Disclaimer: I don't own Angel the Series.

Thanks to Starway Man, my beta-reader.

Note: A relatively short and low-impact (in a sense) chapter, but there's little that would be different in 'That Old Gang of Mine' in this AU, so we're just covering some of Lilah's side-story here. Next chapter will be substantially different.

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 18: Digging Deeper

Demon Bar, Los Angeles

October 5th, 2001

Lilah knocked back her whiskey shot and examined the bar, counting the various different kinds of demon present. Seventeen was her best estimate, counting the Brachen bartender. Only one vampire, though, which wasn't that surprising. While nowhere close to as high class as Caritas – and lacking any sanctuary spell – this bar generally catered to mostly peaceful demons. Well, demons that didn't eat babies and that sort of thing. And they also didn't carry blood, which discouraged the undead from showing up here.

Still, Lilah could care less about all that. She was only here because the demon she wanted to talk to – according to everything she been able to find out – was a regular patron of the establishment. Of course, if the owner of the bar knew everything Lilah knew about this particular patron, he'd be terrified out of his skull.

Not by the patron himself – but the kind of company he could bring here.

Lilah waved over the bartender and ordered a beer. Wesley wouldn't approve, she was sure – typical Brit, he got snooty about American beer. But then, Lilah wasn't really looking for a drink to enjoy, so it didn't really matter. In a bar, you drank alcohol to fit in. A beer was easier to nurse slowly while looking like you were really drinking. She turned from the bar and looked around, a smirk rising to her face when she finally saw him enter.

Roghan. To all appearances, he was a normal, relatively law-abiding demon. Sarwesh species – red scales, spines on the back of his hands and up his arms and surprisingly good tempered, even if he could rip the door off a car with little effort. He worked as a night watchman – under the table, of course – for an office building where the owner was in the know. Simple job with relatively few people to deal with, worked just fine for him.

Lilah accepted her beer when it arrived and took a small sip, while she watched Roghan sit down at a booth – and order a drink from a demon waitress wearing a skirt that was far too short for her. Once the woman came back with his drink and left again, Lilah made her way over to the booth and sat down across from him.

"Who are you?" Roghan ground out in a rough voice, leaning over towards her.

"Lilah Morgan. You might have heard of me."

The demon took a long pull of his beer. "Nope, can't say that I have. So what do you want?"

"I agree that Roghan, regular demon night-watchman, doesn't know who Lilah Morgan, former attorney for Wolfram and Hart is. But Vylmaes, the second-largest Orpheus dealer in L.A. who keeps his main stockpile over on 87th Street under a normal-looking house occupied by an elderly couple named Ruth and Brian Akers – he does know who Lilah Morgan is. Or at least you recognize the name in passing." Lilah steepled her fingers and looked over them at him, smirking.

Roghan looked around carefully, then leaned in towards her, drumming his fingers lightly on the table. "All right, fine. So I recognize the name. I also know that since you don't work for Wolfram and Hart anymore, any threat you're going to make to me is more or less toothless." He took another drink of his beer. "So, again, what do you want?"

"I need five minutes alone with Donovan Riley. You know, your biggest customer." And one of Lindsey's clients. Not just any client, though. His mid-tier job in an upscale real-estate agency let him have a hand in helping Lindsey and other lawyers at Wolfram and Hart purchase or otherwise...acquire buildings. Some of which became safe-houses.

Roghan snickered, biting his lip to avoid bursting into mocking laughter. "You're insane. I'm not setting anyone up. And Riley isn't my customer –"

"Don't try to play games with me. Donovan Riley has killed at least three people while under the influence of Orpheus, and you are going to arrange for me to have five minutes alone with him. Or else." Lilah leaned in towards the drug dealer. "Try me." Any hint of false friendliness was gone from her tone now. "Try me." She repeated.

Roghan looked at her, then blinked. "You've got nothing you can threaten me with, and there's nothing you're in a position to give me that would be worth it."

"Really? Because I have a gun." Lilah produced it under the table and let Roghan feel the audible click.

"Okay, if you shot me, it would hurt. But it takes more than just the one bullet to kill a Sarwesh. You'd end up dead before I do." Roghan smirked. "Try again."

"I work with Angel Investigations nowadays." Lilah replied with a cold, expressionless look on her face. "And sure, they don't like me. They don't especially trust me. And I'm not expecting them to avenge my death. But I do think they'd be very interested to learn that the second largest dealer of Orpheus in L.A. is starting to diversify into the Soul Drops business, something they've gone to significant lengths to try to stamp out. They'd love to know that the only thing protecting your main stockpiles are a handful of half-bloods pretending to be civilians. That you don't keep muscle covering the drugs because that's how you stay underneath everyone's radar."

"I'm not diversifying into Soul Drops!" Roghan almost yelled, controlling himself at the last moment. "I'm not sick enough to touch that crap," he added with a hiss.

"Oh, I know that. Because, after all, you have – and I'm using the loosest concept of the term possible, here – 'standards'. But see, Angel and his groupies don't know that. And sure, you could move your Orpheus stockpiles, but that'll cost you money. Time. Customers." Lilah reached into her jacket with her other hand and produced a small envelope. "There's five thousand dollars in here. You can either take the money and give me a meeting with Donovan Riley, or I can send Angel Investigations after you. You choose, Vylmaes."

"Don't call me that. And I oughta kill you right now." Roghan pointed out. "I may be a drug dealer, but I don't have to take this sort of shit from you of all people."

"You kill me, it raises questions. Questions whose answers you don't want anyone to find out. And I can scream 'Orpheus dealer' or 'Vylmaes' before you could kill me; right here, right now. Anonymity is the only thing that keeps you alive and in business, and we both know that. Way I figure it, you've gotten in way over your head. You didn't mean to get this big, get this exposed. But it happened anyway." Lilah let her finger tighten on the trigger. "And a bullet between your legs would hurt. A lot."

Roghan winced involuntarily. "You-"

"I'm a lawyer. Ruthless and vicious come with the territory. Five minutes with Donovan Riley, or your whole world comes crashing down around you. What'll it be?"

Roghan stared at her, Lilah meeting his gaze without flinching. They kept that up for nearly two minutes before Roghan blinked and turned away. Without looking at her, he said: "Riley will make his monthly pickup in two days at the house on 87 th Street. 3:15 am sharp." His voice was quiet, barely audible. "He's in and out in no more than ten minutes, though."

Lilah smiled – a smile that managed no warmth, friendliness or anything else positive. "Thank you, Roghan. Pleasure doing business with you." She left the envelope on the table and got up, walking away from the table and out the door as calmly as you please.

Lilah's Room, Hyperion Hotel

October 6th, 2001

By this point, Lilah was so inured to Wesley's habit of walking into her room unannounced that she didn't even look up from the file she was reading, upon hearing the sound of a key turning in the lock. And sure enough, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wesley walk into the room after opening the door. At the very least, though, he had the minimal decency to close it behind him.

"So." Lilah said after a long moment of silence, closing the file folder and looking up at him. "What is it today?" Her question was accompanied with a smirk that almost managed to be coy, and the lawyer enjoyed watching Wesley squirm for just a moment as a result. "Going to make some more threats? Because I have to say, I like it when you get angry and do that."

Wesley, fully composed once more, gave her a dirty look. Lilah just raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on Wesley. I've been living here for how long now? You should know by now that your dirty looks don't do anything to stop me. Hell, they're almost as good as when you get angry as hell over something I've done."

The former Watcher bit his tongue against a retort, and shook his head with a somewhat exasperated sigh before speaking: "Gunn and I had a rather unpleasant encounter with the police last night."

"Really? Well, since you didn't end up shot, I can't imagine it was any wore than your last 'unpleasant' encounter with the LAPD." Lilah pointed out, all business now.

"Yes, well. Unlike that previous occasion, I'm fairly confident that Lindsey was behind this one." Wesley let out a long suffering sigh. "Good Lord, you'd think sending the local police at us that way would be beneath him. Those two detectives and their uniform officers just spent forty-five minutes doing everything they could to find a reason to arrest us. I didn't realize pettiness was a desired trait at Wolfram and Hart."

"You'd be amazed at how far a well-honed sense of pettiness can take you at Wolfram and Hart." Lilah told him with a shrug. "But Lindsey's options are kinda limited at the moment. He's going to do anything he can to you short of murder and assassination. Gavin pulled asbestos out of his ass. Wouldn't surprise me if Lindsey decided to burn the hotel down, with just enough warning for you to get everyone out alive."

"Should I start fire-proofing the building?" Wesley asked dryly.

"Oh, Lindsey's not going to do that to you tomorrow. Or even the next day. He's still getting used to the repairs to his hand, most likely. I hear getting a limb fixed that way hurts even more than getting it replaced." Lilah smirked. "Wish I could a fly on that wall."

"Well, it's good to know we don't have to worry about the hotel burning down in the immediate future, but we do need to know what Lindsey is up to. And since you're already out there looking into-" Wesley started, but he was interrupted by Lilah.

"Stop right there. Because I'm not interested in what Lindsey is doing, Wesley. I'm just interested in what he's done." The lawyer corrected the head of the detective agency. "It's an entirely different angle of investigation to know what he's up to. If I find something out along the way, I'll be sure to pass it along." She gave him an unconvincing smile. "Free of charge."

"Like hell you will, Lilah. You'll find some way to milk an advantage out of the information. You've never done anything 'free of charge'." Wesley accused, not bothering to raise his voice, despite the vehemence in his tone and words.

"Hey!" Lilah said with mock defensiveness, holding up her hands, "I have too!" She nodded and twitched her mouth upwards a little. "Okay, granted, I was six at the time and I decided I didn't like it. But it did happen. Once."

"Your amazing journey into altruism decades ago aside, if you don't intend to be helpful, who would?"

"Merl." Lilah told him flatly. "No one really likes the little shit, but Angel didn't go to that demon snitch when he split up with you do-gooders just because he didn't have the imagination to find another one. Merl is the guy you want, if you want tabs kept on Lindsey. He knows people who know people who know people. Or...not-people, as the case may be."

Wesley let out another sigh. "Merl hasn't taken my calls in several months, unfortunately. He's still rather upset with Angel. Something about being left hung upside down in the sewer. I suspect he's not really an option."

Lilah shrugged again. "Not my problem." She got off the bed and went over to to the desk, which served as a makeshift bookshelf most of the time. She made a great show of examining the spines of her books. "Of course," She added nonchalantly, "as the boss of the outfit? You could always just make Angel apologize to that demon"

Wesley did a double take at her words. "Lilah, we are talking about the same vampire here?"

"Yes." Lilah agreed, turning around, resting her hands on the desk as she leaned back against it. "Come on," she urged, "go ahead; make Angel apologize for his actions. It'll be fun. Even you think it would be. It's written all over your face, Wes."

Despite himself, Wesley chuckled momentarily. "Well, yes, it's an amusing image. And unfortunately, I have to agree that Merl is the best demon for the job. I'd been rather hoping you had other ideas."

"No one who'll willingly talk to you and your people. Merl is just short-sighted enough to snitch for you guys, but cautious enough to still be alive." Lilah shrugged. "Like I said, I'll keep my ears open."

"Lovely." Wesley ground out.

"Seriously, Wes. When Angel apologizes to Merl, I want to watch. And bring popcorn." Juvenile, perhaps, but then Lilah did like popcorn with a good show.

Wesley gave her another dirty look and turned around. Lilah just gave him a little mocking wave as he left. "You know you're welcome here anytime, Wes!" She called after him as he closed the door.

Laughing to herself quietly for a moment, Lilah picked up the file again. She had a meeting with Donovan Riley at o-dark thirty this coming morning, and she needed to be prepared for it.

Outside the Akers Residence, Los Angeles

October 7th, 2001

Lilah calmly watched the car drive up in front of the house under which Roghan kept most of his stockpiled Orpheus. The car, like the house, was plain, unassuming and eminently forgettable. They were both quality constructions, and clearly not cheap, but neither were they expensive. Perfect for a pair of drug dealers and a vampire real estate agent who wanted to stay under the radar of the mortal and supernatural power players in L.A.

Donovan Riley stepped out of his car wearing a business suit and tie, the streetlight casting dim shadows over his countenance. But his world suddenly grew a few hundred percent brighter as Lilah shone a miniature floodlight right into his eyes.

"Ah! What the-" Riley yelled, throwing his arms in front of his face. Setting the floodlight on the ground – though making sure it still shone directly into Donovan's eyes – Lilah looked over at the momentarily dazzled Orpheus user.

"Hello, Donovan. Recognize my voice?"

Donovan blinked against the lugh, peering at an indistinct person-shaped shadow beyond the floodlight though his arms. "Lilah?" He lowered his arms, squinting. "Lilah! What – what are you doing here? You know my office is always open to you guys-" Even as he spoke, Donovan remembered something he'd been hearing on the grape-vine lately: Lilah Morgan didn't work for Wolfram and Hart anymore.

Lilah watched Donovan abruptly go into his game face with a snarl. Of course. Why do vampires always think I don't come prepared? Lilah rolled her eyes at Donovan. "I have a flare gun pointed right at you. Want to see if you can get to me before I can shoot it in your face, and make you go up in flames?"

"Either way, I can still rip your throat out!" Donovan snapped back. He took a step closer to her, in position to lunge at her or the floodlight.

"Maybe. But I'm not here to fight, you undead idiot. I just want some information. I'll even pay you for it."

"No deal!" Donovan shook his head as he spat the words at her. "I tell you anything about anything, Wolfram and Hart will make me sit through a sunrise!"

"Only if they ever find out you talked to me." Lilah pointed out calmly. "Which is far from certain; after all, I'm not going to tell the firm anything. But what I can promise you is that if you don't talk to me, the word will go out that you told me everything you know about everything. And you know how the Senior Partners actually feel about 'innocent until proven guilty." She laughed at Donovan. "And really? Sit through sunrise? You don't have much imagination, if you think that's all Wolfram and Hart would do to you."

"They won't believe you. And I'll take my chances." Without waiting for any reply from Lilah, the vampire lunged at her. Reacting quickly, Lilah shot the flare gun, but it passed the vampire's side – Riley dodged with incredible speed. Perhaps the flare singed him as he moved towards her, but nothing else.

It wasn't enough. The vampire was on her, his fangs lunging for her neck. Her hands pressed against his chest, Lilah desperately tried to keep the vampire's mouth from connecting with her neck. It was a fight she knew she would lose soon enough, but she kept at it. Uselessly, a part of Lilah's mind was wishing she had a third arm so she could get the stake in her pocket. The wish wasn't coming true.

Frantically, Lilah tried to knee Donovan in the groin as his fangs drew ever closer to her neck. If she could just – all she needed was a moment, a little space with which to move, grab her stake, run...anything she could work with. But it was to no avail.

No. No! I am not dying at the fangs of some two bit –

Lilah's defiant thought was interrupted as Donovan all but flew off her, crashing into the nearby streetlight and falling to the ground with an 'oof'. Only then did she see another vampire moving towards the fallen Donovan.

Lilah had never been happy to see Angel before. Immediately, she found herself hoping that the feeling would pass quickly. But as she scrambled to her feet, she saw Angel produce a stake from his sleeve and drive it into Donovan Riley's chest, creating an explosion of dust.

The happy feeling was instantly gone.

Fury rising inside her, Lilah stormed to Angel, punching him in his stomach as hard as she could, ignoring the corresponding pain in her hand. This fucking self-important undead son of a bitch deserved worse!

"You unmitigated asshole!" Lilah almost screamed at him. "I needed him intact!" She lashed out at Angel once more, but this time the vampire's hand caught her wrist with almost blinding speed.

"I just saved your life, Lilah!" Angel told her harshly. "And I already knew that gratitude was out of the question where you're concerned, but would it be too much to ask that you don't punch me!?"

"Gratitude!? You want gratitude? You just killed the best lead I've had in ages!" Lilah wrenched her hand from Angel's grasp. "I'll show you gratitude!" Lilah didn't care how undignified she seemed, or uncomposed she was. What she did care about was what Angel had done, and how far it had set her back. For a long moment, all that mattered to her was the raging furious anger Angel had elicited in her.

No. Stop. You are NOT Lindsey McDonald! Lilah found a part of her mind screaming at her. Angel is not worth hating or getting angry at. And he's not worth losing your composure!

The moment passed, and Lilah stepped back, forcing herself to take a deep breath and close her eyes, re-donning her calm, cold mask of expression. She then stared at Angel coolly.

"Are you done?" Angel demanded, crossing his arms in front of him.

"For now." Lilah said after a moment. "What the hell were you doing stalking me, anyway? I thought the only one you stalked was Buffy – oh, wait you can't-"

Angel was on her in an instant, his hands on the front of her blouse, lifting her off the ground a few inches. "Don't you ever say her name!"

"Touched a nerve, have I?" Lilah cocked an eyebrow, her composure solid, despite Angel's dark tone. "Good. Keep that in mind the next time you kill my lead!" Angel dropped her, and Lilah managed to stay on her feet rather than collapse in a heap. "You didn't answer my question, by the way."

Angel glared at her for a moment, then said: "Wesley suggested that I follow you. He wants to know just what the hell it is that you're up to, and I have to admit – I'm pretty curious myself. So what is it, Lilah? What's so damn important that you've been killing people, burning down safe-houses and having late-night chats with vampires?"

"I'm having one of those right now." Lilah pointed out, finally reaching down to turn off the floodlight, which had been knocked over in the fight, pointing at the ground. She scoffed at Angel's impatient look. "Oh, spare me. You didn't really think I'd answer your question willingly, do you? The only one of you precious little do-gooders I even begin to remotely respect is Wesley, and I haven't told him what I'm after. You really think I'm going to tell you, without you torturing it out of me?" She turned around. "Just – go back to your hotel and brood, vampire. Do what you do best. I have to go find a brand new lead, now."