Disclaimer: Did you just say 'do you own the Angel characters'? 'Cause all I heard was blah blah blah blah blah. I just like to poke them with sharp pointy sticks, y'know, tease them and provoke them, just to see what they'll do. I'm sick like that.

Feedback: Yes please with sugar on top. And if you want to email me, that's OK too. Heck, I'll even let you take this story somewhere else if you ask nicely…

(I kinda used the wrong kind of 'bear' in my last authors note, which sorta means that whole sentence takes on a different meaning…oh well.)

Phew, this one took ages to write! And ff.net seems not to want to let me on just lately, so this chapter was a long time coming. Sorry! I'll do better next time. These things keep getting longer and longer every time, don't they? This one's over 4,000 words, when I usually limit myself to 3,500 at the most. Never mind, you'll just have to suffer.

PART 15.

Lilah's gloved hands crept up to Angel's muscled arms in silent defiance, but she kept her composure and waited patiently for him to release her. The detachment in her eyes and stern determination in her stance told Angel that she had probably expected such a move, and his seething attitude suddenly felt extreme. He made a conscious effort to suppress his anger and relaxed his grip slightly so that she could breathe.

Not letting the chance go to waste, Lilah gulped in air and forced a bitter smile.

"Come on, Angel, we both know that you're not going to kill me. Wouldn't that defeat the point of your noble little operation?"

Angel reluctantly let her go; reminding himself that if Wesley could do it, so could he. She reinforced her confident front, brushing herself down and straightening up. But Angel's vampire senses didn't lie. She was still terrified.

"Start talking, Lilah, before I throw you out."

She rubbed her neck for a moment, as if to make a point, and flicked her hair back behind her ear. She was going to take her time, damn it. She hadn't endured the entire journey here in some sleazy excuse for a cab just to have Angel tell her to sling her hook. Lilah Morgan was hardened, a player, someone to be reckoned with. She was a natural born leader, and she took this from no one.

"Cut the intimidation crap, Angel, I came here to talk and that's exactly what I intend to do, whether you threaten me or not. Do you think I just popped round for a quick social call? Please, don't flatter yourself. I've got better things to do than wasting precious time and breath gloating to you. This is important, otherwise I wouldn't bother gracing you with my presence."

Angel rolled his eyes and crossed his arms again, but refrained from tapping his foot. If physical violence was out of the window, at least he could still be childish. A guy's gotta vent somehow.

"Bored now, Lilah."

"Look, you made it clear the last time we met, and as much as I like to see you suffer, I wanted to clear myself in advance for the sake of my much treasured neck. I came to warn you. The next little adventure you find yourself mixed up in…"

She laid a hand on her chest and shot a dramatic wink.

"Not responsible."

That confirmed it then. Something else was yet to happen, he'd been right all along. Angel knew this had seemed to good to be true. Nothing was ever that easy. At least, not when Wolfram and Hart were concerned. He couldn't help the slip of his face as he considered the possibilities, and caught himself too late. Lilah hadn't missed it, and that irritating smirk was back. She was the one calling the shots in this conversation, as much as he didn't like to admit it, and she wasn't going to let him forget it.

"Yeah, you heard me," she sneered. "The firm's not finished with you yet. And before you feel the need to pump me for information, let me just say that I don't know any of the details, just that you'd better be ready when 'they' get here, whoever it is they send. Oh, and a bit of advice, between one friend and another, don't bother running. I hear that they've got special plans for this place if they find you're not in it."

The fear was beginning to leave her now. This was what she was good at, and it was making Angel nervous. He knew she wasn't lying, just as she knew he was genuinely concerned. In their lines of business, it paid to be able to sense when someone was telling the truth, or, more accurately, telling big fat twisted tales. After all, you couldn't always rely on the mind readers and psychics, could you?

As much as she was enjoying the kick she was getting out of being the bearer of bad news, she didn't much fancy sticking around to find out what Angel was going to do about it. And she was as good as dead anyway if the firm found out she was here. Lindsey may have been prepared to lose body parts in the fight against this guy, but as far as she was concerned, he just wasn't worth it. Speaking of which…

"How's my lapdog doing? I know he's here. Have you killed him yet, or are you going to wait until he snaps out of his stupor and starts turning this place upside down, looking for revenge on the person who kidnapped him from his happy existence? In case you were wondering, that was a clue. Might wanna put him out of his misery now and save yourself some trouble. Send him my love though, won't you?"

The smugness almost becoming unbearable, Angel had to remind himself that killing humans was below him. The woman was going to suffocate in her own self-centred selfishness if she didn't come off of her high horse soon. Maybe he should knock her off of it to help her on her way, you know, in the interests of her well-being.

He didn't have to. Someone else was going to do it for him. The lobby doors swung open and Gunn waltzed in, beaming with satisfaction. He stopped short when Lilah turned to face him and brought out his long unused 'tude from its storage, where he'd been saving it for special occasions. He slouched back on his heels and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. Cocking his head in her direction, he gave her a disapproving once over and curled his lip.

"What's super-witch-bitch doing here?" he asked in disgust, looking over her at Angel. "Come to finish the mind job you did on Wes?"

He stalked over to her and looked her in the eye, being sure to invade her personal space as much as was humanly possible, without risking becoming infected with whatever evil disease was responsible for turning her into sadism on heels.

"Why don't ya try it with me and see what happens. And there ain't no amount of begging from Cordelia gonna save you this time. You got lucky that Wes is the decent type. So come on then. What ya waitin' for? Oh, right, you only go for nice guys. Damn. I guess that means you won't be able to do your mojo on me and then kick me when I'm down, huh? Shame."

Angel couldn't stop the grin forming against his will as he watched Gunn's outburst and the effect it was having on his favourite lawyer. Maybe she could predict and manipulate him, but she had no idea when it came to Gunn. She was up the proverbial creek without a paddle. The funniest part was that she actually believed that Gunn would lay a finger on her. He could see it in her eyes. Shaking his head, he put a rough hand on her shoulder and pulled her away before Gunn burst a blood vessel.

"Don't worry, Gunn, she was just leaving." He dragged her towards the doorway, taking an enormous amount of pleasure in the act. Just to add insult to injury, he talked over her like she wasn't there, ignoring her indignant catty remarks.

"Did you get it done?"

Gunn's satisfied grin returned as he reported his completed task.

"Those kids didn't know what hit 'em. They couldn't believe their luck! I told 'em to take good care of it, and they said they'd put it to good use. They'll be cruisin' the streets in no time, just as soon as they've kitted it out for some dustin'. It'll be the little sister my truck never had. I wish I could be there when they drive past the firm and the poor sucker who owns it sees where it went!"

Lilah turned and glared at Gunn in disbelief, just before she was hurled over the threshold and introduced to the dirtier side of the hotel doors. Angel took Lorne's advice and locked up, just to make sure no more uninvited guests would find their way in unannounced.

"What did she want, anyway?"

Angel walked back towards the office with his 'I'm thinking, don't talk to me' face on. What Lilah had said had unnerved him, and he was reluctant to worry the others. Intending to scurry away and brood some more, he blanked Gunn, brushing straight past him.

Gunn wasn't having any of it.

"Angel man, tell me what's going on." He grabbed Angel's arm before he could walk past and stepped in his path.

Angel looked him in the eye, a hesitant expression on his face. Gunn didn't like it one bit.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he asked. Why, in all seriousness, he thought Gunn would leave it to rest if he said that, he didn't know. Maybe it would be best if he just came out with it so they would be prepared. After all, hiding stuff from his friends hadn't got him very far just lately, had it? Gunn's expectantly raised eyebrow decided it.

" She came to warn us that we're in for more trouble. I guess they kinda want revenge or something, I don't know. Doesn't look like Lilah's in on it, either. They probably want to clean up the mess she made, maybe come back for…oh God, Wesley…"

Gunn frowned and poked Angel hard in the arm. "What?"

"He sort of ran off when he saw Lilah down here…"

"Oh great," Gunn moaned, "nice move Mr. Sensitive. You'd better pray he ain't goin' off on one and smashing up the hotel. Which way'd he go? I'll go find him."

Angel pointed to the top of the staircase and Gunn followed the direction, taking two steps at a time. Snapping out of his short brain freeze, Angel made after him, intending to help in the search.

                                                            *          *          *

Gunn had moved fast. By the time Angel reached the first landing, he had already disappeared out of sight. Angel could hear him walking overhead, and guessed he had decided to search the floor above. Sniffing the air, he determined that Gunn had the right idea. He'd probably find Wesley before he got up there anyway, but he might need backup, just in case.

What was this day coming to? Couldn't he even trust his own friends alone together? Still, caution may be the best policy in this case, and Wesley would understand that, right? He shook any thoughts to the contrary from his mind and placed a foot on the next step upwards. Then hesitated. Then carried on. Then stopped again.

Oh, stop being such a coward. Gunn was right, he'd have to face up to Cordelia sooner or later, and she'd want to know what was going on. She was in one of the rooms down here, he knew that much. He took an unneeded breath and strode along the hall, determined to make a stand, and probably beg for forgiveness as well. Whichever came first.

Halfway along, he slowed his pace, eventually coming to an uncomfortable halt outside one of the rooms. This one wasn't Cordelia's. It was where he had left Lindsey before he and Gunn had gone downstairs to have a manly talk about how to deal with women. Something just didn't feel right. Maybe it was because of what that poisonous Lilah woman had said, or maybe it was because he needed an excuse not to see Cordelia again, but it felt like some invisible force was making him stop and take notice. Of what? The silence? What did he expect to hear, a swinging one-man party going on, or maybe manic insane laughter? He was letting his imagination run away with him.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to walk away without taking a look inside. For all he knew, Lindsey had run off into the night, never to be seen again. It didn't hurt to check.

Quietly pushing the door open, he lingered on the threshold, peering into the dim light. For a second, he hoped that Lindsey hadn't gotten the wrong idea and thought that this room belonged to him or anything; otherwise he would need an invitation. His doubts were proved unfounded, however, and he stepped in, only to discover that the bed was empty. He froze, a hundred and one thoughts flying through his mind at once, only to be physically knocked from his panic.

Something long and hard swung at him from behind the opened door, connecting with the side of his head and spinning him to the side, landing him against the wall with a crash. Blinking away the spots dancing before his eyes, he looked up to see Lindsey emerge from his hiding place and loom above him, the rail from the wardrobe in his hands.

"WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!" he yelled, the metal pole poised menacingly above the dark huddled mass before him.

Angel pulled himself up slowly, his hand searching the wall at his back for the light switch. Finding it where it should be, he flicked it on, startling Lindsey and forcing him to squint against the sudden brightness. Trying to appear non-threatening, Angel remained still and waited for his next move, wanting to judge the situation correctly.

Lindsey blinked at him in recognition and took a step back, the newfound light revealing his captor for the first time.

"Angel?" he asked, as though it was the last thing he had expected. He looked confused and very suspicious, which Angel could understand, considering the circumstances.

Angel raised his hands in submission, edging forward from the confining wall.

"Lindsey, I know what you're thinking, but just let me explain, OK?"

He didn't seem to buy it, and took another step backwards, clutching his only defence warily.

"What's going on here? Is this Lilah's idea of some kind of sick joke? And don't come any closer already…"

"OK, OK, just, take it easy…"

Angel watched Lindsey carefully, trying to read his body language. His eyes were darting round the room with fear, scanning for the trick that he expected to arrive. Angel didn't want him to take off, but the knew he was going to lose this battle if he didn't do something about it now.

"Your arm, it's bleeding. Are you hurt?" he asked, indicating to the slowly spreading red patch trickling down his sleeve. Lindsey took a quick glance and snapped his head back up, narrowing his eyes in question.

"What do you care?" he hissed, not believing this vampire's good intentions for a second. Angel changed his tactics, preying on the amnesia currently causing him all the trouble.

"Enough to have found some of your other cuts before now. Who do you think put those bandages on your face there? You know, the ones you've kinda rudely ripped off after all my hard work."

Doubt passed over the man's features for a second, and he lowered his arms just slightly. Angel seized the opportunity and continued whilst he had the upper hand.

"Look, you're confused and scared, but don't you think that if I had wanted to kill you that I'd have done it by now? Come on, Lindsey. Even you know that thing you've got wouldn't hold me off for long. So why don't you just give it to me and we'll take this real slow…"

Angel advanced again, holding out a hopeful hand and smiling with the best 'I'm friendly' smile he could manage. He briefly wondered what he would have done in the same situation, and then decided he didn't like the answer. Oh well, no time to back out now.

Lindsey stared at Angel's outstretched arm like it was a venomous snake waiting to strike. His own arms trembled, reducing the image he was trying to project to a pitiful attempt at something resembling 'intimidating'. All he wanted was answers, was that too much to ask? The huge, black, gaping hole in his mind where three weeks of life should have been needed filling, and he would do anything to fit the pieces back into place. If Angel could help him do that, then so be it. He didn't have anything else to lose, so he might as well put himself at the mercy of a once hated enemy who happens to be a vampire. Ha, isn't life a bowl of cherries?

Angel was surprised and relieved at the same time when Lindsey allowed him to take the pole out of his hands and place it a safe distance away. Lindsey turned and sat on the edge of the bed, defeated. His hands worked furiously at nothing in particular, resting on his lap and drawing his attention. Angel stood a respectful distance away, opening the conversation when it looked like Lindsey wasn't going to be forthcoming.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Huh, well that's easy. I've thought of nothing else since I've been here. Lilah probably doesn't think I know, but it had her written all over it. It's definitely her style. A couple of goons jumped me on my way back from work and dragged me off. I don't know what they did, but it hurt like hell, and then I woke up here. I figured she'd had me abducted for some kind of punishment, you know, for running off and everything. Thing is, my watch says that today isn't Tuesday, or Wednesday, or even Thursday. It says it's three weeks later and I can't for the life of me work out what happened. I was kinda hoping you could shed some light on the matter."

He produced an embittered smile that said 'figures', and shook his head, not once meeting Angel's eyes. He felt ashamed to ask for help from this guy, of all people, and didn't like to admit that a couple of nobodies and Lilah had gotten the better of him. Angel saw it and sympathised, despite his previous misgivings.

"Oh, and before you ask, I'm not telling you where I was. I've done a damn good job staying hidden, for a while at least, and I intend to keep my secrets, for what good they'll do me."

Angel nodded in agreement and left the subject alone, not really caring either way. Now came the hard task. Just how do you explain to someone that they've been enslaved to a mind controlling demon for weeks, and that no one knows what untold horrors have been committed? And as for the escape, he didn't know how to report that in a way that would make it sound remotely credible.

But he had to try.

                                                            *          *          *

Emerging from the stairwell, Gunn rounded a corner and peered cautiously along the corridor. No one came up here much, and bits of junk were piled up against the walls, collecting dust and the bodies of numerous dead spiders in their webs. The air was stale and thick with floating particles, disturbed by the slightest of movements in the too long vacant space. The wiring was a bit dodgy up here too, Gunn noted, making what little working lighting there was flicker eerily.

This was a horror movie set, if ever Gunn saw one. Why Wesley had chosen to hide up here, he could only guess. Maybe he wasn't really thinking about it at the time. Which begged the question, what was he thinking? Gunn prayed that it was nothing bad, or else they could all be in for a spot of hurricane Wes pretty soon.

He could hear muttering emanating from around the next corner and headed towards it, knowing who was the source of the noise. The closer he got, the more he could feel the building tension in the air, and he began to fear that his worst suspicions had been confirmed. Now that he thought about it, maybe creeping up on Wesley and jumping out from around a corner at him wasn't the best course of action, so he purposefully kicked over a nearby rusty bucket to make a little warning noise, the metaphor of which was not lost on him.

The muttering stopped, and he assumed that it was relatively safe to proceed.

"Hey, Wes…" he called as he stepped out from the shadows, revealing himself fully and suddenly feeling uncomfortably vulnerable.

Wesley stopped his pacing at the far end of the hall, turning to address the interloper. Soft light made its way in beams through the small window at the back, weaving it's way through the feeble drapes hanging in ghostly tendrils around it. The slight illumination framed Wesley's form, making it impossible for Gunn to discern his expression.

Gunn hoped that, without his glasses, Wesley hadn't seen his face drop when he noticed the small pieces of fallen plaster and peeled wallpaper scattered on the carpet. The ones closest to Wesley's feet were vibrating and inexplicably jumping at each other, like leaves do in heavy rainfall. Except that there were no droplets responsible for this movement. They were charged.

Inwardly gulping, Gunn approached, deciding to play ignorant for the time being.

"Hey, I didn't know you were up yet. What are you doing up here on your own? Are ya feelin' OK?"

"If someone else asks me that I swear to God…"

"Hey, chill man. I was just askin'."

Wesley resumed his pacing, and looked away, trying to calm himself down. It only freaked Gunn out more, and he couldn't hide his concern anymore.

"OK, so you need to tell me what's up, cuz you're seriously creeping me out right here. And don't go snarkin' at me again or I'll kick your skinny white ass."

Gunn expected to get a harsh bark of laughter for that, or maybe some sharp objects hurled his way, but he got a weary sigh instead. Wesley leant against the wall and lifted his head to stare at the ceiling, letting it rest against the cold concrete.

"I'm sorry, I'm just…annoyed…"

"Oh really?" Gunn quipped sarcastically, "See, I hadn't noticed. Thought maybe you were always in the habit of skulking around dark hallways talking to yourself. Hell, Angel does it all the time."

The humming atmosphere relaxed a little, and the scraps of debris stilled. Gunn breathed a silent sigh of relief and walked a bit closer, joining Wesley in his propping of the corridor wall. They both stood for a moment, studying the contents of a random cardboard box that rested nearby, each waiting for the other to say something.

Wesley wanted to explain his actions in a way that would make sense, even though he wasn't quite sure himself. That audacity of that woman, the blind cheek…to just walk in there like nothing had happened…it had scared the hell out of him. He didn't usually let things get to him, but just lately, he couldn't seem to help himself. He was going to have to work on that. He knew Gunn probably wouldn't understand half of the things he might say, and there was nobody else who would, but he spoke anyway.

"I'm just tired of being the victim, Gunn."

His friend looked up at him and met his gaze without confusion or the 'huh?' he had expected.

"Then don't be", he replied. His matter-of-fact simplicity was refreshing, and Wesley wondered just how much he had already guessed. He smiled despite himself, and Gunn grinned back, pleased to have nipped that little episode in the bud.

They looked up simultaneously when they heard a crash and some muffled cursing, like someone tripping over things further down the hall. The person got closer, and an unmistakable 'eew, gross' floated round to meet them.

Cordelia's head poked around the corner and she frowned at them by way of reprimand.

"There you are!" she cried, stumbling up to meet them, giving Gunn a smack on the arm when she reached them.

"Ow!" he protested, "what was that for?"

"You should know better", she scorned, pointing a finger in his face and putting the other on her hip. "And you…" She turned on Wesley with no less passion, "What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be resting!"

Gunn tried to cut in with an explanation, but she silenced him with a glare. Grabbing Wesley's elbow fiercely enough to dig in her fingernails, she turned and dragged him back the way she had come, nagging him all the way. Wesley couldn't get a word in edgeways, and Gunn had to smile at the change in mood. He'd be back to bickering with her in no time, and that's the way it was meant to be. Trust Cordelia to come along and take everyone's minds off of things for a while. She had an uncanny knack for it that always amused him.

Steeling himself for a good telling off, he followed the pair out of the deserted corridor, thankful for the reprieve from agony aunt duties.

To be continued…