Part Eleven Of
THE PARADISE SERIES
By Bitch Willow
Rating: PG 13 for slash. Yay, my very first real slash!
Classification: Mentions of W/S, but mostly Tristan/Doyle
Disclaimer: I don't own Doyle or Cordy, I do own Tristan.
Summary: Tristan comes to visit Doyle in the middle of the night.
"Doyle? Can you close up tonight?" Cordelia ran into the office with a pained look on her face. "It's just, I have a date, and Angel's already out and you know how freaky he gets when we don't lock up, so could you..."
The Irishman sighed. "Yeah, whatever you want Princess. Go have fun."
Cordy looked at him closely. "Are you okay, Doyle? You didn?t make a smart-ass remark about the quality of men I date."
Doyle sat up with a quick grin. "If it makes you happy... 'All the men you date are scum, and you should stick to someone like, oh, I dunno...me?' " He repeated an oft-said monologue. "There, ya happy?"
"Quite." The brunette grabbed her coat and headed for the door. "Now, I'll see you tomorrow, and if you have an visions, don't call me. 'Kay? Bye." The door crashed shut behind her.
Doyle stretched and sighed. Just as well. The absent-minded wanna-be starlet meant well when she tried to lock up, but she always did something like...oh, leave the coffeemaker on, or the welcome mat out. Never knew how many vampires could walk in from that little mistake.
He got up to close the back door, when he suddenly felt a presence behind him. He froze, leaning his head against the door for support. "Tristan." He kept his head turned away until he could control his erratic breathing.
"Francis." The other demon's voice was heavy with love and regret. "How are you?"
Doyle turned to face him. Yeah, the bastard hadn't changed a bit. Same eternally youthful face, same curly blond hair, same little boy charm oozing from every pore. He resisted the urge to run over and hug the other man. "I'm good. Although, it's just Doyle now."
"Doyle." Tristan ran it over his tongue as though he were tasting an exotic fruit. "I've never called you that before. When you were in Ireland, it was Allen."
"Yeah, well. A lot's changed since then. When I was in Ireland, I was human." He threw that at the other man, both enjoying and hating the flinch it put on his face. "When I was in Ireland, I wasn't having skull-cracking visions. Ya heard about those? They're a real bitch, I'll tell ya." He crossed the room to the coffee maker, dutifully ignoring Tristan and pouring himself a glass of scotch.
Still the bastard tried to talk to him. "You were never human, Fra--" He cut himself off, biting his lip. "Doyle. You were always a demon. You just never realized it."
Doyle spun around. "And would I have 'realized it' if you hadn't come rolling into my life?"
Tris shrugged, trying to cover up his inner turmoil. "Probably, eventually." He smiled fondly at Doyle. "You really shouldn't drink that stuff, you know."
He shrugged, throwing back another slug. "?Just tryin' to conform to stereotype. So, what is it? Got a message for me from the PTB?"
"Just visiting."
"Oh." Doyle poured another glass. "A social visit, eh? So how's the situation with Willow and that vampire? Still cracklin' with sexual tension?" Doyle grinned lecherously and pulled up a chair, gesturing for Tristan to do the same.
Tristan bit his lip, grabbing a chair from a nearby desk and sitting on it. "It's...heated up nicely. Or, badly, actually. For us, anyway. Lower Beings tried to tempt him into killing her, but all he did was kiss her." Tristan rolled his eyes at the irony of his statement. "Big trouble there. They're not even speaking at the moment. We're trying to cool it down at the moment, but the Slayer's awfully close to figuring it out. Which means that our blackmail could become null and void, which means..."
"That Spike retreats to the dark side," Doyle finished.
"Or gets dusted. Which I hope doesn't happen, cause for a soulless bastard, he's a pretty nice guy. How's yours doing??
"Good. Killin' the demons, savin' the damsels...same old, same old." He sighed. "But really, Tris. Why are you here?"
The blue-eyed demon looked down, then up at the Irishman in front of him. "I wanted to check up on you," he said honestly.
< God. > Doyle flinched. Every time he saw Tris, it was like all the old feelings came pouring back. And it hurt. ?That?s sweet,? he said honestly, ?but I gotta say, Tris...this is hard for me. Seeing you, here, when I have friends and...potential. It?s really hard.?
?Potential?? Tris questioned. Then he nodded. ?Ah, yes. Cordelia,? he said, nodding towards the door. He turned back towards Doyle. ?I don?t mind you having ?potential.? And I wouldn?t mind you having a relationship. I know that you haven?t seen anyone else since we...?
Doyle?s green eyes hardened. ?You been keepin? tabs on me??
The blond man smiled guiltily. ?I?m sorry. But...I worry. I have to.?
?Appreciated.? Doyle stood up angrily. ?But I can take care of myself. And my not seein? anyone? Has as much to do with me as it does with you.?
?What do you mean??
He searched for the words to say exactly what it was that he meant. Finally, he said,? Remember how I killed my ?dad?? ? Tristan nodded. ?Well, snappin? his neck like I did?it was so bloody easy. And I have to wonder...if I got involved with a girl, and we got into a fight, would it be that easy with her? Or, with some guy I meet on the street who wants to get me into bed?? He shook his head. ?Naw, man. I can?t be with someone ?til I know my demon well enough to control it.?
Tris approached him with a gentleness rarely seen on his boyish face. ?You are the demon, Doyle. And you lost control one time. One time,? he stressed. ?And you?re atoning. Your visions?they?re part of it.?
?So you do know about those.?
Tristan looked down guiltily. ?Yes. I?m...I?m the one who sends them.? Doyle looked up in anger, with a muffled cry, and Tristan moved back. ?It was the only job I could get to keep an eye on you. That?s why a demon of my station is taking care of a wretch like Spike. I?m sorry.?
?Don?t be.? Doyle?s voice was soft but understanding. ?And I appreciate it, I do. I...miss you.?
?I miss you too.? They looked long and hard at each other, until finally Tristan came up to Doyle, putting his arms around the shorter man. He rested his chin on the top of Doyle?s head. ?I wish it was easy. But...we?re demons. We make mistakes, and we atone. We go against out very nature, atoning. We were made to kill, and instead we fall in love with each other. And then we hurt each other. And I?m sorry, really I am, for exposing your demon side when you were too young to control it. But I can?t be sorry for meeting you. For loving you.?
Doyle held the other man tightly, listening to his heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Under his left ear. He sighed, gathered his strength, and pulled away. He drew in a shaky breath. ?Well, it?s nice seein? you again, Tris, but I gotta close up.? Tris turned away, shaking the black tears from his eyes, and Doyle grabbed his wrist. ?Come visit anytime,? he said, his accent even more pronounced in his earnest request.
Tris nodded, then leaned in slowly to kiss him, giving him abundant time to back away. Instead, Doyle leaned in and caught the other man?s lower lip between his teeth. Tris hissed and backed away, laughing.
?You always did know how to get to me, Doyle.? He said it jokingly, but his voice was husky.
?I...? Doyle had a hard time finishing. ?I do love you, Tris.? When it came it was like a blessing. Freeing.
Tris nodded. ?I love you too.? He caught the curve of Doyle?s chin in his hand. ?You and Cordy have my blessing.? He kissed him again, softly, on the lips, then backed away, holding out his hand. ?So, friends??
Doyle laughed heartily. ?Friends.? They shook on it, then Tristan headed out the door.
He did not look back.
Doyle sat down at the desk, pouring himself another drink and staring at it, the amber liquid coating the inside of the glass as he rolled it around. He heard a bang outside the office doors and grinned.
?That?s my Tris,? he said fondly. ?Can never just make a simple exit.? Then he looked down at the glass in his hand. ?He?s right, though. This stuff?s no good for me.?
He drank the entire glass down.
THE END
Bleak, I know. I do believe I?ve lost my sense of romance. *sigh* More W/S next time.