Title: The Princess and the Professor
Series: Destiny Found, part 10
Affiliated Series: Destiny Lost
Authors: Sonya and Erin
E-mail: sonyajeb@swbell.net OR carynsilver@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Category: C/D, AU, relationship oriented
*Disclaimers and Timeline Info in Part 1!!!!*
--------------------------
"Hello, Lindsey. And how are you adjusting to life in our happy little town?"
Lindsey McDonald looked up from the paperwork he'd been attending to. His new job as Mayor Wilkens's lawyer/assistant paid well (well enough, and with enough perks that he'd given up the job at Wolfram & Hart to come to Sunnydale), but there was plenty of work to do to earn that money. Lindsey had only been in town for a week, and already his desk was overflowing with paperwork.
"Just fine, Mayor," Lindsey answered.
"You're doing a fine job, here," the Mayor said, giving Lindsey a wide smile. "A fine job. But something saddens me."
"And what would that be?" Lindsey asked. "I got the mess with the priests settled just this morning..."
The Mayor waved Lindsey silent. "Let's not talk about that any more. It's not fitting for such an occasion as this."
"Occasion?" Lindsey replied, mystified.
"Valentine's Day." The Mayor's smile widened even further. "Don't let work keep you from whatever plans you might have."
"Well, I haven't been in town long enough to have plans."
The Mayor's face fell. "Well, we can't have that, can we? You can't be alone on Valentine's Day." He thought for a minute. "I know. My neighbor has a nice daughter. Very pretty, and the loveliest personality. And I'll reserve a table for you at the best restaurant in town."
Going on a blind date with your boss's friend was never a good idea. Quickly, Lindsey said, "Actually, Mayor, there is one girl I've met in Sunnydale. Perhaps I should give her a call."
"That sounds splendid." The Mayor didn't seem too disappointed that he couldn't fix up his newest employee. He handed Lindsey a small, white card. "Give this to the matradee at La Petite Cafe, and your meals will be on the house. Not to mention, you'll have the best table in the place. We've got quite the business coming up on Monday. I'll really need you in top form. A fun holiday evening will be just the thing."
"Thank you," Lindsey said.
When the Mayor left his office, Lindsey pulled out his rolodex. "All right... where did I put her number..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cordelia Chase had given up hope of a decent Valentine's Day days ago. For some reason, there just wasn't anyone around who interested her. Not that she hadn't been asked out for the evening. She'd actually garnered invitations for a romantic dinner for two (with a sophomore, of all things... like she, a senior, would actually be seen with him, even if he was a cutie), a double date in LA, complete with limo and obligatory roses and chocolates (with Harmony's cousin in from out of town, Cordelia knew she could do better, and had told Harmony so), and even to the Valentine's Day shindig at the Cellar (the guy was popular, and rich, but so dull... after Percy, Cordelia wouldn't make that mistake again). However, none of the invitations had met her high standards. The guy list at S.H.S. had fallen off this year. Maybe it was part of being a senior -- there weren't any older, sophisticated men to chose from. Only the malcontents in her own grade.
Now, her Valentine's Day plans consisted of rattling around her parent's house, alone. Her father was off on another business trip. China, this time. And her mother. Well, that didn't really bear thinking about, though it hadn't escaped Cordelia's attention that the new house boy was suspiciously gone as well. The cute, gold-digging houseboy. Cordelia had spurned his fake attentions, but apparently her mother had not.
"Well, the perks of being alone on Valentine's Day include me not having to get all dolled up," Cordelia told her reflection in her vanity mirror with false bravado. At school today, she'd pretended that she had huge plans with someone really great tonight. Private plans, she'd said. Harmony and the girls had believed her, of course. How could they do otherwise?
The door bell rang, echoing throughout the large house. A few minutes later, the intercom in her room buzzed.
"Miss Chase?"
"Yes, Matilda?" Cordelia called.
"Some girls are here to see you."
"Show them up, and then you can go home early. Enjoy your holiday." Cordelia knew Matilda had a boyfriend, and suddenly decided that at least her maid should enjoy the evening.
"Thank you, Miss."
As she uttered the words, Cordelia sprang up from her seat and began pulling outfits out of her walk in closet. When Harmony and whoever else came up here to see if she was telling the truth, they would find her knee-deep in preparation for her "date."
"Hi!"
Cordelia dropped her black leather miniskirt at the sound of the unexpected voice. She turned to see Amy Madison and Buffy Summers standing in her doorway. "What are you guys doing here?"
They came in, and Amy said, "Well, we thought we'd see if you wanted to join our Anti-Valentine's Day party."
Buffy nodded. "We're watching movies and eating lots of junk food at my place. My mom's joining us, too. And maybe Jenny Calendar."
"Sonya is, of course, going on a stomach-churningly romantic date with Oz," Amy said, flopping down on Cordelia's canopied bed.
"And Faith is taking the early patrol tonight," Buffy added. "I'm on the late shift."
"Didn't you hear that I have a hot date?" Cordelia asked, having a sudden panic attack, though she didn't let it show on her face. Had she been so transparent? If Harmony and the others had guessed, she would never live it down. Cordelia began contemplating a move to some little rural town where no one from California would know her. Someplace like Roswell, New Mexico, where she could hide her humiliation among hicks and alien fanatics.
"Come on, Cordelia," Amy said. "We know you better than that."
"You may be able to fool the other members of the Brat Pack, but not us," Buffy added. "We know what you're like when you're excited about a guy. That day at the mall stands out in my mind."
Cordelia actually smiled. Imagine, girls who knew her, actually knew her. The idea was made her feel both pleased and frighteningly vulnerable at the same time.
Just then her private line rang, interrupting the conversation. Cordelia pasted a smile on her face that would carry over phone wires and picked up the white and gold antique telephone receiver from her bedside table. "Hello?"
"Hi, Cordelia."
For just a second, Cordelia was at a loss. Then, she recognized the voice, and felt her heart speed up. But she had to keep it casual. "I thought you lost my number. It's been months."
"I was in L.A., sifting through the job offers. I just moved to Sunnydale, actually."
"Really, that's great." She kept her voice calm, but began bouncing up and down just a little to release her excess energy.
Buffy and Amy looked at Cordelia in surprise as they waited to find out who the person was making Cordelia so excited.
"Anyway," Lindsey said, "I was calling to ask you out. For tonight."
Cordelia twisted the phone cord around her finger. "I don't know. That's pretty short notice, and I did have some other plans in mind..." Not a complete lie, but she hoped he assumed it was another guy instead of a bunch of girls, pizza and a VCR.
"I've got a premium table at La Petite Cafe. I promise you'll have a great time. We can even go dancing afterwards. I've heard about this great little club over in Calvin."
"That does sound tempting," Cordelia allowed, not wanting to seem too eager.
"How about this," Lindsey suggested. "You meet me at the restaurant at seven, and if we don't have fun you can leave at any point and drive yourself home."
"You talked me into it," Cordelia agreed. "I'll see you there at seven."
"Great."
"You know," Cordelia told him honestly, "I'm really glad you called me."
"Me, too," Lindsey replied. His voice was warm and raised goosebumps on the back of her neck. "See you later."
Cordelia hung up her phone, and immediately Buffy and Amy began the third degree.
"All right, Missy!" Amy said. "Who was that, and why are you so excited you let your usual cool exterior drop for so long?"
"I think it must be the guy of her dreams," Buffy guessed.
"It was Lindsey," Cordelia told them, brimming with excitement. "The cute lawyer from the mall."
"Riley's friend?" Amy asked, catching a gleam of excitement herself. "He didn't want to double with Riley, did he? I kept hoping that guy would call me, but he didn't..."
"Sorry," Cordelia answered, though she wasn't really that sorry. After all, Amy had Rio, even if she didn't know it. Cordelia had a sense about these things. "But Lindsey just moved to Sunnydale, and he wants us to go out tonight. He's got a table at the best, and most expensive, restaurant in town." Cordelia sank down in an over-stuffed, white chair next to her bed. "Lindsey is so great. He's mature, and he's a career man. He dresses well, and has plenty of money. And, to top it all off, he's both attractive *and* interesting. Something all the boys at our school lack in the extreme!"
Buffy smiled. "I'm glad for you, Cordelia. Really glad. You're going to have a great time."
"I know!" Amy cried. "How about we help you pick out your outfit?"
Cordelia had a momentary flashback of the day she'd run into them at the mall and the awful way the two blondes had wanted to dress Sonya, a fellow brunette. "Umm... how about you help me decide between a couple of outfits I already have in mind?"
"Sure," Amy agreed easily.
It took awhile, but eventually Cordelia was ready for her date. And not a moment too soon. Her wall clock read 6:30, and she had to drive to the restaurant, park and get there in time for a last minute makeup check in the ladies room.
"You look killer," Amy said, as Cordelia gave a last twirl in front of the mirror. Buffy nodded, and Cordelia had to agree as well. She'd gone for the older woman look since her date was with an older man. Her hair was up in a French twist, baring her shapely neck, and she'd gone for sophisticated makeup shades instead of some of the bright eyeliners and lipsticks she normally favored. She wore a form-fitting black sheath dress that ended just above her knees. She found black hose and shiny, black, high-heeled pumps that made her legs seem much longer. She put a gauzy, black evening jacket on over the sleeveless dress, and added a string of pearls around her neck.
"Very sophisticated, too," Buffy added. She stood up. "I guess we should get out of your hair."
"Yeah, the other gals are waiting," Amy agreed.
As the girls were leaving, Cordelia called, "Hey, um, thanks for coming over, and for inviting me to the movie night."
"No problem," Buffy replied.
"Yeah, there's always next time," Amy added.
Cordelia watched them leave, and then picked up her small, black evening purse. She threw in a tube of lipstick, her drivers' license, keys, and some money, just in case. Then she was ready to go.
"All right, Miss Chase," she told her reflection as she stood poised at the door to her room. "Get ready for a night you will never forget!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Valentine's Day sucks."
Doyle groaned repeatedly as he pulled his car out of the Summers' driveway.
"Women's night, me arse. They could have bloody well let me come. I'm just as dateless as they are."
He sighed. Living in Joyce Summers' garage apartment was normally a good deal. Free food and friendly companions almost any time he needed them. Except on the most depressing night for a single, half-demon, red-blooded male. Valentine's Day. Of course, Doyle could have stayed in his small living space, but the walls had started to close in on him. Visions of past Valentine's Days (memories... not the painful PTB visions) kept flashing through his mind. Visions of his time with Harry, and how he would probably never find another relationship like that in his life. It didn't help that Harry had recently sent him a message -- divorce papers. Now they were really free of each other. She'd wanted him to meet her new guy, her new fiancée. But Doyle had flatly refused, and Harry hadn't pushed the issue.
Heaving a deep sigh, Doyle puttered around in his car, trying to decide where to go. He couldn't go out to a restaurant. He wouldn't be able to eat with all the sappy lovers around. Doyle ended up driving aimlessly. Suddenly, he found himself on a familiar stretch of road. He was cruising through the wealthy section of town, past mansions and estates. A familiar mansion was on the next block. The Chase mansion.
"Maybe I'll stop by and see 'Delia," Doyle mumbled. "Despite that grand show she put on last night, I know she don' have a date... We can commiserate..." He was Cordelia's chemistry tutor, and he and the fiery brunette had spent a lot of time together in the past few weeks. Of course, all she did was bicker with him, but, somehow, Doyle found it fun to push her buttons.
Crash!
Doyle's head whipped back, banging painfully against the headrest of his old car. He looked up and saw that he'd hit someone coming out of a driveway.
"Teach me ta be woolgatherin' while I'm drivin'." Doyle shook his head, and got out of the car. Luckily, his pile of junk didn't seem to be too damaged. The sports car, on the other hand, had completely crumpled over the rear, passenger-side tire. It wasn't pretty. Suddenly, Doyle's heart caught in his throat. He recognized that car. He'd ridden in that car. His eyes flashed to the driveway out of which the car had barreled. The Chase driveway.
The door of the sports car opened, and a pair of endless legs capped by stiletto heels popped out. The heels clicked angrily when they touched the asphalt. The legs were followed by a ton of curves smoothed into a basic, black dress. But what halted Doyle in his tracks were the eyes... brown, beautiful, and more angry than he'd ever seen them.
"Allen Francis Doyle... what the hell are you doing?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"'Delia. I'm so sorry. I didnae mean ta... I don' know what..." His words trailed off to mumbled swearing and self-flagellation.
Cordelia glared down at him from her heel-enhanced height. "You'd better have insurance, Mister, or I'll have to have my Daddy get your visa revoked."
"I'll pay fer all the damages." His throat muscles flexed nervously, as both their minds flashed to the fact that her car cost more than he made in a year as an elementary school teacher. "Somehow."
"Great, just great." Cordelia reached back into her car and pulled out her handbag. "I get asked out on the most important date of my whole, entire life, and *you* run me down in your piece of crap car. And it's not like it even matters to you. Your car looks better with dents in it!"
"Should we call a tow truck?" Doyle asked.
Cordelia checked her slim, gold watch. It was after six thirty. If she had to wait for a tow truck, she'd never make it to the restaurant in time. "Push it."
Doyle raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, lass?"
"You heard me." Cordelia placed a French-manicured hand on a black-clad hip. "Push it. Up into the driveway so no one will hit it. Then you can give me a ride to the restaurant where I'm meeting my date. And *then* you can come back here and call the tow truck."
Doyle sighed. "Aye, lass."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After several minutes of back-breaking labor, Doyle managed to heave the car a few feet forward. Cordelia seemed satisfied and hopped into the front seat of his car before he could even think of opening the door for her. She gingerly settled herself on his aged interior, pulled a compact out of her tiny purse and started touching up her makeup.
A few minutes later, he'd made a U-turn and had started driving back toward downtown.
"So," Doyle asked, breaking the silence, "who's this date yer so worked up over?"
The compact snapped closed. "No one you know."
"Yer not going out with the sophomore, are ye?"
One look from her told him what she thought of that option.
"Then who is he?" Somehow, Doyle just had to know.
"If you must know," Cordelia said airily, "his name is Lindsey. He's a lawyer, rich and very cute. I met him at the mall."
Doyle stared at the road in front of them. A rich, young, hot shot lawyer. Sounded perfect for Cordelia, or at least it was supposed to. Sometimes it was hard to imagine the girl he tutored, the girl who either laughed at his jokes or rolled her eyes at them so endearingly, the girl who called him professor when she wanted to get his goat, the girl Cordelia became when she didn't have anyone around to impress (Doyle knew he wasn't up there on her Must Impress list, and he was OK with that)... sometimes it was hard to imagine that Cordelia with someone... shallow.
"Sounds great," Doyle finally said. Then he shook himself out of this moody attitude and found a grin. "Does the bloke happen to have a sister? Or maybe a cousin? I donae pretend to be picky..."
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Even if he did have a sister... or a cousin, it would be way too late. Besides, he's new in town. I think he lives alone."
Doyle shrugged. "Too bad fer me."
A frown wrinkled her face for a moment. "So... what are you going to do tonight?"
"I suppose I'll be spendin' the night o' lovers waitin' fer a tow-truck. After I drop ye off fer yer date, o' course."
"You know, Doyle, if you have other plans... you could get the car towed in the morning. My parents won't be back for a couple of days. No one will notice it."
He shot her a smile. "I didnae know ye cared about me social life, princess."
She shot him a glare. "I don't. I was just being nice. And if you call me princess again, professor, I'll... I'll..."
Cordelia never got to vocalize what would probably have been a horrible threat that would have made Doyle cower for his life. Suddenly, his car shuddered and made a horrible groaning noise. The steering wheel began to shake. Doyle grabbed it with both hands and willed it to stop. [Not now, damn it!] But his will wasn't strong enough. The ancient car (he'd bought it for a couple of hundred bucks, what could he expect?) ground to a noisy and painful stop by the side of the road. Steam flowed through the cracks of the hood and into the clear night sky.
"I guess this means we're walkin'?" Doyle was almost afraid to look at her, with good reason.
Cordelia's mouth worked, but she couldn't think of anything to say. Then the perfect phrase came to mind. "This is the worst night of my whole, entire life... thanks to you!"
Her teeth ground together angrily as she got out of the car and began walking toward downtown. Luckily, it was less than half a mile now. Though that half of a mile was through the heart of Sunnydale in the dark of night. Doyle grabbed his leather jacket from the back seat and hurried after her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cordelia walked in silence. She could hear the click of her heels on the asphalt and the hurried thump of Doyle's feet as he strained to catch up. She said nothing when he materialized by her side. Her breath fogged in the mid-February air. It doesn't get as cold in California as in many placed in the country, but it was cold enough that her gauzy evening jacket wasn't doing a very good job of protecting her naked arms from the cold.
"Here."
She felt the comforting weight of leather over her shoulders, and threw Doyle a side-long glance. If it were summer, and daylight, she would drop the jacket on the ground and walk away while he tried to pick it up. However, it wasn't summer, and she was cold. It was also night, and Cordelia was practical enough to realize that if she planned to make this date, she might need Doyle as escort. Perhaps the big bads would leave her alone if she had a demon escort. Half demon. Whatever. She didn't say thank you for the jacket, but she slid her arms into its warm folds.
"Yer welcome." Doyle gazed at her as they walked. Him in his shirt sleeves, his ridiculous Hawaiian shirt flapping in the winter breeze. Orange was all wrong for him, color-wise, but Cordelia wasn't in the mood to talk about fashion, especially to someone so fashionably challenged.
"Do you want it back?" she asked bluntly.
Doyle shook his head.
Cordelia hugged the leather do her, feeling its weight against the silky material of her dress.
"Look, I'm sorry, but the car breakin' down... that's not me fault. I'm doin' the best I can here."
Finally, Cordelia relented. "I know, Doyle. But, it's just... this is the first date I've had with a guy I'm really interested in for a long time. All the guys at school, well, I have more fun in our tutoring sessions, if you can believe that. But Lindsey... he's... he could be something great... maybe." She shook her head. "Pretty stupid, huh? Like there's any such thing as true love any more."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lindsey checked his watch yet again. Nope. It was still working. Cordelia was just late. Really late. Normally, Lindsey wouldn't wait this long for any chick, but Cordelia... well, she had potential. He didn't want to believe that she would stand him up.
A smile curved his lips as he anticipated what the evening might have in store. If she ever showed up.
The waitress circled by his table for the fifth time in as many minutes.
"Have there been any calls for me?" he asked.
She shook her head, blonde hair waving with the motion. "No, Mr. McDonald. Not that I know of."
"Would you check?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
Lindsey watched her leave, absently noticing the attractive sway of her hips. Then his eyes went back down to his watch. She was just running late, right? Of course, that was it. Really.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"... Like there's any such thing as true love any more." For a brief second, it looked like Cordelia's eyes were about to tear up. Either that was a trick of the light, or she willed the tears away. Whichever was true, she put her brave face on again, just like she did every time she got hurt or blindsided. Spending so much time together doing Scooby Gang stuff and tutoring, Doyle had seen it before.
That's when Doyle knew it. He knew exactly what the funny feeling was he got in his stomach when she walked in the room. He knew why he loved to get her goat so much. He knew why he kept tutoring her in chemistry, even though he had to study ahead of time to be ready for her. He knew why the thought of her going out with some hotshot, rich, smooth lawyer on tonight of all nights was driving him slowly insane. How could he not have realized this before? It hadn't been like this with Harry. With Harry it had felt completely different. But this was it. Doyle was completely and totally in love with Cordelia... and there wasn't anything he could do about it.
He was silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally, he knew there was only one thing he could do. "I'll get you there in time."
Her eyes opened wide. "How?"
"I know a short cut."
She glanced at her watch. "I'm already late. This would have to be one hell of a short cut."
"Trust me." He held out a hand to her.
She didn't hesitate, but grabbed his hand. Doyle turned off the road, plunging through an alley. It wasn't smart to take allies alone at night in Sunnydale, but Doyle meant business. Maybe any lurky creatures in the back-alley route he chose sensed that and decided to hold off for easier prey. Riled up, a half demon could be pretty tough stuff. Or maybe they were just lucky enough to pick the alleys that were empty for the night. Either way, it didn't matter. They reached the center of down in half the time it would have taken them via legitimate roads and sidewalks.
Cordelia saw the restaurant where she was to meet Lindsey gleaming in the distance. She could hear the music of a string quartet through the open doors, beckoning her. She checked her watch. She was very, very late, but maybe he was still there. Without the short cut, there would have been no chance.
"Go, lass," Doyle urged. "Yer man's waitin'."
She was halfway to the restaurant, when she suddenly turned and walked back toward Doyle. He looked up in surprise. She handed him back his jacket and smiled at him. An actual real smile. "Thanks, Doyle. For getting me here. It was a great short cut. Of course, I wouldn't have needed it if you hadn't..." She paused, and stopped that train of thought. "Just... thanks." She leaned in and gave him a hug.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lindsey paid the tab for the undrunk bottle of wine with a scowl on his handsome face. He'd been stood up! This was a first. What was he going to tell the Mayor? Of course the Mayor would find out about it, the man had set up the reservations for Pete's sake, and he had eyes and ears everywhere in this town. Another thought struck him. What the hell would he tell Riley? His long-time friend would never let him hear the end of getting stood up on Valentine's Day.
"Mr. McDonald, here's your receipt."
He took the leather folder from the waitress and scribbled his name on the appropriate line. He was about to leave when a delicate hand touched his shoulder. He looked up, expecting to see a penitent, unpunctual, brunette bombshell. Instead, he saw a blonde haired, curvaceous waitress.
"I know this is a little forward, Mr. McDonald, but you seemed so lonely..." She smiled. "I get off in ten minutes. My apartment is just around the corner..." Her voice trailed off, rife with promise.
Lindsey thought about it for a second and then grinned at the girl. Might as well not let the night go to waste. "Sure, I'll meet you there. And bring the wine with you."
The spring was back in his step as he exited the restaurant. When he got outside, he automatically scanned the area one last time for Cordelia. There weren't very many people around -- most of them were already inside with their dates. His eye fell on a brunette with a sexy figure, but she was draped all over a short guy with a fashion sense that made Lindsey shake his head in shame for the male species. With a shrug, Lindsey turned toward the parking lot, already planning for the evening ahead.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Doyle was still bemused by Cordelia's sudden spurt of gratitude when she ended the hug and hurried into the restaurant as quickly as her stiletto heels would take her. His skin still tingled from the touch of her arms around him. Yep, this was love. Thank God Cordelia had already passed her 18th birthday, from the legal standpoint anyway.
Then he pushed those thoughts away. It was no good thinking about that. Cordelia and her lawyer would probably hit it off tonight and embark on a steamy relationship, leaving Doyle adrift in the seas of heartache and chemistry.
"You're still here."
He looked up. Cordelia stood there, shivering in her impractical evening jacket, alone.
"What happened to yer guy?"
"Gone." She sighed. "I guess I couldn't expect him to wait this long. I... I was trying to play it cool. When I didn't show up, I guess he thought I really meant it when I pretended not to be excited about meeting him."
"I never understood games o' the heart," Doyle said as he shrugged out of his coat and slipped it around her shoulders again. "Why play it cool when all you really want to do is touch her an' tell her how beautiful she is in the moonlight?" His hand grazed hers as he let go of the jacket.
Cordelia shrugged. "I don't know. That's just the way it works."
"I think that's a silly way fer it to work, but, then, I donae pretend to be as sophisticated as ye."
They started walking back to her house -- taking the longer, safer route this time. Most of the long walk passed in silence. Doyle didn't know what Cordelia was thinking about, but he didn't want to intrude. He was also distracted by his own feelings. You'd think he would be happy that her date hadn't worked out. After all, if she wasn't dating someone, that meant there was still a chance, however slim, for something to develop between the princess and the professor. But, instead, Doyle found himself wishing it had worked out for her. He wanted her to be happy more than anything else. And if he could find that lawyer, Doyle knew he would punch the guy's lights out for not waiting just a little longer for his date.
When they got back to her house, Cordelia said, "You don't have to call the tow truck. I'll do it. My insurance can afford it more, anyway. I'll say it was a hit-and-run."
"Ye don' have to..."
She stopped his protest. "I want to."
"Well, thank ye very much." Doyle stood there for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels. Silence had suddenly gone from comfortable to awkward. He didn't know what to say now, and that was a first since he was a talker.
Suddenly, Cordelia leaned in and kissed Doyle on the cheek. "I just want you to know, this wasn't the *worst* night of my whole, entire life." She paused, and then turned toward her house. "Good night, Doyle."
"G'night, lass!"
Doyle watched until Cordelia had let herself in the front door. Then he turned and started the long walk back to his garage apartment with a grin on his face. Valentine's Day hadn't turned out so badly after all!
----------------
Well, that's it. The end of our relationship-oriented series of shorts, Destiny Found.
Next Up: In the Space of a Lifetime...
Series: Destiny Found, part 10
Affiliated Series: Destiny Lost
Authors: Sonya and Erin
E-mail: sonyajeb@swbell.net OR carynsilver@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Category: C/D, AU, relationship oriented
*Disclaimers and Timeline Info in Part 1!!!!*
--------------------------
"Hello, Lindsey. And how are you adjusting to life in our happy little town?"
Lindsey McDonald looked up from the paperwork he'd been attending to. His new job as Mayor Wilkens's lawyer/assistant paid well (well enough, and with enough perks that he'd given up the job at Wolfram & Hart to come to Sunnydale), but there was plenty of work to do to earn that money. Lindsey had only been in town for a week, and already his desk was overflowing with paperwork.
"Just fine, Mayor," Lindsey answered.
"You're doing a fine job, here," the Mayor said, giving Lindsey a wide smile. "A fine job. But something saddens me."
"And what would that be?" Lindsey asked. "I got the mess with the priests settled just this morning..."
The Mayor waved Lindsey silent. "Let's not talk about that any more. It's not fitting for such an occasion as this."
"Occasion?" Lindsey replied, mystified.
"Valentine's Day." The Mayor's smile widened even further. "Don't let work keep you from whatever plans you might have."
"Well, I haven't been in town long enough to have plans."
The Mayor's face fell. "Well, we can't have that, can we? You can't be alone on Valentine's Day." He thought for a minute. "I know. My neighbor has a nice daughter. Very pretty, and the loveliest personality. And I'll reserve a table for you at the best restaurant in town."
Going on a blind date with your boss's friend was never a good idea. Quickly, Lindsey said, "Actually, Mayor, there is one girl I've met in Sunnydale. Perhaps I should give her a call."
"That sounds splendid." The Mayor didn't seem too disappointed that he couldn't fix up his newest employee. He handed Lindsey a small, white card. "Give this to the matradee at La Petite Cafe, and your meals will be on the house. Not to mention, you'll have the best table in the place. We've got quite the business coming up on Monday. I'll really need you in top form. A fun holiday evening will be just the thing."
"Thank you," Lindsey said.
When the Mayor left his office, Lindsey pulled out his rolodex. "All right... where did I put her number..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cordelia Chase had given up hope of a decent Valentine's Day days ago. For some reason, there just wasn't anyone around who interested her. Not that she hadn't been asked out for the evening. She'd actually garnered invitations for a romantic dinner for two (with a sophomore, of all things... like she, a senior, would actually be seen with him, even if he was a cutie), a double date in LA, complete with limo and obligatory roses and chocolates (with Harmony's cousin in from out of town, Cordelia knew she could do better, and had told Harmony so), and even to the Valentine's Day shindig at the Cellar (the guy was popular, and rich, but so dull... after Percy, Cordelia wouldn't make that mistake again). However, none of the invitations had met her high standards. The guy list at S.H.S. had fallen off this year. Maybe it was part of being a senior -- there weren't any older, sophisticated men to chose from. Only the malcontents in her own grade.
Now, her Valentine's Day plans consisted of rattling around her parent's house, alone. Her father was off on another business trip. China, this time. And her mother. Well, that didn't really bear thinking about, though it hadn't escaped Cordelia's attention that the new house boy was suspiciously gone as well. The cute, gold-digging houseboy. Cordelia had spurned his fake attentions, but apparently her mother had not.
"Well, the perks of being alone on Valentine's Day include me not having to get all dolled up," Cordelia told her reflection in her vanity mirror with false bravado. At school today, she'd pretended that she had huge plans with someone really great tonight. Private plans, she'd said. Harmony and the girls had believed her, of course. How could they do otherwise?
The door bell rang, echoing throughout the large house. A few minutes later, the intercom in her room buzzed.
"Miss Chase?"
"Yes, Matilda?" Cordelia called.
"Some girls are here to see you."
"Show them up, and then you can go home early. Enjoy your holiday." Cordelia knew Matilda had a boyfriend, and suddenly decided that at least her maid should enjoy the evening.
"Thank you, Miss."
As she uttered the words, Cordelia sprang up from her seat and began pulling outfits out of her walk in closet. When Harmony and whoever else came up here to see if she was telling the truth, they would find her knee-deep in preparation for her "date."
"Hi!"
Cordelia dropped her black leather miniskirt at the sound of the unexpected voice. She turned to see Amy Madison and Buffy Summers standing in her doorway. "What are you guys doing here?"
They came in, and Amy said, "Well, we thought we'd see if you wanted to join our Anti-Valentine's Day party."
Buffy nodded. "We're watching movies and eating lots of junk food at my place. My mom's joining us, too. And maybe Jenny Calendar."
"Sonya is, of course, going on a stomach-churningly romantic date with Oz," Amy said, flopping down on Cordelia's canopied bed.
"And Faith is taking the early patrol tonight," Buffy added. "I'm on the late shift."
"Didn't you hear that I have a hot date?" Cordelia asked, having a sudden panic attack, though she didn't let it show on her face. Had she been so transparent? If Harmony and the others had guessed, she would never live it down. Cordelia began contemplating a move to some little rural town where no one from California would know her. Someplace like Roswell, New Mexico, where she could hide her humiliation among hicks and alien fanatics.
"Come on, Cordelia," Amy said. "We know you better than that."
"You may be able to fool the other members of the Brat Pack, but not us," Buffy added. "We know what you're like when you're excited about a guy. That day at the mall stands out in my mind."
Cordelia actually smiled. Imagine, girls who knew her, actually knew her. The idea was made her feel both pleased and frighteningly vulnerable at the same time.
Just then her private line rang, interrupting the conversation. Cordelia pasted a smile on her face that would carry over phone wires and picked up the white and gold antique telephone receiver from her bedside table. "Hello?"
"Hi, Cordelia."
For just a second, Cordelia was at a loss. Then, she recognized the voice, and felt her heart speed up. But she had to keep it casual. "I thought you lost my number. It's been months."
"I was in L.A., sifting through the job offers. I just moved to Sunnydale, actually."
"Really, that's great." She kept her voice calm, but began bouncing up and down just a little to release her excess energy.
Buffy and Amy looked at Cordelia in surprise as they waited to find out who the person was making Cordelia so excited.
"Anyway," Lindsey said, "I was calling to ask you out. For tonight."
Cordelia twisted the phone cord around her finger. "I don't know. That's pretty short notice, and I did have some other plans in mind..." Not a complete lie, but she hoped he assumed it was another guy instead of a bunch of girls, pizza and a VCR.
"I've got a premium table at La Petite Cafe. I promise you'll have a great time. We can even go dancing afterwards. I've heard about this great little club over in Calvin."
"That does sound tempting," Cordelia allowed, not wanting to seem too eager.
"How about this," Lindsey suggested. "You meet me at the restaurant at seven, and if we don't have fun you can leave at any point and drive yourself home."
"You talked me into it," Cordelia agreed. "I'll see you there at seven."
"Great."
"You know," Cordelia told him honestly, "I'm really glad you called me."
"Me, too," Lindsey replied. His voice was warm and raised goosebumps on the back of her neck. "See you later."
Cordelia hung up her phone, and immediately Buffy and Amy began the third degree.
"All right, Missy!" Amy said. "Who was that, and why are you so excited you let your usual cool exterior drop for so long?"
"I think it must be the guy of her dreams," Buffy guessed.
"It was Lindsey," Cordelia told them, brimming with excitement. "The cute lawyer from the mall."
"Riley's friend?" Amy asked, catching a gleam of excitement herself. "He didn't want to double with Riley, did he? I kept hoping that guy would call me, but he didn't..."
"Sorry," Cordelia answered, though she wasn't really that sorry. After all, Amy had Rio, even if she didn't know it. Cordelia had a sense about these things. "But Lindsey just moved to Sunnydale, and he wants us to go out tonight. He's got a table at the best, and most expensive, restaurant in town." Cordelia sank down in an over-stuffed, white chair next to her bed. "Lindsey is so great. He's mature, and he's a career man. He dresses well, and has plenty of money. And, to top it all off, he's both attractive *and* interesting. Something all the boys at our school lack in the extreme!"
Buffy smiled. "I'm glad for you, Cordelia. Really glad. You're going to have a great time."
"I know!" Amy cried. "How about we help you pick out your outfit?"
Cordelia had a momentary flashback of the day she'd run into them at the mall and the awful way the two blondes had wanted to dress Sonya, a fellow brunette. "Umm... how about you help me decide between a couple of outfits I already have in mind?"
"Sure," Amy agreed easily.
It took awhile, but eventually Cordelia was ready for her date. And not a moment too soon. Her wall clock read 6:30, and she had to drive to the restaurant, park and get there in time for a last minute makeup check in the ladies room.
"You look killer," Amy said, as Cordelia gave a last twirl in front of the mirror. Buffy nodded, and Cordelia had to agree as well. She'd gone for the older woman look since her date was with an older man. Her hair was up in a French twist, baring her shapely neck, and she'd gone for sophisticated makeup shades instead of some of the bright eyeliners and lipsticks she normally favored. She wore a form-fitting black sheath dress that ended just above her knees. She found black hose and shiny, black, high-heeled pumps that made her legs seem much longer. She put a gauzy, black evening jacket on over the sleeveless dress, and added a string of pearls around her neck.
"Very sophisticated, too," Buffy added. She stood up. "I guess we should get out of your hair."
"Yeah, the other gals are waiting," Amy agreed.
As the girls were leaving, Cordelia called, "Hey, um, thanks for coming over, and for inviting me to the movie night."
"No problem," Buffy replied.
"Yeah, there's always next time," Amy added.
Cordelia watched them leave, and then picked up her small, black evening purse. She threw in a tube of lipstick, her drivers' license, keys, and some money, just in case. Then she was ready to go.
"All right, Miss Chase," she told her reflection as she stood poised at the door to her room. "Get ready for a night you will never forget!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Valentine's Day sucks."
Doyle groaned repeatedly as he pulled his car out of the Summers' driveway.
"Women's night, me arse. They could have bloody well let me come. I'm just as dateless as they are."
He sighed. Living in Joyce Summers' garage apartment was normally a good deal. Free food and friendly companions almost any time he needed them. Except on the most depressing night for a single, half-demon, red-blooded male. Valentine's Day. Of course, Doyle could have stayed in his small living space, but the walls had started to close in on him. Visions of past Valentine's Days (memories... not the painful PTB visions) kept flashing through his mind. Visions of his time with Harry, and how he would probably never find another relationship like that in his life. It didn't help that Harry had recently sent him a message -- divorce papers. Now they were really free of each other. She'd wanted him to meet her new guy, her new fiancée. But Doyle had flatly refused, and Harry hadn't pushed the issue.
Heaving a deep sigh, Doyle puttered around in his car, trying to decide where to go. He couldn't go out to a restaurant. He wouldn't be able to eat with all the sappy lovers around. Doyle ended up driving aimlessly. Suddenly, he found himself on a familiar stretch of road. He was cruising through the wealthy section of town, past mansions and estates. A familiar mansion was on the next block. The Chase mansion.
"Maybe I'll stop by and see 'Delia," Doyle mumbled. "Despite that grand show she put on last night, I know she don' have a date... We can commiserate..." He was Cordelia's chemistry tutor, and he and the fiery brunette had spent a lot of time together in the past few weeks. Of course, all she did was bicker with him, but, somehow, Doyle found it fun to push her buttons.
Crash!
Doyle's head whipped back, banging painfully against the headrest of his old car. He looked up and saw that he'd hit someone coming out of a driveway.
"Teach me ta be woolgatherin' while I'm drivin'." Doyle shook his head, and got out of the car. Luckily, his pile of junk didn't seem to be too damaged. The sports car, on the other hand, had completely crumpled over the rear, passenger-side tire. It wasn't pretty. Suddenly, Doyle's heart caught in his throat. He recognized that car. He'd ridden in that car. His eyes flashed to the driveway out of which the car had barreled. The Chase driveway.
The door of the sports car opened, and a pair of endless legs capped by stiletto heels popped out. The heels clicked angrily when they touched the asphalt. The legs were followed by a ton of curves smoothed into a basic, black dress. But what halted Doyle in his tracks were the eyes... brown, beautiful, and more angry than he'd ever seen them.
"Allen Francis Doyle... what the hell are you doing?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"'Delia. I'm so sorry. I didnae mean ta... I don' know what..." His words trailed off to mumbled swearing and self-flagellation.
Cordelia glared down at him from her heel-enhanced height. "You'd better have insurance, Mister, or I'll have to have my Daddy get your visa revoked."
"I'll pay fer all the damages." His throat muscles flexed nervously, as both their minds flashed to the fact that her car cost more than he made in a year as an elementary school teacher. "Somehow."
"Great, just great." Cordelia reached back into her car and pulled out her handbag. "I get asked out on the most important date of my whole, entire life, and *you* run me down in your piece of crap car. And it's not like it even matters to you. Your car looks better with dents in it!"
"Should we call a tow truck?" Doyle asked.
Cordelia checked her slim, gold watch. It was after six thirty. If she had to wait for a tow truck, she'd never make it to the restaurant in time. "Push it."
Doyle raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, lass?"
"You heard me." Cordelia placed a French-manicured hand on a black-clad hip. "Push it. Up into the driveway so no one will hit it. Then you can give me a ride to the restaurant where I'm meeting my date. And *then* you can come back here and call the tow truck."
Doyle sighed. "Aye, lass."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After several minutes of back-breaking labor, Doyle managed to heave the car a few feet forward. Cordelia seemed satisfied and hopped into the front seat of his car before he could even think of opening the door for her. She gingerly settled herself on his aged interior, pulled a compact out of her tiny purse and started touching up her makeup.
A few minutes later, he'd made a U-turn and had started driving back toward downtown.
"So," Doyle asked, breaking the silence, "who's this date yer so worked up over?"
The compact snapped closed. "No one you know."
"Yer not going out with the sophomore, are ye?"
One look from her told him what she thought of that option.
"Then who is he?" Somehow, Doyle just had to know.
"If you must know," Cordelia said airily, "his name is Lindsey. He's a lawyer, rich and very cute. I met him at the mall."
Doyle stared at the road in front of them. A rich, young, hot shot lawyer. Sounded perfect for Cordelia, or at least it was supposed to. Sometimes it was hard to imagine the girl he tutored, the girl who either laughed at his jokes or rolled her eyes at them so endearingly, the girl who called him professor when she wanted to get his goat, the girl Cordelia became when she didn't have anyone around to impress (Doyle knew he wasn't up there on her Must Impress list, and he was OK with that)... sometimes it was hard to imagine that Cordelia with someone... shallow.
"Sounds great," Doyle finally said. Then he shook himself out of this moody attitude and found a grin. "Does the bloke happen to have a sister? Or maybe a cousin? I donae pretend to be picky..."
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Even if he did have a sister... or a cousin, it would be way too late. Besides, he's new in town. I think he lives alone."
Doyle shrugged. "Too bad fer me."
A frown wrinkled her face for a moment. "So... what are you going to do tonight?"
"I suppose I'll be spendin' the night o' lovers waitin' fer a tow-truck. After I drop ye off fer yer date, o' course."
"You know, Doyle, if you have other plans... you could get the car towed in the morning. My parents won't be back for a couple of days. No one will notice it."
He shot her a smile. "I didnae know ye cared about me social life, princess."
She shot him a glare. "I don't. I was just being nice. And if you call me princess again, professor, I'll... I'll..."
Cordelia never got to vocalize what would probably have been a horrible threat that would have made Doyle cower for his life. Suddenly, his car shuddered and made a horrible groaning noise. The steering wheel began to shake. Doyle grabbed it with both hands and willed it to stop. [Not now, damn it!] But his will wasn't strong enough. The ancient car (he'd bought it for a couple of hundred bucks, what could he expect?) ground to a noisy and painful stop by the side of the road. Steam flowed through the cracks of the hood and into the clear night sky.
"I guess this means we're walkin'?" Doyle was almost afraid to look at her, with good reason.
Cordelia's mouth worked, but she couldn't think of anything to say. Then the perfect phrase came to mind. "This is the worst night of my whole, entire life... thanks to you!"
Her teeth ground together angrily as she got out of the car and began walking toward downtown. Luckily, it was less than half a mile now. Though that half of a mile was through the heart of Sunnydale in the dark of night. Doyle grabbed his leather jacket from the back seat and hurried after her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cordelia walked in silence. She could hear the click of her heels on the asphalt and the hurried thump of Doyle's feet as he strained to catch up. She said nothing when he materialized by her side. Her breath fogged in the mid-February air. It doesn't get as cold in California as in many placed in the country, but it was cold enough that her gauzy evening jacket wasn't doing a very good job of protecting her naked arms from the cold.
"Here."
She felt the comforting weight of leather over her shoulders, and threw Doyle a side-long glance. If it were summer, and daylight, she would drop the jacket on the ground and walk away while he tried to pick it up. However, it wasn't summer, and she was cold. It was also night, and Cordelia was practical enough to realize that if she planned to make this date, she might need Doyle as escort. Perhaps the big bads would leave her alone if she had a demon escort. Half demon. Whatever. She didn't say thank you for the jacket, but she slid her arms into its warm folds.
"Yer welcome." Doyle gazed at her as they walked. Him in his shirt sleeves, his ridiculous Hawaiian shirt flapping in the winter breeze. Orange was all wrong for him, color-wise, but Cordelia wasn't in the mood to talk about fashion, especially to someone so fashionably challenged.
"Do you want it back?" she asked bluntly.
Doyle shook his head.
Cordelia hugged the leather do her, feeling its weight against the silky material of her dress.
"Look, I'm sorry, but the car breakin' down... that's not me fault. I'm doin' the best I can here."
Finally, Cordelia relented. "I know, Doyle. But, it's just... this is the first date I've had with a guy I'm really interested in for a long time. All the guys at school, well, I have more fun in our tutoring sessions, if you can believe that. But Lindsey... he's... he could be something great... maybe." She shook her head. "Pretty stupid, huh? Like there's any such thing as true love any more."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lindsey checked his watch yet again. Nope. It was still working. Cordelia was just late. Really late. Normally, Lindsey wouldn't wait this long for any chick, but Cordelia... well, she had potential. He didn't want to believe that she would stand him up.
A smile curved his lips as he anticipated what the evening might have in store. If she ever showed up.
The waitress circled by his table for the fifth time in as many minutes.
"Have there been any calls for me?" he asked.
She shook her head, blonde hair waving with the motion. "No, Mr. McDonald. Not that I know of."
"Would you check?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
Lindsey watched her leave, absently noticing the attractive sway of her hips. Then his eyes went back down to his watch. She was just running late, right? Of course, that was it. Really.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"... Like there's any such thing as true love any more." For a brief second, it looked like Cordelia's eyes were about to tear up. Either that was a trick of the light, or she willed the tears away. Whichever was true, she put her brave face on again, just like she did every time she got hurt or blindsided. Spending so much time together doing Scooby Gang stuff and tutoring, Doyle had seen it before.
That's when Doyle knew it. He knew exactly what the funny feeling was he got in his stomach when she walked in the room. He knew why he loved to get her goat so much. He knew why he kept tutoring her in chemistry, even though he had to study ahead of time to be ready for her. He knew why the thought of her going out with some hotshot, rich, smooth lawyer on tonight of all nights was driving him slowly insane. How could he not have realized this before? It hadn't been like this with Harry. With Harry it had felt completely different. But this was it. Doyle was completely and totally in love with Cordelia... and there wasn't anything he could do about it.
He was silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally, he knew there was only one thing he could do. "I'll get you there in time."
Her eyes opened wide. "How?"
"I know a short cut."
She glanced at her watch. "I'm already late. This would have to be one hell of a short cut."
"Trust me." He held out a hand to her.
She didn't hesitate, but grabbed his hand. Doyle turned off the road, plunging through an alley. It wasn't smart to take allies alone at night in Sunnydale, but Doyle meant business. Maybe any lurky creatures in the back-alley route he chose sensed that and decided to hold off for easier prey. Riled up, a half demon could be pretty tough stuff. Or maybe they were just lucky enough to pick the alleys that were empty for the night. Either way, it didn't matter. They reached the center of down in half the time it would have taken them via legitimate roads and sidewalks.
Cordelia saw the restaurant where she was to meet Lindsey gleaming in the distance. She could hear the music of a string quartet through the open doors, beckoning her. She checked her watch. She was very, very late, but maybe he was still there. Without the short cut, there would have been no chance.
"Go, lass," Doyle urged. "Yer man's waitin'."
She was halfway to the restaurant, when she suddenly turned and walked back toward Doyle. He looked up in surprise. She handed him back his jacket and smiled at him. An actual real smile. "Thanks, Doyle. For getting me here. It was a great short cut. Of course, I wouldn't have needed it if you hadn't..." She paused, and stopped that train of thought. "Just... thanks." She leaned in and gave him a hug.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lindsey paid the tab for the undrunk bottle of wine with a scowl on his handsome face. He'd been stood up! This was a first. What was he going to tell the Mayor? Of course the Mayor would find out about it, the man had set up the reservations for Pete's sake, and he had eyes and ears everywhere in this town. Another thought struck him. What the hell would he tell Riley? His long-time friend would never let him hear the end of getting stood up on Valentine's Day.
"Mr. McDonald, here's your receipt."
He took the leather folder from the waitress and scribbled his name on the appropriate line. He was about to leave when a delicate hand touched his shoulder. He looked up, expecting to see a penitent, unpunctual, brunette bombshell. Instead, he saw a blonde haired, curvaceous waitress.
"I know this is a little forward, Mr. McDonald, but you seemed so lonely..." She smiled. "I get off in ten minutes. My apartment is just around the corner..." Her voice trailed off, rife with promise.
Lindsey thought about it for a second and then grinned at the girl. Might as well not let the night go to waste. "Sure, I'll meet you there. And bring the wine with you."
The spring was back in his step as he exited the restaurant. When he got outside, he automatically scanned the area one last time for Cordelia. There weren't very many people around -- most of them were already inside with their dates. His eye fell on a brunette with a sexy figure, but she was draped all over a short guy with a fashion sense that made Lindsey shake his head in shame for the male species. With a shrug, Lindsey turned toward the parking lot, already planning for the evening ahead.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Doyle was still bemused by Cordelia's sudden spurt of gratitude when she ended the hug and hurried into the restaurant as quickly as her stiletto heels would take her. His skin still tingled from the touch of her arms around him. Yep, this was love. Thank God Cordelia had already passed her 18th birthday, from the legal standpoint anyway.
Then he pushed those thoughts away. It was no good thinking about that. Cordelia and her lawyer would probably hit it off tonight and embark on a steamy relationship, leaving Doyle adrift in the seas of heartache and chemistry.
"You're still here."
He looked up. Cordelia stood there, shivering in her impractical evening jacket, alone.
"What happened to yer guy?"
"Gone." She sighed. "I guess I couldn't expect him to wait this long. I... I was trying to play it cool. When I didn't show up, I guess he thought I really meant it when I pretended not to be excited about meeting him."
"I never understood games o' the heart," Doyle said as he shrugged out of his coat and slipped it around her shoulders again. "Why play it cool when all you really want to do is touch her an' tell her how beautiful she is in the moonlight?" His hand grazed hers as he let go of the jacket.
Cordelia shrugged. "I don't know. That's just the way it works."
"I think that's a silly way fer it to work, but, then, I donae pretend to be as sophisticated as ye."
They started walking back to her house -- taking the longer, safer route this time. Most of the long walk passed in silence. Doyle didn't know what Cordelia was thinking about, but he didn't want to intrude. He was also distracted by his own feelings. You'd think he would be happy that her date hadn't worked out. After all, if she wasn't dating someone, that meant there was still a chance, however slim, for something to develop between the princess and the professor. But, instead, Doyle found himself wishing it had worked out for her. He wanted her to be happy more than anything else. And if he could find that lawyer, Doyle knew he would punch the guy's lights out for not waiting just a little longer for his date.
When they got back to her house, Cordelia said, "You don't have to call the tow truck. I'll do it. My insurance can afford it more, anyway. I'll say it was a hit-and-run."
"Ye don' have to..."
She stopped his protest. "I want to."
"Well, thank ye very much." Doyle stood there for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels. Silence had suddenly gone from comfortable to awkward. He didn't know what to say now, and that was a first since he was a talker.
Suddenly, Cordelia leaned in and kissed Doyle on the cheek. "I just want you to know, this wasn't the *worst* night of my whole, entire life." She paused, and then turned toward her house. "Good night, Doyle."
"G'night, lass!"
Doyle watched until Cordelia had let herself in the front door. Then he turned and started the long walk back to his garage apartment with a grin on his face. Valentine's Day hadn't turned out so badly after all!
----------------
Well, that's it. The end of our relationship-oriented series of shorts, Destiny Found.
Next Up: In the Space of a Lifetime...