Title: Kissing Delilah

Author: Jeanny

Feedback/Email: jeannygrrl@hotmail.com Feedback is appreciated!

Spoilers: A:tS through Lonely Hearts

Rating: R (there's a slashy moment and one word you wouldn't hear on the show)

Season: Angel S1

Character: Lilah

Disclaimer: Angel: the Series and all the characters that appear on either show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Fox, Mutant Enemy, Inc., the WB and any one else with a legal binding claim to the show and/or characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: What if Lilah had skipped out on law school, but had come to Los Angeles anyway?...(Response for In Another Life Challenge - https://www.angelfire.com/mo3/fanfic/AnotherLife/Challenge.html)

AN: Why Lilah? Because she's a total bitca but still oddly vulnerable, and I can't help but wonder how much is her nature and how much is her life (think about how Cordelia could have turned out, things being different)...and because I just needed to do one more of these things. :)

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"Who are you?" Lilah Morgan asked in a voice that quivered slightly.

To an outside observer, it probably would have seemed like an odd question, but the none-too-tidy ladies room at D'Oblique was mercifully empty and there was no one to hear her ask it. No one but the reflection in the mirror she asked it too. She smoothed her brown hair with a shaky hand, still staring wide-eyed at her reflection as if it were going to answer her.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" she asked again, and nearly fell over someone answered.

"Just what I was going to ask."

She whirled around to see a stately black woman standing in the doorway like she was entering a stage. Lilah sagged, relieved to see her. The charismatic woman was Pamela Teague, her first and only friend, her boss and the whole reason she was looking into this mirror instead of the one she had at home tonight. Pamela's eyes flicked over her and her expression became amused. Looking down, Lilah realized she'd splashed water all over herself.

"Oh, fudge," she moaned, grabbing a paper towel to try to salvage things. The pale red dress she was wearing was slightly out of fashion, but it was flattering, though not so much with the darker red spots all down the front. She looked like she'd been bleeding. "This is my favorite dress."

"It's just water." Pamela shook her head, crossing her arms across her chest. Lilah stopped for a moment, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, then letting it out. She was overreacting, and Pamela was already in girl-talk mode. If she didn't get it together she'd never get out of this bathroom.

"You're right," she said finally. "I don't know what's gotten into me tonight. I'm all out of sorts."

"Well, that makes two of us. I swear, Delilah Morgan, I don't know what I'm gonna do with you," Pamela muttered, her tone affectionate but also genuinely troubled. Lilah shook her head. Pamela was the only person who called her by her whole name.

"Well, I'm hoping it involves getting me dried off," Lilah joked, and Pamela chuckled, pulling off another wad of paper towels and sponging more of the excess water off..

"You're definitely one of the brightest paralegals we've ever employed, and why you didn't go to law school is a mystery to me..."

"There were reasons," Lilah said softly, her voice almost lost in the loud musical blast that accompanied a pair of women in spandex into the room. She had no interest in getting into that whole saga here, tonight, or with Pamela. She was great to work for and a great friend, but she had no idea about certain things. Life and death things. Dark things.

Lilah shifted restlessly, more uncomfortable now that they weren't alone. Her boss seemed not to even notice the company, bent on scolding her like a mother.

"Whatever. You're a pretty girl, when you fix yourself up right. You're nice, you`re smart, but you live like a hermit. You've been out here, what, six, seven months?"

"Ten."

"Ten months. And I don't think you've had a single date. So I finally get you to come out with me and what happens? You`re hanging out in the john, talking to yourself. So I ask you, Dee. What gives?"

"I guess-" Lilah started, but Pamela interrupted knowingly.

"And don't even try to tell me you're shy. I know you, remember?"

"No, it's not that," Lilah said, though she ducked her head and blushed rather shyly when she said it. "It's just...I had a bad experience." Another set of women came in laughing drunkenly, and Lilah suddenly felt like there wasn't enough air. *Please, let that be good enough.* she prayed, but as expected she was forsaken.

"Is that all? Honey, we've all had bad experiences. It's part of the joys of dating. Unless...oh...oh, Delilah, were you...I mean, you weren't...oh God..." Pamela stammered in horror, unable to say the word rape. Lilah knew that if she said nothing, she could get out of this conversation, this club and all future outings...but there would be stares, and whispers, and pity. She could handle anything but the pity.

"No!" she practically shouted, earning them a few curious looks from the girls blotting lipstick over the sink. "No, it was...it was nothing like that."

That wasn't entirely true. It was...something like that. But trapped in this dingy little room filled with the banal chatter of these quasi-plastic women, sweating in her (looks like blood) soaked dress, she was certainly not going to tell her boss about being approached by someone willing to make all her dreams come true, for a simple if esoteric price. How she could have been rich and powerful, everything she was not, if only she would surrender her conscience and soul and perhaps a few other things science couldn't even prove she had. And how in a moment of self-righteousness or utter stupidity she'd said no, no, a thousand times no, whereupon the someone turned out to be a demon, an honest-to-goodness, big-time-evil demon. A demon that decided he didn't like her answer. No, he didn't like it at all. And he meant to show her how much.

There had been red spots on her dress when he'd been done, too. She'd felt changed, all the way down to her core, and had wept at her idiocy. She could have had everything, and gave it up to remain uncorrupted.

What a fool she was.

What had happened to her that day, that night, was the reason she'd avoided men, all men, and lived such a solitary life. Not because of the things he had done to her, as horrible and painful and disgusting as they were. No, because she'd liked it. No, she'd more than liked it, it had fulfilled her in ways nothing ever had before. And oh God, what she'd done to him in return...even now her she could feel her face flushing with heat just thinking about it.

She had tried not to think about it for almost a year. Every day she had tried to be absurdly good, like many small acts of kindness could somehow rinse her clean from what had crawled over and into her that night. Each evening when she came home she'd gaze at herself in the mirror, wondering why she felt so out of place, so wrong. Wondering who she was, and how (if) she could change. And every night she dreamed about the life she should have had, the power and wealth, and of the things they had done. All the things she wanted so badly. In the morning she would wake to the sickly yellow smell of sweat and futile arousal and dreams unfulfilled.

Uncorrupted. Right.

"I don't get it, then," Pamela was saying. "I mean, the guy was obviously a loser, but that doesn't mean the next one won't be a prince. You deserve a little happiness, Dee. That's all I'm saying."

"Sure," Lilah said. The other women had left, and the two of them were alone there once more. She moved closer to Pamela, placing her hands lightly on the woman's shoulders as she admired her ebony beauty, her pure fire, for not the first time. "I appreciate that, Pam. I really do. That and everything else you've done for me. You've truly been a great friend."

"Well, thank you, honey," Pamela said, obviously touched, then bewildered and more as Lilah's lips made contact with her own, coolness followed by a flash of heat, a flicker of tongue, sweet to tart to bitter. Pamela inhaled sharply, her whole body trembling, as Lilah pulled away.

"You know who Delilah was? In the Bible?" Lilah said conversationally, as if the kiss hadn't just taken place and she didn't have her body pressed close enough to the other woman to feel her heart pounding hard and fast. "You know, the temptress, sleeps with the hero, cuts his hair and steals his virility, yadda yadda yadda. You ever wonder what kind of girl she was? I always think, maybe she was just an ordinary girl, with all the ordinary girl wants and needs, whatever they were in her day, until one day somebody comes to her and says, `You can be so much more than this. Something extraordinary. You can have everything you want, and no one will ever forget your name. And all you have to do, is kiss that boy.'" Lilah smirked. "Well, of course she had to do more than kiss him, but it's like that, those moments. Like a kiss. They seem like nothing at first, and then they just change everything." She cocked her head, her eyes unfocused with memory, as Pamela stared at her like she'd lost her mind. Lilah supposed she had. But for the first time in a long while, she felt alive. "You ever wonder what would have happened to her if she said no?"

"I don't know what this is all about," Pamela said in an uneven voice. "I don't know what you thought I was-"

"Don't sweat it, Pam. It wasn't your fault, and I'm not trying to seduce you. Not that Delilah." She sighed, staring back into the mirror. "Truth is, I've been trying to be someone I`m not, and it's not working. It`s never going to work. I don't know who I am, but I'm not this girl who lives like a nun and says `fudge' instead of `fuck' and acts like she's scared of everything that makes her feel alive. Frankly, trying to be her? It's making me more than a little nuts."

"Maybe we should just talk about...everything...when you come in tomorrow," her boss said in that same shaky tone.

"Sure, Pam. Whatever you say." Lilah stroked the woman's cheek with her thumb, enjoying the little shiver from the black woman that resulted, then she stepped away and left her friend stunned, staring blankly at the mirror. *Maybe she'll get better answers.*

She scanned the crowd like a predator until she spotted him. He was the one. Handsome, brooding, alone, best of all dark. She could sense the darkness in him. Lilah licked her lips, speculating about the kinds of things he might show her. Not to mention what she might show him. She noted how he watched her approach over the rim of his drink, looking as if he'd almost been expecting her.

"Hello," she greeted him, dropping her voice an octave as she gave a girlish bounce.

"Hi," he answered, his eyes boring through her in a way that made her shiver delightedly.

"I'm Delilah," she said, holding out her hand. He took it gingerly, strangely surprised at her forwardness. Maybe he was more innocent than she'd thought. No matter; perhaps she would get to be the corrupter. The thought made her smile broadly, and his expression soon matched.

"Beautiful name, Delilah." he said. "I'm Kevin. God, I hate places like this, don't you?"

"Absolutely. Why don't we get out of here?" Lilah winked at him. Tahlmer could already tell he was going to enjoy being this one. A born seductress who had missed her calling.

Silently they both anticipated the other's corruption.

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