Enemy Lovers
by
Princess McPhee
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author's Note: This was inspired by the last Angel episode (4/15/02). I saw the way Lilah looks at him, and I saw this. If anyone else saw this, I'd be interested to know. *hint hint*
Summary: Sometimes things you do are just unexplainable. Vignette, Angel/Lilah.
Rating: Hard R
Sometimes, it just all gets to them. He, because guilt piles up and no matter how much you do to counter your sins, the good deeds never quite pile up the same as the bad. She, because as much as she really doesn't care about who gets hurt in most of her dealings, every once in a while humanity breaks through, and she cracks. Even if she doesn't have a conscience, she still has emotions, and those weigh heavily enough on ones' soul without ever thinking about the atrocities one commits.
And she does have a soul, as much as she would like not to.
It's funny, these two beings. One who will fight tooth, nail and undead existence for his soul, the other who was born with one and still has it, but wants nothing to do with it. She goes to him, hoping to get a glimpse of the monster he used to be, and he goes to her, hoping to get a glimpse of the person she used to be. But neither ever see what they're looking for, so they continue these secret meetings and screw until their brains are ready to ooze out of their ears.
She likes it rough. It replaces some of the emotional pain of living with physical pain that reminds her only of euphoric release, something that makes her feel like she's released from not only her sexual tension, but her life for a moment. A split second. She never thinks about it any other time, but during the sweet afterglow, as much as they both pretend it doesn't exist, things go through her head that she locks away deep in the crevices of her mind during her conscious time.
He dreams of being gentle and sweet, but he's a vampire, and as much as he tries to kiss and coddle, he ends up biting and grabbing. She never lets him bite when he's in his demon face, that would be much too noticeable. Instead, she lets him release his desire to bite when he's in his human face, and the teeth marks fade quickly, leaving only impressions in the skin and occasional blood, rather than jagged scars.
The places they go are always different. Underground parking garages, mostly, but never the same one. He comes through the sewers on foot and she borrows endless company cars, each one different. It would be too risky if they were found out, even though neither of them is in this for anything but the sex. The others wouldn't understand that.
Sometimes they do it in the car. Then, there's always condoms involved because it makes things less messy. Sometimes they do it in a deserted corner, which makes both of them come harder, because the risk of someone discovering them adds to their adrenaline rush. They are both thrill-seekers at heart, they just go about it different ways.
He pushes the limits of the world's tolerance, waiting to see where they'll break.
She pushes the limits of human law, seeing how long she can deceive it for.
Once, there was an elevator. They rode it up and down a bunch of times, seeing if anyone used it. No one got on, so they pressed the emergency lock and did it against the wall. Then an old lady needed a ride, and they straightened their clothes carefully, she put her makeup back on quickly, and the old lady never noticed a thing. He says they won't do it again, though. It's too risky.
Sometimes, they see other demons. The places they pick are secluded and out of the way, places that humans rarely wander into, which makes them good stomping grounds for the local supernatural boys. Every once in a while they find one that recognizes them and tries to collect them for the numerous bounties that are out on both of their heads. She never fights back, just waits for him to come rescue her. He always does.
She wonders why. She's nothing but another body to him, isn't she? The only reason they get together and don't try to kill each other is so they can screw. Why, then, does he defend her life?
She figures it's ingrained. Or maybe it would make him feel too guilty if he left her there to die, or worse. Or maybe he just wants to keep his fuck-toy alive. She knows he thinks of her like that. She doesn't mind, because she thinks of him that way, too. They're only just objects to the other, only things to play with and relieve some of the building tension of living so they don't explode.
They don't talk. Occasionally, one will tell the other where to meet next time, and every once in a while, there's a whispered word like 'harder' or 'faster'. But never anything else.
She wonders sometimes, what it would be like if they started to talk, and found out they were a lot alike. She has a sneaking suspicion they are, and sometimes, when her curiosity takes hold, she'd really like to know more about him. Sure she has files, boxes and boxes of them, but those are raw fact. She knows he has a soul. She'd like to know what he feels with it.
But whenever these thoughts creep into her head, she pushes them quietly away and goes right back to whatever she was doing. Because if she ever tried to reveal herself to him, they would get sloppy, and they'd be found out. Then they would be killed. Her, for treason, and him for whatever reason they could think of. There wouldn't actually be a reason, beyond that they'd finally caught him, but that would be enough.
When they're through, he always smoothes down her hair once, runs a finger along the edge of her left ear, and then leaves. Sometimes he tells her where to meet him, but always while they're still at it. Once they've both come, it's over, and their clothes go back on, he does this little ritual and leaves.
She always watches him go, and likes how he never stumbles, never falters, even though he must know she has her eye on him as far as he goes. She likes a lot of things about him. She admires him, too, but she likes him. If she didn't like him, she wouldn't stay. There are always others she could have, young men eager for a pay raise that she could easily grant.
But she likes the way he walks, always so sure of himself. And she likes the way he defends the people he loves, the way he's almost more human than she is. She's sure he'd say he was, if she asked.
She likes the way he doesn't play games, and knows her body better than she does. She likes how he never calls anyone's name when he comes, how he's not pretending things are the way they aren't. She likes the way he only really has one expression, and it's almost impossible to tell what he's thinking. She likes the way that one expression blossoms into hundreds as the tension builds between them, likes knowing she still has the power to do that to a man.
So they use each other. And they like it. And they do it again, and again and again, and she knows that someday she'll get killed for it, or she'll have to leave town like a certain partner of hers, but she does it anyway, because it's different.
And for a girl who has everything, she's awfully bored with her life.
There. She said it. Or at least, thought it without arguing with herself.
Lilah Morgan screws a souled vampire because she's bored.
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