49. Double or Nothing, Part III

There had been a very loud crunching sound when Angel's axe went through the wooden door, sending splintered wood in all directions. It was the sort of entrance one would expect from a valiant hero like Angel. The sort of entrance that caused everyone to freeze and look—including Jenoff who had been a hair's breadth away from taking Gunn's soul.

It had been a good start to the haphazard rescue operation. Enter the formidable figure with the axe and his ragtag group of armed warriors. Unfortunately, things had quickly spiraled from there.

Dispatching the three burly bouncer-types in the front vestibule was no problem, but once they'd actually made it onto the gaming floor of the casino, the tables rapidly turned. Nearly every individual in the place was a demon, and every single one of them was loyal to the man who owned the joint.

Outnumbered and surrounded, it had been up to Angel to cease the fight, step forward and negotiate. A good plan in theory. Angel had a tendency to negotiate with threats of violence, and generally speaking, they were quite effective. Unfortunately, in this instance, Angel opted for another strategy, one that turned Doyle's insides to mush.

The vampire with a soul decided he was a betting man, after all.

"Double or nothing." Doyle muttered to himself, still shaking his head in disbelief. He stood with Cordelia, Fred, Nixa and Groo on the other side of a velvet rope, engrossed in the happenings at the high-stakes table where Angel was currently seated. "Didn't see that coming."

"I really hope there's more to this plan than meets the eye." Cordelia grumbled nervously. Her arm was linked through Doyle's as she regarded the card dealer warily.

Doyle frowned as his eyes moved away from Angel and scanned the rest of the room. Amidst the spinning roulette wheels and twinkling slot machines was a sea of faces Doyle recognized. Not one of them was what he would call friendly. There was at least one demon by the bar who wanted to break every bone in his body, and another by the craps table who wished him dead. Then there was the guy leaning by the VIP lounge who didn't just want to kill him, but probably wanted to do it in as painful a manner as possible. It would have been unsettling if not for the fact that his best friend could lose his soul and go homicidal in a matter of seconds. If that happened, it was a good bet that none of those other demons would have a shot to kill Doyle before Angelus did the job.

Not exactly a comforting thought.

Doyle felt a wave of queasiness wash over him.

"I find this tournament most peculiar, sire." Nixaleen whispered from over Doyle's shoulder. Both she and her undefeated champion of a brother had joined the melee, despite the fact that Nixaleen had no actual fighting experience and was, in fact, of very little help. "There is no show of strength or agility. How can a numerical value etched onto parchment determine who is the more worthy champion?"

"Dumb luck." Doyle grunted in reply.

Fred stood beside him nervously wringing her hands. She looked like she wanted to use all 90 pounds of herself to battle her way across the room and be at Gunn's side. Meanwhile, Gunn's head was hung in shame at having dragged his friends into such a dangerous situation—that was certainly a feeling Doyle could empathize with. In fact, if it wasn't for the hard lessons Doyle had learned in the past, he might find himself yielding to the siren's call of the tables himself. As it was, he had learned, and he wasn't willing to risk his happiness with Cordelia for all the money in Vegas.

Not that anyone in this establishment would allow Doyle anywhere near a table with all his limbs intact. That was a major deterrent as well.

Jenoff tossed a deck of cards on the table where Angel sat, nodding for the dealer to begin shuffling, which he obediently did. The grin on Jenoff's face told Doyle he wasn't sweating this for a second. "One hand of cards. If you win, this man..." He hoisted a thumb over his shoulder at Gunn. "...walks free. If I win, I keep his soul, and I get yours."

Angel gave a curt nod of agreement and Doyle felt his stomach do another flip-flop. He knew Angel was a decent card-player, but decent wouldn't cut it if the deck was stacked against him.

"Name your game." Jenoff prodded. "Omaha, Texas Hold 'Em, Seven Card Stud...?"

Angel looked from Jenoff to his dealer and then back at Jenoff, as he considered his options. "How about a simple cut of the deck?" He proposed. "High card wins."

Jenoff grinned; Doyle groaned.

"The vampire's not only got a soul, he's also got guts." The Soul Sucker said with a chuckle. Behind him, various minions, including the Repo Man, joined in the brouhaha.

"What's that you were saying about dumb luck?" Cordelia whispered through a tight smile.

Jenoff gave a nod to the dealer, who completed his shuffling with a fancy riffle and then laid the deck on the table, face down.

"Feeling lucky?" Jenoff asked.

Angel didn't move, didn't blink. "After you."

Jenoff's grin broadened as he reached out and let his hand hover over the deck. A long beat passed, before he finally made a cut, and turned his card over.

Jack of Clubs.

A murmur rippled throughout the room. Jenoff maintained his smirk, which was understandable. Statistically speaking, it wasn't going to be easy for Angel to beat his card selection.

As Angel raised his fingers to his lips and blew on them for luck, Doyle gulped loudly. The vampire's fingertips inched forward, closer and closer to the moment of truth and Doyle found himself holding his breath.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, Doyle spotted something that made him exhale, even before Angel had flipped the card. One familiar face in the crowd who was a game changer.

"King of Hearts!" Cordelia squealed with excitement, letting go of Doyle's arm so she could jump up and down, clapping her hands together. Fred, too, was over-the-moon, beaming uncontrollably at the man across the room from her, who had finally lifted his head. He was smiling, too. Even Angel had broken out into a shit-eating grin.

Doyle tried to contain his own smirk as he gave an understated nod to the man who'd saved all their asses—again. Penny subtly tipped his fedora and then disappeared into the dense demon crowd before he could be spotted by anyone else.

"Did you guys see that?!" Angel asked proudly, holding out his arms as Jenoff scowled behind him.


"I'm sorry." Gunn said as they trudged along the sidewalk to where his truck and Angel's convertible were parked. "I didn't mean to get y'all involved in this. It was my problem—I was willing to take the heat."

"By losing your soul?!" Fred asked in a horrified tone. She was clenching his arm as if her life depended on it. She had been doing that since the moment she'd been free to throw her arms around him. "How could you not tell us, Charles? Saving souls is what we do! How could you not tell me?"

"Ah… y'know, Fred, I know it's none o' my business, but as someone who's gotten into my own fair share o' troubles… ahem." Doyle piped in helpfully, avoiding Cordelia's eyes as he spoke. "Just, go easy on the guy, yeah?"

"Oh, don't even get me started with Doyle's sordid past." Cordelia agreed as they continued to walk down the street in a cluster. "There was this whole thing back in the day where he almost got Angel killed in a demon tournament. In fact, funny story—when that Repo guy came to the hotel this afternoon, I thought he was after Doyle… okay, I guess that wasn't so much a funny story as a bad flashback."

Doyle's eyes opened a little wider, as he prayed Cordelia would stop reminiscing. "Like I said… go easy."

Fred smiled knowingly, moving slightly closer to Gunn. "I should make him grovel a little first, right Cordy?"

"The apprentice has become the master." Cordelia enthused with a bob of her head.

Gunn gave Cordelia a brief side-eye, before tossing a glance over his shoulder at Angel, who was slogging along behind the others. "So, you think we should go back and put Jenoff outta business?"

"Maybe when things die down a bit." Angel replied with little interest. His head was bowed low and his hands were shoved in his pockets. His joy over winning in the casino had been soured when he'd discovered the "help" he'd received. Since then, he'd been pouting like a little boy.

Then again, they'd all be unhappy—and possibly dead—if Jenoff had seen what card Angel had actually flipped over.

By now they'd reached the two parked vehicles and paused to disperse into separate groups. Fred and Gunn moved toward the truck and Angel opened the back door of his convertible to usher in the two Pyleans who'd been dutifully trailing behind them. Cordelia slid into the passenger seat.

"It was truly an honor to accompany you on your mission this evening." The Groosalugg announced, grinning from ear to ear. "I only wish I could've assisted during the battle of wits."

Doyle chuckled at that description, thinking wits had very little to do with what had transpired.

"Oh, dear brother, you are not the only undefeated champion amongst us." Nixaleen chastised her sibling, as she pushed him into the backseat of Angel's car. Before following him in, she turned to bat her eyelashes at the true hero of the night who'd quietly come up behind Doyle to see them off.

As he approached the group, Penny removed his fedora, revealing his set of horns. And if Doyle didn't know better, he'd swear the guy was blushing beneath his flourish of facial hair.

"Just gimme a minute." Doyle called to Angel. He and Penny moved a few steps away, pausing on the edge of the circular glow from the streetlight above. "I know words don't mean much in our world—but thanks again, man. Anyone see ya in there?"

"I'm not invisible, Doyle." Penny responded, still smiling over at the redhead who was now seated in the back of Angel's car. He plopped his fedora back on his head and grinned ever wider. "Odds are it'll get back to Jenoff I was there, and he ain't a stupid. But it was worth it."

"Is that right?" Doyle asked doubtfully, his eyes darting to and fro between the demon illusionist in front of him and the transplanted half-demon from another dimension in the backseat of the convertible. "All the same, you should probably lay low for a while, yeah? I'd hate to have ya lose your head on my account."

"I didn't risk my neck outta the goodness of my heart, pal." Penny reminded him, finally ungluing his eyes from the redhead. "You're just lucky you had an ace up your sleeve tonight—that, right there, is the woman of my dreams."

"Ya did it to impress the girl." Doyle said disbelievingly, eyeing Jenoff's casino sign, which glowed in the distance. "Shoulda known."

"So, what's the deal with her and Hercules over there?" Penny wondered. "Is it serious? Think I got a shot?"


Leaning against the window frame, Cordelia watched as the two figures below moved in and out of the shadows. They had been outside in the truck for a long while, undoubtedly hashing out the events that had nearly cost them their relationship and Gunn his soul. Now they had entered the front courtyard holding hands, and paused by the fountain for an impassioned kiss.

Cordelia found herself smiling, glad to see that they'd been able to work things out. It was a much-needed reminder that love could conquer all. Again and again.

She watched as they started to part from their romantic interlude, only to be swept back in, continuing to kiss each other senseless under the moonlit sky. Cordelia figured this was an appropriate point to walk away. Voyeurism had never been her thing.

A pair of arms took her by surprise, sliding into position around her waist. It felt natural, as if they belonged there. The feel of a warm body pressed against her back, the distinctive scent of her lover, it soothed her and she let herself relax into him, holding onto his arms with her own. Doyle planted a soft kiss just below her right ear, and then rested his chin on her shoulder, joining her in taking in the view below.

"Hmm, looks like Fred took my advice." He commented, the smile evident in his voice. "If it's any consolation—I'm sure he'll be making it up to her for a long time."

"As he should." Cordelia agreed, watching as Fred and Gunn officially came up for air. They smiled madly at each other and then meandered out of sight. "I get it now."

"Get what?" Doyle wondered, removing one arm from her body so he could move beside her, occupying the other half of the space in front of the window. His left arm remained in its previous position, keeping her close.

She lifted her eyes to meet his, and gave him an appreciative smile. "Why you didn't want me to meddle… I could've screwed that up, huh?"

"Maybe." He allowed, and then shrugged his shoulders in further consideration. "Or maybe ya couldn't have stopped it even if ya wanted to. Some things are just… meant to be."

Cordelia rolled her eyes, but the smile didn't leave her lips. "If you really believed that then you wouldn't have bothered warning me off. Unless you were just trying to spare W—" She had been about to say Wesley's name, but she bit her tongue before she could finish the word. The less she mentioned him the better. The less it hurt that he was no longer around. "Um… other people's feelings?"

Doyle mulled that over for a brief moment. "On some level, yeah." He supposed. "But, really, I just didn't think ya should be nosing around in other folks' love lives, that's all." He punctuated his sentence with a wink. "It's in poor taste."

Her gaze slanted in his direction, noting the humor in his eyes and the dimple on his cheek. She instinctively nuzzled closer to his side. "Fine, you win." She conceded, letting her voice soften. "I'd rather focus on our love life anyway."

Doyle didn't reply right away; he simply held her close. Eventually—and slowly—he once again wrapped both arms around her, this time, keeping them face-to-face. "I'd like that, too." He said sincerely, a trace of uncertainty glimmering in his eyes. "So, that whole bit earlier about things changing or not changing…? I mean, we're okay—you and me?"

Instead of answering with words, she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly on the lips, smiling as she did so.

"Seems like a yes." He remarked, wearing a grin of his own. "But, maybe you should elaborate."

He leaned in again, and captured her mouth for a second time, this time raising the room temperature substantially. Her fingers threaded through his hair and he walked her back a few steps until she gently bumped up against the wall behind her. Only then, did he allow her to come up for air—relieved to see the dreamy look in her eyes. It had, after all, been what he was going for. He just hadn't been sure he could get there under the circumstances.

"Definitely a yes." He whispered contentedly.

"Seeing Fred and Gunn down there, absorbed in their happy little bubble… it reminded me of us. How we used to be, anyway." She admitted, drawing her index finger downward from his collarbone to his belly button. "I don't know when our happy-bubble popped, but I think I know how to get it back."

"Yeah?" He wondered, gently resting his forehead against hers. "I'll do whatever it takes, Princess. Y'know that."

"Well, it's a very involved plan, with many different phases." She teased, tilting her head down the hallway, signaling it was time for them to move on to somewhere more private. "I hope you're up to the task."

"How expensive are these phases o' yours?" He bantered back at her, as they ambled along to room 505, their home away from home.

"You can't put a price on happiness, Doyle." She admonished him, batting her eyelashes in faux-innocence.

"That expensive, huh?" He laughed. "Better talk to Angel 'bout some overtime."

"Oh, please, Angel doesn't believe in overtime." She deflected. "Besides, you can afford phase one of my glorious plan. It involves us being late for work tomorrow… and the day after… and the day after that."

Doyle's brows raised in appreciation. "Gotta say, darlin', I'm liking the sound o' this plan so far."