Chapter 5
Authors: Beth & Ellen
Rating: NC-17 (overall story)
Spoilers: none
Summary: Angel, Cordelia and Doyle begin to realize some of the further implications of their bond.
Disclaimer: The characters of Angel, Doyle and Cordelia re the property of 20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and others. No ownership is claimed and no copyright infringement is intended.
Thoughts between Angel, Doyle and Cordelia are marked //like this.//
Cordelia sighed, flipping through the latest issue of Cosmo. It was so odd, not having the familiar buzz of Doyle and Angel's minds in her own. Even when they weren't talking to one another, the presence was there, ever so faint. Then there were times when it was almost overwhelming. All in all, she preferred that to being by herself.
She wasn't one who minded being by herself, it was just so difficult being completely alone anymore. She had gotten used to the feeling of her lovers always with her, even if they weren't in the same room. The three were always in one another's minds, some times more so than others. Cordelia Chase had never thought she would get used to this, constantly being around someone. But now it was such a wonderfully comforting feeling, one of being loved completely. She wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
The magazine didn't hold her interest for long and ended up being tossed onto the desk with a light thud. The brunette cast a glance out the window, lost in thought. So much had happened since moving from Sunnydale. The spoiled little rich girl she had been there seemed like another person's life. Another lifetime, period. A life that a stranger had stumbled through, not her. After all, how could she have changed so completely?
Of course, who would have thought she end up with a life like the one she now had? Not a single person in her hometown and certainly not Cordelia herself.
She looked down at the claddagh ring on her hand with a small smile. It was still so unbelievable, in a way. Like some incredibly brilliant dream that faded as soon as the sun rose. That had yet to happen and Cordelia was more than grateful. She wouldn't know how to live the life she had before now. That seemed so completely far away.
She tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair, wanting to open the link in her mind to the men waiting downstairs but didn't. This was a small test, time they all needed to be alone with themselves, to know that the thoughts floating through their own minds belonged to them, so that they would not let their distinct personalities just become a meld of the three individuals. It was a hard thing to do and Cordelia was determined that she would not break before at least an hour was up. She had only been by herself for thirty minutes, if that. What was there to do now, though?
She looked over at the computer on the desk, an idea forming. She had been meaning to look up certain information in that 'Demons, Demons, Demons' database. Vampires were something she knew, due to growing up in Sunnydale, not to mention the whole hanging out with Buffy thing. Whether one wanted to or not, they would get a decent education on vampires being around a Slayer. Brachen demons, on the other hand, were a different matter. She didn't know that much about them, other than what they looked and smelled like. Doyle wasn't going to tell her much, that much she knew. And Cordelia wanted to know all about her lovers, no matter what it was.
There certainly was no better time to snoop a little. Cordy pulled the chair closer to the desk and started the search.
Maybe she would find something interesting about the sexual habits of Brachens. After all, what good was a demon database unless it also functioned as an 'intra-demon dating base'? She laughed softly to herself.
She began humming a song under her breath in anticipation and realized as she waited for the search to finish that it was one of Doyle's favorites.
As she expected, there was a category about the sexual and mating habits of the particular demon species. The first thing she found was a physical description of the Brachen demon, something that she already knew intimately. She smiled when she found a description which was deliciously familiar:
Anecdotal evidence suggests that the normally rigid Brachen spines may soften during arousal to avoid injuring the partner. Brachens are also reputed to exude strong pheromones when aroused, including a distinctive odor which human beings have found irresistibly attractive.
'Demon spice,' she thought. 'If he could bottle it, we'd all make a fortune.'
She looked for something more, something that she didn't already know. Then one of the search hits caught her eye, something about magic. She clicked on the link and then was very glad that she was in 'alone time.'
There was no way in the world that Doyle would have wanted her to know about this.
Traditionally associated with the earth religions in the Celtic nations, Brachen demons have been known to participate with humans in a seasonal fertility ritual known as the 'sacred marriage.' This tradition, an early form of sex magick, is believed to date back to the times before recorded history, to the earliest contacts between demons and humankind. Human followers of the ancient nature religions would sometimes seek out Brachen demons to play the role of the 'sacred king' by engaging in a ritual act of sexual intercourse at a specified time, considered to be auspicious, with a human woman. Brachens were preferred for this act of ceremonial sex due to their affinity for magic and the reputed power of the Brachen pheromones to arouse human sexual desire. The rite was usually performed outdoors and was sometimes performed in the presence of witnesses, although customs varied. It was believed that any pregnancy resulting from such a ceremonial union would result in a great blessing to the woman's entire people and that any child born of such a union would have a special destiny. However, the fate of the 'sacred king' is unclear. In ancient times, the chosen male would be ritually sacrificed after the completion of the sexual act. It is rumored that such ceremonial sexual acts have continued into the present century but whether the life of the demon participant would be offered to the god or goddess only symbolically, or taken by an actual death, remains unknown.
"Whoa," Cordelia murmured, shaking her head.
Struck by a sudden thought, she typed in a new search request: 'Promised One.'
The wait seemed endless but finally the links came up.
A few clicks later, she found:
A tradition held in common among various demon populations and particularly prevalent among those who have crossbred with humans. The concept of the 'Promised One' may be an example of the cultural influence of humans upon demons, especially human-demon halfbreeds who have assimilated aspects of human religion into their own traditions. The 'Promised One,' a savior or deliverer of sorts, was to be a special child born for the purpose of rescuing a particular tribe or people from a future peril. The legends of the 'Promised One,' like the religious myths of human beings, often refer to the conception of such a child in a supernatural manner and the willing sacrifice of such a child, grown to adulthood, in order to save others. While the traditions regarding the conception of the 'Promised One' and the ultimate sacrifice made by the 'Promised One' vary among the many distinct demon subcultures, a common theme is that such a special child may be produced as a result of a ritual mating between demons of different species, or between a demon and a human being.
Cordelia closed her browser and then, feeling shaken, closed her eyes.
Doyle had willingly sacrificed himself for the sake of others and then, she and Angel had brought him back through an act of sex magick.
Was there a reason why the sex magick had worked, when nothing else had?
She had always wondered how Doyle came to be born but up until now, it had been only curiosity and a desire to know as much as she could about each of the men she loved.
Now, for the first time, she wondered if the way Doyle happened to be born might be more important than she'd ever thought, to his death and to his return.
She shut down the computer completely, for no other reason than to give herself more time to think.
She couldn't ask Doyle's mother – she didn't even know the woman's name or where she lived and she knew that Doyle's relationship with her was strained, at best.
That left only one person who might know... the only ethno-demonologist she had ever met.
But how could she ask that kind of question of a woman she barely knew?
And, what was far more important, would Doyle ever forgive her if she asked Harry?
For a long moment, her hand hesitated by the power switch of the computer. Doyle kept various addresses and phone numbers there, she knew. She was almost sure that Harry's number was one of them.
Then she heard the telltale creak of the elevator and pulled her hand away from the computer quickly. Why was she feeling so guilty? She hadn't actually done anything, yet.
But, even the thought of trying to keep a secret from Doyle bothered her.
She kept her mind closed as she watched the elevator rise. Soon she was able to see that both Doyle and Angel were inside. Not quite sure if she could do this yet, Cordelia sent a quick thought, on as tight and narrow a link as she could, to Angel alone. //We need to talk later. About Doyle.//
Then she withdrew her mind from his again before he could respond.
Even then, a faint sense of puzzlement from Angel leaked through to her, as the elevator doors opened.
Doyle was smiling, still slightly flushed with a glow that she recognized. She was almost sure that he hadn't sensed anything. "Havin' fun up here without us, princess?" he asked aloud. "Because we sure have been havin' fun down there without you."
"Oh, have you?" Knowing that she was being baited, she couldn't help but rise to the challenge anyway. "Is that the way it's going to be, then? If I want a little alone time, you two are going to romp around without me, is that it?"
"And why shouldn't we, then? Seein' as you have to lock us out an' all D'ye think it's been long enough yet?"
"I think I need to keep you guessing," she answered haughtily, moving toward him. "After all, doesn't it take some of the fun away when you always know exactly what I'm feeling? I think it might just have been more interesting when I could be mysterious now and then."
"Ah but a woman is always mysterious, darlin', no matter what."
She laughed, still keeping her mind shut against him. "Admit it, wasn't it a challenge when you didn't know for sure just how I felt about you?"
Doyle played along. He was sure that she was enjoying the game and he was more than willing to enjoy it, too. "It was that, princess but then again, you could be a bit terrifyin' back then, too."
"Maybe I want to be terrifying again, just for an hour or so."
"Well, just for an hour or so, maybe. I think I could probably deal with that."
Doyle didn't notice Angel's silence, or the way that Angel moved aside as Cordelia drew very close to him. He missed the expression on Angel's face, standing behind him, as Angel sent Cordelia a quick thought.
//Tell me. Should I be worried?//
//Not now.//
Cordelia put her hands on Doyle's shoulders, looking him over thoroughly. He stood still under her scrutiny, still smiling slightly.
"No cheating, now. You're going to have to guess what I'm thinking." Very lightly, she touched the hollow of his throat, tracing a line with her finger to where his undershirt showed slightly, along with a glimpse of hair.
"Okay. I'm guessing that you're complainin' about my clothes again, right?"
Cordelia only smiled. Actually, the black shirt he'd put on suited him, far better than the loud prints he preferred but the fact that he'd buttoned it wrong did interfere with the intended effect. It didn't matter, though, since it only made her want to take it off all the more.
With exaggerated contrition, Doyle exclaimed, "No, wait, I'm so sorry, you bought me this shirt. That means it must be perfect, right? So, that can't be it. What, then?"
Grinning widely now, she maintained her silence, her hand moving upward to trace the line of his jaw, brushing against his cheek, then circling back to his ear. He smiled under her hand. "Now what? Let me try again. Do I need a shave? If my ears are too big, there's nothin' I can do about that one, I'm afraid. I know I washed my hair," he added as her fingers moved through it. "So, that's not it. Not puttin' on any weight now, am I?"
Unable to stop herself, she blurted out, "No way! You're thin as a rail." Then, as he laughed delightedly, she scowled.
"Gotcha! I win this round," Doyle said triumphantly.
"I'm out of practice," she protested. "I need to work harder on being mysterious." Then she capitulated, opening her mind again, although not completely.
//Oh well. It's not like I can really hide it from you any more.//
//Hide what?// Doyle teased, as she brought her other arm around him.
//Oh, just the fact that I'm completely crazy about you, that's all. It used to be so much fun to keep you wondering.//
//But isn't this even more fun than that?// he responded with mock-innocence.
//Not if all the fun is going on without me.//
//We'll just have to remedy that, then, won't we?// Doyle finally noticed that Angel was not participating in their banter and reached out to him. //Won't we then, Angel?//
//We'll just have to take care of it,// Angel sent back to both of them and only Cordelia noticed that his thought could carry more than one meaning.
Then, she pushed it out of her mind for the moment and concentrated on kissing Doyle.
//You smell so good. You taste so good, too,// she sent to him, contentedly and she felt his answering pleasure. Right now, nothing else mattered.
There would be plenty of time later to figure out the rest.
