zeegoeshere

Ficbit, Wes/Lilah, post-Not Fade Away. Wes/Fred implied.



Coda

"Wow. I have to admit, I'm a little surprised to see you here so soon." Lilah leans against the doorjamb, radiating smug superiority.

The doorjamb--he's in his office. He's... the last thing he remembers is lying in Fred's arms, bleeding out--

"I remember you being a lot smarter than this," Lilah says, crossing her arms. "Standard Perpetuity Clause, remember?"

Wesley feels ill.

Lilah sighs and tosses her hair back, exposing her neck scarf. It's green, matching the rest of her outfit. Of course. She crosses the room and perches on the edge of his desk, making certain to expose most of her thigh in the process. "Shocked isn't a good look on you. Snap out of it."

"This can't--I *won't* do this." Wesley rises from his chair, his fists clenched at his side. There has to be some way out, some way--

"Mm. I thought you might say that." Lilah reaches out to toy with the collar of his shirt, her thumb brushing his collarbone. "Although I must say, it *wounds* me that you don't want to spend the rest of eternity with me."

His stomach lurches. He should move away from her hand, he should leave her and find her bosses, force them to kill him, give him--something. He should. "Lilah..."

"Aww, you *are* happy to see me after all," Lilah says, glancing pointedly down. He's already growing hard.

He grabs her hand, but doesn't move it. "Is she here?"

"*Christ* but you're a broken record!" Lilah moves until she's kneeling on his desk, her legs spread apart and her skirt riding up. "Burkle's soul was *eaten,* you idiot. It's *gone.* Not even we can trump that."

He tightens his grip on her hand, and she just smiles. "Did you have a hand in what happened to her?"

Her smile gets even wider. "What will you do if I say yes? Chop my head off?"

He feels another wave of nausea and lets go of her hand, stumbling back, but she grabs his shirt and yanks him in again.

"My superiors and I had nothing to do with it," she says, and kisses him hard, licking at his teeth. "Although the demon living in her shell could be *quite* useful--"

"Keep your hands off Illyria." His own voice is a snarl, and Wesley realizes after the fact that his hand is on her leg, squeezing.

The smile she gives him now is entirely genuine, and it makes his knees weak. "I've missed you, you know. There's no one around who attempts to threaten me quite the way you do."

"Lilah..." Every time he says her name, it feels like he's given up something else. "There has to be a way out. For you, as well, you don't deserve--this."

She rolls her eyes. "Haven't we already had this conversation? Of course I do. We both do, stop kidding yourself." Her fingers start unbuttoning his shirt, and she leans in closer. "Now, come on. We don't have a lot of time before I have to bring you to your new boss."

Wesley lets his hand slide underneath her skirt, and leans into her touch.