The Bar

Author: Spirit

Pairing: Lindsey/Kate

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Before all the madness of Angel, Kate and Lindsey meet. Set about a year before 'City of'.

Disclaimer: Not mine, although I really wouldn't mind borrowing Lindsey from Joss if he did this. Of course, I'd give him back afterwards. Promise.

Notes: Part 1 of the 'Straight and Narrow' series. For Kassie, because she asked, (no, I don't count, "GET OFF THE IM NOW AND WRITE IT" begging) and for Lar, because she puts up with me babbling at her.


He sits at the bar, one hand leaning the outer rim, the other waving at the tender in an unsteady manner. Crushed ice seeps onto his fingers and he tries to stop them reaching his cuffs. But he can't do that and catch Tom's eye, so Lindsey wafts wet sleeves and pays for yet another beer.

"You want to slow down a bit, sir?"

Lindsey grins and shakes his head. Getting drunk is just fine with him tonight. He doesn't have to be in the office until Midday, doesn't have to rig anything to cover for his bleary eyes and just-fucked hair. He's organized - he has everything going on, everything in its place and a client who'll both bring him recognition and a hefty bonus: enough to cover his planned vacation without breaking a sweat.

As Tom moves away, Lindsey turns round and leans back on his stool. He's been here the past few nights and he's pretty sure that no one he knows comes this far down town. Too downbeat for them, he guesses, but he wouldn't be surprised if they've all got a version of this place - somewhere where nobody knows your name. And the big fat demons don't get pissed off and have you as entre.

The talent's not bad either, he admits as girl after girl in cheap jeans and over-dyed hair leans over the pool table to demonstrate where her real abilities lie. They've smiled at him, eyes drawn to the heavy gold links on his left hand, the obvious price tag to his clothes. He'd swear before a jury that he's worn this kind of rig for most of his life, but he can remember hand-me-downs that should have gone to the garbage truck and shoes he could feel the ground though.

But that's of the ago, and Lindsey likes being able to walk into shops and hear them say 'sir' without the lilt of another syllable. Pretentious is just fine by him, as long as the bed he goes home to has heavy cotton sheets that always seem brand new. He likes to sit in bed in the morning before the alarm goes off, looking at the open plan and knowing it belongs to him. And if he has a dream about the kind of home he wants, Lindsey's pretty sure that it involves having walls so far apart that you have to shout to get yourself heard. Only Lindsey doesn't intend to do a whole lot of shouting.

"Can I get one you haven't just put in there?"

He follows the low voice to its owner, watching as Tom offers that easy innocuous grin and reaches into the icebox to replace the beer. Another blonde; this one slightly prettier. He guesses she's not working at an outlet anywhere for minimum wage. There's no visible difference between her clothes and theirs - the skirt that wraps round lean thighs has a store label in the back - but she has an unimpressed air and offers him no more than a casual glance. Lindsey wonders if she's waiting for a boyfriend, but she drinks steadily and when the door opens she doesn't look up.

"Waiting for someone?"

She turns to him, beer rocked delicately back in her fingers. There's a shadow of a smile on her face, but her eyes are glazed - she's not interested in being here, or anywhere.

"No. Not this evening."

"But you will be tomorrow?"

She frowns and Lindsey leans forward, aware that he looks more boyish when he's drunk. Aware that he looks harmless, except when he smiles. He's been told that then he looks downright wicked.

He grins at her.

"I'm just asking because," he gestures to the decor, "I'm getting kind of lonely in here and I didn't want to start stepping on any toes."

"Stepping on toes is fine with me. You can add ribs into that any time you like."

"Bad boyfriend?"

She nods and tips her beer back. Lindsey likes the way her lips cover the rim - no air clamping down when she drinks.

"I'm Lindsey."

He holds his hand out and after a brief pause; she takes it, shaking it before pulling her hand back.


"Nice to meet you Kate. Can I get you another?"

"Sure, I don't mind getting drunk on someone else's money for once."

He chuckles and orders them in, sliding his bar stool closer to hers. He sees her lean away as he gets near, watches the line of her shoulders relax as Kate forces herself to lose the defensiveness. But it's always hard to do and she holds up her hand.

"Don't ask me things, okay?"

"Ask you things? Like what?"

She shrugs, "like what I'm doing here and do I want to talk about it and what do I do. Just don't."

Lindsey takes a sip of his beer and counts her list on his fingers.

"Right - don't ask Kate things. I can do that."

He looks at the ceiling and whistles for a moment, waiting until he sees her grin and shake her head before turning to her again.

"I've got it."


"A question I can ask you."

She shakes her head again and brandishes the bottle at him.

"This isn't some cheesy pick up line is it?"

"Oh I've got hundreds of those. I can use one if you want."

Kate holds her hands up in mock defeat, "no, go ahead. Ask me this important question."

He opens his mouth, wondering what will come out, confident that she's going to laugh anyway and lean in closer. Kate has pale blue eyes that gleam cat-like in the dark room. He thinks she'd look pretty good lying on his sheets.

"You ever slept on Egyptian cotton?"

She raises her eyebrows and turns back to her drink. He's fucked it, he knows - came out with the one line that was in his head but shouldn't have gotten through to his mouth. But it's said now and he might as well have got his cock out and asked if she'd like to suck it. Which is, as his now clearly alcohol soaked brain is aware, another question he'd like to ask. But not yet - say sorry, see if you can just grin your way out of it.

"Well, that's not even cheesy, is it?"

"It's below cheese."

"Way below." He shakes his head and slaps the back of his hand. "I guess that's why they have those lines - so you don't manage to screw everything up by improvising."

He catches the ghost of a smile across her lips and breathes out. Careful, Mr. McDonald, don't badger the witness.

"How about...what's a nice girl like you...?"

She shakes her finger at him.

"I said you couldn't ask me that."

"You didn't let me finish."

She shrugs again and leans on the bar, hand tucked under her chin, a dreamy, bemused expression Lindsey really likes across her face.

"Go on, then."

"What's a nice girl like you doing here, when we could be doing something much more interesting?"

And it's upfront again, still bordering on the edge of lechery, but Lindsey can't see it doing any harm. All decisions get made in the first thirty seconds as far as he's concerned.

"More interesting?" She finishes the second beer and rests it on the bar. "Getting drunk sounds pretty damn interesting to me."

He nods - can't deny that, but getting laid seems like a pressing issue and he wants to know what she looks like when he's sober. He rests his hand on her knee and when Kate doesn't pull away, he reaches into his accent and lets it hang on the line.

"There's Krug in my fridge, no pets to trip over, no girlfriend to avoid and a limo at the end of the phone."

Kate takes his beer and finishes it. "Champagne gives me a headache."

"Then I'll drink it."

"Sit and watch you get drunk? Real turn on there, Lindsey."

He smiles at her then, lip curling as his finger slides under the hem of her skirt, feeling the smooth skin tense as he explores.

"How about I drink it from you?"

She frowns for a second, realization coming slowly as Lindsey's fingers stroke her outer thigh. He slides his hand over, grinning as her legs part and her eyes open wider. Kate's fingers close over his through her skirt as she meets his eyes.

"Did you say you had a limo?"


"Do that again."

He leans back against Kate's naked thigh and takes the glass from her. She rests on his pillows with one hand behind her head, the other lying across her belly. As far as Lindsey's concerned, she looks a whole lot better out of those cheap clothes. He dips his finger in the liquid and writes his name out on her leg, starting by her knee so that the 'y' dips down with an elaborate twist. She seems to approve, tilting her hips up, musky smell exposed and offering him more than just a taste.

"Staking your territory?"

"Putting it in writing," he says as he takes a draught and hands her the glass. He bends to the task again; chill bubbles across his tongue as Lindsey traces wet lines over the warm flesh. She moans softly and he feels the tension beneath his mouth, plump and luscious. Before it can warm, he presses his tongue inside her, liquid blown up and in, his groin throbbing as she cries out. Her fingers find his hair and she pulls him into her, clinging as his tongue slides back and he draws champagne from her body.

Lindsey moves his hands up, keeping her thighs apart as he drinks, tongue working overtime as he pushes and licks, stopping Kate from clamping down and crushing his head. She bucks against him and it takes all his strength to hold her still, mouth still pressed against her, enjoying the way she tightens when his tongue's inside. As the last of the champagne slips down his throat, he seeks out the firm nub and sucks it gently into his mouth, freeing his hands to reach up and stroke along her torso. He finds her breasts, nipples peaked and quivering, sensitive under his fingers.

Her long thighs don't close as he brings her near and Lindsey relishes the power; loves feeling her struggle to comply beneath his lips and hands. But her mouth belies her submission and she cries out over and over, expletives he hadn't heard in bed since his youth. At the crescendo he delves his tongue up and inside, getting off on the way she tenses, determined to replace his tongue with his cock when she begs him to.

"Oh God, oh..."

She manages to tear her hands away from his hair to wipe her face: a light film of perspiration that he wrought. He raises his head and rests his chin on her belly, watching as she comes down again, unattended cock throbbing tightly now. Kate opens her eyes and looks at him; ethereal quality fully realized now - her eyes shine with satisfaction.

"Do you do that with all the women you pick up in bars?"

He nods, "all the ones who let me."

"And that's how many, exactly?"

Lindsey grins as he hears the suspicious tone slip back into her voice. "That's an '89 Krug."


He slides up her body, hips resting between her thighs, fingers reaching hers and entwining them. There's something oddly reassuring about the way they fit together - he can feel her feet against his and her mouth below his own. His lovers have always been smaller than him; that old chip on his shoulder urging him towards women he can lean down to caress. But he likes being able to see her face and wonders what it will be like to kiss her as they make love.

"I only had one bottle."

She smiles lightly; apparently aware she's been complimented. Lindsey bends to kiss her, his hips leaning forward, so easy to slide inside. And despite being careful, he doesn't much care for safety tonight - this is far too languid and enjoyable to interrupt. Yet as he finds her lips, soft under his own, he feels her reach to the side table, tapping for her purse. Though he doesn't want to Lindsey sits back on his heels, eyes never leaving hers as he opens the drawer and pulls out a foil square. He grins as her eyes slip away from his and to his groin, where years of practice have taught him to do this quickly and without looking. And when her arms reach up for him, he sinks down without a second thought; meets the urging hips with his own and feels the warmth tighten round him.

He groans and then laughs as she echoes him, her fingers tightening round his neck and her feet sliding up his thighs to knot behind his waist. Kate squeezes him and Lindsey gets to his elbows as he starts a long slow steady rhythm of pushing and pulling, feeling every inch of her close round him, eager and yet able to match his leisurely pace. This shared passion isn't urgent; he's quite happy to do this all night; thinks that maybe he even fucks in a Southern accent.

He feels her press her hips up, bumping against the base of his cock as she finds her own pleasure. And as her lips meet his, he feels surrounded and warm, tasting her own need against his tongue. Other men find this cloying, he knows, but aside from work, he's so fucking lonely that the perversion works for him - he wants to make love without having to bring her into his life and explain things. It makes them intimate strangers and Lindsey wonders what it would be like to wake up with her every day - see that melted blue ice flutter eyelashes and smile at him.

She whispers his name against his mouth and rocks upwards, panting hard now as the explosion threatens to come again. He moves away from her mouth, covering her face in kisses as her head moves from side to side, twisting as she squeezes him, hand and body contorting as Kate pushes herself to orgasm. Hips tilted just there, so that she's gaining all the friction she needs. He hears the mad giggle as she starts to peak, crushing him against her, his cock embraced by her body. Watches as she groans, her head rocked back as she goes over the edge. And as she goes briefly limp beneath him, Lindsey finds that he likes holding her, likes the way she breathes his name over and over as it passes.

She stretches lightly, rubbing her foot against his back and smiling at him. He grins in return and Kate looks at him suspiciously.

"What are you smiling at?"

"I liked watching you when you come."

He traces his finger down her profile and pauses at her lips, leaning down to kiss her before she stops him.

"You're not giving up on the corny lines, are you?"

"I like where it's got me."

"Oh you do?"

He answers by covering her mouth with his, pulling her tighter as he starts moving again. And she's all willing now, driving her body against his, squeezing and pushing and making Lindsey feel like all his brain power has drained along with the blood into his cock. He rushes head on, grunting with the effort, making this all about him now, but he can feel her hands, cool and calm on his face and as it builds up, he kisses her blindly. When he comes, face screwed up, arms shuddering, she whispers to him to let it out, let it all out, and he gives in so easily, falling on her until the waves pass.

They lay there, entwined for a long while, fingers brushing against hair and skin. He smiles at her, all pretenses dropped as he relaxes, finally.

"I feel sorry for the girls who didn't like champagne."

He laughs softly, rolling off and dropping the condom in the bin, before reaching back and finding her ready to lie in his arms. One arm wrapped under her body, cupping her breast loosely whilst he drapes the other over her arm, clasping her fingers again and pulling her tight.

"It was worth the wait."

She snorts and wriggles against him, and Lindsey knows he likes this much more than he should.

"Can't you come up with a better line than that?"

He hears the tiredness in her voice, the feel of a yawn against his chest and smiles. Closing his eyes, Lindsey slides his thigh between hers and rubs his face against her clean smelling hair. Feels himself slipping off to sleep, whispers, "I don't think I can come 'up' with anything now," before it overtakes him. They sleep under heavy cotton, smiles still evident as they begin to dream.


Lindsey wakes as Kate leans over him, grabbing her purse and shooting a sheepish grin his way.

"It's morning already?"

She stands up and pulls her hair into a ponytail, face still bare of make up.

"I wasn't going to just walk out, I was going to wake you..."

He holds his hand up, looking at her and noting that she looks even better in the light.

"It's okay, I'm just glad I saw you."

She smiles at him and checks her clothes and Lindsey recognizes that there are things to be said, things he'd rather not say and spoil his memory of last night. And he guesses she feels it too, so he sits up and kisses her, feeling the warmth of her lips under his own, trying to memorize it.

"This was," she pauses and tries to reach for the right words, "thank you."

He rubs his thumb against the side of her face. "Any time."

Kate smiles, kisses him once and makes for the door. "See you around, then?"

Lindsey nods; glad this is all so easy.

"Nice meeting you, Kate."

She flashes that guilty look briefly at him and closes the door behind her. He watches it for a moment before rolling over and shutting his eyes. He's organized, he has everything under control.

He doesn't have to worry about anything.


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