Title: Back to Black
Written for whedonland's gift extravaganza.
(post-Not Fade Away)
New York City branch of Wolfram & Hart
Lilah had been expecting the slayer five minutes ago, but maybe, for once, security might be earning its pay check. The sound of her door cracking told her that her last thought was a vain hope. Sighing as she poured two whiskeys, neat, into her third best set of glasses. This could get ugly and she didn't want to risk the crystal-ware. "Faith," she purred as held up the drink in the manner of a toast. "Mind the furniture."
"Where's Angel?" The dark slayer, still leather bound but far less crazy, strode inside with a crossbow in her hand and a knife on her hip.
"In a hell of his own making." Lilah smirked, raising her eyebrows, as she took a sip. "The usual."
"The Apocalypse makeover in LA was his idea? Yeah, okay," Faith finished sarcastically, rolling her eyes, as she raised her crossbow. "What do you know?"
"He played his part well." Lilah shrugged in a movement inspired by a lifetime of watching Katherine Hepburn movies. "He's still there somewhere in the rubble, acting like a hero, at that old hotel. He's probably washing the sulfur off orphan kittens as we speak."
"Oh, that was easy." Faith lowered her weapon, seemingly deflated.
"I always was with you." Lilah tilted her head and looked the slayer up and down, their last meeting had been interesting to say the least, and she couldn't help but remember that wild night in the limo. "Is black still your favorite color, Faith?"