***
Just one thing I wanted to mention now that everyone's read part one...Doyle's accent is a bitch to write, and probably not very authentic...just look past any errors and whatnot!
Thank you to those of you who sent feedback on Part 1.
Enjoy,
~Isis
***
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Part 2
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Doyle nodded and entered the apartment. He walked into the living room with the two female inhabitants trailing behind at a safe distance, whispering softly to each other. The appearance of the living room made him frown. It was Spartan to say the least. Along one wall sat an undersized, two person couch, with a worn coffee table in front of it. To the right of the couch resided a dark blue bean bag chair, and then along the opposite wall a small tv was placed on the floor. That was it. There were no personal touches, no knick-knacks or other such things that you would find to make a place homey. He couldn't help but sigh in frustration. This was not the way things were supposed to be.
"Thanks fer lettin' me in," he spoke, turning to face Buffy. He thought for a minute before continuing, not knowing how the Slayer would take what he had to tell her. "I was sent 'ere ta talk to yer."
"Sent here?" Buffy's brow furrowed. "By who?"
"The Powers That Be," he answered simply.
"Huh?" grunted Cordy in a very unladylike manner.
"The Powers...well, I guess yer could say that they are the bein's of good who have a hand in what 'appens in the universe. I'm one of their messengers," he furthered, pacing to one side of the room.
"Oh," Buffy answered softly, growing worried over what some higher powers wanted to tell her. "And they have a message for me?"
"Sort of," he replied with a shrug. "They sent a message, and well...me."
"I repeat, huh?" Cordy eyed him in confusion.
Doyle sighed loudly and took a seat on the couch. "The Powers know of yer...condition," he glanced at Buffy's slightly expanded abdomen. "They are worried that yer at risk because ya can't defend yourself as well. Yer important to them in the fight against evil and they don't wan' ta lose ya because of a demon attack while yer pregnant."
Buffy was speechless at the revelation. She hadn't quite thought about her safety outside of slaying, which she'd stopped doing as soon as she found out she was pregnant. Now, she was suddenly worried about her baby even making it to its birth.
"Oh," Buffy mumbled almost inaudibly, flopping herself down onto the bean bag chair. "I...they think something is going to happen to me and my baby?"
"No...they don't know of anything specific, but they don't want ta take any chances," he clarified, leaning back on the couch. He could tell the poor girl was obviously shaken by his news and in a state of shock.
"Wait....so these Powers, or whatever, just don't want to lose their Slayer?" Cordy stated with a look toward Buffy. "I would think her child would be more important."
"No, well, sort of. They don't want ta lose one of their best warriors, but they also don't want ta see the child harmed," he stated as genuinely as possible given that there were certain things his bosses had forbade him from saying, and he intended on obeying them. He had no desire whatsoever to piss off the Powers.
"And why exactly should we believe you anyway. For wall we know, you could be some assassin or whatever sent here to kill her. Or worse...ME!" Cordy nearly shouted the last part, inching a little farther away from the sketchy guy.
"I can't prove ta yer that I'm not lying. You'll just have to believe me." If he had proof, he would gladly show them, but all he had was his word, and Doyle just hoped the took it.
Both Cordy and Doyle turned their gazes back to Buffy who had been silent for a few minutes. Slowly, she raised her eyes to look at them. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she spoke, "I don't want anything to happen to my baby."
The very thought that she could lose her child, her and Angel's child, was absolutely terrifying. It had only been two months since she discovered she was pregnant, but in that time she had grown to love her child dearly. And it was one of the very few tangible things she had left of her Angel. She didn't know if she could go on if she lost the child they had created together.
"Now don't worry, lass. I'm going ta make sure nothing 'appens to ya, or yer little one," Doyle told her sympathetically. He honestly couldn't even begin to image what the young girl was going through.
He was well aware of the Slayer's history. He knew about her Calling, the death of her first Watcher, her parents' divorce, the move to the Hellmouth, and also everything that had occurred there. For someone so young, she had been through more than any single person should have to. He really didn't know how she handled it all and kept going. It was just a testament to her inner strength, he supposed.
Cordy stared at Doyle after his announcement and then burst out laughing. "You? You're going to protect her?"
"Yer forget, princess, that I am part demon," he smirked at the chucking female.
"So? What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned, trying to hold back the giggles that arose from the thought of the short man in front of her protecting Buffy.
"The demon side of me makes me stronger when need be," Doyle went on to explain. He didn't always like acknowledging his non-human status, but in this case it was necessary.
"S-so you're, uh, job is going to be staying around and looking after me?" Buffy interrupted the strange bickering between the two people who had never met before.
Her voice was tired and wavering as she spoke. Most times she could keep up a strong front, but others it was just too hard. This was one of those times. Endless thoughts were circling through her head, and all of them centered on the infinite things that could happen to her baby.
"Yup, I'm yer humble servant," he grinned and bowed, hoping to lighten the mood, but the gesture was lost on the preoccupied Slayer.
"Oh, that's, uh, that's good," mumbled Buffy in response. Her mind was reeling over the fact that she had forgotten the threat to her child from the supernatural world even if she wasn't slaying anymore.
"Wait!" Cordy nearly shouted. "How's this supposed to work? You're not moving in here because, well, A. I'm still not sure you're not and axe murderer, and B. this space barely fits the two of us."
"I don't know how it'll all work, princess, but we can figure that out la-," Doyle abruptly stopped speaking when he noticed Cordelia staring at him, frowning slightly. "Uh, do I 'ave something on my face?"
"No...I just...," she trailed off. "I just realized that you look familiar for some reason."
The statement caused the half demon to fidget immediately, which in turn made both girls suspicious. Buffy quickly wiped away the tears blurring her eyes and stood up from the bean bag chair, taking a defensive posture toward the guilty looking man. Her eyes shifted to Cordelia, trying to figure out what the brunette was thinking, but her friend's gaze was entirely focused on Doyle.
"Cordy?' Buffy asked hesitantly.
"I know I've seen him somewhere before," she muttered mostly to herself.
"Now princess," Doyle interrupted, growing worried over the brunette woman's sudden realization and how it may affect his alive state of being.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" she snapped at him.
The half demon ignored her angry question, and shook his head slightly before explaining the little detail he hadn't mentioned before. "I was in Sunnydale...two months ago to be exact."
Cordelia thought about his words for a moment and then loudly exclaimed, "Oh!"
"Yeah, that was me," he answered with a nod at Cordy's sudden understanding.
"Uh...someone wanna fill me in here?" requested Buffy, relaxing her stance somewhat, but giving the other two people in the room with her strange looks.
"Huh? Oh, sorry!" Cordy shook herself out of her daze. "Umm, do you remember that day...the one where you came to the hotel?"
"Yeah," Buffy spoke sadly, not particularly wanting to remember one of the worst days in her life.
"Well, you just up and passed out in the parking lot. I was trying to figure out what to do with you when this guy came along and asked if I needed help. He ended up carrying you into my room," Cordy relayed, staring at Doyle with mild curiosity and slight unease.
Buffy turned to Doyle, "That was you?"
"Yes," he answered with an affirmative shake of his head.
"Why?" the blonde Slayer questioned. "I mean, what were you doing in Sunnydale then?"
"The Powers...they, uh, knew of yer situation even before ya did. They told me I was ta go ta ya and help out in any way I could, but that I wasn't ta reveal myself until you were aware of the babe," he told the two friends. "I'd been watching yer from a distance. That day...I was on my way to yer house to speak with ya when I saw ya leave. I followed yer and saw what happened, so I offered my help."
"Oh, uh, well, thanks," mumbled Buffy, her head was beginning to pound a bit over everything the half demon had told her over the last half hour.
"Yer welcome," he smiled at her sincerely. He couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor girl. He was sure he wouldn't be handling things as well as she was if he were in her situation.
"If you guys don't mind, I'm, uh, I'm going to go to bed," Buffy spoke wearily, suddenly feeling a need to be by herself. The walls were starting to feel like they were closing in on her.
"Sure. I'll come back tomorrow night, and we can figure things out then," Doyle responded and then pulled a paper out of his pocket. "If ya need me, this is the address and phone number of the hotel I'm stayin' at."
Cordy took the paper from Doyle and watched as he quietly strolled out of the apartment. She sighed loudly and shook her head once he was gone. Nothing was ever simple. She knew what the half-demon had told them had upset Buffy. In the two months since they'd left Sunnydale, one thing was painfully obvious to the brunette: Buffy loved her child dearly and would do anything for it. She couldn't imagine what would happen to her friend if something where to happen to the baby, the baby she'd created with Angel.
Turning around with the full expectation that she would need to comfort her Buffy, something that was still a hard thing for the former cheerleader, Cordelia found herself alone in the living room. The door to Buffy's room was closed, and she knew without a doubt that the Slayer was likely inside, lying in bed crying. More than a few times since their arrival in Seattle, she had heard the quiet sobs of her friend through the thin walls of the apartment. She never brought it up, though.
The past was something they didn't really talk about. Neither of them had yet to face their personal demons. They were only pushed aside. Out of sight, out of mind. It made life simpler, but it didn't stop the pain and the hurt. And right now Buffy was hurting. Everything Doyle had said had brought up reminders of the past, and the tenuous hold on the future. She just hoped that Buffy would be okay. Even though she hated to admit it, she was glad to have the other girl around.
As she turned off the single living room light, Cordy could hear the muffled sobs coming from Buffy's room. They were a bit louder tonight than they usually were, but she could understand why. The old her would have wasted no time in telling the blonde to shut up so she could get her beauty sleep. But that was the old her. Life had changed. She had changed. And she hoped that they would be able to make it through whatever was to come.
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As soon as the door to her room closed, the tears that Buffy had been valiantly holding back came bursting forth. Her body shook under the force of her silent sobs as she stumbled toward the small twin bed resting in the corner of her bedroom. Not even bothering to pull back the covers, Buffy crawled onto the sagging mattress, curling into a fetal position as her head tucked itself onto the pillow.
With Mr. Gordo, her trusty pink pig, clutched against her chest, she let herself cry for the hand that fate had dealt her. Only in the sanctuary of her room did she allow herself to be weak, to release all of the emotions she spent hours a day trying to conceal. In her room, where no one else could see her, she let herself mourn all that she'd lost, and all that she'd never had.
Even though he'd been gone for four months, she still missed Angel dearly. He was never far from her thoughts despite her best attempts not to remember him. How could she push him out of her mind when the child she carried within her body was partially his creation? Every time she looked in the mirror and saw the growing swell of her abdomen, every morning she ran to the bathroom to throw up the contents of her stomach, every bodily ache and ounce of retained water, and anything else associated with her pregnant form reminded her bluntly of the man she'd loved and lost.
Her heart still ached to be close to him, to feel his presence near her. She longed for the comfort his arms provided. Like she'd once told him, he was the one freaky thing in her freaky world that made sense. But he was gone now, leaving her to fend for herself under the guise of wanting her to have something better, something that wasn't him. She couldn't hold back the bitter laugh at that. Was this the better life he wanted for her?
Not likely. His ideal life for her probably didn't involve being abandoned by her friends and family, and being pregnant and alone except for the company of a girl who'd once been her pseudo-nemesis. No, that was probably not the better life he'd left her for.
She didn't want to be angry with him, but there was a part of her that was bitter over his actions. There was no denying that she missed him terribly, but there was also that side of her that was hurt and betrayed. He hadn't trusted her, hadn't believed in their love. How could she not be upset over that?
None of it mattered, though. Angel was gone. Her Mother was gone, as were her friends. Even though they'd treated her horribly she couldn't help but miss them. She longed for her Mother's disapproving glares, for Giles' nervous stutter, for Willow's incessant babbling, and even for Xander's lame jokes.
If she could go back and change everything, would she? No, she wouldn't. She'd do it all exactly the same if given the chance. She may have lost everything she'd ever known, but nothing would make her give up the cherished life she carried within her. Nothing. And she was damn sure that nothing was going to endanger her child. This baby was a miracle, her and Angel's miracle, and she was going to protect it at all costs even if that meant locking herself away in her room for the remainder of her pregnancy.
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TBC!!
Just one thing I wanted to mention now that everyone's read part one...Doyle's accent is a bitch to write, and probably not very authentic...just look past any errors and whatnot!
Thank you to those of you who sent feedback on Part 1.
Enjoy,
~Isis
***
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Part 2
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Doyle nodded and entered the apartment. He walked into the living room with the two female inhabitants trailing behind at a safe distance, whispering softly to each other. The appearance of the living room made him frown. It was Spartan to say the least. Along one wall sat an undersized, two person couch, with a worn coffee table in front of it. To the right of the couch resided a dark blue bean bag chair, and then along the opposite wall a small tv was placed on the floor. That was it. There were no personal touches, no knick-knacks or other such things that you would find to make a place homey. He couldn't help but sigh in frustration. This was not the way things were supposed to be.
"Thanks fer lettin' me in," he spoke, turning to face Buffy. He thought for a minute before continuing, not knowing how the Slayer would take what he had to tell her. "I was sent 'ere ta talk to yer."
"Sent here?" Buffy's brow furrowed. "By who?"
"The Powers That Be," he answered simply.
"Huh?" grunted Cordy in a very unladylike manner.
"The Powers...well, I guess yer could say that they are the bein's of good who have a hand in what 'appens in the universe. I'm one of their messengers," he furthered, pacing to one side of the room.
"Oh," Buffy answered softly, growing worried over what some higher powers wanted to tell her. "And they have a message for me?"
"Sort of," he replied with a shrug. "They sent a message, and well...me."
"I repeat, huh?" Cordy eyed him in confusion.
Doyle sighed loudly and took a seat on the couch. "The Powers know of yer...condition," he glanced at Buffy's slightly expanded abdomen. "They are worried that yer at risk because ya can't defend yourself as well. Yer important to them in the fight against evil and they don't wan' ta lose ya because of a demon attack while yer pregnant."
Buffy was speechless at the revelation. She hadn't quite thought about her safety outside of slaying, which she'd stopped doing as soon as she found out she was pregnant. Now, she was suddenly worried about her baby even making it to its birth.
"Oh," Buffy mumbled almost inaudibly, flopping herself down onto the bean bag chair. "I...they think something is going to happen to me and my baby?"
"No...they don't know of anything specific, but they don't want ta take any chances," he clarified, leaning back on the couch. He could tell the poor girl was obviously shaken by his news and in a state of shock.
"Wait....so these Powers, or whatever, just don't want to lose their Slayer?" Cordy stated with a look toward Buffy. "I would think her child would be more important."
"No, well, sort of. They don't want ta lose one of their best warriors, but they also don't want ta see the child harmed," he stated as genuinely as possible given that there were certain things his bosses had forbade him from saying, and he intended on obeying them. He had no desire whatsoever to piss off the Powers.
"And why exactly should we believe you anyway. For wall we know, you could be some assassin or whatever sent here to kill her. Or worse...ME!" Cordy nearly shouted the last part, inching a little farther away from the sketchy guy.
"I can't prove ta yer that I'm not lying. You'll just have to believe me." If he had proof, he would gladly show them, but all he had was his word, and Doyle just hoped the took it.
Both Cordy and Doyle turned their gazes back to Buffy who had been silent for a few minutes. Slowly, she raised her eyes to look at them. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she spoke, "I don't want anything to happen to my baby."
The very thought that she could lose her child, her and Angel's child, was absolutely terrifying. It had only been two months since she discovered she was pregnant, but in that time she had grown to love her child dearly. And it was one of the very few tangible things she had left of her Angel. She didn't know if she could go on if she lost the child they had created together.
"Now don't worry, lass. I'm going ta make sure nothing 'appens to ya, or yer little one," Doyle told her sympathetically. He honestly couldn't even begin to image what the young girl was going through.
He was well aware of the Slayer's history. He knew about her Calling, the death of her first Watcher, her parents' divorce, the move to the Hellmouth, and also everything that had occurred there. For someone so young, she had been through more than any single person should have to. He really didn't know how she handled it all and kept going. It was just a testament to her inner strength, he supposed.
Cordy stared at Doyle after his announcement and then burst out laughing. "You? You're going to protect her?"
"Yer forget, princess, that I am part demon," he smirked at the chucking female.
"So? What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned, trying to hold back the giggles that arose from the thought of the short man in front of her protecting Buffy.
"The demon side of me makes me stronger when need be," Doyle went on to explain. He didn't always like acknowledging his non-human status, but in this case it was necessary.
"S-so you're, uh, job is going to be staying around and looking after me?" Buffy interrupted the strange bickering between the two people who had never met before.
Her voice was tired and wavering as she spoke. Most times she could keep up a strong front, but others it was just too hard. This was one of those times. Endless thoughts were circling through her head, and all of them centered on the infinite things that could happen to her baby.
"Yup, I'm yer humble servant," he grinned and bowed, hoping to lighten the mood, but the gesture was lost on the preoccupied Slayer.
"Oh, that's, uh, that's good," mumbled Buffy in response. Her mind was reeling over the fact that she had forgotten the threat to her child from the supernatural world even if she wasn't slaying anymore.
"Wait!" Cordy nearly shouted. "How's this supposed to work? You're not moving in here because, well, A. I'm still not sure you're not and axe murderer, and B. this space barely fits the two of us."
"I don't know how it'll all work, princess, but we can figure that out la-," Doyle abruptly stopped speaking when he noticed Cordelia staring at him, frowning slightly. "Uh, do I 'ave something on my face?"
"No...I just...," she trailed off. "I just realized that you look familiar for some reason."
The statement caused the half demon to fidget immediately, which in turn made both girls suspicious. Buffy quickly wiped away the tears blurring her eyes and stood up from the bean bag chair, taking a defensive posture toward the guilty looking man. Her eyes shifted to Cordelia, trying to figure out what the brunette was thinking, but her friend's gaze was entirely focused on Doyle.
"Cordy?' Buffy asked hesitantly.
"I know I've seen him somewhere before," she muttered mostly to herself.
"Now princess," Doyle interrupted, growing worried over the brunette woman's sudden realization and how it may affect his alive state of being.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" she snapped at him.
The half demon ignored her angry question, and shook his head slightly before explaining the little detail he hadn't mentioned before. "I was in Sunnydale...two months ago to be exact."
Cordelia thought about his words for a moment and then loudly exclaimed, "Oh!"
"Yeah, that was me," he answered with a nod at Cordy's sudden understanding.
"Uh...someone wanna fill me in here?" requested Buffy, relaxing her stance somewhat, but giving the other two people in the room with her strange looks.
"Huh? Oh, sorry!" Cordy shook herself out of her daze. "Umm, do you remember that day...the one where you came to the hotel?"
"Yeah," Buffy spoke sadly, not particularly wanting to remember one of the worst days in her life.
"Well, you just up and passed out in the parking lot. I was trying to figure out what to do with you when this guy came along and asked if I needed help. He ended up carrying you into my room," Cordy relayed, staring at Doyle with mild curiosity and slight unease.
Buffy turned to Doyle, "That was you?"
"Yes," he answered with an affirmative shake of his head.
"Why?" the blonde Slayer questioned. "I mean, what were you doing in Sunnydale then?"
"The Powers...they, uh, knew of yer situation even before ya did. They told me I was ta go ta ya and help out in any way I could, but that I wasn't ta reveal myself until you were aware of the babe," he told the two friends. "I'd been watching yer from a distance. That day...I was on my way to yer house to speak with ya when I saw ya leave. I followed yer and saw what happened, so I offered my help."
"Oh, uh, well, thanks," mumbled Buffy, her head was beginning to pound a bit over everything the half demon had told her over the last half hour.
"Yer welcome," he smiled at her sincerely. He couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor girl. He was sure he wouldn't be handling things as well as she was if he were in her situation.
"If you guys don't mind, I'm, uh, I'm going to go to bed," Buffy spoke wearily, suddenly feeling a need to be by herself. The walls were starting to feel like they were closing in on her.
"Sure. I'll come back tomorrow night, and we can figure things out then," Doyle responded and then pulled a paper out of his pocket. "If ya need me, this is the address and phone number of the hotel I'm stayin' at."
Cordy took the paper from Doyle and watched as he quietly strolled out of the apartment. She sighed loudly and shook her head once he was gone. Nothing was ever simple. She knew what the half-demon had told them had upset Buffy. In the two months since they'd left Sunnydale, one thing was painfully obvious to the brunette: Buffy loved her child dearly and would do anything for it. She couldn't imagine what would happen to her friend if something where to happen to the baby, the baby she'd created with Angel.
Turning around with the full expectation that she would need to comfort her Buffy, something that was still a hard thing for the former cheerleader, Cordelia found herself alone in the living room. The door to Buffy's room was closed, and she knew without a doubt that the Slayer was likely inside, lying in bed crying. More than a few times since their arrival in Seattle, she had heard the quiet sobs of her friend through the thin walls of the apartment. She never brought it up, though.
The past was something they didn't really talk about. Neither of them had yet to face their personal demons. They were only pushed aside. Out of sight, out of mind. It made life simpler, but it didn't stop the pain and the hurt. And right now Buffy was hurting. Everything Doyle had said had brought up reminders of the past, and the tenuous hold on the future. She just hoped that Buffy would be okay. Even though she hated to admit it, she was glad to have the other girl around.
As she turned off the single living room light, Cordy could hear the muffled sobs coming from Buffy's room. They were a bit louder tonight than they usually were, but she could understand why. The old her would have wasted no time in telling the blonde to shut up so she could get her beauty sleep. But that was the old her. Life had changed. She had changed. And she hoped that they would be able to make it through whatever was to come.
^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^
As soon as the door to her room closed, the tears that Buffy had been valiantly holding back came bursting forth. Her body shook under the force of her silent sobs as she stumbled toward the small twin bed resting in the corner of her bedroom. Not even bothering to pull back the covers, Buffy crawled onto the sagging mattress, curling into a fetal position as her head tucked itself onto the pillow.
With Mr. Gordo, her trusty pink pig, clutched against her chest, she let herself cry for the hand that fate had dealt her. Only in the sanctuary of her room did she allow herself to be weak, to release all of the emotions she spent hours a day trying to conceal. In her room, where no one else could see her, she let herself mourn all that she'd lost, and all that she'd never had.
Even though he'd been gone for four months, she still missed Angel dearly. He was never far from her thoughts despite her best attempts not to remember him. How could she push him out of her mind when the child she carried within her body was partially his creation? Every time she looked in the mirror and saw the growing swell of her abdomen, every morning she ran to the bathroom to throw up the contents of her stomach, every bodily ache and ounce of retained water, and anything else associated with her pregnant form reminded her bluntly of the man she'd loved and lost.
Her heart still ached to be close to him, to feel his presence near her. She longed for the comfort his arms provided. Like she'd once told him, he was the one freaky thing in her freaky world that made sense. But he was gone now, leaving her to fend for herself under the guise of wanting her to have something better, something that wasn't him. She couldn't hold back the bitter laugh at that. Was this the better life he wanted for her?
Not likely. His ideal life for her probably didn't involve being abandoned by her friends and family, and being pregnant and alone except for the company of a girl who'd once been her pseudo-nemesis. No, that was probably not the better life he'd left her for.
She didn't want to be angry with him, but there was a part of her that was bitter over his actions. There was no denying that she missed him terribly, but there was also that side of her that was hurt and betrayed. He hadn't trusted her, hadn't believed in their love. How could she not be upset over that?
None of it mattered, though. Angel was gone. Her Mother was gone, as were her friends. Even though they'd treated her horribly she couldn't help but miss them. She longed for her Mother's disapproving glares, for Giles' nervous stutter, for Willow's incessant babbling, and even for Xander's lame jokes.
If she could go back and change everything, would she? No, she wouldn't. She'd do it all exactly the same if given the chance. She may have lost everything she'd ever known, but nothing would make her give up the cherished life she carried within her. Nothing. And she was damn sure that nothing was going to endanger her child. This baby was a miracle, her and Angel's miracle, and she was going to protect it at all costs even if that meant locking herself away in her room for the remainder of her pregnancy.
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TBC!!