Part Three

Cordelia was *way* too chipper at nine the next morning. Xander lay groaning on the couch, trying to ignore the sounds of orange juice being freshly squeezed and espresso beans being ground up in what had to be the loudest battery operated appliance he had ever had the misfortune to try and sleep through. When she actually began to make good on her threats of tickling him to wakefulness, he finally rolled onto the floor and crawled off down the hall, hoping a shower would get his brain's neurons firing.

By the time he emerged, still struggling to keep his eyelids open, Cordelia simply shoved a thermos of coffee and some toast at him and dragged him out the door. "Cordelia," he finally managed as they were sliding behind the wheel of a maroon convertible that Xander had never seen before, "why the rush?"

"Because, idiot, I want to be able to show you lots of the city before my hot date tonight. In order to see lots of the city, we need to get an early start. In order to get an early start, some people need to get their asses out of bed before noon."

Xander considered which point to take on first. "You know, I was born and raised in Sunnydale, which, as I recall, is only two hours from L.A. It's not like I've never been here before. And you're ditching me tonight for a *date*?!"

"It's not just any date! It's with someone very special, and rich and important, and he might be able to get me all kinds of acting jobs. And this is kinda his car, which he let me borrow for the sole purpose of showing my tourist friend from the sticks the sites. Which is what you are. No matter how many times you've been to L.A, there's nothing like being shown around by someone who lives there *and* is in the biz. This way, you get to see all of the places I've auditioned at."

Which is pretty much what Xander did see for the next four hours. Lunch was eaten at one of the new hot-spots where a meal cost about $20 and Cordelia could spend the whole time trying to be noticed. Not that the dark-eyed man minded too much. It was amusing to see his ex-girlfriend so completely in her element. And it was an uncommon boost to his ego to know that Cordelia didn't seem to think being seen with him would end her career before it started. Even if she had rolled her eyes at the khakis and cotton blue button down shirt. To Cordelia, his outfit was incredibly casual. To him, though, he was dressed up. He wanted to look good for what he couldn't help but think of as his date with Doyle, while at the same time not appearing to have gone out of his way to dress up. He almost wished he could have asked Cordy for her advice, but knew that down that road lay the potential for copious amounts of humiliation. So, khakis and blue shirt it was.

By the time they Cordelia had dropped him off at the office, most of his anxiety over the upcoming evening had been burned away by exhaustion. The lack of sleep the night before had led him to drink enormous amounts of coffee just to make it through the morning. After lunch, he began to suffer from the fallout of too much caffeine, and almost fell asleep twice during some of Cordelia's less inspiring stops on their tour. Things might have gotten ugly if he had,so he had used every ounce of energy in his body to make sure he didn't. So now, at seven, he felt about ready to pass out.

Doyle was already there, using the internet to investigate more of the symbols on the sword that he and Angel had been researching the day before.

Xander tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He had really been looking forward to going out somewhere with the other man, leaving the possibility open (at least in his own mind) for a continuation of what had been started three weeks ago. "So research it is, I take it."

Doyle smiled when he saw the younger man in the doorway. "Not exactly. It looks like the other sword was stolen from the museum before we got back there, which is not exactly good news. What's even worse is that these symbols aren't in any of the books or on any of these websites. Basically, we're outta luck, as far as learning more about the swords goes. If you ask me, there's no reason for us to waste a perfectly nice evening sittin around being useless."

Xander nodded thoughtfully. "Besides, I'm sure Deadboy will do that enough for all three of us."

They shared a wicked grin for a second, then the Irishman shut down the computer and stretched. "I was thinking...dinner first? There's this great diner near my apartment called the Cozy Corner, if you're not too picky on what you eat. Then maybe I'll show you what a real pub is meant to be like."

Xander looked relieved. "A diner would be great. Cordelia's been taking me to these fancy restaurants the past couple of days and I'm not used to going to places like that. Plus," he added, looking down at his clothes, "I didn't really pack for it."

Doyle looked the teenager up and down, his eyes not seeming to linger at any particular point in his perusal, much to the unhappiness of the brunette. "Well, you look fine for the places I have in mind."

Xander swallowed hard, his mind first busily trying to decide if there was innuendo in that statement at all, then busily yelling at the hopeful part of him for assuming that Doyle was still remotely interested in him at all. It was going to be a long night.

* * * * * * *

The walk to the diner had been a little awkward but not really uncomfortable. Neither man was particularly adept at picking topics of conversation that didn't peter out almost instantly, and unfortunately neither was particularly good at silence, either.

Once they had food in front of them though, things got easier. Doyle found that the best way to maintain Xander's undivided attention was to tell stories which highlighted the less than intelligent side of Angel, so most of the meal was filled with just such exploits. He wasn't sure exactly what Xander had against his boss, but was willing to play into it just to have the opportunity of making the younger man laugh.

By the time they headed half a block over to one of Doyle's favorite pubs, they were both much more relaxed, and the half-demon had even got the normally tight-lipped youth to talk about himself and his life a little. Xander had been initially anxious about using his fake ID to get into the bar, but the guy at the door obviously knew Doyle and didn't even glance at it.

Once inside, Doyle was much more in his element, chatting with everyone from the bartender to the regulars who sat in a group. He guided Xander to two stools on the other side of the room from them, simply holding up two fingers to the bartender, who obviously knew exactly what Doyle drank. This ease spoke of how much time Doyle must have spent within the dirty brown walls, a notion which reminded Xander uncomfortably of his father. To keep his mind off of that train of thought, the young man quickly found something - anything - else to talk about. "It must be ...interesting working with Cordelia. I mean, I didn't even think she knew how to type or anything."

Doyle couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, she's not really what you'd call 'office material', is she? I think the worst thing is her coffee. You know if even Angel won't drink it, it must be bad." His face turned more serious as he studied the youth in front of him. "She did tell me that you and her used to be something of an item, though."

Xander grimaced. "Yeah, and I'll bet she put in a few choice words for me there."

Doyle thought about this. "Well, she might have mentioned that things didn't end very well between you...something about another woman?"

Sigh. "Yup. Not my most shining moment, I have to say. I never thought we'd be friends again, but a year later, here we are."

The brunette shrugged. "You made a mistake. She knows you have a good heart, though, underneath."

The slayerette looked into the nearly empty glass before him, wondering how he had finished his beer that fast. The alcohol, little though it was, was making him melancholy. When he spoke, it was so quietly that if Doyle had been completely human, he never would have heard him. "I really loved her, though. There hasn't been anyone since who..." He trailed off, not really sure he should be having this conversation with the Irishman.

"Yeah, well, she's easy to love, I think. Once you get past the bristles and glares."

They shared a smile, and then Doyle's serious mood came back with a vengeance. He knew he had something he had to tell Xander now, rather than allowing the boy to find out later. "When I first started working for Angel (only a few months ago, but it feels like years) I sorta had a thing for Cordy. I mean," he added hurriedly, "it's not like we actually went out or anything, but I was definitely interested."

"You were crushing on her," Xander summed up succinctly.

"Yeah. I just thought you might want to know."

"But you're over it now?"

The half-demon couldn't help but let his eyes run over Xander's seated form. "You might say I've moved on to greener pastures."

Xander knew his eyes had widened to the point of bugging out, but he was too surprised (and pleased, admit it) to care. Doyle liked him. Doyle wanted him. Doyle had given up his (granted, not very realistic) dream of having Cordelia for having Xander. The brunette looked at his own empty glass, then at the older man's nearly empty one. He finally raised his brown eyes to meet warm green ones. "Do you think, maybe, we could -"

"- get out of here?"

"Yeah." They pushed back from the bar as one, with Doyle slipping out the door first and leading the younger man back to his apartment.

Part Four

As soon as the elevator doors had shut behind them, Doyle pinned Xander against the side of the car, staring into deep brown eyes as he held his lips mere inches from those of the other man. It was Xander who closed the remaining distance and pressed his warm mouth against Doyle's, sliding his tongue across his lips. The older man opened his mouth, allowing the youth to taste the tang of alcohol over another flavor, one that was distinctly Doyle. As the slayerette coiled his tongue around the half-demon's, he slid his hands up and down his back, finally letting them come to rest cupping the firm muscles of his ass.

The elevator ding finally alerted them to the fact that they had arrived at Doyle's floor, and they quickly disentangled themselves long enough to walk down the hall to his door. As the green-eyed man fumbled for his keys, though, Xander's control crumbled and he attacked the seer's mouth again.

As the key finally clicked in the lock, they both tumbled in the open doorway and landed on the floor, mouths and hands still exploring the uncharted crevasses and ridges beneath each other's clothing. Doyle kicked the door closed and pulled back from Xander's enticing mouth, allowing both of them to gasp for much-needed oxygen. The Irishman took the opportunity to really stare at the beautiful person lying beside him.

The only light in the room was coming from the streetlights right outside the open window. The slight illumination brightened Xander's dark eyes, highlighted his moist lips. The half-demon ran his fingers lightly down the smooth skin of the young man's cheek, then following his touch with his lips. He rained light kisses down the jaw, then twirled his tongue at the juncture of Xander's neck and shoulder before tracing the exposed portion of his collarbone. The youth gasped and reached over to grab the back of Doyle's head, pulling him into a bruising kiss. As the Irishman went to pull Xander over and on top of him, his elbow suddenly connected with the dresser to their right.

"Ow!" he cried, rolling quickly away from the offending furniture only to have his head collide solidly with one of the legs of the bed. "Shit!" he rubbed his bruised skull. Xander's giggles broke through his pain and he glared at the boy for a full minute before he remembered that it was too dark in the room for the human to see him clearly.

Pulling away from the younger man, Doyle jumped to his feet, then used his full strength to yank a startled brunette to his feet as well, then push him back onto the bed. A quick tumble on the floor was not in the cards for either of them that evening.

Doyle flopped down on his stomach beside Xander on the bed, using his hand to reach over and pull the youth against him. They kissed wetly even as nimble fingers began unbuttoning Xander's blue shirt and caressing the hard chest underneath it.

The half-demon dipped his head and let his tongue travel from the other man's throat to navel, then back up to circle around the two dark nipples until Xander moaned his arousal and frustration.

The younger man's hips bucked against Doyle's, rubbing close enough to (but not quite on) the older man's erection to make his plans of a slow seduction fly out the window. Aggressively, he stilled Xander's thrusting as he pulled on the fastenings of the slayerette's pants, practically ripping the button off the material. Xander helped him to haul the khakis off of his legs, then finished removing his shirt, as well. When Doyle was satisfied that there was no more cloth between him and the stunning body beneath him, he relaxed slightly and turned his attention to investigating the newly uncovered flesh below Xander's waist. Intentionally staying away from the straining cock, the Irishman kissed from Xander's knee to his upper thigh, then switched and did the other leg in the same manner. He smiled as he heard Xander's grunt of annoyance. Suddenly, and to the half-demon's complete surprise, he felt the brown-eyed man flip them both over, so that Xander was looking down at Doyle. The young man smiled at Doyle's fully clothed appearance, then began tugging off the other man's clothes. "It's not really fair if I'm the only naked one here, now is it?"

Unlike Doyle's teasing mouth, once Xander had removed all of the other man's clothing, the first thing he did was deep throat the half-demon's shaft. Doyle nearly bucked off the bed in shock, but quickly recovered and grabbed at Xander's head as both something for him to hold onto and to encourage Xander to continue his ministrations. The youth was happy to oblige until the older man abruptly jerked away from him with a very different kind of moan.

"Ahhhh, shit!" he exclaimed, holding his head in both hands.

Xander sat up so he could see his lover's face. When he realized how much pain Doyle was so obviously in, his eyes widened. "I'm sorry! What did I do? How can I make it better?"

The youth's words couldn't break through Doyle's haze. The only thing the green-eyed man was aware of was the fact of the vision gripping him, along with the accompanying agony.

"Guh. Demon. Huge. Fuck." Finally, he was able to sit up, reaching past Xander to pick up the half empty bottle of amber whiskey from the floor and taking one long swig directly from it. Only then did he take notice of the anxious teenager sitting in front of him.

"Xan? What's wrong?"

"I hurt you?" Xander asked in a confused voice.

"What?" Doyle was perplexed, the vision too fresh in his mind for much coherent thought. Then the teen's words sank in. "No. It's not you. I had a vision. Remember? My skull-numbing visions? Well, you just witnessed one."

"That was a vision?"

"Yup." Doyle reached for his clothes in the dark.

"So...now we have to go?"

"Yeah. There's some kind of demon about to materialize downtown, and we need to get Angel on it."

"Right, okay." Sounding only marginally convinced, Xander also began dressing quickly.

A few minutes later, both dressed, they headed out of the apartment and back to the office. Xander took one last look at the disheveled bed with a sigh as he followed Doyle back into the hallway.

Part Five

Angel could smell the arousal all over them.

It was heady, and intoxicating, and increased steadily every time they looked at one another. Already it was strong enough to affect his driving, almost crashing the car twice as he sped downtown to the place where Doyle expected the demon to show up. It was also extremely frustrating for someone who had been celibate for so long (all those years in Hell, remember) to have to smell two people who had obviously been in the middle of having sex when the vision hit. He idly hoped that Doyle knew what he was doing, getting involved with Xander of all people. He had restrained himself from saying something to his friend after they had left Sunnydale, but now he wondered if that had been such a good idea. Angel hated nosing around in other people's affairs, but the last thing he wanted to see was Doyle hurt. (Xander was an entirely different matter.) Sighing, he turned his full attention back to the road.

Xander, however, sitting in the backseat, was able to keep his mind completely absorbed by thoughts of a naked Doyle. He let his eyes trace the seer's profile, lingering especially on the luscious lips, and was about to move down to what he could see of Doyle's chest when the half-demon turned in his seat and met Xander's eyes. They stared at each other, want and need suddenly brought to the forefront once again. The scent of their arousal increased sharply, and Angel shifted in his seat, muttering something unintelligible. Doyle shifted his eyes away from his lover to his boss, raising an eyebrow at the vampire's abrupt bad-humor.

"What intersection are we looking for again?" Angel wanted to head the younger man off before he could ask what was wrong.

"Corner of Wilkens and Joh Avenue. Should be getting pretty close to it by now. In the vision, there was some kind of building, like a factory or warehouse. It was too fast for me to see the details. But there probably aren't too many big places like that around here." They were driving through a commercial district of strip malls and empty lots.

"There! That's it!" They had zoomed through the intersection the first time, making Angel double back and go through it more slowly again. The streets were nearly deserted at 2 a.m., so they were able to drive carefully around the area near where the streets crossed, looking for any building which might have been the one in the vision. Finally Xander pointed out a huge depot where city buses were parked for the night. "Is that it?"

"Yeah, it might be. I'd have to see the inside."

Angel stopped the car outside of the high chain-link fence surrounding the building, then, watching carefully for anyone driving by, they climbed over it one by one.

When Xander misjudged the drop, landed heavily and almost fell, Doyle grabbed him tightly. Instead of letting him go once he had gotten his balance, however, the half-demon held onto Xander's shoulders, leaning in closer -

Angel cleared his throat loudly as he turned away. Sighing, Doyle let the younger man go and turned to walk beside the vampire, keeping his heightened demon senses alert to anything of a possibly malevolent nature.

The metal door which led into the hangar-like building was locked, of course. A couple of swift kicks from Angel later, it was merely a piece of broke metal, laying crumpled on the concrete floor of the garage. "Well," observed Xander dryly, "I sure hope this is the right place." Angel blithely ignored him and entered the dark enclosure.

Without the benefit of a light, the inside of the garage was pitch black to Xander's weak eyes. He stumbled against Doyle twice before the Irishman grabbed his hand and led him carefully into the interior.

A sound off to their left made all three of them turn sharply, although Xander still couldn't see anything and Doyle was only slightly better off.

"Demon," Angel informed them.

"You can see it?" Xander whispered.

"I can smell it."

They fell silent as the muffled noise they had heard before was repeated, followed by a loud scraping of metal against concrete. Even though they knew the demon was there, it still took them all completely by surprise when something large and heavy came flying out of the dark and attacked them.

Angel was the first to react, drawing the fighting axe he had brought with him and swinging it at the enemy he could see clearly. Doyle could see enough to draw his own crossbow, but was unable to get in a decent shot with Angel and the unknown demon circling each other.

Xander, meanwhile, had walked back to the door they had come in and was feeling around for a light switch to the right and left of it. Finally, he felt his finger brush over something which jutted out from the flatness of the wall, and an instant later the room was bathed in blinding light.

The demon was ugly. Also huge. It stood at least nine feet high, and it's body appeared to be made out of nothing but oversized bleached bones which had a thin laye of transparent flesh attached at strategic points. Instead of fingers, there were only white claws. In one of those claws, it held a sword that was identical to the one back at Angel's apartment. "Damn," Doyle swore when he saw that, realizing its significance.

"What?" the teenager asked, still clueless.

"The sword. We can't hurt the demon as long as it has that sword. The only way we can kill it is with the other one, back in the office."

"So let's go get it, then."

"We can't leave the demon here, it might be halfway across the city before we get back. You go."

Xander was sure he had misheard. "What?"

"Angel and I can fight it, hold it here. You go get the sword, bring it back, and we finish it off."

"You want me to drive Angel's car?"

Doyle considered. "You're gonna have to. But be careful. If you wreck it, he's gonna kill you."

Without taking his eyes off of the demon in front of him, Angel reached into his pocket and tossed Xander the car keys over his shoulder. "Hurry," was all he said.

The slayerette grabbed the keys and ran back to the car, wishing as he did so that he had said something else to Doyle before he had left. "Be careful", or "good luck", or even, "don't get killed." But he hadn't, and now it was too late.

* * * * * * *

Even hurrying it took Xander forty minutes to get back to the office and another ten to find the sword. It was almost half past three when he headed back to the depot. He just hoped everyone would still be in one piece when he got there.

Part Six

By the time Xander made his way back, Doyle and Angel were both exhausted from trying to keep the demon from leaving the building and wrecking havoc over the greater Los Angeles area. Still, it was there, and when Xander tossed the sword to Angel, the vampire was only too happy to set to work in really kicking the demon's ass.

By the time the fighting was over, the sun was nearly up, but the streets were still thankfully deserted that early on a Sunday morning. Doyle slid behind the wheel and immediately put the top up on the black convertible, allowing Angel to climb in back, with his leather coat over him, and be relatively safe from the sun. Xander, yawning, sat hunched in the passenger seat, struggling vainly not to fall asleep. Doyle noticed the battle and grinned at the teenager. "You and me both. Right now I'm thinkin get home, hot shower, then sleep. But I might skip the shower part and head right for the sack. It won't be the first time I've fallen asleep with demon bits in my hair."

Xander smiled back and was about to reply when he was cut off by the voice drifting up from the backseat. "Nobody gets to sleep until we've destroyed these swords."

"What? Angel man, you've gotta be kidding. Look, we'll do it right after we take a nap, okay?"

"We do it *now*, Doyle. There'll be others after them soon. In fact, there probably already are. We don't have any time to waste."

Doyle sighed, knowing his boss was right. He had really been looking forward to crawling in bed with Xander and just holding the other man while they slept the day away. He should have realized that a fantasy so pure and good as that wouldn't last five minutes around their demon-fighting operation. He watched as Xander slowly lost the fight for alertness, falling asleep with his head against the window, looking for all the world as innocent and untouched by the things he had doubtless seen in his years of battling evil. And also sexy as hell. The half-demon's thoughts were pleasantly occupied for the rest of the drive.

Arriving at Angel's apartment, Doyle manages to park under an overhang so that Angel doesn't have to scramble too much from the car to the safety of inside. Xander sleepily followed, sitting down at the kitchen table and resting his head on his folded arms. "What are we doing?" he asked tiredly.

Angel, meanwhile, was already pulling books off the shelves. "First we need to find a spell that will destroy these swords, or at least send them to another world. They have proved impossible to destroy in the past, which is why they've been around for so long. That's why we're going to have to be creative in the spell we choose. Then we perform it. Nothing really complicated, I hope."

"Who performs it?"

"Well, I can, or Doyle. I've had a little experience with magick during the past few years." With that, he handed a large stack of books to each of the other men. "Get started on these. I'm going to cleanse the swords - I'm pretty certain that we can't do any rituals of they've got dried blood all over them."

Xander grumbled a little about the research detail, but fell silent when Angel glared at him. All of them were tired, and the teenager suddenly knew that he did not want to see how cranky the vampire could get when he was worn-out, soul or no soul.

For the next several hours, the only sound in the small apartment was the frequent turning of pages, peppered by the occasional question from Xander about certain terms. Once he had finished cleaning the weapons, Angel had sat down and begun researching as well.

Finally, Doyle let out an pleased exclamation. "I think I've got something here. A spell for the removal of unwanted objects. You think that might work?"

Angel stood and came to look over his shoulder, reading the spell. "It might." He frowned. "But I'm not sure it's enough. We want to destroy them, too. It's no good if we just remove them and have them pop up someplace else soon."

"What about this?" Xander asked, showing them a page from the book he was holding. "It's a transmutation spell. We can change them into something else, then send them away."

Angel barely glanced at the boy as he grabbed the book from him. "Good." Reading over the two spells, he decided it was possible to combine them, especially since neither of them required anything that he didn't already have. "Doyle, you get started on drawing this circle and these designs on the floor over there. Xander, you and I need to start getting the ingredients ready for this."

An hour later, everything was set up. By now it was nearly noon, and everyone involved simply wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible so they could go to sleep.

The two swords were placed within the circle, with Doyle holding one book and Angel holding the other. Doyle read the spell for changing them first; then, once they had become a shapeless blob of matter, Angel read the spell that would send them into another, perhaps parallel, universe, and Xander added the necessary herbs for the spell to take hold. After a suitably bright flash of light, there was nothing within the circle but a wisp of smoke.

Xander sat down heavily on Angel's couch and closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep in an instant. He was annoyed at finding his shoulders shaken insistently by Doyle, who, he found upon opening his eyes, was standing directly in front of him. "Come back to my apartment, you can sleep there."

Xander sighed and glanced at his watch with a groan. "Actually, I can't sleep anywhere. I need to go back to Cordelia's and pick up my stuff. My bus for Sunnydale leaves in an hour."

Doyle looked just as upset to hear this news as the teenager was to realize it. The Irishman quickly rallied, though, and turned his piercing gaze to Angel.

The vampire sighed. "Take my car," he said, waving a hand over to the keys sitting on the table.

The ride to Cordy's was silent, the fact that neither knew what to say compounded by their extreme exhaustion and frustration over how the weekend had turned out. Doyle sat in the car while Xander ran in to retrieve his bag, after having the door opened by a hopeful Cordelia who was disappointed to know that Xander had been out all night killing a demon instead of getting laid. Still, she was pragmatic about it, glad at least that her ex-boyfriend had had some non-demon slaying moments while in LA. They made plans to talk on the phone soon, and Xander was running back to the car.

The trip from her apartment to the bus station was just as silent, but less uncomfortable. "You know," Doyle said as they pulled up under the Greyhound sign, "I could just drive you all the way home, seeing as how I've got the car and all."

Xander smiled. "Nah. We're both so tired that you'll probably just get into an accident either going there or coming back, and I don't particularly want either one of us to die today. Besides, I already have my bus ticket."

"Right. Well then, I guess this is it."

"Yeah. We'll have to meet somewhere less demony next time. I'm sick of being interrupted."

Doyle nodded. "Me, too. Is it okay if I call you, then?"

Xander stared at him. "You'd better."

Hesitating only a little, the teenager leaned over to the older man and kissed him full on the mouth, slowly introducing his tongue and weaving it around Doyle's own. After a minute, they were forced to pull apart in order to breathe.

With that, Xander grabbed his bag and hopped out of the car, throwing a smile over his shoulder as he did so.