Title: Pinnacle of the Temple
Author: Angel the Part-time Succubus (Angelia Sparrow)
Email: valarltd@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13, reminescence of male smut
Summary: Lindsay gets acclimated to his new office at Wolfram and Hart
Spoilers: All of A:TS, season 1, Lindsay/Angel
Disclaimer: These are not my characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and WB.
I receive no monetary gain for these stories.
Distribution: Any and all. You want it, you got it.
Feedback: Here's where I get paid, in applause. If we poor shadows have offended, think but this
and all is mended, etc
*****
The Pinnacle of the Temple
c 2000, Angelia Sparrow
*****
Again the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world
and their splendor. "All this I will give you," he said, 'if you will bow down and worship me." --
Matthew 4:8-9. NIV
***
Lindsay looked out the window of his new office, watching the lights of the traffic far below. He
settled into the fragrant leather of the chair, tenting his fingers contemplatively. Six figures a year,
full bennies. Life was good. The sharecropper boy who had lost two sibs to influenza and
pneumonia was long gone, regardless of what dreams haunted his sleep, regardless of the
pulmonary weakness that still stole his breath at the gym and after four flights of stairs..
A partner in LA's most prestigious law firm, and all because he had stepped out of line. It could
have been so much worse. He inhaled the scent of new carpet, knowing it had been laid because
blood and brains, Lee's blood and brains, never come out.
The warm masculine smell of the leather enveloped him as he leaned back, bringing steepled
fingers to his lips. The small child's voice in the far reaches of his mind chanted "Here is the
church, here is the steeple, open the doors and see all the people. Steeples, spires, pinnacles, and
an older voice whispering about seeing all the kingdoms of the world from the pinnacle of the
temple. But that wasn't quite right.
Lindsay banished the thoughts by flipping through the new Rolodex. Half-forgotten, he saw a
card with the stylized wings on it, and thought of Angel. The vampire had been so helpful, and
the children had been kept safe. Ten years ago or even five, Lindsay would never have allowed
his thoughts to drift, or linger as they were.
The heavy jaw, the brooding forehead, the perfect dark hair, the large hands. He breathed deeper
of the chair's scent, shut his eyes and imagined it was the smell of the black leather duster the
vampire preferred. He had given up so much on the road to the top, and a normal family life was
one of those things. In Angel, he had found someone even lonelier, and for a brief night they had
banished the loneliness.
He sighed and turned his attention back to the window, wondering if vampires really could climb
headfirst down a wall like lizards as Stoker had said. But no handsome figure in a long coat was
peering back at him.
Lindsay filed the business card, rose, and locked his door. Returning to his chair, he let memory
overwhelm him, and ignored the voice talking of prices and paying the piper.
*end*
Author: Angel the Part-time Succubus (Angelia Sparrow)
Email: valarltd@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13, reminescence of male smut
Summary: Lindsay gets acclimated to his new office at Wolfram and Hart
Spoilers: All of A:TS, season 1, Lindsay/Angel
Disclaimer: These are not my characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and WB.
I receive no monetary gain for these stories.
Distribution: Any and all. You want it, you got it.
Feedback: Here's where I get paid, in applause. If we poor shadows have offended, think but this
and all is mended, etc
*****
The Pinnacle of the Temple
c 2000, Angelia Sparrow
*****
Again the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world
and their splendor. "All this I will give you," he said, 'if you will bow down and worship me." --
Matthew 4:8-9. NIV
***
Lindsay looked out the window of his new office, watching the lights of the traffic far below. He
settled into the fragrant leather of the chair, tenting his fingers contemplatively. Six figures a year,
full bennies. Life was good. The sharecropper boy who had lost two sibs to influenza and
pneumonia was long gone, regardless of what dreams haunted his sleep, regardless of the
pulmonary weakness that still stole his breath at the gym and after four flights of stairs..
A partner in LA's most prestigious law firm, and all because he had stepped out of line. It could
have been so much worse. He inhaled the scent of new carpet, knowing it had been laid because
blood and brains, Lee's blood and brains, never come out.
The warm masculine smell of the leather enveloped him as he leaned back, bringing steepled
fingers to his lips. The small child's voice in the far reaches of his mind chanted "Here is the
church, here is the steeple, open the doors and see all the people. Steeples, spires, pinnacles, and
an older voice whispering about seeing all the kingdoms of the world from the pinnacle of the
temple. But that wasn't quite right.
Lindsay banished the thoughts by flipping through the new Rolodex. Half-forgotten, he saw a
card with the stylized wings on it, and thought of Angel. The vampire had been so helpful, and
the children had been kept safe. Ten years ago or even five, Lindsay would never have allowed
his thoughts to drift, or linger as they were.
The heavy jaw, the brooding forehead, the perfect dark hair, the large hands. He breathed deeper
of the chair's scent, shut his eyes and imagined it was the smell of the black leather duster the
vampire preferred. He had given up so much on the road to the top, and a normal family life was
one of those things. In Angel, he had found someone even lonelier, and for a brief night they had
banished the loneliness.
He sighed and turned his attention back to the window, wondering if vampires really could climb
headfirst down a wall like lizards as Stoker had said. But no handsome figure in a long coat was
peering back at him.
Lindsay filed the business card, rose, and locked his door. Returning to his chair, he let memory
overwhelm him, and ignored the voice talking of prices and paying the piper.
*end*