Cordelia sighed and slumped down on her desk. "It's so hot in here. Why can't I open a blind?" She whined.
"It's noon." Said Angel without looking up from his book.
"So? It's not as if I'm going to melt or any…Oh. Got it."
Silence reigned once more in the stuffy office. Suddenly the outer door opened then slammed shut behind the newcomer. Cordelia looked up at the dark-haired man pacing the office.
"Finally." Cordy exclaimed. "Well, when does the AC man arrive?"
"He doesn't," Doyle replied angrily. "I stand in line for hours only to be told they can't possibly send a man around 'til next week." The Irish half-demon slumped down in a chair.
"Next week!" Cordy exclaimed. "That's a whole week away. How will I live? My make-up's already beginning to melt!"
"I told them that."
"Very un-funny Doyle."
Doyle gasped and his face twisted in pain. Pictures and words flashed across his eyes as he trembled in agony. Angel and Cordelia sprang into action. Standing next to Doyle, all they could do was wait until the vision stopped.
Doyle panted as his mind adjusted to the intense pain. Slowly, he opened his eyes and focused on the anxious pair in front of him. He grabbed the mug of scotch from Angel and tossed it down his throat. Ignoring the burning sensation in his oesophagus, he handed the cup back to Angel, took the bottle of scotch from him and began to gulp it down.
"Oh my God!" Cordelia stared, astounded, at Doyle.
Angel looked at her and raised his eyebrows. Cordelia glanced at him then stared back at Doyle who was chugging away at the bottle of scotch as if it was his salvation. When the scotch had gone. Doyle sighed and looked around. "We got any more?" He asked.
"God!" Cordy exclaimed. "I knew you liked your booze but this is ridiculous."
Doyle winced as lightening arced through his brain. Angel laid a restraining hand on Cordelia's arm.
"She's right," He said in a quieter voice. "What's wrong Doyle?"
"You mean beside the crippling pain inside my skull?"
"I thought the headaches went away after the vision?" Said Cordelia huffily.
"Yeah. So did I." Doyle cradled his head in his hands and willed the explosions behind his eyes to go away.
"What did you see?" Angel asked, his concern for Doyle evident.
Doyle squinted up at him. "How do you feel about England?"