Chapter Text
Lucky Charm
author: Lucinda
rating: pg, pg 13?
pairing: Willow/Doyle QPC #18
the QPC site:
disclaimer: I own nobody from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series.
distribution: WLS, NHA, QPC, Bite Me please?, anyone else just ask.
note: AU. Hero never happened. Cordelia hooked up with Wesley, and Doyle's crush on her faded.
Looking at the small leather pouch, sewn with scarlet and pale orange thread in strange patterns that he thought might be runes in some obscure language, Doyle sighed. They'd had a case where they helped a coven of D'Sheber demon-witches, and in repayment they'd granted various magical aids and talismans. They'd removed the clause in Angel's curse, but everyone else had been given one or two small pouches, with carefully distinctive embroidered markings. They had also been told to keep them close until the magic had time to work. Something about a plea for good fortune to come their way...
He wasn't quite certain what the little pouch was supposed to do for him, but... well, he really didn't see any particular area that couldn't use a bit of help. Except for his health, which was good. He shook his head, putting the pouch back over his neck, deciding to just let the magic do whatever good things it was supposed to. He was supposed to go pick up someone from the bus stop, an old friend of Angel and Cordelia's from Sunnydale. Someone named Willow... And she was supposed to be bringing some information and help them out with a bit of magic.
The bus stop was not the sort of place that he'd want to spend a lot of time. It was a bit small and dingy, with a general air of depression and worry. On the bright side, it wasn't the sort of place where there were generally vicious attacks, so that helped a little.
There was a cloud of smoke as the bus arrived, and soon there was a mob of people collecting things and scattering. He just waited, knowing that trying to find someone in the rush would be pointless and frustrating. It seemed to take forever for the crowd to clear, and then he saw the most amazing red hair...
Moving closer, he discovered that the red hair belonged to a young woman, with large hazel eyes and pale skin with a scattering of freckles. She was pretty, and wore a pair of loose jeans and a fuzzy blue sweater, with a dark orangish backpack almost bursting with stuff slung over her shoulder. She was looking around with curiosity, nibbling just a little on her lip.
"Are you Angel's Willow? From Sunnydale?" He asked the question, feeling caught between hope and embarrassment.
She looked at him, her expression nervous. "I'm Willow Rosenberg. You know Angel? That should make you... Doyle, right?"
"I know the brooding lunk. I'm supposed to collect you and bring you over... he couldn't come himself." He felt incredibly self conscious at the moment, and very awkward.
She smiled, one hand gesturing, as if running her fingers through the sunlight. "I didn't figure that he'd be here. I know about his touchy health."
He managed to keep his curiosity in check until they'd sat in his car, and then he couldn't quite keep it in any longer. "How did they rope you into this anyhow?"
"Wesley said there was something placing curses and compulsions of people. And since I am sort of a witch... I've been working on a few things, including a clause free soul for Angel." She looked as if she had dozens of thoughts whirling in her head.
"That might be a bit tricky. Then who would we ask to cast it? Souls are tricky things to work with." He felt a bit of worry, not wanting anything to happen to the young woman.
She giggled just a bit. "Probably me... I did give it back to him after he lost it in Sunnydale. But this thing sort of took a priority over fiddling with the particulars of something that's working... it is still there, right? I mean, someone would tell us if he lost his soul?"
He felt a bit off balance with the casual statement that this girl had given Angel his soul back. She didn't look old enough, or powerful enough... "Of course we'd let you know."
Willow looked over, smiling at him. "That's... good to know." Blushing, she looked away, suddenly very interested in the top of her backpack.
"Do you have a special someone that's hoping you hurry back to Sunnydale then? You seem a bit uneasy there." Doyle wasn't quite certain what prompted the question.
Her laugh was almost bitter. "No. My first crush spent his life pretending I didn't have a crush on him, my first boyfriend... he cheated on me and left town, and my last someone... she had problems with my magic. She said I used it too much... there was a lot of fighting. But no cheating this time."
"She? Does that mean you're only looking among the fairer sex now?" He felt a pang of worry go through him.
"Been there, tried that. I came to the conclusion that it isn't the packaging, it's the person inside. And that I have really bad luck at relationships." She sounded sad, almost wistful. "What about you?"
"I suppose I had the usual early efforts. I was married for a while, but she wanted a divorce after she learned... well, we separated. Then.. well, I just haven't found the right woman I guess." He felt a melancholy pang as he remembered his split with Harriet. She hadn't been able to deal with him being half demon, yet now she was married to a full demon... He would never understand women.
"Why did she want a divorce?" There was just something about Willow... He couldn't ignore the question. Hopefully, since she knew Angel, she wouldn't panic on him.
He could feel himself tensing. "We found out... I didn't know before, but... I'm half demon. On my father's side."
There was a silent pause, and a cautious glance showed that she was looking at him, studying his face with an air of calm curiosity.
"What type of demon? Because, well, you look pretty human." Her words were calm, a bit puzzled, as if she had expected to be able to identify what he was by looking.
"Brakken demon. And normally, I do look human. I can... change my features, or it happens if I sneeze." He wondered what she was thinking.
Willow's fingers tapped over the glove box. "Brakkens... ummm... green, little spikes... sometimes clairvoyant and generally non-aggressive?"
He felt amazed. "Yes... how did you...?"
"Big Watcher books on how to identify just about everything. Name that demon, identify the old prophecy, top ten signs of an attempted apocalypse... the usual assortment." She had a faint smile.
"oh." He wondered how he'd forgotten. The woman worked with a Slayer, for heaven's sake. She could probably identify dozens of demons at a glance.
"My first boyfriend was a werewolf. And Tara... was a witch that might have had a little demon ancestry, we were never quite sure on that count. It isn't a problem unless you let it be." There was something in her smile, some flicker of... could that be interest? Attraction?
Doyle found himself smiling, suddenly a lot more cheerful about Willow's visit. "Maybe if you're still here come Friday, I could take you out for dinner?"
"I think... I think I'd like that." She sounded almost shy, but her eyes were sparkling like jewels.
Hope made his heart beat faster, and he was certain that he was grinning like a madman as they arrived at the Hyperion. "Wonderful."
end Lucky Charm?