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Choice and Consequences	By : QueenB Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male > Angel(us)/Lindsey > Angel(us)/Lindsey Views: 2642 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 5
But Angel isn’t in his office. After enduring Spike’s annoying presence and snide comments about scenting Doyle on him (and striking back about how “Doyle” had wanted Angel and merely used Spike to get close to him), the brunette vampire decides to cancel the rest of his appointments.
Lindsey had insisted Connor was still in danger. If this is the truth and not a ruse (and he’d smelled how needy Lindsey was when he kissed him), then he can’t afford to ignore this. He goes to the underground garage where all the company cars are parked.
The cars are upscale but low key. They shouldn’t be too out of place in an upper middle class neighborhood like the one where the Reillys live. If he hurries, he can make it there before sundown and track them discreetly from a distance.
__________
Lindsey surveys his rental car. It’s not a great choice but it’s serviceable. He sighs. Between this, his airline tickets and his hotel room, he’s making severe inroads into his meager bank account. He has also avoided using his credit card so far, worried that this will enable certain people at Wolfram & Hart to track him down. Not that he’s averse to having Angel find him; it’s just best to avoid that complication given his current strategy.
But like any other rental car agency, they insist on his ponying up a credit card. So he’s been forced to use it. He just hopes he doesn’t incur any damage to the vehicle while he’s using it. He’s fallen a little behind on his car insurance payments.
He climbs in the Ford Focus and straps on his seatbelt. Hopefully, the Reillys won’t notice him following them in this shitbox car if he’s careful to keep his distance. He checks the meager arsenal he’s managed to sneak past airline security and tools out to the street.
__________
Mr. Reilly peers into the rearview mirror. “Where do you want to eat, Connor?”
The boy in the backseat shrugs. “I don’t care.”
“Are you sure, sweetie? We could go to Benihana’s. That was always your favorite.”
Connor smirks. “Yeah, mom. When I was, like, six.”
“It’s just—we want to do something special, honey.”
“To celebrate the fact that I’m not dead or in a wheelchair paralyzed from the neck down? Sure! Hey, can I have a car?”
“No!” That comes from both his parents.
“Worth a shot.” Connor sags back into his seat. “Then I don’t care about the restaurant. Why are you guys making such a fuss about this anyway?”
“We’re just…” Colleen Reilly trails off and glances beseechingly at her husband.
“The police couldn’t come up with anything about that van. No one got the license plates and no one saw anything of the driver.”
“And the hospital couldn’t find anything wrong with you. Even after all those tests, they didn’t even find internal injuries or brain damage,” Colleen finishes, worry etched in her tone.
Connor sighs. “Look…I know you guys are worried, but…the whole point is I’m okay. I got hit and I’m okay. That should make you happy, not like, you know…mental patients. I mean, it turned out fine.”
Mr. Reilly turns the steering wheel of the SUV as the restaurant comes into view. Not Benihana’s, Connor notes with relief. For some reason, the thought of seeing knives flashing in front of his face makes him nervous and excited in a way he can’t explain. Talking about it to the ‘rents would just freak them out so best not to go there.
Mr. Reilly cranes his neck back towards his indifferent son as he finishes parking the car. He doesn’t notice the GTX or the rented Ford Focus pulling in quietly into the ample lot. “It’s the ‘getting hit’ part. We thought you were dead. And we’re glad you’re not. Don’t get us wrong,” he adds quickly.
“Really, we are,” Mrs. Reilly interjects.
“We just don’t get how that can be, why all this happened in the first place.”
Connor shrugs in the typical teenage way that never fails to irk grownups. “Maybe it was luck or destiny or whatever. Maybe that’s just not the way I was meant to go. Just have some faith in me, all right?”
Rejecting Botox, Laurence Reilly is still a good-looking man, in his prime as his mother often smugly says. They’d make goo goo eyes at each other that had Connor rolling his eyes and his sister Josie making gagging noises. But Connor hopes he grows to be as good looking and big like his dad. Now worried brown eyes peer at him from his father’s handsome face. “Connor…”
Without warning, the back door of the SUV is torn away and a huge monster pulls Connor out of the car, throwing him across the parking lot. Other similar creatures attack the car and Mrs. Reilly screams as clawed hands punch through the windshield and reach towards her.
Mr. Reilly doesn’t understand what’s happening. His first confused thought is that they’ve become the targets of an inner-city gang. But the horrific appearance of these creatures, even in the dark, isn’t something he can dismiss as being of mere criminals. They are wearing strange robes, the gold and black of the collars accentuating the bald, red heads. What is the most terrifying are the twin tusks that curve from their lower jaws, gleaming wetly in the pale glow from the parking lot lights.
But his most pressing concern at the moment is that one of these things is attacking his son. He climbs out of the car and races towards the prone Connor and the snarling beast pummeling him into the tarmac. “Hey! Get off him!”
The monster doesn’t so much as turn. It swings one massive arm backwards, connecting with the charging human. Mr. Reilly catches the blow in the chest and is thrown back to crash into the SUV. He slides down the rear door to crumple onto the tarmac, unmoving.
“DAD!” Seeing his dad injured, unconscious and possibly dead galvanizes the teenager. Connor kicks the demon off him and is stupefied to see it go flying several feet through the air. Racing towards the car, he punches a demon grabbing at his mother. This demon also goes sailing. Connor looks at his hands in shock. “Whoa!”
There is no time for him to dwell on his apparent newfound abilities as Superman. Another demon jumps at him from a nearby car top, punching him and throwing him into another car. Connor cowers on the ground, all thoughts of fighting forgotten, when two men wade into the attacking monsters.
Angel is desperate to save his son, so much so he doesn’t immediately register the other man’s presence. When he senses someone standing too closely behind him, he whirls around, his fist uplifted. His eyes widen. “Lindsey?”
“No time for explanations, Angel. Duck!” The vampire dips his head automatically and Lindsey aims his trank gun at the demon behind the taller brunette. The dart lodges in the demon’s neck and the creature staggers back, its head wobbling as it blinks stupidly. There is no time to reload so Lindsey turns to fight the other demons bare-fisted. Angel doesn’t bother thanking him. He merely nods curtly and then the two men turn back to back.
Angel is the superior fighter with over two centuries of skill and training being brought onto the field as he takes on multiple attackers. The need for the greater strength of a vampire and the enticement of battle cause him to vamp out and the monsters find themselves clashing with the demon behind the human face. There’s severe cracking of bone as the marauders are wounded and dismembered. Two of the monsters depart, howling at the tops of their lungs, clutching bleeding shoulders where their arms used to be.
Lindsey doesn’t have the benefit of Angel’s many years of experience backing him. But when you grew up in Oklahoma poor, disenfranchised and slender of build as he had, you learned how to stick up for yourself or any bully would wipe the floor with you. So years of fighting dirty and learning to beat the odds—plus a little demon strength—come into play as he battles shoulder to shoulder with his former lover.
With his back to the SUV, Mrs. Reilly can’t see the vampire’s altered appearance. But the violence of the fight is enough to make her shrink into the seat. Fears for her son, her injured husband, are momentarily swept away as her mind shies from the reality of the creatures howling and screaming around her.
All but one of the demons has fled and Angel dispatches it by raising it high over his head and slamming its body into the ground. The battle has taken mere minutes but it seems much longer than that to the combatants. Angel and Lindsey look at each other, the human panting from the exertion of the skirmish. Lindsey smiles faintly as Angel clasps his shoulder in a wordless show of gratitude.
Angel lets his game face fade away. He looks at the Reillys uncertainly, knowing that explanations are due and not sure how to go about them. Connor gets to his feet, shock having pinned him to the ground as effectively as the demon did earlier. “Oh, my God!”
Angel starts towards him. “Connor, listen to me—”
“You almost broke that guy in half!” A wide, admiring grin spreads over his face. “That was awesome!”
__________
The ride back to Wolfram & Hart had been strained, to say the least. Most of the questions had revolved around Mrs. Reilly’s concern over her still-unconscious husband. Angel had assured her the man wasn’t bleeding internally although she’d demanded to know how he was so certain. He’d assured her all her questions would be answered after they got her husband into Wolfram & Hart’s medical facility.
The operating table used to be located in the laboratory along with all the other scientific equipment. But Fred had decided long ago that it might make patients more comfortable to be operated on without so much queer and dangerous-looking equipment near them. So Mr. Reilly is taken to a separate room and the others wait in the lab for the news.
Mrs. Reilly shifts on the tall stool she’s perched upon and clutches her cup. She’s been treated for the minor cuts she suffered when the glass from the windshield had broken under the demon attack. Now she desperately wants to distract herself from the thought of what might be happening to her husband. She finds a more than absorbing subject in Lindsey McDonald. The blue-eyed Southerner learning against a table notices her look. “What is it, ma’am?”
She blinks when she realizes she’s staring and then smiles apologetically. “It’s just… I noticed it before when you were carrying my husband but I was too busy worrying about Larry to say anything. It’s strange but you look so much like my Connor.”
Lindsey’s features melt into a shy smile. “Really? T-that’s very flattering, Mrs. Reilly.”
She shakes her head. “No, I mean it. The resemblance is uncanny.”
Connor looks up when he hears that. His mother has been speaking in a low murmur but he’s able to hear her clearly. He’s always been able to pick up on the slightest whisper anywhere in his home. He’d often wondered about that but hadn’t let it bother him until the incident with the van. Now he’s glad he never said anything as he thinks about these bizarre new people in his life and the notion that he might not be quite human.
He putters idly around the R&D lab, curious about all the weird stuff. “Don’t touch that,” Fred cautions when he picks up a silvery globe.
“Why? What does it do?”
“It releases a vapor cloud that melts skin on contact.”
“Oh.” Connor gingerly sets the orb back on the table from which he’d plucked it. “You, uh, invent any of this stuff?”
“A few things. But I’m more of an ideas person. The real inventor is Knox. He’s the manager of the R&D department. Maybe you’ll meet him. I’m actually the head of the Science wing here at Wolfram & Hart.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m pretty smart, too,” Connor boasts. “I’m in the top ten percentile at my college.”
Angel notices the exchange. Is his son actually flirting with Fred? She’s a bit old for him. Then again, the Connor he remembers had no problem with older women. “They were supposed to fix that,” he mutters.
Fred turns back to Wesley, their attentions equally torn between the bewildered Mrs. Reilly and the vampire hovering near his former nemesis. After seeking for him in his office in vain, they had tried contacting him by cell only to find it in the closet ringing in the pocket of one of his spare coats. Angel had forgotten it as usual. Wesley had confiscated it and tossed it to the vampire when he re-emerged. “Try to remember these things do no good if you don’t take them with you,” had been his only comment.
Now Wesley has another bone to pick. “Angel, I’m trying to exercise patience here. But you haven’t explained to my satisfaction what Mr. McDonald is doing on our premises.”
“He’s with me, Wesley. He and I tackled a bunch of demons earlier that were attacking the Reillys here. He came back on the ride with me.”
“Yes, I can see that. What I want to know is why he is here when he’s clearly uninjured and he could have returned to—wherever he’s staying.” It’s clear to the listeners that Lindsey could be lodging in Hell for all Wesley cares.
Angel glances at the ex-Watcher sternly. “Wesley, I know we have bad history with Lindsey—”
“Which is like saying the Jews have a bad history with the Third Reich,” Wesley remarks with curtness.
“But he has visions now from the Powers That Be. He knew about the attack on the Reillys before it would happen and he came with me in order to stop it. He’s working on our side now.” This isn’t strictly true but Wesley doesn’t need to know everything.
“Really?” Wesley gazes at the other man, a look that Lindsey returns steadily.
“Yeah, really. Guess I had an epiphany.” The memory of what he’d once said to Lindsey earns him a sharp look from the vampire. That meeting had not gone well, with Lindsey taking a sledgehammer to him just before Angel wrested it from him and smashed his fake hand with the mallet. But Lindsey’s return glance is tender and without recrimination. Is he really so forgiving or is something else going on?
Wesley isn’t so easily placated. “How nice for you, Mr. McDonald,” he replies acridly.
“And it is Mr. McDonald now. Not Laurence Reilly?” Fred adds with a false sweetness.
Her accusation is met with a lazy southern smile. “To be truthful, darling, I never said I was Mr. Reilly. You just assumed it.”
“Watch whom you’re calling darling,” Wesley grumbles. Lindsey’s eyes flicker between the former Pylean captive and the ex-Watcher. Is there something going on there?
Wesley is quite different from the man Lindsey remembers. That man had always exuded the smug competence of the scholar. But there was quite a bit of uncertainty mixed up with that too and he’d come off as seeming rather ineffectual compared to Angel’s tough stoicism and Cordelia’s brash self-confidence. Somehow the years have tempered Wesley, burnished him into a cold, hard man of iron will and unshakeable nerve. He does not look like someone to be messed with. Lindsey feels a stab of envy that this man got to work with the vampire every day.
Wesley either didn’t notice or didn’t care about Lindsey’s silent admiration. He isn’t going to let him off so easily. “Angel, we have proof that Lindsey has been contacting one of our seers, a Francis Gumm. He’s been giving Mr. Gumm his visions in exchange for information about you.”
“He has?” Angel eyes Lindsey who suddenly looks very nervous. “Why?”
“Look, Angel. I knew you might trust me…”
Wesley interrupts. “Why would you assume Angel would trust you?”
“Because we came to an understanding the last time I was in L.A.”
Wesley’s eyes narrow as his voice lowers. It is speculative and more unfriendly than ever if possible. “And when would that be? Fairly recently, I take it?”
Lindsey’s mouth clamps shut. He’d assumed Angel had told them about his meeting with him. Oh, he hadn’t expected the vampire to get into the gritty details of the hot sex. But surely he would have mentioned something about finding out Spike’s seer was an old enemy turned friend.
But the probing look in Wesley’s eyes and the furtive guilt in Angel’s hold the answer. Angel hasn’t told them. That’s why he hasn’t called. His meeting with Lindsey is nothing more than his dirty little secret…which the ex-lawyer has just given away.
Fred and Mrs. Reilly have gathered close. They all are curious about this new mystery and Lindsey is suddenly weary. The adrenalin rush from the battle has left him and it hurts inside from knowing Angel is desperate to keep him out of his life.
Lindsey wants nothing more than to get through this night and deal with the current crisis. He doesn’t want to get into the deal with Spike and Angel any more than Angel does. But Wesley isn’t about to let this go and, if he’s going to continue working with Angel’s team at least temporarily, he has to offer something to ease the ex-Watcher’s distrust.
“I was in L.A. a few weeks ago…”
“Lindsey, this isn’t important,” Angel warns.
“Let the man finish, Angel,” Wesley snaps, the authority and hostility in his voice surprising to Lindsey. Guess there’s been something of a power struggle going on he didn’t know about.
“Angel, he’s right. Wesley has to understand if he’s going to trust me.” He turns back to Wesley. “Like Angel says, this really isn’t all that big a deal given what else is going on. But I was in Los Angeles a short while back. I got visions about a psychotic Slayer and came here to give them to Spike. I thought Angel might be twitchy about knowing I was around so I avoided him. He found out I was here anyway and came to have a talk with me. That’s all.” Lindsey shrugs. “Then I left.”
“That makes no sense.” Wesley rounds on Angel. “Lindsey McDonald, a man so devious and dangerous he nearly left Cordelia in a coma, shows up in Los Angeles and you don’t mention him at all? He claims to be a seer for Spike but he just abandons his duty to him and leaves?”
“Lindsey was in town for so short a time I didn’t think it worth mentioning. And when Spike came to work for us, he acquired all the benefits of working at W&H so he didn’t need an extra seer. So Lindsey left again. It was a very short episode, Wesley; why bring it up?”
Wesley’s jaw muscle clenches. “Because I don’t like it when you keep secrets, Angel. We’re your team; you’re supposed to share things as significant as old enemies coming back into town.”
At the mention of secrets, an angry light flares in the vampire’s eyes. It’s gone so quickly Lindsey wonders if he imagined it. “It was my call to make and I made it. Lindsey is no danger. I trust him.”
Lindsey feels something loosen in his chest at this statement. But he says nothing more than, “I know you trusted me, Angel. But that doesn’t mean your people would. So I filtered my visions through Francis Gumm.”
“And why’d you do that?” Fred asks. “Why not tell Angel?”
“What did it matter how you got the visions? They were still valid, weren’t they?” Lindsey demands.
“Funny. That’s what Francis said,” Fred remarks. “That doesn’t explain why you’d hide behind a second-rate seer and not let Angel in on it.”
“I didn’t want you people getting suspicious of Angel. If I gave my visions directly to him instead of through an intermediary, how soon would it have been before you people were tipped off that something wasn’t right? So that meant keeping Angel in the dark, too, just to be sure he acted normally.”
“Define ‘normal’ behavior for Angel,” Wesley murmurs. The vampire’s slightly hostile expression leaves him unmoved.
Connor has gotten bored with looking at test tubes and gadgets he doesn’t understand. The drama is kinda uninteresting, too, full as it is of a backstory he knows nothing about. He decides to change the subject. “So, seriously, guys. That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Angel says, “Well, it’s—” He pauses and smiles bashfully. “It’s not a big deal. I mean, I do stuff like that a lot. We all do,” he adds.
Mrs. Reilly is sitting in a chair, nursing her third cup of tea. Normally, she prefers coffee but that nice British gentleman had insisted it would calm her nerves. It is helping a little in that department. The shakes she’d felt on the drive to this odd place have lessened quite a bit. Now she raises her head sharply. “You ALL do this sort of thing? What is it you do here, exactly?”
“Well, we sorta fight against the forces of darkness,” Fred pipes up. “Evil sorcerers, monsters, spooks, zombies…”
“Leanne sidhes, succubi, trolls, malevolent spirits of all varieties,” Wesley continues.
“And, of course, the occasional demon,” Angel concludes.
“That’s ridiculous,” Mrs. Reilly says flatly.
“Mom…”
“Connor, you can’t believe anything these people tell you. They’re obviously insane,” Mrs. Reilly grinds out.
“Mom, how do you explain what happened in the parking lot tonight? You saw those things; they weren’t human. And dad’s in another room getting patched up by a big guy with claws.” Connor turns to Angel. “You’re not human either, are you? I saw your face when you were fighting. What are you, dude?”
“I’m, I’m…” He shrugs helplessly. “I’m a vampire.”
Mrs. Reilly sets down her teacup with a decided clink. “That’s it. Connor, we’re getting out of here and going home.”
“In what wheels, Mom? The SUV is missing a door and we came here in some other guy’s car.” Connor immediately protests.
“So? We’ll call a cab.” Colleen Reilly pulls out her cell phone even as she strides towards the door. She bumps into Angel and looks up in bewilderment at the man standing in front of her. Hadn’t he been standing across the room? “How did you—?”
“Mrs. Reilly, there’s only one way of proving we’re telling the truth.” Without further warning, Angel’s face shifts into its demonic visage. The facial ridges bulge from his forehead while his eyes gleam a pale yellow in the fluorescent lights from the laboratory ceiling. His upper lip curls back, bearing the sharp fangs.
Mrs. Reilly screams. The cell phone drops out of her nerveless grip and Angel swoops down and effortlessly catches it before it can hit the floor and offers it back to the terrified woman.
Connor catches his mother when she staggers and glares at Angel. “You asshole! You didn’t have to do that! Hasn’t she been through enough for one night?” He glances down at the trembling woman in his arms. “Mom, are you all right?”
“C-Connor. Oh my God.” She shrinks from Angel, her features drawn in haggard lines as her mouth stretches open in a soundless scream.
Angel’s face has reverted to its human mask with sorrow and resignation stamped on his features. It is too much to count on gratitude; Mrs. Connor’s reaction is to be expected. But even after all this time, it still wounds. However, it doesn’t escape his notice that Connor doesn’t appear to be the least bit disturbed by it. Guess that was something else about him that didn’t change…
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Connor. But it’s the only way to make you understand what I am, what we do here. We fight the darkness as Fred says because we’re intimately connected to it. And I, more than anyone here, understand exactly what we’re up against.”
Connor has seated his mother on the chair she’d abandoned. He looks up at Angel. “So…what am I? The way I punched that thing across the parking lot, my getting up after that attack from that van…that can’t be normal human behavior. Am I some kind of demon, too?”
“No!” The denial comes from Angel and Lindsey. Angel continues, “You’re not a demon, Connor. You’re just—special.” He’s keenly aware of Wesley, Fred and Lindsey listening to his every word.
“Special as in talented and gifted or special as in crippled and mentally retarded?”
“Connor, that’s not exactly P.C.,” his mother chides. “Your father and I taught you better than that.”
“Well, excuse me if I’m not in the mood to get all prissy mouthed about the mentally challenged. If I’m not a demon, then what am I? Some sort of superhero?”
“That’s what we’d like to know,” Wesley murmurs. He ignores Angel’s tight-lipped glare.
“You’re not a superhero, Connor,” Angel says. “Best we can tell, you’re a healthy, well-adjusted kid with, uh…enhanced abilities.” He allowed the scientists to take tests of Connor since he knows they’ll find nothing different than the doctors did when Connor was born.
“Huh.” Connor mulls over the lukewarm explanation. Then he shrugs. “Okay.”
“Okay? You’re taking this rather well,” Angel probes. It’s true; the boy doesn’t look particularly upset.
His mother on the other hand is more than a little uncertain. “You’re sure that’s it? That van and now those d-demons.” She stumbles a little on the word. “They were after my son, weren’t they? It’s like they were targeting him for some reason. Why would they do that if he was just an ordinary human being?”
“Maybe they think I’m kind of superhuman enemy and they have to kill me before I can go after them.” Connor grins as if the idea is neat. Angel’s mouth tightens slightly, a look that only Lindsey sees.
The former attorney stands up. “Angel, if you don’t mind and if Wesley trusts me to be on my own, I think I’d like to go to the bathroom.”
Wesley looks coolly at Angel. “Why concern yourself with my feelings? He’s the boss. Lately he doesn’t seem to care what any of us think.”
Angel heaves an unnecessary sigh. “If it’ll make you feel better, Wesley, I’ll go with Lindsey. If he tries anything…”
“You’ll kill him?” Connor asks.
Lindsey snorts under his breath and then adopts an innocent expression when the others stare at him. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, kid.” He gets up and the vampire follows him.
Lindsey walks in silence for several moments before he talks. “Okay, Angel. What’s really going on here?”
“What do you mean, Lindsey?”
“You know what I mean!” Lindsey hisses. “First, you decide to ignore my visions about Connor. Then I catch you shadowing the Reillys. And you know exactly what Connor is. Don’t deny it,” he warns when Angel begins to speak.
“It’s like I told the others, Lindsey. Connor is just an ordinary kid with enhanced abilities.” The vampire’s voice is neutral, his face giving away nothing. The stoicism is back and Lindsey hates seeing it.
“Then who is he really? He’s not their son, is he?”
“Why on earth would you think that? Of course he’s their son. Whose else would he be?”
“Darla’s.” Lindsey rejected that answer earlier. Reason tells him it can’t be true; vampires can’t have children. But his instincts have been crying out differently ever since he met the boy personally. Face to face, there is no denying the resemblance to Darla. He’s taking a chance that his hunch is right.
Angel remains impassive. Lindsey can’t detect anything in his face or manner that confirms or denies his suspicion. “Lindsey, that is the craziest thing you’ve ever said. Darla is a vampire. We can’t have children. Besides, she hasn’t been seen around here since 2001.”
But Angel wonders. How much of past events does Lindsey remember? Sometimes he’s not entirely sure how much of the past has been removed from his friends’s minds. He and Lindsey haven’t exactly done a lot of reminiscing. Does he remember that Darla slept with Angel, driving Lindsey to attack Angel with a really big hammer?
Lindsey doesn’t notice his absorption. “Angel, you forget. I’m not just an ex-attorney. I used to work for Wolfram & Hart. I bullshitted with the best. So don’t even try to lie to me.” He pauses around another corner and listens intently. “Are we alone?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I wouldn’t put it past Wesley to come after us. He doesn’t trust me.”
“Naturally,” was the dry response.
“And he doesn’t trust you,” Lindsey adds bluntly.
Angel grits his teeth. “Wesley trusts me. He’s part of my team. In any case, that’s not your concern, Lindsey.”
“Maybe not. But it should be yours. He’s got a right to be worried. You know something he doesn’t and it’s all wrapped up with Connor and those demon attacks. You see, I recognized the demons that went after the Reillys tonight.” Lindsey leans back against the wall and waits for Angel’s reaction.
Angel watches Lindsey. He recognizes that look. This isn’t just his former sex partner he’s facing. This is the Lindsey McDonald of previous years, the one who was the instigator and instrument of many of his tribulations with the former evil of Wolfram & Hart. Lindsey is about to suggest a bargain and Angel thinks he knows what it is.
“Don’t tell me. You’ll tell me if I agree to let you know what’s going on. But you forget, Lindsey. I’m in charge of Wolfram & Hart now. We’ve got an enormous facility at our beck and call. Finding out what those demons were and who they’re working for shouldn’t take us more than a few minutes.”
Lindsey doesn’t flinch. “I know that, Angel. But I’m thinking there’s something you don’t want your people to know. You see, I’m pretty sure that Connor is Darla’s kid. Somehow she had a child. And I guess that if you couldn’t save her, you could at least save her kid. So you had Cyvus Vail come in and do a little of his quality work for you.”
Angel blinks. “Cyvus who?”
Lindsey stares at him. “You don’t know who he is, do you?”
“Never heard of him.”
Damn, that changed everything. Lindsey is baffled and a little ashamed of his earlier mistrust. He’d been on the point of thinking no better of Angel than Wesley does. He looks up to see Angel staring, those eyes boring into his skull. “Don’t worry, Angel. I’m not about to keep you on the hook about him. It’s just—”
He begins to pace up and down the hallway, agitation peeling off him in waves. “I want to get to the bottom of this. It’s obvious I know some things you don’t and you know some things I don’t. Instead of butting heads with me like you’re doing with the rest of your team, why don’t we just pool our resources on this one?” His glance is pleading. “You see, I’m pretty sure Connor is my kid, too.”
Angel’s returning look is eloquent in its disbelief. Then he smirks at the ex-lawyer. “Uh, no, Lindsey. Pretty sure he’s not. The files we’ve got are pretty thorough and they all say Connor is the Reillys’ son.”
“I know! It sounds impossible! But hear me out.” Lindsey steps into Angel’s space, his whole soul bent on making Angel believe. “Those were Kith’harn demons we fought tonight. In L.A., they’re the hired help of one magician called Cyvus Vail. Vail used to do work for Wolfram & Hart. I never met him personally but, back when I worked here, everybody swore by his work. He’s a powerful sorcerer who specializes in memory alteration, reality and temporal shifts and he’s the best there is.
“When we couldn’t get to an opposing witness with bribery or murder attempts, we’d call in Cyvus Vail. A little selective memory tweaking and suddenly the witness couldn’t remember a darn thing about what happened on ‘the night in question.’ He was brilliant at it and the altered thoughts were seamless in quality. No one affected could ever recall the erased memories—only the new ones.”
Angel makes an impatient gesture, stepping away from Lindsey. “Look, Lindsey, I can see where you’re going with—”
“Angel, Connor is my son! Fred told me in the hallway that I look like him, so much she actually thought I was his father. And just now Mrs. Reilly said the same thing. Somehow, Darla and I fucked each other and she gave birth to Connor.”
Angel shakes his head again. “That’s not possible, Lindsey. If you’d slept with Darla, I would have smelled you on her.” He taps his nose for emphasis.
Lindsey ducks his head, looking sheepish and stubborn. “Well, it was only the one time when she was still human. And she ran home and washed herself off afterwards. When I got home, she was still in the shower. She must have been running it for hours. I doubt you could have smelled anything after that.”
The vampire stares at him, uncertain how he should take this. He had never loved Darla so he wasn’t exactly jealous that she might have slept with another man. But it couldn’t have happened—could it? Darla had never mentioned it. Then again, her feelings for Lindsey ranged from indifference to boredom. Whatever Lindsey might have felt for her was never reciprocated.
He sighs needlessly. “Lindsey, even if you did sleep with Darla, she became a vampire soon after that. Any life inside her would have died the instant she did. So what makes you think Connor could be yours or hers? And why would Wolfram & Hart get this Vail character to make Connor think he’s human?”
“Think about it, Angel. What better way to rope you into doing their dirty work than to have Connor born from Darla and placed with a human family that can’t protect him? Then he gets into danger and you have to give up something precious—like your soul—in order to save him? And they manage to keep me from finding out to make certain I don’t show and foul everything up by telling you Connor is my son and risk losing your loyalty.”
Angel raises an eyebrow. “That’s a kinda complicated plan, isn’t it, Lindsey? I mean, I’m already working for Wolfram & Hart. Why go to all that trouble when they’ve already got me right where they want?”
“I don’t know. Not being in the loop here means I don’t have access to the Senior Partners or their plans any longer. But, trust me, Angel. If Vail is involved, then so is Wolfram & Hart. That means your people will be dragged into this. Perhaps they’ll be in danger next. Do you really want them getting hurt over this?”
“Lindsey, the only reason we were called into this mess is because you got a vision and sent it to this Gumm guy who gave it to me. Why would the Powers give you a vision that’s meant to place my people in danger?”
Lindsey grimaces. “You forget, Angel. My visions aren’t sent to me; I bought them. They might do good on the whole. Then again, they might be as tainted with evil intent as anything involved with Wolfram & Hart.”
Angel shakes his head. “Lindsey, I appreciate your trying to help and your theory sounds plausible. But it’s not possible that Connor is yours.”
“Why are you so certain?”
“Come on! You knew Darla less than two years ago! Don’t you think this Connor is a little old to fit the bill?”
“I know!” Lindsey exclaims, throwing up his hands. “Every bit of reason tells me he can’t be mine. But you can’t deny the resemblance. And as for him being older than he should be—well, we’ve both seen some pretty freaky shit, Angel. If this Vail is involved, then a temporal shift making this kid older isn’t beyond the realm of possibility.”
Lindsey stops pacing and eyes Angel. “You know deep down he’s Darla’s son. You haven’t admitted to that but you know it’s true. You must have seen her. What did she say?”
“I haven’t seen Darla since I locked her in that room and she made you into her own personal chew toy.” Angel is being deliberately callous. But the vampire’s gaze is steady and Lindsey wants to believe him.
The ex-lawyer rubs his lip, his mind churning over the possibilities. “Then maybe your people’s memories weren’t the only ones affected.”
“Lindsey, you’re grasping at straws here. Just forget about this.”
“No, definitely not interested in forgetting. Maybe Vail did a collective job on you, Darla, possibly your friends, too.”
“Is this Vail able to affect vampires, Lindsey? Because we’re a whole different breed of animal,” Angel returns.
“He’s been known to affect demons, too, though he usually stays away from them as targets because they’re liable to get upset if they find their memories have been altered,” Lindsey reluctantly concedes. “And you don’t want to mess with angry demons even if you are as well protected as Cyvus.”
“Then if he did such a bang-up job of altering thoughts, why risk blowing it by sending his henchmen after Connor? That makes no sense!” Angel retorts, glad to poke a hole in Lindsey’s logic.
Lindsey wavers and then shrugs. “I’ve no clue, Angel. But I’m telling you, if Kith’harn assassins are involved, there’s only one local sorcerer who could be responsible.”
Angel stands indecisively for a moment. Then his head whips around to stare down the hallway. His attitude reminds Lindsey of nothing so much as a bird hunting pointer that’s found the scent. “Angel? What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” he murmurs. He glides down the hallway on soundless feet and peers around a corner. When he pulls back, he’s frowning. “Thought I heard something.” He shakes his head and pulls out his cell phone.
“What are you doing?”
Angel holds up the cell and speaks to the person on the other end of the line. “Wesley, I’m going to be gone for a while checking out a lead. I’ll be back soon.” There is a brief pause as the man at the other end makes what are likely strenuous objections. Angel listens stoically before saying, “Look, I know you’re having trouble with my behavior lately regarding this case. But you’re going to have to trust that I know what I’m doing.” He flips the cell shut before the other man can answer and strides down the hallway. Lindsey runs after him, struggling to catch up.
Angel growls at him. “Lindsey, stay put. You’re not coming along on this one.”
“I know. I just thought you should get the address so you know where you’re going.”
The vampire is momentarily abashed. “I was going to ask you that,” Angel mutters.
Lindsey grins to himself but accepts Angel’s explanation. He pulls out his pad and scribbles the address along with traveling directions. “Look, if you’re going after Cyvus, you should know he’s got more than the normal complement of demons. You should seriously consider bringing in your team on this.”
“If he’s got more than those Kith’harn demons, then I don’t want my team anywhere near them. What else can you tell me about this Vail character?”
Lindsey shrugs. “Not a lot. He was a recluse. Like I said, I never met him. Frankly, I can’t recall anybody who’s ever met him. Maybe he just erased people’s memories of him and periodically cleaned out Wolfram & Hart’s files so no one would remember him. All we have is a slim file describing his abilities, work he’s done for us in the past and a phone number to contact him when we need his services. That’s about it.”
Angel is obviously dissatisfied on having so little to go on. He hits the button on the elevator and sticks his hands in his pockets, his whole attitude tense and closed off. Lindsey can practically see the muscles between his shoulderblades twitching. “So you’re going after him solo? Not the best idea but then you’re the boss.”
The vampire glances at him. “Lindsey?” The single syllable holds surprise and more than a hint of mistrust. “You meant it, didn’t you? You’re not coming with me.” When Lindsey doesn’t answer, Angel’s hand shoots out, grabbing him by the arm. “Lindsey, you’re not going to use this as an opportunity to put stupid ideas in Connor’s head.”
“I won’t, Angel. I think I’ll wait for the results of the DNA testing.” Lindsey’s look is remarkably calm in the face of Angel’s sudden anger.
“The what?!?” Angel’s grip tightens but Lindsey steels himself against the growing pain of bones grinding together in his arm.
“When the scientists were testing Connor and taking blood samples, I had them take some of mine. It shouldn’t take too long for them to make comparisons and come up with an answer.”
“Dammit, Lindsey.” The elevator has come to rest but the vampire takes no notice.
“I want to know, Angel. One way or the other.”
Angel drops his arm, baited rage and frustration flickering in his eyes. “And, if by some senseless freak of chance, you are Connor’s father, what are you going to do with that knowledge? Are you going to tell him?”
For the first time, Lindsey looks a little uncertain. “I-I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“Then I suggest you do think about it, Lindsey. He’s got a picture perfect life—”
Lindsey snorts in derision. “Of course he does! It was manufactured that way!”
“Not as far as he’s concerned,” Angel returns. “And, if you shatter that life for him, what exactly are you offering in return? In your version of events, he’ll be the bastard son of a vampire and the ex-lawyer who robbed his mother of her humanity. Is that what you want to give him?”
The two men stare at each other before the human drops his eyes. “I don’t know,” Lindsey mutters. “Like I said, I haven’t gotten that far ahead. I just want to know first. I’ll think about what to tell him after I find out for sure.”
Angel shakes his head and jabs the elevator button again. “Lindsey, remember, no matter what the doctors find out, this Cyvus Vail may hold part of the puzzle. So don’t do anything until I get back. And Lindsey?”
“Yeah, Angel?”
Angel glances towards the floor for a moment. Then brown-black eyes look up to hold blue ones. “Take care of him—all of them.”
There is more than ordinary concern for an innocent here and Lindsey wonders once again just what secret Angel is hiding. Maybe he also believes Connor is Darla’s child. “Relax. Connor’ll be okay. He’s in the bowels of Wolfram & Hart. He’s safe as a baby in his mo—” Angel shoots him a look. “Right. Bad simile. But no one can get to him here.”
“May I remind you of all the times me and my people managed to get past the security in this place? This Cyvus Vail might decide to get clever next time and send ordinary-looking human assassins after the Reillys before I get to him. I’m trusting you to stay here and look out for them all.”
Lindsey immediately protests. “Wesley and Fred—”
“—Are good people. But they don’t have demon strength.”
“What about that Gunn guy and Spike?”
Angel’s eyes flare when the other vampire’s name is mentioned. “Gunn is taking the night off. I think he may be seeing somebody. In any case, it might be too late to get him back here in time. And I don’t trust Spike to take care of Connor. Not like I trust you.” Angel steps closer to Lindsey and rests one large hand on his shoulder. “You think you’re his father? Then act like it.”
Lindsey knows manipulation when he hears it. Yet Angel makes a valid point. Still, now that he’s been accepted, he hovers indecisively when Angel gets on the elevator. “I’ll stay. But your crew won’t be happy about it.” He thinks of something else. “By the way, what do I tell Connor to keep him here?”
Angel smirks at him just as the doors start to close. “Tell him you’re going to show him a few fighting moves.”

TBC
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Choice and Consequences