Should've Tried The Doorbell
On the never-ending list of reasons why Cordelia was an utter failure as an administrative assistant the one that was creating a problem for Angel most right now would be her lack of a coherent filing system.
He could understand that she didn't want to work on a Saturday night. She had a social life that he truthfully knew nothing about but that seemed to be very important to her. He didn't even mind the fact that she would sometimes pop out of the office at random times in the middle of the day to go to auditions because a lot of their real work was done at night anyway and although she would often complain, she would always go along if he needed her there. Some weeks they really were all pulling well over 40 hours in the name of helping the helpless, a job he knew not a lot of people would be willing to do, so he tried to keep the amount of times he berated her for her incompetency with office work to a minimum.
However, just because she didn't want to work that night, didn't mean he wasn't going to and in order to get any research done, he needed to have the file for their latest case that Cordelia had put together and conveniently left somewhere he couldn't find. He had tried calling her apartment but he couldn't seem to get through and she didn't have a cell phone although he kept hinting to her that perhaps she should think about putting her paycheck towards one instead of buying more clothes.
So he had no choice but to do things the old-fashioned way, a way he was more accustomed to than most, and simply go to her apartment and hope she was home. It was around midnight so he figured that he had a 50/50 shot of catching her. Either she was out at a party or something and having a good time or she had decided to call it an evening early and was at home in her pajamas, probably still awake and watching television. If she wasn't around, he figured that she probably wouldn't be out much later than two in the morning and he could patrol around the area until then.
He knocked on her door a few times and then waited, looking around behind him instinctually for anything suspicious. The area actually seemed pretty dead aside from cars passing by: no lights on in the other apartments, barely anyone walking the streets. There was some annoying honking and shouting coming from a few blocks away that his exquisite hearing tuned into but as it faded away another set of sounds became more audible.
First he heard low groans like someone had been punched in the stomach, a sound he was rather familiar with although he wasn't quite sure of the gender of the speaker. He leaned over the railing of the stairs and searched below for someone who may be lying on the ground in pain.
Then he heard something that sounded more like cries, now distinctly feminine. Although they would be barely able to be heard by human ears, he could hear them clearly and now found the source: inside Cordelia's apartment. He felt a chill run down his spine as he started to wonder if she was in trouble. He grabbed the door handle and turned it. Finding it locked, he knocked again, more urgently than before.
The second the cries turned into screams, he didn't think. He kicked down the door, knocking it entirely off its hinges and sending it flying into her living room. At the sound of his breaking and entering, Cordelia let loose an even louder scream that lead him straight into her bedroom, the door of which was thankfully open a crack and would not have to suffer the same fate as his first obstacle had. He flung it open, his eyes instantly falling on some sort of green-skinned demon holding Cordelia down to the bed, around which he could just barely see her face contorted in fear. He ran towards the beast, picking it up with very little effort and throwing it against the wall. His mind solely focused on making the thing pay for hurting his friend, he only barely heard Cordelia shouting out, "What the hell?! ANGEL!" over the sound of the demon hitting the wall and then the floor.
He grabbed the face-down demon by the neck and pulled it into a headlock. He hadn't travelled with many weapons aside from his wrist-mounted stakes which he now regretted. Not everything died with a stab through the heart but it was probably worth a shot. If not, stabbing the head or breaking the neck were always good recipes for dead demon.
"ANGEL!" Cordelia called again, finally getting through to him.
"What?!" he asked, looking back towards her still laying on the bed. It was only now that he noticed that she was under the covers, her bare shoulders and arms the only thing visible as she clutched the sheets around herself like she was trying to cover up.
"Well, I didn't think celibacy was a company-wide policy!" she growled angrily, glowering at him like she would be killing him if she was armed and not without clothes on.
Angel felt his brain short-circuiting at her statement as his mouth fell open in shocked confusion.
This wasn't an attack? She wanted to be in bed with this . . .
"Doyle?!" he called out stunned, finally getting a good look at the demon in his grasp and finding instead, the very human face of his other coworker.
"Hey, pal," Doyle said, his voice slightly muffled as Angel was still crushing his throat with his grip. "Would ya mind lettin' me go?"
For a second, Angel stood still, trying to process all the information he had just taken in. Not only had he walked in on Doyle and Cordelia in bed together and with Doyle in his demon form at that (when did he tell her?!), he had also been so convinced that she needed to be saved that he hadn't recognized Doyle's other face, pummeled him a bit, and now had his very naked friend pressed up against him.
He let him go quickly and took a giant step away while Doyle tried to catch his breath and remain standing after the abuse he had endured.
"What are you doing here?" Cordelia demanded at Angel. "Better question: what the hell were you thinking?!"
Angel looked down at the floor in embarrassment. "I thought you were in trouble," he admitted sheepishly.
"Trouble?" Cordelia said dubiously. Doyle crossed his arms and raised his brows, both of them clearly looking for a decent explanation.
Angel glanced up at Cordelia.
"I heard noises!" he insisted. "You were screaming!"
Cordelia rolled her eyes.
Doyle smirked triumphantly.
"And you thought I was being raped by a demon?" she scoffed. "What kind of self-respecting demon would want to have sex with a human?"
"Hey!" Doyle shouted in annoyance.
"Oh, you don't count," she said, waving him away with her hand. "You're half-human."
"And half-demon." He added emphatically. "And in order for me to be half-human and half-demon my human mother and my demon father would have to . . ." he trailed off, his face descending into an expression of utter horror. "Damn you for making me think about my own conception!"
Cordelia shook her head and covered her face with her hand while Angel shifted uncomfortably.
"Are you going to put on some clothes?" Angel asked Doyle nonchalantly, reminding them that Angel was still very much in the room and that the part of his brain that tells him he's in an awkward situation and should leave is apparently broken.
Doyle shrugged. "I've got nothin' to be ashamed of," he said casually but with an underlying touch of pride.
Cordelia rolled her eyes again and let out a loud groan of frustration.
"Get. Out." She muttered through gritted teeth.
Both Angel and Doyle started dejectedly trudging towards the door.
"Not you, dumbass," she said, addressing Doyle.
Doyle stopped walking away and let out a sigh of relief as Angel also stopped and turned towards him and then Cordelia.
"I'm sorry," he said earnestly.
"Yeah, well, don't expect me to come in on Monday," Cordelia informed him. "I'm getting a paid day off for severe emotional trauma."
"Fair enough," he agreed with a nod, making his exit.
When they thought he had left Cordelia and Doyle exchanged confounded glances for a second before Angel stuck his head through the door frame.
"Where's the Palmer file?" he asked.
Cordelia glared stakes at him.
"Second desk drawer on the right," Doyle answered for her since she didn't seem to want to let up on her stare.
"Thanks," he said monotonously and finally left the apartment, the sound of a front door being propped back into place being the sign that he was actually gone for good this time.
Doyle looked back at Cordelia and smiled, crawling back onto the bed.
"So where were we?" he asked, grinning.
She gave him a very serious look.
"We were at the point where we go assess the damage done to my door so I can invoice Angel for repairs on Tuesday."