The Method

Disclaimer: Cordelia and Doyle aren't mine. Although the Holiday's ARE
coming up, they'd make a lovely gift. Anyway, the characters aren't mine
but I'm just borrowing them and I'll give them back in one piece.
Notes: Playing around with this being part of a much larger, and much
DARKER, series that would look into Doyle's past and some other stuff. But
this is really a stand alone.
Feedback: Mail makes me happy. Drop me a note if you like it, or if you
just don't hate it.

"So, what's my motivation," Doyle said, leafing through the script Cordelia
had just thrown at him. He hadn't thought a girl like her would have an arm
like that, or such great aim.

"Wrath incurment, eh?" he teased lowering his eyes slowly down her body as
she paced away from him. As she turned to face him she moved her eyes back
up to her eyes. Not that she was even paying attention to him right now. Or
ever for that matter. "You know, incurring your wrath could be rather
nice."

She leveled a gaze at her that she hadn't used in months. It was a look
usually reserved for ex-boyfriends and rude salespeople. But Doyle didn't
crumble beneath it's power, in fact he seemed to enjoy it. He actually
smiled. "I knew I should have gone to Angel for help," she conceded as she
began pacing again.

"Angel? Come on Cordy," she rolled her eyes as he used her childhood
nickname, "Angel can't help you with acting. He has the personality of a
desk lamp."

"At least he'd actually run the lines with me!" This audition was important
to her, more than any of the others. It would represent the hundredth
audition she had gone to. Most of the times they dismissed her as soon as
the looked her over, an experience she wasn't used to. More than the ego
scaring, Cordelia also had to deal with the delicate problem of finances.
As in the fact she had none. It was helping now that Angel was finally
paying her, but it never seemed to be enough. Between the apartment and her
agents fees, the cost for her head shots and acting lessons, and those
annoying bills. Why do they make you pay for water; it's not like it's
costing them anything!

At the end of the day her checkbook hovered near in the low double digits
and two of her credit cards were maxed out. This role would help out a lot
to fixing both her self esteem and her bank account.

"Okay," Doyle said, "I'll help you. What is this anyway?" She bit her
bottom lip and shrugged. "I'd rather not talk about it," she said.

"It's not porn, is it? Not that I have any fundamental problem with
that..."

Cordelia faced him with her hand on her hip, the slit in her long black
skirt opening up to the middle of her thigh. Doyle her off a little groan
at the sight of her long legs, but they didn't stay still long. She began
pacing again. "Is that how you keep so thin?" he asked, "Power pacing?"

Cordelia rolled her neck left and right. She looked at Doyle and pursed her
lips, a little trait that always happened when she was particularly deep in
thought. She rolled her bottom lip into her mouth and bit it lightly.
'Look, I'm going to tell you this, but you can't make fun of me."

"Cordelia," he said, his accent embracing the name, "I wouldn't do that to
you, I promise."

She stared at her feet, which she shuffled back and forth over the cold
concrete floor. "Okay, it's a soap opera. I'm auditioning for a stupid soap
opera."

He made a face but hid it under a broad smile. "I think that's great! Look
at all the people who came from soaps. Parker Poesy, Meg Ryan, Demi Moore,
that annoying guy from Inside the Actor's Studio."

"It's not like it's Shakespeare," she complained, "I'm auditioning for an
amnesiac kleptomaniac who's dating a Mafia hitman. I have lines like this
'I think I love you, but I can't remember?' It totally sucks!"

"Haven't you ever heard that a great actor rises above the material. They
overcome the words and become the character." She cocked her head in
confusion, "Look, I heard about it on the Brando special. It's called
method acting..."

"I know about the method," she said, insulted. "I can do it too. Start on
scene five, that's where I come in."

Doyle flipped through the script until he found the right page. He cleared
his throat and read the first line. " 'Vegas'..." he paused ,"her name is
Vegas? You have to be kidding me!"

"Just read," she said in a tone that mixed compassion with a snapping
urgency.

He repositioned himself on the couch and found the line again. "Vegas, you
look like you've been crying."

"I have" Cordelia said, slightly annoyed. Doyle put down the script and
shook his head. "What's wrong?" she demanded.

"Cordy, you have just been crying. And then someone asks you if your okay
and you snap at them..."

"Hello, that's what I'd do."

"And another piece of the puzzle falls into place," he muttered. He put
down the script and walked over to her. "Look, you have to become the
character, not turn the character into you." She began to slouch, obviously
frustrated with his comments. "I know that she'd be far more interesting if
she was you," he said gently, "but that's not acting. And I know you can do
this. Just find that part in yourself that sympathizes with her."

"The part of myself?"

"Sure. We all have lots of different parts of us. Some far less attractive
than others." It was a lesson Doyle knew quite well. He had learned the
difference between his humanity and his impulse early on. They represented
different faces to him. One was this form he reached for, the simple
mortal. But when he allowed himself to be controlled by his urges the other
face could appear, a part of him that could fall out of control. A part
that threatened to consume all if him if he wasn't careful.

Cordelia did the same thing too, but not in such a dramatic manor. Doyle
had seen past the ice queen exterior the first moment he saw her, but he
still couldn't see what was at her core. She had made so many masks for
herself; roles that she would play to get her through a given situation. He
knew she could be a great talent if she applied those hidden aspects to a
character. But he also knew how frightening it was to truly be yourself; a
combination of all those parts.

Cordelia took a deep breath and sat next to Doyle. He thought she may have
been crying, but there were no tears. She just kept her eyes closed for a
minute while she focused on taking long and even breaths. Just when Doyle
was worried she opened her eyes up. "Let's do it," she said, "I'm ready."

It took the Irish half-demon a moment to return from his own thoughts.
Hearing Cordelia coo the words "Let's do it" sent Doyle into a daydream
that he didn't want to leave. She poked his shoulder, "Earth to Doyle...
are you seeing a vision?"

*A complete vision* he thought as he looked at her. "Sorry, I was just
thinking about something." HE turned the script back to scene five and
repeated the opening line. "Vegas, you look like you've been crying."

Cordelia had closed her posture off, almost curling up into a ball while
standing up. Her whole demeanor had changed. The smile had faded from her
face and was replaced by a blank stare that conveyed complete hopelessness.
"I have" she said in a breathy voice that could hardly be hard over the
noise from the street.

Doyle scanned the page for the next line. "You're much to beautiful to be
crying. Tell me what it is." He stood up while talking and was walking in a
circle around Cordelia. He was amazed by her transformation. e would never
have believed that this girl was threatening a Vampire with a crossbow only
a few weeks earlier.

"You don't care," she said. If Cordelia had said it she would have added a
coyness to it.; as Vegas there was no ulterior motive to the words. "It's
just that I saw Paul and..." She seemed to get shaky here. IT was getting
hard for her to stay like this. Doyle should tell she wanted to stop it all
now and just go back to her normal self. Back to the girl who never needed
anyone and who could never get hurt.

"What is it?" he read.

"I saw Paul and Kelly kissing," she said. As she spoke the line her hand
drifted over her abdomen to where that scar still was. Her acting coaches
were always talking about using your own life for the role, but they never
explained it hurt so much. At this point she didn't care about the role
anymore, but about her own grief. When she saw Xander kissing Willow she
didn't have a chance to deal with it. There were too many other things
going on to take time out to cry over what happened. For a while she
convinced herself that she didn't really care Up until now she had believed
that was the truth. Cordelia knew better now; all the feelings she had
tried to dismiss had were all still living inside her. And now they were
all coming out.

Doyle reached out and squeezed her hand as he looked for the next line.
Only there wasn't a line; it was a stage direction in large letters; TIM
KISSES VEGAS. Doyle gave her hand another squeeze to get her attention.
When she looked up he saw that there were tears now; and they had run down
her face and had stopped on her dark pink lips. He approached her slowly to
allow her ample time to turn away.

Except Cordelia didn't run away. She actually turned her face up to meet
his kiss. He could taste the salty tears from her mouth, he held her face
gently and ran his worn hands on her chin. She had stopped crying, he
realized, she had also moved her hands to his shoulders where she pulled
him closer to him.

*IS this you Cordelia?* he wondered. Slowly he moved his tongue to her
parted lips. Her hands grew tighter on his shoulders as their tongues
rolled around each other. After a minute she began to release her grip on
him. HE went to pull away only to be pulled back with a series of small
kisses.

She continued the pecks, eventually moving from his lips down to he neck
where she let her mouth hold on his pulse; which came so quickly that it
was hard to tell one beat from the next. Cordelia closed her eyes,
realizing that her heart was beating just as fast. A moment of terror
rocked her mind; what had she done? Doyle was a friend and nothing more.
Yes, he flirted with her, but Doyle flirting with anything that wore heels.

Cordelia Chase turned away from him and put on her Cheshire cat smile.
"See, I told you I could do that whole Method acting."

"Acting?" he asked, forgetting the purpose of this little exercise. He put
on his own mask, one to cover his disappointment.

"Yeah, well, I should go. I'm going to be late." She pulled out a tube of
lipstick and applied it without even needing a mirror. Doyle picked her
script up off the floor where he had dropped it. "Thank You," she said as
she pulled the script from his hands, causing him to shiver as they
touched. Without even goodbye Cordelia left, slamming the door behind her.

Doyle walked to the window to catch her coming out downstairs. He watched
her get into the car and licked his lips, still tasting her. "You're going
to take some time Cordelia Chase," he said as he tapped the glass, "But you
will definitely be worth it. Worth everything I've gone through to get
here."