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Simplicity
by Mary Ellen and Jodi
Email: (emmy2@salsgiver.com) (jodia@intergate.ca)
Rating: R for slash, language, blood, darkness, hints at B/D
Classification: Angel/Lindsey
Spoilers: Season Two, through Reprise.
Summary: What happened after Angel's little Hell-epiphany to make him so
careless with his soul? Why was Lindsey so pissed?
Distribution: To Jen, for Finnatics, list archives. Anyone else, *ask*.
Feedback: We'd love some validation, thank you.
Disclaimer: We do not own anything in the Buffyverse. Everyone is owned by
Joss, Mutant Enemy and all those guys. We'll return them much happier, and
hopefully intact.
Acknowledgement: Lisa for her kind and loving Beta.
Dedication: To Prophecy and Jeneral, our constant inspirations...
________________________________________________________
Angel walked quickly, wanting nothing more than to get away. The adrenaline
rush of solving a case, of *winning* had been sorely lacking in the past few
weeks. The past few hours had reminded him of how it felt, given him a
taste of that rush, a drizzle, a promise, until it had turned sour and
conflicted and impossible, just like everything else in his life.
Wolfram and Hart had poured endless resources into encouraging this black
spiral. How ironic was it that he found the doorway to destruction in a good
deed gone awry? He'd had a goal, a clear one, despite the murky confusion of
his plans. That innocence, clarity, was stripped away, and he watched a
teenage girl rush by, her face twisted in confusion and rage.
Suddenly, destroying Darla and Dru and rescuing the teeming masses from
their fiendish imaginations no longer seemed important. Why rescue people
who were touched with darkness themselves? Striding on through the night,
unwilling to face the hollow gloom of the hotel and another night flushed
with ambiguity and simple defeat, Angel found his way to the Third Street
Promenade, toying with the notion of slaughter.
The simplicity would be almost beautiful. No one deserving his protection,
no damsels in distress, only a world full of creatures like himself, clawing
and fighting and hating to survive. He could triumph over them, in any way
that he pleased, take his solace, warm his darkness in whatever momentary
pleasure he chose.
He felt the beginnings of a smile touch his lips, strange and familiar at
the same time, and he knew that the first one he'd kill. The one who'd
started the whole mess, way back in the beginning. He knew the number off
by heart, and more importantly, he knew what buttons to push.
He still carried the cell phone, a remnant from the days when he'd actually
had a reason to remain in touch with others. The number was still in his
memory, and it was the work of a moment to dial.
"Yeah."
It didn't surprise him that Lindsey recognized his voice. He lit a
cigarette, listened to the arrogance, the bitter and somehow silly threats.
The manipulation came easily, a fact that would have spooked him, had he
cared.
He knew Lindsey's desires, the way Darla wound her insidious path through
his mind. He'd felt that desolation, the fruitless wanting. Exhaling
softly, Angel cut the flow of vitriol short.
A few carefully placed threats to her safety, a subtle challenge laced with
a mocking laugh and the fool was ready to charge off into battle again,
demanding his location. Angel was only too happy to comply. Snapping the
phone shut, he waited.
___________________________________________________________
Lindsey McDonald hung up his cell phone with a sneer on his face. He'd been
searching for her since the meeting had ended. She had to be out here,
somewhere, he could feel it, feel *her*. He knew that he had to find her
before they did. The "stake on sight" command had been spoken directly to
him.
He'd been mentally cursing the vampire for bursting in and ruining their
plans once again, although he had to admit, he hadn't been surprised. He had
pretty much expected it.
Lilah had been exasperated with him for not being overly worried about the
review, believing him to be irresponsible, devoid of caring. The reason he
hadn't been worried, was because he'd known. He'd *known* Angel would swoop
in and stop it all, so why bother stressing? Nothing but a waste of time
and Lindsey was sick and tired of wasting time.
The promenade where Angel had called from wasn't too far from the Wolfram
and Hart building. He supposed he could have driven there, but what was the
point? Parking in LA was a bitch anyway. Squaring his shoulders, he walked
quickly with the confident stride he had perfected.
It was easy really, head up, shoulders back, eyes forward. One hand in his
pocket, the other which he chose to ignore, hanging limply at his side.
Never let them know what you're thinking. Never let them see you care. Which
was easy since there were few things he cared about anymore.
The "someday" thoughts ran through his head like a personal mantra. "Some
day his ass will be mine. Some day he's going to pay for everything he's
done to me." Tonight, the "maybe I brought it upon myself" thoughts didn't
even enter his head. Angel had almost gotten Darla staked, though he had no
idea why she'd been at the review in the first place. If he could only find
her...
He reached the promenade in record time, blue eyes scanning for wherever the
vampire might be lurking. He'd learned early on that Angel often seemed to
appear out of nowhere. He wasn't in the mood for games.
__________________________________________________
Stealthy steps behind Lindsey, staring at the back of his neck, tender and
vulnerable, paper thin and pulsing with life, Angel debated the ease, the
subtle insult of ending this feud with an ambush. Angelus would never have
let his prey escape torment so easily, so Angel could do no less. He took
the last steps forward and tapped Lindsey on the shoulder, dropping the
cigarette and exhaling as he spoke.
"How much for head?"
Lindsey jumped about a mile in the air. So much for his cool demeanor. He
recovered quickly, although he was positive Angel was surely not fooled by
an arrogant sneer
"Much more than you could afford. What the hell do you want, Angel?"
"You."
Angel tracked his pupils dilating in confusion, scented the traces of fear.
Breathing deeply, the heady elixir rushed through his body, jolting him,
startling him with the electric tang of possibility. Reaching out to trace
Lindsey's jaw, he leaned in, illustrating the futility of any sort of escape
plan.
Whisper, calculatedly as tangible as a caress. "It all started with you."
Lindsey's entire body stiffened in fear. He tried his best to hold onto
himself, glaring at Angel with all the ice he could muster, but he couldn't
keep his trepidation hidden. Angel was unpredictable, not to mention a
two-hundred and something old vampire who knew all the tricks. The firm had
wanted him dark, but he should have guessed that the first thing Angel would
do would be to come after him.
He took a step back, deciding that redirection was the best strategy.
"How'd you know she'd be there?"
It was like clockwork now, and Angel felt disappointment at the simplicity,
mixed with the sheer exhilaration of hunting again. Shaking his head, moving
a step closer, he draped an arm over Lindsey's shoulders, steering him
toward the dim corner created by an abandoned storefront.
"It's not about her this time, Lindsey, it's about you. It's about you and
what you can do for me."
A carefully considering smile, a fleeting caress along the lawyer's neck,
the prickle of goosebumps a study in the texture of fear.
"It's about how you're going to persuade me that I don't *want* to kill you
or Darla or anyone else that you love."
Angel saw the comprehension, the flight instinct, the resignation all flit
through Lindsey's eyes in a matter of seconds. Options were weighed,
strategy was charted as their eyes met. He saw pride, a curious sort of
outrage, and what looked like the barest hint of arousal, before Lindsey
backed up, hitting the wall of the store. Reaching out, one hand laced in
Lindsey's hair, Angel tugged him toward the darker alley only a few steps
away.
Lindsey vowed not to show fear, there was absolutely no way that Angel was
going to bring him down to that level again. What he saw in the vampire's
eyes chilled him to the very core. He felt as cold as the hand at the base
of his neck, guiding him deeper into the shadows.
He finally jerked away, turning to face his antagonist. Words momentarily
gone astray, which for him was a rare thing. Then he said it, halfway
giving up.
"No more games, Angel."
"This isn't a game."
Mirthless laugh, brief and bitter, coupled with a testing swipe of his hand
down Lindsey's shirtfront. The excess layers of material were an irritant,
and he thumbed open the buttons, exposing the pale skin underneath.
Angel felt Lindsey's heart beat harder and faster as the cool night air hit
skin seldom exposed to any elements. Bending his head, quick swirls around
one burnt sugar nipple, just for the quick gasp, the reaction.
"How's it feel to be the one taking orders? No body guards to save you, no
magic spells to the rescue, just you and what little mercy I think you
deserve."
"I *always* take orders," Lindsey spat back. "What the hell do you think I
do all day? Do you honestly think wasting my time on you was *my* idea?" He
swallowed hard. If he kept talking he might even be able to ignore the
sensations Angel's fingers and tongue were causing. He could feel his blood
racing at approximately the same speed as his mind.
Angel registered the nervous tension, the redirection. Tipping Lindsey's
chin up, he forced eye contact.
"I think that you got a sick thrill out of it, dabbling with corruption and
redemption and never quite succeeding at either."
Leaning in, tracing the pulsing veins in Lindsey's neck with a careful
swipe of his tongue, "I think you've dreamed of this day, this surrender.
You take orders as long as they're telling you what you want to do, and you
want this, Lindsey. You want the choices taken away from you, free will
suspended. You want certainty and rules and I'm the only one in this city
that's strong enough to give that to you."
Reaching down for Lindsey's hand, cupping his fingers almost carefully,
Angel leaned down just a little, sucking one finger into his mouth and
watching Lindsey's eyes widen.
Lindsey sucked in his breath violently, his heart threatening to beat out
of his chest. The soft sensuality of Angel's lips surrounding his finger was
completely overwhelming. He felt his knees weaken, and forced himself to
remain upright. He briefly tore his gaze away from Angel, staring down the
black alley, finally realising that there was absolutely no escape.
Savouring the moment when he felt Lindsey's control snap, Angel released
Lindseys' finger, holding him upright when he threatened to stumble.
Releasing his finger, he watched Lindsey's eyes snap shut and then he wasin
full vampface, sinking his fangs into the delicate skin at the base of his
wrist, revelling in the snap and crackle of the fresh blood.
Groaning deep in his throat, the ecstasy of drinking real, warm blood
combined with the simplicity of surrendering the burden of redemption all
meshed to a blinding flash of sparkles behind his eyelids as he ripped
Lindsey's wrist away from his mouth.
Vicious whisper, as Lindsey slumped against him. "I'm not going to kill
you. You're going to remember the depth of your surrender, your abasement.
You were a good feed, I'll give you that, but I've got a notion to quench my
real thirst in another pond." He dropped Lindsey to the ground, smiling at
the dull thud he made.
Lindsey breathed heavily on the cold ground for a few moments, grasping the
fresh wound on his left wrist with the hand that Angel had already taken
from him. The irony was not lost on him. He bit his lips and closed his
eyes.
Waiting for the last trickle of emotion to drain from Lindsey's eyes, Angel
turned and walked out of the alley.
~end~
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