Fic: ...and love is a thing that can never go wrong (Angel/Lindsey)
Time Stamp Meme Response #4 for novascotiasam
Title: ...and love is a thing that can never go wrong
Original Series: Medley of Extemporanea, et al
Time Stamp: A year before Angel arrived and A year into the future
Fandom: Angel
Pairing: Angel/Lindsey
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1622
About a year before Angel came to Pittsburgh Sasha strolled into town on a pair of legs that went up to here. She had skin the color of honey and a slow Louisiana drawl that crawled down Lindsey's spine and curled around his dick. He was a goner about five minutes after meeting her.
Everyone in the room could feel the raw power coming off her in waves. It was uncontrolled, completely wild, and only barely reined in. Carmen's eyes were gleaming with avarice when she welcomed the newcomer into the fold, but it was Lindsey who stepped up to offer a handshake that went on a lot longer than necessary.
*
"You don't get to be pissed about this," Lindsey says. "It had nothing to do with you."
Angel stops pacing the living room and stares at him. "You are not sitting there and saying that to me, of all people. Not when Wolfram and Hart gave you every detail of my entire life."
Sometimes Angel is so dense that Lindsey wants to hit him. "Ask me about your life in the fifteen years before you showed up here and see how much I know." Angel jerks slightly, startled by actual logic, and Lindsey curls his lips. "Right, that's what I thought." He leans back on the sofa and stares up at the ceiling. "It was over before you even got here, and it's none of your business."
"It's sort of my business now, isn't it?"
Lindsey shrugs. "Maybe. Guess you could see it that way."
He can hear Angel's teeth grinding together all the way across the room and he winces.
"Your ex-girlfriend is back in town," Angel says, over-enunciating and speaking slower than molasses creeps, "and it's maybe my business, and you guess you could see it that way?"
"Yeah."
"You know, sometimes I want to hit you."
Lindsey reaches to the coffee table for his drink and salutes him with it.
*
Lindsey and Sasha fell into bed together two days after they met. Though, technically, their first time was actually up against a wall, not in a bed. But they got there about six hours later and didn't leave for another seventy-two.
Sex with her was as wild and tumultuous as her magic, which would bleed out of her and cascade over him when he was fucking her, making him dizzy and turning his eyes the color of burnt copper for hours afterwards.
She moved in with him two weeks later, and he cleared out half his dresser and closet, freed up several shelves in the living room, and let her buy a really hideous set of dishes that they actually used.
That was about the time that Carmen started getting worried.
*
"How serious was it?"
Lindsey contemplates pulling the bed sheet over his head but he's a little more mature than that. Also, past experience has proven that it doesn't deter Angel.
"What kind of scale should I use?" he asks instead, sarcastic and pissy sounding because, Jesus, it's three in the morning and Angel's been stewing on his side of the bed for hours and Lindsey just wants to sleep.
"Lindsey." That's Angel's you're being unreasonable voice.
"Angel." And that's Lindsey's you're a fuckwit voice, which means they're at an impasse.
The silence is thick and tense, and it could go on like this for days, something Lindsey also knows from past experience, and he's too tired for this shit.
"What is it you really want to know, Angel?"
Angel sits up, puts his back against the headboard, and shrugs. "I don't know."
"Then I don't know what to tell you."
*
At the time Lindsey didn't second-guess anything about the relationship, not even the declaration of love he made just a month after he and Sasha got together. He'd never been happier, never felt so good, and he couldn't have imagined that there would be anything remotely odd about it.
Sasha was getting better at controlling her magic, wielding it almost effortlessly, and it was hardly pouring off her any longer, wasn't bringing people to their knees when she walked into a room. She started attending the Neutrality Movement meetings with Lindsey, sitting off to the side and reading while he heard complaints and requests and made decisions.
It was...nice. Better than, in fact. It was the first time he felt entirely free since arriving in the city.
*
"I did," Lindsey answers the next morning when Angel asks if he loved Sasha.
It seems to take Angel aback. "But Carmen told me...I thought you'd say..."
"What? That I thought it was love at the time but it really wasn't?" Lindsey snorts and steps out of the shower, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around his waist. "I don't get it when people say that. If you think it's love, feel it and believe it, then it is."
Angel gets into the still running shower and talks above the hiss of the spray. "Even when it turns out you were just high on magic for eight months? Is that still love?"
Lindsey freezes in the middle of reaching out for another towel for his hair. "Yeah," he says, and he can barely bring himself to speak above a whisper but he knows Angel can hear him. "It is."
*
It was Lucy who finally figured it out, and Lindsey learned after the fact that she called an emergency meeting in the middle of the night to alert everyone. But when it was all going down Lindsey didn't know anything until the night that Carmen lured Sasha away from the apartment and sent Frank and the twins in to collect him.
They took him to a safe house on the North Side, strapped him to a bed, and then Frank set up a circle and called upon the Loa.
Afterwards Carmen came by and because she'd known Lindsey back in the day she ignored his sullen glares and crossed arms.
"You were a grounding wire," she told him. "Sasha fed the magic into you and when it couldn't establish a foothold it seeped out harmlessly." Lindsey didn't say anything and Carmen cleared her throat. "She didn't know she was doing it. There was no...malicious intent."
"Where is she?"
Carmen met his gaze steadily. "Gone. I sent her to someone better equipped to help her."
Lindsey looked away. "Don't expect a thank you."
"I wasn't."
*
"It was addictive and it would have killed you. For real, this time." Lindsey nods in agreement with Angel's assessment and pulls onto the onramp for the Parkway East. "You call that love."
"Two words: Buffy Summers."
"That was different," Angel says defensively. "That was..."
"Destined? Star crossed?" Lindsey laughs harshly and jerks the wheel to merge with the traffic flow. "Spare me the bullshit, please. And could we drop this whole subject, too? I'm getting a little tired of dissecting an old relationship just to satisfy your morbid curiosity."
"That's not what it's about."
"Well, since you won't tell me what it's about, or what you want to know, all I can do is make random guesses. Feel free to correct me when you've got a goddamn clue about your motivation. Until then, shut up and let me drive."
*
Anyone else would have had to do some serious detoxing to come off the magic, but Lindsey wasn't just anyone. He wasn't even alive, for fuck's sake, so after the initial visit by the Loa he was fine. Physically, at least.
"I'm sorry," Lucy said when he finally agreed to see her.
She looked so miserable that Lindsey couldn't stay mad at her. "I know, Luce. It's not your fault."
"But you're miserable."
Lindsey smiled briefly. "For now, yeah. It'll pass, don't worry."
And it did. Pretty damn quickly, in fact, which everyone seemed to take as a sign that Lindsey had apparently realized nothing he'd felt was real. But that wasn't it, not at all.
*
They have lunch at a little Italian place in Monroeville, and it's mostly a silent affair until halfway through when Angel pushes away the water he's been pretending to drink.
"Do you want her back?" he asks.
Lindsey finishes chewing his food, swallows, and takes a long sip of his own water. "No," he answers when he's done.
Angel watches him closely. "She wants you back."
Lindsey nods because, yeah, she does, and she's been blatantly obvious about it.
"You're why she's here again."
And, yeah, Lindsey knows that, too.
*
The thing no one gets is that Lindsey didn't fall in love with the high, or the magically psychotropic state of being Sasha gave him. That was just icing.
*
More silent stewing on Angel's side of the bed, and Lindsey doesn't even have the energy anymore to be mildly irritated. He turns on his side, tucks the blanket around himself, and closes his eyes. To his surprise he falls asleep.
He wakes to Angel's lips on the back of his neck, and Angel's voice whispering into the darkened room.
"I don't want her here."
"Okay," Lindsey says quietly, without hesitation. He feels Angel's surprise and turns around to face him. He can't see shit, but Angel can, so he smiles. "That's all you had to say, you know."
*
Lindsey left Sasha's things where they were for a few weeks before he boxed them up and had Lucy send them to her in Ireland. Sasha called him when it arrived.
She said, "I'm sorry," and, "I didn't want to leave," and "I'll come back, I promise."
Lindsey said, "Me, too," and, "I know," and "You do what you need to."
And that was that. Closure. Or whatever the fuck they call it.
*
.End
Title: ...and love is a thing that can never go wrong
Original Series: Medley of Extemporanea, et al
Time Stamp: A year before Angel arrived and A year into the future
Fandom: Angel
Pairing: Angel/Lindsey
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1622
About a year before Angel came to Pittsburgh Sasha strolled into town on a pair of legs that went up to here. She had skin the color of honey and a slow Louisiana drawl that crawled down Lindsey's spine and curled around his dick. He was a goner about five minutes after meeting her.
Everyone in the room could feel the raw power coming off her in waves. It was uncontrolled, completely wild, and only barely reined in. Carmen's eyes were gleaming with avarice when she welcomed the newcomer into the fold, but it was Lindsey who stepped up to offer a handshake that went on a lot longer than necessary.
*
"You don't get to be pissed about this," Lindsey says. "It had nothing to do with you."
Angel stops pacing the living room and stares at him. "You are not sitting there and saying that to me, of all people. Not when Wolfram and Hart gave you every detail of my entire life."
Sometimes Angel is so dense that Lindsey wants to hit him. "Ask me about your life in the fifteen years before you showed up here and see how much I know." Angel jerks slightly, startled by actual logic, and Lindsey curls his lips. "Right, that's what I thought." He leans back on the sofa and stares up at the ceiling. "It was over before you even got here, and it's none of your business."
"It's sort of my business now, isn't it?"
Lindsey shrugs. "Maybe. Guess you could see it that way."
He can hear Angel's teeth grinding together all the way across the room and he winces.
"Your ex-girlfriend is back in town," Angel says, over-enunciating and speaking slower than molasses creeps, "and it's maybe my business, and you guess you could see it that way?"
"Yeah."
"You know, sometimes I want to hit you."
Lindsey reaches to the coffee table for his drink and salutes him with it.
*
Lindsey and Sasha fell into bed together two days after they met. Though, technically, their first time was actually up against a wall, not in a bed. But they got there about six hours later and didn't leave for another seventy-two.
Sex with her was as wild and tumultuous as her magic, which would bleed out of her and cascade over him when he was fucking her, making him dizzy and turning his eyes the color of burnt copper for hours afterwards.
She moved in with him two weeks later, and he cleared out half his dresser and closet, freed up several shelves in the living room, and let her buy a really hideous set of dishes that they actually used.
That was about the time that Carmen started getting worried.
*
"How serious was it?"
Lindsey contemplates pulling the bed sheet over his head but he's a little more mature than that. Also, past experience has proven that it doesn't deter Angel.
"What kind of scale should I use?" he asks instead, sarcastic and pissy sounding because, Jesus, it's three in the morning and Angel's been stewing on his side of the bed for hours and Lindsey just wants to sleep.
"Lindsey." That's Angel's you're being unreasonable voice.
"Angel." And that's Lindsey's you're a fuckwit voice, which means they're at an impasse.
The silence is thick and tense, and it could go on like this for days, something Lindsey also knows from past experience, and he's too tired for this shit.
"What is it you really want to know, Angel?"
Angel sits up, puts his back against the headboard, and shrugs. "I don't know."
"Then I don't know what to tell you."
*
At the time Lindsey didn't second-guess anything about the relationship, not even the declaration of love he made just a month after he and Sasha got together. He'd never been happier, never felt so good, and he couldn't have imagined that there would be anything remotely odd about it.
Sasha was getting better at controlling her magic, wielding it almost effortlessly, and it was hardly pouring off her any longer, wasn't bringing people to their knees when she walked into a room. She started attending the Neutrality Movement meetings with Lindsey, sitting off to the side and reading while he heard complaints and requests and made decisions.
It was...nice. Better than, in fact. It was the first time he felt entirely free since arriving in the city.
*
"I did," Lindsey answers the next morning when Angel asks if he loved Sasha.
It seems to take Angel aback. "But Carmen told me...I thought you'd say..."
"What? That I thought it was love at the time but it really wasn't?" Lindsey snorts and steps out of the shower, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around his waist. "I don't get it when people say that. If you think it's love, feel it and believe it, then it is."
Angel gets into the still running shower and talks above the hiss of the spray. "Even when it turns out you were just high on magic for eight months? Is that still love?"
Lindsey freezes in the middle of reaching out for another towel for his hair. "Yeah," he says, and he can barely bring himself to speak above a whisper but he knows Angel can hear him. "It is."
*
It was Lucy who finally figured it out, and Lindsey learned after the fact that she called an emergency meeting in the middle of the night to alert everyone. But when it was all going down Lindsey didn't know anything until the night that Carmen lured Sasha away from the apartment and sent Frank and the twins in to collect him.
They took him to a safe house on the North Side, strapped him to a bed, and then Frank set up a circle and called upon the Loa.
Afterwards Carmen came by and because she'd known Lindsey back in the day she ignored his sullen glares and crossed arms.
"You were a grounding wire," she told him. "Sasha fed the magic into you and when it couldn't establish a foothold it seeped out harmlessly." Lindsey didn't say anything and Carmen cleared her throat. "She didn't know she was doing it. There was no...malicious intent."
"Where is she?"
Carmen met his gaze steadily. "Gone. I sent her to someone better equipped to help her."
Lindsey looked away. "Don't expect a thank you."
"I wasn't."
*
"It was addictive and it would have killed you. For real, this time." Lindsey nods in agreement with Angel's assessment and pulls onto the onramp for the Parkway East. "You call that love."
"Two words: Buffy Summers."
"That was different," Angel says defensively. "That was..."
"Destined? Star crossed?" Lindsey laughs harshly and jerks the wheel to merge with the traffic flow. "Spare me the bullshit, please. And could we drop this whole subject, too? I'm getting a little tired of dissecting an old relationship just to satisfy your morbid curiosity."
"That's not what it's about."
"Well, since you won't tell me what it's about, or what you want to know, all I can do is make random guesses. Feel free to correct me when you've got a goddamn clue about your motivation. Until then, shut up and let me drive."
*
Anyone else would have had to do some serious detoxing to come off the magic, but Lindsey wasn't just anyone. He wasn't even alive, for fuck's sake, so after the initial visit by the Loa he was fine. Physically, at least.
"I'm sorry," Lucy said when he finally agreed to see her.
She looked so miserable that Lindsey couldn't stay mad at her. "I know, Luce. It's not your fault."
"But you're miserable."
Lindsey smiled briefly. "For now, yeah. It'll pass, don't worry."
And it did. Pretty damn quickly, in fact, which everyone seemed to take as a sign that Lindsey had apparently realized nothing he'd felt was real. But that wasn't it, not at all.
*
They have lunch at a little Italian place in Monroeville, and it's mostly a silent affair until halfway through when Angel pushes away the water he's been pretending to drink.
"Do you want her back?" he asks.
Lindsey finishes chewing his food, swallows, and takes a long sip of his own water. "No," he answers when he's done.
Angel watches him closely. "She wants you back."
Lindsey nods because, yeah, she does, and she's been blatantly obvious about it.
"You're why she's here again."
And, yeah, Lindsey knows that, too.
*
The thing no one gets is that Lindsey didn't fall in love with the high, or the magically psychotropic state of being Sasha gave him. That was just icing.
*
More silent stewing on Angel's side of the bed, and Lindsey doesn't even have the energy anymore to be mildly irritated. He turns on his side, tucks the blanket around himself, and closes his eyes. To his surprise he falls asleep.
He wakes to Angel's lips on the back of his neck, and Angel's voice whispering into the darkened room.
"I don't want her here."
"Okay," Lindsey says quietly, without hesitation. He feels Angel's surprise and turns around to face him. He can't see shit, but Angel can, so he smiles. "That's all you had to say, you know."
*
Lindsey left Sasha's things where they were for a few weeks before he boxed them up and had Lucy send them to her in Ireland. Sasha called him when it arrived.
She said, "I'm sorry," and, "I didn't want to leave," and "I'll come back, I promise."
Lindsey said, "Me, too," and, "I know," and "You do what you need to."
And that was that. Closure. Or whatever the fuck they call it.
*
.End