Save that for the bastards who took Willow," the brunette said as she made
her way into her office.
"Where the hell do you think you’re going?" Angel asked incredulously. He
couldn’t believe she’d go on a tirade like that, then just walk out.
"I’m going to my office," Cordelia said slowly, as if speaking to a toddler.
At Angel’s annoyed glare, she shrugged and began speaking normally again.
"I’m calling Wesley and Gunn and telling them to get their butts down here
to help." At this point, she held up her hand as if to stave off questions
and protests. Of course, none were forthcoming. "I know, I know, they’re
on a case. But I think Willow’s like takes precedence over a stupid *cat*!"
With that, she walked into her office, shutting her door behind her and
leaving the two enemies alone.
After a moment, Lindsey broke the silence. "Interesting employees you have
here."
"You have no idea."
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Lilah smiled as she paced the length of the room, her eyes on the young
woman tied to the chair. "I wouldn’t have had them hit you so hard if you
hadn’t tried to warn Lindsey away, you know," she told the redhead.
"And your point would be what? That it’s my fault your henchmen knocked me
unconscious?" Willow retorted.
"Well, if you want to put it that way-"
"Screw you," the redhead tossed out, cutting off the female lawyer’s
statement. She smirked when Lilah turned to her, incensed.
"Why you little-" she began, then stopped herself. "It would serve you well
to remember who has the power here."
"And it would serve you well to remember just how many times Angel has
screwed up your plans. He’ll figure out that you took me, and he’ll be
here."
"How sweet... Complete trust in a vampire. And you’re right. He probably
knows who has you. And if he doesn’t, he’ll know soon enough. Maybe we
want him to know who has you. You ever think of that?"
"You ever think of how many times he’s botched up your plans?" the redhead
returned, causing Lilah to scowl.
"He won’t this time, because he won’t be able to find you. And if he does,
well then, we’ll just have to kill him."
"Well, golly, why didn’t you think of doing that before?"
"You’re friend is going to die, little girl. One way or another. Either
he’ll kill himself from the guilt of failing you, or Wolfram and Hart will
kill him ourselves. And Lindsey will come back to the firm. As for you, my
dear," Lilah continued as she leaned in, speaking directly into Willow’s
face, "well, I guess we’ll just let Lindsey decide what to do with you."
"Angel’s going to find you, and he’s going to kill you," the redhead
replied, her calm voice hiding how scared she really was. Not just scared
for herself, but for Angel, Lindsey, and the others as well.
"Oh, he is, is he?" Lilah asked, her voice sly. "I didn’t think he was in
the practice of killing humans. At least, not anymore."
"For you, I think he’d make an exception."
Part Eighteen
"So, what do we do now?" Gunn asked as he surveyed the room. He and Wesley
had come as soon as they’d gotten Cordelia’s call, and he had to admit that
he had been more than a little surprised - stunned speechless was probably a
more proper term for his reaction - when told that Lindsey McDonald was
Willow’s mystery man, but he was willing to put the past behind him (at
least for now) in order to get the redhead back. He just hoped that Lindsey
and Angel felt the same way. Considering the way the two men - well, one
man and vampire - were glaring at each other, he wasn’t entirely sure they
did.
"I can’t believe Willow would involve herself with scum like you," Angel
said with a shake of his head.
"Yeah, well, stranger things have happened," Lindsey replied. "I mean, she
does work for a vampire." Before Angel could respond to this, however, the
lawyer continued, turning to face Gunn as he spoke. "First, we have to find
out where they may have taken her. The firm has several places around the
city where... troublesome people are sometimes taken."
"Well, that’s a pleasant thought," Cordelia muttered.
"Well, be that as it may," Wesley spoke up, completely ignoring the
brunette’s comment, "we can certainly rule out any place that you know
about."
"Not necessarily," Lindsey interrupted before the Englishman could say
anything more. "They expect *you people* to try and find her. But me?
They would never expect me to come running to you guys for help. They
expect *me* to come running to them and take my job back so I can get her
back."
"Then why don’t you just do that?" Cordelia asked. "It seems like it would
be a hell of a lot easier than trying to find her."
"Because then they would win. And they would know that whenever I stepped
out of line again, which I most assuredly would, considering the fact that
I’d probably just quit again once Willow was safe, well, they would know
that all they had to do to get to me is threaten Willow. I don’t want that
for her, and I know you don’t either. Which means that all we can do is
fight them and win. It’s really the only option."
"Fine. I get that now. I don’t like it - and I really don’t like the idea
of working with you at all - but I get it," Cordelia said with a sigh. "So
what do we do? Just check out all these places Wolfram and Hart keeps for
the random torture of people they don’t like until we find Willow?"
"That would take too long," Angel cut in with a shake of his head. He hated
the idea of working alongside Lindsey McDonald - he’d almost rather go back
to hell - but if it meant getting Willow back, he would do it.
"We could split up," Gunn pointed out. "There are five of us."
"Not a good idea," Angel replied. "They’ve probably got people - or
creatures - guarding her, which means none of us would probably be able to
get her back on our own. And I know that if I found her, I wouldn’t be able
to leave her with those bastards for another second, even if it was just to
get you guys."
"Which means what? We go from place to place as a big, conspicuous group
until we finally find her? No, I don’t think so. That would take too damn
long," Cordelia retorted.
"My God," Lindsey muttered as he rubbed his hands over his temples. "With
all this arguing that goes on, it’s a wonder you people ever get anything
done."
"Well, I don’t hear you coming up with anything," Cordelia sniped. Good
Lord, how she hated this man. It was because of his law firm that she had
ended up in a continuous vision last spring, and, if Lindsey had succeeded
in burning that damn scroll like he wanted to, she would probably still be
at the hospital, heavily sedated and in great pain. Of course, if Willow
had fallen for him - and given her behavior since the time of their
break-up, she apparently had - then there had to be some redeeming qualities
in him. She just had no clue what they were.
"I’m thinking," Lindsey snapped. "Look, first we’ve got to get all the
facts... What do we know?"
"Well, we know that the slimebags you work for have taken Willow and are
probably doing horrible things to her," Gunn replied.
"Slimebags I *worked* for," Lindsey corrected in a cold voice. "I’m no
longer employed by them. And Willow’s probably safe for now. They want me
back, which means that they’ll take fairly good care of her, at least until
they learn I’m not coming back, and by then, we’ll already have Willow safe
and sound. Now, since you people don’t seem to be thinking, here’s what we
know: Wolfram and Hart has Willow, and the odds are very strong that Lilah
is with her." He paused then, and the others nodded in acceptance of his
statement. When Wesley and Gunn had arrived, Lindsey had played the tape
from his answering machine for them, so they all had heard both Willow and
Lilah on the tape.
"So we know the bitch queen is with Willow," Gunn said, his voice annoyed.
"So what?"
"So... it narrows down the possible places that Willow would be. Lilah’s
not one for creepy crawlies, and she can’t stand getting dirty."
"She doesn’t like dirt, but hey, defending slimy demons makes for a great
time," Cordelia said with snort.
Angel ignored his secretary’s statement, instead focusing on Lindsey. "What
else?"
"Lilah is really big on irony. Or, what she considers to be irony, anyway."
"And what does that mean to you?"
"Well, what could be more ironic than the people of Angel Investigations
running around like chickens with their heads cut off looking for Willow..."
"When she’s really right in front of us," Angel finished, nodding. "I see
what you mean."
"I don’t," Cordelia said. "What are you guys talking about? If she was
right in front of us, wouldn’t we see her?"
"Not necessarily," Lindsey said with a chuckle, wondering if Cordelia was
always this literal-minded.
"I think what Lindsey is saying is that Willow is being held somewhere that
we know, on our turf, in a way," Wesley said thoughtfully.
"But where? I mean, our turf is basically here, my apartment, and Will’s
apartment. And trust me, she’s not at her place. And Dennis... well, he
doesn’t take to kindly to strangers, so I doubt she’s at my place, either."
"Is Dennis your dog or something?" Lindsey asked, curious.
"He’s my ghost."
"Okay," the lawyer said slowly, surprised by the answer.
"So that’s our turf, Lindsey, and she’s not there. All we’ve got is a
couple of apartments and this warehouse-turned-office..."
"Oh, God," Lindsey murmured.
"What? What is it?" Wesley asked, alarmed.
"Office," the man muttered to himself. "I should have known."
"And for the people that this makes no sense to, you should have known
what?" Cordelia prompted, and Lindsey looked over at her.
"I think I know where they’re keeping Willow."
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
"They’ll never find you," Lilah taunted as she paced the floor, not even
noticing the creaking as she walked. Willow did, however, and her eyes
flicked to the floor, praying it would hold. Not that she cared about
Lilah’s safety or anything - the bitch could die for all she cared - but the
floor beneath Lilah’s feet also happened to be underneath her as well.
"They’d never think to look for you *here*," the woman continued as she
glanced around her. Willow cringed at the laugh that came from the woman.
It was definitely shades of Cruella Deville.
"They’ll find me," the redhead insisted coldly. "And when they do, you’re
going to regret ever screwing around with Angel."
"Oh, please. If he were going to find you, he would be here already. This
place does belong to him, doesn’t it? Or, at the very least, it used to,"
the woman said as she looked around at the charred remains of the original
office of Angel Investigations. Smiling at Willow, she continued in a
conspiratorial voice. "You know, just between you and me, it could really
use some work."
"Go to hell."
"My, my, my. You really do have some spunk. That bitchy little brunette -
Cordelia or whatever - would probably be crying like a baby if she was in
this situation."
"Oh, really?" Willow retorted with a snort. This woman obviously had never
been around Cordy. "Shows how much you know. Cordelia could chew you up
and spit you out, you stupid bitch."
Willow had barely finished speaking when Lilah slapped her, nearly knocking
both the redhead and the chair to which she was bound to the floor with the
force of the blow. Damn, this lady lawyer was tougher than she looked. Of
course, Willow wasn’t about to give the other woman the satisfaction of
knowing she was in pain.
"You need to learn to watch your mouth, little girl," Lilah warned. "Or
else when they call me to tell me that Lindsey’s come back into the fold,
well, you won’t be around to save anymore."
"Oh, death threats now, is it? I don’t think you’ve got the balls to do
it," Willow challenged, her eyes on something just outside Lilah’s line of
vision. She could have sworn she’d just seen... No, no. Don’t look. If
she looked, Lilah might look over there, then everything would be screwed.
"Oh, really, little girl? Well, let’s just see about that?" the woman
replied, pulling out a wicked-looking knife and reaching for Willow. Before
she could do anything, though, she was quite rudely interrupting by someone
shoving her to the ground. It was then, while he was standing over her
face-down form, that he spoke.
"You get your hands off of her."
Part Nineteen
Angel.
It was the only thing on Lilah’s mind at the moment, the only thing that the
female lawyer could think for what seemed to be an incredibly long moment
that was frozen in time. Nothing else mattered but the demon-faced vampire
who stood over her, his golden eyes gleaming.
Angel.
Angel was here. He had found Willow. And the vampire looked incredibly
pissed off, his eyes glinting with rage. He looked violent and dangerous
and...
Almost like he was ready to kill her.
That particular revelation was more than enough to snap the woman out of her
frozen silence, and she scrambled away from him, shaking as he simply
stepped closer, still looming over her. The fact that she was still on the
floor and he was standing made him seem all the larger and more threatening.
"Where the hell are you stupid demons?!?" she screamed, trying to hide the
shaking in her voice, trying to make herself sound angry and annoyed rather
than terrified. "Get your asses in here! You’re supposed to be protecting
me!" She forced herself to glare up at Angel then, attempting to appear
brave and in control, even though she felt far from it. She’d dealt with
the vampire before, that was for sure, but she’d never seen him with this
dangerous glint in his eye. She was definitely going to have these stupid
demons killed for failing to warn her after this was all over.
"You shouldn’t have come here, vampire," she told Angel, her gaze still
firmly on him as an idea came to her. She could hear the sounds of her
‘bodyguards’ coming to her rescue, and that, coupled with her little plan,
gave her enough confidence to smirk up at her attacker. "Of course, I
always did want to be there when you got killed, so I guess I should be
happy you’re here," she purred a split second before flinging the knife she
held up at him, aiming for his face.
Angel ducked the flying weapon, snarling in anger as it whizzed by his ear.
He heard a sickening squish as the knife lodged itself in the shoulder of
one of Lilah’s would-be protectors, and he grinned savagely as he reached
down and yanked the female lawyer and all around bitch up off the ground by
her hair.
"Don’t be so sure that I’ll be the one to die," he hissed at her before
tossing her behind him. She ran right into the demon she had just
accidentally injured, and the pair went tumbling to the ground.
Angel was on his knees beside Willow in an instant, and he gently put his
hand to the cheek Lilah had slapped, wincing at the red mark the woman had
left on his friend. "You okay, Little One?" he asked.
"Yeah, I’m fine," Willow told him with a nod, but Angel could tell she was
holding back tears, though he wasn’t sure if they were tears of pain, fear,
or maybe even relief at being found. "I really want to get the hell out of
here, though. This place isn’t safe."
"I know that. There are demons-"
"No, Angel. I mean it isn’t safe. The floor... I don’t know how long it
will hold."
Angel’s eyes widened as he realized just what it was Willow was getting at,
and the vampire swiftly went to work on the ropes that bound the girl, only
to be stopped by a noise behind him. He lashed out quickly with his right
arm, and he winced as his fist met the hard, scaly skin of one of the demons
that had been hired by Wolfram and Hart to protect Lilah and hold Willow
hostage.
Knowing he had bought himself only a few seconds with that hit - not nearly
enough to grab the redhead and get the hell out of there - the ensouled
vampire stood, immediately getting into a fighting stance. He knew that he
was going to have to battle his way out of this charred heap, and he could
only hope and pray (and wish that Whomever was up there would listen to the
prayer of a vampire) that he would be able to get Willow out of there before
it all came tumbling down around them.
Lilah struggled to get up, grimacing as she disentangle herself from the
disgusting, scaly, *bleeding* demon she had been thrown into. Her
expression darkened even more when she realized that she had some of the
demon’s green blood on her suit. Damn it, she had just had this thing
cleaned, and now it was probably ruined. Frowning as she finally managed to
get to her feet, she whirled around to face Angel, who was now in an all-out
fight with the other demon.
"Weren’t there supposed to be four of you?" she shouted, furious that her
protectors were apparently screwing up big time.
Without pausing in his fighting, Angel smiled ferally as he hear the woman’s
comment. Did the stupid bitch really think he’d come alone? Wesley, Gunn,
Lindsey, and Cordelia had been the ones that had ambushed the four demons
when they had arrived, allowing the vampire time to get into the building
undetected.
As Angel fought the demon, trying to figure out the quickest way to
incapacitate this thing so that he could grab Willow and make his escape,
Lilah made a move for the redhead, only to be stopped when the
already-injured demon that was making its way to its behind her suddenly
pitched forward, crashing to the floor with Lilah pinned underneath it.
Lilah was unable to suppress a scream as the four hundred pound creature
came toppling down on top of her, and her eyes widened as she felt the floor
shake beneath her. Maybe... maybe this place wasn’t as sturdy as she had
thought it was. Moving gracelessly in her fear, she scrambled out from
underneath the demon, her mouth falling open in shock as she saw what had
caused the demon to collapse: the bolt from a crossbow was deeply imbedded
in the creature’s back.
The demon was dead.
"What? You didn’t think we’d let Angel do this all by himself, did you?"
Gunn asked, and Lilah looked up to find the young man sneering at her. She
quickly looked over to the chair where Willow was tied, and rage built
inside her when she saw Cordelia untying the redhead. No. This could not
be happening. This had been her idea. And what would Holland do to her if
the plan - her plan - failed?
That was something she didn’t want to think about.
Gunn grinned as he saw the look of panic on the woman’s face. Maybe she was
finally figuring out just how badly she’d screwed up by going after Willow.
Three of her demons were either dead or very nearly so - two of them
courtesy of Lindsey and Wesley - and the fourth was in a fight to the death
with Angel. Not very good odds for the lady lawyer, that was for sure.
"Willow, are you okay?" Cordelia asked as she worked on the ropes holding
her friend. She bit her lip as she sliced through the bindings, trying not
to cut the redhead.
"Yeah, I’m fine," Willow managed. "I just want to get out of here before
this places falls down. The structural damage... this place can’t handle
what happening here. It should have been demolished a long time ago." The
redhead let out a little hiss of pain as Cordelia accidentally sliced her
skin, and the brunette winced in sympathy.
"I’m sorry."
"It’s okay. I’ve had worse," the witch replied, then asked the question she
was dying to have answered. "How did you guys find me-"
"There," the secretary muttered as the last of the ropes fell away. "Come
on, let’s get you out of- Ow!"
Cordelia glared at the woman that had knocked her down. She contemplated
really going after her, but then decided that it wasn’t worth it. The
brunette knew that Willow was probably right about how unstable the place
was, and she wanted to get the hell out of there in one piece. Even so, she
couldn’t resist the well-placed punch that knocked Lilah on her ass.
"You know," she said as she stood, "I heard what you said about me. And you
know what? A bitch like you could never have me bawling like a baby, ‘cause
I know that, at the end of the day, you’re going to be the one getting your
ass kicked."
And with that, she and Gunn grabbed hold of Willow, hauling the redhead up.
Just as they were about to begin the process of getting her out of there,
however, a loud noise caught the attention of all of them.
Quickly they turned to find the source of the noise, and Willow gasped.
Angel had practically thrown the demon across the room...
Right into one of the few remaining stable support beams.
It gave way immediately, and Cordelia screamed as a hunk of the ceiling came
down with it. The impact of the demon, the support, and the debris made the
floor shake, and the group looked at each other with wide eyes.
"We’ve got to get out of here. Now!" Angel shouted as he ran toward them.
The vampire grabbed Willow and picked her up, and Gunn pulled Cordelia
behind him, nearly dragging the girl in his haste to get out of the
crumbling building.
They barely made it out.
The group had barely made it outside of the building - in fact, they were
less than halfway across the street - when the building completely collapsed
in on itself, with both Lilah and the last remaining demon still inside.
Not even noticing that he was in the middle of the street, Angel dropped to
his knees, taking Willow with him, and pulled the redhead into his arms,
where she finally began to cry, sobbing in both suppressed fear and relief.
Lindsey stood just a few feet away, a bit of the blood of the demon he had
killed staining his shirt, and watched the scene unfold. And it was as he
stood there, watching Willow being taken care of by someone that cared about
her - someone that would do anything to ensure her safety - that he came to
a decision. And it was because of that decision that he did the hardest
thing he had ever done in his life.
He turned and walked away.
Part Twenty
Lindsey walked into his apartment, trying to ignore the feeling of
loneliness that swept over him upon walking into the empty place. He didn’t
know why the place suddenly felt so lonely; he had lived alone since
college, and he had never felt this way before. He had no idea why he did
now...
And why was he trying to kid himself? Wasn’t self-delusion what had gotten
him into this whole mess in the first place? Back when he’d first found out
the truth about Wolfram and Hart, he had tried to ignore it at first, and
then he had convinced himself that it didn’t really matter, that what
Wolfram and Hart was doing wasn’t that big a deal in the grand scheme of
things. And then he had allowed himself to get deeper and deeper into it...
And now he was free.
It had been two weeks since he had left Wolfram and Hart, two weeks since he
had taken his life back.
Two weeks since he had last seen Willow.
Lindsey never really expected to see her again. He was gone from her life
for good, and it was all for the better, he had told himself. Better for
her, anyway. She probably hated him. He was part of the reason she had
been taken, after all. Even though she worked for Angel, Lilah probably
would have never thought to take Willow if the redhead hadn’t once been
involved with him. He imagined she hated him for that. Hell, she probably
hated him, period. Willow was probably thrilled that he was out of her life
for good...
"Lindsey."
The voice was unexpected, and for a moment he thought it was just wishful
thinking, or that maybe he was beginning to lose it. Yes, that was it. He
had gone off the deep end, the lights were on but nobody was home, the wheel
was spinning but the hamster was dead...
"Lindsey. Are you going to stand there like an idiot, or are you going to
turn around and face me?"
He spun around slowly then, his eyes immediately focusing on the slender
redhead standing by his window. "You’re really here."
A tiny smile curved Willow’s lips, and it was all he could do not to run to
her. Standing there wearing a light blue sundress that swirled around her
legs, her hair down... she was almost ethereal in her beauty, and he was
afraid that if he went to touch her, she’d disappear.
"Stop looking at me as if I were some sort of a ghost," she told him, not
unkindly. "You of all people should know I didn’t die at Lilah’s hands.
You were there, after all."
"You... you know?"
"Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Did you really think you could
just walk away, and I’d never know you were there? Angel told me."
"He should have left well enough alone."
"He thought I had a right to know."
"And what if I didn’t want you to know?"
Willow smiled faintly, though Lindsey didn’t see how she could be amused by
his belligerence. Why the hell was he behaving this way towards her,
anyway? Oh, yeah. So she would go, get on with her life... and forget
about him.
"I really don’t think Angel particularly cares what you want, Lindsey. Why
did you leave?"
"It was..."
"What? Was it what was best for me?"
"Well, yes, actually..."
"Or was it what was best for you?" Willow continued as if he hadn’t even
started to speak.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Too difficult a question? Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be. I guess
we’ll just have to talk about something else then," the redhead said as she
turned to look out the window. She watched the children playing down below
for a moment, then spoke again. "I, uh, I heard you quit."
"Excuse me?"
"I heard you quit," Willow repeated as she turned back around to look at
him.
"That’s true."
"Why?"
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"That’s the second time you’ve asked that in less than a minute. There are
no trick questions here, Lindsey. They’re actually quite simple. I just
want to know why you quit."
"Well, there really wasn’t anything there for me-"
"The real reason," Willow interrupted, her eyes boring into him. Lindsey
had the distance feeling that she was staring straight into his soul, and it
left him a little off-balance. It also convinced him to tell her the truth.
"Honestly? It was you. After you’d left, after you’d done your own walking
away, I took a good long look in the mirror, and I saw myself as you saw me.
I didn’t like it."
"And just what did you see?" she asked.
"Something bad, something wrong, something evil."
"And you think that’s how I see you?"
"Well, isn’t that why you left?"
"I left because we fought on different sides of the same battle, and there
was no way I could reconcile that with myself. I thought what you were
doing was wrong, I admit that. But... there’s good and evil in all of us,
Lindsey. I’ve seen it in others; I’ve seen it in myself. And it’s scary as
hell to know just what’s inside you. You have to fight the badness inside
of you... I do it, Angel does it, Cordelia does it. We fight it, bury it
deep down inside, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there. The difference
between me and you was that you weren’t fighting it. You sat back and
watched it. Hell, you even helped it. Maybe it was because it didn’t mean
anything to you; nothing you cared about was threatened. No one around you
cared what you did."
"Until you."
Willow laughed, a slightly hollow sound. "You were working for them the
entire time we were dating."
"And it was destroying me. Remember the Clemens’ case? The murderer I got
set free?" he asked, and he could tell Willow knew exactly what he was
talking about. The night she had found him in front of his television set,
drunk and watching wrestling. It was the night they had first made love.
"Before I met you... I wouldn’t have had that kind of reaction. I would
have been patting myself on the back for a job well done, not drowning my
sorrows in alcohol."
"And I changed all of that?"
"Yes, you did."
"Great, I turned you from a heartless bastard into a drunk. I’m so proud."
"Willow..."
"Don’t, Lindsey. Don’t put this all on me. Because it’s not all me. I may
have opened your eyes to what you had become, or were in danger of becoming,
but you were the one who had to make the change. And you did. Or, at
least, you’re trying to. Quit your job, actually went to Angel of all
people in order to help save me, and you’ve even started looking into
creating your own law firm."
"How... how did you know that?"
"I have my ways," the redhead replied mysteriously. She paused then,
looking down at her feet. After a moment she raised her eyes to meet his,
and he could tell she was debating whether or not to say something.
"What is it?"
"Do you really think you can do it alone, Lindsey? Can you make this change
all by yourself?"
"You just said it had to be me who made the change."
"Yes, I did. And you do have to be the one who chooses. But it’s not easy,
Lindsey. And even though the decisions lie with you, it’s hard to be good.
And the thing is, now that you know what lurks out there, can you just
pretend it doesn’t exist? ‘Cause I know I couldn’t."
"I can handle what’s out there."
"Can you? Can you face the bad guys all by yourself, be they human or
otherwise, with nothing but a beer bottle for comfort?"
"What are you saying? That I’m basically screwed, so I should just give up
now?"
"Not at all. I’m just saying that you need help. Everyone does. And it
takes more strength to admit that than it does to lock yourself away and go
it alone."
"I’d think it would be more difficult on your own."
"Most do. No one to lean on... no one counting on you. You can close
yourself off and say that no one else matters. That’s what makes it easy.
You don’t have to give a damn. It’s harder when you care. There are people
counting on you, and if everything blows up in your face, it’s everyone who
gets hurt, not just you. But it can be better in some ways, too. A support
system to lean on, people that love you. What makes it easier is also what
makes it more difficult, ‘cause you have to watch the people you love
struggle, and you help them, but sometimes you lose them, too, whether it be
to the darkness or to death. And that’s where the most painful part
lies..." she trailed off then, then spoke softly, her voice no more than a
whisper. "I still love you, Lindsey. You’ve gotten yourself out of the
depths of the darkness, and I don’t want to see you fall back in."
"I don’t intend to."
"No one ever does. We... Angel Investigations... well, we could always use
a lawyer, someone with legal knowledge who could help us out."
"Are you asking me to come work with you?"
The redhead shrugged. "It’s just something to think about. It’s completely
up to you. The others agreed to it. All you have to do is make your
choice. Go it alone, or struggle through it with us at your side." That
said, she slowly made her way to the door, only to be stopped by Lindsey’s
voice.
"How’d you get in here, anyway?"
Willow held up a small key. "I never did get around to giving it back to
you. I guess I should now," she said, holding it out to him.
Lindsey waved it away. "Keep it. Oh, and Willow?"
"Yes, Lindsey?"
"You do realize that, if I do take this job at Angel Investigations, I won’t
be able to keep my hands off of you."
Willow smiled slightly. "It’s really not that big of a surprise. And...
and I don't really think I'd mind. We still have some things to work out
first, but then... well, I do still love you."
"And I love you. It’s good to know we, uh, have an understading. I’ll see
you at work tomorrow."
Willow smiled. "Ready for a new beginning, huh?"
"Yeah. Not too many people get a second chance."
"And even fewer take advantage of it. I'm glad you've decided to."
Lindsey waited until she had left, then spoke to the empty room, which no
longer seemed so lonely.
"So am I."
The End
