Revenge

He didn’t believe in revenge all that much. It seemed petty, although he could imagine why someone would want revenge on someone else: to right a wrong.
It was sort of like that old saying: an eye for an eye.
But revenge did weird things to people. Doyle saw that first hand. It made passive people angry, it made people who wouldn’t normally do violence enact violence in return a hundredfold.
“Killing him won’t bring him back, princess.” He had grabbed hold of her arm to keep her from rushing headlong into almost certain death.
“I don’t care! He killed…” she gulped and blinked back tears. “He killed Angel.”
“I know,” Doyle replied calmly. But he wasn’t about to say how much he wanted to join Cordelia in killing the enemy. “But we’re going about this the wrong way.” He didn’t know the right way to go about getting revenge.

Breakfast

“Mmm.” Doyle sniffed, grinning as he spotted the box Cordelia brought in. “And what’s that?” Although he knew what it was. It made him leap up off the couch and walk over to the desk where Cordelia had placed the box. “Smells delicious. Let me guess-donuts?”
“And how’d you guess? A vision?”
Doyle opened the box and took in the sight of a cornucopia of donuts—jelly filled, sprinkled, glazed. He licked his lips, aware of how hungry he was. “Thanks.”
Cordelia closed the lid of the box. “They’re for the clients.”
“Oh.”
Cordelia sighed. “Fine. Have one if you like.”
“Thanks for bringing the breakfast, princess.”

Broody

“Stop it!”
Doyle glanced up. Cordelia towered over him, hands on her hips, and she was glaring down at him. He set aside the newspaper. He could see Angel out of the corner of his eye walk into the room from his office and lean against the doorjamb.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Doyle chuckled and he saw Angel quirk his eyebrow up in confusion, to which Doyle shrugged in return.
“I can’t stand both of you. You guys are just so broody. If I didn’t know any better I’d say this was Brood Club, membership limited only to males who brood really well. Do you know how much positive energy you guys are sucking from the room? “
“No.”
“A lot. We need life in here. I don’t want anyone to walk in here and think they’ve stepped into a funeral parlor.”

Deception

Doyle didn’t consider himself to be a conman. Any deception he tried usually involved cards during a game of poker and even then he was always terrible at actually getting away with it. The one time he tricked himself was after he discovered he was half-demon. For some reason, pretending he was entirely human and not a half-demon sounded better than accepting his demon heritage, so he told himself that the half-demon thing wasn’t real and that it didn’t exist and that whole day when he found out about his heritage was just some dream from long ago.
If only he could believe that. No matter how hard he tried to tell himself that, he knew deep in his heart what he was, and it made him hide behind the image of a man who was always down on his luck.

Weapon

“How do you work this thing?” Doyle lifted up the crossbow and mimed aiming it at Angel.
“Hey! Don’t point that at me!”
“Sorry,” Doyle apologized but grinned in spite of himself. “I keep on forgetting. So?”
“So what?”
“Are you going to teach me how to use this?”
“Why?”
“Come on. I can’t keep on morphing between this and my demon side. You know how much energy that takes me to do? I think it’d be more efficient if I could use a weapon during times of danger. ‘Sides, if Cordelia is there then I’d need to use a weapon. Can’t let her knowing I’m half-demon, remember?”
“Fine, I’ll train you. First rule is don’t point the crossbow at me.”

Cashmere

A cashmere sweater. That was the only thing that crossed Doyle’s mind when he wondered what to get Cordelia for her birthday. A sweater. A wool sweater. Did Cordelia own any cashmere sweaters? He’d have to ask.
Or he could just get her the sweater. But what if she didn’t like it? What if she hated it and then hated Doyle for getting it? What if she liked it but hated the color and the shape?
Doyle nervously fingered the sweater, wondering if it was even worth getting it.
In the end, Doyle walked out of the mall without buying a cashmere sweater. He figured perfume would safer to get Cordelia. She loved perfume anyway.

Suffering

He was suffering. It happened almost every day, in fact, that he suffered. He had said to Angel how the past didn’t ever go away and it was true. Every night he wondered if he had done things differently in the past then maybe he wouldn’t be where it was. What if he had been earlier and saved his clan instead of not doing anything at all? What if he hadn’t broken up with Harriet—would he be living in a house with children perhaps? What if he wasn’t half-demon—would he have been oblivious to the underworld that crawled beneath the mortal world?
But Doyle had made his choices, and he suffered the consequences.

Torture

So this was what it felt like getting tortured. It put a new definition in Doyle’s mind, that’s for sure, and he wondered how people could stand it without breaking down and crying. Not that Doyle’s cried so far, but he knew he was getting close to it, as well as breaking down.
His mind buzzed and he could barely make out the shapes in the warehouse. People talked but their voices were hushed and garbled. Everything Doyle did—breathing, blinking, moving—seemed to be in slow motion. Even thinking seemed sluggish.
Then he heard shouting, commotion, and someone pick him up. “I’ve got you, Doyle, don’t worry.”
Angel.

Snuggle

The bed shook briefly and Doyle cracked open one eye to see kids leaning over him, bouncing up and down on the bed as if it were a bouncy castle some of those people got for their kids’ birthday party.
“What?” He mumbled and ran a hand down his face.
“Daddy! Disneyland today, right? You said we’d go!”
Doyle grinned. She sounded just like Cordelia.
“I know. I’ll be up. How about you go play for some time while I get ready?”
The kids yelled in glee as they ran from the room. He felt Harriet snuggle up beside him. “You’re such a good father. And husband.” She kissed his cheek and Doyle closed his eyes at the contact. “I love you, you know.”
“Love you too.”

Heartsick

He knew seeing Harry again would leave him feeling heartsick. He just didn’t expect to get hit with it within seconds of seeing her again. It was sudden and it left him feeling angry at the world for losing her in the first place.
“How long will this last?”
“What this?”
Doyle shrugged a shoulder, leaning against the doorjamb. “This.”
“Oh. Oh!” Cordelia said as she realized what Doyle was referring to. “You’re heartsick?”
“Feels like I just died.”
“It’ll take a couple days. Maybe a week or two. Anything longer than that and it’s something else.” She bit her lower lip and glanced up at Doyle for a brief second. “Listen, how about I get you some dinner?”
“You’d do that for me?”
“I hate to say it, but there’s life without her. You just need to find the right kind of life. So let’s go. I’ll buy.”

Glass

Of course it would break. It was glass. Doyle wondered why he didn’t take that into account in the first place.
And of course it cut him—obviously the shards were sharp. Where’s my mind today?
“What’s wrong?”
“Dropped something.”
“Let me see.”
He could feel Angel peering over his shoulder to see how bad the cut was. Doyle waved his hand nonchalantly. “This? It’s nothing.” The water stung the wound.
“Come on. I’ll fix that up.”
“No need. It’s stopped bleeding, see?” It hadn’t. Angel sighed and grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink, pointing to the chair at the table. Doyle sat reluctantly and waited until Angel fixed up his wound. “You don’t need to baby me, you know.”
“I hate the sight of blood,” Angel replied. “I’ll clean up the rest. I don’t want you cutting yourself again, all right?”

Disappear

He could feel it coming seconds before it actually arrived. It was like he was precognizant of when it would come and then there were only a few seconds to brace himself before a flood of images filled his mind and the pain came ripping through his skull.
He was aware the vision only lasted seconds but they seemed infinitely longer. For a few seconds the world would disappear around him as he fought to gain control of his body. All his senses that kept him in touch with the world seemed to disappear and he was lost to the pain and to the images that flooded his mind.
He never got used to the visions.

Grey
The world was grey. There were buildings topped over, lying half-wrecked on the ground and there was a light spraying mist softening the ground under Doyle’s fist, getting into his eyes and mouth. It only made the world seem more grey than before, if that was even possible.
He couldn’t tell if the city was supposed to be Los Angeles. There were no prominent markers placing him in a city. It was an empty city and the only inhabitant was him. He was alone in the post-apocalyptic grey world.
Doyle suddenly woke up, aware of the pain coursing through his head. Only a dream. It was just a dream.

Forever

Strange how he thought he would live forever. For some reason he had that illusion when he was younger—that he was invincible, that nothing could kill him (only cause him serious harm but not to the point where he died), that he was able to take on the world and the world couldn’t take on him.
All young adults and teenagers thought that—they had this myth built up that because they were young they couldn’t possibly die.
Doyle wanted to tell them how wrong they were. Of course, he was sacrificing his life so that others could continue to live forever. Still—he knew he wouldn’t be living forever.

Alley

“Again with the alley,” Doyle observed. “It seems like every weird and scary creature you meet is in the alley. Why not meet them in a bowling alley or a…a bar?”
“How should I know?” Angel grunted as he took a punch and then a kick from the demon he was fighting. Doyle stood back, sword in hand, prepared to throw it to Angel should he call for it. “It’s not like us creatures of the night put up signs with an arrow pointing down alleyways that read ‘humans to kill this way’. Damn!” the demon had clawed his shoulder.
“Really? ‘Cause I would think they make the alleys their club house. Seems like it sometimes.”
“Sword, Doyle?”
“Oh, yeah.” Doyle did the task he was assigned to do and stood back until Angel killed the demon.

Evil

“He’s evil.”
“I think I know that by now,” Doyle choked out. It was hard to speak with Angel’s hand crushing his esophagus. He grabbed at the hand in a desperate attempt to get enough leeway to breathe in but it was to no avail.
“I was thinking you may have figured it out earlier. Guess you’re not as smart as you look.”
Doyle blocked out Angelus’ mocking words. He’d heard Cordelia’s story about Angelus—he was trying to make Doyle feel bad about himself.
“Don’t see why I’m evil. After all, I’m not the one who left my entire demon clan to get slaughtered.”
“No, that wasn’t…”
“What?”
“It was a long time ago.”
“And yet it still haunts you, doesn’t it?”
At that point Doyle knew that Angel wasn’t there any more, hiding beneath the guise of his true self, the one that spoke the stark truth.

Smirk

Doyle wasn’t in the habit of smirking a whole lot. It was only when something evil happened that he thought the other person deserved that he smirked.
So it happened that when he was fighting a vampire that as soon as he staked it that he smirked. “Put that in your pipe and smoke it, yeah?”
“Enough with the puns, Doyle.”
Doyle frowned. “But I was just…did you tell Angel about that one time?”
“When you mimed killing the vampire with the crossbow? Nope. Not yet.” The way she said those words made Doyle cautious.
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna use it for blackmail. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was thinking that afternoon. It was the adrenaline talking.”
“Sure,” Cordelia said, drawing the word out, as if she still didn’t believe him.

Reason

“Do I need a reason? I’m taking you out for dinner and suddenly you think it’s the end of the world which, by the way, as you can clearly see, it’s not.”
“It’s just…weird.” Cordelia did look out of place wearing a silky green dress in a three-star restaurant/bar. Of course, not as out of place as Doyle looked. He had chosen to go with a suit and tie for the evening, finally ditching the tie at the last minute because he hated the way it wrapped around his throat. Or something like that. Either way, it was uncomfortable for him.
“Okay, the reason for this is because it’s the first anniversary.”
“First anniversary of what?”
“When Angel Investigations opened.”
Suddenly Angel came up to the table and sat down. “Sorry I’m late. Had some things to take care of. What’s for dinner?”

Sacrifice

Doyle didn’t positively know for sure, he had suspicion that Angel was the type of character who would sacrifice his life to save his comrades. That was a trait that Doyle admired greatly, only because his own trait of sacrificing his life fell up massively short against Angel’s.
Then again, maybe that had something to do with the fact that Angel was a vampire and immortal. He lived a longer life so far, whereas Doyle was in his mid-twenties.
But Doyle knew that when the time came Angel couldn’t sacrifice his life. He had too much to do. Why else would the Powers That Be send Doyle to him? If the time ever came, Doyle would have to sacrifice his life for Angel.

Home

It was Christmas. For some reason the holiday always made Doyle depressed. He knew his mom was back visiting relative in Ireland and he couldn’t exactly drudge up enough funds to cover a hop across the pond via plane.
Harry had always decorated the house in bright lights and colored foil and was always eager to decorate the tree to her liking. Doyle glared at the tiny little stump of a Christmas tree at the base of the window as if he was blaming it for not being big enough to be a real Christmas tree.
“Doyle! You home? Of course you probably are, it’s morning,” Cordelia said exasperatedly as she walked into the room. “Merry Christmas! I brought by some breakfast. Okay, it’s Krispy Kreme, but it’s better than nothing, right?”
At that moment everything seemed like home to him.

Betrayal

“How’re you doing?”
It had been quite a shock, to discover that he was really a half-demon and that half of his family were demons. It wasn’t something he was expecting when his mother said she had to tell him something about his father. In fact, it was so far from what he was expecting. He had always thought his dad had died when he was younger. Part of him wished that was true.
“Doing okay,” Doyle answered with a shrug. It still felt as if his dad betrayed him—he didn’t know why he thought that but that’s what he felt like. As if his entire life was a lie and the revelation ruined the entire life he had been living up until that point.
“I’ll always be here for you.”
But she wouldn’t understand the betrayal.

Shadow

“This is a dog. I think.”
Cordelia sighed heavily, probably out of shear boredom. Angel suppressed a chuckle.
“And this…actually, that’s all I know.”
“You know, we don’t have to do shadow puppets. There are better things to do with the power out.”
“What are you talking about? Shadow puppets are fun!”
“Says the man who taught third grade.”
“Fine, what do you suggest we do?”
“Well,” Cordelia started as she grabbed her belongings from the desk, “I suggest that I go home so I don’t have to stay and watch the shadow dog. I mean the least you can do is try to do other animals besides a dog.”
“I swear I know other animals beside a dog. I just forgot how to do them.” Doyle stared at his hands, as if that would help him remember how to form the other creatures.

Flowers

He knew flowers wouldn’t really make up for all the grief he had caused her, but it was the only thing that he could think of at the moment.
Truly, he didn’t know why he really bothered. He could see where they were going and where they marriage was going and no matter how much he wanted to bury his head in the figurative sand and ignore it, it was very impossible to brush aside.
They were talking less, for a start, and there were more fights than there used to be. Sure, they had their little squabbles in the past, but they always made up that night. Now there would be tension between them that would last a week.
And, just like Doyle predicted, the flowers didn’t work. Harry only glanced over them once and sighed, shaking her head slightly.

Fall

He didn’t want to fall. Not from quite such a height. But there was no where else to go and he was backed up against the edge of the building. It was either fall and possibly get seriously injured or get killed by a vampire. Talk about getting stuck between a rock and a hard place, he thought.
“Do you really want to do this?”
The vampire growled in response. Doyle backed up more, his heels now slightly over the edge. He didn’t want to risk looking down. He’d only get more frightened. All he had to do was delay the inevitable long enough for Angel to rescue him.
“I think we can come to an understanding, yeah?”
The vampire lunged and Doyle turned, feeling his feet come out from under him. He wondered how long the fall would take before he hit the ground.

Hidden

There weren’t that many places to hide in the offices, but luckily Doyle found a place to hide safely. It was in the basement and it smelled disgusting but he was pretty confident he wouldn’t be found.
Really, the demon creature with the wings had appeared so suddenly it took Doyle about a minute to realize what was happening. That was too long to help Angel—he was dead now. Cordelia had screamed and run to the elevator and had already hit the button. Doyle had to take the stairs.
The footsteps made the ceiling shake. Doyle shivered. Okay, he had found the place after the one time when that Russell guy’s hand pulled him there. He knew Angel had used it to escape to the sewers. He just hoped it kept him safely hidden from harm.

Love

Okay, he loved Cordelia. That much he was sure of. But her taking him out for coffee just because he saved her life—that felt like something akin to a date.
“Is this a date or something?”
“It’s a thank you. For saving my life the other night.”
“It was nothing.”
“No, really, thank you, Doyle. Very much. I don’t say that to just about anyone.”
“I could have guessed that,” Doyle said, sipping at his drink. “Still feels like a date to me.”
Cordelia laughed. “Oh, stop. If it was do you really think I’d take you out for coffee? We’d probably go see a movie or something. Or maybe have dinner at a restaurant.”
Doyle figured there was no easy way to tell Cordelia that he loved her. It wasn’t until the next week when they actually went out for dinner that Doyle confessed his feelings to her.

Celebration

“So. I did it.”
Angel raised a brow. “Did what now?”
Doyle grinned sheepishly and scuffed his feet on the floor. “Asked her to marry me. Cordy.”
“And?”
At this point Doyle’s grin grew into a smile. “She said yes. Which, by the way, came as a great relief to me because I don’t know what I would have done otherwise, let me tell you. It was just so nerve wracking. Almost as much, if not more, than when I asked Harry to marry me.”
“That’s great.” Angel nodded. “We should celebrate.”
“How?”
“How about drinks at a bar?”
Doyle shook his head. “Promised to her I’d cut back drinking.”
“Oh. It still calls for celebration. Maybe a party? Dinner at a restaurant? I’ll buy.”

Beginnings

This was a new chapter in his life—new beginnings for both him and Cordelia. Doyle felt nervous. “I look okay, yeah?” he asked Angel as he ran his hands cautiously over the very expensive but nicely cut suit.
Angel walked over to Doyle. “The bowtie’s a little wacky,” he observed as he fixed it for Doyle. “Other than that, you look good. Stop being so nervous.”
“Haven’t you ever gotten married before? No, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know.”
“Well, I was going to say in a way I did, but not like this. We didn’t exactly have a hundred people watching us. In fact, we mostly just slaughtered them.”
Doyle looked at Angel pointedly. “Not at all calming me down, man.”
“Sorry.”
“Well,” Doyle sighed, “here’s to new beginnings.”

Laughter

Doyle felt so nervous that he could laugh. It was the only way to ease the tension he felt. He mounted the steps and stood alone awkwardly at the front of the altar, aware of all the eyes that were turned toward him. He could feel Angel standing beside him, him being the best man and all. For a minute he panicked, wondering if Angel.
“You do have the ring, right?” he whispered to Angel.
Angel nodded. “I do. Stop being so nervous.”
“You just get married one day and do all this. Why could we have just eloped?”
“I don’t know. Why couldn’t you?”
Doyle laughed breathlessly and nervously. “I don’t know. Cordelia wanted this, really.”

Kiss

Cordelia had looked so beautiful walking down the aisle. Doyle couldn’t keep his eyes off her at all. And now she stood facing him and Doyle was just itching to get to the part where he kissed her.
Sure, they kissed before, but for Doyle the next kiss would be the ‘official’ kiss that would seal the marriage, figuratively. He had explained this all to Cordelia before and she just laughed at him. She wasn’t nervous at all. She loved being the center of attention.
He slipped the ring onto her finger and waited for the words to be spoken until he finally gave her the ‘official’ kiss.

Fanmix 1: Loved You From the Start: Doyle/Harry Fanmix
Fanmix 2: Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For: Doyle Fanmix
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