A/N: This story will eventually become a Connor/OC story. But I want to go through all the episodes as to establish my character better. The last chap took place before the first episode of Angel. Up until Connor arrives, you'll be learning about Shade because I didn't want to be another writer who just inserted my character randomly in the middle of a series. J If you have any questions/comments feel free to leave a comment or send me a message.

Disclaimer: I do not own Angel or anything/person associated with. Angel is owned by Joss Whedon.

Chapter 2: City Of

Once again, Angel had left me alone at home. Every time he left I felt as if I should have gone with him. I didn't like being left alone. I don't know why though. It's not like I was afraid or anything. Sighing in boredom, I turned on the T.V.

Halfway through some random cartoon I heard a knock on the door for the office upstairs. Even though I was human, I had unreasonably good hearing. I turned off the telly and used the elevator to get upstairs.

Opening the door I found a man in about his 20's with dark hair and brown eyes.

"Oh, uh, I'm lookin' for Angel?" He asked me, he had a very prominent Irish accent.

I felt a surge of electricity run through me, and somehow, I knew this man was important.

"You may come in. Angels not home yet." I told him, opening the door wide enough for him to walk through.

"I didn't know he was takin' care of any kids." The man said as he walked through the door and opening a bottle of beer he had in his hand.

"My name is Shade. Angel found me in an alley. I don't know who or where I come from." I explained.

He nodded and took another drink from his beer.

"I'm Doyle." He told me.

"Why are you here?" I asked then motioned for him to follow me down to Angel's apartment.

"The Powers That Be sent me. Guess you could call me vision boy." He replied.

Powers That Be. Huh, that sounded familiar to me.

"Vision boy?" I asked curiously.

"Ya know, like I have visions. Brain pictures that hurt like hell." He explained.

"Oh. Make yourself at home, I guess." I told him then went off to my cot in the small room next to Angel's, eager to think. I wanted to try and remember why the Powers That Be sounded familiar. Maybe then I could start remembering who I was.

-3rd person P.O.V-

Angel, finally home, walks into his apartment and over to his weapons cabinet, puts away his weapons, and takes his shirt off. He freezes, when he sees a stranger in his apartment.

"I like the place. I mean it's not much with the view, but it has a nice bat-cave sort of an air to it." Doyle told him taking a sip of another beer.

"Who are you?" Angel asked him, beginning to wonder what had happened to Shade.

Doyle picked up a deck of cards and shuffled them.

"Doyle." He replied to Angel.

Angel looked at him suspiciously.

"You don't smell human." He told Doyle.

"Now that's a bit rude. So happens that I am very much human." Doyle told him, acting offended but then he sneezed and became covered in purple spikes. He shook his head and the spikes disappeared.

"On my mother's side." Doyle added to his last sentence.

Angel looked unconvinced.

"Well, I could have come in uninvited, so you know I'm not a vampire like yourself." He told Angel, as if the spikes didn't make that obvious.

"What do you want? And where is Shade?" Angel asked Doyle. He could have sworn he told her not to let strangers into the apartment.

"No worries. She's around here somewhere. Anyway, I've been sent. – By the Powers That Be." Doyle explained.

-1st person P.O.V-

I heard talking in the living room, it sounded like Angel and Doyle. So I got up off my cot, and made my way to where they were.

I peered through the doorway to listen to their conversation.

"The powers that be what?" I heard Angel ask.

"Let me tell you a little bedtime story." Doyle said, changing the subject of who sent him.

"But I'm not sleepy." Angel replied.

Doyle pretended he didn't hear Angel's reply, and started his story.

"Once upon a time there was a vampire. And he was the meanest vampire in all the land. All the other vampires were afraid of him, he was such a - bastard. Then one day he's cursed – by gypsies. They restore his human soul. And all of a sudden he is mad with guilt. You know: 'What have I done?' You know, he's freaked." Doyle said to Angel.

I was curious, who was Doyle talking about?

"Okay. Now I'm sleepy." Angel said, and sat down on the sofa. He had obviously heard this bedtime story before.

"Yeah, well, it's a fairly dull tale. It needs a little sex, is my feeling. So sure enough: enter the girl. Pretty little blonde thing, Vampire Slayer by trade. And our vampire falls madly in love with her. Eventually the two of them, - well, they get fleshy with one another. Well, I guess the technical term is perfect happiness. But when our boy gets there, he goes bad again. He kills again. It's ugly. So when he gets his soul back for the second time, he figures hey, he can't be any where near Miss young puppy eyes without endangering them both. So what does he do? He takes off. Goes to LA. To fight evil - and atone for his crimes. He's a shadow, - a faceless champion of the hapless human race. – Say you wouldn't have a beer of any kind in here, would you?" Doyle says finishing his story.

"No." Angel replied.

"Come on, you must have something besides pig's blood!" Doyle whined.

"Okay. You've told me the story of my life, but since I was there, I already knew. So why aren't I kicking you out?" Angel replied, ignoring Doyle's want for alcohol.

So, it was Angel's life story. So that's why Angel was in LA. I had wondered. That also explained why he was the only nice vampire.

Doyle walked over to the fridge to help himself. He moved around the fruit Angel bought for me and picked up two bags of blood.

"Because now I'm going to tell you what happens next. You see this vampire, he thinks he's helping. Fighting the demons. Staying away from the human's so as not to be tempted. Doing penance in his little - cell. But he's cut off. From every thing. From the people he's trying to help." Doyle said, and jiggles the bags a little.

"I still save 'em. Who cares if I don't stop to chat." Angel asked.

"When was the last time you drank blood?" Doyle asked, starting to make his point.

"Buffy." Angel whispered.

"Left you with a bit of a craving, didn't it? Let me tell you something, pal, that craving is going to grow and one day soon one of those helpless victims that you don't really care about is going to look way too appetizing to turn down. And you'll figure hey! what's one against all I've saved? Might as well eat them. I'm still ahead by the numbers! You know I'm parched from all this yakking, man. Let's go treat me to a Billy Dee." Doyle replied, putting back the blood.

"Hey! You're not going to leave me again, are you?" I asked, popping out from the doorway.

"How long have you been hiding there?" Angel asked.

"The beginning of the story. I liked how you told it." I replied, the last sentence I told to Doyle.

"Thank you." He replied.

"You can come. This time." Angel relents.

-Later walking down a street-

Doyle was carrying a brown bag of alcohol. I think he might have a bit of a problem. But it's his life.

"It's not all about fighting and gadgets and stuff. It's about reaching out to people, showing them that there's love and hope still left in the world." Doyle continued on his and Angel's earlier conversation.

And as we were walking across the street an old homeless lady walked up to us, asking for spare change.

"Get a job, you lazy sow." Doyle told her, and kept walking.

He was a bit rude.

"Here." I handed her the $5 Angel had given me for allowance earlier in the week.

"Thank you." She smiled and walked off.

"Your just encouraging their laziness." Doyle told me. I stuck my tongue out at him in response.

"It's about letting them into your heart. It's not about saving lives; it's about saving souls. Hey, possibly your own in the process." Doyle says, continuing his earlier statement.

"I want to know who sent you." Angel said, continuing his earlier question.

I too, was a little curious, seeing it as I couldn't remember why the PTB were familiar.

"I'm honestly not sure. They don't speak to me direct. I get - visions. Which is to say great splitting migraines that come with pictures. A name – a face. I don't know who sends them. I just know whoever sends them is more powerful than me or you, and their just trying to make things right." Doyle responded.

I furrowed my brow. I know, I know, I know, who they are. But I can't remember.

"Why me?" Angel asked.

"Because you've got potential. And the balance sheet isn't exactly in your favor." Doyle replied.

Doyle knew a lot, for just names and faces in his visions.

"Well why you?" Angel asked.

"Because he's important. I think." I replied for Doyle. Angel looked at me sideways with a strange expression.

"And how would you know?" He asked me.

I shrugged.

"I dunno. I just like Doyle I guess" I answered.

Doyle smiled at me and nodded his head in my direction, acknowledging my statement.

"We all got something to atone for. Had a vision this morning. When the blinding pain stopped I wrote this down." Doyle said, ignoring me. He reached into his pocket and handed Angel a folded up piece of paper.

Angel took it and read it.

"Tina." He read aloud.

"Nice looking girl, needs help." Doyle said.

"Help with what?" I asked. Taking the paper from Angel and reading the whole thing for myself.

"That's Angel's business. I just take the names." He told me.

"I don't get it. How am I supposed to know…" Angel started, not sure how to finish his question.

"You're supposed to get into her life, remember? Get involved. Look, High School's over, boy. It's time to make with the grown up talk." Doyle told him.

"Why would a woman I've never met even talk to me?" Angel asked.

Doyle laughed and answered: "Have you looked into a mirror lately, No, I guess you really haven't, no." He laughed again.

"I'm not good with people." Angel reasoned.

"I think you are." I told him and he patted my hair in response.

"Well that's the whole point of this little exercise, isn't it? Are you game?" Doyle asked.

-Later-

Angel had left. AGAIN. And I was home with Doyle, waiting for his return.

"You wanna play a game?" I asked Doyle.

"Sure. You know how to play black jack?" He asked.

I shook my head no.

"You know what? That's ok. I should probably get goin' anyway." He replied getting up and leaving.

Alone again. Yippee.

A few hours later and I had gone to bed. Curled into my cot to sleep.

Morning came, and I found I had slept through our house-guest who had came and left quickly. Angel had decided he was going to help her, but she still died in the end. So, He called Doyle over to help. He explained to us what had occurred between him, Tina, and some Russell guy.

"The guy' trying to take her at the party was called Stacy." Angel told Doyle.

"First name or last?" Doyle replied.

"I don't know. Professional muscle, probably done some time." Angel told him.

"I can ask around." Doyle said.

"Great. Start with the car. Grey '87 Black Mercedes 300E, going to need some serious work on the bumper. Call the chop shops." Angel handed Doyle a phone book.

"Can I help?" I asked.

Angel shook his head.

"Too dangerous." He replied.

"How is calling places dangerous?" I asked him.

He ignored me and continued what he was doing. Man, I was starting to dislike being ignored all the time.

"I know a couple that ain't in the book, too." Doyle said, also ignoring me.

"The guy in the car leads me to Stacy. Stacy leads me to Russell." Angel said.

"You couldn't have known she was going to run out on you like that." Doyle told Angel, realizing he was blaming himself for Tina's death.

"Forget it. Let's get to work." Angel told him.

"You can't cut yourself off from…" Doyle started.

"Doyle, I don't want to share my feelings, I don't want to open up. I want to find Russell and I want to look him in the eye." Angel explained.

"Then what?" Doyle asked.

"Then I'm going to share my feelings." Angel told him.

A bit later Angel had found the guy named Stacy and where Russell was living. And He and Doyle had decided to leave me at home and go destroy this vampire Russell.

Angel had given me strict orders to stay home. But I really hate staying home. I always stay home. So I hid myself in the trunk of his car. It probably wasn't my best idea, because Doyle was a bumpy driver.

A long, bumpy ride in the trunk later, and I felt the car come to a stop. I then heard muffled speaking, then all was quiet.

Ten minutes later, I felt the car moving again, and then I was flung to the side as Doyle made a quick turn, and before I knew what was happening, I heard screaming, then was slammed into the back of the trunk.

"OWIE!" I yelled as I hit my head on the door.

The trunk flew open and there stood Doyle with his arms crossed.

"Hey! This isn't the bathroom! Now how'd I get here?" I pretended.

"Nuh-huh. Not buying it. Get in the front of the car. Angel's gonna be mad at you." Doyle said as he yanked me out of the trunk and put me in the front seat of the car. I looked around, and realized that what had caused me to fly into the back of the trunk was that Doyle had crashed Angel's car into the gate at Russell's mansion.

"I think he's going to be more angry with you for killing his car." I told Doyle, who looked at me with a very angry expression.

A few seconds later, I felt a burning pain in my shoulder, it hurt so bad I began to cry.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Doyle asked, now worried.

"I hurt." I replied clutching my shoulder.

Doyle pulled my shirt back a bit to expose my shoulder.

"I don't see nothing." He told me.

But, as soon as the pain had come, it was gone again.

"I feel better." I told him, but he looked at me strangely.

I think he probably would have said something except Angel and some woman came running to the car. Angel was obviously hurt.

"You know, I've had a bit of an accident, but we'll talk later…" Doyle trails off.

Angel slumps into the back seat, and I jump back to sit with him, and the girl gets into the passengers seat. And Doyle sped off. I put my hand of Angel's shoulder. He was bleeding.

"What happened?" I asked.

"He got shot. Can you believe someone would shoot at me?" The girl replied.

"He's bleeding." I said to her.

"I'll be fine." Angel grunted out. He was obviously in great pain.

"So, uh, who are you people again?" The girl asked of me and Doyle.

"I'm Doyle. And that's Shade in the back." Doyle informed her.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Cordelia. I'm an actress." She told us.

The moment she introduced herself, I felt that electricity feeling I felt when I first met Doyle. And I knew, we would be seeing a lot more of this girl.

Back at home, Doyle pulled the bullet out of Angel's shoulder. And I felt a small sting. Strange. Oh well. I shrugged it off.

"Got it!" He said triumphantly.

"Finally! I thought I was going to faint while barfing! Okay. Sorry. So, it's over, right? We're going to be okay. You put the fear of God into that Russell guy. He's not going to come looking for me, right?" Cordelia said while bandaging Angel's wound.

We all just stared at each other. I guess nobody knew how to reply to that.

The next day, Angel had set out to kill Russell, and while he was gone, Doyle and Cordelia invited themselves over. Doyle went downstairs, and Cordelia busied herself cleaning, and getting into stuff.

"So, like, you live with Angel?" She asked me as I watched her. Last night we had explained to her why I was staying with Angel, so I was a little annoyed that she was asking again.

"Yes." I replied.

"Well, I'm going to have to take you shopping because you obviously need better style." She told me.

I think that was meant to mean that she wanted to spend time with me, but it was a little mean.

"Umm thanks." I replied.

"And maybe we can rethink that name Angel gave you." She said.

"No thanks. I think I like being Shadow." I replied.

And right then, instead of replying, she let out a blood curdling scream.

Angel and Doyle burst through the doorway from down in the apartment, they had come to see what was wrong.

Cordelia pointed the feather duster she was holding to a corner of the office.

"Ah! Look over there! A cockroach! In the corner. I think it's a bantam weight! Okay, first thing. We need to call an exterminator – and a sign painter. We should have a name on the door!" She told Angel.

He got a very confused look on his face.

"Okay. I'm confused." He told us.

"Doyle filled me in on your little mission. So I was just saying, if we're going to help people, maybe a small charge. You know, something to help pay the rent, and my salary. You need somebody to organize things, and you're not exactly rolling in it Mr. I-was-alive-for-200-years-and-never-developed-an-investment-portfolio." She explained in reply.

"You want to charge people?" Angel asked her.

"Thank-you Captain states the obvious." I told him, earning a stern look in response.

"Well, not everybody. But sooner or later we are going to have to help some rich people, right? Right?" Came her reply.

"Possibly, yeah." Doyle told her. It was obvious he wanted to impress her by agreeing with her.

"I think it's a good idea. Maybe you could even give me a bigger allowance!" I chipped in.

"I think five dollars is a pretty reasonable allowance for someone who was supposed to stay home." Angel replied, still upset with me disobeying him the other night.

"Poopy-head." I said then stuck my tongue out at him, causing Doyle to chuckle.

"Hand me that box. So I think that we should charge based on a case-by-case analysis, but with me working for a flat fee. – I mean, um…that is, - if you think that you can use me?" Cordelia went on, ignoring my last comment.

Angel handed her the box she asked for with a small smile, that meant he gave in, Cordelia was staying!

"Of course this is just temporary - until my inevitable stardom takes affect." She told him as she took the box from him, and walked off.

I skipped off after Cordelia, glad to have a new friend.

"Cordy? About that shopping trip you mentioned earlier…" I started.

"Yes?" She replied.

"I can't wait!" I told her then skipped off to play.