A/N: Alright, a big thanks to Greywizard for helping beta-ing (It's a word now, deal with it). To everyone that reviewed, thanks. They really do speed up the process. Well, on with the story. This chapter is a little smaller than the rest but it begins to show what's up with Lindsey. Hope you guys enjoy and as always, let me know what you think.

Chapter 6

The white walls of the hospital room stared back at Lindsey.

He had been laid up in the private room for over a month, healing broken bones and other injuries he had sustained from that night with the Harris kid. Whatever his body couldn't do on its own, doctors had seen to and whatever the doctors couldn't...well, Wolfram and Hart certainly had an interesting health plan. None of that mattered, though. This was the last day that he was going to be spending in this damn bed, locked away from the rest of the world. He was being released with a clean bill of health from the doctors and only a few minor issues that couldn't be seen to. He'd deal with the aches and pains just fine, he didn't care about them right now. By his count, he had a few scores to settle and the sooner he could do that, the better.

It still amazed him what had happened. After the car crash caused by the bastard, Harris, he had woken up in the emergency room of Sunnydale General handcuffed to a bed. The local cops had arrested him pending an investigation into the events of that night. Manners had been taken into custody as well though he hadn't been admitted. The man must have had an angel on his shoulder that night. Well, more like a devil. One phone call to Holland and Lindsey had been cut loose from the cops and transferred to a private hospital that Wolfram and Hart had ties to, his name kept secret and strictly confidential, Holland's eyes only. Of course, that might not mean anything since part of being an employee at the firm was finding out things people tried to keep hidden, but it seemed to work. No one bothered or came after him the whole time he was in there.

The time on his back was spent going over everything that had happened, everything that had gone wrong. Holland never visited him, (And who could blame him, really) but he had sent over all of the documents that Lindsey had requested through a secure line. The drug that they had used was supposed to keep the kid paralyzed for six hours. No one had any explanation as to why it wore off in a little over five minutes, but word was that the R and D department had combined the normal paralytic with a mystical one to give it more potency. That whole department was now being re-staffed and redecorated. It was always easier to remodel than it was to scrub blood out of walls and floors.

A team had been sent in to keep tabs on Harris as well as the Slayers. The information was, again, Holland's eyes only. The issue with the Slayers was another monumental screw up. No one had any idea that there were two of them running around, let alone that both were in Sunnydale. The Slayer was always just one person, one girl. No one could have guessed that there could have been two of them. Of course, that didn't stop Holland from finding someone to blame and there was currently one more opening in Special Projects.

Flipping through the reports that he knew almost well enough to recite, Lindsey went over it all, again. Not just the events from that night, but everything they had on both Harris and the Avatar. Most of the stuff on Harris was basic information along with a few bits about his exploits after meeting the Slayer. What they had on the Avatar was even less substantial. Most of it was stories and legends written in various Asian languages that had to be translated several times. All in all, there wasn't a lot there but Lindsey would be damned if he would miss anything. He had already filled two notebooks with theories and ideas on how to either best go after Harris or how to get more information on the Avatar.

There was no mistaking it, Lindsey was driven. When he had first taken the assignment, what seemed like ages ago, he had thought it just another job, a way of moving up in the firm faster than he could have imagined but nothing more than that. Now, it was so much more. It was all he thought about, all he wanted. He dreamt of putting his hands around Harris's neck and squeezing every last bit of life out of him. After the firm got what they needed from him of course.

He had felt bad for the kid when he first met him. They had a similar upbringing, the same poor family and parents that were too drunk to really provide for them. The difference was that Lindsey had done something with himself while Harris had been heading for either the same fate as his parents or working a string of dead end jobs and being worthless. Hell, if this thing with the Avatar hadn't come along, Lindsey doubted that the kid would have done anything meaningful with his life except get himself killed by some vampire that the Slayer was fighting.

A knock at the door brought Lindsey out of his thoughts.

"Sir," Lindsey said sitting up straight in the bed as he watched Holland Manners enter his room. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

Holland smiled at Lindsey. "Well, I thought with you being released today, it was the least I could do. After all, you did save my life."

"Just doing my job, sir."

"Oh, we both know that isn't true," Holland told him closing the door. "There, we should have a bit more privacy. Rooms are enchanted to keep anyone from listening in. Wonderful little spell. The firm won't spend the money to do the offices, though. Cyvus Vail's services do not come cheap."

"Hard to believe they spent the money on a hospital, isn't?"

"Oh, well it wasn't always a hospital. Back in the early nineteen hundreds, this whole building was a system of interrogation rooms that were later decommissioned in the nineteen-fifties. Budget cuts."

Lindsey nodded his head slowly. It was slightly uncomfortable to know that where he was lying was only secure because no one wanted anyone to hear the firm torturing people, or rather, they didn't want anyone hearing whatever information they were getting.

"You seem to be doing quite well though. Doctors say you've made a full recovery," Holland said before glancing down at Lindsey's leg. "Well, almost. It's a real shame about the leg. The shaman said that by the time we got you transferred, there wasn't much that could be done about it."

Rubbing his right leg unconsciously, Lindsey frowned. The leg had been pinned between his seat and the front dashboard of the van. He'd walk with a permanent limp for the rest of his life, as well as leave him with a nasty scar. It was one more reason to hate Harris.

"Doc says I'm lucky to keep it. If it had been any longer, the lack of blood would have made them have to cut it off," Lindsey said distantly.

Holland smiled his tight, cold smile again, nodding his head. "I see you've been keeping busy, though. I don't suppose you've found anything useful in there, hmm?"

Lindsey was tempted to tell him about his ideas, but instead kept his mouth shut. It was always best to keep things close to the chest when dealing with anyone from Wolfram and Hart - especially your superiors. "Nothing much, sir. A few things that I'll be following up on, but I don't know if any of it will pan out. But don't worry, sir. We'll get Harris and nail his ass to the wall, trust me."

"Actually, Lindsey, that's what I'm here to talk to you about," Holland said slowly. "This whole...Avatar thing, it's gotten more complicated than I would have liked."

"Sir, don't tell me you're abandoning the project!" Lindsey exclaimed.

"No, I'm not. I'll get the Avatar, in time. But, you see, the last time brought more attention than I could afford. Certain...people started digging into it, people that I would rather didn't know anything till it was too late. It means that I'll have to be more careful with this, play things out a bit differently, you understand."

"You mean you want me to hold back on Harris? Bide our time?" Lindsey asked.

Shaking his head, Holland replied, "No, what I'm saying is that I don't want you anywhere near Alexander Harris, Lindsey."

"You're, what? Reassigning me?"

"Well, I can't very well reassign someone who doesn't work for the firm, can I?"

Lindsey's eyes went wide with the realization of what Holland meant. "You're cutting me loose?"

"Lindsey, don't act so surprised. You understood what was at stake here. After all, it was your idea to leave the firm, wasn't it? I can't very well welcome you back with open arms, not with how you left." Holland continued. "You understood the risks, Lindsey. You made yourself an enemy of the firm when you left. This little trip to hospital, the false name, the shaman doctors, well, consider it my way of saying thank you for your dedication."

Holland waited a moment for Lindsey to respond, but when he received none, he nodded his head and reached for the door.

"Oh, if I were you, Lindsey," he said as he paused in the doorway, "I'd consider leaving the city before nightfall. The state, if you can. It seems as if the firm received a tip on someone matching your description being in the city."

Without another word, Holland left, closing the door behind him. Lindsey stared down at the file in his hands, the file of the person who had taken everything from him. Harris had taken his job, his future, all in one night. With a growl of anger, Lindsey threw the papers against the wall.

It was all gone. How? How in hell did he go from having everything he had ever wanted to having nothing at all?

November 1st, 1997

Lindsey watched Holland as he sat at the head of the conference table. To the untrained eye, it looked as if he was listening to the briefing with the utmost interest. After all, it was his job to pay attention to his underling's cases and advise them in any way he saw fit. The Monday morning meetings were a vital part of the departments working.

Of course, all of that was bullshit.

The meetings were almost always a waste of time. The only thing they did was keep all of them up to date on just how good or bad everyone else was doing. In the shark infested waters that were Wolfram and Hart, that alone made it worth it. Though to Holland Manners, it probably meant next to nothing. Lindsey seriously doubted that the man was ever surprised by what he heard at these meetings and did them only to strengthen the animosity the lawyers felt towards one and other, that same animosity that drove them to outdo each other. Most of the time, Manners looked as if he was only listening with one ear, but today it was hard to tell if he was there at all.

Havenwood finished up her briefing on the racketeer that she was working on getting off, a case that could have been done in Lindsey's sleep. Thankfully, that was the last of it.

"OK, people. You all have a busy schedules so let's not waste any more time then we have to. Also, I expect monthly budget reports on my desk by the end of next week or else Dolores in accounting is going to start biting our heads off. I'm sure we don't want a repeat of what happened last year with Yasley. All of you are dismissed, except for you, Lindsay. Hang back a moment, would you?" Holland said, giving everyone else the cue to leave.

Lindsey watched as everyone filed out, including an irritated Lilah Morgan. He would have loved to silently gloat but he couldn't help but feel nervous. And he had every reason to be. Lindsey knew what had happened to some of the people that Holland had asked to stay behind. The carpet in the meeting room had been changed a lot of times over the past few years.

"Relax, Lindsay. Trust me, if you had done anything wrong, you wouldn't be standing here alone with me, would you now?" Holland smiled to Lindsey who returned it, if only half heartedly. "You're familiar with our psychic department, aren't you? Not just the ones you see, mind you. I mean the department as a whole."

"Uh, yes, sir. I'm aware of them. Can't say I know exactly what they work on all the time, though. As far as I know, they mostly monitor for anything that the firm might find useful. Prophesies, the coming of a particularly nasty demon lord that we don't care for, things like that." Lindsay tried to keep his confusion out of his eyes but he had a feeling that Holland could see it.

"Exactly," he nodded. "They don't just monitor for nonspecific things, though. We also have a team that is dialed in directly to certain contracts and deals that we've made over the years. Their job is to sit and wait for one of them to come to fruition and then let the appropriate parties know."

"I take it one of these contracts came through? One of the psychics sensed something?" Lindsay asked.

Smiling again, Holland seemed pleased to see that Lindsay was able to put it together. Not that it was particularly hard, mind you. "Precisely. In fact, from what I'm told, the only thing he was able to do was call it in to Contracts before the back of his head exploded. Nasty mess, but his family will be well compensated. Are you familiar with contract twenty-seven thirty-one?"

"Can't say that I am sir. I haven't had time to go through all the old records. I've been making head way on them, but there isn't a whole lot of down time here."

"Actually, it's one of the newer ones, just made up a month ago. Bailey wrote it up, in fact. Something that I set up as a long term investment that suddenly sprang up, literally, overnight."

"That's good, sir," Lindsay said hesitantly.

Sighing, Holland walked over to the table and removed a folder from his briefcase, handing it to Lindsay. "I want you to familiarize yourself with everything in this folder. Your other cases will be taken over for you. As of right now, you have no other work except this, Lindsay. It is of the upmost importance that this is taken care. Do you understand?"

Lindsay opened up the folder and scanned the first page. "You're joking, right, sir?"

Holland leaned back, his face serious. "I see nothing funny about what's in that folder, do you?"

"I thought the Hellmouth was off limits. Wilkins has his own contract with the firm going back a hundred years or so. How do you expect us to get in there and find," Lindsey looked back at the folder finding the right word, "an Avatar, without his knowing?"

"Lindsay, unless it's in our favor, any contract we draw up has a loophole we can exploit. I suggest you find one. You'll be given full access to any files regarding this case and whatever else you may need. This is your only priority, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Lindsay said grudgingly.

"Good," Holland gathered up the last bits of his papers and his briefcase and started for the door. "Oh, and Lindsey, do make sure you have your numbers in for the budget report by the end of the day. I want you started on this right away and I'd rather Dolores not came after us. I'd hate to have to try and find someone new to work on this."

January 25th, 1998

The past few months had passed by in something of a blur to Lindsay. He started to feel less like a lawyer and more like a detective. When he wasn't spending time combing through the lengthy, and rather wordy, contract the firm had with Richard Wilkins, he was following up on several other things having to do with the Avatar and everything that entailed. That meant tracking down Ethan Rayne, which was proving harder than it should have been. Without him, it was damn near impossible to determine who had been imbued with the power of the Avatar. All of this had to be done well outside of the limits of the Hellmouth and it would stay that way until he had worked out how to get around or through the legal strangle hold that was the Wilkins contract. Whoever had drawn it up had made sure that both sides couldn't interfere with the other without expressed permission from the other party, and doing that in this case would be out of the question.

It was driving him more than a little nuts. Every day he would come in, brief Holland on what he was up to, get reminded of how important it was, and then go back to work. All of this for something that would shoot Holland up the corporate ladder, or down, rather, considering this firm. He wasn't going to lie, though. Finishing this bit of business successfully would send his own already rising star soaring. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to have a friendly face as a Senior Partner should he ever need anything. It's just that he was a lawyer, even if it was in Special Projects, and he felt more comfortable in the courtroom than in this office all day or out on the streets looking for leads.

Still, there were some perks to his new duties.

For starters, he could lord his secret project over that bitch Lilah's head. Try as she might to find out what it was, she was stopped at every turn. Word is she had even been brought into Manners' office and threatened, in not so many words, to leave it alone. The fact that she had stopped her snide remarks and digs and kept to ice cold glares only helped give validity to that rumor. It wasn't everyday that there was something in the works at Wolfram and Hart that you couldn't find something on. But this project had been marked as above top secret. Holland didn't want to risk the wrong person hearing about it and trying to snatch his prize away from him. Also it wouldn't do any good if Wilkins heard about it, either. That would pretty much stop Lindsay's plan of finding some legal loophole in his tracks and more than likely stop him from doing much of anything else.

Along with his own personal gains with this case, he also had been given clearance to almost anything in Wolfram and Hart's files and all of their extensive resources. Any file that even hinted at providing help for him, Lindsay was able to access it. If it didn't have anything to do with it, all he had to do was give a good reason why he needed to take a look at it and Holland was more than willing to sign off on it. The things that Lindsay was finding out were more than enough to keep him up at night but he had to admit that it was exhilarating. The things the firm had done, the people that it was connected to, all of it was almost too much to be believed. The resources they had were insane as well.

He had known about the hit squads, the cleanup crews and enforcers that they might use to intimidate witnesses and whatever else they needed to do to win a case. The psychics and magic users was something he had known about ever since joining Special Projects but it was so much more than that. This case, for instance, touched on things that he never even thought possible.

Apparently there wasn't just a black market for the paranormal but also an inter-dimensional one as well. People and beings from other planes of existence and parallel worlds bartered and traded things that had made Lindsay's head hurt just thinking about. There were rules of course. For one thing, you couldn't get anything you wanted. Only things that you're world could handle. He didn't understand how the rules were enforced, but apparently whoever did the trading for their firm in that market either didn't know as well or didn't say, because it wasn't written down in any report that he had been able to find.

The staff, a simple wooden staff that doubled as a glider, was at the center of the whole contract that Holland had made. It had belonged to some being called 'The Avatar' from an alternate dimension, some big wig spiritual person that had power to boot. So much power, in fact, that Wolfram and Hart had taken notice. The staff in and of itself was pointless, a little trinket that was nothing but a souvenir at best. It was only after a little digging that Lindsey understood why they had paid so much for it.

When he had first read the file, Lindsay had been confused about what they had been trying to accomplish. Someone at the firm, in no way connected to Manners, of course, had hired some free range chaos mage, Rayne, to perform a spell. He was supposed to focus the spell on the staff so that whoever was holding it would become the embodiment of the Avatar. What they had hoped for was that whoever got hit with the spell would somehow retain whatever mojo the Avatar had and then pass it on when they died. Hopefully, at some point in the future, someone would have some spiritual awakening and be able to access the Avatar's abilities - at which point Wolfram and Hart would step in and groom the kid, using them just like they would anyone else they deemed powerful enough.

It was a good plan, if not without its holes.

The biggest one being Ethan Rayne.

Rayne was a self-described worshiper of chaos. He told the firm that he needed a place of power and energy flux. Everyone agreed to the general outline of the plan and then he went and disappeared, only to come back on the first of November saying that he went to the Hellmouth to perform his spell. All of the mages on payroll said that he had, in fact, cast the spell, but no one was able to locate who had ended up with the power. Not only couldn't they send in a team to try and track them down, but the magic from the Hellmouth kept them from trying long range locator spells. They only got a hit that first night because whatever energies the Avatar possessed were powerful enough to break through the mystical fog the Hellmouth created, even if it was just for a moment.

Unfortunately, by that time, Rayne had made off for parts unknown and seemed to be untraceable. He didn't even bother to take the check, which Lindsay figured made sense. A chaos mage didn't care about money. They dealt in power and the power that chaos brought them. Well, that and they'd be able to track him the moment he tried to cash it.

He was hitting dead ends everywhere he turned. Hell, they had even taken off the shoot on sight directive and the bounty on Rayne but still were having no luck. He was making even worse headway with the Wilkins contract. There was no way that any associate or even anyone that was an affiliate with Wolfram and Hart would be allowed to go into Sunnydale without stating their business before hand and clearing it with Wilkins. They couldn't even hire someone to go in there and look around, because they would be connected to the firm which made them fall under the guidelines of the contract.

The phone on his desk buzzed. Grabbing it, Lindsay answered with more anger then was probably necessary. "Yes?"

"There's someone on the line four for you, Mr. McDonald," the receptionist answered coolly. She had put up with a lot worse than an annoyed lawyer in her time and knew how to respond to all situations. "He says that it's important, but wouldn't give a name."

"Doreen, I don't have any cases. Why the hell would someone be calling me with something important, huh?" Lindsay was about ready to throw the phone against the wall. The receptionist, Doreen, was about to push him over the edge all for the sake of some idiotic phone call that was probably about a case that had been handed over to somebody else.

"Well, Mr. McDonald, I suppose that would be why he wishes to speak with you," Doreen replied in a perfectly civil tone, if not a little icy. "The man clearly has something important he can only talk to you about."

Growling in frustration, Lindsay slammed the phone down on the receiver but failed to hear any satisfying crack of plastic. Phones were a lot sturdier then people gave them credit for. Sure enough, line four blinked at him in its annoying little way. Rubbing his temple, and after taking a few calming breathes, Lindsay hit the button and connected to the waiting call.

"Lindsay McDonald," he said with as much neutrality as he could muster.

"Ah, Mister McDonald. I hear you've been looking for me." The voice was English, slightly cultured but with a swagger in the speaker's tone.

It was Rayne! He'd listened to the phone calls and recordings the firm made of him enough to recognize it anywhere.

"Ethan Rayne," Lindsay responded. "You're a hard man to find."

"Yes, well, when someone puts a bounty on your head, you tend to lay a bit low. It wasn't too bad, really. Something of a holiday."

Lindsay clenched his teeth. "Glad you enjoyed yourself. Why don't you come back to the office and I show you how much we've missed you."

"Now, now, Lindsay. Let's not start off on the wrong foot. Not when I have something that I think you'll be interested in." As Ethan spoke, Lindsay could almost imagine his smug, smiling face on the other end. "I'm proposing a deal, of sorts. One where everyone gets what they want."

"What could you possibly have that I want, Rayne? You told us that you didn't remember who you gave the staff to and you haven't exactly been willing to help us track down whoever is was. You'll excuse me if I don't buy your sudden willingness to help."

Lindsay had pressed the trace button on the phone but doubted he would get anything useful from it. Sure enough, the number that the display gave was the main number for the firm. Either Rayne was calling from inside the building or the trace had failed.

Rayne laughed on his end. "Come now, you didn't think that I would be that stupid, did you? I may not know the boys name, but I know for a fact the people that he associates with. An ace up my sleeve, if you will. Just in case, of course."

Lindsey's frustration grew. Rayne, if he wasn't toying with him outright, was certainly making a game of the conversation. There wasn't any way that he would be able to trust the chaos mage, but he also knew that he was the only person out there that had the answers he needed. There were too many damn problems when dealing with magic users, especially chaos mages. They never kept their word, or if they did, it was so twisted and distorted that it almost wasn't worth it. The firm only used them when they had no other choice, something Holland was likely to stay away from for the foreseeable future.

Not that any of that helped Lindsey at the moment.

Making the decision, Lindsey closed his eyes tight. "What do you want, Rayne?"

"Since you and your associates have been on my trail, things have hit a bit of a rut. A few of the more colorful...people that I owe money too have been getting impatient and they're a lot better at finding me than you are. Frankly, I need my money and I want your boys to put the word out that they don't want me, anymore."

"That it?"

"No," Ethan told him. "I also expect a ten percent increase to my original fee along with my name in good graces with Wolfram and Hart. In exchange, I won't just give you the boy. I'll help you get him, too."

"You make it sound so simple. We can't just run in and grab the kid. There's…complications."

"Oh, you have no idea how hard it might actually be. I'm afraid the boy has some rather interesting friends."

"What are we talking about, here? Don't tell me you gave the staff to some big player's kid."

"The boy is a nothing, or rather, he was. I can tell you that the one good thing is that he has no idea about what's happened to him, not yet. I would have known about it if he'd awakened the power of the Avatar."

"So what's the problem, then?" Lindsey demanded.

"The Slayer's located on the Hellmouth."

Silently cursing his luck, Lindsey suppressed the urge to throw the phone against the wall. The Slayer wasn't a problem, not really. She was just one girl. Enhanced strength and imbued with mystical energies, sure, but still just one girl. It was the damn Council - that was the problem.

The Council of Watchers had been around as long as Wolfram and Hart and had enough power and influence to make them a thorn in their side. As a general rule, the firm stayed away from anything having to do with the Council. It was the reason why Wolfram and Hart never went after the Slayer, either to get her to join them or to wipe her out if she got in the way.

"Great," Lindsey muttered. "You gave the power of the Avatar to someone linked to the Slayer."

"It seemed like a fun idea at the time," Ethan said without remorse.

"Yeah, well your 'fun idea' has royally screwed us! Give me one reason why I should help you? Why should I do anything except leave you out there to swing, huh?"

"Because," Ethan said with a breath. "Without me, you don't have a hope of getting to him. I know the Slayer, and her Watcher. I can get closer than you could ever hope."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but you can't. No one can."

With a sigh, Ethan said, "Don't tell me you're still stuck on that whole mess with Wilkins? I thought Wolfram and Hart lawyers were supposed to be smart?"

"How the hell do you know about that?"

"Do you honestly believe that you people, and I use that term loosely, hold the corner stone on dark and mysterious dealings? The world is a big place and there's a way to get anything, if you want it bad enough."

Ignoring how Ethan knew about the firm's contract with Wilkins, Lindsey asked, "What the hell would you do then, huh? No one that works for this firm can even look at Sunnydale without letting Wilkins know about."

Ethan paused and for some reason, Lindsay got the distinct impression that he was rolling his eyes.

"Then why don't you not work there?"

Present Day

Lindsey quickly pulled on his jeans as fast as he could without injuring himself. Holland's parting words were probably meant as part threat and part warning. He was never foolish enough to think that Holland ever cared about him as anything other than a tool. Still, he knew that Holland hadn't completely counted him out yet, hence the warning. If he had, Lindsey never would have made it out of Sunnydale with a pulse, much less to this hospital and have gotten patched up. Still, he needed to get out of town, fast.

The duffle bag in the closet only had one change of clothes in it and Lindsey was already wearing it. At least that made it easier to shove all of the files into it. Once he was sure he had everything he needed, Lindsey limped out of the hospital and hailed a taxi. He was pretty sure that no one from the firm knew about where he had stored his old pickup truck, so he at least had a way to leave.

It was all gone. In one fell swoop he had lost everything.

No, that wasn't completely true.

He had his hatred and he could use that to focus him.

Only one thing could get his life back.

And if that didn't work, he'd at least have the satisfaction of killing Alexander Fucking Harris with his bare hands.