Title:Music for the Soul
Author: Katherine Eve
Characters: Angel, Doyle, Cordy, and a few creations of my own.
Rating: PG
Summary: The beginning mission back to Sunnydale for Angel and Doyle.
Genre: Lots of mystery and some action, not a whole lotta sex (sorry).
Note: My first story! I hope everyone enjoys it.!!
Chapter I
"So, what did you think?" Doyle asked as he stretched his arms up over his head after being cramped up in the theatre for two hours.
"It wasn't bad," Angel flatly replied as they walked out the doors to the empty streets.
"Wasn't bad? Well, you at least gotta admit it was better than sitting in the dark reading a book back at the office. Angel, you need to take advantage of the technology now days," Doyle lectured in his thick Irish brogue.
"What do you want me to say? I just don't find movies that exciting."
Doyle sighed and smiled a bit. "That's right. You like the cold, hard, reality of the world. Why would you ever want to escape that?" His voice was as sarcastic as usual. "I just don't get it. You've been around for two and a half centuries. Don't you ever get bored with the real world from time to time?"
"It's not about being bored."
"Aah. I know. It's about not letting yourself have any fun. Look. You did some terrible things in your past, but you're making up for them now. There's no reason why you can't treat yourself to a movie or a sports event or something. There's no reason to keep torturing yourself."
Doyle knew he should have changed the subject awhile ago, but he had kept talking anyway. He knew it hurt Angel when he brought up the past. But it was an issue that needed to be addressed.
They turned the corner and walked a few blocks in silence. Angel's face was as emotionless as usual, but Doyle knew the vampire was deep in thought. Doyle understood Angel's logic. He just didn't agree with Angel's logic. It wasn't Angel who had terrorized and slaughtered hundreds of innocent people. It was not the same guy who was walking next to Doyle who had been the monster.
Doyle preferred to think of it as split personalities. *Angel* was his brooding friend who had an overwhelming urge to help and give hope to those who had none. *Angelus* was the soulless beast that had inhabited Angel's lifeless body for a time and used it for evil purposes. They weren't the same. The only thing the two had in common was the identical carcass Doyle now found himself talking to.
"I know you don't want to talk about it anymore," Doyle continued as they entered the building, "but there are things that need to be said." He paused as he organized his thoughts. "You're a good guy, Angel." He hoped his friend would turn and look him in the eye, but Angel's gaze stayed frozen forward as they stood just inside the doorway. "You're trying to redeem the mistakes that *you* didn't make. You know that as well as I do. It was your body. That's all. Not your soul. You were an instrument of evil."
Angel finally turned and looked Doyle in the eye. "Even if that were true, does that mean I should stop doing what I'm doing? Why are you here, Doyle? Why are you doing good? You're not after redemption. It's not a question of trying to make-up for past mistakes. If that were the only reason people were trying to do good in this world, it would be a lot worse than it is now."
"Oh, I've made my fair share of mistakes I'm trying to make-up for. But I'm not letting that keep me from having a good time. *Doing* good doesn't require giving up all the good things in life. You can still help people without making yourself miserable."
Angel shook his head. "I just don't feel like I deserve to have fun. The number of people I've helped doesn't compare to the number I've hurt."
"Don't think of it as something you deserve or don't deserve. Enjoying life isn't a privilege. It's a right."
"So, how was the movie?" Cordiella's voice was sunny and pleasant as always as the two demons walked into the office.
"It was good. Good plot, good dialogue. The acting was nothing compared to you, though," Doyle commented.
"Well, of course not. Speaking of which, I have another audition tomorrow. It's a great role about a severely distraught woman in New York being torn apart by two men. Well, that's what it said on the audition sheet."
"Oh, so it's another soup commercial." Only Doyle snickered at his own joke.
"I guess I could never expect an unemotional alcoholic like you to see the true art behind the acting business," Cordiella playfully snapped.
"Hey, I found that tampon commercial you did extremely touching," Doyle giggled as he pulled up a chair. "In fact..."
Angel, having been solely a spectator in his friends' insult-fest, cautiously moved toward Doyle who was now bent over in his chair violently gripping his head. "Doyle?" Angel's voice was concerned.
Abruptly, Doyle jumped up and sent the chair flying across the room. "Cordy, get a pencil and paper," Angel instructed. The Irishmen, his hand still plastered firmly to his eye, slammed into the back wall and fell sprawling to the ground.
Cordiella scampered to the desk and returned to Angel, now bending over Doyle, with a pencil and a pad of paper. A few seconds passed before Doyle relaxed his hand and let it fall to the floor. Blinking his eyes to clear his blurred vision, he glanced up to see the faces of his anxious companions staring intensely at him.
"What did you see?" Angel asked as he took the paper and pencil and handed it to Doyle. Doyle grabbed both and frantically began scribbling down words and images on the pad. He handed it back to Angel, rested his head on the back wall, and let out long sigh.
"A dance club. Surprise, surprise. Oh, and a girl. Have we ever helped someone who wasn't a girl? The-Powers-That-Be really narrow down the innocent we're supposed to help, don't they," Cordiella remarked.
"Cordiella..." Angel pointed at the last word Doyle had scribbled on the paper.
"Bronze?" she questioned.
Doyle blinked a few more times and lifted his head to look at his coworkers. "Yeah. A sign on the outside of a building. I'm guessing it's the name of the club."
Angel and Cordiella locked eyes of amazement across the sprawled-out body of Doyle.
"Did I miss something?" Doyle asked as he forced himself to stand. "What's going on, guys?"
"Looks like you're going to pay Sunnydale a visit," Cordiella shrugged.
***
"Look, I know you want to see your old neighborhood, but you are not coming along," Angel laid down the law as he stuffed a bag full of all-black clothes for the trip. "Besides. We need you here to take care of any business."
Cordiella sighed as she furiously followed her boss around his apartment. "In case you haven't noticed, that phone in the office rings about once every week and even then, it turns out to be a wrong number. And I know he needs some work on his people skills, but I think Doyle can handle any customers that come while we're gone."
"I hate to bust your bubble, princess, but I won't be around to impress you with my suave social skills." Angel swung around from his closet to see Doyle's figure standing in the doorway with a bag in one hand and a six pack in the other.
"No. Neither of you are coming with me," Angel stated impatiently.
"Why not? Hey. Who says you have to do all the work by yourself? Come on, it'll be fun. We can have a few beers, exchange life stories, and save the songbird in distress," Doyle pleaded.
Angel stepped away from his packing once more and stared at Doyle. "Songbird?"
"Oh. Didn't I mention that? Sorry. The flashes come so quickly its hard to write everything down. You'd think I'd be better with all the practice I get..."
"Doyle. What do you mean 'songbird'?" Angel asked again.
"Well, the girl at that club, the Bronze. She was on stage singing. I didn't hear anything, but she was in front of the microphone. She looked like she had a nice voice."
"Any other details you left out?" Angel inquired, taking a step closer to Doyle.
The half-breed paused a moment and tried to envision what he had seen the day before. "No. Just the girl, the Bronze, and the cross."
"What cross?" Angel asked impatiently.
"Oops. I swear, I'm normally more accurate than this," he nervously replied as Angel and Cordiella angrily stared at him. He could feel the beads of sweat dripping down the back of his neck and decided to continue. "It was a necklace. A bright silver one. Around someone's neck. Probably the girl's. That would be my guess."
"Well, that'll be helpful," Angel said and he grabbed his fully packed bag and a cooler sitting by the refrigerator. Doyle stared after him as Angel walked past him and headed up the stairs.
"Hey, wait a second there, Angel. Where do you think you're going without me?" Doyle hurried to the stairs to meet him. "Just how are you supposed to recognized this girl without my help. I'm the only one whose seen her. And what about the life stories? Now's your chance to hear mine. Hey, it was your idea in the first place. Remember?"
"Angel's should probably take up the entire trip there and back. Yours, I'm guessing, will last about as long as that six pack you're carrying, which is to say, not long," Cordy commented.
Doyle gave a slight smile and a laugh. "If you only knew," He turned his attention back to Angel after taking amusement in the confusion on the girl's face. "Come on, man. I've done everything except get down on my knees and beg."
The vampire groaned as he stared at Doyle's pathetic expression. Angel knew he had asked for it earlier in their friendship. He had been the one to bring up the subject of Doyle's life story. There was no getting out.
To Be Continued...
Author: Katherine Eve
Characters: Angel, Doyle, Cordy, and a few creations of my own.
Rating: PG
Summary: The beginning mission back to Sunnydale for Angel and Doyle.
Genre: Lots of mystery and some action, not a whole lotta sex (sorry).
Note: My first story! I hope everyone enjoys it.!!
Chapter I
"So, what did you think?" Doyle asked as he stretched his arms up over his head after being cramped up in the theatre for two hours.
"It wasn't bad," Angel flatly replied as they walked out the doors to the empty streets.
"Wasn't bad? Well, you at least gotta admit it was better than sitting in the dark reading a book back at the office. Angel, you need to take advantage of the technology now days," Doyle lectured in his thick Irish brogue.
"What do you want me to say? I just don't find movies that exciting."
Doyle sighed and smiled a bit. "That's right. You like the cold, hard, reality of the world. Why would you ever want to escape that?" His voice was as sarcastic as usual. "I just don't get it. You've been around for two and a half centuries. Don't you ever get bored with the real world from time to time?"
"It's not about being bored."
"Aah. I know. It's about not letting yourself have any fun. Look. You did some terrible things in your past, but you're making up for them now. There's no reason why you can't treat yourself to a movie or a sports event or something. There's no reason to keep torturing yourself."
Doyle knew he should have changed the subject awhile ago, but he had kept talking anyway. He knew it hurt Angel when he brought up the past. But it was an issue that needed to be addressed.
They turned the corner and walked a few blocks in silence. Angel's face was as emotionless as usual, but Doyle knew the vampire was deep in thought. Doyle understood Angel's logic. He just didn't agree with Angel's logic. It wasn't Angel who had terrorized and slaughtered hundreds of innocent people. It was not the same guy who was walking next to Doyle who had been the monster.
Doyle preferred to think of it as split personalities. *Angel* was his brooding friend who had an overwhelming urge to help and give hope to those who had none. *Angelus* was the soulless beast that had inhabited Angel's lifeless body for a time and used it for evil purposes. They weren't the same. The only thing the two had in common was the identical carcass Doyle now found himself talking to.
"I know you don't want to talk about it anymore," Doyle continued as they entered the building, "but there are things that need to be said." He paused as he organized his thoughts. "You're a good guy, Angel." He hoped his friend would turn and look him in the eye, but Angel's gaze stayed frozen forward as they stood just inside the doorway. "You're trying to redeem the mistakes that *you* didn't make. You know that as well as I do. It was your body. That's all. Not your soul. You were an instrument of evil."
Angel finally turned and looked Doyle in the eye. "Even if that were true, does that mean I should stop doing what I'm doing? Why are you here, Doyle? Why are you doing good? You're not after redemption. It's not a question of trying to make-up for past mistakes. If that were the only reason people were trying to do good in this world, it would be a lot worse than it is now."
"Oh, I've made my fair share of mistakes I'm trying to make-up for. But I'm not letting that keep me from having a good time. *Doing* good doesn't require giving up all the good things in life. You can still help people without making yourself miserable."
Angel shook his head. "I just don't feel like I deserve to have fun. The number of people I've helped doesn't compare to the number I've hurt."
"Don't think of it as something you deserve or don't deserve. Enjoying life isn't a privilege. It's a right."
"So, how was the movie?" Cordiella's voice was sunny and pleasant as always as the two demons walked into the office.
"It was good. Good plot, good dialogue. The acting was nothing compared to you, though," Doyle commented.
"Well, of course not. Speaking of which, I have another audition tomorrow. It's a great role about a severely distraught woman in New York being torn apart by two men. Well, that's what it said on the audition sheet."
"Oh, so it's another soup commercial." Only Doyle snickered at his own joke.
"I guess I could never expect an unemotional alcoholic like you to see the true art behind the acting business," Cordiella playfully snapped.
"Hey, I found that tampon commercial you did extremely touching," Doyle giggled as he pulled up a chair. "In fact..."
Angel, having been solely a spectator in his friends' insult-fest, cautiously moved toward Doyle who was now bent over in his chair violently gripping his head. "Doyle?" Angel's voice was concerned.
Abruptly, Doyle jumped up and sent the chair flying across the room. "Cordy, get a pencil and paper," Angel instructed. The Irishmen, his hand still plastered firmly to his eye, slammed into the back wall and fell sprawling to the ground.
Cordiella scampered to the desk and returned to Angel, now bending over Doyle, with a pencil and a pad of paper. A few seconds passed before Doyle relaxed his hand and let it fall to the floor. Blinking his eyes to clear his blurred vision, he glanced up to see the faces of his anxious companions staring intensely at him.
"What did you see?" Angel asked as he took the paper and pencil and handed it to Doyle. Doyle grabbed both and frantically began scribbling down words and images on the pad. He handed it back to Angel, rested his head on the back wall, and let out long sigh.
"A dance club. Surprise, surprise. Oh, and a girl. Have we ever helped someone who wasn't a girl? The-Powers-That-Be really narrow down the innocent we're supposed to help, don't they," Cordiella remarked.
"Cordiella..." Angel pointed at the last word Doyle had scribbled on the paper.
"Bronze?" she questioned.
Doyle blinked a few more times and lifted his head to look at his coworkers. "Yeah. A sign on the outside of a building. I'm guessing it's the name of the club."
Angel and Cordiella locked eyes of amazement across the sprawled-out body of Doyle.
"Did I miss something?" Doyle asked as he forced himself to stand. "What's going on, guys?"
"Looks like you're going to pay Sunnydale a visit," Cordiella shrugged.
***
"Look, I know you want to see your old neighborhood, but you are not coming along," Angel laid down the law as he stuffed a bag full of all-black clothes for the trip. "Besides. We need you here to take care of any business."
Cordiella sighed as she furiously followed her boss around his apartment. "In case you haven't noticed, that phone in the office rings about once every week and even then, it turns out to be a wrong number. And I know he needs some work on his people skills, but I think Doyle can handle any customers that come while we're gone."
"I hate to bust your bubble, princess, but I won't be around to impress you with my suave social skills." Angel swung around from his closet to see Doyle's figure standing in the doorway with a bag in one hand and a six pack in the other.
"No. Neither of you are coming with me," Angel stated impatiently.
"Why not? Hey. Who says you have to do all the work by yourself? Come on, it'll be fun. We can have a few beers, exchange life stories, and save the songbird in distress," Doyle pleaded.
Angel stepped away from his packing once more and stared at Doyle. "Songbird?"
"Oh. Didn't I mention that? Sorry. The flashes come so quickly its hard to write everything down. You'd think I'd be better with all the practice I get..."
"Doyle. What do you mean 'songbird'?" Angel asked again.
"Well, the girl at that club, the Bronze. She was on stage singing. I didn't hear anything, but she was in front of the microphone. She looked like she had a nice voice."
"Any other details you left out?" Angel inquired, taking a step closer to Doyle.
The half-breed paused a moment and tried to envision what he had seen the day before. "No. Just the girl, the Bronze, and the cross."
"What cross?" Angel asked impatiently.
"Oops. I swear, I'm normally more accurate than this," he nervously replied as Angel and Cordiella angrily stared at him. He could feel the beads of sweat dripping down the back of his neck and decided to continue. "It was a necklace. A bright silver one. Around someone's neck. Probably the girl's. That would be my guess."
"Well, that'll be helpful," Angel said and he grabbed his fully packed bag and a cooler sitting by the refrigerator. Doyle stared after him as Angel walked past him and headed up the stairs.
"Hey, wait a second there, Angel. Where do you think you're going without me?" Doyle hurried to the stairs to meet him. "Just how are you supposed to recognized this girl without my help. I'm the only one whose seen her. And what about the life stories? Now's your chance to hear mine. Hey, it was your idea in the first place. Remember?"
"Angel's should probably take up the entire trip there and back. Yours, I'm guessing, will last about as long as that six pack you're carrying, which is to say, not long," Cordy commented.
Doyle gave a slight smile and a laugh. "If you only knew," He turned his attention back to Angel after taking amusement in the confusion on the girl's face. "Come on, man. I've done everything except get down on my knees and beg."
The vampire groaned as he stared at Doyle's pathetic expression. Angel knew he had asked for it earlier in their friendship. He had been the one to bring up the subject of Doyle's life story. There was no getting out.
To Be Continued...