How he'd ended up the servant to a bunch of souled vampires was still something that made his head ache just thinking about it.
Damn Powers that Be.
Lindsey grumbled to himself as he lifted a heavy box of bottles from the trunk of his car, cursing the PTB, his "employers" and the liquor store owners on New Year's Eve for gouging him on the price of domestic sparkling wine at every single one.
Why Angel had decided at eight-fifteen in the evening on December 31st that they'd like some bubbly after all, was also head-ache inducing, but Lindsey had no choice but to obey.
Literally.
Damn Powers that Be.
Toting the box into the Hyperion, he scowled at the remaining, festive holiday decorations, and really scowled at the stack of cone shaped hats and noisemakers.
No, just a big no.
Definitely not Angel's idea, possibly Spike's, but probably the newest addition to their demented little family. In Lindsey's opinion, the Slayers should have just let the guy die, but the Witch had freaked and begged Angel and here they were.
Three souled and damaged vampires living together like a perverted odd couple plus one.
And since Lindsey did all the cleaning around here, too, he knew which bedroom they all tended to end up in.
Making a face at the thought of the condition of those sheets sometimes, Lindsey unloaded the bottles into the fridge in the kitchen, then took out some left-over fried rice, grabbed a pair of chopsticks, and leaned against the counter to eat.
*****
Lindsey dawdled over his meal as long as he could before heading back upstairs to the lobby. Sounds of laughter and music told him the party had started and he slipped around the edges of it, hoping to get out of there and find the peace of the courtyard garden. He felt Angel's eyes on him, but no one stopped him to ask him to fetch anything or clean up anything, and he made it out the back door.
Quiet descended--as quiet as it could get in a city half-ruled by demons and half by stubborn humans with the vampires and Slayers at the dividing line that passed through the hotel--and he took out his cigarettes. Before he could light one, a figure stepped out of the shadow of a lime tree, wearing a slinky pink bit of nothing dress and a smile on her beautiful face.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, truly surprised and a tad suspicious. His bosses really didn't like that their ex had chosen him over them.
Buffy smiled and walked into his arms. "Late Christmas present."
"From?"
"Me. Angel, Spike and especially mister overprotective Xander can lump it." And she kissed him.
Much, much later the party was over and the three vampires were trying to ignore the sounds only they could hear coming from their servant's bedroom three stories over their head. Each had a bottle of semi-flat faux champagne and was putting it to good use.
"Y'know, in the end, he's at least human, which is more than I can say for you," Xander pointed out, then yelped as Spike smacked him in the back of the head.
"You're not too old for a walloping, boy," Angel growled, his demon slipping out a tad as he guzzled from his bottle.
"Here we are, three, well two, okay one, handsome vampire with a soul and who's the one getting laid? The soulless lawyer," Spike protested.
"He has a soul," Angel growled again, demon a bit more free as the wine did its job. "Dirty, stinking piece of garbage, but it's there, and she, she, she..."
"Don't say it!" Spike waved his bottle, splashing liquid over everything.
"Loves him," spewed from his sire's mouth followed by several Gaelic curses.
"The horror," Xander moaned. "Oh, wait, he's still better than you two."
"Really going to get that spanking."
Xander winked his one eye at his sire, then scampered away as Angel lunged for him.
As they dashed up the stairs, Spike staggered to his feet to follow. "Hm, maybe we'll all get laid after all..."
End