AUTHOR: Janet
E-MAIL: tinklepaw@hotmail.com or tori@cyberspace.org
DISCLAIMER: Everyone belongs to Joss Whedon and all those XF folk who write,
produce and direct A:TS, wisely defected to the show that is, from the show
that was.
FEEDBACK: only my second post, so PLEASE! is an understatement.
RATING: G
SPOILERS: Small reference to the Angel ep with his Childe Penn
CATEGORY: Doyle/Cordelia, but kinda also A/C
SUMMARY: fluff really...maybe a hint of a dark side to Doyle, cause it's
there, trust me, I'm Irish
DISTRIBUTION: anywhere, ask first?
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Doyle's around, he's dating Cordy, but this is part of a
series that will ultimately be A/C, cause well...it's inevitable
DEDICATION: This is for Kelly, who is such a cool friend she takes time out
from triplets with the flu to read fic for a ship she isn't yet aboard, and
pointed out (sigh) that Angel doesn't call Cordelia 'Cordy', yet.
Cordelia tilted her head to one side as she surveyed the scene before her.
Angel was prone on the floor under her desk, a sharp implement in his hand,
eyes narrowed in concentration. Doyle was on his knees at his side,
unraveling what looked like miles of cabling that entangled them both.
"Guys, I'm late for my audition. Are you going to be ok?"
"You want a ride Princess?"
Cordelia looked distracted for a second.
"What? Oh, no...that's ok...where's my lipstick? _Angel_! That's
Maybelline's finest frosty plum! It is NOT a suitable prop to hold up the
table!"
Angel smiled sheepishly up at Cordelia as he handed her the lipstick, then
covertly substituted it with her mascara. Her make up kit was the only
thing he could reach from his current position, and he needed to hold up the
table just enough to run the wire under it.
"Okay, see you guys later, be good!"
She disappeared outside into the sunshine. Doyle and Angel turned their
attention to installing the wiring for a discreet little alarm button under
Cordy's desk. The fact that Penn had been alone with her for so long, with
Angel oblivious downstairs, had bothered him a lot. Especially since he
spent so much of the day asleep. This way if anyone came in while Cordelia
was up here alone she just had to quietly press the button and he'd be
there.
He and Doyle worked well together, and in an hour it was all but finished,
the wiring hidden from view by a well placed potted plant. They were about
to test it when they were interrupted by the telephone, Doyle grabbed the
receiver.
"Angel Investigations...hopeless 'n all that"
Angel mock-glared at Doyle who shrugged with a trademark grin, then his face
changed as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line.
"Uh...Cordelia left already...ok, bye."
He hung up, a frown creased his features.
"Doyle?"
"That was for Cordy...where did she say she was going again?"
"An audition. 3pm. Yogurt."
"Right. That was Los Altos Medical Center - they wanted Cordelia to come
back for her purse, which she left there, after her 3 o'clock appointment."
Angel's brow furrowed.
"I guess that's why she didn't want you to give her a ride."
"Why would she lie? I don't get that."
Doyle looked like he couldn't decide whether to be hurt and worried, or just
mad. Angel put a hand on his shoulder for a second.
"Don't worry about it Doyle - maybe she had a routine check up or
something."
"Angel - no offense man, but since when did her health insurance cover
routine check ups? And I know she has no money to spare. Something's going
on, I should just go there, maybe she needs me."
Angel shook his head.
"It's none of our business, and if you confront her you'll scare her. Just
let her tell us in her own time. Come on - let's see if we can't fix up
this mess before she gets back."
Doyle nodded reluctantly.
"It's just - she's my girlfriend, shouldn't we talk about stuff like that?"
Angel looked a little irritated.
"It's only been a few weeks Doyle, it's not like you're engaged, she's
entitled to privacy."
"It's been over a month-"
"And this is LA, it's not Ireland, Cordelia isn't going to take kindly to
too much possessiveness. You don't own her."
Doyle opened his mouth to protest, then stopped, puzzled by Angel's
hostility on the subject. Maybe it was difficult for Angel now that he and
Cordy were dating, a little awkward maybe. He decided to let it go for now.
They tested out the buzzer, it worked perfectly. Cordelia breezed in just
as Angel was coming back up in the elevator.
"Hey guys."
Doyle slouched against the desk watching his girlfriend.
"So how was the audition?"
"Fine, I think...I dunno, never been a huge yogurt fan, until today of
course."
She shrugged and flashed a big smile at Doyle.
He folded his arms across his chest.
"You got your bag then?"
"What? Oh yeah, left it behind, must have been nervous."
She paused for a second, looking at Doyle curiously. Regarding the pair
from the elevator Angel felt his heart sink. Doyle was pushing too far, and
the scene could get unpleasant very fast.
"How did you know I..."
Angel broke in, stepping between them.
"Y'know, I was thinking, today - when I was on the floor, that we should
really do something about the ceiling in here."
They stared at him. "The ceiling?"
"Yeah - look - it's got this great little ornate thing going on in the
corners, but it's all dusty and dirty, and we could clean it up, maybe get a
coat of paint - it just doesn't look very professional."
"Hmm, you're right..."
Cordelia and Angel eyed the ceiling critically.
Doyle sighed. "Right then. I'll go pick up paint 'n whatever."
He left abruptly, slamming the door. Cordelia looked after him then turned
to look up at Angel.
"What's going on? Did you guys lose the battle with the wiring?"
"Uh...no, it works great...why don't you go downstairs and I'll show you."
Cordy complied, but still looked a little unsettled.
She reached the basement just as the buzzer went off. Angel appeared a few
moments later.
"Well?"
"Hmm yes, very buzzy."
Angel looked at her for a second, considering his words carefully. He was
just as concerned as Doyle about the mysterious Doctor's appointment, but he
was very aware of overstepping boundaries. He didn't want Cordelia to feel
pressured in any way.
"Cordelia, are you feeling ok? I mean, I know we've been working long
hours recently, often through the night, and things can get pretty scary
sometimes..."
She favored him with a classic Cordelia what-are-you-smoking stare. Angel
faltered.
"I mean...well...it's just, if it was getting too much, if you need a
break, I'd understand."
Her expression dissolved into hurt. She blinked and looked down for a
second. Angel's heart plummeted.
"I didn't mean that, Cordy, I don't want you to take a break...I mean, I- I
just worry about you, that's all, am I working you too hard? You'd tell me
right?"
He dipped his head a little and peered at her from under lowered lashes,
slipping into vulnerable-face, hoping she wasn't mad, or worse still hurt by
his clumsy words. It worked. She came over to him and placed a hand on his
arm.
"I'm fine, Angel. I'd tell you if I wasn't, c'mon you know that!"
He smiled at her in relief and placed his hand over hers.
"Do you know something Angel?"
"What?" he breathed, affected by her nearness.
"That's the first time you called me Cordy."
She held his gaze for a second, then turned and went back into the
elevator.
"Oh, and Angel?"
He followed her, lacing his fingers through the mesh of the elevator gate.
"Yes?"
"Save the puppy dog eyes for the blonds."
**********
Doyle returned, his arms full of painting equipment and cleaning chemicals.
They set to work in the dwindling daylight, standing on impromptu towers of
chairs and the desk, until Cordelia fluttered her eyelashes at the dentist
next door and procured a ladder. She disappeared downstairs to search for
sheets to cover the furniture, which resulted in a good natured skirmish
with Angel regarding exactly why he only owned really expensive fabric that
couldn't possibly have paint-drop adornments. There was a brief tussle, a
loud rip, and thus Angel now owned a sheet that could best be used to cover
the furniture. By now the ceiling was clear of dust and cobwebs, and they
were ready to begin painting.
"I want a turn!"
"Princess, I thought you were gonna hold the ladder for me."
"It's boring. There's only so long I can stare at your butt for. Let me
up there!"
"Hey does that mean I get to stare at your butt instead? I suddenly like
this plan!"
Cordelia raised a provocative eyebrow at Doyle as he descended the ladder,
smirking.
"Fine. Whatever. I want the roller thing."
He handed her the paint roller, unable to keep the grin from his face.
Angel watched them from his perch atop the chair-desk tower, trying to shake
the irrational sense of unease which filled him. Cordy grabbed the roller
and climbed the steps, pausing to drip paint onto Doyle's upturned face.
"Hey! No fair, I'm pale enough thanks!"
Cordelia giggled, and climbed higher. She reached the top rung and blinked
a few times.
"High ceilings. That's good I think, in my parent's house, before..."
Angel watched as her grip on the top of the ladder tightened as she tried to
straighten up to reach the roller to the ceiling. It never made it, nor did
she finish her sentence. Instead she swayed a little and her eyes became
unfocused.
"Cordelia!"
Doyle glanced at Angel, alarmed by the fear in his voice. Cordelia dropped
her hand with the roller to her side and let her head fall forward to rest
against her white knuckled grip on the ladder.
"Doyle - she's going to fall!"
Doyle was already rapidly ascending the ladder. He caught Cordelia around
the waist as her limp body began to fall backwards, and just managed to hold
on to absorb the inertia of her fall without losing his own grip. The
ladder threatened to topple but Angel had leapt to the ground and caught it
firmly.
"Doyle? Have you got her?"
"It's okay man, just give me a second."
He slowly came down two steps, his body shaking with sudden adrenaline.
"Doyle - let me take her, okay, careful."
Angel gently lifted Cordelia from Doyle's unsteady grasp, taking her into
his arms as Doyle all but slid down the rest of the ladder, and collapsed at
the bottom.
"Man. That was," Doyle paused to catch his breath "close. And scary."
Angel lowered himself to the floor beside Doyle. He cradled Cordelia in his
lap, not taking his eyes off her.
"Cordelia? Cordy?"
She blinked. "Angel? What... happened?"
Her eyes closed again as if the effort of keeping them open was too much.
It was Doyle who answered her, leaning in.
"You must have passed out love. Maybe climbed too quickly, or it's the
paint fumes or something. Gave us quite a scare."
Her eyes opened and met Angel's worried frown.
"I'm ok, just...got dizzy, I guess... I'm sorry, guys."
Her voice was a little breathless, but the color was returning to her
cheeks, and she tried to sit up. Angel moved so his hand supported her
lower back and he helped her up, then to lean back against his chest.
"Easy, take it slow."
His murmur was low, his whole demeanor badly shaken. For his part Doyle
felt like his nerves had shattered, it had happened so fast, if she'd
fallen...
he reached over and took her hand, squeezing it tenderly.
"Are you ok Princess?"
Cordy nodded.
"Just need to sit here for a moment, I don't know what came over me. Paint
fumes maybe?"
"Cordelia - did you eat anything today?"
She squirmed uncomfortably in Angel's arms, and didn't answer.
"Cordy?"
She sighed dramatically.
"Ok, so maybe I skipped lunch."
"And breakfast?"
Angel's quiet tone made her squirm all the more.
"Maybe, but hello? I can't go to a _yogurt_ audition fat! Anyway that's
not why I got dizzy. It was paint fumes, and cleaning chemical nastiness,
that's all. I'm fine now."
To prove her point she pulled away from Angel and got to her feet, a little
unsteadily.
"See? Now can we do more ceiling before the paint dries up?"
Angel and Doyle had followed Cordy up, hovering anxiously in case she showed
any signs of swaying again. But she stood her ground determinedly.
Beside him, Angel felt Doyle tense up and knew he was about to confront
Cordy, his fear for her intermingled with tension, confusion, and a shade of
anger. Not a good combination. Especially with Cordelia still a little
shaky.
Doyle's jaw was set as he took a step forward, reaching out to cup her
elbow.
"What's going on Cordelia?"
She looked at him, surprised by the intensity of the question.
"Nothing's going on. I'm okay now."
"You're lying."
He spat out the accusation.
"I don't like being lied to Cordelia, especially not when it's my
girlfriend."
She stared at him in amazement.
"Doyle, I...I'm not lying, and nothing's going on, I don't know what you're
talking about - maybe you had too much paint fumes too!"
Her attempt at a smile faded when she met his eyes again. They were hard
and unyielding. She looked to Angel, bewildered. He heard her silent plea
for intervention, and put a gentle hand on Doyle's shoulder.
"Doyle, this isn't the time or the place. Let's get Cordelia downstairs
and into bed or something, and we'll talk about it when we've calmed down."
"Oh I'm calm." His tone was icy. "And Cordelia here's just fine
apparently, just *peachy*."
Cordy's eyes widened in shock, and just a little fear now. His grip
tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, just to assert his hold.
"What's _wrong_ Doyle? You're scaring me, stop it!"
The tremor in her voice broke through Doyle's anger and he dropped his hand,
and his eyes. Angel's even tone quietly insinuated itself into the tension
between them.
"Let's go downstairs, have some coffee or something, okay?"
They nodded. Pale and unsteady on her feet, Cordy brushed past them and
disappeared into the elevator. Doyle and Angel stood for a moment.
"Look man, I appreciate your help, but I'd rather deal with her alone,
maybe she'll talk if it's just me y'know?"
Angel privately disagreed, but couldn't be sure if he wasn't just
uncomfortable with accepting the new relationship between his two best
friends, and didn't want to believe that she would tell Doyle stuff she
couldn't or wouldn't tell Angel.
"Ok, but... go easy on her ok?"
He nodded tacitly.
"No, Doyle I _mean_ it. Tone it down. Way down. You had us both pretty
nervous a moment ago, and she's not up for handling hostility like that
right now."
"I get it Angel." He held up his hands. "I overreacted - I was scared -
kid gloves from now on."
Angel sighed in relief.
"I'll wait up here then, paint a ceiling. Make sure she eats something."
**********
Downstairs Doyle settled Cordy in bed with some water. He was helping her
take off her cardigan when he noticed something else that made his blood
chill. He leaned over and closed his hand around her wrist, then gently
turned her arm until the little band aid in the crook of her elbow was on
display.
"Where did you go today Cordy?"
She took a deep breath.
"Ok, I'll tell you, but you gotta promise not to tell Angel, 'kay?"
He nodded. She waited, so he made a little cross-my-heart sign, then she
seemed satisfied.
"I went to the clinic - they were having a blood drive, and ok, I KNOW it's
dumb, cause I _know_ Angel goes to the abatoire, not hospitals, but I just
feel like, like...I dunno, that since I work for a vampire, it's kinda my
duty?"
She shrugged and looked up at Doyle sheepishly. He just stared.
"You gave blood?"
She nodded.
"And...that's it? You gave blood?"
"Well, yeah. No big deal. I kinda lied a little when they asked if I had
a dangerous occupation, but that's all. Oh and I guess I got a little bit
fuzzy on the ladder cause I didn't eat anything today - but Hello? Mellow
Melba - I can't be fat for a _yogurt_ audition!"
Doyle sat down heavily on the bed.
"So you did have an audition?"
"Course! What did you think I just made that up?"
"No! Well, maybe - the clinic called us when you left your bag - we were
worried Princess."
He hugged her suddenly.
"I'm so glad you're ok, I should tell Angel right away - I know he's just
as frighten-"
"No! I can't tell Angel! It's....icky, it's too....like well if I wanted
to help why go to a clinic, when he's right here needing blood, but"
She didn't need to finish, an involuntary shudder ran through Doyle at the
image suddenly in his head.
"Ok, ok...we won't tell him, I see your point, could be a tad awkward."
He shifted on the bed and gathered her into his arms once more.
"Don't ever scare me like that again sweetheart. I couldn't stand it And
you've got to eat something."
He pulled back and carefully looked his girlfriend over.
"Did it hurt?"
She shook her head, touched by his concern.
"How do you feel now? Still dizzy?"
"No, I'm fine Doyle, I really am. I did it before - in High School, as
soon as we were old enough because we had a theory that it would help us
lose weight...but then after..."
She paused, remembering the dark time in hospital after being impaled, the
concomitant events of breaking up with Xander and consequent loss of her
tenuous acceptance into the Scooby gang, and even while she was waiting,
months, even years later, for results of blood tests to see if she had
developed any nasty infection, around her the world was crumbling, thanks to
the IRS...everything was connected, and it was the last thing she wanted to
think about, much less talk about.
...well, I couldn't again until now."
Doyle seemed to accept that. Another hug, then he went to fetch some food
for her, and she wrapped her arms around her knees, feeling loved, feeling
accepted, and _needed_. God she loved LA.
***********
After a little while sitting with Cordy, stealing her chips, stealing
kisses, and just generally reassuring himself that she was indeed perfectly
fine, Doyle returned upstairs.
"Everything ok?"
Angel's inquiry was carefully casual, he didn't look down from the ceiling
when Doyle came in.
"Uh yeah - she's fine, completely fine. We talked. I don't think she
wants me to go into details, but it's really nothing Angel. She just needed
to eat something."
Angel seemed to blithely accept this. He kept on painting. In truth he was
more assured of Cordy's health by Doyle's relaxed manner, and the absence of
even a trace of tension in his voice. But it still disturbed him to not be
party to the 'details' - since when could she not trust him? He sighed
inwardly. Rationally he understood that building intimacy in a relationship
naturally involved the exclusion of others. But what he didn't like was
admitting that there really was the beginnings of a serious relationship
there. And he didn't like being the 'other' that defined the couplehood of
his two best friends in the world.
They worked together on the ceiling. Not speaking, but falling into an easy
rhythm, so absorbed that they didn't even notice when Cordelia appeared.
It was a warm evening, and apparently warm work, they both had taken their
shirts off, and their chests and hair were flaked with paint. She stood at
the top of the stairs, watching them work, sub-consciously touching her
fingertips to her lips.
Finally she could resist no more, and let out a low appreciative whistle.
"Cordelia!"
"Hi guys, love the paint job."
She grinned, her eyes on them rather than the ceiling.
"Shouldn't you be resting Princess?"
"I'm bored. Can't I stay up here and help you?"
"How are you feeling?"
Angel's voice was quiet, but his eyes were intense and hooded as he came
over to her. It was all Cordy could do to resist reaching out just one
finger to touch his finely sweat sheened chest. She dragged her eyes up to
his face and the concern there surprised her. Compromising, she reached for
his hand instead.
"I'm fine Angel."
Doyle came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist.
"Ok, Angel and I can do the ceiling though. You, and the ice-cream in the
fridge, are going to go rest."
Cordy tried her best to pout, but Doyle was insistent, and Angel looked
ready to pick her up again at the first sign of resistance, so she agreed,
and was soon installed in Angel's office, away from the paint fumes, but
within earshot if she needed anything. Not that anyone needs anything more
than chocolate mint peanut butter crunch Cordelia mused. Well, that and the
devoted attentions of a couple of gorgeous men didn't hurt either. She
sighed happily.
The End
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