Here we go, Chapter 3. Please review, guys. I haven't gotten nearly enough reviews. I want suggestions on where you'd like this to go, I'll even take constructive criticism. The point of m posting what I write is as much to supplement my skills as a writer as it is to entertain all of you. So please, review more. Even if you hate it.

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When Angel returned with what Doyle had requested, the Irish half demon answered the door looking worse for wear. His shirt was button -less, his hair mussed and messy, a bite on one side of his neck, scratches on his chest. There were several bruises on his arms.

"Did she attack you or did you bang her?" Angel asked bluntly, setting everything on the table. Doyle rubbed his face, tried to smooth his hair.

"Both." He went through the bags, placing his clothing in the living room and beginning to unpack the groceries. "Go talk to her, would you? She's cried herself out and is now soaking in the bathtub. She won't talk to me. No damn wonder after what I did."

"Hey, it isn't like you forced her to do anything she didn't want to."

"I took advantage of her vulnerability."

"You took advantage of each other. You aren't exactly batting a thousand, Doyle. You were just resurrected. You probably don't even know what day it is, or what the hell has happened in the last six years. Maybe, you weren't just sent here to help her. Maybe you were sent here to help one another."

"What do you mean?"

"That maybe the best help for her is being able to help someone else. To see that she's making a difference."

"You aren't angry about what happened?"

Angel shook his head. "I lost her a long time ago. What we almost had was a love borne out of friendship, of knowing each other inside out. We never had a spark. Just contentment."

"But it still hurts."

"Like a bitch." Angel headed toward the bathroom. "But life wasn't made to be easy."

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Cordelia was standing in the tub, wrapped in a towel when Angel walked in. She took one look at him, at the worry blatantly evident in his eyes and walked into his arms. He held her close, carefully, half afraid that he was going to break her. "I thought you hated me." She whispered brokenly into his chest. "God, Angel, I've needed you."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm here now."

Cordelia looked up. "Ironic, isn't it? That when you're finally ready to be there to help me through everything that happened, I don't need you to be."

The words hurt, but he had known they were coming, wasn't surprised by them in the least. He held her tighter for a moment, then stepped back. "I'm here if you need me."

"I know. And that helps, Angel. It really does. I just want things to feel again. I want to be able to feel again."

"You will be. You are. You just have to let yourself feel. That's what happened, Cordy. You got so used to blocking out what hurt, you started blocking out every feeling. Wanna tell me about what happened with you and Doyle?"

"I used him." The words were the simple truth. No sugar coating, no dodging the question. "I had sex with him. And I used him to try to make myself feel something."

"And did you?"

"For a minute, I felt alive. And it was a rush. Is he angry with me?"

"No. Confused, feeling guilty, but no angry."

"Why is he feeling guilty?"

"Because he thinks that he exploited your vulnerability."

"Bullshit. I manipulated him and used him and we both know it."

"Yes, you did. But you don't both know it. He's in denial that you have any fault in the matter whatsoever."

Cordelia pulled on her pajamas. "You think it was a huge mistake."

"Yeah. At the moment. Maybe not in the future, but now wasn't the best time to let anything between the two of you happen."

"I wanted it to. Not just to feel something. I could've gone out and picked up some random guy and boinked his brains out. I wanted him." Cordelia piled her hair on top of her head. "Maybe it was always him."

"Could be. Now you have a chance to find out if it was always him that kept you from being happy, or from letting yourself be happy, with anyone else."

"For what it's worth, Angel, I'm sorry. For everything. For not being able to love you like you deserve. For not telling you about any of this. For thinking that you hated me, that you wished I had died."

"For a while, I did." Angel looked the most guilty she had ever seen him in her entire life. "You hurt me, Cordelia. I loved you, and you slept with my son. That felt like a knife through my heart. But I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't see that you were already searching for ways to make your life meaningful again. I didn't see that you were in as much pain as I was, and I should have. If I had, then maybe we wouldn't just now be starting to get you better."

"So does this mean we're good?"

"We're good. I'm gonna get outta here. You and Doyle need to straighten some things out. Like your relationship, cause like it or not, you've got one. And Cordy, try to understand him a bit. He just got back from being dead. That's a hell of a trip."

"Angel."

He stopped at the door, turned to look at her. "Yeah?"

"See ya at work in the morning?"

"Eight sharp. Bring Doyle."

"Can I be really selfish for a minute?"

"Sure."

"Will things ever be the way they were? When we were just Angel Investigations and it was all we could do to keep ahead of the bad guys? When we were all close and didn't have to wonder if we were all still there for each other?"

Angel sighed, brooded for a moment. "I wish it could be, Cordy. I miss the way it was, too. But what we've got is a chance to make the whole world good. With the resources and contacts I have at Wolfram and Hart, there isn't a place in this world or any other that evil can hide."

"Only the ones we're representing, huh?"

Angel looked stricken for a moment. "I know it's hard to understand, and I know that it isn't what we're used to, but there has to be a balance kept."

Cordelia looked at him with eyes too old and sad for a twenty five year old woman. "I can't straddle the fence, Angel. I can't stake a vampire one night, and defend one in court the next. I can't do it. Every good thing I do is balanced with a bad, and I just can't take it anymore." She rubbed her wrist unconsciously, feeling the cut, hating it and herself. "We're becoming them. What we spent so long fighting. That's what we are now."

Angel turned and left, knowing she was right, and nearly hating her for it. Hating himself many times more. Doyle didn't try to stop him, had heard snippets of the conversation, enough to glean the needed information. So her job was part of Cordelia's problem. He could see why. Killing evil one time, helping it flourish the next. That would wear on anyone. He just hoped that she had gotten through to Angel. That she could get him to take a few steps into the past. Into what was good and right and needed to be done.

"Doyle, can we talk?"

Cordelia walked out in a pair of simple flannel pajamas the color of charcoal. Her hair was wet, in a bun on the top of her head. Her toenails were coral colored. He memorized everything about her in that one moment, when she seemed the most like the naïve, bright, promising girl he'd fallen in love with more than half a decade earlier. It was almost possible to believe that she wasn't as damaged as he knew she was.

"Yeah, sure, love. Why don't you sit down? You aren't nearly up to full strength yet."

Cordelia nodded, perched on the couch. He sat on the coffee table, facing her. They were both highly aware that just a few hours earlier they had been tangled up in each other in that exact same spot.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for this afternoon, for yesterday, for the way you found me. I'm sorry for making you concentrate on me when we should be concentrating on you and why you're here and if we get to keep you and making sure that you're okay. Cause coming back from the dead isn't easy and it has to be hard, and I've been really selfish and I haven't been fair at all. I used you and took advantage of you and it wasn't right and I'm sorry. I'm going to start trying. I think that's the only way I'll survive. And I'm going to start by helping you get back on your feet."

Doyle leaned back. "Are you quite finished?"

"I think so, yeah."

"I'm here for good and I'm back because the Higher Powers noticed that you needed some help that no one in your life now was going to give you. They sent me back, 'Delia, to help you get back on your feet. And you didn't use me or take advantage of me. What happened, happened, and we have to deal with it, but it wasn't anyone's fault."

"I attacked you."

"And I put up a vicious struggle, didn't I?"

Cordelia felt her first real smile in days appear on her face. "Yeah, you put up a major, fight, but I subdued you and had my wicked way with you."

Doyle laughed and got to his feet. "I think it'll be safer for everyone involved if I stand over here while we have this conversation."

"Can I talk first?"

"Sure."

Cordelia took a deep breath. "Contrary to the way it seems, I don't do things like that. Jump people in my living room. Other than you, I was only ever with two other men. That was Groo, who we met in Pylea where we rescued Fred, and Connor. So I don't want you to think I just wanted fast, meaningless sex and you were the closest available male. That wasn't it at all. Doyle, the thing that always got to me about me and you, and that has kept me from fully moving on was that I never had the chance to find out. We never had a chance to try. To see what would happen. I don't know if I could've loved you then. I was stupid, had very defined views on what I wanted and what I didn't, and you fell firmly into the didn't category.

"Then, at nineteen, I have no idea if we could have made it work. I don't know if I could have loved you, I'm not sure if you really loved me or the idea of me. Of the bright, unspoiled, down on her luck poor little rich girl who had a kind streak or me, who was actually a spoiled, bratty bitch. It's the truth. And we both know it. But now, if you're willing to take on the broken, tired, worn out ex Seer, then I'm willing to see what we can do together."

Doyle considered for a minute, appeared rather thoughtful. "I'm not going to force you into anything. We both have demons to slay. You're not the only one who isn't in top form, my love. We're going to go slow, and give ourselves time."

"Time is good. Doyle, you're only two years older than me now."

"That's right, I am."

Cordelia smiled again, and he could see a glimpse of who she'd used to be. Of who she could go back to being. She got to her feet, only slightly unsteady, and walked to him. "Is it moving too fast for your tastes if I ask you to kiss me? I don't think we really got around to much kissing this afternoon."

Doyle slid his arms around her, bringing her flush against him. It would be hard not to carry her off to bed every time he touched her now that he knew how she felt, how she tasted, how wild she went in his arms as she climaxed. But he would do it. For her sake, and for his, they were going to move slowly if it killed them. Which, Doyle mused as he laid his mouth over hers, it just might.

Cordelia's hands slipped up to frame his face, she shifted closer, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. It was safety and comfort, and everything she had forgotten he always seemed to represent. He took her mouth slowly, softly, teasing her, making her wish he would take more, give more.

And then he did. He parted her lips swiftly with his tongue, sank into the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. She tasted dark and rich, and he wanted to devour, had to hold himself in tight check. She groaned against his mouth, wrapped her own arms around him. It was going to be hard not to drag his clothes off every time he kissed her.

His hands skated over her curves, came to rest on her waist, nearly wrapping completely around her. She was so small, so fragile, and she needed time and help. Bu as she came to life in his arms, as her mouth became hungry on his and he felt her pulse quicken and the electricity he'd always known she produced start to flow, he had a great deal of hope that they would heal one another. That maybe becoming whole together was the atonement for each.

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