Stay.

Author- Midnight Faith

Archiving- Fanfiction.net, The Angel elders, Ace of Harts. Anyone else just ask. I won't say no and send the URL so I can have a look at the other stuff you've got.

Disclaimer- I don't own Lindsey, Lilah or anyone else from Angel. Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt do. So deal…

Genre- Short story, angst, fluff towards the end.

Rating- PG to be on the safe side. Maybe even a G

Spoilers- 'Dead End.'

Primary characters- Lindsey, Lilah

Primary pairings- L/Li

Summary- Lindsey muses about leaving Wolfram and Hart… and leaving someone behind

Lindsey McDonald threw his belongings angrily into the cardboard box on the centre of his desk as fast as he could. He had to get out, this building was sapping his energy, wrapping itself around his lungs so tightly he couldn't breathe. It might have even been guilt. He would go. Get out of Wolfram and Hart, get out of LA. He had to get out before someone persuaded him to stay. Before she persuaded him to stay.

'No, no Lindsey don't even think about her, she's no reason to stay.' One half of him screamed, but the other half screamed louder. 'Don't be stupid Lindsey. She's the reason. She's the reason you come here every day. To watch her, to protect her.' He shook the thoughts away. Who was he kidding? As if someone like her needed protecting. It wasn't as if she couldn't look after herself.

He stared down at his new hand, *his* new hand. It wasn't his. Ripped cruelly apart from its owner left to die, to suffocate in a haze of dry ice. This hand wasn't any reason to stay. He remembered just yesterday, sitting across the table from her, so close he could smell her, writing 'kill, kill' over and over again on a scrap of paper. It was all about her. Always had been, always would be if he stayed. All for her. Ever watching, never seeing her true reflection, just blind eyes, never to touch. Her.

He looked out over his city of Angels. It had been his city once. Their city. They'd ruled it together, their dark underworld. She'd called the population Lindsey's Angels, whispering in his ear before kissing him so softly. He'd return the kiss, her hard demeanour melting away and he'd dissolve in the strawberry taste of her mouth… Now it was just millions of fairy lights, each one a beacon of shattered hopes and dreams. She'd be out there somewhere. Plotting evilly probably conspiring with some demonic force. Deep down, in the darkest corners of his heart he knew she wasn't evil. He knew the real her. Big, frightened eyes begging him to run away with her. Why hadn't he gone with her? Why hadn't they left and kept running forever or at least until they'd got to Mexico or some other place. Far away. They'd been good together once, a long time ago. What had gone wrong? Too much money, too much power, too much evil. Touching evil, that was her. Not willing to be dragged into the darkness. Just touching it, just a little taste. Him? He'd been sucked in long ago. Not as strong as her, his resistance futile against the pull of the despair that evil brings.

He threw the very last of his things into the box. A decanter of whisky and six tumblers. He thought of all the times she'd sat on his desk, drinking that whisky, taunting him, teasing him. She was the only one that ever drunk that whiskey. He never did. So why was it still here? To draw her in? Just to be with her for five minutes, his fix of her, euphoria running through his veins, then that longing ache in the pit of his stomach when she went away again to touch the darkness. Did she feel it too? He'd never know and he suspected she never felt anything. Love; hate the heartbreak he was going through right now over leaving her to get sucked closer and closer to the darkness' evil nucleus.

He took one look around the corruption of his office. He realised he'd never get a chance to say goodbye to her. And good luck. He'd wish her good luck. She'd need it staying here. And to say all the things he'd wanted to say to her over the years, but never had the courage to. It'd never been the right time. And it was now? To say you're beautiful, you're smart, you're powerful and I love you. He was taken aback but that last thought. Did he really love her? Of course he did. With all the evilness of his heart. Tears sprung to his eyes but he never let them run down his cheeks. 'Be strong, be cold, be emotionless,' he told himself, 'just like her.' He imagined what she'd say if he ever told her. Would she laugh? No, she wouldn't laugh. He didn't think he'd ever seen her laugh. Not once. Did that mean she was unhappy? He didn't know, he never would. He just wanted to see her one last time, one last fleeting glance to carry her memory with him forever.

He took a deep breath and picked up his box of memories. The decanter, her decanter reflected the moonlight streaming in through the slits in the blinds of the window. He made the impulsive decision to leave the decanter outside her office door. Maybe she'd even think of him sometimes when she drank from it. Wishful thinking. She'd probably never think about him again, probably forgotten about him already. He'd given up everything for her, didn't that mean something? It wouldn't for her.

He looked towards the door and almost fainted in surprise when he saw her standing there. Everything he'd ever felt for her raced through his body in one powerful rush of adrenaline. Silhouetted against the light from the corridors, the moonlight catching against her features, highlighting her eyes making them glow in the half light. She was a beautiful enchantress.

"Lilah," he said struggling to void his voice of emotion and his eyes of tears for her and her soul, "Come to bid out last goodbyes?" Sarcasm. His last defence against true beauty.

"No don't," she said, her voice a soft, lilting melody across his office, void of all it's usual harshness, she held the palms of her hands up to him. A sign of peace. He thought he heard emotion in her voice. Maybe he did. Could she possibly feel anything for him? He set the box down on his desk again, and leaned against it, not trusting her completely. He waited no stranger to waiting for her. "Lindsey… just. I'm only going to ask you this once, and if you say no, then… you say no," She walked towards him, purposefully, deliberately, until her body was pressed up against his. He could smell her perfume, dewberry. The same as always. A wave of memories hit him. That perfume. The first he'd ever bought for her. Had she been wearing it ever since. He could feel her heart beat. Hear it thundering. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to kiss her with the passion he was feeling for her right now. He thought his heart would explode it was racing so fast. She looked him right in the eye. A melding of blue and brown. "Stay," she said simply, pleading with him the way she had when she'd asked him to run away with her, but with more sincerity. He could tell her heart was breaking, just like his was.

"Lilah, I can't…" he told her, feeling his heart snap in half at the thought of leaving her, his forehead, leaning against hers.

"No, not with Wolfram and Hart, with me," she said. She pulled him into a sweet embrace. 'So this is what heaven feels like,' Lindsey thought. He didn't need to say a word. The way he hugged her said more than words ever could. "My stuff's outside," she told him.

"Let's get out of here," he said picking up his box, and wishing he had three hands so she could take comfort from the feel of his hand in hers. He didn't offer to carry her box, she didn't need any knights in shining armour.

"Where can we go?" she asked him looking like an innocent little girl, maybe she did need protecting.

"I know the place," he said, "You just have to trust me,"

"There's nothing left to lose," she reminded him. And she was right. They'd lost everything. No homes, no jobs, no nothing.

"I love you," he said barely audible against her clicking heels and their contact with the marble floor,

"I love you too," she said her voice barely above a whisper. He heard it. Their road to redemption would be a rocky one. Homeless, jobless and alone. But they did have one thing. They had each other. And they both took comfort in that as they walked out of Wolfram and Hart's double glass doors for the last time…

To be continued…