The Complication Of Memory
Things have gotten complicated. Surprisingly complicated.
And he's glad of it.
"Like this?" Lilah asks, tilting her head coyly. "Or like this?"
Wesley chuckles, messily painting her toenails burgundy while she continues to ride him at a leisurely pace, wiggling her fingers as she arches her back and moans. They've spent fifteen minutes on her toes while she fucks him and asks how she looks in various positions. It is an absolutely normal Saturday afternoon and Wesley might not actually mind admitting he has a girlfriend. Not one this absolutely adorable when she's being teased.
"I think I prefer you like that," Wes says, groaning as she leans down to kiss him. "Or perhaps like this..."
He begins rubbing at her clit, and Lilah wails approval, collapsing against him. "Mmm, that's a winner," she agrees as he flips them over and finishes off efficiently. "Do you think the polish will smudge?"
"To buggery with your nail polish," Wes says, her body ridiculously comfortable as she kisses him on the cheek and wriggles underneath him. "Even though it's all over my bed linens now."
"I'll get you new ones," she promises. "Do you have to work tonight?"
"Madame, I am at your disposal," Wes says, wondering when exactly he'd gotten used to having her about. Worse yet, when the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon with Lilah had become a desirable option.
Lilah smiles up at him, pulling away. "Good," she says. "I'm going to shower."
Before Wesley can protest, Lilah's gone and he stares at the closet, annoyed by how easily she insinuates herself into his life. His bedroom, his shower, his head. Meanwhile, there's a girl in his closet, Angel under the sea, Cordelia somewhere else...and the thing occupying Wesley's mind?
Why Lilah would want to shower when clearly the rest of the afternoon was going to be spent in various sexual acts was beyond him. In fact, it was absolutely incomprehensible except as a petty demonstration of the power she had over...
"I can't quite reach my back," Lilah says, standing naked and dripping wet in the outline of the bathroom. "Come in and help me, Wes."
Or it could simply be that Wesley is too thick to realize "I'm going to shower" is code for, "Wait two minutes and then come and fuck me in the shower as a prelude to an afternoon spent in an alcohol-soaked sexual haze."
She flicks water at him as he walks by. "Next time I'll send out engraved invitations," Lilah teases, swatting him on the arse. "What did you think I was doing in there?"
"I'm not certain, but I sincerely hope you'll let me try it," Wes replies with a dazzling smile. She shrieks with laughter and they don't reach the shower before she tackles him.
It takes him three days to get the bathroom back in order. He grins the entire time he's doing it.
Or he did. When he remembered that he'd done any of it.
"Poor bastard," the technician said, watching the memory. "Would you erase this shit? Even knowing how it ends?"
Mary nodded. "This is a little...not right to be getting rid of, isn't it?" she asked, watching as the British guy and the hottie girlfriend go at it. They're clearly having the time of their life; after the shower, he throws a bathrobe on her and proceeds to get them pizza, wine, and a movie. Of course, they only get about forty-five minutes into the movie before she gives him a blowjob and then he bends her over the kitchen counter and proceeds to give what must have been a number of spine-melting orgasms, but they remain cute even in the constant raunchy sex.
"You're telling me," Stan replied. "It's sketchy. And this guy is having the best memories of his life erased -- or if they're not the best, I don't want to know about it."
"I wonder if she knows," Mary said, looking at the screen. Hottie girlfriend is now naked except for a pair of thin cotton panties. Pink cotton and ridiculously sexy. She's in front of the refrigerator, clearly looking for some kind of food.
"Well, according to this guy's brain, she died. So I think it's a safe bet that she doesn't know," Stan said.
"But wait, I thought she wasn't dead. They were in the file room and all that stuff about love and forgiveness that was the first thing cut," Mary said. "I figured he just had a psychotic break. Cuz hello, vampires? Beheading your dead ex? Unlikely."
"Huh. I don't know," Stan said. "If so, this shit is truly fucked up. And hello again, Miss Morgan and your fine-ass naked body."
Mary thwapped him. "Pervert."
"Not compared to Wes here," Stan said, eyes back on the screen. "Remember, it doesn't matter what we think. It goes. All of it."
Lilah never should have told him that she liked Cat Stevens. Wes is using it as an excuse to play it really loud while she digs through the refrigerator for something edible.
Ooh. The ice cream she brought over two nights ago. Excellent. Maybe there are strawberries. That could be fun.
"Lilah, for heaven's sake, you know there's nothing edible in there," Wesley complains. "What are you doing?"
"We have ice cream," Lilah announces triumphantly, bouncing out of the kitchen to where Wesley is seated in his boxers on the couch. "See? The evil bitch queen delivers! And with style and grace, to boot."
She falls into his lap. They've been drinking champagne -- stolen from a dull Wolfram and Hart soiree Lilah's ditched to come over and taunt him about how big evil is celebrating Angel's absence and Cordelia's apparent death -- and Lilah is supremely bubbly and bitchy.
"So you're evil tonight, are you?" Wesley asks, stealing the ice cream carton despite Lilah's yelp of protest. "And what, pray tell, has the bitch queen of Los Angeles done tonight?"
"I effectively evaded the legal system for three scumbag clients," Lilah says very seriously, taking the carton back, scooping out a bite of chocolate peanut butter chunk ice cream and taking a bite before letting the rest drip down her breasts. "Then I helped a local demon warlord cheat law-abiding citizens out of thirty million dollars so he can have a golf course where a wildlife preserve should be. And then I had Gavin torture homeless people and puppies while I pointed and laughed."
"Puppies?" Wesley asks, licking the ice cream away, taking the carton back, and dripping more of it on various parts of Lilah's body. "Poor, defenseless puppies?"
"Also wholesome blond children," Lilah says, giggling as Wesley's hand pulls at the elastic on her underwear. "I'm a bad, wicked woman, Wes. I think I have to be punished."
"I agree," Wesley says, kissing her feverishly. "This merits at least a spanking. Possibly the handcuffs and torture until you tell me how to find those scumbags."
Lilah's eyes got very round. "Tell you where to find scumbag clients? Mr. Pryce, I'm surprised at you!" she gasped in thoroughly put-on shock. "I'd never do such a thing, not even if you tied me to the bed and..."
Wesley picked Lilah up. "Apparently you're a hard nut to crack," he said as Lilah kicked her legs in a fairly real mock struggle. "We'll see how willing you are to talk after you get the third degree."
Lilah pouted. "At least the fifth degree. I've been really, really bad," she said. "And they were very, very important scumbags."
It's getting harder to zap them. She's in so many of his memories, and they've been getting better and better for a while. Even if they didn't know it, they were happy that summer. Happy and selfish the way lovers are at their best and worst.
"Wow, there are a lot of memories to go," Mary said, trying not to feel guilty. "They must have spent that entire summer fucking, and he remembered all of it pretty clearly. Makes you wonder why he'd want to forget it, even if she did die. Or whatever she did."
"Wouldn't you?" Stan said. "Of course, all it means to us is that we've got tougher jobs because we never know which one of these high-definition beauties has to go next."
"At least he'll never know what he lost," Mary said softly, looking at the screen. "I hope."
"Hey, he wanted it gone," Stan replied. "And snap. There it is. Gone."
The room reeks of sex, unwashed sheets, and closed windows. Wesley doesn't care.
"Get out," he orders, completely satisfied in the encounter.
"No, really?" she snaps. "Gee, Wes, I wanted to hang around and cuddle, but I guess that'd ruin your busy evening of brooding about Angel and Connor and your many, many failures."
"Get out," Wesley replies. "I've got no interest in your nasty innuendoes, which are as obvious as your come-ons and sexual appetites."
Lilah throws the glass of wine on the bedside table in his face. "Go to hell," she growls. "My sexual appetites don't seem to bother you when you're balls deep, asshole."
"You don't charge," Wes says, enjoying the visible rage on Lilah's face as she walks back and sits down on the bed, still quite naked.
"Is that really all, Mr. Pryce?" she asks in that deadly cool voice. "Because honestly, I'll call you a whore right now if that's all you want. I can even make her flat as a twelve-year-old boy and Texan."
"Make the call," he says. "Do you think you matter to me at all?"
Lilah laughs, stretches out like a cat. "I think that you like having someone to remember the bad old days with, Wes," she purrs. "Even if we're on different sides, we know all the same things. And who else is talking to you these days?"
"Get out," Wesley says for a third time.
"And voila! I'm gone," Lilah replies, pulling herself up and then putting an ironic kiss on his forehead. "See you tomorrow, lover."
He closes his eyes and doesn't open them until the door slams shut. If only everything she said wasn't true, if only he wasn't going to see her tomorrow, he could perhaps endure this.
Things are getting complicated.
Mary gulped. "How much longer?"
"Not much longer," Stan said. "It wasn't a very long relationship. A year. Doesn't help that the guy waited six years to have it erased, but what can you do? And it's not like it's his first time. Did you see that shit he did before? Insane."
"I know. But...I wouldn't want to forget this," she said. "Never."
"Yeah, you'd think," Stan said. "But things get complicated."
The dark-haired woman walked into Wesley's bar. "Mind if I join you?" she asked.
"Bye, Lilah," Stan said, waving. "Time to go..."
He pushed a button. She fades away.