Spoliers: Nothing specific although tthe series does take place primarly in the realm of the Angel Series.

Author's Notes: I need to thank a few folks here for their support and kind words. First off is Jen who got me stuck on the C/A thing with her lovely site Chaos Embraced (not to mention that OTHER willow-centric archive out there...hmm..<g>) as well as Laine, Colleen, Beth and Sarge my AWESOME beta readers who are just great. Lastly, but not leastly, all the terrific people who sent me feedback when I posted this fic onlist and at Jen's. Thank You. 

 Buffy looks...beautiful.

God, how long has it been since I last held her? A little more than two years.

It feels like two centuries. A day doesn't go by that I don't think about her and what she's doing and how she is. Looking at her now, though, I can see that my leaving was the best thing for both of us. The way she laughs and the brightness in her eyes...when we were together, she'd have to hide that. Now it's almost as if she isn't afraid to glow or to be beautiful.

This isn't to say that I'm completely selfless, though.

There's still a part of me that loves her so much that I wish I'd stayed, consequences be damned. Even old age doesn't erase one's ability to be selfish and to regret.

And regret I do.

"Angel!" She bounces up to me, her eyes sparkling almost feverishly in her excitement, "Thanks so much for the book!" She jumps up into my arms, almost throwing me off balance.

Pulling away all too soon, she lets a giggle escape before waving the book under my nose again, "The Joy Luck Club...it's actually one of those ones that Willow's been trying to get me to read for, like, ages, so I'm pretty psyched."

"Yeah, well I liked it a lot when I read it..." Yes, it's technically what Doyle would call 'a girlie book' but I thought it was...uplifting. Hey, it was either that or buy her Dante's Inferno and something tells me that the gesture would have been misread.

"Oh, and thank Cordelia for the Abercrombie sweater, it's absolutely gorgeous!" She gestures at the green garment she haphazardly threw over her white party dress and pirouettes dramatically, "I haven't seen her around or else I'd tell her myself..."

That's weird.

I pause for a second and do a quick cursory glance around the room.

Where IS Cordelia? I just saw her talking to Xander less than five minutes ago.

"Wait...come to think of it...Angel, have you seen Willow?"

Before I can respond, she's bounded off into the kitchen, shouting the redhead's name.

"Hey, deadboy, Cordy just invited me to go clubbing with you guys. How does next weekend sound?"

I can't help it and my eyes widen as I turn to Xander.

He snickers.

"Calm down, I'm just kidding."

Suppressing the urge to glare, I decide to attempt civility (as opposed to just walking away which is what I normally do whenever confronted with the annoyance known as Xander). "No, you're welcome to visit if you'd like."

It's his turn to look surprised and I can't help but smirk a little over that.

"Seriously? Cool..." He seems lost in thought for a second and I briefly glance over his shoulder, still trying to locate Cordelia.

"Willow?" Buffy hollers coming out of the kitchen.

"She's in the study with Cordy looking at files or something for one of Angel's cases," Xander supplies, abruptly walking away from me and towards Buffy.

Files for one of our cases? But we're between cases right now. Unless Cordelia is working on something that I don't know about. It's unlike her to take the initiative, but then, it's entirely possible that the client is 'cute' so I'm not ruling it out altogether.

"Oh, okay, thanks." Shrugging, she heads towards a side door just as an ear splitting beeping noise cuts across the room.

Conversation around us essentially screeches to a standstill and all eyes turn towards the source of the noise.

Doyle sends me a sheepish grin from his seat in front of the computer.

Great.

It's the same smile he tries to use on Cordelia when he does something stupid even though it never works. It tends to irritate her more than anything else.

I know, because it has the exact same effect on me.

The horrible noise sounds again, jump starting conversation. With my sensitized hearing, it's especially grating and my first instinct is to leave the room. For some reason, everyone else decides to crowd closer to Doyle and the computer.

"Wait...what were you trying to do?" Amy makes a face as she leans across him and stares at the screen.

"What was the last thing you touched?" Buffy joins them.

"Is that even Windows?" Kate adds, putting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly as the other two women scrutinize the computer.

"I-I dunno...I was just sittin here and my hand slipped on the mouse..." He trails off and looks up at his saviors, so confused that I can almost imagine the word 'helpless' scrawled across his forehead.

In all my years of roaming around the world, I can tell you that there are very few women who can pull a 'damsel in distress' routine and make it consistently work for them.

There are even fewer men.

Doyle happens to be one of them.

"It's okay, I mean, it's not your fault. Whoa...I think the screen is frozen and...wait...is this Window's version 3.0?" Amy looks horrified.

"Who the hell has that?" Kate comments, cocking her head to one side.

"Giles." Buffy shakes her head, "God...I knew about the lack of Internet connection...but this..."

The noise sounds again and I cringe this time.

"GodDAMMIT!" Frustrated, Buffy brings her fist down on the computer, slightly but noticeably denting the console, "Oh shit....uhm...Giles!" She yells for her Watcher.

If there's one thing I'll always admire about Giles, it's the amount of respect and love he evokes from Buffy. Whenever anything goes wrong, he's the first person she turns to. Unfortunately, it's turned into a bit of a knee-jerk reaction and I can see where the logic is going to end a few paces down the road so I decide to help it along myself.

Basically I go to retrieve Willow now, just to save Giles the walk across the room.

Heading towards the door Buffy had been about to open, I slow down when I hear voices.

"You know that he and Buffy are...over...right?"

Stopping abruptly, I stare at the door before carefully sidling up to it. The group behind me is so entangled in whatever mess Doyle's made of Giles' computer that they aren't paying any attention to what I'm doing. And yes, I know it's impolite to eavesdrop, but what can I say? Old habits die hard. That and the fact that I'm interested to hear what Willow has to say because I thought Buffy's relationship with her new boyfriend was going well. In fact, I met him tonight.

He's kinda young, if you ask me, but she seems to like him.

"She's seeing someone else. He's a really awesome guy, too. A little oblivious sometimes, but with Xander, we've gotten used to it. I mean, Buffy and Angel...th-they aren't the same, Cordelia."

Wait...

"Well, yeah but th-there's Kate."

For the first time, I hear Cordelia's voice through the door but it sounds oddly distorted. Strained.

It could be my imagination.

Then again, that's unlikely. Angelus is the one with the imagination.

"Kate's nice. I just met her." Willow pauses. "But Kate isn't you, Cordelia. You and Angel are different...you have history...you...click well."

Suddenly, that old familiar feeling washes over me.

Guilt.

Back with a vengeance and stronger than usual.

Has Cordelia been feeling left out? I know Doyle sometimes makes fun of her for playing the 'May Queen' and granted, I don't condone it, but I don't really condemn it either. Sometimes I forget that Cordelia, for all her haughty self-confidence and oblivious lack of tact, has feelings too. I can't imagine why she'd think I would ever replace her, though. Her work is invaluable to both Doyle and me.

Without her, who would do all those invoices?

Besides, Kate already has a job with the police department. Even if we did want to hire her along, I doubt she'd be interested.

"...click?"

"You know, like you compliment each other really well. And it's not like with him and Buffy when they had that huge...conflict of interest. You two work together."

Conflict of interest?

I almost chuckle, but stop myself when I realize that they probably wouldn't appreciate the fact that I've been...partaking in their conversation, so to speak. I've never quite of heard of Buffy and my relationship referred to as a 'conflict of interest', though. Lord, I think I've really missed Willow.

Having lived with Cordelia for two years, I've forgotten what tact sounds like.

Now that I think about it, tact sounds quite a bit like a major understatement...

"Kate works with us too."

"Yeah, but Kate's with the police and Angel seems so...non-police to me. A-and you guys knew each other in high school. Like, he still TALKS to you and stuff which is a really good thing. I mean, like, you've seen the worst sides of each other and you still get along. He was homicidal and you were kinda self involved but you're both really cool now which is nice. He accepts you for you and you do the same for him." She pauses. "That seemed like a lot of 'you's'....Anyways, Kate and Angel haven't really done that. You know?"

I never realized how insecure Cordelia feels around Kate. Normally she'd mention it or at least make enough catty remarks to make it obvious, but she's always seemed to like Kate. Then again, if I've learned anything, it's that women have a tendency to surprise you.

"But...Kate's blonde..."

Okay, now that's just strange. For a split second, I get a mental image of Cordelia as a blonde in my head and I shudder.

Why on earth would she ever want to do that to herself when she's already got such nice hair?

"Okay, so yeah, Kate is blonde and so was Buffy and so was Darla. You're totally right. He definitely seems to have a fixation on blondes, but Cordy...so what? So what? Are you telling me that you're going to give into that?"

What? I lean in closer to the door. Darla? What does Darla have to do with this?

"Wh-what?"

Cordelia sounds as thrown off guard as I feel right now.

"Are you going to let the fact that most of his past girlfriends have been blonde stop you from loving him?" Willow demands.

I'm pretty sure that if I weren't already dead, I'd be damn near close at this point. Maybe they know I'm standing out here and they're just trying to pull a prank. I feel a major brooding session coming on and the urge to just succumb to it and take a nice long walk is nearly overwhelming. Maybe Xander set me up for this.

"No. No, I guess I'm not."

Then again, maybe it's real.

"You GUESS?"

My God.

"I * know* I'm not."

For some reason, a thrill goes through my muddled brain when I hear Cordelia say those words. The determination in her voice is clear and the demon half of me jumps at the chance to test that determination.

Good thing the demon isn't the one in control of my emotions.

Yeah.

"Willow?"

Glancing behind me, I notice Giles rapidly moving in my direction.

So I do what I do best.

I blend into the woodwork and he brushes past me, close enough for me to reach out and touch his tweed jacket.

"Willow?" He opens the door and I back away from the room.

Cordelia may not be very observant, but she isn't exactly stupid. If what I heard is true, then the first thing she'll do when she gets out is to look to see where I am. Because, hell, that's what I'd do.

Besides, I need to think.

Alone.

Preferably in the dark.

Maybe I will go for that walk.

You know, kill a demon or two and try to clear my head.

Get away from this whole scene for awhile.

Cordelia.

Buffy.

Cordelia.

That sharp and spicy scent that is indefinably Cordelia.

It's getting stronger.

I need to go chase something down.

Makes you wonder where Xander is when you need him...

"Buffy's quite perky, wouldn't you say, Angel? I think that's a good word to describe her as. Perky. In an outgoing way."

It's a good thing I know Doyle's mother.

She's a very kind woman.

It's because of her that I'm currently refraining from hitting her son.

"Slayers are mighty flexible too, eh?"

Hell, even his mother would have slugged him by now.

Sending him a sideways glare, I merely grunt in a vague way before returning my attention out the window.

He's blatantly baiting me and I know it.

Incredible.

He knows I don't talk much about Buffy on principle and now he just won't leave the subject alone. This isn't even the first time the two of them have met. He's known Buffy for at least a few weeks now.

I don't know what kind of game he's playing, but I do know that he's trying to get a rise out of me on purpose.

Doyle's non-human half seems to be making a rare public appearance, and unfortunately my own demon is just aching to have it out with him. The only thread of sanity that's keeping me from hitting him upside the head at this point is the fact that we'd both have to answer to Cordelia in the end. Somehow, annoying Cordy in a small space isn't high on my list of things to do.

It's nearly 2am and I'm itching to get out of this car and onto the streets.

I'm good at waiting.

It's something I've done for years...in a way, it goes hand in hand with brooding.

However, if I don't get out of this car in the next 10 minutes, I'm going to do something borderline insane.

Like whine.

Even though I've grown to really love this car, I have to admit that it's damn cramped. Especially on long trips like this one.

Darkness, I don't mind.

Tight spaces, however, just aren't my thing.

I guess, as Cordelia would say, that means I have "layers".

The minutes tick by torturously and I let out a little sigh of relief when we finally pull into the garage.

"Home sweet home." Doyle grins and turns off the engine, "I'm exhausted. How about you, D-,"

The car door slams shut, cutting off the rest of his sentence and we both watch in amazement as Cordelia wordlessly runs around the front of the car and dashes into the apartment.

After a few moments of silence, Doyle merely shrugs, "I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go."

"What's your problem?"

"Problem?" Gesturing wildly, he stares at me in wide-eyed innocence, "What on earth are y-,"

"Don't." I give him a warning look and he pauses.

"Alright, alright, so I'm a wee bit excitable tonight. Can ya blame me?"

"Excitable?" I give him my best 'I don't buy it' look which he naturally chooses to ignore.

"It's a brilliant night, man. There's much to be excited about."

"Like Buffy?"

He looks surprised, "Buffy? She's cute and all, but I don't usually go for blondes. No offense, mate, but she ain't my type."

Doyle's 'type' tends to be female. Hair is a bonus and pulse is optional.

I'm about to tell him so, when he opens his door, "Blondes are way more your thing, anyway. Me, I go for tall, dark and unspeakably gorgeous."

For some inane reason, his comment makes me bristle even more.

"Unless of course," He pauses to wink, "You're thinkin of branchin out and broadening your horizons." And with that, he slams the door shut, leaving me behind in the silence of my still-cramped car to try and figure out what the hell just happened.

Having always played the part of 'cryptic guy' I'm usually the one with the connections and the underground information. Rarely, if ever, do I feel as 'out of the loop' as I do now.

Pulling myself out of the car and up the stairs, I can feel my previous jolt of energy waning.

By the time I get into the apartment, Doyle is nowhere in sight and Cordelia is sitting at the computer, typing away diligently. She doesn't even hear me close the door.

Her instant messenger kicks in just as I stop to stand behind her:

>>WILLWICCA: Okay, according to my books, it's about a mile for noises and half a mile for actual spoken words, although it varies with environment and extenuating sounds.>>

Cordelia moans softly just as I clear my throat.

Spinning around, an indefinable expression crosses over her face before she sends me a brilliant smile, "Hey, I didn't hear you come in. Doyle never shuts the hell up and we really need to buy you a bell to hang around your neck."

"Or we could just hang Doyle around my neck."

It takes her a moment to understand the joke and me a moment to believe that I just said something so incredibly cheesy. Fully expecting her call me on it, I'm surprised when she simply giggles.

"Funny! That was funny!"

The instant messenger chimes again and she casually leans back and closes the window on the computer screen.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Talking? Oh, you mean, like, who am I IMing with?" She brushes her hair out of her eyes, "Willow."

"So late?"

She gives me a look. "Like you should talk. Besides, it's, like business related...it's about that English class I'm taking."

Sensing that she wants me to leave, I simply nod at her, "Well, I'm going out. Tell Doyle I'll call him early tomorrow morning about the Haffener meeting for next week."

"Okay, will do. And you know the drill! B-,"

I smirk at her good-naturedly. "Bring the cards to give out and turn off the hallway light when I get in. I remember, Cordelia."

She turns back to the computer, "Actually, I was going to say 'be careful'. Night, Angel."

After an awkward moment of staring at the back of her head, I nod again, "Night, Cordelia."

"Oh, and take your jacket with you." She gestures vaguely to the garment draped over the couch and I pick it up on my way out the door.

It isn't until I'm fully outside that I realize it.

Goddamn.

As if this night couldn't get any more bizarre.

Wrinkling my nose, I confirm my suspicion.

I smell like Cordelia.

Well, more accurately, my jacket does.

And suddenly, I feel my energy coming back.

Maybe her perfume has some kind of olfactory stimulant in it.

Maybe it's late enough that I'm finally waking up.