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

"I've taken enough because of you," Billy finally said. His voice sounded like his throat was full of gravel. "I don't have to do a damned thing you say, and I sure as hell don't have to listen to any more of your lies."

"For Camille's sake if not your own, you do." This time, Lindsey was prepared for Billy to swing at him. He closed his eyes, relaxed his muscles, and let his brother hit him. Angel caught him before he could hit the wall. He was growling, a soft sub-vocalization Lindsey could only hear because his ear was against Angel's chest. "S'okay," he whispered through an aching jaw. "I owed him that."

Shaking off the residual dizziness from Billy's wallop, Lindsey stepped away from Angel's supporting hands and back over to his brother. Billy looked like he wanted to hit him again. This time when he swung, Lindsey caught the fist and held it. "No. We can't afford to fight one another. I'm leaving."

Billy froze. "Not soon enough," he spat.

"As soon as I know you're safe."

"Billy, listen to him," Camille broke in. She was standing next to Mama Azula, rubbing her arms as if she was cold. Lindsey had the feeling the priestess had been telling her some home truths. "We need his help."

"I don't need anything from this motherf -- " Billy broke off, grinding his teeth in a manner Lindsey instantly recognized. A moment later he continued in a calmer voice, "We can't believe a word he says."

"You can believe me," Camille told him, walking over to stand beside him and take his hand. "And I believe Mama." Billy looked past her at Azula, who stared right back at him. Then he looked back at Lindsey.

"What, then." He glared at Lindsey, but at least he was listening. Lindsey took a deep breath.

"You're under attack. You can't see it because Mama Azula and I, and now these others," he gestured at Angel's group, "have been protecting you. But I've got to go back to LA -- "

"Good!" Billy interjected. Lindsey felt his own jaw start to tense and deliberately relaxed it. Punching Billy in the nose wouldn't do anything but get everybody riled up again. No matter how good it might feel at the time. Pig-headed little bastard. Pulling himself back to his explanation, Lindsey continued.

" -- in order to deal with the cause of the attack. Until it's removed, you'll be at risk. We need to make sure you're safe while we go to the source."

Billy opened his mouth but Camille beat him to speech. "How are you going to do that?"

Mama Azula came over from the sidelines, stopping at Lindsey's side. She raised a hand and beckoned Wesley over. "We'll take care of it, child. You just need to sit quiet and let us get on with what we got to do."

As smoothly as if it had been rehearsed, Angel and Cordelia moved furniture out of the way. Gunn took up a protective position at the door. Once the furniture was moved, Cordelia sat down in the corner and Angel went to join Gunn. Wesley urged Billy and Camille to sit in the center of the room. Mama Azula took a small pouch from her belt and began to weave a pattern in cornmeal, a veve, on the floor around them, singing softly, calling to Ayza as she did so. Wesley moved until he was directly opposite Lindsey on the other side of the couple in the middle of the room.

When the veve was finished, Azula stepped away until she made the third point on a triangle with Lindsey and Wesley's positions. She raised her hands and began to sing in Yoruba. Lindsey then raised his own hands and began to chant one of the oldest, strongest spells he'd ever learned, in Aramaic. At the same time Wesley's hands raised and he began to chant in Latin. The three disparate spells wove together seamlessly, propelled by a common need to protect.

Lindsey let the words flow through him, gathering and concentrating power as they went. His gaze settled on Billy, who was staring back at him, wide-eyed, years of anger and pain being overborne, for the moment, by the sheer strangeness of what was happening. The air between them began to shimmer as a veil of power expanded around Billy and Camille.

Colors played in the air, the orange red of fire, the verdure hue of earth, the azure hint of air, the deep royal blue of the ocean. They wove together, stitched with pure white light, until they formed a sphere around the couple. Then, on a single breath, Azula's song, Wesley and Lindsey's chants ended, and the colors disappeared with an audible snap. The air was clearer than it had been before the ritual, a crystal clarity that echoed in the silence following the song.

After an eternity of stillness, Billy shook his head. "What was that?" he asked weakly, one hand going to his ear as if that final tone still rang through it.

"A shield," Wesley answered. Billy glanced over at him, then back to Lindsey. His eyes demanded answers Lindsey didn't have time to give.

"I'm sorry, Billy," he offered. It was all he had. "I'll fix it."

Billy looked skeptical. Lindsey didn't blame him. When nothing more was forthcoming, Lindsey stepped back from the circle and turned to go. He'd drawn even with Gunn and Angel when Billy's voice stopped him.

"Lindsey."

He looked over his shoulder. Billy was glaring at him, as usual, but the hatred was missing for a change.

"Watch your ass."

Lindsey nodded, then turned back and headed out the door. By the time he made it down the stairs to street level, the houngan were gone, the candles cold. It was an encouraging sign. When attack came again, as he knew it would, there were three levels of protection gathered around his brother. It would hold for long enough for Lindsey to get the job done. A presence loomed over his shoulder.

Well, Lindsey, and Angel.

Footsteps clattered down the stairs.

Okay, Lindsey, Angel, and assorted friends. Lindsey grinned to himself. Wolfram and Hart didn't know what was about to hit them. He'd take advantage of that while he could. He stared at the convertible.

"We don't have time for this," he told Angel. "It's over nineteen hundred miles back to LA. They'll have too much time to prepare."

Angel looked at him. Looked at Wesley. Then over to Cordelia, to Gunn, and back to Wesley. Wes opened his mouth. Shut it again. Sighed.

"What do you suggest?" he asked Lindsey.

"Cordelia and Gunn drive the car back. You, Angel and I fly back. Hit the Firm as soon as we get back."

"That easy?" Angel sounded skeptical.

"I've got a plan," Lindsey assured him.

"Uh-oh," Wesley muttered. Angel smothered a grin and Lindsey glared equally at both of them.

"Do we have to drive back right away?" Everyone looked at Cordelia. She smiled brightly. "I mean, if we're not going to be there in time to help anyway, then why not spend a day in New Orleans before we go back?" The smile became fixed and she got a mulish look in her eye. "I haven't been in a single shop since we got here. And somebody's got to take care of the mess back at the hotel." She shuddered when she said it, but she had a point.

Lindsey nodded. He also caught the glance that shot between Wesley, Angel and Gunn. Keep her out of it. He could read it in their faces.

"Deal."

Gunn was still grumbling under his breath about getting stuck with clean-up duty when he and Cordelia dropped them off at the airport. He didn't dare mention baby-sitting duty. Cordy'd hurt him if he did.

The flight back to LAX went by quickly. Lindsey's battle plan was simple. Sneak in, force Lilah to help them get into the Firm, and take out Nathan Reed. If they needed to go further up the chain of command, they'd take it as far as they had to go. It was sketchy, but it was the best he could come up with, and time was against them.

By the time they landed and rented a car to get them around until Gunn brought Cordelia home, it was almost sunrise. Lindsey was weaving and Wesley was nearly asleep on his feet. Angel hustled them both into the lobby of the hotel and leaned against the counter.

"If we try to go after them in this condition we'll be slaughtered before we get in the door."

Lindsey stared at him. After talking most of the flight home, making and discarding plans, his tongue felt like lead. Thankfully, Wesley asked the question so Lindsey didn't have to.

"What do you suggest?" Even Wesley was slurring. It had been a long night. And a long day before that.

"Rest today," Angel ordered, "then hit 'em tonight when the foot traffic slows down. What time, Lindsey?"

"'bout ten," he answered automatically. Angel nodded.

"Okay. Wes, there are plenty of rooms, pick one and get some rest. Lindsey, come with me."

Lindsey made a point of not looking at Wesley as he climbed the stairs in Angel's wake. There was no need. He could feel Wesley staring at him all the way up. Putting off that explanation for another day, hopefully one when he'd actually have an explanation to give, Lindsey followed Angel into his room.

He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, but the businesslike way Angel stripped down wasn't it. He stood in the middle of the room and watched as jet black silk and leather gave way to perfect creamy skin, then swallowed, trying to get some moisture back in his mouth. Angel was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, dead or alive. Preservation was a wonderful thing. Once fully naked, Angel finally looked over at him.

Grinned.

Inclined his head toward the bathroom.

"I'm taking a shower. You're welcome to join me." He walked out of the bedroom and Lindsey heard the water start. "Works better if you lose the clothes first," floated out to him.

He was stripped and standing with his hand stretched out toward the shower curtain before he gave himself time to think about it. Reality caught up with him outside the tub and he stopped to ask himself what he was doing. Then the curtain twitched, Angel's hands shot out and grabbed him, and he found himself lifted bodily and deposited between Angel and the stream of water from the shower head.

It felt good.

Angel didn't waste any time. He seldom did. He simply leaned down, tilted Lindsey's head back and kissed the living daylights out of him. Lindsey closed his eyes against the water trickling down over his scalp and tried not to drown in either the spray or the kiss.

It felt incredibly good.

Then Angel wasn't kissing him anymore, and he blinked water out of his eyes as he was turned again and leaned against the back wall of the shower. Before he could complain about being manhandled like a life-sized blow-up doll, Angel slid down the front of Lindsey's body and swallowed his cock.

So much for complaints.

The sounds coming out of his mouth couldn't be termed coherent by even the broadest definition. His hands reached out of their own accord and buried themselves in Angel's thick hair, combing convulsively through the short strands. His knees threatened to give, but when they tried they bumped into Angel's shoulders, so he stayed propped upright. The water splashed against Angel's back, and Lindsey could see rainbows in the drops as they splattered back against the sides of the tub.

Or maybe that was just his brain exploding behind his eyelids. At least, that's what it felt like when he came. He couldn't even give warning. Getting sucked by a man who didn't have to draw breath had an amazing effect. He'd never gotten continuous pressure like that before, and he had to pry one hand off Angel's head and cram his fist in his mouth or he would have screamed loudly enough to bring Wesley in at a run.

Some things went better without an audience. Getting his mind, and the rest of him, blown by Angel in the shower was definitely one of them.

Then he was drained, and he was sliding helplessly down the tiles, and Angel was catching him. Holding him on his knees in the bottom of the tub, the water washing around their legs. Kissing him, biting, hungry kisses on Lindsey's mouth and neck and cheek. Angel started to rock against him and Lindsey summoned enough strength for one word.

"Wait."

Angel stopped licking his throat and looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Lindsey gave him a grin he had a feeling was lopsided, then concentrated all his energy on turning around. The light went on in Angel's expression and he let loose a low growl.

Then he reached down and helped.

Lindsey leaned his cheek against the steamy tile and closed his eyes as Angel shifted forward, knees pushing Lindsey's far apart. The cool hard length of Angel's thighs between his own felt good against his heated skin. Then Angel touched him, fingers sliding into him, and Lindsey groaned despite his best efforts to stay quiet.

This was a new one on Lindsey, and even with his orgasm and his exhaustion, he was tight. Angel took his time, distracting Lindsey from what the fingers were doing to his ass by moving his other hand around and playing with Lindsey's chest. Nipping and kissing the side of his throat. Slipping down and playing with his balls. By the time Angel decided Lindsey was ready for him, Lindsey was more than ready for him. He was hard again, a minor miracle, and he was moaning continuously into the arm he'd raised to brace himself against the tiles.

Angel shifted up, then in, lifting Lindsey off his knees with the first thrust. Lindsey screamed, biting his arm to muffle the noise. Most of the height Angel had on Lindsey was in his legs, and Lindsey was feeling every inch of it now as Angel moved in him. Each thrust took him up into the wall, pushing his erection into Angel's hand, throwing his weight back against Angel and pushing Angel so far in him Lindsey thought he could feel the pressure against his heart.

It was a hell of a first time.

As slowly as he'd taken time to prepare him, Angel took the time when taking him. Lindsey hit the edge of climax only to be brought back from it again and again, until he was banging his head against his arm without being aware of it. Then Angel thrust the fingers of his free hand through Lindsey's hair and pulled his head back. The new angle kept Lindsey leaning back against Angel, completely off balance, with Angel buried in him to the balls, Lindsey's legs splayed uselessly to either side of Angel's. Angel pumped his hips, keeping everything else still.

This time when Lindsey teetered on the edge of orgasm Angel pushed him over. Lindsey instinctively shoved his fist back in his mouth as Angel bit into the muscle at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. No fangs, but he didn't need them. The brush of pain was a perfect grace note to the climax wracking Lindsey. He was barely aware of Angel moving in him throughout.

When it was over, they were curled together against the side of the tub. The water was getting cold, but since Angel was covering Lindsey and taking the brunt of the spray he didn't really care. His knees were getting sore, though. And his muscles had come unstrung. Far from protesting when Angel practically carried him out of the shower, Lindsey let him do whatever he wanted. The towel felt good. The sheets felt better.

He wasn't aware of falling asleep, but when he woke up it was early evening. Angel lay behind him, the sheet wrapped around them both, binding them together. Lindsey stared down at the muscular arm trapping him to the mattress and thought about how strange it was to share a bed with someone who didn't breathe. Or anyone at all, for that matter. It had been awhile.

Then he spared a moment's thanks that it was Los Angeles in July, so at least he wasn't freezing his ass off, because his hair was still damp, the pillow was wet under his head, and Angel was siphoning off all Lindsey's body heat.

Not to mention the fact that his butt was sore.

There was movement behind him, then the hand that had been curled into a loose fist in front of his chest uncurled. Stretched. Reached with unerring accuracy directly for Lindsey's groin.

Lindsey's eyes widened.

A rough sound like a purr started behind his left ear. "Uhmmm ..." Angel breathed.

Oh, well. Lindsey grinned. They had a few hours before the attack on Wolfram and Hart commenced. Might as well put it to good use. Angel's hand moved, and Lindsey turned his head to moan into the clammy pillow. If that was any indication, they would be put to very good use.

So would he.




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