Dude, I didn't realize how long it's been since I posted. My bad for keeping you ppl waiting. I hope you like.
"With Some Scoobies on the Side Series"
By: Lynn
DISCLAIMERS: Duh guys! Nothing's mine!
DISTRIBUTION: You ask me, I ask you... you know the process.
SUMMARY: This is a re-write of most of the Angel episodes with the Scoobies in the mix. Whoohoo! This is gonna be fun!
SPOILERS: I guess the beginning of Ats.
IMPORTANT A/N: Okay, so during the Ascension thing, Angel didn't tell Buffy he wasn't saying goodbye, and the whole "one last look by the fire trucks" thing didn't happen. And Faith didn't go all psycho. In my story, her association with the mayor was just a decoy.
"Room with a View"
Part 1
"Wow."
Heavily panting, Buffy flopped down on Angel's comfy bed, the vampire following right after her. Although it was totally unnecessary, Angel was also breathing hard, but only from the exertion of the intense experience the two just shared.
"That was...," Buffy couldn't finish her sentence, unable to describe the previous events.
"Yeah," Angel replied, understanding her completely. He propped himself on his side so he was facing her. After brushing off a few of her blonde hairs that were matted to her forehead, he suggested with a smirk, "You wanna go again?"
Buffy giggled and gathered what was left of her strength to sit up. "I think that's enough for today. We've been going at it for a couple hours now. Giles didn't even work me this hard."
Angel's smirk became more devilish, "Giles doesn't have half the stamina I do, baby."
His girlfriend rolled her eyes. "You have testosterone issues." She then wrinkled her nose, thinking about their conversation and how it sounded. "Wait, we're talking about training, right?"
"What else would we be talking about," he shrugged innocently, his trademark grin still in place.
Buffy playfully glared at him. "Gutter face," she muttered before leaning in and capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.
"I'm telling you, Will," Buffy said to her red headed friend as they walked through the crowded mall the next day, "Our training sessions keep getting more and more intense each time."
"Maybe you two are getting better at your fighting techniques," Willow suggested.
"Maybe, but I think it's something more than that. It's just like our training sessions we used to have at the mansion, only more... intense."
Willow grinned, "You said that already."
"I know, but I don't know how else to describe it. After he came back from hell, and we knew what would happened if we... you know, there was so much built up tension that we vented through sparring. Do you think that can be it?"
"Well, it's been over a month since he told you about his soul, and you're at his house every other night, why would there be any tension?" Buffy blushed and looked at the tile floor they were walking on. Her best friend's eyes widened in realization and her jaw dropped.
"You two haven't... yet," Willow's voice was lowered so other patrons couldn't hear their conversation. Buffy shook her head negatively to answer her question. "Why? I mean, what do you guys do when you stay overnight if not that?"
"We decided to take things slow. We talk... and other stuff. It's nice, but... is it bad that I want more than nice?"
"Of course it's not bad. You guys have been through a lot. You two deserve more than nice."
The blonde slayer smiled. "Good, then you can help me pick out an outfit for tonight." She then proceeded to drag the blushing Willow into Victoria's Secret.
"I've had it with these cheap trash bags! They leak and break and end up costing us more," the two girls heard from Cordelia as they walked in the office that night. Buffy ignored the drama queen and smiled at Doyle as she walked passed them and into her boyfriend's private office.
After her horribly acted out line, Cordelia dropped the torn, white trash bag she held to the floor.
"I believe it," Doyle, who was standing in front of her told her.
"Yeah, it was a great audition," Cordelia exclaimed, "I was all about things leaking. How could they not pick me?"
"They don't know what they're missing."
The phone started to ring, but was ignored by the brunette secretary as she continued to vent.
"They gave it to a blonde that showed up in a skintight leather cat suit. She is supposed to be a housewife. She looked ridiculous. She looked like cat woman taking out the cat trash."
"Are you going to answer that," Willow questioned Cordelia as the phone continued to ring.
"Good question," Angel said stepping out of the office. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. Buffy came up behind him and slipped into his embrace. Both of them had irritation clearly written on their faces.
"Oh, yeah, right," Cordelia headed to her desk, but the ringing ended when the answering machine turned on, "Oh, the machine got it." She just shrugged it off and sat down, adding to her boss's annoyance.
"Hey Cordy. It's Aura!" Much to everybody's surprise, Cordelia didn't pick up the phone immediately to talk to her friend from Sunnydale. "Just wanted to check in you know, see how you were doing. Oh, you would not believe what's going on in Sunnydale!"
As the girl rambled on, on the machine, Angel rolled his eyes at the lack of importance of the phone call and went back inside his office, taking Buffy with him.
"Remind me again why I hired her," Angel requested from Buffy, gazing down at her and holding her closer.
"Because even though it's not working, you still have a good heart."
"Hmm," Angel rested his forehead against Buffy's, "that's my curse," he joked.
She gently smiled and played with is soft, brown hair, "No, thankfully that's gone."
Angel returned the smile lovingly and kissed down from her forehead and to her willing lips. Their kiss remained sweet and loving. With one more brief kiss they separated. Angel went to his chair and continued the book he was reading before Buffy entered, and his slayer sat right next to him with a text book she brought in front of her.
"Bye Buffy! Bye Angel! I'm taking off," Cordelia's voice rang out as she exited the office's front door.
A second later, Willow walked in, followed by Doyle. The redhead grabbed a chair and sat next to her best friend, beginning a quiet conversation. Doyle opted to sit in front of Angel's desk, propping his feet on top of the wood surface.
For a second, Angel's eyes fleeted from his book to look at the offending boots on his desk. He remained silent though, and went back to reading.
"She's really something isn't she," Doyle said, breaking the silence between the two men, "It's like wrestling a tiger just to get to know her." Angel continued to read and ignore the half demon, but he was persistent. "Tell me stuff."
Angel finally tore himself away from his book and looked at Doyle with question, "What stuff?"
"About Cordelia."
"Well I-I know she can't type or file," he told him thoughtfully, "Until today I had some hope regarding the phone."
Doyle shook his head negatively and turned towards the two girls.
"Never mind. Can you two tell me stuff about Cordelia?"
Buffy shrugged. "I can tell you things about the past three years, but Willow's known her since grade school."
"What do you want to know," Willow asked Doyle.
"Who's Aura," he chose to go with.
Willow scoffed and rolled her eyes. "One of Cordelia's friends from Sunnydale. They followed her around like a pack of flying monkeys. They were called the 'Cordettes'. Their source of entertainment was to make people who actually have a mind of their own go crazy with the constant teasing and belittling. I mean, they're lucky that I'm a good person or that I didn't discover magicks before I met Buffy or else they all would've woken up one day with boils o-or a tail…"
"Will," Buffy interrupted, effectively ending Willow's ramblings.
"Um, sorry. My stuff," the red head apologized.
Buffy sympathetically patted Willow's hand before she picked up where Willow trailed off. "They were a bunch of girls from wealthy families. They ruled the high school. Decided what was in, who was popular."
"It was like the Soviet secret Police if they cared a lot about shoes," Angel added in. He placed his book on his desk, knowing he wouldn't be able to get back to it anytime soon.
"And she was the richest one of all," Doyle concluded, "Because the way she talks, it sounds like she had servants made of solid gold or something."
"Pretty much. Until her parents lost it all. Riches to rags."
"One hell of a come down."
"Yeah, but she's doing all right."
After Doyle left a little while later, Buffy and Willow exchanged secretive looks behind Angel's back and nodded at each other, signaling that their plan would start right at that moment.
"Uh… Angel," Willow said, getting the vampire's attention, "You know how I've been practicing my magicks?"
Angel nodded and replied, "Yeah."
"You wanna see it?" Buffy tried to hide her giggles with her hand at her friend's lame way of stalling. When Angel turned his head to look at her, the slayer straightened up and pursed her lips, holding back her laughter.
"Uh, yeah, sure."
As Willow reached into her bag to retrieve one of her spell books, Buffy rose from her chair.
"Well, I'm gonna go downstairs and set up for a late night workout," Buffy declared. Her double entendre was only understood by her and Willow.
"Okay," Angel said, "You don't need any help?"
"Angel, if I could fight vampires and demons on a nightly basis, a couple of couches and mats should be a no-brainer."
"Alright, um, we shouldn't be long, right," he turned to Willow.
"Oh, yeah. I have this stuff down. I'll be ten minutes, tops." When Angel looked back at Buffy, the rookie Wicca winked at her best friend and mouthed "twenty."
Angel let out a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his eyes as he walked down the stairs to his apartment.
Willow's simple magic demonstration had taken longer than expected. In attempt to show Angel her "really pretty rose petal" trick she had "accidentally" conjured up some bunnies, and then multiplied them when she tried to make them disappear.
Once they finally managed to make the flocks of bunnies go back to wherever they came from, Willow mumbled her apology with barely contained giggles, and dashed out of the office after she gave him a quick hug. Her actions made him a little suspicious that she was up to something.
When he stepped into the apartment, the smell of burning vanilla candles and the sound of soft, romantic jazz music came to his attention.
"Buffy," he called out, looking around curiously. The lights in his apartment were turned off, but there was a dim glow of lights coming from his bedroom.
His path towards his room seemed to take forever. When he reached his destination, what he saw were lit candles scattered about the room, but no Buffy.
He called out for his girlfriend again and waited for her to enter the obvious scene of seduction.
A second later, the woman responsible for making his libido go crazy emerged from the bathroom. His arousal increased ten fold when he laid his eyes on his girlfriend who was leaning seductively against the doorframe.
All she wore was a black, lacy bra and panty set, both of them leaving little to the imagination. She also had on a sheer kimono open and hanging by her elbows. His eyes traveled down her long, smooth legs which were defined by her black stilettos.
"Wh-What's…," was all he was able to get out, thrown off guard by these turn of events.
"I thought we could work out a bit differently tonight," she explained in a voice that made him want to bend to her every will.
Her seductive smirk wavered a bit under Angel's gaze. His silent scrutiny was making her a little self-conscience.
Finally the vampire found his voice and said, "I thought we were going to take it slow."
Buffy stepped closer to Angel until she was pressed up against his muscular body, his arms wrapping around her instinctively.
"We've been taking it slow ever since you were brought back to me," she informed him while rubbing her hands over his chest, making it a little difficult to pay attention to what she was saying, "That was over a year ago. I'm done with slow."
After a few moments that seemed to last forever for Buffy, Angel smoothed his hand through her long, blonde hair and grinned. He leaned in for a kiss and lead her back to the bed.
While he hovered over her and ran his hand over her body, he commented huskily, "Sometimes slow could be good. I'll show you."
Meanwhile, Cordelia finally made it to her dump of an apartment.
When she got her door open, her keys stuck in the lock, much to her annoyance. After she yanked them out, she bumped her elbow hard on the door frame.
"Ouch! Damn it," she cursed.
She switched on the dim light, and they flickered before staying on. She went to her "kitchen" to get herself a glass of water. Instead of the clean, clear water that was expected, a gunky, brown liquid gushed out of the faucet and splattered her white blouse, adding more to her crap-filled day.
She set the glass down and muttered, "Yeah, well, of course."
Cordy made her way to her living room, plopped down on the lumpy couch, and turned on the lamp to add a little more light to the apartment.
She clicked on the TV, only to find a huge cockroach crawling on the snowy screen. She groaned in disgust and picked up the phone to call the manager of the building.
"Hello? Hi, this is Cordelia Chase from apartment 4B," two more cockroaches joined the other one on the TV, "I thought you were going to have the exterminator in here today?… Well, if he had, don't you think there would be…" She put her foot down on the floor and heard a crunch come from the bottom of her shoe. She looked down and found her carpet littered with dead bugs.
"Ah, oh God! Ahh," she screamed and jumped, slamming down the phone.
The bugs were the last straw. She remembered Doyles' offer to stay over at his apartment, and being as desperate as she was, she flipped through her address book to find his number.
The loud knocking on Angel's metal, sliding door interrupted the activities going on in the shower, no matter how much the two tried to ignore it.
Angel apologized to his lover and stumbled out of the shower. He grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his waist, not bothering to dry himself off.
He rushed out of the bathroom, a billow of steam following in his wake, to answer the continuous knocking and turn away the person who dared to interrupt his and Buffy's night.
"Alright, alright," he mumbled before opening the door.
Cordelia stood on the other side and immediately stepped in without an invitation. She instantly shoved a couple of suitcases into his arms, and with a grunt, he struggled to hold the bags and keep his towel on at the same time.
"Oh God Angel! It's so terrible," Cordelia cried dramatically, "Oh my gosh," she turned around and held up her hands, "Don't even look at me! I am such a mess. I am the lowest of the lowest," she pointed to the open door she entered, "and you're going to want to get my other suitcase out there in the hall."
Angel glanced in the direction she gestured to and then back at Cordelia, who turned to the record player still playing Buffy's romantic music and moved the needle to shut it off. He opened his mouth to question why she was here when he heard his love's voice as she entered the room.
"Cordelia, you're here," Buffy stated, sounding a bit miffed. She was wearing Angel's red robe and her hair was still wet from the interrupted shower. She stood next to Angel and eyed the bags he juggled in his arms. "With luggage… Why?"
The usually well-groomed brunette glared at Buffy. "I'm sorry that I barged in on Sex-fest '99, but there are dire circumstances in this world that need to be taken care of."
"Like what?"
"My apartment! It's like the barrio- or the projects or whatever, and I live there! I'm the girl from the projects!"
Angel almost dropped one of the bags as he shared a look with his girlfriend, who helped him out and took one of the bags. She didn't want him to accidentally drop his towel drop and give the drama queen a free show of his goods.
"What? I don't know about that," Angel said.
"Get this. I tried to call Doyle. I have sunk that low. And there was no answer. So, here I am. Not that you're the last resort. It's just I have nowhere else left to go. I would've gone to your apartment, Buffy, but I don't know where it is."
She sat down and looked at the couple staring at her. Cordelia didn't seem to care that she interrupted something between the two.
Buffy set down the suitcase she held on the floor. "If I told you, would you leave," Buffy asked, not even trying to hide how annoyed she was.
Cordelia gazed at her incredulously, "Why would I do that if I just have to be back here in the morning?" Buffy was about to retort when Cordy decided to continue on with her rant about her crap-hole of an apartment.
"Roaches. Live ones, dead ones. All skinny feet and creepy antlers," she emphasized it by holding two fingers on both sides of her head.
"Antlers," Angel repeated.
"Oh my God! I wonder how many stowed away in that bag?" The other two nervously looked at the suitcase by Buffy's feet and the one Angel still held in his arms. "Also, the water is all brown and spurty, not hot! I am dying for a shower."
'Yeah,' Buffy thought, 'well, I'm dying to finish mine.'
"I," Cordelia continued, "actually smell. Smell me. I never smell. I didn't know I could. I'm just going to have to stay here until I can find a decent place, however long that takes, and when I do you are completely invited over. You can just dump my stuff on the couch, because if you think I'll sleep on the bed where you two got sweaty, you got another thing coming. Also, my suitcase is still out in the hall."
Throughout her rambling and self-invite, Buffy and Angel stared at her with open mouths, not sure with what to say. Cordelia ignored their stares and shouldered one of her bags.
"Your shower is here, right? You have mousse," Cordelia glanced at Angel's dripping wet hair, "Of course you do."
Without another word, Cordy disappeared into the previously abandoned bathroom, leaving Angel and Buffy scratching their heads.
"Well," Buffy sighed and crossed her arms, "So much for our night."
Angel finally put down the bag he was holding. He took a step closer towards the pouting slayer and rubbed his hands up and down her arms.
"Yeah, but we have plenty of nights ahead of us," he placed a kiss on her forehead and pulled her into his embrace. His statement brought a bright smile to her face.
Buffy looked up at him with her arms tightly around his waist.
"At least we got to do it once before Her Majesty Cordelia graced us with her presence," she said, causing both of them to burst out into laughter.
They leaned in towards each other. Their lips only touched for a brief second when Cordelia's voice rang out from the bedroom.
"I better not see anything above a G-rating when I get out!"
Buffy and Angel rolled their eyes and separated.
"My gosh. It's like having an overgrown child," Buffy groaned and shuffled into the bedroom to tidy up a bit.
The next morning, Doyle unlocked the office door and stepped in with a panicked look in his eye. As he checked his watch, he saw the dark purple bruise on his right hand, a reminder of how much trouble he was in.
When Doyle got home from Angel Investigations the night before, he had a little run in with a demon who was collecting for one of the many people he owed money to.
Luckily, he got away when he used the drawer the demon slammed his hand in as a weapon. The whole night consisted of a violent version of hide and go seek.
He took the elevator to Angel's apartment and called out for him. He traveled to the kitchen and found Cordelia sitting at the table in a white bathroom robe. She was combing her fingers through her wet hair while looking at her reflection through a metal teapot.
"Hey Doyle," she greeted him. "You ever get that feeling that you just can't shower enough? Like something's happened and you're never going to get clean?"
Angel walked in the kitchen at that moment, followed closely by a disheveled looking Buffy. The well built vampire had on his black boxers and the robe Buffy had on last night, while the slayer wore her boyfriend's black silk shirt.
He came up behind Doyle and held up one hand to Cordy.
"You got peanut butter on the sheets," Angel claimed.
"Really," Cordy responded while Doyle stared back and forth in shock at the three, "I don't think so." Angel held up his hand as proof and Cordelia stood up from her chair, "I'll look."
After Cordelia exited the kitchen, Buffy made her way around the gaping Irish man and plopped down in Cordelia's seat.
"No, no, no, no, no," Doyle spoke up, "Angel man, how could you?"
"How what," Angel followed Buffy's path and stood behind her after wiping his hands on a dish towel.
"Man you know I was crazy about her, and I was wearing her down, too. But no, handsome, brooding vampire guy has to swoop in, all sensitive mouth and overhanging forehead," Angel frowned and touched his aforementioned body part. "How about leaving some scraps for the homely looking fellas who don't already have a girl to keep him warm; a beautiful slayer not to mention. She should be more than enough for you."
Buffy's mouth dropped open and she glared angrily at Doyle when she figured out immediately what he was insinuating.
"Okay, first of all, you are a sleaze and so deluded if you think that I would share Angel with anyone, especially Cordelia, and second of all, she slept on the couch last night because something's wrong with her place."
Doyle glanced over at the couch with sheets haphazardly thrown on it. "Oh," the couple raised their eyebrows at him, "that's okay I suppose."
"Angel," Cordelia said when she walked back in fully dressed, "at some point in the recent history YOU got peanut butter on the sheets, and it's gross. In the 20th century we call it a 'washing machine.' Use it."
"I don't eat," Angel replied.
"Well there is another person here that does eat and I don't see you accusing her."
Buffy turned her killer glare toward Cordelia, "I actually clean up after myself. I didn't do it."
"Well, then, I don't even want to know how it got there."
The slayer scoffed and rolled her eyes. She got up from the chair and grumbled incoherently all the way to the bedroom with Angel at her heels.
Cordy reclaimed her seat and began to brush her hair out.
"Hey, Cordy, you look great by the way," Doyle stated.
"I wouldn't know. The man doesn't even have a mirror. Like it would kill him not to see himself?"
Doyle laughed and was about to remind her about Angel's situation, but decided against it.
"Listen, I was wondering if anybody called lately? Maybe asking about me or maybe wanting my address?"
"Oh, yeah. Yesterday your cousin called with one of those names from your part of England."
Doyle gazed at her strangely. "My part of England?"
"Conner or Fergus… did he find you?"
He sighed, "Yeah, he did, all right. But you see, a little ah- warning might have been nice, give a fella a chance to neat the place up, you know?"
Cordelia just stared at him. "Geez, I just helped the guy as a favor to you," she stood up from her chair and walked to the sink, "Maybe next time I won't bother."
"Well it's not like you even have to pick up the phone. You just let your friend Aura hang there."
"Ok, here's an idea," she walked back to Doyle and set her glass of clear water on the table, "How about you make me a list of people you're too good to talk to."
Angel came back in still in his robe and boxers. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Doyle said, "just…"
"You got a bruise on your hand," Angel stated.
Doyle glanced at the large purple welt. "Badminton."
"And the reason there is a wet towel on my leather chair?" He picked up the yellow towel and looked accusingly at Cordelia, who just gave him a smile full of guilt.
Angel dropped the offending object back down and left the room more irritated than before.
A little later on, Doyle was still in Angel's kitchen, watching Cordelia tear into Angel's vinyl floor.
"Doyle you down here," Buffy called out as she came down the stairs from the office. "Oh, there you are. There's a big guy there to see you. I'll tell him you'll be right up."
Panic washed over Doyle's face. "Oh, that's great."
Buffy nodded and headed back up the stairs. As soon as the slayer was out of sight, Doyle made a mad dash out the back door. When he burst through another set of doors, he ran straight into Angel, and Buffy stepped up behind him, both with serious looks on their faces.
"You know it's not nice to trick people," Doyle told them in a shaky voice.
"You're going to tell us what's going on," Angel asked him, but Doyle knew it was more of a statement.
"You don't even know who this demon is collecting for," Buffy said, the three of them were gathered outside of the office.
"All right, look, here's how it works: I owe some people- other people owe me. I do a favor for some guy and the debt goes away. It's a system of checks and balances."
"And some of your checks didn't balance," Angel summed up.
"Well it'll work out. It just takes a little diplomacy- the kind of thing you two are so good at actually. Say, maybe one of you couldn't mind taking a crack at it?"
"We all have problems," Angel said with a sigh, "It's a matter of priorities. And at the moment I've got a bigger one than you do."
"Bigger than a Kailiff demon?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Much. I'm thinking you can help with Angel's and maybe we can help you with yours."
"I don't know, man. I mean, what's your problem, exactly? Because you know, vampire business is…"
The sound of Cordelia clearing her throat interrupted the conversation, and all eyes turned toward the guilty looking brunette.
"Hi," Cordy greeted with a smile and waved. "I was just wondering if you had any linoleum glue- for if it started curling up all over.
"I'll be there in a minute," Angel told her, keeping his anger in check.
"Okay." As Cordy turned to leave, Buffy gave Doyle a look that said, "See what I mean?"
"Find her an apartment and we'll deal with your demon," Angel negotiated with Doyle, making it a done deal.
On the couple's insistence, Doyle took Cordelia apartment hunting later on that day. Willow had just entered the office before they left, and was a bit surprised when Cordelia dragged her right back out the door to tag along with them.
The three followed the landlord of the first building they went to, down a murky hallway.
"You know," Doyle said, "I wish you would just let me call my guy."
Cordelia skimmed the newspaper she was holding and responded with, "I'm not going to get an apartment through 'some guy'. He probably judges the property value on how far the bus ride is to the track."
Doyle took a look around the area and sarcastically commented, "Well, it can't get any worse than this, can it?"
"You can't tell anything from the hallway."
The bald landlord with a cigar let them in the apartment and suddenly, Cordelia's "Don't judge a book by it's cover" attitude died quickly.
The apartment was tiny and made her former place look like a room from the Hilton Hotel. The walls and floors were dirty and the furniture looked as if they've seen their last days.
"Hey, you're right," Doyle smartly stated, "You know what I smell in here," at Cordelia's look, he said, "Potential."
Willow examined the room, trying to find a silver lining, "Well, you know, if you made a few repairs and spruced the place up a bit," she suddenly dropped the act and grimaced in disgust when she took a closer look around, "this place would still be cramped and disgusting. Let's go… please."
Cordelia wrapped her arms around herself. "The next one will be better," she stated hopefully.
The brunette couldn't have been more wrong. After a building owned by a cult and then a nice apartment with a perverted manager, Cordelia finally gave in to Doyle's offer to help her out.
It only took Doyle one phone call to find Cordelia the place of her dreams.
As soon as the realtor lady opened the door, Cordelia fell in love with the place. It had more room than she could've imagined. It was furnished with things that didn't even look like it was touched. The whole place looked bright and clean, and she was sure that the water was clear and chunky-free.
"Oh my gosh," she gasped, "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"
She stepped into the apartment in awe.
"No never," Doyle replied while staring at her back with a sparkle in his eye. Willow saw his look and grinned at him.
"This place is awesome, Cordelia," Willow gushed. "If I didn't already have an apartment, I'd take it."
After a quick look around and a very brief questioning with what was wrong with it, the realtor left to fill out the rental forms so Cordelia could claim the place as hers.
"First thing, I hire someone to take out that wall." Cordy waved to the white painted wall separating the dining room from the living room.
"I thought you said it was perfect," Willow said.
"Yes, and part of being perfect is that there being one tiny flaw for me to fix."
"Ah, must be why you find me so fascinating," Doyle said.
Cordy just laughed in response. She was too giddy to throw him one of her sharp remarks.
"Oh my gosh, I love my apartment. Your guy found the perfect place," she hugged Doyle and squealed, "I love your guy!"
"Yeah, well, it's a pretty good day's work for us, I think. I take care of your problem; Buffy and Angel takes care of mine. All in all things are pretty sweet."
Cordy took his arm and lead him out with Willow right next to them. "Yes! And I can move right in."
"And the good thing is," Willow added as they walked out the door, "there aren't any herds of roaches and you don't have to worry about some creep watching you as you sleep."
When they left, a bulge in the shape of a face appeared in the wall that Cordelia planned to tear down.
TBC…