Home / Fan Fiction / Angel / Cat and Mouse / The Second Move

Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe of the rights of Joss Whedon, the WB, Mutant Enemy or any other copyright holders of Angel.

The Second Move
by The Brat Queen

Warnings: Darkfic. Spoilers up to "Tomorrow"

Summary: Wesley acts on a few plans. (Sequel to "Weakness")

Thanks to WesleysGirl and Wolfling for the beta read.

There was a hiss, then a sizzle, then a general sound of pleasure and contentment.

"Nice," Angelus said. He stretched out, hips rocking upwards, cock hitting the inside of Wesley just so, then relaxed again, leaving Wesley with a low ache that was only challenged by his desire to continue.

"Good?" Wesley asked, seeking confirmation.

Angelus gave him a dry look - ironically enough - and rocked upwards again, this time eliciting a gasp from Wesley's lips. "Yeah. Good."

Wesley smiled. He hated to admit it, but the approval warmed him - again ironically enough. In anything else perhaps he could stay detached, and not care, but not in this. This was the vampire's specialty. Approval here was approval by, literally, the best.

"Thank you," Wesley said.

"Think that's my line," Angelus replied. There was a wriggle, and another knot of desire worked its way through Wesley's cock. Angelus pulled himself up - muscles framed beautifully against the backdrop of Wesley's bed. The thin leather straps that had been wound around thick wrists and thicker bedposts to encourage him to be still stood out in marked contrast against pale skin. Gold/brown eyes tried to look down at a chest which glistened with moisture and the decoration of faint wisps of smoke. "Where'd you come up with this?"

Wesley reached over to the bowl on his nightstand and removed another ice cube. He traced it along Angelus's chest, watching as the frozen Holy water melted, then skipped and sizzled across the vampire's skin as though it were a hot griddle. "A moment of inspiration," he said.

"Nice inspiration," Angelus replied.

"This one has a higher percentage in it," Wesley told him as he reached for another cube. "Tell me if it hurts more."

A ripple of pain across Angelus's torso was response enough. "Nice," the vampire murmured again.

"I thought you might appreciate it," Wesley said. He reached over to the nightstand again, but this time brought back two wineglasses, each filled from a bottle of red that Wesley had been saving. He sipped from his own, then tipped the second glass into Angelus's mouth so that the vampire could take a few swallows. After a moment, and a perverse desire which gave way to thought, he unsteadied the glass, making rivulets of wine drip down pale cheeks which hinted at stubble but never delivered, down the strong, muscled neck (and how did necks become muscular, anyway?) and pool onto the pillowcase below.

"Messy," Angelus said, licking at his mouth with a lion's tongue until Wesley leaned forward and performed the job himself, lapping at the sweet taste as though it were come, as though it were him drinking his own come out of Lilah's mouth, because of course Angelus never ever sucked him off, not in any way, shape, or form, but he wanted to know what that was like to taste a part of himself inside of this dark, powerful creature, and if orgasm wasn't a way to achieve this then perhaps alcohol was.

"You're helpless," Wesley said, knowing the words came from the faint fog of not-quite-drunkenness (the bottle of wine being merely the latest thing he and Angelus had drunk that night, and even the vampire himself had softened around the eyes and slurred his way into a Galway brogue from time to time) but not caring that they did. And, truth be told, the lack of caring for this vulnerable state intoxicated him far more than the wine ever could.

"Not really," Angleus reminded him, flexing muscles yet again to show that the leather was like tissue paper to him, easily torn and rendered useless if he so desired.

"You're supposed to be behaving," Wesley said. He put one glass down, then dipped his finger into the other, holding it out and rubbing it across Angelus's mouth like lipstick. Angelus turned, and nipped at the finger with lightly sharp teeth. "Pretending that you are helpless."

"So you can help me?" Angelus joked. Cool tongue swiped out, catching Wesley's finger and tormenting him with what it might feel like to pry himself off of the vampire's dick, move forward, and thrust into a cold, smooth mouth that never needed to breathe and survived on sucking.

"So you can teach me," Wesley reminded him, and slightly pissed as he was, he still knew this was an important thing to focus on - to keep Angelus focused on, because it would reap many rewards.

"Oh yeah," Angelus said, as though memory had only just returned to him. He became thoughtful, then tugged his hands against the bonds. "Not bad, you know. 'Course on a human it can't be this tight. Unless you're up for cutting off body parts when you're done."

"It could be arranged," Wesley said, smiling as a flash of humor and desire danced its way through those familiar eyes. No, he reminded himself, not familiar. Not Angel at all. Angelus. The ultimate unknown.

"Such a sweet talker," Angelus said. This time the rock had more bounce, and made Wesley's heart beat in a happy staccato. "Still, Wes - all talk, no action...."

Wesley smiled to see the vampire express a need - and he'd learned that with Angelus, pain was always a need, it was merely the forms of it which he could be flexible about - and flicked out his hand, feeling the solid reassurance of a blade enter it as though he had simply plucked it from the air like an apple from a tree. "Where would you like it?" Wesley asked, tracing the tip of the blade along the healing trails of burnt skin. "So many places suggest themselves."

Angelus slowly bared his throat. "We could be twins."

Wesley's hand tightened. He didn't register anything beyond that. He was well past the point of ever reacting as though someone's words had struck him like a physical blow. "Indeed," he said, simply.

"Aw," Angelus cooed, angling his mouth for another kiss. Wesley allowed it, trying to find the blur of physical bliss that had actually lead him to something not unlike relaxation before. "Did I hurt your feelings?"

"I want you to teach me something," Wesley said. He began to work his own hips, getting that friction back which distracted the both of them.

Angelus gave a low hum of approval. "Besides the fun of bondage, booze and - " he grasped about for a third word as his eyes glanced back over to the melting Holy water. "Barbeque?"

Wesley laughed. He downed the last of his wine and kept lifting and lowering himself, feeling the push-me-pull-you thrill of giving in to his own arousal versus concentrating on Angelus until the vampire was forced to come. It was a game between them both. A fight not only to see which of them came first, but which of them lost control first. "Yes," he said, stalling for time until Angelus's body was a little closer to oblivion. "Besides that."

"Tell me," the vampire cajoled, and abandoned the pretense of the wrist restraints, flipping his hands out of them easily and wrapping his arms around Wesley. They rolled over, Wesley's legs automatically moving to accommodate the perfect, thick cock while Angelus casually snatched the rhythm away from Wesley's control and drove into him hard, harder, hardest. "C'mon," he said, the double meaning clear, "give."

Wesley let the knife tumble out of his hands. He bared his throat, exposing the scar that Angelus's eyes continuously raped. Teeth and tongue began to caress it, giving him sharp bursts of pain which weren't erotic, in and of themselves, but which still pleased him.

"I want," Wesley said, breath heaving now because that was what happened to mortals when they were aroused and near-coming. "I want you - "

A growl. Part human, part demon. Angelus's cock thrust deeper, spearing him again and again. "Tell me," and this time it was a demand. Large hands wrapped themselves around his wrists, pinning him to the bed. Wesley struggled, but only because he knew without a doubt it would do him no good at all.

Game face appeared above his. Wesley immediately licked and sucked at the bumps and ridges and fangs. "Tell me," Angelus said again, hands clamping harder so that, yes, Wesley could see that circulation must always be a consideration in these games and - God - yes - he might even be bruised this time, with marks even Lilah would see and - oh God - he didn't care - no, he did care, and that was the wonderful, bloody -

"Teach me how to kill," he moaned, heaving himself upward, trying to close all distance between himself and this massive body that threatened to crush him and destroy him in so many, many ways. "Please. Teach me. To kill."

And there - yes! - he'd won it. Angelus screamed out, releasing a wrist to slam his fist directly through the wall above the headboard as he shuddered, and came, and then fucked Wesley in pure revenge to make him sob and give in.

"Angelus - God - Angel - " and there, he was gone, his own come spattering their chests as endorphins raced through him, providing a wonderful cocktail with the wine which left him giddy and lightheaded and something that could be mistaken for happy.

"You mean it?" Angelus asked, his eyes dark once more but keenly perceptive all the same.

"Yes," Wesley told him honestly. "I want you to teach me how to kill. I want to learn. From the best."

A kiss was his immediate reward.

Angelus lay back and enjoyed the quiet moments that passed for afterglow with him and Wesley. Wes, mortal to the end, dozed beside him. Angelus, never mortal and not inclined to be, stayed awake, one arm pinned beneath Wes's sleep-heavy head, and contemplated the infinite. Or, more accurately, Wes's ceiling.

More accurately still - Wes and Wes's ceiling.

Wes, as a killer. He'd be lying if he said it didn't give him a hard-on. And it had to mean humans, it had to, because demons Wes already killed and did so out of duty. Or, at least, he had killed them out of duty so not like he needed the greatest evil to sit there and rah rah him on, or even give pointers.

So - humans. Only option.

From there the path forked. On the one hand - who? On the other - how?

Knives, he thought. Wes already knew guns - hell, knew them better than he did since fuck knows he hadn't touched one since before the days of Smith & Wesson. Bare hands was fuck-all hard as a mortal, and poison wasn't an Angelus hallmark - well, except for that one time - so really when all was said and done, what was left?

Well, actually - a lot if you had imagination but Wes also had what those in LA called issues so Angelus was figuring this was a moment for Wes to get in touch with his inner slasher.

Plus Wes and knives was real pretty. Angelus ran a hand down his chest in memory of it.

He made a mental note to teach Wes how to draw. You could carve many a picture into willing skin. Or even unwilling if that was your kink.

He gave an experimental move of his arm. Wes stirred, but remained silent. Still asleep. Bastard. There'd be a revenge blowjob out of it later.

So then - who?

Various names suggested themselves. Himself, which was stupid. Justine, which was boring. Mr. Wyndam-Pryce Sr., which was traditional if nothing else. And of course Fred and Gunn, which was funny.

Angelus amused himself wondering which would be sexier to watch - Wes killing Fred, or Wes killing Gunn. On the one hand, hidden lust. On the other hand, hidden lust and the guy that stole his would-be girlfriend.

Of course the thing with that was then of course you kill the girl first because then there's all kinds of fun lessons in why heroes never save the girl in the end, not really, and watching the guy struggle and try to do it anyway and throw every insult in his repertoire out at you until the inevitable "You'll pay for this!" which is never true, really, because if Angelus had learned one thing in a very long and annoying life it was that payback never came when you wanted it to, or even necessarily for what you thought it should.

So yeah - Fred first, bound up and squirming and Wes had to have some spells in his bookshelves to help re-create the Pylea days inside of her head. Or - better yet - just strap on a collar and the promise that there were all kinds of ways of making her head blow up and then place bets as to how long it would take for her to completely revert back into the insanity that hadn't fully left her, Gunn's denials about that little issue aside. And then work on the fact that, nope, there's no such thing as a safe place, even in a nice, closed-off cave and isn't it a shame that theoretically you helped save the guys who are now teaming up and torturing you and -

Wait. They would team up, right? Wes wouldn't go off and kill somebody by himself, would he? Because that was just rude.

"Hey," Angelus said, nudging Wes to wake him up. "Hey."

Wes turned and blinked unfocused blue eyes at him.

"You'd better let me watch," Angelus told him.

Wes frowned, as though trying to translate, then clearly gave up the attempt due to apathy. "What time is it?" he said instead.

Angelus checked the clock. "Almost midnight."

Wes nodded, as though confirming something, and got up. "Get dressed then."

Angelus sat up, trying to process this. "Throwing me out so soon?"

Wes tossed over Angelus's black jeans. "No. We have a meeting."

Interesting. "With who?"

"You'll see," Wes said, shrugging into a shirt.

Angelus buttoned up his fly, then found his own shirt in the tangle of sheets and bondage gear. "And what am I supposed to do?" he asked.

Wes smirked. "Be yourself."

"Which version is that again?" Angelus asked, having long ago lost track of these things.

"The current one," Wesley said. He appeared in front of him and ghosted a hand over a semi-hard, aching cock. "Be good, and you'll have rewards."

Angelus met his eyes with a stare that didn't back down from anyone. "And why shouldn't I take what I want now?"

"I would think," Wes said, eyebrow cocked, "that you of all people would know the joys of delayed pleasure. Now trust me."

What the Hell, Angelus thought. Not like there wasn't plenty of time to throw Wes up against a wall and fuck him later. In fact - he'd make some. Walls made some nice bruises when you hit them right.

They'd made themselves comfortable in the livingroom - which for Wes was sitting at his desk working and for Angelus was sprawled in an armchair, one leg hooked over the side, and silently giving the whole thing five more minutes before it was 'let's fuck Wesley over the desk and use that letter opener to carve a big A into his chest' time.

Not that he'd been thinking about it.

Wes, for his part, was relaxed about the whole thing, as though it was all moving on a schedule that made sense to him. Which, all things considered, it probably did.

Point of fact, he looked up as though hearing something long before Angelus did.

"Might want to get that," Wes suggested, and sure enough a minute later there was the sound of footsteps and someone getting ready to put keys in the door.

Angelus loped out of his chair and snatched the lock away before key could make contact with it, opening the door wide and smiling at the person on the other hand.

"Hey, Lilah."

Lilah regarded him coolly, slipped her keys back into her purse, then turned to look at Wes who had appeared near Angel's shoulder. "So when were you going to tell me this little news flash?"

"Come in, Lilah," Wesley said, his accent putting a commanding note on the final syllable. "We've business to discuss."

"Yeah, no kidding," she said, swooping past Angelus with an aftershock of perfume filling the air between them. "If my boss finds out that you knew Angel was back when - "

"Get the door," Wes told Angelus.

Angelus closed and locked it, then slipped back to his chair, resuming his pose from before.

"I want to make one thing perfectly clear," Wesley said. He walked around the room to stand behind Angelus. He let one hand rest on Angelus's shoulder. Angelus, being himself, reached up and ran a fingernail along Wes's inner wrist. "This has every potential to be our last meeting."

"No kidding," Lilah replied. She made a dismissive gesture at them both. "You know, my secretary was right. I should've known you were a fag."

"What?" Angelus asked, genuinely curious. "Is he calling out the wrong name when he's in bed with you too?"

Wes, for his part, looked nonplussed by the whole thing. Angelus made it a vow that he would one day plus the boy. "No. Because if you don't do as you're told, or prove that I can trust you, I'm going to have Angelus kill you right in front of me."

Angelus threw Wes an appreciative look. Had to admit it - offering up the current girlfriend was pretty up there on the list of romantic gifts and things that made delayed orgasms worth waiting for. The night of Fred debauchery was actually looking possible.

"Excuse me?" Lilah asked. She folded her arms as though questioning a judge who'd just said her evidence was inadmissible. "Trust? We do that? And - " Oh yeah, there it was. Hello, realization dawning. "What?"

"Nice to meet you," Angelus purred. Good to know that when Wes had said be himself he'd meant be himself.

Lilah stared at him as though she could see the soul - or lack therein - through his eyes, then immediately snapped her gaze back to Wesley. "You're not that good."

"The details aren't important," Wes replied.

"They are to me," she retorted. She advanced a step further, the very picture of female deadliness. "Because while I do appreciate this whole tortured ex-good guy who can't find his place in the world thing that you've got going, I've also got a job. Which you use for your own ends. And if you think that we're going to stay together when I know that you've been sitting on that - " she gestured at Angelus, then made a face of disgust " - often literally while I've been busting my hump on menial tort cases - "

"How would you like to be in charge?" Wes asked, smoothly inserting the question into Lilah's tirade.

She blinked, straightening her shoulders. "Excuse me?"

"Wolfram and Hart is a dimensions-wide organization, is it not?" Wesley asked, as though double-checking something he already knew. "Pure evil, with a direct line to - oh let's just call it Hell for lack of a better term."

"Call it Butte, Montana if you want," Lilah shrugged. "Yeah. They're big, they're bad and they've got a dental plan. I gave you the brochures, Wes. You know this."

"I do," Wes agreed. His hand became firmer on Angelus's shoulder. "Now I want to know the person in charge. How high up in the ranks can you go?"

Angelus could see Lilah's mind working. "Just under the Senior partners."

"CEO of the firm here, in other words," Wesley said.

"Pretty much," Lilah replied. She looked at Wes as though assessing him. "What do you have planned?"

"A partnership," Wesley said, and Angelus was fairly certain he was the only one who could see the glint of humor in Wes's eyes at the word. "Amongst the three of us. Angelus and I use our strengths to get you in charge, you in turn ally yourself with us as we go forth with our own... fun."

"And if you turn on us," Angelus said, knowing full well the end verse to this particular song, "we kill you. Or - Wes orders you dead and I take a really long time with it."

Lilah stepped forward, her movements precise and easy, like a dancer's.

"You know," she said, looking him up and down, "your doppelganger used to say things like that all the time. Can't help but notice I'm still here."

Angelus gave her a catlike grin in response. "I've got a spine. And a sadistic streak. And I'm real, real hungry. I wouldn't mistake me for Angel anytime soon, darlin'."

It was the words or the faint brogue which did it.

"Okay," Lilah said. "I'm in. What's the first item on the agenda?"

"I've got a task for you both," Wesley said. He went over to his desk and produced a file folder. "I daresay you're both going to like it."

Lilah took the folder first, flicked it open, and read it in a second.

"Fine," she said, putting the folder under her arm as though it was a legal brief. She turned and went back to the door. "But we're taking my car."

"Why am I going through with this again?" Angelus asked as he put on his coat.

For an answer, Wesley smiled. "Trust me."

It was a two hour drive east. It used to be a four hour flight east but Lilah had learned the importance of never keeping anything that mattered in one place for too long. She'd thought that two hours away was close enough to fall under the shield of hiding in plain sight, but she guessed not.

Angelus had insisted on taking his own car. She lead the way in her BMW.

Angelus. There was a turn. As far as she knew, nobody at Wolfram & Hart knew about this little development. Angel being back, yeah. But the soul? Still intact as of last Thursday's 8am all-staff meeting.

They really needed to get better bagels at those meetings. Or muffins. Muffins were good.

Wes had known. Wes had known about Angel - which didn't throw her all too much - and had also known about Angelus. And had been fucking Angelus, which she so couldn't wrap her mind around. Not that it wasn't pretty from a visual standpoint. But what the Hell was it like? What did they do? Did Wes even enjoy it, or did Angelus have to tease each little god-damned gasp out of him like she did?

Lilah suddenly pictured herself having a coffee with the vampire and comparing techniques. She even went so far as to start making a list of everything she could get Wes to admit to liking in bed, just so she could lay it out in front of the vampire during the imaginary conversation and watch him sputter and look inadequate as she coolly ordered a non-fat latte and condescendingly told him it wasn't his fault that he didn't have a cunt that Wes couldn't keep his mouth off of.

Then she pulled herself back to the real world.

She thought about the deal, such as it was. Her lawyer-mind was smug, happy that she hadn't agreed to more than she could handle. Ambiguous comments, not even a proper verbal contract - there was plenty of wiggle room.

But, really, she was fine without the wiggling. Well, except for the aforementioned fetish of Wesley's.

Wolfram & Hart had been a closed door to her. She didn't know why. She was smart, she was sexy, she didn't give a damn about hurting the little people. By all rights she should be running the literally damned place.

But no. Because Wolfram & Hart, like all the law firms you could find, was a boy's club. For all the fancy suits and big name cases, when it boiled right down to it the whole place was little more than a treehouse with a hastily written "No Girls Allowed" sign on the front.

Lindsey got it. Gavin got it. Both men, so different, but able to slide their way up the corporate ladder with little to no problem while Lilah scrambled for the tiniest crumb.

Well - screw them. She had a brain and she wasn't afraid to use it.

She also had Wes, and she wasn't afraid to use him.

Interesting thing, Wes. Flew in under everyone's radar. Silly, clumsy sidekick with the crush on Angel that was obvious to everyone except him and Angel. Or, given the new sleeping arrangements, maybe not so unobvious to Wes.

But then things had changed. It had been a memo, passed in front of her desk. Tiny thing, easily ignored. Just mentioned that the psychics had noticed interesting things for Wesley's future.

Who cared, right?

Then the Holtz thing went down. And anybody who remembered the memo in the first place figured - yeah, okay, check that off the action item list and let's move on.

Except Lilah. Who'd hired an outside psychic and asked for a double check.

Gut feeling, really. Women's intuition, if you will.

Had to love the irony.

One by one each psychic said the same thing - big thing coming, and Wes was at the heart of it. If you liked hedging your bets with a winning team, go team Wes.

No problem.

Actually, it hadn't been that hard. The firm had pushed her to make the connection in the first place. She just added a little spin. Made the whole thing personal. Which worked out well since she was able to see for herself what the boy was made of. And there was definitely more to Wes than snakes and snails and puppy dog tails.

Lilah adjusted her side mirror, looking back at the hulking black car which kept pace with her.

Two boys, wanting her on the team. She wasn't stupid. She'd believe the 'partnership' line about the same time Wes would believe it if she said she loved him.

But - practically speaking, they needed each other. And whatever Wes had up his sleeve, putting her in charge of Wolfram & Hart was a part of it.

Machiavellian as his little mind was, she didn't doubt he could do it.

So - why the Hell not? Better than sitting behind her desk, working divorce cases and being forced to smile through performance reviews which said she was good, but not quite good enough.

And the nice thing about doing it with Wes was that there was no doubt in anyone's mind who was getting fucked.

It was just a question of who was on top.

"This the place?"

Lilah rolled her eyes. "No. I drove out here in the middle of the night with you for fun. And because of the great thing that getting pretty much no sleep does to my complexion."

"Easy," Angelus said. He slipped a hand into a coat pocket and produced a cigarette and a lighter. "Just trying to make nice."

"Is that smart?" Lilah asked, indicating the cigarette as the vampire palmed it, put it into his mouth, then lit it. "This is supposed to be subtle. Do you want to set off a signal flare too while you're at it?"

"First rule of being undercover," Angelus said, exhaling a long plume of smoke. He smiled at her. "Never look like you're not totally comfortable where you are."

"Guess you'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you?" They left the safety of their parked cars and began to walk across the large, manicured lawn. Somewhere in the distance a fountain bubbled, cheerfully wasting water well into the night.

"I have practice," Angelus replied.

Lilah analyzed him. Upon reflection, she wondered how anybody could mistake this demon for Angel. He was taller and acted without hesitation. His long black coat moved like a living shadow. Every muscle was clearly under his control and one look into those brown eyes told you he'd just as soon kill you as ask you to step out of his way.

"Why do you do it?" she asked. "You're the big bad. What's in it for you?"

"True love," Angelus said, flicking ashes to the ground and grinning at her mockingly. "Just like you."

"Seriously."

Angelus shrugged, sucking down another smoke-filled breath. "I've got my reasons."

Lilah made an encouraging gesture in the air. "Feel like sharing any of them?"

The smile on the vampire's lips was the same smile that every carnivore had ever given its prey. Lilah became keenly aware of how often she ate salads.

"I know his weak spots," Angelus replied.

"And that does it for you?" she asked, unable to stop herself from trying to find out if this vampire had buttons and if she could push them. "For weak spots you play soul boy?"

"Hey look," Angelus said, his voice making it clear in no way was he unaware that he was avoiding the question. "We're here."

"What's the point of this?" Lilah asked. "Does he honestly think I care?"

Angelus gave a philosophical shrug. "I'll be here."

"Not coming in?" she asked.

He grinned. "Sign says no smoking."

"Lose the soul, gain a sense of humor," she replied. She mounted the steps and put on her best don't-fuck-with-me smile.

It took twenty minutes, but they finally agreed. It probably would've taken longer but she knew how to bust balls when she had to.

Afterwhich there was some debate with Angelus. Her having her own ideas, him pretending to listen to them then pointing out that of them both he was clearly the expert in these things.

So they went back to their cars, which were parked away from the building, and lights, and anyone who could see them, and while Lilah stood there watching Angelus took her mother's face in both hands, kissed her forehead, then snapped her neck.

"I'd recommend tossing her in the ocean," Angelus said, leaving Lilah to put the body in her trunk. "Apparently you can lose a lot of things down there."

"I've got resources," she said. She looked down at her dead mother, studying her. She tried to feel something, but could only remember the last coherent conversation they'd had. She'd chastised Lilah for not being married yet. It had almost been enough to make her want to haul Wesley to the next family reunion so she could show him off as her financially comfortable, highly educated and well-traveled boyfriend. Which made her pipe salesmen brother in law look like nothing.

"No, really," Lilah said, stopping the vampire as he walked back to his car. "Why send us on the road trip? Why did he think I would care?"

Angelus looked at her, clearly attempting to decide his answer. "It's not good to have weaknesses," he told her.

"My mom isn't a weakness," she said. She looked down at the dead body and amended it to: "Wasn't."

"Maybe she looked like one," Angelus suggested. With that, he got into his car and drove off, leaving her to deal with the cleanup.

She slammed her trunk closed and drove back to LA.

The beaches were quiet at night. Empty. No signs of life, if you chose the right one.

He liked coming out to them. The roar of the ocean was powerful, yet soothing. He could sit on damp sand for hours, watching the tide move in and out, mesmerized as the waves wiped the shoreline clean.

It was the sort of place you could come to if you wanted to be alone.

"I thought I might find you here," a voice said. He turned around to see a man. Tall. Thin. An interesting scar on his neck. "It's nice to see you again, Steven."

Fin.