Lilah strides towards the Wolfram and Hart elevator trying to maintain her
outward composure. She's determined to present a serene mask to the world.
She knows that any crack in her defense could be the death of her,
literally. After the kind of meeting she's just had, she needs an extra
long hot shower and a stiff drink. Two stiff drinks. To celebrate the fact
she's survived another day at the office. Just.
Lindsey catches up with her as she steps into the elevator. "Not so fast..." he mutters, thrusting his good arm though the closing doors causing them to spring open again. Lilah eyes him balefully as he enters compartment, and resumes pushing the buttons on the elevator panel with a little more force than usual
"What the hell did you think you were doing back there?" Lindsey rounds on her. "You nearly cost us that contract. "
Lilah lets out a derisive little snort in reply. "Hey, if I hadn't stepped in when I did, we'd have both been headed for early retirement and you know it." She turns and faces him, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. She's surprised at how much her hands are still shaking from their confrontation with the Gveldt demon: its single lidless eye had followed her every move, searing into her back as she'd left the conference room. " I did what I had to do, considering what was at stake."
Lindsey leans past her abruptly and pushes the button for his own floor. "The next time you decide to sacrifice a random employee, without consulting me..." The threat is clear in the tone of his voice. "It was Randall or us, Lindsey." Lilah fires back. "I didn't see you offering up any alternatives at the time."
There's a momentary silence, neither willing to give an inch. Then Lilah allows a smirk to play across her face as she reaches up and lightly caresses his silk tie. "Be nice, I took a gamble and it paid off. Don't tell me you're getting all soft now."
Lindsey captures her fingers with his own, and she feels an involuntary thrill at the unexpected touch. He regards them for a moment before replying coldly. "They've still got blood on them. You should wash that off."
Stung by the callousness of his words, she jerks her hand away, then just as quickly hides her ire with another smirk. "Considering I just saved our collective asses, I think you could show a little more gratitude."
Lindsey punches the button for the elevator to stop. "If you think I'm going to get down on bended knee and kiss your feet, Lilah, you're sadly mistaken. And since we are in share mode, for the record, your charm, it ain't working on me. You'd have better luck with that Gveldt demon." He depresses the button again for the elevator to resume, but Lilah halts it this time with a jab at the panel.
"Kiss my feet? Why don't you kiss my ass! I'm tired of you riding me." Lilah spits out bitterly, her resentment rising to the surface . " Don't you think I know you are the golden boy, the one they are grooming for bigger and brighter things. I'm the one working my butt off here, I'm the one getting my hands dirty for this firm, where's the blood on your hands? What have you sacrificed?" Grabbing his arm, she is jolted by the feel of something hard and inflexible in her grasp. Through the silk fabric of Lindsey's sleeve, Lilah's fingers can feel the join between living flesh and Lindsey's prosthetic hand, inanimate, rigid to her touch.
He recoils and for a split second she's sure he's about to hit her with it, but instead he lifts the limb and gently strokes it across her face, the stiff fingers tracing her cheek. "Sacrifice. You ask me about sacrifice." Lilah shudders at the touch, impersonal and yet oddly intimate. "If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost fool myself into feeling something. Almost."
There's a crack in his voice, a yearning she has never heard before. He lowers the hand to her collarbone, caressing the hollows of her throat. She holds her breath, tensing at the strange sensation and yet also aroused by it. When she doesn't flinch away, he steps in closer.
"Does this make you feel anything but disgust, loathing?" The bitterness in Lindsey's tone causes her to lock gazes with him, and for the first time she sees the pain etched into his features, the fear. He's just as afraid as she is, of losing control, losing himself, losing his soul. It touches a cord in her, that he has let her see that much.
In response she takes his prosthetic and raises it slowly and deliberately to her lips, slipping the digits into her mouth, probing the fingers with her tongue. Lindsey lets out a sigh, his eyes never leaving her face. Lilah takes the thumb into her mouth, enclosing the shaft and sucking gently as she withdraws. Although the thing she is caressing is cold, and utterly devoid of life, she feels a stirring within her core, a heady rush of desire. Is it pity that moves her, or the giddiness of having cheated death one more time?
Before Lilah can over-analyse the experience, Lindsey roughly pulls his hand away and crushes her against the wall of the elevator, his body pressing against her in such delicious ways. She can feel his arousal, the hardness of him, and almost chuckles at this one small triumph. Then his mouth is claiming hers, hungrily, unforgiving. She responds in kind, demanding just as much in return. She can feel the heat rising between them, and gasps at the exquisite ache building within her. Driven by need, she clutches at his clothes, tearing at them, trying to get at the naked skin beneath the garments. Similarly, his good hand unceremoniously pulls up the hem of her skirt, stroking her inner thigh, moving ever upwards, eliciting a moan from her lips that is stifled with another breathless kiss.
If he is surprised to find she is wearing a delicate piece of lace frippery, he does not show it, and caresses her skin teasingly in a way that makes her tremble. Sensitive fingers stroking her, insistent, probing. Then he shifts himself, readjusts his position and suddenly she feels his other hand pressing against her tender flesh. This time the sensation is one of cold unyielding rigidity. The contrast causes an involuntary gasp, a heightening of her excitement.
"Can you feel me?" Lindsey whispers hoarsely in her ear. Then the artificial fingers are slipping inside of her, making her pant and squirm, reaching those places that feel so good, so right. She arches towards him, straining to meet the rhythm of his hand, his dead hand.
"Yes," She breathes, forcing out the words. "I can feel you."
Then his mouth is on hers again, taking her breath away, making her want to devour every inch of him. His pace quickens, the thrusting becomes more forceful and she finds it harder to keep silent, to stop from crying out in pleasure.
She notices that he too is breathing more shallowly, his face flushed with exertion and when she lowers her head to nuzzle at his exposed neck with her lips and tongue, he gives out a groan that leaves no doubt to his own arousal. She bites at his neck playfully, digging her fingernails into his back mercilessly as he pushes into her, until finally she cannot stand it anymore and grinds against him, clinging to him reflexively as her body pulsates to a shuddering climax. They stay like that for several moments, entangled with each other, his hand still inside her, their hearts clamoring together.
Then Lindsey pulls away, reaching once more for the elevator panel, setting it in motion. Lilah pulls herself upright, and adjusts her skirt, smoothing down the creases in it. He straightens his tie and combs his fingers through his tousled hair.
The bell jingles and the elevator comes to a stop. The doors trundle open and a mailroom clerk enters with a trolley. Lindsey nods to the clerk and then departs with nary a glance back at her. Just as the doors are closing though, Lilah hears him say distinctly: "Don't say I was never grateful..."
She leans back and grins in response, a genuine self-satisfied smile for once. Her body is still humming from his touch, tingling in all the right places. Maybe she'll have a bath instead. Indulge herself. She's earned it.
Meanwhile, the clerk shuffles through his mail, his eyes nervously flicking to her hands every now and then.
Yes. She's definitely earned it.
Lindsey catches up with her as she steps into the elevator. "Not so fast..." he mutters, thrusting his good arm though the closing doors causing them to spring open again. Lilah eyes him balefully as he enters compartment, and resumes pushing the buttons on the elevator panel with a little more force than usual
"What the hell did you think you were doing back there?" Lindsey rounds on her. "You nearly cost us that contract. "
Lilah lets out a derisive little snort in reply. "Hey, if I hadn't stepped in when I did, we'd have both been headed for early retirement and you know it." She turns and faces him, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. She's surprised at how much her hands are still shaking from their confrontation with the Gveldt demon: its single lidless eye had followed her every move, searing into her back as she'd left the conference room. " I did what I had to do, considering what was at stake."
Lindsey leans past her abruptly and pushes the button for his own floor. "The next time you decide to sacrifice a random employee, without consulting me..." The threat is clear in the tone of his voice. "It was Randall or us, Lindsey." Lilah fires back. "I didn't see you offering up any alternatives at the time."
There's a momentary silence, neither willing to give an inch. Then Lilah allows a smirk to play across her face as she reaches up and lightly caresses his silk tie. "Be nice, I took a gamble and it paid off. Don't tell me you're getting all soft now."
Lindsey captures her fingers with his own, and she feels an involuntary thrill at the unexpected touch. He regards them for a moment before replying coldly. "They've still got blood on them. You should wash that off."
Stung by the callousness of his words, she jerks her hand away, then just as quickly hides her ire with another smirk. "Considering I just saved our collective asses, I think you could show a little more gratitude."
Lindsey punches the button for the elevator to stop. "If you think I'm going to get down on bended knee and kiss your feet, Lilah, you're sadly mistaken. And since we are in share mode, for the record, your charm, it ain't working on me. You'd have better luck with that Gveldt demon." He depresses the button again for the elevator to resume, but Lilah halts it this time with a jab at the panel.
"Kiss my feet? Why don't you kiss my ass! I'm tired of you riding me." Lilah spits out bitterly, her resentment rising to the surface . " Don't you think I know you are the golden boy, the one they are grooming for bigger and brighter things. I'm the one working my butt off here, I'm the one getting my hands dirty for this firm, where's the blood on your hands? What have you sacrificed?" Grabbing his arm, she is jolted by the feel of something hard and inflexible in her grasp. Through the silk fabric of Lindsey's sleeve, Lilah's fingers can feel the join between living flesh and Lindsey's prosthetic hand, inanimate, rigid to her touch.
He recoils and for a split second she's sure he's about to hit her with it, but instead he lifts the limb and gently strokes it across her face, the stiff fingers tracing her cheek. "Sacrifice. You ask me about sacrifice." Lilah shudders at the touch, impersonal and yet oddly intimate. "If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost fool myself into feeling something. Almost."
There's a crack in his voice, a yearning she has never heard before. He lowers the hand to her collarbone, caressing the hollows of her throat. She holds her breath, tensing at the strange sensation and yet also aroused by it. When she doesn't flinch away, he steps in closer.
"Does this make you feel anything but disgust, loathing?" The bitterness in Lindsey's tone causes her to lock gazes with him, and for the first time she sees the pain etched into his features, the fear. He's just as afraid as she is, of losing control, losing himself, losing his soul. It touches a cord in her, that he has let her see that much.
In response she takes his prosthetic and raises it slowly and deliberately to her lips, slipping the digits into her mouth, probing the fingers with her tongue. Lindsey lets out a sigh, his eyes never leaving her face. Lilah takes the thumb into her mouth, enclosing the shaft and sucking gently as she withdraws. Although the thing she is caressing is cold, and utterly devoid of life, she feels a stirring within her core, a heady rush of desire. Is it pity that moves her, or the giddiness of having cheated death one more time?
Before Lilah can over-analyse the experience, Lindsey roughly pulls his hand away and crushes her against the wall of the elevator, his body pressing against her in such delicious ways. She can feel his arousal, the hardness of him, and almost chuckles at this one small triumph. Then his mouth is claiming hers, hungrily, unforgiving. She responds in kind, demanding just as much in return. She can feel the heat rising between them, and gasps at the exquisite ache building within her. Driven by need, she clutches at his clothes, tearing at them, trying to get at the naked skin beneath the garments. Similarly, his good hand unceremoniously pulls up the hem of her skirt, stroking her inner thigh, moving ever upwards, eliciting a moan from her lips that is stifled with another breathless kiss.
If he is surprised to find she is wearing a delicate piece of lace frippery, he does not show it, and caresses her skin teasingly in a way that makes her tremble. Sensitive fingers stroking her, insistent, probing. Then he shifts himself, readjusts his position and suddenly she feels his other hand pressing against her tender flesh. This time the sensation is one of cold unyielding rigidity. The contrast causes an involuntary gasp, a heightening of her excitement.
"Can you feel me?" Lindsey whispers hoarsely in her ear. Then the artificial fingers are slipping inside of her, making her pant and squirm, reaching those places that feel so good, so right. She arches towards him, straining to meet the rhythm of his hand, his dead hand.
"Yes," She breathes, forcing out the words. "I can feel you."
Then his mouth is on hers again, taking her breath away, making her want to devour every inch of him. His pace quickens, the thrusting becomes more forceful and she finds it harder to keep silent, to stop from crying out in pleasure.
She notices that he too is breathing more shallowly, his face flushed with exertion and when she lowers her head to nuzzle at his exposed neck with her lips and tongue, he gives out a groan that leaves no doubt to his own arousal. She bites at his neck playfully, digging her fingernails into his back mercilessly as he pushes into her, until finally she cannot stand it anymore and grinds against him, clinging to him reflexively as her body pulsates to a shuddering climax. They stay like that for several moments, entangled with each other, his hand still inside her, their hearts clamoring together.
Then Lindsey pulls away, reaching once more for the elevator panel, setting it in motion. Lilah pulls herself upright, and adjusts her skirt, smoothing down the creases in it. He straightens his tie and combs his fingers through his tousled hair.
The bell jingles and the elevator comes to a stop. The doors trundle open and a mailroom clerk enters with a trolley. Lindsey nods to the clerk and then departs with nary a glance back at her. Just as the doors are closing though, Lilah hears him say distinctly: "Don't say I was never grateful..."
She leans back and grins in response, a genuine self-satisfied smile for once. Her body is still humming from his touch, tingling in all the right places. Maybe she'll have a bath instead. Indulge herself. She's earned it.
Meanwhile, the clerk shuffles through his mail, his eyes nervously flicking to her hands every now and then.
Yes. She's definitely earned it.