******

"Ok, so, the announcer would give some sort of announcement about . . ."

"The fabulous Lady Lindsey," Angel finished with a smile, sliding his hands behind his head, gazing at Lindsey. He had propped himself on the pillows as Lindsey balanced at the foot of the bed, naked except for Angel's sweater.

"Don't interrupt," Lindsey snapped. "Ok, so he'd go in this pseudo-sexy voice, 'And here she is, the woman of your dreams, the fabulous Lady Lindsey.' And everyone would go crazy because I was the best looking, most fabulous person in there. The most talented too." He stepped forward, placing his legs on either side of the vampire's body. "Then, I'd come out on stage," he grinned at his lover, "and I was really beautiful then."

"You still are."

Lindsey kicked him "Shhh!! So, I'd go out on stage and I'd flip my hair like this," Lindsey demonstrated, then thrust his hip out. "I'd give them all this look." He gave Angel his patented *look *.

"I like that look." Angel tried to trip Lindsey, but the drag queen evaded him nimbly.

"I'd give them this look and a little smile, walk over to the microphone and start to sing. I had a whole repertoire of songs; sometimes they'd request something, but I didn't always give them what they wanted. You have to leave them wanting more, you know. Momma told me that it's good show business."

"But not me." Angel sat up, reaching for him.

Lindsey pushed him back down. "Aren't you going to let me sing?"

Angel groaned. "Don't ask these tough questions! It's like asking me to chose between sex with you or something else really good. It's too hard."

The drag queen placed his foot on Angel's chest, holding him down. "You've been having sex with me for two days; I wanna sing. I want to show you what I did during college."

"I know what you did during college, Lin," the vampire replied with a suggestive leer.

"I want to show you what *else * I did in college."

"Fine," Angel sighed, defeated. He laid back down.

Lindsey cleared his throat, tossed his head back (the wig was still at Caritas), thrust out his hip and gave Angel the *look. * The look wasn't quite the same without the false eyelashes, but Angel had made Lindsey line his eyes before giving him his private performance, so it was close. Besides, Lindsey had the look down pat.

"Let me. . ." Lindsey began, his voice throaty and warm.

"Wait, stop!"

"What?" he cried with melodramatic anguish.

"You're not wearing any lipstick. It's just not the same." Angel pouted.

The tortured drag queen sighed. "It's in my purse."

Angel slid off the bed and grabbed the red purse. He opened it and rummaged through. "All I see is lube and condoms. Christ, how many men were you planning on sleeping with?"

Lindsey shrugged. "It's good to be prepared. Gimme." He held out his hand. Angel gave him the purse. Sitting down, Lindsey pulled out lipstick, liner, and a mirror, lined his lips painted them, pursed, and presented himself to Angel with a perfect pucker.

The vampire kissed him gently, so as not to smudge the paint job. "Perfect. Wait." He got back in bed, laid back, and gazed at Lindsey expectantly. "Ok, I'm ready. Dazzle me, baby."

"Let me, entertain you," Lindsey sang, rising slowly.
"Let me, make you smile." The hips rotated.
"Let me do a few tricks
Some old and then some new tricks
I'm very versatile." One foot slid up Angel's leg, toes tickling.
"And if you're real good, I'll make you feel good
I want your spirits to climb."

Something, not Angel's spirit, indeed began to climb.

"So let me," hip thrust
"Entertain you. And we'll have a real good time, yes sir.
We'll" hip thrust
"Have" the hips began a slow rotation and

"Angel!" Cordelia said, throwing open the door as Lindsey thrust his butt back towards it. "Where. . .Oh my. Wesley!" she yelled down the hall, eyes on Lindsey and Angel. "You're right! Lindsey's ass *is * awesome."

"What!" they could hear Gunn shout.

"Shit!" Lindsey squeaked, throwing himself off the bed to the floor, hiding from Cordelia.

"Cordelia, what the hell do you think you are doing?" the vampire demanded, sitting up.

"Hello, moving day, remember? You were supposed to be downstairs with the coffee and donuts for the welcome return to Angel Investigations. Instead, you're up here with Lindsey." She cocked her head, trying to see Lindsey from where she stood in the door. "Not that I can't see why," she added with a dirty smile.

"Aren't you a lesbian?" Angel scowled.

"Bi-sexual! That means I can still check out guys."

Lindsey stuck his head over the side of the bed. "Wait. What day is it?"

"Monday," the seer responded.

"Fuck! I thought it was Sunday." He scrambled over the bed, across Angel, grabbing at the pair of sweat pants the vampire had let him wear when they had gone shopping for food the night before.

"Lin? Where you going?"

Lindsey threw his purse over his shoulder and ran into the bathroom. "Ah've got ta go ta work!" His accent was suddenly very pronounced.

"What? No, you said you were going to stay."

The running water from the bathroom muffled the drag queen's response.

Cordelia leaned against the wall. "So, how was your week-end?" she asked with a knowing smirk.

"Don't you have a teen shelter director to hit on?"

"I called her. We're meeting tonight. I've got nothing to do until then."

Lindsey stepped out of the bathroom, legs still bare, brushing his teeth.

"Wow, you even shaved your legs," Cordelia remarked. "Very nice."

"Had to; didn' wan' to get a run in the stockings," Lindsey replied around a mouthful of foam. "Ah gotta go work, Angel."

"No, you don't. Stay here; they'll get the point."

"But I. . Hol' on." Lindsey went back into the bathroom to spit.

"Since when does he talk like he just left the plantation?" Cordelia asked.

"When he's upset or," Angel leered, "really excited."

"Oh, Angel! Harder!" she cried in a thick Southern accent. "Like that?"

"Yeah, something like that."

Lindsey, who had apparently not heard Cordelia's imitation, re- entered the bedroom, sweat pants in hand. "I haven't talked to them since Darla disappeared. Since the seventy five year review. They probably searched my house this weekend, left messages. If I don't go back, they'll send assassins after me."

"And if you go back, they'll kill you."

"Not in the office. It's too much trouble. Only do it in cases where someone is going to betray them. I'm not."

"Sleeping with the enemy isn't betrayal?" Cordelia asked, twisting her head to look under Lindsey's sweater.

"Cordelia, stop checking him out!"

Her head snapped to it's full upright position. "What?" she asked innocently.

The expression Lindsey threw at her was something between a smile an a glare as he pulled the sweat pants on.

Angel sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Lindsey, you can't go back."

"Angel, I'm goin' back. You can't make me stay." The drag queen crossed his arms over his chest, looking firm. "And, I'm goin' alone."

"No."

"You can't tell me what to do."

The two men glared at each other.

"Boy, guess the honeymoon is over. That didn't take long," Cordelia remarked, picking something off the floor.

Lindsey walked over to the bed and gathered his 'pretty' clothes. "I'm going, Angel. Sorry."

Angel wrapped the sheets around his waist and stood. He handed something to Lindsey. "Are you going to come back?" he asked, voice soft.

"If I'm not dead, yeah, I guess." Lindsey fiddled with the object, one of his fake breasts.

"And if they give you a raise?"

Lindsey looked silently at Angel, as if thinking the question over. He stood on his tiptoes and kissed Angel quickly on the lips. "I promise I'll come back." Under Angel's intense gaze, he flushed and looked away, running a hand through his hair. His gaze became more pointed and he asked, "Anyone see my other breast?"

Cordelia thrust something behind her back. "You're what?"

Angel rolled his eyes. "Give it to him, Cordy."

"But it feels so neat!" she whined, handing Lindsey the pale, life- like object.

"You have two of your own," Lindsey replied, slipping both into his purse.

"It's not the same." She sighed again, and moved her gaze to the red shoes at the foot of the bed. "Lindsey, what size shoe do you wear?"

"No," he said, going into the bathroom.

"Didn't your mom ever teach you to share?"

"Momma told me that sharing's all well and good, but not to let grabby bitches touch what matters." He stuck his head out, a wicked smile on his face. "Why else do you think I'm gay?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Where did you get them?"

"Graduation present; Momma didn't tell me where she bought 'em."

"That is some fucked up mom," Cordelia muttered, eyeing the stilettos, envioulsy.

"Delia," Angel said warningly.

"Angel, can you call me a cab?" Lindsey called.

Angel walked to the bathroom. "What do you need a cab for?"

"I didn't drive here, remember?"

"Take my car."

"What!" Cordelia exclaimed. "You're letting him take your car? That is *so * not fair. I deserve it and you've only let me drive it once." She sat on the floor, arms crossed over her chest, pouting.

Lindsey was gazing at Angel through wide eyes. "You're lettin' me take your car?"

"You said you were coming back."

"Oh. Right. I'll be back."

Angel walked back into the room and returned with the keys. "Come back soon."

"Yeah." Lindsey walked out of the bathroom, keys in hand, purse over his shoulder. He stopped by the door and leaned over the pouting seer. "Bye, Cordelia," he said, all Southern charm, dangling the keys in front of her face.

She rolled her eyes. "So not fair."

"If you stop pouting, I'll let you play with my breasts tonight."

She rose. "Tonight I'm planning on playing with *real * breasts, thank you very much. But thanks anyway."

Lindsey grinned.

The three left the room and went downstairs. As they passed the downstairs linen closet, they heard a muffled moan.

"Was that Wesley?" Angel asked.

"Yeah." Cordelia waved dismissively. "I think Gunn's making him pay for saying Lindsey had a cute ass."

There was another moan.

"There are almost a hundred rooms here. Half of them have beds. Some of those beds have sheets. Why a closet?"

"Believe me, Angel, after the other night, I almost wish they had *stayed * in the closet." The phone rang. "Excuse me." She walked away.

Angel grabbed Lindsey and kissed him hard. "Come back."

"I will. Later." Clutching the keys, Lindsey left the Hyperion Hotel.

*****
Part 2:

"Sorry to wake you, but . . ."

"Oh, honey, don't worry about it," the Host said, yawning. "Come in."

Lindsey followed the Host into the deserted karaoke bar. "Umm, my car's gone." He winced on hearing his voice; he hadn't gotten rid of the accent yet.

"I had someone take it to your apartment. Remember you left me a spare key after that time it was vandalized outside when you went home with some hot hunk? It should be in your garage."

"You know where I live? I mean, I moved."

The Host tapped his head as he walked behind the bar. "Whenever you sing, I find out lots of stuff about you." He pulled out a pot of coffee and poured himself a cup. "So, how was your weekend, sweetcheeks?" he asked with a lascivious smile.

Lindsey shrugged, dropping his eyes to the floor. As Lady Lindsey, he allowed himself to get emotional; the unfortunate side effect was that the emotions tended to linger. He knew that everyone knew what he had done that weekend, but somehow, he was still embarrassed. From how warm he felt, Lindsey knew his face was pink. He scuffed the floor with his toe. "It was fine."

"Baby, please don't be a tease. It's just too early. It was 'fine?' Either you're being coy, or the legends about the great Angelus are highly exaggerated." The Host winked and placed his hand over his heart. "And *please * say it isn't so. I need some sort of vicarious action. So, spill, sweety. One queen to another."

"Ok, it was better than fine." Lindsey walked over to the bar. Leaning into the Host conspiratorially, he said, "Angel is wonderful, a god. In fact, he's probably better than anything you've heard."

Red eyes grew round with delight. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. And you know how they say size doesn't matter? Well, they weren't talking bout Angel when they said it."

The Host grinned. "I *knew * it. I can tell these things. No one looks *that 8 good without having talent in the bedroom. It'd be too cruel." The Host began to fuss with Lindsey's hair. "No wonder you're glowing. You have that well fucked look about you. It looks good on you."

Lindsey grinned. "Well, I had a fantastic weekend, what can I say? I was wondering, though. . ."

"Here." The Host pulled out Lindsey's wig, mounted on a styrofoam head. "I styled it last night; I was bored. Some freak of a demon with no rhythm came in to sing, guess what?"

"The Rhythm is Going to Get You?"

"Yes. Oh God, he was awful. And all to see if his woman was cheating on him. To calm down I spent two hours styling my drag queen Ken and after safetly tucking him away with closeted queer Ken, the nightmare still keeping me awake, I decided to do something pretty. You know, since you were busy."

Lindsey flashed a smile at the Host as he ran a reverant hand over the wig. "Thanks. It's beautiful. I should bring all my wigs to you." He winked at the Host. "You do great work." He turned and looked almost regretfully at the stage before saying, "I should go. I was on my way to work."

"Lindsey, wait." The Host put a halting hand on his arm. "I want to talk to you."

"'Bout what?" Lindsey stopped.

"I want offer you a job."

"What?"

"The firm is killing you, baby. If they don't kill you physically any time soon it won't matter 'cause spiritually you'll be dead. *I * don't want that, * you* don't want that, *Angel * certainly doesn't want that. Sweet-pipes, * none* of us want that. You need to get out. And soon, while I can still make some money off of you."

"I know, I. . .it's hard. They can give me what I've always wanted."

The Host shook his head, knowingly. "Can they? Honey, I know you better than you know yourself. You've been here every month since Angel rolled into town . . .not to mention the times you'd come in just so you could sing "Bitch." I caught a few of your shows when you were in college, you know. I know what you want. No, I know what you need."

"So tell me what I want."

"The part your father beat into you wants the money, wants the prestige, wants the job with an edge. It's the part of you that is terrified of turning into a nobody just like him: the part of you that wants the Wolfram and Hart job. The part your momma drew out of you is the part that only wants - needs - the spotlight. That's the part that brings you up on stage. It's the * real* you."

Lindsey was clutching the wig head to his chest. "And if you are right? So what? Do you think I can just walk away from Wolfram and Hart?"

"You almost did once. Now, not only is Angel on your side, but he's in your bed. And I'm offering you a job. Come in, every night, week-ends, whatever, do a show. It'll draw in the customers. There are people who come in on the off chance that you might be here. The fabulous Lady Lindsey is a hit; people love her. Love you."

The drag queen considered it. "And you'll pay me?"

"Darling, of course I will."

Lindsey shook his head. "I don't know."

"Just think about it, ok? No pressure."

"Yeh, I'll think about it. Thanks." Lindsey left, his mind full of heavy thoughts.

* * *

Liliah Morgan was a survivor. Born on the streets - literally - raised by a mother who specialized in heavy drinking and abusive boyfriends until Lilah had been given over to the state and flushed into the system, she had risen above it all to become a lawyer for Wolfram and Hart. To become Co-Vice President in Charge of Special Projects. Far from relying on charity, Liliah had done it the old fashion way: sex, lies, and manipulation.

She wasn't going to lose now. She had survived her upbringing, she had survived the wine cellar massacre, and she would survive the repercussions of the seventy five year review.

The fact that Lindsey McDonald was no where to be found only made it that much easier.

"He never contacted you?" Nathan Reed, her direct superior and link to the senior partners, asked.

"No, sir. I haven't seen him since he did this." She delicately touched the fading bruise where Lindsey had punched her, eyes lowered to remind her superior that, above all, she was a lady.

Reed seemed unimpressed. "We've searched his apartment, hotel registries, the airport. Perhaps he's dead."

"His loss will be mourned by all."

"No, not really. He had promise, yes, but in the long run, he most likely would not have gone far. However, this does complicate matters. What to do with you?" The keen eyes fell on Liliah.

She raised an eyebrow coolly. "My co-vice president is dead or misplaced somewhere. It seems I now have the full power of the position. I hope to execute my duties to your satisfaction."

"Well, up to this point, you have not. But, we do like to think of ourselves as generous, at least when it suits our purpose. So . . ." His eyes suddenly focused on something over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but you can't be here." His voice was surprisingly gentle unlike his tone a moment ago when speaking to Liliah.

"Don't worry, Mr. Reed. This won't take long," the cloyingly sweet voice of a Southern belle - pure Scarlet O'Hara- said from behind Liliah.

The lawyer turned.

Standing just inside the doors was a vision of beauty. Liliah found herself reacting to the woman before she could stop herself. The woman caught her lapse and smirked.

"Always knew your dirty little secret, Liliah. Not that I'm one to talk, but at least I don't bury who I am under a pile of shame." The woman tossed her red hair behind her.

"Do you know this woman, Ms. Morgan?" Reed asked. He had moved closer to the woman, attraction and desire written clearly across his face.

Liliah ran here eyes over the woman. There *was * something familiar in the beautiful face. Something about the eyes. "I don't know, sir. Do we?"

"You mean you don't recognize me? And you, Mr. Reed?" Her hand reached out and traced Reed's face, caressing his cheek.

Liliah was immediately, intensely jealous.

"No, ma'am, I don't. Please enlighten me. I would hate to think I've forgotten one as lovely as yourself." He was very obviously smitten.

The woman sighed. "Well, how about now?" The sweet voice was dropped and replaced by something lower and more familiar.

Liliah felt as if she had been socked in the stomach. "Jesus Christ. Lindsey?"

"Yup."

"What the hell?"

Lindsey ran a hand down his body, presenting himself. He was wearing a loose purple skirt that went to his knees, black silk stockings, purple heels, and a black blouse. He pursed his lips. "What? Don't you like it? You seemed to a moment ago," he leered. " And besides, you're hardly one to criticize my fashion taste. Look at you."

"What's wrong with . . .Never mind."

"Mr.McDonald, what is the meaning of this?" Reed demanded. He was red, a sick expression on his face. He had stepped away from Lindsey, placing a chair between them.

"I quit, Mr. Reed, resignation effective immediately. I can't work here anymore and I would advise you not to send anyone after me. I'm planning on sticking around for quite some time."

"Quit? After everything we have done for you, after everything Holland Manners did for you . . ."

"Sir, Holland Manners is dead."

Reed bristled. "You signed a contract."

"And that contract says that if I decided to terminate my employment I will be allowed to live as long as I do not betray the firm. And I am not planning any such betrayle. So, you have no grounds." Lindsey pulled a compact out of his purse and checked his face. "Also," he continued, powdering his nose, "I still have some files. A girl needs to protect herself, right?" The compact closed and Lindsey met Reed's eyes squarely. "You might want to think about what that means." The expression brightened. "Well, I'm through here. I'll clean out my desk and be gone. Bye." He turned to go. "Oh, and Liliah? Stick to warm colors; you look like shit." He blew her a kiss then Lindsey McDonald traipsed out of the room, a scented cloud of his tasteful perfume lingering in the air.

Liliah and Reed gazed at each other in amazement.

"Are you really going to let him go?" Liliah asked.

"We have no legal ground to send a crew after him. Even by our standards."

The lawyer tilted her head. "But he gave us such an easy way to hide his death."

"Yes, I know. Nothing makes me happier than when a hate-crime waiting to happen walks into my office and quits." Reed grinned. "Kill him, make it look dirty, and do it fast."

"Yes sir."

* * *

"Angel? Angel!"

"Let's try on three. One, two, three."

"Angel!" Gunn, Wesley, and Cordelia yelled as one.

The vampire turned. "What?"

"You have not heard one thing we have said for the last half hour," Cordelia informed him.

"I have too."

"Really?" asked Wesley. "Then why is it you simply nodded and smiled when we decided that the third item on the agenda was to drum up more business by crucifying you in front of the Hyperion?" The former Watcher raised an eyebrow.

Angel shrugged. "Because I knew it would draw in a crowd?"

Gunn rolled his eyes. "Only until the sun rose. Dude, he said he'd come back. If he doesn't, screw him."

"That's what he did all weekend," Cordelia informed Gunn.

Wesley leaned forward. "Did you make him wear the shoes while you . . ." he trailed off meaningfully.

"Of course I did. What do you think I am, stupid?"

"Give me a T. Give me a M. Give me an AHHHHHH," Cordelia's cheer was cut of by the sudden blinding pain that shot through her.

Angel caught her before she hit the floor.

"They're going to kill her!" she gasped. "Kill her and . . . no, wait. They're going to kill *him. * Oh God, it's Lindsey."

Angel almost dropped Cordelia. "Where?"

"They're at the pier. They're going to kill him at the pier."

Wesley and Gunn rose, reading to leave. "What is he doing at the pier?"

"I think they took him there. Hurry, let's go."

"We'll have to take your car, Gunn," Angel said, grabbing his coat. "I lent Lindsey mine."

"Oh, someone really thought this day out well. What were you planning to do if she had a vision?" Gunn demanded.

The vampire shrugged. "Sewers? I don't know, I just needed to make sure he was coming back."

"You are one insecure vampire. Let's go."

* * *

Lindsey had not thought the day through very well. If he had, he would have known that going into the office dressed as he did was possibly the worst idea he had ever had. Never give them an opening.

Now, he was on the beach, soaked, head pounding, trying to hide from his attackers. They hadn't expected him to gain consciences so quickly. He had lain in the back of the car, waiting for them to stop. The moment they did, he had leapt out, which isn't a really good idea when you're in three inch heels because what happened was he had fallen and fucked up his ankle. But, he had quickly kicked them off - once again, hard, because they had ankle straps so he hurt his ankle more - and, ignoring the pain, had started to run away as fast as he could.

Now he was waist deep in water, trying to hide among the pylons of the pier. The waves were rough and kept hitting him in the face. Lindsey had pressed himself against one, heart pounding, praying that the tide was going out so he wouldn't drown before he could escape.

Because dying wasn't an option.

"We can just tie him to one," one of the men said. "Make sure the wigs on tight, gag him so he'll drown. Tide's coming in."

Shit.

"She said painful. Carve something on him with a knife like 'faggot' or something. Hear that, fruitcake? Your partner wants you to bleed," the other called.

Lindsey pressed his lips together to surprises anything that might slip out, willing himself to become invisible.

"Hello, boys. What are we killing tonight?"

There were two muffled exclamations, then the sound of necks breaking.

"Obviously you," Darla finished saying.

Lindsey closed his eyes, his lashes sticking together from the dampness. This night got worse and worse.

"I can smell you, you know. All that fear. All that lovely perfumed fear. I like the smell of fear. . .and your perfume. Why don't you step out where I can see you?" Darla crooned. "If you're pretty, I might just make you one of us."

"Us?" Lindsey said, startled.

"Vampire. Oh, I'm alone, but there are thousands of us out there. Millions. You could be part of a family. One of the many beautiful children of the night. Of course, if your ugly, I'm just going to kill you." She laughed softly.

Bitch would rather turn some random woman than Lindsey. Figured.

"I think I'll pass." Lindsey made sure to keep his voice soft and sweet, just like Momma taught him.

There was silence for a moment. Lindsey tensed, wondering if he should try and swim away, held back by the terror of being smashed against the pylons.

A large wave came and hit Lindsey, splashing his face. He coughed violently.

"You can't escape. There's no where for you to go. Come out, let me see you."

"Go away!"

There was a sudden splash as Darla entered the water. Lindsey began to move, getting ready to swim away, when her icy hand clamped onto his arm. She yanked him out from his cover.

"My, you are pretty. Strong too, I can tell. You'd make a good. . . " Her eyes suddenly widened as she got a good look at him. "Oh my God."

"What?"

She started to laugh. "Lindsey? Lindsey McDonald?" She laughed harder. "This is certainly a new look for you."

"No, not really." He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his eyes of salt water. One of the false eyelashes fell off and into the water.

"If I had known, maybe I would have been more interested." She looked him up and down. "Well, maybe not."

He bristled. "I'm a hundred times more pretty than you. I mean, look at your hair. Nice color, but all it does is lie there. Limp. And you've got a nice enough face, but . . .naw. There's something hard in it. Unattractive."

"How dare you!"

"Look at me. That's how I dare. Men want me. *Angel * wants me. You. . ."

Darla slapped him hard, then kicked him in the stomach. He fell, splashing into the water, gasping for air.

"I was prepared to give you an easy death. After all, you sheltered me, took care of me. But now all I can see is a fallen queen, a nobody." She lifted him and flung him onto dry land.

"I am the fabulous Lady Lindsey. I am not and never have been a nobody!" He tried to rise, fell on his ankle, then began to crawl away, out from the cover of the pier. "You are just some vampire whore!" he called back.

She ran to him and kicked him in the face. Lindsey was flung onto his back. Darla lifted him and punched him.

"Like you're any better. Probably some two bit slut who'll do it for free." She punched him again, flinging him farther out onto the sand. "I may have been a whore, but at least I was professional. I slept with men for a reason, you just do it to feel used."

"But I must be better for all my amatureness. Angel didn't kick *me * out of his bed." Lindsey spat some blood out and glared up at her. "In fact, he was upset to see me go."

"Is that so?" She went to him and slapped him again, "My poor boy, slumming. Knowing that he couldn't have me again must have ruined his tastes. Tell me, Lindsey," she asked, taking firm hold of his chin, bruising the skin on his jaw, "if he wants you so much where is he now?"

"Right here.

Darla was ripped away from Lindsey and flung across the sand.

"You ok?" Angel asked. The vampire reached down and gently brushed Lindsey's cheek.

Lindsey was breathing heavily, gazing up at Angel through wide eyes. "Yeah. How . .."

"Later." Angel turned. "I'm sorry, Darla. Really, I am. But this ends here, tonight. Right now."

"How could you?" she demanded, her voice and eyes showing how deeply she felt betrayed. "I mean, the Slayer is one thing. At least she looked like me. But that?"

Angel gazed tenderly at Lindsey. "Don't feel bad, Darla. It's not like everyone could be the fabulous Lady Lindsey. It's not like anyone could be Lindsey McDonald. Just because you didn't even come close doesn't mean anything, just, you're one of the crowd." His gaze shifted to behind her. "Wesley?"

Darla spun, but it was too late. Wesley had already crept up behind her. On Angel's word, he plunged the stake into her heart.

With one last anguished scream, Darla disappeared into a cloud of dust.

Everyone was silent for a moment, eyes on Angel. He was looking at the spot where Darla had been standing, at the ashes that blended in with the sand.

He sighed. "Good-bye." Then, turning away, he went to Lindsey. "You ok?"

There was a moment of tense silence before the drag queen burst into tears. "No! I lost my shoes and my ankle hurts. My wigs ruined and they tried to kill me and no one wants me! Why didn't she want me, Angel? Only for a second when she thought I was a woman but what's wrong with me? Why doesn't anyone . . ." He began crying harder, unable to speak. Lindsey drew his legs to his chest, hiding his face, rocking slightly.

Angel's arms slid around him. "I want you," he said softly.

Lindsey sobbed harder, shaking his head.

The vampire pulled him around so Lindsey's face was cradled against Angel's chest. "Shhh, it's all right, Lindsey, it's all right." He pulled the wig off, dropping it carelessly to the sand so he could kiss Lindsey's hair.

Gradually, Lindsey, comforted by his lover's embrace, calmed down. The sobbing stopped and the tears slowed to a slight trickle. When Angel lifted Lindsey's head, the drag queen found he could meet Angel's eyes.

Angel kissed his forehead, then rested their heads together. "You ready to go home now? Take a bath, listen to some music. Let me make you happy? Cordelia's got some sort of bath gel stuff that I'm sure she'd lend you."

"Only if he promises to go shopping with me this week-end," the seer called. "He's got the best fashion sense."

Lindsey laughed slightly and wiped his face. Angel's eyes bore into his, loving and welcoming. In the distance he could see Cordelia, Gunn, and Wesley, watching him and Angel, no signs of hostility on their faces.

How can you say no to a group that's willing to trust you?

Looking back at Angel, Lindsey sighed, "Yeah. Let's go home."

~Fin~