buffyverse1000 drabbles part 2
Written for buffyverse1000
Fred/Lilah/Virginia
Lilah’s always enjoyed being part of exclusive clubs. But she does not like being a member of the “Wesley’s Ex-Girlfriends Club,” which consisted of the rich, dead and twiggy.
She likes it even less when all three members accidentally end up in the same bar together.
Catty comments quickly turn into shrieking arguments, as Fred and Virginia blame Lilah for Wesley’s transformations and Lilah blames them for being the empty headed googly eyed lovers that had hindered Wesley more than helped him.
Virginia started off with some respectable alcoholic beverage, Fred did tequila and Lilah went for the scotch, but at the end the results were all the same and they were all horribly drunk.
Drunk enough that when Lilah sarcastically suggests that they find out who was the best lover, they took her up on it.
Drunk enough that Lilah decided to actually show them.
Drunk enough to prove that she was the best.
Fred/Lilah/Wesley
Fred used to think that threesomes were just perverted and gross. She’d never intended on ending up in this situation: lying in bed naked, limbs intertwined with Wesley… and Lilah. It hadn’t been Fred’s fault; Lilah must have poured something into her drink and the next thing Fred knew was they’d been kissing and Lilah mentioned something about Wesley and they’d ended up here… Fred’s a bit upset, yes. But she’s also interested now. Not just by Wesley, but by Lilah. Lilah’s warm lips and soft skin are a relieving contrast to Wesley’s rough cheeks and harsh kisses.
Fred’s intrigued.
~
Lilah always thought the world would have to end before she would ever lay a finger on Fred. Well, the world better end soon because Lilah’s never had to do such a distasteful thing. Fred’s the type of woman she despises and dreams about quietly slipping her hands around her neck and choking… The crazy things she’ll do for Wesley, to fulfill his deepest fantasies. She hopes he’ll actually realize the sacrifices she’s willing to make.
And maybe he could appreciate her for once?
~
Wesley used to think that having Fred and Lilah at the same time would be the most erotic encounter ever. Now he knows it is. But there’s also an aura of unease hovering over their bodies. The flickering glance on Lilah’s face and the look in Fred’s eyes tell him what’s wrong. He’d wished that the two of them would be able to make peace with each other, to accept things, but Lilah seems too close to smothering Fred with a pillow to make that possible. This can’t go on. Someone is going to get hurt, body and soul. He has to be the one to stop it.
He just really doesn’t know which one to keep.
Fred/Roger Wyndam-Pryce
It’s obvious that Winifred Burkle is the object of Wesley’s desire. The way his son longingly stares and boyishly smiles tells the whole story.
The girl doesn’t know that Roger’s watching, watching over his son’s beloved, but he is. He watches with all his skill and stealth, with caution and care, with details and deliberation. And when he’s seen enough, he pounces on her with consummate skill.
Afterwards, it doesn’t matter what she says. The pain’s etched into Wesley’s eyes and the lines around his mouth become a little more creased, which is exactly what Roger wanted.
It pleases Roger to see his son so dejected and broken; ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ is a favorite philosophy of his. It should teach Wesley a lesson that should’ve been learned years ago. Puppy love and sickening romance as such is to be avoided. It taints the heart and clouds the eyes. Maybe if Wesley had learned this earlier, things would have turned out better…
Roger’s really doing it for Wesley’s own good; to make him into a man and toughen him up.
It just never seems to help.
Gavin/Lilah
When he first transferred to Special Projects, Gavin walked around with a shit-eating smirk on his face. And why not? He was a successful young attorney rising to the top. Supervisors liked him (they hadn’t killed him yet), women fawned over him (he’d bedded all the secretaries) and he was convinced that his partner Lilah was a pushover and would be in his bed by the end of the week.
After a few days, he’d changed all of his opinions, especially the ones about Lilah. Hell would freeze over before Lilah looked at him with a real smile or compliment him on a job well done. Forget anything else.
He could dream, though. Dream about the day that Lilah would walk into his office, push him onto his desk and have her way with him. Or the day she sat in his lap and cooed in his ear about how brilliant he was.
In the real world, however, Lilah had kneed him in the groin twice and embarrassed him countless times. He was powerless, almost effeminate and weak, until one day, Billy Blim arrived at Wolfram and Hart…
Gunn/Gwen
Gunn’s a risk taker.
Despite the obvious dangers, he actually likes taking risks. It brings color into a gray world and makes life interesting.
It’s why he finds himself on the streets, staking vamps and saving folks. It’s why he takes dangerous deadly missions and hopes he succeeds. It’s why he ends up temporarily dead on a cold sewer floor, Fred shrieking over his body and Gwen ripping his shirt open and restarting his heart.
It’s why he’s standing beside Gwen’s bed, hands reaching for her soft flesh while his brain flashes warnings and stop signs. She can involuntarily shock him into death again, or they can spend the evening doing things she’s never been able to do before. The choice is his. The dangers are his.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Gunn/Lilah
Charles Gunn and Lilah Morgan, two of the most successful and prominent lawyers of Wolfram & Hart, ended up in a crummy Hell just like everyone else.
“Just proves that the Powers don’t think we’re special enough,” slurs Gunn, holding up his dirty glass and peering at the remaining drops on the bottom. Lilah motions to the bartender to refill the glass, but he shows her an empty bottle.
Gunn laughs, his voice hoarse from the smoke around them. “This bar really sucks.”
“We’re in Hell, which means if you want something they’ll be out of it. I can never got shopping properly,” says Lilah, propping her elbows on the table and tilting her head.
“But it’s all worth it,” continues Gunn, “We saved the world!” He grabs Lilah’s head and pulls her forward to kiss her roughly. She shoves him away and gives him a good smack on the arm. “Stop it, Gunn.”
“A toast,” says Gunn, lifting his empty glass. “To saving the world. Might have lost everything that we had, but we did it. Even you, who contributed just a little at some point, lost everything.”
“It’s like helping out cursed us,” mutters Lilah.
“Didn’t even help that much. We save the world, and then a few months later the next big bad comes and destroys all our hard work. And now I’m stuck in Hell with a woman who thinks she’s the hottest thing after the Devil.”
“Like I get no sympathy? I have to be with you. All you do is moan and complain. You’re always late with your paperwork, and you’re no good in bed,” says Lilah. She holds up her glass. “I’ll toast to that.”
Gunn puts his glass up as well, then drops it and watches the shards fly.
“Wasn’t worth it.”
Gunn/Lilah/Wesley
“Man, what’s happened to you -”
“I had my throat cut and all my friends abandoned me,” rasps Wesley, his blue eyes cold as he holds a stake to Gunn’s throat.
These words affect Gunn deeply. After everything gets a bit calmer (relatively speaking), he has a chance to think about them.
True, Wesley had stolen Connor and done a horrible thing, but he’d had a real (if somewhat misguided) reason. A good reason.
But they’d had none. All of Wesley’s so called friends had had no reason. They’d just tossed him out on his butt and never let him explain. They hadn’t been fair. Whatever Wesley does right now, whatever, wherever, whomever… it was their faults - Gunn’s fault.
And to make it even more tangled, apparently Wesley was sleeping around with evil lawyers. Angel had given Wesley a few chances to make up, but Wesley seemed to prefer ostracization and the comfort of Lilah’s arms. Gunn doesn’t understand why he would do that…
So here he is, knocking on Wesley’s door, determined to do *something*, whether just talking or literally knocking some sense into Wesley’s head.
After the fourth knock, the door opens. Wesley, unshaven and casually dressed in only a pair of pants, leans against the door and stares at him.
“Why, Charles, I didn’t think you knew where I lived anymore,” drawls Wesley.
“Do you have a guest, Wes?” Lilah walks into Gunn’s vision, hair messy and a sheet loosely wrapped around her sweaty body. “Party crasher, aren’t you?”
“Why are you here?” says Wesley, shoving Lilah away from the door.
“Actually, I just wanted to… talk,” says Gunn, gritting his teeth and trying to avoid Lilah’s wide smirk.
“Talk,” says Wesley. “Really, isn’t it a bit late for that?” But even as he says those words, he moves away from the door, beckoning Gunn to come in.
“Really too late,” Lilah adds.
“Shut up, Lilah,” Gunn and Wesley say at the same time.
“Look Wesley, why don’t you come back to us instead of dealing with this bitch?”
“Is that all you’ve come to lecture me about? To find out why I’m sleeping with her?”
Lilah looks positively gleeful.
“No, I - ”
“Would you like to find out? I’m sure Lilah would have no problem demonstrating.”
She doesn't have a problem. Gunn spends the rest of the night flat on his back being attacked by a vicious yet incredibly sexy woman, with Wesley watching from the sidelines and grimly smiling.
Gunn doesn't wonder anymore why Wesley doesn't come back to them. He wouldn't have come back either.
Gwen/Lilah
“And my money?” drawled Gwen as she cradled a small elegantly carved box to her amply chest.
“Ten million,” said Lilah, holding out the check with a fakely sincere smile.
Electricity danced in Gwen’s eyes as she considered this.
“And here I was under the impression that the little beauty was worth fifteen million…”
Lilah chuckled indulgently. “Actually, our appraisers -”
Gwen leaned in, close enough for Lilah to feel the electricity radiating off of Gwen, who slowly began to peel off one long glove. She delicately extended a finger to caress Lilah’s perfectly coiffed hair and let out a spark. Lilah’s hair immediately stood upon end.
“Ah, static does horrible things to hair,” said Gwen, smirking at Lilah’s barely disguised flinch. She leaned in closer and breathed into Lilah’s ear.
“I don’t think you want me to try anything. I know some people find electricity rather kinky, but -”
“Fifteen million.”
“Ah, Lilah, I knew you lawyers were reasonable people.”
Harmony/Lilah
Harmony brushed a small piece of lint off of her shirt and smoothed her hair down. She wanted to look her very best in order to wow the new boss with her gorgeous body. If Bossie took a long good look down her shirt, Harmony wouldn’t mind. And if Bossie pushed her onto a desk and ripped her shirt open… Harmony really wouldn’t mind that either.
She scooped up a cup of coffee and walked into her boss’s office, depositing the cup on the desk.
“Miss Morgan,” she cooed. “Anything else?”
Miss Morgan picked up her coffee and vaguely smiled.
“This is good coffee actually, Harmony,” she said as she took a long sip. “Do you have any plans after work -”
Oh my god. Miss Morgan was asking her for a date!
“Um, no actually.”
“Because I have -” continued Lilah.
“I know this really great place we could go!” squealed Harmony.
“- some papers I need typed up by tomorrow morning,” finished Miss Morgan., looking at Harmony with a confused look.
Well, Miss Morgan wasn’t confused for long, which was why Harmony found herself running down the street for her (undead) life, Miss Morgan’s minions chasing after her with a big stake.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” she wailed as she ran, worrying that her new heels would snap. “I’ll never hit on a boss again. Promise!”
Illyria/Virginia
“You were his sexual partner once,” Illyria says, cocking her head to the side in a curious way.
“We call it ‘lover,’” says Virginia simply, tears clouding her vision. She’d just heard about Wesley’s death an hour before. This was the exact reason she’d broken up with him - ceased to be his lover - because she was afraid this would happen…
“I remember when Fred was his ‘lover.’ She would have grieved for him like you do.”
Virginia blinks. “You’re not grieving?”
“Grief is a weakness. I do not grieve. But… I admit I feel… emotions.”
Virginia doesn’t know what to say. Should she try to comfort this blue stranger, or just leave her in quiet remembrances?
“I had wished to experiment sexually with Wesley. But now that he is gone, you would suffice. You have been with him, you know how he would have performed.
“I believe it is a human ritual to have relations upon the death of a loved one? As a remembrance.”
Under normal circumstances, Virginia would have slapped Illyria’s face and walked away. However, these are not normal circumstances and Illyria was a god. Why not make out with the freaky god? What else is there left to do? The world has already gone to Hell.
“Um, maybe.”
“I thought so,” says Illyria.
Justine/Lilah
The last thing Justine can remember is passing out, her aching hand still handcuffed to the fence, still mentally cursing Wesley Wyndam-Pryce for leaving her there as a easy victim for anyone to take advantage of.
But now as she awakens, she realizes that she’s not cold anymore and that she can’t hear the sound of the sea. She opens her eyes and finds herself lying on a really nice couch with a pretty woman sitting next to her.
“Finally awake,” says the woman. “About time.”
“Who are you?” Justine coldly asks, trying to place the voice. The woman shrugs.
“Someone just trying to help,” she says casually.
The voice clicks in place. “You’re the loud one,” sneers Justine.
“And you’re the one who gave him that pretty scar,” drawls the woman.
“Lilah, isn’t it?”
“You’ve been off the radar for quite a while,” says Lilah. “Where have you been?”
“Around,” says Justine. She’s not giving anyone associated with Wesley any cooperation at all. “How’d you find me?”
Lilah shrugs again and raises an eyebrow.
“Just heard some stuff, around.”
Justine moves to get off of the couch, but stops abruptly when she sees a gun lying on Lilah’s lap. Lilah picks up the gun and waves it casually in the air. Justine gets the point.
“So where have you been?”
“In your boyfriend’s closet,” sneers Justine.
“Not my boyfriend,” retorts Lilah, looking thoughtful. “I thought he was hiding something. How interesting to find out what. For once I’ll have the first gossip at the water cooler.”
“What do you want?”
“Info, of course. I’m against Angel, you’re against Angel… we could help each other.”
Justine shakes her head.
Lilah swiftly changes tactics. “Listening to use through the door, ever get some?” she chuckles evilly. “Must have been horrible. Tied up, gagged, unable to move or do anything…” and then Lilah leans forward and swiftly kisses her, hard and quick and Justine definitely wants more.
It’s a promise of things to come if Justine behaves, and Justine’s been alone too long. Lilah’s blatant manipulation is actually working on her.
“Now tell me everything,” purrs Lilah.
And feeling like a desperate woman, Justine does.
Justine/Wesley
She hears the key clicking in the lock as he opens the door. The light blinds her momentarily and she blinks rapidly, breathing hard through her gag as his hand descends and yanks her up by the collar.
“And how are you today, Justine?” asks Wesley as he throws her onto the bed and straddles her, rough hands violating her flesh. He strokes her cheek in a parody of gentleness and smiles down at her. Not only does Justine smell the sex all over the sheets, she heard every single whimper, moan and scream. That evil bitch visits Wesley every so often and Justine sits in her closet, dreading what will come next.
“This time we’re going to try something different,” he whispers in her ear as he pulls out a knife from behind his back. He runs it lightly against her forearm to demonstrate its’ sharpness. A thin line of blood appears, but Justine doesn’t flinch. Holtz once jammed a knife through the palm of her hand; a little blood doesn’t mean much to her.
The first cut doesn’t satisfy Wesley and he slits her skin again, obviously displeased when she doesn’t cry. He cuts harder and deeper until he simply stabs her in the thigh and hits the wound with his fist. This time she feels the pain, biting through her lip to keep the sounds in. Wesley runs his finger over the incision, then touches her mouth.
“Blood is good,” he murmurs, staring at his fingers. “You can never give enough.” He wipes his hand daintily on the sheet, already stained with Lilah’s sweat and picks up the knife again. She can’t suppress her shudder and Wesley notices. He holds the knife up and lets the bedside lamp gleam off the silver.
“Oh, Justine, we’ve just started.”
Lilah/Lindsey
For the first time, she seems almost human, thinks Lindsey - fearful, gentle, caring… real. Seeing her like this, vulnerable and actually pleasant, is quite a change from Lilah’s usual antics. The massacre in the wine cellar must have affected Lilah a tiny bit; it definitely had affected him.
“You just tell me which files to steal and I'll get them. And then - we can get out of here. End this mess - together. Are you in?" Lilah murmurs, coming closer to him. Lindsey leans forward, feeling Lilah’s breath on his cheek. She wants to work together, as a team. It sounds nice, and Lindsey wouldn’t mind considering it, but…
“But Lilah, I would never steal files from my employer. I'm shocked at the suggestion,” he announces loudly to the microphone she’s hidden in her temptingly exposed bosom.
It’s all just an act.
Lilah/Virginia
“So you’re Wesley’s ex,” says Lilah, looking Virginia Bryce up and down. “Not as geeky as I thought.”
“You’re just not his type at all. What did you need, a love potion? I’ve heard about you,” says Virginia.
“More like a lust potion,” says Lilah, “And anyway, Wesley’s changed.”
“Care tell?”
“Well, he drinks, has a scar on his throat, stopped shaving for long intervals and no more glasses. If he weren’t so cranky the girls would be chasing him. On the more wild side, He’s gotten much better since you two broke up. I could show you some of his best moves,” Lilah said as she casually glanced down Virginia’s shirt.
Virginia involuntarily blushed. “You’re - you’re a bitch.”
“And that’s why they love me, little stuttering girl. Nice top.” And with that, Lilah glided away, leaving Virginia to wonder how much better Wesley had gotten.
Lindsey/Wesley
Interrogation time for the prisoner. Spike has his fun dragging a handcuffed Lindsey into the room, dropping him onto the floor and smacking him across the face. Gunn, Lorne and Wesley stand around and try to look intimidating. Spike threatens to eviscerate Lindsey. As expected, Lindsey will not talk.
Wesley had known that there wouldn’t be any progress with Spike’s methods, but he didn’t mind watching Spike rough Lindsey up a bit.
But after a while, he decides it has been enough and sends everyone out of the room. Lindsey still won’t talk, but Wesley knows how to make him.
“You think you can hide, Lindsey?” He rips open Lindsey’s shirt and gazed upon the lean chest, upon the symbols etched into his bare flesh. Wesley traces one long finger down a swirl and watches Lindsey try not to shudder. He leans down and bites Lindsey’s ear lightly.
“Do you think you can hide anymore?” he asks again.
“No,” says Lindsey through clenched teeth.
Wesley grabs Lindsey’s bound hands and slams them onto the desk.
“Then talk,” Wesley says, his voice steely and hard. “They know where to find you.”
Roger Burkle/Trish Burkle
Trish Burkle paced the kitchen, gripping a dish towels and squeezing it tightly.
“Roger, this is not normal! It’s been two weeks, something’s wrong!”
“Trish, give her a few more days. I’ll bet it gets real busy down there, with all those friends of hers,” said Roger.
“I’ve tried to call her, I’ve left messages, she hasn’t gotten back to me. Let’s go see her, I’m worried. A mother knows when something’s wrong with her child.”
“Give her a few more days, Trish,” said Roger.
But Fred still hadn’t called even a few days later. That brought the count up to three weeks since Trish had heard from her. Without bothering to consult Roger, she packed their bags and reserved a flight to California.
She had an ominous feeling that something horrible had happened to Fred. A mother could tell these things.
“So honey, can you do it for me?” shrilly asks Karen, sipping her martini and re-crossing her legs.
Lilah considers the request. Mrs. Karen Walker isn’t rich enough to become a client of Wolfram and Hart’s, and she sees no reason in taking on a complicated inheritance case with a dead husband, greedy people scrambling for money, tons of loopholes and no considerable profit.
“My gay lawyer backed out,” rambles Karen. “He’s having an,” she mimes quotation marks, “emotional crisis and can’t deal with me. Never was too stable,” she stage whispers to Lilah.
And this woman’s voice is just way too annoying.
“Mrs. Walker-”
“Karen, honey, just Karen.” She laughs and the sound grates against Lilah’s ears.
“Karen, I think your case would be better served with a smaller firm, one that can really personalize the assignment. We’re more of a corporate, non-individual firm, and we can’t offer you the attention you need.”
“Honey, aren’t you that lawyer that won that case last year, with that guy who killed someone?”
“I’ve won a lot of cases for ‘guys’ who killed ‘someone,’” Lilah says, a tinge of annoyance in her voice. Karen throws her head back and cackles.
“Oh honey, you’re so funny. That case, the really big profile one on TV. You were really hot,” whines Karen. “And then, boom, we’re here and you won’t even take my little case?”
Lilah smiles tightly. “I’m sorry, but we can’t really help you.”
Karen seems to think about it for a minute.
“Oh, fine, just one more thing,” says Karen, leaning over the desk so Lilah can see straight down her shirt and shoving her face uncomfortably close.
“Wanna go out?”
Lilah can’t hold back her annoyance anymore. “Are you drunk?” she snaps.
“Not yet, honey, but I’ll have another martini. You’ve got the good stuff here.”
“Out- please,” Lilah tacks on the ‘please’ after a short pause.
“You never answered my question. Are you gay or not?” giggles Karen.
Lilah pulls a gun from her drawer and waves at the door. Karen even in her wacky state of mind takes the hint and walks out the door.
“Does that even have bullets in it?” she sniffs.
Finally, the woman was gone. Lilah leans back into her chair and closes her eyes.
Gavin pokes his head into the office.
“Hate to bother you,” he drawls, “but I overheard your latest client.” He flashes a grin at her. “Are you gay or not?”
Lilah shoots him.
Wesley/Trinity (The Matrix)
According to Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn have seen The Matrix way too much.
“You sit there glued to the TV watching the same scenes over and over again,” she snorts, “then you go practice kung fu and shooting with a gun in each hand! You so need a life!”
Wesley usually ignores Cordelia even though in any other case he’d probably agree. But every time he sees The Matrix, there’s something new to learn, some little message he realizes, a fresh move to practice. There’s also Trinity and to his intense horror he’s realized that he’s attracted to a character in a movie. Oh dear, he really has sunk to the lowest levels of depravity.
It’s not like she’s gorgeous or even that pretty. It’s not even that she kicks butt extremely well. No, it’s that she has a power deep inside, something special that Wesley wishes he could have as well. She’s a pillar of strength in the darkest of times, a rather admirable trait that is immensely attractive to him, the weakest of Angel’s group.
He thinks about her often.
One night, he might have thought about her too much.
Wesley’s casually strolling around his neighborhood, late at night. Unable to sleep yet again, he walks around with a stake in his pocket and hopes to catch a few vampires. Sure enough, after an hour or so, he comes upon a struggling victim in an alley. He rushes in, ready to attack and save the person.
But someone else is already there. He hears a gun go off - once, twice, thrice - but it’s no use. The vampire must be a hardy one that refuses to let go.
Wesley turns the corner and comes the mouth of an alley. He throws himself at the vampire and shoves away his thrashing victim. He slams the stake through the vampire’s chest and watches in satisfaction as it collapses into dust. He does enjoy saving people.
Wesley gets up and brushes himself off, looking around for the victim. A woman stands before him, her slim figure outlined by the moonlight. She’s clad in impossibly tight shiny black leather, and he knows who she is.
Well, this is impossible. Trinity is a character in a movie, yet it seems that she is standing before him. He slowly walks towards her, trying not to break the magic that seems to be controlling this moment.
Trinity starts to walk away, her coat slightly billowing behind her.
“How can this be real?” he whispers.
Trinity halts abruptly and glares at him.
“You’re Trinity. You-” but he can’t finish because Trinity jumps away from him and flees as the footsteps come closer. She runs into a wrecked phone booth a few yards away, and Wesley starts to chase after her - but then she’s gone and the door of the empty phone booth quivers in the wind.
And Wesley stands in the alley and wonders if he’s really seen Trinity or he just really needs a life.
Fred/Lilah/Virginia
Lilah’s always enjoyed being part of exclusive clubs. But she does not like being a member of the “Wesley’s Ex-Girlfriends Club,” which consisted of the rich, dead and twiggy.
She likes it even less when all three members accidentally end up in the same bar together.
Catty comments quickly turn into shrieking arguments, as Fred and Virginia blame Lilah for Wesley’s transformations and Lilah blames them for being the empty headed googly eyed lovers that had hindered Wesley more than helped him.
Virginia started off with some respectable alcoholic beverage, Fred did tequila and Lilah went for the scotch, but at the end the results were all the same and they were all horribly drunk.
Drunk enough that when Lilah sarcastically suggests that they find out who was the best lover, they took her up on it.
Drunk enough that Lilah decided to actually show them.
Drunk enough to prove that she was the best.
Fred/Lilah/Wesley
Fred used to think that threesomes were just perverted and gross. She’d never intended on ending up in this situation: lying in bed naked, limbs intertwined with Wesley… and Lilah. It hadn’t been Fred’s fault; Lilah must have poured something into her drink and the next thing Fred knew was they’d been kissing and Lilah mentioned something about Wesley and they’d ended up here… Fred’s a bit upset, yes. But she’s also interested now. Not just by Wesley, but by Lilah. Lilah’s warm lips and soft skin are a relieving contrast to Wesley’s rough cheeks and harsh kisses.
Fred’s intrigued.
~
Lilah always thought the world would have to end before she would ever lay a finger on Fred. Well, the world better end soon because Lilah’s never had to do such a distasteful thing. Fred’s the type of woman she despises and dreams about quietly slipping her hands around her neck and choking… The crazy things she’ll do for Wesley, to fulfill his deepest fantasies. She hopes he’ll actually realize the sacrifices she’s willing to make.
And maybe he could appreciate her for once?
~
Wesley used to think that having Fred and Lilah at the same time would be the most erotic encounter ever. Now he knows it is. But there’s also an aura of unease hovering over their bodies. The flickering glance on Lilah’s face and the look in Fred’s eyes tell him what’s wrong. He’d wished that the two of them would be able to make peace with each other, to accept things, but Lilah seems too close to smothering Fred with a pillow to make that possible. This can’t go on. Someone is going to get hurt, body and soul. He has to be the one to stop it.
He just really doesn’t know which one to keep.
Fred/Roger Wyndam-Pryce
It’s obvious that Winifred Burkle is the object of Wesley’s desire. The way his son longingly stares and boyishly smiles tells the whole story.
The girl doesn’t know that Roger’s watching, watching over his son’s beloved, but he is. He watches with all his skill and stealth, with caution and care, with details and deliberation. And when he’s seen enough, he pounces on her with consummate skill.
Afterwards, it doesn’t matter what she says. The pain’s etched into Wesley’s eyes and the lines around his mouth become a little more creased, which is exactly what Roger wanted.
It pleases Roger to see his son so dejected and broken; ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ is a favorite philosophy of his. It should teach Wesley a lesson that should’ve been learned years ago. Puppy love and sickening romance as such is to be avoided. It taints the heart and clouds the eyes. Maybe if Wesley had learned this earlier, things would have turned out better…
Roger’s really doing it for Wesley’s own good; to make him into a man and toughen him up.
It just never seems to help.
Gavin/Lilah
When he first transferred to Special Projects, Gavin walked around with a shit-eating smirk on his face. And why not? He was a successful young attorney rising to the top. Supervisors liked him (they hadn’t killed him yet), women fawned over him (he’d bedded all the secretaries) and he was convinced that his partner Lilah was a pushover and would be in his bed by the end of the week.
After a few days, he’d changed all of his opinions, especially the ones about Lilah. Hell would freeze over before Lilah looked at him with a real smile or compliment him on a job well done. Forget anything else.
He could dream, though. Dream about the day that Lilah would walk into his office, push him onto his desk and have her way with him. Or the day she sat in his lap and cooed in his ear about how brilliant he was.
In the real world, however, Lilah had kneed him in the groin twice and embarrassed him countless times. He was powerless, almost effeminate and weak, until one day, Billy Blim arrived at Wolfram and Hart…
Gunn/Gwen
Gunn’s a risk taker.
Despite the obvious dangers, he actually likes taking risks. It brings color into a gray world and makes life interesting.
It’s why he finds himself on the streets, staking vamps and saving folks. It’s why he takes dangerous deadly missions and hopes he succeeds. It’s why he ends up temporarily dead on a cold sewer floor, Fred shrieking over his body and Gwen ripping his shirt open and restarting his heart.
It’s why he’s standing beside Gwen’s bed, hands reaching for her soft flesh while his brain flashes warnings and stop signs. She can involuntarily shock him into death again, or they can spend the evening doing things she’s never been able to do before. The choice is his. The dangers are his.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Gunn/Lilah
Charles Gunn and Lilah Morgan, two of the most successful and prominent lawyers of Wolfram & Hart, ended up in a crummy Hell just like everyone else.
“Just proves that the Powers don’t think we’re special enough,” slurs Gunn, holding up his dirty glass and peering at the remaining drops on the bottom. Lilah motions to the bartender to refill the glass, but he shows her an empty bottle.
Gunn laughs, his voice hoarse from the smoke around them. “This bar really sucks.”
“We’re in Hell, which means if you want something they’ll be out of it. I can never got shopping properly,” says Lilah, propping her elbows on the table and tilting her head.
“But it’s all worth it,” continues Gunn, “We saved the world!” He grabs Lilah’s head and pulls her forward to kiss her roughly. She shoves him away and gives him a good smack on the arm. “Stop it, Gunn.”
“A toast,” says Gunn, lifting his empty glass. “To saving the world. Might have lost everything that we had, but we did it. Even you, who contributed just a little at some point, lost everything.”
“It’s like helping out cursed us,” mutters Lilah.
“Didn’t even help that much. We save the world, and then a few months later the next big bad comes and destroys all our hard work. And now I’m stuck in Hell with a woman who thinks she’s the hottest thing after the Devil.”
“Like I get no sympathy? I have to be with you. All you do is moan and complain. You’re always late with your paperwork, and you’re no good in bed,” says Lilah. She holds up her glass. “I’ll toast to that.”
Gunn puts his glass up as well, then drops it and watches the shards fly.
“Wasn’t worth it.”
Gunn/Lilah/Wesley
“Man, what’s happened to you -”
“I had my throat cut and all my friends abandoned me,” rasps Wesley, his blue eyes cold as he holds a stake to Gunn’s throat.
These words affect Gunn deeply. After everything gets a bit calmer (relatively speaking), he has a chance to think about them.
True, Wesley had stolen Connor and done a horrible thing, but he’d had a real (if somewhat misguided) reason. A good reason.
But they’d had none. All of Wesley’s so called friends had had no reason. They’d just tossed him out on his butt and never let him explain. They hadn’t been fair. Whatever Wesley does right now, whatever, wherever, whomever… it was their faults - Gunn’s fault.
And to make it even more tangled, apparently Wesley was sleeping around with evil lawyers. Angel had given Wesley a few chances to make up, but Wesley seemed to prefer ostracization and the comfort of Lilah’s arms. Gunn doesn’t understand why he would do that…
So here he is, knocking on Wesley’s door, determined to do *something*, whether just talking or literally knocking some sense into Wesley’s head.
After the fourth knock, the door opens. Wesley, unshaven and casually dressed in only a pair of pants, leans against the door and stares at him.
“Why, Charles, I didn’t think you knew where I lived anymore,” drawls Wesley.
“Do you have a guest, Wes?” Lilah walks into Gunn’s vision, hair messy and a sheet loosely wrapped around her sweaty body. “Party crasher, aren’t you?”
“Why are you here?” says Wesley, shoving Lilah away from the door.
“Actually, I just wanted to… talk,” says Gunn, gritting his teeth and trying to avoid Lilah’s wide smirk.
“Talk,” says Wesley. “Really, isn’t it a bit late for that?” But even as he says those words, he moves away from the door, beckoning Gunn to come in.
“Really too late,” Lilah adds.
“Shut up, Lilah,” Gunn and Wesley say at the same time.
“Look Wesley, why don’t you come back to us instead of dealing with this bitch?”
“Is that all you’ve come to lecture me about? To find out why I’m sleeping with her?”
Lilah looks positively gleeful.
“No, I - ”
“Would you like to find out? I’m sure Lilah would have no problem demonstrating.”
She doesn't have a problem. Gunn spends the rest of the night flat on his back being attacked by a vicious yet incredibly sexy woman, with Wesley watching from the sidelines and grimly smiling.
Gunn doesn't wonder anymore why Wesley doesn't come back to them. He wouldn't have come back either.
Gwen/Lilah
“And my money?” drawled Gwen as she cradled a small elegantly carved box to her amply chest.
“Ten million,” said Lilah, holding out the check with a fakely sincere smile.
Electricity danced in Gwen’s eyes as she considered this.
“And here I was under the impression that the little beauty was worth fifteen million…”
Lilah chuckled indulgently. “Actually, our appraisers -”
Gwen leaned in, close enough for Lilah to feel the electricity radiating off of Gwen, who slowly began to peel off one long glove. She delicately extended a finger to caress Lilah’s perfectly coiffed hair and let out a spark. Lilah’s hair immediately stood upon end.
“Ah, static does horrible things to hair,” said Gwen, smirking at Lilah’s barely disguised flinch. She leaned in closer and breathed into Lilah’s ear.
“I don’t think you want me to try anything. I know some people find electricity rather kinky, but -”
“Fifteen million.”
“Ah, Lilah, I knew you lawyers were reasonable people.”
Harmony/Lilah
Harmony brushed a small piece of lint off of her shirt and smoothed her hair down. She wanted to look her very best in order to wow the new boss with her gorgeous body. If Bossie took a long good look down her shirt, Harmony wouldn’t mind. And if Bossie pushed her onto a desk and ripped her shirt open… Harmony really wouldn’t mind that either.
She scooped up a cup of coffee and walked into her boss’s office, depositing the cup on the desk.
“Miss Morgan,” she cooed. “Anything else?”
Miss Morgan picked up her coffee and vaguely smiled.
“This is good coffee actually, Harmony,” she said as she took a long sip. “Do you have any plans after work -”
Oh my god. Miss Morgan was asking her for a date!
“Um, no actually.”
“Because I have -” continued Lilah.
“I know this really great place we could go!” squealed Harmony.
“- some papers I need typed up by tomorrow morning,” finished Miss Morgan., looking at Harmony with a confused look.
Well, Miss Morgan wasn’t confused for long, which was why Harmony found herself running down the street for her (undead) life, Miss Morgan’s minions chasing after her with a big stake.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” she wailed as she ran, worrying that her new heels would snap. “I’ll never hit on a boss again. Promise!”
Illyria/Virginia
“You were his sexual partner once,” Illyria says, cocking her head to the side in a curious way.
“We call it ‘lover,’” says Virginia simply, tears clouding her vision. She’d just heard about Wesley’s death an hour before. This was the exact reason she’d broken up with him - ceased to be his lover - because she was afraid this would happen…
“I remember when Fred was his ‘lover.’ She would have grieved for him like you do.”
Virginia blinks. “You’re not grieving?”
“Grief is a weakness. I do not grieve. But… I admit I feel… emotions.”
Virginia doesn’t know what to say. Should she try to comfort this blue stranger, or just leave her in quiet remembrances?
“I had wished to experiment sexually with Wesley. But now that he is gone, you would suffice. You have been with him, you know how he would have performed.
“I believe it is a human ritual to have relations upon the death of a loved one? As a remembrance.”
Under normal circumstances, Virginia would have slapped Illyria’s face and walked away. However, these are not normal circumstances and Illyria was a god. Why not make out with the freaky god? What else is there left to do? The world has already gone to Hell.
“Um, maybe.”
“I thought so,” says Illyria.
Justine/Lilah
The last thing Justine can remember is passing out, her aching hand still handcuffed to the fence, still mentally cursing Wesley Wyndam-Pryce for leaving her there as a easy victim for anyone to take advantage of.
But now as she awakens, she realizes that she’s not cold anymore and that she can’t hear the sound of the sea. She opens her eyes and finds herself lying on a really nice couch with a pretty woman sitting next to her.
“Finally awake,” says the woman. “About time.”
“Who are you?” Justine coldly asks, trying to place the voice. The woman shrugs.
“Someone just trying to help,” she says casually.
The voice clicks in place. “You’re the loud one,” sneers Justine.
“And you’re the one who gave him that pretty scar,” drawls the woman.
“Lilah, isn’t it?”
“You’ve been off the radar for quite a while,” says Lilah. “Where have you been?”
“Around,” says Justine. She’s not giving anyone associated with Wesley any cooperation at all. “How’d you find me?”
Lilah shrugs again and raises an eyebrow.
“Just heard some stuff, around.”
Justine moves to get off of the couch, but stops abruptly when she sees a gun lying on Lilah’s lap. Lilah picks up the gun and waves it casually in the air. Justine gets the point.
“So where have you been?”
“In your boyfriend’s closet,” sneers Justine.
“Not my boyfriend,” retorts Lilah, looking thoughtful. “I thought he was hiding something. How interesting to find out what. For once I’ll have the first gossip at the water cooler.”
“What do you want?”
“Info, of course. I’m against Angel, you’re against Angel… we could help each other.”
Justine shakes her head.
Lilah swiftly changes tactics. “Listening to use through the door, ever get some?” she chuckles evilly. “Must have been horrible. Tied up, gagged, unable to move or do anything…” and then Lilah leans forward and swiftly kisses her, hard and quick and Justine definitely wants more.
It’s a promise of things to come if Justine behaves, and Justine’s been alone too long. Lilah’s blatant manipulation is actually working on her.
“Now tell me everything,” purrs Lilah.
And feeling like a desperate woman, Justine does.
Justine/Wesley
She hears the key clicking in the lock as he opens the door. The light blinds her momentarily and she blinks rapidly, breathing hard through her gag as his hand descends and yanks her up by the collar.
“And how are you today, Justine?” asks Wesley as he throws her onto the bed and straddles her, rough hands violating her flesh. He strokes her cheek in a parody of gentleness and smiles down at her. Not only does Justine smell the sex all over the sheets, she heard every single whimper, moan and scream. That evil bitch visits Wesley every so often and Justine sits in her closet, dreading what will come next.
“This time we’re going to try something different,” he whispers in her ear as he pulls out a knife from behind his back. He runs it lightly against her forearm to demonstrate its’ sharpness. A thin line of blood appears, but Justine doesn’t flinch. Holtz once jammed a knife through the palm of her hand; a little blood doesn’t mean much to her.
The first cut doesn’t satisfy Wesley and he slits her skin again, obviously displeased when she doesn’t cry. He cuts harder and deeper until he simply stabs her in the thigh and hits the wound with his fist. This time she feels the pain, biting through her lip to keep the sounds in. Wesley runs his finger over the incision, then touches her mouth.
“Blood is good,” he murmurs, staring at his fingers. “You can never give enough.” He wipes his hand daintily on the sheet, already stained with Lilah’s sweat and picks up the knife again. She can’t suppress her shudder and Wesley notices. He holds the knife up and lets the bedside lamp gleam off the silver.
“Oh, Justine, we’ve just started.”
Lilah/Lindsey
For the first time, she seems almost human, thinks Lindsey - fearful, gentle, caring… real. Seeing her like this, vulnerable and actually pleasant, is quite a change from Lilah’s usual antics. The massacre in the wine cellar must have affected Lilah a tiny bit; it definitely had affected him.
“You just tell me which files to steal and I'll get them. And then - we can get out of here. End this mess - together. Are you in?" Lilah murmurs, coming closer to him. Lindsey leans forward, feeling Lilah’s breath on his cheek. She wants to work together, as a team. It sounds nice, and Lindsey wouldn’t mind considering it, but…
“But Lilah, I would never steal files from my employer. I'm shocked at the suggestion,” he announces loudly to the microphone she’s hidden in her temptingly exposed bosom.
It’s all just an act.
Lilah/Virginia
“So you’re Wesley’s ex,” says Lilah, looking Virginia Bryce up and down. “Not as geeky as I thought.”
“You’re just not his type at all. What did you need, a love potion? I’ve heard about you,” says Virginia.
“More like a lust potion,” says Lilah, “And anyway, Wesley’s changed.”
“Care tell?”
“Well, he drinks, has a scar on his throat, stopped shaving for long intervals and no more glasses. If he weren’t so cranky the girls would be chasing him. On the more wild side, He’s gotten much better since you two broke up. I could show you some of his best moves,” Lilah said as she casually glanced down Virginia’s shirt.
Virginia involuntarily blushed. “You’re - you’re a bitch.”
“And that’s why they love me, little stuttering girl. Nice top.” And with that, Lilah glided away, leaving Virginia to wonder how much better Wesley had gotten.
Lindsey/Wesley
Interrogation time for the prisoner. Spike has his fun dragging a handcuffed Lindsey into the room, dropping him onto the floor and smacking him across the face. Gunn, Lorne and Wesley stand around and try to look intimidating. Spike threatens to eviscerate Lindsey. As expected, Lindsey will not talk.
Wesley had known that there wouldn’t be any progress with Spike’s methods, but he didn’t mind watching Spike rough Lindsey up a bit.
But after a while, he decides it has been enough and sends everyone out of the room. Lindsey still won’t talk, but Wesley knows how to make him.
“You think you can hide, Lindsey?” He rips open Lindsey’s shirt and gazed upon the lean chest, upon the symbols etched into his bare flesh. Wesley traces one long finger down a swirl and watches Lindsey try not to shudder. He leans down and bites Lindsey’s ear lightly.
“Do you think you can hide anymore?” he asks again.
“No,” says Lindsey through clenched teeth.
Wesley grabs Lindsey’s bound hands and slams them onto the desk.
“Then talk,” Wesley says, his voice steely and hard. “They know where to find you.”
Roger Burkle/Trish Burkle
Trish Burkle paced the kitchen, gripping a dish towels and squeezing it tightly.
“Roger, this is not normal! It’s been two weeks, something’s wrong!”
“Trish, give her a few more days. I’ll bet it gets real busy down there, with all those friends of hers,” said Roger.
“I’ve tried to call her, I’ve left messages, she hasn’t gotten back to me. Let’s go see her, I’m worried. A mother knows when something’s wrong with her child.”
“Give her a few more days, Trish,” said Roger.
But Fred still hadn’t called even a few days later. That brought the count up to three weeks since Trish had heard from her. Without bothering to consult Roger, she packed their bags and reserved a flight to California.
She had an ominous feeling that something horrible had happened to Fred. A mother could tell these things.
“So honey, can you do it for me?” shrilly asks Karen, sipping her martini and re-crossing her legs.
Lilah considers the request. Mrs. Karen Walker isn’t rich enough to become a client of Wolfram and Hart’s, and she sees no reason in taking on a complicated inheritance case with a dead husband, greedy people scrambling for money, tons of loopholes and no considerable profit.
“My gay lawyer backed out,” rambles Karen. “He’s having an,” she mimes quotation marks, “emotional crisis and can’t deal with me. Never was too stable,” she stage whispers to Lilah.
And this woman’s voice is just way too annoying.
“Mrs. Walker-”
“Karen, honey, just Karen.” She laughs and the sound grates against Lilah’s ears.
“Karen, I think your case would be better served with a smaller firm, one that can really personalize the assignment. We’re more of a corporate, non-individual firm, and we can’t offer you the attention you need.”
“Honey, aren’t you that lawyer that won that case last year, with that guy who killed someone?”
“I’ve won a lot of cases for ‘guys’ who killed ‘someone,’” Lilah says, a tinge of annoyance in her voice. Karen throws her head back and cackles.
“Oh honey, you’re so funny. That case, the really big profile one on TV. You were really hot,” whines Karen. “And then, boom, we’re here and you won’t even take my little case?”
Lilah smiles tightly. “I’m sorry, but we can’t really help you.”
Karen seems to think about it for a minute.
“Oh, fine, just one more thing,” says Karen, leaning over the desk so Lilah can see straight down her shirt and shoving her face uncomfortably close.
“Wanna go out?”
Lilah can’t hold back her annoyance anymore. “Are you drunk?” she snaps.
“Not yet, honey, but I’ll have another martini. You’ve got the good stuff here.”
“Out- please,” Lilah tacks on the ‘please’ after a short pause.
“You never answered my question. Are you gay or not?” giggles Karen.
Lilah pulls a gun from her drawer and waves at the door. Karen even in her wacky state of mind takes the hint and walks out the door.
“Does that even have bullets in it?” she sniffs.
Finally, the woman was gone. Lilah leans back into her chair and closes her eyes.
Gavin pokes his head into the office.
“Hate to bother you,” he drawls, “but I overheard your latest client.” He flashes a grin at her. “Are you gay or not?”
Lilah shoots him.
Wesley/Trinity (The Matrix)
According to Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn have seen The Matrix way too much.
“You sit there glued to the TV watching the same scenes over and over again,” she snorts, “then you go practice kung fu and shooting with a gun in each hand! You so need a life!”
Wesley usually ignores Cordelia even though in any other case he’d probably agree. But every time he sees The Matrix, there’s something new to learn, some little message he realizes, a fresh move to practice. There’s also Trinity and to his intense horror he’s realized that he’s attracted to a character in a movie. Oh dear, he really has sunk to the lowest levels of depravity.
It’s not like she’s gorgeous or even that pretty. It’s not even that she kicks butt extremely well. No, it’s that she has a power deep inside, something special that Wesley wishes he could have as well. She’s a pillar of strength in the darkest of times, a rather admirable trait that is immensely attractive to him, the weakest of Angel’s group.
He thinks about her often.
One night, he might have thought about her too much.
Wesley’s casually strolling around his neighborhood, late at night. Unable to sleep yet again, he walks around with a stake in his pocket and hopes to catch a few vampires. Sure enough, after an hour or so, he comes upon a struggling victim in an alley. He rushes in, ready to attack and save the person.
But someone else is already there. He hears a gun go off - once, twice, thrice - but it’s no use. The vampire must be a hardy one that refuses to let go.
Wesley turns the corner and comes the mouth of an alley. He throws himself at the vampire and shoves away his thrashing victim. He slams the stake through the vampire’s chest and watches in satisfaction as it collapses into dust. He does enjoy saving people.
Wesley gets up and brushes himself off, looking around for the victim. A woman stands before him, her slim figure outlined by the moonlight. She’s clad in impossibly tight shiny black leather, and he knows who she is.
Well, this is impossible. Trinity is a character in a movie, yet it seems that she is standing before him. He slowly walks towards her, trying not to break the magic that seems to be controlling this moment.
Trinity starts to walk away, her coat slightly billowing behind her.
“How can this be real?” he whispers.
Trinity halts abruptly and glares at him.
“You’re Trinity. You-” but he can’t finish because Trinity jumps away from him and flees as the footsteps come closer. She runs into a wrecked phone booth a few yards away, and Wesley starts to chase after her - but then she’s gone and the door of the empty phone booth quivers in the wind.
And Wesley stands in the alley and wonders if he’s really seen Trinity or he just really needs a life.