By Fabrisse
Wesley/Lindsey
Summary: Lindsey visits Wesley
Dedication: For Jen who acts as my cheering section. With thanks to Gileswench, it's nice to have a twisted sister.
Rating: Hard R Slash with threatened violence
Disclaimer: All hail Joss sole owner and profiter from the below named characters. Not me.
Content: Spoilers for Angel through "The Trial"
Feedback: Always welcome.
Target shooting always relaxed Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. He'd hoped the hard workout he'd gone through would be enough, but it took using a weapon to really calm him. Very Freudian. He'd been practicing with knife, crossbow, and pistol for about 30 minutes now and was practically in a meditative state. The rumble of the elevator let him know he had company. He reloaded both the crossbow and the .38 almost without thinking. Wesley wasn't expecting Virginia tonight. Sleeping together meant getting less sleep, as it were, and they'd declared Thursday nights a sacrosanct "night apart" so that they could enjoy time with friends or alone or just catch up on sleep. So it was highly unlikely that it would be she, and Angel and Cordelia had not yet been told about the move. Maybe they'd never need to be. That was the beauty of cell phones.
Wesley picked up the weapons he'd just checked and loaded and stood at a strategic spot. Human or demon the elevator's occupant would be in his sights. It couldn't be a vampire; he hadn't invited any.
Nor had he invited Wolfram and Hart, but there was Lindsey. He brought up his gun and covered the younger man's heart. "If you come in, I will kill you." Wesley's tone was conversational.
"I'm alone. I wanted to talk to you, make you an offer. Nothing my employers know about." The gates to the elevator were opened, but Lindsey didn't try to venture inside.
Wesley's mouth quirked, "Any proposition that you have for the firm can be made from where you're standing." Lindsey interrupted. "Actually, this proposition is the right word is personal. Please may I come in?"
It occured to Wesley that Darla was probably looking for Lindsey and may have found him the night before. While he didn't think there were any underground connections to this warehouse, he couldn't be certain. "No, I won't invite you. Prove you're human and defy me."
Lindsey wasn't even hesitant; he took three steps from the elevator into the sunlight streaming in through the high windows.
"That's far enough." Wesley adjusted his position so that his shot was perfectly clear and sat on a high stool.
Lindsey looked around him, "Guess those reports of your claustrophobia were accurate. And you must really hate your boss: one entire wall is floor to ceiling windows and your ceilings are 40 feet. That they face south is just the icing on the cake."
"State your business and leave."
"You know the old saying, the enemy of my enemy is my friend?"
"We're just enemies. The elevator's behind you."
"No wait. Look, it took a lot for me to come here. Keep your gun on me, I see worse threats at the office, but at least let me sit down and maybe have a drink."
Wesley hated to admit it, but he was intrigued enough to want to hear what Lindsey had to say. He motioned the attorney to the living room area and indicated the bar with his free hand. "Help yourself. Sit in the chair facing mine. And I hardly need to tell you, no sudden moves."
Wesley continued to stand in order to keep Lindsey covered. It was interesting to watch how the man had adjusted to being one handed. Lindsey poured himself two fingers of gin and looked back at Wesley. "Vermouth to your left; tonic is in the fridge underneath." Lindsey filled the rest of the glass with tonic and walked to the indicated chair. They sat simultaneously.
After a couple of swallows, Lindsey put down his glass and looked straight at Wesley. "We're in love with the same person."
"I didn't know you knew Virginia. Though if you're referring to Darla, I can assure you she's not my type." Wesley hadn't moved a muscle. Lindsey looked appraisingly at the plain white cotton t-shirt and loose sweats covering the ex-Watcher. Somehow he hadn't expected Wesley to have this much control.
"I've never met your lady. Your boss, however, has an open invitation to my apartment. Twice he's nearly strangled me to death." Wesley saw Lindsey's mouth twitch as he unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. There, like black pearls, were finger marks. Lindsey began to smile at the memory.
"Nearly? I'm surprised he didn't complete the job when he had the chance." Wesley was doing his best to sound nonchalant, but somewhere inside him a voice shouted that Angel had never cared enough to mark him that way. "So, if we find out you've been strangled we should alert the coroner to check for semen stains? Thanks for the tip. If you're suffering the pangs for my employer, why did you turn down the chance to work with us?" Yes, his voice was still neutral, thank heaven.
"He already had one worshipper," Lindsey raised his glass in silent toast. "You were so blatant. Anyone who knows the signs could see that you were helplessly, passionately, and chastely in love. And I'll bet several years salary that chaste, or if you prefer unrequited, was not your idea." When he bent over to place the glass on the coffee table between them, Lindsey saw the other man's index finger tighten on the trigger. He leaned back in his chair, oozing confidence, jacket open, legs apart. "It occured to me that what Angel really wanted was a pretty young adversary. Read your Bible. My employers think they're playing me. I don't let them know that I'm playing them to get Angel. Or maybe Angelus."
"I'm positive that Gunn and Cordelia would help me dispose of your body if I killed you right now." Wesley concentrated on the man across from him. At the threat he'd just made, he'd seen Lindsey's trousers begin to tent.
"I realize now that I made a mistake where Angel was concerned. But you, Wesley, you're available. You want to hurt me like he does. And you want to hurt him. I'm the perfect revenge. We may both be bottoms, but since we want the same top I think we can improvise."
"Stay where you are, I'm getting myself a drink and I don't trust you."
"For someone who trips a lot you're keeping me in view without any trouble. Maybe we could be good for each other, Wesley. You obviously have no confidence problems around me." Lindsey was smiling to himself as he brought his drink to his lips. Wesley's hand snaked around Lindsey and grabbed his tie. The silk was tightened and Lindsey gasped for air.
"Two things you should know about me, Lindsey," Wesley's breath was hot against his ear. "I am a one person at a time man and right now that's Virginia." Wesley gave the tie another tug and was rewarded with another gasp. Very softly, in his other ear Wesley whispered, "and I've made it a point of pride, since leaving boarding school, that I've never slept with anyone for whom I haven't cared nor with anyone I haven't respected." Once more the silken noose was jerked. "You lose on both counts." As Wesley yanked one last time, Lindsey's mouth opened and instead of a gasp a moan of ecstasy escaped. Wesley released the tie as the lawyer's body shuddered and the silver white stain spread across his trousers.
Lindsey breathed deeply for a moment to recover. Over the finger marks there was now a red line; his collar wouldn't quite hide this mark.
"Get out of my house." The disgust in Wesley's voice was palpable. "If you return, I'll shoot first and explain to the nice policemen about the trespasser later."
Lindsey stood and walked to the elevator, watched by Wesley. The gun in the former Watcher's hand was no longer covering him, but Lindsey had no doubt that it could very quickly. Still he flirted with danger and Wesley by brushing his good hand across Wesley's hip as he passed.
As he closed the elevator and hit the button, Lindsey said, "Was it good for you, too?"
~ End ~