BY: Ann of Midnight
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any of the shows I borrowed characters from…
SPOILERS: Post Angel season 3, Buffy season 6, and I guess, Highlander, Endgame.
RATING: HARD R
PARINGS: Angel/Methos (That means SLASH, children)
DISTRIBUTION: Let me know.
FEEDBACK: Want it.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This was written at 2 in the morning especially for the people who replied. I hope it’s coherent and you enjoy it.
We took ‘em. We really did.
There was a time when Angelus or I would have gladly bathed in blood, I remember. Now, all I wish to do is bathe, period.
I’d forgotten how human blood splatters. Our clothes are ruined, our bodies are caked in it, *it itches*. The room… well the room will never be the same. Too bad, too, the bed seemed so comfortable. I was looking forward to testing its resistance.
We took ‘em. We took out a small army. Heads crackin’ and rollin’. I completely got into it. There’s a reason I don’t like to fight; there’s a reason I stay away. I revel in it. I really, really enjoy it. I’m good at it.
Angel held back. He fought in earnest, but they kept coming. He wouldn’t kill to save his own life. He would hurt, and they would keep coming. ‘Where is Angelus?’ I kept thinking. ‘Is he in there somewhere? Because now would be a good time.’
When I saw my chance, I elbowed him in the face. Hard. I through him against the wall between attacks, held my sword to his throat and told him to wake up.
Anger. It flickered in his eyes.
Angelus is there, still part of him, ready.
I flung him back into the mix violently taking down a group.
He finally let go. Fought systematically and without fear. It was like watching a well-choreographed ballet. The man is breathtaking in the throws of a battle. I thought I heard a few spinal chords pop.
We were perfectly in tune. Perfectly in sync.
Perfectly out numbered. It became a nightmare, like fighting the clone army. They kept coming and coming and coming in waves of 12 and I hadn’t had a sodding meal in at least 10 hours.
The stun guns did us in, caught us off guard. I took three hits in the chest. As I fell, all I could think of was my sword. Bastards. I managed to fling it across the room and under the bed. I heard it lodging itself into the far wall.
I prayed the Gods I would get it back.
My heart stopped a few times, but I couldn’t wake up. When the tranquilizers were finally taken out of my chest, I turned over on my stomach so as to not give myself away. I was fully awake and fully aware. I could hear people whispering that being human, it would take me longer to regain most functions, so I took the opportunity to rest my eyes and relax. I almost fell asleep.
Angel’s waking up, I can feel him stirring. I wait for a sign. He stands up and tells whoever is in the room: “Get me Lilah.”
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I open my eyes into slivers and I can see Angel isn’t seething. It isn’t the time. He knows, he remembers. He’s all confidence and cave-man stance. Whoever occupies the room with us doesn’t say a thing, but I can bet someone’s scrambling to do as he asked. He stands there, feet slightly apart, shirtless, covered in dried blood and through all that hair he commands respect. My earlier erection is painful and I try not to stare. I hope I’m not drooling.
______________________________
He doesn’t move for an hour.
I hear the sound of a heavy door again and heels loudly clicking on the floor.
A woman greets him, trying to sound nonchalant while walking up to him. Close, but not too close. She’s had practice.
“Lilah.”
“How do you like your new accommodations?”
“The couch clashes with my shoes.”
“Perfect.”
“You wanna tell me what I’m doing here?” he asks, and I miss his accent.
“Waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“Come on Angel, why would I give that away? The anticipation is half the fun now, isn’t it?”
“Where’s Cordelia?”
“Oh, you haven’t heard? You would be so proud of her. She passed.”
“Passed what?” He gritted his teeth, in a don’t-make-me-ask-again manner.
“She’s a Power now. They had a few vacancies to fill and they couldn’t wait any longer, not too many righteous around tough enough for the job, I guess. Looks like that means you’re down a seer… or so we heard through the grape vine. She gave everything up for you, and left you at the most inopportune moment. Ain’t nobility a bitch?”
“You’re a bitch, Lilah.”
“And your point is?” She responds predictably.
“Fred and Gunn?”
“They looked. Oh, they looked for you, don’t you worry. They looked for everyone. They’re on their way to Vegas to find that horny gay empathy demon you like to call Lorne. They won’t be back in time.” The woman stops talking and looks down, across the room at me. It’s not my fault I’m smiling. She said horny gay demon and it caught me off guard. I mumble something unintelligible like I’m having a good dream before waking up and I turn my head away.
“What about Connor?” Angel inquires, and I can hear he’s barely keeping it together. ‘Hold on’, I think. For a person who said she wouldn’t reveal anything she sure is giving us a lot of information. On the off chance she’s not lying through her teeth, it could be an asset.
“He’s great. You know, we’ve been watching him. He’ll be a major player, that one. It seems like it was just yesterday we saw him go through that portal,” she says with mock nostalgia.
Angel roars.
“Easy there big guy. Keep your strength. No food for you, except for your friend here. How long do you think it’ll be before you’re tearing him open to get to that last drop?”
“Care to make a wager?”
“Ah, Angel, Angel, Angel. I think I’m going to miss you.”
“I miss Lindsay.” Angel smirks, and gets himself slapped across the face. The sound rebounds off the walls around us. Seems little-miss tight suit isn’t quite as in control as she would like to be. For all her confidence, I can smell the wishful thinking.
