Title: Getting the Joke
He doesnt smell like sex, and that is the only thing that has amused Angel all night. Not that the fight wasnt a rush, or that saving the few bodies Wolfram & Hart left unmutilated wasnt gratifying, blowing up the building had a certain poetic justice to it, but somehow knowing that Lindsey doesnt smell like sex is the clear highlight.
Such typical Darla, leaving her scent all over him. Musky, burnt flesh, lipstick and blood, that combination of uniquely Darla roars over Lindseys skin, seeps from his clothes, but its the absence of anything but his own unrequited arousal that sends Angel into the wall, clutching his sides and wiping tears from his eyes.
What the hells so funny? Lindsey asks, desperately trying to look taller than his five-foot-barely-anything frame will allow.
Angel cant answer, it seems unduly cruel to point out the obvious fact that Lindseys getting about as much action as he is, despite having one of the worlds most insatiable women living under his roof. Yet, the jab is so sweet Angel cant help but make it, Just admiring the essence of Darla, minus the essence that is.
Anybody ever tell you you talk too much?
Not really, Angel says, pushing himself up the wall until hes standing on his own again, the last shakes of laughter rumbling out of him. Usually I get the opposite.
Yeah, I dont get that. Shaking his head, Lindsey turns from Angel, hopping into the car. Just take me back to my truck.
But the nights so young, Angel says in mock surprise. Garnering no response, Angel slides behind the wheel, putting the Belvedere in drive and turning away from the still smoldering building. You know she wont be there when you get home.
Lindsey ignores him, not that Angel expected a response.
Once she sees that her bad boys gone all warm and fuzzy, Angel snorts, shell be packing her bags.
Just means you wont know which direction shell come at you from next, which means we win.
Is that what you think you are? We? Pulling the car to the side of the road, Angel bites back the laughter building within. Youre not part of a we anymore, Lindsey. I have a feeling Wolfram & Hart arent going to take tonight in stride, and any we you had with Darla was just a game to her.
Everything is a game to Darla, Lindsey agrees, a few drops of melancholy tingeing his voice. If you think Darla came back
Angels hand is gripping Lindseys shirt, twisting just below his neckline until the fabric threatens his oxygen supply, She didnt come back, he hisses, less malice in his voice than he had hoped to convey. It was you who brought her back, if the plan was for her to drive me out of my mind you maybe should have figured out shed have to be a little obsessive. You can relate.
Releasing his grip, Angel rests back in his seat, pulling the car onto the road again.
Im not obsessed. Lindsey growls, wheezing briefly as he tries to catch his breath. I may have a hand I cant control, but the rest of me His voice trails off, forgetting who hes trying to convince.
Not so amusing when youre the one shes trying to fuck up is it? Angel asks, with what may be genuine pathos, but hes not sure. Hes had too many people telling him how he should feel for too long, and sympathy for Lindsey isnt an emotion he wants creeping in on the exhilaration of the night.
I was fucked up way before she got here, Lindsey says, small laugh in his throat as he watches the city blur by.
And yet, not fucked, Angel laughs. Aint that a bitch?
When they reach Lindseys truck the silence between them is almost pleasant. Nothing left to say that doesnt involve Darla, and neither wants to let her back into the conversation.
Jumping out of the car Lindsey cant help but turn back to Angel, leaning over the side of the car. Thanks.
Where are you going to go?
Back to work.
They wont have you, Angel says as Lindsey turns to go, watching as he pauses for one slow pace.
No one will.