Title: Watching Over
Author: Brenda Antrim
Email: bren@bantrim.net
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended to either
Author's Note: An Angel story with Love Song elements

Lindsey knew he'd lost when he woke up, then wondered how'd he'd managed to wake up if he'd lost. Because surely he'd be dead? He looked around for Holland. If he was in Hell, or back in the thrall of Wolfram and Hart, Holland would certainly be there. His wandering gaze got stuck on a solid figure sitting in a chair, looking back at him.

Not Holland.

"Angel?" Incredulous, Lindsey struggled to sit up. The blanket tucked in tightly around him pinned him to the cushions and his own weakness betrayed him. Cursing the pounding in his head and his watery muscles, he subsided back against the couch and glared with all his might at Angel.

Angel didn't look too impressed. But then, he never did.

Before Lindsey could ask him what the son of a bitch was doing in Louisiana when he should be back in LA, the snakes struck again. The attack caught him completely unprepared. Lindsey's hands went to his head as he curled up, crying out in agony. Dimly, he was aware of movement around him : Angel's hands on his shoulders, holding his thrashing body against the bulky couch; Cordelia's voice whimpering in counterpoint to his own; Wesley asking questions nobody answered because the only two who could were busy fighting for their mental balance and couldn't understand his words.

Slowly, the biting agony eased off as whatever Wesley was doing wedged a shield between himself and the attackers. It felt different than the spells the mambo had used, but then, it wasn't rebounding to him after helping Billy. It was kind of nice to be the first protected, for a change.

The thought hit him all over again that his brother wouldn't need to be protected if it wasn't for the fact that the bastards were after Lindsey, and he buried his face in the cushion and wished that the world would just go away. It wasn't the first time he'd wished that. Probably wouldn't be the last. And it wouldn't work.

Wishing never did.

Only hard work and determination ever got anything done. Giving himself an internal pep talk liberally laced with cuss words, Lindsey forced himself upright. Dropped his hands to his knees. Pried his eyes open. And found himself leaning shoulder to shoulder with Cordelia, who looked as wiped out as he felt.

"Damn," he whispered. She opened one bloodshot eye and stared wildly back at him.

"You can say that again," Gunn groused. "Thought them damned visions would go away once we saved your sorry butt. Looks like there's more to it than that."

"His sorry ... he isn't quite saved yet," Wesley responded. He looked a little frayed around the edges. Lindsey knew the feeling. Fighting off psychic attacks took a lot out of a man.

"Billy? The vision?" Urgency prodded him. His twin was in trouble and they were all sitting on their asses being useless. He tried to lever himself off the couch and his knees gave before he was upright.

"He's right," Cordelia proclaimed, jumping up with an ease that made Lindsey want to smack her. "It was the other one in the vision. He needs help!"

"Him, too?" Gunn looked skeptical.

"Billy's an innocent in this," Lindsey growled at him. Wesley nodded, turned on his heel and headed for the door. Gunn and Cordelia exchanged looks, shrugged and turned to follow him. At the threshold, Gunn glanced over his shoulder.

"No handy tunnels 'round here. Got another hour or so 'til dark. You gonna stay with the lawyer, or come with us and make like a torch?" He had a wicked grin on his face as he teased Angel. The vampire responded exactly as Lindsey expected.

"While I'd really prefer to spontaneously combust, I guess I'll stay here and beat out of Lindsey exactly what's going on."

"Have fun!" Gunn told him and followed the other two out to take care of the threat to Billy.

Lindsey glared at Angel, who smirked back at him.

"So, what's going on?" Angel asked bluntly. Lindsey gritted his teeth and discarded one excessively verbose and two smart-ass responses before settling on an answer.

"Wolfram and Hart are trying to destroy me. Not just kill, destroy. They've targeted my twin brother, who I haven't had any contact with in years, as bait. He's a total innocent in all this. I can take care of myself," a statement that was becoming more blatantly untrue with each attack, but he still clung to it, "but Billy needs to be protected."

"You don't look like you can protect anybody, much less yourself and your brother." Angel looked him over critically. "You look like something the cat dragged in. And coughed up."

"Thank you for the complimen -- " He choked on the words and his eyes rolled up in his head as his hands clawed at his hair. The goddamned snakes were back, and he hadn't caught his breath from the first one. Too soon!

The convulsions rocked him back against the cushions, and this time Angel couldn't hold him still. Lindsey saw through red-streaked vision as Angel climbed first onto the couch, then on top of him, wrapping his arms and legs around him, trying to keep him from shaking to pieces. While he appreciated the thought, it didn't do a hell of a lot of good against the snakes that were chewing away at his brain.

Then a musical chant wove around him, and one by one the snakes fell away. The same rainbow of protective energy that had sealed entry to the club washed over his eyes, cleaning away the blood, leaving behind peace. For the first time in days, Lindsey completely relaxed as all the pain bled away.

"Oh, god," he sighed into Angel's shoulder. "Thank you, Mama Azula."

"Whose mama?" Angel asked, oblivious to the presence behind him until she answered. Lindsey felt Angel jump.

"That be me, old one."

Faster than Lindsey's eye could follow, though he wouldn't claim the same for Azula, Angel turned, planted himself in front of the couch in a defensive position between Lindsey and any possible threat, and readied himself for attack. Then he stared down at the small black woman in the brightly colored dress who barely reached mid-chest on him, and paused. Lindsey couldn't help grinning. Even Angel's back looked confused. He could imagine what Angel's face looked like.

"The unholy guardin' the unholy guardian. That takes some thinkin' on." Her voice sounded whimsical, but Lindsey heard the steel beneath it.

Holding on to the arm of the couch, he pulled himself around until he could see both Angel and Mama Azula. Addressing the priestess first, he said sincerely, "Thank you."

She nodded at him, spared him a brief glance that was warmer than he expected, and returned her regard to Angel. "You a strange one, ain't you." It wasn't a question.

Angel shrugged one shoulder and gave her his most charming smile, not a fang in sight. "I imagine you've seen stranger." It sounded like a compliment. She cocked her head to one side and looked him up and down.

"No," she told him abruptly. His smile wavered. "Never seen one of the undead with the spirit of the living still in him." Then she glanced over at Lindsey. "Seldom seen one of the living with so little spirit left to him, neither, so you two be makin' a good pair."

"We're not a pair," Lindsey protested automatically at the same time Angel asked, "A pair of what?"

She smiled, the flash of teeth startling in her solemn face. "You two of a kind, children. Only way you gonna make it through this is side by side." The smile disappeared, and her eyes darkened. Lindsey shivered. Angel instinctively edged closer to him, although whether it was to protect him or hide behind him, Lindsey didn't know. "You can't kill the beast by cutting off his hands. You got to go to the heart. Cut it out, or you will never know peace, and the blood of innocents will be on your hands."

Once again showing the worst timing, because Lindsey really wanted to question Azula now that she'd started talking to him, the door to the suite broke open and four Tasker demons rushed in. If he'd had any doubts, seeing the Firm's favorite thugs out for blood would have dismissed them. Angel threw himself into the fray, and bodies started tumbling everywhere. Behind the Taskers was a Muhlaw sorcerer, and Lindsey yelled, "Shit!" as he hastily gathered what little magical strength he had left to counter the attack he knew was coming.

A small, very strong hand on his right wrist stopped him. It burned where the fingers brushed his scar. He looked down at it, then over at Azula's face. She looked sympathetic and revolted. He understood both reactions.

"You help your man," she instructed him. "I take care of the serpent." Then she took her hand off his arm and turned to face the Muhlaw.

Not stopping to think about Angel either being his or needing his help, Lindsey left her to it. She was more than capable. Grabbing a lamp from a nearby end table as a makeshift club, he waded into the fight until he was at Angel's back. Over the sound of demons roaring, furniture and bones breaking, and his own harsh panting, Lindsey heard the reassuringly steady flow of the priestess calling on her Loa for help and protection, offering them the blood of the hostile demons in return.

The thought struck Lindsey as he was ducking out of the way for Angel to stab one of the Taskers with another one's horn that he was glad it wasn't a full-on ritual. He'd hate to have to sit down to the feast afterward. Tasker tasted like crap. Or should, if the blood splashed across his face was any indication.

With two down and two to go, Lindsey took up a discarded hand ax and swung it over his head, distracting one of the remaining Taskers. Avoiding the serrated scales along its back, Lindsey grabbed its torso with both hands and swung it around, using it as a shield between himself and the last one. Angel snarled, game face coming out as he used all his strength to wrench his opponent's armored head completely around on its neck. The dull snap echoed through the room. The last demon turned on him, finally giving Lindsey access to the only vulnerable spot on a Tasker -- the small of the back where the heart beat. One hack with all his weight behind it and the Tasker fell with a spray of purple blood at Angel's feet.

Both turned to face the Muhlaw sorcerer, caught in a web of his own spells turned against him by the Vodoun holy woman. Angel kicked out and the sorcerer's jaw shattered. Before he could follow up, a vortex formed around him. Lindsey lunged sideways and caught Angel, pulling him back from the swirl of magic. They landed in a heap together on the floor, barely out of range as the Muhlaw was literally sucked away, back to the dimension where he belonged. If the lack of light in his eyes was any indication it wouldn't do him any good. He'd been dead before his return journey began.

"Get off me," Angel grumbled. Lindsey tore his eyes from the door and glanced around the trashed hotel room looking for Mama Azula. She was nowhere in sight. He didn't move. He was perfectly comfortable right where he was lying.

Inhumanly strong hands lifted him straight up in the air, and Lindsey finally glanced down at Angel. "You like lifting weights?" Angel sneered at him.

"You don't weigh anything. You're a feather. What, Wolfram and Hart freeze your bank account so you've been starving?"

Lindsey shrugged carelessly, not an easy thing to do half-draped and half-suspended over another person, but he managed. "Not hungry much lately."

"Too busy spreading your misfortune around to bother with eating?" Angel asked him with another irritating smirk. Lindsey didn't see any humor in the truth.

The truth could well get his brother killed.

Fighting Angel's hold, Lindsey growled, "Get the fuck away from me! Let me go!"

The look on Angel's face was priceless. "What?" he asked uncertainly. He didn't let go, however. Lindsey could feel the bruises coming up already from where Angel's fingers were clamped around his arms.

"Not that you give a shit, but I've been doing everything I can to make damned sure my brother doesn't pay for my sins -- again! -- and I'm losing the god-damned battle, hell, the whole fuckin' war -- " To Lindsey's horror, he started to choke up, and he could feel tears coming to his eyes. There was no way in hell he wanted anyone to see him this weak, especially Angel, and he lowered his head, fighting as hard as he could, kicking and wriggling to get away.

"Lindsey." Angel's voice was more gentle than he'd ever heard it. Lindsey couldn't take gentleness. Not now. Not without coming completely undone. He clenched his jaw and struggled harder. "Stop it," Angel told him, still gently. Then his arms moved, drawing him down against Angel's chest. "Stop it now, Lindsey. It's okay. You can stop fighting now."

"Can't," Lindsey muttered. It was muffled against the side of Angel's neck. "Can't ever stop fighting. They'll win then and Billy'll be dead and maybe Camille too and they didn't do anything to deserve this -- "

Long fingers caught him under the chin, raising his face until he was looking at Angel as he babbled, unable to stop himself now that he'd started. Angel stared first at his lips, then at his eyes. Lindsey tried to bite his tongue, tried to stop showering Angel with details the vampire had made clear didn't matter, when Angel leaned forward and licked the trail of a tear from the underside of Lindsey's jaw to the corner of his eye.

Lindsey's voice broke.

Angel didn't pull back, but repeated the action on the other side of his face, cleaning away Lindsey's tears with his tongue. Lindsey realized he was panting when it was all he could hear, and he gulped air, trying to calm himself down. Angel drew back far enough to look in his eyes again, then leaned down and kissed him, just as he was opening his mouth to ask Angel what the devil he thought he was doing.

From the feel of it, Angel knew exactly what he was doing. Lindsey didn't. Angel kissed like he fought, with everything he had, using centuries of skill. His tongue invaded precisely, overcoming any resistance Lindsey might have given before Lindsey could think to give it. His hands followed suit, soothing where they had confined, supporting with restrained strength. Lindsey found himself conquered before he knew he was in danger of invasion.

His shirt had been torn in the fracas with the Tasker demons, and Angel made the most of the tears. Slipping two fingers under Lindsey's collar, he ripped the shirt from neck to hem with one sharp tug. Lindsey grunted with surprise, the sound swallowed by Angel's questing tongue. Then those cool, strong hands were exploring his chest, gliding over muscles, thumb rubbing circles over a nipple, fingers sliding along his ribs, firmly enough to caress and not tickle.

The stray thought struck him that this was inevitable, that he and Angel had been shadow-boxing around this from the moment they'd met, and that it was fitting that they should finally come together on the floor in the midst of carnage from a battle with hostile demons after fighting for their lives. Carpet rubbed against his skin and Lindsey opened eyes he didn't remember closing to look up at Angel.

Three things came to him simultaneously. Angel had turned them over and was now lying over Lindsey, stropping against him like a huge cat. Somewhere along the line Angel'd gotten Lindsey's pants and his own open, and the contrasting heat of Lindsey's erection against the cool firmness of Angel's was quickly driving him insane. And with the kind of luck he'd been having with timing lately, this would be the perfect moment for Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn to traipse in, probably with Billy, Camille and Mama Azula along for the show.

Then Angel took hold of Lindsey's erection and began to move his hand, and every thought Lindsey had imploded into a tiny white light at the center of his brain. He was coming before he was ready, his head falling back and Angel's mouth at his throat. No fangs, and he didn't know whether to be thankful or regretful for that.

Angel held him through the shaking that followed, moving against him, and Lindsey reached down, wrapping his fingers around Angel and squeezing gently. Angel growled, a short, cut-off sound, and Lindsey automatically squeezed harder until he was tugging almost brutally on Angel's erection. If he'd thought about it he might have been appalled. As it was, Angel hissed, "yes!" at him and jerked against him, and it was finished.

Trying to breathe under a couple hundred pounds of literal deadweight, Lindsey stared up at the ceiling and absently licked the spill off his palm. It tasted odd, thin, coppery. Not like his own, or the few men he'd gone down on. He kept licking. When his hand was clean, he dropped it to Angel's shoulder and rubbed the bunched muscles there soothingly. The silence asked for explanation. Since he had none to give for the present, he gave one for the past. Not that Angel asked, or, apparently, cared. But he had to get the words out, for himself if no one else.

"We were sharecropper's kids," he told the ceiling softly. Angel didn't even twitch. "Momma had enough after the baby died, and she took off with Emily and Kathleen. Billy and I were older. We could take care of ourselves."

"How old were you?" Angel's voice was as quiet as his own. It blended with his tale, a continuation, not an interruption.

"Eleven," he answered. Angel shifted, wrapping his arms loosely around Lindsey. "We moved around a lot, wherever there was work. Me and Billy against the world. When Daddy couldn't get work in the fields he'd sing in whatever bar would let him. Time I was sixteen, I knew I had to get out of there. Billy said we should stay. First time we ever really fought." The memory of that single, soul-destroying rift made his eyes sting, fifteen years later.

"Didn't have any money, so I stole some. Broke into the safe at the farm we were working on. Didn't know they had a surveillance camera. Took off that night." He had to swallow before he could go on. Angel's arms tightened a fraction around him. Lindsey's hand rubbed circles on Angel's shoulder.

"Three years later I got into law school. Tried to find Billy to let him know I'd made it. He was serving eight to ten in the state pen for robbery. They had me on tape, but with no me around and him with no alibi, they put him away for it." Lindsey's head fell back against the carpet and he closed his eyes. "That semester I sold what was left of my soul to Wolfram and Hart. I didn't have the balls to go back and get my brother out of jail, so I let him sit there for years while I ... escaped."

"Exchanged one hell for another," Angel suggested. Lindsey took a deep breath.

"By the time I was in solid with the Firm Billy'd been paroled. I tracked down an address for him, sent a draft for the entire amount of money I'd stolen plus twenty per cent to him, no return address. It took him almost a year before he got desperate enough to cash it." The breath came out in a rush. "He knew blood money when he saw it. I had no more contact with him until I came to New Orleans. I ran away and left him holding the bag once. I won't do it again."

"I bet it wasn't the easiest reunion." Angel shifted against him until Lindsey had to meet his eye. Lindsey chuckled, a bitter little sound.

"He knocked me flat on my ass." Lindsey met Angel's wry grin with one of his own. "Then I had to toss him on his in order to get him out of the way of a psychic attack. Since then, he's refused to talk to him. And no," he tapped Angel hard on the shoulder to stop the question he could see forming on Angel's lips, "I don't blame him. I blame myself. I got us into this mess and I'll get us out of it."

Angel leaned forward and kissed him again. When Lindsey caught his breath, he asked as indignantly as he could -- not very, since he was winded -- "What was that for?"

"You got us into this mess but we'll get us out." Angel looked pleased with himself. Lindsey scowled at him.

"Look, just 'cause we fooled around a little -- "

Angel moved against him again, more urgently, catching him by surprise and taking away what little breath he had. "This is more than fooling around a little, Lindsey," Angel informed him. "This is something ..." he trailed off and Lindsey looked a question at him. Angel shrugged the shoulder Lindsey wasn't rubbing. "Well, I don't really know what this is, but it's more than a little, and neither one of us is fooling."

Lindsey opened his mouth to challenge that statement, but no words would come. Angel had a point. Lindsey didn't know what it was, either, but it felt inevitable, which was more than a little unsettling, given their history. Before he could put his misgivings into words, Angel stiffened.

"Oh, boy," he muttered, then kissed Lindsey swiftly. "Get dressed. Company's coming."

They got themselves untangled and scrabbled for their clothing. Lindsey snorted when he saw what was left of his shirt. Holding the rags up for Angel's inspection, he shook his head and grinned. Angel rummaged in his duffel bag.

"Try this." He tossed a tee shirt Lindsey's way and Lindsey shrugged into it.

They were decently covered if a little rumpled by the time the gang tromped in the door. Lindsey, at least, was flushed. Angel looked smug. If he'd been any moreso, Lindsey thought sourly, he'd be purring. Might as well have a flashing neon sign over his head saying 'just got laid.'

Happily, Angel's group had seen that look before in conjunction with mayhem, not sex, so they gave no indication of noticing anything untoward. Lindsey glanced at the small pile of Tasker corpses he'd completely forgotten while rolling around on the floor with Angel.

Well, maybe sex wouldn't be the first thing he'd think of either coming in on that scene. He looked over at Angel.

Then again, maybe it would.

Shaking off his newfound preoccupation, he asked Wesley, "Is Billy okay?"

"For the moment," Wesley answered. He sounded as tired as he looked, which was exhausted. Lindsey shot a look at Gunn, then Cordelia. They looked punchy, and they'd only been at this for a day. There was no way in hell they were going to win this war fighting it on this battlefield.

"This isn't going to work," Angel said, startling Lindsey by echoing his thoughts. Wesley started to look indignant, and Gunn was ready to back him up on it, when Cordelia made a noise like a mouse getting stepped on and reeled sideways. Angel was a blur at Lindsey's side as he moved, and he caught her before she toppled over onto a Tasker demon. Lindsey's hands and lips were moving before Angel even got to her.

Just in time.

He didn't know if it was the great sex or the presence of allies, but the attack was contained fairly quickly. That made him nervous. He looked over at Wesley, who was looking back at him with a concerned expression.

"Billy," they said in unison.

Cordelia refused to be left behind, so Gunn helped her to the car. Night had fallen while they'd been fighting Taskers and getting naked together, so Angel drove. Lindsey gave directions. Gunn and Wesley propped Cordelia up between them in the back seat. She was complaining bitterly, and loudly, about missed shopping opportunities because of stupid snakes, when they pulled up to the building where Billy and Camille lived.

They weren't the first on the scene. At each corner of the building stood a man, candles at his feet. Wesley shivered so hard Lindsey could feel him through the frame of the car.

"The houngan are on our side," Lindsey told him as they climbed out onto the sidewalk and headed up the stairs. "Mama Azula is watching over Billy."

"Whose mama? And what's a hogin?" Gunn asked, unknowingly echoing Angel's earlier question.

"Not mama," Wesley corrected absently, staring at the woman who stood waiting for them at the top of the stairs. "Mama. She's the mambo, the Vodun priestess who assisted us earlier. The houngan are Vodun priests. In this case, they're protecting Billy and his family. Aren't you, madam?" he asked politely.

She gave him another one of her rare, gleaming smiles. "Yeah, wizard, we watchin' over the child and his wife. They be ours, and we look after our own." She shot Lindsey a look, then gave Angel a longer one. The smile grew a little wicked. "Like you do."

Lindsey blushed. Angel looked at his shoes, then over at the wall. Wesley and Cordelia looked clueless. Gunn whistled. Lindsey cleared his throat.

"Is Billy okay?"

Azula looked over at him, losing her smile. "For now, child. But you got to do what you have to do, and make an end to this."

He nodded. "First I have to see my brother. Make sure he'll be all right while I do ... what has to be done."

"Which would be what, precisely?" Wesley cut in. Angel answered.

"Tell you all about it on the way back to LA."

Cordelia started to whine about shopping. Lindsey stepped away from the group and knocked on the door to Billy's loft. Camille answered. She looked slightly appalled at the motley collection of strangers facing her. The look intensified when most of them smiled at her. Lindsey couldn't really blame her. He tried his best to look harmless.

"Let us in, honey," Mama Azula said before he could speak.

Camille leaned her head down for a peck on the cheek then stepped back as first Azula, then Lindsey, then Angel and the rest of the pack flowed in. They filled the room but it was oddly silent. Billy looked up from his perch on a stool, guitar balanced on his knee, his welcoming look hardening as he saw Lindsey.

"We need to talk, Billy," Lindsey said quietly.

"We haven't got anything to say," Billy shot back. Lindsey clenched his hands into fists and stuffed them into his pockets.

"Please."

"Go to hell." Billy wasn't yielding an inch.

"I did," Lindsey answered honestly. "When I left, it followed me." Billy watched him intently. "Now it's after you, and if we're going to keep it away, you're going to have to listen."

Billy set the guitar carefully aside and slowly got up off the stool. Stalking over to stand toe to toe with his twin, he glared at Lindsey. Lindsey let him stare his fill.




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