Moments Defined

I ain't gonna lie
I've been drinking here all night
With an old friend of mine
Her name is misery...

Moments: small fragments of time that link together to form our lives much like the notes played on his guitar to string together a song, a G-chord here, an A-minor there; all stringing together to make a melody. A melody of moments and memories that flood his mind every time he plays them.

Lindsey remembers all the moments that lead him here, from the blanket that his mother had made when he was five which was by now so worn and shredded that all that remained was the small lavender patch of his mother's dress in the very back of his wallet, to that life altering knock on the door during his sophomore year in college.

The moments that lead him here to this bar, a well hidden club with patrons not unlike anything he's seen here in L.A. He knows demons, he's worked for and beside them numerous times since he's come to L.A., and nothing is out of the ordinary for him anymore.

Working at Wolfram and Hart has been more than an eye-opening experience for him; it changed his life and set him on his way. Straight to the top where power and money dwell, all the things Holland Manners promised him that day he showed up at Hastings.

Holland was even more pleased with Lindsey's performance, promoted Lindsey and gave him every opportunity to move forward at the firm. He remembers everything like it was yesterday…

"Lindsey?" Holland's voice was even toned with just a hint of menace.

"Yes, Mr. Manners?" Lindsey nervously fixed his suit jacket, his fingers moving over material more expensive than anything he'd seen or worn before. Stepping out of the elevator he followed Holland to his corner office, the view always set Lindsey on edge, even though he'dbeen here for nearly four years.

"Close the door behind you and have a seat, Lindsey." Lindsey quietly obeyed before moving over to the chair directly across from Holland's seat, sitting up straight and waiting. "You have been with this company for a few years now. Your performance, I must admit, has been quite remarkableI'm very impressed. You've surpassed most of my expectations, as well as those ofThe Partners."

"Thank you, Sir." He resisted the urge to smile and kept his face neutral knowing that he had worked hard to get where he was and it was time that it started paying off.

"Nobody in the company's history has ever made it from the mailroom to any of the upstairs offices like you have, Lindsey. The Partners are greatly impressed and we all have high hopes for you." Holland smiled at him, that smile that he always worewith clients when he was trying to close a deal. "I told you the day I met you that I had an opportunity of a lifetime for you and I'm keeping that promise." Holland stood and walked over to he file cabinet, opening the middle drawer and pulling out a thick file before returning to his desk.

"This file," he spoke as he opened the file about a quarter of the way throughand handed it to Lindsey, "is on one of our most important clients; Cyvus Vail. I've been contacted by his associates about a business arrangement he'd like our assistance in. I promised him that one of our best would be handling the project for him." Holland paused and leaned back in his oversized leather chair. "That would be where you come in, Lindsey. The file in your hands is your first client. I, of course, will help you if you need it, but I'm sure a man of your smarts won't need any help with this matter."

Lindsey closed the file and nodded at Holland. "Thank you, sir. You won't be sorry."

"No, I won't." Holland stood and walked around to the other side of his desk, dipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys. "Your new office is two doors down on the right; your client is already waiting for you.Everything you need is at your disposal but I strongly suggest you go downstairs and see Gwen in Files and Records and gather all of the information you need before the end of business today." He smiled down at Lindsey and patted his shoulder as he walked towards the door, holding it open in the silent gesture for Lindsey to leave. "Don't forget, Lindsey, I'll be watching…"

Lindsey stood up and nodded politely, making his way down to his new office, a small smile on his face as his eyes gazed over the silver name plate with his name on it.

Breaking out of the moment, he reached down and turned the knob, file in hand as he stepped into his office for the first time.

"Kept me waiting long enough." Quickly he turned in the room and spotted what he would assume was an elderly man with a skin problem, but after taking a closer look he knew that his first client was other than human.

Clearing his throat, he shifted and made his way behind his desk. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, sir; I was only just informed that you needed our assistance I'm Lindsey McDonald."

"Well, Mr. McDonald, I recommend that in the future you make it your greatest concernnot to keep me waiting." The voice was raspy and threatening, making Lindsey shift in his seat. "Now, onto my business; I need to make a few business arrangements concerning some previous business with Silas…"

Many things have changed since that day, Lindsey himself doing the most changing. He's become harder, more closed off. He puts in more hours in the office than most of his coworkers, he does all his research himself and he's determined not to let anyone down… he's done that enough.

Two years after moving to L.A., he found out about the fire in Tennessee at his aunt's house. It was the fire that took away the reason that he's done everything in his life to this point. A kitchen fire consumed the house in a matter of minutes, his siblings never made it out of the house.

The guilt had eaten him up until he found solace in the bottom of a bottle of whiskey, generously poured for him by Lilah. That night he'd spilled things to her that he'd never spoken of, she in turn did the same until they were both too drunk to think or even pour themselves into a cab to get home.

He doesn't remember much about that night, except for the fact that the morning sun woke him up to find Lilah sprawled over him, just as undressed as he was.After she woke up, he was forced to swear that he'd never speak of it again; he hasn't.

"Wolfram and Hart is a full service law firm, Mr. Winters. It is our job - to see to it that our clients' lives run more smoothly."

No sooner had those words left his mouth, his job at the firm got a lot harder. Angel saw to that, it was almost as if he had made it his mission to make Lindsey miserable at Wolfram and Hart.

Angel shoved his richest client out of a seventh story window. That moment caused a spiral of events that Lindsey never planned for, things he never wanted to happen.

His mind always filled with thoughts of Angel the man that blew into his life and rocked his world off this course he had been on; the course of quiet compliance for the firm and willingness to get ahead in life.

Angel had only sparked desire in him, desire and want that he'd forgotten he had so long ago. Envy and anger poured off of him every time his name was mentioned, his lust was obvious to anyone with eyes; even more so to those that didn't.

But it wasn't what they thought, it wasn't the physical want – at least not at first – it was the envy for that look in Angel's eyes. That look of passion and fire, the look of knowing who you are and fighting for it with everything inside you.

Lindsey used to have that passion, but it's long gone, dwindled out like the rest of his family.

I spent the last day anywhere you could be found,
and I'd give anything if you'd turn back around
Anyways...
I just called to tell you
That I was wrong... can I come home

Lindsey knows he can't go back home, as his fingers strum the chords of his guitar, the smell of smoke, blood and a sulfuric scent he can't quite place fills his senses. This is the only place he feels he can unwind, let go and be who he wanted to be and not what he was.

Some night's he goes on stage, guitar in hand and just lets it all go. The feel of his guitar under his fingers is the only thing he knows in those few moments, those moments when he can't be touched by legal briefs and the moral ambiguity of the clients he defends. His fingers glide over his guitar like a second language rolls off the tongue, the last chord of the song always makes his fingers ache. The spell of revere is broken as he stands to exit the stage; clearing his throat and pushing away that last bit of southern boy drawl that's left in him.

He knows he can't turn back the clock, and there's no turning back from what he's become, the choices he's made. It is what it is and the only thing he can do is fight against that passion he no longer has.

Because if Lindsey can't have it, why should Angel?

Authors Note: Lyrics in italics are from the KANE song 'Don't Come Home'