Chapter One: Birthday. What if "Birthday" had gone just a little bit different? This starts in the middle of the episode, and goes AU from there, though I'm going to try to follow the cannon timeline as best I can.
Cordelia was not having a good day.
That of course was an understatement of cosmic proportions, but Cordelia put great faith in understatement as a dramatic device. It gave more impact to a tragic situation. Just another in a long line of tips for the stage that she would never get a chance to use in this lifetime.
Which, to tell the truth, might not last a whole hell of a lot longer. She'd been floating outside of her body for hours now, and her attempt to possess Angel's sleeping body and write down the address from her vision had been a big fat bust. She had to face up to the possibility- no, probability- that she wouldn't survive long enough to find a way back into her body. She sighed and slumped into one of the many chairs around the bed, staring distantly at the wall.
"Hey, Princess. Long time no see."
She shrieked- not that anyone heard her- and whirled around the face the owner of the voice. Her shocked gaze collided with green eyes that were far too serious to match with the laughing, self-effacing ones of her memory.
"Doyle?" Her voice wavered a little and she hated that, but it had been such a horrible day and suddenly he was here, smiling at her a little with his hands tucked into the pockets of the same pants he'd been wearing the day he died. He smiled a little bit more at her uncertain question, and took a step closer, putting himself within arm's reach. She slowly stretched out a hesitant hand, but when her fingertips encountered the warmth of skin on his cheek instead of the nothingness of empty air, she hurled herself into his arms.
He held her close, stroking a soothing hand down her back, and laughed softly into her hair when she made an agreeable noise and burrowed closer. Finally she calmed down some- enough to pull away and stare at him as if his face were an expensive dress that she wanted very, very much. Longing, and determination to acquire and keep.
"I'm here because you gotta make a choice, Cordy," Doyle said at last. "You're dying."
She stiffened in instinctive denial and cast a frantic glance at her still body. "No."
"Yes," he insisted. "You're in a coma now. If you don't make a choice, then you'll jus' lie there until the next vision hits you and blows the back of your skull out."
She winced and drew her gaze away from her body, fixing it almost desperately on his face instead. "You've made a mistake. I mean, I know the pain's been getting worse and all, but..." She trailed off when Doyle just looked at her with gentle green eyes. "Alright." It emerged as a whisper, and she had to clear her throat before she could continue. "Okay, I believe you. You said I had a choice. What is it?"
His eyes smiled approval for her quick acceptance of the situation. "Well, you've got a couple. If you're really stupid, you could always go back into that body o' yours and die. I don't recommend that one."
She shook her head emphatically, and he continued. "We could make you part demon, but it would hurt and the side effects are pretty chancy. We could give the visions to Angel, but chances are he'd be driven insane by them." He glanced at her to see her reaction to these suggestions, and she made a face at him.
"Please tell me that you have something better than that," she said. "Please."
"Well, the last option you've got available to ya is for me to come back and take the visions."
"Yes!" she exclaimed before he had a chance to say anything more. "Oh hell yes."
"There's more, Cordy," he said, but she just shook her head.
"You come back, everything's good. That's all I need to hear."
"Jus' listen to me for a minute, would you?" he said, and the first hint of irritation crept into his voice. She sighed but shut up and listened.
"The Powers can't take the visions away completely. The best they can do is change 'em into something else, though no one knows for certain what they'll be changed to, exactly. For all I know they'll hurt just as much, though I doubt they'll kill ya like the visions do."
"I'll risk it," Cordelia said immediately. "I want to go back intact and human and even if Angel doesn't go insane from the vision he'd just get broodier, which is not acceptable since he's finally gotten over Buffy's death and sudden return to the world of the living." She gave him a cheeky smile. "Besides, it wouldn't be so bad to have you back, ya know."
"I know," he said, smiling back at her. "Missed ya while I was gone."
"Missed you too," she said, and he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. The place where his lips touched was suddenly red-hot, and then the world exploded into fiery pain before bleeding into blackness, and blessed relief.
Cordelia opened her eyes very slowly, expecting the flash of pain that usually accompanied light just after she'd had a vision. When the pain didn't come she opened her eyes completely, and the pale blur in front of her focused into Angel's face.
The vampire threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly, and with a smile she hugged him back. "I was worried about you," he muttered into her shoulder. "And if you ever keep a secret like that again I'll kill you myself."
"Or just yell at her a lot and go off somewhere to sulk," Doyle said from the foot of the bed. "Whatever works."
Angel whipped his head around so fast that he would have cracked Cordelia in the nose, had she not moved her head back quickly. "You're... here," Angel said inanely, and he had to clear his throat when his voice broke. "You came back. From the dead."
"Cordelia... the visions were killin' here. So I took 'em back, and here I am." His shrug was rueful, but there was something else in the back of his eyes.
"Just like that." Angel's voice was disbelieving.
"Well, no," he admitted, and when he tried to take a step forward his knees buckled. Angel was there in an instant, catching him before he could fall to the floor, and when the big vampire sat down on the bed with Doyle his arms there was something impossibly tender in his expression, underneath all the very Angel-esque worry. Here, Cordelia thought, was Angel's first and closest friend, and she was watching two men who never should have been separated. Doyle didn't seem like the sort of man Angel would be close to, but she remembered that Angel had always let himself relax and be distracted from his brooding when Doyle was around in a way that he didn't with anyone else. And then there was the whole thing that Angel had had for the half demon. But of course she didn't know about that, because of course Angel didn't get crushes. Right.
"I'm just a bit weak is all," Doyle was reassuring Angel when Cordelia came back from her little mental jaunt. "I was dead a couple minutes ago. Give me a couple minutes to adjust to a pulse."
"I'll go downstairs and tell the others," Cordelia said. "That I'm fine, and that Doyle's back. That sound okay?"
Angel gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks, Cordy. You're a gem."
"Damn straight," she told him, and stretched as she stood up. "Don't pester him too much," she ordered Angel. "Time enough for questions when we're all in the room."
"I got it," he said, and she smiled at him before heading downstairs to tell the others the good news.
Wesley, who'd been lounging against the counter thumbing through some thick dusty book, jumped upright at her appearance in the lobby. "Dear lord, you're awake!" He rushed out to give her a hug, and she laughed into his chest and hugged him back. She was promptly passed off to Gunn, and Fred, and finally Lorne for more hugs. Finally everyone calmed down enough for her to explain.
"The visions were going to kill me," she said quietly. Gunn snorted and leveled a glare at her.
"Yeah, I kinda guessed that, what with how bad the visions were getting. Don't you ever-"
She waved an airy hand to cut him off. "Got the speech from Angel, already. I won't, don't worry. Anyway, the visions were going to kill me. Blow the back of my head out, I think he said."
"He who?" Wesley asked. Cordelia waved him silent, too.
"I'm getting to that. I was in a coma, but I wasn't in my body; I was wandering around watching you all try to figure out a way to get me back. Wes, you could have turned the pages slower, you know. I don't read that fast. Anyway, I finally just gave up and was sitting on the bed, and then he showed up."
"He who?" Wes asked again, displaying a great deal of patience.
"Doyle."
Confusion on the faces of Gunn and Fred, dawning comprehension in the eyes of Wesley and Lorne. "He's here, isn't he." There was no question in Wesley's voice.
"Yeah," she said. "He's upstairs with Angel. I'll explain everything when we're all up there, but I think they need to be alone for a while. It's been a long two years."
"Who's Doyle?" Gunn wanted to know.
Angel knew that he was staring, but he couldn't quite help it. Doyle was here, alive, lying on his bed and propped up on a truly impressive pile of pillows and looking at him with one eyebrow quirked in amusement.
"C'mon, man, I know I'm good lookin' but this is starting to get weird. You haven't blinked for at least a minute."
Angel started. "Sorry," he said quietly. "It's just been a long couple of years, you know?"
Doyle glanced around the room, both eyebrows rocketing up when he caught sight of the crib in the middle of the room. "I'm starting to get that impression."
"Er, yeah. It's a long story. You didn't know? I thought you were looking in on us. Or something. You knew about Cordy, after all."
"That was different; I was givin' her a message. Powers-selected guide there. And yeah, I was lookin' in on you lot, but couldn't really... Just glimpses, mostly. Nothing coherent. I'm sorta putting it all together now, but it takes a while. And I didn't realize that you had a kid." His expression was briefly contemplative. "I didn't even know that vampires could have children."
"Technically, no. Somehow Darla and I managed it."
The eyebrows went up again. "Darla, huh?"
"Yeah," he muttered.
"Huh." Silence reigned for a moment, and then he asked softly, "What's his name?"
Equally quiet, Angel said, "Connor."
"It's a wonderful name, Angel."
"He's a wonderful baby." Doyle hid his grin at the pride in Angel's voice, then folded his arms behind his head.
"It's been a long two years, hasn't it? Buildings getting blown up, evil lawyers, Sires running around, epiphanies right and left, people getting shot, alternate dimensions, and now a baby? You've been a busy boy, Angel."
"You could say that," Angel said. The silence stretched comfortably between them for a few moments, before Angel finally said, in a voice almost too low to be audible, "I missed you, you know. I missed you like hell."
Doyle grinned at him. "Glad to know I made a lasting impression. Hell, 'cept for the visions I didn't figure you'd miss me a'tall."
Angel leaned forward, his eyes intense. "Do you have any idea what hell I went through? I watched you die. I had to watch you sacrifice yourself because I didn't do anything. And you thought that I didn't miss you?"
"Er... I was wrong?" he hazarded.
"Damn straight," Cordelia said from the doorway. "Being dead clearly did something to your thought processes, not that you had a lot to start with."
Doyle shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, I just figured... Life goes on, an' all, and besides you had someone to take my place."
"Well, you figured wrong, buster. We missed you. Angel cried for you, and I wouldn't speak for days. Good for my throat, by the way. And as much as I love Wesley, and he is a very dear friend of mine, he was not your replacement. No one could have taken your place. Got it?"
"I guess," Doyle said. "I'm... not entirely sure what I'm supposed to say here. Something touching, I'm sure."
Cordelia stretched out on the bed next to him and laid her head onto his chest, right over his heart. "You don't have to say anything," she whispered. "I'm just glad you're here."
Doyle smiled down at her and let one arm fall around her shoulders. "Yeah, well, I have to tell ya, Princess- I'm pretty glad to be back."
He felt a hand on his cheek and turned his head to see Angel looking at him with a melting look in his dark eyes. "I'm pretty glad you're here too," he said softly, and Doyle just smiled a little bit more and rubbed his cheek into the broad, calloused palm.
A hesitant knock at the door interrupted the moment, and Doyle felt an unpleasant lurch in his stomach when Angel's hand dropped away and Cordelia sat up. The loss of their touch after two long years of floating in blackness with only an occasional glimpse of his old friends to sustain him was causing something in his stomach to shake with fear. What if he disappeared again? But he controlled his reaction and watched the door as Cordelia called out "Come in!" and it opened.
The first man through the door was tall but not as tall as Angel, and thin with longish brown hair, disconcerting blue-grey eyes framed by glasses, and pale skin. The second man was even taller- taller than Angel- and black, well muscled with a smooth-shaven skull and brown eyes that were startlingly kind for his tough looks. A young woman with brown hair pulled up into a ponytail and glasses followed him through, smiling shyly. The last visitor was a tall green demon with red eyes and horns, wearing a suit that made Doyle wince and carrying an infant. Angel immediately stood up and took the baby from the demon, and Doyle felt the shakiness in his stomach spread a little farther at the loss of the vampire's presence by his side.
"Hello," the first man greeted him in an upper-crust accent. "I'm Wesley Wyndham-Pryce."
The replacement, Doyle started to think reflexively, but shook it away. Cordelia had told the truth, and he was just being immature. "Pleased to meetcha," he said cheerfully, deciding to ignore the inner shakes now. Just a side affect of coming back from the dead, probably. Magic that big had to have a couple side affects.
"Gunn," the black man identified himself. "This is Winnifred Burkle," he added with a tender smile for the girl. "Fred."
"And I'm Lorne," the demon introduced himself. "Heard a lot about you from Queen C and Angelcakes, here."
"Um, good?" Doyle cast a look at Angel, who just hunched one huge shoulder and refused to look up from Connor. He said nothing to protest the nickname, and Doyle cast a slightly awed look at the Lorne. Anyone who could get away with calling Angel by a nickname like "Angelcakes" deserved respect.
"All good," the demon assured him. "They missed you."
Cordelia squeezed his arm and smile at Lorne. "We made sure he knows."
"That we did," Angel agreed, looking up from where he was sitting, rocking Connor gently in his arms. Both of them turned their smiles at him, and Doyle felt the shakes fade away a little, only to return when Cordelia suddenly jumped to her feet and said, "My vision!"
"What?" Wesley demanded, and Cordelia jumped off the bed, looking agitated. Doyle pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Great, more shakes.
"The vision that knocked me out in the first place! A girl's gonna summon a demon, and she's gonna do it soon. 171 Oak," and she scrawled it on a notepad lying helpfully on Angel's bedside table. "Hurry."
"I'll take the baby," Lorne said, suiting action to word. Angel smiled gratefully at him, already halfway out the door, but he suddenly turned around and crossed the room in three long strides. Doyle found himself wrapped in a tight hug, with Angel's voice whispering, "I'm glad you're back," in his ear, and then the vampire was gone from the room.
"We'll be back soon," Wesley said, seeming to direct his comment to Fred more than anyone else in the room, and then he and Gunn had left the room too, following Angel. Both men seemed to glance back at Fred, their gaze lingering on her for a moment, before disappearing from view. Doyle saw the looks and sympathized. It sucked to care about someone who didn't really see you.
"I'll be in my room with the nipper," Lorne told Cordelia, and inclined his head in a friendly way towards Doyle. "It was good to meet you in the flesh, kiddo," he said. "We'll have to talk some more sometime."
"Sure," Doyle said, a little dazed, and then the demon was gone, leaving Doyle alone in the room with Cordy and a very shy Fred.
"We're gonna head downstairs," Cordelia told Doyle. "You wanna come with, or stay up here and rest?"
Stay... up here? Alone? His stomach contracted with a sudden burst of fear, and he said hesitantly, "I'll downstairs wit' you, if ya don't mind."
"Of course I don't mind," Cordelia said, and her smiled was warm. "If I minded I wouldn't have asked you." He climbed off the bed, and she linked her arm through his while she led him down the steps. He relaxed a little when he felt the heat seeping off of her body and into his, and he wondered when he'd started feeling so cold.
He said on the circular couch in the lobby of the grand hotel and watched as Cordelia started a pot of coffee and settled down at the computer, and Fred started sorting some loose papers into file folders. Oh good, someone besides Cordelia and her Filing System from Hell was doing the paperwork now. Angel must have been deliriously happy to have her around, if only for that.
The scene was cozy and domestic, and it managed to make Doyle feel even more out of place than before, and colder, somehow. He shivered and grabbed a blanket folded over the back of the couch wrapping it tightly around his body in a vain attempt to trap some heat.
Cordelia noticed it and looked at him with concern. "Doyle, it's like ninety degrees in this damn hotel. Are you sure you're okay?"
"Jus' fine, Princess," he tried to say, but a wave of shivering cut off the end of the last syllable. Cordelia rushed over to his side, wrapping her arms around him, and with a grateful moan he leaned into her heat.
"C-cold," he got out. "I think... side effect. Spell that... brought me back. N-need Angel." He clamped his jaw shut, figuring that was about as much as he was going to be able to get out. Cordelia tightened her grip on him, and he curled even tighter against her body.
"Fred, go call Angel," Cordelia ordered. "This is serious. Tell him to get his lily-white ass back here, now."
Fred ran to obey, her eyes wide. Cordelia rubbed soothing circles on Doyle's back and whispered reassurances in his ear, and together they waited while Fred called Angel.
Angel was helping Gunn shove a huge demon carcass into the back of his pickup when his cell phone started to ring. He cursed, juggled his armful of demon for a minute, and finally said, "Wesley, can you answer it?"
Rolling his eyes eloquently, Wes dug one hand into the pocket of Angel's coat and pulled it out. "Hello?" he said, and some of his impatience with teenagers who spilled soda onto magic books and still tried to do summoning spells leaked through his voice. He listened for a moment, and when he spoke against his tone was altered to one of worry.
"He can't stop shivering? Cordelia, then man just came back from the dead, there's bound to be all manner of-"
Angel shoved the demon the rest of the way into the truck bed, hard enough to rock the vehicle, and snatched the cell out of Wesley's hand. "Cordelia? What's wrong with Doyle?"
"He can't stop shivering," Cordy said, and there was an edge of panic to her voice. "He keeps asking for you."
He'd take time to savor that later. "I'm on my way."
Cordelia heaved a huge sigh of relief when Angel strode into the hotel lobby like the hounds of hell were at his heels. "Angel, thank God you're here. I was starting to get desperate."
Angel settled onto the couch and peeled Doyle away from Cordelia, tucking him against his own big body. Doyle immediately curled into Angel's side, and his shivers started slowing down. Angel and Cordelia exchanged a relieved but puzzled glance- if he were cold, a vampire shouldn't have been able to stop his shivering more than a human, since their bodies were always room temperature.
"Sorry," Doyle muttered as soon as he could speak again. "I didn't think it would be this bad."
"Shh," Cordelia soothed. "Don't worry about it." She was stroking Doyle's hair softly, and Angel could see that her hand was trembling. "Just... tell us what's wrong?"
"Angel," Doyle muttered, and the other two exchanged another glance, this one worried.
"I'm what's wrong?" Angel asked, and made as if to move away. Doyle shook his head frantically and clung tighter to the vampire, halting the abortive moment.
"No, it's how I was brought back. Not meant to exist, seein' as I'm dead, so the Powers tied my existence to someone else."
"Me," Angel said grimly. "They tied you to me. That's what caused the shakes, I bet. Me leaving so soon after you come back."
"Sorry," Doyle apologized again. "I was supposed ta come back to help, not to be getting' in your way. It'll be over in a few days, 'm sure."
"Hey," Angel interrupted, his voice gentle. "You haven't been paying attention. We missed you, would have given almost anything to have you back. And now we do, and if it means that I have to stick close to you for the rest of my unnaturally long life, then I'll do it with a song in my heart."
"Oh, I won't bother you tha' long-" Doyle was stumbling over himself in an attempt to explain.
"Doyle," Cordelia said, with remarkable patience, "you're not listening to Angel at all." She put a gentle hand under his chin and tilted his head up till he was looking at her. "We're glad to have you back. We're so damn glad to have you back that we would dance- or I would, anyway, because I would be afraid to see what Angel calls dancing- and we will do anything to keep you."
Her eyes were focused intently into Doyle's, and Angel thought for one demented moment that her brown eyes were glowing gold. But then she shot an amused glance in his direction, and the effect was gone. "Besides, I doubt Angel's gonna think all closeness is a hardship."
Angel glared at her- way to reveal a guy's secrets, Queen C- but she grinned unrepentantly and turned her attention back to Doyle. "You getting' it this time?"
"Yeah," he said, and it really did sound like he got it, finally. He uncurled a little away from Angel's body, and Angel stroked one hand gently down his back to encourage him to stay where he was. Doyle smiled up at him in response, and he felt like he'd been punched in the gut.
Cordelia noticed, of course. Cordelia always did. She laid a sympathetic hand on his thigh and said, "You two go on upstairs. I'll talk to Gunn and Wesley, explain everything."
"Thanks, Cordy," Angel said gratefully, and stood up, scooping Doyle into his arms as he did so. Doyle wriggled a little, trying to get free.
"I can walk," he protested. Angel obligingly set him down, and he took a confident step forward. Angel suppressed a smile as he immediately wobbled, and picked him up again, thinking that he was showing remarkable restraint in not saying "I told you so."
Cordelia watched them as they climbed the stairs and then turned the corner to disappear from view. She turned to Fred and smiled.
"Don't say anything to either of them. They'll muddle through on their own, without one of us getting in the middle of it."
"But what about you?" Fred demanded, unable to resist.
"What about me?"
Emboldened by Cordelia's mild response, Fred tried to explain. "Well, it's just that you were... you know... you've loved both of them, is all," Fred finally managed to get out. "Doesn't it bother you for them to be together?"
Cordelia shook her head, smiling a little. "I never had time to love Doyle, and Angel, well, I just don't feel that way about him. Besides, have you ever seen Angel quite that cuddly with someone? I think not. Those two are meant to be together." Her tone was firm enough to discourage further discussion, but Fred noticed that her eyes lingered at the top of the steps, where she had last seen Angel and Doyle. Fred decided that it would be better not to comment, at least for now, and kept her mouth shut.
Wes and Gunn stumbled in, looking utterly exhausted, but the first thing out of Wesley's mouth was, "Is Doyle all right?"
"Doyle's fine," she reassured them. "Or he will be. Turns out that he was he was brought back was by tying his existence to Angel's, and his system couldn't quite handle the shock of Angel taking off so soon after he reentered the mortal coil."
"They tied his existence to Angel?" Wesley demanded. "Is that bidirectional? Because if it is then Doyle is a dangerous weakness to Angel."
"I doubt Doyle would have let himself return like that, even to save me," Cordelia said firmly. "He always did get the mission better than any of us."
"Hey, Cordy," Gunn put in. "Were he and Angel close?"
Her gaze went unerringly to the top of the stairs again. "Yeah," she said softly. "You wouldn't have thought it to look at them, but... Yeah."
Angel kicked the door lightly shut behind him and set Doyle down on the bed. The half-demon watched him with unfathomable green eyes as he stripped off his coat and shirt and kicked off his shoes. He stretched out on the bed and nodded at Doyle, something questioning in the small movement. Doyle shrugged diffidently and pulled off his own leather jacket and shirt before lying back down again.
Angel pulled the covers up around their shoulders and then lay still, hearing Doyle's heartbeat as his friend lay carefully on the other side of the bed. Angel mentally cursed the distance between them before realizing that he was acting like a teenager with a crush, and carefully tamped down his eagerness.
Then Doyle rolled over, closing the distance, and snuggled against his side. Angel carefully draped one arm around his body, and smiled into the dark.
Cordelia sat over in a corner of Angel's bedroom and watched her men.
Not her men, she reminded herself, but she couldn't help thinking that it was true, as far as it went. These two men belonged to her more than they belonged to anyone else except each other.
Gunn had been cautious about Doyle's return, doubting that it was really the man himself. While Cordelia understood the sense of it logically, her heart was not so understanding. When he'd asked why Angel trusted Doyle so completely, she'd snapped back that Doyle had died for Angel; what had he done?
She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. In those few minutes before dawn broke over the horizon it was harder to lock down her wayward thoughts and ideas. She knew, now, what her visions had been changed to. She'd felt the weird heat behind her eyes when convincing Doyle downstairs earlier, and the man who was just stubborn enough to never give up an idea once he'd gotten ahold of it had capitulated instantly. Then when talking to Gunn she'd felt the same heat, and she'd suddenly Known that Gunn was afraid of the change that Doyle represented, and that he'd fallen weeks ago for Fred, and that he was attracted to Wesley but refused to admit it even to himself. She'd Known it as if from some outside source, and as soon as she'd broken eye contact it had stopped.
So, she had more power now. A lot more power. The visions had been short, concentrated, and painful bursts of knowledge sent to her. This was information about anyone she chose, whenever she chose to use it, as well as considerable powers of persuasion. This was a hell of a lot more than the visions ever were, and she suspected that the Powers hadn't intended for her to figure it out this quickly. Well, tough. She was smarter than most people gave her credit for, including the Powers, apparently, and she was also smart enough to know that she needed to use this Knowing very, very carefully.
Across the room Doyle shifted and sighed, and Cordelia got up and crept quietly out of the room. She didn't need to be in there to know what would happen when those two woke up- both would be all smiles, and comfortable with each other and everything, but both would very carefully avoid any mention of the fact that they had been snuggled together like lovers. But that was okay, because she Knew that Angel was going to get ballet tickets tomorrow, and if either of them could resist the other in a tux she would eat her brand-new black heels.