So today is Snow's (sweptawaybayou) birthday and those wonderful sneaky people known as lostakasha and tabaqui set up a birthday comm for her, its_snow_day. There's some GREAT contributions over there--fic, pic spam, all sorts of things. Go and take a gander.
Well, anyway, here's my contribution.
Title: Different Day
Pairing: Angelus/Lindsey, Angel/Spike
Rating: Teen, PG-13
Length: 815 words
Spoilers: post NFA
Warnings: slash, no porn (sorry!)
Disclaimer: Not mine, seriously. All belongs to Joss and ME.
Summary: Some things are worse than death. Lindsey can handle it.
When he closes his eyes, he feels rage, disappointment. Blood in his mouth.
And when he opens them, it's the same damn thing. Same shit, different day. Blood in his mouth.
"Kind of sucks to be dead, doesn't it, Linds?"
Lindsey sits up. Cold. Warehouse, he thinks. And there's Angel, all spit and polish, leaning against a post.
"You ought to know, Angel." He can't find his shirt.
Angel smiles, crouches near him. The streetlight barely touches him. "Close, but no cigar." He leans in, breathes just for the hell of it probably. "Try again."
Oh. Well, that's interesting. "Angelus."
He winks, points a finger at Lindsey and pulls the trigger. "Bingo."
This is the part where he's supposed to say 'oh no, how did this happen?' or try to run. He's been to hell and back so he's not impressed. "Where's my shirt?"
Angelus stands up and laughs. "Linds, you're killing me here. Killing me!"
Okay, so he's going to have to scrounge up a shirt from somewhere. Wherever they are, it isn't the Men's Wearhouse. "Lorne's a crap shot."
"A man's gotta delegate."
Lindsey stands up and stretches. "Some things a man should take care of himself."
Angelus only nods and walks towards him. Reaching one large hand towards Lindsey's neck, he runs a thumb along the side. "True. I've got a slightly different management style now."
That thumb just goes up and down. Almost hurts, but Lindsey shivers anyway. Damn, he's cold.
"I brought in some takeout. You better be okay with Thai," Angelus says, releasing him, walking over to the corner.
He picks up some gibbering kid, half gone and no more than fourteen. He only feels a slight pang, an echo, that he should care about this. He used to draw the line at kids. But then again, he used to have a heartbeat.
His face changes and he's hungry.
"Eat up," Angelus says. "We need to get going."
"Ahhh, this is my kind of town!" Angelus breathes in as they stroll down towards the 5. Lindsey hears gunshots and screams, smells the smoke from at least fifty fires. "What we could do with this place."
The way Lindsey sees it, the major demons have already rolled through, taken out the heavy hitters. "Nothing left but scraps."
He's bodyslammed against a brick wall, forearm against his throat. The asshole might think he's different. Lindsey knows better.
"Manners," Angelus says and leans in, whispers, "Don't turn into a liability. Please tell me you have some street smarts."
Lindsey pushes back, only slightly, feels the slow grin. "Word on the street is that you like that kind of liability."
Angelus is pressing into him now, hard. A voice in his ear. "Just because I put up with it from one doesn't mean I'll put up with it from you."
His toes return to the ground. Angelus reaches into his pocket, lights a cigarette. He lets out a stream of smoke, crisp and long, and eyes him. "Remember, you're just convenient."
Well, well, if that son of a bitch has any nerves to strike, Lindsey's just found one. "Too bad he's dead."
Now Angelus just bursts out laughing. "No, that's the thing. He's very much alive," he says. "And we're going to find him."
Lindsey snorts, puts his hands in the jacket he ripped off from a relic of a haberdashery that reeked of wool and camphor. Downtown didn't always have the best options. The shirt he could live with.
"Finding one demon in this apocalyptic haystack shouldn't be that big of a problem." Apparently death doesn't defeat a smartass. He needs to tone it down a little. Learn what he can, find his old contacts and ditch Angelus.
Shaking his head, Angelus looks at him as if he's just three kinds of fool. "Finding him should be the easy part. After all, he's only human."
Lindsey can't swallow back the laugh. "Well, you got ripped off."
He waits for the blow that never comes. "He did me a favor." Another trail of smoke and a slow smile. "So I'm going to return it."
"I don't think you need me to kill him," Lindsey says.
Angelus grinds the last of his cigarette out with his shoe. "No more delegating. Besides, killing him will only be half the fun." He pauses. "Turning him will be more than half the fun."
And the way Lindsey sees it, he partly owes Spike for his current situation. "Okay, I'm in," he says.
"Good boy." Angelus just walks away down the street, like he owns the damn place.
Lindsey follows. And it's not like he's left with nowhere to go. Plenty of opportunities, even here.
No, he owes someone else as well. It's not Angelus he needs to do business with, not by a long shot.
Angel's not getting off this easy.