Rating: NC-17 for some minor sexual situations between consenting adults.
Summary: Lindsey found out about the demise of Darla, and exacts his revenge on Angel. Only… he makes one big mistake - that leads to some interesting discoveries. AU.
Pairing[s]: Fred/Lindsey focused, Fred/Wesley [implied], Cordy/Angel [implied], slight Lindsey/Darla. Some light Wes/Gunn implications as well.
Spoilers: Everything up to “Dad” in season three of Angel. After that it really veers way off course.
Dedication: To Angel Jade - who I promised quite a bit ago, that I’d write a Fred/Lindsey for her kick ass idea of an archive. Hopefully we’ll see more Fred/Lindsey stories soon.
Archiving: UCSL, Law and Physics, Legal Ease, Pylean Refugee, and Gifted. Anywhere else is okay, just let me know so I can surf on over and check out where it’s been archived.
A/N: So this is my first Fred/Lindsey fic, and is completely thanks to Angel Jade for inspiring me with Fred/Lindsey-ness on IM’s. It’s been a while I know, but I promised I’d get this out for you, and lookie here, I actually came through. If anyone wants to be inspired, check out Law and Physics, Angel Jade’s site at: http://www.fortunecity.com/lavender/wargames/72/index.htm
Or join the list at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lawandphysics/
Now - on with the fic, odd pairing sure - but who gives a damn?
Fred figured love was about the craziest ride you could ever go on. It was kinda like a roller coaster. You get buckled into your little seat, put the bars down over your shoulders, maybe you even smirk, like the ride has nothing on you. Then it starts moving, a little fast and you worry. But it’s not until it starts dragging you up that scary slope - the wheels hitching and bucking you up the ride, that you start to get light headed. Then you get that big anticipation in your stomach, like it’s strung up somewhere near your heart - then your at the top, and your so scared, you think your gonna barf all over the place.
Maybe some of ya do.
You’re hearts beating so fast, and you know you’re going to fall - but you’re never sure if you really want to, cause what if the ride breaks and you’re stuck there, or thrown off the side?
And then you fall… and there’s nothing but your screaming and thundering heart in the world. Well maybe there’s his hand on, crushing the bones of your fingers as he yells just as loud.
She glanced over at him, the way his worried frown made his face seem tired as he talked on his cell phone. Then she glanced back out over the balcony of their hotel room. Below - the festival of the dead went on with dancing puppets and laughing, dark skinned people, wearing beautiful, sometimes frightening costumes.
A voice rung out in the night, a song in a foreign tongue…
Yeah… just like a roller coaster ride.
* * *
It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how to do these things. He’d worked for Wolfram and Hart for more than two years. Of course that time had been mostly an on again, off again basis. But hell - he’d been a kick ass; evil lawyer who’d spent a great deal of time, in love with a vampire WITHOUT a soul. So he should have been able to do this simple thing right.
You find the woman. You kidnap her. Put the fear of god into the Vampire that loves her.
And that’s how he’d come to end up here, he guessed, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes, the dirt under his nails pressing into his skin. Standing by a boarded up window, trying to take a breath of the cool night air through the cracks, while the thin, waif like woman slumbered on in a drug induced sleep, her wrists and ankles bound against the chair.
The wrong girl.
Swearing softly, he leaned his throbbing head against the dirty boards. Revenge could never be simple, could it?
Darla had been his obsession for a long time, even after she’d left - even after he’d decided to walk away from it all - it had been her face he’d remembered, and groaned over - fingers sliding over his chest and further down. Her golden hair - the chilly skin. Yes, he’d remembered and agonized over it during many nights, when the motel bed covers became itchy and kept him awake, the image of her floating like a ghost in front of his puffy, open eyes.
There had never been anything between them really, but for his desperate longing - the ache of it. Even though it had sometimes made him sick - he hadn’t been able to get enough of her. But that didn’t matter right now, not now. After all, she was gone. She was deader than a vampire should be. Ashes.
He’d learned of it while sitting in a southern diner, in jeans and a t-shirt, looking out the large glass window, to the golden hills of the small town. Watching the way they swished and flashed in the sunlight. He’d sworn he’d never go back, not to where he was raised, but sitting there - he realized that was where he was headed, and wondered why he was running back there - when everything inside him rebelled at the humiliation that would bring.
Around him, the Diner had thrived with southern hospitality and all that useless junk. The waitress with her big blonde hair - walking around in that cute little pink outfit that was a little too tight. The customers were mostly regulars - people who stopped by every day for breakfast and coffee. And old man sat on a stool at the bar - his had a cap on his had, reading something about Budweiser, and his jowls jiggled as he ate his eggs. He was all alone, staring down at the food on his plate with complete concentration.
Lindsey had wondered if that would be him one day.
He was still arguing with himself when his cell phone rang. Its shrill chirp startled him, made him hop in his seat and spill his coffee over the rim and singe his fingers. Swearing, he mopped up the liquid quickly with a paper napkin and barked a hello into his, rarely used of late, cell phone.
Slowly, his frantic mopping of the coffee stopped, and his fingers began to tremble. His breathing was a rough testament to his thundering heart, trying to force itself out of his chest.
His obsession…
“ Lindsey, I’m surprised I could get a hold of you.” It was Lilah, and he could almost hear the smirk trailing her voice like smooth black silk. “ Last I heard, you were finding your… roots.”
“ Well Lilah, last I heard - you were a whore with bad taste. I wonder which one of us, is right?”
“ That really hurts.” But he knew she was smiling. He stroked a finger over the tired smudges beneath his eyes. Vanity made him wish them away. “I’m just calling to inform you, about a death I think you might be interested in. I thought you might like to hear it from a friend.”
That was when the trembling started, with the way Lilah could barely contain her pleasure. But he didn’t let it on, just gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles were white.
“ A death?” Calm. Even. In control.
“ Well - if you consider a vampire, which is technically a walking corpse, to be something that can die.”
“ What the fuck are you talking about?”
Lilah laughed softly, before taking a breath, and he could all but hear her licking her lips.
“ I was so sure you’d have known all ready. After all - you had that little infatuation with her.”
A breath. His stomach dropped and shattered against his feet.
“ Darla?” A whisper.
“ Good guess, and I was so looking forward to telling you. Yes, Darla is now ashes - well mud, when you think about it - because it was raining…”
The Diner seemed to slow, lose its shape. For one moment, he felt the thick pump of blood in his chest. And then everything was back to normal. Except for him.
“You fucking bitch, what did you do?” Heads in the diner were turning at his raised voice, the waitress paused at the table behind him, and held the coffee pot a little tighter in her hand. “ What the hell have you done to her?”
Lilah paused on the other end, her breath whispering teasingly through the ‘phone.
“ I didn’t do anything. Calm down Lindsey, I have an interesting story to tell you.”
And she did. She told a story in that same silky voice, all the while kicking him in his gut with her pointed high heels. It was about that night of passion between two vampires, about a life that had begun to grow and blossom inside of something so dead, so evil - that it was unheard of in all times known to man or demon. And then she spoke of this vampires sacrifice - how she’d laid down in the rain, and learned what love was - lifting a stake and stabbing it into her chest - turning to dust, while her ex-lover did nothing to stop her, just stared down at the dust covering his newborn child. “ It was really quite an interesting sight to behold.” More laughter. “ We have tapes of it of course, if you’d like to see them. Wolfram and Hart would never miss such an opportunity.”
He couldn’t speak - his eyes were glued to the soggy brown napkins in front of him. “ I just thought you should know.” Lilah said quietly, confident of his pain. “ After all - what are friends for?” And then the line was beeping in his ear, the world slowly revolving around as his stomach reincarnated, and revolted in his chest, his throat…
Lindsey jerked out of his booth, tipping his coffee and spilling it onto the floors he skidded across. Heads once more turned in his direction, eyes under cowboy hats curious and speculative. Eyebrows raised, forks paused at mouths. He dove into the men’s room, slamming the door behind him - the single toilet became filled with the contents of his breakfast.
His obsession, his weakness, his blind spot…
Slumped against the wall - sweat dripped from his hair and into his eyes, where it stung. But no tears - no, those weren’t allowed.
Hit square in the gut with a steel-toed boat. Darla was ash. Darla was gone. It hadn’t been expected. It hadn’t even been considered. After all, he’d been living with out her for a few months now. Longer. Because he’d never truly had her. Even though his mind was always focused on the visage of her.
Lindsey laid his head on the cool tile of the bathroom floor - saw that the toilet leaked and felt siick again. Slowly a familiar rage worked up inside of him, twisted his face and turned him red. Furious. Angel. Of course. Wasn’t it always Angel? He’d left on shaky terms with the vampire, besides getting pulled over by a pig and taken in for a night. A sign reading, Cops suck on the back of his truck. He’d been prepared to say, “Have a good fucking life, hope I never see you again.” But now… that wasn’t possible.
Angel, he’d always been there, in the way of what Lindsey was reaching for - literally, doing something to tear apart his foundations - and this time, it was no different. He’d gotten Darla pregnant - he’d been the one to let her die. It was his fault.
And sitting there, knees to his stomach and the back of his jeans getting dirty - he planned. And he hated - more than he ever had before. Which was saying something. It had taken about a week to get everything together, to spend a little money on ropes, food, and general supplies. What cost the most would have to be the sleeping gas - but he hadn’t even winced when he’d paid the total. Didn’t care about the smirk of the middle aged woman, who sold him the drug.
“ I want the tape Lilah.” Lindsey had demanded after calling her back. Her rumble of laughter, meant she would be all too pleased to comply.
“ Absolutely Lindsey, my only wish? I would love to see your face as you watch it.”
Bitch.
Now he was here - trying desperately to think of what to do, twisting in the wind of the run down building. Its ceilings were swollen and stained with water. Dust covered every surface, was even starting to cover the small fridge he’d been able to buy from a yard sale. A yard sale. No longer the fancy lawyer boy was he? Finally, he shoved away from the window, away from the memories. They weren’t going to help him, only slow him down. Stalking over to the small fridge, he pulled out a soda; poor substitute for beer, but he couldn’t afford to get drunk enough to forget about the pain, any of it. After popping the tab, taking a gulp and feeling the bubbles burn a path down his throat, he considered the woman in the other room carefully.
A long curtain of chestnut hair covered one white cheek, curled around her arms. Her face was slack, unpainted by makeup, head falling back against her shoulder, chest rising and falling evenly. She was pretty enough he supposed, in a plain way. He wondered just how the hell he’d ended up with her. One moment, he’d seen Cordelia about to leave the dance floor, heard her say she was gonna go get her purse, then next thing he knew he was grabbing this woman out of the dark.
He hadn’t known right away, had been too caught up in getting her into his truck, to realize the shape of this woman was all wrong, she wasn’t curvy - but thin with an almost boyish torso - cute none the less. But he just hadn’t been thinking about anything but not getting caught… which hadn’t been a real smart move.
He’d been watching the Hyperion during the day, and occasionally during the night - but he knew not to push his luck. And he’d seen this young woman walking often in the garden, a note book in her arms, a small strange smile on her lips. She’d seemed like there wasn’t anything in the world that could go wrong, just scribbling away in her notebook, occasionally looking around the garden and grinning. But he’d spent most of his time watching the byplay between Angel and his seer. It appeared the bastard had fallen in love again, which was a good thing for his plan, it meant more pain for the vampire. More heart break, torment. But he’d ended up with this woman. So - maybe she wasn’t Cordelia - maybe she wasn’t the woman Angel was in love with - but she meant plenty to him, and Angel WOULD hurt when he found out she was taken.
He smiled slowly, and touched a finger to her dark hair. It was soft under the pad of his thumbs, so he moved back away.
It was all a matter of making do with what you had. He’d learned that enough in his child hood. Making do with what you had, and finding a way to get more.
* * *
Fred shifted in her hard seat - her ankles and wrists throbbing from being stuck in the same position for so long. Her head had that slightly dazed feeling it got when she’d had her first drink of alcohol, like it was floating somewhere. It was enough to make her a little nauseous. So she sat still, kept her eyes closed and counted to ten, until the nausea passed enough so she could open her eyes groggily.
For a second everything blurred together in front of her, but soon her eyes focused and she realized she wasn’t in her bedroom. She wasn’t even lying down; she was sitting up in a chair. She tried to move, to get up - but her ankles and wrists were bound to the chair. Which explained why they were sore. Struggling for calm, she looked at her surroundings. It wasn’t comforting.
“ Hello?” She called out, or tried to. But her throat was dry and scratchy.
It appeared to be some sort of run down shack, possibly bigger - but she couldn’t see very far into the darkness of the other rooms.The room she was in was barely lit itself, only enough to vaguely see the colors around her. There was one window, in front of her - but it was boarded up tightly with fresh nails, if old boards. There were cobwebs on the corner walls, caked with dry wall dust - the walls themselves a shade of dirty yellow. Maybe it was supposed to be white, but it looked like years had settled on its surface.
Her breathing seemed too loud in the abandoned room, so she closed her mouth, tried breathing through her nose. How had she gotten here?
She remembered Cordelia begging her to come out with her - go to the nightclub. She’d been reluctant at first, but Cordy had persisted, and Fred had come to realize just how much a night away would mean to the seer. So she had, and had actually been having a good time amongst the crowded dance floor - bumping into sweaty bodies and laughing with Cordy. It had been a blast - and she’d begun learning a few of Corddy’s moves, even had a guy or two hit on her, which was something, considering she’d never been much of a male-magnet.
Basically though, she’d danced and thought about how fun it would be to get back home and watch Angel writhe in jealous after she told him about all the guys that were hitting on Cordelia. Not to be cruel - but everyone needed a kick in the butt once in a while.
“ I’m gonna go get my purse from Angel’s car!” Cordy yelled above the din of the music, her face green and purple in the lights. “ We need some water! I feel like I’ve sweat out half my body fluid.”
“ I’ll get it!” Fred had called back, started toward the exit where a figure discreetly left. “ I need a break anyway!” Cordelia had answered with something vaguely like an affirmative, but the music was too loud and drowned out her voice. Fred slipped through the exit, past the brawny guard with a furry face - who winked at her. She smiled back. Fred took a deep breath of the L.A. air when she stepped outside, past the club lights. Sure it was a little smoggy, but it was clearer and colder than the sweat packed, cigarette smoke filled room inside.
There was a little swing in her step as she walked, humming to some rock music that she couldn’t quite put a name too. Her eyes were focused ahead of her, face bright with all the things dancing had always brought out in her.
Fred was almost to the car, when a hand clamped over her mouth - a rag covering her nose. A scream vibrrated up through her chest, muffled there by the steel arm that wrapped around her torso. ‘Stupid’ she thought in panic. ‘ I shoulda paid more attention…’
She was dragged into the shadow as her head began to buzz, the world become mixed up shapes, swimming in front of her eyes. Her flat ked shoes dragged across the ground, one slid off. Before she lost consciousness, there was a man’s voice in her ear - slightly rounded, as if his accent was southern, but hidden - restrained.
“ I’m sorry Cordelia, but you’re the best way to hurt Angel.” A shuffle, and she was laid down in the cab of a truck - almost completely asleep. “ See where him being in love with you, gets ya?”
‘I’m not Cordelia!’ She wanted to shout, but was too busy drooling on the interior of the beat up truck, as consciousness evaded her.
Now, she struggled to twist her hands out of the rope, but couldn’t get free - only caused it to burn against her skin. She bet if she’d had a good view of it, and it wasn’t behind her back, she’d have been able to get free like she’d never been tied up. But there were things she’d learned never to wish for, while living in a cave… and that was the impossible.
There was a sound in the other room, and her heart hopped like a scared Jack Rabbit. Out of the shadows - came the face of a man. His hair was sloppy, not dirty - just hanging low over his brow - his eyes a brilliant blue against a pale face. It was in every bone of his face, a kind of intensity that just made a girl know - he’d do anything to get what he wanted.
Fred screamed. And so what if it was girly?
Lindsey flinched, stumbling back in his boots - a foot catching on an un-nailed board and he almost tripped. He caught his balance and glared at the young woman who was staring at him with eyes so wide they took up her entire face.
“ Stop screaming!” He ordered and her mouth closed shut so quickly he heard her teeth snap together. “ That’s better.” He came fully out of the shadows - watching the way she shivered and tried to shift the chair further away from him. “ I’m not going to hurt you.” He said carefully - raising his hands, palm up.
Her face was incredulous - bathed only in scratches of yellow light from dirty bulb swaying above her head. A moth flew around it in fast little circles.
Lindsey took a couple careful steps toward her, eyes trailing slowly to her legs where they kicked with frustrated strength at the ropes that tied her ankles to the chair legs. “ I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He murmured even as she stilled. “ It’ll rub all that pretty skin of yours raw.”
Catching himself staring - he moved to sit on top of the small fridge, it was cool and damp beneath him, but he wanted to be a good distance from her in order to ward off any hysteria.
“ Why did you bring me here?” She whispered it, white around the lips. “ I’m not Cordelia.”
Lindsey nodded, slapping his palms on his thighs. She winced and he told himself not to make any sudden movements. He wasn’t out to scare the girl - just keep her there until Angel knew once and for all - what suffering was.
“ I know that. This is really all just a misunderstanding, but now that you’re here, I can’t just let you go, now can I?” She got a little paler, eyes glassy.
“ What are you going to do to me?”
“ NOTHING!” He said forcefully. “ You’re just a pawn kid, don’t worry about it.” His face took on that angry look it so often wore. “ You’re not the one I want to hurt.”
“ Angel?” Fred asked so very softly, while her fingers worked furiously at the ropes on her wrists. A frustrated puff of breath escaped her when she found her fingers too short to reach.
Lindsey smiled slowly, and it was disturbing as it was sexy.
“ Of course.”
* * *
“Cordy, SLOW down.” Angel’s fingers gripped her shoulders - pressing her back from him carefully. “ What are you talking about?” The girl in his arms shuddered, fingers clutching at the silk of his shirt. He winced a little when the material wrinkled - but the look on her face stopped him cold. Cordy, who had lunged at Angel in a fit of anger, tears and words - backed quickly away, spinning around and facing him again.
“ Fred!” She managed, gasping through still falling tears. Cordy wasn’t the type to cry - at least not in front of anyone else. So it made Angel’s stomach walls squeeze with dread. “ She’s gone! I let her go get my damn stupid pocket book, and she never came back. What are we going to do Angel? Is there some sort warranty or portals, like after a few months you get sucked back in or something?”
Angel stiledl any panic that wanted to rise in him. Fred was missing. Okay. His gripped her carefully again, crouching down her her level.
“ She just.. disappeared?” He frowned, sliding his palms from her shoulders to her elbows in an absent caress.“ She has to be somewhere.”
“ But she’s not!” Cordy yelled, banging a fist on his chest in frustration. “ I spent all night looking for her - but she just left, vanished, pow, bang, vamooshed, whipped away - how much clearer can I make this?!”
“ Okay - we’ll just, okay.” Angel took one of those un-needed breaths that annoyed everyone, and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “ We’ll set out a few rats, get some info. Those guys have eyes everywhere. They’ll know something.” He caught the look in her eyes. “Don’t start feeling guilty Cordy. Just calm down, we’ll find her. I promise. Just don’t… crack up, okay?”
She nodded.
“ Right. Sure. Yeah.” Walked quickly away and slammed into the bathroom. His eyes followed her, a soft curse on his lips.
Wesley, who had heard the commotion, came out of the office, his eyebrows raised.
“ What’s going on?” He asked in a quiet voice. Angel turned to him, trying not to glance back at where Cordelia had gone. He prepared himself to tell this to Wesley - Wesley who had obviously fallen in love with Fred. Prepared him self for the storm.
“ It’s Fred…. She’s missing.”
Angel watched the man before him pale dangerously. He grabbed his elbows to keep him from falling when Wes’s knees gave out.
* * *
Fred watched his hair dip forward as he dialed the numbers into his cell phone, his face tight and shadowed with other things. So this was how it was going to happen. She was just gonna be another pawn in the effort to destroy Angel. Too bad they grabbed the wrong girl. Or good depending on what view point ya’ had.
She held her breath when she heard him say, “ Hello. Can I speak with Angel?”
He turned toward her, smiling ruefully and then away - facing the boarded up window. His flannel shirt stretched taught over his shoulder blades. “Angel. Yes, it’s me.”
So they knew each other? Lindsey put his hands on his hips, held the ‘phone between his shoulder and his ear, picking at the edge of his worn jeans where the material frayed. Who was this man? “ That isn’t nice, Angel. I’m here to give you a little tip. Oh?” The smile on his face had worn thin, became a honed blade of malice.
Fred felt trapped in this small room. With the dirt and the stench just pushing in on her. Too much like too many other places she’d visited. “ I hear you’re a daddy now. Rocking the cradle? Yeah, well - I also heard that Darla’s dead, and you know how that makes me feel.”
She glanced down at her feet. Darla. The memory of rain washed over her, pitter patting inside her head. “ You let her die Angel. And you’re going to pay for it. I swear it.” Lindsey glanced back at her again, grimacing. But there was a certain amount of pleasure in his voice. “ Yes. I have her. You want to speak to her? Let me check to see if she’s available.” Lindsey pressed hold on the phone, and walked over to her, crouching down so they were eye level. “ So you’re name’s Fred, huh?” He quirked his lips, tugged on the bottom of her knee length skirt when she didn’t answer. Carefully, she nodded. “ Cute name. Is there a last name to go with it?”
“ Burkle.” Fred muttered. “ My name is Winifred Burkle and I really dislike you.”
If anything his smile got wider, he raised a hand up over his heart. She notice there seemed to be a pale ring around the wrist, like a faded scar. Or a scar that had been hidden and was showing up over time.
“ I’m wounded. So Ms. Burkle - you think you can take a phone call?”
Fred nodded eagerly, and he lifted the phone while staring at her with shuttered eyes. “ No funny stuff, all right?” Fred nodded once more, sighed in relief when Lindsey took the phone off hold and tipped it up to her ear.
“ Angel?” Her voice was trembling and she felt like a fool. A ninny, but she couldn’t really help it.
“ Fred?” Angel said loudly, and Fred flinched away from the noise - her head still wavy. “ Are you okay?”
“ Sure, I’m just peachy.” She pursed her lips. “ For being kidnapped, tied up and not being able to feel my feet.”
“ He didn’t hurt you?”
Fred tried to answer, but Lindsey pulled the phone away from her. She ground her molars together in frustration.
“ So you talked to her.” Lindsey was suddenly all business again, his back straight, eyes on some unseen goal. “ Yeah, she’s okay. I didn’t touch her. Yet.” Goose bumps prickled up her arms, made her skin twitch. Yet. “ You just worry about it. Think about what I might be doing to her. Then? Maybe you’ll know how I felt. I know I don’t have the woman you’ve been.. heh, yeah. But she’s like your little sister ain’t she? You’ll be worrying. No. No demands. Just suffer.”
He hung up the phone with sigh as if something major had been accomplished. Then he sank down onto the floor, and sat staring at the wall for a while, as if all his plans were laid out there, and all he had to do was stare at them, to put ‘em in action.
And in the silence, there was something like aching.
Fred looked away.
* * *
“Okay, here’s the plan,” Wesley began, handing a file to Angel who passed it onto Cordy. She gripped it, opening it up and looking at the text on the first page. They were all standing in Wesley’s office, Gunn having just arrived after being paged. “ We take search routes, Cordy goes to the police. I know we don’t usually involve them, but this is Fred.” Which meant - there would be no measures Wesley wouldn’t take. Cordy looked up from the file, it was filled with information on Lindsey’s past. A worried frown tugged at her face, though she tried to conceal it.
“ She didn’t sound like she’d been hurt.” Angel offered, hands in his pockets. Everyone looked at him. “ But she’s not like the rest of us, she’s fragile. She’s got that way about her.” He saw Cordy’s look, and flashed an uneasy scowl.
“ Not fragile, Angel.” Cordy put in firmly. “Just weird.” He looked at her, almost smiling. Almost.
Wesley cleared his throat, face hard.
Angel shifted, ready to get moving. “ Angel,” Wesley pointed at a map. “ You take the lower streets, you can move through the sewers until night fall - see if you pick up her scent. Gunn and I will take the others, and split up half way through.” Angel nodded, gripping his ax tightly in his hand. “ So everyone get going, and Cordy - just give that information to the cops, they might be able to track him through it, though it’s doubtful.”
Wesley handed Gunn a map, and a looked passed between them. It was Fred.
Everyone scattered, grabbing lightweight jackets for the slight chill in the air, and that cold pit which had settled in their guts.
Wesley stood at his desk for a minute longer, looking down at the larger map. Angel headed for the door, then stopped and turned abruptly. Wesley continued to look down at the map.
“ I’m sorry.” The vampire said haltingly, bitterness in his voice. “ That this happened, because of me. I’m… sorry.” Wesley didn’t say anything, didn’t move a muscle, and eventually Angel left, his leather duster making soft slapping sounds as he jogged away and out the Hyperion door.
Wesley touched a finger to the map below him, as if he might pin point where she was. His fingers grazed along the blue and red lines, they looked like blood vessels. It was almost frightening, if you looked too close.
“Me too.” Gently, he folded the map, and stuffed it into his suit pants pocket.
“ Yo, English - you coming or what?” Gunn called from the lobby.
“ One moment.” Wesley called back, grabbing his over coat and closing the door silently behind him.
* * *
Lindsey stirred the stew as it began to boil over the small portable stove. He kept an eye on her through the hole in the wall - where only a few foundation boards barred his view. She looked pale and sad, staring at the covered window, but also pretty, as if sorrow, loneliness was a face she wore well. He shook off the thoughts and tapped the spoon against the edge of the pot, taking out a card board bowl from the stack on the milk crate. He spooned an ample amount into it, sure that she was hungry. She didn’t look at him as he entered the room where she sat, just stared off with quiet eyes.
He pulled a can out of the fridge, shutting it and considering her.
Sure, he was feeling guilty - she seemed nice enough, and didn’t deserve this, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. She’d been caught in the cross fire, and she would have to be his ticket to breaking Angel. He was positive the guilt would be enough to rip the vampire up inside. And if not… Cordelia’s guilt would be. He’d heard her voice in the back ground when he’d called. There’d been an edge to it, shame. He wasn’t really sorry for it, he didn’t even know her. Just that she was the one Angel appeared to be dumbstruck over.
Silently he walked over to Fred, holding the bowl at his stomach, where steam curled up into the air. She remained, staring blanking into thin air.
“ Fred?”
Slowly, her head turned toward him - and he saw lines pull her mouth taut. She glanced down at the stew, than away again, a sigh pushing out her chest. “ Are you hungry?”
“ Yes.” She said simply. For a second, he was confused about her non-movement, before he realized he’d have to untie her. Hesitating, he glanced at her arms bending back behind the chair. Pressing his lips together, he bent and set the food and drink down on the floor, before moving behind her and slowly freeing her wrists. When they were released, she cried out softly in pain, her arms falling limp at the sides of the chair.
Lindsey winced and bit his bottom lip, before moving to her side and gripping an arm gently in his hand. He looked regretfully at the livid red marks on her skin, and noticed that her hands had turned a mottled shade of purple and white. Carefully her rubbed his fingers over her palms, massaging the blood back into circulation even as she whimpered, trying to jerk away from him - but she was in too much pain, fighting back embarrassing tears. “ I’m sorry.” He told her, and meant it - looking up and into her eyes. His position made him look supplicant, which she knew he would never be. “ I really am. I’m not out to hurt you, you should have told me you were in pain.”
Her eyes darkened imperceptibly, elbows contracting inward and away from him. He let her go.
“ So now it’s my fault?” She rubbed her wrists, glaring at him as best she could - but she’d never been good at it. “ Not the guy who tied me up in the first place?” His eyes close down, and she couldn’t help but wonder what was behind him. He stood, and handed her the bowl, saying nothing. She took it, staring down into the stew suspiciously.
“ It’s not poisoned!” He snapped, shoving the soda at her. When she only played with the food, he grabbed the spoon from her hand and shoved a chunk of meat from the bowl into his mouth. And almost immediately spit it out, it landed with a splat on the grimy floor. Lindsey waved at hand in front of his mouth, felt the scorching trail on his tongue where the taste buds had been all but singed off. He stuck is tongue out, probing it with careful fingers before noticing the way she looked at him. As if he’d turned into a baboon in front of her, an entertaining spectacle. Putting his tongue back in his mouth, he cleared his throat - crossing his arms over his chest. “ You - uh, might wanna let it cool down.”
“ Yea’.” She smiled slightly, just a curl of her lips that was quickly gone as she bent down and blew on the stew.
After a minute - she dug in, but stopped before bringing the chunk of potato and gravy to her mouth. With a shriveled sigh, she set the spoon back into the bowl on her lap.
He sat down on the milk crate near her.
“ What now?” She raised her hands awkwardly. The red marks stood out painfully on her pale arms, and he had to look away from them. “ I just, I guess it’s kinda hard to work up an appetite when your not sure if you’re gonna be alive tomorrow.”
His face was classic with shock, but he knew it shouldn’t have been. What else was a captive supposed to think of their captor?
“ I told you before, more than once.” His leaned forward, tried to make her see the truth of it with his eyes, but his hair got in the way and he had to brush it aside. “ I’m not going to hurt you.” He said the words carefully, with the proper prononciation. “You’re not the one I want to hurt. Okay?”
She laughed humorlessly - a slightly bubbly sound, as though it came from the back on the tongue.
“ Sure. That’s what they always say in the movies. But they’re always lyin’.”
His jaw clenched, but he sat back, his legs stretching out in front of him, his brown worker boots tilted toward the bloated ceiling.
“ I may be a lot of things,” He said, eyeing her in a way that made her uncomfortable. “ I admit I am a lot of things. But I’m not a woman beater.”
“ Then who ARE you?” She asked him, leaning forward, the bowl gripped between her fingers, the soda can on the arm of the chair.
“ I’m…” he almost told a lie, but he knew it wouldn’t matter in the end. “ I’m Lindsey Mcdonald. That’s all.”
Fred’s mouth dropped open, before she snapped it shut and leaned back away from him again.
“ You’re… the one that was gonna kill Cordy with the visions.” Lindsey felt a flame leap up to his cheeks, shame filling his belly at the look on her face. He didn’t know how she was doing it, and he didn’t care for the feeling.
“ Yes.” He grit out, standing up so suddenly the crate tipped over onto its side. “ And Angel cut off my hand.”
She looked at his two perfectly attached hands. He followed his eyes and raised his stolen hand up to the light. Déjà vu. Fighting off a shiver, he gave her a small smile. “ Amazing, really. What money can buy you.”
“ It can’t buy back your soul.” She told him, eyes as cold as he’d seen them. And he’d been looking, whether he liked to admit it or not.
“ No.” He said softly. “That it can’t.”
She eyed the side of his face when he looked away, down at both of his hands.
“ Did you love her very much?” Her question obviously surprised him, and he jerked - reeling back, hitting the wall behind him with a small thump, dust and dry wall crumbs falling around him in a small shower, leaving the air foggy with white powder. Then he just leaned against it, not sure if he was going to tell her or not. Not sure WHAT to tell her.
“ I…” He shook his head, picking at the dirt beneath his nails, trying to dislodge it, before sighing and straightening his shoulders. “ I don’t really know. But she was everything to me…” Her eyes made him feel uncomfortable, prickly in his clothes. “ She - wasn’t good for me, I know that.” He laughed strangely. “ I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Why do you even want to know?”
She shrugged. Her hair fell across her face before she tucked it back behind her ears.
“ I don’t know myself.” Her mouth twisted in that way it sometimes did. “ I guess - maybe I wanna understand. I’m not gonna be happy to be here, but I’m kinda curious - what kinda woman, it takes to make a man go crazy like this…” She shook her head, her brow furrowing. “ You have to admit, this is crazy. And coming from me, that really means something!”
“ It had to be done.” His face went blank. “ Angel and I have a history, with plenty of sticky spots. He’s always been this… block, in my way. Always having what I want - and then, destroying it. You don’t know how… FRUSTRATING that is. All I wanted was her, and she couldn’t think of anything but getting her precious Angelus back… and then.. they,” he stopped, didn’t go on. But his face clouded over with troubled memories, and Fred thought how stern his features could be set. “ Let’s just say - Angel got what I’d been trying to get. And then he just… discarded it. And he could, he had her enough that it was a choice for him.”
“ But that doesn’t make this right. It wasn’t Angel’s fault that Darla got a conscience.” Fred pushed out, after finally taking a bite of her stew. It had cooled considerably, became almost too cold. His eyes became hot with fury, but before he could speak, she went on. “ Darla was EVIL, and that had some kinda meaning, right? But that child, she ended up loving it. I think you would have loved her, if you saw her give up her life, or.. whatever, out there in the rain. It was… it made me have a respect for her, that you shouldn’t really ever have for a vampire without soul.”
“ But she’s gone!” Lindsey shouted, trying to stay under control, but losing it fast. “ There’s nothing left of her, and it’s all because he couldn’t keep his cock in his pants!” Fred flushed and looked away. He scowled, before practically stomping out of the room. Calm or not, he just couldn’t be in there anymore. Not with the memories of watching the video tape slicing into his mind. Fred had been there - in the rain, a jacket over her head.
And he couldn’t get that image out of his head, not of her, not of Darla, and certainly on Angel’s shocked face, staring down at the dusty child where Darla had once lain.
He sat down roughly on the broken couch - with only one leg. It tilted diagonally toward the floor, but he didn’t really give a damn. There was just too much…
Still in the room, Fred peered through the hole in the wall at him. He was sprawled out on the couch, a video tape gripped in his fingers, his forearm covering his arms as if he just couldn’t take the sun setting in his face through the shuttered windows. Panic and excitement gripped her heart, made it twitch in her chest.
Her hands were untied. Quietly she set the bowl on the floor beside her chair, before reaching down and picking at the knots of the room that held her legs bound. She bit her lip, to stop the cry of pain that would have escaped her when the blood flowed back into her feet, the toes tingling harshly inside her one ked shoe, the other inside a grass stained white sock.
She slipped the one shoe off, set it down onto the floor as well, without sound.
Fred stood as well as she could, wincing as she put weight down on her ankles and heel. But she kept it inside, promised herself she’d have a good cry or two over it later, and tip toed around the wall - Lindsey still had his arm over his eyes, and he was muttering to himself, as if deciding his next course of action.
Her lips spread open and revealed her clenched teeth as she tried to pass him. A board creaked and he stopped talking to himself, but she stayed still for a moment, and he went back to his quiet mutterings. But her throbbing heart didn’t dislodge from her throat. She started moving again, an inch at a time - until she reached what looked like it might have been a door once upon a time, but was no just an opening. She stepped through, out onto cement, and realized she was actually in what appeared to be an abandoned factory.
Heart thumping, she maneuvered down a flight of metal stares and across another stretch of cement where machines rusted and aged. Her blood was screaming in her ears, making walking difficult - every muscle in her body trembled, as she reached the outside. Her breaths were little puffs that surged in her chest. Sunlight glinted orange over the buildings. L.A. Thank god she was still in L.A.
She found herself in an alleyway - thin between two large, old looking buildings. A sign hung crooked above her head, reading, 'Jamison’s Engine Co.’. She shifted out from beneath it, trying not to run for fear of drawing attention to herself. Or maybe disturbing the tired, bitter man inside.
That tired, bitter man had finally made up his mind. He’d have to call Angel again - it wouldn’t do any good to make Angel suffer, if he didn’t actually get to at least HEAR it. Sitting up he reached for his cell phone in his pocket, before he realized he’d left it in the room with Fred. He stood creakily, feeling strangely old as he went back into the room.
His cell phone was immediately forgotten when she saw the ropes dangling from the empty, wooden chair. Something grabbed his throat - made it close up tight and hard, and he stumbled out of the room, his eyes scraping all over the place, until he caught sight of the foot prints on the dirty floor, over his. They were small - no shoes, just socks.
His nostrils flared, and he ran out the doorway after her, his boots pounding down the metal stair way, out over concrete floors, ducking around the machines, when he burst from the abandoned factory, she was half way down the alley - walking slowly with her arms wrapped around her, even though it wasn’t a cold day.
“ Fred!” He called out, which he realized quickly was a stupid thing, considering. She didn’t even look back, just started running as fast as her long legs could carry her, the knee lengthy, flower print skirt lifting up and swirling around her thighs. He ran right after her, gaining ground quickly. Her hair flew out behind her, got in her eyes, caught in her mouth. Slowed her down, because she couldn’t see.
Fighting fear and the pain in her feet that made her limp every so often, she made it to the mouth of the alley… only to be grabbed around the waist and dragged back against a hard body. “ Damn it, Fred!” It was muttered into her ear even as she kicked out, catching him in the shin and making him stumble. “ Stop it! I told you I won’t hurt you, but I need you. I can’t help it, you’re the only trick I’ve got left up my sleeve!”
But this didn’t calm her, she fought like a wild thing, with nails and teeth, leaving bite marks on the hand that tried to come up and cover her shouts for help. “ I’m sorry!” he said it furiously, even though it was her fingers that were digging long, pink welts in the skin of his arms. “ But I’ve gotta keep you here…”
“ No!” She screamed, butting her head back against his forehead. He let out a blistering oath, before dropping her down. Frantically Fred twisted out of his grip, tried to remember what Cordy had taught her, then just went with instinct, bringing up an elbow that he was too shocked of to dodge. It landed hard in his nose, sending a burst of blinding pain through his face - white leather strips of it, making him fall back, and then there was an impact in his groin and he was falling to his knees, blood pouring down his lips and chin as he stared hazily up at her, vision gray with pain.
“ Fred? Stop.” He whispered it in a drunk voice as her arm came up, prepared to slam back down onto the back of his neck, a little trick Cordy had taught her. Her arm stilled, and he registered the shock on her face even as the pain dragged him under the waves of black and empty sleep.
Fred stared down at him, one palm covering her mouth. Blood was running back up into his nose now, a disgusting flow of it. She was almost sick, felt what little she’d ate rumble up through her before she could choke it back down. Decisively she turned and started to walk quickly away, scissoring her legs as if it would get her away any faster. But she didn’t get very far before something made her turn back.
He lay there, sprawled on his back on the wet pavement - his flannel shirt sleeves were rolled up around his elbows, revealing the long scratch marks she’d left, which were welling up with blood. And then up to his pale face, the red of his blood standing out in sharp contrast, his nose crooked - turning a dark blue-ish color all ready. She realized, that if he wasn’t propped up, all the blood would run back into his throat and he could choke to death.
Carefully she leaned down and checked his pulse, just in case. She’d heard people could die from a blow to the nose. But his skin was so hot, and the pulse was steady, so she quickly took her fingers away, and lifted his head up, considering the long fall of his eyelashes against the tired circles beneath his eyes.
Her lips pursed and she craned her neck around, looking at the mouth of the alley. Her heart fought a violent war. She could leave this guy here, and have god knows what happen to him, god knew he’d kidnapped her and that was just what she SHOULD do. Or she could drag him back inside, clean him up a bit and make sure he lived a no one finished him off before she regained her freedom.
Looking back down at his face, she knew what her decision was going to be. ‘Cause no matter how much common sense dictated that she should just run and get as far away as she could, something else tugged inside her. Told her that this man was good, if misguided. And that he was only doing what any obsessed man might do in his situation. Hadn’t Angel let a killer out of a hell dimension, to save Cordelia? What was it about men and love, or whatever the heck you were supposed to call it? They seemed to lose sense of right and wrong.
So she did the most likely stupid thing, grabbed him by his ankles and grunted and groaned while dragging him inside. It was work to get him up the stair case - he was half awake, his legs barely moving as he climbed with her, his body heavy against hers, one arm draped over her shoulder, the other gripping her waist. His head leaned into her neck, and he seemed to be nudging it with his lips, but she didn’t think about it, just concentrated on getting to the top.
Finally, she was able to toss him down onto the couch. He grunted, a slight moan of pain escaping his lips. Fred stuffed a yellow stained pillow none too gently beneath his head, grimacing down at his blood covered face. She hurried over to an old sink, tested it’s novel and praised a deity when it actually worked, although it only let out a small stream of water. She grabbed a shirt off of a bag that sat on top of the counter of what appeared to be the kitchenette of a once upon a time office. She wet it before carefully wiping the traces of blood from his face.
His skin flinched, mouth gaping over in gasping breaths. She told herself not to feel guilty and pressed firm with her cleansing strokes. After all, he’d knocked her out first. He was part way awake - staring up at her through watery eyes. A tear sliding down from the corner of one eye lid, dripping across his temple and into his hair line. She was mesmerized by it.
He was mesmerized by her.
The way her hair fell in curls around her shoulders and face as she leaned over him. The thin line of her lips, her eyes that always held a startled quality about them, and a tempting type of innocence, and with her over him like that - so little space between them, her fingers touching his face - an urge rose up inside him. To just reeach out and touch her back.
To see that smile she bestowed upon her friends, the harried one that made her look a little insane and turned her pretty into dazzling.
Weak, he shuddered and she pushed his hand away when it reached out for her cheek. Frowning at him, she told him to be still or else she’d bop him again. He believed her, and almost started laughing, but it sent more shards of pain into his brain and he immediately took her advice and stilled all his muscles.
She probed carefully at his nose, it moved sickly beneath her finger. She wrinkled her nose.
“ It’s your own fault.” She muttered. “ Kidnapping me. I’m not going to feel guilty just because you haven’t hurt me. What, should I be grateful?” Whatever she said next, was lost beneath her breath. Her lips were a pale pink, and he realized how pretty they were, like little rose buds.
God, what the hell was wrong with him? It had to be the pain.
But her skin was so pale, so translucent, and damn it, he wanted to see how his hands looked on it. Even as she moved away, his searching eyes found her, the way her legs looked so soft in the light - the way her small breasts rested against the fabric of her cotton t-shirt. Lust curled its toes into his stomach, and he pressed his lips together. The physical pain of his broken nose, and the lust ripping up his gut was enough to bring him near tears.
He realized she’d left the room, and panic rose up inside him… ‘Don’t leave…’ He wanted to shout it. ‘ Not yet, just... stay a little longer.’
But she was only in the next room; she came back, the cell phone in her hand. She stood near him, watching him as she dialed familiar numbers into the ‘phone. He blinked up at her, before his hand snatched out and grabbed with surprising strengthed at her wrist. She jerked out of reach and his hand fell to the floor, fingers brushing it limply.