Causatum

Causatum
By Lopaka Tanu

"I wasn't through with you."

I sit in the dark, cold, and sterile smelling hospital room. I wondered if they would show up. Having just left me there, I guess not. Guess this means my contract is not going to be renewed after all. Really, Holland, I can understand why you went through the whole promoting me ruse. I distracted Angel, plain and simple. Now that you have what you wanted, that charade is no longer viable. Quite a genius strategy, something I should have come up with.

I wonder if Lilah came up with the plan, she seemed kind of cocky tonight. Usually she is a little jumpy about these things. Guess this means she got that promotion package. Enjoy it, bitch, your ass is now theirs.

Mine, however...

"I said, I wasn't through with you, yet."

Fucking damn it. Here he is, the cloaked crusader. Oh, and it looks like he brought his little bag of toys too. "So, what else is new?"

"I didn't give you permission to leave the mortuary." Moving in closer, his face is lit up from the lights in the parking lot shining through the blinds. "I wasn't through getting my answers."

"Yeah, well fuck you and the whore you road in on." I won't make this easy for him. If I am going to die, I plan on making a valiant effort of taking his ass with me. Screw the firm and their plans, all of their plotting and scheming will be for nothing. That little thought makes me smile.

"What was in the box, Lindsey?" Tall, dark, and broody is still serious looking as he sets down the bag. It is a leather satchel, like something the old couriers used to carry for important documents. He is no more than three feet from me, watching me from the food table as he fondles the bag. Slowly, without looking at it, he starts to undo the buckles. "I asked you a question."

"Well, I aint answerin it, so go ahead and kill me already."

The buckles are unfastened and he pulls out the belts. "What was in the box?"

Okay, I'll admit, at this point, my mouth is starting to feel dry. He watches as I swallow. "You know I can't tell you."

"Then we have a problem, don't we." And like a flash, he is at my side, holding my good hand, preventing me from pushing the nurse call button.

"What the fuck do you want, Angel? Wasn't my hand payment enough?"

There is a moment as he sighs for dramatic effect. Bastard. "What good is a hand when you don't even have a soul?" As I look away from him, he leans down to whisper into my ear. "I am disappointed in you, Lindsey." Cool breath tickles my cheek, causing goose bumps to flesh out across my neck and shoulders. At this close, I can feel the shift in the room, that sensation of a large, lifeless mass close by as he looms over me.

He moves in to a few centimeters from my skin, causing me to freeze. I won't flinch from him, it is what he wants. I can feel his gaze travel from my ear to my neck, the pulse point betraying my emotions. A small smile graces his lips a moment before he leans down. There is nothing to stop him from killing me right at this juncture. That knowledge does make me flinch from him.

A quick lick of the pulse point, and he stands up once more. "Let me see it."

"What..."

"Your stump."

"Fuck you." Wrong thing to say, as his other hand grabs the sling from around my neck, twisting the sore arm. I scream out in pain as he lifts it up into the dim light, squeezing the arm.

The gauze starts to turn black with blood in the shadows of the room as he brings it to his face. Sniffing it like a wine cork, he smiles, then sticks it in his mouth. Pain is almost unbearable as he yanks off the surgical gauze with his teeth. After spitting it out, he turns back to the stump and
examines what is left of my fore arm. "Nice clean wound, minimal scarring. You should consider yourself fortunate it wasn't worse. Infection could have set in, festered for a while and then gangrene. Nasty stuff, but very effective when it comes to means of interrogation."

He goes on as I watch through teary eyes. I'm not ashamed to admit I cried, it fucking hurt, still does. If I live through this experience, I will make sure he suffers unimaginable hells before he dies. Starting by finishing what that demon shaman started.

"Hey," he says, patting my face with the back of the hand that had just released my stump. "Pay attention. I don't like repeating myself."

"Leave me alone."

"I probably should have, but I believed in you. I believed in you, Lindsey, and you let me down."

"Am I supposed to ask for forgiveness?"

He lets go of my good arm. "If you have to ask that, it is already too late." Backing up, he walks to the table.

"I won't apologize, Angel."

"I'm not asking you to."

"I mean it, I won't say it."

He turns to look at me, his face his usual happy, brooding self. In an upbeat voice, he speaks again. "Good, I wouldn't expect you to."

"Still not going to say, I'm sorry."

"Like I said, good. Because if you did, I would have to kill you for trying something." Coming towards me, he pulls something from the satchel. "And apologizing, that's just not in your nature, Lindsey." I notice a glint of gold and silver a second before he wraps something around my throat.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

He jerks on a chain leading from the collar around my neck, and suddenly I can't breath, much less speak. "It's called a choke collar, Lindsey. Comes in handy when you have a dog that just won't shut up." Patting the collar, he eases up a bit so I can breathe again. "They use them in obedience schools."

I am sure my eyes are bulging as he gleefully looks at the leash. "What the hell..." He jerks on it again.

"You know, this is going to be so much fun." There is a darkness in his eyes as he says it. "You remember what fun is, don't you, Lindsey?"

In hatred, I glare up at him, holding my neck and sputtering for breath. I can only gasp out one word. "Why?"

Then his smile disappears, face contorting in anger. "Because, it is what you wanted. I am just giving you what you wanted. Control." Jerking on the chain again, he pulls me towards his waiting arms. "Time to learn your place, Lindsey."

"Fuck you!"

"Not here." Wrapping his arms around my waist, he lifts me off the bed, and sets me on my feet, the hospital gown flapping open in the back. "First thing, put on your clothes. Can't have you walking around like that." He drags me over to the small closet against the wall, and pulls out my torn, bloody suit. "Put it on," he smirks before handing it to me.

"Make me."

"That's the spirit of it." He jerks the collar tight until I start to see spots from lack of air. "Be a good boy, and do as you are told."

With a shaking hand, I take off the gown and turn away to slip on my boxers. "Modesty, from you?" Ignoring his remarks, I continue to slip them on one handed. "Need a hand?" I pause long enough to flip him off, then continue working them over my feet. It takes a few tries as I am no longer right handed like I was just a few hours ago. "There you go, one leg at a time." As I straighten up, pulling them up my hips, he runs a hand down my back.

"Keep away, fucker!" I'm not stupid enough to jerk away, he still has a death grip on my leash.

"You do seem fond of that word tonight." His fingers travel the same place again. "Scars from a lash, most likely a belt, guess you weren't lying about that. That makes at least one thing."

For some reason that stings. Enough for me to have to bite back on the tears. I won't show him emotions. I spent too long suppressing them, they don't exist anymore. Looking at my other clothes, I beat down the final emotion I ever let myself feel, pride. "I need help with the rest."

I don't look, I know he is smirking at me. "See, it works, you are learning already." He releases the chain, but gives me a look at the gold tint of his eyes to remind me of his speed. Quietly, he takes the pants off the under bar of the plastic hangar. He examines them, checking for tears, creases, and lent before unzipping them. "Size 30, little bigger than I figured for you." One of his goofy half grins, and he bends forward a little, offering me first one leg, then the other. When they are both in, he slides them gently up my legs, mindful of the hair. Once over my hips, he leaves them open.

"Time for the under shirt. A wife beater, Lindsey? Somehow, that seems wrong coming from you." I put up my arms as he holds the shirt for me to slip into it. The white cotton is familiar, protective. I feel more secure with it on. So much so, I get a little bold, grabbing the buckle on my collar as he turns around to get the dress shirt from the hangar. Before I can do anything, he is facing me again, game face ready, and gripping my hand. "Bad, Lindsey, you are going to have to be punished for that."

Next thing I know, there is a two hundred pound plus vampire bending me over. Backwards. He pushes me over the bed, and grabs my left foot. Then runs a cold finger down the sole from toe to heel. I seize, and try to take my foot back. That only serves to incense the crazed vampire and he picks up the speed until I am shrieking and flailing on the bed, laughing. Have I mentioned how much I hate being tickled.

When he is through, I am too weak to protest as he puts on my shirt. "You know, I learned something very important about human feet. When you wear shoes for a long time, especially fancy ones in socks, your feet become very tender. Seems you like your shoes, Lindsey." He tells me in such an obscene way, I feel like taking a long hot shower.

This bastard knows all the tricks in the book, probably added a few chapters in his time as the Scourge of Europe. Suddenly, taking my own life seems like a good idea. How could I have believed he could offer me redemption? This, souled vampire, is nothing but another monster. Angelus, the devil with the face of an Angel.

"What are you thinking?" A quiet, questioning tone. As if he really cares.

"Why don't you just kill me?"

"I told you, because I want to know what was in the box." He finishes the buttons on my shirt, wraps the tie around the collar, but leaves it undone, then puts on my coat. All the while, being careful not to jar the stump any further. How considerate. "Time to shoe the horse."

If he makes a joke about riding me, I think I'll choke myself to death. One foot is stuffed in the black sock, then placed in the black dress shoe. The next one, he wiggles my toes and laughs before putting on the sock. "What is so funny?"

"Just thinking how much fun it would be to hear you squeal. Would you squeal for me, Lindsey?" Sticking the shoe on, he looks up at me expecting an answer. The set of his face as if he had just asked me the time.

"Fuck you."

"You keep offering, and I keep saying maybe later. How is that so hard to understand?" There is no way in hell I am giving him the satisfaction of a response. "Time to tuck you in and zip up." I don't like it, the way he is staring at my crotch, nor that he has to help me zip my own God damned pants. He starts forward, as I back up to the bed. "Come now, Lindsey, don't be shy."

Scooting back, I try going around the bed, but he jerks my leash. The back lash slings me against the wall. It is a few moments before I can breathe again, the lights dancing in my eyes. When I can, I smell that earthy, suet of a hearth. He is leaning over me, bracing me bodily against the wall. One hand on my throat, allowing me barely enough room to swallow as his other hand trails down the button row of my shirt.

"You are making this more difficult than it has to be. Why don't you stop fighting me?" His hand reaches inside the front of my pants, shoving the shirt tails inside. Slowly moving around to the back, tucking the shirt in through the non existent space between my butt and the wall. Leaving his hand there for a minute, he traces lazy circles in the crack between my cheeks. "Did you know the hair down the crack of the ass is almost as sensitive as the skin on the tip of your erection?"

And it is taking all my will power not to react. Not to thrust my hips against his body like a dog in sexual ardor. I will not be turned on by those cold, solid fingers that are slowly spinning their way down my ass. Closing my eyes doesn't help, neither does holding my breath as the air tastes of his musky smell. All I can do is look up at him and glare. Just before he reaches my hole, he pulls his fingers back and straightens my pants up. First he buttons, then zips them quickly. After locking the belt in place, he pats my hardening cock, and smiles.

Backing up, he tilts his head a little and waits for a reaction. He won't get one. We sit there in silence for a few minutes before he sighs and grabs the leash again. "Come along then."

"Where are you taking me?"

"To see the wizard, first we have to pick up a scarecrow, a tin man, and the cowardly lion." He gives the chain a little tug to get me off the wall. "You are going to see the results of your decision."

"Fucking great, the vampire of Christmas past has come to show me the error of my ways. If you expect me to change my ways, you are seriously mistaken."

"Nope," jerks chain, "just figure you should enjoy your handiwork first hand."

"Love the hand jokes, asshole."

He pulls hard on the chain, bringing me flush against his body. His eyes are staring directly into mine, glittering in anger.

"Go on," I gasp, baring my throat, "do it."

"You aren't worthy." He does, however, kiss my neck before pushing me away. "You are very good at that, but I have more control then you realize." With a song in his heart, and hop in his step, he grabs the satchel and pulls me along. Oh, God, he is humming that damn song.

"Do you mind?"

"No, I don't." Then he goes back to singing, off key. Damn him. "...off to see the wizard ... huh hmm hmm hmm hmm..."

"If you are going to torture me, at least be merciful and use hot pokers!" He just starts singing louder. As we walk down the halls of the hospital I notice there is no one about, the lighting is emergency only. "What did you do?"

"Reversal spell, the one you lost your hand for."

Speaking of hand, my ... stump is throbbing like a mother fucker. It is still sore where they used sutures to hold the skin over the wound despite the pain killers. Angel's little suck fest on it didn't help. "Thanks for reminding me, I will make you pay for it later, you bastard."

"Now you know better than that." And I am hoping for air again. Perhaps this is hell after all. As I gasp, he leads me out the entrance and down the parking lot to his car. Which is conveniently parked for that quick getaway. He isn't taking any chances as he sits down in the driver's side and drags me over his lap to deposit me in the passenger seat. "Buckle up, wouldn't want you getting hurt."

Dick head! But I do as told. He starts the engine and pulls out like a bat out of hell. Nice reference because I will probably be there before the night is out. Then we are driving down the streets, wind blowing through our hair, mine flying about, his frozen in place by an industrial toxin of some kind. Good thing he is already dead, there might have been brain damage from all that. That would mean he had one before all this. Right now I am seriously questioning his mental competence. Senility is a really ugly effect of old age.

One hand rests on the wheel, easily controlling the car. The other lays on the back of my seat, wrapped around me like some absurd date from hell. Only difference is he is holding my leash, making sure I don't try to jump out when he stops. I feel like biting him and growling just for the hell of it.

He sees my expression and decides rubbing behind my ear might pacify me. I nip at his fingers to show I will not be treated like a skittish animal. "Hey now, that wasn't very nice." His hand moves down to cup my knee, then squeeze the soft tissue behind it. "You see, I hate making you hurt, but you really leave me no choice. How do you think I felt when I saw you lying there on the floor."

"Exhilaration?"

"No, it hurt. I thought how much I failed you. Then again, it was not my doing, I just reacted to your betrayal." He shakes his head in disappointment. "I was really angry when I came back and you weren't there."

"Well, forgive me for seeking out medical attention instead of bleeding to death. I was kind of groggy at the time and my judgment was impaired."

He ignores the tone of my voice and goes back to stroking my head. "I knew it was that. You are forgiven, Lindsey, just don't make a habit of it."

"You are really a sick, twisted fuck, you know that."

A pinch of my ear, and he looks at me again. "Language, Lindsey." Now he is back to caressing my face. "I was worried, I figured something might have happened to you before I could get back there. But something's just take priority over you. It was all for a good cause, I assure you." His face reveals nothing as we pull over to the curb.

Noting the address, I heave a great sigh. "You know, he did you a favor."

"No one deserves what he did to her!" His eyes flash gold as he looks me up and down. "Well, almost no one." Holding on the leash, he leads me out of the car, and up the walk to the building. I really don't want to be here, I read some case files on her place. Spirits have a tendency to be a little psychotic after a fashion.

Does he care, no. As is evident by the way he uses the choke collar to emphasize his wishes for my compliance. I will not be complacent. Not that it matters as I am strung along for the walk up the stairs and into the building. The door slams shut like the lid on a tomb.

My shrink would have said this was negative thinking. He would have if he hadn't tried to blackmail the firm with my secrets. People. No wonder I decided to become a lawyer.

We are on the green mile, my feet dragging as I don't want to be here. Again, he couldn't care less. Soon enough, he is knocking on the door. There is a sound as something scrapes across the bottom of the door before it opens. A blue haggard eye can be seen through the crack allowed by the security chain. Funny, he is barely over the door knob, I guess it minimizes the chances of being attacked, a little. "Ah, Angel... What is he doing here?"

The real question should be why are you here? This is Cordelia Chase's place, the firm made special note of it as she is the holder of the visions. So what in hell is that stuffy Brit doing here?

"He's with me." Angel holds up the leash, tugging it so I move a little off balance and stumble into him. "He is harmless now, but if he starts to bark again, I have the muzzle in the car."

"Why?"

"I figure he needs a little obedience training. A vet recommended the choke chain. I made the muzzle from the hide of that demon that hurt you and Cordelia."

Now that makes me smile. Gotta love it when your accomplishments are paraded out in front of your victims. Especially people like the former watcher here. The quiet sadness, followed by hurt, betrayal, anger, and finally acceptance. Nothing like seeing your enemy crushed to lift one's spirits.

Of course that joy is short lived as Angel lifts my choke collar and it becomes a noose, pulling me off the floor. So I dangle there, trying to lash out at him like a fish on a hook. He spins me around, displaying my stump to the Brit, and that bastard starts laughing. Fucker knows he has me right where he wants me. That, for all I had, there is nothing that can save me now. And that damn former watcher is lapping it up.

"Ah, I see, then by all means, do come in." There is that scraping sound again, and the door closes. "Cordelia, Angel is here." Followed by the chinking sound of the security chain being unlatched.

"If I let you down, will you play nice with the children?" I glare at him through slitted eyes, unable to do anything but. "I will take that as a yes."

When he sets me to my feet, I fall to my knees choking. I clutch at his pant legs trying to hold on desperately to something. Anything to stop the coughs racking my body.

And that is how they find me as the door opens. Wrapped around Angel's leg, face pressed into his duster, gasping for air. Degrading doesn't cover it.

"What have we here?" Cool, crisp, school prom queen voice. I knew someone like her once, bitch that she was, learned not to talk down to me because I was poor.

"He has come to see what his actions have wrought. Ignore him, if it makes you feel better, kick him." Angel looks down at me, that grin back in place. "I know I will."

"You even try..." His brow scrunches up in amusement, and I am reminded of a cave man. Give him severe body hair and he could be an extra for that cave bear movie. 'Angel want blood. Hoowah! Blood now!'

"Isn't that cute. He is just so smart, sometimes that is." He looks up to Cordelia as he shakes me off his leg. "Like I said," kicks me in the ass making me fall flat out on my face, which makes me choke myself on the damn chain, "kick him if it makes you feel better. Come on, Lindsey, you are making a spectacle of yourself." Nudging me over with his foot, I see him shrug at that bitch.

She is definitely going to die for seeing my humiliation. Either she can read my thoughts, or she just might have a humane bone in her body because she looks upset. "And we trusted you." Or option three, she doesn't have a decent bone in her body, wouldn't even if the Pope slipped her his. Seriously thinking up ways to make her scream before she dies. Maybe a sex slave to a Corathy demon. Spikes on the tip, razor sharp ridges running up and down the shaft. Nah, not enough pain.

I continue to contemplate her demise as Angel leads me by the collar through the door, me on all threes. Inside there is a short hall that exits into the living room/dining area. Now I see what that scraping sound was when the joke of a rogue demon hunter was at the door. Wheels from the crip. is over by the table directly across from the door. Smart move, asshole. Angel walks to the nearest chair and plops down, pulling my head into his lap.

My face is being crushed between his leather clad thighs, and I can't think of a reason why I haven't killed him. I had all those chances, hell, I was in the office with him two weeks ago, stake at the ready. Why did I have to listen to Holland?

"Bad, Lindsey. We don't sniff people there." He pushes me back, and on to the floor next to his chair. "Sit. Sit!" I take the crouching position of a cat ready to pounce. "Good boy." As he turns back to talk to them, I grab his arm, and bite his hand. "Son of a bitch!" He drops the leash.

Suddenly I am off the floor and running for the door. Before I can get it open, he slams me against it, pinning me there by a hand on the center of my back. "Let me the fuck go!"

"Lindsey, Lindsey, Lindsey." He smacks the back of my head as I struggle to get away. "Have you learned nothing?"

"Yeah, you're a bastard."

"My father never denied my parentage, now your father..."

"You leave my past out of this, you son of bitch."

"I wasn't the one who spent ten minutes last week ranting and raving about my poor white trashy roots."

I slam my hand against the door trying to turn around. "You take that back or I swear ta God..."

"Better watch it there, Lindsey, wouldn't want to chance your fate."

He is laughing at me again and nothing will stop me from killing him this time. I look around for something to stake his ass. An umbrella stand over to my right, there is a bat in it. Before I can reach out my hand for it, the damn thing suddenly flies out of my reach. Damn ghost. Your ass will be exercised after I kill your bitch.

"Looking for something, Lindsey?" Great, now wheels is in on the taunting. I look over my shoulder and he has the bat. "Out of the way, Angel, I want to see how he likes being bound to a wheel chair for a while."

"Wesley!" Cordelia shrieks like something just clenched her crotch hairs. "I never knew you were so vindictive."

"It is not something I am proud of, but for this... Lawyer, I am willing to make an exception."

"You should try it out more often, it is kinda hot."

"Really."

"Gods, gag me!" Did I say that out loud?

"Where was I?" Wheels fakes contemplation, something I would be surprised he could actually achieve on a good day. "Oh yes, I was about to break your knee caps."

"I'm shakin in my loafers..." Anything more I had to say was cut off by Angel's hand. I try biting through the cold, dead flesh as he leans against me.

"Damn, Lindsey, I thought you passed the teething stage two decades ago."

Surprising, his blood tastes kinda like old wine vinegar. Spitting it out, I glare from the corner of my eye. Judging the proximity of his head to my own, I make an estimate and act on it. My head slams back into his nose just before he returns the gesture by pushing mine into the door.

"Okay, I think Lindsey want's to go out. I'll see you guys after we are through with our walk." Gripping the choke chain he pulls me from the door, opens it, and shoves me out. "Be good you two. Time to go, Lindsey." He is speaking through gritted teeth as the door shuts. "Why must you act that way? Can't I take you anywhere."

"I'm sorry I can't be your perfect whipping boy." I try to wipe at my bloody nose and lip, but realize that I no longer have a right hand. Also, the stump is bleeding again. And I am with a vampire. Shit.

"Oh, look, now you are bleeding all over the place." Gently, he grabs my arm and brings it to his lips, licking away the blood. "Hold still."

"Like I am going to stand there and let you drain me like a human juice box, I don't think so!" Turning around, I try and swing my other arm at his face. Naturally he ducks out of the way, catching me up in his arms.

Angel pushes me up against the wall, his knee spreading my legs so that he can lean between them. There is very little space between us. Even less so as he bends his head down and licks the blood away from my upper lip. "Mmmm, tangy. You had chinese recently."

"You sick..." Again he is cutting off my words, only this time with his tongue. Cool and wet, he makes me shiver from the temperature difference. His kiss takes away the last of the blood from my mouth before he lets go.

"Within the last twelve hours to be exact." Just as fast as he was on me, he lets go and starts on down the hall. "The night is only half over, and we have yet to visit the past."

"Oh, I can hardly wait, what next, Lilah's for darts, me serving as the board?"

"No, but that is an interesting thought." He thinks on it as we reach the entrance to Cordelia's building. "Neah, her aim is probably terrible, might damage something."

Then we are out into the night again, heading for the hearse he calls a car. Entirely too much room for other people. The back seat is big enough for... Too damn big. Once more it is over his lap as he sits in the car. "This night had better end with you killing me or I will kill you."

"Still with the threats, one would think you had tired of that game already." A shake of the head, and he is starting the engine. "If you enjoyed that little slice of heaven, you are just going to love this next place." He accentuates his words with a hand gesture and a scrunched face. Continuing as we pull out into the night. "I tell you, the ash and soot is just fabulous. Don't mind the smell, fire and brimstone kinda grows on you after a while. You will have lots of neighbors in a warm, climate controlled environment."

"What is with you? You sound like some sadistic real-estate agent."

"Just sadistic?" There is almost actual hurt in his voice. "Damn, I thought I was better than that. Guess those acting lessons from Cordelia aren't paying off."

"Cordelia couldn't act her way out of a wet paper bag."

"That makes absolutely no sense."

"Forgive me, oh mighty master of the snappy comeback." We have a moment of peace. Then he starts laughing. "What is it now?"

"You just don't get it, do you." Statement, not a question. "This all serves a purpose, you just can see the big picture. But you will, very soon, Lindsey, you will."

"I don't like riddles, Angel. If you have a point, make it." Nothing, absofriggenlutely nothing. Just sits there with that damn goofy grin on his face. Like this is all just some game to him. Who knows, my life just might be. He has lived long enough to learn not to care.

Sometimes I can really depress myself. Now is one of them. It doesn't help that he is silent. It gets so bad I consider throwing myself from the car. Opening the handle and just throwing myself out. If he catches the leash as I go it just means it will take a little longer for me to die. So fucking be it.

And God damn it!

As if he read my mind, again, we are pulling over. Directly ahead of us is the old office, his former bat cave. Ah yes, I can see it clearly. He wants me to feel repentant for my actions, to feel sorry that I was part of burning this little vampire from his crypt. Well, it won't happen. I don't feel sorry, not one bit.

"Well, Lindsey, here we are. The proverbial Christmas past. The place where all good little girls and boys go bad." He spreads his arms wide, displaying the burnt out shell of a building in front of us. "You had a second chance to be somebody different."

"You mean a chance to give up all my dreams, to become a nobody once more."

"Yeah, there is that. Damn, the price of goodness really sucks, don't it."

Arching an eyebrow at him, I try not to laugh. "Don't use that word."

"Good?"

"Suck."

"Ah." Next moment I am staring at his game face. "What's the matter, Lindsey, afraid I just might do it?"

"No!" I snort at his curious look. "You are so far beyond cool it is painful."

"Fuck you, Lindsey."

"Oooo, strike a nerve? Gramps feeling his age?" At that I do laugh, because he is shaking his head, every once in a bit, glaring at me.

"No wonder you're evil, too damned annoying to be good."

"Somebody has to be the arch nemesis of the good guy. We can't all be super hero's, Angel."

More quiet contemplation. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of the building, as the wind picks up. He actually sneezes, something I didn't think the undead could do. We look at each other, a long one chalked full of meaning and nuts. Angel is the first to look away.

He starts the car, and pulls away from the curb, still waiting for something. Finally it gets to him and he says something unexpected. "So is that how we are going to be? You playing Professor Moriarty to my Sherlock Holme's?"

"I guess. There doesn't seem to be any other way. You are just too good for my liking. Too many of those pesky morals." And I am shocked at myself, from slamming me against a wall to teasing the prick. How low can you go, limbo boy? Might as well as just jump in the grave. "And it would be more along the lines of Beowulf and Grendel."

"Now, Lindsey, you really shouldn't be so hard on yourself. I mean not all of us can be so gifted in the looks department as me, but don't sell yourself short."

"Fuck you, if any one is Grendel, it is you!" Okay, now we are back to being pissed at each other. I can handle that, it is familiar. "Where are we off to now, the future?"

"Got it in one, I knew you were smart."

"This road will take us down town, the cemetery is the other way."

"One of them." And on that note, we both shut up. I wonder what little deviltry he has planned for me now. We are little less than two hours from sun up. If he plans on killing me, it should prove most interesting. If my instincts and history are anything to go by, he will leave me on the board room table of Wolfram and Hart. I suspect it will not be pleasant, and probably involve more than one means of painful evisceration.

As the minutes roll by in a blur of anticipation I start to believe I am right about my death. Well, it doesn't matter. It's not like it has been a good life. No one will mourn my passing. So finally I have resigned to my fate. All I can say is that I am glad it is him that does it. Feels right that he be the one.

I was so distracted in my thoughts of coming death, that I didn't realize we had arrived until he set a hand on my shoulder. There is a look of regret on his face, but it is resigned to the task ahead. I am ready.

There is no need for the leash, it is merely for display as he leads me past the security desk. The three officers on duty are easily dissuaded from their jobs by unconsciousness. So I punched out one of them, it was good anger management.

"Nice punch, I didn't think that you would be able to there for a minute."

As we walk into the elevator I glare at him once more. This is all surreal. I am shooting up into this building that is to be my final resting place. One last elevator ride, up instead of the down I was taught would happen to people like me. Funny, I never realized how much I hate these mobile coffins. That damned music is enough to drive the sanest man to commit murder. And the claustrophobic space, completely sealed to the outside world. If you were to plummet in this thing, you would probably welcome death if the only other option was to be stuck in this damned musical sarcophagus.

Finally the electronic bell and the doors open. The floor, my floor, the place where my new office was, not the board room. I guess he wants to make a more personal statement. Set the sacrifice upon the altar of his own making. Okay, I can handle that, I only wish I was able to see Lilah's face when she comes into her new office tomorrow and finds my body.

Angel motions for me to lead the way. I do, going slowly taking in the sites one last time. This doesn't feel so much the execution as a release from my burden. An odd calm fills me the moment I see my office doors and I think 'it is almost over' with a sigh. At the doors, he waits for me to open them, his stoic mask still in place. Fine, be that way.

I don't know what I want, perhaps just that it happens fast, and as painless as possible. However, what I got, certainly wasn't what I was expecting.

He grabs my hand, turning me to face him. That sad, regretful expression is back again, in full force. Why must I feel empathy for him, I don't like sympathizing with my killer. One tear, I give him one tear as I look down to our joined hands. Never again will I shed one, not for him, not for me, never.

His hand pulses once, then tightens around mine, bringing me closer to him. I have my left shoulder to his chest as he rests his face in the crook of my neck. That musky, earthy smell is back, only this time less sute, more something I can't identify. Like age, old things dead, but also like green plants. Not quite either.

"I offered you a choice."

"I know." A smile graces my features as I swallow.

"You didn't like my offer."

"I told you, Angel, I was going to be somebody."

"Even at the price of your soul?"

"No price was too great. I wanted what I was given. I earned it."

Angel nods once, then lifts his head. "Now comes the Causatum."

I look into his eyes, that regret stronger now. "What does that mean?"

"Old English." He leans in closer, laying a kiss to my forehead. "For every choice there comes a time to face the consequences and repercussion of that choice. That moment is the Causatum, the facing of one's actions. Usually referenced to the time of one's death judgment."

"And in this our final hour, our time come round at last."

He smiles. "Not word for word, but close enough." His mood sobers once more, as he looks at me. "It is time, Lindsey. Remember, you brought this upon yourself."

At that, I pull away, walking to my desk. Panic fills me, I don't really want to die. Quickly, I search my desk for something that could be used to stop the inevitable. I grab the first weapon like object I spot and turn round ... right into him.

"Don't fight me, Lindsey. You wanted this from the moment we first met." He nuzzles at my cheek, inhaling the scent of my body. "This, all this, doesn't matter. Your choices have reactions. It is those reactions we so desperately seek out in the darkness."

"What are you talking about?" Something in my gut clenches as he moves his face lower. Like some insane slut, I throw my head back, exposing my throat to this killer.

"I too have seen the lure of the darkness. The hold it can have on your soul, the seduction of promised order and power. An end to all your misery." He presses his soft lips to my throat, letting his cool breath flow over my skin. "All it asks is that you just give in."

"Yes."

At that he pulls back, eyes flashing gold. "No!" His hand clenches around mine, taking the metal object from it. "There is a price to pay for it. One I am not so sure you are ready to."

"I already have."

A barking laugh. "You haven't even begun to pay, Lindsey." He holds up the metal object for me to see. "A letter opener, did you figure to kill me with paper cuts?"

"Fuck you!"

"No, Lindsey, fuck you."

My breath hitches as he hits me in the gut. As I bend forward to protect the bruised flesh, he turns me around, slamming me over my desk. "God.... Damn you," I cough out.

A cool whisper as he leans against my ear, over my back. "He already has." Then he is straightening up. "Did you think a letter opener would be able to stop me? Stop fate?" One hand slides down my back tracing the scars I, and now he, know are there. "You should know better than that." His hand doesn't stop at my lower back this time, but continues to travel to cup my ass.

"No."

"I gave you a choice, Lindsey" he near whispers. "I was wrong. You could never change, at least not in such a way." His other hand joins the first in massaging my cheeks. "It was my fault for thinking you could. But I will make that up to you now." I feel something sharp pressing at the fibers of my suit, just above my ass hole. "Time to face those consequences. Time for your Causatum." Then he cuts into my suit, slitting the seams just around the hole.

In a last ditch effort, I sling my good arm around. He catches it, slams it down on the desk, and pins it through the sleeve with the letter opener. "No, Angel, please!"

"Only what you want." There is the ratching sound of a zipper, a second before he grabs my hips. "Only what you need."

A cold, hard object is pressed through the tiny cuts in my clothes and I buck against it. He braces my hips against the desk, presses his cock against my ass, and then pushes in, one solid motion, til his balls slap against the material of my pants. "Oh God," I scream out, clenching my internal muscles and eye lids shut tight.

He hisses at the sudden heat around his cock. "Hot." He shifts a little as I try to un-impale myself. "Tight!"

There is nothing to do, as I flail my arm across the desk knocking things over. As my body adjusts to the intrusion slowly, I can only try and relax my muscles. It isn't long before he is slowly pulling out, and shoving back in. This time, he hits something inside, and I cry out from the sensation. Whatever it is, he hits it again, sending a jolt down the shaft of my own cock.

Angel is grunting and snarling as he savagely pulls out and thrusts in again. Each going deep as the last, hitting the same spot. "Gave. You. A. Choice!" He snarls again as I squeeze around his cock during the last word. "Wrong. Choice." Every word punctuated with another pounding. In, oh God, out. Sliding getting easier as I feel my own blood acting the lubricant.

This is not a good thing.

Like I fucking care, just don't stop.

I've taken to thrusting against him and the desk to keep pace with my own cock. The material of my boxers no doubt becoming sticky with precum. This is good, another thrust in, this is right. He pulls out, this is what, he slams home, what I want. His pace is picking up, becoming more frantic as he nears his climax.

Angel's voice is now an incoherent growling whisper. "Gaverrr. Choi-CE!" His voice hitches as my ass muscles clench around him.

My body is now arching forward into the desk from orgasm. In that moment as I shoot the first load of my orgasm, he pulls me back to him, my collar loosened, his fangs ready. Then he sinks them into my shoulder. I would scream from pain if I wasn't already from cuming. "Angel!" I cry his name again as he slams into me harder than before, his own orgasm filling me. The cool liquid coats me as I feel the reaction of my body to his semen. Three, four, five times he continues to come inside me until the seventh time. Then he releases my shoulder, and we both slump onto the desk.

As we continue to lay there, he laps at the wound.

"Fucking, asshole."

He laughs a little. "Just did, thank you." One more lick, then he starts to nuzzle my neck again. "As I said, I gave you the wrong choice."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You don't want freedom. You don't want out." His lips kiss the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. "It's all about control. You want someone to have it in your life, with you, over you. You don't want a lover, you want a master."

"Bullshit!" I start to struggle again. "Get off me, Angel."

His hands grip my body, forcing me still. "No, I am offering you a new choice, not redemption, for you have to want it before it can be given. You can stay here at Wolfram and Hart, never know what your future holds, probably a most assured and painful end where your soul will end up in a hell dimension for all eternity." Gently, he lets go of me, stroking my sides to calm my aching body from his weight across my back.

"Or you can stay with me. No guarantees on your treatment, but that I most assuredly won't treat you as my equal. You will do as I say, when I say it. Your only purpose is to serve me during the night, and warming my bed during the day. If you are really good, I might even consider siring you." He pats my sore ass. "Either way, you're fucked, your only choice is how."

Snarling at him I throw him off my back, and stand up, jerking my sleeve free of the letter opener. I whirl on him, eyes flashing my violent emotions. "So that is it, serving in hell, or serving in hell with a view?"

He shrugs as he zips the monstrously sized cock back in his pants. "Basically." If I wasn't pissed, I would be in shock that I actually took that thing inside me. As it is, I am ready to burn his ass with the hottest flames of hell.

"What is going on in here? Lindsey?" Holland Manners, that sneaky son of a bitch, just happens in here at the most convenient of times. Must be afraid I am tempted by Angel's offer. "Is there something I should know about?"

I glare at the both of them, Angel in his smug humor, and Holland in his smug ... well smug period.

"Choose, Lindsey." His smirk is almost enough to make me want to tell his sorry ass what was in the box. Just to see the look on his face.

"Fuck you, Angel. Get out of my office!"

He shakes his head a little as he snorts. "Typical. Be seein ya, Holland. Lindsey." A swish of that fucking duster, and he is gone.

"I'll call security, he won't...."

"Let him go." Holland looks at me in shock.

"Are you sure?"

I nod.

"Very well, welcome back, Lindsey. It is good to know where your loyalties lie."

I shake his hand, carefully schooling my face. "Thank you, sir, it is always good to know who I can trust." Definitely not you, you fuck!

"Don't be a stranger. Remember, the senior partners have high hopes for you, my boy, high hopes." One last smile and he lets go of my hand, leaving me alone in my office.

I turn and stare out the window, the cool breath but a memory on my skin as the sun comes up over the horizon. Fuck this, I am tired, today can wait. The rest of my life, however long or short, can wait. I make one last look over my office, then walk out. The journey to the lobby is silent and painful as I ride alone, shifting around my bruised ass hole. Once the elevator doors open, I am swamped by office personnel on their way to work. I don't care as I shove a few of them out of my way. The rest are smart enough to clear a path.

Once outside, I hail a taxi and gently lower myself into the seat. The next forty minutes are spent in uncomfortable shifting as I am sure I leave more than one blood spot on the seat. I will call the office later and have this guy, his cab, and all traces of my circumstances covered up, permanently. But as we pull up to my building, I see him offer me something almost no one in all my life has. A smile, an honest, unattached smile. So may be I won't have him silenced, he won't talk anyway.

The ride in my personal elevator is much the same it was at the office. By the time I reach my floor, my ass is burning so bad I feel like I sat on a nuke. What I need is a nice long hot shower. Something to wash away all traces of my previous day. In the bathroom, I quickly start the shower, warm it by touch and then begin to strip. It takes careful maneuvering to get out of my boxers and pants without giving myself a bikini wax. After I finish removing the last of my clothes, I look in the mirror for the first time.

Something is off.

I can't pinpoint what it is. It isn't the missing hand, though that is still a shocker in and of itself. Nor is it the haggard look, or the day old stubble growth. The marks of passion are only different because of the vampire bite in my shoulder. No, to the left of the bite, something glistening in the light.

He took the chain, but left the collar. Now that I finally get a closer look at it, there is a little dog tag on it with a single word inscription.

Causatum.

Understood, Angel. There are always consequences to every action. I get it loud and clear. Now lets see how you take your own lesson when it comes to bite you on the ass.


The End.