Hey, sorry I took so long to update, I've been on holiday. And I promise an apperance from either Lysnday or Kate in the next chapter. Ohh and i found the video that this fic is based on at http/ then search under author erin giles, when all is said and done.

'He was a demon Wesley, that's all the proof I need.'

Wesley let out a measured sign, his hands clenched on the desk, fighting for control of his temper. It was the day following Cordelia's unexpected meeting with an informant demon calling himself Doyle, and claiming to be working for higher beings named the Powers. Yet, Wesley was too busy trying to convince Cordelia not to go hunting him down with a crossbow to research it.

'As I've explained numerous times before, not all demons are harmful. This Doyle may be an asset in future cases.'

'But what if he's lying?' She demanded with stark logic. 'I mean what if this is all some ploy to get at me? It could all be about me; me, me, me!'

'Then you'd be correct, although I can't imagine that will ever happen,' Wesley replied with a smirk.

'Hey give the girl a break man,' both Slayer and Watcher whirled around to find the object of their conversation leaning casually against the doorframe of their office door. Cordelia in unison cocked an eyebrow and a crossbow,

'Speak of the green and spiky devil,' to her irritation he smiled widely and she noticed how infuriatingly good-looking he was.

'You would be Doyle, I presume from Cordelia's rather childish and violent reaction?' Asked Wesley evenly ignoring Cordelia's cry of outrage.

'Yep, and you'd be Wesley Whydom-Price, former member of the Watcher's Council, England. The former part due to princess over here,' Doyle replied stepping into the room and jerking his thumb in Cordelia's direction.

'Hey,' she cried with a stamp of her foot. 'Has anyone actually noticed who's holding the crossbow here?'

Both men ignored her; Doyle was already reiterating part of what he had said to her the previous night, notably leaving out all the Oprah junk about letting people into her heart before she became hard and effectively lost her soul blah blah blah.

'So the Powers have sent you to offer us assistance?' Deduced Wesley and Doyle nodded.

'Even if you're trying to cash in you're still trying to help people, and that makes you good guys. So I'm here to help.' With a flourish Doyle produced a piece of paper that Wesley read and then handed it to Cordelia.

'Had a vision this morning. When the blinding pain stopped I wrote this down.' Wesley took it without asking questions and read the information.

'West Street, number 32, penthouse suite.'

Doyle sat down and leant forward, speaking in a very conversational tone.

'Yeah, nice apartment by the way, seems to have been decorated in that boho chic look.' Cordelia had had enough. She hoisted him roughly up by his lapels.

'And what the hell does this have to do with us?' He shook her off and adjusted his coat.

'Because, princess, the woman who owns that apartment would happily pay you to rid her of a certain, irregular problem, that really presents a problem in the acting world.' Her eyes narrowed, slightly from jealously. Cordelia had always wanted to be an actress, but obviously that was out of the question now.

'And what would that be?'

'A vampire stalker.'

'I still don't understand why he had to come along,' grumbled Cordelia from the backseat of Wesley's convertible. 'And why he got shotgun.'

'Called it first your highness,' Doyle said grinning at her over his shoulder.

'What are you anyways some badly dressed superhero?' She snipped. Wesley sighed and veered the car sharply to the left before righting it. Cordelia, who hadn't been wearing her seatbelt and had been thrown unceremoniously to the side, glared at him.

'Hey watch it with the getaway car driving Wesley!'

'Only if you two stop bickering like children,' he replied. Both Doyle and Cordelia began to sulk, but not before she muttered 'he started it' under her breath.

'How am I meant to approach her anyway?' Asked Cordelia suddenly after a five-minute silence, which Wesley had found quite peaceful. 'I can't just go up to a girl and say hi, do you happen to have a pesky undead stalker that needs killing, oh and I charge by the hour?' Doyle once again swiveled in his seat to look at her and stifled a smirk. She was exaggerating wildly with her hands, her thick dark hair blowing in the breeze, eyes bright. Yep, definitely a hottie. She caught him looking.

'Answer, hello!'

But what a bitch.

'You're supposed to get into her life, remember what I told you about mixing with people? Get involved. Look, High School's over, girl. Erupted in flames straight from the gym crash mats. You gotta make with the grown up talk now.' He recovered.

'Get into a soap star's life and ask about a stalker?' She looked to her watcher. 'Wesley help!' He looked at her through the rear view mirror.

'Well we need to devise a plan of action that much is certain, but I'm unsure as to what. Personally Cordelia as you are now a Slayer I feel it's doubly important to show initiative and drive. We can't just dally about...' Wesley's attention was suddenly directed at a passing florist. 'Look a florists that sells Nancy's Petticoat. Oh. They're quite rare. Named for Nancy Mitford, the author. Because of her love for...' he noticed the disbelieving stares coming from both Cordelia and Doyle 'Right. A plan.' Cordelia rolled her eyes.

'How did I get lumbered with you exactly?'

'Exactly how he got lumbered with you,' said Doyle, quite enjoying himself.

'Shut up,' they replied in unison. Wesley was thoughtful.

'The indirect approach is probably better in this situation.'

'Hi,' said Cordelia brightly into the actress's intercom. 'My name's Cordelia Chase and I run a paranormal detective agency, are you in need of help, as in a creepy stalker that the police can't catch, because he's kinda, not human?' Wesley and Doyle shared looks of total exasperation.

There was a pause.

'Come on up.'

Cordelia turned to the men with a wide smirk.

'What was that about the indirect approach Wesley?'