"Have you heard about Angel?" Gavin had asked her, strolling into her office uninvited with a wide shit-eating grin on his face. "He's missing. No one has any idea where he is."
Lilah didn't really understand how losing track of Angel was considered a good thing, but with the state of Special Projects these days, Linwood apparently thought it was top form to have Angel completely out of LA. They were talking up the benefits of the erraticism of his actions in the report being composed for the Senior Partners. However, if their bosses were unhappy with the turn of events, Gavin assured her, Linwood knew exactly where to point the finger, especially after a certain employee's questionable recent activities. Lilah had a nice amount of fury going on when she finally got him the hell out of there, and locked the door for good measure. When she finally managed to hack into Gavin's file, she was briefly and amusedly distracted as she read the reports on those two- Fred and Gunn- as they had apparently pitifully asked around everywhere to see if, hey, anyone had seen a souled vampire they had accidentally misplaced. Yes, the file really was interesting; apparently Cordelia had come to her senses and left as well (current whereabouts unknown) and her boyfriend had taken off too, but had ended up back in Pylea without her (according to their branch there.) And on top of that, Krevlorneswath had turned up in Vegas, and was currently a hostage at the Tropicana, though he didn't appear to have any extra information on Angel. Oh, also, Wesley was still separated from the group. Lilah wondered if the idiots at the Hyperion had bothered to ask for his help yet. If they had, of course, that would mean that he knew Angel had gone missing already, and did not even bother to tell her.
She supposed she should really go and find out tonight.
She was still oh-so-stressed from her day at work- that fucking Linwood- and it had been two days since she'd seen him last. In the end, she decided not to stop at home first, but rather grab an emergency bottle of wine from her stash at the office, and just head on over.
In spite of her day, she felt a smile slip on her face as she approached his door, but she banished it in favor of an aloof expression, as she gave his door two casual knocks. It took him a minute longer than usual to answer the door, and when he did, she had to struggle for a second to keep her expression neutral.
"Lilah."
She put on a smirk and pushed past him, as he made no movement to either welcome her or hinder her progress.
The shades were opened, and the place looked recently cleaned.
Wesley shut the door behind her and turned, and Lilah could see that he was clean-shaven, with ironed clothes on, and, most interestingly, he did not reek of alcohol. Not a bit. She looked him in the eye.
"Lilah," he said again, sighing and squeezing his eyes shut for a weak second. His face was guarded and neutral, and so very, very wrong. It should be passionate, with anger and hate and lust. They should be halfway to the bedroom by now, hindered only by the growling of obscene insults and the need for more alcohol.
Ooh. Alcohol. She held the bottle up invitingly, but he shook his head, and took a breath as if steeling himself.
"I think you should leave. Lilah, I'm not... we're not going to do this anymore." His voice was calculated. Still low and damaged, but calm, and cultured. It was kind of a turn-on.
Not as much as the hatred, of course, but still. It was cute.
"Okay," she said agreeably. "Can't do this anymore. Sure." She waited a second, then held the bottle up again. His gaze turned slightly irritated. "What?"
"Lilah..."
"I'm sure we could both use a drink to mourn the tragic end of this doomed affair."
"I don't want that, Lilah. I want you to leave."
"Oh, you want?" She sat herself on the couch, and kicked her heels off. "Well, I just had the most awful day at work. Being evil can really make you tense sometimes, I won't lie. But the benefits?" She took a drink straight out of the bottle. "They far outweigh the little distractions. For instance, I got the most fascinating news today about Angel." She met his stare for a moment, and could tell that he knew. "Yup." She broke eye contact and inspected the bottle as though it was a fascinating prophecy of doom.
"What do you know?"
"Come find out."
"Lilah- no. Get out."
"Make me." He crossed his arms across his chest and glared. "Jeez, Wes. Maybe I'd go if I didn't find the whole thing laughable. You're-what, breaking up with me? You're giving up the evil alcohol, and the evil lawyer, and making your flat all nice and tidy again? Maybe if you scrub everything really hard, it'll be clean enough for your friends at the Hyperion. Because, you know, I'm sure they're just looking for a reason to take you back, just missing you so much. Fuck, Wesley-"
"I don't need them. And I don't need you." Oh, his voice had that edge to it again. "And we both know by now there's no way I'm going to be working for Wolfram and Hart so I don't know-"
"What have you got then, Wes? No them, no me, just you, all alone, without even alcohol to drown your sorrows. I'm sure you'll be-" She was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He walked across the room and picked it up.
"Pryce here... yes. Good. No, that's okay. Yes. Six o'clock. All right then."
Fuck.
Lilah got up and walked over to him. He turned the cell off and set it back onto the counter.
"Wesley," she used a softer tone on him now. And let her arms slip around him. He made no move to either relax or push her away. "What do you want? What do you really want? Do you want to stop me right now? Do you want to grab me and shut me up?" She pressed herself against him.
"I want you to go away, Lilah." He remained still. "I won't. I don't need-"
"I know," she smiled, "you don't need anyone but yourself. But what do you want?" She nuzzled her lips lower, until she found his neck, his scar, still raw, and she darted her tongue against it, tasting slowly until he finally grasped her by her shoulders and pulled them apart. She left her tongue sticking out slightly, inviting him to kiss her.
And as though it was inevitable, he leaned forward, and found himself doing just that. Grudgingly gave way to passionately quickly, as they fell into the familiar dance of lust and need.
"You can't resist me Wesley," she gasped, scratching at the buttons of his shirt to just take the damn thing off already. He moaned at her neck, and it turned her on even more than the bantering, his admission of his desire for her. Lilah felt her hands move down from his shirt to his pants, and before she even realized what she was doing she felt herself kneel down to join them. Wesley leaned against the counter as she unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. With a lascivious glance upward, she took his hard (and oh, of course, for all of his earlier protestations, he was already so hard for her�) she took his hard cock into her mouth and started to go to work.
There were very few men Lilah Morgan would get on her knees for, but that didn't mean she didn't know a thing or twenty about doing this, about how to moan like that, and move like that, and he would be screaming her name for the world to hear before she was done with him. Yes she swished her tongue like that.
But before she could get him past incoherent groaning, he was reaching for her, pulling her off and up. And, before she could sputter a response, roughly grabbing her skirt and pulling it up. She tried to help by dealing with her pantyhose, without any pretense of caring if they survived intact, as long as they came off. The bedroom was much too far away, and the couch appeared to be too, but they made a doomed attempt towards it anyway, even though he was out, and hard, and why were there seconds passing where they weren't just fucking already? They crashed to the floor, him landing on her, and her landing on the end table next to the couch, smashing it into the floor, but it didn't matter, because now they were on the floor too, and he was pounding inside her so hard, like he would die without her. She howled and scratched her nails against the back of his neck. Then he was coming, and gasping her name as he did. It wasn't a scream, but somehow it was still the most wonderful sound in the world, and it pushed her over the edge.
They spent a few minutes entangled on the floor before Lilah realized the coaster she was lying on top of was really in quite an uncomfortable place. She wiggled out from under Wes and surveyed the damage.
"Guess nobody's gonna get to enjoy that now," she remarked, gesturing towards the broken bottle of wine, which was seeping all over the carpet and the once-neatly arranged papers which had fallen off the once-intact end table. She rubbed her hand across her sore back. "Pity. At least that table looked cheap."
Wesley looked nothing less than amused as he surveyed the damage. "I should make you clean the damned thing up."
"Oh?" She smiled. "Make me." He reached for her, but seemed more inclined to pull her close to him, rather than force her to do manual labor. She leaned back into his arms, and let him lead her to the bedroom.
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The next time Lilah was at his apartment, and indeed, all the times after that until the end, she always looked for it, always made sure it was still there. The light red stain on the carpet, which apparently no amount of scrubbing could get out.
End