Disclaimer: I don't own Angel the Series. I don't.
Thanks to Starway Man, my beta-reader
Exit Strategy
By Alkeni
Chapter 19: That's Not Angel
Lobby, Hyperion Hotel
October 16th, 2001
In Lilah's view the last week and change had been interesting, to say the least. Watching Angel be forced to apologize to Merl had been a barrel of laughs in and of itself, and not just because Angel's insincerity and discomfort had been worth the price of admission. Merl's reaction had been just as good, and then the next day, the idea of Angel bringing donuts to the demon as a peace offering – well, that had just been icing on the cake.
She'd been surprised to hear that Merl was dead – that demon was, had been, a born survivor – and just a touch surprised that Wesley was bothering to investigate the death of that particular snitch.
She'd asked him why he was bothering – not in the same way Gunn did, naturally. Gunn hadn't thought they should bother – in his opinion, demon deaths didn't matter. Not really. No. Lilah was just curious as to Wesley's reasoning. His answer had been both interesting and very Wesley-like. So annoying and infuriatingly self-righteous, with just the slightest hint of ruthless, impersonal pragmatism.
"If our mission is to fight the good fight, rather than simply rack up dead bodies, then we need to fight the good fight on behalf of everyone. Simply not being human can't be enough. Besides, if there's a gang of demons killing nonviolent demons, then we need to know why – something important could be happening in the demonic underworld that we need to stay abreast of."
Finding out that it had been Gunn's former crew who had killed Merl, as well as those other nonviolent demons – well, that had been fun all on its own. The way Gunn had had his loyalties divided, got called out by his former friends, had said flat out that he'd be more than willing to kill Angel if he had to...
Always fun to find people willing to kill Angel. And here I thought Wesley and I were the only ones.
The best part, of course, had been the threat Wesley had offered Gunn after it was all over. If you ever withhold information or attempt to subvert me again, I will fire you. I can't have any one member of the team compromising the safety of the group, no matter who it is. If you do it again you will be dismissed, bag and baggage, out of a job onto the streets.
Of course, Lilah withheld all kinds of information from Wesley, but nothing important. And she hadn't done anything to subvert him – apart from mocking him and having a dig at him when they were in private, but that hardly counted. Lilah didn't especially like Wesley – except perhaps when he got angry with her – but he was the one most supportive of her remaining in the hotel, and being more or less part of the team. Somewhat.
The rest – well, none of them were actively homicidal, but she'd really not have one of them running the show. Especially not Angel.
The most amusing thing to happen in the last few days, though, had just happened. Was happening. Watching Wesley listen to Fred prattle on in that insipid little Texas accent of hers about how wonderful and gentlemanly and perfect Angel was. Wesley was very good at hiding just how much it was bothering him to hear that, but Lilah could tell.
Maybe he'll get over his interest in that fucking twig, and then we can all move on with our lives.
But for some reason, Lilah doubted it would be that simple.
Oh, and those fucking giggles. Lilah looked up from the book she was reading and focused even more on what Fred was saying.
"...you know, that awkward kind of quiet?" Fred's voice was finally something resembling a normal human speed. Lilah wondered how long that was going to last.
An empty silence stretched on for several seconds, Fred not noticing and Wesley not drawing attention to it until, "No, that's never happened to me."
Lilah returned to her book with a smirk and half paid attention to Fred and Wesley – and to the fresh conversation between Cordelia and Angel.
"Angel, it's just a figure of speech." Cordelia defended her use of the word 'eunuch', and Lilah actually chuckled.
"Find a better one." Angel told Cordelia, but his glare was spared for Lilah.
"Why?" Lilah asked, looking up. "It's close enough for government work. Besides, it's funny. Especially the way that you react to it."
Cordelia cracked her own smile – apparently even she couldn't deny Lilah's point – but went on, ignoring the even more indignant look on Angel's face at her amusement. "My point is that sex is a no-no for you. Because of this whole 'if you know perfect bliss you'll turn evil' curse. Really no cure for that, huh? Listen, all I'm trying to tell you is, this thing with Fred – it's going to go bad unless it's nipped in the bud."
True. But it would be fun as hell to see it go really bad. Lilah didn't vocalize that thought – there wasn't any point, and she was plenty amused by it all on her own.
"Okay." Angel conceded, far too easily. "Maybe just a short talk." Angel fidgeted a little. "So how soon can you do that?"
"Oh no, Cordelia. You're not robbing us of the fun of this conversation." Lilah cut in, lowering her book again. Cordelia stood and turned to look at Lilah with a 'you're not helping' glare on her face, and Lilah just shrugged and gave her a pointed look that said, 'did you expect me to actually help?'. The Seer scoffed at her, but then turned back to Angel.
"As much as I hate to give Lilah what she wants, this talk is going to have to come from you, bucko. Now, man up and do it." She grabbed at Angel's arm and started to drag him towards the office, where Fred was still gushing about the date. Or maybe the movies. She alternated between the two with an almost alarming lack of coherence or segue.
Wanting to hear this, Lilah stood up and walked into the office – leaning a little against the door frame, arms crossed in front of her. Yeah, this should be good...
"Angel has something to say." Cordelia interrupted the two, still dragging Angel by the arm. She let go of him and stepped back, and all three – Fred, Wesley and Cordelia gave him expectant looks.
Looking like he wanted to be anywhere in the world but here – including possibly the middle of the Sahara Desert at High Noon – Angel grasped for something then held up his newspaper, walking over to stand next to Wesley, laying the paper on the desk. Oh no. You're not robbing me of the fun of watching you say this after staking my fucking lead!
"Hey!" His tone was just slightly forced. "Did anybody else see this?" He gestured to the article in question, "Police found the body of a twenty-six year old Woodrow Raglan in a two-bedroom suite at the Elondria Hotel. Unnamed witness said it was as if his insides had just –"
Fucking bastard
, Lilah interjected mentally, cursing madly. It looked like the undead prick was going to get away with changing the damn subject!
"Collapsed." Wesley finished, looking at the article. He started to look over his desk, searching though newspaper clippings, written notes and open books. "You know, there was something else like that – last week."
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Okay. Can I just point out that no one is paying us to look into this, and maybe we should focus on something more important?"
Like making sure Fred realizes Angel isn't into her? She'll figure it out. He's only ever going to be hooked on his dead Slayer ex-girlfriend, after all. Lilah walked into the room a bit further. "Focus on 'what' exactly? Because last I checked, no one was paying us to look into anything at the moment, and since you're not having visions to guide our way right now..." She shrugged, "Short of standing around and doing nothing at all, this works. I was getting bored anyway."
"And now you've just jinxed us." Cordelia threw up her hands in disgust. "You did that on purpose!" She added, glaring at the lawyer.
"Well, duh." Lilah replied. If they had a case to bother themselves with, not only would it be something to do – but if it took a while, it could distract them from getting in the way of her search. She'd found a few tentative leads, but what she really needed was a look at Lindsey's financials. She had bits and pieces of his transactions from before she'd jumped ship from Wolfram & Hart, but only that. And not enough to go on. Not by a long shot. Especially since Lindsey took her mother after Lilah left.
Lilah's arms dropped to her side, as the idea suddenly came to her. If she'd been another woman, it might have taken a lot of her control to stop herself from cursing aloud and repeatedly. As it was, it was fairly easy not to.
Why did I never think of that possibility?
She'd been assuming that wherever Lindsey had stashed her mother was a place that he'd already had set up. A safe-house he'd already had extant. But Lindsey could never be 100% sure she hadn't figured out a given safe-house, if he got it while she was with Wolfram and Hart. Lindsey could have some that he was pretty sure were secure, but he could only be so sure. Acquiring a safe-house on the fly was hard, but not impossible. He could have held her mother somewhere she knew about initially, because she wouldn't have been in any position to do a damn thing about it. Not that soon – and then she'd gone and vanished into another dimension for a few days, given Lindsey even more time.
It made sense. That didn't mean that it had to be the case, but what it did mean –
I may have been looking in all the wrong places for all the right leads.
Not listening to the group talk about Mr. Collapsed Insides, Lilah turned and left the office, making a beeline for her room and her extensive notes. Her memory was good, but not that good. She had been careful to keep everything in shorthand and without context, in case Wesley or anyone else started snooping. They hadn't looked at her notes yet – they were well hidden in the room – but...
Well, it wasn't as if Wesley or Angel couldn't have found them and put them back without leaving any sign for her to notice.
Wolfram and Hart, Los Angeles
October 17th, 2001
"Morning, Lindsey."
Lindsey McDonald didn't turn at the sound of Gavin's voice behind him, or the sound of the other man following him. His injured hand was recovered now, but having a piece of metal pipe thrown into it by a homicidal vampire was not conducive to a good mood.
Especially since he couldn't murder said homicidal vampire. Or have someone kill him. Or even feasibly go after Angel's people and have them maimed or killed. Because then the escalation would lead to Angel either burning down the L.A. branch of the firm around his ears, or becoming dust in the process. Neither of which the Senior Partners, or the upper management of this branch of Wolfram & Hart, wanted.
Though, to be honest, Lindsey cared very little about what the Senior Partners wanted when it came to Angel. As long as the undead asshole kept walking the earth, Lindsey had no interest in contributing to the 'make evil Angel' project. Or even the 'keeping his side a grey area' project. Special Projects did have other priorities, and as long as Angel stayed a self-righteous eunuch (or all but), there were no real options in hand.
"Good morning." Lindsey offered back, stopping at his office door and starting to open it. "If you'd like to exchange more pleasantries, make an appointment."
"How's the hand?" Gavin mocked, and Lindsey turned around, clenching both hands – 'evil' and otherwise – into tight fists. The smug look on Park's face was just asking to be punched in.
"Recovered. Want a demonstration?"
"I was wondering if you wanted to get back at him for it."
"With building code violations? Throw more asbestos at him? That's so...brilliant. Make him mistake the red tape for blood?" Lindsey held up a closed fist then opened it. "That's sure to make his soul go 'poof'."
Gavin rolled his eyes. "There are multiple levels to this. It's not about the violations. It's about this question: Does Angel exist?"
"He cut off one of my hands, and threw a metal pipe into the other one. I'm fairly confident that he exists, Gavin. If you doubt it, I suppose we could always tie you to a chair and give him a carving knife, see if you think he exists after that." Not that Gavin would actually get tortured by the vampire, well – unless he did something stupid, like hurt one or more of the bloodsucking bastard's human pets. Hmm –
Now there's an idea. Lindsey made a mental note to look into the possibility that had just occurred to him as Gavin started to reply.
"No. The guy has no social security number, no tax payer ID, no last name as far as I know. How can he go down to the building department, or anywhere else in officialdom, for that matter? He's the rat and we're the maze. Don't you wanna see what he'll do next?"
"Not really. I've already seen what he does next." Lindsey held up his hands. "Have fun." Lindsey walked into his – very spacious and well appointed – office, closing the door behind him. Either way, Lindsey figured he was going to have some fun watching Gavin's plan progress. If it worked, Angel's life got screwed up for a while. If it didn't, Gavin got another loss on his ledger.
Either way, for Lindsey McDonald, it was a win-win situation.
Life was good.
Lobby, Hyperion Hotel
October 17th, 2001
Lilah walked down into the lobby, as the AI Team started going their separate ways off to investigate the strange...collapsing organs problem. Huh. Three cases over five weeks. A bit long for it to be your standard demon feeding on a human, actually. They usually ate a little faster than that.
But it wasn't really her concern. Wesley hadn't asked for her to take part in this investigation, and now that she had a new angle to pursue with regard to the location of her mother, Lilah really didn't care either.
"I'll just stay here," Lilah heard Fred said from the front desk, and then the Texan laughed awkwardly. "Okay. I'll do that."
"Probably a good idea, that." Lilah agreed under her breath. The woman was mostly useless as it was, so she could just as well stand there and do nothing. She walked towards Wesley's office and opened the doors, wondering why he didn't bother to lock it when he left, since the 'enemy' still did live in the building. When Angel was here, Lilah supposed it made some sense – but when he wasn't here, like now...
More likely he just knows there's not much incentive for me to steal. Because there isn't much to steal here that I'd actually have any interest in, and I'm not going to report back to Wolfram and Hart on his plans or projects anyway.
Not to mention that if things did go missing or something along those lines, she'd be his first logical suspect. And Wesley wouldn't be as interested in 'beyond all reasonable doubt', the way a jury was supposed to be.
Lilah found the book she'd come for and pulled it off Wesley's shelf. Grabbing a blank sheet of paper – which took some finding, amidst all his scribbled notes and newspaper clippings – Lilah wrote a note of her own on it and left it atop the desk.
I have your copy of Rheinhart's Compendium. On the off chance you need it before I'm done with it, feel free to come and take it. As usual, you don't need to feel obligated to knock or honor a locked door.
Save me some dirty looks,
Lilah
The lawyer chuckled to herself on the last line and started out of the office. Fred was still standing there awkwardly, and Lilah laughed. This was too good of an opening to pass up.
"It's hopeless, you know."
Fred gave a small start and a jump at Lilah's words, looking startled. "What do you mean?" She asked after a moment.
"You and Angel. I mean really, if you go in for the hero type? I can see why you'd have a crush on him." Lilah explained.
"I don't have a –" Fred started, before looking embarrassed and shutting herself up. Then she added, "I mean, he's nice and handsome and really listens when you speak –"
"He's a product of the era when women were considered to be useful for nothing more than having the babies, and taking care of the man's household. And he's emotionally stunted and ridiculously old fashioned, not nice. He's more look than touch, and the walking corpse 'really listens' because he doesn't have much to contribute to the average normal – or what passes for normal around here – conversation." Lilah disagreed. "But really, don't take my word for it. I'm having fun watching you crush on him and gush about how wonderful he is. Of course, the crash and burn will be even more fun to witness, when the time comes." Lilah gave Fred a little smirk. "So have fun. I know I will."
Lilah walked upstairs, past Fred – who was just kind of staring blankly at the wall for the moment.
Huh. Wonder if I broke her.
Probably not. The girl was, while still utterly kooky from her time in Pylea, proving to be alarmingly chipper most of the time. She'd probably talk herself into dismissing Lilah's words in a little bit. Which, of course, would only make it all the more fun for her later on.
Lobby, Hyperion Hotel
October 18th, 2001
Lilah had stayed in her rooms the rest of the evening and night, going over everything she had, trying to see if she could make anything of the brainwave she'd come up with. She didn't have anything for certain, since she had no easy way to get a look at Lindsey's financial records, but she had an idea. Not much of one, but it was an idea. A start.
Lindsey wasn't going to be tucking her mother away into a place the rest of the firm knew about – not for long, anyway. But he'd want a doctor on hand, if he wanted to ensure her co-operation. What with her mother's...medical problems...that was pretty much a given. Of course, for all I know she's already –
Lilah shut down that train of thought before it could go anywhere. Lindsey made sure she got proof of life every few weeks. She'd have preferred more often, but there was no way she was going to ask Lindsey for more often. He even made sure she had updates on her mother's medical and mental condition. Nothing she could trace or use – no signatures, no doctors names...
And it wasn't as if any of the drugs her mother was on were hard to get, or so rare that she could try tracing anything that way.
But there were only so many doctors (even in L.A.) that would be willing to treat someone who was being held hostage, and treat a patient outside of a hospital or proper clinical environment – and do it for Wolfram and Hart. It wasn't a short list, unfortunately, but it was a list. And she could narrow that list down by looking into those doctors, seeing if something had changed for them in recent months. Especially their bank accounts. Lindsey would pay well for their silence, that was pretty obvious.
There was a vampire she knew. One that didn't like Wolfram and Hart all that much. And more importantly, one that had been a doctor before he'd been turned. Someone who knew, better than she did, which doctors she could take off her list, plus which ones she might want to add onto it. She didn't trust the vampire far as she could kick him, but apparently he rarely fed directly off humans. Something about it being too vulgar for his taste. Which was why he ran a blood bank, among other things. Skim a bit of blood off the top, mix it in with his coffee, and he could be refined and urbane with the best of them.
Wolfram and Hart hadn't shut him down, even though the upper echelons of the firm knew he didn't like them, because his blood bank serviced a lot of Wolfram & Hart's undead muscle or the vampiric muscle of their clients. Which meant she couldn't actually meet him at his office.
Which makes it a good thing that I know who you are, and know where you live, Richard Mayweather.
Unfortunately, that left her with one small problem. Because Angel hadn't exactly stopped following her around when she checked out the paltry leads she'd picked up since he'd killed her best one. And the last thing she needed was that undead self-righteous son of a bitch staking another one of her leads. And so she was going to make sure that Angel got the message very clearly.
When she got down into the lobby, she saw no one else – then Fred came out of the office, looking cheerful and happy. And as the almost giddy-looking Texan twig bounded up one of the flights of stairs, Lilah heard the sound of Angel whistling in Wesley's office.
Whistling.
Angel? Whistling?
Angel did not whistle.
So hearing him do it was disconcerting, to say the least. She walked into Wesley's office, hearing him shred some kind of document – Lilah would never have guessed he even knew how to use a shredder.
"And what can I do for you?" Coming from anyone else, that tone could have sounded almost an attempt at flirting. From Angel – well, Angel didn't flirt.
"Not following me tonight would be a good start." Lilah told him flatly. "If you can't manage that, then not killing my lead would be a good second. If you screw it up for me, I will douse your bed in gasoline and light it on fire while you're in it." She smirked, "And then roast marshmallows over it." She actually wouldn't do the latter. She'd never liked marshmallows – too fluffy and sweet for her taste. But that wasn't exactly the point.
Because she was sincere in her threat.
For a split second, Lilah thought she saw a confused look on Angel's face, but it was gone too quickly for her to be sure.
"Sure." Angel didn't sounded fazed by the death threat, but that wasn't surprising either. Just as long as he knew she meant it. "Consider your lead safe." He stood up and walked over to the window that looked out into the lobby and –
When did Wesley get a martini tray in his office?
Angel poured two martinis and dropped an olive in each one. He held up a glass and offered it to her. "How about a drink?"
"You feeling alright, Angel? Someone spike your morning meal with some magic mushroom extract, or whatever?" Angel offering her a drink was strange enough – Angel offering her a drink while sounding something resembling cheerful? Now that was something else entirely. Carefully, she looked at the drink, then took it.
"There's something wrong with offering a very beautiful woman a drink?" Angel asked, looking her over as he sat down on the desk.
Okay. Someone has definitely spiked his blood with
– something. Had to have been Gunn or Cordelia – some kind of crazy office prank. Smirking a little internally, she decided to watch and see how this played out.
"Well, not as such, no. But we don't exactly get along." Lilah pointed out, taking a sip of her martini.
"And that can't change?" Angel held up his own glass and clinked it against hers. Looking interested, Lilah sat down in one of the chairs.
"What? So is this the plan? Play friendly and get me drinking, so that I tell you what you and Wesley want to know after I end up plastered?" Lilah looked over at him and raised one eyebrow, crossing one leg over the other. "Or are you seriously trying to be friendly for the sake of it?" She took another sip of her drink. It took a lot more than one martini to get her drunk, and Lilah had gotten drunk just the one time in her entire life.
"Uh, yeah. I'm just offering you a drink. There's a lot to be said for being friendly, you know." Angel said, and this time, it really did sound like flirting – not the world's greatest flirting, but flirting nonetheless.
Lilah blinked and started to stand up. Angel was coming on to her? Her? There was definitely something wrong here.
And? So what if the vampire's hitting on you? Not like he's going to get a moment of perfect happiness from doing the mattress mambo with
you. It's probably why he's doing this in the first place. Lilah laughed internally, and started to walk away, only to be blocked by Angel's leg. "Oops?" He didn't even try to look innocent. The vampire stood up and stepped in closer to her.
"Alright. Fine. But you're the one explaining this to Wesley afterwards." Lilah offered with a smirk. She'd love to see that too. Something was more than off with the undead asshole, but hey – he was a very good looking man, and Lilah wasn't going to turn down a chance to do it with Angel – even if someone clearly had spiked his blood with some kind of mind-bending drug.
I'm not a good person, after all. No chivalry for me.
Besides, she hadn't gotten laid in quite a while.
Things happened quickly after that, and before she knew it, they were bent over on Wesley's desk, Angel's shirt ripped open and books and paperwork scattered all over the floor and then Angel's lips were on her neck...
Lilah reacted to the sharp, biting pain instantly. The cross in her pocket – she always had one – was in her hand quicker than even she'd expected and pushing up against Angel's chest. Her other hand was on her throat as she backed away, holding the cross out towards him.
"I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you, you sick son of a bitch, but –"
"What the – are you born again all of a sudden?" the vampire interrupted her.
Lilah frowned – Angel looked like he had no idea why she was holding a cross. That kind of 'what the hell' look wasn't faked easily, and she knew – she knew – Angel wasn't that good of a liar.
She'd thought something was off with Angel before. Now she had proof that it definitely was. What, exactly, Lilah had no fucking clue; but she was fairly sure who could figure it out.
One hand still on her bleeding neck, Lilah was out of the hotel in a matter of moments – and a few seconds later, she was at the payphone on the street corner less than a block away.
Come on, come on... Lilah cursed mentally, as she dialed the number. Two seconds later, Wesley picked up on the other end of the line.
"Wyndam-Pryce here." He answered crispy.
"Wesley, get your ass back to the hotel. Now!"
"Lilah, I'm rather in the middle of –"
"I don't care what the fuck you're in the middle of! Unless Angel's decided to go back on a human diet, there's something wrong with him!" Lilah cut him off, her tone harsh. "Damn it, Wes, I just had his fangs in my throat!"