Beheading the Hydra - Wesley

 

Huge thanks and smooches to Justhuman for the marvellously helpful beta. Thanks also to Lori and Lesley, especially Lesley for her encyclopedic knowledge of designer names. This finale fic is dedicated to Nell, who is my bestest, bestest minion, and who I rather think may need cheering up at the moment.

 

----====Lilah====----

I was cold inside -- inside my bones, my blood and my heart, and deep between my legs. The heat he had stoked in me for so long had all gone today, replaced by arctic fear. Real fear, not the 'let's play with death' thrill that I'd always got off on in the past. Real, because I'd never really wanted to live before now, not in a profound sense.

But that bastard had given me hope. I hated him.

I didn't want to die; I wanted to live with him in our own corrupted version of a 50's domestic paradise -- a cocktail of sex and devotion, with a twist of shadow and a shot of violence.

And it could never happen because I was soul-bound to my Career of Evil, and Wes couldn't live with that for all his proclamations of love. It could never happen because today Linwood Murrow would send me to Sunnydale to take the 'treatment' and stop being me at all. It could never happen because Wes intended to fight Murrow for my life, and in the process he'd lose his for sure.

I watched him through the open adjoining door between our offices. He was bent over his desk doing some last minute research, like the school geek cramming in extra revision before the final exam. Forget it, Wes. We're either ready now or we'll never be.

Fuck, I hated him. I was passionately in hate with him.

Still hadn't forgiven him for yesterday - summoning a goddamn Hell-lord without telling me. What the fuck had he thought he was doing? If he hadn't been such a sucky actor, and I wasn't such a suspicious bitch, and I hadn't still got the demon he called 'bicycle woman' tracking him, I'd never have known where he was and what he was doing. That thing in the circle would have killed or enslaved him, and I'd have been left alone here.

I stood and walked into his office. He looked up and smiled softly, his eyes tired, and the chill of fear increased deep inside me. Bending, I stroked my hand up and over his unshaven cheek and then curled my fingers in his hair, pulling his face to mine for a rough kiss. His stubble scraped my skin and our teeth clashed at this difficult angle. It wasn't a comfortable kiss, but I'd have settled for any at that moment.

His hands reached round me, and he scooped me down into his lap. I nuzzled into his neck, clinging like a little girl while he held me. It was pathetic, but I didn't care enough about the humiliation anymore to stop doing it. I was too scared to stop. I was too scared to let him go.

This was what he had reduced me to.

"Lilah, you are not going to the... 'doctors', I promise," he reassured foolishly, adjusting his words for Gavin's surveillance bugs. I wanted to tell him what a fucking idiot he was, but I just clung harder, digging my nails viciously through his Cerutti jacket. I felt him wince. "Lilah...? Talk to me."

"Bastard," I said bitterly, and then kissed him so hard that when I finally withdrew, he was panting for breath.

I lifted my head back and looked at him without expression. His brow creased as he tried to calculate what was wrong with me, and I laughed. The sound was hollow. I stood up and returned wordlessly to my room, shutting the adjoining door firmly between us.

 

----====Wesley====----

I sighed as the door closed. Poor Lilah, this was so difficult for her. I wished I could help her deal with whatever she was feeling. I was doing my best, but I had to concentrate on practical matters for both our sakes.

I ran through the checklist in my mind. My little time bombs were placed in the air conditioning at strategic places. My unlikely collection of weapons were secreted within my loose-fitting suit. Everything was ready; we just needed Murrow to appear.

As if on cue, my main office door opened, but it wasn't Murrow standing there, it was Connor.

Oh dear lord, not now!

"No, I can't see you." I said urgently. "Not today, not here; you have to leave now," I stood and strode over to him.

"But you are never at your home, Wesley," the boy complained. "You are always with that woman and I have to lie."

"Listen to me. I'll come and see you tonight. I'll come to you at the ho... place where you live. But you must go now. This instant. You have no idea how much da..." I couldn't say anything fully because of the damn bugs. I put my hands on his shoulders and tried to communicate with my eyes. "Please..."

But it was too late.

Gavin Park walked in behind him.

"This would be your young protégé, Wesley? Has he returned to your side? Perhaps Angel just doesn't have the correct accent to be the kind of father he needs."

"Connor is just leaving, Park," I said coldly, addressing him as a subordinate which technically he wasn't. "Go now, lad." I pushed Connor towards the door, but he hesitated, looking at me uncertainly.

Park said, "No, I think you'll find Connor is staying. Linwood just expressed a strong desire to meet the vampire's brat."

Using my best Watcher's voice, I commanded, "Connor, go!"

Obediently, he turned to run, but my doorway filled with security guards armed with guns and tasers, and his way was blocked. I tipped my head back in frustration, this was *not* how the day was meant to go. Connor backed up cautiously towards me.

"Do I fight, Wesley?" he asked.

"No," I answered, and then because I had to, I added, "These are our evil allies, remember? They will help us destroy Angel."

He turned and nodded slowly at me, understanding that I was asking him to act the role, but still not realising the extent of the danger he was in. "These men are our friends then?"

Park butted in with a condescending 'talking to children' tone, holding out his hand to shake. "I'm Gavin. Welcome to Wolfram and Hart, Connor."

The boy looked at the man's hand without trust, but he'd seen enough of our world by this time to understand what he was meant to do. He grasped Park's hand and shook it once. I repressed a smile at the wince on the lawyer's face from the unexpected force of Connor's grip.

Without any obvious instruction being given, the wedge of security men in my doorway parted like the Red Sea, and Linwood Murrow walked in with a posse of three of the DH lawyers from this floor. There was a smile of evil amusement on his face and it was directed at Connor.

"Steven," he said warmly, "Or are you still preferring 'Connor'?" They had met before? I had had no idea.

"You can call me 'Steven'," the boy said, with a slight emphasis on the 'you'.

"Steven then. I'm delighted you could spare the time to visit us here at Wolfram and Hart today. I understood from Wesley that the vampire had been holding you captive."

"I escaped."

"So I see. Congratulations." He patted the lad on the back. "And you came straight here to your, hmm, Watcher? How touching." He left his arm across Connor's shoulders.

The lad said nothing, and just stared at the 'super-DH' warily, although he presumably thought Murrow was still somewhat closer to human.

"I just sent the lad on a mission actually, Linwood," I said casually, resisting the impulse to pull my charge away from Murrow's misleadingly paternal arm. "I need him to sneak back into the hotel and steal a certain object for me. One we will be able to use in our fight against the souled vampire."

Murrow squeezed Connor's shoulders, drawing him closer, and provoking a look of anger from the youngster. The senior lawyer said,

"Oh, I'm sure we can send a team of disposables for whatever it is. I think now our lad is in the safe confines of Wolfram and Hart that we shouldn't be in too much hurry to lose him again." He turned to Connor. "Would you like to see the Top Floor, Steven? We have some very special rooms up there."

I'd never been there, and I'd heard nothing about what lay up there, but I didn't like the sound of that plan at all.

I adopted the prissy tone that I had once been fond of. "It's important that he does what he is told, Linwood. Please don't undermine my authority in this."

"Ah, because growing lads need a strong father figure, do they not? I understand. But sadly, I've decided Steven is not going to be your Slayer-substitute any longer. I'm going to personally take the boy on an interesting vacation to Sunnydale... "

I was unable to completely obscure my emotional reaction to the idea of Connor as a DH. The idea of failing him so profoundly made my breath catch.

"What's the matter, Wesley?" Murrow asked with fake concern. "Oh yes, I forgot, you have a personal history with the town, do you not? Don't worry. I'll keep him from the Slayer, and your lover will be there too to provide a mother's touch. I've decided not to wait for Lilah's decision, by the way, and made it for her."

I noticed Park frown where he lurked near the adjoining door. I asked Murrow, "But not me?"

"I think not. We no longer have any need for your particular talents."

"'We'?" I asked with a small smile.

His own smile was broad. "Why, Wolfram and Hart, of course. Although I see no need to terminate your contract unless you fail to put in the necessary work. How's that list of ways to torture souled vampires coming along?"

"It's complete." I offered him a folder. He let Connor go and took it, flicking through the pages, sniggering occasionally and once laughing out loud.

"Oh, this is good, Wesley. Perhaps you have more of a future here than I'd been thinking. Excellent work."

"Thank you," I nodded, trying to look slightly smug at the praise.

"Now to actually put these ideas into practice. I want you to contact Angel and let him know we have his son. That's all. I can't see that you'll need to tell him anything else to make him come here."

Connor looked at me with increasing concern, but I couldn't afford to return his glance. "Connor, you will go with Mr Murrow," I instructed, without meeting his eyes. "Do whatever he says and don't cause trouble."

He protested, "I don't want to, Wesley." I couldn't blame him, I really couldn't.

"You have to." I could hear the grief in my voice and that was not helpful.

Murrow beamed viciously at me. "Make the call, Wesley."

Ah, so he intended to stay and listen to me. Fantastic. I sat back down at my desk and picked up the receiver, pressing the numbers for Angel Investigations.

"Yo," said a voice. Gunn. Perfect.

"Charles. It's Wes. I need to speak to Angel."

"You've got a damn nerve ca..."

"Yes, you are quite right. May I speak to Angel please?"

"You can just fuck right off and die far as I'm concerned, English."

"Indeed, I'm intending to do just that shortly, Charles. In the meantime, please pass me over to Angel."

"Don't you be calling me by my first name. You lost that right, traitor."

Idiot, I'm trying to communicate something here. "Charles, I miss our bowling evenings too, but those days are gone. Now pass me to bloody Angel!"

I cast an exasperated look at Murrow, as if to say 'I'm trying'. He grinned encouragingly. Gunn and I had never, of course, gone bowling. I hoped he could get over his anger long enough to realise there was a subtext here.

The receiver was muffled so that he could talk privately with someone else. I waited with the illusion of patience. Another voice came onto the line.

"Talk."

"Hello Angel. I'm calling at the request of Linwood Murrow. He thought you might be concerned about Connor's whereabouts." There was silence at the other end, but I pretended to have heard something. It would hopefully be a while before anyone checked the tapes and discovered that I had been faking it, and by that time things should be far too progressed for it to matter. "No, I haven't caught a cold, Angel, although there's a lot around the office that have. It's just that the line is bad. Did you hear what I said? About Connor?" More silence. I sigh. "Well, he's here if you want him, if you still care. Linwood wanted you to know."

I hung up. I had done all that I could.

 

----====Lilah====----

The door to my lover's office opened, but it wasn't Wesley in the doorway. A couple of our security guards walked in authoritatively and stood to either side of the door. Then Linwood Murrow ushered through Connor of all misbegotten brats.

I gave them both a look of ironic disbelief. "Hello, Linwood. Made a little friend?"

"Very droll, Lilah," Linwood answered. "I hope you're all packed and ready for your vacation."

The choice had been made for me then? Why was I not surprised? "I'm ready," I confirmed, although not in the way he meant.

"Good girl," he smiled approvingly, like I gave a fuck what he thought. "We're all heading up to the Top Floor and I'd like you to come too. Young Steven here needs a woman's touch."

"I'm sure he does," I smirked at the boy who stared brazenly back at me, but couldn't hide the blush creeping across his cheeks. What the hell was he doing here anyway? Had they captured him in the wild and brought him back to study?

Linwood ruffled Connor's hair and the boy tensed. The older man smiled at the reaction and turned his touch into more of a perverted caress. "Steven will be going on vacation with you, Lilah, so I want you both to be friends."

"Oh, we'll be friends alright, won't we *Steven*?" I winked at him in an obvious fashion and he looked down at his feet. I laughed, and wondered where the hell Wes was. There were security guards milling about in his office, but I couldn't see him at all.

Linwood's smile was packed to the seams with top quality smarm. "I'm glad you're being reasonable about this, Lilah. You won't regret it. I haven't."

"You *are* looking well, Linwood."

"I feel it," he agreed, and then in a strangely intimate moment, he confessed, "Such strength, Lilah, such power. You've no idea. But soon you will feel it too."

"Sunnydale is clearly a spa to rival Lourdes." I remarked dryly, standing up from my desk and grabbing my jacket. "To the Top Floor then."

We left my office, Linwood pushing Connor out in front of him. I wondered why the boy wasn't resisting, he wasn't exactly known for his self-restraint. Outside, I saw Wes, looking more than a little pissed, in a clump of known DH-convertees. He was talking with Gavin and they both looked up as we came out. Wes gave me an intense, but totally indecipherable look. Thanks darling, really fucking helpful.

Linwood leant over my secretary menacingly and played with her hair. Apparently the DH conversion process had made him extra touchy-feely. Not that he wasn't always a top grade pervert, but he'd previously been too nervous of being hit to try this sort of thing when the victim wasn't securely bound.

He said to her, "When the vampire arrives, make sure he knows we're all on the Top Floor." She nodded nervously. I moved over to as close to Wes as I could get, but the guards seemed to have orders to keep us apart.

So then we followed Mr Super-DH to the lifts like the good little minions we were, and that was when the trouble started. Connor, it seemed, had some kind of freak-child claustrophobia thing that all our damn investigations had failed to uncover before.

"I'm not going into that box."

"Sure you are, son," said Linwood, giving him a little push.

The boy turned around and hit Linwood's hand aside. "Stop touching me, creature of evil."

Oops. Linwood's voice hardened. "Wesley, your charge needs discipline."

My lover was doing that thing he does when he's distressed, getting more and more immobile, until only his eyes showed any animation at all. In a quiet voice, devoid of emotion or urgency, he said, "Connor, it's just a mechanical lift. It will carry us up to the top floor. Get in it, please."

"No, Wesley. There's something bad up there, and I'm not getting into the box."

Linwood sighed. "Ah, youth today, so sad." And then he shoved Connor with great force into the lift. The boy hit the back wall with a reverberating bang, and fell to his knees. Linwood beamed, apparently with delight at his own strength. What a dick.

Connor leapt straight back up and launched himself at Linwood, only to get himself tasered down by six different weapons simultaneously. The guards dragged the boy back into 'the box', and we all shuffled in with him. The doors closed and up we went.

During that short flurry of confusion, I'd managed to get myself next to Wes, and in the crush inside the lift, I felt for his hand and squeezed it. His face showed no clue that he had felt my touch, but his fingers squeezed back. I wondered vaguely when the Blaze of Glory was due to happen, since no way were we getting out of this alive.

I'd been to the Top Floor many times. It was where the company bigwigs hung out, and where meetings with Senior Partners or very important clients took place. Linwood had his office suite up here and that was where we were led, after passing through the green 'wall' of light that served as a mystical security measure between the lift and the corridor.

Connor was dragged along by the guards, who zapped him occasionally to make sure he stayed immobile. Once we had all shuffled into the outer rooms of his offices, Linwood went to his PA's desk, which was suspiciously sans incumbent. He sat down on the back edge and lent over to the front to press a series of somethings out of my view.

With a rumbling of muffled machinery, the whole left wall of the room began to rise. Beyond it were two empty cells, complete with all mod cons in the way of medieval dungeon equipment. I'd heard rumours about this and what happened to the street brats Linwood was said to bring up to his rooms, but I'd never seen the torture garden for myself. That was the man's problem, of course, evil was always more than just a career for him.

It was a way of life.

Connor was shoved into one of the cells and chained to a wall. Linwood beamed at the conscious but helpless boy. "Welcome to your new accommodation, Steven. You can make yourself comfortable here until I'm ready to return to Sunnydale. I'm sure your daddy will enjoy visiting you, and you and I can pass some pleasant moments together once he's chained safely in the other cell and able to watch."

The boy was tasered again for good luck, it was amazing he wasn't smoking. The cell bars closed together after Linwood hit another key on whatever device lurked at the front of his PA's desk. My ears caught a tiny sound from Wes, and I noticed his fists were clenched. I coughed loudly to draw any attention from him to me, and when I dared to look again, he seemed composed once more.

This had to be seriously disturbing Wes, who I'd been trying hard to protect from the 'evil' in 'evil law firm'. I wondered if it was enough to make him change his mind about me. I felt he'd been choosing to be wilfully amnesiac about what he knew of my past activities for some time, and so anything that reminded him of the reality of Wolfram and Hart was in danger of cracking those rosy sunglasses.

The guards, without being instructed to, prepared stakes and other anti-vampire measures. Linwood, still perched on his PA's desk, had Gavin find chairs for himself, Wes and me, and made him place them in the centre of the room. We sat down and waited in silence while Linwood reviewed a folder that he'd been carrying and chuckled occasionally.

The cold had thawed inside me, and I put its earlier existence down to stagefright, gone now that the performance was underway. I felt excited and energised, and just a little bit like Thelma and Louise about to go all gung ho over the cliff.

Hit it.

 

----====Wesley====----

All my intense planning had been for nothing, thanks to Connor choosing today of all days to be foolish. Now, not only was he involved in this mess with Lilah and me, but also Angel. I had no concept of how to get them all out of this alive. I tried to assess the situation in less pessimistic ways, but the best I could manage was a pragmatic methodical approach of prioritising and 'one thing at a time'.

I wished Lilah wasn't here and vulnerable to crossfire. In total, the largish room held ten people, eleven if I included my 'Slayer-substitute' as Murrow had referred to him, who slumped unconscious in the frighteningly well equipped torture chamber. As well as Lilah, Park and Murrow, there were three DH lawyers and two, apparently human, guards with me in the office. The rest of the guards had remained in the corridor and anteroom.

We knew the instant Angel had entered the building, for Murrow received a call on his cell phone. It took less than five minutes until the floor's alarm system alerted us that he'd arrived up here, and the guards took defensive positions. I contemplated my chances of being able to move from this chair to behind Murrow without being stopped, but I considered them slim to none.

"This will be special," Murrow crowed from behind me. "The vampire's had this coming to him for a long time. I want him undusted if possible, people. Wesley here has given me many delightful ideas I want to try out."

Abruptly, the sound of violence could be heard from outside the room: the crack of tasers and crashing of furniture. I reached out and placed my hand on Lilah's shoulder. When she looked at me, surprised, I mouthed the word 'spray' and pushed her hard, so that she and her chair crashed to the floor at the instant Gunn charged through the doorway, carrying his homemade axe.

Gunn charged through the two guards, smacking aside their taser weilding hands, and swung at Murrow who was still perched complacently on the table. I knew Gunn had little chance against the super-DH, but I used the distraction time to dart from my chair to behind the desk.

The keypad Murrow had been using to control aspects of the cells was there, embedded in a pullout panel in the desk. I had made a point of carefully watching his hand move when he had unlocked the cells, attempting to memorise the pattern. I had a reasonable chance of duplicating the series of movements and opening the cells again, providing I could successfully transpose them to the angle I now was facing.

There was an awful smacking noise and Gunn flew across the room. Murrow turned towards me, anger flashing across his face when he saw what I was doing, but before he could take action, a crossbow bolt appeared through his shoulder.

He snarled and turned again, to see Fred in the doorway with the offending weapon. She immediately ducked back out of the room as the DH-lawyers started firing guns at her. Angel really shouldn't have brought her here, but I couldn't let myself worry.

And in truth, I was more concerned about Lilah who seemed to have disappeared, although there was a familiar smell in the air and an itch in my nasal passages, so I thought she must have used the atomiser at least once.

I looked urgently back down to the keys and made a rushed decision. I was about to press the buttons when a hand closed around my throat from behind. It was a very familiar grip.

"I'm trying to open the bloody cage, idiot!" I swore at Angel, using an inevitably strangled tone. He let me go without a word, and I added, "Murrow is a 'super-DH'. Don't underestimate him. Help Fred."

Angel growled, probably in response to my commanding tone, but then he had gone with vampire speed and entered into pitch battle with Murrow whom Gunn had been attempting to keep from his girlfriend. As I watched, momentarily entranced by the battle, Gunn went down from a combination of taser zap and gunshot, and that shook me back to urgent action. I pressed the buttons and allowed myself the tiniest of smiles when the cell opened.

Connor was awake and ready to fight. I began to run towards the cell, but was stopped when a bullet winged my arm, causing me to trip. Once on the floor, I discovered where Lilah had gone.

She was hidden under the PA's desk, apparently wrestling with Gavin Park over the possession of the atomiser. As I was close enough to help her out, I kicked the Asian man hard in the head. He wavered from the blow, and my lover hit him in the side of his face with a paperweight. It made a sickening crunch and he collapsed.

I was dragged upright by one of the DH lawyers who raised his fist for a punch. His eyes and nose were streaming in response to the allergen, and I reached for my own atomiser even as I raised my other arm to block the coming blow.

Which hurt a lot, and temporarily interrupted my search for the spray.

A crossbow bolt entered the side of my foe's head. Not something that would kill a DH, but certainly sufficient to distract him long enough for me to punch hard on his nose. Not having Spike's strength, it took me a series of three knuckle-bruising blows to break the vulnerable nasal bridge into the lawyer's skull. He fell to the floor, blue gunk oozing, while I shook my throbbing hand.

I threw a grateful nod to Fred; that was the second time one of her bolts had saved me. A quick look around the room showed Angel still in an unlife or death struggle with Murrow. Gunn was up again, but bleeding considerably as he tried to fight a DH and a guard simultaneously. All other foes were down however, so things could have been worse.

I ran to Connor, and my spirits dropped when I saw that the steel manacles he was fixed in had electronic locks, ones for which I had no idea of the combination. I tried the same four numbers that had opened the cells, but no luck.

"I'll get an axe to break the chains," I told him and ran out again, removing my warded dagger from the holster inside my jacket.

Murrow had Angel in a headlock and was twisting. Such was his strength that he was clearly in danger of ripping the vampire's head from his body, despite Angel's own superhuman muscles. I tried to run over to help, but the remaining 'normal' DH staggered in front of me with Fred on his back. He was wheezing and gasping for breath. I punched my dagger through the bridge of his nose as if it were a tent peg. He went down, sliding wetly off my blade, which I retained.

Hmm, maybe I was getting the knack.

Our only remaining foe was Murrow, but our victory was far from certain, and reinforcements could be arriving at any point. My Ultra-Allergen Cocktail bombs would hopefully have exploded in the air conditioning vents by now, so at least that should have hindered any DH cavalry charge.

As I attempted to clamber over Fred and the fallen and as yet undissolved DH to help Angel, Lilah appeared from nowhere and sprayed her atomiser directly into the face of Murrow. He yelled, released Angel, and smacked Lilah across the room, into the filing cabinets. She slumped limply to the ground and I immediately changed my direction to run to her side.

She could not be permitted to die.

 

----====Lilah====----

"Lilah. Lilah, come on now."

I woke up to find myself cradled in Wesley's arms as he repeated my name urgently. Oh, how embarrassingly Buddy-cop flick.

I batted his arms away impatiently and sat up. My back and the back of my head hurt like hell. There was only one fight continuing in the office. The whole of the ruins of Angel Investigations were ganging up on Linwood and trying to beat him into the ground. Despite the fact that the super-DH's eyes were swollen and his breath sounded more like snoring, the AI team wasn't having much luck.

The first to fall was the wannabe gangsta, Gunn. He looked like he was already badly beaten, and Linwood's power-punch decked him in one. The Texan waif wailed and smacked my boss ineffectually about the head. She was rewarded by a side blow strong enough to propel her out of the door.

I allowed myself a small hope that Linwood had killed her. I was worried Wes still had the crush on the sexless creature that he had used to torture himself with, showing that bad taste had been a way of life for him before I'd taken him under my wing.

Wes was on his feet again, and heading in to do battle like the pathetic hero he was. I really needed to instil some basic self-interest into the man before he got us both killed.

He told Angel, who was getting increasingly battered, "You need to break Connor's chains. We need his help here." Then he removed a small and familiar box from his jacket pocket. Ok, here came stupid gamble number thirteen.

Linwood's streaming eyes fixed upon the box, as Wes began to fiddle with it in his nimble fingers. The super-DH carelessly shoved Angel to one side as if he were merely human. I laughed, I couldn't help it. Linwood asked Wes,

"What's that you have there, Mr Philby?"

My lover didn't react to the reference to the infamous British traitor, and failed also to answer the question about the puzzle box as he pretended to struggle to open it. I got to my feet.

Angel also stood again behind Linwood, but instead of restarting the fight, he actually had the sense to obey Wes and head into the open cell. So there was a brain in that thick caveman skull then, I'd often wondered.

Linwood's curiosity got the better of him and he snatched the box from Wesley's hands. He looked at the mechanism, which Wes had revealed, and he smiled. He flicked the tiny switch within.

I grabbed Wes and pulled him back as the portal opened at Linwood's feet. A strong sucking wind started to drag the Division President of Special Projects into fuck knew where.

"Oh dear, Linwood," I smiled. "Looks like you'll be leaving us now. How tragic is that?"

"No!" he bellowed, and fumbled for something to hold onto.

Angel and Connor emerged from the cell and watched as my boss fell to the floor, clutching at the carpet as the portal vortex sucked him in. The manacles were gone from Connor's wrists and the vampire had his arm protectively around the boy. How gaggingly sweet.

Linwood's clawing fingers actually broke through the carpet and into the floorboards below. But it didn't do him any good, especially when, holding Wes's hand for security, I moved close enough to stomp my Jimmy Choo stilettos into the backs of his hands.

Wes laughed, and Linwood let go with a screech and disappeared into the whirlpool, which closed into itself with a sound like a sudden inhalation. The puzzle box, shut once again, fell to the carpet where the portal had been.

"Good girl," my lover said to me patronisingly, as he patted my ass. He bent to retrieve the puzzle box, slipping it into his jacket pocket, and then bent again to check on the unconscious Gunn.

"What was that?" Connor asked.

"The box or the man it trapped?" Wes asked, frowning as he investigated his ex-friend's wounds. I took off my shoe and began to carefully wipe the heel free of Linwood's blood on Gavin's jacket. He moaned. Damn, alive then.

Connor said, "The thing that came out of the box."

"A portal to somewhere. Let's hope it was to the Quor'toth." He smiled up at the boy, but then looked over to Angel who was in the doorway carrying a limp Texan lunatic in his arms. Oh, she looked dead. Things were really going very well.

Wes said to the vampire, "Gunn's alive, but he requires immediate hospitalisation. How's Fred?"

"Same." Damn.

Hmm, Angel had moved up from grunts to monosyllables, at this rate the two would be friends again just before Wes died of old age. Which would be too soon as far as I was concerned. I didn't like the way Wes seemed to accept any amount of punishment from the vampire without fighting back, because he felt he deserved it.

I would fight back for him, I decided. If Angel hurt my lover again, there would be equal and opposite pain for the bastard. Although I was stuck with Wolfram and Hart and our annoying plans for the vampire, as long as I didn't dust him, any darkening pain would be considered a feather in my Philip Treacy cap.

I picked up the phone on the PA's desk and made a call.

"It's Lilah Morgan. Send the company paramedics to the Top Floor, and call for an ambulance. Oh, and by the way, Linwood Murrow has had to retire from his position with Wolfram and Hart. I'm in charge until the next partners' meeting."

I put the receiver down and smirked at Wes, who was looking at me with his poker face. He returned to band-aiding the Gunn guy.

Connor said, "Is it over?"

"Looks like it," Angel replied.

"Oh, don't be so quick to write us off, Angelus," said a strange, hollow voice from beside me. I backed off hurriedly as Gavin Park rose to his feet. There was something very odd about his eyes, in that they were seemingly now made of fire.

 

----====Wesley====----

Tiny flames flickered out from the lawyer's eye sockets, and I tried to work out just what I was looking at.

"Wes?" Angel asked. I noted the friendly name shortening, but didn't have time to feel glad about it.

"No idea," I said, pulling Lilah back behind us and drawing my dagger again. "Assume deadly until, er, dead."

"That the knife I gave you?" he inquired in a deceptively casual tone.

I looked briefly at the sixteenth century Murshan dynasty blade in my hand. "Yes. It's a good weapon." I smiled quickly at him.

"You two want a room?" Park asked, and then grunted as large curled horns spiralled out from the side of his head, as if being corkscrewed out from inside his skull.

"Shit." Lilah cursed behind me. "Wes, meet Mr Oddbody."

So my traumatic summoning of Hell-lords yesterday had been for nothing. Damn it, how were the four of us meant to fight this thing? I muttered,

"This is a Lord of Hell. Suggestions welcome."

"Fuck it, Wesley!" Angel exclaimed.

I couldn't blame him, but Lilah said, "Like it's his fault?"

Park... Oddbody said, "Lilah, oh Lilah, I'm so disappointed in you. We thought you had Senior Partner potential, you know." His loafers broke apart to reveal split hooves, like a goat's. His facial shape was becoming more caprine too.

While I surreptitiously undid the fastening that was holding my letter opener under my sleeve, Lilah said, "Funny, I thought the only plans for me were to kill me off and use my body to house a demon spirit."

"Ah," the demon exhaled. "You were only going to lose your soul, and that's not really yours to hold tight to, is it now?" He smiled at my lover, and his teeth were huge and ruminant. I felt a little like Alice watching the White Queen change into the shop-keeping sheep.

The Hell-lord turned his smile towards me, "I suppose the charms of this English failure were just too much for you. You really should have utilised the company escort service more, I can't imagine his skills compare to theirs."

I had to smile when my lover claimed in her best sexy purr, "Wesley's skills are the 'special reserve', Mr Oddbody."

Angel snorted behind me, and my smile soon disappeared when Oddbody laughed and said, "Really Lilah? Then I'll have to take him with me to join my harem when I return to Korizon."

"No, thank you, Jhrial," I declined, thinking that if I was taken, I'd soon have a blond vampire coming to join me. The Hell-lord frowned deeply, and began to grow in height. Black tipped tongues of fire sparked from within his eye sockets.

"How do you know that name, worm?"

I ignored the question and said to the others, "When I say 'run', do as I say." I then looked up at the increasingly gigantic sheep-demon and proclaimed,

"JHRIAL HOTH'TAS GLORIUL MONTOS. RUN!"

And with that, I threw the blessed silver paper knife directly at the demon's forehead. It hit of course, I have a good aim, and it embedded to the hilt, causing his flesh to hiss and steam.

The Hell-lord released a hollow scream and his arms went up to his face, but his hands were now cloven hooves and seemed too clumsy to remove the burning knife. I began a kamikaze charge into his legs, intending to distract him further, as I had to give the others more escape time.

However my weight and strength were not sufficient to knock the beast over, and neither were Angel's when he barrelled into the demon beside me. Oddbody roared and stamped a hoof on the floor, causing plaster to fall from the ceiling, and Angel and I to be slammed back into the wall.

As I picked myself up, I said, "Didn't I tell you to run?" At least the other two seemed to have left.

Angel replied, "Gone are the days when I obey your orders, Wesley."

"You mean you did *once*?" I asked dryly.

He chuckled, and threw himself back at Oddbody, but unfortunately the demon had removed the paper knife from his skull and was ready to fight. Towering above the vampire, he put his hoof-hand on Angel's head, holding him out of arms reach. For some reason, Angel didn't seem to be able to duck out from under the pressure and he sank to his knees, pain in his expression.

Oddbody said, "My two colleagues wouldn't much appreciate me killing you, at least until we've assessed the new souled vampire Linwood was telling me about, but if you continue to irritate me, Angelus, I *will* throw you through the window. Even if you survived the fall, you certainly wouldn't the sun."

Connor reappeared in the room, and I sighed in exasperation. "Doesn't anyone do what I tell them?"

"No, Wes." said my lover from behind him.

"Jolly good," I said dryly, "We can share funeral expenses, that will be nice for our nearest and dearest."

Connor planted some choice kicks on the Hell-lord, and they did seem to have some minor effect, knocking the Pan-like demon back a little way, and forcing him to release Angel. I spied the paperknife and impulsively dived to the floor to recover it. A hoof slammed down onto my back and pinned me painfully.

"Now," said the voice of the demon, "I'd rather not kill either the vampire, or the prodigy boy here. But both this English fool and the femme fatale are disposable. So, I'll keep them hostage, and Angelus and the Destroyer will leave."

I heard Angel ask, "What makes you think I care what happens to either of them?"

"There isn't a soul in this room that doesn't hold love for the worm I'm about to crush in half, apart from maybe his own, and as he is devoted to my treacherous Lilah, I thought heroes like yourselves might care about her too."

I tried to ignore the distracting implications of that revelation, and wiggled enough to grasp the silver dagger and pull it out from under me. Oddbody increased the pressure from his hoof and I began to suffocate, as my chest was now almost completely unable to rise.

In the feeblest of voices, I said, "Take Connor... Go..." I strained for breath I couldn't take.

Angel said, "You're killing him."

"Leave then, like he said, and I'll let him respire."

My vision was turning black.

Angel said incredulously, "No you won't. As soon as we're gone, you'll kill him."

There was a low, bleating laugh, and I passed out.

 

----====Lilah====----

Wesley's eyes closed and I'd had enough. I scooted forward and down, grabbing the paperknife from his limp hand, and sticking it in Mr Oddbody's calf.

He screamed, and moved his leg hurriedly away from the sting, and therefore off Wesley, who gasped for an immediate breath. Angel and Connor charged forward and jumped on Mr Oddbody while I dragged Wes to one side. His eyelids flickered weakly open.

The Hell-lord knocked each of his attackers aside and glowered from one to the other, flames flaring out from his eyes. "You would force me to kill you all. Very well." He stalked over to where Angel lay collapsed and lifted the vampire by the head between two hooves. He began to slowly squeeze.

"Angel, no!" yelled Wes, at much the same time as Connor yelped, "Father!" How touching. They both staggered up and across to where the action was.

A new and chillingly distorted voice said, "Ptash xfraa vampire, lluczic."

Oh fucking fantastic. A second Hell-lord. It was the frumpy woman Wes had summoned yesterday. Oddbody turned to look down at her.

"Maezritel?" He let Angel drop. Wes and Connor dragged him away from the clash of the titans.

"That's me," she said in English, but using the same cacophonous many-voices-in-one tone. "And don't expect me to take my true form here, the Wolf would drive the mortals mad."

"What are you doing here?" Oddbody asked, and his body shrank down to the lumpy humpbacked human I'd seen previously. Gavin's body, it seemed, was no longer with us at all. Oddbody's eyes remained small pits of naked fire, which was how I'd recognised him in the first place.

The frump said, "I was searching for you. Asbodiam and I desired a word or two."

"And they were?"

She smiled. "Not words I can use here." She turned and looked directly at me. "Delilah Elizabeth Morgan, is that the knife you recently used to cause me pain?"

I sighed and looked at my hand. "Certainly looks the same."

"Give it to your far too clever boyfriend, would you?"

I looked at Wes and he held out his hand, so I placed the silver paperknife on his palm.

"Maezritel, I demand to know what you're about here!" Oddbody complained.

"It's quite simple, Jhrial. You have acted behind our backs and in traitorous ways. We are not at all happy with you. Discipline will be necessary."

"You can't hurt me, the Contract of Three denies you the right."

"You are correct, of course. Wesley George Wyndam-Pryce - HTHCTL GTRICL FRTACL!" She turned to glance at my lover. "Hurry, little man."

Wes shook himself and then darted forward to Oddbody, stabbing him through the neck. The demon screamed and attempted to thrust Wes away from him, but it was as if his arm hit a solid wall. He could not touch my lover.

Maezritel said, "You'll have to remove his head. You have precisely sixty-five seconds remaining of invulnerability."

"With a bloody paperknife?" Wes asked exasperatedly, but nonetheless he started to hack with the knife, while Oddbody could do nothing to stop him apart from backing away. He couldn't even speak as his vocal chords were cut, and apparently that mattered while he was in this form... or maybe it was the blessed silver that was crippling him.

Oddbody fell to his knees and Wes knelt too, sawing further through the thick neck with every stroke.

"Let me help, Wesley," Connor demanded, but Angel held him back,

"No, son. Wes has to do this alone."

The Hell-lord fell as a dead-weight to the ground, his head now attached only by his spine, which Wes was having some trouble severing.

"Ten seconds," announced the frump-lord.

"Arghhh," moaned my lover in frustration, and, wedging the blade between vertebrae, he stood up and stamped hard down upon it with his Church designed shoe, which was never going to be the same again.

The head separated from the body, and both parts immediately ignited. Wes hurriedly backed away before his invulnerability wore off. The sprinklers started, drenching us all.

"Well done, little English man," Maezritel said. "I knew I could rely on you to solve our problem, being as it was you who was so keen to bring it to our arrention in the first place."

"Your, um, welcome," he replied absently, wiping his bloody hands on a handkerchief he had found in his pocket. He was looking a little green. "I don't suppose you care to undo all the damage your upstart colleague did here?"

"There are other forces involved in the Ram's conspiracy, and I can't interfere with their paths, but I will remove the hybrid taint from this domain."

She raised her hands and said, "Khorizalin!"

Blue ectoplasm started to rise through the floor towards her, and she carefully gathered it all together in a glowing blue ball between her hands. As she worked, she said to me,

"You'll need to go on a recruitment drive. A lot of infiltration had taken place."

I answered drolly, "It's rarely difficult to find ambitious young lawyers with no scruples."

She smiled and, after compressing the blue ball down to something pea-sized, which she ate, turned her gaze to Wes. "Care for a reward?"

He looked taken back by the suggestion, but then a gleam shone in his eyes. "Yes, I rather think I do, Mistress Maezritel."

Angel snorted. "Have some sense, Wes. Don't accept unasked for gifts from Hell-lords." The vampire was advocating 'sense'? How out of character was that?

Wesley said, "Normally I'd agree with you, Angel, but the Wolf is said to be honourable, and I do have something I badly want."

"And what is that, little man?" she inquired.

"Lilah's complete freedom from her contract with Wolfram and Hart, together with a promise of safety from repercussions for all of this for us both. "

Oh fuck. He had actually done it. He had actually done what he had told me he would and paid off the mortgage on my soul.

A fat document appeared in Maezritel's hands and she smiled at me. "Very well. Delilah Elizabeth Morgan, you and your soul are free from all obligation to us, unless, of course, you wish to renegotiate. Congratulations." The contract burned up in her hands and my head spun.

Wesley caught me as I fainted.

 

----====Wesley====----

I knelt down and let Lilah's head rest on my hastily removed and folded jacket, as I folded her legs up to increase her blood supply to her brain. "And the promise of safety for us both?" I asked.

"Is made and will be kept. Stand up, little man," Maezritel commanded. Oh dear, I'd thought she would be done with me. I obeyed and turned to face her.

In a very alarming move, she drew me to her and hugged me. As I stood rigidly in her embrace she whispered with the power of a force nine gale into my ear. "Wesley George Wyndam-Pryce, because I never want to find myself inside a Jarlan Labyrinth ever again, I have something to give you for free."

And that was when she told me.

And then it was my turn to faint.

***

When I awoke, my head was in Lilah's lap and paramedics were strapping Fred and Gunn to gurneys. Both were dripped and Fred was semi-conscious and uttering a stream of gibberish, some of which was probably Pylean.

There was no sign of Maezritel, the sprinklers had stopped, and Connor and Angel were standing to one side, conversing quietly. I sat up and smiled weakly at Lilah, the words of the Hell-lord still echoing through my brain, as I imagined they now would forever. She was holding a fat document in her hand.

"What's that?" I asked.

"She offered me a new contract." Lilah sounded a bit dazed. I decided I needed to get her home.

"Going to sign it?" I couldn't help but ask as I got us both to our feet. She looked at me a little hopelessly.

"How could I do that to you after what you just did for me?"

I put my jacket back on, noticing that someone had bandaged the minor wound on my upper arm from that passing bullet. "I've won you the opportunity to chose, that's all. You never had a free choice previously. Let's go home, my love."

She grabbed me by the lapels and looked me in the eye, suddenly seeming very focused. In an intense whisper, she said, "I may never tell you this again, Wesley, so listen hard. I..." She stopped and took a breath. "I *love* you."

Joy sang through me.

I kissed her long and passionately while things continued to progress around us. Then I heard Connor ask, "How long can they go without breath, Dad?" and I chuckled into Lilah's mouth and pulled away.

Angel and Conner were standing watching us, their arms crossed in an identical way. Lilah laughed at them,

"You must be very proud of little chip-off-the-old-block there, Angel."

"I am," he answered, in perfect solemnity. "Now here's a thing I never thought I'd hear myself say: thanks for saving my life, Lilah."

She gave him a wry smile. "I had to. Wes would mope if you got dusted in front of him, and he's a pain in the ass when he's mopey." I slapped the arse alluded to and she jumped.

"Behave, Lilah." I warned, but I thought my broad smile may have undermined my authority somewhat. I said to Angel. "We're going now. Would you like a safe escort out?"

"Nah, we'll find our own way. I'd like to talk to you at some point, Wes. Just you."

"I'll come to the hotel if you like."

"Yeah, that'd work. C'mon, boy," he ruffled Connor's hair. "Let's get going."

The boy looked at me with a worried expression. "Goodbye, Wesley. I'm sorry if I brought trouble with me today."

"It all worked out well, Connor, so please don't worry, and you fought excellently. I'll see you soon." I smiled warmly at him and was rewarded by a shy smile back. The pair left.

Lilah was on her cell phone saying, "...yes, let them leave without incident." She ended the call and looked at me. "I thought I'd better play it safe with those two."

"I love you," I grinned, and took her back into my arms.

She smirked. "I'm not going to say it again. Once is all you get."

"It's all I need." I kissed her again, but after a few seconds, she pushed me back a little way.

"What made you black out, Wes? Connor said the Hell-lord did something to you."

I sighed and closed my eyes. Maezritel's words were still there, scarred into my memory like a brand. "She told me the truth," I murmured.

"Going to repeat it?"

"I don't think I can. She said I wouldn't be able to."

"Try?" she asked, drawing her nails lightly down the front of my shirt.

I sighed again, and then picked my words carefully. "I was told something about this plane and the way it works, the reason we are all here. It is remaking the way I see everything. We all have a... purpose, I think. We are all equally valid. We are all going to the same place on the same path. It is just the costumes we choose to wear on the way that are different. At least, that's the way I'm starting to understand it." I finished rather lamely.

"Where are we going then?"

"I've no idea," I acknowledged.

"Then what's this great cosmic secret then?" I opened my mouth to tell her, but no words emerged. I looked at her helplessly. She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Is it something bad?"

I shook my head. "No. No, it's quite reassuring actually." She looked into my eyes a little longer and then nodded, taking my hand.

Together we headed for the lifts.

 

----====Lilah====----

As I shut the door to my apartment behind us, I felt overwhelmed by weariness and leant back against the door. Wes turned and looked at me sympathetically. "Food and clean clothes for both of us, I think," he smiled, stroking my hair from my face.

"Well, as you're the one wearing the latest in serial killer haute culture, I suggest you take the shower first while I see what's in the fridge."

He looked closely at the hand he was stroking me with and made an expression of distaste. "I think you're right. Are these clothes salvageable, do you think?"

"Hell, no. And that's another insurance claim I have to file." I dumped my office bits and pieces by the sofa and headed for the kitchen.

I found three quarters of a pint of yesterday's delicious beef consommé, and I decided to warm it up into a hot hearty soup with added wild mushrooms, red wine and various other wholesome ingredients. I put it on a burner to gently simmer and headed to the living room to pour myself a glass of the Glenfiddich.

The telephone rang. I thought about letting the machine get it, but as I was standing right by it, I impulsively decided to answer. Before I'd had a chance to say anything, an English voice asked,

"Hello?"

"Hello," I said back, just betting that this was one of Wesley's 'mates'.

"Oh, is this Lilah?" His accent was not dissimilar to Wesley's and, as I remembered, the vampire had a very different mode of speech.

"No, it's your fairy godmother who just happens to be hanging out in Lilah Morgan's apartment. What can I do you for, um, let me guess, Rupert?"

"Yes, this is Rupert Giles. May I assume that the day went well for you?"

"Wes had told you our plans for today?"

"Yes, that’s right."

"Well, the Hell-lord's beheaded and there are no demonic humanoids left in Wolfram and Hart. That what you wanted to know?"

"Yes. Yes, good."

"I'll let Wes tell you the rest. I assume you'd like to speak to him."

"I’ll bow to your judgement; if you feel it would distress Wes to speak to me at the moment..."

"Wes is fine, he's just in the shower. I'll see if he'll come out now, or if he'd rather call you back. Hold on, if you would."

"Certainly. I understand."

I headed upstairs and went into the bathroom. As far as I could tell through the frosted glass, Wes was just standing under the shower, doing nothing but letting the water run over him as he bent his head down and lent his hands against the wall.

I opened the shower door, enjoying the sight of my wet, naked lover from behind. He turned around and looked at me quizzically. "I had gained the impression that we intended to eat before sex."

"I don't remember even mentioning sex, Wes," I grinned. "Rupert Giles is on the phone. Shall I tell him you'll call back?"

"No. No, I'll be right down." He started to turn off the water. I noticed he'd removed the square bandage from the bullet scrape on his arm. The wound looked sore.

I headed back to stir my broth, but came out and watched as Wes, wrapped in the bathrobe I recently bought for him as he looked damn stupid in mine, picked up the telephone.

"Rupert?" he said. A warm smile passed over his face. "It's good to hear from you. Everything went very well at my end today." The smile faded. "Rupert, your tone of voice is suggesting that things didn't go so well at your end." And then as I watched, all expression fell from my lover's face. Fuck it! Not now.

Everything had been right. Everything had been fucking perfect. And that English bastard had to spoil it all again, just like after Vegas. I supposed that the bad news had to be about Wesley's father again. I suspected the asshole was dead this time. Good thing too, except it seemed to upset Wes, and from what little I knew about his childhood, he should be celebrating. It should have been like Mardi Gras in here instead of the cemetery chill that had suddenly filled my apartment.

In a totally emotionless voice, Wesley continued to talk to the telephone, "I thought you had decided to avoid...? -- Ah, I see. Well, I suspected as much, as the prophecy seemed to suggest killing was necessary. -- He was being converted? -- Interesting. Using the old Julalian rites? -- The Molpo then? --- so you removed the demonic spirit and... what do you mean by 'collapsed' precisely?"

Suddenly, Wes sat up more upright in the chair. "Oh. Oh, Anya. Hello, this is Wesley Wynd... -- Oh, of course. I’m sorry." He sat silently for at least a minute, looking forlorn, and then said in a very quiet voice, "I don’t think I need to know anything right now. Except - are you two all right?" He nodded almost imperceptibly. "Oh. Oh, I am fine too."

He wasn't. He was paler and more shaken than I'd seen him throughout the whole of today's life or death adventure. I swiftly stirred the broth again, and then returned to where I could see him.

"No, I am fine. Really," he was insisting, but as he tipped his head back into the sofa, the glint of tears were visible upon his cheeks. That was it, enough was enough. I stalked over and grabbed the receiver from his hand.

"What the hell did you people say to him?"

The voice of Rupert Giles informed me, "We told him that his father was gone. Take care of him if you would, Lilah. Please. And I hope to talk to you at a later, happier time." The line went dead and I threw the receiver to the floor in disgust, glaring down at it.

Wesley touched my shoulder. "It's all right, Lilah. Seriously. I... it's like a great weight has been lifted from me. Today is about new starts for both of us, my love. Please, I truly am fine."

I didn't believe that he was fine, as his voice was far from normal, but maybe the new start thing could be true. If we let it be.

"You're crying," I pointed out, and he snorted quietly, wiping his hands over his cheeks.

"I didn't say I wasn't feeling emotional, just that I was fine. And I am." He lent forward and kissed me softly on the lips before moving back again.

I asked, "So you want soup? A hug? Or what? You know how much I suck at this nurturing crap."

He laughed, but it sounded a little too close to a sob for my liking. "Some good food followed by rough sex with the woman I love will be just perfect, Lilah," he assured me.

 

----====Wesley====----

I mopped up the last of the hearty broth with the crusty bread. It had been a surprisingly farmhouse meal for Lilah; goodness knows where she had conjured it up from. We were sat at her table and I was still dressed in only my bathrobe, as she had told me with a smirk that I was allowed not to dress for dinner.

A pleasant warmth was spreading out from my belly; the broth had definitely been comfort food. Lilah was nowhere near as bad at nurturing as she thought. As she thought I thought, since she had read my opinion of her abilities on the 'blog'.

But opinions change. All things change.

My father had died today, and while there were many emotions that I *should* have been feeling, I was, in fact, feeling cosy and luxurious and looking forward to further cosseting from Lilah with a cat-like relish.

I was happy.

And I refused to spoil this feeling by analysing why, as the reasons were undoubtedly unhealthy and grounds for substantial therapy, and at this moment I just didn't want to know.

And, of course, the words of Maezritel were still chanting softly in my brain. Making everything make sense.

I was concerned about Rupert, and I thought I would call him tomorrow and try to reassure him further. I'd have to find out more details anyway, so I could decide what to tell my mother when I contacted her. I needed to telephone Spike too and let him know how well everything had gone, but not now. Now was for my beautiful Lilah and me. She loved me.

She loved me. I put my spoon in my bowl and pushed it away. I watched her hungrily across the table as she finished her own meal. She smiled at me, at first with affection, but then wickedly as she realised my current desires, and she began to unnaturally extend her consumption of the last few drops of broth.

"Bitch," I murmured fondly, and her grin grew wider. She managed to find a crumb of bread on her side plate and began to wipe it around the inside of the bowl. I stood and walked over. Taking the bowl from her hands, I perched myself where it had once sat.

She licked her spoon clean and then played the cool metal along the exposed skin of my legs, sticking out from the loosely fastened bathrobe. "I'm still hungry," she pouted. I raised an eyebrow, as if the answer to her problem was obvious, as if, in fact, it was right in front of her face.

She leant back and stretched, giving me a calculating look. "I suppose you think a touch of fellatio would be just what the doctor ordered for dessert."

"Oh yes, well known for its therapeutic effects."

Her hand touched my leg and nails were gently dragged up my inner thigh. I shifted on the table to be more directly in front of her. "You're taking a lot for granted, Wes."

"I am?"

"Perhaps I don't want to." The nails moved across my balls, circling and barely touching, and I shuddered, sitting up very straight.

In a tense voice, I answered, "Then we do something else." Nails changed to fingertips lightly stroking.

"Perhaps I *do* want to," she smiled, opening my robe completely with one hand, and cupping my balls in her other warm palm, squeezing lightly.

I laughed raggedly. "Whatever Lilah wants, Lilah gets. Especially when her hand... oh lord."

She had firmly encircled my cock with her robe opening hand. I leant heavily back on my arms and lifted my feet to squeeze on either side of her arse on the chair. She lent forward. As her lips touched me, I groaned.

She licked all around the tip of my cock like a child with an ice cone and then blew softly. Oh, now was not the time for teasing, not when I was watching her head move above me so wantonly, not when her hair was stroking my belly. "Lilah," I whispered. "Please." She laughed and her breath hit my cock in tiny cool puffs. "Please. I need this," I begged.

"What do you need?" she purred.

"You. You, Lilah, my Lilah. Please."

"Tell me what you want." She planted a kiss where my cock met my balls and then, holding me rigid with her hand, licked firmly up to the very tip.

I whimpered. "Oh. Oh lord. Take me into your mouth. Please, Lilah."

"You're in love with my damn name," she snorted, and she opened her mouth and took me inside.

I tipped my head back and tried to breathe.

Her mouth was wet and hot, and the suction was a taut pull on my flesh. A tight circle of lips moved up and down while an undulating tongue teased at the underside of my cock. Hands moved unceasingly all over the most sensitive portions of me. "Lilah," I moaned, "Lilah."

I balanced on one hand so that I could lift her hair from her face. I wanted to see myself slip in and out of those perfect lips, glistening with her saliva. And I did see exactly that, but I also saw a face in pain. Concerned, I moved her from me with a hand to her cheek, and I sat up straight.

"What's wrong, my love?"

She sat back and wiped her lips on the back of her hand. "It's my back," she confessed with a grimace, wriggling and stretching her sore muscles. "Linwood hit hard. Hope the bastard's having fun in the puzzle box dimension."

I frowned. "I'm sorry, this was thoughtless of me. Let's go up to bed." I slipped off the table and took her hand. "Perhaps a massage would help?"

"I'm getting clean before you get to touch me, Wes. I stink of your damn atomiser chemical."

"Then to the bathroom we shall go," I smiled, and we walked up the stairs together, in my case rather woodenly. "Shower or bath?" I asked.

"Shower. It's quicker and then I want a soft mattress below me. Especially if I've got bony lovers above."

"Bony?" I inquired archly, as we entered the bathroom.

"Positively skeletal."

"I need a good woman to cook for me." I opined, slipping out of my robe and turning the water on in the shower cubicle.

A hand slipped down over and then under my arse, tickling sensitive skin. Lilah's voice said, "Better go find one then."

I turned to face her and began to undo her blouse. "You just cooked for me," I pointed out.

"Warming stuff up doesn't count," she said with a frown, letting her blouse slip off her arms.

The broth had been delicious. "It came like that?" I reached round and undid her bra fastening. It too slipped to the tiles.

"I may have added some burgundy," she admitted.

I smiled, "There, you see? Cooking. You cooked for me." I reached for her skirt fastening.

"I did not." She backed away from me, and undid the skirt herself.

I paused. "There is something wrong with cooking for me?"

"I'm not that kind of woman," Lilah answered primly, as if I'd accused her of some kind of dubious sexual activity. I was lost, but decided to drop the subject.

"Ok, we'll get an au pair," I grinned cheekily, kneeling so I could ease down her pantyhose and French knickers. I pressed my lips into the neat triangle of brown hair that I revealed. Her hand rested briefly on my head before she turned to enter the shower.

I inhaled sharply. Her back was a mass of dark bruising. "That bastard. Oh god, Lilah." I stood up and looked at her with concern.

She half turned and tried to look over her shoulder. "Is it bad?"

"Yes. It must hurt a lot, I'm sorry. Let's get some hot water on it." We both entered the cubicle and I slid the glass doors shut. They immediately began to steam over.

"You have bruises of your own," Lilah pointed out. "And a piece of flesh missing from your arm." It was true. The powerful jet spray had felt good on my minor injuries earlier, so hopefully it would help her too.

"I'm used to war wounds. You're not," I shrugged.

"No," she agreed thoughtfully. "The last time was Gavin, under the influence of young Mr Blim." I winced at the reference to Billy, and she echoed my expression as she realised what she'd said. "Hey," she said softly, stroking my face. "I got revenge for all of us there. No more Billy." She mimed a gun being shot at her head.

I didn't want to talk about it, so I pulled her close and kissed her as the hot water cascaded over us. After a while, she gently pushed me away. "Let me get clean," she said. She poured some shampoo into her hand and began to work it into her hair.

I smiled, and helped myself to shower gel. Ignoring the special exfoliating buffer thing she preferred, I used my bare hands to distribute the gel about her upper body, gently massaging as I went. If I paid a little more attention to certain parts of her than others, she didn't complain.

Suds slid wetly down her body, and moving with them, I sank to my knees onto the marble. I began to wash her legs, stroking my hands from her ankles to her hips. Lilah shifted to one side and water pounded down on the back of my neck. I shut my eyes and lifted my face to meet it, grinning.

"Jeez, Wes," she said, in a strange tone of voice. I moved out of the water and looked up at her curiously. There was an intense expression on her face - desire of course, but something more than that. Her hand lifted, and fingers curled in my hair, pulling me towards her.

Happily, I moved my hands to her hips and kissed the top of her patch of hair. She moved her hips towards me, and I allowed my tongue to snake out and between, teasing.

"Wes, how are your knees?" she asked, somewhat prosaically

I laughed, "They'll last a little longer." I pressed my mouth hard to her sex, wriggling my tongue about in what I hoped was a delightful way. Her moan suggested I was right, but she said,

"Bed, Wes, please. I know it's dull and conventional, but comfort sounds just fine today."

I stood up. "Are you in a lot of pain, Lilah? Would you like an Advil or two?"

She kissed me. "Just a mattress and silk sheets, and this inside me." Her hand stroked up my cock from balls to tip and I inadvertently thrust forward.

"Bed then," I growled. We left the shower, made a half-hearted attempt at getting dry, and stumbled to her bedroom and those sensual silk satin sheets that she preferred.

As soon as I was sure she was comfortably settled, I began to move down her body again, to continue what I had started in the shower. Her hold strengthened on my back. "No, Wes. I want convention, remember?"

"Missionary?" I asked with a laugh, and she nodded.

"Yes. Normal is kink for us, I think. I want to be normal tonight, just this once. Let's be adventurous, darling," she grinned.

I settled myself between her legs and pressed my mouth to hers. Whatever Lilah wanted, Lilah got. She raised her legs up to each side of me and I pressed in, exhaling slowly as I gradually buried myself as deeply as I could go. Lord, so good.

As it seemed to be what she needed tonight, I moved slowly, prolonging every trust, and kissing her romantically all the while. It was strange, so unlike our normal lovemaking that it did indeed feel somehow perverted and a little wrong. Part of me hoped she would quickly tire of this and demand our usual rough and passionate intensity, but some of me was revelling in every second of this softness.

Our coupling was taking on the profound numinosity of an encounter with a rare animal in the wild, or another natural wonder.

I whispered gently into her ear, "Am I allowed to use my hands?"

Her eyes were shut. She held me down on top of her. "No, just this. I just want this. Please."

And so I continued with my slow, deep pushes, pausing every moment that passion threatened to take me. I lost track of time in the unnatural rhythm, entering a state of consciousness reminiscent of being drugged. My gaze never left her face below me, which seemed full of some kind of transporting rapture. She began to move beneath me, writhing sensually on the sheets, and she made little mewling sounds that made me want to take her hard and now. But somehow I kept control.

She began to pant, her eyes still tightly shut, and to murmur my name like a mantra. "Wes, Wes, Wes, Wes..." and then simply. "Mine."

"Yes, yours," I agreed huskily, kissing her neck. "Yours completely."

Her eyes opened and locked to mine, and with a hint of the Lilah I more usually bedded, her muscles squeezed wickedly around my cock, causing me to gasp and thrust hard. I immediately stopped moving in order to regain composure.

"Don't stop," she said, half plea and half command.

"Can't go slow any more," I grunted.

"Just don't stop," she laughed breathily, and so I fucked her.

Hard, deep, unstopping, possessing - I was making her mine, stamping her as my property. Making her wail my name and dig her nails into my back as if she were afraid of falling. Making her push up to meet me, crying "Wes, Wes, mine, don't stop, don't ever stop!"

And suddenly there were words on my tongue - dangerous, terrible words - and I spoke them.

"Lilah, will you be my wife?"

And she was bucking beneath me crying, "Yes, yes, yes, yes..." and I didn't know if she was answering me or just having the best orgasm of her life. And I felt either would be just fine, as I lost myself to my own appalling pleasure.

 

----====Lilah====----

Wes was asleep beside me, in post-coital exhaustion. The bastard had proposed to me, of all things. And I'd said 'yes'. I wondered if I could claim to have not heard the question, lost in a mind-blowing climax as I had been. But he would know I'd only started to come *after* he asked, and anyway, I really didn't want to escape *this* contract.

But still, what a bastard.

I laughed quietly to myself, and slipped out of bed. I wasn't tired. I put on my silk robe and headed downstairs for the living room where I poured myself a large cognac and sat down on the sofa, intending to chill with my thoughts, trying to put the pieces of today together into a meaningful whole.

I noticed the Hell-lord's contract resting on the side table with my keys and cell phone. For some time I watched it, as if I expected it to do a merry devil's dance or something. Then curiosity got the better of me, and I slid it out from under the other things and lay back on the couch to peruse it.

Several hours later, I had finished my third detailed read through, and I was feeling very... stressed? Frustrated? Conflicted? There really wasn't a word strong enough for what I felt. I stared at the front page of the contract. The amazing, everything I had thought I'd ever wanted, and free from any kind of unpleasant clauses, contact. Lilah Morgan, Division President, Special Projects - I could just hear the minions introducing me.

Hell-lords certainly fucking understood temptation.

The money alone would make this my best offer ever, and that was without the power, status, fringe benefits and ultimate one-upmanship to every asshole male in the whole of Wolfram and Hart, Earth division. I wanted this. I *really* wanted this.

But did I want it more than I wanted Wes? As I couldn't see how I could possibly have both.

I found I was sobbing with the pain of the choice that was in front of me, and I didn't know whether to curse the frump-lord for offering me this, Wes for making me love him, or myself for being so fucking weak.

So like every other useless female in shackles to their fucking man.

Suddenly furious, I strode upstairs and threw the contract at Wesley who was snoring gently. He woke with a small gasp and blinked as he tried to work out what was what.

"Lilah?" he asked groggily as he sat up.

"I hate you."

"Hmm, ok. What's going on?" He noticed the thick sheaf of white paper on the bed beside him, and picked it up. "Is it about this?" I didn't answer as I could feel tears coming again and that was making me even more pissed.

He smoothed out the first page and read it. "Are you afraid of losing me?" he asked softly.

"Why?" I asked, suddenly afraid. "Are you leaving?"

He laughed. "I rather thought I was going to marry you, you silly girl."

"Even if I take this job? *Evil* law firm, remember?"

He got out of bed and walked over to me, taking my face between his hands. "Lilah. You have to do what *you* want to do, and not what anyone else thinks you should. It's your decision. I won you the right to a free choice and so I am damned if I'm going to dictate what it should be now."

"But..." I started. He kissed me silent, and then said,

"If you sign the contract then, well, it's hardly going to be easy for us. I imagine we will both be in for a great deal of pain. But I will love you and want you as my wife no matter what you decide. I am far too deeply in love with you to make the correct and moral decision anymore."

I looked at him searchingly for a long time while he gazed passionately back, stroking my face and neck, and then I surrendered to the awe-inspiring weirdness of the last twenty-four hours and just relaxed. I didn't know yet what I would decide about the Wolfram and Hart offer, but there was one contact I knew I wanted to finalise. I snuggled close to his chest and said,

"So, let's choose the rings tomorrow. I insist on Tiffany's of course."

 

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