A Second Chance

Pairings: Cordelia and Doyle

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, not Cordy, not Doyle and not Angel. They belong to Joss Whedon (*pointing accusingly* the damn poof killed Doyle!!) and his cronies. This fiction is written on entertainment purposes only. (So please none of those legal craps, ok? `Sides, I don't own a single cent. Neither do I get any by twisting plots and writing them down!)

Spoilers: Major spoilers for episodes `Hero' and `Parting Gifts'(??).

Notes: This is my first fic, well, actually the first fic I ever finished! I've got some great stories stashed away on my hard drive, fragmentary. Time envies me in every way.

//....// -------- are thoughts.

Feedback: Wanted! Let them scorch if you must or be generous and let them be soothing. This would be my first fic, so bring it on~!

Distribution: I'm not really sure on how this one works...ask and thou shall receive...(??)

A Second Chance

It was starting to rain hard outside. It was one of those stormy Wednesday nights. Giant droplets of water tapped rhythmically on the windows of the small office. Inside, two souls sat and chatted together and drank hot cocoa and coffee, off the stormy night's chill.

A feminine figure leaned against the desk closest to the window, presumably hers, steadily, she sipped her hot cocoa. She sat there wordlessly and peeked outside to check on the storm. A sudden flash of lightning flared past her followed by a loud boom. She turned away from the window to face her companion at the same time, winced at the sound.

"Cordy, are ya okay? Ya look kinda pale," came a male voice with a distinctive Irish brogue to his speech.

"Uhh...yeah. I'm fine. It's just that it's late and I want to go home. The storm doesn't look like it's going to calm down anytime soon. If it doesn't stop soon, I'm going to miss my favorite show," Cordelia Chase, walked towards the male and took a seat right beside him even as the rain pelted hard on the window. The wind outside raged and howled as if God was releasing His wrath upon mankind.

"Ya want me to call a cab for ya, Princess?" Alan Francis Doyle smiled charmingly as he offered to help the maiden in distress.

She smiled back at the handsome Irishman and drank her cocoa, low fat, mind you, and looked at Doyle's azure eyes. But it was weird to her that she never noticed how cute and boyish he was at times or how his face would harden handsomely when he's in his `serious mode'. After all, he has `certain depths'. //No matter how adorable or cute he is, I still think he has the worst sense of fashion. Maybe if the Fashion Police really existed, he'd be arrested time and time again.// He must've noticed her staring because he started to fidget around.

"Thanks but no thanks, Doyle. You know how it is, here in LA. One moment you're getting a cab, the next, you're scattered all over in the dumps in pieces," she said while she sustained to observe him.

"I uhh... I guess you're right, `Delia." He tore his eyes away from her and started to turn his attention elsewhere.

"Hmmm... you're using that name again. `Delia. `Delia. I've heard people calling me that before but coming from you, it sounds different. Sounds like a chant." Saying that, she continued her observation on him with growing interest.

He smiled earnestly, "I just think it suits you. I mean, to most people the name may not suit you but to me, I think it matches you completely, your personality, the very air around you..." he cut himself short when he noticed that he had started to ramble around like a besotted idiot. //I wonder why she's starin' at me like that. Geez, if this keeps up...Damn, she's so beautiful. Her soft chestnut hair just framin' her pretty lil' face. I could've sworn there was a look of genuine interest and care in her cocoa eyes. And the way she's starin' at me just makes me want to smother that look off her pretty little face and toss her on the table and...//

"Hey Doyle!" a male's voice, obviously their employer, cut off his trail of thoughts. " It's getting late. You might want to get home. I want to get some early rest tonight and I can't do that while you guys are still here. Besides, office hour ended 3 hours ago."

"Yeah...sure, Angel. We've been meanin' to get outta here since like 3 hours ago, but Mother Nature decided against it. Anyway, the cabs are gone at this time of the hour. We shoulda left with Wes at 5, which woulda been about 2 hours before closing time, but we felt that we'd better wait till ye wake up."

"Doyle's right. While you were sleeping, we had to let time fly hoping at least the rain would ease up. It's not as if *we* could've gotten some sleep while you were at it... Besides I'll ruin my new shoes if I had to walk in the rain. Not to mention my hair and my make-up and even my dress and skirt!"

"Oh, just take my car. You're giving me a headache. I won't be using it tomorrow, after all. I mean, the car never really leaves the place during the day," mumbled the head of the company as he tried to ignore the pain that throbbed in his head.

"That'd be great man. I'll try not ta' scratch it. Have a good night."

" Just go already. The medicine's taking affect again. "

" Right. Byeee Aaangeeellll....,"was the last thing Angel heard as Cordelia's voice faded after being pulled down the hallway by Doyle.

"I'm getting too old for this..." //Heh. Right, too old. How ironic is that?// He shook his head as he walked towards the elevator.

Downstairs, the pair got into the car and rubber was burnt.

(Cordelia)

//I really don't think he should be driving. I mean in his condition and all. He hasn't recovered fully yet. Angel should know better than give *him* the car keys. Since he won't let *me* drive I just sat there and pouted. He laughed at that and promised me that I can drive him around next time.//

She smiled back at him then turned her head to look at the street through her window. She could see cars and lights. //Lights!// She started to drift into her thoughts and a vision of a big, bright white light came into her brains, a memory of a past disaster.

//I still remember the vivid details. It was more than 4 months ago but I still remember everything that happened, from the part when Doyle arrived late with Rieff, to the part when I slapped him, till the moment he `almost' finally asked me out. But Fate felt a bit cruel at that moment and decided to bring me even more agony.

//Good Lord, he nearly died for all of us. He saved the half-demons, Angel, and me.

//I felt like I died at that moment. I was too shocked to warn Angel about it when the realization hit me. I wanted to scream so badly but my throat was dry and I couldn't get even a breath out. And in another split second, Angel was already flying away and sprawled on the hard floor of S.S Quintessa. He turned to me and grabbed me with desperation. His soft blue green eyes gazed into mine, everything I needed to know shown in them. He lifted my face and kissed me with so much passion and love yet he was so gentle and loving. He held on as if his life depended on it, as if he was about to die. I wanted to hold onto him and not let go. I couldn't think. Tears had started to pour out uncontrollably. Then I felt some soft tingling feeling pass through me.

//He pulled away. Love and regret was written in his gentle eyes as he spoke to me, " To bad we'll never know if ..." then he morphed into his demon half, "...if this is a face you could learn to love." And with that, he turned away from me and jumped towards the beacon. I was paralyzed and so was Angel.

//He leapt up onto the beacon and tried to unplug it as it started to max up. He took one last look at me and turn back at getting the plug off. The rays had started to form and I can see it burning his hands and his whole body stated to burn as well.

//He looked as if he was about to disintegrate but the thing shut down and he plunged toward the wooden crates decked on the docks. Angel released me from his iron grasp and I ran towards Doyle right behind him. Doyle was on the floor, breathing. Angel went to tend to the `problems' in hand.

// I remember I let out a sigh of relief and hugged him but I nearly screamed when I finally realized that the `icky' liquid on my hands were blood. Doyle's blood. A piece of wood had pierced his chest. He took hard, labored breaths but he smiled softly at me. I wanted to call for Angel, but he was busy fighting. I took off my favorite blue vest and tried to stop the bleeding. Oh well, the things you do in desperation. I tried to carry him out, sticks and all. And Angel joined me later on.

//We managed to lessen the bleeding and rushed him to the hospital just in time. I cried the whole time. When the doctor assured us he would survive, I promised myself to slap him twice as hard as I did before, as soon as he's well enough.

//He refused to stay long in the hospital and insisted on leaving with or without our help, so he was taken to my apartment since Angel's would be a definite possible target for demons and I have Dennis to help me in case of needs.

//I'm beginning to think it's a good thing Wesley came. Though he can be a real wuss at times. But he's been helpful with the research since Doyle's not well and everything. It would help Doyle, since the two have been communicating really well, through diatribes (since Doyle's bedridden and Wesley's a coward. Otherwise, they'd be punching over the slightest things). I still have those head splitting skull-cracking headache, nonetheless. I thank the PTB for not letting him suffer them, but I don't plan to keep them//

She smiled about that thought and peered at Doyle who was driving quietly. He kept eyes on the road. He tried to be cautious because of the `accident prone' heavy rain. He looked as if he made no intention to start a conversation so she looked out of the window and let herself drown in her thoughts once again.

//He was really weak back then. I stayed with him for 2 weeks before he could get around with the help of his demon healing capability *much to his dislike*.// She chuckled at the memory of how his face twisted into shock and frown when she had forced him to morph.

She turned to look at him again with a smile on her face. She thought he wouldn't notice, but this time he was alternating between looking at her and the road. She just smiled and patted his arm to reassure him.

//The beacon sure did a lot of damage to his body, not to mention getting his ribs conked out again. It was entirely that stupid Barney's fault. And Angel's too, for helping him in the first place.

//And here we are, living our lives like we usually did. Well, not entirely...he lives with me for now. He said he found a good place to stay but honestly, I don't think I want him to go. We hadn't talked about it since *then* and I never really got to ask him about what he said on the ship nor answer his question. I'm afraid of what will happen afterwards.

//The incident really shook me to the core. And I've been just about as broodsome as Angel is, but I know we have a destiny to fulfill. Carpe Diem...Ces't La Vie~.//

(Doyle)

She pouted when he refuse to let her drive. He laughed at her little reaction and she smiled at him then she turned around and looked outside her window. He couldn't read her response and he didn't know what to say so he kept his mouth shut and focused on the road.

//She's been really uncharacteristically quiet these past months. I'm thinking it has something to do with the last unpleasant incident. I know she's been meaning to give me a piece of her mind or maybe a hard slap or a punch in the guts fer nearly getting' meself killed. But she held back every time. I'm starting to miss the old Cordelia Chase. The bewitching ill fated, sharp tongued, self-declared bitch from Sunnydale.

//She's more gloomy and silent nowadays. Outside, she puts on this cheerful mask to hide the others from the true facts. Wesley thought she got over it, Angel thought that something was off beam, but none of them really knows what Dennis and I know. She rarely complains, which is supposed to be a good thing, but I think it's just wrong. It's not her nature to do this. She's cloudy most of the time, but she was and still is my sunshine.

//I've had to stay at home while she and Angel and that `other' guy got to work. Then later, around 6-something, she'll leave the office and come home to me. She usually grumbled about my being there to see the worse of her. Grumpy, tired, and all messed up she said. Heck, even if she were dumped in mud, she'd still look like a goddess to me. He smiled to himself when he remembered the first time he had waited for her to come home from work. She shrieked in shock and ran straight to her room.

//You see she has this routine ever since I started living with her. I found out about this routine from the time when I finally realize my surrounding which is when my brain could function normally and I could stay awake long enough. At the ungodly hour of three in the morning, she'll come into the guestroom, which is where I'm sleeping, to make sure I'm not suffering from my nightmares. But I do, almost everyday, until this present day. But she'll hold me close and croon soft words to me until the worst subsides each time. Sometimes she keeps me company and fall asleep with me in her arms. Ah, those were the times I don't mind getting my arse whooped! Then at seven thirty she makes me breakfast, with the help of Dennis, which I eat half an hour later. I'll say that she's not the best cook available, but it's the thought that counts, right? Right!

//Great, now I'm talking to myself. Anyway, she'll sit and eat breakfast with me on me bed. Sometimes, she'll sleep at the foot of the bed while I eat. She'll leave for work at nine and comes home at noon for lunch with Dennis and me, if she can. Then it's back to work for her until 6, give or take half an hour. She'll get cleaned up and comfy then she eats the dinner Dennis and I prepared. Before I was able to do things, she had to buy dinner. Then later, instead of going out and maintaining her previously existent social life, she'd rather sit at home with me while I do the research for Angel from home. She'd either help or just sit there watching TV while I do it alone. We'd sit there until 12, then she helps me to bed and return to her own room.

//I promised her that we'd go shopping together one of these days so that her previously existent social life can re-exist. But she had only smiled and wave her hands in dismissal. Heck, I wouldn't even mind if she had to date someone else, well maybe I would mind, but anything to help her feel better and recover. She has also cast a barrier spell around the house and picked up a few powerful magick for our protection.

//I'm sure she took it hard. So did I. But there's Angel and that Brit chap, Wesley, who just loves to pick a fight with me, to help around. In me past state I couldn'ta offer much help. But now I go to the office occasionally to help out but each time I do, Angel will give me a long lecture about my health. And damn that empath demon! He broke my just healin' ribs again. Lied to me at that and trashed me damned place, not that there was much of it to trash in the first place. But now at least I have a place in the world and Cordelia has welcomed me into her home. So, the room I'm in is no longer the guestroom but mine. Least now I'm more of a use to them.//

"So, ya wanna head straight for your place, Princess? or do you need anything before we go home?" he asked her as he glanced at her figure which was staring intently out of the window.

"I'm hungry. Maybe we can stop at one of the nice cafés and see what they have for supper. For breakfast, I only had a muffin and some toasts. I mean we practically skipped lunch and we `drank' dinner. I think my tummy deserves a little food," she said cheering up.

//I think we've all been spending too much time with Angel that his `broodsomeness' is starting to rub off on the both of us. Things have been like this ever since the Scourge incident. Everyone was still moody and frustrated.I mean, yeah, we're always in danger but we nearly lost each other at that time. I think after that incident we finally realized that life was precious. She took it really hard when I fell. She had lost so many and so much that if any of us went she probably couldn't handle it. I did'nae think that I'd survive meself, believe me, I know how it feels to lose all that matters in your life. It was an uphill battle.//

//But she'd been there for me for all the time I was bedridden. She nursed me back to health and took me under her wings. Heh, the lass even made me change into my `other' form in order fer me to recover faster. I usually refused but she kept fussing that she wouldn't want to care for me all her life and that I'll be causing her more problem if I recover at normal rate. And now she says I'm not well enough to stay on me own. And now I live with her.The girl loves to speak in codes. But it's like a dream come true, no? Living with a beautiful woman who would care for you and fuss about you and maybe, just maybe love you in return? No, not those platonic love. Those real `nothing else matters' kind of love.//

//I never really did mention about the `Dinner' and about my `before death' confessional of my devotion and love towards her as well as my demon heritage. I was afraid of the consequences, I guess. I assume she'll just presume I did that because I was about to die. She'll talk when she's ready. All in good time. And I have all the time in the world...I hope.// He descended back to Earth once again as her words registered into his preoccupied head.

"Food, eh? I know a little nice warm café somewhere. Irish even," he gazed at her, smiling warmly.

"Café? Hmm...Doyle in a café. I used to imagine you only in pubs and nightclubs, but now that you mentioned it I think that maybe you'd look as normal as anyone would even in a café," Cordelia mused as she stole a glance at him.

"Princess, you're talking in codes again." //I have never really taken her scathing words to heart. I know she never really meant them. She's really nice, kind and sweet under all that sharp witted, tactless remarks.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but did she just say she used to *imagine* me in pubs...? Imagine of me? Lowly unworthy me?//

He got meself together again, he felt damn good that she thinks of him from time to time.// Maybe I should finish asking her out tonight//. He took in a deep breath and spoke up, "I'll take that as a compliment, `Delia."

He wasn't sure what she saw but it must've been something on his face or about him because suddenly her eyes softened and she took an unsteady breath and turned towards him.

"Well, it was a compliment, Doyle. I...I'm just not that good with words. It's like everytime...everytime I mean to say something, it always comes out wrong. Even sometimes when I try to be nice or sophisticated. It ALWAYS come out wrong. You know like those sad soaps on TV..." She paused for a long space in between. He had lost her there.
//Come, on Cordy, let it out. Let me in your heart. Don't bail out on me now. I kept hoping and hoping. But she wasn't ready yet, I suppose and I promised myself not to force her to do something she doesn't want to//. He suddenly felt the urge to hold her close and make all her worries dissapeare.

Silent tension hung between them as he kept his eyes on the road. It was all quiet besides the hum of the engine, the tapping of heavy rain on the glass, the buzzing of passing cars and our steady breathing. The rain didn't lessen, not in the least bit. He was getting pretty damned hungry and Cordelia's stomach started to growl. He looked at her with what one would take as amusement, adoration, simpathy, humour and concern all in one. She lauged and looked slightly embarrassed. But she laughed anyway, despite her discomfited state.

The heaviness between them lifted and they start to tell entertaining old tales to each other. They talked over the funny things that happened. Things will turn out right. //I can feel it.Please, Lord, let me make ammends and be happy for once//. He silently prayed, importuned to who ever that would listen to his prayers.