Doyle didn't think that there was anything more beautiful than hearing the woman you loved say the she loved you as well. He didn't think that Cordelia had ever said those words to anyone before. It was the way she had sounded so hesitant, so unsure of what she was saying. And he was absolutely positive that she hadn't been with anyone before him.
She was sound asleep, and he couldn't blame her. She'd had what was probably the longest day anyone had ever had. She was burrowed in his arms, the blanket cast carelessly over top of them, their limbs entangled to the point that it was hard to tell where he ended and she began. And it was wonderful. Probably the happiest he'd ever been.
They still had hurdles to leap over, obstacles to overcome. He had secrets she didn't know. Like Harry. His wife. And he was certain that she was going to have to be his ex wife and soon. There was no way that he could have a relationship with the woman in his arms while still being married. That was bound to be a conversation where he lost a couple body parts. He couldn't imagine her being at all understanding about that one. She had a right to know and he'd allowed their relationship to progress to the level of intimacy without ever breathing a word to her about it.
But that could wait until morning. He wouldn't wake her up for the world. She had her arms wrapped around him, her head on his chest, her breathing was deep and even, and her sleep peaceful. She was beautiful, her hair falling around her face, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, all those curves melded against him.
And then, the moment was ruined as Dennis opened the door and wafted in, a shoe firmly in one transparent hand. Doyle rolled just in time to miss it, landing both him and Cordelia in a pile on the floor. She woke up with a yelp, flailing desperately as she was startled into consciousness.
"Call off your ghost before he kills me, darlin'." Doyle said, scrambling out of the tangle of blankets. Cordelia sat up, the sheets falling away, leaving her completely bare.
"Dennis, stop it!" she yelled and the ghost paused. "He isn't going anywhere so you'd might as well stop trying to murder him. Now go in the other room."
Defeated, Dennis went. Cordelia swatted her hair out of her face and stood up, not one shred of modesty showing. She did pull on a nightshirt though, and headed into the kitchen. She returned almost immediately with a bottle of water.
"Sorry about that." Cordelia said, examining a bruise in the mirror. "I didn't think he hated you that much."
Doyle shrugged as she sat down beside him. "It's all right. But maybe we should think about my place the next time we have a sleep over."
Cordelia giggled. "I think you two could get along once he gets used to you. He just has to learn to give people a chance before deciding whether or not he likes them." She said, untangling the blankets and getting back into bed. She lay on one side, her arm bent so she was holding herself up on one elbow.
"I don't know. I've been around a while and he hasn't stopped throwing things yet."
"Yeah, but you've only been staying here for two nights. He just gets jealous sometimes."
"He's jealous of me?"
"I think so. Think about it, Doyle. For one you're alive and he obviously isn't and you're monopolizing on my time, which means that I don't spend any time with him. He's a little jealous."
Doyle stretched out beside her. "Well he can just get over it, because I'm not going anywhere." He said, and Cordelia leaned over to kiss him.
"Okay, we'll just deal with a homicidal ghost then."
"Guess so."
Cordelia burrowed against him, settling her head in the curve of his neck, "And by the way, you can stop worrying about telling me the things I don't know, because I already know."
"What are ye getting' at, Delia?"
"I know about Harry." She said offhandedly. "Faith told me about her. And I'll admit there was a little anger going on at first, but the I thought that, when I compare it to the fact that you kept your not human heritage a secret from me for three months and I forgave you for that, it's not that bad. But," she warned, "I'll expect you to get started on that divorce. There is no way that I am going to be sleeping with a married man."
If it was even possible, Doyle fell more in love with her right then. "I must be dreaming, because you know about Harry and aren't cutting off something vital to survival."
Cordelia laughed. "In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter. But put it off any longer, and I will not be happy. Nor will I be this understanding about the whole situation. Got it?"
"Got it."
/
/
God, she was amazing. That was the thought that came to Doyle's mind as he watched Cordelia getting ready for work the next morning. She'd briefly mentioned taking a couple days off, but that notion had quickly been forgotten. Someone had to keep the business running while Angel dealt with Faith, and it wasn't going to be Wesley. She wasn't sure he had any idea what to do with a file.
"Are you ready?"
"Well, setting aside the fact that the only clothes I have here are the ones I wore yesterday, yeah."
"We can stop at your place on the way over. It isn't very far out of the way."
"Are you sure you're up to goin' into work today, Princess? You've had an extra rough couple of days."
Cordelia stopped in the middle of fastening her shirt, a navy blue button down with baby blue stripes that looked incredible. "I'm sure. Now stop asking me that." She said, buttoning the last button and slipping her feet into sandals. She slung her purse over one shoulder and grabbed her keys from the dresser. "Let's go before you can ask me again."
"And before Dennis throws that pan he's been carrying around all morning at me." Doyle added, placing a hand on the small of her back.
"Yeah, before that happens. He'll eventually get along with you. It's just a little struggle for dominance. He's been the man of the house for like fifty years."
Cordelia allowed herself to be led to the door, and didn't object when Doyle continued to guide her down the hall. Her nosy neighbor, notorious for stealing boyfriends, had been watching and Cordelia was hoping that the extended physical contact would make her a little less likely to start trouble. She, of course, didn't mention anything to Doyle as he and Darlene had already met and she had forewarned him. She still had to go about making Darlene lose interest, however. That was bound to be an enormous undertaking.
/
/
/
Angel wasn't in the office when Cordelia and Doyle arrived. Wesley, however, was. Cordelia let out a heaving sigh and headed for the coffee machine. Doyle didn't speak to the Englishman right away; he checked the messages first, made notes of whom to call back first. Finally, Wesley made the first move.
"How is Cordelia doing? From what I understand she had quite an ordeal yesterday."
"Well, getting tortured and chained to the ceiling is bound to be a little rough. And then you add in the crashing through a glass window and walking ten miles in the sewer and get that she's doing better than just about anyone else would having been through what she has."
"Good." Wesley said definitively. "I'm glad she's doing well. Now, we must get back to business. While Angel is assisting Faith, I will be helping out around here. Do we, at the moment, have any ongoing cases?"
Cordelia shook her head around a cup of coffee and winced as she heard a crash downstairs. "Nope. No cases other than the one tearing up the downstairs. Wes, did you ever get ahold of Willow?"
"I think Angel called her yesterday. Why do you ask?"
"You need to call and find out if Buffy has left yet. I think I agree with you on that. She'll probably definitely come here."
Cordelia didn't add that she already knew exactly what would happen when Buffy did arrive. She wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet for a few more hours. She knew it wouldn't last long. It never did.
And then there was the wondering if and when the day that wasn't was going to occur. And whether or not Harry was going to arrive demanding a divorce so that she could remarry. Cordelia sent up a quick prayer that the things that should have happened already didn't happen in rapid succession. She had no idea what to expect.
Cordelia paused on the way to her desk. "Wes, on second thought, never mind. I'll call her. You go see if Angel needs anything. He's probably running short on blood."
Wesley nodded reluctantly. "Sure."
Cordelia picked up the phone and dialed Willow's dorm room number. The redheaded witch picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"
"Willow, it's Cordelia."
"Cordy? Why are you calling?"
"Has Buffy left yet?"
"You mean for class?"
"No. For LA. We figured that she'd be coming here, with the whole Faith thing."
"Faith is there?"
"Yeah. Wesley told Giles that he thought she would come here next. We assumed that Buffy would be on her way too. Payback and all."
"I don't know. She just said that she was going to go to class. I haven't seen her in a couple hours. Is Faith there now?"
"Yeah. Angel has her downstairs. I think he's trying the rehabilitate her again. Even though we all remember where that got us the last time he tried it."
"Maybe it'll work this time. What did she do?"
"Oh the normal. Attacked and kidnapped me. Had a bit of fun with some torture devices, hung me from a ceiling. I knocked her out, called for help. She got into a fight with my half demon boyfriend and he knocked her out again and then we brought her back to Angel."
"And this happened when?"
"Yesterday."
"What did you do?"
"Went home, Dennis tried to kill Doyle, then went to bed, got up and came to work."
"Dennis? Doyle?"
"Doyle my boyfriend and Dennis my ghost."
"You have a ghost?"
"He came with the apartment. So, you'll call me and let me know if Buffy decides to come here?"
"I'll try, but Buffy doesn't tell me everything."
Cordelia remembered Willow turning evil and Glory and all the stuff that had happened in her world. Yeah, that would all have to change. "Okay, Will. Thanks."
"No problem. Oh, what kind of demon is your boyfriend?"
Willow wasn't weirded out. Cordelia decided that in itself was weird. But then again, she hadn't thought anything of Willow and Oz dating and Oz was obviously a werewolf. "A half Bracken."
"Oh neat! A Tracker demon. They can jump really far. And run really fast."
"Yeah, that they can. Tell everyone I said hi. And make sure to mention to Xander that I have a boyfriend. And that I am doing really well for myself. And that I'm happy and that I never even think about him. Which is the truth except when I'm talking to you."
"I will."
"Thanks. Oh, and Willow, while I'm thinking about it, could you look up some stuff on a place called Pylea? It's an alternate universe. Humans are cows and all that good stuff."
"Uh, sure. But why?"
"I'll let you know if you find anything. Bye."
Doyle had been leaning against the door frame. "Pylea? That's a very odd dimension, darlin'. I don't think we'll be wantin' to take a vacation there anytime soon."
"I know. When I was out, in the coma, I had dreams about a place where humans were slaves, and all sorts of bad things happened, and Angel turned into a demon, and something about a prince and visions and royalty. I got the distinct impression I was supposed to help one particular cow."
But Doyle hadn't heard her. His gaze was focused on the door behind her. Cordelia turned around and saw Harriet Doyle. And directly behind her was one Buffy Summers. Cordelia swore.
"Dammit, here we go."
Harriet spoke first. "What the hell do you think you mean, Francis, calling my machine and asking for a divorce?"
