Uncharted Memories
Roswell / Angel Crossover set pre-'Cry Your Name' (R) and pre-'Hero' (A)
Doyle experiences a vision in which he sees a young teenage boy killed by a stranger and unknown force, which leads him to Roswell with Cordelia and Angel in tow. Although in Roswell, their search brings them to the aliens where the two groups learn the truth about each other and begin to realise Doyle's vision could affect one of their own.
"I really think we should do some leaflets. Getting your face out there could really help - " Cordelia paused, turned to look at Angel and sighed. "Well, maybe not your face, but puting the word around will really help business. Hey maybe we can stick some business cards in phone booth's, too; you know, for when people are being chased by some evil, hairy demon spouting green guts and run to call for help."
Allan Francis Doyle smirked at Angel and walked over to where Cordelia was leaning against the desk. Putting an arm around her, he squeezed gently.
"That's a great idea, Cordy." He said. "You can put on your sexy voice when all the fat, horny men call asking to speak to Angel."
Doyle and Angel laughed in unison at the thought as Cordy just stood there, looking slightly irritated.
"Okay," She spoke through gritted teeth. "Why don't you come up with some life-altering idea then, you ... big, fat leprechaun!"
Looking at Doyle, Angel was pleasantly surprised. He hadn't been himself lately. He had turned up to work either with a hangover most mornings or tired through lack of sleep. Something had been bugging him and Angel could tell it was important. He would talk to him; just as soon as he did what needed done. Taking a watering can over to his two potted plants sitting either side of the desk, he began his chores.
"Come on, Angel; I mean what really is your fascination with plants all about? It's bordering on unhealthy." Doyle asked, just as Cordy pulled free from his grasp and left the room.
"What I have, Doyle is a very healty relationship with Lillian and Patricia. I mean, who doesn't love plants? They're like babies, they grow, live and depend on us."
Just as Doyle what about to make a sarcastic comment in reply, he was knocked backwards, flying across the desk by a sudden sharp uncontrolable pain in his head. Lying on the desk, he struggled to sit up and gain his balance as he clutched his head with his hand.
After a few seconds, the pain mostly subsided, allowing his visions to appear.
"There's a girl," he told Angel. ",around seventeen. Blonde. She's climbing in a window. She's using some sort of power to break the lock. Dark haired boy. She's using her power to put some sort of spell on him." He stopped and screamed out in agony as the sharp pain impaled him once more.
"It's a car accident." He continued, rasping for breath. "It's the boy. He's dead. Suicide. It's saying something about suicide. That's wrong. It was her! She did it to him! She did it!" He stopped abruptly as the affliction wore off.
Taking deep breaths, he realised he was now on the floor, where Cordelia sat beside him, her arm wrapped around his shoulder and the other holding his hand. She squeezed tightly and helped him up, with the aid of Angel.
"It was kinda vague, Doyle. Was there anything else? Where was it? What sort of demon was she?" Angel querried, looking at the notepad where he had jotted down the information.
Doyle sat there for a moment, thinking aobut what Angel said. This girl . . . she wasn't like anything he had ever seen before. Unique would have been the word for her if she wasn't a killer; but unfortunately she was. It was no surprise to Doyle that she had appeared in his vision. Her face, her smell, her power . . . he had seen it all before. At night, she plagued him in his dreams. Blood and slaughter; death and destruction - he had seen it all and she was at the helm of it all.
"She wasn't a demon, Angel. She was special and not in a good way. She's evil and powerful to boot. She's in Roswell." He nearly chocked on the words as they escaped from his mouth. "She's in Roswell."