Banner by deathisyourart

Chapter 9

Lindsey knew he was taking a chance going to Angel’s place, but the ensouled vampire was friendly with the Slayer and her friends in Sunnydale.  And, he needed to pump the vamp for information before he made the trip to the Hellmouth.  To Tara. 

He also needed to tell Angel about his sire. 

He’d barely made it through the front doors when he was confronted by the wanna-be actress slash model, Cordelia Chase. 

“What are you doing here?”   Disdain was evident in her tone, but he’d come across sharper tongues than hers and come out on top.  An image of the outspoken Anya came to mind and the corner of his lips turned upward in the hint of a smile. 

“I came to see Angel.” 

“Not the smartest move you’ve ever made,” said vampire growled at his back. 

“Neat trick,” Lindsey managed to gasp out before he was swung around and shoved up against a wall and held several inches off the ground by a cool hand at his throat. 

“What are you doing here, Lindsey… and where’s Darla?”  

Lindsey knew the vamp wouldn’t kill him – didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be subject to his intimidation tactics.  Sure enough, just before he felt himself suffer the serious side effects the lack of oxygen were causing him, he was lowered to the ground and the hand about his throat loosened a smidgeon. 

“I need help,” he began. 

“You’re not exactly helpless, Lindsey.”  Angel’s tone was derisive. 

“I quit my job.” 

“And, what?  You think that means anything to me?  You’ve played this card before…then went back to Wolfram & Hart when things got rough.” 

“Things are different now… I… met a girl.” 

“A girl?  What about Darla?  I seem to remember you being hot for my sire.” 

“We—” Lindsey broke off and looked around the room, noting the curious faces of both Cordelia and Wesley.  “Look… is there somewhere we can go?  Someplace private?” 

Angel’s eyes narrowed on the lawyer.  Finally, he nodded and gestured towards his office. 

Lindsey turned on his heel and walked off, missing the look the vampire gave his colleagues.   

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Darla’s dead.”   

The vampire surged out of his chair, sending it careening into the wall behind him.  Lindsey stared up at his vamped features, at how Angel was just seconds away from hurtling the desk and killing him without remorse and rushed to add, “We were cursed by a vengeance demon.  Or, as Anya liked to call her… a justice demon.” 

“Anya?  Who the hell is Anya?” he growled. 

“She’s a former vengeance demon that lives in Sunnydale.  Sit down Angel… this may take a while…” 

Angel shrugged off his fangs and ridges and uprighted his chair.  He sat, his eyes boring into the evil lawyer across from him.  An evil lawyer, that Angel suddenly realized, who was— 

“Who is she?  This girl you love?” he asked. 

“Her name is Tara.  Tara McDonalds.  My wife.” 

“Your wife?” 

“As I said… it’s a long story.  It started with a wish… two wishes, in fact.  And a demon named Halfrek.” 

“Halfrek… hmmm… doesn’t ring any bells,” Angel commented. 

“It wouldn’t.  She doesn’t run in your circles.  She caters mainly to wronged women, whereas you used to…” 

“Wrong the women.  What’s this got to do with you?” 

“I’m not sure really.  I mean, I know why Tara and Anya were sent there, but not myself and Darla.  It wasn’t like Darla had been wronged…” 

“Darla was with you?  Where?” 

Lindsey ignored him and held up his hand.  The one that had been cut off by the vampire seated in front of him.  Flexing the fingers that hadn’t disappeared upon his return to the present. 

“It was one of the first things I noticed,” he told the vampire.  “Figured it was the Senior Partners having a bit of fun… giving it back to me.”  He held out his hand towards Angel.  “See… no scars, either.” 

Angel grunted, but Lindsey didn’t notice.  His eyes had taken on a faraway look.  His mind lost in the retelling. 

“She wanted to be far away.  Her soul… she couldn’t deal with it.  I was holding her, trying to comfort her.  She said the words, then poof.  I woke up in Devil’s Paradise… Darla was a prostitute working in a saloon called The Morning Star.  I was the Marshal.”  He laughed; it was a hollow sound.  “Thought it was a sick joke.  A punishment from Holland because I’d let Darla cloud my judgment.” 

Lindsey lifted haunted eyes to the vampire. 

“Lawyer to lawman…” he murmured.  He laughed again.  Again it was hollow. 

He told his story then.  Of how he’d come across Darla.  How she’d rebuffed his attempts to help her.  Meeting Tara.   

He left nothing out.   

Even the fact that he was going to be a father. 

At some point Angel got up and retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the shelf behind his desk, pouring two full glasses of the amber liquid and handing one to Lindsey.   

“I think she did it to prove to herself that she didn’t have to be burdened by her soul,” Lindsey explained the ex-vampiress’ actions in abducting Tara.  “I wasn’t aiming for her, Angel.  I swear I wasn’t.  She just… it was like she ran towards my fire, rather than away.” 

Angel nodded, his shoulders slumping wearily. 

“Tara… she saw to it that Darla was buried properly.”  Lindsey smiled then in memory of his wife’s determination.  He looked up and saw Angel staring at him with something akin to shock. 

“She’s amazing, I know.  Kindest, gentlest person you’ll ever meet… Not sure what she ever saw in me,” he added as an afterthought. 

Angel opened his mouth to offer some comment, but closed it without saying anything.  He poured himself another drink and topped off Lindsey’s and allowed him to continue.  

“She went up to the town’s cemetery once or twice a week… made sure Darla always had fresh flowers.  Didn’t matter that Darla had been behind having her kidnapped.  Tara… like I said… she was special.  I’ve got to find her, Angel.  I know she’s friends with your Slayer.” 

“Buffy?” 

“I never understood why someone so innocent would be working as a saloon girl.  After I carried her out of that cellar… it took awhile.  But, she told me.  She said she’d been upset… that she’d nearly gotten the Slayer and her friends hurt because she’d done some spell to make herself invisible to them.  Her father had convinced her that she was a demon of some sort.  And she’d done this spell so that her friends wouldn’t see that part of her.  Only, it backfired… and the Slayer and her friends were nearly killed before Tara lifted the spell.  Tara ran out, made a wish… and presto… welcome to 1867.” 

He looked at Angel, trying to convey the depth of his emotions.  Praying that the vampire could see that he’d changed.  That she’d helped him change. 

“I love her, Angel.   She’s…she’s pregnant with my baby.  I can’t just leave her there… alone.” 

Angel could see the sincerity in the man’s eyes and sighed.

“Come on.” 

Lindsey scrambled to his feet and followed the vampire out of his office. 

“Cordelia, we’ll be back.” 

“Back?  Where you going?  And with the evil lawyer?” 

“He’s not evil.” 

“Right…”  The sarcasm was evident in her tone. 

“Cordelia…”  Angel sighed, not wanted to get in a discussion – that he’d probably lose even though he was right – with the girl. 

“Fine… but if you come back all ‘Angelus,’ I’m not going to be happy,” she grumbled and flounced off. 

“Nice girl,” Lindsey muttered. 

“You get used to her.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angel had misgivings about being in Sunnydale again.  He’d not been to the Hellmouth since he and Buffy had had their disagreement about her current boyfriend, Riley. 

Now he was back.  And about to meddle in the lives of one of her friends. 

“We’ll swing by Buffy’s place first.  With it being Christmas, I doubt she’ll be at the campus.” 

“Alright…” 

The house on Revello Drive was awash with light when Angel pulled up to the curb.  The Christmas tree gleamed with multi-colored lights; the tree large enough to nearly span the entire window.  

Angel caught a glance of someone walking into the room and frowned.   

What that hell was Spike doing there? 

“Come on,” he told Lindsey and climbed out of his car. 

Once on the front step, he rang the doorbell.  It opened almost immediately to reveal the Slayer.  A surprised one at that. 

“Angel!” 

“Hey, Buffy.  Merry Christmas,” he told her solemnly.  “You mind if we come in for a bit.  We need to talk to you about something.” 

Buffy’s gaze flitted between the two males before finally nodding and letting them come inside.  She shut the door and turned around to see her mother walking out of the kitchen and down the short hallway. 

“Mrs. Summers,” Angel greeted, somewhat warily.  

“Angel.”  A stiff nod.  “Who’s your friend?” 

“This is Lindsey.  We won’t stay long… I… I just need to talk with Buffy for a minute.  Sorry to intrude.” 

Joyce waved aside his concern and gestured towards the living room. 

Lindsey was the closest and turned to walk into the room.  He gasped suddenly at seeing Tara sitting in a far corner, smiling softly at something a blond male was saying. 

“Tara?” he called out softly. 

She looked up, and a smile transformed her features. 

“Lindsey!” she cried. 

The occupants of the room watched in astonishment as the two raced towards each other. 

They stopped, mere inches apart and drank in the sight of each other.  Lindsey lifted his hand and caressed his wife’s cheek, his eyes unnaturally bright at having found her. 

“Tara,” he murmured, then lowered his head and kissed her. 

His arms encircled her back and pulled her up against his chest, continuing to ravish Tara’s lips much to the shock of the others.  Particularly the redhead that walked into the room bearing two drinks in her hands. 

“Tara?” she whispered. 

Tara froze upon hearing Willow’s confused voice penetrate the haze of happiness that had settled around her at having been reunited with her husband.  Reluctantly, she pulled back and looked over Lindsey’s shoulder to see the girl’s stricken face. 

“Willow… I…” 

The redhead tore out of the house before Tara could stop her, the cups in her hands falling onto the floor. 

The misery in her eyes was apparent as Tara looked up at Lindsey. 

“’s alright, Glinda… I’ll go after the girl,” Spike told her.  “See that she gets home safe.”  Besides, with his grandsire and the Slayer making lovesick faces at each other, he figured it was better to make himself scarce – the sight was too nauseating by half. 

Spike’s departure galvanized the others into action.  They slipped silently from the room and went to congregate in the kitchen.   

Leaving Lindsey and Tara alone in the living room. 

Tara drew him down on the couch beside her. 

“H-How did you find me?” 

Lindsey smiled. 

“You told me where you were from.  Just so happens that ours is a small world.”  At her confused look he explained.  “You’re friends with the Slayer.  I knew somebody that once dated the girl.  It was a simple matter of contacting him… I always knew I could find you… the biggest thing was… did you want me to?” 

“Oh, Lindsey!  Of course I did!” 

She threw her arms around his neck and hung on for dear life.  His arms circled around her back and she felt so safe… so loved.  Suddenly she remembered something and pulled away.  Her hand delved into her pocket and pulled out a ticket.  She handed it to him. 

“What’s this?” 

“A bus ticket.  I was going to LA tomorrow… to find you,” she told him. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.  I love you, Lindsey.  There’s no place I’d rather be than by your side.”  Her head dipped, remembering the shock on Willow’s face.  “I was going to tell her… just before you got here.  That I met someone else.” 

“I’m sorry…” 

“I am too.  I didn’t want to hurt Willow.  Especially after she chose me.  But—” 

“You fell in love with someone else.” 

“Yes.  And you need me… much more than she does.  And I need you too…I love you.” 

Lindsey nodded and drew her close, nestling her against his side. 

“Merry Christmas, Tara,” he whispered quietly. 

“Merry Christmas, Lindsey.” 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“We should probably go,” Angel mumbled.  “I’m sorry… I didn’t expect Tara to be here.  I only came here first because I knew she was Buffy’s friend.” 

Buffy nodded, lifting wounded eyes to gaze at her ex.   

First her, and now Willow.  Not to mention a hellgod that seemed bent on finding her “key” and a mother dealing with her recovery from brain surgery.  Her life really didn’t need any more complications than it already had. 

“I’ll stay at the mansion… leave for LA tomorrow night,” Angel told her as they walked towards the front door. 

“Alright.” 

“Look, Buffy… I’m sor—” 

“Don’t.  It’s okay, Angel.  It’s not your fault.” 

“But still…It’s Christmas, and now I’ve ruined it…” 

“It’ll be fine.  A cup of mom’s hot chocolate, and things will get back to normal.” 

The two shared a wistful smile. 

“Well… as much as can be expected on the Hellmouth anyway,” she clarified. 

Angel nodded.  He reached out to give her a hug, but at the last second… stopped.  Out of the corner of his eye he caught Lindsey and Tara standing and coming towards him. 

“Time to go, Lindsey,” he told the man. 

There was an awkward moment when Tara’s eyes met Buffy’s.  The sorrow both held. 

“I’ll talk to Willow,” Tara told the Slayer.  “Explain what happened…” 

“Okay.” 

Tara turned and walked to the door.  Buffy’s voice halted her quiet retreat outside. 

“Tara… wait!  Don’t go.  All of you… stay.  It’s Christmas.” 

“Buffy?  Are you sure…” Angel asked. 

“Yes.  Christmas is about friends and family.  I’d like to think we’ve reached that point, Angel.  So… stay… all of you.” 

“Buffy…” Tara began. 

“You especially, Tara.  I’m sensing a story here, if you’re willing to share.”  Buffy turned to the male glued to her side.  “I’m Buffy, by the way.  Buffy Summers.” 

“I know who you are, Buffy.  Well… sorta.  My name’s Lindsey.  Lindsey McDonalds.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.  Why don’t you come into the kitchen?  It smells like mom’s making hot chocolate.  Very yummy.  Even Spike can’t turn it down.” 

Angel grumbled at the mention of his erstwhile grandchilde, but followed along docilely enough.  Joyce greeted them with a mug of hot chocolate, and when Angel took a sip, he had to agree that Spike had a point. 

The hot chocolate was delicious. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“You alright, Red?” Spike asked once he’d reached the girl’s side. 

“Go away…” 

“Can’t.  Told the Slayer I’d look after you until you got home.  Can’t let the nasties get to her friend.” 

“What do you care?  You’re just a demon.  You don’t have any feelings,” Willow cried.  “Wasn’t you that just got dumped by your girlfriend… and on Christmas no less.” 

Spike bit the inside of his cheek to keep from flaying the girl alive with his tongue.  His anger at her insensitive words wouldn’t help matters. 

“She loves him.”

“So!  She’s supposed to love me.” 

“Glinda’s been gone nearly two months… Has she even told you what happened?” 

Willow stopped, her mind replaying the events of earlier.  How Tara had not wanted to go to Buffy’s and that she’d wanted to talk.  She had brushed her girlfriend’s protests aside and practically dragged her to Buffy’s house. 

“She… she wanted to,” the redhead finally admitted.  “I just didn’t want to hear… I knew something wasn’t right.  That things had changed between us.  I didn’t want to—” 

She started crying then, and Spike reluctantly drew her into a comforting hug.  The things he did in his love of the Slayer. 

“I’m sorry, Red.  But, Glinda… she wouldn’t hurt you on purpose.” 

Willow shuddered in his embrace. 

“Doesn’t make it hurt any less,” she whimpered. 

“Nothing does, luv.  Except maybe a little time.” 

When she got her emotions under control, Willow pulled away and made to continue home. 

“Don’t you want to go back?  Joyce was just getting ready to make hot chocolate….” 

“No.  I don’t want to be the cloud that rains on everyone’s parade.” 

“They’re your friends, Red.  It’s Christmas.” 

“All the more reason for me to go home and mope in private.” 

“What about the Whelp?  You think he’s not hurting too?  But he’s still there.” 

“Xander?” 

“Didn’t see the demon bird at the Slayer’s house.  And, you have to admit, he wasn’t as forthcoming with the insults to me as he usually is.” 

“Oh my god, you’re right!  I was so busy focusing on Tara, that I barely paid any attention… What kind of friend am I?” 

Spike quirked his brow but didn’t comment. 

“We’ve got to go back…” 

Willow started walking back towards Buffy’s house and Spike fell into step beside her. 

“Always knew you were a smart girl.” 

“I forget sometimes… Maybe it has something to do with living on a Hellmouth,” she joked. 

They reached the front door and Willow grabbed Spike’s hand before he could ring the bell. 

“Thanks, Spike… for coming after me.  For bringing me back.  I know you didn’t have to.” 

“Didn’t want to upset the Slayer’s shindig… she’s been planning it for a while, after all.” 

Willow took note of his embarrassment, and grinned. 

“It’s good she has you around… looking out for her.” 

“Yeah…well…” He shuffled his feet and looked away.  “Bloody hell, Red, ring the bell already,” he snarked. 

Willow rolled her eyes at the vampire’s blustering, but did like he asked. 

The sound of running steps could be heard, then the front door was flung wide. 

“Willow!  You came back!” Buffy cried, hugging her friend tightly, much to the amusement of Spike. 

“Spike talked me into it,” Willow confessed, once the Slayer had let up on her death grip. 

“Hmmm… I guess that good deed warrants some of mom’s hot chocolate then…” 

“With the li’l marshmallows?” he asked hopefully. 

“I’m sure she’s got some stashed away somewhere,” Buffy laughed. 

next

REVIEW