Work Text:
Lilah reapplied her lipstick and adjusted her dress before opening the door and walking into the offices of Angel Investigations. She had a proposition for L.A.'s newest bunch of do-gooders, and she was confident it was one they couldn't resist. Cordelia Chase, Doyle's gal Friday, sat typing at her desk, but stopped to give Lilah the once over.
"Welcome to Angel Investigations. We help the helpless. How can we help you?" Cordelia made sure to emphasis the helpless bit of her usual spiel. She didn't like the look of the woman in front of her. From the designer shoes, to the clinging red dress, this broad spelled Trouble, with a capital T. Lilah tossed her hair over her shoulder before responding.
"You can let your boss know that Lilah Morgan's here to see him. My business is between him and me."
Snapping her gum, Cordelia got up to knock on Doyle's office door. No, she did not like the look of this Lilah Morgan one bit. Doyle raised his eyebrows at the mention of the broad's name. He'd heard of her before.
"What brings a classy broad like you to this part of town?" Doyle wasn't going to mince words.
"I like green. The more green the better. I've heard that you like green too." Lilah deftly pulled a wad of bills from her purse, and placed them on the desk in front of Doyle.
"That depends. Never thought green went with my complexion. Have a seat. Whiskey?"
Flashing one of her more seductive grins, Lilah demurely declined his offer.
"I hear the namesake of your firm's long been dust." Lilah went for the kill. Better to have Doyle on the defensive. It meant he would be less likely to question her motives for coming to him.
"What's it to you? If you've gotten something to say, say it." Doyle furrowed his brow and stared icily at Lilah.
"It's like this. I need information, and I hear that you're the one to go to in cases like this."
"May be that I like greenbacks, but what makes you think that I'd be willing to share my information with you?"
Ignoring Doyle's question, Lilah continued on. "There's a new player in town. English. Been shaking things up for my boss, and when my boss ain't happy, this two-bit town ain't gonna be happy. I assume you've heard of Holland Manners? Well, this new player, he could make things very difficult for us."
Doyle leaned across his desk and stopped inches short of Lilah's face. "What's this 'us' business?" "Word on the street is, he's gonna shake things up. Wants to try and bring Wolfram and Hart to its knees, leave it begging for mercy. Next on his agenda was going to be a certain vampire with a soul, but since he's gone, you'll have to do."
Lilah sat back in the chair and waited for Doyle's reply. She could see the wheels turning in his head, and she knew he was trying to add things up.
"English? Does he have a name?"
"That all depends, see. I need to know if you're willing to share."
When Doyle didn't answer her right away, she stood up. She could see she wasn't getting anywhere with this hard-nosed gumshoe. She'd just have to take her business elsewhere. As she reached the door, Doyle called out to her.
"Alright, I'll bite. Now what's his name?"
Lilah turned and smiled. "The name's Wyndham-Pryce. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Meet me at Caritas. 10 o'clock tonight. See you then, hot stuff."
Lilah didn't permit herself to smile until she had left the building. What a lark -- that clown had fallen for her routine hook, line and sinker! Angel Investigations had proved to be a thorn in her side for too long. No matter how hard she tried, they foiled her plans at every turn. She had lost one too many clients to the afterlife. Fairly soon, she knew Holland would want her out of the firm and she knew the only way out was in a wooden box.
Deciding to take the long way home, Lilah passed by the city gardens. She couldn't help but wonder what Paris was like this time of year. Maybe she'd head to Paris until all this blew over. She always felt restless in the spring.
***
"What can I get for you sweetheart?" The barkeep flashed Lilah with one of his contagious grins.
"Please Lorne. I've been coming here since you opened the joint." Lilah couldn't help but laugh. She and Lorne had been playing this game since the day she first laid eyes on the green-skinned demon. Added a bit of continuity to her life.
"Whiskey on the rocks, coming up." When Lorne ducked behind the counter to get her glass, Lilah surveyed her surroundings. No sign of Doyle yet, but the evening was still young. Lilah smiled coyly back at Lorne when he served her drink. Tonight was going to be a good night. If it all went according to plan, she'd have signed her contract by 9 a.m. the next morning. Licking her lips, Lilah turned her back to the bar and waited for her detective to make an appearance.
What Lilah couldn't know at that moment was that Doyle was, in fact, in the bar. Only, he was in a backroom, taking care of a little bit of personal business.
"Now see here, Gunn. I told you I'd pay you when I had the money. I just need a couple more hours." Doyle did his best not to let the goon in front of him know that he had really shaken him up. "I'd be more inclined to believe you if you ever came through with the cash. So, not only do you owe me money, but you're also looking for information. I'm not your stool pigeon." Gunn made sure he casually pulled his blazer back to let Doyle know what he was packing, and what the consequences would be if he didn't cough up the cash -- fast. Of course, Gunn couldn't know that Cordelia was standing right behind him, packing something of her own. In one swift motion, she brought down the wine bottle. Doyle flinched prematurely; he hated to see good alcohol go to waste. The trajectory of the wine bottle was blocked by Gunn's arm. He had spent too much time with flat feet that trouble making good on their debts to be fooled into getting clubbed over the head.
"1927. Good year." Gunn placed the bottle on the table next to him, and turned his back to Cordelia. She smiled sheepishly and shrugged. At least she had tried. Thinking quickly, Doyle pulled out the wad of cash Lilah had left for him earlier.
"Look, I've got about half of what I owe you here. Whaddya say we let bygones be bygones, huh?" He handed the money over to Gunn, who counted it.
"I think maybe we could come up with something." Gunn smiled.
***
"I hate to say it cupcake, but it looks like your man ain't coming tonight." Lorne appeared before Lilah, wiping the counter. Lilah shut her compact to look at the barkeep.
"Can't say that I'm surprised." Lilah turned to look at the entrance of the bar. She was not pleased -- not in the least.
"Why don't I get you a sea breeze? My compliments." Just as Lorne went to prepare his signature drink, Lilah waved him off.
"That won't be necessary. I've got bigger fish to fry tonight." She had just spotted Doyle, and Cordelia (curse that woman!) walking towards her. She got up, and motioned for them to join her in a more private booth in the back of the bar.
"I'd say we're sorry that we're late, but really, we aren't." Cordy eyed Lilah. Lilah responded in kind.
"You know, I remember asking Doyle to meet me here, but nothing about his meddlesome secretary."
"Why, you --"
"Cordelia, Lorne looks lonely. Why don't you go keep him some company?" Doyle handed her a couple of bills, and watched her leave, defeated.
"'He has a wife and three children in England.'"
Deadpan, Lilah responded, "'They usually do, though not always in England.' Do you fancy yourself to be Sam Spade? Because I'm just not feeling it." Lilah cocked her head. "Let's get down to business. What do you know?"
Doyle slid a folder across the sticky table top. "Former watcher. Got sacked when his slayer ran off with the Immortal. Arrived in town three nights ago, believes the Immortal is helping to back Wolfram and Hart's Los Angeles offices. He's out for blood."
Lilah ran her foot up Doyle's leg while leaning towards him suggestively. Pouting, she shook her head. "I gave you all that money, and all you can do is give me the news everyone with halfway decent connections knows? Really Doyle, I had thought you could find more information for me than that."
Lilah watched as Doyle tried to keep his cool, but she could tell that she was getting to him. She loved playing with her prey. Clearing his throat, Doyle turned a couple of pages over in the file.
"Plans on getting to your boss, Holland Manners, on the equinox, which is tonight. How, I'm not too sure. Also not sure where his agenda with Angel Investigations fits in all this. I think you're just throwing me a couple of rotten herrings."
Lilah ran her hand up Doyle's arm, and stared into his eyes. She was pouring on the charm and how. She couldn't let his suspicion of her ruin her plans.
"Heard your old friend Angel and the Immortal weren't exactly the best of friends, until Angel struck a deal with him. Naturally, the man would be after anyone with connections to the Immortal. What are you going to do about it Doyle? I obviously don't have the resources, or demon lineage, that you do."
"Just say I stop him. What then?"
"You get the rest of the money I owe you for the job. Enough to get that goon Gunn off your back, and maybe get you outta the country for a couple of months. I hear Paris is nice this time of year."
Lilah and Doyle sat in silence as Doyle mulled the idea over.
"Well, despite my better judgment, I've got a vindictive Englishman to stop. Here," Doyle threw a bill onto the table, "this is for the whiskey I owe you."
Lilah sat back and watched Doyle leave, a satisfied smile on her face. Sliding the bill into her purse, she got up and flashed Lorne a wink on her way out. She had a ritual to attend.
***
The warehouse was silent. It had been used by the Scourge to build their humanity decimating weapon, and as such, it was the most potent spot for the ritual. Holland Manners had known what he was doing when he had suggested this building. The robed figures finished preparing the pentagram on the warehouse floor, and then blended back into the shadows.
***
Trying not to count her chickens before they hatched, Lilah couldn't help but smile. She stopped on the third parking level, and waited for Holland to come over to her car. All the pieces were in place.
***
Stopping at his office, Doyle made sure to load up on artillery. And just in case, he slipped a little something into Cordelia's drink. He couldn't have her following him to certain doom. He made sure that she was comfortable on his couch and that the note he left her was in plain sight. Something about tonight didn't sit right with him; it was almost as if he had a premonition that things were going to go south, fast. Without Angel, or a message from the Powers that Be if they existed, he knew he wouldn't be able to put his finger on it in time.
***
Almost as if Mother Nature herself knew what was planned for the evening, the sky clouded over. Drusilla watched, with glee, as the stars winked out after whispering dark secrets to her. The naughty lawyer woman was going to bring her daddy back.
***
Lightning flashed, and Lilah could hear thunder rolling in the distance. She used the rearview window of her car to reapply her lipstick. Beside her, Holland Manners pulled a black hood over his head, hiding his features. Together, the two figures walked into the warehouse before the heavens opened up and a torrential downpour began.
Holland brought some rope out from the folds of his robe. Lilah put her hands in front of her, and watched as he bound them together. She let him lead her over to a chair, and sat patiently as he bound and gagged her. Initially, he had thought he should rough Lilah up a bit, make it look more authentic, but he didn't want to risk Lilah's blood interfering with the ritual. Instead, he set to tearing her clothes to make it look as if she had struggled to free herself. Pity, he thought. That dress must have cost someone a pretty penny. Finally satisfied with his work, Holland stepped back into the shadows of the warehouse to wait for the sacrificial lamb to show up. They didn't have long to wait.
***
Doyle was dripping wet. Gunn had given him the directions to the warehouse where Wesley was believed to have been hiding out, but he hadn't mentioned anything about a freak thunderstorm. Or a huge Prio demon waiting to attack him. That probably would have cost him extra.
"This just isn't my night, is it?" Doyle muttered under his breath before charging towards the demon, his machete firmly grasped in hand.
***
The sounds of the fight outside drifted into the warehouse. Breathing deeply through her nose, Lilah prepared herself for what was to come.
***
Doyle entered, dripping wet and looking like he had been through a meat grinder. His lip was split and bleeding, and he was breathing heavily. Scanning the room, he spotted a woman struggling against her bonds in a chair. He moved towards her, and found a wild-eyed Lilah looking up at him. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she looked deathly afraid. Not wasting any time, he removed the gag from her mouth, and started working at the ropes around her legs.
"You have to get out of here Doyle! It's a trap!"
Doyle ignored her until he had finished. Not wanting to deal with a woman in shock, he handed her his flask of whiskey, and waited for her to take a slug. Slowly, he helped her to get up.
"Don't you worry about me, little lady. I can take care of myself."
He took a step back from Lilah, to see if she could stand on her own. Instead, she faltered and stumbled into his arms. She trembled like a frightened kitten, and he cupped her chin and gently tilted her head.
"You're safe with me, sweetheart."
Doyle leaned down and kissed her. Tentatively at first, she returned the kiss, but anxiously broke it off.
"We have to get out of here." Lilah looked around her, trying to find the figures she knew were lurking in the shadows. She let Doyle support her, and she began to lead him across the warehouse floor. She had to make it look like they were heading for the doors, and not the pentagram. Fortunately, they were close enough together that it didn't take too much work.
As soon as the two were within the perimeter of the pentagram, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Lilah let out a gasp, and managed to sink to the floor -- outside of the pentagram.
Doyle foolishly stood his ground. His clenched and unclenched his fists, waiting for the robed figure to make the first move.
Holland pulled the hood back from his face, giving Doyle the full view of his features. He began to pace the perimeter of the pentagram, which only served to intensify Doyle's feelings that he had been had. He tried to move, but found he was rooted to the spot. It was only then that he had noticed Holland was chanting underneath his breath. Doyle tensed when Holland stopped over the body of Lilah.
"You leave her outta this! This is between you and me." Doyle couldn't control his outburst. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt something for the dame, and he was pretty sure that it wasn't disgust.
Before Holland could reply, another figure stepped out from the shadows. Doyle squinted and knew it could only be one person: Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. Well, well, Doyle thought. Holland's going to get his, and just in the nick of time, too.
Training a crossbow on Holland, Wesley went over to Lilah and helped her to stand up.
"I'm all about helping the damsels in distress, but do you think you could maybe help a fella rooted to the spot? This leaves me in a pretty sticky situation if any of the goons I owe money to show up."
But Doyle had been mistaken about Wesley's alliances. Shocked, Doyle had no choice but to watch the macabre scene play out before his eyes: Wesley enfolded Lilah in a passionate kiss. From the looks of it, Doyle knew he had been double crossed. He never would have guessed that Lilah had bee playing him for a patsie. But then, he's always been blinded by broad's with legs, and a body, like hers.
Finally breaking off the kiss, Wesley turned to Doyle. "She is quite the actress, wouldn't you say?" Wesley paused, waiting for a reply, but none came.
"You were the one that was meant to die -- not Angel. The Senior Partners had arranged it all, but somehow, you managed to change the natural order of things. Tonight, I set things right." Wesley began chanting in Latin. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed. Doyle's blood splashed onto the warehouse floor in puddles. Lilah watched, with glee, as Doyle's life force was slowly drained from him.
The air surrounding Doyle changed colours rapidly -- from green to blue to purple back to green again. The closer Wesley came to draining all of Doyle's life force, the more intense the colours became. As Wesley reached the climax of his spell, the doors to the warehouse were thrown open by Drusilla. A final flash of lightning, and Doyle hit the floor. As he gasped his last breaths, Lilah pulled out the rest of the money that she owed him, and threw it into the pentagram.
"Can't say I don't make good on my debts. I must admit it was ---"
Lilah was cut off by a flash of blinding light. The air in the warehouse was alive with electricity, and a figure crashed onto the floor beside Doyle's now still body. Drusilla clapped with delight. "Daddy's home!"
Stepping over Doyle's body to get to Holland, Lilah ignored the blood that stained the bottom of her shoes. This wasn't the first time that she had to walk through someone's blood, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last either.
"I must say Lilah I am most pleased with your work. If you could just sign here," Holland made an 'X' on the piece of paper he had extricated from his robes, "and here."
Lilah signed her name on the dotted lines, and waited for Holland to make her appointment official.
Holland turned to Wesley. "May I introduce to you Wolfram and Hart's newest President of Special Projects, Lilah Morgan."
"I believe we've already met. Now, if you don't mind, we really should get him," Wesley pointed to the naked form in the pentagram, "somewhere secure. Can't have anyone knowing he's back. At least, not yet."
Lilah took one last look at the naked form before it was taken away by more robed figures. Angelus was back and life was gonna be swell.