Lindsey watched her go, and it was all he could do not to breathe a
sigh of relief. She hadn't killed him, and he'd managed to get through the
encounter without apologizing for every horrible thing he'd ever done all
the way back to filling his neighbor's gas tank with sugar when he was 8.
He replayed their last conversation at the motel and winced inwardly.
She'd claimed she wasn't on a mission, but she was a fabulous liar. She thirsted after redemption the way Angel did, like a woman dying in an endless desert, clawing at a single drop of rain. He must have seemed ripe, he thought. Wandering around like a nomad, heavy on the sin, light on the giving a rat's ass. It had occurred to him that morning in the hotel that she didn't really want him - she wanted someone she could feel good about saving.
Again, he told himself he wouldn't be her bitch. He loved her, that much he was sure of. It gnawed at him from someplace deep within his ribs, and it refused to go away, no mater how many passion-filled nights he spent telling himself he was just getting her out of his system. But he'd love her on his own terms.
He'd known she would track him down. Counted on it, in fact. He only hoped Wolfram and Hart wouldn't be as efficient.
"Congratulations, McDonald," he said to himself. "You are officially the world's biggest dick."
Lindsey drove to the other end of town, until he was in another dirty motel in another rundown part of LA. When he opened the door, the boy glared at him but said nothing. It was hard to talk with a thick white towel wrapped around one's mouth. Lindsey threw a white, greasy paper bag on the sole double bed.
"I hope you like Burger King," he said. Connor mumbled something incoherent around the towel, and Lindsey shook his head. The kid had Darla's delicate features, and for a brief moment he missed her. Then it passed and he tore the towel from Connor's mouth.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"I said, 'Why the hell are you keeping me here'?" Connor struggled against the ropes that bound him to the chair.
"Don't worry," Lindsey assured him. "You'll be out of here tomorrow, if your father does what he's supposed to."
Connor's eyebrows furrowed. "What do my parents have to do with this?"
Lindsey ignored him. Instead, he opened the bag.
"I'm only going to say this once, so pay attention, college boy," he said. "I'm going to untie you to allow you to eat. You try and run, and I'll blow your head off." He waved a small pistol he'd kept in his jacket pocket.
Connor nodded, and they ate together in silence. When they were done, Lindsey tied him to the chair and double checked the ropes to make sure they were secure. Then he sat on the bed and engaged in a stare-off with Angel's son. He had to give the kid credit - he never flinched or looked away. He wondered what kind of shit had to have gone down for Angel to give up the only child he'd ever have. Lindsey felt a brief stab of sympathy for the vampire, but it passed in a renewed flush of hatred. He toyed with the idea of beating up Connor just for the hell of it, but that was petty even for him.
"Do you have any idea what a lucky bastard you are?" Lindsey asked. Connor didn't answer. Lindsey hadn't expected him to.
"You got what everyone wants - a big, fat do-over. A shiny red reset button. Do you have any idea what kinds of sacrifices have been made for you?" Again, Connor just blinked at him.
"Say something, goddamn it!" Lindsey screamed. He swung his arm around and cracked Connor across the face. The fear he saw pool in the boy's eyes gave him a small measure of satisfaction.
"You're crazy," Connor answered softly.
Lindsey turned on his heels, ignoring the comment. "Do you know what destiny is?" he asked.
Connor nodded. "Sure. It's when you do what you're meant to do."
Lindsey laughed harshly. "Aren't you the naïve one? No, kid, destiny is when you do what the people who own your soul tell you to do."
He shook his head and paced across the room. The novelty of frightening Angel's son had worn off, and he was gripped by a fear of his own. He wasn't sure what he was more afraid of - what he was about to do, or the fact the he was doing it for her. He thought back to their conversation in the alleyway, and the pain scrawled all over her face in big, sloppy letters. What he'd done then had been messy and unpleasant, but necessary, just as this was necessary. While the survivalist within shouted out in protest, the romantic he kept carefully tucked away was obscenely pleased that his last mortal act would be for her. And the knowledge that Angel would owe him a debt he could never repay wasn't a bad bonus. .
Lindsey checked the knots one last time and walked out, leaving Connor alone in the motel room.
She'd claimed she wasn't on a mission, but she was a fabulous liar. She thirsted after redemption the way Angel did, like a woman dying in an endless desert, clawing at a single drop of rain. He must have seemed ripe, he thought. Wandering around like a nomad, heavy on the sin, light on the giving a rat's ass. It had occurred to him that morning in the hotel that she didn't really want him - she wanted someone she could feel good about saving.
Again, he told himself he wouldn't be her bitch. He loved her, that much he was sure of. It gnawed at him from someplace deep within his ribs, and it refused to go away, no mater how many passion-filled nights he spent telling himself he was just getting her out of his system. But he'd love her on his own terms.
He'd known she would track him down. Counted on it, in fact. He only hoped Wolfram and Hart wouldn't be as efficient.
"Congratulations, McDonald," he said to himself. "You are officially the world's biggest dick."
Lindsey drove to the other end of town, until he was in another dirty motel in another rundown part of LA. When he opened the door, the boy glared at him but said nothing. It was hard to talk with a thick white towel wrapped around one's mouth. Lindsey threw a white, greasy paper bag on the sole double bed.
"I hope you like Burger King," he said. Connor mumbled something incoherent around the towel, and Lindsey shook his head. The kid had Darla's delicate features, and for a brief moment he missed her. Then it passed and he tore the towel from Connor's mouth.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"I said, 'Why the hell are you keeping me here'?" Connor struggled against the ropes that bound him to the chair.
"Don't worry," Lindsey assured him. "You'll be out of here tomorrow, if your father does what he's supposed to."
Connor's eyebrows furrowed. "What do my parents have to do with this?"
Lindsey ignored him. Instead, he opened the bag.
"I'm only going to say this once, so pay attention, college boy," he said. "I'm going to untie you to allow you to eat. You try and run, and I'll blow your head off." He waved a small pistol he'd kept in his jacket pocket.
Connor nodded, and they ate together in silence. When they were done, Lindsey tied him to the chair and double checked the ropes to make sure they were secure. Then he sat on the bed and engaged in a stare-off with Angel's son. He had to give the kid credit - he never flinched or looked away. He wondered what kind of shit had to have gone down for Angel to give up the only child he'd ever have. Lindsey felt a brief stab of sympathy for the vampire, but it passed in a renewed flush of hatred. He toyed with the idea of beating up Connor just for the hell of it, but that was petty even for him.
"Do you have any idea what a lucky bastard you are?" Lindsey asked. Connor didn't answer. Lindsey hadn't expected him to.
"You got what everyone wants - a big, fat do-over. A shiny red reset button. Do you have any idea what kinds of sacrifices have been made for you?" Again, Connor just blinked at him.
"Say something, goddamn it!" Lindsey screamed. He swung his arm around and cracked Connor across the face. The fear he saw pool in the boy's eyes gave him a small measure of satisfaction.
"You're crazy," Connor answered softly.
Lindsey turned on his heels, ignoring the comment. "Do you know what destiny is?" he asked.
Connor nodded. "Sure. It's when you do what you're meant to do."
Lindsey laughed harshly. "Aren't you the naïve one? No, kid, destiny is when you do what the people who own your soul tell you to do."
He shook his head and paced across the room. The novelty of frightening Angel's son had worn off, and he was gripped by a fear of his own. He wasn't sure what he was more afraid of - what he was about to do, or the fact the he was doing it for her. He thought back to their conversation in the alleyway, and the pain scrawled all over her face in big, sloppy letters. What he'd done then had been messy and unpleasant, but necessary, just as this was necessary. While the survivalist within shouted out in protest, the romantic he kept carefully tucked away was obscenely pleased that his last mortal act would be for her. And the knowledge that Angel would owe him a debt he could never repay wasn't a bad bonus. .
Lindsey checked the knots one last time and walked out, leaving Connor alone in the motel room.