Pairing: Cordelia/Doyle
Spoilers: 1x09- Hero
Disclaimer: I'm a high school student. I wasn't even 10 yet when "Hero" aired. And in case you're really slow, that means I don't own it.
("I would have chosen the pleasures of the flesh over duty and honor any day of the week. I just don't have that kind of strength.")
His lips glide across hers, and she feels something she's never felt before. Her heart races in a way she thought was just a myth, her stomach does somersaults, and she feels as if she's flying.
The next day, she'll make herself believe that everything she felt was her body preparing for the visions. Or side effects of the visions transferring to her. Whatever.
But, for now, the thought has never even crossed her mind.
("Come on, you lived and loved and lost and fought and vanquished inside a day, and I'm still trying to work up the courage to ask Cordy out for dinner, not to mention the part about telling her that I'm half demon. That should probably come first, huh?")
He pulls away, and gets all spiky, and grrr.
"I guess we'll never know if this is a face you could learn to love."
("The good fight, yeah? You never know until you've been tested? I get that now.")
She doesn't see Angel stir, or hear him yell. Every part of her is focused on the half-demon flying through the air, struck dumb with the realization that this half-demon is the man she loves. She can only watch as he wrestles with the cables, and his obvious agony, for the lives of a pack of strange demon-people, who barely even know who he is.
("Well, if it's a fight they want, then—can't someone else give it to them?)
She feels arms wrap around her, desperate arms, pulling her in close. She recognizes Angel, not by the cold stillness of the chest pressed to her cheek, but by the misery she can somehow...sense in him, the misery that mirrors her own.
("We'll manage, Princess. We always do.)
Her eyes stay fixed upon the patch of air that used to be Doyle, tears blurring the background into something she could almost mistake for him.
("If you need help, then look no farther. Angel Investigations is the best! Our rats are low-")
She hasn't cried enough, yet she can't cry any more.
("It says 'rats.' Or rates are low, but our standards are high. When the chips are down, and you're at the end of your rope, you need someone that you can count on. And that's what you'll find here- someone who will go all the way, no matter what.")
She paces her apartment. She can hear Dennis making tea for her in the kitchen, which comforts her, a little.
("So don't lose hope.")
She fingers the videotape. She saw it once, with Angel, but she can remember every word, every expression on Doyle's face as if it were yesterday.
It was yesterday.
("Come on over to our offices, and you'll see that there's still heroes in this world.")
Yesterday, he'd been a regular man. A regular man who she refused to fall in love with, because he was a loser, and the last loser she'd been with had broken her heart into pieces. Yesterday, she'd only been beginning to realize that her feelings for him were not just a repeat of her feelings for Xander, that Doyle cared for her in a way that Xander never had. Yesterday, she had finally decided that she wanted to start a relationship with him.
Then, yesterday, he became a half demon. No, she knew he always had been a half demon. But yesterday was when she found out. She wanted to be with him in spite of all of that.
Yesterday, he had become a hero.
("Is that it?)
She took the tape into her bed, and hugged it so tightly she was surprised it didn't snap. Finally, the tears came again. They poured down her face, drenching her pillow, as she cried herself to sleep.
("Am I done?")