Rated: Hmm... I hate rating stuff R. It makes me feel so dirty! And I hardly rate anything R, so lets say... mature audience. We are talking about Angelus here, right?
Disclaimer: I don’t own either show, and I wouldn’t want to anymore. It seems only so much can be done to fix a major f--- up.
Summary: This is a response to ‘Piper Summers’ Challenge that she sent out not too long ago. But, if you’re a fan of Doyle, this fic might be something you wanna read. The Challenge I’m writing will be posted at the end of the fic.
Timeline: Angel Season 1/Au. The whole Buffy-verse doesn’t exist... yet... Slight spoilers for highlighted Doyle episodes. Takes place after The Bachelor Party-minus Doyle vision of Buffy-cuz Buffy-verse does not exist... yet.
Rating: Same as the show--but might as well say R considering how skanky they’ve gotten.
Notes: I didn’t exactly WATCH ANY Angel seasons after Season 1--same goes for Buffy after season 5. So, it starts as the show does, then sort of spirals into my own universe.
Notes2: The ANGEL of Buffy S3 was what one would call perfect. He was the right size. Imagine that Angel please, oh, and imagine Buffy in season 1. Y’know how she was kind of chunky?? I thought she was really cute then. But just imagine over the span of the beginning and towards the end that she’s growing older and her body’s changing, but she still cute and small and isn’t so thin.
*insert* that will mostly mean emphasis on words.
(insert) this will sometimes mean flashback.

She grew suspicious by the days. Not that Cordelia had anything to be really worried about, but ever since the news of Doyle’s ex-wife came about, she had become curious as to what other secrets Doyle was hiding. She knew he wasn’t the type to share--he was too busy drinking and gambling to really share.

Hell, what she knew about Doyle she could count on her perfectly manicured fingernails of one hand.

That’s why she had been careful lately. She had noticed around Angel Investigations that Doyle would retreat into Angel’s office around noon almost every day that week. Though the little Irish man had tried to hide it, Cordelia’s scrutinizing eyes had caught him. She hadn’t a clue why she hadn’t said anything before, but she was positive that he was doing something he didn’t want her or Angel to know about.

Angel would usually be getting ready to head upstairs, and it seemed Doyle had timed it out just right. He managed to slip out of Angel’s office before Angel even knew he was in there.

Cordelia squinted at Angel’s ajar door. Doyle was in there. Again. Doing Powers That Be knew what. Not for the first time or the last, she wondered if he had a secret supply of liquor hidden in there somewhere, or perhaps he was borrowing some of Angel’s stash...

But Doyle’s not embarrassed to drink in front of us, Cordelia argued as she slowly crept near the door. The Irish man would drink in front of them, whether it was rain or shine, vision or none.

Maybe he’s in trouble! Cordelia thought, recalling those times Doyle had been reluctant to ask for help, trying to prove what manliness he claimed he had. He wasn’t the type to ask for help at all.

With a glare, the brunette started forward, then nearly screamed when Angel said her name in question.

“Angel, have you ever heard of being a little less noiseless?!” Cordelia nearly snapped, pushing aside a long lock of her hair.

The cursed vampire lifted a brow, confused. He had known Cordelia for only the same amount of time he had known Doyle. He had met Cordelia at a party Doyle had sent him to and had saved her from becoming a vampire’s next meal. From that experience, Cordelia had sworn her hatred for demons and had insisted she stick around Angel so that she could be properly protected. It seemed she didn’t care about him being a vampire, and he was grateful for that, but he also felt some pity for Doyle. Doyle was half demon, Brakken demon, he confessed. But human on his mother’s side.

Yet, Angel himself was rather clueless when it came to matters of modern women like Cordelia.

“What are you doing?” He asked, simply.

Startled, Cordelia, former May Queen almost blushed. That surprised Angel, considering he had never seen the brash and blunt woman be embarrassed over anything.

It passed.

Cordelia gestured towards Angel’s office, to the ajar door. “So what’s he doing in your office?” Cordelia whispered hurriedly.

Angel lifted a brow, peeked through the blinds, then looked back at her. “He’s talking on the phone.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know.” Angel replied, moving away and towards her desk. Checking for any messages Cordelia might have partially scribbled down, he was oblivious of her shocked face.

“And you don’t care?!” She snapped, then glanced behind her towards the door.

“Cordelia.” Angel said with a tired sigh. It had become a habit, really. “Whoever Doyle is talking to, is his business. If he wants to keep it a secret, let him keep it a secret. Okay?”

Cordelia moved towards the blinds and peered inside. “You don’t think he’s talking to another wife of his, do you?”

“Cordelia.” The vampire said, sounding disappointed.

“You never know!” She defended herself, “With everything that happened with Harry and her fiancee, can you blame me for being a bit suspicious?”

“Suspicious?” Doyle’s curious Irish lit voice questioned. The Irish man stood, dressed in an outfit that could only be Doyle. He held a tiny plastic jug filled with his flavor of liquor of the week. Taking a step forward, he glanced between the two, “Is there something happenin’?”

“Suspicious of...” Cordelia glanced around until her eyes settled on the magazine she had been reading. She darted over to it and picked it up, “Of this movie...” Realizing how lame it was, at Angel’s and Doyle’s looks, she rambled on, “Moulin Rogue is, a, movie that makes you suspicious--or so that’s what one of the reviews say...”’

“Ya feelin’ all right princess?” Doyle asked.

“Cordelia’s just a bit stressed.” Angel answered, “I think maybe you and Doyle should take a break.”

Cordelia’s eyes widened with pleasure at the idea of leaving for lunch. She glanced at Doyle suddenly. Maybe, if she invited him along, she could pressure him into confessing who he was talking to. A couple of straight brandy and other assorted alcoholic beverages would loosen the guy up. But Doyle seemed panicked at the thought of taking a break. He proved it to with his awkwardness.

“Ah, that’s nice and all that, but I kind of, uh, wanna pass.” Doyle babbled, lifting a hand to his head, “Tiny migraine. Think it might be a vision tryin’ to get on out.”

“Oh.” Cordelia responded, even though she knew as well as Angel did, that Doyle was lying through his teeth.

Doyle smiled, “But, I figger I can take up yer offer t’morrow?”

-----

Cordelia had a headache.

She couldn’t believe she had actually declined to leave the office. She was even more displeased when Doyle had asked her to keep an eye open for anyone who happened to pass by. Doyle had asked to talk to the resident vampire of Angel Investigations. Angel had agreed and they had retreated into his office. Closing the door and blinds a bit so they could talk privately.

Men.

She slammed the folders onto her desk with a huff before pushing her hair out of her face. She adjusted the bracelets on her wrists, tidied up her denim skirt and blouse, before falling back into her seat with a pout.

Too upset to file through the folders, she began rummaging through her draws. Searching for anything to get her mind off of the current situation.

“I can just tell Angel that I did file.” She said aloud, grabbing a hold of her nail filer and preparing to smooth out a small dent she had spotted five minutes ago.

Poised for the first scrape, she was about to begin when she heard the small chime of the office door. She turned, slowly in her seat.

A petite blond girl stood in front of the door. She seemed lost, her short, curled locks falling loosely around her shoulders. Her large, blue-green eyes glanced about. She was dressed in a white spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black slacks. A shoulder bag strapped on her left, obviously filled with text books. She couldn’t be older than fifteen, a child that was slightly pudgy, but not at all fat... and the pudginess added to her cuteness.

Cordelia scowled. Was this who Doyle was talking about?

The girl spotted Cordelia and seemed to coil nervously into herself. “Excuse me, but, is Doyle here? Francis Doyle?”

So, this was who Doyle told her to keep an eye out for. Cordelia let out a big sigh, before walking towards her. She must have been so doe eyed over him, she couldn’t see the truth. Well, not for long. The former May Queen would have things right in the world, once again.

“Listen, honey,” Cordelia said, stressing the word, honey, more then needed while placing one of her hands onto the girl’s shoulder. She gazed down the small distance and into the girl’s confused face. “I know you think the world of him, and he’s probably babbled on and on about how great he is, knowing him, but you gotta let him go.”

Cordelia’s ability to notice things outside of her own was limited once again. The young girl’s face showed her obvious confusion, and though she tried to protest, it proved fruitless.

“He’s got this thing where he thinks he’s lord of macho men, but he’s not.” Cordelia informed, crossing her arms across her chest, feeling the sudden angry passion swell up inside of her. “I mean, he’s nice and he showers, but beyond that, he’s not worth your time. Really, who would wanna spend their time on a gambling drunk who--”

“Buffy?” Doyle said, standing, once again, near Angel’s office door. Angel was behind him in no time, closing his door. The blond, Buffy, as Doyle had referred to her, smiled happily at the familiar face.

“Hi, Doyle.”

But that didn’t stop Cordelia from turning her scolding tone towards the other party of this fiasco. She glared at him, “Doyle! Are you deranged or something? You know, here in America, this kind of thing is *illegal*. I can’t believe you would go as far as to date a high school--”

“Date?” Buffy suddenly blurted out, staring at the brunette, then back to an equally appalled Doyle. She could already see the stirrings of what lingered below, but he managed to calm that side of him down while his sarcastic mouth decided to take over.

“Ey!” Doyle cried, “I may not be the most holy thing in the world, but I’m nothin’ like that! Jeez, ‘Delia! That’s horrible!”

“It’s disgusting.” Buffy added.

“Buffy, I think I can handle this, by m’self.” Doyle said, directing his gaze back to the brunette that held his secret affections, “It’s disgusting.”

Stumped, Cordelia looked between the two, before stopping short. “You two... aren’t dating?” She blinked, “Or married?”

“Are ya kiddin’?” Doyle nearly choked, “I only been married to Harry, I told ya ‘bout that.”

“And dating him would be like dating my brother.” Buffy informed, “Which he is, by the way.”

“Oh, so you’re Doyle’s sister.” Angel said with a tiniest of smiles quirking at the edge of his lips. He moved towards her in greeting, holding out his hand. “I’m Angel.”

Without hesitation of any kind, Buffy took his hand, and shook it. Smiling sweetly up at him, she replied, “I know. Doyle’s told me about you. Which makes you the boss, right?”

“Sister?” Cordelia finally snapped, “Angel, how did you know that?”

Angel shrugged, his fingers finally sliding away from Buffy’s own. “Doyle just told me.”

Angry hazel eyes met the nervous blue ones of the Irish man. He forced a chuckle, “Ya, ah...”

“I hardly see Doyle anymore.” Buffy confessed, “We have pretty hectic schedules. With everything school related and the time Doyle spends here, at the office, its hard to make time. So, we’ve been having chats on the phone during my lunch break. I wanted to see where Doyle worked.”

“Told ya not all of the money goes towards the sweet elixir of life.” Doyle informed.

“It’s still bad for you.” Buffy said, moving towards her older brother with a frown on her face. “Do you want to die young or something?”

Doyle glanced at Angel, “Buffy’s got too many morals.”

“No,” Buffy said, “You have too many drinks. I’m just glad I found your stash in the bottom cupboard near the sink last night. I’ve confiscated it--” She cupped her hand over his gaping mouth, “It won’t go to waste though. You’ll get one bottle per week.” Glancing towards her watch, she quickly moved her hand away, “And seeing how I have forty five minutes left before I have to get back to class, I suggest you hurry up and take me out to lunch.”

“Right.” Doyle said, glancing at Angel, “Guess I’ll be askin’ for that favor today.”

“It’s fine.” Angel replied.

“Thank you.” Buffy smiled, grabbing a hold of Doyle’s arm, “Okay, Doyle, lets go.” As they neared the door, the blond added, “You’re paying.”

“I’m what?!” Doyle started, squirming.

“I love you.” Buffy’s voice said sweetly just before the door closed.

Angel smiled. Doyle’s sister was interesting indeed. Shaking off whatever it was about her that had begun to sear itself into his brain and heart, he glanced at Cordelia. After a few moments, he called her name. She didn’t answer, scowling.

“I’ll be downstairs. Training.” He said.

“A sister.” Cordelia ranted, “How the hell did he get a sister?!”

“Last time I checked, a man and a woman would--”

“I know how it works!”

-----

“How are you?” Buffy asked, “I mean, really?”

A simple restaurant with the music of a country tune playing in the background. Dining on simple sandwiches and an early beer on Doyle’s part, the pair of siblings commented on the scenery and found it much more homier than most of the fancy restaurants.

Doyle raised one of his dark brows, “Whaddya mean?”

The blond gave him a knowing look, “What I mean is, how are you handling the family secret?”

“Fine.” Doyle replied, a little too quickly for Buffy’s liking.

“Right.” She answered, “That’s why you’ve told Cordelia about you being half demon, is that it?”

Doyle moved his beer around the table. Whenever he was confronted with a situation he didn’t want to talk about, he would do that. She had known the moment Doyle had strolled into their old apartment that one night. She knew her brother better than anyone. It was easy to say that Doyle had fallen in deep lust bunnies for the ’leggy brunette’.

Buffy pushed pass the plate in front of her. “You can tell her, y’know. You said so yourself that she already knows about the real world.”

“And then what?” Doyle looked up at her, “Have her reject me? I’m not looking forward to the wrath of ‘Delia, thank ya very much.”

“You’re not going to be rejected.” Buffy retorted, “Jeez, why do you always think that? Mom didn’t reject those demons she bed. Harry didn’t reject you. I don’t reject you.”

Doyle flinched slightly at the word of their mother. Then, faltered for a bare moment. “But--”

“C’mon, Doyle.” Buffy encouraged, “You’re one of the most fashionable challenged, drunken men that I know, but you got a bazillion good qualities when it really comes down to it. And, I think Cordelia, if she’s really a good person, will see it to, right? And, so what if she does reject you? It won’t be the end of the world... and at least you’ll get the weight off your chest.”

“Could turn into a disaster.” Doyle protested weakly. His sister’s innocent way of unburdening him was amazing to him.

“Yeah, but it could be better.” Buffy said with a smile. “You just have to remember not to sneeze during the se--”

“Ey!” Doyle stared at her.

A giggle passed her lips and Doyle smiled.

“Gotta hand it to you, though,” Buffy said with a slight grin, “You sure picked a mouthy one.”

“Comes with the territory.” Doyle returned. “And speaking of which, how’s that one kid treatin’ ya? Taylor?”

“Tyler.” Buffy corrected, “And we’re fine.”

Doyle’s eyes bounced from the stout waitress, towards his drink, then at her. “He hasn’t done nothing to--”

“No, Doyle.” She said with an exasperated huff, “Tyler has kept his hands to himself. Anyway, I’m not so sure if things are happy for long.”

“Whaddaya mean?”

Buffy winced, “I don’t know. I’ve just got this feeling in my gut.”

Her brother nearly panicked. “It’s not that time of the--”

“No.” She cut him off, “But, I keep getting these weird pains near there, thank you very much. It’s something else though. I think it might be part of my demon heritage.”

“From Logan?” Doyle questioned, recalling what little memory he had of the hybrid.

Logan had been the *other* man in his mother’s life when he was young child. When he and his mother had still lived in Ireland, she had met, and wed the man. Later on, he was given a little sister, whom had more of Logan’s dominant traits. The blue in her eyes were the only thing he knew he shared, too. That, and the bit of demon heritage she had inherited from Logan. He had been half demon, like Doyle, but of another race that had died out years ago.

Unlike her brother, though, Buffy was only one fourth demon, and three parts human. Logan’s demon side, though, had evolved from ghostly spirits. Thus, when Buffy first had gotten the horrible P of pain and cramps, her demon side had finally appeared. She had been so distraught over it that she hadn’t noticed at all when she had walked right through the wall that lead into Doyle’s room. He nearly fell over at the sight of her emerging from the wall, yelling at him for being a man.

He hardly envied her though. It was tough being a minority of any kind. Though Buffy didn’t get the spikes or change of skin tones that he did, she did glow a dark purple while her eyes would become gold while she was horribly upset. Which became difficult for her during that time of the month.

Doyle just couldn’t let it go. Especially during those mood swings.

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded, “From... him.”

It wasn’t a surprise that Buffy didn’t like talking about Logan. She was never resentful, not really, of what she was. She was more saddened by the fact that she had lost the opportunity to even know her father. He had died, hit by a truck on a cold night, was what Doyle recalled his mother telling him. Not all in details. Doyle had then become the father figure. He helped out the moment they had stepped foot into America, Buffy almost six months old.

Buffy scooted out of their booth, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, “I have to get back to school.”

Doyle nodded.

Buffy moved towards him, hugged him, and kissed his brow. “I’ll pick up some aspirin on the way home.”

He watched her go, wondering what else could be trying to emerge from her body that had caused her to worry so. He picked up his beer, preparing to bring it to his lips, when he suddenly felt pain rush through his head. He jerked violently. His skull crashing forward onto the table as his grip tightened on the bottle.

Another vision.

He suffered through as his mind’s eye viewed what needed to be seen. A vampire. A bad one... fighting... somebody was scared. Frightened... needed help... the vampire knocked somebody onto the ground... its fangs barred... it shot down...

His eyes shot open.

He covered his mouth, while the other let go of the beer bottle. Slowly, Doyle lifted his head up. He dug into his pants pocket, lay a spread of cash along the table, before fleeing the restaurant. It was best he left before the bystanders questioned his trembling form.

Doyle brought both hands to message his aching head.

-----

Another brooding session, another pay check.

The mood in Angel Investigations was a tad bit weary as the sun made its way across the sky. Cordelia had viewed Angel’s daily rituals. After his heavy workout and shower, he had read books related to demons or otherwise. Searched through the files she had been working on, redone them, and now, said vampire was in a intense brooding session.

She did her job, as far as she was concerned. When midnight came rolling by and no vision or hopeless seeker came along, it was time to head back home for a relaxing bit.

Angel stood up suddenly, startling Cordelia. He walked away from the small couch where previously helped clients had rested before. The vampire seemed agitated about something. What that something was seemed to be completely beyond Cordelia’s world.

She knew the sob story of Angel’s existence. Of how he had fallen for the wrong babe at the wrong time and had been turned. He became a bad-ass vamp, then was cursed by some gypsies and become whatever it was he was now.

Meeting his vampiric offspring, Spike, after that weird incident with the Gem of Amara and Oz, Cordelia had been a little less than thrilled at the idea of being the secretary for the vampire. Not only that, but he knew Oz. It seemed that Angel’s first innocent had been Oz, who had been dealing heavily with his wolfy side. Oz had wanted to return the favor and had given Angel the gem after discovering it one day after an accidental escape from his confinement. Spike had come a calling and it had led to a headache that had almost rivaled Doyle’s.

“What’s this?” Cordelia asked, gesturing to the vampire’s restless pacing. It reminded her of an angry lion from a video during a science class back in high school.

Angel merely glanced at her, very much like how she had glanced at the lion while she had been flirting with Daryl, a former dead boyfriend.

“Something.” Angel replied, unsure. “It’s a vampire thing.”

“A vampire thing?”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t understand.”

Cordelia huffed. Her day was officially over. Collecting her things, she spared a few words of how she would see him tomorrow. He had nodded, continued his pacing, and it annoyed the hell out of Cordelia.

Had she lost her touch?

No, its all these damn demon men. She rationalized, hurrying towards the door and preparing to call a taxi. Cordelia was thankful she could finally *afford* a taxi.

Almost home free until the subject of her thoughts waltzed in. Disheveled, with the familiar scent of alcohol on his breath, Doyle almost collided with her. He was about to say something, when she lifted her hand and butted in, “Whatever it is, deal with it without me.” And with that, she was gone.

Doyle’s gaze lingered on the brunette as she waved for a taxi.

He turned around.

Angel quickly took in the worried look that was plastered across the half demons face. “Doyle? What is it? A vision?”

Doyle shook his head, rubbing at his temple. “That’s the thing. I dunno.”

“What?” Angel questioned, watching as the seer roamed the place. His hand slipped in crooks and nooks, until he finally slipped his hand under a small section of Cordelia’s desk. Sighing with relief, he pulled the bottle of what was left of last weeks stash. He unscrewed the top, took a swing, then caught his breath.

“Like I said, man, I dunno. There’s a vision commin’, but it ain’t like the others. It’s commin’ slowly. I saw some of something. Vampire, I think it. But it stopped.” Doyle explained.

“Has this ever happened before?” Angel asked.

“No. The visions never stop half way through. It ain’t like you can pause it like a VCR. Whatever it is, it‘s having a hard time commin’ through...” Doyle took another swing.

Pensive, Angel glanced at him, “Do you think it could be interference of some kind?”

“I told ya, this ain’t a VCR--”

“No,” Angel interrupted, “I meant, could this be some form of magical interference? Maybe somebody’s aware of what you can do and is trying to delay the messages.” Angel paced a few steps.

“Right.” Doyle though, “Ya, whatever its gotta be, it’s gotta involve vampires... so...?”

“I guess all we can do is wait.” Angel concluded, “Until someone runs through that door, asking for help, or that vision decides to pull through.”

“Right.” Doyle tipped the bottle back, shook a bit, then cursed. “Damn.”

A moment passed.

He straightened, “I got another one in your office.”

-----

The rest of the week was filled with perfect relaxation for the Brakken demon; minus the reruns of visions. He felt relieved that he didn’t have to skitter around the subject of his sister. It was nice to see her around the office. Visiting with happy cheerfulness, offering soft smiles, (not to mention the various treats she made in Home EC.), and happy optimism.

He supposed it was due to her die-hard determination against having her demon side rear its head. It seemed the only reason that was holding her back from revealing it to the crew was Doyle. Buffy had informed her brother that she wasn’t about to blow his cover.

“It also depends on you.” She had said, “Whether or not you’re gonna spill your demon guts out and tell Cordelia the truth.”

There was that word again. Truth. Doyle was a tad bit uncomfortable with truth. Whenever he seemed to be involved with it, it always ended up ugly.

Again, the familiar visions--the good ones--which involved a certain brunette came to mind. He would have gladly daydreamed away into perfect Cordy Vision, lounging in a chair with his feet propped up on the desk.

*Would* have.

Abruptly, Doyle’s feet were flung off the desk. The course of action caused his leaning form to fly forward and kissing the slightly dusty floor.

“Whoops.”

“‘Delia.” Doyle groaned, “I never took ya as so aggressive.”

“I’m not.” Cordelia said, “I just didn’t want your shoes scratching up *my* desk.”

“Can’t a man dream in peace?” Doyle questioned.

“Not in this century, Doyle.” Buffy said as she entered, holding what appeared to be groceries. She quickly deposited them on the desk, much to Cordelia’s displeasure, before turning to him.

“What’re you doing on the floor?” She asked, bending down to help him up. “Did you have another vision?”

Doyle chuckled, “Not yet.”

His sister let out a calculated ‘hmm’, before shrugging and standing, “Well, just take it easy. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still on Buffy watch. I don’t wanna see you do anything that could trigger your brain to explode.”

“You have such a way with words, Miss Doyle.” Angel said as he appeared from his office.

Buffy smiled, “Yes, I am gifted. Oh! Before I forget--” Hurriedly, she sorted through the bags, before her eyes widened a bit at her findings. She pulled it out, and walked up to him. “Here.” She said, offering the plastic cup filled with the familiar red substance.

“It’s fresh from the butcher!” She chirped.

Angel blinked, taken aback. She... how did she know? He had been sure that he had been careful. During the day, he had avoided the lights as casually as he could. He had socialized with her whenever she stopped by for a visit. He had even managed to avoid the shiny surfaces that might reveal his lack of reflection.

“Sorry, man.” Doyle said, “It kind of slipped after I got that vision of ya before we met.”

Buffy smiled, “Trust me, I’m well adjusted.”

Angel hesitantly took the plastic cup from her hands, ignoring the recurring jolt that passed between them whenever they touched. He simple passed it off as being difference in skin temperatures. Though... whenever he touched anyone with an actual heartbeat... they never felt so...

“I would have tried to get you something more tasty, but I don’t think the hospital would have liked having their candy striper stealing plasma.” Buffy apologized.

She was apologizing. Apologizing for not presenting him with *human* blood. Though, Angel did alternate from human to animal blood time to time. He had been trying to gently wean himself off of human blood for the past year.

“Buffy, if you’re gonna be given out the goodies, where’s mine?” Doyle asked while peeking into her bags.

“Oh, shush.” Buffy said, staring at the stunned vampire one last time before moving towards him. “I have your gift.” She rummaged for a short time before producing large plastic bottle.

“Aspirin.” Doyle said, dully.

“Yes.” Buffy said, shoving the bottle into his arms. “This one’s for you here at work and I bought another one for home. I also bought some of your favorite foods so you can stock up here. Oh, Cordelia.” Buffy turned to her, “I didn’t know if you had lunch today or not, so I was wondering if you wanted to go to this little Chinese restaurant near the pier.”

Cordelia perked up at the thought of Chinese, oblivious to Doyle’s panicked stare at his sister. Buffy merely winked at her brother before turning to his boss, “Is that okay Angel? If I borrow Cordelia for a while? I promise to bring her back.”

Angel swallowed, confused as to why he felt his throat suddenly so tight. “Yeah. Sure. Get out of here.”

Cordelia didn’t need to be told twice. With quick speed, she grabbed her bag and hurried towards the door.

Buffy gave Angel another one of her sweet smiles and gently touched his shoulder.

“Thanks.” She said, before exiting Angel Investigations with Cordelia.

-----

“Nina?” Doyle called softly, wondering where she could have gone.

His vision had found her way to Angel Investigations yesterday. Nina, a young woman, fit the description of his vision. She even came to them because of vampire trouble. Of how her ex-boyfriend had been turned into one of the living dead and was stalking her.

But when Angel told her not to leave her house, and to not invite the vampire in, she had turned up missing. Angel had received her frighten phone call just before she told him she had to run away.

Now, Doyle and Angel were searching the area close to her home.

“Any sign?” Doyle heard Angel’s hushed voice somewhere.

Shaking his head no, Doyle moved on, recalling the scene in his head, “‘Must have headed towards the graveyard--”

Angel vanished and Doyle huffed, gathering his bearings and heading off to follow. There was a graveyard near this area of Los Angeles. Angel had mentioned his weekly visits to the area. Doyle was hoping against hope that he wouldn’t have to encounter the place.

Graveyards gave him chills.

His thoughts were muddled as he ran onwards. He was exhausted. Surprised even that his mind hadn’t exploded like Buffy had jeered. He wanted to whine and mop like a baby, but thought better of it as he passed bystanders on the street.

He didn’t want to go down in history as being the Powers That Be personally cry baby.

“Suck it up,” He huffed to himself, gaining a fresh bit of adrenaline he quickly took advantage of. He spotted Angel across the street and followed. He scowled as he saw the vampire leap over the nearing graveyard fence.

Not wanting to make an attempt at that and end up flat on his ass, Doyle made his way where the graveyard fence was lower. He hustled up the fence and dropped to the ground, before landing in a heap on the ground.

“I’m just not good at this.” Doyle panted, scrambling to his feet. With what breath he had left, he let out a gasp of the missing girl’s name. He swallowed hard, wondering if it was possible that his demon blood was betraying him.

No, he thought. It’s me damned visions.

He felt his body shift. Felt the tiny spikes slither out from his skin and burst in a mere second. With his senses suddenly heightened, he followed the trail of dead vampire along the flattened grassy hills. Passing by a series of late twenty headstones, he finally spotted them.

Pushing down the spikes once more, he hurried towards Nina. Hoping she hadn’t seen his demonic self. He knelt beside the blond woman, checking her pulse.

“Bitten, but not changed.” He said with a sigh. Her eyes were unfocused, but by the look of the perfect color in her cheeks, her ex had only taken a tiny sip.

Nina touched the bite mark around her neck, and cringed. “Doyle?”

“Ya.” He sighed, placing his hands firmly on her elbows. “C’mon. Get you to our place. Keep ya safe--”

“He brought friends.” Nina said, shaking.

“Friends?” Doyle let out before something smashed into the back of his skull.

-----

“Is he up yet?” Nina asked, softly.

“He’s got a hell of a bump, but he should be okay.” Cordelia said, “But once he’s up, I’m beating the hell out of him!”

Doyle winced internally. Maybe he could just wait until...

“Nina, are you sure you’re okay?” Angel asked.

“Yes. Thank you, I... I’m just glad that it’s over.”

“I’m just surprised that Doyle got knocked at during the beginning of the fight.” Cordelia said. “How’d you handle all those vamps, anyway?”

“I... I’m not sure, really.” Angel voice sounded confused. Something that rarely occurred. When it didn’t involve Cordelia. “I dusted Jared and two of his friends. But, I thought there were more of them--”

“Who cares?” Cordelia said, “It’s done with it.”

“Right.”

Pause.

Crap, did they know he was up?

“Shouldn’t we be calling Buffy?” Cordy asked.

“She should be here soon. Cordelia, why don’t you get Nina a taxi or something?” Angel suggested, “That is, if you’re okay about going home?”

“She can room with me.” Cordelia offered with a sigh. “But, the moment he gets up, whack him hard...”

“Good night Cordelia.”

“Tell him how much I--”

“I will, Nina. Good night.”

“Night.”

Okay, now he could open his eyes. And so Doyle did. He found Angel standing beside the bed he was laying in, but the vampire wasn’t looking at him.

“Pretending to still be unconscious isn’t such a nice thing, Doyle.” Angel said, slowly turning towards him.

Caught.

“I needed the extra shut-eye.” Doyle mumbled.

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter.” Angel replied, “By that bump on your head, you’re gonna need a whole lot more aspirin then usually. I’m just surprised those pills haven’t caught up with you.”

“If it’s not the pills its the beer!” Came his sister’s familiar voice. Only this time, it was tinged with anger.

A negative emotion, his cloudy mind reminded him.

Both men turned, but only one was taken aback. Buffy had, literally, passed through the wall that kept Angel’s bedroom private. A soft purple color glowed about her and her eyes were golden. They stared brightly down at her brother while Angel openly stared at her.

Doyle squirmed under the blankets. Smiling, he looked up at her, “’Ello, wonderful--”

“Doyle, shut up.” Buffy growled, purple glow swirling around her.

“Buffy?”

She whirled. Her glow dimmed and her eyes cleared.

“Angel. Wha.... hi.” She murmured, embarrassed.

Another pause.

Angel quickly broke it, “I guess now I know why you smell different...”

Smell? Doyle’s brows knitted. His vampire boss had been smelling his sister?

“Smell?” Buffy seemed to echo the same thoughts as her brother. “You... you’ve smelt me?”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Angel cleared his throat, “Yeah. You smell different... a little human, but... different.”

“I am.” Buffy said, starry eyed, “Different. We are, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” He replied, awkward.

Doyle broke the silence, “You’ve been sniffin’ at me flesh n’ blood?”

Angel, for the life of him, glanced away, his jaw set. That was a definite sign that Angel was either humiliated by this or flat out didn’t want to say anything cuz he felt awkward. Doyle figured both.

Buffy’s glow suddenly returned full force.

-----

“And that’s that.” Cordelia said, closing the file on Nina Riddle. Then pushed it aside, standing up. Though it happened only from time to time, Cordelia began to think about the previous cases. There were random ones here and there, but still, too few for her to eat at the finer diners in Los Angeles without being chaperoned by a man. In order to truly successful, she would have to be able to buy twice as much as she normally at when a guy took her out.

Which meant, they needed more clients. But, there was a problem in that. How was she supposed to find hopeless people when not even regular people dared seek out help. It was hard enough for the people who did show up at their door to come at all. They swore the same story of thinking they, themselves, were insane for encountering a demon of darkness.

Cordelia stopped, rubbing her head. She just had to take a different approach to her situation and started comparing it with her wish to become an actress. Now, with acting it was important to advertise yourself. Sending in photographs, polished resumes, and above all else, making yourself look more important than you really were.

That’s when something akin to lightening struck her. It had been a long time ago, but she remembered sending in her videotape to a talent scout when she first arrived in L.A. It had been rejected, but she didn’t give much thought to it. Advertising--commercials--a commercial!

That was it!

“Ha!” She shouted in triumph.

Unfortunately, her sudden outburst earned her an odd look from her boss as he entered the lobby again. Feeling a bit more broody then usual, Angel let her alone, contemplating on other revelations. Those involved the very charming and younger blond sister of a co-worker. After another secret had been revealed, he had taken it in in stride, and had been almost ashamed at his thoughts.

Now that he knew she wasn’t human, his mind had jumped at the prospect of being with her. She was part demon, demon meant it was okay, because she knew he was one too. It opened floodgates of opportunities. He didn’t deny the attraction any longer, welcomed the accidental and human touches that she so freely gave him.

But he had easily gone back to brooding over the subject. Though she may have demon heritage, it didn’t mean she did not have the human kind either. And oh, how she must feel, being isolated because of that inhuman blood that coursed through her veins and made her who she was. What right did he have to make it more difficult by confessing his silly affection for her.

Too complicated, he thought.

“A video advertisement!” Cordelia hollered.

“A--what?”

“It’s perfect,” Cordelia waved her finger at him, “Of course, we won’t be broadcasting it on TV, but we can use it for clients. Make copies and spread them around the demon underworld--or something!”

Angel shook his head, his eyes closing at Cordelia’s perception of her brilliance. He stood, even as the brunette followed, speaking of her plans.

“--we can rent a video recorder, no problem! And you have to star in it--”

The elevator door was suddenly cutting her off. She glared at Angel as it slowly descended into the haven of his basement, where he intended to do proper brooding without the animated secretary.

“Fine, I’ll get Doyle!” She barked down at him.

Closing his eyes, Angel rubbed the bridge of his nose and stopped when he felt the elevator stop and the coolness of the basement. Walking in, he headed towards the kitchen where he planned to stare at the dripping faucet.

“Hi.”

He stopped. “Buffy... hi.”

She stood and he watched. Her eyes, he sighed silently. Oh, her eyes... they were sparkling, glowing with a sudden happiness. She was happy and he was glad. She should be happy, happier by with each passing day.

“You’ve...” Buffy stared up at him, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Angel stiffened, his admiring gaze pushed aside for an attentive ear.

“I...” She swallowed, her little hand fluttering against her thigh. “Did I do something? I mean... are you--is it because of my--”

“No.” Angel interrupted, moving forward. “No, its not that. Anything but that, I--Buffy.” He sighed, taking a hand. “I like you very much.”

Her eyes glittered and he took another moment to quietly sigh at the sight. She tightened her grip on his hand. “Good,” She said with a nod, before catching herself, “I mean--me too. I-I-I like you, too. Very much.”

He pushed back her hair. Astonishing soft hair that always curled against her cheek and played near those eyes. Those beautiful eyes.

“Good.” He said.

-----

“You’ve been coddlin’ her a lot.” Doyle said.

Angel stopped, startled. He had been caught starring at Doyle’s sister again. She had come to visit and chat with her brother. She had listened and laughed as he retold her the story of how Cordelia had made him do the commercial advertisement. Soon, after the laughter had died down, Buffy had fallen fast asleep. Apparently, high school was stressful for the young girl and exhaustion had finally taken its toll.

Doyle smiled softly, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against it or anything, just... I got this funny feeling... like something big’s gonna happen.”

“Doyle...”

He held up a hand, “It’s not a vision or anything like that, just... just this feeling I’ve been having lately. Of course, it could just be acid reflex or some of those enchilada things Buffy made me eat--I don’t think I can handle that stuff anymore. It looks innocent enough, but once it goes down yer throat its all hell from there on--”

“Doyle, there is a point somewhere, I hope.” Angel murmured, glancing at Buffy at the sight of her movement.

“God, man, I don’t even know why I’m saying this, but--” Doyle moved towards his sister and sat down gently beside her. “Buffy’s very... dear to me... I wanna be able to protect ‘er, but I know they’ll be times when I can’t...”

The half-demon stared at his sister and brushed some of her hair aside. “Take care of her? I mean, when I can’t, will ya?”

Angel paused, then nodded. “Of course.”

But he was confused. Angel didn’t understand why Doyle was suddenly in such a serious mood. He had seemed even more melancholy than Angel himself, which left the vampire to wonder what it was the was bothering his friend. Was Doyle hiding something from them? Was he in some kind of trouble? Or, was it a vision?

Whatever it was, Doyle didn’t say. He simply stared at his sister bittersweet smile on his face.

-----

Buffy carefully removed the skirt around her waist, cursing the strange cramping sensations she felt in her stomach. It wasn’t her time of the month, but it felt like something inside her stomach had just died.

“No more enchiladas.” Buffy said with a scowl as she slipped into a more comfortable pair of sweatpants. Plus she was already in a fowl mood, no thanks to that “good fer nothin’ boyfriend.” as Doyle might have worded it. He had the nerve to dump her for Lacey Adams because he felt like she was “distancing herself from him.”

“What a crock!” Buffy growled, throwing her dumb skirt across the room. She hoped he tripped in football practice, pulled groin muscle, and ended up with one of the biggest beer-gut-trailer park stories in the world.

Huffing, Buffy curled up on the couch, wishing her cramp-like pains would go away. She didn’t like glowing purple like some sort of lava lamp. She sighed, yanking her hairclips out and running her hands through her hair. There was a sudden pain her skull now, and it was starting to make her thankful that Doyle needed aspirin so damn much.

Buffy had barely swallowed her second pill when there was a soft knock on her door. Frowning, she moved towards the door and eyed it warily. Doyle never knocked on the door, in fact, he usual waltzed right in and scared her half to death.

Peering through the peephole, she sighed in relief when she saw Angel, her brother’s boss. Yet, frowned. What was he doing here? And where was Doyle? Unless...

She beamed suddenly as she unlocked the door. Doyle must have finally asked Cordelia out and were on a date right now! And knowing her brother, he probably sent Angel over to baby-sit her. Ooh, when he got home, she was so kicking his ass! She didn’t need a babysitter, even if it was a very handsome one.

Opening the door, she was disturbed suddenly at the lost look in the vampires eyes. All thoughts of how she must look wearing sweats and her matching jacket left her mind. Quietly, she invited him in, and he walked slowly and sluggishly. In fact, he looked horrible! Scratched up and bloody and--

“Angel, are you okay?” Buffy asked, moving towards him as he sat on the couch. “You look--was there a fight?” She bent down in front of him, searching his shattered gaze for anything. “Angel?”

He swallowed and looked at her. “Buffy, I...” He faltered, trying once more to gather his bearings.

“What is it Angel?” Buffy asked softly, “Was there an accident? Did one of your clients-”

“There was a...” He took her hands and squeezed them gently. Bent and kissed them. “Buffy... Doyle’s dead.”

The moment he saw the disbelieving look in her eyes, Angel knew she would deny it. She would scream or yell, call him a liar even. He was expecting this, but she didn’t do any of these. She stared at him for the longest time, stood up suddenly, glanced around the room.

“Buffy...” He called to her. Wanting her back with him. Wanting to hold her hand, hold her; listen to her cry as he cried silently with her.

“I can’t--” Buffy suddenly dashed towards the door and was gone. It took Angel a moment to realize this, his mind still hazy and numb from the revelations. From seeing what he had seen. It had happened all so fast.

Without much thought, he hurried out, and followed the scent of her. He suddenly realized how much attention she could attract to the dark of the night. She was frightened, alone, and in pain. Those feelings attracted all sorts of evil things.

-----

Buffy had lost her way, so she huddled down in the corner of the House of Mirrors. One of the many attractions at the fair that was set to open up tomorrow. She didn’t remember rushing into the lot or how exactly she got there. All she knew was that she was glowing purple and her eyes wouldn’t stop crying and that she ached all over.

It couldn’t be true, could it? No, it was impossible! Doyle--he couldn’t be dead! Never dead! It never even crossed her mind--even with his horrible drinking problem, she never thought he would die.

“How?” She hiccupped to herself. How had he died? That was something that briefly flashed in her mind, momentarily pushing the shock aside. Oh, God, had he died all alone? Painfully? Was it horrible? Did he know--did he remember that she loved him? Loved him with all of her heart? Did he know at all? Was he in heaven? Was he allowed in heaven, or by some awful, twist of fight was he now burning in hell?

A loud sob escaped her though at that, and she shrunk more into the corner, surrounded by the endless number of mirrors where hundreds of Buffy’s sobbed and hiccupped.

“Buffy.”

Her eyes snapped open, she looked up hopefully, “Doyle--” And her heart broke when she saw Angel, and only one Angel, hovering above her and not her brother and dozens of mirror reflections. She stared at him and felt vulnerable as he knelt down in front of her, took her hands in his. They shook, then pulled away.

Angel tried again, but Buffy had already launched herself into his arms, fistfuls of his shirt clenched in her tiny fists. “We’re supposed to come here tomorrow.” She cried, “He said he’d take me here tomorrow... He said he’d win me some ugly leprechaun toy and he try some fair Irish ale and-and-he’s not going to be there!”

These tears, Angel thought. These tears are just another scar for her. They’ll never truly go away... just one more scar... one more painful memory...

Buffy wept.

Angel held her tightly.

And I am sorry...

-----

Over the next week, Buffy remained the most miserable of all of them. Angel had explained about the Lister demons and Scourge, the bomb, and how Doyle had sacrificed himself in Angel’s place. The news only seemed to make her cry harder. She had spent most of her time, swallowed up in a blanket that belonged to Doyle, refusing to move as she stared at the half empty wine bottle that Doyle had drank only a few nights before his death.

After a few days of nothing, Angel had to finally put his foot down. Buffy was missing school, she was wasting away, and he wouldn’t let her. Doyle had told him to take care of her. “Take care of her... please.” He had said before he had done it.

So, he simply entered the apartment one day, scooped her up off the couch, and had taken her home. She barely protested, just shaken her head no when Angel asked if she really wanted to spend the rest of her life this way.

It had taken a very long time before there had been a evident breakthrough. Buffy had been gazing at some pictures of Doyle one evening and had started laughing. She began telling Angel stories from when she was little; stories from her childhood. It was around that time that he decided she was ready, and he took her hand and led her to the cemetery.

“It’s not much.” Angel replied, “But I tried getting the best I could.”

Doyle’s headstone was simple, and yet, looked very elegant to Buffy. The words said so much and so little. Angel swore that, if Buffy could, she would spend hours just sitting next to that stone; even sleep next to it if it meant being close to her brother again.

But he waited patiently, letting her take it all in and then let it all out again. He didn’t mind. He was immortal and had all the time in the world--well actually, he had about six hours left before the sun would rise, but he figured another hour or so wouldn’t harm anyone. Plus, it also gave him time to contemplate what exactly it was he was supposed to do with his new young charge. Doyle had instructed him to take care of her. To watch over her and take care of her.

In a way, it was like becoming an adult.

He halted suddenly. Angel didn’t want to think of Buffy as family--not the kind where he would regard her as his sister. He already had Cordelia for that. In regards to family, he would rather look at Buffy as a wife...

God, if Angel could blush, he would have. How horribly embarrassing and inappropriate to be thinking such things while the young woman he was beginning to love was mourning over her brother’s grave. In the farthest recesses of his mind, he heard the demon chuckle and make some smart-ass remark about his inner musings.

He was soon startled out of his mental argument when Buffy sighed loudly, suddenly attached to one of his arms.

“You don’t think it would be offensive if I poured some rum onto it?”

Angel chuckled softly, hugging the young girl to him. “Believe it or not, I think he might actually like that...”

“How’s... is Cordelia okay?” Buffy asked.

“She’s... she’s Cordelia, y’know?” Angel ran his hand down her arm. “She’s pulling through.”

“I meant with Doyle’s visions.” Buffy explained.

“Oh that--she’s pissed.”

Buffy giggled.

“She swears she understands now why Doyle drank so much.” Angel went on, gently guiding Buffy out of the cemetery. “If she was a big drinker, she’d do it to. Now, all she has is aspirin. But she said she doesn’t wanna become some pill popper...”

-----

It was wordlessly decided that Buffy would stay with Angel until he could set up a better environment for her. When he wasn’t working on a case or listening to Cordelia shout curses at the deceased Doyle, he was busily making plans for Buffy’s future. In general, Angel enjoyed having Buffy around, but on certain occasions he found it a bit uncomfortable for him. In the sense of him being a man and she being a woman--

He cleared his throat, quickly scanning over the information he had received about an apartment relatively close by to his own. If he was going to move Buffy into an apartment, he wanted to know everything about it. If it had good lightening, if the foundation was solid, if the pipes were still working, if there were any dangerous activity nearby, etc, etc.

Angel would have only the best for her. Those were his thoughts until he heard the bell just outside his office ring and heard the soft padding of her footsteps. He quickly grabbed the case folder beside his left hand and pulled it over his previous work. He didn’t want Buffy to know what he was doing. She was already protesting about having Angel take care of her as if she were a child; if she knew of his plans it would only make her aggravation worse.

“Angel?” She chirped, peering in.

“Hey.” He said. “How was school?”

“Fine.” She answered, slipping into a chair across from him.

“Just fine?” He started and Buffy gave him a look.

“We go through this everyday I come home from school.” She scolded, folding her hands in her lap, “I never had this much trouble with Doyle. He was right, you are a worrywart.”

“I do not worry, let alone am I a wart.” Angel retorted.

Buffy chuckled. “Actually, school was kind of lame. And the weirdest stuff kept going on there. I mean, weirder than me being all glow in the dark.”

Angel frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“Well, there’s this weird librarian that just transferred a couple of weeks ago, Mr. Giles. And he’s really into all the occult stuff. Kinda like you, I guess, but its weird. Not to mention the fact that all of my so-called friends have been treating me like I’m some sort of freak--even though that’s partially true--because I’ve been mopping. But on a happier note, Lacey Adams has disappeared and Tyler’s been crawling back to me on his hands and knees and I’ve turned him down for Homecoming.”

Angel blinked. He hadn’t realized how much Buffy could say in such a short amount of time. “Uh... well, is there anything I can do?”

“Hmm? Oh, no.” Buffy replied, “It’s just a little strange, is all. But, he’s probably just really cultured. I mean, he came all the way from England and all. I need a Homecoming dress. I should grab Cordy for a shopping trip, I think some new clothes might cheer her up a bit. I mean, after that whole wacko demon pregnancy thingy.”

“Homecoming?” Angel repeated, somewhat dazed.

“Yeah.” Buffy said, “You do know what Homecoming is, right?”

“Cordelia’s mentioned it several times. Big dance. Punch drinking. More dancing... right?”

Buffy pouted, “Well, when you say it like that, it almost sounds boring. But its not, it’ll be fun. Even though I’ll be going stag. But its the principle of the matter. I wanna show those goofballs that I can be independent and non-freaky and still party with the best of them.”

Angel rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So, you’re going by yourself?”

“Yeah.” Buffy replied.

“To a dance with open invitation?” Angel went on.

“Well, there is the fifteen dollar fee.” She added.

“I don’t like it.” Angel said, standing.

“What?” She started, confused.

“Hemery’s a big school. All those teenagers in a gym--it’s an open invite for vampires.” Angel thought.

“Vampires.” Buffy started.

“And L.A. is a big city--” Angel went on, “It’s a blood bath waiting to happen. When’s Homecoming?”

“Next week Saturday.” Buffy replied meekly.

Angel nodded, “Great. I’m going with you.”

Buffy suddenly perked, if not awkwardly. “To Homecoming? With me? Like... like a date?”

The souled vampire tensed suddenly. “Date. Um... yeah, I guess, if you don’t mind me carrying around wooden objects in my suit.”

Buffy lifted a brow, “Is that supposed to be some kind of hint?”

“What?” Angel asked, confused.

Buffy glowed pink and Angel found the color adorably suited her. Even though he had no idea why she was blushing the way she was. “Never mind. I’ll talk to Cordy about renting you a tux.”

-----

There must have been something unnatural brewing in her stomach. How else could Buffy explain the odd sensations that wouldn’t stop agitating her? It was bad enough that this feeling kept bubbling up at night, but on Homecoming night, of all nights? The night where she was going to have her very first almost-date with Angel? She had been hoping for a date, but he hadn’t seemed completely sure when the word date was mentioned. So Buffy had started calling their Homecoming time together the almost-date.

Buffy glanced at the mirror again, checking her dress over. It was blue, the color of the sky. Once she had seen it, she had thought of Angel. How every sky he saw was always dark and black. It would be nice for him to see the color again, she had thought. The dress also had this neat shimmering affect to it, but it wasn’t anything tacky like sequences. It was just natural shimmery and she loved it. She found some nice white flats to go with them, clouds, she had thought. She had added a pretty lily clip to tie her hair back slightly.

Overall, she thought she looked good. Plus, she had tested her heels a bit. No, as much as Buffy was looking forward to her almost-date, she hadn’t forgotten the main reason Angel was going tonight.

Vampires.

“Ouch.” Buffy grunted, moving her hands to her abdomen. Funny. Just thinking the word made her stomach ache. Yet, whenever she thought or was near Angel, her stomach seemed to ache less. Did that mean he was some sort of human version of Tums? Ah, who cared. All that mattered was that she was dressed to impress--at Cordelia’s house. She was still living with Angel--but she had insisted that she get dressed up at Cordelia’s. That way they wouldn’t have to share the bathroom and it would be somewhat traditional.

“Well, all stomach pains aside,” Buffy twirled, “How do I look?”

“Good.” Cordelia said.

“Really?” Buffy questioned, “I don’t look bloated? Or... pregnant? Which I’m not, by the way.”

“You look great, okay?” Cordelia said, huffing softly.

The blond frowned, “What? What is it?”

“Its been a month and some.” Cordelia murmured, “And I still miss him.”

Buffy grabbed the for the neglected jewelry on the nearby dresser. “Its been a month and some, Cordy.” She clasped the white beads, “I don’t think it’ll ever really go away. I don’t think I’ll ever really feel how I felt when Doyle was alive. And its not only because he’s dead, its him himself. I’ll always miss him, but just because somebody’s died, doesn’t mean life has to stop. And... I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Guess I’d better just focus on moving on with my life.” Cordelia said, standing up from her bed.

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, “at least you got a ghost to keep you company.”

“True.” Cordy nodded, “But I don’t think getting into a relationship with somebody I can’t even see is a good thing. It’s like online dating. It never really ends well.”

“Hmm.” Buffy said, fixing her bracelet. That’s when the bell rang, and she squeaked.

“I’ll get it.” Cordelia said with a smile, “You stay here.”

Buffy nodded.

-----

“Well, look at you.” Cordelia said once the door was open. Angel stood before her, dressed in a tux--a way good tux, which he decided to buy instead of rent, considering how many functions Cordelia dragged him to. And for reasons of his own. His hair was slicked back and somehow it still worked for him.

“Hey.” Angel nodded, and Cordelia almost laughed. Her vampire boss was nervous. It was cute, in a childish dorky kind of way. He reminded her of the timid boys in high school, whom she would have had absolutely nothing to do with back then. Excluding a little incident with a certain Alexander Harris.

“Car?” Cordelia asked, peering behind him.

“Uh... yeah...” Angel glanced back. “Was that wrong?”

“Limo would have been more impressive.” Cordelia replied, “But I guess you’ll just have to do by yourself.”

“Well, its not like I could--I’d have to pay him to stick around while there’s a possible vampire massacre inside the gym? Doubt he’d stick around.” Angel answered.

“Yeah, yeah.” Cordelia stepped back, “C’mon in.” She closed the door behind him. “At least you remembered the corsage. White roses?”

“Yeah.” He replied.

“Wow.” Cordelia remarked, staring at him. “I don’t know who looks more scared.”

“Scared?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Me?”

“Yeah-huh.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Whatever.” Cordelia said, “Anyway, what if it is a big vampire massacre. Where shall I be?”

“You just stay here where its safe.” Angel instructed.

“I doubt they’ll be a massacre, Angel.” Cordelia assured him. “I mean, if there was, don’t you think I’d have a massive vision attack by now?”

“You can never be too careful.” Angel said.

“Again with the Whatever. Buffy!” She called over her shoulder.

“Coming!” Came the reply.

Angel steeled himself in place as he heard her footsteps. He really did feel nervous, and it startled him at how much it reminded him of being alive. Like he was truly young again, a teenaged boy, with equally teenaged hormones, going stark crazy waiting for a pretty lady to come by. And it was insane! Completely, but then again, so was he. Or at least, that part of him that was locked away, yet always present.

There she was; beaming at him, all dressed up and beautiful as always.

And for the life of him, Angel couldn’t think of a single thing to say. It was as if he froze, as if his brain had disconnected from the rest of him. But the tingly feeling was there, simmering somewhere along his spine and crawling up his neck.

“Wow.” She breathed, “You look... great.”

Again, where in the world had the connection gone to? He tried finding it, and would have taken longer finding it, if Cordelia hadn’t brushed past him, with her elbow thrusting into his ribs on the way. He swallowed, “You, too. You look--you look amazing.”

“Thank you.” She grinned, then noticed the small token in his hands. “Is that for me?”

“Uh, yeah.” He managed, moving towards her and placing the object around her wrist.

“Hey, look over here.” Cordelia said. When they turned, a flash greeted them, before Cordelia took a few more. She pulled the camera aside, and beamed down at it, “This is partially for Buffy, and partially for good blackmail. Might never see you in a tux like this again.”

“We should go.” Angel said.

“You have her back here by eleven.” Cordelia said.

Buffy shot her a look.

“Okay, one.” Cordy faulted. “But you guys better be in one piece. Pieces. Separate like.”

“Good night.” Buffy said, before leaving.

-----

Loud.

That’s what first crossed Angel’s mind when he entered the gymnasium and was assaulted with loud, low thumping that vibrated throughout the building. The next was all the shining lights, glitter, ribbons, and the multicolor paper. He definitely did not like the bizarre multicolor paper... things that were at the other end of the gym. Were those suppose to be pigs? What did the pigs have to do with Homecoming?

“It’s the mascot.” Buffy supplied.

“Oh.” He paused. “It’s hideous.”

She laughed softly, another nice sound. “Well, I’m just glad I didn’t have to make it. I’m also glad you’re here. Even if there are vampires... are there vampires?”

Angel tensed, then let out a somewhat frustrated sigh. “There’s too many distractions here. Not just the look and the sounds, but the smells...”

“Okay, we’ll just keep an eye out then.” Buffy said, taking his hand and tugging, “I spy crackers on that refreshments table.”

“Crackers?” Angel asked, following behind.

“Um, yeah.” Buffy started, hesitantly, grabbing a cracker and nodding at some of her classmates. “My stomach’s been kinda wacky.”

“Are you okay?”

His hand was cupping her jaw while the other was hesitating above her abdomen, and settled on her arm. Buffy stood awkwardly, “I think so... my stomach’s just been upset is all... probably nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “You’re so sweet.”

He blinked.

“Yes, I’m fine.” She said once more. “In fact, I think I’d be more than fine if you would dance with me.”

“Dance. Right.” Angel murmured.

“I know it might have been a while, but you do know how, right?” Buffy asked, curiously.

“I’m not that old.” He muttered. “Okay, I am that old, but not old enough that I don’t know how do something as simple as the waltz.”

“Well, then waltz me around.” Buffy murmured back.

He did, waltz her around the moment something slow and relatively nice began to play. It was amazing. Having her pressed close to him, her tiny frame next to his; so very small. But it felt nice... very nice, indeed. So much so, that Angel actually found himself relaxing enough to truly enjoy this moment.

Buffy seemed to be enjoying herself, too. He hadn’t seen her smile so brightly since Doyle passed away. It made him glad to see that smile, and knowing, albeit only slightly, he helped put it there.

After a few run ins with awkward fast dances, and more comfortable slow dances, Buffy had asked if they could sit down a bit. She seemed embarrassed when she sat on the bleacher and immediately reached down towards her heels and unbuckled the strap... thing.

Angel only chuckled and offered to get her some punch. She nodded and that smile... it seemed to make all the pains of Homecoming worth it. He went towards the punch table, then frowned when he caught a glimpse of the giant mascots at the other end of the gym.

Not all pains, perhaps.

But most of them.

-----

Former May Queen, Cordelia Chase, more commonly known in high school as Queen C, wondered exactly how she got where she was. Then stopped when it came all too apparent. Her parents had cheated on their taxes and the IRS bit their rich asses until they gave up all their money.

She sold most of her good stuff carefully, so when she graduated, perhaps no one would notice the change. Most of them didn’t, except for sorry Xander Harris. She wrinkled her nose, grabbing the nail polish off the coffee table and shaking it.

Her parents were practically living in a trailer home, somewhere on the edge of Sunnydale. Cordelia didn’t really speak regularly with them, not after refusing to live like that. She told them boldly that she’d go to Los Angeles and make it as a big Hollywood star.

Some star, Cordelia thought, recalling how she only went to the parties to steal food.

But, miraculously, she had run into Angel, whom had been a good vampire who saved her, Xander, and Willow many times. It was hard enough believing about vampires, but a good one?

But he is good, Cordelia thought. He’s a good man. Just like Doyle.

There must have been a better way to spend the night then drowning her sorrows in coats fingernail polish and sighing sadly over the loss of Doyle. Why aren’t you out partying at a club, or out to dinner with some handsome rich guy?

That’s what she should have been thinking about, but right now, she was more focused on her toenails and Doyle. How the two connected, Cordelia didn’t really give a damn over.

But what she wouldn’t give to have spent a little more time with Doyle before he had gone. Maybe if she hadn’t been so stubborn, so proud, just maybe they would have been together sooner. All the petty fights, the insults, the subtly glances, and research they had done together; not once had she tried.

But maybe that was it, Cordelia thought. Maybe its the only way I can have a relationship with a guy. Through arguing. Granted, an unhealthy relationship, but a relationship’s still a relationship--

Ow! Cordelia winced, assaulted far too suddenly with images. She vaguely felt her foot knock over the nail polish, and would later curse over the damn vision when it stained her carpet; but later, now wasn’t the time. After the images disappeared, Cordelia hurried towards her room to grab the keys to her car.

She had to get to the gymnasium before the vampires did. Dry toenails or no dry toenails.

-----

It didn’t take a genius to figure that something was wrong, even though Buffy spent most of the time trying to ignore that feeling. Things were just too perfect. She was dancing with Angel, she had the opportunity to snub her former friends, which was a big plus, and she was with Angel. That’s all that she really wanted to concentrate on...

But her stomach and something else just kept on nagging at her. It was nagging and nagging and gnawing at her and she couldn’t help but glance around the room. A dizziness fell over her and the world began to spin at odd angles and suddenly the people weren’t people anymore.

They were vampires.

“Vampires.” Buffy whimpered suddenly.

“What?” Angel drew back from her, gazing down at her worriedly.

“There’s... vampires.” She repeated with wide eyes.

No time to react. The sound of shattering class was quickly echoed by the screams of the young teenagers. Angel quickly took Buffy into his arms and rushed towards the bleachers. “I want you to hide under here.” He told her amongst the chaotic teenagers.

“What, no. I can--”

“This is my area.” Angel told her firmly. “Go.”

She went, but not without a flash of gold to her eyes. With one last nod, Angel hurried past crowds, pushing pass the scurrying couples. It was a good thing that one of them came prepared.

There, his mind shouted; he spotted one. A leather clad fledgling of a vampire tearing into a young girl. A moment later the girl fell to the ground covered in dust. Angel hauled her to her feet and pushed her towards the door; the girl ran.

Another one; Angel threw the stake at it, it exploded but he didn’t need to stay to see it. He was already rushing towards the couple of vampires both feeding on a couple. One, two--gone. But still so many others to go. Over there! The four fun boys circling around that chubby brunette. He ran, kicked, punched, staked once, twice, another kick, then two more punches. Two quick jabs and the rest were gone.

More screams, too many screams. Maybe he had been over his head, maybe this was stupid of him--a punch connected to his jaw, sending him skidding across the gym floor. A hot shot vampire thinking he could take him down; revenge for his fallen brethren. Another dead vampire once he was through with him.

But someone beat him to it. An late middle aged man wearing glasses and a tux that seemed out of place. For some reason tweed seemed more appropriate at the moment. But it didn’t matter. Angel moved on, and the man, whomever he was, was making a steady trail behind him.

Another stupid vampire--punch, kick, stab. There were too many people, too many panicked people running around like mad. His senses had already been on overload with so many of them around, clouded and tantalized by Buffy’s own scent. He was a vampire, but these scents were driving the primitive part of his mind, telling him to seek them out. Don’t care about the vampires, get the humans, the humans blood!

No. Listen--growling nearby. Yes, follow it--there he was. The ring leader, prowling over a dead girl. Maybe a permanent bat nosed one, an old one. It turned to him, and Angel’s guess was somewhat right. This vampire was old, older than him, but obviously way out of sync... no body wore petticoats anymore.

It was about to speak but Angel cut it off with a punch. “I don’t have time for your holier-than-evil-thou crap. I’m on a date.”

And the fight was on. Angel punched, dodged, kicked, spun, practically danced while he fought, but the older vampire wasn’t taking lightly to this. He punched back hard, kicked twice as hard, and threw him over several shouting people before he landed hard on his back.

This wasn’t going as planned, he thought with a grunt. He grabbed his discarded stake, and threw it at him. Damn bastard caught it and threw it back. Luckily for Angel, he was a damn bastard to. He was about to fly a punch at the old bat when something hit the elder vampire. A bolt from a crossbow? The man with the glasses had one in his arms, and was standing on top of a bleacher, moving his aim to another vampire.

That distracted the vampire for a moment and Angel took advantage of it. A series of fast punches and kicks. His opponent wouldn’t give up though. He was snarling and cursing him in German to which Angel quickly parried with a good series of curses of his own before kicking the vampire.

The vampire stopped short and Angel waited, ready. Perhaps the old man with the glasses had gotten him. The vampire hissed and began to turn, suddenly Angel was faced with something he had not been prepared to see. Buffy stood behind him, but before the vampire could fully turn around, she suddenly grabbed the stake in its back and shoved it harder into its back.

Moments later, the stake and a large cloud of dust littered the floor. Angel paused, looking at her in confusion. She looked a little dazed herself.

“How...?”

“I don’t--Buffy!” He shouted, seeing the vampire fly at her from behind.

The girl grabbed the arm that came around her, pulling the vampire over her shoulder. She grabbed the fallen stake and used it on the vampire.

“Buffy...” Angel started, bewildered. Could this be part of her demonic heritage? But how? That blood was somewhat thinned, “Buffy, you’re...”

“A Slayer!”

There was the man with the glasses and crossbow, panting and somehow pulling off a tired but excited look. Then, the words registered.

Slayer...

-----

Needless to say Cordelia spent the rest of the week complaining of how she ruined her nails and carpet just to arrive *after* the battle was over. But other matters seemed much more important, like the fact that Buffy was now an official Slayer with barely a day to adjust, with absolutely no training, and a Watcher by the name of Rupert Giles at her school--a constant reminder that this was what fate had handed her.

It probably didn’t help much that after coming back from her work at the hospital, she had found the papers that Angel had been working on for her future apartment. It had lead to an argument with Buffy in tears, glowing angrily before dimming and falling into the basement. She had ignored him for the rest of the night.

This whole situation had definitely put their unknown relationship on hold, much to Buffy’s chagrin, but she didn’t say anything.

While out on the streets he found her at the edge of an alley way, in the middle of passing crowds. He slid next to her easily, and began looking where she was. A vampire in the alleyway, it was harassing a homeless person and no one seemed to notice. Funny how people ignored the things that they couldn’t be bothered with. Perhaps if they kept telling themselves, somebody else can do it. Somebody else can fix it, somebody might actually do it.

Buffy did without further hesitation. She ran down the alleyway, tore the vampire away and attacked. Angel hovered nearby, but didn’t interfere. If Buffy was going to be a Slayer, she would have to learn how to defend herself, she couldn’t always relay on him, no matter how greatly he wanted her to.

When she fell to the ground, he panicked but stood still. This was it, the test. A test to see if she could do it--the vampire moved to slam its fist into her face, but met solid gravel instead. Buffy’s demon heritage was showing, her body ghostly and eerie before she shoved the stake into its heart and it burst into dust.

She carefully stood, gingerly rubbing her elbow where it was slammed by the vampire. She glanced at Angel and rubbed her elbow.

“This is what I gotta do.” She stated.

“Yeah, this is what you gotta do.” Angel confirmed.

“Powers That Be...” Buffy began, “I’m continuing Doyle’s work in a way... think I can do it?”

Angel smiled. “I think you can manage.”

“I hope so.” Buffy said, moving towards him. “I’d hate the idea of leaving you all alone with Cordelia.”

“I think I’d be able to handle myself.” Angel replied.

“Still...” She started tugging on his arm. “She’s pretty scary when she wants to be.”

“No more than usual.”

“Giles can be scary.” Buffy started as Angel steered her down the busy streets. “Especially when I make fun of my ‘sacred duty’. His eyes get kind of beady, and he’ll make this cluck noise with his tongue.”

“But...?”

“But I think he’ll make me a good Slayer.” Buffy confessed. “As long as I don’t have to start quoting my own lore, I guess I’m cool with it... Um... y’know, it’s okay if I live on my own, y’know. I mean, I know I was mad and everything--but that was just because of all the stuff that’s been happening. Plus, I had I bad day and--”

“I want you to stay.” Angel said.

Buffy nodded.

-----

Giles was talking. For that, Buffy was for certain. Words were coming out, his lips were moving, so logically, Giles was talking. Only, Buffy wasn’t really paying attention to whatever it was Giles was teaching her about. It wasn’t that she didn’t care--she deeply wanted to take her duties as the Slayer seriously. Even if it meant putting up with her Watcher’s complex babbling about the history of vampires or how Slayer’s fought and whatnot.

Yet, Buffy could not focus today. Her mind was lingering on Doyle, and continued on while on patrol. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and everything he represented to her. Memories of their childhood, how he made her life as a child. How he hugged her even when she had been too shy to ask. When they went trick-or-treating and how afterwards he had secretly given her just a little bit more candy.

These things that just didn’t want to go away, these memories. She didn’t want them to go away, but right then, where she was, these thoughts shouldn’t have been invading her mind.

“Buffy.”

“Hmm?” She turned, “What?”

“Forgive me if this seems to intrusive, but, I do believe that you aren’t paying attention at all.” Giles told her.

Buffy bristled, “What makes you think that?”

“Because there’s a very obvious vampire trying to creep up behind you, and you have yet to notice.” Giles answered simply.

“What--oh!” And suddenly she was down on the ground, struggling with a vampire, completely off guard. Giles stepped back, standing quite modestly with his hands holding his notepad and pen, ready to take note of her form. A simple number score of a hundred would do--ten points for each of the ten most important parts of slaying.

So far, it wasn’t going very well.

“Buffy, I know you’re not exactly thrilled with your current situation.” Giles said while the brawl continued on, “I don’t think any Slayer truly accepts her duty to enjoy it with every fiber of their being. And I can understand that it must not be easy for you.”

The vampire flew up into the air after Buffy struck out with her foot. She rolled and got to her feet and launched herself at it.

Giles took note of this, adding a few more points.

“But I want you to know, even though I was a bit... disturbed by the prospect of a Slayer being part demon, I will always be here for you. I’m your Watcher, Buffy, and in such, you are my responsibility. Know now, that I will stand by you no matter what decisions you make; good or bad.”

The vampire was slammed against a tree and then thoroughly dusted. Buffy huffed softly to herself, then turned back to Giles.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Giles paused. Then began scratching away the marks he had given her earlier.

-----

Angel got home before Buffy, and that seemed to aggravate the already aggravated vampire. He was also covered in some sort of slimy substance that Cordelia dared not near for the sake of her clothes and nose. She tried keeping her mouth shout when he tracked in with those slimy foot prints, tried to be calm as his vampire features had yet to relax, but she was Cordelia. She said exactly what she wanted when she wanted, right after she thought it.

“You’re all gross and you look pissed.” She said.

Angel glanced at her. “Thanks for pointing that out.”

“No problem.” Cordy replied.

“Buffy isn’t back yet.” Angel stated.

Cordelia nodded. “She’s probably out in a graveyard with that Giles guy, doing her Slayer thing, whatever that is.”

“She should be home.” Angel said a moment later, almost in a sad, needy sort of way that made Cordelia lift a brow.

“You know, you’re getting kind of sad.” She started, “I’m gonna ask it plainly, and completely off the record here, but, when was the last time you got laid?”

The question startled the souled vampire, who looked at Cordelia as if she had spoken in another language.

Apparently not for a long, long time, Cordelia thought.

He blinked once or twice, swallowed hard, “What?”

Cordelia straightened the files on her desk. “I asked when was the last time you got laid... y’know, laid? Shagged. Screwed. Had sex. Fuc--”

“I know what laid means, Cordelia.” He said, pinching the ridge of his nose.

His secretary pursed her lips.

Waited.

....

“So?” Cordelia prompted.

“Cordelia, I’d rather not discuss the topic of--”

“That would mean not for a very, very long time.” Cordelia interrupted with small nod.

“What’s the point?” Angel asked.

“Nothing.” Cordelia shrugged. “Just that if you continue being all stressed out without the proper stress ball you’re gonna blow a fuse.”

“...meaning?”

“Take the plunge.” Cordelia suggested, “Get some happy.”

Angel stared at her. “Are you suggesting--”

“Not suggesting.” Cordelia went on. “Just pointing out the obvious. I mean, it’s nice to play the knight and to wait for the perfect person to do it with if that’s your thing... I mean, I had sex with Xander Harris, and that alone did not help with my stress level much--what was I saying again?”

“I have no idea.” Angel answered.

“Well... I guess I’ll see you tomorrow boss.” Cordelia said.

“Yeah... tomorrow.” Angel nodded.

Sex, Angel thought suddenly. He wasn’t a saint, he had thought of that topic--on many occasions. He was a man, after all, albeit a demon, but a man nonetheless. But when you were at loss at how to live, and spending your days draining rats in alleyways, hiding from the sun and people, living like a hobo--one did not think of sex so much as they thought of when the next meal was going to come. Or when the pain would ebb.

The idea of having it, soon, did have its appeal though. Cordelia did have a point, but he wasn’t about to go off a find some whore, human, vampire, or otherwise, for a quick fix. He didn’t want a demon or any human really... when it came down to it, he wanted Buffy.

But not at all as bluntly as Cordelia had said. No. He wanted it to be special, to be something they would never forget. Something to treasure and to look back at with no regrets.

He wanted to make love to her, as silly as it sounded to him.

But it wasn’t likely to happen soon. They were still somewhere between dating and close friendship, and at times Angel wanted nothing more than to--for lack of a better phrase--take her. There. Which was beginning to be very bad for him, because those moments would be when they were walking down a crowded street. Eating takeout in the office and sauce would catch at the corner of her lips. When Cordelia had dragged them to see her in that God awful play of hers; he had wanted her even then.

Perhaps he should talk to her. That would be best, he thought. Not about sex, no, not at all, but rather the pursue a relationship.

I should ask her if it’s okay to court her properly. Flowers, candy, dates. Things that she would love...

Angel wanted to make memories, many memories with her. Not even of sex, just precious moments where he could hold her, protect her, even from her fate.

At least he would try...

Then a thought occurred to him. What if Buffy--no. No, couldn’t possibly--Buffy wasn’t *that* naive. And even if she was, it wasn’t as if people didn’t know what sex was. If she was old enough to have her period she was old enough to know how it worked--but then again...

Buffy could be *very, very* naive when it came to it. When he spoke to her about some of the things he did as Angelus, she had been confused when he was trying to tell her he would torture his victims physically as well. In a very carnal sense. It had taken a half an hour to fully explain it, and even then, she still didn’t get it.

A quick talk, just to be sure, Angel thought. I want to make sure she knows what she’s getting herself into.

-----

There was something very strange about Angel. Besides the obvious of him being a vampire and a good one. It wasn’t him being strange in general, just the way he had pulled her aside into the basement, set some tea in front of them. He said he had wanted to talk, only he wasn’t talking. Or rather, trying to talk.

It was cute, in an annoying way. He’d start off with some random comment or question, then stop short and look back at his hands or any other place that was ground level.

Cute.

But extremely annoying.

“Spit it out.” Buffy said.

“What?”

Buffy smiled, “Whatever it is that your trying to tell me. Spit it out. Good or bad... I think I can take it. I mean it can’t be that bad...” She suddenly stiffened, “Unless... oh, God, are you sending me away?”

“Buffy--”

“Because--is this about the demon goop I trekked in the other night? Cuz, I was gonna clean it up, but I passed out on the sofa before I could--”

“It’s not about the couch--”

“Then is it the whole Slayer thing? I’ve been taking up too much of your free time--I using up too much of your time! I’m jeopardizing your mission to save people. There could be a girl out there who needs your help, seriously!”

“It’s not that--”

“She could need medical attention--she could have a bastard boyfriend who beats on her, and she could have a baby! A sick baby she has to take care of and all she has to eat are food samples from the deli--”

“Buffy!” Angel nearly growled.

She shrunk meekly.

He sighed, “It’s not that either.”

“Then what is it?” Buffy asked, searching his face.

“It’s...” Angel swallowed. “..it’s...”

“I didn’t hear that last word.”

“It’s sex!” He shouted.

Buffy blanched, then reddened, then started laughing, almost hysterically and Angel thought that perhaps he had traumatized the girl.

( “Sex, Buffy!” Doyle shouted pacing. “It’s not somethin’ to be taken lightly! There’s lots a stuff that goes with it! And not all it is the good kind! It ain’t something to be taken lightly at all! Yer first time could be a complete disaster, y’know? No, ya don’t know! You will never know, ‘cause yer never gonna have sex. Yer going to a convent, that’s what! You’re gonna be the next flyin’ nun, that’s what.”

“Aren’t you being a little insane?” Buffy asked.

“No.” Doyle said, plainly.

“Doyle, I know about sex.” Buffy told him.

His eyes widened. “Who--how? Oh, God, Buffy did you--”

“God, no one!” Buffy shouted. “There’s this thing called Sex Ed. Every kid goes through it sometime during middle school. They teach you all about birds, bees, and then some. And let me just say that they did a better job at explaining this stuff than your doing.”

“Hey, I thought I was doing great!” Doyle protested.”

“A nun, Doyle?”

“...okay, maybe that was a lil’ out of order...” Doyle began, “... Might ya consider takin’ a vow of celibacy?”

“Doyle!”)

“I know about sex, Angel.” Buffy said giggling, “But I think we’re still in pre-dating mode.”

“Oh... well, well that’s good.” Angel nodded, “That you know and everything--”

“Are you ever gonna ask me out?” Buffy asked.

“Okay.”

“...so, did you ask me out?” She lifted a brow.

“Sure.” Angel nodded.

This is gonna take forever, Buffy thought, frustrated.

-----

“You sure everything’s cool? I mean, that whole thing with that demon ring was pretty freaky.”

“I’m fine.”

“Hope so.”

Buffy steered right and Angel followed closely behind. Cemeteries in L.A. were sort of like blemishes on the town. When one thought of L.A. they did not immediately think about its graveyards. At least, Buffy didn’t. Currently, she and Angel were searching one. There had been a family who was found dead two nights ago and were buried somewhere inside. Hopefully, after a quick check, there wouldn’t be any need for slayage.

“I more concerned over the fact that I might have let lose some demons who might start up some future problems for me--for us.” Angel confessed.

“Well, whatever comes, I figure we can handle it.” Buffy started. “I’m in this liberated zone--even though I have no idea why I’m liberated. But I am. Like things are only going to look brighter from here on.”

“An optimist at heart.” Angel commented.

“A positive thinker.” She corrected.

“Well, it’s nice to think that way, I guess.” Angel murmured.

“It would also be nice if we could, y’know, actually do the actual date thing.” Buffy prompted, bluntly. “Maybe after vampire guy over there gets all the way out.”

Angel nodded, spotting the arm that was wriggling slowly out of the dirt. They walked towards it very calmly while Buffy hopped onto the headstone.

“Does it usually take this long?” Buffy asked suddenly.

“To what?” He asked.

“Rise.”

“Oh.” Angel started, “It’s a little disorienting. You’re senses go on overload; the scents, the sounds, it’s all pretty heightened. Plus it hurts like hell for a long while, until you get to... feed.”

“Hmm.” Buffy nodded. “Oh, look here he comes!”

The vampire rose, looking just as disoriented as Angel had described. Buffy offered it a quick smile, then a quick stake. Afterwards, she dusted off her pants, but stayed put. She let out a loud sigh.

“Angel?”

“Hmm?”

“Come over here.”

He glanced at her, then did as she told him. Standing next to her he waited. She smiled at him, reached up and tugged at the collar of his jacket. He bent down and Buffy kissed him sweetly. When she pulled away, her smile had grown and she looked very pleased with herself.

“See?” She flushed softly, “That wasn’t so hard...”

“Guess not.” Angel murmured, before letting go. He pulled her close, kissed her hard, and rejoiced at finally being close to her. The way he wanted to and she responded eagerly, fully focused. So much that she was startled when something yanked on her foot, and pulled away. Buffy let out gasp, “Angel!”

He grabbed the vampires hand and tore it away from Buffy. He pulled the vampire out of the ground, held him until Buffy made him dust. Once he was gone, Buffy and Angel looked at one another for a moment.

Buffy flew forward, pulling him close, and kissing him hard.

The vampires were dead, she did her job.

-----

“Don’t you just love Fridays? I mean, Friday’s are the announcement cards that’s telling you that it’s gonna be the weekend. They have a lot of promise, don’t they? It signals so much.”

Buffy lifted a brow, slurping up the last of the noodles up. “You seem happy. Something happening?”

Cordelia grinned. “Oh, nothing much. By the way, Angel, thanks so much for letting me pick up some of those magic stinky vegetable things from that magic shop.”

“They’re called herbs, Cordelia.” Angel corrected, his hand moving lazily over Buffy’s back.

“Thanks anyway.” Cordy said, taking a sip of her iced tea.

“You’re happy about something.” Buffy said, “I can tell. You’re smiling and I vaguely remember you being less than thrilled going to pick up those ‘stinky vegetables’ last week.”

“I wasn’t mad.” The secretary insisted.

“You were mad.” Angel disagreed. “You were very mad. You said that if I wasn’t help paying for your house, you would have staked me yourself.”

“Okay, so I was mad, but I’m not anymore and I won’t be.” Cordelia admitted.

“I’m sensing a guy somewhere in the mix.” Buffy said, pointedly looking at her friend.

“Well, if you must know, yes, there is a guy.” Cordelia started smiling again, “His name is Ryan, he owns that magic shop place.”

“Wow.” Buffy started, “I never figured you’d be the type to go for magic guys.”

“My type isn’t restricted or anything.” Cordelia protested, “Anyway, Ryan’s different. He’s cute and funny, and he knows what he’s talking about. Not to mention he has a really good car--a--”

“Ryan’s a good guy.” Angel interrupted. “Second class witch--leads a coven of good witches. They meet on Thursdays.”

“Neat.” Buffy said as Angel handed her the sweet and sour chicken. She smiled brightly and murmured a thank you.

“Anyway, I was about to ask Mr. Boss-man if I could have the rest of the day off. I have a date--”

“Go ahead, get out of here.” Angel said with a small smile.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Cordelia hurriedly gathered her things, and with a small wave, was off.

“That’s nice.” Buffy started, poking at the chicken. “Cordelia’s got somebody now. He’s okay right?”

Angel nodded.

“But its nice.” Buffy chewed on some chicken. “That she has somebody.”

“Are you upset about Doyle and her?” Angel asked suddenly.

She looked at him. “No.. I mean, not really. I mean, I knew she would have to move on and everything but... a part of me was sort of hoping she’d devote the rest of her life to my brother--which is really, really stupid of me.”

“It’s okay.” Angel touched her cheek. “Besides, I’d think Doyle would want us to be happy, right?”

She leaned forward and kissed him.

“Right.”

-----

Buffy sighed, it was finally happening. After months and weeks, and almost an entire year, it was finally happening. She and Angel were on an official date. After there smooch fest in the cemetery, they had shared many moments like that, even more so. But didn’t change the fact that they had not be on a date--which was something that Buffy wanted, very much.

And now here she was, curled up beside Angel on the roof of his building on some laid out blankets and pillows. Angel had once said that he had wanted to go out in the sun with her, have picnics and go to the beach, watching the sunset. She had proposed a picnic under the stars and she was loving it.

Not to mention the nice little set up of sandwiches and such that he had made just for her.

Buffy snuggled closer to Angel, looking up at the sky. “Mm. This is heaven.”

Angel chuckled.

“I mean it, it really is.” Buffy smiled. “I’m so comfy. You’re very comfy.”

“I’m probably making you cold.” Angel whispered.

“No, you’re not.” She leaned in closer, “You’re just comfy. Mm. I don’t want to move, do we have to move?”

“Before sunrise.” He said.

“Right.” She nodded. “I wouldn’t want that either, toasted boyfriend... bad thoughts. Moving on.”

“Are you okay?” Angel asked a moment later.

“Doyle’s... y’know is coming up.” Buffy murmured. “I’m just a bit--did I mention your comfy? You’re really comfy.”

He chuckled. Then, become still. The silence between them was natural and comforting. The city was never quiet, but it was a welcomed background noise. And the stars were oddly bright this night.

“Angel?”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

-----

The bed was warm and comfortable. So much so, that Buffy didn’t want to move. Ever. Again. But alas, it was another school day, which meant she’d have to move sometime. Soon, in fact.

“Don’t you have school today?”

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Cause I wanna lay on you and bask.” Buffy replied, stretching against him. “Plus, you feel nice.”

“I’m naked.” Angel said.

“I know.” Buffy said with a grin, leaning forward for a kiss that didn’t last as long as she hoped.

“Even so, you still have to go to school.”

“Why?” She whined.

“To further your education.” Angel started. “To gain knowledge... because I think Doyle would want you to go to school--”

“First of all, do not mention my brother when we’re naked, together, in bed. That does nothing for the mood. Secondly, Doyle would want his little sister to have a nice relaxing day after a hard night of vampire slayage.” Buffy argued.

“I’m not saying I don’t want you.” Angel said, pulling her closer and bestowing a kiss onto her nose. “I’m just saying that you shouldn’t have to blow of school because of me.”

“I’m not. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Angel raised a brow. “Remember what you said about how you believed the dead was watching over us?”

“...yeah...”

“What do you think Doyle’s doing now?”

“...”

Buffy got up. “I have to go to school.”

Angel smiled before Buffy gently whacked him with a pillow.

“Spoilsport.”

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