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Morale Events
by Minim Calibre
Email: cicada@cablespeed.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Lilah/Lindsey
Summary: Heat at Wolfram and Hart's annual retreat.
Spoilers: AtS S1, vague spoilers for AtS
Feedback: Sure thing.
Distribution: My site. List archives. Just ask.
Author Notes: Lilahficathon entry.
Author's Website: http://recalibration.adamao.org
*************
"Teamwork. Efficiency. Survival. Success. One of these things is not like
the other." The disembodied voice paused for a moment, letting the words
settle over the audience. In the sixth row back, three seats in from the
aisle, Lilah Morgan surreptitiously studied her nails and ignored the
lecture she knew by rote. Survive one Wolfram and Hart company morale
retreat, you've got the tools to survive them all. Survive two, and you
start to wish they'd alter the script a little.
For Lilah, this was number five. She'd come out on top each one of the four
previous times, and had the promotions and commemorative Lucite statues to
show for it.
"Success demands sacrifice. At the end of our presentation, we begin the
activities portion of our retreat. You will each be assigned a partner.
Don't think of this as team building: think of it as team breaking."
She checked her watch: t-minus ten minutes. Checked her purse: tools
present and accounted for, all systems go. After last year's debacle with
Lee Mercer, she knew better than to come unprepared. Not that she'd come at
all, no matter what he'd tried. Spell or no spell, Lee didn't have what it
took -- a fact she made sure to remind him of every time they crossed
paths, which was more often than she suspected he liked, which was just the
way she liked it. Sometimes, she even adjusted her schedule around getting
a dig in at him.
Interns shuffled silently into the aisles like so many jittery ants, the
trademark dark circles from sleepless nights turning their faces into death
masks. With expressionless efficiency, they distributed slips of paper,
each one printed with a name and a room number.
Lindsey McDonald, Room 115. Just her luck: Holland's pet. "Hope he's
housetrained," she muttered as she made her way to the room.
He'd beaten her to it.
"Lilah."
"Lindsey." She was glad she'd worn heels that really emphasized her height.
She'd leave them on when she girded her loins for battle. "Let's cut to the
chase: coin toss or short straw?"
He slid a silver dollar from his palm, balancing it on the side of his
thumb like a cheap magic act. "Heads or tails?"
"Heads."
"Your go." He calmly tucked the coin into his pocket.
"The usual rules? Any thing I say, you do?" Short of suicide, homicide, and
obvious self-mutilation, of course, though she'd heard all of the above had
been allowed back when the firm had started its annual retreats. Play and
counter play, no humiliation too great, no holds barred except the fatal ones.
"The usual rules."
"Back in five." Lilah took her purse and herself into the bathroom to get
ready. She stripped down to her bra, her shoes, and her lace-topped thigh
highs, then buckled her weaponry around her hips. The leather harness was
cool and stiff against her skin, and she made a note to try rubber the next
time she needed one.
When she came out, Lindsey was sitting in one of the two plaid armchairs,
his feet propped on top of the table. He put his hands behind his head and
leaned back, looking her over slowly. "If you expect me to bend over, I
just want you to know, it wouldn't be the first time."
"I didn't think it would. After all, I bet you bend over nightly for
Holland." She smiled and ran a finger over the seven inches of black
silicone strapped to her crotch. "Sorry to disappoint you. I want you to
suck it. Oh yeah, and I want you to make me enjoy it. Just remember what
they say about getting blood from stones."
He shrugged and swung his feet to the floor, ambling over without
hesitation. Lee, she thought irritably, would have at least had the grace
to look nonplussed. Lindsey looked like he did this every day on his lunch
hour for his health. Then again, just based on the way he sank to his knees
without being told, he probably did.
When he swallowed the whole thing without blinking or gagging, she amended
probably to definitely. Lilah pushed her hips forward, and was rewarded
with a slight choking sound before he readjusted himself, his mouth
squeaking wet against the dildo, teeth grazing the molded veins; she didn't
realize he was pushing back until she felt its base grind against her clit.
Lilah made another note, this time to mention the night's events to Lee,
and let herself come before she let Lindsey stop.
The bastard smirked as he stood up. "Guess that old chestnut about blood
from a stone's another lie."
"Your turn, Lindsey. What do you want?
"I want you to use that for what it was made for. I want you to fuck me."
"Let me guess, you also want me to make you enjoy it."
"I doubt you have it in you to make me enjoy anything you do, Lilah."
Lindsey's ass was pale and round. Undressed, he looked like the
International Male version of Cupid. She knelt between his parted thighs
and pushed the head of the dildo between his cheeks, letting his own saliva
act as lube.
"I bet this is how you earned the money for law school, isn't it?" His
shoulders stiffened. "Am I right? This how you made your way out of the
doublewide and into Armani?"
"Shut up." He bucked, trying to throw her off. A hit, a palpable hit.
Lilah jerked her hips, pushing into him roughly as she reached down to grab
his balls. "I bet the other kids just loved you. Little Lindsey with his
hand-me-down clothes, never quite blending in." Class and money issues. She
should have known.
"Shut. Up." But he was panting, his pelvis rubbing frantically against the
bed. She grabbed his hair and pushed his face into the pillow.
"Admit you were a cheap piece of trailer shit and you always will be,
Lindsey." She tightened her grip on his hair with one hand, and her grip on
his balls with the other. "Admit it."
His back arched and his body stiffened as he came against the blandly
tasteful pattern of the comforter, the name coming out of his mouth not the
one she'd expected, if she'd expected any name at all.
Pulling out, she unbuckled the harness and tossed it aside. "Who's Angel?"
A yawn, then he answered. "New player in town. Vampire who fancies himself
a good guy. Sent Russell Winters through a window in broad daylight."
And made himself the object of Lindsey's perverted fantasies while doing
it. Interesting. Even if Lindsey ended up beating her at her own game
before the retreat was over, this bit of information was the kind that made
it all worth while.
Angel.
She'd have to visit Files and Records and check him out.
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