Author: Katherine Dimmick
In Associations with: Cleo & Ellen
Rating: PG / PG-13
Summary: The title more-or-less says it all.
This story occurs after both "Covenant" and "More Than Meets the Eye." While there are no direct spoilers, there are references back.
"Oh, man, you shouldn't have."
Doyle's eyes were shining in anticipation as Angel entered, carrying a bottle in a dusty box. Doyle took it reverently from his hands, and began to brush the dust away.
"It's older than you are," Angel said with a smile. "Then again, I probably have clothes that are older than you are."
"A big check on that one," Cordelia agreed. "So what exactly is this stuff?"
"Ah, princess, it's the best of the best," Doyle whispered, in an awed tone. "And for what special occasion were you saving this, Angel m'man?"
"I didn't know myself, until now," Angel admitted. "The truth is, I put it aside the last time I lived in L.A., back in the fifties. I stashed it in the basement of a hotel, actually, because the help over there had a tendency to sample what the guests left in the rooms. I left it there for forty years or so. Forgot all about it."
"Sacrilege."
"You lived in L.A. in the fifties?" Cordelia asked. "What was it like here then?"
As Cordelia glanced curiously at Angel, she could feel a flash of anger rising up within him, flaring up and then subsiding into a dull bitterness. "You wouldn't want to know," he answered. "Anyway, when you came back..."
"When you brought me back," Doyle corrected. "I can't claim the credit for it. That was you two."
Angel paused, and reached out to touch Doyle's face lightly. The dust on Angel's fingers left a streak on Doyle's cheek. "I knew you'd like this. So I went back to get it, and believe it or not, it was still there, in its safe hiding place in the basement, even though the hotel has been closed for years."
"Lucky that the place wasn't torn down, eh? What a waste that would have been."
Cordelia brushed the dust off Doyle's face. "Yeah," she echoed, "What a waste it would have been." Both Angel and Doyle could feel that she wasn't talking about the bottle, as Doyle admired the amber liquid through the elaborately cut glass, then set the bottle carefully down on the table.
Cordelia's hand lingered on Doyle's cheek, and Doyle glanced past her at Angel, who picked up his thought and went to get three glasses.
As Angel left the room, Cordelia sent tentatively to Doyle: //Are you all right?//
He smiled at her. //Of course, why wouldn't I be?//
//I just felt ... something odd. I don't know. I'm not used to this yet.//
//I think Angel has some issues with whatever happened back when he was in L.A. last,// Doyle sent. //I'm not sure what that's about.//
//Ancient history,// Cordelia thought dismissively. //No, that's not what I mean. You feel to me like... oh, I don't know, like maybe you aren't sure you should be here. Am I just getting confused? Because this thing with reading minds, you know, it takes some time to get used to it.//
//You're picking it up fast,// Doyle answered. //Faster than we are, I think.//
//So, share.// Cordelia took his hand, tracing a line with her fingers from his palm up the inside of his arm. //Because, I don't know if you can feel what I'm feeling right now, but I'm so glad that you're here and alive that I can't understand why you wouldn't feel the same way.//
//I know. I can feel it, loud and clear, sweetheart.//
Doyle pulled Cordelia into a hug, resting his face against her hair. It was true; he could sense the joy in her that he was here, as he had been feeling it ever since his return. There was no mistaking what she felt, or what Angel felt about him. It came through to him plainly, through their bond.
//I guess I'm still having trouble with this whole thing,// he admitted. //I know why you tried to bring me back. I can see it in you, in both of you, and I've gotta tell you that's a scary thing, but that's not what's bothering me. What I really don't get is, why the Powers That Be let you get away with it.//
//What do you mean?// Cordelia queried, her face against his chest.
She was listening to his heartbeat. Doyle could hear it in her mind, and he caught his breath at the emotion that he was getting from her. Closing his eyes, he brought his lips to her forehead and held them there.
//The Powers that Be didn't seem to have any problem with me bein' dead, darlin',// he sent. //They gave you the visions and everything, though you've certainly been tryin' hard enough since I've been back to kiss them all back into me.//
//Oh yeah, that's what I've been doing, all right.// She smiled into his shirt, knowing that he could feel it.
//I'd guess they were okay with my death. So why did they let you bring me back?//
//I don't know. I don't care, as long as they did. You're here, that's all that matters.// She held him tightly, with surprising strength. //You're here, and I'm not letting you go again. We clear on that one?//
//Sure.//
Doyle looked up, to see Angel already back in the room. //Hey, how'd you do that? I mean, shouldn't we have felt you come back in?//
Angel shrugged slightly. //Trying not to bother you two.// He set the glasses on the table.
//Problem?// Doyle sent. //Like Cordelia just said, share.//
Cordelia turned to face Angel, noticing that they had shifted from speech to thought. //Yeah, whatever it is, out with it,// she thought impatiently.
//Well, if happiness is a problem, then, yeah, I'd say, I've got a problem. I'm just not used to the idea of that not being a problem any more.//
Doyle understood. //So, it doesn't feel right to you, being happy. Feels like there's something wrong with it.//
//Exactly. I'm waiting for something to go wrong. But, that's not going to happen. Is it?//
Suddenly Doyle and Cordelia both stumbled, simultaneously, and began to fall together toward the table, Cordelia instinctively clutching at Doyle as they both flinched under the onslaught of a vision. Angel started to reach toward them, but Doyle was able to send a fast thought: //The bottle!// before pitching forward.
Obediently Angel grabbed the bottle first, tucking it safely under one arm, as he moved swiftly forward to catch them both before they crashed to the floor.
Through their bond, he could feel an echo of their pain in his own mind as the three of them sank to the floor, Angel bearing their weight and cushioning their fall.
As soon as Doyle could think again, he sent, //Ahhhhh, not now, not on New Year's Eve!//
//Duh, they don't care. Owww.// Cordelia half-sat up, one hand covering her eyes, the other clinging tightly to Doyle's arm. //Well, at least that one wasn't as bad as usual. Hey!//
//Don't think so loud, princess. It hurts my head.//
//Hey!// she sent again. //Both of us. Both of us! What kind of sadistic crap is that, anyway? It wasn't enough for one of us to suffer? Now we get to play double your pleasure, double your pain?//
//If you don't stop all that shriekin' in my head, it won't just be the Powers that are doublin' our pain,// Doyle sent grimly.
//Owww! What is that supposed to mean? I'm hurting too, you know! Don't think you're going to get all the sympathy around here any more!//
//Ah, Doyle, Cordelia, could you please stop fighting and tell me what you saw?//
//The usual icky demon, scaring off some drunks.//
//Laramore Street — // Doyle sent the address quickly to Angel. //At the Ruby Slipper Lounge. Not far, but still, you'll have to hurry. Looked t'me like a Cuaifeach – the kind the phrase 'speed demon' was invented for.//
//Anything special I should watch out for?//
//Yeah, that woman in the alley. She'd just as soon kill you as the demon,// Cordelia responded.
//Cuaifeach aren't fighters, they're runners. He's probably had a few too many himself and lookin' for a party. Once he sees you, he'll be yesterday's news,// Doyle sent.
//Don't hang around. I mean it about the woman,// Cordelia insisted.
//I'll be back as soon as I can. You two, take care of each other.// Angel made a quick exit, leaving Cordelia and Doyle still holding each other on the floor.
//Sorry I snapped at you, princess,// Doyle sent sheepishly, as the pain began to subside. //I know you're getting the same damn thing I am.//
//Yaah, right. So how come we're picking up different things from it?//
Cordelia showed him in her mind what she had felt in the vision. He did the same, and, still huddled together on the floor, they compared the images and sensations with a growing sense of realization.
//We saw and felt the same thing, and yet — //
//We noticed different things about it,// Cordelia finished Doyle's thought.
//You think, maybe...//
//That two aching heads are better than one?// Cordelia asked.
//Could be. Think Angel would mind if we opened up that bottle before he gets back?//
//He'll understand.// Cordelia groaned softly as she and Doyle began picking themselves up the floor. //Couldn't you feel what he was feeling when he looked at the bottle? It was all for you. He couldn't care less about the stuff himself. But when he saw your face light up like that...//
//Then let's hope he'll forgive us for starting without him.// Doyle's hands were still shaking a little from the vision as he reached for the bottle. He had to stop and take a moment to steady himself before he dared tackle the task of opening it.
Cordelia, still pale and unsteady herself, put a hand gently over his. //He'll forgive you all right, but slow down. It will still be there five minutes from now. If you don't go breaking it, that is.//
//Hush! Don't even think that.//
Still irritable from the pain, Cordelia angrily sent Doyle a vivid image of the bottle shattering on the floor.
He winced. //I mean it, get that thought out of your mind. Think about something else.//
//How about this, then? Was I just imagining it, or did that hurt a little less than usual?//
//You could be right. I can wait awhile longer to test it again, though.//
//Same here.//
"This thing has been shut tight for half a century. I don't think it's going to open anytime soon," Doyle said aloud, venting his frustration. Cordelia watched, as after considerable effort, Doyle finally managed to open the bottle.
"Good for you." Cordelia spoke aloud also. "Pour me just a little."
Doyle complied, handling the bottle gingerly, with intense concentration. He splashed just a bit into Cordelia's glass, then filled his own, and carefully set the bottle back down on the table.
He lifted his glass, sending Cordelia a quick thought as she picked up hers, and his hand only shook a little as he brought the two glasses together. "To us, eh?"
"To the three of us."
Cordelia sipped, while Doyle struggled to slow himself down enough to savor the fine quality. This was far too good to use strictly for medicinal purposes, and Cordelia wasn't going to interfere with his enjoyment of it, either.
//I heard that.//
//I'm not surprised.// Doyle closed his eyes, letting the burning liquid linger in his mouth. //Can you feel this, then?//
//Yes,// she conceded, grudgingly. //It really does something for you, doesn't it?//
//Look and see.// He shared his pleasure with her, and as she felt the tingling flush of warmth moving through his body, the annoyance in her thoughts softened.
//I like it when you feel better. I like it when you feel good, but...//
//But you like it even more when you're the one who's making me feel better. Is that it?//
//Gee, you'd think you were a mind-reader or something,// Cordelia thought.
//I promise ya, darlin', you can make me feel even better than this does, and you'll have your chance to prove it.//
//Soon as Angel gets back, I'll hold you to that promise.//
Doyle was still holding his refilled glass in his hand when a distant stab of pain reached both of them through the link.
//Angel!// Doyle flinched. //Kee-rist! I should have gone with him!// Doyle's mind fumbled as he reached out toward Angel. //I can't feel him!//
For a moment they stared wildly at each other, and then Cordelia relaxed. //It's all right, I can. It's nothing life-threatening. I mean – unlife-threatening? How would you say that for a vampire, anyway?//
//How can you tell?// Doyle interrupted. //All I got was the pain, and then, nothing! I can't hear him at all.//
Trying not to panic, Doyle took another burning swallow, staring at Cordelia. Why could she still sense Angel when he couldn't? The idea of anything happening to Angel sent fear like shards of ice throughout his body, deeper than the liquor could reach.
//It's faint, 'cause he's like a mile away, but he's all right,// she reassured him. //I'm only getting bits and pieces, like a long-distance connection breaking up.// Cordelia frowned in concentration. //That woman in the alley shot him. He was trying to save the bitch and she shot him! I warned him!//
//Cordelia, what are you getting?// Doyle put one hand on her arm, as he lifted his glass to his lips for another swallow with the other. //Show me!//
//It hurt, but he's fine.// Cordelia smiled as she heard Angel's thought in her mind. //He says you won't even need to use that good stuff for antiseptic, since his bullet wounds don't get infected. Can't you hear him?//
//Not direct, only through you.// Doyle's hand tightened on Cordelia's arm. //I'm getting it better now since I'm touching you.//
//Well, you don't have to hold me quite so tight. I'm going to have fingerprints on my arm tomorrow.//
Doyle released her arm abruptly. //I'm hurting you. I'm sorry.// He turned away to refill his glass again.
Feeling his rush of guilt, Cordelia sent quickly, //It's all right. You were worried about Angel, that's all. I understand.//
//Don't make it right.//
//No. But what's that thing they say on the bumper stickers?//
//Huh?//
//You know.// She showed him the image in her mind. //The fundy ones, the ones that say, 'Not perfect, just forgiven.'//
//Cordelia, I...//
He couldn't finish, as the strength of the love behind her smile, not only hers but Angel's too, came through to him in a wave. Angel's mind was touching his again, although only intermittently, reassuring him in brief bursts that he was fine and that he would be back soon.
//You can hear him now, right? Is that what I'm getting?//
//Yeah, that's what you're getting.//
//Too bad this didn't come with an instruction book. Mind-Reading for Dummies, maybe?//
//Well, it wouldn't exactly make the best-seller list. Not much demand, I'd guess.//
He still wouldn't meet her eyes, but Cordelia approached him anyway. //You want to put down that glass for just one minute?//
//Yeah.// He set the glass on the table, knowing what she was about to do, and she threw her arms around him.
//It's okay, really!// she sent insistently, holding him tight. //Stop trying to make a problem where there isn't any. Everything's fine. You're here. That's the most important thing there is. To him. To me.//
//Why?// He couldn't stop the thought.
//Let us show you.// Cordelia's hands moved on his back, her warmth pressed close against him. //He's almost here. I bet you can make him forget all about those bullets.//
//Yeah, well, I guess I have my uses.//
//More than that.// Cordelia slid her hands up his shoulders, to his head, and held his face between her palms. //We'll prove it to you. Of course, I thought we already did that. But I guess you need a little more convincing.//
//I have all I need,// Doyle responded. //I have the two of you. I'm alive. How could I not be happy?//
//I don't know. You tell me.//
They both felt Angel drawing near, and turned as he limped in, bringing with him a pungent whiff of the L.A. sewers.
//You really okay?// Doyle sent as he and Cordelia hurried to Angel's side.
Angel grinned sheepishly at them both, opening his arms to them and allowing himself to lean a little on Doyle as he gathered them close. //I'm fine. It was a small gun, and she only got one shot in, and yes, Cordelia, you told me so.//
//You know it.//
//So, got any of the good stuff left?//
//Plenty left for you.//
//For us to share,// Angel corrected. //After all, it's nearly midnight.//
Cordelia gasped. "You're right!" she exclaimed aloud, and broke away from Angel to turn on the TV. Doyle and Angel both laughed at the sight.
//Well,// she defended herself furiously, //I've been watching the coutdown for New Year's Eve since I was little. It's a tradition!//
//I'm all in favor of traditions. Well, some of them anyway,// Angel sent back, easing his way to a chair. The bullet wound in his leg still ached, even though it was healing rapidly. He sat down by the table, and looked up at Doyle expectantly.
Doyle laughed, and poured Angel a drink, his hand much steadier now than before. As he did, he bent toward Angel, and after placing the glass in front of him, sent him a knowing look. //I'm lookin' forward to tasting that on your lips later on. You gave us both a bit of a scare, y'know.//
//It tastes much better through your senses than mine, believe me. You were having trouble 'hearing' me before, weren't you?//
//Yeah. But Cordelia seemed to get it just fine.//
//Some kind of interference, do you think?// Angel inquired, trying to keep his thoughts neutral, as Doyle refilled his own glass.
//Dunno. I think Cordy and I are both stuck with the visions though.//
Turning back from the television set, Cordelia thought sourly, //Sure looks that way. I'll have another sip or two of that.//
Cordelia took another small splash in her glass, and Doyle put an arm around her waist as they turned to face the television screen.
//So, I guess we're in this together even more than I figured, darlin',// Doyle sent to her, and she shrugged a little, relaxing against him.
//We'll be all right. As long as we're together from now on, we can handle it.//
//I'm not planning on going anywhere.//
//That's good, because I'm not planning on letting you.//
//A little possessive, are we? Starting to take after a certain vampire of our mutual acquaintance?//
Cordelia only squeezed his hand in answer.
//To the New Year,// Angel offered, lifting his glass.
Cordelia smiled, tilting her own glass toward Doyle. //To you, okay? And before you ask why, it's for making this night something to celebrate.//
//To all of us, then,// Doyle amended the toast.
//To the way it should be,// Angel concluded. //To the three of us, together.//
//Happy New Year.//
The End
