Title: I See a Dark Stranger

Author: Alan Hitchen

Feedback: Would be nice

Disclaimer: BTVS, Angel, and related characters belong to Joss Whedon et al

Rating: PG-13

…

The white light engulfed him and Doyle found himself falling, falling, and falling! With a thud he suddenly stopped falling and all was dark and quiet. After a while he chanced opening an eye. By the light of the dawn that was peeping through the curtains he could see the carpet beneath him and the rest of the bedroom exactly as it usually was, right down to the dust bunnies under the bed. He groaned with relief. He was in his own bedroom having just fallen out of bed and not in the hold of a ship having just fallen to his death.

"Damn nightmare," he muttered, as he levered himself up off the floor. He looked at the clock on the nightstand and then at his wife who was still sound asleep. A tousled mop of red hair framed her angelic face. He smiled, as he always did when he saw her, and thought back to the day they first met nearly a year ago.

…

"Mr Doyle?" asked the voice.

"That would be me," he said, turning to meet the visitor who was standing in the doorway behind him. "Just call me Doyle, everyone does."

She stepped out of the gloom of the hallway into the office where he could see her properly. His experienced eye made a quick appraisal of the potential client; he liked what he saw. The petite redhead with the twinkling green eyes was simply but stylishly dressed and looked a lot younger than he guessed she was.

"How can I help you, Miss…"

"Rosenberg. You can call me Willow, everyone does," she said with a smile that turned his knees to Jell-O. "I want you to find someone for me. A friend of mine came out to LA to pursue a career as an actress. She seems to have dropped out of sight and I’m worried about her."

Doyle realised this was his cue to speak but he found himself unable to do so. He had met many people in his line of work but never one that had this effect on him before, not even his ex-wife. He produced a chair for her to sit on to give himself time to form a response.

"Well – Miss Rosenberg – Willow – I’ll need a few details about your friend."

"Of course," she replied, and produced an information pack from her purse.

He sat down at his desk and glanced through it. "Very informative. Cordelia Chase is lucky to have such a good friend looking out for her."

Willow chuckled at the notion. "I don’t think she would see it that way," she said, then seriously, "but whether she likes it or not, I am her friend, I am worried about her, and I want to know she is alright."

"I understand. If she is in LA I’ll find her, but I warn you just because I’m not a big firm it doesn’t mean I work cheap."

"That’s not a problem," she said, and from the tone of her voice he could almost see the platinum cards in her billfold. "I didn’t come to you because you are cheap. I came to you because you are good. I asked around, the word is that you’re the best."

Doyle smiled graciously. "Well, I can’t fail you now can I? Alright Willow, consider Miss Chase already found," he said rising to his feet. As he shook her hand a vision slammed into his mind like a hot knife through butter.

"Are you alright? " she asked anxiously.

As the pain faded he realised he was lying on the floor looking up at the concerned face of his client. Damn, he thought, no chance of a date now.

"I’m fine," he said, struggling to his feet with her help.

"You don’t look fine to me," she said. "What was that?"

"You might call it an occupational hazard," he replied, slumping back into his chair.

"And that means?"

He massaged his temples. "I have visions, they give me an edge with some of my cases, but as you’ve seen they come at a price."

"This vision, did it concern me? Cordelia? Someone else?"

"I can’t tell yet. What I can say is that it involves a dark stranger with sharp teeth."

"A vampire!" she exclaimed.

"You know of such things?" he asked in surprise.

"Oh yes," she said. "I always wear a crucifix and pack a stake along with my pepper spray."

"Pepper spray?"

"Well not all bad guys are vampires and it works almost as well as holy water if they are."

Impressed by her insouciance in the face of danger and her acceptance of supernatural matters he began to think he hadn’t blown it after all.

"I gather you’ve had some experience in this area," he ventured.

"Oh didn’t I tell you, I come from Sunnydale, the weirdness capitol of America."

"I thought that was Eerie, Indiana," he quipped.

"Only on television," she laughed.

He badly wanted to kiss her there and then, but decided not to press his luck and play it cool instead. After all he didn’t even know if she was available let alone interested in him.

"Are you staying in town?"

"Temporarily. I’m attending a computer conference over the weekend. I’ll be at the Sheraton if you need me, and this is my mobile number," she said, as she handed him her business card. "Well, I’ll leave this matter in your capable hands," she smiled. "Just be careful of that dark stranger," she added with a note of concern.

"I’ll be in touch soon," he said, and watched her being swallowed up by the dark hallway as she left the office.

It was the work of half a day to find Cordelia Chase, or Cathy Coulson, as she was now calling herself at the seedy bar where she was serving drinks to the bored clientele.

It seemed her career hadn’t taken off quite as she had expected it to. Her savings had run out and instead of becoming a big star she was now living from hand to mouth in-between mainly unsuccessful auditions. Her pride had prevented her from telling her friends about her reduced circumstances.

However, she didn’t seem to mind telling Doyle, but then he was the first man to start a conversation with her that hadn’t involved putting his hand on her ass at some point. In return he gave her the benefit of some good advice.

"It takes years to become an overnight success in this business and many don’t make it at all. Your friends know this and wouldn’t think any less of you if you told them the truth."

"You think so?" she said wistfully.

"I know so."

She looked at him quizzically. "How come?"

"Because one of them hired me to find you and make sure you were alright."

She blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment before she refocused on Doyle.

"It was Willow wasn’t it?" she said, eyes brimming with tears.

He nodded in reply.

"What will you tell her?" she asked.

"Just that you are safe and well. Or you can tell her yourself, by phone or in person."

"In person?"

"Yes, she’s in town this weekend. She’s staying at the Sheraton. I can take you to meet with her if you’d like?"

Cordelia considered the offer, then smiled. "Yes, I’d like that very much. Pick me up here at seven?"

"Seven it is."

He called Willow from the car but her mobile was off, he guessed she was probably attending a presentation. He decided to call on her in person, any excuse to see her would have done and this was as good as any. He met her in the lobby.

"Good news Willow, I’ve found her and she’s okay."

"So soon?"

"Don’t look so surprised. You did pick the best, remember?"

"How could I forget." She smiled again and he almost forgot what he had come to tell her.

"She would like to see you. I’ll bring her here about seven-thirty, if that’s alright with you?"

"That’ll be fine. Thank you Doyle," she said, shaking his hand. "I’m sorry I have to attend another seminar now, but I’ll see you again when you bring Cordelia tonight."

And with that she was gone, leaving Doyle to bask in the warmth of her smile and the tantalising aroma of her perfume. After a while he realised he was still in the lobby grinning like a village eejit. Hoping that no one had noticed he made away in some haste.

As he drove back to his office he mulled over the situation. Love at first sight, like a unicorn, he had thought was something you could only find on Ally McBeal. It seemed he was wrong.

He hadn’t had much luck with women. Since his wife had left him, life outside the job had been very lonely. He hoped this time things would be different, but how to broach the subject with Willow? That was the problem he needed to solve. The mystery that was woman, could he ever work it out?

Later that day he picked up Cordelia at the bar as arranged. She looked stunning out of uniform.

"I scarcely recognised you," he said admiringly.

"I should hope so!" she shot back. "I don’t want Willow to think I’m a bag lady do I?"

"I suppose not," he replied, as they drove off.

"You wouldn’t know if Willow was seeing anyone at present," he asked as casually as he could without seeming too eager.

Cordelia regarded him with a cool stare. "Not you as well," she said. "She attracts good men like wasps to a pot of jam, all I seem to get is the barflies."

"Is that a yes or a no," he asked hopefully.

"It’s a don’t know, we’ve been out of touch, remember?"

"Oh, yes, it’s just that…" He didn’t know quite what to say.

"If she’s available you want me to put a word in for you, is that it?"

"Well, if you could."

Cordelia rolled her eyes to the roof. "Very well, I guess I owe you something for being so nice to me." She giggled excitedly as they neared the hotel. "It’s been ages since I had a good night out. I hope Willow is in a party mood."

Doyle dropped Cordelia off at the hotel. Willow greeted her effusively and Cordelia likewise. Willow thanked Doyle again and arranged to settle the bill before she returned to Sunnydale. Doyle understood he was not wanted, made his exit, and drove off into the night.

To take his mind off Willow he hit the bars to do the usual round of his contacts. He couldn’t find anyone in his or her usual haunts. Several fruitless hours later he decided to return to his office.

The building was deserted and the office was dark and quiet. Hardly had he entered it than he heard a voice behind him.

"Mr Doyle?"

"Just call me Doyle, everyone does," he said, as he turned to greet the visitor.

As soon as he did so he recognised the tall dark stranger standing in the doorway. This was the man in his vision, the man whom he now realised was going to kill him!

"Okay Doyle," said the man. "I have a message from Tony. The message is: ‘Have a nice death.’"

He lunged at Doyle fangs bared. Doyle dodged away behind the desk, but the big vampire was not going to be put off for long. He moved this way and that, looking for a way around him, before quickly diving for the drawer containing his weapons. He was quick but the vampire was even quicker and grabbed him before he could open it. He dragged Doyle over the desk and held him in the air for a moment before slamming him down onto the desktop. Held in a vicelike grip, the fangs descended towards Doyle’s neck.

Please don’t let it hurt for long, he thought.

In a last desperate effort to stave off the inevitable he managed to grab the large glass ashtray from the desk and smash it against the side of the vampire’s head, thus making him lose his grip, he then pulled his legs up underneath him and booted the vampire away with all the might he could muster. The vampire staggered back towards the open doorway, which he completely filled as he grabbed the doorposts to stop his backward flight.

Suddenly, to Doyle’s surprise, he grimaced in pain and then exploded into a cloud of dust. Where the vampire once stood he could see Willow Rosenberg, wooden stake in hand, grinning at him.

"I told you I’m always prepared for trouble, just as well it seems."

"What brings you here?" he barely managed to say as he struggled to draw breath.

"The champagne went straight to Cordelia’s head so she had to turn in early. She’s sleeping it off in my bed as we speak. As the night was still young, and as Cordelia had mentioned that you were interested in me, I decided to pay you a visit. It seems I came not a moment too soon. Was that the man in your vision?"

"Yes."

"Well, I did tell you to be careful, didn’t I?"

"You did."

"By the way, the answer to your questions are no and yes."

"What questions?" asked the bemused Doyle.

"Am I seeing anyone and am I interested in you?"

"Oh."

"Is that all you can say? I was expecting something more romantic."

"Well, if I wasn’t lying breathless on the top of my desk, having nearly been killed by the biggest vampire I’ve ever seen, then perhaps I might have something romantic to say."

"Good point. Perhaps you need a little incentive," she said, as she stepped forward, leaned over the desk, and kissed him where he lay.

After recovering from the best kiss he had ever experienced Doyle still couldn’t think of anything she might consider romantic, so instead he said the first thing that came into his head.

"Will you marry me?"

She thought about it for what seemed the longest time that Doyle had ever known, then she smiled and said:

"Yes. I think I will," and kissed him again.