In the Space of a Journey
Chapter Seven
England -- Aidan's Flat
After checking in at their hotel and dropping off their luggage, Doyle invited the Sunnydale residents to Aidan's flat for a chat. When they all got inside, the flat was full to bursting. Giles, Doyle, Buffy, Xander, Oz (and his crutches) and Cordelia had somehow managed to clear Doyle's junk away enough to find seats in the living room. Joyce took Sonya, and a change of clothes they'd brought along, into the bedroom to help the girl make herself presentable again.
In the main room, introductions had been made, and everyone was in the process of being caught up to speed on each other's stories.
"Let me get this straight..." Giles eyed Doyle, who lounged on the couch, from his position in a stiff-backed, wooden chair. "You say you're a half-demon, and you have the soul and the conscience of a man, but you have powers when you let your demon visage show?"
"Aye," Doyle replied with a nod.
Giles continued, "And somewhere along the line something..."
"The Powers that Be," Doyle supplied.
"The Powers that Be," Giles repeated, "gave you the gift of visions of the future. Then, in one of these visions you saw... us?"
"Aye again," Doyle answered. "Somethin' bad's gonna happen here, an' it's got somethin' ta do wi' the Council. An' now that I know who ye all are, I'm suspectin' that someone's after either ye, Giles, or yer Slayer." He glanced at Buffy.
"Are you absolutely sure that the Council sent that hit man?" Buffy asked.
"I am," Doyle replied. "The only blokes in this country that know about me visions are the Council members that Aidan saw fit to tell." The mention of Aidan caused Doyle to glance up at the clock. "I wonder where Aidan is, anyway... He had a meetin' at the Compound this morning, but he shoulda been back by now."
"Maybe we should send out a search party," Cordelia piped up. "It would be horrible if something bad happened to poor Aidan."
Xander directed a shocked glance toward Cordelia. "You care?"
She shrugged her shapely shoulders. "He's *way* sexy."
Xander rolled his eyes and went back to ignoring her. Cordelia huffed a little, but stayed in her seat. Just then, Joyce and Sonya -- wearing a clean shirt, this time one in a deep brown color that set off her hair -- came back into the living room.
"All better?" Oz asked.
Sonya nodded. "And if I get into any more fights, this shirt should cover up blood and dirt stains much better than the white one."
"Way to plan ahead," Oz approved.
Sonya sat down next to him on the couch and directed glances at Doyle, Giles and Buffy. "So, are we still talking about the vision thing, or have we moved on yet."
"We're still talking about the visions," Buffy said with a sigh.
"And about how Aidan is missing," Cordelia interjected.
"Who's Aidan?" Sonya asked.
"Me old friend and the bloke who rents this flat," Doyle supplied.
"One of my old students, and an old friend from my days as an instructor for the Council," Giles added, causing everyone to look at him in surprise. "What? Can I not have led at least a little bit of a life before I met you all?"
"No!" Xander protested. "That's just not allowed. You're supposed to be staid, sometimes boring, dependable, old Giles forever. No skeletons are allowed in your closet."
Giles looked a bit pale, but he was saved from replying by the opening of the door. In walked a tall man in his late twenties to early thirties with classic good looks combined with blue eyes and well-trimmed dark hair.
"Aidan," Giles said, standing. "It's been awhile."
The newcomer looked at Giles in shock. "Rupert, I didn't expect... I mean, I knew I'd be seeing you tomorrow, but..."
His stammered greeting was interrupted by Cordelia squealing, "Aidan!" and running over to give him a hug. "When Doyle said you were missing I was so worried!"
Aidan looked shocked again. "Cordelia? Why are you...?" Then her statement broke through his fog of surprise, and he glared over at Doyle as he set Cordelia aside abruptly. "What did she mean, I'm missing..."
Doyle stood. "That's not what I said... I just wondered what was takin' ye so long to get back from yer meetin' at the Compound."
"I had to stop by the office for a couple of hours," Aidan explained. "Some people here do have to work!"
Not noticing the slight insult directed at him, Doyle continued, "Well, it's good yer back, me man. Things have been happenin' that need yer attention."
"Tell me," Aidan said, beginning to look a bit stressed.
"Well..." Cordelia began, shoving herself into his line of sight. "I was..."
"Not you," Aidan snapped. He gestured to Doyle. "Him."
Cordelia's face fell, and she fled out onto the balcony.
"I'm sorry, Cordelia. I didn't mean..." But it was too late. The door had already slammed behind her. Aidan sighed deeply, covering his eyes with his hands.
Giles decided now was the perfect time for him to take over. "Aidan, let me tell you what's been going on. You see, we ran into a little trouble at the airport..." Doyle moved aside to let the elder Watcher have his place nearest to Aidan.
Since they'd already been through this, Buffy and Xander stepped aside and started whispering. Xander looked at the glass door through which Cordelia had disappeared. Through the window, they could see her leaning against the railing of the balcony.
"Maybe someone should go talk to her," Buffy suggested.
Xander nodded. "I elect... you."
Buffy's eyes widened and she shook her head. "I don't want to go. You go. You've known her longer."
"That just means she's hated me longer," Xander protested. "She won't want to talk to me. You're a girl. You should do it."
"Sexist much?" Buffy put her hands on her hips.
"No, but the whole girl talk, girl bonding thing, you know?" Xander replied hopefully.
Doyle, who'd moved close enough to hear what they were saying, suddenly spoke up. "Let me do it."
"OK," Buffy and Xander chorused. Then they watched the small-statured Irishman make his way out onto the balcony.
"You think he'll be able to help?" Buffy asked.
"I think the appropriate question is, do you think he'll come out of it OK?" Xander replied, only half kidding.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- a Park
"This is boring!"
Angel pulled his head out of the jungle gym to see Faith sitting on the merry-go-round, idly pushing herself with one foot.
"Well, if you helped me, we'd be done faster," he replied snidely.
"There's nothing here," Faith objected. "I can tell. No vampires, feral or otherwise. Except you, of course."
Angel lifted an eyebrow at her snide tone, but didn't address her insult. "How can you tell? Can you feel it in your bones or something?"
"It's obvious," Faith said, ticking off her reasons on her finger. "Number one, if there were any hostiles here, they would have already attacked us, unless they were chicken. Number two, if they were chicken, they would have already retreated, unless they were stupid. Number three, if they were stupid, they would have already made some mistake and lead us to them. And number four, there aren't any kids around here, so why would the vamps even bother to show up?"
"You'd be surprised," Angel replied darkly. "This happens to be one of the favorite vampire haunts on this side of town. Once, this insane vampyress named Dru was about to put the bite on this little kid right near where you're sitting..."
"Boring!" Faith called, giving the merry-go-round a hard push that set it spinning quickly. "I really don't care about your personal exploits, Angel. Save the stories for someone who does."
Angel stalked over to the merry-go-round, and reached out, grabbing two of the bars. Met with his sudden, iron grasp, the piece of playground equipment shuddered to a halt. "Let's move on. I'm sure there's a cemetery calling our names."
"Oooh," Faith cooed playfully, "a graveyard. My kind of place. Maybe we'll actually find some action." Giving him a pert look, she jumped off the merry-go-round and started walking.
Forcing his eyes off the sultry sway of the commando leader's hips, Angel caught up with her quickly. "You should be careful what you wish for," he warned. "The Hellmouth has a way of giving it to you."
Faith rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
As the sounds of their bickering faded into the night, a small form crept out on all fours from the farthest shadows of the jungle gym, the area Faith had distracted Angel from searching. Emitting a low growl, the creature that looked like a wizened, little vampire stole a way in the opposite direction, filled with news for its mistress.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- Balcony of Aidan's Flat
Cordelia leaned against the railing and stared down into London with unseeing eyes.
"Stupid Aidan," she muttered. "See if I ever worry about him again." And she had been worried about him -- she'd been worried about a lot of things since a man she'd assumed to be a normal airport employee pulled a gun on her at the baggage carrousel.
Before, she'd always managed to put the nastiness of life behind her. Yes, there were bad things out there, but those things did not affect Cordelia Chase. She was insulated behind the walls of her daddy's money and her years of popularity. And there was always Xander and his cohorts to fight the creepy-crawlies so she didn't have to.
And then there was Aidan again. A guy she'd liked had turned her down, and in the most embarrassing way possible in front of a room full of her inferior classmates. Now whenever Buffy, Sonya, Xander or Oz looked at her, they wouldn't see the girl who had it all. They'd see the girl who was dissed by a stuffy Brit.
Her mind flashed back to James. She just couldn't get him out of her head. Or the cruel things he'd said to her. Her daddy *would* pay a ransom for her... wouldn't he? (Daddy does love me! He said so once, didn't he?) The lead feeling in Cordelia's heart began to get worse. Tears threatened to run out of the corners of her eyes. Stiffening her spine, she knew she had to stop this before she lost even more face.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Cordelia," she ordered, unconsciously mimicking the words her mother, the society matron of Sunnydale, had always said the minute her little girl started to cry. "Tears ruin your looks, and you've got to keep a stiff upper lip so no one knows you're down."
"It's a'right ta be down, lassie. It's even a'right to cry a little, as long as you have a nice, strong shoulder ta do it on..."
Cordelia looked up in surprise to see Doyle standing there, holding out a handkerchief. She hadn't even heard the door open. He gestured for her to take the handkerchief, so she did. She noticed it was embroidered with his initials, AFD.
Dabbing the corners of her eyes very carefully so as not to smudge her eyeliner, Cordelia muttered, "Thanks."
"Irish fairy godmother at yer service," Doyle said with a self-mocking grin. "Though I'm not drunk this time, I assure ye."
Cordelia flushed with embarrassment. Maybe it was her vulnerable emotional state, or maybe it was the gallant offer of a handkerchief in her moment of need, but Cordelia found herself doing something she never did... apologizing. "Doyle, I'm... uh... I'm really... I mean, I wanted to say I'm..."
"Sorry fer insultin' me dignity twice with that crack?" Doyle supplied with a grin.
"Yeah." Cordelia nodded. "I'm sorry."
"Don' mention it," Doyle replied grandly. "Twern't nothin'."
Cordelia favored him with one of her mega-watt smiles.
"Now," Doyle teased, "we should get ye back inside. Yer makeup is beginnin' ta run, and yer not lookin' at all yerself. And if I could have me handkerchief back now..."
Cordelia's smile turned into a frown at the insult -- however well meant -- to her looks. She extended her hand over the balcony railing and dropped the handkerchief. It began slowly fluttering down to the street below.
"Feel free to go after it," she suggested in a saccharine-sweet tone. Then she turned on her heel and went back into the flat to repair her damaged makeup, leaving Doyle staring mournfully over the side of the balcony.
"Me ma gave me that hanky..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- Parts Unknown
"Come here, my pretty one. Tell Mama what you've learned."
A luminous, bare arm beckoned from the shadows of a canopy bed. The feral vampire with glowing yellow eyes moved toward his mistress quickly on all fours. Its tongue lolled out the side of its mouth, stained with blood from a snack it had found on its way home.
"Come on, sweet Jaques! Come to Mama!" The fingers on the hand snapped. The sound echoed throughout the room, bouncing off walls carved from rock.
Jaques moved up to the edge of the bed and laid his chin on the side, much like a puppy begging its owner for a treat. The hand touched Jaques on the forehead, and the feral vampire trembled. A yellow glow engulfed them both. Jaques frothed at the mouth. A female laugh tinkled out from behind the curtain.
"So, my pretty, the self-proclaimed protectors of Sunnydale want action do they?"
Jaques trembled some more, jerking his head up and down in what might have been a nod.
"Well... we'll just have to give it to them, won't we?"
Jaques growled as the hand lifted. It disappeared behind the curtain and came back with a bloody glob of meat that looked as if it had been ripped directly from whatever, or whoever, it had been before. The meat hit the stone floor with a squish. Jaques pounced on it, licking it clean of all traces of blood.
"Enjoy your treat, Jaques. There will be more to come..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- Aidan's Flat
Aidan looked at Giles and Doyle unhappily. "So, you think it wasn't just a random..."
"A random underpaid, middle aged, working class airport attendant who just happened to know about Doyle's visions that went postal on us at the baggage carrousel?" Cordelia interrupted bluntly, giving him an arch look.
"Oh... er... yes, I see what you mean," Aidan replied.
"The thing we have to decide is, what do we do now?" Buffy interjected.
"Yeah... if the Watchers are in on this..." Xander began, but Aidan shook his head violently as he got up from the couch and began to pace back and forth across the room.
"I just can't believe the Council would have anything to do with this," Aidan protested. "Maybe something somewhere got leaked, but the Council would never..." He looked at Giles for support.
The older Watcher hesitated before saying, "I agree that I don't want to condemn the Council out of hand. We cannot just blame them with no proof..."
"Who else could it be?" Doyle demanded.
Aidan's gaze swung to the half demon and his face lit up as he had an idea. "Doyle!" he exclaimed. "You know you don't have the most pristine past. Maybe it was someone collecting on a debt, or someone who wants revenge, like the cousin of one of those Brackens you let die when you first got the visions..."
"Hey!" Doyle stood up and began to advance on his roommate, anger evident on his face. "What the hell are..."
"You know," Joyce interrupted in a loud voice, "I think it's time for us to get back to the hotel and get changed for dinner!"
"Good idea!" Buffy seconded, and the rest of the gang stood and began moving toward the door, Cordelia included.
The last to leave the tension-filled room, Giles paused between Aidan and Doyle. "If you like, you're both welcome to join us for dinner."
"Um..." Aidan hesitated. "I have a bit of work I must do before tomorrow. I don't think I can make it tonight."
"Right, well then..." Giles gave his former student an odd look and then turned for the door. "If you need us, call the hotel. You have the number. You should both be careful. If the assassin was prepared, he may know where you live."
"G'night, man," Doyle called, watching Giles leave as well. Then he turned his eyes on Aidan, who was staring uneasily at his shoes. "You've got some explainin' ta do, me friend." Doyle's voice took on an obvious edge. "What were ye doin' bringin' up stuff from me past that I told ye in confidence in front of perfect strangers?"
"You're just upset that your past made you look bad in front of the girl you have the hots for," Aidan remarked, turning to go in the other room as if the conversation were over.
Doyle laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving. "Wait just a bleedin' second!"
Shaking Doyle's hand off, Aidan answered, "Do you really want to get into this now?"
"Now's as good as any other time, I'm figurin'!" Doyle replied, his cheeks flushing with anger that had been building ever since Aidan's unintentional insult at airport. "Ye've been treatin' me like some kind of second class citizen fer weeks now, an' I'm tired of it! Ye never listen ta my ideas, ye deride me in public... What makes ye so special? Some hoity-toity job with the Council, an' a spiffy new accent?"
"'Hoity-toity job'?" Aidan shot back angrily. "The Council is trying to save the world from the minions of darkness! Without the Council there would be no Slayer, not to mention all of our other countermeasures..."
"Savin' the world! What a joke!" Doyle spat. "The Council's made up of blind fools and perverse hypocrites worried more about appearances and authority over their tools -- like the Slayer -- than real threats! My vision proves..."
"Some vision!" Aidan interrupted. "It took two months for something to even come from it, and you still don't know what, if anything, the big threat is. I sounded the alert at the Council, and now I look bad in front of my superiors!"
Doyle's eyes widened. "If ye didnae believe in me vision, then why did ye let me stay here so long!"
"Misguided friendship, I don't know!" Aidan threw his hands in the air in frustration. "You know, Doyle, maybe it would be better all around if you just left."
Hurt flared in Doyle's eyes, but he voice was calm. "Maybe so! I'll just get me things together right now..." He turned, half expecting Aidan to take back what he'd said, but Aidan was silent. Then Doyle looked up and found himself face-to-face with Cordelia standing in the doorway.
Chapter Seven
England -- Aidan's Flat
After checking in at their hotel and dropping off their luggage, Doyle invited the Sunnydale residents to Aidan's flat for a chat. When they all got inside, the flat was full to bursting. Giles, Doyle, Buffy, Xander, Oz (and his crutches) and Cordelia had somehow managed to clear Doyle's junk away enough to find seats in the living room. Joyce took Sonya, and a change of clothes they'd brought along, into the bedroom to help the girl make herself presentable again.
In the main room, introductions had been made, and everyone was in the process of being caught up to speed on each other's stories.
"Let me get this straight..." Giles eyed Doyle, who lounged on the couch, from his position in a stiff-backed, wooden chair. "You say you're a half-demon, and you have the soul and the conscience of a man, but you have powers when you let your demon visage show?"
"Aye," Doyle replied with a nod.
Giles continued, "And somewhere along the line something..."
"The Powers that Be," Doyle supplied.
"The Powers that Be," Giles repeated, "gave you the gift of visions of the future. Then, in one of these visions you saw... us?"
"Aye again," Doyle answered. "Somethin' bad's gonna happen here, an' it's got somethin' ta do wi' the Council. An' now that I know who ye all are, I'm suspectin' that someone's after either ye, Giles, or yer Slayer." He glanced at Buffy.
"Are you absolutely sure that the Council sent that hit man?" Buffy asked.
"I am," Doyle replied. "The only blokes in this country that know about me visions are the Council members that Aidan saw fit to tell." The mention of Aidan caused Doyle to glance up at the clock. "I wonder where Aidan is, anyway... He had a meetin' at the Compound this morning, but he shoulda been back by now."
"Maybe we should send out a search party," Cordelia piped up. "It would be horrible if something bad happened to poor Aidan."
Xander directed a shocked glance toward Cordelia. "You care?"
She shrugged her shapely shoulders. "He's *way* sexy."
Xander rolled his eyes and went back to ignoring her. Cordelia huffed a little, but stayed in her seat. Just then, Joyce and Sonya -- wearing a clean shirt, this time one in a deep brown color that set off her hair -- came back into the living room.
"All better?" Oz asked.
Sonya nodded. "And if I get into any more fights, this shirt should cover up blood and dirt stains much better than the white one."
"Way to plan ahead," Oz approved.
Sonya sat down next to him on the couch and directed glances at Doyle, Giles and Buffy. "So, are we still talking about the vision thing, or have we moved on yet."
"We're still talking about the visions," Buffy said with a sigh.
"And about how Aidan is missing," Cordelia interjected.
"Who's Aidan?" Sonya asked.
"Me old friend and the bloke who rents this flat," Doyle supplied.
"One of my old students, and an old friend from my days as an instructor for the Council," Giles added, causing everyone to look at him in surprise. "What? Can I not have led at least a little bit of a life before I met you all?"
"No!" Xander protested. "That's just not allowed. You're supposed to be staid, sometimes boring, dependable, old Giles forever. No skeletons are allowed in your closet."
Giles looked a bit pale, but he was saved from replying by the opening of the door. In walked a tall man in his late twenties to early thirties with classic good looks combined with blue eyes and well-trimmed dark hair.
"Aidan," Giles said, standing. "It's been awhile."
The newcomer looked at Giles in shock. "Rupert, I didn't expect... I mean, I knew I'd be seeing you tomorrow, but..."
His stammered greeting was interrupted by Cordelia squealing, "Aidan!" and running over to give him a hug. "When Doyle said you were missing I was so worried!"
Aidan looked shocked again. "Cordelia? Why are you...?" Then her statement broke through his fog of surprise, and he glared over at Doyle as he set Cordelia aside abruptly. "What did she mean, I'm missing..."
Doyle stood. "That's not what I said... I just wondered what was takin' ye so long to get back from yer meetin' at the Compound."
"I had to stop by the office for a couple of hours," Aidan explained. "Some people here do have to work!"
Not noticing the slight insult directed at him, Doyle continued, "Well, it's good yer back, me man. Things have been happenin' that need yer attention."
"Tell me," Aidan said, beginning to look a bit stressed.
"Well..." Cordelia began, shoving herself into his line of sight. "I was..."
"Not you," Aidan snapped. He gestured to Doyle. "Him."
Cordelia's face fell, and she fled out onto the balcony.
"I'm sorry, Cordelia. I didn't mean..." But it was too late. The door had already slammed behind her. Aidan sighed deeply, covering his eyes with his hands.
Giles decided now was the perfect time for him to take over. "Aidan, let me tell you what's been going on. You see, we ran into a little trouble at the airport..." Doyle moved aside to let the elder Watcher have his place nearest to Aidan.
Since they'd already been through this, Buffy and Xander stepped aside and started whispering. Xander looked at the glass door through which Cordelia had disappeared. Through the window, they could see her leaning against the railing of the balcony.
"Maybe someone should go talk to her," Buffy suggested.
Xander nodded. "I elect... you."
Buffy's eyes widened and she shook her head. "I don't want to go. You go. You've known her longer."
"That just means she's hated me longer," Xander protested. "She won't want to talk to me. You're a girl. You should do it."
"Sexist much?" Buffy put her hands on her hips.
"No, but the whole girl talk, girl bonding thing, you know?" Xander replied hopefully.
Doyle, who'd moved close enough to hear what they were saying, suddenly spoke up. "Let me do it."
"OK," Buffy and Xander chorused. Then they watched the small-statured Irishman make his way out onto the balcony.
"You think he'll be able to help?" Buffy asked.
"I think the appropriate question is, do you think he'll come out of it OK?" Xander replied, only half kidding.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- a Park
"This is boring!"
Angel pulled his head out of the jungle gym to see Faith sitting on the merry-go-round, idly pushing herself with one foot.
"Well, if you helped me, we'd be done faster," he replied snidely.
"There's nothing here," Faith objected. "I can tell. No vampires, feral or otherwise. Except you, of course."
Angel lifted an eyebrow at her snide tone, but didn't address her insult. "How can you tell? Can you feel it in your bones or something?"
"It's obvious," Faith said, ticking off her reasons on her finger. "Number one, if there were any hostiles here, they would have already attacked us, unless they were chicken. Number two, if they were chicken, they would have already retreated, unless they were stupid. Number three, if they were stupid, they would have already made some mistake and lead us to them. And number four, there aren't any kids around here, so why would the vamps even bother to show up?"
"You'd be surprised," Angel replied darkly. "This happens to be one of the favorite vampire haunts on this side of town. Once, this insane vampyress named Dru was about to put the bite on this little kid right near where you're sitting..."
"Boring!" Faith called, giving the merry-go-round a hard push that set it spinning quickly. "I really don't care about your personal exploits, Angel. Save the stories for someone who does."
Angel stalked over to the merry-go-round, and reached out, grabbing two of the bars. Met with his sudden, iron grasp, the piece of playground equipment shuddered to a halt. "Let's move on. I'm sure there's a cemetery calling our names."
"Oooh," Faith cooed playfully, "a graveyard. My kind of place. Maybe we'll actually find some action." Giving him a pert look, she jumped off the merry-go-round and started walking.
Forcing his eyes off the sultry sway of the commando leader's hips, Angel caught up with her quickly. "You should be careful what you wish for," he warned. "The Hellmouth has a way of giving it to you."
Faith rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
As the sounds of their bickering faded into the night, a small form crept out on all fours from the farthest shadows of the jungle gym, the area Faith had distracted Angel from searching. Emitting a low growl, the creature that looked like a wizened, little vampire stole a way in the opposite direction, filled with news for its mistress.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- Balcony of Aidan's Flat
Cordelia leaned against the railing and stared down into London with unseeing eyes.
"Stupid Aidan," she muttered. "See if I ever worry about him again." And she had been worried about him -- she'd been worried about a lot of things since a man she'd assumed to be a normal airport employee pulled a gun on her at the baggage carrousel.
Before, she'd always managed to put the nastiness of life behind her. Yes, there were bad things out there, but those things did not affect Cordelia Chase. She was insulated behind the walls of her daddy's money and her years of popularity. And there was always Xander and his cohorts to fight the creepy-crawlies so she didn't have to.
And then there was Aidan again. A guy she'd liked had turned her down, and in the most embarrassing way possible in front of a room full of her inferior classmates. Now whenever Buffy, Sonya, Xander or Oz looked at her, they wouldn't see the girl who had it all. They'd see the girl who was dissed by a stuffy Brit.
Her mind flashed back to James. She just couldn't get him out of her head. Or the cruel things he'd said to her. Her daddy *would* pay a ransom for her... wouldn't he? (Daddy does love me! He said so once, didn't he?) The lead feeling in Cordelia's heart began to get worse. Tears threatened to run out of the corners of her eyes. Stiffening her spine, she knew she had to stop this before she lost even more face.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Cordelia," she ordered, unconsciously mimicking the words her mother, the society matron of Sunnydale, had always said the minute her little girl started to cry. "Tears ruin your looks, and you've got to keep a stiff upper lip so no one knows you're down."
"It's a'right ta be down, lassie. It's even a'right to cry a little, as long as you have a nice, strong shoulder ta do it on..."
Cordelia looked up in surprise to see Doyle standing there, holding out a handkerchief. She hadn't even heard the door open. He gestured for her to take the handkerchief, so she did. She noticed it was embroidered with his initials, AFD.
Dabbing the corners of her eyes very carefully so as not to smudge her eyeliner, Cordelia muttered, "Thanks."
"Irish fairy godmother at yer service," Doyle said with a self-mocking grin. "Though I'm not drunk this time, I assure ye."
Cordelia flushed with embarrassment. Maybe it was her vulnerable emotional state, or maybe it was the gallant offer of a handkerchief in her moment of need, but Cordelia found herself doing something she never did... apologizing. "Doyle, I'm... uh... I'm really... I mean, I wanted to say I'm..."
"Sorry fer insultin' me dignity twice with that crack?" Doyle supplied with a grin.
"Yeah." Cordelia nodded. "I'm sorry."
"Don' mention it," Doyle replied grandly. "Twern't nothin'."
Cordelia favored him with one of her mega-watt smiles.
"Now," Doyle teased, "we should get ye back inside. Yer makeup is beginnin' ta run, and yer not lookin' at all yerself. And if I could have me handkerchief back now..."
Cordelia's smile turned into a frown at the insult -- however well meant -- to her looks. She extended her hand over the balcony railing and dropped the handkerchief. It began slowly fluttering down to the street below.
"Feel free to go after it," she suggested in a saccharine-sweet tone. Then she turned on her heel and went back into the flat to repair her damaged makeup, leaving Doyle staring mournfully over the side of the balcony.
"Me ma gave me that hanky..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- Parts Unknown
"Come here, my pretty one. Tell Mama what you've learned."
A luminous, bare arm beckoned from the shadows of a canopy bed. The feral vampire with glowing yellow eyes moved toward his mistress quickly on all fours. Its tongue lolled out the side of its mouth, stained with blood from a snack it had found on its way home.
"Come on, sweet Jaques! Come to Mama!" The fingers on the hand snapped. The sound echoed throughout the room, bouncing off walls carved from rock.
Jaques moved up to the edge of the bed and laid his chin on the side, much like a puppy begging its owner for a treat. The hand touched Jaques on the forehead, and the feral vampire trembled. A yellow glow engulfed them both. Jaques frothed at the mouth. A female laugh tinkled out from behind the curtain.
"So, my pretty, the self-proclaimed protectors of Sunnydale want action do they?"
Jaques trembled some more, jerking his head up and down in what might have been a nod.
"Well... we'll just have to give it to them, won't we?"
Jaques growled as the hand lifted. It disappeared behind the curtain and came back with a bloody glob of meat that looked as if it had been ripped directly from whatever, or whoever, it had been before. The meat hit the stone floor with a squish. Jaques pounced on it, licking it clean of all traces of blood.
"Enjoy your treat, Jaques. There will be more to come..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- Aidan's Flat
Aidan looked at Giles and Doyle unhappily. "So, you think it wasn't just a random..."
"A random underpaid, middle aged, working class airport attendant who just happened to know about Doyle's visions that went postal on us at the baggage carrousel?" Cordelia interrupted bluntly, giving him an arch look.
"Oh... er... yes, I see what you mean," Aidan replied.
"The thing we have to decide is, what do we do now?" Buffy interjected.
"Yeah... if the Watchers are in on this..." Xander began, but Aidan shook his head violently as he got up from the couch and began to pace back and forth across the room.
"I just can't believe the Council would have anything to do with this," Aidan protested. "Maybe something somewhere got leaked, but the Council would never..." He looked at Giles for support.
The older Watcher hesitated before saying, "I agree that I don't want to condemn the Council out of hand. We cannot just blame them with no proof..."
"Who else could it be?" Doyle demanded.
Aidan's gaze swung to the half demon and his face lit up as he had an idea. "Doyle!" he exclaimed. "You know you don't have the most pristine past. Maybe it was someone collecting on a debt, or someone who wants revenge, like the cousin of one of those Brackens you let die when you first got the visions..."
"Hey!" Doyle stood up and began to advance on his roommate, anger evident on his face. "What the hell are..."
"You know," Joyce interrupted in a loud voice, "I think it's time for us to get back to the hotel and get changed for dinner!"
"Good idea!" Buffy seconded, and the rest of the gang stood and began moving toward the door, Cordelia included.
The last to leave the tension-filled room, Giles paused between Aidan and Doyle. "If you like, you're both welcome to join us for dinner."
"Um..." Aidan hesitated. "I have a bit of work I must do before tomorrow. I don't think I can make it tonight."
"Right, well then..." Giles gave his former student an odd look and then turned for the door. "If you need us, call the hotel. You have the number. You should both be careful. If the assassin was prepared, he may know where you live."
"G'night, man," Doyle called, watching Giles leave as well. Then he turned his eyes on Aidan, who was staring uneasily at his shoes. "You've got some explainin' ta do, me friend." Doyle's voice took on an obvious edge. "What were ye doin' bringin' up stuff from me past that I told ye in confidence in front of perfect strangers?"
"You're just upset that your past made you look bad in front of the girl you have the hots for," Aidan remarked, turning to go in the other room as if the conversation were over.
Doyle laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving. "Wait just a bleedin' second!"
Shaking Doyle's hand off, Aidan answered, "Do you really want to get into this now?"
"Now's as good as any other time, I'm figurin'!" Doyle replied, his cheeks flushing with anger that had been building ever since Aidan's unintentional insult at airport. "Ye've been treatin' me like some kind of second class citizen fer weeks now, an' I'm tired of it! Ye never listen ta my ideas, ye deride me in public... What makes ye so special? Some hoity-toity job with the Council, an' a spiffy new accent?"
"'Hoity-toity job'?" Aidan shot back angrily. "The Council is trying to save the world from the minions of darkness! Without the Council there would be no Slayer, not to mention all of our other countermeasures..."
"Savin' the world! What a joke!" Doyle spat. "The Council's made up of blind fools and perverse hypocrites worried more about appearances and authority over their tools -- like the Slayer -- than real threats! My vision proves..."
"Some vision!" Aidan interrupted. "It took two months for something to even come from it, and you still don't know what, if anything, the big threat is. I sounded the alert at the Council, and now I look bad in front of my superiors!"
Doyle's eyes widened. "If ye didnae believe in me vision, then why did ye let me stay here so long!"
"Misguided friendship, I don't know!" Aidan threw his hands in the air in frustration. "You know, Doyle, maybe it would be better all around if you just left."
Hurt flared in Doyle's eyes, but he voice was calm. "Maybe so! I'll just get me things together right now..." He turned, half expecting Aidan to take back what he'd said, but Aidan was silent. Then Doyle looked up and found himself face-to-face with Cordelia standing in the doorway.