Work Text:
She finds him in his dark office, sitting facing the bank of windows, a glass of Scotch in his hand. She can tell it's not his first.
"What do you want, Lilah?" Wesley asks, not even looking at her.
"Did you gain precognitive abilities?"
"I can see your reflection in the window."
Suddenly nervous she fiddles with the end of the red Hermes scarf around her throat, then bolsters herself and steps around his desk to perch on the edge next to him. "So..."
"I would act all shocked at Angel's actions, but, really, what he did is quite typical of him." Snorting, he takes a sip from his glass, nearly draining it, then dangles it down by his hip as he props one foot up on the window sill.
A rush of heat goes through Lilah. For months she's been actively avoiding thinking of him as sexy. The shaved chin and throat, the button down shirts and loafers, those all helped. Now he's a mess, in faded jeans, a wrinkled Henley and boots, and she remember why she wanted him so much. "Actually, I was surprised you never questioned why he agreed to come here."
"Oh, I questioned, but...that Wesley, he never would have pushed it."
Glancing down, Lilah sees the self-disgust twist on his face and reaches out to brush it away, but then stops.
She has no clue if he'll let her touch him or reject her out of hand.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, then she twists towards the cart holding several bottles and glasses and pours herself a shot of vodka which she downs in one swallow. Liquid courage, although it takes a lot of alcohol to even affect her. "You changed a lot more than I expected."
"We all did. It's rather frightening how the removal of one thing from your life can change you so completely." Finally, Wesley looks over at her, a dark look on his face that sends shivers through her at its familiarity. "Without Connor, I had no reason to go against Angel. He had no reason to nearly kill me and send me packing. There was no reason for me to harden both physically and emotionally." Draining his glass, he picked up the bottle and poured himself another. "There was no reason for you and I to have been together."
Slowly she nods and crosses one leg over the other, swinging it slightly. Her short skirt rides up and she notices that he notices, and can't help but smile darkly. "Did you ever wonder why physically you were different?"
"You mean my body honed for combat? No. I ignored a lot of tiny clues as to the changes in myself. For instance, why contacts, after years of avoiding them? Where did all the weapons in my apartment come from? Watchers are trained in guns but encouraged then to never use them, but I have an arsenal. And there are scars on my body I didn't remember getting."
Drinking, he looks at her again. "You and Angel were the only ones to remember." At her nod, his eyes narrow and he slams the glass down on his desk, sloshing whiskey over his fingers. Shaking it off he rises on unsteady legs and turns to face her.
One thing she will never be is frightened of Wesley. The darkness beginning to spiral out of him again has only ever been what she's wanted. When he smacks his hands down on the desk on either side of her hips and leans down to glare into her eyes, she smiles up at him and covers his hands with her own. "Yes, but I wasn't allowed to tell you. It would have broken the agreement. You had to find out on your own."
"Did you care?"
That silkily spoken question startles her and she blinks up at him. "What?"
"When you'd see me laughing with Fred, holding her hand, kissing her, did you fucking care, Lilah?" he bites out.
If she could still pale, would she be doing so? The anger makes her uncomfortable. Talking about Fred makes her squirm. She never liked the woman but no one deserves to be wiped from all reality as she was. "Yes," she finally admits, "But losing you to her when you were your true self hurt a Hell of a lot more."
"I could never be a villain."
"No, you're the big fucking hero," she mocks and shoves him back from her so she can stand on four inch heels which puts them on an even level. "I'm not the villain here either. None of us are angels," she snorts in derision. "We're all guilty of something. So I worked for demons and still do. I sold my soul for a corner office and junior partnership. None of that made me less than human with human feelings and you spit all over them."
"Then why are you here, Lilah?"
"Because I'm a fucking moth to your flame. Even in the end of my life I was drawn to you, wanted to help you. Because I loved you," she swears passionately, her shoulders trembling with the intensity of her frustration and confusion. For months she's been solid, done her job, interacted with him only on a professional level.
All the while craving him.
But, not the Wesley that existed after the spell. Not the good man in love with the princess. Not the stalwart hero. In that Wesley she could no longer find the flawed man with the darkness she'd help spawn and the wicked personality to match her own.
So, she'd waited.
And now...her wait is over.
Surging against him, she cups his stubbled cheeks and presses her lips to his.
Wesley doesn't hesitate. Only the day before he would have pushed her away, gaped at her, probably reddened in embarrassed confusion. But, now he only grips her arms tightly enough to hurt and twists their lips together in raw need.
But, the kiss only lasts a moment and then he's holding her away from him, eyes glittering into hers. "My feelings for Fred are real." His voice is hoarse, broken, but he's angry.
She can handle anger.
"Yes."
"Before this and now. The true me and the false."
"Yes." It hurts, but that's what broke them apart the year before, though now it's something Lilah believes she can work with. "But she's gone and looking at Illyria is like probing an open wound, isn't it."
It wasn't a question and she's not surprised when Wesley nods tightly but still doesn't release her. She wonders if he knows even her dead skin can bruise.
He used to enjoy bruising her as much as she enjoyed receiving his marks.
"What do you want, Lilah?" Wesley finally asks, his voice weary.
"What I've always wanted. You." It's simple and, yet, so incredibly complicated.
Snorting, he leans forward and breathes expensive whiskey against her cheek. "And why would I go back to you?"
"Where else are you going to go, Wes? This is all going to end badly, in fire and death. Angel's plan is reckless and now with Connor back and all your memories returned, everything is falling apart on him. Yet, you'll stand by him, won't you."
"Even though a part of me wants to stake the bastard in his sleep, of course."
"You've always been loyal." Turning her head, she brushes her lips across his. "You can be loyal to her memory and still be mine."
Finally releasing her, Wesley steps back to rest his hips on the window ledge and cross his arms over his chest. His eyes roam over her elegantly dressed curves, lingering on her breasts, her hips, the turn of her calf. "I loved her," he says bleakly, "But I don't know if that was real. Fred was an ideal. Our relationship seemed so simple and pure and I thought it was perfect."
"If that was true or not, I don't care, Wes." When he looks shocked at her callousness, she shrugs. "I never saw what you did in her. The two of you just didn't work. Angel slotted you two together like ill matched puzzle pieces."
Color flares on his cheeks and the hands on his biceps fist as his eyes darken. "You really are a bitch."
Lilah laughs, a hard sound. "This can't be a revelation to you."
"Even with her death, I'm not as low as I was when I came to you," he snarls in response.
"Then don't come to me, Wes, but don't hide from the truth, either. This is the real you. A broken, angry, lost soul whom I want. Martyr yourself on her memory, drink yourself into oblivion, die for Angel's lost cause. I still want you."
Turning, she strides confidently towards the door, because he's angry and that's something she understands. He was angry through most of their relationship.
It's what made it so hot, made her want him so blindly.
Maybe even a part of why she loved him then and loves him still.
At the door, Lilah looks over her shoulder and sees that his eyes have followed her, blazing with a passion that has been missing for too long. "You know where I'll be."
A few minutes later she enters her darkened apartment on the little used residential floor. The liaison for the Senior Partners, she can't leave the building so Angel grudgingly gave her a place to live.
Outside of cleaning staff no one else has ever been in her rooms.
Lilah leaves the door open.
She's confident she won't be alone for long.
End