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"Much as I'm appreciating we go where the violence is, I'm wonderin how you actually knew to come here, when I didn't have a vision." If Doyle's tone hasn't hinted at his confusion, his frank appraisal of their surroundings has. It's not that he minds sitting in the only truly Irish restaurant in L.A or that he's not enjoying the food or the company, but he doesn't see why a demon would chose to attack such a crowded place so early in the evening. Hell it was barely after dusk, which was lucky for him. Any earlier and Doyle would have been on his own, not enjoying Angel's company.
"I've got connections." Angel's voice is smooth, a little too smooth perhaps and Doyle realises he's bypassed the question yet again. Which is what Angel's been managing to do all night. From their soup and tea starters through to Doyle's favourite, Beef with Guinness, Angel's managed to evade his questions about the Demon that's meant to attack and when it's meant to happen.
"Connections huh?" Doyle's eyes narrow slightly; Angel looks too smug, too relaxed. Not his usual wound up self, waiting for a Demon attack; Something's off. Doyle glances around and takes in his surroundings; the cosy yet surprisingly expensive restaurant catering only the best Irish cuisine, the soft lighting and soft Irish music playing in the background reminding them both of home. "You're not really talking much here Angel." Doyle's starting to wonder, starting to let himself hope that his hints have paid off.
"We've been talking all night." Angel smiles again and Doyle likes this smile. It's relaxed and happy, something Doyle rarely sees on the Vampire's face.
"Well yeah talkin, but mostly about us. You and the whole Sunnydale thing backwards and me an being a teacher." Doyle pauses, a thought striking him; one that inflames his curiosities. "We've been talking about the personal stuff like, which is different-"
Angel interrupting cuts off the rest of his sentence, "Didn't you like it? I mean isn't it okay, spending time together, here?" The Vampire looks a little nervous now; he leans closer to Doyle, his dark eyes burning intensely with some emotion Doyle can't place.
The half-Demon hastens to reassure him, "No, no it's great spending time an all. You know I'm happy Angel, always trying to get you out of the office one way or the other." Doyle grins slightly mischievously, "So we're spending time together now huh? There's no demon coming right?"
Angel shifts uncomfortably, putting up his hands, "Well maybe not right now. But you know, at some point.... Probably." He avoids Doyle's eyes for a moment, before looking up and oh my...Doyle's amused smile grows into a grin, Angel's pouting. The Vampire who broods, is now the Vampire who pouts.
Doyle wants to laugh but then it all clicks into place; this isn't just spending time together, this isn't just a slight nudge towards possible romance- this is romance. Angel's attempts at romance, and very good attempts they are too; Doyle's favourite food and favourite music, the small talk and conversation slowly growing more intimate. It was definitely a date. Then it hits him and Doyle looks around at the other patrons-all couples. Then he looks up at the restaurant staff seeing the decorations on their outfits and remembers what the actual date is.
"Valentine's day?" A slow grin comes over Doyle's face as Angel shifts, obviously uncomfortable. "This is a date right Angel? Well why didn't you say so man?"
"It's not a date per say," If Angel had been human he'd have been blushing. The dark Vampire didn't use the word date and never went on them; calling their dinner a date made him uncomfortable, made him feel like brooding. Besides he's always preferred the old fashioned terms and since this was something he intends to repeat, he prefers to call it courting. "Though I have got tickets to the ballet afterwards." He admits.
Doyle's green eyes widen, his eyebrows raising in amazement, "The ballet?" He croaks taking a swig of Scotch; that's one place he's never been, or even thought about going if he's honest. He'd have preferred a gambling pit but then he knows Angel would never take him in there, wouldn't want to ruin their first date like that.
"Yeah, it's a comedy though. La Fille mal gardee. It's meant to be all the rage here and I thought, since I love ballet and you love comedy, I could combine the two and make it a really special evening. Just not a date." Angel sips at his drink, enjoying the distraction even if the liquid doesn't hold much enticement.
"So it's not a date but your takin me to dinner an the ballet?" Doyle doesn't care what Angel calls it if he's honest; so long as it's just him and Angel together. "Wait you like the ballet?" He asks incredulously.
Angel looks put out at the comment, "I saw Giselle in eighteen-ninety. I cried like a baby. And I was evil!"
Doyle suppresses a laugh, seeing this is something Angel feels strongly about, "Even as Angelus? Wow, you must really love it. So when we meant to get there?"
"In about an hour," Angel looks surprised at Doyle's willingness to go the performance, "I tried to time it so you could have desert first.
"Which is always good," Doyle pats his stomach, feeling a niggling sensation itching at his mind. "A mean eatin machine me. There's always room fo-"
Violently he jerks backwards falling onto the floor as the vision assaults him. Bright lights swirl and coalesce into violent images, which make him twist and moan. For the next few minutes Doyle's unaware of anything but pain; he doesn't see Angel leap from his chair and rush to his side, gathering him in his arms. The Demon hunter doesn't feel his jerking limbs connecting with Angel's as the Vampire holds him tightly, protecting him from harm despite looks from the other patrons. As the vision ends, Doyle sinks bonelessly into Angel's tender embrace not caring where they are, only that he's not alone.
"Well that hurt like a bitch," Doyle murmurs pressing his cheek into the Vampire's chest; closing his eyes, he enjoys the vibrations as Angel laughs softly. It's a good sound, one Doyle wants to hear more often but now he's exhausted, the violence of the vision having taken so much out of him.
"We can do the ballet another night," Angel assures him, standing up with the half-demon still held close, "We'll take the potato pie to go." He calls to the Waiter who's already coming over with the bill, eager to rid himself of such crazy customers.
Doyle opens one eye remembering his vision, "Gotta stop by the park first. Won't take long, just some crazy assed vamps tryin to snack on a bunch of kids." He knows Angel can deal with it; Doyle will just stay in the car, curl up with the scent of his new boyfriend around him and try to sleep off the headache.
"And then I'm taking you home, my home." Angel reiterates as he quickly pays the bill, grabbing Doyle's boxed desert. "You can have my bed."
Doyle laughs softly in response, "If I'd known you'd be this forward, I would have worn my good underwear."