Confession

He wasn't expecting Cordelia to be waiting for him when he limped back into the office, after he had finally regained consciousness and made his way back to work.

The mohra demon was dead, the day was won - but Doyle was sore, and his head was throbbing.

But Cordelia still being in the office drove his various aches and pains out of his mind almost immediately. He was sure she would have gone home by now - and wasn't sure she would be back in tomorrow, what with Angel being human and the future of the agency being up in the air and all. To get to see her - even if this would turn out to be for the last time - was a welcome surprise.

'How goes the closing down sale?' he asked her, he leaned against the door frame so his weary bones didn't have to support him alone.

She whirled around, on hearing his voice, 'You're back.'

'Yeah - in one piece and everythin'.'

'I thought you were dead.'

'I'm sorry?'

'I was worried.'

'Oh…' he wasn't sure what to say to that, but he felt a satisfied smile creep across his face - and a sudden rush of heat to his cheeks.

But Cordy wasn't paying attention any more, she was back to sticking post it notes on the furniture. 'So are you injured?' she asked him, her voice was casual - overly casual, it sounded to his ears.

'Just some scrapes - bruises. I got knocked out, got a big lump on my noggin.'

She tutted and shook her head, 'well, here, let me see.' Abandoning the post its she took hold of his hand and dragged him across to the couch. They sat down and she began to examine him. 'Follow my finger,' she told him, waving it slowly back and forth in front of his eyes.

He dutifully did as he was told - and she tutted again. 'Well, your eyes are focusing - so hopefully not too much brain damage. You know, to go on top of the visions and alcohol that are already killing your brain cells. Fortunately you do so little around here, that we won't actually notice if your brain turns to mush and you start to vegetate. We'll just have to invest in a bib to catch the drool.'

'I like to think I play my part,' he said, he was still aware of that satisfied smile stretching across his face, so much his cheeks were starting to ache. Even her teasing wasn't putting a dint in it - if anything - it was making it worse.

'Uhuh - and while you're "playing with your part", the rest of us are getting all the work done.' She looked up from examining the scrapes on his hand then, and he saw how soft her eyes were. They were completely at odds with her voice. 'Why didn't you take Buffy with you in the first place?' she asked, 'it's her job to die fighting monsters, not yours.'

'Nothin' to do with me,' he shrugged - he was more than usually aware of his heart beating in his chest. Cordelia was sitting so close - and he was struggling to hide how pleased her concern was making him, trying to act like it was no big deal - and no doubt fooling no one. Least of all Cordy. 'I told him to take her, he didn't want to wake her up.'

'But why would you listen to him?' She dropped his hand in order to throw her own up in the air in frustration. Doyle's hand immediately felt cold and empty, and he moved it on to his lap - flexing his fingers to try and shake off the feeling.

Cordelia was still ranting. 'He's an idiot! An even bigger idiot than you. He's human now - he can't fight things any more, he's as useless as the rest of us. You should have insisted he take the superchick - it's what she's for. She has - like - no other reason to live than to kill things. But you - you have lots of reasons to live, and you might have been killed and then where would I be? It's bad enough Angel turns human and I lose my job without losing you as well…'

She stopped talking and blushed furiously, her eyes widening in alarm as she realised what she had said. 'I mean…' But she didn't seem to have an end to that sentence, maybe she didn't know what she had meant. Or maybe she had meant exactly what she'd said.

Doyle lowered his eyes so he was staring at his hands in his lap. He didn't know what to say to that - but his heart was now beating painfully fast and the most shining, golden feeling of hope was swelling up inside of him like a bubble, which he was afraid to burst. And yet the longer he stayed quiet - and the more furiously Cordelia blushed - the bigger that bubble became, until it felt his chest could not contain it and it must surely explode outwards.

'Um … I mean…' he twisted his hands together. 'I didn't, y'know ... die, so… I mean, I'm sorry I worried y' but … I'm still here … so…'

'Just - forget it.' She got to her feet, she seemed angry though he wasn't sure if she was furious at herself or at him. 'I'm going home.'

'Wait,' he stood up as well, 'it's … dark out. I could - I could … walk you?'

They stared at each other - and her eyes were still hard and angry. Doyle held his breath … and then she nodded, a quick, curt nod. As mad as she was at herself, she was still willing to accept his overture … that had to mean something, right?

She grabbed her jacket and he followed her out of the door, pausing only to lock it, before they walked out into the night.

...

It was awkward at first - the walk home. Usually things were never awkward between them, they were always teasing and joking and flirting - just having fun, enjoying each other's company. But that was when their real feelings were still completely underneath the surface, hidden and unspoken.

Now Cordelia had said something, and seemed to wish she could retract it - and Doyle was desperate for her not to take it back, wanted to pursue this line of thought … but didn't want to push too hard, go too far and scare her off.

So he didn't know what to say, and it seemed like she didn't know what to say either - and so it just loomed large between them, making things awkward.

'Um - so … do y' think we'll make much money from the goin' outta business sale?' he asked, finally - unable to think of anything else to say.

'Well… ' her voice was very careful, like - after her previous outburst - she was being doubly guarded with her words, in case something else she didn't mean to say out loud escaped her. 'Some of Angel's weapons are antique - and I guess he doesn't need them any more, we might make a penny or two on those.'

'Good - uh - great … and uh … what now? Back to actin'?'

'I never stopped acting.'

'Right - no. But I guess you'll have more time for auditions now - that's a good thing, right?'

But she didn't answer, 'what about you?' she asked, her words came out blunt, 'what will you do - what did you do … before?'

He sighed and put his hands in his pockets. 'Nothin' much. Nothin' good. I don't wanna go back to that. But it turns out that - Angel might be free - but I'm not. As long as I got these visions, I guess I can't turn my back on helpin' people. I guess I'll still have to try.'

'You think you might need a secretary?'

He smiled, 'I guess I could maybe find use for one - hey, send me your resume and I'll be sure to consider y' for the post.'

She swatted him with the back of her hand, 'watch it, buster!' They both began to laugh - and the awkwardness dissipated a little, though the moment of levity only lasted a short time - and they went back to quiet and heavy contemplation.

'Even with your visions, and my astute business acumen … we can't really make it work without the muscle to back it up, can we?' Cordelia asked, after a while. 'I mean, you can see the people in danger, and I can send the bill - but if we don't manage to save them…'

'Well - I mean, The Powers can't keep sendin' me visions o' people I can't help. If they want me to be a seer that's any use, they're gonna have to find a solution - find me a new champion, I guess.'

'Someone to do Angel's job for him?'

'I guess…'

She sighed again. 'It won't be the same without Angel.' She slipped her arm through his.

He looked down at where they were connected. 'No … I guess it won't be.'

'Doyle - why do you get the visions? How come they send them to you?'

He swallowed, feeling a sudden surge of hot panic inside of him, 'um - well, like I told you before, they're my gift.'

'Right - a really crappy gift. But what made the PTB decide to give that crappy gift to you in particular? There's six million people in the city, six billion people in the world. How come you got tapped for the gig?'

'Why is Buffy the slayer?' he asked, feeling awkward again; he could feel the back of his neck burning. 'It's just my destiny, I guess.'

'Well I still don't think it makes sense.'

'Maybe it's not supposed to.'

But she blew a raspberry at that idea, 'well that's a load of cryptic bull.'

He chuckled. 'Yeah - well, that's what my visions feel like most of the time. You know - besides the mind numbing, head cracking agony of it all.' Then he noticed that she was watching him, she was looking searchingly at his profile, her eyes narrowed. 'What?'

'Are you telling the truth?' she asked.

He tried to laugh again - though it came out weakly. 'What?'

'The truth. Are you telling me the truth? Do you really not know why you're a seer - or are you hiding something from me?'

'I - uh - ' He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to lie. But he wasn't ready for this, this wasn't how he had planned it, he needed more time - he needed her in a better mood, and some flashcards with bullet points to help him say it properly, and maybe a bit of dutch courage. Not to be taken by surprise while walking home, battle bruised and contemplating a return to the employment line.

But she was still staring at him, her eyebrows were raised, her eyes were getting hard again and every second he didn't answer only seemed to confirm to her that she was right. 'You are hiding something!' Her tone was accusatory. 'I don't believe this!' Her arm dropped from his and she picked up her pace, storming ahead of him.

'Cordelia - please - wait!' He jogged after her and tried to grab hold of her arm, but she shook him off.

'You tell me the truth or you go on home, Doyle, and don't bother calling in the morning - I won't answer.' She didn't slow down.

'Cordy!'

'I hate people lying to me, and I hate people keeping secrets from me and you - buddy - seem to be doing both.' She reached the entrance to her apartment complex and followed the path round to her own home. Doyle still trailed haplessly behind her.

She paused at her front door and turned to look at him. 'Well,' she glared at him, 'which is it gonna be?' There was a definite challenge in her eyes. But at least she was giving him this final chance, she could have just gone straight inside and slammed the door in his face.

Doyle sighed - and then nodded. He put his hands in his pockets and scuffled his feet, worrying about how to say this - and how she would react. She was already mad at him… 'OK, you're right,' he admitted. 'There is some stuff that I mighta … failed to mention … but it wasn't 'cause I wanted to lie to you,' he added hurriedly, seeing the light of fury glimmer in her eyes. 'It's just … it's hard OK? And it's not anythin' I'm proud of. It's the opposite in fact - dead opposite. About the most dead opposite of proud as y' can possibly get…'

'Doyle.'

'Right,' he got back on track. Sighing again, he looked down at his feet, screwed up his courage - and then looked back up at her. 'I never knew my dad,' he told her, 'that's … I guess that's the start of it. I never met him; my mam never told me anythin' about him and, honestly, I never even thought that much about him - never wondered who he was or thought to ask questions.' He chuckled darkly, 'maybe I should have done.'

'Is this going somewhere?' She still sounded impatient, he hadn't managed to enthrall her enough with the weaving of his words and the magic of his story to make her forget her anger.

'Yeah - it is. So - I never knew my dad. I grew up, moved to the States … married, y'know, Harri…' he mumbled his ex wife's name - thinking this was probably the worst time he could bring her up. But - like his dad - this story didn't happen without Harri. She was part of it. And if he was going to tell Cordy the truth, he couldn't miss her out.

But Cordelia didn't say anything, didn't react to the sound of Harri's name - so he carried on. 'I worked as a teacher,' he told her. 'Third grade - if you can believe it. Everything was normal - I led a completely normal life. I didn't know the first thing about monsters or demons or vampires or what not. If I ever thought about them, I thought they were make believe - children's stories.'

'So what changed?'

He swallowed hard. This was the moment of truth. 'I did,' he said, looking down at his feet again. 'On my twenty first birthday, I woke up - and … everythin' was normal, Harri was gonna make pancakes and then I sneezed and well…'

Not knowing how to say it, he figured it would be easier to just show her. Hesitating for only a moment, knowing she was watching him expectantly, he morphed into his spikes - feeling them push through his skin and knowing as soon it was done that it was too late to take it back. 'This happened.'

He just caught a glimpse of the startled look on Cordy's face, before he shook off his demon features and - human looking once more - went back to staring at his feet. 'It turns out that the dad I never met wasn't human. He was a demon - of the green, spiky variety. And I'm half demon, and when I turned 21 my genes ... came out.'

'Is that why Harri left you?' Her voice had a tremble to it, and he could only assume she was barely containing her anger… or her disgust.

He didn't dare look up again, but he shook his head. 'No - I thought it was; for years - I assumed … well, wouldn't you? But it was more complicated than that. I guess life always is.'

'What do you mean?'

'I was - angry, when I changed. All the time. I guess you'd be surprised to know I wasn't much of a drinker before? This was when I started hittin' the bottle. Harri left because I was makin' her miserable. I was makin' her miserable because I was miserable. And I stayed miserable - for years. I drank and smoked and … well, did some really stupid stuff. Like, criminal stuff. I just figured that was what demons did, and I fell into it wholeheartedly…'

He wrinkled his brow, as he remembered what came next - the worst of all he had ever done. 'And then one day a demon came to me. He was the same species as my dad … as me … he was asking for help. And I wouldn't help him. He was killed, his whole family too - and that … that was when I started gettin' the visions. That's why I was chosen… they're my punishment. And…' he took a deep breath and finally dared to look up, 'I guess The Powers don't think I've been punished enough, or fully atoned, or whatever - 'cause even though Angel is released from his fealty, I'm not. So I gotta keep on atoning.'

Cordelia was just staring at him, her mouth was ever so slightly open.

He sighed again, and shook his head. 'I shouldda told you all this earlier … I was just afraid. I'm sorry. I'll - I'll understand if y' don't wanna be a part of helping me with the hopeless anymore... '

Cordelia still didn't say anything.

Doyle shuffled his feet, 'well - I guess, I guess I'll see you around…' and he walked off into the night, leaving her alone in the doorway. She didn't call out after him - not that he had expected her to, but still … he had hoped.

But it had gone the way he had always thought it would. And now that shining, golden bubble was well and truly burst.