Lindsey McDonald

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 17:43:50 GMT

Lindsey had been pacing the hotel room for hours. Guitar hadn't calmed him down, he couldn't go hunting yet, not trusting himself to feed without Phae there to curb his hunger. So he was stuck here, promising to keep out the way like a good little girl.

"Fuck this shit," he muttered, jamming his hat on - screw what Spike or Gunn or any of the rest of 'em said - and marching out the hotel room. Let's see how good his senses had gotten, see if he could find his girl.

You out there, darlin'?

[after meeting with Anita, for Phaedra.]

Phaedra had gotten exactly five blocks from the bar, and from parting ways with Anita.

Not a single step over that. Five blocks.

A thought popped into her head, and it wasn't hers. This still took her by surprise; before, when this had happened, when Lindsey was human, it'd been different.

His thoughts had not sought her out; she'd just overheard them all, and he'd taken advantage of that and intentionally thought things for her TO overhear.

She smiled slightly and stopped in her tracks for a minute, crossing her arms.

Can you think of a reason I would NOT be, ves'tacha? she answered.

A slow grin spread across Lindsey's face as she answered, a slight tug in his mind leading him left instead of right, down the street towards the feel of her mind.

Only one, but I'd need to be there... he drawled, smirking audibly, then laughing out loud as a woman eyed him and blushed, her thoughts a whirl as to what had put that expression on his face.

Oh, boy.

The slight smile became a grin. A man standing to the left of the vampiress nodded and grinned back at her, completely misconstruing the expression, and Phaedra started walking again.

Six blocks.

That's quite a lot of self-confidence. Both eyebrows raised with the thought, and she could almost see Lindsey's smirking face in front of her. Phaedra bit her lip. Can you find a moving target?

She paused, tilting her head at no one, just at the empty street and the thought. Or do I need to stay still?

Lindsey paused in turn, laughing softly. He blinked a bit, still not quite used to the difference in sound, the musical quality that had the blushing woman almost stumbling, face an even brighter shade of red.

Ain't nowhere you can run I won't find you, he promised, only half in jest. He sped his steps, easily weaving his way through the crowd, dead heart racing nonetheless as he began to run. It almost needed a capital letter, so different from the way he'd run as a human, sweating, gasping, face red, shaky legs pounding over pavement. Now his steps flowed, his body knifing through the air.

Phaedra sighed. So much confidence. She half wanted to smack it out of him. The other half was glad for it. She didn't have her confidence when she was so young. She had... fear. A big fat helping of it.

That sounded sort of like a dare, Phaedra answered, the smirk coming back to her mouth. She'd made him chase her once. The memory of that crawled up the base of her spine and into her neck and shoulders, and it was a more than pleasant feeling. She wondered if Lindsey could hear those thoughts, too.

How about this time... you just find me, she said, leaning her slender body against the brick building behind her, right shoulder to the wall, hair falling forward. I've... had a long, long night.

Started with the portal. Then there was getting rid of Sean Mullen's corpse. Then there were drinks. Now....

Now she would just wait.

Lindsey could hear those thoughts just fine. Slow smirk spread across his face once more, one hand reaching up to re-settle the cowboy hat on his head.

Reckon I can do that. His voice was soft, though he was moving more quickly now, running towards her voice in his head.

Be there in a sec, darlin'. Just hold on. The tone of her thoughts worried him, a little - she sounded tired. But maybe he could help with that.

Hold on. She licked her lower lip.

I can practically feel you worrying about me, Phaedra said. Stop it. I'm tired, yes, but I'll live. Always do.

Part of her wondered when they'd reached a point where worrying about the other became normal. When exactly had that happened?

She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember what had done it, only that whatever had triggered it was so far back now Phaedra couldn't remember a time without that worry.

I'll help you forget, babe, Lindsey promised, trying to push down his own worry. He rounded a corner, grin melting into a softer smile as he saw her.

"Hey, you," he whispered, knowing she'd hear him fine. His steps slowed until he was moving through the people around them at close to a 'normal' pace, though it was still more fluid, easier, than anyone around them.

Apparently, three in the morning was a fine time for this part of town to see pedestrian traffic. Phaedra was oblivious to that, completely. She had her corner of the wall, and she was fine where she was.

Hey you. Phaedra turned and looked over her shoulder, eyes settling on the cowboy sidling up to her with a slight smile.

"Not only can you find me," she said, eyebrow raising, "you can come from the complete opposite direction and sneak up on me. This is not fair."

"What can I say, it's a gift." He grinned, one arm sliding easily around her waist, tugging her close. He tipped his hat back a little on his head, lowering his mouth to hers and kissing her slowly, sweetly.

Damn, missed this... The kiss didn't stay sweet for long, not with the way Lindsey was backing her up against the wall, one hand flat against the bricks beside her shoulder, mouth hungry for more.

Having someone kiss the anger out of her was new to Phaedra. And what was she angry about, exactly? Lindsey having it easier as a fledgeling than she had? The whole damn vampire WORLD had had it easier than she had.

Didn't matter. She was being kissed; her mind cleared of pretty much everything else.

Missed this? You saw me yesterday...

Phaedra's back hit the wall. Instead of fighting him, at all, her hands wound around Lindsey's neck.

Don't mean I didn't miss it, he pointed out, his voice a low purr as he pushed her against the wall with hips and hands, one knee sliding between hers, nudging closer, kiss bruisingly sweet.

Phaedra's back flattened against the building behind her, completely. There had been space there, a second ago. It was gone now.

Kissing had gotten a lot more interesting since neither of them needed to breathe anymore.

One of Phaedra's hands curled into Lindsey's hair and pulled slightly, before pulling back from the kiss to actually speak.

"How close are you planning on getting?" Her eyebrow rose and fell, like punctuation for the sentence, and Phaedra smiled.

Lindsey smirked, pink tongue flicking out across his lower lip as he thought of an image, so clear and so vivid that he could practically feel the slide of bare skin against his.

That'd do for a start, I guess... he kissed her again rather than answer out loud, hands sliding up her sides, over the curves of her breasts, across her shoulders until slender fingers tangled in her hair. He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing the soft skin of her cheeks, back and forth, never breaking the kiss.

The thought did its job, but probably not as well as Lindsey would've liked. Phaedra's knees didn't buckle, and she didn't slide down the wall. But it did warm her up, in as much as a though can warm any vampire of her age and strength.

You have a good memory.

She raised her chin slightly as Lindsey's hands moved over her and sighed at the movement of his fingers on her cheeks.

Phaedra pulled at the hem of Lindsey's shirt and worked her hand under it, sliding it up the front and over his chest.

Lindsey shivered gently, soft groan in his throat as he arched against her hand.

Memory's gonna have to do right now, darlin'. I ain't fed yet. That had to be pretty much the most annoying thing about being a vampire. No matter how in the mood he was...couldn't feel the blood rushing south if there was no blood to do the rushing.

Phaedra bit her lip and smiled.

"That's killing you, huh?" There was a playful laugh. She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss, a brush of lips.

"Alright. Then let's feed you. Come on."

She nodded her head to the left and tilted her neck, looking up at Lindsey through dark hair.

Lindsey groaned softly, hips hitching forward reflexively, gums itching as his fangs lengthened, whole body aching for blood. For her. One hand cupped her neck, supporting her head as the other held her shoulder, stretching out the pale length of her neck, baring her skin to his mouth. He kissed her throat softly, feeling the blood under cool skin, gently biting down, a wobbly moan bursting free as he began to feed.

[ooc: I know this one's still in progress, if you want me to repost it in the main comm, let me know, love. ]

Sittin' in a bar, drownin' my sorrows.

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 17:27:25 GMT

So, this sucked. But after all the shit had gone down with Tara, Phaedra had been rather specific on Lindsey staying the fuck out of the way. And while his new vampire powers made him want to join in, prove that he was stronger, faster...Saerian gave him the heebie jeebies.

So here he was, cooling his heels in Willy's bar, now closed. And he couldn't even get drunk.

"Ten bottles of O-neg, sitting on a wall..."

Cavan wandered the night, bored. After that show he got at the PTA meeting, nothing seemed very exciting. And she'd run off so fast (really, there had been no way to follow, it was fantastically unnatural) that he'd been left standing around watching people cry.

Which was extremely dull.

He had nobody to kill, either. Which made the night even more dull.

As he walked, he passed an abandoned building, considering that it might make a good fire, but stopped. He moved closer to the busted in door and listened.

Was that singing?

What kind of song was that? The tune seemed familiar, but the words were not.

Cavan slipped into the building quietly, trying to find the source.

Unfortunately for Cavan, quiet wasn't enough. God, Lindsey loved vamp hearing. And sight. And, heh, stamina. Pretty much everything except the fact that he couldn't get drunk.

Unless he drank from someone that was wasted, of course.

Lindsey turned his head towards the noise, still singing softly as his eyes narrowed, wicked smirk creeping across his face.

The place was certainly empty. It didn't look to Cavan that there had been any good times within this bar for a good long span.

But there was actually singing. He heard it. He knew it was there. He wasn't just hallucinating.

Cavan moved as quietly as he could, peering behind things. The singing was creepy, but he couldn't determine just yet if it was a good creepy or a bad one. Maybe once he'd met the singer he'd be able to decide.

Well, enough of this sneaking. Nobody was here but him and the mystery balladeer.

"Hello?" Cavan called out. There. Now they would know he was here.

Lindsey stood up from where he'd been sitting behind the bar, legs out in front of him, bottle of Jack in his hand.

"Hey," he called out, grinning in the darkness, light glinting off extremely sharp canines. He still hadn't got the hang of hiding those.

Cavan stopped and looked at the guy. Took note of the fangs.

That was two.

"Oh, I get it now."

Haha. That was so clever. Only not really.

"I suppose it would be stupid of me to ask what the hell you're doing behind the bar of a closed place singing about blood."

"Hm? Oh, you can ask," Lindsey smirked. "Don't mean I'm gonna tell you." For all that he sounds like a slow yokel with his lazy Oklahoma drawl, Lindsey's eyes are sharp and piercing, even in this low light.

"What you doin' in here, anyhow?"

"Oh haha." Cavan rolled his eyes. So clever. Weren't vampires supposed to be smarter than that? Like, more interesting. And not punny?

"I was bored. So I took a walk. There was a building with a guy singing inside of it. The rest is history, really."

He looked around at everything. There seemed to be an extra thick layer of dust over every surface. Gross.

"You been readin' too many Anne Rice books." He grinned. Not that there weren't vampires out there who lived up to the image - coughLestatcough - but he wasn't one of 'em. Mind you, wasn't like he wasn't interesting; if Cavan were to see the closed circuit video of the bar, he'd be looking at him in a room, alone.

"Bored in Sunnydale, though? Gotta be a first." Hello, sarcasm, my old friend.

"I moved down here expecting exciting things at every turn. Kinda had it on my first day, and there have been things here and there, but it's nothing as bad as the newspapers and web articles made it out to be."

He gave a little shrug.

Maybe he should be talking so nonchalantly with a vampire, but in the end, it didn't really matter to him.

And since Lindsey wasn't likely to take a bite out of him - unless he asked very nicely - there was no problem.

"So...you moved here because of the press?" That was a new one. Most people here seemed oblivious to everything oogy and indeed boogy that went on.

"Yeah." Cavan nodded and leaned against something that might once have been a bar bench. Now it was so coated with dust it might have been a moose and he would have never known until it gored him.

"I saw one article, and then went looking for others. By the end, I'd decided I wanted to live here. I saved a bit and then moved."

It sounded easier saying it than it had been.

Lindsey looked at him as if he were crazy. Which, come to think of it, he probably was. Reaching down behind the bar, he pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels, waggling it at the guy.

"Drink?"

"I'm only seventeen." Though, as he said it, Cavan realized that might not matter to this guy. Still, he'd never gotten drunk. Rules and all that.

Once you killed the neighbor boy, your parents made sure you followed all the rules all the time.

He looked at the bottle.

If the guy still offered it after that, maybe he'd have his first real taste of alcohol.

Lindsey looked at the bottle, then at Cavan. And picked up the surface thoughts.

Murderer. Greeeaaaaat. Just what he needed. He shrugged, pouring two glasses.

"You're old enough to kill a guy, figure you're old enough for a drink." He slid the glass across the bar.

That was curious. Either it was a mighty coincidence, or the guy had some idea of how to read minds.

Cavan wasn't entirely sure he liked that.

But what the hell, right? If the guy could read minds, he'd still passed over some alcohol, and was still standing there, not attacking, not running off.

Good signs?

Didn't matter.

He lifted the glass to his lips and took his first taste of alcohol. It burned all the way down his throat and into his belly. It was all he could do to keep from coughing.

"Interesting."

He tried again. It went down better this time. Easier. It was better than interesting, Cavan supposed.

By the time the glass was finished, he was already feeling a little bit light headed. Which, he guessed, was supposed to happen.

Lindsey chuckled, picking up the slight haze to Cavan's thoughts.

So, of course, he poured the boy another drink.

"Interestin's a word for it." Phaedra would probably kill him when she found out he was getting minors drunk. But meh. It was fun.

Park Memories

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 20:18:08 GMT

Tara found herself wandering back to a familiar place. Familiar for one of the two demons within the witch. Her innocent eyes had a twinge of malice behind them as she looked around the familiar area that held memories. She stood in the middle of a clearing within the park where recent events had happened.

Tara all but floated along the clearing, lighting up another cigarette while doing so. She held up the lighter and flicked it on and off, staring at the flame. Her free hand lifted up and she wiggled her fingers slightly.

The flame grew and grew, the reflection dancing off her pupils.

She drew back her hand then flung it forward.

The flame came off and took off as if shot by a canon, landing in a nearby bush and engulfing it with the blaze. Tara laughed. "This is too good," she murmured, looking at her hand. "The power is enormous."

Phaedra and Lindsey were getting away from Willy's Place. At an almost human pace.

She didn't realize it, but the vampiress was walking them right past that park that held so many memories for them both.

Where they met. Where Saerian lit her up like a torch. Where they fought. Where Lindsey died.

Her eyebrow arched.

Thoughts were here... and they were... they made no sense. Unless thoughts could linger like memories.

"Ves'tacha," she said, raising green eyes that were bleeding to a supernatural shade to Lindsey, "do you feel that?"

Lindsey had already taken an (unneccessary) shaky breath, his eyes wide with confusion. He nodded,once, stiffly, his jaw set.

"Yeah, darlin'. I...what the hell?" He frowned, the sensation tugging at some deep, dark corner of his brain, recognising it but unable to put a name to it.

He looked over to the park, already moving towards the wall, ready to leap over it and see what was going on.

Tara watched as the fire died down as she glanced over her shoulder, peering around. There was a presence here. She grinned. It was a strong presence - a familiar one.

She saw a bench not too far away and sat down, almost patiently. She knew they would be here soon; that's when the fun would begin.

Lindsey vaulted the wall smoothly, dropping to his haunches for a moment on the other side, then straightening up. He spotted a figure far away on a bench.

Not a bench. The bench. He took a step closer, then visibly faltered as a wave of nausea hit him. No. No, no, no, no...

"Saerian..." He hissed, lips twisting into a snarl.

"Saerian?" Tara asked, a cold smile on her lips. She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I think you might have the wrong girl." She leaned back and observed the newly formed vampire. "I sense change in you. A big, cold change."

She narrowed her eyes, her manner still very relaxed. "How did that go for you, hm?"

Phaedra hopped over the wall right behind Lindsey, and the second she did it, she shook her head. Over and over and over.

She didn't move. Couldn't. Everything went cold.

"Lindsey... step back," she managed.

Green eyes that head bled to a supernatural brightness turned to Tara.

"I always had my suspicions that you were a bitch," Phaedra said. The delivery was utterly emotionless. "Seems I was right."

"I don't even know you," Tara said, sweetly. "I'm hurt that you're calling me a 'bitch.'" She gestured to her innocent dress - typical Tara outfit. Long skirt. "Do I look like a bitch to you? I'm all nice and innocent."

She thrust her hand forward, causing a blaze of fire rising up from the ground. "And powerful."

Not. Again.

She thought of the fireball. And lying in the middle of it. It had been a lie then, a rouse, to get Phaedra in the right spot. And it was a lie now.

The vampire narrowed her eyes. "You just keep getting prettier," she said, sighing. Phaedra was beyond angry. "Your first face was dreadful compared to this. And Sean?" She laughed. "You picked him for me. I know you did."

She waited a beat, and she wasn't sure if she was glad Lindsey was there or petrified because of it.

"Who did you pick her for? Yourself?"

Tara shrugged. "She was the nearest thing," she answered with a shrug, watching the blaze dance in front of Phaedra. It was real fire, the elements being manipulated by the powers within this witch. "But it's more than that, actually. It's about power, Phaedra. Always about power. And this body has so much untapped potential in it - you'd be amazed."

She smiled coldly. "You don't have any attachment to this body," she declared. "Not like that body." She nodded towards Lindsey. "Which makes this all the better."

The nearest thing.

Li'sa'eer, you have absolutely no emotions of any kind at all, have you?

"I'd be amazed," Phaedra repeated, crossing her arms over her chest, watching Lindsey out of the corner of her eye. He was giving off a faint pulse of terror, and she wished he'd stop. She tilted her head, looking Tara over. Tara's body, at any rate. "No. I really wouldn't. I knew she was powerful when she shoved you into that box."

She smiled evilly.

The nod at Lindsey made something inside her run cold, and she was back to start. Not that long ago, though it seemed like forever now, she'd stood in this park and fought herself. Quite literally. Twice. Once to keep herself from caring for anyone--and she'd fallen for Lindsey just the same. Another time to keep from losing her mind after Saerian took her over and had her slice open the object of her affection.

"Is there a particular reason you can't leave other people out of this?" she growled.

"Did I hit a nerve?" Tara asked, raising her brows her smile widening at the reaction she got from the vampiress. The blaze dissipated, leaving them back in the cold darkness of the abandoned park.

"Is there a partciular reason you CARE if I bring other people into this? This game, we're playing, Phaedra." Tara indicated the area around them. "So full of great memories here." She blue eyes grew gray suddenly, narrowing at Phaedra. "Yes, this body shoved me into that box. So part of this is revenge for doing such a thing and thinking it'll hold."

She began walking slowly in a circle around the two vampires. "You see, this body hold secrets. The shell is weak but the chewy center is powerful. It's the best kind." Her hand shot up and a bolt of lightning flashed down from the atmosphere, hitting in between the two.

Lindsey suppressed a yelp, managing not to leap to the side as lightning hit the ground between them. She - he was powerful, and fucking terrifying. And yeah, he wasn't ashamed to admit it (couldn't hide it, in any case).

"So, what do you want this time? World domination? More power? Thinner thighs?" He arched an eyebrow, folding his arms.

Phaedra's jaw was locked. She felt the muscles tensed and waiting, as though part of her (no doubt the supernatural part) thought she would spring herself on Tara and rip her throat out at any moment.

She didn't jump at the lightning. And she was surprised she didn't.

"Of course I care," she whispered. "I didn't let you harm innocent bystanders 300 years ago, just like I'm not going to let you do it now. You have a problem with me, you deal with me." An eyebrow arched, and Phaedra's face softened. "Unless you really do want something else. Other than just revenge. That'd be new for you."

She didn't care anymore how she talked to Saerian. Not in the least. What would happen was what would happen. Period.

Tara glanced down at herself at Lindsey's remark. "I probably should kill you for talking about my thighs," she remarked with a lift of her brow. "But that would be too easy. I like things to last. If it be 300 years, then so be it 300 years."

The half-smirk appeared on Tara's lips as she stopped in front of Phaedra again. "Do I want anything else but revenge?" She curled her fingers slightly, green energy making it glow. "Yes. And it looks like I have it." Her eyes wandered back to the vampire.

"Although, while I have you here, what do you know about the red witch?" she asked. "In fact, what do you know about this witch?"

Yeah, because Lindsey was gonna tell Saerian anything about anything. He folded his arms, standing behind Phaedra. He had plenty of problems with Saerian, but they paled in significance to Phaedra's history with the mick bastard.

"Coulda shoulda woulda," Phaedra said. Her jaw was almost clenched now. She didn't even think the warning at Lindsey for him to NOT bait Saerian by calling him a mick or a bastard.

Tara... or the thing inside of Tara, rolled her eyes as if bored.

Nothing is going to happen here, Phaedra said silently, unless you have grown a spine in the last few days and plan on ending my life or his. We aren't telling you anything about her.

Were her heart capable of pounding, it would have been thudding. The face was all wrong, but the power...

Tara shrugged and walked away. The thought that floated back to Phaedra was simple, and pure Saerian...

Oh. Fucking. Well. Watch me cry about it.

She turned to Lindsey and nodded her head for them to keep moving. This park was not somewhere she ever wanted to be again.

Lindsey was fucking fine with that.

Once they were out of earshot - mindshot, whatever - he asked quietly, "what we gonna do, darlin'?"

He had it comin'

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 20:06:30 GMT

Gretchen didn't blink.

She had been following someone, a very specific someone. Someone who she knew had helped Anita Blake. Just thinking the name made her pretty face scowl.

Willy didn't really have a chance. He always had kind of sucked at being a snitch.

She didn't blink when she cornered Willy behind his own bar, baring her fangs.
She didn't blink when he tried bargaining with her, offering her information.
She didn't blink when biting his jugular spattered blood across her face.

She only blinked on her way out of the bar, and a smile crossed her face. Gretchen wasn't big on motivation; hurting Anita was usually enough.

And this had just been fun.

Willy the Snitch lay behind what had been his bar, bloodless and lifeless, and Gretchen laughed as she went back out into the night.

Lindsey was whistling quietly to himself as he walked into the bar, proud of the results of his first night hunting alone; three snacks, three dazed Sunnydale inhabitants walking around. The bar was empty; unusual, but not unheard of, with no sign of Phae.

No sign of Willy, either. That...that was more unusual. The scent of blood hit Lindsey straight away. Blood was served at Willy's, but this was fresh. This was...

"Fuck." Lindsey stared at Willy over the bar. Sliding his cell out of his pocket, he dialed Phaedra.

"Darlin'....we got a problem." He had to get out of there. Now, before someone saw him. Praising the tattoos which would hide him from the CCTV - if Willy even had it - he ducked into the back room of the bar, hiding in the shadows.

I see a red door and I want it painted blaaaaaaaaaaaack...

Phaedra slid the phone out of her back pocket, snapping it open. The ring got a smile out of a man walking by, and a train of thought about how no one appreciated good music anymore. She smirked.

She was never one to answer the phone with a polite 'hello.' Eyebrow arching, she gave her clinical, detached, typical answer to the phone ring:

"Romani."

She heard Lindsey's voice, and backed away from the pedestrians, toward a storefront. ... got a problem...

"Where are you? What happened?"

She remembered their plan-- to let Lindsey hunt on his own and meet up at the bar after-- but that didn't mean something hadn't gone wrong. Her voice was close to shaking with worry.

"Willy's dead." Lindsey never was one for mincing his words when there was trouble.

"I just got here, and the bar's empty, and he's dead." He glanced over to the body. "Lotta blood." His voice was a little thick, brow furrowed as he tried to think above the bloodlust. He was lucky he'd fed well tonight; otherwise he'd be on his hands and knees, lapping up the puddle.

Phaedra's face went blank. To anyone passing by, she would resemble a statue, part of the wall she was leaning on.

She wasn't entirely shocked. There was that whole thing about him being Willy... and occupational hazards being what they were...

She ran a hand through her dark hair, setting her jaw.

It was late. Too late, probably for new patrons. "Coming," she said. Before snapping the phone shut, she thought of something else. "Shut the door, ves'tacha. Put up the closed sign."

She tucked the phone into her back pocket, and ran.

" 'kay." Lindsey pressed the end call button, sliding his phone back into his pants. He walked to the front door, quickly closed and locked it, flipping the sign to closed. He pulled the shades down for good measure, turning to look over the bar.

God, he needed a drink...stepping around Willy and his puddle-o-blood, he grabbed a bottle of bourbon off the shelf, twisting the cap off and pouring a good third of the bottle down his throat.

After three hundred years, she'd gotten really good at dodging people while running at faster-than-human speed.

It only took Phaedra about five minutes to get there. Town wasn't that big.

She went around the back of the bar and came in the door there, locking it behind her.

Immediately she smelled blood. Her nostrils flared.

And there was Lindsey, behind the bar, guzzling alcohol. Phaedra cleared her throat, crossing her arms.

Lindsey looked up, and offered her the bottle, swinging his legs a little.

"I didn't do it," he blurted out, shrugging. "I just got here, and..." he waved at the body on the floor.

Phaedra glared at him, repressing a smirk.

"I know you didn't do it," she said, both eyebrows raising. Phaedra sighed. I can hear your thoughts, of course you didn't do it.

She took a few steps forward, eyebrows knitting together, and peered over the counter where Lindsey sat, onto the floor.

Then she swore, quite a lot, in Roma.

She took the bottle from Lindsey, took one drink, and handed it back.

"Shit."

"Yeah." He nodded, taking the bottle back. "Anybody you know got a grudge against this guy?" He gestured to Willy with the bottle, still kicking his heels against the bar. It had been a messy kill - Lindsey could tell that, even through the dried and drying blood.

"Better question," Phaedra said, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Anybody we know NOT got a grudge against this guy?"

She sighed. "Alright," she said, taking off her leather jacket and setting it on the bar. For once, her arms were bare underneath, bare and pale. Try not to kick me, she said, moving toward Willy's corpse.

"Time to do something constructive," she said, kneeling next to the body.

Lindsey arched an eyebrow, watching as she knelt down beside Willy's body. He stilled his feet, fingers tapping a rhythm on the bottle, his gaze sliding down the curve of her arm, pale skin not a sight he was used to seeing outside the bedroom.

Or, you know, wherever they got naked.

There were all those sayings about 'it takes one to know one.' They were all true.

Phaedra was a killer.

She knew killers. Especially vampires.

She raised an eyebrow at Lindsey's thoughts, and winked at him, turning her attention back to Willy.

There was too much blood here for the blood to be accidental. Someone wanted this sloppy. Her eyebrows furrowed again. Willy's blood was cold, she could tell from the smell. She tilted her head, inspecting his neck without touching it, getting as close to it as she could.

Puncture wounds.

"When did you get here, Lindsey?"

Lindsey shrugged, watching as her eyes turned cold, professional killer pushing out the Phaedra he knew.

" 'bout two minutes before I called you," he pulled out his phone, checking the time. He rubbed the back of his neck, uneasy around death despite who - what - he was now.

Relax, ves'tacha.

She could all but feel his muscles tensing.

"No other vampires around, that you saw?" Her eyebrow raised, and she narrowed green eyes at the wounds.

They weren't the same as the type her teeth made, that much she knew. But other than that, take a guess. She knew there were vampires capable of killing with venom, but that took days. So this couldn't be the work of a vamp like that.

Whatever had done this, she reasoned, had fed. Messily, but feeding had been the main goal. The jugular was ripped open, which was one of the messiest kills here was.

He shook his head.

"Not that I could see." He shrugged. "Unless they were old, I guess." He wrinkled his nose a little as she looked more closely at Willy's body, bored and a little hungry and yeah, a little nauseated by the fact that the guy had his fucking throat ripped out.

She raised her eyes to his, and gave him a weak smile.

"Not very old," she mused. "This is careless. Fast."

Phaedra got to her feet, managing not to slip in the mess of blood that was Willy the Snitch. "We have a few options here. None of them are very much fun."

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?" He drawled, sliding off the counter, onto the side without blood every-damn-where.

"And here I thought gory death always ended in fun..."

Phaedra glared at him, biting her lip to keep from smirking.

"One," she began, walking around the counter to Lindsey's side, "we get him out of here. Clean the place up." I do not like this particular option...

She let her eyebrow fall, watching his face. "Two, we call Anita. Or Buffy. Though really they seem to have bigger problems right now."

Phaedra sighed. "Three. We leave. Just leave it. The way it is. And figure out who did this."

Now she was smirking. "Four-- we call the police. "

Let's see how well you know me if you think I'm going for option four...

Lindsey snorted.

"I vote two or three." I ain't that dumb, darlin', he arched an eyebrow at her, practically rolling his eyes.

"Though if we just leave it, police are gonna find it anyhow; and my fingerprints are all over the damn place."

Phaedra smiled at him. It didn't seem right to be smiling at Lindsey with a body behind her, but really, back in New York, she did this sort of thing all the time.

"Well why did you *touch* everything?" she asked, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Didn't they give you any crime scene training at that firm?"

She shook her head, beginning to reach for her cell phone. "Preference?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Though the cops will find out, one way or another...

He rolled his eyes.

"Because I came in here before I realised he was dead. Oh yeah, and maybe because I'm dead too?"

Ok, it was actually because he was too busy going, "holy shit, he's dead," and trying not to drop to his knees and lap up the blood. Was still fighting the urge to do that, as a matter of fact.

Phaedra glared at him.

"You are *so* lucky I love you," she muttered, pulling the phone out of her pocket.

She was aware, exactly, of how Lindsey felt. How hard it was for him to be near this much blood. She had to get him out of here before he had a problem. He was too new for something like this, too little self-control.

She raised green eyes to Lindsey as she dialed Buffy's phone number, running a hand through her hair.

Voicemail. Phaedra groaned.

"I know." He grinned, sliding off the bar. He was still too close to the blood, his eyes starting to bleed to green the longer he sat there. He paced the length of the bar like a caged animal, against the wall, rolling his neck on his shoulders as if trying to work out a kink. Even having fed well, he was too new for this.

"Buffy."

She made the word a statement, not a question.

"There's something you and I should talk about. Please call me back. I think we have a new problem."

Phaedra hung up, and walked over to Lindsey, grabbing his hand in hers. It occurred to her that she probably hadn't held his hand before. Huh.

She pulled him with her, and turned them around to leave through the back.

We're getting you out of here, right now, she told him silently, blinking green eyes at him. And his were bleeding to that color that meant bloodlust.

Phaedra pulled the doorknob for the backdoor open and then kicked it flat to the wall.

"Sorry," she said, smirking. "I'm a little on edge."

"Yeah, I can see that..." Lindsey murmured, blinking at their joined hands and following her obediently. Now that they were in the fresh air (well, 'fresh' was a relative term; eau de dumpster was the flavour of the night in this particular alleyway) the haze of bloodlust was fading, Lindsey able to think a little clearer now.

"Hey, can I go kick Spike's ass now?" He grinned.

Phaedra arched an eyebrow.

"Got a reason, or just... some serious pent up aggression toward him?"

She sighed, and dropped Lindsey's hand. Both of her own hands ran through her hair immediately, one on each side of her head.

The situation was seriously not good. It seemed to Phaedra that lately most of her life was seriously not good.

She smiled at Lindsey. "Cops are going to come. We should get out of here, ves'tacha."

The Huntress gives a lesson

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 18:55:42 GMT

As soon as the sun set, her green eyes opened. Phaedra blinked, and yawned. She felt... more than a little groggy. It took a solid minute for her to register everything--that she'd been under someone else's control a day ago, that Lindsey had, in fact, been changed...

.... that he was lying in bed next to her, one arm around her waist.

Pushing strands of dark hair out of her face, Phaedra turned, watching Lindsey, who was not yet awake.

This was it, she thought. This was when she was really going to see what they were both made of.

She was going to teach him how to feed, how to really be a vampire.

"Ves'tacha," she whispered, planting a butterfly kiss on his forehead, "what am I going to do with you?"

Slowly Lindsey drew back from that utter stillness, warmth creeping into his skin, seeming softer as he awoke. Bleary eyes slowly opened, Lindsey peering at Phaedra through lowered lashes.

"M'sure I c'n think of a few, you gimme a sec to wake up..." He murmured, smiling at her.

Phaedra smiled, sitting up and leaning over Lindsey. His voice was thick with sleep, and it seemed unfair. Why were men always cuter when they were sleepy?

She'd told him the night before that the sleep... the death, really... wasn't as bad as it sounded, or as it looked. She hoped she was right.

She asked him, in Roma, how he'd slept, without speaking. He'd understand her, she was sure. It was only four words. And behind them, she pushed the English equivalent. Telepathy was a wonderful thing.

Good. He answered her in English, not knowing enough of her language to speak it, even in their minds. Don't remember much of it.

He rolled onto his back, stretching more out of habit than anything else, looking out the window. Has it been dark long?

Phaedra nodded. She rarely remembered her dreams, but sometimes she did, and then they were exceptionally vivid.

Not so bad, right?

She smiled down at him. The sun set two minutes ago. An eyebrow arched. Part of her was still not believing all of this.

"Vhat do you vant to do tonight?" Her accent was thick, likely because she'd spoken to Lindsey, even though it was in her head, in Roma. It thickened, she thought, without reason sometimes.

Lindsey grinned back, the expression turning more than a little wicked as she asked him a question. Biting his lip, he flashed a mental image at her, his hand idly sliding down his chest.

Of course, they'd have to get up at some point. But hey, he had time to make up for.

Phaedra raised both eyebrows. "You're trouble," she said, conscious that her eyes were bleeding to otherworldly green again.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Phaedra knew that no one image or action should be able to make her knees go weak. The smirk she gave him was not entirely kind. She leaned back, so she was lying next to him, and rested a kiss on the inside of his neck.

You didn't entirely answer the question.

"You love it." Lindsey grinned, the expression utterly smug. He knew what effect he had on her. And he loved every moment of it.

Damn, was hopin' you wouldn't notice... He screwed up his face, nose wrinkled. But he'd have to feed, sometime.

And hunting, with her? Was gonna be all kinds of fun.

In response to the smugness, Phaedra let her fangs scrape Lindsey's throat. She had an effect on him, too. And she knew it.

She sat up, propping herself up on one elbow, looking at him. "Didn't say otherwise," she said, biting gently at her lower lip.

You're going to have to hunt sometime. The sooner you get used to it the better. It's the hardest part of... of being.

She extended her hand, tangling it with Lindsey's. "You ready for this, ves'tacha?"

Lindsey rolled smoothly out of bed, pulling her to her feet with him.

"Ready as I'll ever be." He grinned, practically bouncing, eager now he was awake. And God, hungry. He licked his lips, fangs glinting, not able to hide them yet the way Phaedra could.

Her eyebrow arched reflexively. Lindsey had fangs. Phaedra was still not used to this.

But she was gonna have to get used to it, and fast. She was going to be responsible for teaching him how to survive. For teaching him how to be a monster... without actually being a monster.

She smiled, just slightly. "Then we need to get dressed."

Lindsey grabbed his jeans from the night before, and his shirt, dressing quickly and practically hopping from foot to foot.

Yeah, he was really hungry.

"We ready?" He kissed her, again, just because he could, because she was there, and safe, and so was he.

Phaedra laughed. She was only halfway to the closet, and he was already dressed.

"Slow down, cowboy," she said, taking jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt out of the closet. She pulled them both on, watching him.

You might want to rethink that shirt, she shot him, eyeing the blood on it and the holes in it. That was the shirt he'd been stabbed in. Not a good idea.

She sat back down on the bed, pulling on high-heeled boots, and eyed the skirt and revealing shirt that lay crumpled on the floor. She wished-- and this was the only time she had-- that she had the ability to light it on fire with her mind.

Instead, she picked both up, tossing them in the bathroom garbage can, shredding the fabric in her hands as she went.

Lindsey looked down, and grimaced.

"Oh yeah..." He ripped it off, walking through to the bathroom and tossing the shirt in the bin with the clothes he'd ripped off Phaedra last night.

I don't have another shirt...Can we swing by my motel? Might as well grab the rest of his stuff then, as well; it wasn't like he was planning on spending any time away from her from now on.

Phaedra shook her head at him, then stood and went back to the closet.

"Recognize this?" she asked, tossing him a worn blue shirt, one he'd lent her a while back. After their trip into the desert, and the ensuing fight.

She smirked at him. We'll go there. After.

Lindsey laughed. Hell, yeah, he remembered.

'Course. How could I forget? He slipped the shirt on, buttoning it quickly, sleeves cuffed below his elbows. Who cared if people saw the tattoos; it wasn't like he didn't have the strength or power to beat 'em anyhow.

The smirk became a smile. Lindsey was pretty.

Phaedra pushed dark hair over her shoulders, biting her lower lip. Daggers firmly settled on her hips with a few fluid motions, she stuck her room key in her back pocket and started for the door.

When she spoke, her accent was thick. "Okay. Let's go."

Lindsey followed her, biting nervously at his lip, hissing as his fangs dug into soft flesh a little harder than he'd intended. He released his lower lip, one hand on her waist as they walked out the door, eyes dark and hungry, a smirk on his face as they walked along the hall.

"You're already enjoying this, aren't you?"

The question was asked playfully. Phaedra liked what she was, yeah, but she'd never expect anyone else to. Maybe Lindsey was more like her than she thought.

The elevator door opened, and Phaedra hit the lobby button, leaning back on the wall, legs out in front of her.

"I've never had to teach anyone before. Well... not anyone, uh, new." She winked at him.

"Mmhmmm." He grinned, glancing at her as he slumped bonelessly yet somehow elegantly against the wall, hands in his pockets, one foot crossed over the other at the ankles.

"First time for both'f us, then." He winked back.

"Be still my heart."

Phaedra laughed. The elevator door opened, and she stood, sidling out into the lobby on long legs, shaking dark hair back over her shoulders.

The last time she'd done anything like this, it had been for Drac. And that was only because Drac's sire was a complete and total monster. Phaedra had taken him under her wing, taught him how not to get killed. That kind of thing.

"It's up to you, where we go," she said, pushing the front door open.

"...You choose." He shrugged. "I got no idea what to do." He stuck close by Phaedra, more out of habit than anything else, watching people pass by with his new eyes, picking up so much detail he never would have noticed before.

"Alright."

You have two choices, ves'tacha, Phaedra told him, grabbing his hand and navigating them through the street. You can feed to kill, or you can feed small amounts at a time. I never feed to kill.

She didn't tell him she didn't recommend it, because the guilt and the images in the blood could overwhelm easily. She gave him the choice.

If you're feeding to kill, you're feeding on people society won't miss. That is not a choice.

Don't think I could kill someone. He admitted, holding her hand, letting her lead him through the crowds of people.

Small amounts. He nodded slightly, having made the decision. Not that it was much of a decision, of course.

Phaedra sighed, relieved. She was hoping that was what he'd choose. She wasn't sure she was going to be able to handle Lindsey actually killing people.

Good.

Now all she needed was a dark place, lots of people... the Bronze would work, though after her little bout with Angelus in the alley, Phaedra was wary of the place. But that's where she was leading them. Had to be crowded, or someone might notice what was going on.

They were there quickly, and the guy at the door stared at Phaedra. She stared back. He smirked, nodded, and opened the door.

Following Phaedra into the club, he grinned at the loud music, the low, pulsing beat that resounded in his still chest. His hands were on her waist as they moved, steering her through the crowd towards the dancefloor with a grin.

Phaedra led him, one hand resting on one of Lindsey's.

The band was far too loud for her tastes, but Phaedra liked that there was a woman playing the drums. A woman with purple hair. She smiled.

The guy at the door had let her in with weapons, something that shouldn't happen. And he'd done it because she told him to. With her mind.

"I don't dance," she whispered, turning her head into Lindsey, "not to this, anyway, so don't even think about it."

She smirked.

He pouted a little at that.

"Aww, c'mon. Just one?" He breathed against her ear, nipping it gently, mouth moving down to suck at the soft skin just underneath her jaw. He slid his arms around her waist, trying to coax her into movement.

Phaedra shivered. This was not fair.

A whisper against her skin made her shiver. She shut her eyes for a second, then turned to face Lindsey, looking up at him, eyes hungry.

"I. Don't. Dance."

You're going to have to move me.

He grinned, slowly, gently nudging her further into the crowd of dancing, swaying bodies.

"You do now." He murmured.

s'easy. Just move like you do when we're in bed... He had his hands on her hips, guiding them from side to side, in time with the music as he stepped closer, pulling their bodies together. He kissed her, moving against her as he glanced around at the crowd.

Phaedra was glaring, but the glare was slightly playful. She let Lindsey move her, let him pull her into the crush of people, let him pull on her and sway her hips.

She felt incredibly stupid, but the look on Lindsey's face... that was anything but.

He pulled her against him, and her arms wound around his neck as he kissed her.

Could get used to this.

Good. He purred, tightening his grip as they moved to the beat of the music, hands sliding under her shirt as one of his knees slid between hers, grinding close and hard, smirking as he picked up more than one person watching them, looks of envy and lust in their eyes.

Phaedra's mouth opened, just enough for a gasp that fell against Lindsey's ear.

"You doing this because you want to, or for the audience?" She asked, eyes still closed. She bit her lower lip.

Distracted. From why we're here.

"Bit of both." He grinned.

Jus' enjoying myself, is all. You want me to choose someone to feed on? Let me look around first. He pouted a little, against her jaw, gaze flicking around the club as they continued to dance, grinning at how easily he had Phaedra gasping and shuddering for him.

Phaedra opened her eyes, pulling her head back. "Thought so."

No pouting.

"So enjoy yourself. Just thought you might be..."

Hungry. She ran a hand down his back, under his shirt, nails grazing skin, teasing.

She was not one to let Lindsey have the upper hand.

Lindsey shuddered, finding it hard to draw breath for a moment, unneccessary though that was. He swallowed hard, eyes bleeding to a pale, pale shade of green as he looked down at her.

I am. Just...how'd you choose someone?

Phaedra watched his eyes change with something like awe. God, was that what hers looked like, when that happened to her?

She leaned upward, taking Lindsey's lower lip between hers.

You just feel, she told him, biting his lip gently. You can feel who's watching you, right? You can tell who wouldn't be afraid. You choose one of them. You use your mind, like this, to keep them calm.

She let go of his lip, pulling her face back with a seductive grin.

Lindsey groaned, an altogether different kind of hunger flowing through him as she bit his lip.

Show me? He asked softly, already picking out a young girl who was watching them, eyes hazy with lust and envy and want.

I don't want to hurt anyone...

Phaedra smirked up at him. She really did like it when he groaned.

She put a hand on either side of his face, looking him right in his eyes. "I'll show you," she said, nodding. You won't hurt anyone. You drink, yes, but not enough to hurt. You stop before you hurt. You close the wounds. Then you make them forget.

She followed Lindsey's eyes, right to the young girl who was so obviously jealous of Phaedra. She let go of Lindsey, and walked over to her. The girl's eyes widened as the vampiress approached, but Phaedra kept going. She crooked a finger at the girl, beckoning her, silently telling her nothing was wrong, that she was only after a dance, maybe a kiss.

The girl smiled, and walked toward Phaedra. Hating that she had to dance more, Phaedra grabbed her, pulling the girl to her and dancing with her a little, turning the girl, turning her so that her neck was bared to her. Phaedra slid behind her, catlike, arms around the girl's waist, no space between them.

To anyone but Lindsey, what happened next looked like flirtation, a kiss on the neck, nothing more. But Phaedra bit down, closing her eyes a few seconds, hands tightening on the girl's waist. A minute later, she brought her hand quickly to her fingertip, and pretended to brush back the girl's hair, coming back to the front of her. She smiled, leaned forward, and gave the girl a slow, not-quite-chaste, kiss on the lips.

The crowd around the two of them, the men at least, were whistling and cat-calling. Phaedra just shrugged, turning around to Lindsey, head tilted.

Lindsey watched, dry-mouthed, fangs itching as he watched her feed. His eyes were pale, hungry, body unnaturally still. He nodded as Phaedra looked at him, glancing around the club. There.

A young man, this time, eyes wide, watching Phaedra and the girl dance, hidden in the shadows, mind fixed on Lindsey and Phaedra. Lindsey prowled around the edge of the dancefloor, out of the young man's line of sight, coming up behind him.

"Pretty, ain't she?" He murmured, grinning as he jumped, tried to turn. Lindsey put his hands on the young man's waist, feeling his breath quicken.

"Shhh." He breathed, lips against the young man's ear, feeling the nervous quiver of his body. Relax. He made the thought a command, grinning wider as he felt it work.

Eyes on Phaedra, he dipped his head, nuzzling at the young man's jaw, kissing his neck once, twice, before biting down.

There was a reason that Lestat and his Coven referred to the change, to making someone into a vampire, as "the dark trick." There was a very, very good reason. No matter what raw materials the demon or force that animated them was given, vampires like Lestat always ended up prettier, more seductive, sinister in a way that made others go weak in the knees.

Phaedra was ignoring the whistles, letting the girl she'd just bitten dance around her, but her vision had tunnelled. A few feet away, there was Lindsey. Kissing a young man's jaw. Feeding.

Something inside of Phaedra raced. It wasn't blood; she knew that feeling.

She almost felt it when Lindsey bit down, felt the hunger and the need cresting and breaking, and her mouth opened, almost in awe.

The girl, oblivious to having been bitten, leaned forward and planted a kiss on Phaedra's cheek before wandering away.

Lindsey's eyes slid closed, his arms tightening around the young man's waist as he fed, overwhelmed by the images racing through his head.

It took him longer to pull back than it had Phaedra, the young man weak-kneed in his arms. Licking at the bitemark, he willed the young man to forget, gently leading him to a low couch in the corner and setting him down, laughing softly as the boy tried to hold on to him.

He slipped back through the crowd towards Phaedra, his gaze roaming the room once more, hunger a little less sharp but still pounding through him, soft chant of more, more, more curling through his head.

Phaedra watched, entranced. The kid Lindsey'd fed on was happily unaware of what'd happened, and sprawled out on a couch. Kid was even laughing.

Phaedra smiled and shook her head, watching Lindsey approach. Her eyebrow danced upward. Good. But you're still hungry. Not surprising. It will get easier as time goes on, the hunger.

She laughed inside her own head, and Lindsey would catch the sound and the thoughts that followed, should he be so inclined. She sounded... she felt like she should be calling him 'grasshopper,' or something. That was funny.

She raised her head, arms falling from being crossed, and strode toward Lindsey.

Lindsey grinned, meeting her halfway, his arm sliding easily around her waist. He dipped his head, kissing her hungrily, the faintest trace of blood on both their mouths, mingling as he licked at her mouth.

You taste better... His voice is husky, eyes still that pale, pale colour, hunger drumming through his veins, the boy bringing a hint of a flush to his features.

Phaedra tilted her head up into the kiss, unable to repress a serious shudder from ripping through her.

The good kind of shudder.

She pulled back, eyebrow still raised. Mmmm. The sound was like a purr, but silent. You're still not fed, ves'tacha.

"Have to take care of that," she said aloud, accent making the words dance. Her eyes were bleeding to that green again. She was going to have to re-learn control.

Lindsey grinned.

Nope. Pick someone. He can't look away from her right now, can't think of anyone else. They're on the very edge of the dancefloor, standing in each others arms, people parting around them as if they're part of the furniture, an unmoveable pillar.

The atmosphere wasn't lost on her, at all. The crowd moving around them, all of it, felt like slow-motion.

Phaedra scanned the crowd, green eyes narrowed, mind focused, looking over Lindsey's shoulder.

There was a woman, probably about 30, with wavy blond hair falling all around her face. She was watching the two of them, drink in her hand, mind clouded. Phaedra couldn't tell which of the pair of them the woman had her eye on, but there was definite lust there.

She nodded her chin toward the woman, eyebrows raising and lowering with the movement. Then, too low for any human to hear, she whispered, "Her name is Alison."

Lindsey grinned, kissing Phaedra's cheek before walking towards Alison, watching as her eyes focused on him, seeing and smelling the blood rise to her face, just below the skin, pretty flush in creamy cheeks, even under too-thick makeup.

"Evenin'," He mumured, offering her a hand. When she gave it, he lifted his hand towards his lips, kissing her knuckles softly.

"Care to dance?" She nodded dumbly, sliding off her stool and following him to the dancefloor. Smiling seductively, Lindsey pulled her close, nuzzling into her neck as they swayed. She was wearing heels, just tall enough that his mouth could fit into the curve where shoulder met neck without him having to stretch.

He kissed and nipped at the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he bit down, clouding her mind with pleasure, chuckling as she moaned softly and clutched at him.

Phaedra watched all of this with a slight smirk on her face, detached.

They grow up so fast.

Lindsey was alarmingly good at this. Granted, she'd known from the beginning he wasn't the boy nextdoor, but still. When Alison blushed, when her heart thudded, Phaedra could feel it--even from across the room.

Show off, she told him, silently, winking.

Phaedra strode over to the bar, away from the dance floor, ignoring a few whistles, and sat on a barstool... much the way she had in her dream, with Angel.

But this time, she was herself. No dress, no helplessness.

Just my natural charm, darlin'... Lindsey's voice twinkled with humour as he pulled back from Alison's neck, wound closed under his careful efforts, licking a last drop of blood from the corner of his mouth as he left Alison standing there.

He walked back over to Phaedra, turning half way as a young and rather thin-looking goth boy stared, blushed, and looked away quickly.

one more? He asked the question softly, the hunger not as immediate.

Phaedra rolled her eyes.

Lindsey approached her, looking half-human. Good start, she mused to herself. Dark hair fell into her eyes as she looked up at him.

That's not up to me. If you've had enough to carry you through at least till tomorrow night, then you don't need more. But if you haven't...

The raw need was no longer coming off of him in waves. Good. Sean had made him strong enough that the need wasn't as huge as it could be.

Tilting her head, Phaedra looked at the waifish boy behind the two of them, and she looked back up at Lindsey. "A line's forming," she said, laughing slightly.

Lindsey grinned, and tilted his head.

"I kinda like him." He turned back to Phaedra. Just one more taste... Half question, half confirmation, as he turned back to the boy, beckoning him close as he slid an arm around Phaedra's waist.

Feed with me?

Phaedra was amused. She actually giggled. Goth kids were funny enough to her; Lindsey 'kinda liking' one was funnier.

She actually had a train of thought before Lindsey's arm slid around her, before she processed the thought he sent her. After both of those things, though, she couldn't remember what she'd been thinking.

A chill flew up her spine. This is more dangerous than you think, she told him, watching the wide-eyed, eyeliner-wearing boy approach. Harder to cloud a mind this way. Easier to take too much.

Lindsey laughed softly at the sound of her giggle; not a sound he expected to hear from her. The Goth kid, who was going to keep Lindsey laughing for hours, all earnest eyes and carefully smudged eyeliner, stopped in front of them.

I trust you, he turned, kissing her ear, "you'll stop me."

Well, hell.

The whisper slid into her ear like that's where it had always belonged. Phaedra sat perfectly straight, fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

"That's a hell of a thing," she said, accent thick. I will, will I?

A predatory smile crept across Phaedra's lips, and she crooked a finger at the boy, beckoning. He came over to her, a bundle of nerves, and stopped right in front of the pair of them. She kept on beckoning. "Closer," she told him.

Yeah. You will. There was no question in those words, just complete belief. Lindsey smirked at the boy, hand curling around his wrist and tugging when he'd moved close enough. He thrilled at the slight tremble of nerves, the quickened breathing from him. So fragile, so very very alive that it made him ache.

Somewhere in the back of Gothboy's head (his name was Jake, Phaedra read easily), he knew what was going on here. He just didn't care.

That, unfortunately, was incredibly appetizing to the vampiress sitting in front of him. She got to her feet soundlessly, lips parted, and smiled at the kid. She pushed him gently into Lindsey, so he'd end up in the middle of an embrace. "Lean back," she whispered.

The kid shut his eyes, which was good. Phaedra's eyes had bled otherworldly green, and she raised them to Lindsey's momentarily, the smile returning--the smile that made no pretense about the nice packaging and showed her for exactly what she was. A second later, a slender hand slid up the kid's chest, making his breath catch, and up to his neck.

Phaedra felt the pulse in his neck, under her fingers, and leaned forward. To an onlooker, she was just playing with the kid, turning him on. But fangs sank home, eyes closed, and blood was drawn.

Lindsey slid his arms around Jake's waist, moaning softly as Phaedra's eyes met his, that predatory look making him hard, the blood he had stolen rushing through dead veins. He laughed as he felt Jake push back against him, sliding his hands around Phaedra's waist as he bent his head to the other side of the young man's neck.

Hair in his eyes, he bit down, drinking slowly, thready moan vibrating against his mouth as Jake leant back, then pushed forward, caught between the two vampires and loving every minute.

Jake shuddered. This had definitely been more than the kid had bargained for. And now he was a little afraid, though he was definitely enjoying himself. The kid bit his lower lip to keep from making any noise, and his inner monologue ran something like "ohmygodyesssssssss."

Despite the Goth-ness of the boy, he was a well-adjusted kid. Phaedra wasn't getting many bad memories from him, which made it all the tougher to stop what she was doing. He was like drinking a glass of good mood.

You have to stop, ves'tacha,she told Lindsey, glad the voice didn't have to be audible. It would've been thick with lust.

She let go of Jake's neck, teeth leaving the wound, and the kid sighed.

Lindsey drew back, taking a little longer than Phaedra, carefully lapping at the wound - perhaps a little more vigorously than he needed to. His eyes sparkled with mirth as he looked at Phaedra, Jake practically squirming between them.

Can we keep him? He asked (mostly) jokingly, his nails scraping gently across Phaedra's hips, then Jake's, as he pulled his hands back.

Phaedra looked at Lindsey, smirking. Her eyes were still demonic. Poor Jake, smushed between them, was breathily very fast, the slide of Lindsey's nails making the kid smirk in a not-so-innocent manner.

Not a good idea, no matter how much fun it'd be, she told Lindsey.

Jake swallowed, pulling his lip into his mouth, and stood up straight, clearly happily rattled. "Uhm..." the kid said, stepping back to look at both of them. "Is there, like, anything I can do for either of you?" He grinned, wickedly. "Any. Thing. Really. Cause I'm, uh, not getting over that anytime soon."

He looked at Lindsey, and Phaedra just smirked and shook her head. "How do you two not just stay in bed all day long?"

Lindsey tipped his head back, laughing. He glanced down just in time to see Jake shiver pleasantly at the sound.

"Good question." He purred, tugging Phaedra close, one arm around her waist, the other holding her face firmly as he kissed her, all fire and hunger, his hips pushing into hers as he growled softly.

She'd forgotten Lindsey didn't yet know what effect their laughter had on people. There was a close-lipped smile.

Lindsey pulled her to him, kissing her, and her eyebrows furrowed with the ferocity of it. Dizzying.

She pulled back, smiling up at him, and noticed Jake still standing there, agape.

"If you guys aren't going to take me up on that offer, I need to go. While I can still walk. And have a cold shower. Or a lot of sex."

Lindsey cocked an eyebrow at Phaedra.

Up to you, darlin'. He wound his hands in Phaedra's hair, tugging her head back gently, lapping at her throat with a low noise that sounded suspiciously like a purr.

"Fuck," that was from Jake, still standing there, watching them with hungry eyes, all nerves and gangly limbs.

Hell.

"Why do I always hafta be the bad guy?" Phaedra whispered to Lindsey, smirking.

There was a sigh, and recognition that in about ten seconds, if she didn't put a stop to it, this kid was going to need therapy for the rest of his life.

She turned in Lindsey's arms and looked at the kid. "Jake, we're going to go," she said, putting a little preternatural oomph behind the words. "And you're going to stay."

Lindsey smirked, tugging her back against him, his hands on her hips, grinding forward against her in a slow tease; now that he had the warm blood to do it, he wanted to see just what this body could do. Again.

He watched as she shot the kid down, shrugging apologetically.

Actually, come to think of it, she always had to be the bad guy because she pretty much was. That was funny.

Jake nodded. "I, uh... I..." He swallowed, and his Adam's apple moved over his neck with the gulp. "Kay."

He nodded, looked at the pair of them again as though it was absolute torture to be walking away, and turned to go the other way.

As soon as he did that, Phaedra turned her face to Lindsey and glared. It was a playful glare, but a glare all the same. "You have any idea the damage we could've done to that kid?" Her eyebrow arched. "Keep him," she murmured, biting her lower lip and shaking her head.

Lindsey tried to look innocent. And failed, miserably.

"I'm sorry?" He tried, sticking out his lower lip a little, blue eyes big and innocent-looking, even as his hands slid over her hips, up her spine, pulling their bodies close.

If Lindsey thought for a second that the innocent routine was working, he had another thing coming.

Phaedra stopped glaring, but she shook her head one more time. It was no use to tell him all about how much that kid would've LOVED being kept.

"No you're not," she laughed. There was a sigh. "Be careful."

Jean-Claude once told Anita, and told Phaedra at a different time, that before vampires of his type had human servants, there was another name for that particular position.

It was 'slave.'

"I will," Lindsey murmured softly, meaning it this time.

"Let's get outta here, darlin'." He guessed they should let the others know how they were doing; even if all he wanted to do now was dance and fuck and curl up with her in his arms.

An eyebrow arched. "You better," Phaedra said. But she smirked at him.

"Okay, let's go," she said. Before we corrupt any other minors.

She smiled at him, and even laughed, taking his hand and leading him out the door.

[ooc: up to 22nd august, carr next - jesse date.]

The Park, post-turning.

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 18:09:12 GMT

The park was dead quiet.

That, Phaedra reasoned, was how it should be, at any rate. The witches, the wolf, the necromancer, the vampires... all gone.

Just her, just Lindsey.

She was leaving the next move up to him; even if it had been three centuries ago, Phaedra remembered how being turned had felt. She was still confused as to the whys and hows, and really, really would have to have a sit-down with "Sean," if she could stomach it without trying to sever his head.

She blinked wet green eyes at Lindsey.

"Are you... okay?"

Lindsey thought about it, and shrugged. "I'm ali-," he stopped, corrected himself. "Not bleeding out on the ground, so yeah. M'ok." He gently took her hand, wanting nothing more than to kiss her, forget about everything else.

He just didn't know if she'd let him.

I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.... Dark eyebrows knitted together. He'd almost said 'alive.'

Phaedra licked absently at her lower lip, feeling the difference in his touch already. Not a huge difference, not yet. Still warm, still softer than she was; he was younger, he'd always be that.

She swallowed. "Did he give you a choice?"

The words were a little choked, eyes searching his.

He nodded, keeping his eyes on hers. He let the image swim to the surface of his mind, showing her Sean kneeling in the grass beside him, offering him the choice, offering his wrist.

He was tryin' ta fix what Saerian did, darlin'. Ain't no cause to be blamin' him. He reached up, cupping her cheek softly, noting the differences in how she felt, in how...everything felt.

Phaedra saw it, caught it like a ball. Sean had actually been very careful--the antithesis of Saerian. She nodded gently.

She shut her eyes at the touch, hair falling into her face, over Lindsey's hand, turning her head a bit into the caress.

"I don't blame him," she whispered.

Everything just changed. That's all. "Are you afraid?"

"Terrified." Lindsey admitted, laughing softly.

Are we...we ok, darlin'? He asked, nervously, reassured by the way she nuzzled into his hand.

Her eyes opened, and she laughed, an honest smile taking over her face and reaching her eyes. Phaedra smirked, taking Lindsey's hand, holding it, and taking a step toward him.

"Gets easier, ves'tacha," she said, getting lost again in the blueness of his eyes. One eyebrow raised, and for a second, she was able to forget that she was covered in blood and far too exposed for her liking.

Hai*, she told him, nodding. He did something I wouldn't have done, but...

Pale fingers brushed across his hand, still holding it. She smiled a little sadly at Lindsey, but then the smile got brighter. She'd probably feel guilty for a very long time, about the part she'd played in all of this, in the loss of Lindsey's human life. But...

"...He made us equals," she said, eyes playful.

::*Roma for 'yes.'::

"That he did." He murmured, a teasing smile curving his lips now, at last. He cupped her face in his hands, dipping his head, stopping just an inch short of her lips, pausing.

You gon' punch me if I kiss you now? he asked, still smiling gently. He knew it was unlikely, but still.

Phaedra smirked. "Not that long ago, you stood pretty much where you are now and asked the same thing."

She was dimly aware that she should not be smiling, that she should be mourning him. There had been a death, after all, even if Lindsey was still standing. There had been loss.

But right now, after being controlled, used... Phaedra couldn't grieve.

Only if you want me to.

Lindsey laughed, the sound musical and light, his smile splitting his face in two.

"That I did."

Oh, no. Definately not. He dipped his head, gently brushed their lips together, but it couldn't stay soft for long. The kiss was fierce and bruising, hungry, making up for the last day, what they had lost.

This was going to be interesting. The laugh was different; it was a vampire's laugh, now. It was colder, more musical.

The smile made her melt. Phaedra managed to forget the last day or so, completely, and smile back, chin lifting to meet his lips.

Fierce was probably an understatement. Phaedra had never kissed another vampire--yet another first, involving Lindsey--let alone one that likely matched her in power.

They could bruise each other.

Her tongue slid between his lips, moving carefully, pressing her lips closer. She felt the fangs.

And instead of getting upset, of being hurt by what her involvement had meant, she pulled Lindsey closer, pressing the rest of his body to her.

Lindsey groaned, tugging her close against him, hands curling into her arms, bare and smooth against his skin. Those hands slid down her body, over the curve of her ass, the short short skirt, barely ghosting over her thighs before sliding back up, cupping her ass and pulling her forward, hard.

He kissed her hungrily, fangs a little awkward, accidentally nicking his tongue on his own teeth. The slight tang of blood nearly had his knees buckling, hunger rising swiftly inside him.

The grip was different, Phaedra could feel it. Where before, she could have shrugged Lindsey off, could've just thrown him had she wanted to, that was never going to be an option again.

And she didn't care.

A smile curved her lips; she knew he'd bitten himself, and she'd seen the reaction, felt the reaction in him. Barely an inch from his face, Phaedra raised an eyebrow, one hand sliding between their bodies and resting on his chest. Staying here much longer was going to be bad.

She remembered saying the next part before, too. Want to get out of here?

Oh, God yes... His hands were almost trembling now, need and hunger warring inside him, Lindsey not sure which one was going to win. And then he looked at Phaedra again, and he knew.

Your room?

Phaedra nodded, backing away from him and taking his hand. There was a fleeting thought that she should run, like the first time, see if he could catch her... but she didn't run. If Lindsey thought it was a good idea, he could tell her. He could read her now.

It occured to Phaedra that she was going to have to find a more permanent place to live, especially considering the most recent events. She'd worry about that later. For now, she started walking him out of the park, high heeled boots clicking on pavement, suddenly very aware of how little clothing she was wearing.

Phaedra smirked, light that was close to evil dancing in her eyes. Lindsey was hungry. She could see it. She could almost feel it. "Come on," she said. "You look like you..."

The smirk became a grin. "Need."

Lindsey staggered a little, almost, the low note in her voice making him shiver. He grinned darkly, flashing fangs, lacing their fingers together.

Wanna see just what this body can do... was her only warning, and then they were off. He ran; but 'run' was such a poor word for what they were doing now, 'flying' was closer to the truth. Streets blurred, and it was less than moments before they were at Phaedra's door.

Well, that answered that.

It was nice to be able to run like this, not to worry about Lindsey keeping up, or getting tired. Phaedra could get used to his. Very used to it. There was a fleeting pang of guilt, and she knew that without her, without him having met her, Lindsey'd still be breathing.

They were at her door, and she opened it, watching him. Actually, it was more of pushing the door open by leaning on it. Phaedra was studying Lindsey's face, back to the door, as she keyed the lock and turned the knob. When the door swung inward, she went with it, biting at her lower lip.

Alright. Let's see what you can do.

Rarely, if ever, did Phaedra ever give anyone a free pass like that. She bet Lindsey knew that.

Lindsey pushed the door shut as he reached for her, ripping the clothes *He'd* bought her from her body with one fluid movement.

He was out of his own clothes in moments, grabbing her hard, kissing her like he'd die if they stopped. He picked her up, throwing her onto the bed, moving across the room, flowing up onto the bed, lying over her with a low groan.

How'm I doin'?

Her eyebrow arched at the tearing; Phaedra was amused. She didn't like the clothes, either, and she more than understood Lindsey's reaction to them. But the violence of the action, the fact that he could now do something like that, tear fabric like tissue paper, amused her.

Phaedra had never seen anyone she'd known as a human become a vampire. This was beyond impressive; it was mind-blowing.

In another instant, she was kissing him, fiercely, her own need and want for him growing every second.

Then, she was thrown--and she laughed. Up till now, the only time she'd ever been thrown like a doll was by a vampire older and stronger than she was--and there weren't many of those. She landed with a soft thump on the bed, looking up at Lindsey with wide green eyes.

"So far," she said, a hand running down his bare back, "so good."

Lindsey grinned, weight on his arms as he kissed her, letting their lower bodies press against one another, grinding his hips in a sloooow circle against hers. He nipped and sucked at her lips, managing not to scratch her or break skin, low moan slipping free as he shifted.

Phaedra shut her eyes, and for a second, she conned herself into believing nothing had changed.

The slight bite of her lips brought her back, and brought a small gasp from her. The teeth weren't the same teeth that bit at her lip a mere few days ago. These were sharper, these were weapons, like hers.

She was impressed all over again; for someone with so much raw hunger, Lindsey was keeping himself fairly under control.

In response, Phaedra bit at his lower lip, drawing it into her mouth gently.

I don't have to be gentle with you anymore. A pale hand traced down his chest, teasing, as she nipped his lip. And she drew blood.

Lindsey nearly sobbed as his own blood hit his tongue, grinding down against her, low whine in his throat.

Need...</i> He was practically humping her leg by now, teeth catching and pulling at her lip, a little less careful now.

Alright, so she was having a little fun with him, pushing his buttons a little. No one ever accused Phaedra of being a saint.

Her eyes started to bleed to that otherworldy green as Lindsey bit at her, making a small tear in her lower lip.

Yes, need...

Bare skin on bare skin was more than enough, especially when that skin was suddenly like satin. Phaedra's eyelids fluttered, mouth opening in a moan, hands grabbing at Lindsey below the waist now.

...need you.

Lindsey lapped hungrily at that small cut, low growling moan caught in his throat as she moved against him, clutching and pulling.

He shifted, slowly sinking in to her, shaking just a little, still. So different from before, and yet so achingly familiar.

"Oh...God..."

Phaedra gasped, blinking, hands grabbing at Lindsey and pulling him toward her, kissing him until he spoke, then giving him a seductive smile.

"Pretty sure..." her eyes widened, and her words got lost. "...he has nothing to do with it."

There was a loud moan, and a fierce kiss, and disbelief. Lindsey was never a weakling; but now, Phaedra felt strength in ever tiny movement, every gesture. He was coping remarkably well... and she wondered if that was real, or just...

Are you alright, ves'tacha?

I will be... He nuzzled at her jaw, the slope of her neck, lips pressed against her throat. He thrust forward, hard, his hands curling into the bedsheets, aware of every thread in the sheets, pressing against his hands, how easy it would be to rip and tear and rend.

A mortal woman would be in pain from this. Phaedra wondered for about half a second if she'd hurt Lindsey since she'd known him, without realizing it.

But coherent thought didn't stay long. Phaedra had always reacted strongly to lips on her neck, even if they were just pressing kisses to her skin. Now, though, she knew that there were fangs behind those lips.

She dropped her head to the side, baring her neck to Lindsey, mouth and eyes open as a sound like a purr passed her lips.

...can I? Oh God, she smelled so good...Lindsey rubbed his face against her throat, nipping gently, almost incongruous considering the way his hips slammed into her, not bothering to hold back.

Phaedra moaned, eyes closing, hands pulling Lindsey toward her roughly, pulling the back of his neck to her neck.

"I'm yours," she breathed, voice barely a whisper.

And that was true, along with something she'd never said or felt before.

It'll make you even stronger, she told him, hand pulling on his hair, nerve endings dancing all over her body.

Lindsey's lips parted in a snarl, head pulling back a little, teeth bared as he sunk his fangs into her neck. He thrust into her, harder, hard enough that she'd have had broken bones if she'd been human. As it was, it was hard, and fast, and so fucking perfect that he never wanted it to stop.

Moaning, he swallowed mouthful after mouthful of her blood, hot and rich and intoxicating, his mind spinning as he drank from her.

Phaedra was beginning to understand what people meant when they said they "lost themselves" in something.

Eyes closed, the bite made her growl, and the growl turned into a long, throaty moan. It'd been years since another vampire had done this, and even then, it wasn't like this. It was chaste, and done to heal. This...

Hands tangled in Lindsey's hair. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was glad for the change, and she hated herself a little for it.

She also knew she'd have to stop him eventually, or the telepathic link would close.

But not yet.

Lindsey shuddered at that growl, hips twitching deep inside her, as if trying to push deeper, lips sealed tight against her throat as he drank. Images flashed across his mind's eye, and it took Lindsey a moment to realise they were coming from Phaedra.

A gypsy camp, sparring with her brothers. getting the tattoo on her wrist. Saerian, the way he looked when he turned her, so different from the young Irishman that had turned Lindsey.

Her father giving her the daggers when she was barely old enough to marry, because she knew how to use them; Drac singing; chasing Angelus back to camp, and knowing without a doubt she was going to get him...the images almost overwhelmed him, dragging him down, each mouthful of blood pulling him in closer, binding them together.

She remembered the feeling, realizing that when she drank blood, she was really drinking a life. That rule didn't stop applying just because it was a preternatural life.

As a fledgeling, blood had almost overwhelmed Phaedra more than once. Things were so clear, in the blood; no lies could be told there, no pretense could be upheld. Everything was simple and honest.

Intoxicating.

A low, almost groaning sound came from parted lips. The images would be rampaging through Lindsey's head, she knew.

And she didn't care.

...ves'tacha.... Her voice would be breathy, even in his head, and thick with her accent. You'll have to stop soon. This... can make us unable to speak like this. Best to do it for a short time.

Nails raked down Lindsey's back, a sigh escaping even as her thoughts were directed toward him.

Lindsey heard her, but it took him a moment to process, to force himself to pull back, low moan of loss as he lapped at the bitemark, gaining every last drop of blood that he could. The slide of nails down his back had him arching, hips pushing into her, that last swallow of blood sweet enough to push him over the edge.

Lips parted, he yelled his release at the ceiling, eyes wide and dark as sensation overwhelmed him.

Her eyebrows furrowed as the bite ended, her face slightly sad, showing loss.

Phaedra watched Lindsey, closely, watched him throw his head back, watched his throat work. She caught site of the fangs as his lips moved back, and a shudder ripped through her.

Much as she didn't want Lindsey in this situation, it really did have its benefits. A second or two after, Phaedra's back arched, stomach lifting off the bed, eyes closed in ecstacy, everything in her body blurring into one long, slow bliss.

Lindsey collapsed against her, panting softly - though that was more habit, and not nearly as hard as he would have been, were he still human. He pressed his face against her shoulder, the sheets below, trying to still his mind.

A slow smile spread across Phaedra's face. He didn't need to pant, or breathe... she hoped he understood that. She kissed his cheek, arms winding around Lindsey's body.

A minute or two later, when she was actually able to form words, Phaedra spoke.

"We're going to have to do that again," she purred, eyebrow arching. "How're you?"

Lindsey was far too comfortable pressed against her; and since he didn't need to breathe, he could get just that little bit closer.

"Mnurgh." Was his rough reply, mouth still pressed against her shoulder.

Maybe when I'm less broken... He thought dryly, smirking a little.

Phaedra laughed, a big, almost cackle.

"I see," she said.

You're not broken, ves'tacha. And anyway, we need to find out what else you can do.

She ran fingers idly through his hair, completely happy and wondering if she should be.

Am so. He insisted, slurring even in his head. You broked me. He laughed, closing his eyes, purring at the slow glide of her fingers through his hair, able to feel and hear as his hair parted around her skin, brushing against each finger.

She laughed again. Being this cute after all that happened, this was out of line.

Even for Lindsey.

"I did not!" Phaedra said, smiling. She sighed contentedly. You drunk on me?

"Mmhmmm." Lindsey nuzzled at her cheek, still smiling broadly. "Y'taste good." He bit her ear playfully, hands roving across her skin, mapping every inch of her. It felt like the first time, like he had to memorise every little thing, learn what it felt like to touch her everywhere.

Phaedra bit her lip. It was somewhat disgusting that a tingle went through her just from Lindsey saying that. She could feel him smiling, his face against hers.

"Gestena," she said, laughter in her voice. She'd be fine if he kept this up until sunrise. Being touched, just touched, was wonderful.

"I think you're in sensory overload," Phaedra said, grinning.

"Probably." He sighed, still grinning. He licked a long trail up her neck, catching the last bits of blood that he'd missed as his fingers drew circles on her ribs.

"Don't care."

Her eyes shut, lids fluttering, and Phaedra was sure that they would bleed to electric green again. She made a small, low noise in her throat--it was official. Lindsey had way too much power over her.

"You're sure you're alright?"

Her eyebrow arched, eyes still closed, and she bit her lip. Her voice had been edging on breathy all over again.

Lindsey sobered a little, some of her worry seeping through the pleasant haze he was wrapped up in.

"I'm...yeah." He nodded slowly. "Take some gettin' used to, y'know..." He cupped her face in his hands, gently, so gently, his thumbs resting on her cheekbones.

I'm here, and I got you. Forever. That makes me more'n alright, no matter what. Ok?

Phaedra's face grew more serious. She hated to ruin a good mood for Lindsey, really hated it-- poor guy hadn't gotten one break since coming here.

"I know," she said, voice careful. Her throat worked. "I remember."

She loved when he held her face in his hands, for some reason. Probably because no one else had ever had the guts for it.

Phaedra closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them, looking into Lindsey's. Forever was always longer than anyone thought.

She gave him a small smile. Hai.

"You told me... you told me I was going to be bad for you," Phaedra said, careful of where this was headed. She ran her tongue over her lower lip. "You were right."

He kissed her, softly, smiling.

Now I know what 'Vestacha' means... his smile turned a little wicked, having picked up a few words from the memories he'd drunk from her.

"No I wasn't." He murmured. Fuck having a pulse. You make me feel more alive than I have my whole life, darlin'. Wouldn't give it up for the world.

The kiss was sweet, and when Lindsey pulled back, the smile on his face was enough to make her melt.

She gave him back a similar smile. You knew before that. You understood. What else did you get from me, hm?

Her mouth opened at the next words in her head, almost in surprise. Her eyebrow arched.

"Good," Phaedra said. "Because now, you probably can't."

It was true, too. If his blood, his power, was anything like hers, Lindsey probably couldn't die--barring act of God or something like that.

She ran fingers down his back, idly. "You vant to see what you can do?"

Phaedra gave him a conspiratorial smile.

Lindsey grinned wickedly, catching his lower lip between his teeth as he arched slowly, still buried deep inside her. Oh, yeah... He practically purred, thumbs brushing softly against her cheeks as he kissed her again.

Not that she wasn't enjoying herself (and Lindsey's self, for that matter), but that wasn't what Phaedra meant.

She wanted to see what he was capable of--in terms of vampiric senses. She wanted to see how close Sean had gotten to making him like her.

She kissed him back, softly, still unused to the sensation of fangs in his mouth.

Careful. I'll get used to this. Before we find out just how dangerous you are.

Oh, I don't think you'll ever get used to this.. He wriggled with intent, grin wide and utterly wicked. If you do, I'm doin' somethin' wrong...

He pulled back, though, sliding out of her with a shiver and a low groan, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for his cigarettes. Habit, more than anything else, but hm. How different would it be?

Phaedra narrowed her eyes, squirming under him. A low gasp came out of her mouth before she could do anything to suppress it. He knew damn well he wasn't doing anything wrong in that department, and she let him know that silently.

"Smartass," she said.

Lindsey sat up, and she propped herself up on one elbow, watching him.

"Yep." He grinned, placing a cigarette between his lips, flicking the lighter, bringing it to the tip of his cigarette. He inhaled, slowly, eyes widening, just a little. Certainly different.

And, annoyingly, less satisfying. Damnit.

Phaedra watched, intrigued. She wondered what the difference would be, since she wasn't a smoker herself.

She read Lindsey's thoughts, not really meaning to. "It's different because you don't need to breathe anymore," she said, reaching out a hand and running it down his bare back. Green eyes looked up at him from where her hand held up her head. There was a slow smile, one that might've scared Lindsey in his previous incarnation. "It's all different."

Want to ask anything?

Lindsey arched into her hand, reaching down to touch her, brush his fingers against her cheek.

"Will I die? Like you do, at dawn?" He asked at last, flicker of fear in his eyes for a moment. He really wasn't looking forward to that; though, not having to leave her side was going to be nice.

Phaedra shut her eyes at the touch, smiling slightly at it.

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest," she said. "I would think so, since Sean was made by... vell, the Conduit, but the Conduit was me. I think you have the same blood. I'm just not certain."

Her eyebrows raised, both of them. "You're scared," she said. There was a gentle smile. "It's not scary. Not nearly as scary as some of the other things we're capable of."

"I'm going to effectively die for the day, an' you're tellin' me to not be scared?" He murmured, with a wry grin.

"Can we just...lie here for a bit?" He finished his cigarette, stubbing it out and lying back down. His arms reached for her, tugging her close. Just gonna take some gettin' used to, is all.

"The idea of it is scary," Phaedra said, nodding. "But the reality of it is not. It's sleep, ves'tacha. That's all it is."

And I'll be with you.

Her heart almost broke with that thought. God.

"Hai," she said aloud, aware that she hadn't really said that world aloud in centuries.

She leaned into Lindsey as he held her, nestled into his chest. It is, of course it is. But you'll adjust.

Got you here to take care'f me. He smiled, holding her close, kissing her forehead gently.

I get to fall asleep holdin' you now; can't complain about that... He squeezed her gently, their legs tangled as he settled down a little.

Phaedra nodded, head moving only slightly. It made all the difference in the world to have an older vampire take you under their wing when you were new.

She hadn't had that; a lot of vampires never had that.

She smiled at him, slightly, eyes closing, happy.

What else do you want to know, ves'tacha?

Does feeding always feel like that? Or just with you? He nuzzled her hair away from her face, humming softly, body responding a little to the remembered sensations in his head.

Phaedra bit her lower lip into her mouth, the brush of Lindsey's face making her sigh.

"It's... different... with vampires," she said, voice very low, barely a whisper. "Our blood is different."

A dark eyebrow arched, and a slow, slightly wicked smile took over her lips. "But feeding is always..." She sighed again, searching her mind for the words. If Lindsey was tuned into her thoughts, he'd laugh-- a string of Roma words was cast aside, other English words pushed out of the way for not being good enough, accurate enough. "... incredible?"

There aren't words for it, I can't explain it well.

Then show me... His lips were slightly parted against her temple, fangs showing just a little as he smiled.

Do we have time tonight? Or'm I waitin' til tomorrow?

God, this was going to be dangerous...the question made hair on her neck stand up.

Phaedra smiled up at him, a slow, careful smile. She wanted nothing more than to get both of them dressed, and to take Lindsey out hunting and see what he could do. She never killed anymore--not unless it was a job. It wasn't necessary, not when she could just as easily feed and leave people alive. A little here, a little there, more bites, yes, but no bodies.

And Phaedra, at her age, really didn't need to hunt every night.

It's close to dawn, ves'tacha. If it wouldn't be your first time... the careful smile became a seductive one... there would be time. But to teach you, to do this right, we need more time.

Lindsey nodded, grinning.

"Guess we'll jus' have to stay here then..." He murmured, sliding his hands oh-so-slowly down her back.

"What a shame," she said, grinning back at him. One hand rest on his cheek, thumb running back and forth over the skin.

It was getting to be the time of day when Phaedra could feel the sun coming. Didn't matter. Everything was different.

Dueling swords [extract from massive sprawly thread]

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 17:47:45 GMT

Having refueled (much to Jason's dismay, on burgers rather than steak), Lindsey was feeling much more human. And able to stand without swaying, which was always a bonus. He'd stopped back at Phaedra's hotel to grab the rest of his weapons, feeling much more confident with a little more defence. Even if it probably wasn't going to do much good against Saerian.

And so now they were waiting for the Witchmobile. And this box which was apparently going to save the day. He just hoped it worked in time to save Phaedra.

Spike hopped over the wrought iron fence surrounding Sutherland Park, hands immediately digging into the pockets of his coat.

He'd stopped at the butcher shop... again... and managed to get himself something that wasn't going to fry him if he ate it.

He eyed Lindsey, who looked a little further from death's door than he had before, and the wolf.

"Well," he said, smiling slightly, eyes dancing. "Here we are now, entertain us."

Oh, great. Billy Idol was quoting song lyrics now. Wasn't that mature?

I rolled my eyes and poked Jason. He had made a real pig of himself at dinner, but I guess I couldn't blame him. He had expended a lot of energy the past day or so without much refueling. All on my behalf. That made me a little warm and fuzzy inside.

The warm and fuzzy disappeared when I looked at Lindsey. He wasn't staggering anymore, but he wasn't exactly at fighting strength. It was not going to be my fault if he seriously hurt himself in the upcoming fight.

I scanned the street. "Heard from the witchy couple yet?"

Jason squirmed, letting out a 'mrph' of discomfort, before settling on the bench, feet stretched out in front of him, burping contentedly. Food. Always of the good.

Lindsey was still itching for a cigarette, but that might be pushing it. Still, he felt pretty spry for an almost-corpse.

Jason turned his head a little, as if listening. "They should be here soon." He frowned. "Little hard to tell."

She had her orders.

First, Phaedra had returned to the house on Lakewood, retrieving her daggers. Saerian knew it had been careless to send her out without them. That would be the first tip off to anyone who knew her that something was very wrong.

After that, he'd prodded her mind again. Told her to go find Lindsey and see if she couldn't finish the job. And Saerian figured he'd be surrounded by friends, or the closest thing he had to friends. The higher demon had planned for that.

Phaedra was always good at finding people. Very good.

Now, she approached the park, smirking, coat tracing her ankles. Calmly, she opened the gate and stood there, smirking.

This, Saerian thought for her, directing the idea to Lindsey, is where we first met.

She raised an eyebrow and continued into the park.

Lindsey stiffened, sitting up on the bench and looking around.

"She's here." He murmured quietly, swallowing as he tried to lick suddenly dry lips. A knife appeared in his hand, and though there was no way it would be a fair fight, at least he'd have something.

"...Which means demon-boy's busy controlling her from somewhere...close?" Jason suggested, standing rather more smoothly, clenching and unclenching his fists. "So, am I staying like this, or going wolfy?"

Saerian was nearby, but not where they could see. Not yet, anyway.

Phaedra leaned on the gate, long legs out in front of her, eyes glimmering with an unnatural amount of something that looked like a mixture of joy and evil.

She was, right now, the least in control she'd been during the whole ordeal. Phaedra wasn't really home, though she did know what was going on. She felt it. And she was absolutely irate and sick with worry.

Don't make me come get you. The thought floated to Lindsey, just like the first one. Ready for that fight we always talked about, babe?

Got a bit of unfair advantage, don't you? What with you shootin' me and all... Lindsey walked away from the others without a backwards glance, barely aware of Jason following, a little behind him.

Which, by the way? Fucking hurt. A little redundant, maybe, but keeping angry made it easier. Now why don't you stop fucking around and face me yourself, *Sean*?

Because this hurts you both more.

Phaedra smirked, watching him approach, head tilting slightly at Jason following. Pale hands rested on daggers but didn't draw them. Besides, Lindsey wasn't close enough yet.

She smiled as he got closer.

"Miss me?"

"All the time, darlin'. But my aim's gettin' better." He smirked, knife in one hand, spinning it lazily in his palm, the other near his waistband, and another knife.

You won't win this. He smirked, eyes cold. I'm gonna stand over your cold, dead body, and watch you die. And I'm gonna find a death that sticks. God, it hurt to see her like this. To see her face, her body, and know that inside it was him.

Phaedra rolled her eyes.

"Already dead," she said, voice sing-song. "And cold." She shrugged slender shoulders.

"I never much liked talking to you," she said, eyebrow twitching up. "So how about we cut the chatter?"

"So soon?" He mock-pouted. "I thought bad guys were all about the hyperbole. Guess you're just different though, huh?" He began to pace back and forth, slowly, keeping his eyes on Phaedra. On Saerian.

Phaedra laughed.

Lindsey would know, though... and anyone else nearby that heard... that it was not her laugh.

It was Saerian's.

"I'm the 32 flavors and then some," she said, eyes following Lindsey.

Without taking her gaze from him, she reached back and withdrew a sword from a spine sheath under the coat, then winked, holding the sword confidently in her right hand. "This," she said, not moving, "is going to be fun."

Lindsey's smile grew wider. If it had been Phaedra pulling that out? He'd have found it hot. As it was...well, he'd just have to level the playing field a little.

Holding his knife out to the side, he smirked at Saerian, blue fire circling the knife as it lengthened, growing into a rather hefty sword.

"You can count on that." He grinned, the expression almost feral as he lazily twirled the sword in one hand, circling Phaedra.

Saerian was impressed, but he'd never show it.

"Clever little cowboy," Phaedra said, watching him circle her.

In another second, she slashed at Lindsey, almost gracefully, sword aiming to cut across his chest, if he didn't block it. Phaedra fought like the fight was a dance; it was how she'd been trained, and something Saerian always loved watching.

He was watching now, from slightly outside the park, arms crossed, concentrating.

"I have my moments." He grinned, meeting her blow easily, brushing it aside with a sweep of his arm. A little less fluid than Phaedra, a little less graceful, but skilled nonetheless.

What, Saerian didn't think Lindsey had spent the last year or so running, did he?

Phaedra turned, slashing at him again, this time from the side. Her free left hand danced near the dagger on her hip.

She was on autopilot, just fighting to fight, because Saerian had told her to kill Lindsey. Fighting was so much a part of her she could do it in her sleep.

And really, Phaedra was.

"I like my tricks better," she said, voice damn near sensual, raising that left hand to trace it along Lindsey's shoulders. A quick bunch of graceful sword swipes followed.

And Lindsey dodged all of them. Nearly.

He cursed as her blade caught his shoulder, slicing through his shirt sleeve, just catching the skin underneath. Like he needed to lose more blood.

And yet, he knew there was no way he was gonna win this one. He couldn't bring himself to hurt Phaedra; he knew she didn't have the same qualms, because...well, it wasn't her.

Phaedra's eyes widened. Saerian was happy. And she focused her gaze on the blood, though there wasn't much.

She actually licked her lips, which Saerian had not had her do. That was nothing but her vampire constitution. With Phaedra out of the driver's seat, that left... Saerian, a demon, and whatever demonic force already animated her.

She tsked at Lindsey. "You're not even trying," she said, sticking out her lower lip.

There was a forceful slash. "Try!"

Lindsey snarled, blocking all the blows he could, but never attacking. But that was never going to work, and he was tiring.

Swearing at length in his head, Lindsey pressed forward, slashing at Phaedra in turn, one way then the other, moving faster than even Phaedra had ever seen him move. He was a blur, now, dancing around her as his sword sang through the air.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Phaedra shook her head, then stopped as the blade bit into her chest, across the shoulder. A slight gasp came out of her throat, total surprise.

Saerian hummed quietly to himself, from his hiding spot. He knew it. He KNEW it. He grinned a little, though he wouldn't allow it to continue. Phaedra would not be destroyed; she was too important to him.

Phaedra growled, picking up the pace Lindsey set, and whirled on him, grabbing her dagger in her left hand and stopping a second blow with it, throwing it off.

Lindsey's blood was racing now, adrenaline giving him that extra push. He pulled his dagger at the same time she pulled hers, whirling and striking low, swiping across her stomach, trying to wound her a little deeper, slow her down a little.

She winced, stomach sliced, but didn't follow the usual instinct of placing a hand on the wound.

Even though being run through would not kill Phaedra, she didn't exactly want that to happen.

She glared at Lindsey from beneath dark eyebrows, jaw set, and hopped up onto a nearby bench, sword pointed at him.

Her stomach healed, knit itself back together. Phaedra smirked, making beckoning gestures with her left hand.

Lindsey shook his head and grinned.

"I don't think so, darlin'." He stepped back, lazily spinning his sword in his hand. "I've seen this play before. Guy on the hill always wins."

She rolled her eyes because Saerian rolled his.

"No fun," Phaedra said. She launched herself off the bench in a cat-like leap--something only a vampire would be able to pull off-- and landed just shy of Lindsey, slicing an arc with her sword as she went. If the blow landed, it would trace a line almost around Lindsey's waist.

Then she faced him, at attention, waiting. "She's not coming back any time soon," Saerian said, using Phaedra to say it.

Thankfully, Lindsey moved back enough that it only caught his side, though that was bad enough, making him hiss in pain.

"You just watch her, Saerian. You know your problem?" He struck at her again, a great sweeping blow across her upper body. "You always underestimate her."

She grinned.

"And you?" Phaedra said, moving back, but not enough to stop the blade cutting a line down her chest, eyes narrowing with pain. "You always underestimate me."

The grin widened a little, haughty glint touching Phaedra's eyes. "You can't possibly think you're going to walk away from this alive."

There was a quick jab with the sword, then with the dagger, both aimed for Lindsey's stomach.

Lindsey laughed.

"Oh I plan on it. Walking away from this alive and kicking. And watching you die. The permanent kind of death, mind." He danced out of the way of Phaedra's strikes, slashing at her once more, aiming for her face, this time.

Her face wore a look of complete shock. Again.

You'd strike at her face? The voice was Saerian's, not Phaedra's. Then there was laughter, loud laughter, and not just in Lindsey's head.

Phaedra wiped a line of blood from her face, glaring as the skin knit itself back together.

"You first," she said, slicing first with the sword, a long line across the stomach, then with the dagger-- at Lindsey's neck.

And the look of shock, of pain - just for a second - on her face, was enough to distract him.

Enough that he didn't step back in time. He gritted his teeth against a scream as Phaedra sliced him right across his stomach, catching the lower of his wounds with the tip of her sword.

He was already falling forward, knees giving out, as she pointed the dagger at his neck.

On his knees on the ground, Lindsey looked up at her, weapons forgotten as he tried to press a hand against the wound, head tilted back, the tip of her dagger pricking his throat.

"Want to tell me the part about walking away again?"

She raised a dark eyebrow, looking down at him, blade pressed against his throat. Did I open some old wounds??

Phaedra swallowed, throat working. The vampire in her wanted nothing more than Lindsey's blood, and right now, the vampire part of her was exceptionally strong. Her eyes had bled to that ethereal green shade they sometimes took when she was hunting, or on a job.

Saerian smiled, unaware of how close Jason was to him.

And Phaedra smiled. "You wouldn't scream for me?" The pout was back. The blade pressed a bit harder.

"For her." He gritted out, breathing fast now, pained noises caught in his throat. "Never for you." He leaned back, trying to get away from the blade, but he was at risk of falling over. And being stuck on the ground with a homicidial, crazy-as-hell demon vampire with a blade at his throat...really wasn't a good idea.

He closed his eyes, trembling. This...really wasn't how he planned on dying.

M'sorry, darlin'.

Saerian grinned.

"I'm not," Phaedra said, shrugging. Shame though. All of this could've gone differently...

"Now, what did we learn from this?" She asked, leaning forward, face almost touching his, blade still in place. Do not double cross a demon, Lindsey.

One hand rested on his cheek now, and the right hand, holding the dagger (sword long since dropped), moved swiftly from his throat to his stomach, a hard stab, all the way to the hilt.

Phaedra kissed Lindsey's forehead, then stood straight, hand still on the blade.

Lindsey closed his eyes, short, shallow breaths that sound pained even as he tried to hold in a whimper.

It was worth it... He opened his eyes again, looking up at Phaedra, at Saerian, face pale. Every damn moment of this was worth it. For her. He hoped she could hear him, somewhere in there.

Closing his hand over hers on the blade, he yanked it out, falling backwards to the ground, still looking up at her as blood poured from the wound, dark and thick, almost black as it flowed over his shirt, soaking the front in seconds.

Saerian, now on the ground himself, and looking up at Spike, who was happily and merrily kicking him in the side between punches, smiled.

"Oh, just shut up already," Phaedra said, kneeling over him, grabbing the dagger and holding it as it dripped blood onto the ground. "I've really had enough of you."

Saerian looked up as Spike landed another punch, and that punch made his vision cloud.

The demon blinked, and he lost control for a second.

Ves'tacha?

Another blink and that control was back, although weaker. Saerian was going to lose.

Lindsey's breath caught, partly from the pain, partly from the feel of her in his head. Not Saerian. Phaedra.

He looked up, seeing Saerian slam back to the forefront, a darkness to her eyes that wasn't there a second before. He closed his eyes, blocking out Saerian, the faint sounds of fighting drifting through the cool night air.

In his head, he was with her. That first night, when he had chased her through the park, back to her hotel. The first time they had fucked. The way she had looked, so open, so human.

Spike more than had Saerian on the ground... he had him completely bloodied, and out of his position of power. He kept right on hitting the bastard, though, not taking any chances.

Saerian felt it when Phaedra regained control of herself, and he swore, managing a hissed curse at Spike.

On the other side of that wrought-iron fence, Phaedra felt like she'd been body-slammed back into herself.

Smell came back first. Blood. A lot of blood. Then hearing. Punches landing, yelling, chanting... a spell? And a voice that sounded like Spike's... Taste was irrelevant. Touch... she felt the dagger in her hand, and turned her head.

Sight. Blood on the grass, on the dagger... Lindsey lying in front of her, stomach ripped almost completely open.

The sound that came out of her was one of total anguish, not quite a cry or a scream, but some kind of hybrid that was reserved for occasions of unparallelled grief. Phaedra dropped the dagger, leaning forward over Lindsey, aware that she had done this.

Her body had, anyway.

Green eyes filled with tears, and she was dimly aware that both hands were covering her mouth to keep sobs from escaping, or just out of shock.

Lindsey would hear her, she was sure. And look up at her... and she'd fall apart right along with him. But right now, his eyes were shut...

Phaedra crossed herself, then bowed her head, sitting on her knees, and starting praying. Aloud.

In Roma.

Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name...

Lindsey stirred at a sound intruding on his fevered dream, a sound that had no place there. He dragged his eyes open, seeing Phaedra kneeling beside him. Not Saerian, not at all.

Darlin'... He lifted a bloodied hand, reaching for her, covering one of her hands with his. His breathing was even shallower now, laboured sounding as he tried to move closer, turning onto his side and gritting his teeth against a scream. I'm sorry...

Phaedra bit her lip fiercely, drawing blood of her own, but aware that if she did not take this precaution she was going to fall apart entirely. She stopped the prayer.

He covered her hand with his and she shut her eyes, a slow trail of tears falling below one eyelid.

For what?... I can never even begin to apologize to you. I didn't listen, I went off alone, and he got ahold of me, and... I shot you.

Her eyes opened, and a few more tears fell. And... I...</i>

She shook her head, hard. "No. Don't you dare," she said, voice heavily accented.

"Si khohaimo may pachivalo sar o chacimo; Te merav, te shordjol muro rat, te lolirav I phuv mure ratesa.. Don't you dare give up!"

She looked around, eyes dancing away from his for a few seconds to see what was happening. Status quo, for once, Saerian on the ground. She was going to kill him.

You didn't shoot me, darlin'. He did. He coughed weakly, face screwing up in pain.

I can't.... He closed his eyes again, letting his head fall back against the ground. Hurts... He tugged on her hand, trying to pull her close, lacking the strength to pull himself up, hold her and kiss her and tell her it was gonna be fine.

Because it wasn't. It never was, not for people like them. When she was close enough, he looped a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her down and kissing her fiercely.

I love you. And you were worth it. All this shit? Doesn't matter.

Phaedra had the sense that she was hurtling downhill, out of control, and felt the bottom drop out of her stomach when Lindsey pulled her toward him.

She kissed him back, fiercely, shutting her eyes, closing the lids on smallish tears.

Stop saying goodbye to me, ves'tacha. Stop it.

She leaned forward, hands tangling in his hair, and smiled gently down at him. "I..."

You wouldn't want me leavin' you without sayin' goodbye first, would you?

He trembled, tears slipping from beneath closed eyelids, tracing lines down his temples and disappearing into his hair. He forced himself to open his eyes, looking at her, drinking in the sight of her.

"Darlin'..." He murmured, holding her chin gently, near breaking at the anguish in her eyes, knowing the same look was in his.

"I love you." He winced, tried to breathe, coughed, and damn near screamed with pain.

Promise me you'll be the one to kill that bastard? A pain-thick voice sounded in her head, wry humour still there, under it all. His eyes closed once more, hand losing it's strength, falling down as his eyes rolled back in his head, body going limp in her arms.

Phaedra shook her head.

Then she managed a genuine smile. That was the first time he'd said that out loud, where anyone could hear it. "I love you, too."

Like you even have to ask? He's dying slowly, ves'tacha. Count on it.

...she felt the strength go out of him... and let him go, standing, numb, eyes clouded with tears.

Phaedra crossed her arms over her chest, covered in blood that wasn't hers, and walked out of the park, completely broken inside, completely unaware of anyone else being there, or anyone else wanting to speak to her or do anything.

Sean sucessfully backed away from Spike, and damn near ran to where Lindsey was lying.

He had been a med student, in life... and he knew what he was looking at. Exactly what he was looking at. He also knew that his new, super-fun vampire sense made him half want to eat this poor guy.

He leaned over Lindsey, checking for a pulse. Still there, but weak. Breath still there, but weak.

He could do this... he really could... he told himself over and over in his head, not filtering the thoughts...

"Lindsey," he said, voice so frantic and so not Saerian that he hoped the man understood who was leaning over him. "Lindsey! You hear me, man?"

He put a hand under Lindsey's head and lifted him, gently, to sitting.

Lindsey moaned, face twisted in a grimace as someone picked him up. He opened his eyes, struggling as soon as he saw that face. And quickly realising that 1) it was a really bad idea, and 2) he couldn't get away.

But there was something different about his eyes...

"It...worked..." He ground out through gritted teeth, smiling, just a little. He looked past Sean, expecting to see Phae. But she was gone. A soft sound of disappointment escaped him, almost before he realised. He knew she wanted to kill Saerian...but leaving him to die alone...

Sean was smiling, gently.

"Yeah, it worked. Hi, I'm Sean."

Oh my God, I can't believe I just said that... I'm such a fucking idiot...

Sean shook his head.

"Listen, mate..." He inadvertantly read Lindsey's thoughts and nodded. "No, she thought you died. Just now. Phaedra... Look, I know more than I want to about... him and about her. She won't ever make anyone what she is. Ever. She..."

Sean looked down, away... I can make sure you don't die. Is she worth living forever?

As he said it, he bit his wrist, holding it out to Lindsey. Choice was his, and he let him know that silently as well.

There would be hesitation, he was sure... and Sean knew what to say, because he could feel it on the surface of Lindsey's dying mind.

If I can deal with this, you can deal with this. Don't be afraid of the rhythm, man, you can dance to this just fine.

He winked.

Lindsey hesitated, looking from Sean's wrist, to his face. No more sunrises. No more Thanksgiving dinner. No more driving down sunlit roads, haze of heat on the tarmac in front of him.

No more pain. No more being alone. No more sneaking out of bed before dawn so she didn't kill him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded, curling his hand around Sean's wrist and lifting it to his lips.

Sean shut his eyes.

He'd obviously never done this before, but he knew how it worked because Saerian had known how it worked, and because he'd been there when the Conduit had done it to his body.

This... kinda hurt. But he really thought he was doing a good thing. He only hoped Phaedra agreed.

Sean gritted his teeth, a slight hiss escaping. Drink until it hurts, then let go.

Lindsey nodded, eyes closing as his throat worked, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of hot blood, again and again until the pain - other than the mind-numbing, bone-crushing pain from Saerian's stabwounds - began to overwhelm him.

He let go, panting hard, looking up at Sean with blood smeared across his mouth.

Sean gently set Lindsey down, back on the grass where he'd been, wound on his wrist already closed.

"It doesn't last," he said, eyebrows raising in sympathy. He'd felt it, even if Saerian'd been in the driver's seat. "It'll stop. Give it maybe five minutes, man.

He sat back on his heels, hands clasped, watching, hoping he hadn't fucked up...

"And I'm supposed to...take your word for that?" He panted hard, clenching his jaw against a scream as spasms wracked his body. He curled up, not even noticing that his wounds were already beginning to heal, too caught up in the pain. And God, it hurt...

It seemed like forever and merely seconds before the pain began to ebb away, and Lindsey slowly straightened, sat up, blinking. He looked around, eyes wide, drinking in everything around him.

"...Holy shit..." He whispered.

Sean smiled. "I'm not wearing a watch," he said... Or I would've timed it.

That, and he would've said the time of death. Force of habit.

The smile reached his eyes, something that never happened when Saerian was home. "See?"

It was a loaded question. As in... 'see why vampires are the way they are?', 'see why Phaedra gets transfixed watching a child play?'

He put a hand out, to help Lindsey up, and got to his own feet, eyebrow raised.

Lindsey looked at his hand, then took it, slowly rising to his feet. He looked past the young man, at Jason and Anita approaching. He was entranced by them, the rushing of their blood in his ears almost too much. He could practically taste them, see their pulses, beating so hard, so fast under their skin.

Sean steadied him, hand out behind Lindsey in case he should stagger backward.

"It's kinda like being very drunk, at first," he said. "Y'know? Where you feel great, like James Bond, even, after six pints, till you try to stand up?"

Jason hadn't done much of anything, but the witches seemed to have finished, and if he and Anita could save Lindsey...

By the time he got there, though, they weren't needed.

"...Holy shit is right..." He'd never seen someone turned before, and watching Lindsey change had been...amazing.

"...Um..." He looked around. "Shouldn't someone tell Phaedra?"

Phaedra was just outside the park, head down, in a complete daze.

Saerian was the only thing she could think about without losing composure. She'd already tested this theory in the last few seconds. Twice.

She'd thought of Lindsey playing and singing for her, and she'd teared, and stopped in her tracks. And she'd thought of him saying he'd 'catch her up some' on kisses, and she'd almost fallen over, wracked with sobs.

She had not gotten far.

Without waiting for a reply, Jason tore across the park easily, chasing after Phaedra's scent.

He didn't have to go far to find her. Screeching to a halt, he nearly collided with her.

"He's not dead." He blurted out. "Well, he is, but..." He bounced from foot to foot, practically reaching out to grab her hand and just pull her back into the park if needs be. "Just come with me?"

Phaedra turned.

"Vhat?"

There was no masking the accent, not when she was this upset. She scrunched her eyebrows together, processing what he said...

Phaedra shut her eyes, very slowly, and counted silently to ten, lips moving. When she opened them, she was bordering on angry.

"Who did it?" she asked, voice threaded with malice. "Jason, tell me who did it. Was it Spike?"

God, no, don't let it be Spike...

Jason faltered, practically cowering as her power rushed over him suddenly, eyes cold and dark. He knew she wasn't an enemy; but right now? She was fucking terrifying. He practically hid behind Anita's shoulder.

He shook his head numbly, vigorously. "Saerian. Sean. Whatever his name is now."

Phaedra's mouth opened in shock.

"Wha....What?"

She was shaking her head, looking from Jason to Anita, rapidly. "What happened? How...You... you got him out of that body?"

Phaedra was incredulous. She half expected Anita to double over laughing and say it was all a joke.

She set her jaw instead. "Show me."

I sobered up pretty quickly. Poor Jason, he was using me a shield. Wouldn't be the first time.

"The witches did it, while Spike and you distracted him. You do need to see it to believe it."

Taking a chance she'd hit or hurt me, I took her hand in mine. I figured she needed the human (sort of) contact right now more than anything. "This way, back where you were before."

Phaedra was far too shocked and far too much of an open wound to really care that Anita was touching her. Had she been in her right mind, though, she'd have been impressed. Phaedra was always impressed when people, humans, touched her and didn't flinch or immediately run screaming.

She let Anita lead her back, head swimming, unable to really process any of the information Anita or Jason had given her. Her clothes--her tiny clothes, and damn Saerian again just for that-- were ripped in places. She was already too exposed, there was too much skin... Phaedra hated that. The rips? Vague memory of a swordfight. Of course. That'd been how...

...how I stabbed him to death?

Incredibly self-conscious, tired, and emotionally bankrupt, she just let Anita take her where she needed to go.

Lindsey heard her approaching, heard all of them return. He turned to face her, waiting, nervous. He was a little too scared to try reaching out to her with his mind, just in case it didn't work. Just in case she couldn't hear him; or in case she didn't want to.

He swallowed hard, suppressing the urge to shift uneasily, eyes bright in the darkness.

Sean watched him, completely aware of how disorienting the entire process was. Hell, he'd had it forced upon him. Don't worry, mate, he told Lindsey silently.

Phaedra followed Anita, head down, watching her feet move, watching the ground move underneath black leather boots. When they got to the little group, she looked up, eyes wet with tears, and her mouth dropped open.

There was a loud gasp.

She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes dancing over Lindsey's face. There was a reason that Lestat and so many other vampires of that type (though, admittedly, Phaedra was slightly different) referred to turning as The Dark Trick. It made things... better. Any beauty that already existed, this process strengthened. Flaws were erased, or ironed out.

Lindsey's eyes were bluer, more clear. His skin looked like hers--pale and half-luminous in the dark. Hair fell across his forehead perfectly, as if it somehow knew exactly where it should go.

She couldn't move.

Still holding on to Phaedra's arm, I tugged her forward. It was like trying to move a brick wall, but I was stubborn enough not to give up.

"I know. It's a shock. But he's not gone, he's still here. And he's waiting for you. You two have a lot to talk about, alone."

I put my hand at the small of her back and nudged her forward. Once she started moving, I stepped back and headed for Jason.

Hell, this had been a long night. I was ready to crash.

Jason slid an arm around Anita's waist, leaning his cheek against her shoulder. "C'n we go home now?" He murmured quietly, playfully pouting. Truthfully, he was exhausted, and Lindsey was...creeping him out a little. He'd never known someone as human and vampire. It'd take some getting used to.

Lindsey bit at his lip a little, near-trembling as Phaedra looked at him.

...Darlin'? He tried, tentatively, to reach her. M'still me...</i>

Sean backed up.

Phaedra didn't look like she was going to try to rip his adam's apple out. Good. But she probably wasn't thrilled with him, either.

"I, uh, I think I'm probably wanted elsewhere. For questioning." He tapped his temple, nodding at the pair before walking away. "You know how to reach me."

Phaedra watched all three leave, and then it was just her and Lindsey. Alone, in the park.

Again.

She managed to take a step forward, eyes still scanning, unbelieving. She shut her eyes, leaving them shut for a long moment.

I know... it's just...

"Quite a shock," she whispered. "Oh my God."

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When she opened them, Lindsey was standing in front of her, close enough to touch, smiling sadly.

"You're tellin' me..." He murmured faintly, gently brushing the back of his hand against her cheek, utterly distracted by the whisper of skin against skin, the feel and smell and sound of everything around him.

Phaedra matched the smile, looking up at Lindsey's eyes, trying twice to speak and failing.

"I'm so sorry," she said, voice little more than a whisper.

Her mind raced. Like Lindsey had thought of no more Thanksgiving dinners, her brain skipped through everything he could not do again--or ever. Part of her wondered if he'd ever wanted children.

She straightened, eyes still wet, still threatening. "I worried that Spike did this," Phaedra said. "Jason said you were..." there was an audible gulp. "... but he didn't say how."

Bang, bang...

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 17:15:52 GMT

Saerian was beaming as she left, watching her walk out of his house, watching her with the thought that she was his.

Contentment wasn't something the demon was used to, but damn if he wasn't there right now.

He'd bristled more than once, found out that Phaedra was still stronger than he realized. But he was winning. As she left now he thought of the worst moment-- during his tenure on top of her on that table, as things progressed, she said Lindsey's name, and he'd slapped her. Hard. Saerian shook his head to clear it.

He'd dressed her and sent her off with a mission. An easy mission, and one that would destroy her like he wanted, while doing what the Senior Partners wanted: kill the pesky cowboy. Shoot him in the heart. Easy. Done.

Dressing her had been more than fun. Getting Phaedra into an incredibly short skirt, and a shirt that actually showed cleavage, was almost more fun than nailing her. That body. That body hidden, covered up... he shook his head again. This was as it should be. Flashes of bare white skin, almost gleaming they were so white. Legs for years, not just days. There was a slight chill in the air, so the duster went back on, but still. Mmmm. He'd licked his lips.

_________________________________________________________________________

Phaedra was headed back to her hotel room. Saerian told her, with certainty, that's where Lindsey'd gone. Besides, she probably had things there she'd want to bring to his place, he reasoned. But now she was headed back to the hotel, evil glint in her eyes, hips almost swinging.

She walked into the building and the kid at the desk let out a low whistle as she passed. The glare she gave him silenced him, and she headed up in the elevator.

Her floor. Back. Ready to go.

She stopped in front of the door, almost coming back to herself, and felt Saerian's grip tighten. She smirked and laughed, lightly, and opened the door.

Lindsey was perched on the end of her bed, cigarette between his lips, staring at the knife he was tossing back and forth in his hands. His cheek was swollen, eye a nice shade of purpley-red as he looked up.

The cigarette nearly fell from his lips as he took in her appearance. He'd known she had a good body, but...

"Fuck me sideways with a chainsaw..." He muttered, staring at her. He stood, swallowing hard. "Jesus, what brought this on?" He looked her up and down, practically drooling, too distracted to notice what was missing. Her.

"I could, but it'd be needlessly messy." Phaedra smirked. Saerian, sitting alone in his house, grinned. "And it'd waste an awful lot of perfectly good blood."

The vampire's eyebrow raised as Lindsey stood, watching him look her over. She ignored his question. There was no answer, anyway. None that she could really give him. The light dancing in her eyes was nothing but evil as she smiled up at him, a calculated, cold smile. "That looks like it hurts," she said, eyebrows both raising as she looked at the damage her punch had done.

"Could say that..." Lindsey frowned a little, stepping closer.

"Y'alright, darlin'?" He murmured, cupping her face with one hand, enjoying the change of clothes but a little surprised.

Didn't think you'd be in this good a mood. And don't think I've forgiven ya for this... He gestured to his face, but the words were only in his head. Her head.

Phaedra... not the vampire standing there under Saerian's control, but actually Phaedra, winced. The light in the eyes, the darkness, faltered for a few seconds. Then Saerian tightened his grip again. He really hadn't bargained on her being such a fucking troublesome little gypsy.

Her eyes shut, head tilting toward Lindsey's hand as he touched her. "Oh, I'm feelin' better now," she said, grinning at him.

For the pretty bruises? Her eyebrow hitched upward, lips parting slightly, watching him, almost daring him to touch her. Thought you liked it when I hurt you.

Lindsey frowned again, looking deep into her eyes.

"Darlin', you sure you're alright?" He threaded both hands through her hair, thumbs gently smoothing across her cheeks, just as they had in Caritas, just as they had the first time they had kissed.

Like it better when you're screamin' my name... He purred. Hell, he was a red-blooded male, and that outfit...well, it got the blood pumping, all right.

Phaedra stared right back into his.

"Mhmmm," she said.

Lindsey's thoughts went straight to Saerian, and the demon flashed on Phaedra saying Lindsey's name with him. The demon growled, out loud. What happened next was like a glass shattering.

Saerian lost control of her, just for a minute. Not long enough for Phaedra to come back to herself, but long enough that Lindsey might see some difference, if he wasn't blind with lust yet.

So then try to make me scream.

Lindsey's eyelids flickered, and he stepped back, frown deepening further still.

"What's going on?" He murmured, the first trickling of unease sliding down his spine as his hands dropped away from her face.

This ain't like you.

Phaedra shrugged, eyes dancing. She probably had a very, very guilty face on. It was impossible not to.

She raised her chin, exposing a long line of pale neck, and bit her lower lip, as though to keep from laughing.

What's 'like me', Lindsey? Do you even really know?

She released her lip, walking Lindsey backward toward the bed, the movement designed to force him to sit and look up at her-- probably starting with a glance at her bare legs.

And yeah, his eyes were drawn to those pale, pale, legs. Up her body, until he reached his face.

"You've never called me that. Not in here." He tapped his temple, then cocked his head to the side.

What the fuck is goin' on with you, darlin'? That feeling of unease was growing rapidly stronger, and Lindsey's hand began to creep towards his knife, left abandoned on the bed beside him.

Phaedra's face grew relatively serious. "Called you what? Your name?"

Saerian squirmed in his seat. Don't, he thought to himself, tell me these two are actually in love... just fucking don't.

He knew Phaedra cared for Lindsey; that was all the weakness he needed. But love... love meant inside jokes. And bonds. And things he could never, EVER know about.

Not without her telling him.

Oh, fuck.

I'm not sure, she thought at him. Wasn't a lie... Green eyes darted toward his hand, closing in on the knife. "You going to stab me?" Her voice was full of laughter. Phaedra leaned forward, straddling Lindsey's lap, despite the skirt, looking him in the face, right in the eyes. Her eyes still danced, Saerian's laughter behind them. "Why?"

"Cuz this ain't you." He stood, sharply enough that she fell off his lap, striding away from her.

"Tell me what you said before you left, darlin'. What did you call me?" His eyes were desperate, pleading with her to know, to tell him. Because if she didn't....oh God, don't let that be true, please don't let that be true.

Luckily, vampires usually land on their feet. Kind of like cats.

Phaedra stood, almost defiantly, a serious, more-than-hint of danger in the look she was giving Lindsey. Meanwhile, Saerian was reading all the thoughts from her that he could, not finding it. Not finding anything that would help.

Yeah. They were in love. Saerian swore, aware that Phaedra's life could actually be in danger, if Lindsey could bring himself to end it. A stray thought, all Phaedra, floated to Saerian. Smarter than you thought, you sonofabitch. And if I'm not the one to kill you, he will be. Count on it.

Just for that, shaking his head at how goddamn brazen Phaedra was being, Saerian gripped harder, like tightening the reins on a horse.

"I told you you weren't coming with me," she said, glaring at Lindsey now. That's all she said... because that's all Saerian had. "And I gave you that." There was a nod to the bruise, followed by a smirk.

"That ain't what I asked." Lindsey practically growled now, that flicker of fear and anger and...jealousy? in her eyes sending chills down his spine. This wasn't his girl. Only a few days, and he knew that.

Knew this wasn't her. Or at least, not her in control. Reaching to the small of his back, he gently clicked the safety off on his gun, knowing he didn't have a chance in hell of shooting her; knowing he couldn't bring himself to even to save his own neck.

And knowing that would be his downfall.

Phaedra smiled at him, almost sweetly.

"Oops."

The laughter that followed was dark, and close to sinister. She heard everything, Lindsey going for his gun, knew down to a fraction of a second how much time there was, what was going on. Phaedra was a professional killer. It was her job to know that. Pair that with who was driving... and the combination was more than lethal. It was malignant.

She shook her head, making calm 'tsk' noises at Lindsey. "Lindsey...."

Phaedra, or, really, Saerian now... the pretense was over... said his name like it was part of a song. Holland Manners used to say it this way. She tilted her head. Had Lindsey not been dazzled by her outfit, he'd have noticed something else not right--no daggers.

But there was a gun. And now it was in her hand. "Wanna play chicken, hm? See who swerves first?"

Phaedra's pale, small hand, clicked back the safety on her own gun, holding it out, aiming it. There was a slow grin. "It won't be me, baby."

Lindsey pulled out his gun, aiming it right back at her, tilting his head a little.

"Saerian, I presume?" He spoke clearly, coolly, holding the gun steady, two-handed.

"Get the fuck out of her." He growled, gaze and hand perfectly still, even as he suppressed the urge to shake with rage. To scream and curse and force him out of there. He knew that wouldn't work.

Saerian, across town, laughed out loud.

So did Phaedra.

"Good guess," she said, nodding emphatically, as if maybe Lindsey were retarded. "I'm not actually in her," Phaedra said, eyebrow arching. Saerian had decided to be as cruel as possible. Love wasn't supposed to be in the cards. "Well, not right now."

Phaedra winked.

Lindsey'd get the gist.

"Yelling at me won't get her back," she said. "She's in there, right now, anyway. And she is mightily pissed off. But I gave her a job to do, Lindsey."

Phaedra's hand chambered a round. Locked and loaded, ready to go. Saerian really loved guns. "Yipee-ky-yay."

"Son of a bitch." Lindsey cursed softly, stepping closer, gun still pointed right between Phaedra's eyes. But he couldn't. Couldn't shoot her, couldn't risk losing her. His hand wavered, face crumbling, just for a moment, smoothing out into an expressionless mask as he lowered his gun, dropping it onto the carpet with a dull thud.

"Good boy."

The delivery of the words was deadpan. All that there was of Phaedra right now was the body, the face.

"By the way? Even if you shot her, point blank, wouldn't have killed her," Phaedra's voice said. There was a grin.

She sighed, shoulders rising and falling. "I'll give you the same courtesy The Conduit gave me."

Both eyebrows raised. Saerian concentrated as hard as he could, Phaedra fighting him every step of the way.

She aimed for his heart. "Last words, Mr. McDonald?" The cadence, the delivery, was all Saerian. "She could've been a sharpshooter, she's that good. She won't miss."

"She won't miss you either." Lindsey snarled, "She'll kill you for this." He smirked. "And she'll do it with a smile." He swallowed hard, looking deep into her eyes. If this was it, there was so much he wanted to say.

But not to him. Not where he could hear. And so silence it was.

"It was good while it lasted, darlin'." Was all he said, standing, waiting. No point in running now.

"So colorful," she said, eyes rolling.

All Saerian's effort went to squeezing that trigger. It was halfway back when he started losing his control.

It was good while it lasted, darlin'.

Phaedra shook her head, as if to clear it, realizing she had less than the space of a breath to do anything, let alone save Lindsey's life. A sad smile spread across her face. Oddly enough, Lindsey's last sentence is what snapped her back.

Clear eyes regarded him, then filled with sadness. I can't stop him, ves'tacha

Saerian was throwing a lamp now, in frustration.

All I can do is... Her arm moved, aiming instead for Lindsey's stomach. Phaedra lost control again, a ragged gasp torn out of her throat as Saerian pushed her back down, back and away.

Her hand squeezed the trigger quickly, twice.

Lindsey felt her rise, a moment of glee before white hot pain lanced through him. He couldn't help the shocked look that crossed his face, knowing that it wasn't her, and yet seeing her shoot him. He fell to his knees, crumpling to the floor as he looked down at his chest, one hole in the center, the other a little below.

He slowly raised a hand to touch the wounds, fingertips coming away crimson as he began to slump sideways.

Phaedra put up the gun, and it was out of sight in few seconds. She calmly strode over to him, leaning down, eyes glistening again, and pushed hair out of Lindsey's face.

"You got lucky," she said. "She might've made sure the wounds aren't fatal." Phaedra tilted her head. "I distinctly remember telling you," she said, voice taking on the timbre of Saerian's, "not to fucking fall for her."

She stood, walking out of the room, still completely unaware of what Phaedra called Lindsey.

She'd buried it as deep as it would go, a place he'd never get to.

Lindsey watched her leave through hazy eyes, heart breaking, just a little. He curled up on the floor, struggling to breathe now, crawling towards the phone achingly slowly. Dragging himself up on to the bed, he held very, very still for a while, pressing a hand against his side, against the wound that he was pretty sure had torn through his lung.

Lindsey picked up his phone, praising whatever god had made him save her number.

*******

He pressed 'call', struggling to lift the phone to his ear, wheezing softly.

" 'nita?" He couldn't hear properly, blood rushing in his ears, pulse slowing, eyes dragged shut. "M'at Phaedra's room. Ssaerian...she's his...gun..." He knew it wasn't making sense, couldn't help it. The phone slid out of his hand, falling to the floor as Lindsey curled up, giving in to the pain.

As if my night wasn't bad enough. First I go head to head with psycho vampire demon, then I come back to the hotel to find Carr gone and Jason hyped up, now Redneck McBubba, Esquire calls my cell phone.

Doesn't having a shitty life give me the excuse to not answer? Guess not.

I pushed the button and snapped,"What?!?" but I could barely hear Lindsey's voice. I strained my ears, heard his words.

Shit had just gone from bad to worse.

"Hey! Answer me! Where are you?" I yelled into the phone, but he had already dropped it. I looked at Jason and raised an eyebrow.

"You up to tracking Cowboy Billie Bob right now? I'm going to grab my gear, get ready to go." I slipped my holster on, the knives went on my upper arms and the backpack with my animating tools went on my back. Might as well be prepared for every eventuality, right?

Lilah had stayed in the room of her hotel after Phaedra left and Lindsey had finally woken up and left as well-with only a few insults. He was too worried about Phae to concentrate on his ex-rival, it seemed. After making phone calls to reassure her mother's safety-and checking in with the LA firm-Lilah had finally been ready to fall into bed-and had done so.

And at oh-fuckin' early-in the morning, she'd heard the gunshots, and had jerked awake. She blinked, pushing long dark strands out of her face, as she tried to orient herself. After a few minutes of silence, suspicions convinced her to exit the bed and leave her hotel room-dressed only in silk pajamas...but also carrying her gun.

She headed unerringly for Phaedra and Lindsey's room, and nudged the door open, stepping in to see the bleeding Lindsey. Her gun was aimed at him, first...then shifted to move around the room to be sure it was empty. Finally, she lowered it and walked over, kneeling next to him. "You're probably going to think my being here is a nightmare-or you're already being punished by the Partners-but I'll help if you let me."

Lindsey dragged heavy eyelids open, glaring at her.

"Don' need your help." He gritted out through clenched teeth, curled up on the bed, hands pressed tight against his wounds. He'd passed out for a bit, but sadly Lilah's voice had woken him up. Oblivion was a much more welcome option.

"Saerian's got her." He growled. "He's controllin' her." He closed his eyes for a long moment, wheezing.

"Wanna help? Git me a plastic bag n' some tape." Whatever he'd seen in Phaedra's eyes, that glimmer of her inside, was keeping him fighting now. Or at least, keeping him awake. Fighting was a lost cause by now. He tried to reach for the phone, pained sob escaping as he realised that was a really bad idea.

Shit, Anita.

"Call Anita. S'the last number. Tell her 'm here. She needs..." HE was shivering now. "She needs t'be warned 'bout Phaedra."

"I heard. And I already knew about Saerian. Had my own run-in with him earlier, but he moved more quickly than I expected."

Both their heads swiveled towards me. Yea, it helped being all mysterious. It also helped having a wolf to track down the bleeding bastard. Blood's a nice, strong smell to track.

I bent down over Lindsey, checked out his wound. It looked bad, as in not good at all.

I looked at Jason. "He's not pack. Do you think I could still share power with him since he's got his own magic?"

Lindsey jerked his head up, breath hissing through his teeth. He had his hand pressed against the wound in his chest, but the one on his stomach was still bleeding sluggishly, leaving a lovely red patch on the bedsheets.

He looked between Jason and Anita, watching as Jason shrugged, chewing on his lower lip.

"Worth a try?" The young werewolf suggested, carefully shutting the door to Phaedra's room. Didn't do to go scaring the rest of the hotel, after all.

Spike had done a decent job of staying out of Phaedra's way. And Lindsey's, for that matter. Two of them could shag themselves down and IQ class, far as he was concerned.

But he did know where the hotel was, which room it was. He'd brought back Phaedra's daggers out of respect.

That didn't mean Spike was the good guy.

Walking past the hotel, on his way to the butcher's, coming back from a spirited chit-chat with Buffy (sarcasm), Spike saw Phaedra leaving the building. In a rush, yeah... but the outfit. The outfit just screamed at him.

There was a low, malevolent laugh, and Spike fell into step beside her for a second. "Love," he said, blue eyes wide, drinking her in over and over, running up and down from her face, over her bared neck, down to her long, exposed legs... "maybe you should shack up with idiots more often."

She'd turned her head, smirking, the look on her face practically daring him to go on. "Looks good on you," he said, biting at his lower lip.

Spike had rested a hand tentatively on her shoulder, and really, he was playing with Phaedra. He kinda wanted her now, yeah, but... there was always a but. And it always had to do with Buffy.

And the stronger vampire, in her short skirt, had punched him in the jaw and walked away. "Stay away from me," she'd said.

Rubbing his jaw, eyebrows furrowed, he'd gone into the hotel, and up to her room, intending to ask Lindsey what the bloody hell was going on.

And seen the entire fucking population of Sunnydale, right there.

"Want to fill a bloke in, then?" Spike asked, peering in through the door. "Your girl just popped me one. And from the looksa things... popped you two."

"Too bad-you've got it, for now." She started for the phone, then stopped when she heard a voice from behind, and looked over to the woman-who must have been Anita. Stepping out of the way, she arched a brow at the talk of power sharing. What was this about?

Then Spike showed up. Lilah gave him one long look, then returned her attention to Lindsey. Hey, at least she could find out what was happening, even if there wasn't really anything to do to 'help', now.

"Oh great." I groaned and looked up at the ceiling. "This? This is what you give me to deal with? Now I not only have bleeding cowboy, I have sarcastic vampire. Why do you hate me?"

Shaking my head, I looked over the wounds and spoke to Spike without looking at him. "Saerian went to the Conduit and got vamped. He came back and took over Phaedra, made her shoot Lindsey. Now we've got to save him and get rid of Saerian somehow. Got it?"

I motioned Jason over. If we were going to try and share power, we would need to raise it somehow....probably with skin.

Jason nodded. He'd seen Anita share power often enough. He grinned a little, hands going to the hem of his shirt.

"Is this the bit where I get to be naked? Or am I stripping off surly and bleeding over there?" He waggled his eyebrows, as Lindsey attempted to swear at them both. And cried out in pain as movement caused stars behind his eyes.

Jason was trying to ignore the scent of Lindsey's blood - superpowered blood, at that - though his eyes were a little less human-looking, hooded and dark.

Spike glared at Anita for her outburst. Bitch was stealing his moves, yellin' up to the Almighty like that.

He stepped into the room completely, watching the proceedings, brow furrowed.

"Saerian did what?"

His voice was about an octave lower than it should've been. He worked his jaw. Still hurt. Phaedra could punch like a champ. "How you gonna save this one? He's..."

Spike didn't say it. He actually managed NOT to ask if he could drink him if he died, too.

I glared at him. "You heard me. Do I need to repeat it slower with smaller words for you or something?"

I shoved Lindsey's shoulder back towards the ground and pulled the remnants of his shirt out of the wounds. I knew it hurt, but I couldn't afford to be sympathetic. It needed to be clean if we were going to attempt this, or even if he was to be saved in any way, mystical or medical.

"I think we both at least need to be skin to skin to raise the power in the first place. After that, I'll have to touch him." Looking at Lindsey, I said, "Trust me, I won't like that any more than you will. But I can't let you die. We need you to kick Saerian's ass." I nodded my head towards Spike. "You too. And no, he's not going to die so stop looking at him like he's filet mignon and you've been stuck on a vegetarian diet for 6 years."

Lindsey gritted his teeth to hold in a scream as Anita removed what was left of his shirt, the fabric stuck to his chest with drying and wet blood, chest making rather disturbing sucking noises as he struggled to breathe.

Jason had shed his shirt, climbing up onto the bed and lifting Lindsey's head into his lap, despite the other man's weak protest. He looked at Anita, waiting for her to tell him what to do.

Spike just stood back, offended and a little sad. Anita yelled at him, and he was still a bit messed up from Buffy.

Plus, no human blood. Vampire sad.

He watched with raised eyebrows as clothes came off. The hell kind of healing was this, and why was it not around whenever he needed something?

I pulled my own t-shirt off, leaving me in my black bra and my jeans. I slid off my boots and socks, I always felt more comfortable doing this barefoot. I mean, really if you're going to be topless or doing sexy stuff, the only shoes you should be wearing are high heeled 'fuck-me' stilettos or boots. And I tended to avoid wearing those foot-torture devices as much as possible.

I ran one hand up Lindsey's chest to get a feel for the wound, not sexual at all. The other hand, though, reached out to pull Jason closer, sandwiching the wounded one between us. That was much more sexual, especially as I pulled him in for a kiss.

Jason could smell the blood, feel quickened breathing as Lindsey's chest rose and fell against his, laboured and pained as he moved the injured man until he was pressed between them. He kissed Anita hungrily, feeling his beast rise, rolling over and over, power sparkling between them, almost like a golden glow on invisible fur, swelling up as he pushed his power into her.

I fed on his arousal, his power. I pulled it into me and used it to raise the magic inside me that I still didn't quite understand. I didn't know how my necromancy or bond to the pack could let me heal but I was more than willing to use it.

I wasn't sure if Lindsey's magic would interfere or welcome the pack energy.

I plunged my fingers into the wound in his stomach, ignoring his cry for the moment. I fed the power into it, hoping it would at least stop the bleeding or knit the wound for long enough to think up a better idea He wasn't pack, so I couldn't completely heal him but I could do this, at least.

Lindsey's cry was a little more difficult for Jason to ignore; all it did was make his beast flare up stronger, blood making him moan. fingers digging in to Lindsey's shoulders.

The human whimpered between them, staring wide-eyed at Anita, feeling the answering tug of power somewhere in his chest, tattoos seeming to stand up off his flesh for just an instant. He could feel his flesh knit together, starting to heal in a way that should be impossible. He took a deep breath, gasping as his lung re-inflated, sealed the breach.

Not healed, not fully. But close. Shallow wounds now, rather than deep holes in his body.

I threw my head back as Lindsey's whimpers reached my ears. I practically dragged Jason over the no-longer-so-wounded redneck so I could run my hands over him. The side effects of the power raised for healing often lasted far longer than it took to raise it in the first place.

I completely ignored Lilah and Spike, didn't even notice if they were still here. Hope they enjoyed the show, because it sure as hell was going on.

Jason growled softly into the kiss, pushing Anita down against the bed. He lifted his head a little, picking up her hand in his, raising it to his lips and sucking her fingers clean, hungrily.

Lindsey lay on the bed, forgotten by Jason and Anita, looking down at his chest in mild disbelief. He gingerly got to his feet, swaying a little, slowly making his way towards Phaedra's bathroom. Hopefully there'd be something in there he could use as a bandage.

There was no way Saerian was getting away with this.

Spike was standing off to the side, slack-jawed. He knew Anita had power over the dead... but what was this?

His eyebrow danced as Lindsey got up, watching the man walk... when two damn minutes ago he'd started a countdown to his last breath.

A seriously dirty smirk crossed his face, and a comment was shot over his shoulder to Anita and Jason. "Alright, then," he said, voice almost a purr. "Nice trick. It work on vampires?"

With that, he turned and went into the bathroom, watching Lindsey's face carefully. "Was it good for you too?" He asked.

But his face was completely serious. Hard, even. Spike didn't like what was going on anymore than Lindsey.

Lindsey leant against the wall, chuckling tiredly.

"Thrill a minute." He sat down heavily on the toilet seat, reaching for a towel, running it under cold water and trying to clean off some of the blood.

"You got a better idea what the fuck that was?" He nodded next door, dreading to think what Anita and Jason were up to now. And smirking a bit as he realised he'd left Lilah in there with them.

Spike was doing his best to ignore the blood, and not just lick Lindsey where he stood.

"Energy, mate," he said, shrugging. "I knew Anita had power over the dead... guess she has power over the wolves, too. No bloody idea beyond that."

He stood in the room now, not reflecting in the mirror near the sink. He smirked.

"You have a plan? I hate the bastard, too, y'know." Spike rubbed unconsciously at his jaw as he said so, then crossed his arms, leather jacket creaking.

"Ain't got much of anythin' right now." Lindsey murmured, tossing the bloodied towel into the bath. He sat back against the toilet seat, eyes closing as he sighed heavily.

After a long moment, he cracked an eye open, looking at Spike. "You're the only one who's not going to get turned into a fucking puppet if you walk in there with him. Mind you, if he's busy controlling Phaedra, not like he'll be able to control anyone else...maybe." That, he wasn't certain of. Not now Saerian was a vampire.

"No plan, but I ain't just sitting here."

"Then don't sit 'ere," Spike said, smirk starting across his face.

"Can't say I'm overly fond of you," he said. "But your girl? I have nothing but respect for her. And that stupid, prissy git messin' with her head? Least favorite blighter ever."

He stood straight, Adam's apple standing out of his throat. "I never pretend to be the brains of any operation, not bloody well ever. But I'll help you. Especially after..."

Spike's eyes went far away, glassed over. "Buffy."

He raised an eyebrow at Lindsey, wondering if he really got what was being said.

Lindsey looked at him, and nodded. Yeah, he got it.

He folded up some toilet paper, pressing it against the shallow wounds on chest and stomach, trying to stop them bleeding, use them as a makeshift bandage. It'd hurt like fuck trying to get them off again, but he wanted to not be bleeding through his clothes when they faced Saerian again. Being in a room with three vampires, and bleeding, was really not a good plan.

He looked around, trying to see if there was a...ahah. Flipping open the front of the mirror, he pulled out a small first aid kit. Not much, but it'd do. He pulled out pads and tape, trying and failing to open them one-handed without bleeding over everything.

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[info]_spike
2007-06-15 13:01 (link) DeleteFreezeScreen Select
Spike bit his lip.

Good thing he wasn't a spur-of-the-moment type vampire. Good thing he had self control. He managed to tear his eyes away from the blood absorbing into a cotton pad as Lindsey taped it, blinking.

"He's not just gonna drop her, mate," Spike said, leaning on the wall. "We had to make him drop Buffy. Witches had to, yeah?" He shook his head, eyebrow twitching again. "Pardon an observation, but Phaedra's an awful lot of trouble. Pft. Seems like the whole of Sunnydale is forever runnin' after her."

A slow grin came over his face. He couldn't help it. "She worth it?"

Lindsey looked up, and arched one eyebrow. And smiled a slow, lazy, utterly wicked smile.

"Think I'd have stood there and let her shoot me if she wasn't?" He pointed out, shaking his head. "She's...yeah, she's somethin'." And yeah, maybe his smile went a little softer, a little more sappy. Tended to happen when he wasn't concentrating on how he looked.

In fact, the smile was pretty much the same one he'd had when he'd picked Phaedra up, back in the warehouse.

"So, what's the plan?" He looked up, blinking a little as if brushing off whatever daydream he'd been falling into. Probably one with naked Phaedras.

"We get the witch to work their mojo? Drive the demon outta the...demon?"

Spike saw the face, saw Lindsey's entire demeanor change, and laughed, but just once.

He had no damn room to be laughing, and he knew it. He wanted a Slayer; he was just as screwed up over a woman.

"So... you pulled a gun on her, too?" Spike raised and lowered both eyebrows. "Good on you. Guess you...couldn't do it, then."

He was more musing than asking. Huh. Love was a funny thing.

"I told you," Spike said, shaking his head, "I am not the go-to-vampire for plans. Ask the Sexecutioner out there."

He sighed. "But if it were me? If this were..." Spike bit his lower lip as if he were going to stop speaking. He didn't. "... were my girl?" He had to fight not to picture Buffy. Spike shook his head again, as if to clear it. "I'd already be out there. Chasin' Saerian. Chasin' her."

"Yeah." Lindsey screwed up his face. "Came close, but...couldn't." Taping up the last edge of bandage, he stood.

"Only thing stoppin' me was bleedin' over the damn floor." He walked to the doorway, waiting for Spike to move. He was sure he'd left at least one shirt kicking about Phaedra's floor.

If not...hell, he'd go without a shirt. He wasn't leaving Phaedra in Saerian's hands. 'Specially not from what Saerian had been saying. What he'd made her do.

Sinking into the bed Lindsey had just kindly vacated for us, I shivered as Jason's tongue slipped over my fingers. I felt the pull deep inside with every move of his mouth.

I moved my clean hand down his cheek, down his neck and over his shoulder. I dug my nails into his back and gasped, drawing his shirtless chest even closer.

Jason growled gently, nipping at her fingers as he pressed closer, letting Anita's fingers slip free of his mouth. He nuzzled at her neck, behind her ear, burying himself in her scent as he ground his hips down against her, clearly very happy to be in the position he was.

I trailed my wet, clean fingers down his chest. My other hand moved down to his hip, pressed him even closer than before.

I moved one leg up so that my calf rested against his butt, pressed him warm and hard against me as I nibbled on his neck.

A shudder ran down Jason's spine as he pressed impossibly closer, moaning softly.

" 'nita..." He breathed, panting softly. He whimpered low in his throat, rocking against her, arms braced against the mattress as he kissed her again.

I slid my hand inside Jason's pants, unbuttoning the top as I slid my leg along his.

I pressed his hand to my chest as I leaned my head back against the bed, biting down on his lower lip.

Jason moaned loudly, hips bucking towards her, breath coming roughly now. He growled approval as Anita caught his lip between her teeth, kissing her fiercely, harshly.

His hand slipped inside her bra, a little awkward at the angle they were laying at, pinching her nipple between his fingers.

I moaned as he slid his hand over my breast and wrapped both legs around his waist. I dug my heels into his butt as I slid my tongue between his teeth, kissing him deeply.

I vaguely knew Lindsey and Spike were in the bathroom, and Lilah was somewhere, but I didn't care. I just wanted more skin, more warmth, jsut more.

That made two of them. Jason grinned into the kiss, drinking down that soft moan, scraping short fingernails over the curve of her breast. He thrust against her, settling into a rhythm, not caring that the button of his jeans was digging into his stomach, just needing the friction so fucking badly.

I panted into his ear with each thrust, raising my hips to grind into his. I shuddered as I felt his nails on my breast, the pain merging with pleasure as it always did for me. Jason knew what I liked by now. I liked it rough, liked knowing how desperate he was for me.

Jason mewled softly as Anita ground up hard against him, shuddering as he came in his jeans, arms trembling as he held his body up off hers, hips still jerking softly, rubbing against her, over and over, panting breaths corrupted by soft moans.

I threw my head back and moaned as I felt him shudder and twist against me, triggering my own orgasm. Sinking my teeth down into his shoulder, I gasped with the tremors and held on to him tight.

I leaned my forehead against his as he rubbed against me, using one hand to pull the sweaty hair off the back of my neck. I knew we had to get up and deal with the rest of the world, but dammit, I really didn't feel moving. At all. Like for the next few days.

Jason panted softly, breathing calming slowly as he nuzzled at Anita's neck, reluctantly rolling off her and on to his back.

"Mmmm. We should do that more often." He murmured sleepily, wriggling about more catlike than wolflike, broad grin as he writhed contentedly against the sheets.

I stretched my arms over my head and arched my back, lossening up my neck. Even with the relaxation that came after sex, the muscles around my neck and shoulders were still tense. Stupid Sunnydale.

"We should. We really should. Though since we've done it a few times since you got her,e I'm not sure when we would even have the time. I have a very busy schedule." I grinned and bit down on his shoulder lightly. "I'd be happy to try and fit you in, though."

Spike and Lindsey came out of the bathroom just in time to see Anita and Jason... winding things up.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Lovely," he said, shoving his hands into his duster pockets. Why did everyone get to have sex, except him? "And can we go now, then? Or do you lot need some kind of post-coital cigarette?"

He reached into his jacket and removed a pack, smirking as he extended his hand.

Jason snorted, looking down at his jeans and grimacing.

"No, but I could use a clean pair of pants..." Lindsey made a face, but nodded towards a pair of jeans on the floor.

"Those should be mostly clean." He murmured, though the thought of the werewolf going commando in his pants was kind of...well, he'd be doing laundry before he wore 'em again.

Jason rolled off the bed in one fluid movement, shucking off his rather messy pants and pulling on Lindsey's discarded jeans.

"It smells like gypsy and sex in 'ere," Spike said, wrinkling his nose. "Wonderful. Again, I say, can we go?"

Both eyebrows raised impatiently. He really was ready to kick Saerian until he bled, and part of him didn't want to be in Phaedra's room. It was a thing. Vampire lair, respect, etc.

"Hold your horses, undead wonder," I muttered as I sat up off the bed. I had long since ceased to care that people knew when I had sex, they can just shut up and be jealous all quiet-like.

I put my hair up in a ponytail and pulled my shirt off the floor where I had thrown it earlier. Sliding it over my head, I watched Jason pull on Lindsey's pants. I owed him some new clothes.....and a lot more. Later.

I cracked my neck. "Ok, now we're ready. I'm assuming the impatience means we have some sort of plan, right?" I raised an eyebrow and looked between the cowboy and the vampire. That felt like it should be a joke, but I wasn't going to go there. I looked at Lindsey's shiny new blood-less shirt and asked, "How are you feeling? Well enough to leave the room for a while?"

"Where'r we going?" Jason had missed that part of the conversation. Mostly because he was...busy. With the sexing.

"We're goin' after Saerian." Lindsey looked at Anita, and nodded. "Even if I wasn't, you think you'd stop me?" He smiled a little, voice quiet. "Thank you. For...whatever the hell that was."

Sitting on the end of the bed, Jason started rolling up the cuffs of his pants; Lindsey was a liiittle taller than him.

Spike smirked at Jason, rolling up the pants. Little wolf. Heh.

"Good trick, that," he nodded, after Lindsey's thank you.

"Doubt this git will be too hard to find. He's so full of himself. I wish I could eat his heart."

"Yea, it's a talent. Came along with the being haunted by the munin, though, so I'd be more than willing to give it back." I made a face at Jason, who smiled angelically back at me. I knew the lukoi were happy I could share power with them and heal, but it was one more item on the freak checklist for me.

"You may not be able to eat his heart, but we can try to come up with a close second. You're the only one who can hit him, and it takes a lot of power for him to take me over. I'm thinking maybe we can double-team him, give him so much to focus on that he can't do any one thing well. He'll have to pick between fighting Spike, fighting Lindsey, controlling Phaedra, controlling me and controlling his own body. We need to make him slip long enough to......do something. I'd welcome suggestions as to what that something should be."

"Can we do with him what we did with Angel? The soul thing?" Jason asked, sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed. "Drive out the demon part? Or would that be worse?"

Lindsey shrugged. He hated planning. He wanted to get in, and beat the crap out of Saerian for daring to touch Phaedra.

Spike was inching closer to the door every second. He arched an eyebrow at Jason.

"Dunno," he said. "Magic not my thing." He fought the urge to call Jason "Lassie."

"Ask the witches, but seems to me, we at least know what he looks like this way."

Spike shrugged. "Me and the cowboy?" he grinned. "We want to hit things."

"So your thing is apparently hitting things, and nothing else. Good. Great. Super."

I sighed. Looks like I would have to call the witches, or make Jason do it. "If we drive the demon out, it would be looking for a new body and I'm not sure what we could do to protect ourselves. On the other hand, the soul his body had when he took it over is still there....and he deserves a chance too."

"Don't worry, you can hit Saerian all you want. But we need to be organized about it, or he'll find a way to turn it to his advantage."

"Cuz he ain't got that already..." Lindsey drawled, arching an eyebrow. He looked at the pack of cigarettes Spike still had in his handed, tempted to ask for one. But considering he'd been lying bleeding from said lungs only an hour ago, it probably wasn't a good idea. Damn.

"What about if me and Carr went in?" Jason piped up. "Wolf minds aren't as..." He stopped, frowning as he tried to explain it. "Your brain goes kind of fuzzy. Not human. Do we know if he can control animals? Cuz if he can't, then..." He shrugged.

Spike began gesturing emphatically for the door. "Ever occur to you lot that Phaedra didn't get the job done, and demon might come here himself for that one?"

He pointed to Lindsey, they raised an eyebrow at the wolves. "What if he can control you, mm? Half of sodding Sunnydale could end up furry."

The vampire was so antsy he couldn't stand it. "Fine, have it your way, bugger it," he said, flopping into a chair.

Spike began gesturing emphatically for the door. "Ever occur to you lot that Phaedra didn't get the job done, and demon might come here himself for that one?"

He pointed to Lindsey, they raised an eyebrow at the wolves. "What if he can control you, mm? Half of sodding Sunnydale could end up furry."

The vampire was so antsy he couldn't stand it. "Fine, have it your way, bugger it," he said, flopping into a chair.

I shrugged. Let him have a hissy fit, he seemed to like it.

"When Saerian used his mind voodoo on me, I asked Richard and Jean-Claude to take a look at it. Once it was weakened, Richard had no problem shredding it to bits, so maybe you have something there. But it's not enough to completely rely on. It would add to the making-Saerian-crazy trying to control us all, though. Hmmm."

I grabbed my bag off the floor, making sure all my essentials were still there. Never knew what you were going to need when going up against a sociopathic demon.

"The more people, the harder it is for him to control, right?" Jason ignored Spike's little drama queen moment in the corner. Lindsey was silent, yet again, still too drained by what had happened to really argue. Realising his legs felt a little shaky, he found a chair and sat down, sighing.

"Dunno," Spike said, voice a monotone, eyes rolled up in his head. "Think so. Not sure. Need witches."

He started inspecting his fingernails, pushing at the black polish. "Witches? Notably not in this room."

He looked at Lindsey, who had managed to sit. Good for him. "Sitting still makes me twitchy."

I leaned my head back and rolled my eyes. I was always amazed at how immature vampires could be even after living for a couple hundred years. You'd think they would grow up. Well, you think wrong.

"I think what Spike so eloquently is saying is we need to go to the witches to talk about this, so there are no misunderstandings. Plus, he's easily bored by the grown-up talk. Don't worry, we'll get back to short words and loud noises soon."

Lindsey snorted.

"So, can we go now?" He murmured, standing with a quiet hiss of indrawn breath, hiding a wince as best he could. Jason looked at him for a long moment, not blinking. He said nothing, though, climbing to his feet and picking his shirt up off the floor.

Spike glared at Anita. It had been a good evening for glaring, what with her and Buffy.

"Have I not been saying this?" he said, answering Lindsey's question.

Spike made a 'pft' noise, shaking his head and rising. Inside though, he was more than a little glad. They were going to joust that demon, he knew it. Knock him the hell out of that body, out of control.

He couldn't wait.

Email waiting for Phaedra

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 17:03:56 GMT

To: phaedra1700@gmail.com
From: [address unavailable]

Subject: unanswered phone calls/assignment

Phaedra-

I've tried for the past twelve hours or so to reach you, but it seems you're not taking calls... a while ago, there was a gentleman that answered on your behalf who told me to go to hell. Who was that? Is your cell phone even on? You KNOW I hate emailing...

Regardless, I've got a new assignment for you. Yeah, I know, go fuck myself... but this is another one right in your backyard. And one I think you'd really enjoy.

We got a phone call tonight from a Mr. Nicolas, originating in Sunnydale. Ever hear of a law firm called Wolfram and Hart? They're based in LA; Jake checked them out. These are the people you live for, babe. Morally bankrupt doesn't even begin to cover it.

Since this email can most likely be traced, I'm not getting big into specifics. I left my email return address off of this for just that reason. But here are the basics.

There's a lawyer in town called LM. Nicolas had some kind of dealings with LM, things got very sour very fast, and Nicolas has hired us to take LM out. I'll be sending a photo of the mark along with this, but basic info continues...

LM was co-president of Wolfram and Hart's Special Projects Unit until very recently. We've got a file an inch thick on the shit that contingent is responsible for. Some of it involves kids. I'll speak to you about specifics once you call me and tell me you've received this email.

We've got reason to believe that LM is staying in the same hotel you are, and if not, is very close by. Attached please find a photo, and give me a call ASAP.

And answer your phone, or get the guy doing the answering a fucking manners lesson.

-Joe

Phaedra sat at the tiny hotel desk, laptop open and on. Lindsey'd gotten up to have a cigarette, and was standing outside on the room's small balcony, watching Sunnydale.

It was late, or early. Late for her, early for him.

Getting dressed again had seemed insane. Instead, Phaedra had put on a tank top and jeans. She didn't mind her arms out, her neck out, flesh exposed, if she was comfortable with who saw her that way.

She hadn't checked her email in something like two weeks, but figured it was about time, just in case.

What she saw made the smile literally fall off her face.

Phaedra had been looking out at Lindsey, smirking at him out there, only half-dressed.

She didn't realize it, but her thoughts were all over the place. The reason she didn't realize it was simple: before now, Phaedra had nothing to lose.

LM. Lawyer, Wolfram and Hart... reading the email made muscles tense all over her body. Eyes scanned over the email again and again.

She was afraid. Afraid of opening the attachment. Of what she'd see. Who the hell else was it going to be?

It was warm enough that Lindsey was only wearing jeans, leaning on the railing that surrounded the balcony, cigarette in hand. He turned to look inside for a moment, smiling at Phae, brow furrowed in concentration as she looked at the screen.

His smile faded as she watched.

Everythin' ok, darlin'? He lifted the cigarette to his lips once more, then ground it out on the railing, ducking back inside the room.

Green eyes darted upward to his.

How to handle this... Phaedra still was not sure. Her mind was racing.

She shook her head, twice, and gestured for him to come all the way back inside, beckoning with a finger. If she had to do this, she was going to damn well have him stand there behind her. And then, when she opened that damn email and saw his face, she was going to call Joe and tell him, for the first time in her career, that she would not take this job.

But then they might send someone else. Shit.

Lindsey's stomach dropped at the look in her eyes. He'd never seen that look.

Strung up in a warehouse by chains, tortured by an insane vampire with a grudge...she hadn't been afraid. So what the hell made that glint of fear come into her eyes?

He walked across the room, sliding onto the bed behind her, arm winding around her waist and pulling her back against his chest as he read the email over her shoulder. He smirked a little at the description of himself, and what he'd said to Joe.

And then stilled. Jaw clenched, arm tightening reflexively around Phaedra's stomach. Hell, looked like he didn't have to worry about the senior partners after all.

"Open it." He murmured at last, voice far too uneven for his liking. Might as well see how good their intel was, how recent.

The arm around her waist actually made her shut her eyes.

Phaedra had, despite herself, thought of Lindsey as a potential mark. She almost felt sick because of it. For a split second, she'd entertained the notion of doing what'd been asked of her.

When his arm tightened, when she heard her voice, Phaedra turned his head, scared green eyes searching his face, and settling on his lap. She couldn't even look him in the eye.

"I'm turning it down," she said, her own voice shakey.

Then, abruptly, she hit 'download attachment,' and waited while the screen resolved the image.

"You do that he'll only give it to someone else." He muttered, eyes closing for a long moment as she clicked on the download, pressing his face against her shoulder, lips against cooling skin.

He watched as the image slowly appeared, breath catching as hair that definately wasn't his, perfectly-plucked eyebrows, and long lashes started appearing.

"That.....Lilah?" His voice was a mixture of relief and total disbelief; Lilah Morgan, in Sunnydale? Aw, hell no. No way that was a good thing.

She'd just nodded at his observation. It'd be reassigned, no doubt.

Relief was an understatement.

"THAT'S Lilah?" Phaedra blinked at the screen, over and over. "That's Lilah?"

She turned her head, looking at Lindsey's surprised face. At least it wasn't him. If need be, she could do this. What she knew of Lilah was mostly negative. "I never knew her last name," Phaedra said. That part wasn't in your blood.

A beat passed, total silence. "She's here. Possibly in this building."

Another.

"Do I take this?"

He nodded dumbly. "Lilah Morgan." He smiled humourlessly. "My old colleague." He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly tempted.

"I dunno. We should find out why she's here. Ain't gonna be coincidence. An' who is it wants her dead so badly." Mostly so Lindsey could shake their hand.

Phaedra's face was priceless. Her jaw was actually dropped, before she realized it and closed her mouth.

She tilted her head, almost a shake, and looked at Lindsey with wide green eyes. The email said the source of the hit had been checked, but Lindsey had a good point.

"Are you ready to see her again?"

The question was gentle; Lilah represented much of what he hated about Wolfram and Hart. Phaedra knew that. Because I think it's time we paid her a visit.

*****

Lilah was tired-but of course, it didn't show. She pulled up in her rental car in front of the hotel and climbed out, then headed in through the lobby. Within minutes she was in her room, nudging the strappy heels off her feet and locking her door behind her-as well as drawing the security chain. Here, at last, alone in her room, she allowed herself to sag against the door, eyes sliding shut. Drusilla was here. In Sunnydale. Teased by exhaustion and alcohol, the memories flooded through her mind for several minutes of that night in the wine cellar.

Finally, she pushed herself upright and began to move towards the bedroom, thrusting the memories aside. There was work to do and though it was late....well, at risk of sounding cliche', there was no rest for the wicked.

The phone call to Joe had been a blast; guy was no help. Ever. Mr. Nicolas had called, blah blah blah...

Phaedra had snapped the phone shut, raising eyebrows at Lindsey as she got dressed to check things out. Tank top was traded in for a very fitted, long-sleeved black t-shirt. Despite the last instance where she fought with them on, the high heeled boots went back on.

Good thing she'd found the daggers outside the door, too, or the whole process would've taken hours. Phaedra was simply not going out without them. Period. But they'd been there, wrapped up, and a slight smile found its way back to the vampire's face. Now the knives were back where they belonged, slung over slender hips.

The elevator ride was quick, and Phaedra was out of the thing like a shot, and down the hall. She waited in front of the door for Lindsey, eyebrow raised, and brought up a pale hand to rap on it.

Green eyes focused on Lindsey's, silently. Also silent was the reassurance that he could handle this, and that they'd find out what was going on.... a playful smirk on her face, dark hair in her eyes, Phaedra waited for the door to open.

This should be entertaining.

At the sharp knock, Lilah stopped in her bedroom door and turned, eyes narrowing. A quick glance was given her watch, before she regarded the door with an arched eyebrow. The only person-besides her secretary in LA-who knew where she was was Saerian currently. What would he want?

Shaking her hair out of her eyes, she strode back to her shoes and slipped them on again, putting on her game face. She took measured steps towards the doorway, then unlocked it-but didn't unchain it. Instead, she moved so she could look through the small crack, and arched a brow at who she saw. A flicker of recognition sprung into her eyes-she knew who Phaedra was due to her file on Lindsey-but she didn't mention that. Instead she merely gave her a curious look. "May I help you?"

A split second before the door opened, Phaedra winked at Lindsey.

She'd forgotten... he'd never seen her work. You're either not going to have a prayer of ever not loving me after this, she told him silently, or you're going to hate me.

Game time. Door swung open. There was Lilah, feigning polite.

Phaedra was not polite.

The door was open enough that the vampire could push her way into the room, face something of a mask. Her mouth was open enough that her fangs could be seen, and her eyes held that cold expression that had made Lindsey's stomach drop more than once.

She walked right at Lilah, backing the lawyer into a chair, then leaned over it, blocking an escape.

"Yes," she said, almost hissing out the word. "We have some questions for you. How you answer them determines whether you live or die."

Lilah's eyes widened a little as she was forced backward, her mind struggling to process that a vampire had just entered her hotel room. Sure, it wasn't where she lived, but she thought the same rules applied. Marvelously not tripping in the heels, she sat down in the chair she was nearly pushed into, and one eyebrow arched slowly as she regarded the woman standing over her.

Phaedra had nothing on Drusilla in the fear factor.

Her gaze shifted past the dark brunette to regard Lindsey behind her. "Interesting way of meeting." She then met Phaedra's gaze again, forcing herself to remain calm. "First of all, as Lindsey would tell you, your threat doesn't mean much because for loyal employees of Wolfram and Hart, life after death isn't much different from the here and now. Now, what are the questions?"

He did love to see his girl in action. He stood behind Phaedra, tshirt and long-sleeved button down covering his tattoos. Carefully shutting the door, he leant against it, arms folded, toe of one boot resting against the side of the other, legs crossed at the ankle.

"Interestings a word for it. And who said anything about loyal?" Lindsey smirked. The lazy Southern drawl was gone; his voice almost accentless, the smart clipped tones of 'Lawyer Boy' that Wesley and Gunn - as well as Lilah herself - were used to hearing. "I've seen the folders you have. Do you really think the Senior Partners need you that much? That they'll protect you from whatever the LA branch want done when you betray them?" He snorted. "Girl, you're dumber than you look." Ok, so maybe he couldn't erase the Southern part completely.

The lack of accent almost made Phaedra look away from Lilah. The voice was completely, completely different. Huh. And here she thought she was showing him what she was made of. Phaedra made a mental note to stop underestimating Lindsey just because he was human.

Phaedra gave Lilah a cold smile, dark hair falling slightly into the woman's face. "I may not be as scary as Drusilla," she said, reading the surface thoughts of Lilah's mind, "but I'm here. She isn't."

Can I make her cry?

The thought was fast, and aimed for Lindsey. But Phaedra was addressing Lilah. "I got an interesting email this morning," she said, not moving, still keeping the woman pinned where she was. "From my firm. I know you're aware of what I am." There was a slow, evil grin. "And I don't mean the fangs. So why don't you tell me who'd pay my salary--which is quite high-- to remove you from the game."

You can try. Don't know there's anythin' in there underneath that suit and polish. He watched, silent, hint of a smile curving his lips. Damn, Phaedra was cute when she was angry. And he could think that without getting a knife against his throat. Probably one of the only people that was true of.

"And what brings you to Sunnydale. That one I'd really like to know."

Wanna see what happens when you peel back the layers? Wonder if she's like an onion...

Phaedra couldn't help grinning. She kept her eyes on Lilah's, waiting for a response. "You may not be afraid of death, Lilah," she said, laughing out the woman's name.

"But there are worse things than death." She shrugged slender shoulders. "I can do all of them."

Lilah's head tilted a little as she studied Lindsey. "You'd be amazed at what I've found since you were anywhere near my files. You're the one who should be afraid of the Senior Partners-not me. Do you really think that whatever it is you're doing to hide from them will last forever?" But she'd keep his secret-for now.

Her eyes met Phaedra's, and she arched a brow as she thought things over. "Considering the fact that there's only a select few that know I'm here....one or two names comes to mine. Of those two....I'm actually amazed he'd call someone else to do it, instead of coming after me himself." Unless he just wanted to cause trouble. She shook her head slowly, then met Phaedra's gaze once again.

"As a matter of fact...I believe it's someone you're well aquainted with." She didn't say the name out loud, but Saerian was most assuredly in her surface thoughts.

"And I'm in Sunnydale on business. Which you don't need to know of, Lindsey, considering you left the firm."

Lindsey's face was utterly impassive, just the faintest trace of a smile.

We need to find out what she knows, darlin'. He arched an eyebrow at Lilah, snorting.

"Maybe you need to find a new line of work, Lilah. This one doesn't pay well enough." Not enough to clean the blood of her hands. He dreaded to think what she'd been up to since he'd left Wolfram and Hart. He was interested in the Senior Partners, not her.

It didn't take much for Phaedra to blink.

Lilah was not stupid, which Phaedra found herself grateful for. Saerian. Right there, on the surface. Like leaves floating in a pond. Now it was in her head, which meant Lindsey could grab it if he wanted.

In the space of one of either lawyer's heartbeats, Phaedra had Lilah by the throat. Not enough to strangle her, just enough to get her point across.

"That name," she said, voice thicker with accent than she'd have liked. "You met him."

Phaedra arched a dark eyebrow, waiting for an answer. "You tried to hire him. I can see it. Know what makes things *really* clear?"

The vampire licked her lips. Whatever Lilah was or was not afraid of, Phaedra knew she had a healthy fear of vampires. Angel, Drusilla and Darla were responsible for that.

"Blood," she said, voice almost bubbly. "What did you try to hire him to do?" Tell me before I start squeezing. Or biting.

"It pays well enough for me." For the time being. At least she had what she wanted...and her mother had the best damn medical care money could buy. That was what mattered.

Lilah gave a nod. "Yes, I met him. Interesting man-though he isn't very good at keeping deals." Her breath caught when her neck was suddenly grabbed-but inwardly she figured she should be used to it by now. Vampires-they always go for the neck.

At the question, her eyes found Lindsey's once again, and she gave a faint smirk. "Why go against tradition? I hired him to kill Angel, of course." Duh. She had a history of that-and hated the vampire currently. But since discovering it was Angelus? She wanted him on her side.

Lindsey arched an eyebrow, slowly walking closer, smirking.

"See, that's where you've lost my trust." He stopped behind Phaedra's shoulder, both of them with matching smirks on their faces.

"I know what the Senior Partners are up to. And I know that they want Angel alive. So you coming here to kill him...either you aren't on business, or you've gone freelance." He tilted his head to the side, a little.

"So, which is it to be, hmm?"

"Also?"

Phaedra could not keep the laughter out of her voice. "Saerian," she said, absolutely HATING that the name passed her lips, "plays everyone. You made a deal with him, or you tried to. Okay. Powerful demon. Useful to Wolfram and Hart."

She paused, head tilting, and squeezed Lilah's neck a little tighter. "The problem is..." man, Phaedra was going to have hysterics soon if she wasn't careful. How could Lilah and the entire firm be so fucking stupid? "... he's not going to keep the deal. My guess is I got that email, I'm here, wasting my time," the words were sharp now, the accent thick, voice and face nothing but malice, "because he wants you busy."

She let go of the lawyer's neck, pushing her back. Hard. Slender arms crossed over each other. "What was the bargain? Angel, in exchange for what?"

How in the hell did you NOT kill her, spending so much time with her? The thought was not sarcastic, in the least. Phaedra didn't know how Lindsey did it.

"It doesn't matter-The deal's off." She responded to Lindsey first, then shifted a little when the hand around her neck tightened, bring her gaze back to the vampire. Her mind was contemplating her words quickly as Phaedra spoke.

Finally, she was released and shoved back into the chair. She took a a small breath, then looked up at her. Not liking this intimidation, she slowly stood. "He wanted access to the conduit." She glanced over to Lindsey. "I'm not sure if he's told you what that is..." She trailed off as her cell phone began to ring.

Slipping it out of her pocket, she pressed the green button and held it to her ear. "Morgan. What? How did he get to it..." She hesitated, thinking things over. "Fine. Bye." Inwardly, she wondered that if Saerian was allowed into the white room...the Senior Partners likely wanted this to happen. She finally turned back to the other two.

"Apparently, he's been to the white room."

Lindsey cursed softly. And glared at Lilah.

"You stupid fucking bitch." He took a deep breath, snarl disappearing from his face as quickly as it had appeared. He ran a hand through his hair, silent for a moment as he tried to think.

Conduit's the link to the Senior Partners. Not many even get in there. Shit, if he was in there, means they wanted him to be. We need to find out what he was doin' in there, darlin'. It ain't gonna be good.

Phaedra had already registered how bad things were. Anything with Saerian was pretty bad on principle. Anything with Saerian usually had direct consequences for HER.

I concur. That's all she said to Lindsey.

She gave Lilah a slow, cold smile, Lindsey's expletives completely peripheral. "Tell me about the conduit," she said. "Tell me what it can do. Within the next 20 seconds. Because my patience," Phaedra continued, eyebrow raising, "is at an end. You tell me or I'll take the information from you. Up to you," The smile became a predatory grin, "Ms. Morgan."

Phaedra contemplated, for a split second, slicing Lilah's throat open and taking her chances. Lilah was lucky Lindsey'd never been in the white room. If he had, she'd already be dead.

She shook her head slowly. "You know as well as I do, Lindsey. If this happened, it's what they want." She tilted her head a bit. "Considering his connection to the two of you...my guess is that they may just be trying to find you through him."

She walked over to the minibar and poured herself a glass of scotch, drinking it down swiftly. "You can do just about anything after going to the white room. The conduit has power no one can conceive of." She hesitated in remembrance. "Last time I saw it, it was a little girl. So it can appear as anyone or anything-and it's whims are the Senior Partner's orders."

Hell if she was going to drink, Lindsey didn't see any reason why he shouldn't. He poured himself a considerably larger glass, downing it and filling the glass again.

"How many times have you been in there, Lilah?" He never had, never got the chance before leaving. Looked like she'd moved up in the world. Either that, or she'd been sticking her nose in places she shouldn't.

Lindsey looked over at Phaedra, ignoring Lilah for a moment.

Can't believe I'm even sayin' this... He ran his hand through his hair, licked dry lips a little nervously. I could go in there. Tattoos'll git me through security. I can get into the conduit's room. Find out what they wanted with Saerian. Even his mental voice trembled with fear. He really, really, really didn't want to do that. But he didn't see an alternative.

Phaedra watched the two down scotch, eyebrow raising.

"It can do anything, then? That's what you're telling me? And be anyone?"

She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, then released it. A cold knot was forming inside her. If the Senior Partners 1-let him in there, and 2-did not kill him simply for entering... things were going to be different. Things were going to be worse.

The thoughts she caught from Lindsey made the tough exterior drop for a few seconds. She couldn't even answer him telepathically.

"The hell you are," she said, voice even. "Are you suicidal?" Phaedra was almost yelling, and shaking her head. Then, as if someone flipped a switch, her attitude changed back. No. There has to be another way to do this. I'm not letting you waltz into there. I'm not making their job easier.

Determined green eyes focused on his. I'm not giving you to them. I'm not giving them the only person that ever--

She blinked. Lilah was still there. Okay. So being in love and having Phaedra's job was going to be more than complicated.

Out loud, she managed the following: "Lindsey, if you go in there, they aren't going to let you back out."

She arched an eyebrow expectantly at Lilah. Start helping.

Her eyes fell for a moment. "Once." She thought about the conversation that she'd witnessed, and the fact that the Conduit hadn't cared one way whether she lived or died. Shoving the memories aside, she then looked back up. "That was enough."

"And yes, it can do anything, or appear as anyone. No one really talks much about what they saw there, however." Or what it meant.

When Phaedra suddenly exploded, Lilah arched an eyebrow, looking back and forth between the two. She gave Phae a faint smile and a nod when the thought suddenly jumped into her mind, then looked over at her former colleague.

"She's right, Lindsey, and you know it. It'd be suicide. Only they wouldn't kill you. They'd punish you. You know the extent of hell dimensions they have access to."

"You got another plan?" He snapped at Phaedra, gulping at his alcohol.

"Thank you, Lilah, I know damn well what I'm walkin' into." His accent was slipping now, drawl creeping back in. "But we need to know what they did to Saerian." Somehow he doubted it was just a friendly chat. Saerian wouldn't just walk in there on a whim. He'd wanted something, and the fact that he'd walked out again meant he'd got it.

Phaedra actually glared at Lindsey. The only thing keeping her from opening her mouth to (verbally) rip into him was the fear that was rolling off of him like drops of water.

"I'm willing to bet I know what he wanted," Phaedra said, voice faraway and soft. She shut her eyes. "If he got it, you," she said, eyes opening, full of anger, "are going to stay as far away from him as possible."

She nodded her head at Lilah, gesturing with her chin at the woman. "And you," she said, mouth curving into a smile. "I'd give you the same advice, but I'd kind of like to see what he does to you. He always did like to play with his food."

Phaedra shut her eyes a split second, unable to stop thinking about her family. She saw, behind her eyes, her father and brother, lying dead. She saw the results of Saerian getting what he wanted. "If either of you have family..." damnit, here we go.... "... anywhere nearby, get someone...something...to guard them."

She ran a pale hand through her hair, dimly aware that what he did 300 years ago, he could do again: take her life and crush it in one hand.

"Lilah," Phaedra said, cold exterior back. "You met with him. What did he say about what he wanted, about why he was back?"

"And you honestly think the conduit would just....tell you?" She shook her head. "You've lost your edge since leaving the firm."

She set her glass down, then turned to Phaedra, arching a brow at her words. Her mother was far enough away to be safe...so she shook her head. "There's no one." But she may just send a team from WH up there, just in case. She tilted her head, absently running a hand through her hair. "Not much, to be honest. His main goal seemed to be causing general mayhem. And he took control of Buffy Summers for a time, sending her after Angel." Did they know Angel was Angelus currently? Maybe she'd keep that to herself for the time being.

"You honestly think I haven't been keeping track?" Ah, but she couldn't see the tattoos. Or the mystical energy that Phaedra had seen straight away. He smirked.

"How is your mom?" He folded his arms, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, sipping at his drink. "Still keeping well? Good. Oh, and we know about Buffy. He didn't do a good job of holding on to her, did he?"

Phaedra felt like smacking their heads together. God, this was going to get them exactly nowhere. None of this was evident in her face or her thoughts.

She set her jaw. That was the only change. Lilah was getting too comfortable. Don't think you're out of the woods, Ms. Morgan. Not for a second. Not only are you still in the woods, but every time you say something we already know, you endanger yourself further.

"Dosta.*" Phaedra waved a hand, dismissively, as though trying to make the two former competitors shut up. "Lilah, we know all about that. Firsthand, you might say."

She moved forward, advancing on the woman. Lilah was taller than she was, even with the heels Phaedra had on, but somehow Phaedra knew she was at least intimidating her. "We know all about Angelus, too. I spent a solid 24 hours with him. I've been playing nice," she said, almost able to feel her eyes changing, going that fiercer shade of green that unnerved people when nothing else about her did. "Now I'm just done playing. I know what he wants. You're telling me he got it. When did he get it? How much of a head start does he have?"

Lindsey, I cannot possibly explain to you how fucking awful this is going to get...

She turned, then, looking from Lindsey to Lilah and back. "You really can't figure out what he wanted?"

::*Roma for "enough."::

Try me. Lindsey looked at Phaedra, eyebrow arched. Darlin', they can do anythin' and everythin' you can think of, and more besides. How the hell am I s'posed to know what demon-boy wished for?

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and arched an eyebrow at Lilah as if daring her to say something.

Phaedra sighed. The longer they spent talking...

She had no idea herself how bad things were going to get. If she had...

"He wants more power," she said, voice close to a yell. Exasperation was close. "Right now, controlling people tires him out. Spike found that out very quickly. Lilah probably did, too. The more power he has, the easier it'll be for him to control people."

Here was that knot again. Bigger and tighter.

Had her heart an actual beat, it'd have been erratic and close to flatline. Phaedra turned eyes wild with fear, green gone to flame, to Lindsey. "You both just told me this conduit can do anything. He went in there and got..."

Roma expletives flew out of her like a song out of a bird. English never covered it when things got this bad.

"... more power. For that body. He got it to turn him."

She'd completely forgotten about Lilah. This was between her and Lindsey.

"....Shit." Lindsey sat down, gulping down the rest of his drink, knowing he really shouldn't have another.

This wasn't good. This was...really fucking bad. He knew he was doing a horrible job of hiding his fear. But he didn't fucking care, not right now.

Sure you don't wanna skip town, darlin'? He asked, voice trying to sound amused in her head, shaking far too much to succeed.

Phaedra turned her head, a knee-jerk reaction, eyebrows both raised, face deceptively young. "Yeah," she said, nodding her head. "Shit is right."

"The Senior Partners wanted him to have this, if Lilah's right. Why? What's worth this?"

She began pacing. "You've both read his file. I know you have. Why would they make him into what he was again? You already know he can't be used for your purposes," she said, eyes darting to Lilah.

Very tempting. Phaedra bit her lower lip, looking carefully at Lindsey's face. Very. Tempting.

Lilah had just gotten the phone call... it couldn't have been long that Saerian was out. And she'd only been out of Angelus's grasp maybe 12 hours, if she was lucky. All of this went through her head at warp speed, but Lindsey could follow it if he tried.

Angry eyes turned to Lilah. I really can't hurt her, can I? The thought went right to her lover. Phaedra wanted Lilah in pain. As much as possible. "Great job, Ms. Morgan," Phaedra said, voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm. "If you believe in God, I'd start praying," she said, making the threat intentionally unclear. Either her or Saerian was taking a piece of her, that was for sure.

Her eyes narrowed when Lindsey asked about her mother. "None of your business how she is." She'd forgotten she'd once told him about her. Moving away from the two, back to the bar, she poured a second scotch. Tonight was a night for drinking.

"My best guess is that he wants you, Phaedra. And because the Senior Partners want Lindsey to suffer, I'm sure, they're willing to help him however they need to in his own mission. Plus, it puts a powerful demon in their pocket as oweing them a favor in the future." She downed her scotch again, fingertip tapping the glass as she thought things over. She didn't appreciate being set up-and that's what the Partners had done.

When the file was mentioned, she gave a small shrug and walked over to a briefcase, pulling out a folder. Since-for the moment-she had to deal with Phaedra and Lindsey, it didn't matter if she shared what she knew about the demon. She walked back over and held it out. "This is the file. It's probably the same thing you already know though, however." She didn't seem to even notice the smoke-it didn't bother her.

"I don't believe in god, Phaedra...but I do believe in me." She gave her a light smile. One way or another, she'd make it through this-of that she was sure.

Lindsey didn't bother looking at the folder; he'd seen it back in LA, when he'd still worked for Wolfram and Hart.

"Do they know I'm here?" He asked quietly, eyeing Lilah. Phaedra could tell if she was lying; he couldn't. But he needed to know. Needed to know how much she'd told them, if she'd known he was staying in this flyspeck of a town.

Phaedra took the file, eyebrow raising, leafing through it. Lindsey may have known what Wolfram and Hart kept tabs on, down to the last crossed T, but she didn't.

...I believe in me...

Lilah's words floated to her as her eyebrows furrowed. They didn't have nearly enough of the pieces of the puzzle. But the firm had done pretty well. There were notes that went back to her mortal lifetime, but there really wasn't much in the way of hard facts. She saw a picture of herself, taken with Richard in NYC, around the time that her own firm was getting press. She smirked. The only picture Wolfram and Hart had of her was one that had been carefully staged.

She looked up, eyes fixing on Lilah, and smirked. "Good for you," she said, sarcasm making the comment pointed. "You're scared. But you are not nearly scared enough."

She slapped the folder back into Lilah's hand and waited for her to answer Lindsey's question.

Don't even try lying.

She tilted her head as she took the folder back from Phaedra, and tossed it onto the table, looking over at Lindsey. "Not yet. I didn't tell them. I don't know if Saerian did." She gave a small shrug. "I didn't know you were here until just after I arrived."

And it was the truth. The only reason she'd done it was that it was because of him, technically, that she'd got the promotion. They always did work better when they weren't at each other's throats.

Lindsey arched an eyebrow at her, not sure whether to believe her or not. But then, if she was really trying to lie, she was a hell of a lot more stupid than she'd been at Wolfram and Hart. And she was still alive, so he guessed not.

"Alright. So Saerian's a vampire. Can't we just send Spike in to stake him?" He looked up at Phaedra.

Phaedra fought the urge to laugh. Stake? Really, was he serious?

"No," she said, sighing out the word. She shook her head, hard. "Not... he wouldn't want that. If the conduit could make him into anything, he'd choose to be as he was."

Her eyes went cold and dark at the thought, and she swallowed hard. "He'd want to be a vampire like me. Like what he was... when he turned me."

She was pretty sure it went without saying, but that made him damn near unkillable.

I'm going after him, she told Lindsey silently. I'm the only one who can now.

Lilah studied the two of them as she crossed her arms over herself. "So exactly what did you have in mind, to stop Saerian?" She figured mentally that Phaedra would probably go after him...it was the only thing that made sense.

Phaedra set her jaw. "If I'm what he wants," she said, voice laced with malice, "I'm the only thing that can hurt him. He doesn't have feelings. He doesn't care. Not about anything."

A slow, completely detached grin spread over her face. "Except for me."

She didn't look at Lindsey, she just started for the door.

Lindsey, of course, followed on her heels, checking his knife was in his pocket, gun tucked into the back of his pants. He'd come armed to see Lilah; hadn't expected to be facing Saerian.

We sure this is a good idea? he asked quietly, thread of fear running through his voice in her head.

Lilah hesitated, watching them start away, then followed after and caught Lindsey's arm. "You'd better stay here. Much as I wouldn't mind seeing you die...I don't exactly want your girlfriend killing me for letting you go." She glanced towards Phaedra at the door, figuring the woman would agree. After all, they weren't too much different, not really.

Lindsey jerked his arm out of Lilah's grip and glared back at her. Then looked at Phaedra.

"I ain't lettin' you do this alone." He murmured, looking at her. And you know you ain't gon' stop me followin' you anyhow. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, looking between Lilah and Phaedra.

Phaedra sighed, looking at Lilah. "You're not helping," she said. "The next time I see you, you'd better be more helpful. Or I will make good on this contract. Count on it."

She looked at Lindsey, walking away from Lilah. Lindsey followed her. She stopped and turned, shutting her eyes for a second, trying to sort through what was going on and what had to be done.

Ves'tacha... Phaedra's face softened. Saerian was going to pay for this. For all of it. Because he was forcing her hand. Forcing her to walk away from Lindsey when she didn't want to. Without another word, she leaned forward, slender hand mingling with his hair, pulling him toward her, kissing him passionately.

She drew back, looking at him. "You can't come with me."

Lindsey's hands automatically slid to the curve of her waist, holding her close as she kissed him.

"M'not leavin' you." He muttered with feeling. Or have you forgotten about Angelus already? I ain't letting you go alone. I got your back, darlin'. Don't you try and stop me.

God.

Phaedra made a mental note to feed Saerian his own heart.

"I know," she said, ignoring Lilah. Let her roll her eyes all she wanted. Phaedra wasn't killing her. That was all the lawyer should care about. She bit her lower lip, eyes growing sad.

But sad wasn't going to get her anywhere. Hard was.

I'm not letting him anywhere near you, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Vampiric reflexes and strength had their advantages. She'd moved so fast Lindsey couldn't see before now. She did it again.

Phaedra reached her right hand back in a fist and slammed it home as hard as she could, knocking Lindsey to the floor.

She raised cold, tired green eyes to Lilah. "What's the expression? Out cold?" Phaedra didn't wait for an answer. Her hand was already on the door, opening it. "I don't expect you to take care of him," she said, stopping in the doorway. "But if you hand him to the partners, or hurt him in any way, I will go after your mother. The partners won't have to. Understand?"

With that, Phaedra left, stomach in knots, to find Saerian.

I will try to fix you...

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 16:37:56 GMT

Lindsey'd carried her, that's all she knew. And carried her half across Sunnydale, hanging on tight.

Past the desk clerk, who looked at the pair like maybe Phaedra was just drunk and passed out, despite the worry on Lindsey's face. Into the elevator, which seemed to take forever.

Through the hall. To her room.

Her eyes weren't open most of the time, but she knew what was going on. Preternatural senses had their advantages. She heard every little thing, including the breaths and blood rushing, the worried heart beating in the chest she was resting her head on.

This entire situation was maddening. Phaedra and helpless did not mix. She would, she resolved, silently, kill Angelus. Slowly, and with pleasure. Faith's supercharged blood had helped, but it was like a sugar-high, apparently. Or a caffeine jolt. She was still hurt, and almost shuddered at the thought of where she'd be had she NOT taken a bite out of the slayer.

She opened her eyes in time to realize they were passing through her hotel room door.

Lindsey laid her down on the center of her bed, having kicked the door shut behind him. He slowly and carefully stripped her off her shoes and clothes, dropping them to the floor, growling softly at the marks which still covered her body. Bringing her hands to his mouth, he carefully kissed the wide bands of reddened skin from the chains that had held her.

"You need blood, darlin'?" He murmured, looking down at her. He tugged his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor as he pulled her into his arms, tilting his head to the side.

What Lindsey didn't realize was that she healed faster than almost any other vampire, except maybe Lestat, Jesse, or those older--and there were very few in that category. What he was seeing was the remnants.

There had been a great many more wounds.

She was aware that she was being undressed, and the reason for it, too, and hated that just as much. As soon, AS SOON as she had the strength, she was going to be a threat. Hell hath no fury...

Eyes blinking, she looked up at Lindsey, who was doing a very good job of taking care of her. She was slightly shocked by that fact, too. She smiled slightly at the kisses, and when he pulled her up, she didn't stop him.

She did need the blood, and she didn't want to hurt him. You're going to have to stop me, she told him silently, lips already on the flesh of his neck, before I hurt you. Don't let me hurt you.

Phaedra was pretty sure she would be unable to stop herself, in her current condition. Current condition? She sighed, shaking, and bit down.

Never. He closed his eyes, tensing a little at the first brush of fangs against his neck, then sighing, giving in as she began to drink, falling into the heady rush of images that flowed through him. He held her tightly, naked body pressed against his bare chest.

Her eyes weren't open, but that never really mattered. Phaedra still saw everything there was to see, in his blood. Things she hadn't seen last time she'd bit him.

He was no saint. What she was seeing confirmed that. The longer she drank, the clearer the images became... what had been a little fuzzy sharpened around the edges. She held him just as tightly, concentrating entirely on drinking, on getting better.

Whatever he'd done, however he'd gotten here, she was glad. Because the same thing that allowed him to visit her dreams, to slowdance with her in Caritas while she was actually unconscious and undergoing torture... that was what fed her now.

She could get used to this.

So could Lindsey. The room was beginning to spin a little, though, and it was with great reluctance that he nudged her mind with his.

Darlin'...'less you want me passin' out you gotta stop... His fingers flexed in her hair, holding her close still, the draw of blood from him making him moan softly, pleasure and pain creating a dizzying cocktail.

It took a second or two for Phaedra to even process that Lindsey was communicating with her.

The images that she was getting were more than a little distracting...things Lindsey'd either never say to her aloud or ever relate to her at all. She was sliding down the surface of things, now... watching Lindsey, lying in the back of his truck, watching a meteor shower outside LA, the first year he was promoted at Wolfram and Hart. Watching him ask a neighbor to pre-tie all his ties so he he could slip them on for work...There seemed to be an endless number of them, so clear, so vivid, that Phaedra felt like she'd been there, a fly on the wall.

Or maybe a mosquito.

With something like a whimper, and a solid 15 seconds after he'd warned her... Phaedra let go, pulling back, eyes wide, pink tongue at the corner of her mouth chasing a stray line of Lindsey's blood.

Lindsey's eyelids fluttered as he forced them open, weak smile as he looked up at her.

"Better?" He murmured, wiping what she hadn't caught away with his thumb, drawing her into his arms. He felt too sleepy to move far, to do anything other than hold her. And right now, that was all he wanted to do anyhow. It didn't matter that he hadn't eaten or slept properly since she'd been taken; she was here now, and he could hold her again.

The smile she gave him in response was close to wicked.

"Much," she said, watching him carefully. She worried she'd taken too much; he looked more than a little woozy. And yet Phaedra was finding it hard to avoid looking at the wound on his neck--the wound that she'd put there. One day you'll explain to me what exactly all that power is doing in your veins, right?

You love me bein' a mystery, don' lie... He stretched tiredly, chuckling softly at her gaze, fixed on his neck. He reached up, running his fingers over the puncture marks high on his neck.

Kinda like havin' your mark on me... Drawing her close, he kissed her softly, then reached out for the phone.

"Room service? Yeah, can I get a medium rare steak, salad, french fries...Mmmhmmm, yep..." He finished ordering and put down the phone, sinking into the soft pillows with a sigh.

The kiss was the first one she was able to enjoy since her release. The softness and the sweetness of it made her sigh.

Not surprised.

"True," she said, laughing a little at his phone call, "that doesn't mean I don't want to know. Whatever it is, I just drank it. I'd like to know the ingredients."

Phaedra smirked, watching him lay down. "Do you feel alright?"

Lindsey laughed softly, pulling her close.

"Yeah. Jus' restin' my eyes a bit." He murmured, both his arms wrapped around her, cradling her in his arms as he relaxed for the first time in days.

"Been a long couple days for all've us..." He turned his head blindly, nuzzling at her hair, burying his face in cool waves.

Being knocked over wasn't a problem; a few hours ago, it really would've been. She smiled, a remarkably gentle smile for Phaedra, almost able to hear his body relax, as well as feel it.

She shut her eyes. Lindsey's heartbeat was still strong, which was good. She hadn't taken too much, then. But she'd come close.

"I know," she said, swallowing back a nice lump in her throat. Then, because she knew for a fact she wouldn't continue believing it unless she heard it aloud, she said, "You met my brother."

He opened his eyes, looking down at her, nodding gently.

"Yeah. Reckon I did." He had no idea how that had happened, how he and Phaedra had touched each other's dreams; something to do with the connection they'd shared, the blood maybe. Or maybe his travels had done more than he'd thought.

"You gon' explain why he called you Little Bird?" He smiled softly, brushing her hair back from her face.

She sighed.

Partly, at least, Phaedra had been hoping that all of that... Caritas, her distancing herself from her body... was nothing more than a hallucination. She didn't want to believe that things had been that bad for her.

But they had been.

With effort, she looked Lindsey in the eye, for a minute flashing back to being in his arms in Caritas and thinking the blueness unfair. "Very little explanation," she said. "The Roma word for 'bird' sounds a lot like my name. He always called me that. Or Little Sister. Never my name." She smiled sadly. "Only girl in a family of boys. They all called me that. Because I was smaller than they were."

Lindsey smiled softly.

"It's cute. Kinda like my sis." And oh, it had been far too long since he'd seen her. Seen any of 'em. Scattered all over the country, the ones that survived that childhood, got their asses out of Oklahoma.

His gaze turned inwards, remembering a childhood he'd gone through a lot of effort to try and forget. Anything was bliss by comparison.

He was jerked from his memories by a knock on the door, sliding out of bed and walking - trudging, more accurately - to the door. He swayed a little on his feet, paying the bellhop and wheeling in the trolley full of food himself. He sat down on the end of the bed rather heavily, stomach gurgling loudly as the smell of the food wafted off the trolley.

Phaedra nodded, own smile getting a little wider.

As Lindsey got quiet, she read him... she couldn't help it. She knew about his siblings already, but not this... not the things that ran though his head now.

His younger sister was called April, but he called her Ladybug. She always, always wore red, at least that Lindsey could remember. She had a ladybug print raincoat that she wore and wore and wore until it was in tatters. Phaedra could see it. She smiled wider, sitting up when Lindsey shambled to the door.

She knew he was hungry, and she knew it was partly her fault.

You wheel that in yourself because I'm sitting here naked? Her eyebrow raised playfully as she stood, walking past him, hand running across his shoulders, and into the bathroom.

Now that she felt better, a shower would be a good thing... She sent him a fast thought to take his time eating.

Ain't lettin' anyone else see just how lucky I am He grinned at her, tilting his head to the side as she slinked across the room, utterly naked and utterly gorgeous.

Damn, you have a nice ass... He attacked the steak with gusto as she started running the shower, shovelling meat and fries and everything he could fit into his mouth. God, he was hungry.

She smirked to herself at both inward comments, starting the water and shaking her head. Phaedra had a feeling Lindsey felt odd with her watching him eat, anyway. She figured it was better not to sit and stare.

Phaedra grabbed a towel, putting it on the sink, looking her body over with something like disgust. She was still healing; in fact, she was more healed than she had been before Lindsey'd offered himself up as a snack.

But there were still some marks. And the hotel's white towels were going to be wrecked.

Sighing, she got into the shower, eyes shut, steam filling the room. The cut on her lip still wasn't healing--it broke open at a movement of her mouth and she swore out loud.

Lindsey's food disappeared in minutes, gulped down with barely a breather. He took a long gulp of the ice-cold beer they'd added, listening to Phaedra shower.

And now he thought about it, why the hell wasn't he in there with her?

Standing, he shucked off his jeans, padding through to the bathroom as she swore loudly.

"Y'alright, darlin'?" He murmured, climbing into the shower behind her, arms wrapping around her waist as he pressed his chest against her back, nuzzling at warm, wet skin.

Did you even chew any of that?

She laughed a little, hearing him make his way to where she was. Oddly, it hadn't occurred to her he'd want to be in the shower, too. Blinking water out of her eyes, Phaedra shuddered, feeling Lindsey's arms go around her. Why did this get her, every time?

"Yes," she said, moving wet hair over her shoulder and out of Lindsey's face. "My lip..." Phaedra sighed, tasting blood in her mouth even as she spoke.

It wasn't the injury itself so much as the action that bothered her. Split lip meant punch in the face.

Lindsey turned her in his arms, bending his head and kissing her softly. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, tasting blood in the kiss, lapping at the split gently before slowly releasing her lip. His arms were still around her waist, holding her against him. And damn, it felt good. Felt right.

Love you, he murmured, still a little unsure about saying it as he kissed a slow path down her neck.

Phaedra sighed, eyes closing, kissing him back. Lindsey was being careful with her, because she'd been hurt. If not, that kiss would've been a hell of a lot less gentle. As it was, she didn't realize she should not be letting him anywhere near her blood, even in small amounts.

It could change him. Right now, she didn't know, or didn't care. Arms around his neck, Phaedra rested her head on Lindsey's shoulder, eyes shut against the water as his message popped into her head. She smiled.

"Against your better judgement," she said aloud, raising her head and looking at him with playfully narrowed green eyes.

Lindsey chuckled.

"Yeah." He murmured, reaching for the small bottle of hotel shampoo, pouring a little into his hands. He reached for her, slowly massaging the shampoo through her hair, fingers kneading at her scalp, down the nape of her neck as he carefully washed the dirt and blood out of her hair.

"But then, I ain't put much stock in my better judgement before. Not gonna start now." He grinned.

Phaedra shut her eyes, letting Lindsey clean her, still impressed and shocked that he was taking care of her.

What she knew of him from his blood, from the way he reacted to everyone from LA, was not anything like this. And though she'd been less than half-conscious when they'd left the warehouse, Phaedra heard Spike and Gunn talking about Lindsey, and how he was acting.

Blood rushed again, and though she hated the sensation, hated its origins, Phaedra processesed what was going on with silent awe, eyes shut against the soap running out of her hair.

Her face felt warm.

She was blushing.

Lindsey caught sight of the flush in her cheeks, laughing softly as he rinsed the last of the soap from her hair.

"Gon' have to feed you more often if you're gonna keep blushin' like that." He murmured, with a wry grin.

The way I acted in L.A....that ain't me. That's what Wolfram an' Hart needed me to be, darlin'. He didn't know how he'd picked up on that; something to do with her drinking his blood, he guessed. Spike an' Gunn ain't never seen me actin' anything different from the lawyer lapdog. It doesn't mean this ain't me, just as much.

The blush deepened. Phaedra made a mental note to slap Saerian once, just for this.

She didn't really want to use him as a blood bank, but she wasn't going to protest, either. Blood was blood; supercharged blood was damn near phantasmagoric.

Her eyebrow raised, mouth opening slightly in something like shock.

"How did you..."

Then she knew. Her hand went to her lip, which was healing faster now than before. Her fingers still came away stained with red, and her eyes darted back to Lindsey's.

We're going to have to be careful, ves'tacha, she told him, eyes glinting playfully. This, she held her hand up, washing the blood from slender fingers, makes you even more dangerous.

Lindsey chuckled.

I ain't got no complaints there. Figure I need all the help I c'n get against him. No need to say who he was talking about, they both knew. He shivered as the shower began to cool, switching off the water and reaching for one of the ridiculously fluffy towels.

She hadn't really noticed the temperature change, except for Lindsey's reaction to it. Cold water made no difference to her; hot just felt better.

"Don't even think about it," Phaedra said, tone reasonably light. "I can't think about him yet."

She squeezed water out of her hair, dark wet strands hanging down her back. Her eyes focused on him, reaching for a towel, and she smirked. There was a very attractive naked man in what was ostensibly HER shower. The smirk became a grin.

"I need all my strength back first."

Lindsey's grin matched hers.

"That so?" He smirked, wrapping the towel around his waist. "Suppose I should be lettin' you take it easy, then..." He purred, stepping out of the shower, offering her a hand out as well. He cupped her face, leaning down and kissing her slowly, sweetly, so tempted to push for more.

"Letting me?" She titled her head, taking his hand and stepping out of the tub.

Her eyes darted over his chest, then back to his face, completely unaware of rivulets of water running down her body. The wounds that had been there when Phaedra got into the shower were lighter even now.

Phaedra kissed him back, fighting back a laugh. You really thing you 'let' me do anything? As she thought it, she kissed him harder, with a fierceness intended to knock the wind out of him for a split second.

Mmmmm....point taken... Lindsey grinned into the kiss, moaning as she backed him up against the doorframe. His hands slid over her body, aching to touch her, feel her again. It had been far too long.

Good. Phaedra pulled back from him just long enough to concentrate on opening the door he leaned on, eyes dark and laughing, mouth slightly open--enough that her fangs could be seen, but not much more. "I take it," she said, hand brushing Lindsey's hip as she grabbed the doorknob and pushed, "you missed me."

Her eyebrow arched on the last word, and before he had a chance to answer, Phaedra had pulled Lindsey through the slightly open door, pressing her body and her lips onto his and pushing him backward, walking him back toward the inner room and her bed.

You really need to ask? His voice, light with amusement, rang through her head, one hand cupping the nape of her neck as they kissed fiercely, his arm sliding around her waist as their towels fell unheeded to the floor. Not like they needed them anyhow.

He turned as they reached the bed, Phaedra falling to the bed first, Lindsey bracing himself on his arms as he kissed her again and again, lips hot and trembling slightly as he breathed against blood-warmed skin.

She fell back, arms around Lindsey, still more than a little amazed at the pick-me-up his blood had given her. Impressed, really.

People don't miss me, Lindsey, unless they're aiming at me.

She smiled against his mouth. This kissing thing was getting addictive. Living by yourself worked well, if you were a vampire or a killer. If you were both, it was a necessity. Anything else was dangerous. Phaedra felt Lindsey's lips tremble, and she shivered.

Yep. Dangerous.

Lindsey resisted the urge to make a corny comment about what he was 'aiming' with...but he snickered softly, nonetheless, face buried against her throat, nipping gently at pale skin.

His hand skated down her side, broad and calloused, sliding over the curve of her hip as he settled between her thighs.

"Stop with the biting unless you want to end up unconscious," she said, voice very breathy, comment ending in a light laugh.

The more he did that, the more she wanted to bite him. Lindsey really needed to learn why that was a bad idea.

She sighed, body shivering under his touch. Eyebrow arched, she noticed as Lindsey moved back that all the wounds, every single one, she'd had earlier this evening, were healed.

Lindsey laughed softly, kissing her neck once in apology, moving back a little.

" 'less I'm unconscious from all the fucking, that ain't exactly how I planned the evening goin'..." He smirked, sliding slooooowly down her body, kissing each faint mark, each place there had been a wound, a scrape, a cut, on her body.

She smirked back. You should be so lucky.

As he progressed down her body, though, Phaedra's eyes shut, and she drew her lower lip into her mouth, biting it slightly.

She knew, without looking, what he was doing. The placement of the kisses was calculated. For about 10 seconds, the tough exterior fell again.

Thank you. Green eyes opened, looking at Lindsey seriously.

Ain't nothin' ta thank me for. He looked up at her, one hand sliding up to cup her cheek, caressing gently. It was ridiculous, really, how one look from her could turn him to absolute mush.

And he didn't care what Spike, or Gunn said. This was real. Right here, right now, this was theirs.

Phaedra reserved what she said next for situations that really, REALLY deserved it.

Bullshit.

She smiled up at him, light dancing in her eyes, aware of what he was thinking and quivering on the inside.

"There is," she said aloud.

Lindsey smiled.

"Alright. Maybe a little. Got people deserve it more'n me though. Couple witches managed to find you, it was Anita's wolves tracked you down properly. All I did was piss and moan an' then run in after you." He laughed softly, sliding back up the bed to kiss her.

Witches. Wolves. Vampires. The hell was this? The Twilight Zone?

She smirked a little inwardly, sitting up slightly to kiss him back, one pale hand holding his face. Her lip was completely healed, now, too.

Might as well be. It was certainly fucking wierd enough. He pushed her down into the sheets, arms bracketing her face, fingers tangled in dark hair as he kissed her, lazily rolling his hips against her thigh, moaning softly.

Eyes shut, Phaedra wrapped herself around Lindsey, returning his kisses, hands running down his spine in idle patterns.

The moaning was giving Lindsey help he did not need, making things inside her respond even more to what he was doing, the press of his weight against her, the feel of bare skin on her bare skin...

Her turn to moan now. A low, soft sound got lost to Lindsey's lips.

He swallowed the moan greedily, drinking her in with kisses and touches, head spinning as his fingers slid between them, brushing softly against her, kissing Phaedra again as his fingers slowly sank inside, curling just a little, working in a slow rhythm.

You've been thinking about this for more than a day, Phaedra shot him silently, incapable of physical speech at the moment. She knew it. She could feel it--him thinking about it and the eagerness and desperation in how he was touching her.

She bit his lower lip gently, eyebrows furrowed slightly, eyes closed.

Was that your torture, ves'tacha?

She already knew the answer. Didn't mean asking wasn't fun.

Lindsey laughed softly. Yeah, he had. But most of the time? Most of the time he'd been thinking of her. Cold, and alone, and bleeding. And as helpless as she was every likely to get.

Somethin' like that, darlin'. He breathed against her lips, a little heavier than before, eyes closed as he suppressed the urge to just pin her down and fuck her.

She already knew that. The concern. He wore it like a second skin. Phaedra was playing with him; if she didn't, the raw emotional content of what she'd just gone through would turn her inside out.

His breath got heavier, and Phaedra caught the thought he threw her--and the one he didn't. Ha. Thanks again for the rehabilitation, Faith and Lindsey...This was going to be interesting.

"So why don't you?" she asked him, voice a whisper against his lips, green eyes glinting less with light now and more with complete and total mischief.

Lindsey chuckled roughly.

"You weren't supposed to see that one..." He murmured, still laughing as he shifted, muscles in his back tensing as he rolled his hips, thrusting against her slowly, teasingly.

"This is gon' be over too damn quick if I do..."

"Your fault," she said, making the chide almost sing-song. He knew it, too. No way he didn't. Whatever he'd done, however Lindsey'd gotten his power, Phaedra's gulps of it made it easier for her to read him.

"You say that so often," she said, eyes downright evil now. "Put your money where your mouth is."

Phaedra was definitely feeling better.

Lindsey arched an eyebrow, sliding his hands down Phaedra's arms, curling around slender wrists. He was about to pin her arms above her head, but he got a sudden flash of her hanging there, so fragile-looking, in the warehouse.

Swallowing hard, he pressed his hands into the bedcovers instead, slowly sinking into her with soft pushes of his hips, low gasp falling from parted lips.

Phaedra knew why he stopped, and for a second her face went blank and serious.

She'd laughed it off, all of it. Even when she was vacationing in her head to get away from what was happening, she made jokes. She'd joked with Angel about staking Angelus, for God's sake.

Her lips parted before his did. I'm stronger than that, ves'tacha. That's all she could give him without tears.

He slid into her and her head dropped back, hair falling into and over her face, hands around Lindsey's neck. She still managed to look him in the eye.

I know, darlin'. Stronger'n me, too. It was true, and he hated it a little, but it had kept her going. Kept her fighting.

Dropping his head, he kissed her hungrily, his hair falling in a curtain around their faces. His hips moved, a little less soft, a little less slow, hungry and needy for more.

Phaedra sat up slightly to meet his lips, impatient. Waiting the two point five extra seconds wasn't going to do it.

She squeaked, eyes closing, kissing him just as passionately, everything below the waist was like a slow burn, less slow every second. All she could feel, smell, taste... all of it was him. A low, empassioned groan found its way out of her mouth.

Start giving yourself some credit...I am stronger because of you.

Love the way you sound like this... Even his voice in her head was husky, thready with need as his hips thrust into her, grinning as a slender leg wrapped around his waist.

"Hold on tight, darlin'..." He purred, one hand braced against the headboard above them, the other curling under her body, fingers slipping up and hooking around her shoulder, holding her against him as he thrust hard, hips snapping forward with a low moan.

I can tell, Phaedra told him silently, eyes squeezing shut tight then back open as he moved.

She smiled at him, the grin more evil than it would've been a few hours ago, as he pulled her against him. Her cheek rested against his, mouth open, jaw slack, hands digging into his shoulders, clinging to him.

It wasn't a moan this time. It was closer to a scream, and it turned into a slight laugh.

Lindsey groaned, lips parted, pressed against dark hair as he fucked her. This wasn't sex, or making love, or any number of euphemisms. This was hard, and fierce, and abso-fuckin'-lutely perfect.

Good thing she felt better. If she didn't, Phaedra wouldn't be enjoying this nearly as much.

But hey, she had been the one to throw fragility out the proverbial window. She'd asked for it. Her mouth opened again, but no sound came out. Instead, Phaedra's lips skated along Lindsey's jaw, not kissing, just grazing, the groan from him making things inside her run cold.

The good kind of cold.

Pale hands held onto his shoulders tighter.

Lindsey growled softly as nails scraped down his back, feral grin curving lips still pressed against her hair.

"Dig in, darlin'." He murmured husky approval, capturing her lips in his, feeling the soft slide of her legs around his hips as he slammed into her, over and over, unrelenting rhythm that he knew wasn't gonna last long.

Phaedra had the dim knowledge that she'd drawn blood.

She didn't care, and Lindsey didn't seem to...but she could smell it. She'd made him bleed. That, added to the grin, the sound of his voice, and the fact that Lindsey was damn good at what he was doing, made her moan again, loudly, almost in the middle of the kiss.

God, she felt good. But it still wasn't enough, couldn't get close enough, couldn't feel enough...he rolled them over, smirking up at her, his hands holding her hips, coaxing her to move, groaning as he pressed deeper inside her, lost in the way she looked above him.

There was a slight ragged gasp at the roll, the sudden movement, and Phaedra settled herself, looking down at Lindsey, so fucking far gone that her eyes had probably bled to a deeper, clearer green by now.

She shut them, momentarily, mouth slightly open, the feel of Lindsey's hands on her hips, of him so deep into her, of everything, making her sigh out something that was half a moan, half a cry. She started to send Lindsey a thought and found herself unable to actually form it properly.

Instead, she gave him a seriously wicked smile before dropping her head back, hair falling around her bare shoulders, and going completely over the edge.

He caught the edge of a garbled thought, his own mind not much better off. That smile, that wicked, wicked smile, had him groaning, hips twitching, watching as her head fell back, biting down hard on his lower lip.

She was beautiful, and he had to force himself to keep his eyes open, watching as she came, his hands clutching tighter at her hips as he spilled deep inside her.

Phaedra's head fell forward, muscles below the waist not quite done dancing, completely and totally blissed out. Pushing her mane of dark hair out of her eyes, she looked down at Lindsey, sighing.

She leaned forward, playfully nipping at his chest, slight smile on her face.

"Mind if I ask...." she laughed, largely because getting words out of her mouth was so tough. "... ask you a favor?"

The grin that sent him over the edge was back on her face.

He arched an eyebrow.

"I dunno...depends what it is." He laughed huskily, throat worn out now, rather than gritty with lust. Well, ok, still a little bit.

"Not fair, askin' me when my brain's dribblin' out my ears."

"It's an easy vahn," Phaedra said.

When she got tired, or... distracted... her accent was always heavier.

She arched an eyebrow in return, eyes shutting for a split second as one more shudder ripped through her body. (Yeah, it was that good.)

"Can we just... not... go 24 hours without doing that, ever again?"

And Lindsey was more than happy to distract her if her voice went all low and husky like that.

He laughed, pulling her down and wrapping his arms around her body, both hands cupping the back of her neck, fingers sliding into her hair as he kissed her, slower, less fierce than before.

"I don't think that'll be a problem, darlin'." He murmured, nuzzling gently at her cheek. All he wanted to do was curl up and sleep with Phaedra in his arms. But they couldn't sleep past dawn like that. Something he'd always hate.

He didn't know when he'd started thinking about 'always', about getting used to things...but it had happened. Just a few days with this girl in his arms and his bed, and he was already thinking long-term. He was in the best kind of trouble.

Hotel Room Search

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 16:16:51 GMT

Lindsey had a cigarette dangling from his lips before they'd even left the house, patting his pockets for a lighter and cursing when he realised that he'd - or more accurately, he and Spike - had destroyed the only one he had.

"Got a light?" He turned to Nik, doing his best to ignore Gunn. It'd be easier all round. "I need to stop by my hotel room." He continued. "We're goin' in against Angelus, m'gonna need some shit." Mostly, his knife. He could use one of Buffy's, of course, but he always felt better using one of his own.

"Usually." She patted the jacket o' pockets down before producing a Zippo with some arcane markings. "Have at. So, you two have a bad connection or somethin'?" Before they could answer further, or give her a look, "Actually, I know you two are bad blood likes, but what's the story, morning glories?"

She wasn't worried about the lighter; it'd find its way back to her, thus the little spell on it. Hey, she was from England, and she'd done the grad school thing along with the occult thing - someone always smoked, and someone always managed to steal a lighter. She was prepared.

Gunn was shaking his head. This was going to be GREAT.

He silently thanked God Niks was here. He could seriously, he thought, kill Lindsey. Happily.

"Like what?" he asked, deciding to be the bigger person. "I just dropped a bag full of weapons in that house."

He arched an eyebrow. "He keeps tryin' to hurt and kill my friends," he told Niks, shooting a look at Lindsey.

"I like usin' my own weapons." Lindsey muttered, taking the lighter with a nod of thanks to Niks. He lit his cigarette and passed it back to her, rolling his eyes.

"I'd say nothin' personal, but we both know that'd be a lie." He smiled charmingly at Gunn, then glanced at Niks. "I used ta work for Wolfram and Hart. And do I need to point out I ain't tried to kill one of yous since I left?" He arched an eyebrow at Gunn.

"Right, okay, bad decision in choice of conversation. But I don't think the words 'since I left' are really all that sound in the whole 'you shouldn't be mad at me now' defense. So, why don't we try something else? How bout those Mets?"

She had more or less settled into walking between them, which probably wasn't the safest place, but she could take care of herself. Those pockets held more than the norm, and she was sorta making with packing heat.

"Since you left?" Gunn's voice was raising. "Right. That makes up for all those other times. You bangin' a vampire. I could argue you aren't in your right mind."

He muttered the next part under his breath. "Your right mind is pathological hurtin'."

Gunn smirked. "The Mets suck."

"Hey, like you weren't tryin' to kill me!" Lindsey's voice was a little louder now too, hand waving in the air demonstratively. "Your boss cut off my freaking hand!"

He rolled his eyes at Nik's attempt to diffuse the situation, snorting. "Hey, what do you know, somethin' me and Shaft agree on."

She smiled, not really into the whole baseball thing, and she couldn't help the following joke, as bad as it was.

"Eh, I wouldn't know, I don't keep up with basketball." The smile actually grew, and she just kept walking.

"So, what we need is something that has a strong emotional tie, and something that would carry her scent. As much as I hate to say it, some type of undergarment would work for scent..." And personal bits, gods, this wasn't the best part of the job. "A blanket, sheets, but if you've spent a great amount of time with those, it'd mix the scents and the location spell. Specially if it was a highly emotional moment." Or highly sexual.

Gunn snorted. "I know you don't root for the Angels," he said, not even bothering with the rest.

He could point out that he wasn't responsible for Angel cutting off his hand. Or that he hadn't even really worked for Angel then. In fact, Gunn had HELPED Lindsey when he'd asked for it, bringing a vampire into Wolfram and Hart and distracting security so the lawyer could steal important files.

He turned his attention back to Niks. "Yeah, what she said," he said. "Though I do not want to be thinkin' about you and anyone on any sheets, man. Just get us there. Less time I gotta spend with you, the happier I'll be."

He grinned at Lindsey.

"Likewise." Lindsey muttered, taking a deep drag on his cigarette. He smirked a little, wondering if the watcher would blush.

"She doesn't wear underwear." He murmured, wicked grin firmly in place. "An' those sheets'll smell just as much of me as they do of her."

"Then we need something else. Does she have a favorite pair of shoes, pants, a shirt?" Niks didn't know the woman, so she wasn't sure. "I would say weapon, but that would have too many scents as well."

There wasn't any blush, not even a roll of eyes or "whatever" glance. It was just a matter of fact. She looked between the boys; did they have any idea how much she might be able to read in their words?

"We need something that is just hers."

"I hate you," Gunn said, the inflection and delivery damn near comedic perfection. "Why you gotta make me picture that?"

Lindsey was immature. File under 'absolute truths.'

"Well, we gettin' close, right?" He raised an eyebrow at Lindsey. They were passing the Espresso Pump, which was close to the middle of the town. "Gotta be close."

"Just bringin' a little sunshine to your otherwise dark and dreary life, cueball." He grinned brightly, turning right, across the street towards Phaedra's hotel. Ignoring the desk clerk, he headed straight for the lifts, pulling Phae's spare room key out of his pocket.

"Looks like Wesley didn't need to worry about breaking and entering." She tsked softly, hands still in her pocket. It wasn't like she couldn't have broken in if that were necessary.

"Yeah, keep pushin' my buttons," Gunn said. "Just keep on keepin' on, country boy."

He sighed, getting into the elevator as it arrived. There was a joke here. About elevator buttons. But he wasn't in the mood. He looked expectantly at Lindsey.

"No way to go but up," he said, leaning back on the panelling of the elevator car. The doors shut.

Hell, it was too easy. Lindsey didn't bother to make a comment, pressing the button for Phaedra's floor, humming quietly to himself as the lift rose. He stepped out, heading for Phaedra's door, not bothering to check if Niks and Gunn were following.

"One of you have a cell phone and mind a 411 check?" Yeah, she had a few people to call. "Or you can do the whole call the butcher thing."

She was going to get that damn blood. She pulled a small tin of mints from a pocket; just a quick pop of one and she offered the tin to the other two.

Gunn stepped out of the elevator, following Lindsey and shaking his head. He took out his phone, handing it to Niks.

"Here," he said, watching Lindsey out of the corner of his eye. "Use this."

He took a mint, smiling at her, and popped it into his mouth.

"Aight, Lindsey," he said. "Let's raid your girlfriend's underwear drawer."

Rolling his eyes, Lindsey went straight to the closet, rifling through Phaedra's clothes.

He pulled out a tight shirt he'd seen her wear; it still had a bloodstain on the front, and, after checking Gunn was busy rifling through her drawers, he lifted it to his face and breathed deep. Yeah, it smelled of Phae.

"This'll do." He muttered, putting the shirt into a bag. "Get your paws outta that drawer, an' lets go."

There was a smile and a wink for Gunn; he wasn't that bad of a hoodlum.

"Whose blood?" She nodded towards the stain. "Can't use it if it's not hers and only hers."

She shook her head slightly, turning her attention to the phone.

"Sunnydale, California. Butcher. Thanks." The operator didn't seem too bothered by that. "Yes, dial it please."

She paced the room, looking over the room; her brows furrowed slightly as she was trying to figure out what to say next.

"Yes, hello, I need blood. A large amount, fresh. Thanks." She blinked. "Well, that was easy. Who knew."

Gunn raised an eyebrow.

"She got a point," he said. "You know for sure that's Phaedra's blood?"

He slammed the drawer he'd had open. Nothing in it that'd work, anyway. No clothes, anyway. Something about going through the posessions of what he understood to be a cold hard bitch vampire made Gunn a little uneasy, anyway.

"Might wanna grab somethin' else," he said to Lindsey. Then there was a laugh and a shake of the head for Niks' phone call.

Lindsey turned back to the closet, sighing heavily. He didn't like this. But if it helped get Phaedra back, he'd do it. Looking down at the tshirt, he suddenly remembered where the blood was from. Laughing softly, he took it out of the bag.

"Yeah, sorry. S'mine." He pulled out a couple more fitted t-shirts from the bottom of the closet, crumpled and worn-looking. Placing them in a bag, he turned back to Niks and Gunn.

" 'kay, we're done."

"Right." She tossed the phone back to Gunn with one hand, the other was busy putting away the tin. Her aim wasn't bad at all.

"I know it sounds a little clinical, but we have watch out for cross contamination. Send a bunch of bruisers after the wrong bad guys; that could be dangerous, or at least time consuming."

"So, I'd say we've got two places to stop. Your place and the butcher's."

Gunn actually felt his mouth drop open. "Girl bled you? Shit, I might have to like her."

He grabbed the phone out of the air with one hand, tucking it back into his pocket.

"Let's hit it, then. We burnin' daylight."

Lindsey did a bit of a double-take at that, surprised to hear Gunn say the same thing Phaedra's...brother, was it? Had said in her dream.

Shaking it off, he headed for the door, holding it open for Niks and Gunn, locking it behind him.

"Ain't far to my hotel. No idea where the butcher's is." He looked at Niks - she'd been the one to phone, after all.

"Right." She'd gotten the address. "Any clue where Acker and Quinn meet?"

It wasn't like she had a map memorize quite...yet. She'd get it down soon enough; it was a habit, but the bitch was findng the city map.

Gunn nodded. "Yeah, me and wolf-boy were walking around before, I think I got an idea."

He looked at Lindsey. "What's wrong with you?"

He'd seen the reaction to... whatever it was. Looked to Gunn like Lindsey'd seen a ghost.

"Let's go, I haven't slept in forever."

"S'nothin'." Lindsey shook his head, voice gruff as he headed for the elevator.

Sooner he got Phaedra back, and got out of this damned town, the better.

"Mmm, nothing." She took a lean against the elevator wall, brow raised. Someone was lying. Then again, the cowboy was covered in lies. The whole "I'm not here" bit that danced over his skin.

"So this shouldn't take too long. Small towns are amazing with what they'll put up with."

"Right," Gunn said, voice full of 'I'm-not-buyin'-that.'

The elevator made a 'ding' noise as it reached the ground floor. Gunn stepped out.

"This town?" He gave a short laugh. "It's like the Manson family reunion. All torture, all the time."

"And they say Hell-A is bad..." Lindsey murmured with a wry grin, waving to the desk clerk, who was looking between his cctv screen and the three of them with a look of extreme confusion.

"Just keep walking." Lindsey murmured to both of them, smiling with clenched teeth as the desk clerk looked at the screen again, then made as if to shout after them, a security guard beginning to take an interest.

She watched the poor deskman and then back to Wyatt Earp. Yes, there were lies going on.

"The town is in extreme denial about what's going on. It tends to happen in areas of occult." She shrugged slightly. "It's nice and Stepford."

Gunn did his best to be unassuming... unfortunately, his impression of unassuming kind of sucked. The security guard was making some kind of phone call, looking at Gunn as they left.

He agreed with Niks. "They might all be slightly brain dead," he said as they went through the doors of the place. "Or, y'know, more than slightly."

This little errand was making him realize just how odd Sunnydale was. Hell, they were off to get blood for a vampire... and save another one. The hell?

"Hey, it's the 'burbs." Lindsey pointed out. "Like Hell was gonna be anywhere else." He shuddered, the thought of living in a house that looked like everybody else's, with a cookie-cutter wife and a cookie-cutter kid, filling him with dread. He'd rather have his heart ripped out.

"Hotel's this way." He nodded down the street, heading towards his hotel room. A lot less fancy than Phaedra's, but then he wasn't on company money.

She'd stayed at Phaedra's hotel, but she rather liked the whole bugging Wes for a bed. It really was better than sleeping in a hotel.

"I don't know. Normalcy isn't so bad really. Cookie cutter worlds means every cookie has the same flaws; randomness is decreased, and if there is a flaw, a weakness that's different, everyone can see it, not just one or two." She sighed softly; hey, everyone had their issues.

"Ain't we supposed to be savin' the world?"

He raised an eyebrow, amused they'd gotten from the above train of thought to cookies.

"This you?"

The hotel was right in front of them now. More of a motel, really.

"Yep." He dug into his pocket again, finding his distinctly less high-tech roomkey; actually a key, rather than an electronic card. He led them up the stairs to his first-floor room, along the hall and inside.

...Ok, so it was a mess. Clothes on the floor, sheets rumpled from Phaedra's visit earlier, and his guitar still sitting in the open case on the floor. Carefully lifting said guitar out of the case, he laid it on the bed, flipping open the false bottom of the case.

He pulled out two throwing knives and sheaths, slipping them on to his arms and buckling them tight. Pulling his sleeves down until they covered the sheaths, he continued to rake around in the case, adding a handgun, tucked into the back of his trousers, and a larger knife which slipped inside the waistband of his trousers.

"Wow, Gene Autry never had that when he was out on the range. Probably would have saved him a time or two." Yeah, she was a little strange.

She took a lean in the doorway, arms crossed as she gave the room a once over before she turned her attention to patting down her pockets.

"That's a lot of weapons for a guy who sleeps with things that bite," Gunn quipped. "Thought you kinda liked pain."

He was smiling now, looking around the room, hands in his pockets. Gunn had his own weapons on him; one of his guns was in a pocket, and he ws regretting not having a holster. He also had his stakes on both wrists, the ones he'd used earlier with Jason. That already felt like a long time ago.

"You plannin' on goin' all Crocodile Hunter or something?"

"I'd ask if you were always this much of a pain in the ass...but I already know the answer to that one." Lindsey snorted, carefully returning his guitar to the case, flicking the catches shut and sliding the guitar under his bed.

"I ain't got a thing for pain, city boy. An' just cuz you think you know me? Don't give you the right to judge anythin' about my life." He really couldn't be assed showing Gunn the knife trick - he'd see it if they needed a little help when they brought down Angelus.

Now came the rolling of eyes. It was like she wasn't even there. Really, guys were worse than girls.

"Why don't you to just kiss and get it over with?" She shook her head and headed out of the room to get back on the street and snag some blood for a silly vampire.

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that."

He glared at Niks, then at Lindsey. "I ain't judgin' you. Far as I'm concerned, you dug your own grave a long time ago. Round about the time you became junior partner, partner."

He turned on his heel and left the room. Time to get going.

When he realized Lindsey and Niks were probably just standing inside the room wondering what his problem was, he yelled back to them. "Got stuff to do before the sun sets, right? Get a move on. I wanna meet the woman that made you bleed... and shake her damn hand."

Lindsey followed, closing and locking the door once they were all in the hallway. Wouldn't make much of a difference if someone really wanted to get in, but it made him feel better. Once again, he had a cigarette between his lips before they were even out the door, turning to Niks to ask for another light.

There was a slight nod and a toss of lighter back to cowboy. It really wasn't a big deal. Her hands were back in her pockets once he gave it back.

"So, now Acker'n Quinn. Then back to Summers' place."

"So exciting," Gunn said. He was getting annoyed by the whole thing. He sighed, looking at Niks. "Sorry, I don't do well with being errand-boy."

He looked at Lindsey as soon as he was done speaking. "I'll take it as a personal favor if you let that one fly over your head," he said.

"You gon' shut up about me and Phaedra?" Lindsey arched an eyebrow at Gunn, looking him up and down as they started walking.

"Cuz if so, I'll let that oh-so-easy one slide."

Niks did the walking thing, still staying in the middle. She let Gunn do the guiding thing mainly because she had no idea she was going at that exact moment.

"Right, this is exactly how I planned today."

Gunn smirked, looking over his shoulder at Lindsey as he led the way back to Acker Street.

"Look," he said, "I told you. She made you bleed? I respect that, even if I got a problem with you. And with Wes and Anita tellin' me she got a soul, well..." Gunn shrugged, the gesture looking awkward on his heavy frame. "... You know I don't like you. You don't like me. Quit tryin' to kill my friends and we might be okay... especially if you're takin' up with a woman who can kick your ass six ways from Sunday and make you beg for mercy."

"We cool?"

He kept walking, stopping and turning down a side street a minute after he was done speaking. "Acker," he said. "Butcher shop, right there."

Lindsey nodded, realising it was probably easier in the long run that way.

"We're cool. For now." He muttered, looking where Gunn pointed. "Ok. So, we get the blood, we get back to Buffy's - which, I gotta say? Not the most fearsome vamp-killer name ever."

"Neither are Faith, Kendra, Niki, Kishi, Elaine, White Doe...rarely do they even look like they can do harm. It's part of the whole package I think."

Just a little on the Watcher side of things, yes.

"I'll be right back. Be good or there will be no cookies when we get back." She disappeared into the shop, lucky that it was open this early in the morning.

Not a fearsome name? His name was Lindsey! Gunn bit his tongue. Almost hard enough to draw blood. He was gonna be nice, if it killed him.

He raised an eyebrow at Lindsey. This truce thing was NOT gonna hold. "Why are we feeding Billy Idol, again?" he asked.

Hey, it wasn't as bad as Buffy. And c'mon, a vigilante called 'Gunn'? If he hadn't seen the guy's birth certificate, he'd have said it was fake.

"Because he's the strongest out of any of us." Lindsey pointed out. "Bar Frisky and Anita, maybe."

She came back out with brown bags. The female Watcher sighed softly, shaking her head.

"You would not believe how easy that was. I mean, sure, I could be doing some experiment, but in this town, I'm probably doing something on the creepy evil side not simple little experiments." Yes, she was only slightly outraged at it all.

"Let's get this shit to Blondie; would hate for it to clot." Yeah, make the woman carry the blood.

Clot? Gunn fought the urge to wretch.

"Strongest..." he looked at Lindsey. "Man, he couldn't even smack you back before. What's he gonna do if one of the Slayers starts puttin' the hurt on him?"

Hadn't anyone thought of that? Gunn really didn't entirely trust Spike. Okay. He didn't trust him at all. About all he liked was the mutual hatred of Lindsey and Angelus.

"Let's get back," he said, sighing out the words.

"He can keep Angelus busy." Lindsey shrugged. Plus, he was immune to Saerian's mojo.

And huh, that was the first time he'd thought about Saerian since Phaedra had left. At least Angelus was good for something, he supposed.

"I have a feelings the Slayers aren't makin' with the hurt because Peroxideboy isn't exactly 'I'm gonna eat yer babies an' dance in your intrails' anymore. Though he really wasn't much of the chow down on the infants type - just blood sucking and maiming really." Okay, so she did sound a little too nonchalant about it. "Not that that's a good thing."

She settled into quiet walking, wondering about the blood, but she was in Watcher/Talamascan/way too much information for any one person's good mode.

"Actually I think if all of you stand in a circle around Angelus, he might be too busy trying to decide who to hurt first that no one will really get hurt. This Angelus has always had real issues - not much of a true multitasker. Then again, not many vampires are. Very singular goal oriented types."

"I don't plan on givin' him the time to decide," Gunn said, unconsciously fiddling with the .45 in his pocket.

"How long we got to do this ensouling stuff? We can't go there till sundown, right? Wherever Lindsey's piece is?"

He sighed. "I hate this."

"Dependin' how powerful Li'l Miss Witch is, she should be able ta do most've the spell before sundown." He lit yet another cigarette, giving voice to the words in his head he really didn't want to think about.

"Phaedra'll be dead until sundown anyhow. Angelus' probably leavin' her alone. Ain't no fun if your victim ain't screamin'. Not for him, any how."

"Hold up," Gunn said. "The hell you mean 'dead?'"

Oh yeah. He wouldn't know...

"The type of vampire Phaedra is; the ones that have the mind mojo and all that shit. Like Lestat. They don' just hide from the sun like Angelus and Spike and the bumpy faces you're used to." He took a long drag of his cigarette, watching the road ahead as they walked.

"The soul, whatever is keeps em movin', it leaves when the sun rises. They die. Literally. Can't wake 'em, can't move em. Dead."

"You ain't kiddin', are you?"

Gunn's eyebrow raised, watching Lindsey's face. "Damn." He blinked dark eyes. He was silently both amused and horrified. Lindsey slept with one of these things? Soul or not, that was still scary. Apparently the lawyer was more screwed up than Gunn thought.

"Wait... Lestat's real? Shit, did I come here on the short bus or something?"

"Lestat, Louis, Claudia. Les Theatres. All real. Then again, so is the not so secretive Talamasca. Rice's been makin' a nice bean or three off those narcissistic bastards." Her eyes rolled at the idea. It really was ridiculous.

"I like Sunnydale's usual vampires more; at least with them you know where you stand. Unless their names are William or Liam - Spike, Angel..us respectively." Just in case someone didn't know.

"Huh."

Gunn said it with feeling. Go figure. "So, let me get this straight... Phaedra's got a soul. These Anne-Rice type vamps have souls. Everyone has a soul, except for the vamps I'm used to. That about the size of it?"

His eyebrow arched up, not really waiting for an answer. "Damn, I may have to come up with a new philosophy on life."

Lindsey fought the urge to make a smart comment. See? he could be nice. And polite. He could even be courteous, if the occasion called for it.

Flicking the butt of his cigarette into the bushes, he watched the orange glow fade away, hands sliding into his pockets as they walked. He felt a hell of a lot better now he was armed. Besides, Saerian couldn't control three of them at once, right?

"Well, we're not sure it's a soul or not. We suppose it is a soul because that is really the only word we have for it. The animus if you will. Then again, they are also considered damned souls, damned for being out of the natural order. All vampires are considered that. They are the walking, living dead." Her lips pursed slightly as she very much wanted to not be the blood carrier.

"There are few theories on why they drink blood too that go with the whole living thing, but it's really not that important now I suppose." She had gone into bookish girl mode again. "Sorry, it's not everyday I deal with the whole multiple veins, pardon the pun, of vampirism."

"You like Encyclopedia Brittanica in there," Gunn said, shaking his head and laughing.

They were close to being back to Buffy's. A few more blocks. Good. This was taking forever, in his opinion. And less time with Lindsey? Bonus.

Lindsey half-listened to Niks; he knew it all, had done from Wolfram and Hart's records. He was still trying to work out how much time they had, if they were taking too long to get back to Buffy's.

Hell, he didn't care, just as long as they got Phae out of there.

The female Watcher shrugged slightly at comment; she didn't know as much as she would have liked. Then again, that said set of encylopedias was found lacking at times. One hand was stuffed into her pocket, the other had to contend with bag o' blood. It really wasn't the best job in the world, and unfortunately, fate had decided she was one to do it.

"Wesley is probably worse. Then again, we're all a little on the spouting too much information side. We have special training sessions for it." There was a hint of a smirk.

Gunn grinned. "Wes is worse."

What? It was true. Sometimes talking to him required cross-referencing. He'd sent Gunn to the dictionary more than once, just in casual conversation. And despite what people thought of him, Gunn was not stupid.

"Aight," he said, turning the corner, feet back on Revello. "We're back. Feed the mosquito," Gunn said, nodding at Niks, still smiling. "We have some strategy to deal with."

Getting down to research.

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 16:07:24 GMT

Wesley watched the door slam behind the departing trio, and hopd they found what Willow needed. Then he put it out of this mind, so he could better focus on the problems in front of them. And they were large and intimidating.

First, they needed to locate the warehouse where Phaedra was being held captive by evening.

Second, they needed to find a way to ensure that the witches would remain safe while working their spell.

Third, they had to find a way to hold off Angelus until he could be made Angel again.

Fourth.....where was Buffy? He hoped she didn't mind them taking over her house and sending her little sister off with the Executioner. But then, Dawn had volunteered and there was no reason not to so....Anyways.

He sat down on a chair, avoiding sitting next to Spike or Lindsey. He looked at Willow, asking her, "Are there any books you need to study for the spell? Any help needed there?" Then he turned to Gunn and said, "We're going to need to come in with strong firepower and a plan. I would welcome your input, you were always better at the planning thing than I, especially when it comes to brawling."

"Brawling? You really just said that, didn't you?"

Gunn smirked.

He knew there had been some kind of... vision... or something that a few of the others had been in on. He hadn't.

"Warehouse. What kind of warehouse?"

He arched an eyebrow, looking at Spike. "And how well do you know Phaedra?"

A number of very filthy, very wrong comments flooded Spike's brain. He managed to hold them all in check. He didn't feature being on the receiving end of another punch from Lindsey. Not when he couldn't hit back.

He offered Gunn a cold glare. "Not well. Just well enough to know that this one," he said, gesturing to the man on the other side of the couch, "must REALLY like sarcasm and stab wounds."

Spike's eyebrow twitched. "Why?"

Gunn glared in return. Vampires.

"You know what she smells like, right? You can track her."

Wes raised an eyebrow.

"Now there's an idea....using Spike like a drug-sniffing dog. Only substitute 'vampire' for drug and, well, 'vampire' for dog."

He stopped and thought about it. That really did sound ridiculous.

He shrugged. If it worked, who cared how ridiculous it sounded?

"Or Frisky the Wonder Wolf." Yeah, Lindsey'd heard that conversation. Picked up a surprising amount of energy for someone acting as submissive as he'd been, too.

He rolled his head from side to side, trying to work out the kinks in his neck. God, he wanted a cigarette. And, preferably, to not be stuck in a room with two people who pretty much despised him. But hey, if wishes were horses...

"I don't like the 'using Spike' idea," Spike said, taking a few steps toward Wes.

"Frisky has left the building, lackbrain," he added, glaring at Lindsey. "I don't mind tracking your bint, but I will not be used or referred to as anyone's dog."

He bit the inside of his cheek, aware this was taking a bad turn and really, REALLY not caring. "You lead the charge of the Light Brigade," he said, nodding at Gunn and Wes. "I'll get you there. But you can bugger off. Pft. 'Use Spike.'"

Wes blinked a few times, taken aback. He hadn't really thought Spike would have taken offense, though he should have....he seemed kind of touchy.

"I'm sorry, perhaps those were the wrong terms. But really, Gunn took me by surprise. I hadn't even considered it as a workable idea. I figured maybe a spell or....never mind."

He had forgotten all about Jason's wolfiness, or he would have suggested that as well. They needed all the help they could get.

"What about you?" he said, pointing at Lindsey. "What can you do to help? Because sitting on the couch mocking other people really isn't constructive."

Gunn returned the glare.

He had a few choice comments about what vampires were good for, that was for sure. The only 'good' vampire there was, in his opinion, was Angel. And even that didn't seem concrete.

"Yeah, I'm with Wes," he said, crossing his arms and looking at Lindsey. "Let's hear your ideas. You got a brain in there. I know you do. Wolfram and Hart wouldn't have made you Golden Boy if you didn't. And if this girl means as much to you as your face and your attitude are tellin' me she does, then you should have a lot to say."

There was a soft cough from the only non-witchy female left. She had listened to the posturing and sniping, and while it was amusing at times, it really was a waste of energy.

"Fellas, while you do all the planning, and nice allusion there, Spike - two points, they don't have to be right there," she'd been listening to the two conversations. "I can stay behind to help out; think a quick run back to your place, Wes. Grab a few more projectile type weapons, and we're good. Don't think he's going to come after all of you at the same time, even though at this moment it wouldn't be that hard seeing as you're all in the same building. So, that's that, eh?"

Spike nodded, eyebrows raising. "I read. Surprised?"

He sighed, settling himself back onto the couch. "Weapons. Yeah. Good. That still leaves us without a plan, all bursting into a warehouse full of Angelus and full-strength crazy. Oh, and no Slayers."

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and fiddled with it. Respect for Buffy was the only thing keeping him from lighting it.

"Well, I didn't think you were actually cognizant of the original battle that, I guess you might say, inspired Tennyson. Then again, you could have also read Kipling's reply. Doesn't matter...." She paused trying to think of the cowpoke's name.

"Do you have something of Phaedra's they can use, Lindsey? We wouldn't need to 'use Spike' if they can locate her. Might also want to locate Buffy and Faith while you're at it." She gave the witches a smile.

Willow was more than a little caught off guard by the whole thing. She hadn't have this many people involved the last time. Then again, she wasn't exactly running for him.

"Actually, Tara and I can do this from here. Not sure how much Buffy will like that, but I think she'll be all for re-ensouling Angel. We could just have someone or someones do the protecty thing while we do the chanting and circling?" She gave Tara a look to make sure she was okay with it. "We could probably also do a locator spell. We've tried it before, but that was for Demons, maybe if we focus on Angel..us. Maybe just vampires, I mean I know they're a lower type of demon hybrid thinggummies, but would it really be that different? So, yeah, maybe we can do that."

Brows lifted in question as she waited for the responses.

Tara's eyes darted as each guy talked about what to do next which led to arguements. Men. It's a wonder why she never took much interest in them in the first flace.

When Willow spoke up, however, she looked over and listened to her plan of action. Staying in the house sounded good - and was doable. "I-I think we can do the ensouling spell from here, yes. Un-Unless Angel, evil A-Angel, took her to Boston or New York, the spell should work within a certain radius of where we perform the spell."

It might prove the best, not because Tara was afraid of getting eaten by Angelus, but so they can do the spell without interruption.

The Locator Spell, however, was another story. Vampires or not, the locator spell was there to seek out demons... and Tara did NOT want to be found out.

"Uh... m-maybe it's b-better if we use our energies on the ensouling spell, sweetie," she told Willow in a quieter voice.

"You think so? I mean, we could do something with it. Maybe use some of Spike's blood? I mean...no that wouldn't work. Maybe you have something of Phaedra's?" She thought that was the name, and of course, she was talking to Lindsey.

"But, baby, if you think we'd be better doing just the ensouling..." Okay, so Willow was a little excited; she wasn't ultra anything can be solved by magic, but she was damn close. "I just thought you'd...you know, it'd help. We've never done it and it work...but okay."

Yeah, she wasn't doing ultrasmiles, but she wasn't going to push it either. There was a soft kiss to the blond witch's cheek.

"Maybe we should go look over the spell and then, uhm, nap?" Hey, they could think whatever they like, but Will meant it. They needed to be ready. "Or maybe nap first?"

Tara smiled, reddening slightly even though Willow could've meant something entirely else. There were people there, some she didn't really know.

"We can," she all but whispered to her lover. She saw the flicker of disappointment about not doing the locator spell, and guilt suddenly panged at Tara. "Uh, if we do have something of P-Phaedra's, that might help, though. You can nap and... uh, I can do the locator spell if we have something of hers. It's like conserving energy."

"What're you on about?"

Spike was finally getting the part about a spell, and not being used. "Oh, something of hers? Ooh! Oooh!"

Suddenly he was almost bouncing. "We have that!"

A huge grin spread across his face. He glared at Wes and Gunn. "Maybe I don't need to be the bleedin' bloodhound after all..."

Lindsey sighed. Oh, wasn't this fun.

"Phaedra took Angelus out before; we get her free, she can help us do it again. We need two groups; one to distract Angelus, trap him somewhere, and the other to get Phaedra out. She said that Faith was there - she likely to be on our side, or has the rogue slayer turned to the dark side?" He arched an eyebrow at Watcher-boy, tapping his fingers on his leg.

"And yeah, I can take you to Phaedra's hotel room. Y'can have your pick. Or there's her cellphone..." He fished it out of his pocket, throwing it to Wesley. Or, more accurately, at Wesley.

"Failin' that, I say we kill him." He shrugged. "Ain't no great loss to me."

Wesley snatched the phone out of the air, glaring back at Lindsey. He really had a problem.

"Great, we can start with this while Lindsey takes one of us to look for more." He turned to Gunn. "Would you be willing to go? You know what we would be looking for, right? Personal items, clothes, etc."

The question of Faith, though...that required thought.

"Faith used to do bad things just for the sake of doing them, for ruining people's lives. But Angel really put a scare into her not long ago, that's how she ended up in prison. The fact that she broke out doesn't mean she isn't still somewhat on the side of good, just means prison was more than she could stand. If Angelus has been appealing to her selfish, bad side...well, we'll just have to find a way to bring out her good side."

He smiled weakly. "I'm open to suggestions."

Lindsey shook his head.

"I ain't goin' anywhere with him." He pointed at Gunn, glaring at both Wesley and Gunn. Lesser of two evils was Wesley, since Spike couldn't leave the house right now.

Gunn raised both eyebrows

"It's mutual," he said, voice thick with the street accent that had only gotten worse since he'd been here. "We ain't got much of a choice here, though. Wes has shit to do. I can't go through all the books and find the stuff he can."

He crossed his arms over his shoulder. "Besides, no one breaks into hotel rooms and rifles through drawers like I do."

He winked at Lindsey.

Spike chuckled. At Wes. "Oversimplifying the Faith situation, aren't you?"

He was very amused that Faith may have gone back to the dark side. "Last time she was here, she hijacked Buffy's body and walked around in it. She's a murderer. God, people, she's like me... Prison kept her in check, like the bloody chip. She's on a leash, and she's runnin' out of slack."

He was amused at Gunn and Lindsey. "You two," he said, nodding at the both of them. "If you start drawing blood, I'm getting a cup."

"People can change. Sometimes. If they want to. That's besides the point.....as much as Faith dislikes us all, if we weren't around she wouldn't have anyone to torment and that would bother her more. So let's appeal to what exists of her good side, ok? Don't feed the evil."

Wesley breathed a sigh of relief when Gunn agreed to go. He really didn't want to go with Lindsey, and he was much more useful here. As he had told Niks, criminal activity wasn't taught at Watcher school so he was still quite new to it, and prone to clumsiness. Well, he was generally prone to clumsiness, but he was much better now than before. Put a weapon in his hand, and not only would he hurt what he was aiming at, but he even managed to not hurt his own team!

"Remember the whole needing a plan thing? I suggest we work on that."

Willow just watched as the boys went into boy mode. She squeezed at Tara's fingers, her body leaning into the blonde's ever so slightly.

"I can help you with that spell too, sweety, but we need something more personal than a cell phone. Right?" Cell phones had electronics that could upset the whole mojo vibe, maybe. Well, not for Willow, but Tara was more attuned to other things right? Her fingers squeezed again. "We can take a nap, and then we get to work."

Okay, so she was a little bouncy at the idea, not that she liked what it meant. Angelus was out there and so were her friends.

"Fuck me. It's a bloody wonder things get done in this world with males in charge. Wha' with the pissin' contests an' such." She gave the witches a smile and a wink before giving a stretch and stepping forward.

"I'll go with Shaft an' Doc Holiday to riffle through the delicates. Or just with D-sorry, Lindsey. Wes, Gunn, weapons? And Spike can sit there, look pretty while protectin' the witches. Maybe rest up? Maybe someone should get some blood while there out? Pale is great - sexy I'm sure - but cadaverous is just..." See, she was nice, somewhat.

Lindsey rolled his eyes.

"Alright. You two work on a plan, me and baldy'll go get somethin' that belongs to Phae." He turned to Spike, smirking a little.

"Got any preferences, puppy?"

"Yeah, mate," Spike said, wicked grin working across his face. "You want me to track her, I need something that smells like her body.... Phaedra doesn't strike me as the type that goes in for lace, but you might start with her underwear drawer."

The grin turned into a full-throated laugh. "I guess I could just track her based on you," he said, laugh dying, face going totally serious. "You two really went to town on each other, didn't you? Two become one, all that?"

He sniffed at the air. "Yep. I smell undead asassin."

Lindsey's face twisted into an angry snarl, and he flew across the room before any of them had blinked, fist meeting Spike's nose with a very satisfying crunching noise.

"You shut your fuckin' mouth or I'll shut it for you!" He growled, handful of Spike's duster, pinning him to the chair as he aimed for Spike's face once more.

Spike glared up at him, hand on his bleeding nose. He knew he couldn't hit Lindsey back... not unless he was bucking for a hell of a migraine.

He was still grinning. "You," he said, wiping the blood off his hand and onto his dark jeans, "are too goddamn sensitive."

He sighed. "Hit me again, go on. I'm not shuttin' up anytime bloody soon. And the clock's tickin'. Phaedra's off God knows where, with Angelus."

The grin was downright malevolent now. "Weigh it, Sundance."

Lindsey narrowed his eyes. Damnit, Spike was right.

Didn't mean he had to like it.

"Once she's safe, you and I are havin' words, blondie." He promised, moving away from Spike, wiping bloodied knuckles on the tail of his shirt with a grimace. He sighed, rolling his head from side to side, working the kinks out of his neck. Might as well get this over with.

"A'ight, let's go." He murmured, glancing at Gunn, then Niks.

There was a soft whistle at the little tussle, and yes, she was about to maybe at insult to injury. She pulled out that small package of wipes and tossed them Spike's way, a wink to go on top of that.

"I'll be okay." She told Wes before he got to say anything. "But if the mojo packin' hotties can't find her, we might want to have him in better shape - blood would be required?"

She gave Willow and Tara a wave before preparing herself for the walk of craziness that was to come. It'd be like babysitting - which is what it more or less was.

Spike caught the packet, not realizing what it was, then shaking his head and chuckling.

"Blood'd be nice, pet," he said, waving as she walked out the door with Gunn and Lindsey.

He turned his attention to Willow, Tara, and Wes. "So," he said, voice trailing off, wiping at his nose with his hand and then a wipe.

"Yes....indeed." Wesley was a bit amazed at how quickly the three had left. It was argue, argue, argue, out the door. Well, that left the four of them to get down to business.

"Sorry, Willow. I don't think napping before we have an glimmer of a plan is a good idea. Maybe after we sketch a few things out.....sorry. So this locater spell, do you have it written up? What does it require? And how does the ensouling spell work? You know, in case this ever happens again. Though if it does, you may just find me in the Antilles Islands, trying not to get dead."

Dreams

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 15:42:44 GMT

[this happens concurrently with the thread at Buffy's house]

Lindsey sighed, sitting down on the couch in Buffy’s house, listening to everyone argue and talk and discuss things. Arguing worse than the partners at Wolfram and Hart. Just like old times, he guessed.

Tuning it out, he closed his eyes, wondering if he could get back to Caritas, to Phaedra’s dreams.

+/+/+/+/+

He walked into the club, footsteps echoing in the still space. Chairs were upside down, resting on top of the tables, the stage dark. He walked between the tables, turning as a shape moved out of the shadows.

“You’re a little early, sweetcheeks.” Lorne sipped at the glass in his hand, eyes a little more serious than his usual sunny disposition. “No audience for you tonight.”

Lindsey nodded, hands in his pockets as he looked around.

“I know, I jus’-”

“Wanted to see if Li’l Miss Gypsy was here?” At Lindsey’s nod, Lorne smiled sadly, gesturing towards the stage with his glass. There was a stool there, lit up by a spotlight that hadn’t been on moments before. A sleek black semi-acoustic guitar rested against the stool, mike stand set out in front.

“Go ahead, sugarcake. Can’t guarantee anybody out there’ll be listening but me.” He melted back into the shadows as Lindsey climbed up the stage. He took a few moments to tune the guitar, though in truth he hadn’t needed to.

Clearing his throat softly, he licked his lips, taking a deep breath as fingers settled into familiar shapes, forming chords as he began to strum softly.

"I guess I oughta tell you what's been going on
Well I've been chasing dreams for everyone but me.
When your heart is filled with misery
It's hard to find the energy
To remember just how much she means to me.

Well I keep everything inside so long till it burns
Everybody stokes the fire and the walls get a little higher.
I light the candle at both ends
And I hit the gas, the wheels start to spin
But she's always there to catch me when I fall..."

She was still there.

Time moved differently here, like her brother said. That'd always be the case. That's why some dreams felt like forever, when you'd only been asleep 20 minutes.

Phaedra was unconscious, in reality, still. She would be for a long while. She was hanging by her wrists, Angelus having his field day with her.

Phaedra turned around, still sitting on the stool where she'd been before, next to Angel. But this time, the whole place was empty.

Except for Lorne. And Lindsey.

She stood up, walking toward the stage, stopping next to the demon. Without taking her eyes off of the stage, she asked him a question. "Who's dream is this?"

Lorne shrugged, taking a seat next to her. Phaedra's eyes followed him. "Your guess is as good as mine, dumplin'. Though I have a feeling it's got something to do with the mojo between you two."

Phaedra took a few more steps, realizing her feet were still bare, and stopped, looking up at Lindsey as he sang.

Lindsey smiled as he spotted her, letting the final notes of his song fade away before setting his guitar down, standing up and stepping off the edge of the stage.

"Hey." He murmured, walking over to her, still smiling sweetly. "I was hopin' you'd show up." He slid an arm around her waist, the other cupping her face as he tilted her head back a little, kissing her slowly, deeply, sighing. Almost as good as the real thing, but not quite.

"How're you doin', darlin'?"

Phaedra sighed, too.

"Been much better," she said. She didn't go into the rest; what good was it going to do either of them? Why wouldn't I show up?

"I know why I'm here," she continued. "Why're you? What are you escaping from?"

She arched an eyebrow, watching his face.

Lindsey grimaced.

"They're discussing plans of attack. Or arguin', more accurately. I'll let 'em shout for a bit, then see what people actually want to do." He smiled a little, lifting a chair off one of the tables and sitting down. He looped an arm around Phaedra's waist, tugging her into his lap, grinning at the soft cotton dress that floated about her calves, thin barrier between his hand and her thigh.

"Good news is, you got a lotta people gettin' together to come find ya." He murmured, one hand resting on the small of her back, the other on the outside of her thigh, holding her close and holding her up.

"Slayers, vampires, Watchers, werewolves, an Animator an' me." He grinned. "Even got Angel's merry band lookin'."

Phaedra laughed slightly when he pulled her to sit on him. She listened, though, considering.

"Sounds like a party," she said. The 'Angel's Merry Band' crack made her grin. "It also sounds like everyone is probably yelling at each other and over each other."

There were reasons she worked alone. Good reasons. "You didn't have anything to say?"

"No point jus' yet." He murmured. "They're too busy yellin' at each other to listen. Plus, ain't like Wesley and Gunn wanna give me any kinda help. Better let Anita handle things." He grinned.

"So, me an' Spike sorta killed Saerian's lighter." He smirked a little. "Bleach-boy jumped up an' down on it. Funniest thing I seen all day."

She started to ask why they didn't want to help him, then realized. She'd seen it in his blood, whether he knew it or not. She'd seen how they'd all treated each other.

She smirked, picturing this. Then she raised an eyebrow, turning her face toward him. "Spike's there? And... helping? Why would he do that?"

Still, the mental image was priceless.

Lindsey nodded.

"Guess he hates Angelus jus' like the rest of us. An'," he bit his lip, not knowing if he should tell her, "he ran into Saerian. From the looks'f things, Saerian can't mess with Spike's mind. Somethin' to do with a chip?"

Phaedra damn near fell off Lindsey's lap, laughing.

"Ohhh, that's too good," she said, grinning. "Perfect."

She sighed out the last word, eyes raising to the cieling--a very cute, very Little Bird gesture.

Recovering, she paused to explain. "He... was captured. By the government. They experimented on him. There's a chip in his head that controls his impulses. He can't hurt people anymore, or it sends him a pretty big shock."

Lindsey arched an eyebrow.

"Which explains the scream when he punched me." He chuckled. "We sorta...had a disagreement." He smirked a little.

"Mind you, he seems to find the fact I'm besotted with the big bad Phaedra amusin'..." He leant close, nuzzling softly at her neck, sighing.

"Gotten used to havin' you in my bed." He mumbled, breathing her in. "Ain't right bein' alone." And he shouldn't feel that...needy, that unsettled without her. Not after only a few days.

"He punched you?" Her eyebrow raised. She wasn't concerned. Who hasn't? she thought, playfully.

She wasn't in her body, not right now. Why couldn't she joke?

"I'm sure he does," she said, shutting her eyes as he nuzzled her. "Spike's a little afraid of me, I think. When Anita and I got here, I worked him over pretty well."

Phaedra felt like she'd cry if this kept up. She knew she wasn't really here. She could feel it. But the delusion was so much better than her reality...

She looked at Lindsey. "I'd have to agree with you on that, ves'tacha," she said.

Lindsey sighed, tilting his chin up, kissing her lightly.

"Dance with me." He murmured, urging her to her feet. He grinned as music began to play, slow and sweet, taking her hand and leading her to a clear area of the club, no chairs to get in their way. He pulled Phaedra into his arms, one hand on the small of her back, the other holding her hand in his.

Phaedra shut her eyes, even if it was a relatively small kiss.

She smiled at him slightly, something in her eyes giving away her pain.

"Dance with you?" He was pulling her to her feet, and she let him, skirt swishing around her legs. Much easier to let him than to try to talk him out of it. And it was just a dance, right?

One hand rested on her back and the other took hers. Phaedra found herself looking up slightly at Lindsey, looking him in the eye.

So blue. She missed blue like that, that vibrant sky color.

"You're going to laugh at me," she said, eyebrows both raising, voice slightly shakey. "I, uh... I've never done this before."

Lindsey's mouth twitched upwards in a smile, but he managed not to laugh.

"Pretty girl like you an' you've never danced before?" He teased, holding her close. "S'easy. Just follow me, 'kay? And don't trod on my feet, kinda attached to them."

Something like a glare was her response.

"Slowdancing didn't exist when I was mortal," she said.

It was true. People would've thought it was too close for comfort--even gypsies. They danced, yeah, but everything was more of a folk dance.

And once I wasn't mortal... who was I going to dance with, ves'tacha?

Damnit, the smile was cute. She found herself smiling herself.

"You're attached to your feet?" She laughed. "You have shoes. I don't."

She was doing okay, though. Wasn't so tough. She could get used to this--the being held and swayed aspect was great.

Lindsey laughed.

"Good point." He smiled, pulling her closer, looking down at her.

You got me, darlin'. He moved them slowly around the floor, holding her close with the arm around her waist, humming quietly as he smiled down at her. For now, they had this. Something no one else could touch.

She knew part of this was only because of memory. There was no way there was this much detail in this kind of limbo; no way she could physically feel his arms around her, or hear his heart beating.

Right?

She wasn't so sure anymore.

Phaedra swallowed, gulping down a wave of feeling, sighing, not speaking. Speech could ruin this. She was managing not to step on him or get stepped on... managing to actually enjoy what was going on.

How am I doing?

You're doin' just fine. His eyes let on that she was doing more than fine. But he was too scared to say more, even in a dream. Or was it? Sure felt too damn real to be a dream.

He let them come to a halt, cupping Phaedra's face in gentle hands, kissing her softly, sweetly. He was trembling, just a little, the only sign that he was at all worried for Phaedra. For them.

Good.

She managed a smile before he started kissing her, holding her face in warm hands.

Phaedra felt him shake. Still silent, she returned the kiss, gently, then pulled back, looking at him with large, clear green eyes.

"You're shaking," she said, whispering, mouth still very close to his.

"Pretty girls make me nervous." He whispered back, blue eyes bright and guileless. His hands slid down from her face, barely brushing the curve of her breasts as they made their way down to her waist, resting there, warm and reassuring as they kissed.

For a moment, he wondered how Phaedra was really holding up, what Angelus would do-no. He wouldn't let himself think about that. Not now. He couldn't help but worry, though. Couldn't help but think of Phaedra there, alone and helpless and bleeding. Needing her strength to fight.

He wondered if he could feed her, here. If the blood would stay, would somehow strengthen her.

The movement of his hands got a shiver.

Interesting, Phaedra thought. I can still shiver here.

Then Lindsey was kissing her again, and her eyes closed, chin tilting up to meet his lips.

Phaedra could almost feel his thoughts wandering, but she didn't follow them. Not here. Besides, she had a feeling she knew where they were going.

I'm tougher than I look, she told him silently. She wanted to tell him not to worry, but she found she couldn't do it.

"Ain't gon' stop me worrying." He murmured, lips trailing downwards, pressing against her neck, the hollow under her jaw.

You need fed, darlin'? he nuzzled softly at her neck, breathing deep, smiling at the familiar scent he'd grown far too attached to. Don't know that it'll help, here, but if you need to...

"Good," she said aloud, almost laughing.

She closed her eyes for a second, hands around his neck and shoulders, almost clinging. When she opened them again, she could see Lorne over Lindsey's shoulder, standing far back, in the recess's of wherever it was they were. The demon looked heartbroken.

He probably was, Phaedra figured. He was an empath. And she and Lindsey were...open wounds?

She shut her eyes again, listening to his voice in her head, then shaking it lightly. Tempting, but I don't think it works like that, ves'tacha. You're emotional sustinence. I need that more.

One hand moved to the back of his head, idly playing with strands of hair.

Lindsey practically purred as she wound her fingers in his hair, nuzzling at her neck still, burying his face in dark hair as his hands tightened on her waist, just a little.

God, this was pathetic. If this had been anyone else, Lindsey would've been laughing at them for being such a sap. But it was different when it was him. Different with Phaedra. He couldn't think of any way of saying it that didn't sound cliched, even in his own mind.

"I love you." He murmured, refusing to move away from her even an inch.

Emotional sustenance? Way to be literal.

Something like a bitter laugh came out of Phaedra's throat. This was funny.

"Don't do that," she said, words barely audible. "Don't say that when I'm not there to hear it."

She wasn't mad, in the least. She was incredibly touched. So much so that if Lindsey were to pull back and look at her, he'd see the tears on her face. Phaedra didn't break for torture, or full-on physical pain of any sort. She'd even been through more than her share of emotional wreckage.

But this? Feeling this, and having it be out of reach? That got tears. She held on tighter.

Don't listen to me. Say it again.

Lindsey felt the dampness against his own cheek, pulling back far enough to kiss away her tears, salt against his lips.

"I love you." He murmured with each soft touch of his lips to her skin, again and again as if he could make it sink in with repetition.

The tears were still coming, slowly. Phaedra hated that.

She hated that something had finally pushed her this far. Three centuries without crying. The last time she'd cried was the night she was made. Angelus did not deserve to be up on the same level as that.

But he wasn't, not really. He wasn't the one wringing the tears out of her. She hadn't made a single sound because of him. Hadn't even raised her voice. She blinked wet eyes, opening them. A sad smile touched her lips, which immediately sought his. Before she caught them, Phaedra brushed a hand over Lindsey's cheek.

"I know," she said, voice gentle, not at all hard or mocking, like it usually was. "I love you, too."

"Good." He murmured, smiling softly as he kissed her again, his hands combing through her hair. They slid down over her shoulders, down either side of her spine, resting on the curve of her ass as he pulled her impossibly closer.

Burying his face against her throat, he sighed, kissing pale skin one last time, eyes closed.

When he opened them again, he was sitting on a couch, as Spike paced angrily.

Damnit.

Babysitting time

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 15:22:46 GMT

Sighing, Lindsey pulled on a shirt and shoes, sitting down on the end of his bed. He was gonna go insane, trapped in here all night. Especially when Phaedra was out there...somewhere.

Her boss had shit timing. Tonight, of all nights. He was feeling more than a little shaky; wasn't often he said he loved someone. And yeah, that someone happened to be an undead assassin. Didn't make it any easier to watch her leave. Lighting a cigarette, he thought for a moment.

Fuck it. He needed a drink. Not his problem if his babysitter couldn't find him. Picking up his coat, he shrugged it on, carefully putting his guitar away before opening the door.

And seeing a petite brunette standing on the other side.

I had just lifted my hand to knock on the door that Phaedra's message had directed me to, when it opened all on its own. Well, not completely on its own. It seemed to have been the action of the tall, slightly pissed man standing in the doorway. My first thought was, "He reminds me of Richard". Not a good sign for me. My second thought was, "Way to go Phaedra", also not the best thing to be thinking at that moment. Luckily, none of that came out of my mouth.

What I actually ended up saying was, "You must be the boytoy. I'm Anita Blake. Headed out?"

"Somethin' like that." Lindsey muttered, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Nice to meet you, Anita. Bye." He walked past her, and down the hall. He was itching for...well, a fuck, a fight, somethin' to get his adrenaline going. Something other than being babysat by a girl who looked like she'd break if he pushed her too hard.

He'd learnt by now, though, not to judge by appearance.

Well, that was rude. I hurried down the hall and slipped in front of him, my arms crossed.

"Listen, this isn't my idea of a good night either. But a friend asked a favor, and I don't fuck over my friends. So you and I are going to spend some quality time together, at request of my colleague Phaedra who happens to want to look out for you. For reasons I do not yet understand, having been witness to your charm and grace personally. Plus she told me you were gently encouraged to be with her by a demon obsessed with revenge who wants to hurt her. So why don't you tell me where WE are going, so we don't have to do this dance all night?"

I didn't go for my gun, or my supernatural equivilant of a flamethrower. I just stared him in the eye, and waited.

Lindsey sighed.

"I need a drink. You know a place?" Not like he'd had time to see any of Sunnydale, what with the running into Saerian, and then Phaedra. And then Saerian again. He smiled at her, even going so far as to hold the elevator door open, gesturing for her to step in first.

He got in after her, leaning against the wall, arms folded.

"So what brings you to Sunnydale? From what I hear, you got plenty on your plate back home."

I almost groaned. Another bar? It seems like ever since I heard about this Hellmouth, all I'd been doing was meeting people at bars. It was a wonder I wasn't a raging alcoholic. Hell, I was surprised everyone in Sunnydale wasn't just perpetually drunk.

"Yea, there are one or two places downtown, depends if you want to go where the kids are loud or where the kids avoid. Your choice, I can get a drink wherever."

I tucked my hands in the pockets of my dark jeans and looked back at him. He was shorter than Richard, but had some of that aw-shucks attitude. But he was no Boy Scout, not like Richard. Richard's power and menace came from his beast, he wasn't quite comfortable in it. Lindsey was dangerous. But I had experience handling dangerous men, and this one wasn't going to get to me. He was wearing an invisible leash that had Phaedra's name on it, and as he said, I had enough on my plate.

"Yea, there's a lot of my plate, it's a tough job being me. Obviously, you know something about it, why don't you tell me huh?"

"Long as they serve beer, I don't give a shit." He looked at her, gaze even, considering. Ok, so she had to be tougher than she looked. But right now, she wasn't the right girl. Not by a long shot.

"You heard of Wolfram and Hart?" He looked at her, stepping out as the lift doors open, walking across the lobby and out onto the street. "I used ta work for 'em." If she knew of them, she knew of them. If not...well, lucky her.

"Yea, I know who they are." Was this the second time in one night Wolfram and Hart had been mentioned? Must be a record for me. "I also know the Vampire Council keeps away from them, and ordered all of our sort to do the same. Apparently once you get involved, there's almost no getting away from them."

I squinted at him. "Tell me about it. You think they're involved here, or just looking to unload a sob story? Either way, we need a drink. Last place I was with Phaedra was a dive. There's a nicer place in the middle of town and I'm looking forward to not pulling out my guns for once since I got here."

Lindsey shrugged.

"This place seems to be attractin' the big bads. And ain't nothin' bigger and badder than demonic lawyers." He shrugged. "If they are, I'm not hangin' around." He glanced across at her. "We didn't exactly part on the best of terms." He smiled wryly, gesturing for Anita to lead the way to wherever they were going.

Spike was almost to that bar he liked. Not quite.

He was near the Bronze, in an alley, and not paying much attention.

CRUNCH.

He furrowed his eyebrows, bending down to see what he'd trod on in his work boots.

"Phone?"

He picked it up, looking at it. He didn't really crunch it. Should still work. Curious guy that he was, Spike opened it up. "You have one new voice message," he repeated, mocking the singsong voice of the stupid bint on the recording.

Spike hit play.

"Phaedra, it's Jake..."

Spike grinned. Romani's phone, huh?

The grin faded, fast.

This was not good. This... meant one thing. He knew Phaedra'd already encountered Angel. He'd seen it. Angel wouldn't do this, wouldn't call in a trap.

But Angelus would.

"Bloody Hell," he said, snapping the phone closed and shoving it into his pocket.

He continued to the bar, almost running, not even sure where he was going. He slammed right into a guy, shaking his head to clear it.

"Ey!"

"Watch it, buddy." Lindsey snapped, stepping back unvoluntarily as someone ran straight into him. Someone with a bleach addiction, by the looks of things. He really didn't have the time for this.

But he did, of course. Time to kill until Phaedra was done. The sooner the better. He couldn't push away that tingling of apprehension, trying to tell himself he was wrong.

Of course, the fact that he'd never been wrong since he'd got the tattoos was a little bit disconcerting.

Spike looked the guy over, a low 'pft' coming out under his breath.

Then he realized who he was standing with.

"Wishes might be horses today," he said, smirking. "Blake, I know you cannot stand me but I have information, a lot of it. And I think we've got a big problem."

He sighed, wishing he were in the bar. So close, yet so far.

"Who's this tosser?" he asked, gesturing to Lindsey. Wasn't gonna launch into stuff about Saerian and Angelus in front of just anyone.

"You know him?" Lindsey looked to Anita. Well, at least he'd said she couldn't stand him. That at least made Lindsey respect her a little more. The guy seemed like a jerk.

"Well, yeah," he said. "We aren't exactly peas and carrots, but we've met."

He was almost bouncing he was so jittery.

"Look, I got news," he said. "'Bout my grand-sire. Bout Phaedra."

Spike raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Now that had Lindsey's attention.

"Wait, what?" He arched an eyebrow. "What d'you know 'bout Phaedra?" Ok, this wasn't good. This couldn't be good. And if it was something like, 'she's looking hot tonight', Lindsey might actually punch the bleached wonder.

Spike turned toward the guy. Urban cowboy-like. He snorted.

"What do I know? Mate, I know just thinking about all this is making me need a drink."

He took the phone out of his pocket, wondering if Anita or her buddy here noticed how bloody... bloody he was. Demon'd kicked his ass into the drywall. He wasn't feeling so wonderful.

He looked at Lindsey, smirking. "What do you care? Unless..."

A big, slow grin spread over the vampire's face. "Oh. I see."

He turned back to Anita. "Message on here. This is Romani's phone. Almost crunched it walkin' here. Oh, and we have a mind control demon problem."

He said the last thing like it was totally natural. "And Angel is going naked to the Soul Train."

For all Lindsey knew, that was how the guy looked normally. Besides, he really didn't fucking care.

He grabbed Phaedra's phone out of Spike's hand, turning a little pale. Frowning, he flipped it open, setting it to speakerphone before checking her messages, letting him and Anita both hear it at once.

""Phaedra, it's Jake. Listen... I just got a look at the file for that job in California... where are you again? Sunny Hill? Anyway, Joe didn't tell you everything. I was hoping to catch you before you left. The phone call we got about this guy came from a vampire named... [noise of papers shuffling].. Angel. If that's who I think it is, I figured I owed you a head's up for you saving my ass so many times. [pause] I heard the Council's out there, too. Phaedra, I think this is a trap. I don't know what this Angel guy has to do with it, but I know how you feel about him.

Do us both a favor. Don't go on that job. We'll both live a lot longer if you don't. Gimme a call when you get this so I know you're okay."

Lindsey cursed, loudly. And for a solid minute.

I had stood there silent, letting the two men keep their pissing contest going while I got as much information out of them as possible. But after hearing the message on the phone, I couldn't help myself.

"Fuck. This is bad news. Not only has Morte d'Amour removed Angel's soul and made him into Angelus again, but he's found a way of incapacitating her. Damn it, I knew I should have gone with her from the beginning. But nooOOOooo, she had to go explain to redneck boy here alone, which left her alone to take the job and she was too busy killing this schmuck to listen to her messages. Fuck!" I slammed my hand into the wall.

Now Spike's face was pissing me off. He was entirely too amused by this. I kicked his legs out from under him and stood over him, glaring. "You're going to help us, Spike. You're going to help us find Angelus and Phaedra, and fight off this mind control demon. And if you don't, I will blow pieces off your body until you fall apart. You hear me, Spike? This is bigger than all of us now."

"Ey!"

That was the reaction to the phone being grabbed.

After the message, and the expletive-fest, Spike nodded. "Yeah, heard that. Told you. Problems."

He laughed, a big full-throated laugh, at what Anita called Lindsey.

Anita knocked him over... and Spike just stared up at her, totally shocked.

"Why the hell is everyone beating me senseless today?!"

He sighed, not getting up. He wanted to hurt her, and getting up would make the chip fire. "I didn't say no," he growled. Spike set his jaw. "Much as I would LOVE to see the Romani/Angelus rematch, I gotta tell you, last time my granddaddy was around, I tried to put him in the ground."

He looked up at Anita, clear eyes settling on hers. "Bloke likes to try to end the world. I happen to like the world."

"An' why exactly we standin' around here arguing about this?" Lindsey snapped, pacing. He wasn't good with waiting. Especially not when Phaedra was being held somewhere by Angelus. Who really wouldn't be in the mood for playing nicely. Not when it was Phaedra, the one who had been responsible for him getting a soul.

He could only imagine-no. He wasn't going to let himself. Not thinking about that right now.

Spike got to his feet, ducking away from Anita.

This not being able to hit people stuff was getting really, REALLY irritating.

He furrowed his eyebrows, staring at Lindsey.

"Look," he said, voice less than friendly. "Did you miss the part about the mind control? We need a plan, you git, or we're all going to get various varieties of dead."

"No, he knows all about the mind control. He's been on the recieving end once or twice...which is why he should be a bit less cavalier about dealing with it."

I still wasn't too fond of Lindsey, but I knew he cared for Phaedra, and more importantly, that she cared what happened to him. And who was I to judge? I dated a vampire and a werewolf, and lived with two wereleopards. I wasn't exactly Little Miss Blemishless when it came to relationships.

"You've met this Saerian, right? After he messed with Dawn." I got a moment of satisfaction from his bemused look. "Yea, I know all about that. I found her afterwards, and then sent her running home from a vampire attack. So what did you do, crawl when he called your name?"

"He has, huh?"

Spike looked at Lindsey, tilting his head. "What'd he ask you to do, then?"

He sighed, looking back at Anita. "Too many assumptions, Miss Executioner," he said, punctuating the sentence with a laugh. "Actually, love, I beat him to a bloody pulp. I crawl," he said, almost growling, "for no one."

"He tried it, when we were fighting. Tried to do the mind mojo. Told me to walk home and hunt. Didn't work."

Lindsey arched an eyebrow at Spike.

"Dress up in a tutu and dance the fandago." He snarked, refusing to admit to what Saerian had done; though clearly Anita knew, and that bothered him enough as it was.

"So how come it didn't work on you?" He knew Saerian could control vampires, so it wasn't that.

"Interesting....we can definitely use that." I smiled, and this was a real smile. Lately, it seemed all my smiles were intended to send people running in the other direction, but I was genuinely happy this time. We had a weakness! Mind control demon could not control Spike, since he was already under the semi-control of one government-implanted computer chip. Oh, glorious day!

"You may have become my new favorite person, vamp. You are now our front line of defense. Anyway, Brokeback Mountain here," I pointed a finger over my shoulder at Lindsey, "was encouraged to find Phaedra and mess with her emotions. It seems to have worked both ways, thankfully...funny that."

"And sorry about the assumptions, but it's what I do. I can tell you right now, I'll do it again. Don't get so pissy about it, it'll make things easier on both of us."

Spike just looked at Lindsey. The tutu comment was so thick with sarcasm that he half wished he'd thought of it himself.

"It didn't work," he started, standing facing Lindsey now, "cause the government shoved a piece of metal up into my head. Controls my impulses. Demon boy can't get a piece cause there's nothing there to take."

He sighed. "So much fun."

He grinned at Anita. "New favorite, huh? And no shit she messed with his emotions. You seen the girl?"

Spike laughed, another full-throated malevolent laugh. He removed his pack of cigarettes from his coat, then a lighter, firing up a cigarette with practiced ease.

"Yeah, and I'll piss you off again," he said to Anita. "We're square."

Lindsey suppressed the urge to growl at Spike.

"Back off, blondie." He practically snarled.

"So, we got any proof Saerian's got somethin' to do with this? Cuz if not, I say we go in there and stake Angelus. Only way we can be sure he's not gonna turn bad next time someone decides to play with big bad and broody."

"You're very irritating," Spike said, eyebrows raising, delivery as though he were making a routine observation.

He answered the question as though Anita had asked it, not Lindsey. He even turned away from Lindsey and addressed the reply to her.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Spike said, "but I'm not sure he does. And you can't just go in, guns blazing. That crap never works. Besides, what makes you think the Slayer will let you take him out? Piss her off, she find a way to bollocks it up."

He exhaled the smoke, really, really, wishing he had a drink.

"I aim to please." Lindsey smirked, lighting a cigarette of his own.

"I don't know, enough guns and it should stop him. Failing that, we could just dangle some jars of hair gel. Vain bastard uses enough of that shit."

"Wasn't talkin' to you," Spike said, not turning around until the hair gel comment.

Then he laughed, almost good-naturedly. "You have no idea," he said. "The ponce."

He pictured Angel's bathroom cabinet, the stockpile of gel he knew MUST be there. What a fucking nancy boy.

Boys. Sigh.

"Can we finish with the insulting each oth....hair gel?" I shook my head to clear it of the image of a vampire in front of a mirror he couldn't see himself in, fixing his hair.

"So we can't just stake the bastard? Dammit. Now what?"

"Flame thrower?" Lindsey suggested good-naturedly, although that put Phaedra in far too much risk for his liking.

"Look, we get enough people who can fight, we can take him down. Phaedra did it before, we can do it again."

"Who ARE you?"

Spike just glared, exhaling another lungful of smoke. "You do know you're talking about takin' down a legendary killer. What makes you think you have the chops for that, mate? I know I might, Anita here probably does... Phaedra definitely does... but you?"

He made a 'pft' noise. "You're human, I can smell it. But... not afraid. Don't smell fear."

He took a step toward Lindsey, tilting his head, and exhaled smoke over his right shoulder. "What, as they say here, is your deal, then?"

"Well, we have three right here.....anyone else we can volunteer for this immediately? From what I can tell, other than Buffy there aren't many here who are real fighters, and she won't want to hurt Angel to stop Angelus. That's going to put a damper on her fighting abilities."

I smiled, thinking of a time not too long ago. "And, actually, I have a flamethrower in St. Louis. A friend got it for me.....everyone should have friends like Edward."

"Lindsey MacDonald." Lindsey smirked. "I used to work for Wolfram and Hart." Which should explain it all, really. They'd had enough run ins with both Angel and Angelus for Lindsey to know exactly who he was dealing with. And not care. Not when Phaedra was involved.

"I ain't met anyone else bar you two, Phaedra, and Saerian since I got here." Lindsey shrugged.

"Evil Inc., huh?"

Spike looked him up and down. He almost asked him what the files said. Nah. Later for it.

"Spike," he said, nodding. Waiting for the bells to ring. Hell, he didn't know Lindsey knew his great-grandmother.

He looked at Anita. "you don't always need brute force, pet," he said. "We got witches here. Damn good ones. One of 'em already re-ensouled Angel once."

Ah, so this was Spike. Well, it sort of made sense.

"Why's everyone so goddamn desperate to keep him alive? Or, upright and moving, at least?" Lindsey ran a hand through his hair, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

"He's just a vampire. One without a soul, now. I say we fucking stake him. Senior partners want him on their side so badly, can't be anythin' good to come of him bein' anything but a pile of dust."

Spike looked at Lindsey.

"The who?"

Senior-whatsits?

"What're you on about? Blake said who can we enlist. I gave you the run-down. That's all. I am not suggesting we have to get him his soul back. Though if we do, I really want to see his face when that thing goes back in."

Spike grinned.

"Wolfram and Hart." Lindsey explained. "Angel's caused the firm a whole lotta trouble over the last few years. You'd think they'd want him dead. Hell knows I do." His fingers twitched, Lindsey putting his hand in his coat pocket, trying to ignore the band of pink scar tissue above his wrist.

"But we weren't allowed to touch him. They want him for somethin', and when the Senior Partners take an interest in you...well, let's just say it's not time for cuddles and puppies."

"If we're talking souls and the dead, I may be able to help. Necromancer, remember?"

I also looked at Lindsey. This, I wanted to hear. "I wonder what the Vampire Council has to say about this. You know what, no I don't. I really don't want them any more involved than they already are. Meddling ancients."

Spike just smirked. "Puppies, huh? Guess you never heard the story about Angelus and the puppy."

He saw the way Lindsey fidgeted at the mention of the Senior Partners and filed that away under "good to know."

Spike started to ask what the partners would want with Angel, then stopped. He really didn't care.

He stubbed out his cigarette with his boot, looking at Anita, carefully. "Right," he said. "Necromancer."

The grin spread across his face again. "Well. Necromance me. C'mon. Dare you."

"A challenge, eh? You should know by now how I react to that."

I probed him and found some basic differences in these Sunnydale vampires. The energy animating them was completely different from our type. Ours was more like the soul of a zombie, come back every night when they awake and leaving when they sleep. I had found David and Eleni's animating force to be similar. Maybe the origins of the two different lines of vampires were related, I would have to ask for the full story when I ran into them again.

Spike's animating energy wasn't a soul, hence why Angel's soul could be taken out and put back in at will. I could manipulate it a little, and pushed at just so he'd feel I was there. I wondered if I could search out Spike's soul, or Angel's, the way I had reanimated Willy and Damien.

Spike grunted at her quip.

But then his eyes went wide, and he winced. A sound like a muffled yell rushed out of his mouth.

He felt... felt like she was pushing him. Pushing at what was inside him.

"HEY!"

He stepped back, shaking his head. "Point made, okay? Bloody hell."

Spike took a second to recover, then glared at Anita. "How did you do that? WHAT did you do?"

Lindsey snickered, taking one last drag on his cigarette before grinding it out under the heel of his boot, much as Spike himself had done.

"She did warn ya." He pointed out, folding his arms and grinning smugly.

"Necromancer. Means power over the dead. Not souls, the dead in all it's forms...that means I animate zombies, can raise vampires from their sleep and keep them awake without their souls or whatever just by the force of my will and magic.....good to know, right?"

Good to know, indeed. I may not be able to control him, at least not like I could literally control zombies or vampires I had raised during the day, but I could at least make things uncomfortable for him when he was being a total prat.

"You're scary," he said, eyebrows raising.

And Buffy wondered why The Executioner was more frightening to him? He glared at Lindsey.

"Big help, you are," he said to him.

"Alright, so what's the next move? Slayer-fest, or somethin' else?"

"What, like I'm gonna rush to William the Bloody's aid?" See? He knew who Spike was.

"Slayer's not gonna help us kill Angel." Lindsey murmured, jaw set. "I ain't lettin' him get away with this. He doesn't get another chance."

Spike grinned. Great. He was infamous, too. He liked that.

"Why? Cause it's your girl?" Spike almost growled. "You have any idea the history between those two, or is it just personal because she's your bit?"

He crossed his arms, leather jacket creaking. "I don't know you, I sure as hell don't care for you, but you go runnin' in there you're going to die. Painfully. Romani and Angelus? Out of your league, on terms of fighting."

I rolled my eyes. Jeez, was I the only one around here with a brain? Sometimes it felt like that....like right now.

"That's what guns and supernaturally quick healing powers are for....luckily, I have plenty of both. Again, who else would we need to take on this situation? And how about putting some thought into how we find them in the first place?"

Lindsey smirked.

"Anita, you got a knife on you?" Spike was challenging his fighting? Oh, this was going to be fun. He stepped back, tossing the knife Anita had handled him idly in one hand.

Within the blink of an eye, the knife had become a sword. Lindsey crossed the distance between him and Spike, circling around him and pressing the sword underneath his chin before the vampire even had time to react.

"Still think I can't keep up?" He murmured with a wry smirk.

Spike gulped. He was up on tiptoes, stretching his neck to avoid the blade of the sword.

"Shoulda known Romani wouldn't go for cannon fodder," he said, almost laughing despite his position, which was VERY uncomfortable. He couldn't move; Lindsey had him almost around the neck, holding him there with the sword. Suddenly, Anita's comment about Brokeback Mountain seemed funnier. But he was not laughing.

"Dust me and you'll have one pissed off Slayer," he said. "Just mentioning."

God, he hated this. Couldn't fight back--not without frying his brain. Just had to stand there and take it.

Lindsey snorted.

"Right now, you're all we got against Saerian. I may sound like a dumb hick, but I ain't as stupid as all that." He pulled back, the sword melting back into a knife amidst a mystical blue haze. He stepped back, flipping the knife around, handing it back to Anita hilt-first with a slight bow.

I accepted it graciously, I thought. I don't really like people messing around with my weapons, but he handled it well. Still, it was mine and I slid it back into its hip sheath happily.

"Ok, that's a pretty neat trick, but it only really works well once since the element of surprise is on your side. You need to know when the best time is to employ it." Luckily, I had my long knife down my back, hidden under all the hair. Knew the thick mop on my head had to be good for something....turns out, it was hiding weapons.

"Witches are a good idea, Spike, but not if we're going to have to spend all our time protecting them from impaling themselves on a knife or getting caught between fighting vampires. But we should at least consult, and see if I can just do it myself. Other than that, we need more of a game plan than 'don't get killed', right?"

"Do it yourself?"

He'd stepped away from Lindsey, more than a little ruffled. "Are you both not listening?"

He felt like screaming, and this wasn't the first time. "God, when did I become the voice of bloody reason in Sunnydale?"

The sigh came back. "Fine. You want to meet the witches, then? Think you already met Red."

Nope. But Spike looked like his head might pop if they didn't let him talk for a bit.

Hell, maybe he'd shut up once he said his peice. But Lindsey doubted it. He lit another cigarette, silent as he waited for Spike to finish. And there was that feeling, that shiver running down his spine. He turned, frowning as he looked around, trying to see if there was anybody watching.

Something didn't feel right.

I opened my mouth to tell Spike we weren't nearly as stupid as he seemed to think we are, when the cool breath of magic touched the base of my spine. Someone was fooling around with power here, someone not too far away. It had the cool touch of vampire, not the warm ruffle of lycanthrope or witch. And it felt strong, desperate.

I closed my eyes and sought it out, following the thread back to its source. I wondered if maybe it was someone specifically trying to get our attention, or if they were so distracted by something else that they were drawing in everyone with any magic at all.

Both of them were obviously retarded.

Spike raised an eyebrow, watching Lindsey and Anita. He felt... something... but whatever was going on, they were feeling it much more. He just felt... like something was going on. Something he couldn't touch.

Didn't bother him any. Spike didn't care. He just hated when people didn't listen to him.

"Hey," he said.

No response.

"You check out on me?" He snapped fingers in Anita's face, then looked at Lindsey, who seemed likewise out of it.

"Hell," he muttered. "I was talking to you!"

He paced back and forth between the pair, fuming. "That's VERY rude."

Lindsey gasped as he came back to himself, blinking, frowning as he looked at Spike.

"How much do you know about the docks?" He murmured, voice low and fierce. They needed to get Phaedra out of there. Before the sun came up. "How big an area is it? How much of it's abandoned enough that people wouldn't notice screaming?"

Much as he hated to think about it, he knew damn well how Angelus worked. How well Darla had taught him.

"Thought you were retired, lawyer," he said, glaring. "What's with the 20 Questions?"

He wasn't getting the connection.

"Big area," he said, sighing. "Used to use it in my more nefarious days for not so nice things. Get specific. Why are you asking me?"

The more he talked, the more abrasive his voice got. He wanted to be in the loop.

"Because that's where she is." Lindsey snapped. "Me an' Anita - and any other mystic types, I'd bet - got sucked into...I dunno, a dream, I guess." He ran his fingers through his hair, on edge now, even more than before.

"She can hear water. Coils of rope, oil drums. Big space. And sunlight. There's a hole in the window near her. That sound like anything other than a warehouse near water to you?"

"Because that's where Angelus is holding her, genius!"

I had conveniently forgotten or ignored that he hadn't been in the dreamscape.

"She gave us enough info to know a general area, but not specifics. That's where you come in, Spike. You finally get to help."

"Do I."

Lovely.

"Angelus needs new material," he muttered. "You'd think he could come up with a better place than a bleedin' warehouse, or that sodding mansion of his. Always the same dance with him."

Alright. Now he was worried for Buffy, since he stopped to think.

"Shouting at me will get you both exactly nowhere," Spike said, eyes raised to the sky, aggravated. "I've been pummeled today. I'm sore and I'm goddamn tired. I have just pointed out a serious situation to you. Have a care how you talk to your 'new best friend,'" he said, looking at Anita.

She was the one that said he was the only weapon they had on Saerian. She could bloody well stop yelling.

"Right, sorry." I said grudgingly. Hey, I didn't apologize often, he should take it as it was meant.

"But you do know the docks, right?"

Lindsey ran both hands through his hair, before reaching for a cigarette, fighting the urge to pace. And interrupt.

Goddamnit, he needed to do something. Preferably something involving Angelus' face and a sledgehammer.

Spike just watched Lindsey. "You be annoyed, g'head," he said.

"We go to the calvary, then, yeah? I cannot believe I need to go back to the Summer's house. Although... there's a Watcher in town. Probably more than one, by now."

He hated this. "C'mon," he said, grudgingly, rolling his eyes. "I'll take you to her. The Watcher."

Vampire, Interrupted

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 15:06:10 GMT

She didn’t even have time to enjoy the subject change.

Before she could say anything else, and before Lindsey could respond to her (verbally or otherwise), Phaedra heard her phone ring. Lindsey’d get a kick out of the ring, she thought: Paint it Black, the Rolling Stones.

It fit.

The phone was in her back pocket, which meant that Lindsey could probably feel it ringing. That made her smirk, but it still made her mad. No one had her number. Phaedra didn’t give it out. She had Anita’s—that’s how it worked. If Anita needed the number, she’d have damn well asked. She hadn’t. Which meant this was work-related.

She sat up, face registering something like pain at pulling back from Lindsey, hand reaching into her pocket for the phone. She snapped it open, putting it to her ear. She didn’t have to ask who it was. She knew, even though it could’ve been anyone from the firm.

“This really better be good,” she said, eyes focused on Lindsey’s face. She didn’t move, staying on his lap. He wanted her, loved her? He could deal with the professional killer for a few minutes. See the whole thing.

The voice on the other end of the line chuckled. “That any way to talk to your boss?”

“When it’s you? Yeah, I think it is.”

“Phaedra, I got a job for you.”

“What part of me being on the other damn side of the country don’t you understand, Joe?” Her voice was hard, the edge there because of her genuine hatred for her boss. She could picture him sitting at his desk, feet up, expensive suit, not getting any of the blood or the dirt on him. Sending her out into the fray—her and his other hired monsters.

“It’s in your neck of the woods. It’s a Sunnydale gig,” Joe responded, ignoring her attitude.

Phaedra got quiet. She was looking at Lindsey, at his eyes, so blue, seriously hating that she was going to have to get up and be the bad guy. She was also seriously aggravated; Joe'd had to solicit Sunnydale work. They were a New York based operation. He did this just to mess with her.

“What is it?”

Joe told her the details, filled in the blanks. Local guy, not nice. Should be cake. Should take you an hour, at best. Should be nothing, Phae, nothing my best girl can’t handle.

“I’m not your best girl, Joe,” she growled into the phone. “What’s the guy’s name? What else you got?”

He told her. And where to find him. Phaedra sighed.

“Romani, did you just fucking sigh at me?” Joe was incredulous. “I’ve known you my entire goddamn life and you don’t sigh.”

“Yeah, and when I get back, you don’t breathe. Don’t bother me out here. Stop looking for hoops for me to jump through. This is important. End-of-the-world, end of your life important.”

“Do the job. Call me when it’s done. Have a nice night.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’d never let me.”

Click.

“You’re going to hate this,” she said to Lindsey, voice less hard, more hurt than it had been a few seconds ago. "I gotta go."

Lindsey sighed.

"Yeah, kinda figured that." He kissed a slow path down her neck, arms tight around her waist, seeming like he had no intention of letting her go for a good while yet. Maybe if he just refused to let her go, she wouldn't leave.

Either that or he could just distract her with kisses. Maybe some sexin'.

Phaedra smirked, though Lindsey wouldn't see it. He was a mite... preoccupied. If she really wanted to, she could throw him off of her, throw his arms off.

She didn't really want to. Work was not something she wanted.

"Sooner I go, sooner I can come back," she said, voice an unhappy whisper. Her eyes were shut; she was happy. Fuck Joe.

"Or you could just...not..." He mumbled, nosing at the hem of her shirt, pressing kisses to the hollow of her throat, nipping gently at cool skin.

His hands slid under her top, pressed flat against her back, sliding slowly up and down. His thumbs grazed the curves of her breasts, teasing smile lost against skin as he sucked a little harder at her neck, wondering if he could raise a bruise.

Yeah, so much for rational thought. Phaedra was in serious trouble, and she knew it.

Not only did Saerian succeed in making her care about Lindsey... that was bad enough... now she was vulnerable because of him. The demon had created a weakness. Phaedra didn't want to go off and be an assassin. She'd rather stay put and feel.

The thought of someone else smoothing her edges to make her less dangerous made Phaedra beyond angry.

These things flashed through her head at something close to warp speed, eyelashes fluttering, mouth slightly open because of Lindsey's movements. He was going for her neck again... boy must really have a penchant for pain.

"I do have to go," she said, hating the sound of the words, hands running through Lindsey's hair. Despite herself, she had an over-developed sense of duty and loyalty; her firm needed her, she had to go. Besides, what Joe'd said about her mark made her want to rip the guy's throat out on principle. "Soon."

Li'sa'eer, why do you have to feel so good?

Could say the same 'bout you, darlin'. Can't get enough'f you...

Slowly, very reluctantly, Lindsey pulled away. His eyes were dark with hunger, obvious tent in his jeans...but he knew that she needed to go. He'd heard enough of the conversation to know that it hadn't just been a social call.

Even if he would rather spend the evening kissing every inch of her body rather than stuck alone in his dingy motel room. God, he hated this place. But he was too nervous - alright, alright, scared shitless - that he would run into Saerian if he went anywhere.

Not surprisingly, Phaedra was a little sad when he pulled back from her. The look on his face was very close to immobilizing, too. She managed a smile, at least. Shot through with sadness that was very obvious.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I really am."

And I'm also not leaving you alone. Eyebrow raising, aware that this might make Lindsey seriously pissed off, she started dialing the phone that was still in her hand.

She didn't get an answer, but Anita was great with voicemail. "Anita, it's Phaedra. Listen, I got a really badly timed call from Joe and I need to go out for a while. Work. It'd be great if you could do me a favor..."

Phaedra's eyes had found there way back to Lindsey. Her heart half-sank. "... keep someone safe while I'm gone."

She left her basic details about the hotel and hung up, bracing herself for the comments she was sure were going to come out of Lindsey's mouth.

Lindsey frowned as Phaedra looked at him, wondering what that look in her eyes was. He pulled back further as he listened to Phaedra, anger boiling inside him, rising quicker than blinking.

"I don't need protectin'." He growled, getting up, forcing her to slide off his lap. He walked around to the nightstand, lighting up a cigarette, forcing himself to do something, try and stop himself from getting more angry.

Phaedra fell off his lap, shocked a little, and stood, glaring at him as he paced.

"Do not start this conversation with me," she said, crossing her arms and tucking her phone back into her pocket. "You think I don't want to stay here with you? That I like having to call in a favor to Blake?"

Her voice took on an edge, a threatening edge. If he really didn't know what was going on in her head...

"If you vant to get mad at me, get mad," she said, aware that her accent was becoming more prominent. "At least I'll know you're safe."

"No, I don't want to get mad..." He sighed in exasperation, running a hand through his hair.

I'm just not used to not bein' able to take care'f myself. He knew Phaedra could tell how scared he was; and how much he hated it. Hated feeling helpless. Turning back to her, he walked over, fingers gently tilted her chin up.

"And what about you? Who's gon' keep you safe?" He murmured, dipping his head to kiss her softly.

I know. Better than most.

This might never cease to amaze her. Phaedra actually felt a wave of relief when Lindsey reached out and touched her. God, she was hung-up. She let him tilt her chin up, and kissed him back, softly.

"Me?" She managed a slight laugh. "I am. Anita is. This is just for an hour or two, ves'tacha."

She was armed, she was pretty much ready to go... if she could just get out the damn door without turning around, throwing her arms around Lindsey, and curling up into a ball.

"Think I c'n cope with that." He murmured with a wry grin. His fingers curled under her jaw, drawing her close for one last kiss.

"Get outta here before I drag you into bed." He smirked, gently pushing her hair back from her face, before nudging her towards the door.

I love you. See? He could say it.

She blinked, giving him back the grin, returning the kiss, already telling herself she'd be back soon, already hating the situation. She nodded to the comment, a fast thought of cute shooting over to Lindsey as she went for the door.

The last part didn't hit her until her hand was already turning the doorknob to leave.

A slightly ragged gasp that Phaedra didn't recognize as her own came out of her mouth. She looking over her shoulder at him, face very innocent and full of awe. She bit at her lower lip, then released it. It took everything she had not to run back into the room, back into Lindsey's arms.

She smiled, letting her face take on its normal degree of mystery and horror. I love you, too.

She turned the doorknob and her head back at the same time, and she was gone.

The Plan

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 13:42:23 GMT

The soft hum of strings under the pads of his fingers never failed to soothe Lindsey, and tonight was no exception. He was counting down the minutes until he could go looking for Phaedra, mind still whirling, trying to figure out a way of not end up dying messily at the hands of a batshit insane demon.

But right now, all that was in the background. Soft strumming filled the air, voice a little uncertain as he sang, not quite sure of all the words just yet.

"A little bit of Bourbon
And a broken neon sign
Once again I'm riding shotgun
To everything that's on my mind..."

She made it a point to find him.

Had to, right? Anita wanted him in on their plan, and he couldn't very well be in on said plan without being told what it was.

Part of why Phaedra was so good at her day night job was that tracking anyone was easy for her--long as they didn't know how to lock their mind up like a steel trap. Anyone could be found, if you looked hard enough. If you sorted through the din of thoughts surrounding you for just one voice.

Lindsey was no exception. Phaedra focused, and she found him. She made her way to his hotel a little too quickly, for mortal eyes. Then again, Phaedra never much cared about things like that. She passed the desk clerk, who looked more than half asleep, and took the elevator up to Lindsey's floor.

Got even easier from there. Not only was she hearing him in her head, but now she could hear Lindsey anyway. She was in earshot. And he was singing.

A slow smile spread across the vampire's face. A warm flush ran over her, which she both hated and loved. Hated because the flush came courtesy of the demon blood, and loved because... she could still feel. Phaedra walked down the hall, high heels silent on the shabby carpet, and stopped outside Lindsey's door, listening and biting her lower lip.

Oblivious to his silent audience, Lindsey continued to sing, voice a little more sure now, words untangling themselves in his mind as his fingers moved over the strings with ease.

"Well, I just haven't found a way
To say, I'm so in love with you
If you could hear it in my voice
And see it on my face
You left me with no choice
But to leave you for the chase
I-35 in the pouring rain..."

Bare foot tapped against the carpet, head nodding gently in time with the music as he sat on the corner of his unmade bed, in nothing but worn jeans.

Phaedra pushed her hair behind her ear, raising a pale hand to knock on the door but not really wanting the music to stop. He was... good. She wasn't sure she'd expected that. She figured Lindsey'd be able to play guitar or sing, but probably not both. That's usually how those things went. She stood corrected. And realized she was smiling, ear-to-ear. She'd half forgotten the reason she was there to begin with--the warnings, the plans.

Lindsey sang on, smiling softly to himself, picturing Phaedra as he sang, one song fading into the next without pause. His voice curled the words, blunt edges and soft sounds, accent more pronounced that it was when he spoke, closer to how he sounded when he spoke to Phae in his head.

"I guess I oughta tell you what's been going on
Well I've been chasing dreams for everyone but me.
When your heart is filled with misery
It's hard to find the energy
To remember just how much she means to me..."

On the other side of the door, the smile was still on Phaedra's face.

But she was realizing, slowly, that the longer she stood out here, the longer Lindsey would not know what was going on. Nice as the serenade was, she was concerned. If she could find him so easily, so could Saerian. She sighed lightly, taking the final step toward the door and releasing her lower lip from its spot under her teeth.

Phaedra knocked on the door, lightly, and smirked, shaking her head. One: he was playing a guitar and singing. He wasn't gonna hear it. And two: never in her life had she knocked on a door. Really. She usually just kicked them down.

She tried the door, and it was open. With an odd sense of anticipation, Phaedra pushed it all the way, swinging it inward, stepping inside without a sound and shutting the door again just as quietly.

"Well I keep everything inside so long till it burns
Everybody stokes the fire and the walls get a little higher.
I light the candle at both ends
And I hit the gas, the wheels start to spin
But she's always there to catch me when I fall."

Lindsey didn't notice the door open at first, eyes closed as he sang, almost imagining he could see Phae. He sensed something, though, slowly opening his eyes.

"'Cause I've been hell on wheels for days now
There ain't a shade of red I can't paint
When the lights go down, she always helps me see.
In the darkness a day will come
Another light for you to lean upon
But until then maybe your heart
Can rest in mine."

Voice growing quieter, he slowly trailed off, arms sliding to rest on the body of the guitar, chin resting on the top of his hand as he looked at her. Smiling so wide his eyes crinkled at the corners, he murmured a soft 'hey'.

Phaedra blinked, mouth softening in response. It wasn't a smile, but it was noticeably different from the tough vampire exterior she normally projected. She leaned on the door, arms behind her back, dark hair falling around her shoulders. She ran her eyes over him, trying not to make it obvious. They came to rest on the guitar.

"You're good," she said, eyebrows raising. Her voice may have held something like shock, but it was playful. She stepped away from the door, hands still clasped behind her back, and walked further into the room.

"Don't stop."

Lindsey sat up, smirking a little as her eyes raked down his body, fixing on his guitar.

"Thanks." He smiled, looking down, almost bashfully but for the grin on his face. He curled his fingers around the neck of the guitar, fingers lazily forming chord shapes almost without thinking.

"Any requests?" He looked up quickly, distractedly playing the intro to 'Tears in Heaven'.

Now there was a smile.

Arms crossing over her chest, black sleeves lacing into each other like ribbon, Phaedra made her way over to where Lindsey sat, standing in front of him, looking down at him.

"Requests?" She laughed, and it lit up her face. Why was he so good at that? She figured he just really didn't realize that things were funny. Asking a 307 year old vampire what song she wanted sung? That was funny. At least to the vampire.

She shook her head. "You're the one with the guitar, you call the tune," Phaedra said. That's how it works. How it had always worked, right back to when she'd sat around a fire as a young girl and one of her tribe would sing.

Lindsey shrugged and grinned.

"Alright. If you say so." He looked up at her.

"You gon' take a seat, or do I havta end up with a crick in my neck? Cuz I can think of much better ways to get one of those..." An utterly filthy image flashed through his head, wicked smirk curling his lips, wondering if Phaedra had caught it as well.

She nodded, taking a seat next to him, to the left of him. She hadn't wanted to crowd him; some people, she knew, liked their space while working on their art. God knew she did... if killing could be called an art.

The smirk didn't exactly catch her off guard, and the image didn't, either. She gave him one of each back: an equally evil smirk, and an image that could quite possibly cause Lindsey to drop his guitar on the floor.

On eye level now, she looked at him, smirk still on. "Go ahead," she said, gesturing with her chin toward the guitar.

Lindsey had to clear his throat, shifting a little as she made a good effort to destroy any braincells he had left. Or at least divert any blood away from his brain.

"...Right, yeah." He looked down at his guitar, still idly picking away. He had no idea what to sing - something she would know? Something he'd written?

Smiling to himself, Lindsey realised exactly what he'd sing. Wishing he had something other than his guitar - the song sounded great in his head, but then, in his head he had electric guitars, violins, and drums. Not so much in real life.

"Angels are dancing in my head again
And it keeps my walking pace a little faster than
What it used to be
'Cause she found me
Now there's dancing in my head
Am I crazy?
Well, yes, I am..."

Something like pure joy sparkled behind Phaedra's eyes. The reaction to what she'd done, the image she'd sent him... that was what did it. She'd always enjoyed being powerful; she'd never, ever hidden that or apologized for it. Wasn't gonna start now.

Lindsey was pretty pleased with himself, too. He started playing, fingers moving fast over the strings, and singing.

She wasn't sure where this was going yet, but so far, so cute. The look on her face mellowed; less predator, more sweet.

Lindsey wouldn't be particularly pleased to know he was being described as 'cute'...but then, he was being pretty sappy with this.

"I don't think that it seems really all that strange
When I'm skipping down the road singin' her name
But if you could see her walk across a crowded room
Then you would understand why I go insane
The way she glistens in the moonlight
The way she outshines the star brighter than any sun..."

He was looking at her now, eyes on hers as he sang, voice a little soft, fingers confidently dancing up and down the guitar.

"Well angels are singing in my head again
And I don't mind saying that sometimes I understand
I'm writing this lullaby
The coyotes cry
Well, they're singing in my head
Am I crazy?
Well, yes, I am..."

Phaedra might've pointed out the irony of the multiple uses of the word 'angel' in the song, but really, that was something cruel. That was something she'd do to a mark. Still, the thought flashed through her head, quickly stomped on and banished. The more he played, the more confident Lindsey got. It was disarming. Phaedra's mouth opened, not quite in a gasp. And when he looked up from playing, looked her in the eye...

She wouldn't know it, but emotion was registering on her face like a billboard. All the carefully constructed walls were falling down around her head. Phaedra had enough sense to be scared, to realize that Saerian had actually done what he'd set out to do: made her care for someone in order to hurt her. Fuck it, she thought. Listen to the damn song.

Lindsey never let his eyes drop, trusting his hands to find the right frets, the right strings. He couldn't look away, not now.

"And I don't think that it seems really all that strange
When I'm outside doing cartwheels in the rain
But if you could see her walk across a crowded room
Then would understand why i go insane
The way she glistens in the moonlight
The way she outshines the star brighter than any sun
Oh, then I tell you man well, yeah
Well, I just can't get enough
'Cause I'm
Crazy in love."

He didn't have time to think, to notice anything other than how beautiful she looked, how open she was right now.

"And I don't think that it seems really all that strange
When I'm skipping down the road singin' her name
But if you could see her walk across a crowded room
Then you would understand why I go insane
Yeah
Well, angels are laughing in my head again
I can see them laughing but I just don't give a damn
'Cause see it's you and me
Well, she ought to be
And there's angels in her head
Am I in love?
Yes, I am..."

He let the last note ring out, voice holding for as long as he could, somehow knowing that this was changing everything. Knowing that there was no way out of this, now. Swallowing hard, he looked down at last, running his fingers along still-buzzing strings, letting his guitar fall silent. He didn't dare look up, giving her that time to pull up her walls, if she wanted.

He wasn't looking at her anymore, which maybe was a good thing. But Lindsey could probably see her, see her face, at least peripherally. He could probably see what she was doing.

She was sick of thinking things like, 'never felt this,' 'never said this,' 'never laughed like this.' Sick of it. Her body, her brain-- operating as better than human for three centuries-- rebelled against it. But, floodgate open. Didn't matter how strong Phaedra was, she wasn't going to be able to close it.

What Lindsey was (or was not) seeing was this: a girl. Not the 300 year old monster sitting next to him on his bed that came complete with a body count that rivaled the Battle of Antietam.

A 23 year-old-girl, with wide green eyes that looked like a storm. With her mouth slightly open, as if the lips couldn't form an expression. With one hand up in front of her mouth, fingers extended, thumb resting on her chin, hiding the burgeoning smile and stifling a laugh. A girl who actually gulped once he finished the song.

Lindsey looked up, unable to stop the smile that broke out on his face as he looked at her.

"Huh. Not the first time I've left a girl speechless..." He murmured. He was a little nervous, having given away far more in that short little song than he'd ever intended.

"It's um...still sorta a work in progress..." He murmured, looking down at his guitar again, trying to think of something, anything to fill the silence.

not the first time I've left a girl speechless.

Phaedra's eyebrow raised. Something of what she'd been losing throughout the song slammed back into place. Walls, barriers, years, whatever. One sentence brought some of it back.

Great job, Lindsey. Phaedra nodded, suddenly very aware of what was going on in Lindsey's head. Oh. That softened the blow some. He was... what, floundering?

She smiled. "I'm shocked," she said, laughter in her voice. "You can do that, belt out an amazing song, and suddenly you're sheepish?"

Because the guy I know is very comfortable in his own skin.

She'd forgotten he was shirtless. Now she was noticing all over again.

Lindsey laughed self-deprecatingly, nodding.

"Yeah. Dumb, ain't it?" He looked over at her, finally letting go of the guitar, setting it carefully into the open case that lay at his feet.

"Can sing anything without battin' an eye. Cuz it doesn't mean anythin'." He hurriedly continued as she arched an eyebrow. "I mean it does, it's just..." he ran a hand through his hair.

"I can pretend it ain't me, singin'. Just playing a part." He shrugged. "Got so I stopped rememberin' how to sing honest."

Another thing you reminded me how to do...

"Sometimes, you get so tangled up in what comes out of your mouth that it's fun to watch you get back out."

She smirked, watching him put the guitar in the case. "How's that one go? 'Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy?'"

Phaedra caught the thought. Sing honest? You trying to tell me that wasn't just another performance?

She thought she was being reasonable. She'd let it all go... let him see her fall apart while he was singing. And now he was posturing?

Oh, and she knew damn well how the song went, too.

Lindsey's voice was tired, in her head.

Why would I try an' lie to you? You're just gon' find me out anyhow. He wasn't posturing; he just really wasn't used to talking about feelings. Wasn't used to having feelings.

And despite that look on her face as he'd sung, the soft smile on her face, it felt like she was laughing at him now.

"Down boy," she said, voice slightly harsh. She shook her head.

Why did everything always get so... complicated? This, this was why she remained closed off to begin with. Well, that and the thing about being a vampire. And the killing people. But aside from those two things...

She sighed. Phaedra wasn't going to apologize; she hadn't really done anything wrong. If both of them could just calm down for a second, they'd realize they were thinking the exact same things. A string of Roma expletives coursed out of her mouth.

Phaedra rose, running both hands through her mane of hair, then dropping her hands in frustration at her sides.

She stood facing Lindsey, facing the bed, and sank down so she'd be on eye level, kneeling in front of him. I sometimes feel I should just go home, but I'm dealing with a memory that never forgets...

The thought was loose, probably thrown at him. Frustration sometimes caused a lack of control of those things. Shutting her eyes momentarily, she managed to look Lindsey evenly in his. She could feel the blood rushing and silently cursed Saerian. She was dead. Dead blood didn't rush.

Human blood did. With emotion. God damnit. Her mouth, surprisingly, opened when she wanted it to. And sound actually came out.

"If I said I loved you," she said, eyes still trained on his, which, she thought, were an unfair shade of blue, "would you say 'you better?'"

She even managed a smile. One she meant.

Lindsey chuckled softly, her smile coaxing out on of his own. In place of an answer, he cupped her face with both his hands, fingers tangling in dark hair as he pulled her up, their lips meeting softly.

Hell yeah... He murmured in his mind, unable to keep his kiss gentle. A momentary flicker of fear ran through him - flash of 'what the hell are we gonna do now?', but he pushed it aside in favour of feeling her lips against his, her arms around him.

Something like relief washed over her. God, why were men so... what was the word? She didn't even know, in English. And all the Roma ones weren't very nice.

The kiss caught her a little by surprise, grabbing a gasp from her throat. But she returned it. And she felt the fear in him... a cold, long line, even though it was a short thought that ran fast through his head.

Now? Now I like where we are.

She smirked slightly as the kiss roughened. Was it physically impossible for the two of them to be gentle?

Probably.

And hey, Lindsey wasn't complaining about the lack of gentleness. He nipped at her lower lip, smirking as he fell back down against the bed, leggy vampire in his lap.

Yeah, nice an' cozy here. Room service, roach-free room, no crazed demons tryin' to pound me into the concrete...

Phaedra followed suit, falling back with him until she was sitting on his lap.

She looked at him, from where she sat, seriously hating the part that had to come next.

A slow, calm smile found its way to her face. At least things were good between the two of them, even if the world around them was going straight to hell.

"Lindsey," she said, aware as soon as she'd said it that her voice was changing, becoming more business-like. She didn't move, though, staying right where she sat. The view was spectacular.

"I've just come from a meeting with Anita Blake," she said. She dropped her head, a strand of dark hair falling forward. When she looked back up, her eyes were slightly squinted, as if she were bracing herself.

"Things are... changing."

His hands rested on her thighs, thumbs gently stroking her legs through the rough denim of her jeans.

"Blake as in the Executioner Blake?" He quirked an eyebrow, not entirely loving where this conversation was going.

"Ok...changing how?"

Phaedra nodded. "That's the one."

She was slightly distracted by the way he was touching her, but focused enough to continue talking.

She tilted her head. "The Vampire Council's decided to up the stakes here," she said. "No pun intended."

"They sent an envoy, and there was something about a bet... Anita got a phone call from Jean-Claude while we were bringing each other up to speed."

And when the Master of the City calls, even if it's not your city, you better listen.

Lindsey nodded.

"Ok, Vampire Council. I'm assuming this is going to end in bad news for us, right?" He cocked his head at her.

You know, we could just leave town...get the hell outta here, disappear a while... But she was a fighter. He knew she'd never leave.

She didn't want to say it, but she kinda had to.

"Worse than you think," she said, resting an idle hand on Lindsey's bare stomach.

She was assuming he knew about the Council. If he didn't, this conversation was going to take forever and probably make him cry.

"What do you know about the Council?" she asked. "Specifically, the way they handle things."

She shook her head at his thought. I don't run. I chase things till they give up.

Lindsey purred a little, arching up into the soft stroke of her fingers.

"Uh...smash competitors first, ask questions later?" He hadn't had any personal dealings with the Council, but he knew them damn well by reputation.

"I know enough ta know that the Council showin' an interest ain't a good thing."

Phaedra nodded at him, eyes resting on where her hand was.

"You're right. It's a very, very bad thing." She smirked at the purr that came out of him. Always funny when men purred.

"They sent a very powerful nighthag, the head of that line, named Morte D'Amour here. To talk to a specific vampire."

She looked at Lindsey, right in the eyes. "Morte D'Amour, in addition to being very old and one of the most frightening beings on the planet, has a special talent."

She paused, making sure he was paying attention. "He can remove souls."

"...and Angel's in town. Shit." Lindsey leant up on his elbows.

"We got time, or should I be expecting tortured sometime soon?"

She was a little surprised at the reaction. Clearly, Lindsey had never met Angelus, or he'd do more than just sit up too quick.

Phaedra nodded. "They sent him specifically for Angel. Some kind of bet. Fucking high-and-mighty Council."

She shook her head. They didn't know what they were messing with. They NEVER knew, every time they got involved.

"Angel's gone," she said, eyes going cold. "There is no more Angel."

Ok, that look didn't bode well. Last time Lindsey had seen it, Phaedra had had a knife to his throat.

"So now what?" You plannin' on huntin' him down, darlin'? He sat up fully, really wishing he could concentrate on the fact that he had a gorgeous woman sat in his lap, rather than a soulless vampire with a penchant for torture.

"I did last time," she said.

Something like memory flashed through her face. She really wasn't looking forward to going through that again. And this time she didn't have her Order's help. She shifted when he moved, hands settling around the back of his neck.

"That's kind of what I do," she said, words coming out with a little laughter. She had to remind herself that Lindsey didn't know her all that well.

You got my help, for what it's worth. He kissed her neck idly, nipping gently at warm skin. Nothing like a little distraction of an evening.

His help? Good. That's what she and Anita were counting on. His help. All the help they could get. And after what she'd seen... the bit of magic that let him turn her dagger into a sword... hell, Phaedra knew he'd be useful. Better than useful.

The kisses made her shut her eyes, lashes fluttering. The nipping... that was below the belt... which is exactly where she figured Lindsey was aiming. Biting the neck of a vampire. Did he not remember where that'd led last time?

Changing the subject, ves'tacha?

Eyes open, she sighed. "Good, we'd appreciate your help."

Sundown

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 00:47:45 GMT

Phaedra opened her eyes, focusing them slowly.

Hotel room. That's right, she thought. She'd forgotten, if that was even the term. When she was "asleep," she had no concept of anything. She remembered Lindsey leaving. That was the last thing. And she knew she hadn't dreamt, thank God. Her vivid nightmare just from napping was more than enough.

She sat up, blanket covering her, wondering how long she'd slept. Her thought directly after that startled her: she wondered where Lindsey was.

Shouldn't be attached. Not to a human. Not this quickly...She got out of bed, momentarily lamenting the loss of warm blankets, and walked to the little bathroom. Warm shower. That would be good. Then, outside.

She didn't necessarily need to feed, but she didn't need to kill to feed, either. Phaedra was silently scanning Sunnydale, sending out invisible fingers to reach for other vampires like her. Like her. She smiled to herself. None of them were like her.

But they were there. She started the water, very warm, and got into the shower. In half an hour more, she was out in the night.

Lindsey was trying to spend as little time in his flea-pit of a motel room as possible; one more day of hearing his neighbours fuck and fight through the wall, and he was moving. Maybe to Phaedra's hotel, if he had the money.

He'd left his guitar in his room; much as he was itching to play, he wasn't planning on wandering the streets like somehomeless street performer. He hadn't sunk quite that low yet. So here he was, sitting at one of the outside tables at the Espresso pump, nursing a large black cup of coffee.

It was never difficult for Phaedra to find people she was looking for; that's why she was so good at her job. There wasn't a single mark she couldn't track.

The thoughts were so easy to catch. She could almost see them, watch them. Lindsey's were about his guitar, right now. Phaedra smiled. She wasn't far from where he was. She'd fed (not killed). And she had said she wanted to see him again, hadn't she?

She followed the thoughts, rounded a corner, and calmly strode into the area that belonged to the Espresso Pump. High heeled boots clicked on the floor, jeans covering them slightly. Phaedra stood across from Lindsey now, and shook her head to get dark hair behind her shoulders.

"Hello, ves'tacha," she said.

Lindsey looked up from idly picking at the callouses on his fingers, face breaking into a brilliant smile as he saw Phaedra.

"Hey, darlin'. Pull up a chair." He jumped off his stool, pulling one out a little for her, taking off his battered hat and setting it on the third stool at his little table.

"Sleep well?"

Phaedra couldn't help but smile back.

She raised an eyebrow, watching him pull out the stool, then sat, watching him.

"Sleep?" The smile stayed put. "I'm not entirely sure that's really what it is. But... yes. No interruptions," she said, fully aware Lindsey'd get her meaning.

"And you?"

Before the question how was your day could come out of her mouth, Phaedra stopped it. Too close, too fast.

Lindsey nodded.

Couldn't exactly say, how was your death, could I? He pointed out, smiling as he sipped at his cup of coffee.

"Uneventful. Spent mosta the day tryin' to ignore the folks next door fightin' and then...makin' up." He grinned wickedly, knowing she'd get exactly what he meant.

Phaedra nodded. That would be pretty awkward.

Makin' up. Cute, she thought. "Get any rest?" she asked, crossing long legs under the little table.

"Some." He shrugged. "Not used to sleepin' during the day." Sleeping the morning away, yes. But by the time he'd got enough of that coffee and Sean's warnings out of his system to sleep, it had been mid-afternoon.

Phaedra was just watching him, still unused to being close enough (in whatever the meaning of the word 'close') to observe a human like this. Normally, closeness like this meant trouble. Or a job. Now the meaning was something different entirely. She gave Lindsey a small smile. "Sorry about that. The sleeping during the day."

Actually, I'm not sorry. I'm lying. In no way would I apologize for tiring you out last night.

Wouldn't accept it if you were, sweetheart. Take great pride in how tired I was today. He grinned at her.

"I'll cope. Nights suit me better any how." Plus, nights got your company. Definately better than Ron, behind the counter there. Think he's givin' me the eye...

Phaedra raised an eyebrow and looked over at Ron behind the counter. She smirked at Lindsey.

He very well may be. Then again, he could be looking at the hot girl that just sat down next to you.

This part of being close to people Phaedra missed. Despite the loner lifestyle (if lifestyle was the right word), she enjoyed flirting. And talking.

"And what were your plans for tonight?"

Lindsey's grin turned a little wicked.

Can't blame him for that, now. She certainly is a headturner. He reached out, almost unconsciously, brushing a lock of hair back over her shoulder.

"Nothin' much. Might hit a few bars, see if there's anywhere I c'n play."

The grin was cute, to Phaedra. Part of her was disgusted with herself for thinking that. Since when did she think guys were cute? Since pretty much now.

She smiled at the comment he threw to her.

"Play?" As soon as she said it, she saw him doing it. Saw the guitar--heard it. And felt roughened fingertips running over her skin. Phaedra shut her eyes for a second, then opened them and looked at Lindsey. "This I gotta see."

Lindsey smiled.

"I'm a little rusty. Gimme a few days." Not much chance to play, driving from place to place. It was only when he settled in some little dead-end town that he got a chance to practice. Still, he had an idea or two in his head.

"How did that start?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows for a second. "The guitar." She wasn't sure it went with the rest of what she knew about him.

"Played ever since I was a kid." He murmured, shrugging. "Guy in the year above me at school wanted to start a band, needed a guy to play a few chords and sit there quietly. I was never good at that part, but the strummin' sorta stuck." He smiled softly.

"Used to play at a bar in LA; but then, you know anythin' about Angel, you'll know the place. Owner's a friend a' his."

Those things she could picture. And 'the place,' of course. Why hadn't she thought of that?

"Caritas," she said, nodding slightly. "Interesting place."

When she said 'interesting,' both eyebrows rose and then lowered. While Phaedra liked the idea of a santuary, it had also made her job tougher, the few times she'd been on the job in L.A. Marks knew exactly where to go to stay alive.

Phaedra smiled at him. "Closest thing I have to that," she said, meaning the guitar playing, "are these."

She rested a hand on the hilt of a dagger, then let it drop.

"We all have different talents." He grinned, eyes flicking down to her daggers, back up to her face - much more pleasant to look at.

"Promise I'll play for ya in a few days, if you're still around."

"If I'm still around?"

Phaedra raised an eyebrow at him. "Where exactly do you think I'm going to go?" No job lined up. Anita was here. Lindsey was here. Hellmouth was here...

"There's too much going on here," she said. Quite a few good reasons to stay. She smiled for a split second, and it reached her eyes. I'm looking at one of them.

He shrugged.

"I don't know. Things crop up." Never know, I might end havin' to disappear again. He had to check on his truck, make sure he COULD leave, if he needed to.

But you're gonna make me blush, you keep talkin' like that...

Phaedra shook her head.

"I don't plan on going back to New York. At least, not until something is resolved out here. Joe can just farm off my assignments to his other vampires," she said. That wasn't a joke, but it didn't occur to Phaedra that Lindsey would think she was kidding. Her 'firm' was made up of vampires. There were a total of five. Phaedra didn't get along with any of them. Surprise.

"Besides," she said, playful smirk starting across her face, "he knows better than to bother me when I'm busy."

Maybe that was the goal, ves'tacha. I like where I've got you. She leaned back a bit, long legs still crossed under the table.

"Busy doin' what?" He grinned. Can't just be teasin' a poor defenceless guy like me, now...

Phaedra's eyes twinkled. "Busy checking things out out here. Making sure that the world isn't getting sucked into hell."

Defenseless? She smiled, dark eyebrow arching again. Teasing doesn't enter into it, either. If it did... "...you wouldn't be so tired."

Against you, yeah. Lindsey didn't answer verbally, smiling a little as he looked at her. Oh, he was in trouble. But he just couldn't bring himself to care.

The smile faded, but it stayed in Phaedra's eyes. She blinked her green eyes twice, and her mouth dropped open slightly. Not gaping, just open. He'd surprised her. She thought for a second about telling him that, but decided against it. The assassin was surprised? Bad for business.

"Careful," she said, breath almost a whisper. "Your soul's showing."

"Didn't know I still had one." He murmured, only half-joking. He reached out, brushing the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

"You wanna get outta here?" He slipped off his chair, settling his stetson on his head.

Phaedra closed her mouth, tongue running over fangs behind her lips. A slight tingle came with Lindsey's touch. She nodded in response to his question, standing up. She was managing to do a good job of being inconspicuous while armed--something both Phaedra and Anita were masters of.

"Where to?"

The moments that didn't seem so bad usually didn't last very long. Especially when they were happening in this certain vampire's unlife.

Angel had turned the corner by the Espresso Pump, his hands tucked into the pockets of his duster, and stopped immediately. Taking a step back, a shoulder pressed against the building, lurking in the shadows. "Well, if it isn't everyone's favorite leather clad vampiress." The words would echo in her head, hopefully. She always seemed to know he was around.

From this position, it took a moment to see who she was sitting with. The next few words wouldn't pass to the other vamp. "You'd think he'd learn." Tempted to go over to throttle everyone's least favorite lawyer, his fingers clenched to form fists.

The smile fell off of her face.

...everyone's favorite...

Immediately, Phaedra looked over her shoulder--first one, then the other. Lindsey was going to think she was losing it. That or actually pick up on the fact that something was up.

She didn't move. Instead, she turned back to her cowboy, managing a weak smirk. Where are you? she thought, directing it to the vampire she knew was nearby. Phaedra was pretty sure she knew who was doing the thinking; not very many would even attempt that kind of sarcasm with her.

"Give me a minute, would you?" she said to Lindsey, walking away from the table.

[fight with Angel goes here. Can't be arsed posting it in right now.]

Phaedra walked away from Angel, slightly dazed by the encounter and slightly proud. Hey, a fight was a fight. And a fight with Angel, well, that tended to put a spring in Phaedra's step. Especially since she'd drawn blood.

She meant what she said, though. Lindsey was getting pinned to a wall. Until she got some answers.

She didn't want to believe that he'd known who she was all along, but everything, everything Angel said made that seem like the only possibility.

She was walking back the way she came now, the same path. Instead of rushing, she was taking her time, trying to figure out what she was going to say and how she was going to say it.

Phaedra saw the Espresso Pump, saw the table where she'd been sitting, and saw Lindsey, standing there. It'd only been about 15 minutes since she'd gotten up. 15 minutes.

She just looked at him, crossing her arms over her chest, her narrow back to the street.

Lindsey took a step towards her, smile fading just a little at the way she was standing. Kinda threatening, if he was capable of being threatened.

"Where'd you run off to, darlin'?"

Phaedra managed a slight smile. Hey, she could at least be civil until she hurt him, couldn't she? Besides, even after the deluge of anger because of what Lindsey'd probably done, Phaedra still found him... charming. Damnit.

"Had to deal with something," she said, accent very thick. She sighed, looking down to the pavement, then back up to Lindsey's eyes. "Another vampire was here. One that doesn't like me much."

"Oh?" Frowning, Lindsey stepped closer, brushing her hair back from his face.

"Hey, you ok?" He murmured. You seem a little...off... He tilted her chin up, looking at her for a moment, before bending his head to kiss her sweetly.

Phaedra let him move her hair, let him kiss her. She even kissed him back, eyes squeezed shut.

Pulling back, she said, "Yeah, rattled. Take a walk with me?"

He nodded. "Sure." He slid his hands into his pockets, still a little on edge. Something wasn't right. But he walked silently at Phaedra's side, along near-deserted pavements.

You gonna tell me what it is got you all rattled, or m'I gonna stay clueless?

Phaedra walked, trying to figure out how to do this. She, typically, would just beat answers out of Lindsey. She didn't want to do that unless she had to. She muttered a Roma curse, aggravated at her situation. Abruptly, she stopped walking and faced Lindsey.

"You knew who I was, before I told you, didn't you?"

"What?" Lindsey blinked, wondering where the fuck that had come from.

"I..." And he couldn't fucking lie. Not to her.

"I knew of you. But I didn't know you were...you." Or could he?

"I had heard of Phaedra. But I didn't know what she looked like. What you looked like." He murmured softly. "I saw your tattoo in the files, the one on the lighter..."

Her eyebrow had begun its ascent to arching as soon as the 'what' came out of the lawyer's mouth.

"So you read the files?" If Phaedra was one for yelling, she'd be doing it. "You read about me?" A little noise, almost a grunt, came out of her throat. "What did they say, counselor? What did you already know about me?"

Choose your words wisely.

"Not much." He insisted, keeping his voice quiet, calm.

"My bosses were after Saerian. You came up in his files. I read a few, but...they didn't say much. I swear." He looked at her pleadingly.

Darlin', everything I've said and done over the past few days...I've meant it all. If I could forget everythin' I did, or said, for those bastards, I would. I promise you, I ain't hiding anythin' that matters to you.

Been more honest with you in two days than I have my whole life. He knew she could feel the truth in his words; it was honest, after all. She knew more about him than most of his so-called 'friends'.

"Those bastards, huh?" A bitter laugh came out before Phaedra could stop it. "Lindsey, if your firm has half the assets they say they do, 'bastards' doesn't cover it."

She took a breath, stepping forward, putting herself inches away from him. "Those files tell you how many people I killed? Or can lawyers not count that high?"

Saerian? Wouldn't they make him employee of the month?

Lindsey shook his head. "'Bastards' don't come anywhere close to the kind of people they are." He stood his ground, flicker of unease in his eyes.

"No, they didn't. I know you're dangerous, Phaedra. Don't need figures on a page to tell me that much."

They like playin' with things they don't understand. Saerian'd be one of those.

"So am I," she shot back.

"When Angel drops back into my life to warn me about you, I think your explanation has to be better than that." The raised eyebrow was a dare now. This might end up being the second time in one night she had to stab somebody. Oh, Sunnydale was fun.

"Start explaining," she said. "Or I start reading your mind."

Lindsey actually growled at that. Fucking Angel. Of course.

"So you're taking him at his word now?" He snapped. "Since when did you trust a fucking word out of his mouth?" He took a deep breath. Getting angry really wasn't a good idea.

"I'm tellin' the truth. I didn't know anythin' about you beyond how Saerian made you. I swear." He held up his hands.

"Phaedra...look at me." He didn't dare touch her, but he met her eyes, trying not to let his fury at Angel take over.

"I swear to you I'm tellin' the truth. Ain't lied to you once. Up to you if you believe me, or if you wanna go pokin' about in here." He tapped his forehead. "But you ain't gonna learn anything'll do you any good."

The growl was met with a scowl.

"I am not taking him at his word," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "I never have. I beat him and stabbed him, Lindsey. He walked away bleeding. Point is he doesn't warn me about things."

She raised her fiery green eyes to his blue ones, because he'd requested it "We're not close."

The entire situation was uncomfortable. Phaedra wanted to believe him. She really did. "You used to argue for a living," she said, a slight smile coming to her mouth. "Make me believe you."

Lindsey sighed as he looked at her. He really didn't want to lie. Or argue. Or rely on anything he'd learnt at Wolfram and Hart. He wasn't that guy any more, much as Sean would have him believe otherwise.

"I..." He stopped, not even knowing what he was going to say. Throwing caution to the wind, common sense screaming, he cupped her face in broad hands, holding her still as he pressed their lips together, kissing her fiercely.

She had been doing her best at being threatening. Really, after 300 years, Phaedra was good at threatening. Arms were crossed, face was blank.. the whole nine.

Daggers probably didn't hurt, either. She watched him sigh, and pace, and her mouth opened in shock when he kissed her. But she kissed him back, just as fiercely, hands and arms winding around his waist.

He tipped her head up, a little, deepening the kiss as his fingers threaded through her hair, utterly dominating the kiss, with so little effort. He finally pulled back, dragging his eyes open to look at her.

"Convincin' enough for ya, darlin'?" He murmured a little huskily, thumbs stroking her cheeks, sliding back to wind around her body, holding her close. He just wanted to forget about everything else, for now.

For a second, Phaedra found herself wondering if Lindsey knew his Shakespeare; 'you kiss by the book' was all she could think. She was in total shock, and a little breathless from the kiss. Her eyebrow arched; she couldn't see Lindsey's face because of how he was holding her. She could hear his heartbeat, though.

"For now," she said.

He nodded, kissing her hair gently.

"You gonna tell me more 'bout that fight?" He murmured. "Can always stand to hear about Angel getting the crap kicked outta him..."

Phaedra laughed. "What do you want to know?"

You two are a mess.

She moved, pulling back slightly so she could look up at him. "You want to know about the part where I threw him into a brick wall, or the part where I cut him open?"

"Both of those sound pretty damn good..." Lindsey laughed, gently nudging underneath her chin with a knuckle.

"He get any hits in?" She didn't look injured, but that didn't mean much.

Phaedra shook her head, smiling. The head shake was for Lindsey's comments, not a reply.

"He did," she said. "I heal." Faster than a speeding bullet.

With mock innocence, she blinked at him. "I kicked him in the neck."

Lindsey whooped quietly, tightening his arms around her waist and swinging her around.

"That's my girl." He grinned. He set her down, calming a little.

"We still gonna get outta here?" He didn't know how much she trusted him, if she still wanted...whatever was going on between them.

The grin was infectious. 300 year old vampires, as a rule, didn't grin. Ruined the image. But Phaedra was close to grinning. The spinning around had helped. She nodded in answer to the question, raising a playful eyebrow. "Where do you want to go?"

Anywhere but here... Lindsey pushed the thought away almost before it was fully-formed, sliding an arm around her shoulders with a smile.

"C'mon. My truck's fixed. Let's go for a spin." And yeah, his truck was old, and rusty, and temperamental. But she was freedom, and he fucking loved her. Bout the only thing in this world he did.

She smiled slightly. A ride? How incredibly... human. She kept forgetting, and then remembering, that she was dealing with a human. Such an odd concept; her head wasn't around it yet, at all. She'd never really dated anyone, not as a mortal. And as a vampire... well, vampires were solitary. Especially in her line of work.

Going for a ride with a guy was totally foreign.

"Okay," she said, pushing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.

Lindsey grinned wider, guiding her down the street to where his truck was parked.

"She's not much, but she's done me good over the years." He murmured as he stopped beside her, opening the door for Phaedra and offering her a hand into the beat-up '57 Ford.

"Loyalty," she mused. "I understand loyalty." Too well.

Phaedra raised an eyebrow at his extended hand. Was he serious?

"Are you serious?" She smiled. "I don't think a man has ever opened a door for me."

She took his hand and got up into the passenger seat.

"First time for everythin'." He grinned. He walked around the front of the truck, climbing into the driver's seat and starting the engine.

"You mind if I grab a burger or somethin' on the way outta town? I didn't get any dinner yet." He looked a little embarrassed; she didn't eat, after all, and he really...wasn't particularly interested in food, but his stomach was complaining.

Phaedra shook her head. Why should she care? Food held very little appeal for her. It could look good, yeah, but her mouth would never water again. Not for anything but blood.

She started to say 'I wouldn't deprive myself on your account' and stopped. That would be bad.

"Where are we going?" Phaedra asked, settling back into the seat.

"Don't know yet." He grinned, pulling in to the Doublemeat Palace and grabbing a burger and a soda from the drive-thru. He finished it off while he drove, tossing the trash over his shoulder into the back.

"Figured we could do with gettin' away from things" and Angel, "for a while."

Fast food baffled her, but she didn't say anything. What Phaedra remembered of food was sitting at a table, with a bottle of wine. Taking your time. Or sitting around a fire, surrounded by people.

Culture shock.

"And where did you figure we'd do that?"

He shrugged, heading out of Sunnydale, into the desert.

"Just...away." He murmured, one arm stretched out along the bench seat of the truck, fingers of his other hand tapping against the wheel as he drove.

Phaedra was just watching him, the nervous tapping amusing. Fidgeting on my account?

"I don't believe you don't have a plan," she said, pushing dark hair out of her face.

Nah, just a habit. He smiled, still tapping out some kind of rhythm on the steering wheel.

"I never have a plan. S'what makes it interestin'." Flashing a grin at her, he continued to drive, humming quietly.

Her eyebrow raised. It seemed to Phaedra that a lot of eyebrow raising was done on Lindsey's account.

She still didn't believe that. Werent' those tattoos a plan, of some kind?

She smiled back at him, mind wandering. A lot of driving these past few days... New York to St. Louis, St. Louis to L.A., L.A. to Sunnydale. Phaedra was a long way from anything resembling home.

"Tell me about the truck," she said.

The tattoos were protection, of a sort. He didn't really have a plan, other than kicking Angel's ass. And he'd need a little help to do that.

"She was my Daddy's truck when I was a kid." He grinned. "Rescued outta a junkyard outside of town. He got her runnin' again, drove her for ten years, before I was old enough to pass my test. Gave her to me as a birthday present." Just about the only thing he'd ever got from the guy.

Phaedra smiled.

Such a nice memory, it was so obvious. She got a kick out of how cars were always women, to men. Always 'her.'

"I'm impressed she still runs," Phaedra said. "She's, what, 50 years old?"

He nodded, smiling as he dug a cigarette out of his pocket.

"Yep. Give or take. Reckon she's a '57 Ford, though it's hard to tell under all the rust." He looked across at her, grinning. "May break down every now and again, but she's pretty darn reliable for her age."

50 years wasn't that long, for Phaedra. But it was still impressive that the truck moved. She stretched her legs, pushing her lower back against the seat and bringing her right leg up, knee to her chest, one black boot on the dashboard.

Phaedra wasn't one for sitting like a lady.

Gonna yell at me for putting my feet up?

Darlin', you've seen the state of this truck, right? Your boots on the dash aren't gonna make a heck of a difference.

He swung the truck off the road and onto the packed earth, managing to dodge bushes for the most part.

"Used to do this when I was growin' up..." He murmured, pulling to a halt a little ways off the road.

Phaedra smirked, and then raised an eyebrow as the truck pulled off the road.

"Looks like home," she said, voice slightly sad. "Do what?"

"This." He hopped out of the truck, grabbing a blanket from the back and dropping the tailgate. He spread the blanket over the bed of the truck, hopping up and beckoning to her.

"C'mere." He murmured, lying back on the blanket, arms behind his head, feet dangling off the end of the truck.

C'mere. A one-word sentence, and something about it made Phaedra almost melt.

This was getting to be a problem. Lindsey was... was what? Making her fall for him? Three centuries and no one had gotten that to happen before. What the hell was it? She wanted to know, still, how much was real and how much was an act, how much was lies...

Phaedra opened the passenger-side door, black boots hitting the dirt, and nudged the door shut with her hip. A slight smirk on her face, she walked around to the back of the truck (though she could've jumped and landed in the bed from where she stood... but that might scare the poor boy), climbing up into the back and sitting next to Lindsey.

She slid herself down so that she was lying back, too, and looked away from Lindsey and up at the sky.

Lindsey shuffled closer until they were touching from shoulder to hip.

"Used to drive out into the middle'f nowhere, and jus' look up at the sky. Some nights, it'd be clear enough you could see millions of stars. Least, that's what it felt like." His voice was a soft murmur in her ear as he looked up at the night sky.

The proximity of his lips to her ear made Phaedra's flesh tingle.

God. Damn. It.

She smiled, though. "You should've seen the night sky in Romania, or Germany, in the forests..."

Phaedra's voice became a little more far away. "So many stars, so many. And the sky so clear. Before all the exhaust and the smoke. Just crisp, dark night."

He noticed that shiver, smiling a little as he looked up at the sky.

"Sounds beautiful." He murmured, turning his gaze back to her, wondering where in time she was right now. Certainly not here.

Reaching out, he gently caressed her face, wondering how the hell he'd got himself in this mess.

Phaedra shut her eyes, banishing the thought of sitting out in the forest, on the limb of a tree, with her older brothers. Before she could stop it, a single tear ran down her cheek.

"It was beautiful," she whispered. She opened her eyes, turning her head to Lindsey, face very human and vulnerable.

"You're wondering things, ves'tacha," she said. "Ask me."

"Just wonderin' how the hell I got myself into this mess..." He murmured softly. And for a moment, he was tempted. To tell her everything. But he'd seen her angry. He really didn't want to be on the recieving end of that again.

Phaedra laughed. There were a lot of messes he could be talking about. She pushed herself up on one elbow, watching his face.

"The one where you're lying with a vampire in the back of your truck?"

"The one where all I can think about when I'm with you is kissin' you." He murmured, soft smile on his face.

"And when I'm not, all I can think about is seein' you again."

Everything in Phaedra's body stopped. She didn't ever breathe, not really, but her breath caught. Blood ran cold in her veins, but not the bad kind of cold... the kind where everything starts to tingle.

Her eyes softened, hard vampire exterior crumbling. God, was this all it took? A soft Southern accent and a smile, and a pair of hands that knew their way around?

"That's all you can think about?" she managed, voice very soft.

"Mmmhmmm." He nodded, turning onto his side, leaning on one elbow and looking down at her.

"Well...mostly kissin'. And...other things." He smiled a little wickedly, fingers skating across her stomach, every touch hesitant. He was letting her call the shots now; if she didn't want this, she could push him away.

Phaedra didn't move. If a second ago everything froze, now it was ice. The kind of ice that turning into desire. His hand on her stomach was interesting, and not unpleasant. Warm. But then, she'd fed. She was warm, too. She would be for a few days.

Yellow-green eyes locked on Lindsey's face, and a slight smile graced Phaedra's face.

I'm not reading your mind, but I know what you're thinking.

Lindsey chuckled.

Think anyone could tell what I'm thinkin' right now... He leant close, lips hovering above hers, looking down at her for a moment.

"You gon' kick my ass if I kiss you?"

"Try it and find out," Phaedra said, eyebrow still raised. The glint in her eyes was playful, but she kind of liked to see Lindsey squirm.

Grinning, Lindsey shifted just a little closer, his hand resting lightly on her waist as he leant down, gently pressing his lips against hers.

Of course, this was them. And gentle didn't stay that way for long. He kissed her hungrily, tugging her close, wrapping his arms around her deceptively slender form.

Phaedra managed not to yell when the cold metal of Lindsey's bracelet touched her bare skin. Instead, she returned the kiss she was being given, wrapping her arms around Lindsey in return. One leg wrapped around his legs, pulling him as close to her as possible.

She pulled back, looking up at him. "See? Ass not kicked. Well, not yet."

"S'a start..." He grinned, pressing tighter against her, breathing a little rougher as his hips ground forward.

"Don' think I'll ever get enough of you..." He murmured, kissing a path down her jaw, nipping sharply at her neck, lapping away the sting.

Phaedra smirked, and the smirk became a soft 'o' shape as Lindsey bit at her.

"Not fair," she said, voice breathy. "You can bite me, but I can't bite you."

What she'd said the other night was true; he wasn't food. But that wasn't all there was to feeding, for Phaedra. It was very sexual, and even more intimate. And something she'd never take by force.

Lindsey's breath caught, and his hips hitched forward almost before he'd realised.

Yeah, it was a turn-on; that wasn't a problem. Problem was she'd know everything inside his head if she did. But thing was, he didn't want to hide any more. He was fucking tired of lying - and coming from him, that said something.

Wordlessly, he turned his head, stretching his neck out. His fingers combed through her hair, gently cradling her face. Her choice.

Phaedra was hanging by that proverbial thread. Either Lindsey knew exactly what he was doing, or he had no idea. Either way, the taunting was almost past what she could take.

You just did not bare your neck like that, around a vampire. Li'sa'eer. He was asking for it.

But he was going to have to use his voice if that was the case. Phaedra began kissing his neck, teeth grazing it, running over it. The blood under the surface made her think she was going to go insane.

"You're a tease," she whispered, voice almost all breath.

Yes or no?

Lindsey's breathing was a little uneven now, pulse picking up as her fangs gently scraped his neck.

"Yess..." He breathed, eyes slipping closed. No going back now. She was going to find out everything. And he wanted her to.

The 'yes' was all she needed. Good for you, Lindsey. I'm glad you aren't afraid to bleed.

Phaedra kissed Lindsey's neck one more time, then moved so that she was leaning against him. Pushing a few stray dark hairs behind her ear, she shut her eyes, fangs sinking into the lawyer's neck, all the way in.

The blood hit the back of her throat in a gush, and Phaedra made a muffled noise of pleasure.

She could feel... everything. It was all there.

She could feel... him. She saw Lindsey as a kid, and his brothers and sisters. Their house. She saw a pretty girl smile, and knew that was Lindsey's first crush. She saw the truck they were lying in. She saw graduation from law school, the Wolfram and Hart offices, Darla, Angel... she felt it when Lindsey lost his hand.

She didn't release the bite. Not yet.

Gasping, Lindsey looked up at the sky, eyes wide yet unseeing. At least, not seeing the sky above them. He clutched at her, moaning softly as she drank from him, flickering images passing between them.

Helpless to stop it, he merely rode the wave of memories flowing through his mind, arching up against her as she continued to feed.

She was going to have to stop soon, she knew. Or she could really hurt Lindsey. His heart was beating very fast, which didn't surprise her.

Eyes still shut, the images kept coming.

... now he was arriving in Sunnydale, the truck breaking down. And now he was at a garage with the truck.......

Phaedra's eyes snapped open, but the bite didn't end. She needed to know the rest.

There was Saerian, making a deal with Lindsey. Telling him where to find her, what to say with her...

Despite herself, the blood still felt amazing. It still had her right on the edge of lust.

A low whimper came out of her throat, strangled and hurt.

Lindsey knew what she was seeing now. Knew exactly what she was feeling.

"I'm sorry." He choked out, closing his eyes. He turned his face away, a little ashamed of himself.

It was the only way to tell you...

Phaedra let go of the bite, deciding that she was going to be the bigger person... at least for now. She bit her wrist and put the blood on his wounds, and then she watched them close. That done, she sat, glaring at him, head slightly lowered.

Her voice was nothing but anger, and lower than Lindsey'd ever heard it.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you where you are," she said.

"Because if I hadn't wanted you to know, I could have said 'no'." Lindsey pointed out, rubbing his neck. Blood smears on his fingers, but his neck was healed, as if she'd never touched him. He almost wished she'd left a scar.

He knew she was angry - hell, a blind and deaf mute woulda known she was angry. But there was nothing he could do about that, she had every right to be.

Phaedra's eyes narrowed. That flashing green that so many men loved was turning cloudier, more stormy, by the second.

"You made a deal with Saerian," she said, as though she had to hear it out loud. "And you... planned on playing me."

The impact of the words out of her own mouth hit home. Hard. Phaedra threw her head back, pale white throat stretching, and laughed. When she looked at Lindsey again, her entire demeanor had changed.

Where before she had made an effort to mask her preternatural traits slightly, now she let them fly. Better to let loose with the pulse-pounding terror when you know you're gonna use it. It was never her appearance that she masked; it was the way she moved.

Now, sitting in the back of the truck, everything about her screamed that she wasn't human. Rising, Phaedra put her hands on her hips, looking down at Lindsey with contempt. "Get. Up."

And every instinct Lindsey had, every little remnant of that dark shape that had only just crept out of the trees, the one that told the hairs on the back of your neck to rise, the one that made you hurry home through the dark...was telling Lindsey to get the fuck out of there.

But this was Phaedra. And he owed her an explanation. She wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp? She had every fuckin' right to. Climbing to his feet, he stood, head bowed.

Phaedra wasn't sure what she wanted, but she damn sure didn't want anyone to think that using her was acceptable.

What, the fangs weren't scary enough or something? Part of her was baffled. But this was Saerian they were dealing with. A demon that made her lay still in the middle of a psychic inferno. But Lindsey... just...who did he think he was, facing down a vampire?

"You can't even look at me now," she said, making it an observation. She tsked at him. Then she reached back, balled up her hand into a fist, and aimed for Lindsey's jaw.

Always had a good right hook.

Good enough to send him flying backwards, and unluckily for him, the side of the truckbed caught him in the back of the calves, balance just off-center enough that he fell out of the truck and into the dirt.

"Can't say I didn't deserve that..." He stood, rubbing his jaw as he looked at her.

"Alright, I knew who you were. Knew enough about ya to know what to say. But I swear to God I never meant it to turn out this way. Wouldn't be here if this was just a job." And yeah, he'd known turning Saerian down wasn't really an option - talk about a rock and a fucking hard place.

Despite what he was saying, Phaedra had a feeling Lindsey just didn't get it. Deserve that? Phaedra could have killed him in about 78 different ways--without thought. He was breakable. He was human.

He was playing with fire. Standing in the bed of the truck, looking down at Lindsey, Phaedra smirked.

"Is this the part where you tell me it started out a job, but now I matter to you?"

Cause I've used that line on people, Lindsey. I've used that line and then shot people in the head.

She jumped off the truck, down onto the dirt with him. Faster than he could see, Phaedra kicked him in the shoulder.

"So fucking shoot me." Lindsey glared up at her from the dirt.

"Cuz Christ knows it's the only way I'm gonna be thinkin' clearly." He scrambled to his feet, moving out of range. Well, not really - he knew damn well she was letting him up, letting him stand back.

"You messed me up good, Phaedra. Time was I'd be able to just walk away, job done. But you got me remembering things I thought I was done with." He paced, keeping his eye on her, still not retaliating - he wasn't nearly stupid enough to try that.

"Watch it," she snapped after his first comment.

Her eyebrow hitched upward, hiding under dark hair. A slight amount of color crept into her face; a good fight always did that for her.

"And I'm supposed to what, believe this?" She sighed, exasperated. And out came one of the daggers, suddenly at home in her right hand, then pressed to Lindsey's neck. "What are you remembering? How easy was it for him to get you to do this?"

Her voice was loud, but even.

Lindsey held very. Very. Still.

"Remembering what's like to give a shit about somethin' other than my own skin." He snapped.

"Which was pretty much the motivation for agreeing to the stupid fucking idea in the first place. You ever stood up to Saerian? You're a fucking immortal, and he just walks right over you. How exactly am I s'posed to say no to him?" He looked at her, pleadingly.

"I'm a coward, a'ight? Ain't nothing I won't do if I can walk out of a situation with my skin intact. He had me pinned against a wall, chokin' the life outta me just for thinkin' about pulling outta this." He ran his hand through his hair.

"Goddamnit, Phae. You saw what happened. You know what I felt. Ain't none of that was a lie."

Phaedra was stunned, but she didn't move. His anger made her want to hurt him, but at the same time...

He hit close to home. Ever stood up to him? He destroyed my family. He killed me. I made sure he went to hell...

And that wasn't enough. He did walk right over her. Reduced her to a prone corpse in the middle of a park. She didn't have to push; the image was there. She could see Saerian pinning him. Shaking her head, slowly, back and forth, Phaedra pushed the knife a little closer to his throat.

"What did you feel?" she asked, voice rough with rage. She lapsed into Roma then, unable to adequately express her emotions in English.

"You havta ask?" Lindsey gritted out, head tilted up, breathing fast through his nose as he fought the urge to just walk away, say 'fuck this'.

"I feel like...no matter how much time I spend with ya, it's not enough. Like I said, all I think about is kissin' you, and when I'm not with you...it's like bugs under my skin, like I'm fuckin' addicted to you." Far easier, to put it down as addiction, need. Far easier that than put a name to the traitorous feelings inside him.

"Given your business partner, yeah, I have to ask," she said quickly after his question.

The rest felt like a jolt. She knew he wasn't lying, but it's not like she trusted easily. Or ever. Rational thought had long since gotten up and lift for Phaedra. If she was thinking, she wouldn't have a knife to Lindsey's throat. He'd be dead, drained. Another unexplained body for the hapless Sunnydale P.D. At the least, he'd be bleeding and face down.

She opened her mouth, face still angry, as if she were about to speak. Nothing came out.

Again, faster than Lindsey's human eyes would be able to follow, the dagger was thrown, end over end, landing firmly in the ground behind him. She smirked, just for a second, and knocked him to the ground, pinning him there, one hand sliding down the front of his pants as she leaned forward to (almost viciously) kiss him.

Somehow, he went from upright with a knife at his throat, to on his back with a slender hand down his pants and a tongue doing a good job of reducing his brains to rather gooey mush.

A little confused - but hey, groping and kissing was better than threats at knifepoint - he kissed her back, both hands winding in her hair. Rolling them over, he bit harshly at her lip, pulling away and staring down at her.

"What the fuck?" Perhaps not the most eloquent of responses, but it summed up Lindsey's thoughts this evening.

The bite got a gasp.

Phaedra looked up at Lindsey, smirk back in place, completely fine with lying on her back in the middle of nowhere, in the dirt.

Simple, ves'tacha.

She sent him the thoughts, just lying there looking him in the eye. You're the cowboy, right? You saddled up my anger... Now I need something to ride.

Phaedra smiled. "What? Want to go back to fighting?"

She sat up for a second, biting at Lindsey's lip. She nicked him, a drop of blood landing on her tongue.

"You're fucking crazy." He snarled, crushing their lips together. They rolled once again in the dirt, until he was looking up at her, hands tearing at her clothing, wanting to feel skin against his, rather than all that leather and denim.

Phaedra kissed him back, just as hard. Hey, if he wanted to go shot for shot with a vampire, she was going to give as good as she got, if not better.

Lindsey was going to be bruised.

But I'm your kind of crazy, she shot back, ending the kiss to look at him, and smiling slightly.

The hands running over her jeans and button down shirt were frantic; it was cute. Phaedra was still angry. But she also knew Lindsey was, at least, partially right. What was he going to do against Saerian? Flail?

She started unbuttoning his shirt.

Hell yeah.

Lindsey wasn't nearly so careful with her clothes as she was with his; buttons went flying as he ripped her shirt open, hands caressing the flat planes of her stomach, mouth tracing the swell of her breasts, lips closing over a peaked nipple as he fumbled with the fastening of her jeans.

She was laughing; she couldn't help it. The loss of buttons was funny. The laughter was not cheerful, though: it still had that anger underneath. Head back, eyes unfocused, Phaedra took Lindsey's shirt off completely, hands running over his chest.

Lindsey was a little amazed that he hadn't been kicked in the teeth or shoved onto his back; but hey, he wasn't complaining. He got her jeans undone, pulled down to her knees with one swift sharp tug - and he was sure he heard material rip as he did so. Ah well.

Leaning up for another fierce kiss - lips already swollen and bruised-looking - he undid his belt one-handed, kneeling between her thighs.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Phaedra knew that she was going home either naked or wearing clothing that was shredded.

She smiled a little meanly, kissing Lindsey back, noting with serious amusement the state of his lips.

You're driving, kid--for now, she told him silently, pulling back from the kiss and kissing his chest. In another second, one of the kisses turned into a playful bite. Make it count.

Lindsey hissed, grinning down at her wickedly.

Oh, I plan on it. Dragging her underwear down, he wriggled out of his jeans - or at least, pushed them out of the way - catching her lips in his as he slid two fingers inside her.

The sound that started in her throat got lost to Lindsey's lips. Phaedra's hips moved upward, toward his hand.

The anger coursed through her body, and now it was mingled with all of Lindsey's touches. Her hands moved below his waist now, mind racing over the last several minutes and the events they contained.

Maybe we should fight more often.

Lindsey chuckled.

Mmm, angry sex has it's advantages... Impatient, his fingers slipped away, hand braced in the dirt as he lined up, grabbing her hip, callouses scraping at soft skin as he held her tightly, sliding in with a low groan.

Reckon we can get this worked up without you holdin' a knife to my throat though...

"Really?" The word came out a gasp, and the gasp slid into a low moan. Phaedra opened her eyes, looking up at Lindsey. Ironic, the setting... especially when there was a perfectly good blanket up in the bed of the truck. Didn't matter. Her hands tangled in his hair and pulled him toward her.

"That mean I never get to do it again?" The sentence was broken and breathy, and out of place. But hey, Phaedra was never one to ignore a jab when she could take it.

"Never givin' ya reason to." He gasped out, mouthing kisses along her jaw, nipping sharply at her earlobe, pulsepoint, the soft skin just under the line of her jaw. His hips moved slowly, firmly, each thrust driving the breath from his lungs, sending a shiver running down his spine.

Phaedra shivered, too--pretty much every time Lindsey moved. Part of her wanted to flip them over, change things... but she didn't. Those stars he'd been talking about earlier... she could see them over Lindsey's shoulder.

She smiled at him, malice gone from her face, and grabbed his face with both hands to hold it still, kissing him with what was very close to desperation.

She was beautiful when she smiled. His breath caught in his chest, smile on his face matching hers as his hips continued to thrust, a little more firmly, still just as painfully slowly. He met her kiss with just as much desperation, just as much hunger and pain.

In another life, this would not have happened. And that life was not that long ago. Lindsey smiled at her, and Phaedra felt all her carefully constructed walls fall down. She was a killer, yeah... but he wasn't really a saint, either. That didn't mean that those smiles, those emotions, couldn't be real.

She gasped and winced, but not with pain. The lyrics to some song she'd heard while they sat in the Espresso Pump floated back to her, and therefore to Lindsey... You move like water, I could drown in you.

Normally Lindsey prided himself on the fact that he could last - but fuck, not tonight. The sounds Phaedra was making, the sight of her shifting under him, was driving him crazy. Sliding a hand between their bodies, his thumb slid between her folds, rubbing at her as he thrust, harder, faster, rhythm a little irregular now as he gasped for breath.

The gasping that Lindsey was doing? Phaedra had that going on, too. And the movement of his hand just made it more. Her head went back, the top of it hitting the ground, back arching more than a little. So close to the edge. There was something slightly funny about this. Lindsey'd been alive an eye-blink compared to her. Phaedra was guessing none of that mattered.

Make that realizing.

Another second and her head was back up, mouth biting relatively gently at Lindsey's ear, wave after wave of pleasure hitting her and breaking over her. It was all she could do not to yell in his ear.

That was all it took to drive Lindsey over the edge, panting hard as his body collapsed over hers, shivering in the cool night air. He nuzzled at her neck tiredly, pressing inexact kisses to the soft curve of her jaw.

"Fuck I love this..." love you... the thought flittered through his mind, disappearing almost as soon as it was formed.

She smiled, almost completely exhausted.

She'd caught the thought, though... and wondered if Lindsey really had. It could be that ever-popular syndrome, couldn't it? Where men said everything right in the heat of some moment? But Lindsey'd always said everything right. All the time. Eyebrow raised, she ran a hand absently through his hair.

"Ves'tacha, I'm operating on the assumption that you cannot possibly form a coherent thought right now," she said, laughing. "So I'll let that slide."

She smirked. "I love this, too."

Lindsey pulled out with a grunt, rolling on his back and tugging up his jeans from the dirt-covered mess around his ankles.

"Shit. This's why I gotta blanket in the back'f the truck." He laughed, trying in vain to brush some of the dust and dirt off of his sweat-slick body. To no avail. Turning back to her, he leant down for a slow kiss, hungry and hot, though in a different way to the passionate, fiery kisses of a few minutes previously.

Phaedra smirked, watching him. It wasn't like she wasn't covered in dirt too. Her entire back was rubbed in it. She sighed, then kissed him back, actually happy.

"Yeah, well, I think I started to point that out but I was..." She raised green eyes to him, the smirk reaching them. "Distracted."

She sat, then stood, and looked down at the ruined mess of her clothes. About that blanket...

"Good job, shredder," she said.

Lindsey smirked.

"Ain't my fault you wear goddamn awkward clothes ta get off." He pointed out, standing. He reached into the truck cab, pulling out a long button-down shirt, soft with age, tossing it to her.

"Here, c'n wear that til we get back to town." He leant against the truck, arms folded as he watched her put it on, wicked flicker of heat in his eyes for a moment. He did love seein' his girl wearing his clothes.

Phaedra mock glared.

A button down shirt and jeans were 'goddamn awkward?' Was he kidding?

Maybe I'll just stop getting dressed altogether...

The thought shot out of her as she caught the shirt, hair falling into her face. As she buttoned it around her, she smirked. Smelled like him. She wasn't sure if she was attuned to that because she was a vampire or because she was attuned to him.

"Then what? You rip it off again?"

There. Buttons were done. The shirt came to mid-thigh; her other shirt was balled up under one arm, the jeans were still on. Kind of. The sleeves were far too long, and she started to roll them up, raising playful green eyes to Lindsey's.

Hey, wouldn't have me complainin', darlin'... He smirked at her, grabbing his own shirt off the ground, shaking out the worst of the dirt and tugging it on. He looked at her, eyes slowly sliding down her body, smirking.

You look good in my shirt. He walked over, hand on her waist, the other cupping her jaw, tilting it up as he kissed her sweetly.

"I bet not," she said, letting him move her head up and returning the kiss. It was soft, very not like them. Careful, Phaedra, she thought. You're actually experiencing emotion.

You look good out of yours, she shot back, leaning her head on his shoulder for a second before standing straight.

She turned, collecting her daggers from the grass, where she'd thrown them (at Lindsey) before. In another second, they were both turned end over end, very fast, a blur of blade, and back in their respective sheaths.

Phaedra shoved her hands in her back pockets, watching Lindsey. "Back to life?" she asked. "To the mouth of madness?"

To a shower? She managed a smile.

He chuckled, softly letting his fingers play through her hair as she rested her head against his shoulder. He could get used to that, far too easily. Though he had a feeling Phaedra didn't do frailty often.

"Back to madness. An' a shower would be pretty fucking perfect about now." He laughed, taking her hand and helping her up into the truck.

Yeah, he was right. Frailty and Phaedra were very rarely words that occupied the same sentence. She shook her head, laughing at his outstretched hand. But she took it. Offering her his hand still was funny. Probably would be for a while. She got in the truck.

"Alright then," she said. "Let's go."

[note to self: got up to march 31st 2007. Carr post next. Find carr intro post, too.]

Waking Up

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 00:39:43 GMT

Lindsey frowned as a loud beeping noise intruded on his dream. And damn, it was a really good dream. He reached over to his nightstand...wait, wrong height. Realising there was weight pressed against his side finally clued him in to the fact that he wasn't in a motel room. And then it all came flooding back. Phaedra.

Smiling, he switched off the alarm, kissing her forehead softly. He slid out from under her, not knowing if she was awake or asleep - not dead, yet, but he didn't want to disturb her.

Phaedra felt the kiss, but was fading. She turned her head slightly, eyes still closed, and sent Lindsey a message before "dying" for the day: See you later, ves'tacha. Take care.

She'd checked earlier- drapes were closed, do not disturb/no maid service sign was on the door... She was set.

And gone, until sunset. Saerian counted on this. He was leaning on the wall, outside her room, listening to Lindsey's alarm beep. Biding his time. Waiting for the opportune moment to open the door.

Lindsey pulled on his boxers and jeans, watching as the 'life' - such as it was - faded from Phaedra, watching her become so still. More than a little creepy, but at least he wasn't still lying in bed with her.

He tugged on his boots, shirt dangling from his fingers as he made sure he had all his possessions. He pulled the shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned for now as he put phone, cigarettes, lighter into his pockets - though not before lighting a cigarette.

Saerian didn't move. Hey, he could at least wait till the man was dressed. Apocolypse, chaos and disorder did, after all, have ettiquette. He knew what Lindsey is feeling, and not because of any demon character. Because he'd lived it. He'd been near vampires when they went down for the day. It was like no other experience there was. He silently smirked, giving Lindsey credit for still having the stones to want Phaedra.

Lindsey had seen things a lot more terrifying; and last night had been more than enough to get him through the undoubtedly eerie sight of watching your lover die. Not daring to touch Phaedra now, he looked at her one last time, before slipping out of her room, making sure the shades were drawn and the 'Do Not Disturb' sign was on the door. He turned, just about jumping out of his skin when he spotted Saerian.

Saerian raised his eyebrows at Lindsey, suggestively. He didn't move from his wall--directly across from Phaedra's room.

"I'd ask how your evening went," the demon began, a wicked grin on his face, "but then, I already know."

Lindsey took a long drag on his cigarette, eyes narrowed a little as he watched Saerian.

"You been standin' out here all night, or pokin' around in here again?" He tapped his temple. Thought I told you to stay outta there.

Saerian smirked, stepping away from the wall, hands clasped together.

"Neither," he said. "I told you I respected your wish not to have your mind read."

The smile came back, and with it, probably, the feeling that Lindsey's flesh was crawling. "That courtesy does not extend to Phaedra," he said, curtly. "Especially not while she's asleep."

He fought the urge to shudder, refusing to show - at least physically - that Saerian was getting to him.

"That was you then." He murmured, slight flash of anger quickly tamped down.

The demon laughed. "What, you thought she was just having a nightmare?" Saerian closed the distance between himself and Lindsey, looking him right in the eye.

"Phaedra's nightmares--the ones she gives herself--are pretty pathetic, Lindsey," he said. "They mostly involve being unable to save certain family members. One recurring one about a young girl going to the gas chamber in Auschwitz. She doesn't have dreams about scary nighttime things."

He grinned.

Lindsey shook his head. "She told me it was you. Jus' wanted to find out for myself." He took another long drag on his cigarette, other hand in his pocket.

"Look, I'm tired, and I'm really not in the mood for pissin' games right now, Sean. What do you want?"

Saerian laughed.

"I'm sure you are," he replied. "Tired, that is. Did she speak in tongues for you, Lindsey? Did you hear her, the way she was when she was mortal?" The bitterness was creeping in. Pathetic. Saerian hated that crap, but found he couldn't avoid it himself.

"I'm just here to ask you a few things," he said. "Then you can leave, sleep, whatever, I don't care."

Lindsey smirked a little. If he didn't know better, he'd think Saerian was jealous.

"Amongst other things. Take it you were listenin' the whole time? You hear her moan, Sean?" He pushed off the wall, stepping towards the other man - well, being - eyes dark, smirk wicked. "You hear her callin' my name as I fucked her?"

The smirk was returned.

"Actually, I wasn't listening the whole time," Saerian said, calmly. "I don't know how many times..." Still speaking, he sent Lindsey a mental jolt that should, if he calculated right, send the man slamming into the wall behind him--the equivalent of a VERY hard push. That, or it'd send him straight through it, Saerian really wasn't sure.

"... I have to tell you this, but I have respect for you. And for her, oddly." He walked over to the wall, where Lindsey was pinned now, by Saerian's will.

"I will let the way you're talking to me right now slide, because I happen to really like you." Saerian's eyes glinted red.

But if you ever speak to me in such a manner again, I will see to it that you are handed over to the Senior Partners, hit by a bus, plagued for the rest of your life by lesser demons.... need I go on?

Lindsey's breath rushed out of him as he was pinned against the wall, completely immobile. Ok, so bad idea to taunt the demon. Noted.

"I'm touched, really." He managed, smiling a little sarcastically.

Hey, you may be powerful as fuck, but you don't own me. You want her hurt, you let me do as I please.

Saerian raised his eyebrow, intrigued.

"I understand perfectly now," he said, with mock enthusiasm. "You," he began, still keeping Lindsey pinned where he was, "have a death wish. Suddenly, nailing a vampire seems like the least of your problems, in my opinion."

He sighed, reading Lindsey's thoughts.

"In no way to I intend to interfere with what you do." As long as you have some respect for what you're dealing with.

"Now, on to business... though I feel as if I already have answers to questions I wasn't going to ask..."

Fine. I'm sorry, Saerian. Lindsey looked oh-so-enthusiastic about that apology. But it was disgusting early, and he'd barely slept. He thought he earned a right to be cranky.

"Can we do this someplace else? Preferably with alcohol or coffee?"

"Oh, save it," the demon said, exasperated. He dropped control of Lindsey, letting him fall into a heap on the floor.

"Fine," he said. "Coffee. Walk."

Lindsey climbed to his feet, wincing a little as his wrist twisted awkwardly. He followed Saerian though, digging the other man's lighter out of his pocket.

"She thinks my grandfather was descended from her clan." He murmured, not feeling quite so gleeful about this as he had last night. Saerian had threatened him and pinned him to a wall; Phaedra had taken him to bed, and been nothing but gentle. It was hard to work out which side to be on.

Saerian smirked. "Maybe he was," he said, shrugging. "Gypsies covered the world like pests." He led Lindsey to the elevator, watching him, walking next to him. He wasn't stupid; he probably didn't even NEED to ask Lindsey the things he was going to. Guy was a billboard.

"And you know nothing about her, right? That's what you learned from this adventure? Tell me, Lindsey," he said, as the elevator dinged and arrived on their floor, "when did she actually scare you?"

Lindsey thought for a moment.

"When she nearly took my ear off with that knife of hers." He murmured. Her fangs near his neck had been a little worrisome, true. But it was only when he realised just how skilled she was with a blade, how deadly she could be, that he started to fear her.

Saerian nodded. "Bet you're wishing you'd read all those files on her. Every single one."

He raised an eyebrow, almost flirtatiously. "Wonder where those missing ones you were talking about got to. Wait. No, I don't." He winked, getting into the elevator.

Lindsey followed, frowning. Well, at least he knew where they had gone, he supposed. Not that it helped. Shaking his head, he leant against the elevator wall, keeping an eye on Saerian.

"So you know everything you wanted to yet?"

He tilted his head, looking at Lindsey. "No," he said.

"I can let you read all those files, but would it really help? Or would you rather have me fill in some blanks? Understand something," he said, as the elevator descended. "I don't want her to kill you."

"Obviously, or you wouldn't have gone to so much trouble." Lindsey nodded, waiting for Saerian to explain further.

"She kills you, I get nowhere. There's not a body that exists that I could hide in." The elevator dinged again, and Saerian stepped out, turning to Lindsey.

"You need to know a little more about what you're dealing with," he said. "Or she's going to know you're not what you say you are."

"So tell me." Lindsey murmured, rubbing a hand across gritty eyes, beyond tired now.

Saerian raised an eyebrow, wandering out of the hotel, Lindsey behind him.

"Fine," he said. "Not a problem." Lindsey looked like a wreck. The demon sighed, heading across the street to a little diner. The mortal needed coffee.

"I'll give you the Cliff Notes," he said, holding the door for Lindsey.

Lindsey nodded, stepping past Saerian and into the nearest booth. He slumped down in his seat, feet up on the other bench, still leaving Saerian enough room to sit down. He ordered the strongest coffee he could, along with their all-day breakfast. Damn, he was hungry.

Saerian smiled pleasantly at Lindsey, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

"You're falling for her," he said, not a hint of malice or emotion of any kind in his voice.

Lindsey shrugged.

"Maybe. Won't stop me doin' my job." He smiled up at the waitress as he brought over coffee for them both, fingers of one hand tapping idly on the table as the other lifted his cup to his lips.

Saerian nodded, wondering if that was the case.

"Obviously I couldn't just cart around bushels of Wolfram & Hart files to give to you," he said, smirking. "But believe me when I tell you that I know more than your former employers ever did."

He sighed. "What was your impression of her?"

"Strong. On the outside, at least, but she's a lot more vulnerable than she lets on." Last night had proved that much - once he'd won her trust, it hadn't taken much for Phaedra to open completely to him.

"Lonely, I think. Guess she misses her family." He could identify with that, knowing he had no home to go back to.

Saerian nodded. "About right. And don't forget dangerous as my life is long." He cracked his neck, wincing, momentarily hating being in a human body.

"But she talked to you," he said. "Lindsey, let me explain something to you: Phaedra doesn't 'open up' to people. Her closest human friend is Anita Blake. Know who that is?"

A smirk spread across Saerian's face with the question.

"The Executioner, right?" Lindsey'd heard of the woman, she'd been flagged on Wolfram and Hart's list of people to watch; though they hadn't been interested enough to risk heading in to her town to try and employ her. Things might have changed since then.

Saerian nodded in approval. "Good boy."

"Point is... the vampire you're dealing with is the closest thing to utter detachment I've ever seen. Your buddy Angel is afraid of her. The Slayer respects her. She kills people for a living."

He sighed, smiling. "Some days, I'm so proud of her I could burst."

His face immediately went blank. "She talked to you. She's taking an interest in you. You," he said, leaning slightly over the table, "are going to be in a position of extreme power when it comes to Mrs. Romani."

Saerian leaned back. "Any questions?"

Lindsey growled.

"He ain't my buddy." He pointed out, through gritted teeth as he sipped at his coffee.

"Ok, so I can wrap her around my little finger." He smirked. "Lotta girls I could say that about. So, what do you want me to do with her once I got her there." He refused to feel guilt about talking about Phaedra like this. She was a job, nothing more. Now he was away from her, he could see that.

"Hurt her," Saerian said, as if that was the most obvious answer there could be. "You're missing the point."

You're a creative guy. You think outside the box--if you didn't, your firm would've found you by now.

"If you can manage to..." he smirked, a mental image he'd caught from Phaedra while she was dreaming flashing through his head. "...strip her emotional defenses, I can do the rest."

Lindsey nodded.

"Get her to trust me then break her heart. Done that enough times." He grinned, partly because the waitress - oh, nice ass, too - had just placed his breakfast in front of him with a cheery smile and walked away.

"That's fairly inside the box, but yes, that's the idea," Saerian said. He smiled.

"I'm sure you thought of this, but be very careful not to let her drink from you. No matter how the topic comes up. She'll see right through you. Heard the expression 'en vino veritas?'"

The demon chuckled.

Lindsey nodded.

"I know. It sorta came up last night, she just said I wasn't food." He snorted. "She won't try, though. Think she guessed I'm not comfortable with it, though she didn't guess why."

Saerian nodded.

"I was pretty sure you'd know not to let her do that, but I had to be certain."

He smiled. "Right now she won't try. If you turn on her, though, I'd be very careful."

"She wanted to fight you, didn't she?" he asked, eyebrow raised, eyes full of laughter.

Lindsey chuckled.

"Once she knew I'm not quite as harmless as I look, yeah, she did." He dug into the plate of eggs, bacon, hash browns and pancakes, humming happily at the taste. Two bites and already he felt a lot more human.

Saerian smiled.

"Be careful of that, too. I know you are a swordsman, but she can take you. And if she cuts you..."

He made a gesture with his hands, like, 'oh well.'

"Anything else you want to know?"

Lindsey thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"I've had about two hours of sleep, and you expect me to be thinkin' clear enough to have questions?" He laughed, turning his attention back to his food.

Saerian smiled, raising and lowering his eyebrows.

"Alright," he said. "Get some rest. I'll find you soon.... Or find Phaedra."

He stood, leaving the booth, looking at Lindsey with something resembling contempt. "I know you won't be far from her."

Lindsey resisted the urge to (rather childishly) poke his tongue out. But only just. Instead, he just smiled sarcastically, before turning his attention back to his breakfast, pushing what remained of it around his plate a little before sitting back to finish his coffee, lost in thought.

Safe and sound with the curtains drawn

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 00:32:19 GMT

Before she heard the answer to her question, Phaedra was asleep.

She really WAS tired. Sleep had been, if anything, fitfull during the day at Xander's. Now, after the... workout... she'd had with Lindsey, sleeping was easy.

She had her head on his chest, and was lulled to unconsciousness by the steady heartbeat she heard. The drapes had been drawn, at some point. Darkness and warmth.

And Lindsey breathing.

And she was asleep.

Lindsey himself slept fitfully - it had been a long time since he'd slept more than a couple of hours at once. But he was more than happy to hold Phaedra, breathe deep and easy, enjoy the weight of a body against his for a while. Until the sun rose, at least. Darla had just slept most of the day - but she hadn't had the powers Phaedra had.

More likely she was one of the strain of vampires Lindsey'd heard tell of but never met - those that 'died' for the day, rigid and unmoving. He didn't relish lying in bed next to that.

She dreamt.

The dream was not hers. Phaedra shifted, head rolling to one side. She knew the voice in her head. It was him again.

And the dream itself hurt... this had already happened. She found herself unable to stop its progression, though. There she was, looking at herself, from what was Saerian's point of view, sitting in the park. Lying in a fire ball.

Then there was the laughter. That laughter she'd heard, lying there.

Was it good for you, baby? Saerian's voice asked. Must've been. I could hear you all the way over...

She sat up, straight, grabbing the sheet to her out of some kind of reflex, a deep, gasping breath tearing out of her throat. Phaedra drew her knees up, curling herself into a ball, and only then remembered that Lindsey was in the bed with her.

Lindsey had been lying still, eyes closed, his fingers gently combing through Phaedra's hair. His eyes opened as she stirred, worry creasing his brow as she whimpered softly.

He jumped as she sat bolt upright, rising more slowly as he carefully, gingerly, placed his hand on her back, between her shoulderblades.

"Hey..." He murmured softly. "S'alright, darlin'. Just a dream." Unpleasant, whatever it had been.

Phaedra turned her head, eyes a little too wide and a little too green. It took her a split second to even feel Lindsey's hand on her back. Tension sang down her shoulders, through her spine. She wondered if he could feel it.

Part of her knew he was right; it WAS just a dream. But Lindsey didn't know, couldn't know, that Saerian had found his way into her dreams--into her head-- while she slept. And this was not the first time.

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. "The..." God, she hated English being her second language sometimes! "Vhat is vord?"

Phaedra ran through a string of Roma words until she got to the one she wanted. "... pyromaniac. From the park. The demon. He... gets inside my dreams."

And I don't just mean I was dreaming ABOUT him, she added, not saying the words aloud.

Lindsey managed to suppress a flinch for the most part - those eyes, that gaze, more than a little unnerving. But his hand smoothed slowly up and down her back, trying to ease her body, if not her mind.

"He can't hurt you." He didn't know that, at all - but reassurance was the only thing he could offer right now.

"You're safe here." He grinned a little. "Besides, you got me to protect you."

The muscles in her back relaxed, bit by bit. She laughed when Lindsey said Saerian couldn't hurt her. But she realized he was right, at least for now. Right now Saerian wasn't here. She was awake, and he couldn't just hijack her thoughts again. Not while she was aware.

The grin on Lindsey's face was almost sweet. He wanted to protect her? She could bench press a couple of cars. She didn't actually NEED protecting. Then again, she didn't know Lindsey well enough to know what tricks he may have up his sleeve.

She smirked, unable to resist the bait. "I do, do I?"

"Mmmhmmm." He didn't need to read her mind to tell what she was thinking.

"Know I ain't as strong as you, but I got some skills." He smiled. "Toss me one of your daggers. Gently." He added hastily, not too fond of the idea of her throwing daggers at him while naked. Or fully clothed, for that matter.

Phaedra raised an eyebrow at him, untucking herself from the ball she'd gotten into and rising from the bed. She pushed hair out of her face, walking naked, calm, to the table near the window, where she'd left them. Gently, she removed one of the two 300-year-old daggers from its sheath. She'd always liked the balance; perfect for throwing. Her father had seen to that, because she'd been so good at it.

She didn't bother thinking--or telling-Lindsey how valuable these were to her. If he destroyed them, she'd break him. That simple. She figured he was smart enough to know.

"Don't move," she said, tilting her head. "Or it will cut you."

Phaedra aimed, not bringing her arm back, and gently threw the dagger so it landed on the bed, near Lindsey's leg. It wasn't the throw that would've hurt him. It was the simple fact that the blades were sharp enough to cut Lindsey if he touched them wrong.

Lindsey nodded - he'd seen them last night, knew they were old, and expertly crafted.

He also knew Phaedra would probably use them on him if he so much as scratched them. Taking a deep breath - he hadn't had to do this much - he picked up the knife. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, smiling a little as he felt the knife grow heavier, centre of balance shifting.

He opened his eyes, looking down at the sword in his hand, cocked an eyebrow at her.

Phaedra's eyebrows--both of them-- raised. She blinked, over and over, and shook her head, as if trying to knock things back into place up there. She crossed the room faster than Lindsey would see it, ending up directly next to him, next to the bed.

"How the..." her voice trailed off. He could figure out where she was going with that one.

"How?"

"That'd be tellin'." He smirked, trying not to show his shock at how fast she had moved.

"Picked it up on my travels. Come in useful a time or two." He swung the sword lazily, not able to show off properly but it was clear he knew what he was doing.

"Tends to scare the shit outta folk, turning a table knife into a broadsword when they threaten ya."

Her eyes followed his hand, watching the blade that had grown in seconds as he cut through air with it.

"I take it you know how to use that?" she said, making it a question and sitting back down on the edge of the bed. He wouldn't be able to read it in her face, but Phaedra was fighting back a smile.

Concentrating once again, Lindsey watched the blade melt inwards on itself, returning to the shape it had been before he touched it; complete with a small nick near the handle, a scratch that was years - possibly centuries old.

"I know a move or two, yeah." He murmured, turning to face her. "Told ya. No reason to fret, darlin'."

She blinked again. In his hand, Lindsey now held the dagger--exactly as it was when she threw it over to him.

"Unbelieveable," she said. "And here I thought I was bringing home a potential liability." It was her turn to smirk.

"You're really not going to tell me how you did that, are you?" She took the dagger from his hand, flipping it into hers, and very calmly threw it at the wall, blade biting into the plaster.

You know a move or two? I'll say...

Hey, I can't be to blame if you read into what I'm sayin'... He smirked, swallowing hard at the depth to which the knife was buried in the wall.

"Remind me never to piss you off..." He murmured, a little wide-eyed.

"You need a reminder?" She laughed, following his gaze to the dagger. Maybe he did, though. Phaedra didn't look like a killer, not really. She was just so used to being one. She turned her attention back to Lindsey, forgetting, for now, at least, the dream and the demon. He was getting to her. Under the skin. Attachments, she always taught herself, were bad.

Phaedra smirked. "Want to fight?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or stay in?"

"Maybe you'd noticed," he gestured to his current naked state, "But I ain't in a fighting mood." Grinning, he crawled up the bed, patting the pillow beside him.

"C'mere. I seem to remember you sayin' somethin' about missing out on kisses."

Phaedra grinned, fangs almost showing. "I think I might hate you," she said, almost laughing.

You're making me like you. You're making me act like a school girl, instead of an assassin. But she listened, turning the rest of the way around, back toward Lindsey, and lying back on the pillow he'd patted.

Tell me why that's a bad thing. He pointed out, laughing aloud as his arm slipped over her waist, drawing her close.

"Cuz from where I'm sittin', seems to be a perfectly good way to be."

"I was never a school girl," Phaedra said, as if defending herself. "Ever."

Once Lindsey's hand went around her waist, though, any fight she might have picked just dropped away. That in itself made her slightly mad. Everything had gotten so complicated in the last few hours. The feel of his hand on her bare waist sent a slight shudder though her.

"Bet you'd look cute in the uniform though." He winked, fingers teasing the curve of her waist, lips pressed to the dip where her collarbones met, warm against cool skin.

Oh, please. she thought at him, exasperated. Every guy's fantasy, wasn't that? Nevermind that Phaedra'd been around so long that no one had even THOUGHT of little plaid kilts yet. The touches and the kiss made her sigh. Interesting, someone--a human, noless--having this much power over her.

"You," she managed, breath catching a little, "are dangerous."

Hell, you look hot in just about anythin'. Lindsey purred, nipping a line along her shoulder, tongue darting out to soothe the slight sting.

"You noticed that, huh?" He chuckled softly. You got no idea, darlin'.

Phaedra smiled, closing her eyes at the nibbling. She opened them, looking at Lindsey, narrowing them for a second. And neither do you, she fired back.

She stayed where she was, in his arms, and ran a finger down his arm, stopping at the line of scar tissue between the hand and his arm.

Phaedra raised an eyebrow.

Damnit. He couldn't help but think of losing his hand, of Angel's axe slicing through skin and bone and muscle, blood dripping over his fingers as he clutched at the bloody stump, cursing the vampire with every fibre of his being.

Getting ready for work, shaving left-handed, unable to stop the way his eyes slid to the guitar case in the back of his closet, ties pre-knotted so he could slip them on one-handed.

Walking into work, being sent to medical. Waking up with a working hand. One that kept writing 'kill, kill, kill'. Breaking into the back room of that shitty little place. Finding those Wolfram and Hart considered dispensible. 'Donors'. Watching the place go up in flames.

He didn't know how much Phaedra saw, knew he must be fucking broadcasting right now. He slid away from her, sitting up on the edge of the bed with his back to her, lighting a cigarette.

Phaedra almost smirked. Lindsey slid away from her... but not before telling her everything she needed to know and slamming up some pretty strong mental shields.

"Lindsey," she said, kind of sighing the word. She was sorry, sorry that she'd made him think of it. Phaedra sat, sitting directly behind him, right against his back, and putting her head on his shoulder. I know him, she said, silently. And I hate him, too.

Eyes closed, Lindsey exhaled slowly, cigarette held loosely between his fingers.

"That so?" He murmured, turning his head a little. "What'd he do to piss you off?"

Phaedra didn't move from where she was. Lindsey could be as prickly as he wanted, but he was still naked, and still in her bed. To her, that was enough grounds for touching. She looked up when he spoke to her. "You really don't know about the Order, do you?"

She knew the answer to her own question. She sighed. "When I was human, I was a vampire hunter," she said. "I belonged to an order... the one your family has some connection to, called the Kiantje. We protected our people."

She paused, smirking a little sadly. "Gypsies."

Ah. Ok, yeah, she had reason.

"Nice work on that curse, by the way." He smirked. "Can't say I'm a fan of Angel, but from what I read of Angelus..." He shook his head. "Scourge of Europe. Coulda used him at the firm." But then, his department wouldn't exist. And he would still be happily working for the firm, ignoring that unease at the way certain issues were dealt with.

She shook her head. "I didn't curse him. I just... rounded him up, so he could be cursed."

Phaedra smirked, completely ignoring the comment about being able to 'use' Angelus. No one could. Didn't people learn anything?

"I fought him, brought him back to the camp... and that was the first time I saw any of my family in a hundred years."

I scarred him, she added, an afterthought. Just like he scarred you. And he's still afraid of me.

(Reply to this)(Parent) (Thread)

What Lindsey said and what Lindsey thought were often two different things; he'd seen the results when the firm had attempted to control Angelus. He was starting to realise just what he'd gotten himself into - and yet, somehow, he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

Phaedra still rested on his shoulder, almost able to hear Lindsey getting scared of her.

"You're afraid now," she said, making it a statement. "That's smart. Do you want to leave?"

Lindsey thought about it for a moment.

"Nah. Can't say it's sensible, but then..." He shrugged. "Since when have I done the smart thing?" He turned, fingers gently cupping her jaw, drawing small circles against soft skin.

"Lot of things scare me. I spent my time runnin' away from 'em I'd be dead of exhaustion within the week."

He was right, it probably wasn't sensible. But tough. Phaedra wasn't exactly the most sensible, either. Look at her line of work. She closed her eyes as he touched her face. "Do I fall under the 'devil you know' category, then?"

She smiled slightly, opening her eyes and looking up at him.

"Pretty much." He grinned, kissing her softly, trying to stifle a yawn as he pressed another kiss to her shoulder. He didn't want to fall asleep, it was only a couple of hours until dawn...

Phaedra shuddered a little. She really HAD missed kissing.

She smiled at him as he kissed her shoulder. "You can yawn, I won't be offended."

We did get quite the workout earlier...

Mmm, don't remind me...don't got the energy for another round just yet... He groaned quietly, eyes drifting shut as he nuzzled at her shoulder.

"You be ok if I crash here?" he murmured aloud, fingers tangling in dark hair as he kissed her again - God, that really was getting addictive. "Or would it be a better idea if I left now?"

Yet? That's promising.

She smiled after the kiss. Sleepy Lindsey was adorable. "You can stay," she said. "As long as you know what happens when the sun comes up."

Phaedra didn't really like to think about that, herself. "I'll be..." she cleared her throat. "Indisposed."

"I know." He murmured, drawing her down to lie in his arms, kissing the top of her head, his hand still tangled in her hair.

"Least I know I won't wake you up when I leave." He grinned, arms tightening a little around her.

She smiled, eyes closing. Part of Phaedra still hadn't registered exactly what she was doing. Caring for someone, even a little... that wasn't what she did. Sure, she cared for Anita... but that was different. Mutual respect, and therefore friendship. Alligance.

This? She smirked, feeling Lindsey hold her tighter. So warm. That was the thought she kept having, over and over.

Quietly, because she knew she had to, Phaedra warned him, voice barely a whisper.

"If you're staying, until I'm..." she trailed off. "When I'm sleeping, for the day, I don't have control of what I do. If you get too close, I could end up grabbing you by the throat and breaking your neck."

She didn't want to do that; she thought that at Lindsey, silently, sure the thought went without saying. "Just be careful, ves'tacha."

Lindsey nodded.

"I will be." He reached down to the floor, grabbing his jeans and fishing out his cellphone. Setting an alarm for just before sunrise - god bless technology - he tossed his phone onto the bedside table and folded her back into his arms.

He wasn't sure if he should ask to see her again, if he should come back tonight...but he already knew there was no way one night was gonna be enough, with her.

"Good," she said.

She'd never actually killed anyone in her sleep, but she knew she could do it. Didn't want this to be a first. She let Lindsey snuggle her against him, listening to his heartbeat.

She didn't want to pry, but she couldn't help it. She smirked, and laughed a little for a minute. "I'd love to see you again," she said. "And yes."

Sorry. Old habits.

Lindsey laughed.

"M'gonna have to watch what I think around you, huh?" He kissed her forehead, sighing as his eyes closed. His arms slowly loosened their grip as sleep dragged him under, face still buried in dark hair.

She could feel him falling asleep. Strange, that. Hadn't happened since she was human; tough to feel someone fall asleep if you go dead when you're tired.

Phaedra smiled. "Or I need to learn to stop doing that just because I can."

She sighed, her eyes closing. There was nothing that said she couldn't nap before the sun came up, was there?

Rest well, she said, shoulders relaxing as she got more comfortable.

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 00:20:25 GMT

Phaedra found it hard to speak while Lindsey was looking at her so intently, hands still resting on her hips. She had an idea, and she was vaguely aware, somehow, that it was not her idea. That it had been done before.

It was strange. It seemed like the only option, for what to do next.

She smiled, reaching out her hand and pushing a stray piece of hair out of Lindsey's face.

Hope you feel up to chasing me now, she thought, directing the sentiment at him. Cause if you catch me, I'll let you do anything you want.

Phaedra knew how dangerous this was. She'd never invited a human in, at least not one that wasn't a hitman. And that's what she was going to do--lead him right to her daytime resting place. Let him in. But she trusted him. The symbol, his comment about his grandfather... Lindsey could be her last link to her humanity. She was not discounting the fact that everything about him made her want him, either.

"Ready?" she asked, running the hand down his chest and across the waist of his pants. Calmly, and with catlike grace, Phaedra stalked away. Walking. Keeping him in sight. Then, at the gates of the park, she broke into a run, laughing a little.

C'mon, Lindsey. Come and get me. It's possible Phaedra didn't realize the implication of what she was doing. But she knew she didn't care. She bounded down a block, turned, turned again, and stopped, leaning on the wall of a building, waiting for him to catch up.

And who was he to refuse an invitation like that? Chuckling, Lindsey stalked after Phaedra, slowly at first. He broke into a run when she did, not bothering to hurry - she wasn't trying to lose him, after all.

And he definately wanted to save his energy for when he caught her. Grinning, he jogged after her, arching an eyebrow as she stopped, slowing down as he came closer.

Her eyebrow was raised, hands crossed over her chest, one leg out, one high-heeled black boot touching the wall.

She saw Lindsey approaching, saw him slow down, smiling. The smile was making her anxious in a way she had not been for hundreds of years.

Not going to be THAT easy, she said when he was about 10 feet away, breaking into a run again. Dark hair flew out behind her, and she took a quick left. High heels clicked on pavement. Any mortal woman would've fallen and broken her neck, but Phaedra ran like the shoes were sneakers. Getting close. A few more blocks...

Minx... Lindsey tossed at her, laughing as he broke into a run, following her at a distance. If he pushed himself, he could probably catch up with her right now; but that would be no fun. Besides which, he had a feeling she wasn't running anywhere near her top speed.

Your place much further? I ain't in the shape I used to be. Dry humour obvious even when it was just his voice in her head, Lindsey chuckled softly to himself. He wasn't out of breath, nowhere near - but running right now wasn't the most comfortable of activities.

Lindsey was right; she was taking it easy. If she ran full-speed, he wouldn't be abole to see her. She'd be a blur of black and white. She caught the thought, smiled, and laughed.

Oh, come on, cowboy. Give yourself some credit. Phaedra took a right, almost knocking over a woman with an armful of grocery bags, and turned into the hotel lobby.

Fifth floor. I'll leave the door open. Phaedra figured that Lindsey'd round the corner in time to see the revolving door shut, or her go through it. He had a law degree. He could figure out the rest. She smirked, completely unaware how dangerous this situation could get. She got into the elevator, pressed five, and waited.

Thankfully, Lindsey was just fast enough to see the door turn. And even if he hadn't, he'd guessed by now she was staying in a hotel - she sure as hell wasn't local. They didn't make girls like that in Sunnydale.

He slowed to a jog as he reached the hotel, nodding to the desk clerk as he sauntered across to the elevators. Two, thankfully. Watching one head up to the fifth floor, he stepped into the other, humming quietly to himself. This was turning out a helluva lot better than he'd hoped.

Reaching the fifth floor, he stepped out, looking both ways and frowning.

Left or right?

Phaedra had left the door slightly open. 531. Left of the elevators. She'd taken off her jacket and hung it; now she stood, still all in black, facing the window, looking out on Sunnydale. Something of what she was about to do was sinking in. A knot formed in her stomach.

She smirked, hearing Lindsey's thought. Left. The town looked quiet. Streetlights on, some traffic on the main roads, but that was it. The knot got bigger.

Nodding, Lindsey didn't bother to answer, even in his head. He strode down the hallway, taking a moment to smooth his hair, useless though that was. Settling for brushing stray hairs out of his eyes, he gently pushed open the door, heart pounding with nerves and the impromptu chase through Sunnydale.

He walked in, closing the door behind him, seeing her outline against the window. Slowly he walked across the room, stepping up behind her, and wrapping his arms around her waist. Dipping his head he gently nuzzled at her neck, nosing hair out of the way to press a soft kiss to the underside of her jaw.

She heard him.

First she heard the footsteps, even though they were slow and even. Then she heard his breath- that was ragged, wracked with nerves. Then the heart, and the blood.

Erratic. Rushing. Phaedra didn't turn around. Wouldn't that be insulting his intelligence, after all?

Arms wound around her waist, and Phaedra placed her hands on them. Lindsey was so warm... she thought for a split second she probably should've fed. She closed her eyes, letting him nuzzle her, and felt a kiss dangerously close to her neck.

Part of her figured that next he'd draw blood. That was how that part work, right? Always had? She turned her head toward his face, catching his lower lip in her mouth, and reached back, grabbing a handful of his hair, kissing him slowly, but with the same devouring as in the park.

Worth the chase?

Oh yeah. Lindsey practically purred, stepping closer, his hands sliding down to her thighs, lifting her feet off the ground as he pressed her against the window, hoping to God it didn't break. Realising that was probably a little too risky, he moved left a little, backing her against the wall, her body pinned between ugly-as-hell wallpaper and his chest, her legs wrapped around his waist.

Her back was pressed to the wall. Lindsey'd lifted her, forcing her legs around his waist so she didn't fall, not that she was complaining. She pulled a little on his hair, still kissing him, hands around his neck, holding herself up.

Phaedra was not used to be lifted like a doll. She was used to kicking people in the jaw, and putting guns to their heads, and daggers to their throats. Daggers... Oh, shit. She was still wearing them. And wrapped around someone she didn't actually want to stab. Rarity.

I don't want to turn you into a pin cushion, she thought at him, finding herself unable to stop kissing him long enough to talk.

Why, that the normal end to an evenin' with you? Lindsey half-joked, though he had a feeling that the answer was going to be 'yes'. He slowly let her slide out of his arms, her feet touching the ground, their bodies still pressed against one another.

Could solve that problem by removin' some of this... His fingers drifted to the zip at her neck, teasing at the metal tab before falling away. He didn't want to push her, really he didn't...but fuck he wanted her.

Phaedra gave Lindsey a very serious look, momentarily, for the little mental jab. He was right; it WAS the normal end to her evenings. He may not have realized what he was standing in front of, what he was kissing. She felt her feet hit the floor, and tossed her head back, putting dark hair behind her shoulders. Lindsey touched her zipper, then dropped it. She smirked. Patience. You rush this I kill you.

Phaedra really wasn't kidding. Eyes fixed on his, her hands moved to her waist, undoing the belt there that held the daggers. She couldn't just drop them on the floor--they were too important to her-- so she squeezed past Lindsey, folding the belt, putting it on the table next to them.

She turned around, eyebrow arched, and threw Lindsey down onto the bed.

Lindsey lifted his hands in a 'hey, I'm innocent' pose, watching as she slowly stripped off the daggers around her waist, breath catching as she brushed past him. And then, suddenly, he was flat on his back, looking up at a badly-plastered ceiling. He cocked an eyebrow at her, leaning up on his elbows.

Now who's rushin' things?

Not rushing anything, she shot back, looking him over from the foot of the bed. Phaedra let her face go carefully blank, then she knelt on the edge of the bed. She leaned forward, hair falling forward too, and almost crawled until she was straddling Lindsey. Face still blank, she leaned down, hair brushing his neck, stopping right before his mouth. "No rush," she said.

From first meeting to bedroom in a couple'f hours. That's gotta be a record. He murmured, teasing grin on his face as he tilted his head up a little, letting her initiate the kiss, somehow knowing that was how this was going. There was no way he was in charge right now. And he kind of liked it - well, he didn't have the hots for women ten times stronger than him so he could push 'em around, did he?

Phaedra smirked a little. Definitely a record for her, she of the lack of human (or vampire) physical contact of any sort. She gently opened her mouth and kissed him, fangs playing over the softness of his bottom lip, tongue pushing at his. It occurred to Phaedra that she didn't really know what to do, here. She had the basics, but she needed a little help.

She pulled back, looking Lindsey in the eye. Not how you want this, is it? A playful, almost evil glint crept into her eyes. This, though Lindsey didn't know it, was the look at made Saerian weakest.

It was doing a pretty damn good job on Lindsey too. He smirked, shaking his head a little.

Not quite, darlin'. He leant up on his elbows, one hand sliding into dark hair as he held her close, crushing his lips against hers. He flipped them over surprisingly easily, pinning her against the bed with the weight of his body against hers.

I was thinking somethin' more along the lines of this... He slowly unfastened her corset, sliding it out from underneath her once it was completely undone.

Phaedra was engulfed in the kiss. When Lindsey flipped her over, she laughed against his mouth. He'd pinned her, and sat up. He'd undone the corset, leaving the black shirt underneath. Phaedra raised an eyebrow, almost daring him. She moved her hands to his shirt and started unbuttoning.

Deft fingers moved to the zip on her leather shirt, toying with it for a moment before slowly pulling it down, trying not to be distracted by the brush of cool fingers against his chest, buttons slowly undone as Phaedra rid him of his shirt.

He reluctantly pulled his hands away long enough to shrug his shirt off his shoulders, dropping it to the ground.

The knot was back. The zipper wasn't undone; Lindsey'd paused to shrug off his shirt.

She looked up at him. His upper body was riddled with tattoos, symbols of all sorts. The largest was the one she'd touched in the park, and it ran down the front of his chest and up to his collar bone. For a split second, Phaedra wondered what they were all for, what they meant. There'd be time to ask later.

She reached out one hand and ran it up his stomach, very slowly. So warm. Going to finish what you started?

"I ain't anywhere near finished, sweetheart." Lindsey purred, speaking aloud for the first time since he'd entered her hotel room. He shivered a little as her hand ran up his chest, reaching out to tug down her zip, push her shirt open.

Guitar-calloused fingers ran over smooth, cool skin, marvelling at the utter perfection, the feel of it almost like marble under his fingertips. "Jesus, you're beautiful." He murmured, dipping his head to kiss the hollow of her throat, lips trailing down, between her breasts, nuzzling softly at her stomach.

She even liked the sound of his voice. Funny. Phaedra never really paid attention to things like that, not in humans, anyway.

Warm hands ran over her upper body, and Phaedra sighed, back arching slightly. He said she was beautiful; she smiled, eyes closed. "Not so bad yourself," she said

His lips touched her throat and Phaedra moaned, pulling at his hair again. Lindsey wouldn't see it, but the very fact that he'd done that was causing her to bare her teeth. He moved lower, mouth on her stomach. Come back here, she said, pulling him back up, so that he was lying on top of her, skin on bare skin.

The knot got bigger. Phaedra began kissing his neck.

Lindsey stiffened, almost unnoticeably, turning his head to catch Phaedra's lips with his.

No offense darlin', but m'not too keen on your mouth near my neck... He gently eased her out of her shirt, tossing the leather to the floor as he slid down the bed, nimbly undoing the buckles and laces on her boots, tugging them off and letting them fall wherever.

One thud, then another, and her boots were gone.

She raised an eyebrow, up on an elbow. "If I wanted to bite you, it'd have happened already," she said. You're not food.

It was like she had no idea she was topless. Phaedra was totally un-selfconscious. She watched him, pale eyes scanning over him. She thought, quickly, in Lindsey's direction, that he should probably take off his shoes, too... that she had other things she wanted to take off of him.

He smirked. "Patience. And you can't blame a guy for bein' nervous, now." He turned, sitting down on the foot of the bed, toeing off beat-up boots, pulling off his socks and tossing them to the floor. Undoing his belt, he slid up the bed, one hand moving to cup her jaw as he kissed her again, tenderly.

She wanted to be irritated, she really did. But the smirk and the kiss made any of that go away.

How is it that you know EXACTLY what you're doing with me?

Eyes closed, kissing Lindsey hungrily, she grabbed the waist of his pants and pulled him until he was touching her. Belt was gone; that was a step.

Next came the button, and the zipper. Phaedra slid her fingers between Lindsey's flesh and the waist of his pants, running them back and forth, teasing.

A gentleman never kisses and tells. The smirk was practically audible in his voice, occupied though his lips were. He groaned softly into the kiss, hips hitching forward a moment as she teased him. His hand slid down from her neck, thumb brushing over the curve of her breast, teasing just as she was, only a little higher.

Phaedra laughed again, for a split second, before Lindsey groaned and she felt blood rush through her body. Interesting. She didn't know her blood COULD rush. But it had. Maybe this had something to do with who her maker had been, what he was...and any train of thought she had was gone, Lindsey's hand whispering along her breast. She moaned a little, undoing the button and zipper on his pants, and pulling them down as far as she could.

We're still far too dressed.

No disagreements here... His voice was rough with lust, even in his mind, fingers gently undoing the zip on her pants, sliding inside.

No underwear? He teased, smirking as he bit gently at her lower lip, hands gently peeling leather down her thighs, eager to see her naked.

Phaedra gasped into the kiss, legs trembling under Lindsey's touch. You expected there would be?

As if to defend herself, and not lose the war they were fighting, Phaedra slid her hand inside Lindsey's boxers, running it over the place where his legs met his body, wanting him to shudder.

I never predict a lady's undergarments. Too many surprises. He chuckled, the sound melting into a low groan as he shifted forward, arching against her, the shudder that Phaedra had wanted running down his spine.

Wriggling a little, he shed his jeans, tugging at her leather pants until they too were off. His hand ran down her side, over the curve of her hip, down to her knee. There he paused, fingers circling on the inside of her knee, slowly sliding up her inner thigh, always teasing.

"Cute," she said aloud, in response to his thought. Midwestern gentleman, right?

She smiled at his reaction, and shivered as he ran his hand over her side. Phaedra blinked, eyes wide, and looked right into Lindsey's eyes. Her mouth was slightly open, and she was listening to his heart beating--so loud. She bit gently at her lower lip, pulling off his boxers. They were in the way, anyway. And Phaedra realized she pretty much wanted to touch every inch of him.

And she was more than welcome to. He was doing the same, after all. Hands ran gently over cool skin, learning every curve, every inch of her flesh. Well, almost. He was carefully, infuriatingly, skipping over her center, fingertips dancing across her belly, down her thighs, always avoiding that spot.

She smiled at him. He was trying to learn her-- how she felt, how she was shaped. He didn't even have to touch her where it mattered; Lindsey could do this all night and Phaedra'd be more than happy. Just the same, running her hands over him, looking up at him, she wondered how long this dance was going to go on-- and which of them would end it. Probably her, she figured. Always was a sucker for a guy with manners.

She let her fingers graze across him, across the part of him she'd been avoiding, as if it were an accident. Phaedra let one eyebrow raise, very quickly, then drop. Anyone ever tell you not to taunt a vampire?

And you were the one who said you didn't want to rush... He pointed out, his own eyebrow arching in answer as his breath caught, leaning close to kiss her fiercely.

Since you started it, then... His hand trailed up her inner thigh, fingers gently parting her legs, groaning as he gently stroked her, Phaedra's thigh pressing in places that really didn't need any help right now.

This isn't rushing. This is a lifetime. She returned the fierceness of the kiss, and moaned into his mouth when he touched her. Phaedra kept running her hands over him, slowly, teasingly, marvelling at how the flesh here was so much smoother than everywhere else. He was still touching her. She put her head back, not realizing she was baring her neck.

He laughed softly, breaking the kiss to gasp softly, hips moving into her hand. Daring, his fingers slipped inside her, nose buried behind her ear as he kissed her neck, nipping gently. Not enough to really hurt, or break skin, but enough to be felt.

Phaedra almost yelled, but the sound that escaped her throat was more of a moan than anything else.

The combination of things Lindsey was doing-- moving his fingers inside her, biting her neck (biting the neck of a vampire? good for him, she thought)-- was enough to send her over the edge. She was teetering on it, and with every move he made, she was nudged closer to falling.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Phaedra realized that if he wanted to, Lindsey could kill her. Right now. That in itself was a turn-on. She sighed, murmuring in Roma, hips moving against him. Then, she grabbed his hair one more time, putting her head back up so she could look in his eyes.

"Please," she said, aloud.

"You sure?" He murmured roughly, checking, just in case. May kill me if ya say no, though... He added, fingers slipping out of her even as he spoke. He shifted, until her thighs cradled his hips, so close...and yet still he teased.

Pinning her arms against the bed with hands around her wrists, he rocked his hips forward, then slipped away, just as she arched up to meet him.

She nodded, face moving against his.

He had her wrists. Amusing. She could break free with a little more than a thought. But she was enjoying herself. Enjoying this.

He moved toward her, then away, and Phaedra's eyes took on the evil glint from before, the cold, hard, cast. She did not like to be played with. She'd asked nicely, hadn't she?

"Dosta*," she said, almost spitting the word. [ 'enough'.]

Phaedra glared at him, seriously verging on angry, and in another second pushed her wrists free, flipping Lindsey roughly, laying him down where she'd been lying. The difference was this: when she put her hand on his chest to pin him, he was not going to be able to get up.

Same look in her eyes, Phaedra watching him, stuck there. Poor little fly.

She smirked, leaving her hand where it was, leaving him pinned, and ran her face along his torso, grazing him below the waist as well. She bit at his nipple (using only her human teeth), and straddled him.

Now you say please, she told him, pinning him there still.

Lindsey chuckled, even as she practically snarled at him, flipping him over until she was pinning him to the bed. He writhed, not really trying to escape - and knowing he couldn't even if he wanted to. But then, she didn't really want to kill him. Groaning a little as Phaedra straddled him, his hands sliding up her thighs.

"Pretty please?" He murmured, smirking up at her.

She was calculating. Phaedra let her eyes stay dark, frightening, and rolled her hips, just once, looking down at him.

Then the light was back, the flirtatiousness. His hands running up her legs had probably brought that back.

"Since you asked so nicely," she said, smirking, raising herself up above him. Her eyes fixed on his-- she was unconsciously inspecting the different flecks of blue as her hand positioned him.

She slid herself into place, closing her eyes, gasping. "You get what you ask for," she said, voice little more than breath.

"Fuck..." Lindsey muttered with feeling, head falling back against the pillows as his hips snapped up, burying him deep within Phaedra. His hands covered slender hips, making him marvel at the contrast, tanned thumbs pressing circles into white flesh.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers, caught in her gaze as she moved, his hands barely guiding her.

She was dimly aware that the only reason she was even capable of this, the only reason things worked the way they were supposed to, was because of the demon in blood.

Didn't matter. Lindsey's hands on her hips mattered. The movement of both of them mattered. The look in his eyes mattered. It seemed like with every roll of her hips, Lindsey was (literally and metaphorically) deeper inside her. She didn't close her eyes, just watched him. A moment later, her head was back, a sharp moan escaping her lips.

And every time Lindsey thought Phaedra couldn't look more breathtaking, she outdid herself. He closed his eyes for a moment, gritting his teeth.

You keep moanin' and lookin' like that and this is gonna be over too damn quick... He half-complained, nails scraping gently across her hipbones as he clutched at her, hips snapping up into her.

Not going to apologize.

Besides, she thought, the view from where she was was pretty damn good, too. Lindsey's eyes were shut, his body working in order to work hers. The simple fact that his hands were on her bare hips was driving her damn near insane.

Every thrust still felt deeper; he was right. It was going to end too quick... if it kept up like this.

Phaedra stopped moving, got up and laid down next to him. "Switch," she said, slightly out of breath.

Lindsey nearly whimpered as she stopped moving, eyes snapping open as her weight left his thighs. He leant up on his elbows, looking at her for a moment, before sliding between her thighs, supporting his weight on his arm.

Leaning down, he kissed her hard as he slid into her, groaning and shuddering at the feel of her around him.

Phaedra squeaked. The combination of Lindsey sliding into her and the force of his kiss got that noise out of her. She wrapped herself around him, arms and legs, and as he moved ran her nails down his back--maybe a little too hard. She opened her eyes for just a second, to look at Lindsey, and found him completely abandoned to her.

Lindsey hissed, Phaedra's nails just the right side of painful as they raked down his back, making him arch and shudder. His eyes were closed, lips parted as he gasped for breath, sweat beading at his hairline, the base of his spine as he thrust into her, harder, faster.

Phaedra's back arched too, and she stifled a yell, instead nibbling at Lindsey's ear. Her eyes squeezed shut, and when they opened, they were a fiercer green than normal.

Something inside of her was going to break, and soon.

"Lindsey," she said, almost a gasp, into his ear. She wasn't actually addressing him, more like praising him.

"Yeah..." It wasn't really a response, more just a gasp that became a word, Lindsey's thrusts a little irregular now, breath coming in harsh pants against her shoulder, shivers running through him.

"Fuck, Phaedra...gonna..." That was all the warning he could give her, practically snarling as the ceiling as his head fell back, spine arched as he thrust into her almost brutally hard, spilling inside her.

She felt him go, and was close enough herself that just seeing Lindsey feel that much pleasure sent her, too. Right on his heels. He was crushed against her, as deep as he could go, head back. One loud moan escaped her throat, and everything went... there wasn't a word.

She felt every single nerve ending. Everywhere Lindsey was touching her, everything, made her shudder. She squeezed her eyes shut, pulling him against her, kissing him, mouth pushing his open, pulling at his lips.

Gasping, he poured himself into the kiss, pressing against her from head to toe, his body feeling utterly limp and sated. His arms wrapped around her as she shuddered, purring his approval into the kiss. God, women were beautiful when they fell apart. He wondered what it was that made men look utterly ridiculous in the middle of climax, and yet women never looked anything other than perfect.

Holding her, still, he gentled the kiss, pulling back to look down at her as his thumbs smoothed her hair back from her face.

Phaedra didn't mean to, but given the mental state of them both, she ended up skimming Lindsey's thoughts. And the knot came back. The kiss was gentler now, and Lindsey let go, moving her hair, looking at her.

Phaedra smiled, eyes a little glazed. "Hi," she said, looking up at him, eyebrows raised. It was probably the softest she'd looked in the last century, at least. The most human.

Lindsey chuckled softly.

"Hi." He hissed softly as he pulled out of her, rolling onto his back beside her. A moment to catch his breath, and he was reaching for his shirt, digging out cigarettes and the lighter. He lay back beside her, unwilling to leave just yet, but feeling suddenly awkward. Flirting was easy when there was sexual tension in the air...wasn't really much of that left now.

He didn't regret it one bit, though. Damn, he hadn't felt that good in far too long. Balancing an ashtray on his chest, he lit up a cigarette, exhaling slowly, watching the smoke curl above his head.

Phaedra squeaked again as he withdrew. Lindsey moved around, grabbing cigarettes, and she just propped herself up on one elbow, eyes following him until he laid back down. This, she figured, was the difference between humans and vampires. She did not feel in the least awkward; despite the fact that what had just happened was VERY outside the norm for her. She watched him light a cigarette, vastly aware suddenly of their differences. Part of her wanted to caution him not to burn his naked self.

Instead, she raised an eyebrow. "You," she started, voice sounding alien in her throat, "move very well," she said, immediately aware that she sounded like the girl she was when she was turned.

Lindsey chuckled roughly.

"Thank you kindly." He murmured, picking up her hand, kissing the back of it gently, lacing his fingers with hers. "So do you. Can't say I expected the night to end this way - but it definately ain't a bad thing."

She smiled slightly when he took her hand, and it got a little bigger when he kept her hand and held it.

"No," she said. "It isn't."

She looked at him, at the piercing blue eyes, the muscles moving under his skin, the tattoos... and the soft mouth, and shuddered one more time.

"Good thing you happened by," she said. "I might not even be sitting here, otherwise."

"Good timin', I guess." He tilted his head to look at her, biting a little at his lip as his gaze slid up and down her body, quiet groan of not-quite-frustration.

"You are temptation personified, darlin'." He murmured, leaning across to kiss her slowly. And you're gonna be bad for me, I can tell...

She smiled, receiving the kiss. I do what I can.

Pulling away, she looked at him again. "I missed kissing," she said, realizing how ridiculous that sounded as soon as she'd said it, and laughing. He'd gotten her to smile and laugh more in one night than she had in the last few decades.

"You've been goin' without kisses? Now that's just a crime..." He grinned, stubbing out the remains of his cigarette. He didn't know how that moment of awkwardness had dissolved into teasing, into something almost domestic, but right now he couldn't bring himself to care.

Placing the ashtray aside, his hand slid to the back of her neck, thumb pressing gently against her jaw. "C'mere and let's see if we can catch you up some." He murmured, pressing his lips to hers, soft and then fierce, passionate and then gentle.

She started to say something about 'yeah, professional killer, vampire...' and then Lindsey was grinning, and the words got lost. Then he was kissing her, and she was gone. Kissing him back. She'd already grown fond of his lips, the texture of them.

This is going to complicate the hell out of things, she thought at him.

Preachin' to the choir...not exactly what I came lookin' for. He pressed closer, cradling her in his arms, addicted to the taste of her after only a few short hours. Soft fingers tangled in her hair, strong arms wrapping around a body that seemed so fragile, but that he knew for a fact could rip him in two without blinking.

He was holding her. If Phaedra had a heartbeat, it'd have stopped. She was totally shocked. She closed her eyes, wondering if she could allow herself this, if she could be with a human, and not get him killed.

"What was that?" she said, the 'w' becoming a 'v', accent rampaging all over the sentence. "That you were looking for?"

"I don't know." He answered honestly, looking at her. "Runnin' away from a lot things - lot of people - and somethin' drew me here. Still have to work out what that is." He brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, smiling.

"Can't say I'm in a hurry to find it, though."

She was searching his eyes as he spoke. Such honesty in them right now. She shut her eyes when he moved her hair, and smiled at his last comment.

"Does it..." she laughed, one short sound. "Does it in any way, what do they say? 'freak you out' that you just had sex with a vampire?" Since this was the first human she'd slept with, she wanted to know.

He shrugged.

"The first time I slept with a vampire, it was a woman I'd known while she was human." And he really didn't want to go into that story. "So yeah, that was...kinda wierd. But other than her...no." Not that there's been any other vampires...that'd be sort'f creepy. He reassured her - and didn't know why he felt the need to.

She dropped it, amused. He was trying to justify past actions to her. If, she thought, she tried to justify even a quarter of the things she'd done in her life...She reached out, resting a hand on his chest, tracing again the largest tattoo. Phaedra did that for a solid five minutes, then looked up.

"They mean something, right? Things like this always mean something."

Lindsey just watched her, silently, shivering a little when her fingers brushed over more sensitive spots, following her hands with his eyes. He nodded slowly, looking at the tattoos as if seeing them for the first time.

"Mystic symbols. Make me invisible to any surveillance, electronic or magical. Pretty handy if you're tryin' to stay hidden."

"Useful," she said. "Hidden from what?" Her eyebrow arched. It might be a question that'd set him off, but she was curious. Phaedra was good at curious.

"No one. Everyone." He waved a hand, closing his eyes as he lay back against the pillows. "People I used to work for don't take kindly to ya leavin'." He murmured, one hand petting her hair distractedly, fingercombing it softly.

She nodded. She understood. Not like her job was the most employee-friendly, was it? She hadn't meant to bother him. Phaedra furrowed her eyebrows, leaning back on Lindsey. She actually felt tired. That alone got a laugh, another short one.

"You tired me out," she said. "I'm supposed to have preternatural strength, and you made me tired." She looked at him, smiling playfully. "Damn it."

"Hey, you gonna make my ego even bigger'n it already is." He laughed, opening one eye to look at her.

"Curtains are thick enough to keep the sun out, right?" At her nod, he smiled. "So sleep a while. God knows I'm not gonna be any good to ya for the next few hours or so."

She nodded. They were. That'd been the reason for her choice of hotel, really.

She wondered if he'd seen a vampire sleep. Ever. But then, tired as she was, she'd forgotten it wouldn't be the daytime sleep-- the kind where her body really did die, where she could kill him in her sleep and not realize, where any sudden movement near her resulted her grabbing the intruder to crush them.

"Why?" she asked, voice getting heavy with sleep. "I made you tired, too?"

Her eyes were closing. So comfortable, she thought. I don't deserve this.

[Continued here]

Old habits die hard.

Mon, 07 Jan 2008 23:58:37 GMT

Phaedra watched a little girl and boy playing, saw the little girl trip and fall, and the boy walk away.

She had time to gasp as she saw the little boy walking back to his fallen playmate. And before she had finished a thought, she realized the boy wasn’t alone. He walked, freckled face smiling, hand in hand with a good looking man she recognized.

Phaedra took a step forward. The man smiled slowly, never taking his eyes from hers. His eyes were light brown, laughing silently. He kept his grip on the boy, who by now was looking with concern at his sister.

She was his sister. That easy, from a child. Like catching a ball to read them. The boy started forward, but the man gripped harder, working a squeak out of the child.

“I’ll count to ten,” Phaedra said, eyebrow raising, one had reaching instinctively for a dagger. The tableaux did not change, though now the little girl was standing, confused, and looking back and forth between her brother, the man, and her.

“Jek,” she began. The man’s eyes glinted with something that felt like anticipation. Or foreplay. “Dui. Trin.”

The dagger was out of its sheath now. The street around the four of them had quieted, emptied, as if time had stopped. And what if it had? Phaedra had no idea what the creature standing before me, so handsome and oh so human looking, was capable of.

“Schtar. Panj. Tschov...”

The little boy squirmed. The man smiled. In Phaedra's mind she was already aiming the dagger at his neck, the jugular, though the movement, when it came, would be fast and fluid.

The man tilted his head, letting go of the boy’s hand. The boy ran to his sister, eyes wide and terrified, and both of them hurried away. The man waved goodbye as they ran, opening and closing his hand in deliberate, exaggerated movements.

He turned his eyes back to Phaedra. She hadn’t moved— she was still tensed, ready to wound him. The fact remained that she did not know how to kill him. She hated that.

“Let me save you the trouble,” he said. The voice was low and clear, with a smoothness to it that suggested Ireland.

“Efta,” he said.

Phaedra blinked. Her mouth opened. She felt something inside her drop.

He kept counting. “Otor. Enija. Deque.”

Phaedra was gaping, and knew it, but couldn’t stop. The man laughed, and the sound made her skin feel liquid. Something about his physical presence was... wrong. Something didn’t fit.

“Oh, it’s been a while, Phaedra, but I remember,” he said, winking at her. The five foot space between them was dead air. She knew that air should’ve been like fire. She couldn’t speak. Had he really just spoken to her in Roma? She licked her lower lip and found her voice.

“You used those children. To trap me.”

He nodded, face suddenly grave. “As you might figure,” he said, the voice now lilting, sweet, “we have a great deal to talk about, you and I.”

Phaedra didn’t move. No. Not just that. She didn't think she COULD move. There was something wrong with that voice... The flirtatious glint was back, faster than it had gone. “Don’t make me beg. Let’s get out of here.”

He smirked, and the street around them was alive again. A woman pushed passed Phaedra, talking loudly on a cell phone the vampire couldn’t see. Phaedra could hear the cars again, hear cabbies yelling at each other, hear a siren. She wasn’t sure what he had done to give them that quiet, but now it was undone.

He extended a hand to her. The look she gave him could’ve peeled the flesh off of his bones.

“No tricks,” he whispered. Phaedra didn’t move.

“You think I’ll believe you?”

He laughed again. She wanted to cringe, but something about that laugh was caressing her, inside and out. Phaedra wasn’t sure she wanted it to stop.

“No,” he said. “You’re not stupid.” With that, he started to walk away, slowly, with a stride that said he knew she’d follow.

Phaedra watched him moving away, disliking the situation more with every swaggering step he took. She didn’t know enough yet to be able to kill him. She until he was two blocks away before she moved, and then blurred past people walking near him, falling into step beside him. The dagger was still in her hand. He didn’t look at her, but he gave a short laugh.

“There,” he said, giving a fast nod of his head. There was a small park set into the city block, surrounded by black iron fencing and riddled with street lights and benches. Trees hung dark like a canopy over paved walkways.

Phaedra didn’t say anything. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong (aside from the fact that she was walking next to a demon.)She jumped over the locked, wrought iron gate and perched up on the back of a bench, balancing like a gargoyle statue. Phaedra could hear a water fountain, flowing like a metronome behind the night time city noises.

He’d jumped the gate, too, and stood across from her, those eyes still laughing at a joke she'd never hear. She took a minute to look at him, really look at him. She wanted to see if she could find the monstrous old man he had been when she first knew him in that young man. The brown hair was messy, but that stylish kind of messy, as if it’s been done on purpose. He wore jeans, and a plain blue button down shirt. Light blue. The color Phaedra missed most. Sky. A light-looking zip-up sweater over it.

The face was causing a problem for her. Nothing like him deserved that face. It was too smooth, too young, too pretty. It held no malice—but the eyes did. They looked almost out of place, as if they had nothing to do with the features positioned around them. She was glaring.

He made a “tsk” noise at her. “That’s no way to start this conversation, baby,” he said, moving to sit down.

“Don’t call me that,” Phaedra snapped, not moving her eyes from him. She only had so much patience for psychopaths. He was using it up. “Who are you?”

He looked amused. “You think I’m going to tell you that?”

Her voice was getting rougher by the minute, as if she were hoping to hunt him with it, bite him with it. Here was hoping. “No.”

She pushed at his mind, not sure how well the jolt would work on something like him. But something gave, moved under the prodding. Phaedra knew his name. It was as if he’d said it. But somehow, she knew that this wasn’t like Rumpletstiltskin. If she said his name, he wasn’t going to lose any of his power. He just preferred to keep me in the dark.

“Saerian,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that.” His face softened slightly. “Say it again.”

As if he’d caught himself, he let the attitude creep back in, work itself over his face, his body. He reached into his pocket, removing a pack of cigarettes and a book of matches.

“What do you mean?”

He looked up at her, lighting the flame and pulling on it with practiced ease. Phaedra could swear his eyes went red, for a heartbeat.

“You don’t remember,” he said, exhaling a light cloud of twisted smoke. He winked at me. “And you’ll be lucky if you remember this little encounter.”

The feeling that her skin could slide off, that time had stopped, returned. Phaedra didn’t want to, but she slid down onto the bench until she was seated next to the demon. Touching him. Saerian took her hand, and while all Phaedra wanted to do was drive a dagger through his palm, she let him. He took another drag.

“Phaedra, I can feel you fighting me,” he said, taking his pointer finger and tapping it on her temple. “Stop it.”

It was like someone had taken her will- all of it- or smothered it, pushed it down so deep inside her that the act was at once intimate and the worst violation Phaedra could imagine. She wanted to flinch, but couldn’t.

Phaedra couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t be. Not unless Saerian asked her to.

He smiled at her, letting go of her hand, looking her over, head to toe, fangs to daggers. “You’re more beautiful than I remember,” he said. Something in his eyes went cold. “And my memory is infinite.”

Phaedra was holding his gaze, but she wasn't sure how. When she looked into those laughing eyes, she saw red. She saw torment, and death. She saw fire. And she saw herself.

“It’s not Hell,” he said, and Phaedra knew he was reading her mind. “It’s worse than that. And bigger.” Saerian finished his cigarette, throwing it away toward the sound of the fountain. He kept his eyes on Phaedra, and for a second she found herself again.

She moved fast, and luckily, vampires move faster than demons can see. She’d unsheathed the dagger at her right hip and sliced open the right side of his face before he could blink.

The blood came quick and free. It looked and smelled for all the world like human blood. Saerian hissed, a low sound at the back of his throat.“Stupid gypsy,” he said.

The air around him had begun to ripple, a fierce disturbance of the otherwise serene setting. He grabbed her hand and squeezed, and the pressure was better than human. She dropped the dagger, and he shoved it through her hand. Phaedra cried out, but only a little. When he pulled the blade out, she watched the wound close, skin closing over new skin, knitting her back together.

“Don’t fight me,” he said. And suddenly she didn’t want to anymore. Phaedra was blank.

When he kicked her to the ground, Phaedra let him, limp like the straw dolls she’d had as a child. Lifeless. Vacant. Echoes of his words floated to me, but she felt like she was under water. Felt like the surface was on fire, and it was safer below.

“You’re going to make this so hard on yourself, baby,” Saerian said, standing over her, flicking a match to life. He smiled at her again, walking away, leaving her there, that ripple following him like a kite’s tail. “I can’t wait.”

He started whistling. The heat grew, trembling around Phaedra. She was sweating.

“Oh,” he said, turning around, eyes on Phaedra, working over her prone body like fingers. “One more thing. Don’t move until I say.”

He winked, and laughed, the sound making her wish she could go deaf. And as he jumped back over the iron fence, leaving the park, he threw the match over his shoulder.

The ripple became a fireball, and Phaedra was lying in the middle of it.

Lindsey was beginning to wonder why'd he'd even agreed to this. Why he was strolling through the park, in darkness, smoking cigarette after cigarette. He heard Saerian's voice, knew well enough to stay out of sight; the tattoos would prevent Phaedra from sensing him as long as he stayed out of her line of vision.

He watched as they bickered, and fought, kowing not to intervene until Saerian was out of the way. He cursed quietly as flames surrounded Phaedra, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Saerian was out of his fucking tree.

He managed to find a gap in the flames, coughing as he made it to her side.

"Ma'am? Are you ok? Can you move?" He was concerned, obviously - and ok, the photos in Wolfram and Hart's basement hadn't done her justice.

Phaedra felt everything around her go cold.

Fire was gone. Interesting, she thought. SAerian apparently didnt' want to kill her--not yet, anyway. Just scare the crap out of her.

More interesting-- young man standing over her, look of worry on his face.

Ma'am?

Phaedra couldn't quite sit up. She was tired, as if fighting Saerian verbally and with strength of will was enough to induce a coma.

"Move?" Phaedra said. This was funny. A smile touched her lips. "Not at the moment. Give it time."

Lindsey had half-expected the flames to consume them both; but then, that would make a mess of things. And oh, Lindsey was glad for the telepathic training he'd been given. More on focusing the mind than anything else; no use against someone - or something - like Sa-Sean, but enough to ensure the woman currently struggling to stand couldn't pick up too much.

"You should get off ground, anyhows." He gently slid his arm under her shoulders, helping her to her feet with another hand under her elbow. He guided her to the bench, making sure she wasn't going to just keel over on him before sitting down next to her.

Slipping a cigarette between his lips, he patted his pockets, pulling out the lighter he'd been tossed by Sean.

"Mind if I?" He gestured to the cigarette, checking with her before lighting up.

This was amusing.

She skimmed the surface of his thoughts. Lindsey.He knew what she was, Phaedra was sure, and he was watching his step. Nice to know he had a brain, she thought, smirking.

Before she knew it, he was helping her up, sitting her down on the bench. Inititally , he led both of them to the same bench she'd occupied with Saerian. A stern thought of NO had cajoled him to change course.

Phaedra sat, pushing black hair out of her face. She wasn't hurt, not really. If she had been, Lindsey wouldn't be sitting here. A vampire suffering from serious burns was not something a mortal--no matter how much they thought they could handle--could really stomach.

Phaedra curled a leg up to her chest, leather squeaking as her coat moved. The other she let fall out straight in front of her.

He asked her if he minded if he lit a cigarette. Phaedra smirked. "If you're planning on creating a psychic fireball, then yes. Otherwise, go ahead."

He had a lighter, shiney and silver, not matches. That was a relief. Phaedra figured she'd be bothered by matches for a pretty long time, after tonight.

Lindsey chuckled softly, lighting his cigarette and offering her the packet, lighter lying on his open palm, next to the pack.

"Mind me asking how the hell you ended up in the middle of that fire? M'guessing it wasn't planned..." He murmured wryly.

Phaedra shook off the offer. What did she need with cigarettes? She'd never had one as a mortal. Did she really need yellow teeth now?

"You're right. It wasn't," Phaedra said, eyes far away. Next to Lindsey, she was realizing the thickness of her accent. "Thought I could get information out of the guy who set it."

She turned her head, looking with large, slightly hurt but wise blue eyes directly into Lindsey's. "I was wrong."

Lindsey chuckled softly.

"I know that feelin', believe me." He met her gaze, breath catching a little. Her eyes were...dangerously mesmerising. He tore his gaze away, with effort, looking out across the park, past scorched grass as he raised the cigarette to his lips once more.

"You're not from here," Phaedra said, making it a statement. Her eyes went now to the patch of grass where she'd been laying, unable to move.

Not even a single scorched blade.

Phaedra was getting tired of this. Since meeting up with Anita (though she didn't blame her, at all), it'd been one damn thing after another.

"What're you in town for, Lindsey?" Phaedra asked, tilting her head. "The sights?"

Lindsey shook his head, but didn't elaborate - it wasn't really a question, after all.

"I sorta just ended up here." He murmured, glancing across at her. "Been traveling for a while, there's people I'd rather not run into. They wouldn't expect me to be in a place like this." He gestured to the town around them.

And yeah, it hurt that he couldn't go home, the few letters he'd sent and received proving that much. New folks in town, strange visitors to the house...he knew damn well that if he went home, the senior partners would find him. There'd been enough close shaves when he was picking up his mail.

Unease.

It fell off of him like blowing dust off a book shelf. And fear.

It was always interesting to Phaedra when capable-looking people were afraid. What caused that? What wasn't enough for them to remain confident?

She looked at him, watching him smoke. "Why did you help me?"

Lindsey smiled wryly.

"Because you needed it. Why - you prefer I just left you to burn?" He glanced down at his cigarette, took one last drag before stubbing it out against the bench, tossing the butt into the bushes.

"May not be a choirboy, but I'm not just gonna walk away. Not when I coulda helped."

Phaedra raised an eyebrow. Of course she wouldn't have preferred that.

She stood, looking down at him, arms crossed over her chest. "You're helpful, then, are you?"

She smirked, mouth twisting into what would've been a very sexual expression--had she not been a vampire. As it was, it looked more predatory, in a violent sense. She let herself look at him-- really look at him.

Jeans, boots, bracelet with fleur-de-lis. Earrings, both ears. Hair falling in his face. Piercing eyes.

Phaedra's gaze wandered to the pack of cigarettes and the lighter, placed next to Lindsey on the bench.

And she saw it-- her order's symbol. In less than a heartbeat, Phaedra was kneeling in front of the bench, facing Lindsey and the lighter, peering at it, afraid to touch it.

"Where did you get that?" she asked, voice breathy.

He shivered a little, faced with that dark smirk, swallowing hard, trying to deny the faint burn of arousal that ran through him, for a moment.

Legs crossed at the ankles, he leant back against the bench, letting her look at him, watching as her gaze moved up, then slipped sideways.

"That?" He glanced offhandedly at the lighter, shrugging. "Family heirloom." He didn't say what family, of course. Sure as hell wasn't his.

"What?"

Her eyes fixed on his, and she grabbed the lighter, holding it in her hand. Her eyes remained wide, and she looked at the lighter like it was a life raft. The symbol was there, the diamond with the snake inside. Just like on her wrist.

Then, with a small smile, she looked back up at Lindsey. "I don't believe it," she said.

She wasn't moving to stand, not realizing the oddity of addressing Lindsey while sitting almost between his legs. She held the lighter, almost squeezing it, and scanned his mind for lies.

She didn't find any.

"Who... who did it belong to? You know what the symbol means?"

"I don't know." Lindsey shook his head, frowning a little. "Means somethin' to you though, I guess." His fingers brushed the surface of the lighter, gently playing over the soft skin of her palm as he drew his hand back.

He leant forward a little, under the pretense of looking at the lighter more closely, itching to be near her, realising that was a really fucking bad sign. But he couldn't help it.

"It means everything to me," she whispered.

Eyes focused very intently on Lindsey's, not blinking, Phaedra reached over, pulling back her leather jacket, exposing pale, ghost-white flesh. She pulled the leather back until he could see the tattoo.

"You have your own marks," she said, not waivering her gaze. She could see, peripherally, a black tattoo across his chest. It'd been hidden until he moved, plaid fabric moving around broad shoulders. "You understand?"

He couldn't have looked away, even if he'd wanted to, caught in those eyes. He caught sight of the tattoo out of the corner of his eye, enough to tell it was the same pattern enscribed on the lighter.

Nodding, he undid the first few buttons on his shirt, exposing the biggest tattoo, in the center of his chest, the top curling against his collarbones. The others...well, he wasn't quite enough of an exhibitionist to show those off just yet.

Phaedra sat forward, blinking, looking away from Lindsey's eyes. She let go of her wrist, let the leather and the black sleeve fall back into place.

Unconsciously, her eyebrow raised, but the movement was covered by dark hair falling across her forehead.

With the intent of a child-- to touch in order to understand-- Phaedra put her right hand out, pushing the plaid fabric of Lindsey's shirt out of the way further. She ran white fingers over the pattern on his chest, feeling bone underneath. Feeling blood pump.

She swallowed the blood lust. Her hand stayed where it was. And without speaking, she sent Lindsey a question: You wouldn't have that, the lighter, if it wasn't important to someone in your past. You really don't know who?

Lindsey couldn't help the way his breath caught, the cool hand pressing against warm skin so new and yet achingly familiar. Darla... He couldn't help the thought, couldn't stop it from escaping, though he quashed it as quickly as he could.

My granddaddy. We...we haven't spoken in a long time. Can't bring myself to throw it away, though. Stupid, I guess. Keeping something that reminds me of someone I don't even talk to any more.

"All I ever had belongs to people who I don't talk to anymore," Phaedra said aloud.

Darla? Who was Darla? She pushed, gently, at his mind. Blonde. Very pretty; she was sick. She became... a vampire. And Lindsey couldn't do anything for her. He'd wanted her. Even after she was turned. Phaedra didn't move. Without having seen that lighter, the symbol, she'd have stood, indiginant. Instead she stayed. But the words that came were the same.

"I'm not her," she said, voice harsh. The Eastern-European accent made everything sound harder. She shook her head, as if she were sorry, as if to erase the words.

"I know." Lindsey's voice was soft, apologetic.

It's just...she was the last person to touch me, like that. He admitted, head bowed, looking down at his hands, conscious of her, so close.

But you're definately not her. Just as beautiful, just as deadly, and just as addictive - though in an utterly different way.

This is going to end so fucking badly... He wasn't even really aware he'd thought it, hand sliding to cover hers, pressing her palm against his chest, heart thudding against his ribcage.

The apology was okay; she nodded in acceptance. What followed, the rawness of the commentary running through his thoughts, made her gasp, audibly. This was the last person... Phaedra tried to think. Who had been the last person for her? Had she been human, still, had it been that long? She furrowed her eyebrows. She couldn't remember.

You're definitely not her. That caught Phaedra's attention. Made her look up, sharply, right into his eyes, then down and away.

Her hand was still on his chest, and she didn't realize it until Lindsey covered it with his own. Then it was like a jolt--the warmth of the skin, covering her hand on either side, the beating of his heart...

... the blood...

but the heartbeat. It was irregular. It was too fast.

Lindsey was nervous. His heart didn't move the way scared hearts did; that dance Phaedra knew well. His heart beat as if one look from her would stop it beating. 300 years fled from her face. For now, Phaedra was the young woman she'd been in life. Maybe it is a bad idea... but do you have a better one?

She opened her mouth to speak, realizing what she was going to say was a bad idea before she even said it. "Want to get out of here?"

And in that moment, she was even more beautiful. Unsure and delicate and enough to make his breath stop, for a moment.

Never been known to have good ideas. Or listen to 'em. He smiled ruefully.

"Yeah." He murmured. "Yeah, I do." He reached blindly for his cigarettes, shoving them into his shirt pocket, fingers folding around her hand, so delicate in his. He stood up, gently tugging her to her feet, swallowing hard as he looked down at her.

You gonna punch me if I try and kiss you right now?

Phaedra let him pull her to her feet. She could've stopped him, easily. She was stronger. But she had no desire to. A warm hand engulfed hers. She wondered for a minute if she was unbearably cold to him. Phaedra never really cared about things like that-- who was she going to touch, other than a mark?

Lindsey looked down at her. She caught the thought he threw at her, and raised an eyebrow. He'd be the first to try anything like that in three centuries. Men would grab at her, yes, but kissing wasn't usually high on the list of priorities.

"You don't even know my name," she said, leaning her head upward so that the movement of her lips caused them to graze his. The sound was barely there, an afterthought.

"So tell me." He murmured, lips brushing hers a little more firmly, still not quite a kiss, but only just. One of his arms looped around her waist, the other gently cupping her jaw, fingers curling behind her ear, thumb gently stroking across the slope of her cheekbone.

Lindsey. He murmured, realising he hadn't actually told her his name, either.

The brush of his lips made nerve endings that Phaedra didn't even know she had wake up. Lindsey was holding her. Odd sensation, to Phaedra. Certainly that was something that hadn't happened in a long time. Vampires weren't big huggers. Neither were professional killers.

His hand moved across her cheek, and it took everything Phaedra had not to turn her face into the caress blindly, letting him do whatever he wanted, regardless of their location. He hadn't said his name to her, but Phaedra still knew it. She'd read it off the surface of his mind-- an easy thing for a vampire of her age and strength.

She smiled, and this time she knew what the smile was doing to him. "I know," she said, responding to his message of his name. The smile tickled, lips moving across lips again.

She didn't move back, just stood there, waiting, against his mouth. "Phaedra," she said.

He smiled, eyes drifting half-closed, never moving away.

"Phaedra." He repeated, finally moving closer, lips pressing a little more firmly against hers. His arm tightened around her waist, enough to hold her close but not threatening, thumb still stroking distractedly across her cheek.

Hearing a man say her name with lust in his voice wasn't new. Hearing it while being held by the man, well, that was.

He held her tighter, and Phaedra realized they were still standing in the park. Where people could see them. She was a step away from being completely undone, simply because Lindsey was gentle enough to touch her face, to caress her. He was taking his time, something Phaedra appreciated but didn't understand. She always acted.

Now what? she asked him silently, eyes closing. Thought you wanted to kiss me. I can make you chase me, ves'tacha, and I run faster than you do.

She opened her eyes on the last sentence, looking up at him.

Chasing can be fun... Lindsey smirked, still holding her. But I ain't in the mood for it right now. His hand slid back, fingers tangling in her hair as he gave in, kissed her hard, lips parting against hers, coaxing her mouth open as his tongue darted out, flicking over her lower lip before slipping in to her mouth.

His tongue caressed smooth fangs, teasing but always careful, soft groan falling between their mouths as his arm tightened a little, letting her feel just how much she affected him with something as simple as a kiss.

Later then, she said silently. His hands were in her hair, lips on her lips, tongue in her mouth, against fangs, running across her bottom lip. Phaedra's eyes were shut, and she was totally abandoned to the kiss. She forgot someone had tried to kill her tonight, or that Saerian was back.

She kissed Lindsey back, hungrily, like she'd devour his mouth instead of his blood. Her hands wound themselves around his waist, and ran under his shirt, tracing idle circles on the skin of his back. He'd moaned, and pulled her closer; if his eyes had been open, Phaedra's face would've said it all.

A very small sound escaped her, a tiny moan. Phaedra pulled back, looking at Lindsey.

"I'm thinking we should maybe take this somewhere else..." Lindsey breathed, voice a little rougher than he would have liked, threaded with lust.

"Unless you wanna wake up in a cell, that is..." He stepped back a little, reluctantly, keeping his arm around Phaedra's waist.

Phaedra smirked, pulling back slightly as well.

She was half-reeling from the kiss.

"Not particularly," she said, blinking her eyes slowly, languidly.

What she was about to do was dangerous- very dangerous. Phaedra didn't really have a place of her own; she'd stayed at Xander's her first night, hadn't she? But after waking from the nightmare she'd had there, she'd found a decent hotel. Not motel. The kind with a mini bar and heavy drapes.

Wasn't far from here.

[Continued here]