Cordelia had come to this party hoping to make contacts that would help her break into acting. Instead she'd run into, of all things, a vampire.

"How the Hell is this my freaking life?" She demanded of the vampire. "I left Sunnydale to get away from vampires. Not find one while looking for acting opportunities."

"Sunnydale?" The vampire said.

"Yeah, Sunnydale. Home of the Hellmouth. So chock full of vampires, it's got two resident Slayers." She pulled a cross from her pocket. She wasn't an idiot, even if she had hoped never to see a vampire again. "Back off, bloodsucker, I am not vamp bait!" Just as Angel and a short guy broke down the door. Angel was startled to see her. "Cordelia?"

"Well, don't just stand there! Dust this suckers ass. He's already ruined my night, I don't want it getting worse!"

Angel did as she rather forcefully suggested and attacked the other vampire, quickly reducing him to dust.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Trying to find contacts to help me break into acting. Hasn't worked. Instead I ran into not one, but two vampires. You being the other one. What are you doing here?"

"I was trying to protect a girl, that guy killed her, though."

"Why were you trying to protect her?"

"Doyle, here is a messanger for the Powers, higher level beings. They're giving me a purpose, to help people."

"Oh, so you're doing more then just lurking in the shadows and staring longingly at Buffy now? Good to know."

"Yeah, he's started his own detective agency and everything." The guy Angel had called Doyle, said.

"Detective agency?"

"Yeah, it gives him a cover and an excuse for being out at night."

"You hiring? Because I need a job. I could be your secretary. It beats working as a waitress or a clerk in a store."

"Sure." Doyle said. "The more, the merrier and all that jazz."

"Let's talk salary." Cordelia said, following the short Irishman out.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Angel asked, as both of them ignored him. He pseudo-sighed and followed them out.

Cordelia had a lot to say about the space Angel was using as his office.

"So you're going for that hard bitten, thirties detective motif, huh? Complete with the big chested, but not brainlessness, secretary. This place needs some serious attention. What do I got to work with, budget wise to make this look like a place clients are actually going to want to be in?"

"I think it's fine the way it is." Angel protested.

"Yeah, if you want your clients to think your luring them to their death. This place needs color, at the very least curtains or do you want to get flash fried during the day?"

"Can you do it for five hundred dollars?"

"Barely. Give."

"Give?"

"Give me the money. Shopping I can do."

Angel handed over the money to the whirlwind known as Cordelia Chase and watched as she marched out of the door. "Doyle! I need a pack mule! Get your butt in gear!"

Doyle scrambled after her.

"I think I'm in love." Doyle said, as he followed her out of the door.

"I think I'm scared." Angel said to the empty room. "I don't remember her being like that in Sunnydale. Course, I rarely saw her."

Cordelia and Doyle returned two hours later. Doyle looking exhausted and carrying alot of bags. Cordelia set about ordering him and Angel to hang the curtains while she laid out rugs and put flowers in vases.

"It's not me." Angel complained when he saw the results.

"You have all that space downstairs to make 'you'." Cordelia told him. "This space is for the clients. They need to feel comfortable, not more scared. They come here because they're scared, right? If you make it worse, how is that helping?"

"I guess it's not. Fine, we'll try it your way."

"Let this be a lesson to you, Cordelia Chase is rarely wrong."

Later that week, while Angel was haunting singles bars looking for a killer, Doyle asked Cordelia out.

Cordelia eyed him. Physically, he was kinda cute. Definitely not movie star handsome. Kind of awkwardly charming, which had an appeal.

"What did you have in mind?"

"A little Irish bar, that serves dinner. Not fancy, but definitely quality."

"Something different. I'm willing. Pick me up at seven on Friday." She gave him her address and left. She needed a nice outfit, so shopping was in order.

Doyle picked her up right on time and took her to an Irish bar. The food was excellent and the company still awkwardly charming.

"I had a nice time." She told him, when he dropped her off.

"You willing to go out with me again? Maybe try dancing? I'm not great at it, but I know a great club with really good acts."

"Yes, I am. Next week Friday, same time."

"Good. I'll see you Monday, unless we get a client in or I get a vision. Have a nice weekend."

"You too."

Once he left, Cordelia sat thinking. It had been two years since Xander disappeared and it seemed, he was unable to find his way back. She realized she'd been putting her life on hold, waiting for him to come back. It was time to accept that she probably wasn't going to see him again. She missed him, she probably always would. But Doyle was right here in front of her and the possibilities he represented were worth exploring. He was sweet and cute and charming in his way. Feeling satisfied with her decision, Cordelia went to bed. Things were looking up, she had a job, money coming in and a nice guy to get to know. Maybe L.A. was the right move for her. For the first time in two years, Cordelia was looking forward to the future. But his wardrobe had to go, it was as bad as Xander's had been. No worse, definitely worse.