Who has made you smile today?

[tm_darla]

Being free of imminent death threats was definitely an advantage when one tried to get another job. On the downside of things, being rejected at three different museums without having the option of ripping someone's throat out was depressing.

The Museum of Contemporary Art was where Darla finally hit her stride again. Granted, this did involve

Comments

He's not stalking her, really...

[evilhandissue]

Being head of Special Projects on both coasts had it's good points. One of which was knowing the location of all the firm's "special projects" at all times of the day and night. The firm had enough friends in the right places to make it happen

[tm_darla]

Given that Cordelia moved out of the Hyperion and into a new place with Lindsey, Darla assumes he's reasonably well. She als has certain assumptions about territory, hers and Cordelias, which is why she hadn't checked. There is a suspicious lack of malice there; in the old days, she would have messed with the young couple just for the fun of it instead of hoping they'd have a genuine shot with each other

[evilhandissue]

Lindsey's attention had faded out while staring at a sculpture, so hearing Darla approach from behind caused him to blink a few times before he turned his head to acknowledge her presence.

His eyes were a bit duller than usual, and the smile didn't come to his face like it used to. His lip did lift though as he tried. He just wasn't that connected anymore.

"Wolfram and Hart doesn't have enough taste in art to have a department to devote to it," he stated.

[tm_darla]

He reminds her of someone who has taken opium; or of Kara, of all the people, dosed with valium during her first time at the hospital. She wonders whether medication actually would work for him, in his state, and then she realizes, again, that she has no idea what state the walking dead of Wolfram and Hart actually are in; just that it has no traits of the vampire one.

"Shows how things have declined since the Renaissance," says Darla. "The Borgia were huge patrons of the arts."

Then she tilts her head to one side. "How are you, Lindsey?"

[evilhandissue]

Lindsey snorted at that. "No. Lee Mercer. Before you were brought back, Holland had three of us juniors working for him: me, Lilah, and Lee. We were a team, trying to work together while stealing each other's glory. But we worked well together and got things done

[tm_darla]

Darla is familiar with a part of the story; the one about Lindsey, Angel and Holland. That was what had made Holland Manners such a force to be reckoned with: he knew people. Everyone had offers they couldn't refuse. (For Angel, it had been Connor.) Darla, who when human the first time around had sold herself on a regular basis from a very young age the first time she was human because she had no intention of ending up poor and starving, doesn't see that as something to be ashamed of, but she suspects Lindsey still does.

Which isn't the point right now. What he told her about this Lee Mercer is. "In other words, he died and you got promoted for the same thing, and then you got promoted a couple of times again while he was permanently stuck. Yes, he'd definitely want you to suffer. For all time."

She gets practical.

"If your lack of sensation is due to him, he'll probably know how to end it. Because if he is resurrected as well, he must know that whatever spell causes it could be used against him, too, and he'd want to be prepared if he

[evilhandissue]

Lindsey looked back at her, his eyes narrowed dangerously. She had no idea just what he was capable of these days, after all his training in the magical arts he had gone through. And he had been pretty dangerous before that too. She might have heard stories, though.

He just choose not to let that dark side of him free anymore. But it was there, and surfaced when needed. Like when he had fought against his alternate dimension version of himself. When he had to prove himself to various demon clans on getting his position in Boston secured.

But it was there, under the surface, waiting for a sledgehammer or sword to be put into his hand and then aimed at a target. And now a target had been given.

"No, this is my problem, and I will handle it," he spoke, his voice deep and drawling.

[tm_darla]

Well, well, well now. If she were still a vampire and he was still alive, she'd definitely consider sire him. It would be a wonderful challenge, instead of a game won in advance.

But done was done, and at any rate, it's a good thing to know he hasn't just the imagination but the capacity to deal with the wretch who did this to both of them. Darla puts her hand, the one slightly scarred from her little test of that strange bond between them, on Lindsey's unbeating heart.

"Give him my best, then," she murmurs.