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TITLE: Moving Forward (1/3)
AUTHOR: Laura romantical@post.com
RATING: PG-14
SETTING: Doyle goes to Sunnydale to meet the gang and meets a
vision...then he has one. Willow/Doyle
DISCLAIMER: All characters are copyright Joss Whedon. We just like to
play with them.
DISTRIBUTION: Ask and ye shall receive This, and my other fics, are
archived at http://members.dencity.com/romantical1/
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Can I just say how much I miss Doyle? And this one's
for Seren, to help her with the mourning.


"Moving Forward - Part 1"

"Hello?"

Doyle pulled away from the phone as if it had bit him. "Hello?"

"Hello."

Looking over at Cordelia, he pointed at the receiver. "I thought you
said the Watcher was a stuffy, British guy."

"He is."

"Hello?" The soft, distinctly feminine voice came from the receiver.

Cordelia laughed. "It’s Willow. Say hello, Doyle."

Clearing his throat, Doyle held the phone back up. "Er, sorry there,
Doll. Hello. I’m…er…"

"Doyle?" Willow asked with a giggle. "Did you need to talk to Giles?"

"What?" Doyle shook his head. What was going wrong with him? He’d
never been at such a loss from a woman’s voice, not even during his
brief distraction with Cordelia. "Er…yeah. Um…no. If you could just
let him know that we’re going to be in town this weekend. Me and
Cordelia, that is. Angel is staying to keep the nights safe for the
unsuspecting. Or something like that. Me, I think he’s gonna brood
about something and he just wants to do it in peace and quiet."

Willow giggled again, a soft, simple sound that sent a trickle of
something down his spine. "All right. Do you need a place to stay? We
could arrange something."

"Nah, not necessary. I know a guy who knows a guy."

"All right. We’ll see you this weekend."

"All right. Wait! You don’t know what I look like."

Smiling at his rushed, breathless words, Willow giggled once more. "I’m
going to guess you’ll be the one with Cordelia."

"Cordelia. Right." Doyle nodded, feeling foolish. "I’ll see you this
weekend."

"Bye Doyle."

He stared at the receiver after she hung up, unaware of Cordelia’s gaze
on him, her eyebrows raised in question. "See you this weekend? Very
suave."

"Willow, huh?" He finally hung up the phone, turning back to the desk
and refocusing his thoughts. "She’s the quiet one, right? The
bookworm?"

"Well, she used to be. Then she got a boyfriend, stopped dressing like
a Sears poster child, stole my boyfriend and became a witch. Not
exactly your typical bookworm."

Doyle sat on the chair, propping his feet up on the edge of her desk.
"She cute?"

"She has her moments. You really think someone who wasn’t good looking
could have stolen Xander away from me? Not that her looks are better
than mine," she went on. "They’d been friends since the dawn of time,
she had the edge."

"They still together?"

Cordelia shook her head. "They never were, except for the little fling
they had. She went back to her boyfriend and Xander and I started
dismembering each other…verbally."

"And the boyfriend?" Doyle’s voice was a mixture of annoyance and
amusement. She was doing this on purpose, he was sure of it. Maybe she
did have an emotion or two for him buried deep beneath all the
hostility. "They still together?"

"I don’t think so. You’ve met him, you know. Oz."

"The werewolf?" His voice rose an octave. "You could have mentioned
that!"

"Why?" Cordelia’s look was all innocence. "Did you have plans to
seduce our little Willow?"

"Seduce?" Another octave. "I just thought the girl sounded
interesting. "I tell ya, how does a man get rid of such a vile
reputation as the one I’ve got?"

"Stop being a lazy, cheating, gambling, whoring half demon?" Cordelia
suggested.

"Right. Like that’s gonna happen." Doyle dropped his feet to the
floor. "Where’s Angel?"

"Downstairs. Moping. Brooding. Something that ends with an –ing."

"Fine. I’ll be there then."

"Fantasize…" Cordelia smirked at him, her eyes alight with humor.
"Ing?"

**

Angel looked up as the gate to the elevator opened. Doyle walked in,
settling into the seat across the table from him. "All right, I need
some help here."

"I don’t know where you can find x-ray glasses to look through
Cordelia’s clothing."

Doyle pursed his lips as Angel turned back to his book. "Very funny.
But I’m serious, man. I need some advice."

"Just ask her."

"Damn it, it’s not about Cordelia."

Angel looked up, curiosity piqued. "It’s not?" When Doyle shook his
head, he put the book down. "But it’s about a girl?"

"Yah."

"Do I know this girl?"

"So I’ve heard."

Angel’s eyes widened. "Kate?"

"Good lord, no! That woman would chew me up and spit me out! I…it’s…"

"It’s Willow," Cordelia offered from the stairs. "He’s heard her
bewitching voice and now he’s smitten."

"I’m not smitten," Doyle scoffed. "I’m just curious about people I
don’t know."

"Usually only if they owe you money," Angel reminded him. "So, Willow,
huh? And you’re meeting her this weekend. And Xander. You’ll meet
Xander. I wonder what kind of lovely nicknames he’ll come up with for
you."

"Yeah, Xander’s kind of particular about his best friends dating people
who aren’t entirely human. Although he’s dating a girl who used to be a
demon with a bad complexion, so I don’t think he should have a say."

"You really shouldn’t talk bad about yourself," Doyle threw in, watching
in delight as Cordelia got angry. Her face flushed and she turned away,
stomping back up the stairs in her new sandals. "She’s really almost
too easy a target."

"Almost." Angel nodded. He leaned back in his chair, watching Doyle.
"Willow’s nice. She’s a great girl…woman, I suppose. But she’s
also…she’s not worldly, whatever Cordelia may have said about what
happened in high school. She’s not in your league, Doyle."

"I just thought she sounded nice." He got up from the chair and went to
the elevator. "I’ve got no designs on the girl."

Angel watched him go, a small smile on his lips. "Right. I believe
you."

**

Willow opened the door of Giles’ apartment and grinned widely.
"Cordelia!" She hugged the other girl. "You must be tired from the
drive. I made Giles buy something other than tea. Thirsty?"

"Yeah." Cordelia looked past Willow. "Xander here?"

"In the kitchen, where else?" She grinned. "Help yourself. Buffy and
Giles are out buying some weapons, they’ll be back in a while."

"Oz here?"

Willow’s face fell slightly. "No. Oz left." She stepped back to let
Cordelia in and noticed the dark haired man standing behind her. "You
must be Doyle. Since you’re with Cordelia."

"At yer service." He tipped his head, his blue eyes locked on her green
ones. "You look like ye belong at home. Nestled near the hearth
telling fairy tales."

"Leprechauns and fairies?" Willow smiled. "I’m afraid I’m Jewish, not
Irish."

Without thinking, Doyle reached out and took her chin in his hand,
tilting her head, rubbing the silky skin with his thumb. "Your skin’s
like cream."

Willow reached up and placed her hand on his arm, staring into his
eyes. Shock waves seemed to rocket through her at his touch,
overwhelming her. She tilted her head, curious at the sensation. He
met her gaze, not wanting or willing to look away. Willow leaned
forward, moving closer to him, her body swaying forward as if in
response to some call. She was about to say something when suddenly,
Doyle fell forward, dragging her down with him. She rolled away,
desperate to get clear of him as he thrashed on the floor.

Cordelia grabbed her and pulled her away from Doyle. Breaking free of
her grasp, Willow moved back in and caught his arm, holding him as he
writhed. Finally, he lay still, his eyes closed as his breathing slowed
back to normal.

"You make quite an entrance," she said softly.

"Scotch? Whiskey? Vodka?" He asked, struggling to sit up.

Willow looked back and Cordelia was already there with a glass of amber
liquid. "Careful. Giles has the good stuff."

Doyle tossed it back, coughing as it burned. "Not good enough." He
took the paper Cordelia held out to him. Scribbling on it quickly, he
handed it back. "Call him. I guess we’re heading back home."

"You just got here," Willow said sadly. "Something big?"

He nodded. "But that’s not all." Wide green eyes met his, sending a
wave of heat through him. "You need to come too."

"To LA?"

"You were in the vision too, Doll. You’re essential."

"I don’t like being essential. I like being needed but not necessary.
Please?"

"Pack a bag." He tried to smile, sensing the fear in her. "I won’t let
anything happen to you."

"Neither will Angel," Cordelia reminded them both. "You’ll be fine
Willow. And if you don’t mind a ghost, you can stay with me."

She nodded, swallowing hard. "Let me tell Xander, pack some clothes and
we’ll go. Probably don’t want to tell Buffy or Giles until after the
fact. They might not agree to let me go." She grinned ruefully.
"They’re a little overprotective."

"Right. We’ll call ‘em on the road. Cordy? You stay here while I go
with her to get her things? Spend some time with Xander?"

She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. "Right." Waiting until Willow
moved away to get her purse, Cordelia lowered her voice. "Just remember
she doesn’t know what you are. And I do."

"And what would telling her accomplish?"

"Just quit with the Xander cracks, okay?"

Doyle nodded, smiling thinly. "You must still quite like him if they
bother you."

"Hey Willow," Cordelia said loudly, "Did you know Doyle is half demon?"

**

The ride to Willow’s dorm was silent, save for her instructions. Doyle
stared straight ahead, not wanting to see her face. When he pulled in
front of her house, she turned to him. "It’s okay."

"What?"

"I don’t care."

He looked at her. "Don’t care about what?"

Willow held up her hand and raised a finger for each sentence.
"Point. My last boyfriend was a werewolf. Point. My best friend’s
boyfriend was one of the most vicious killers of all time. Point. My
other best friend is dating a woman who used to avenge women who had
been wronged. So, meeting a half demon doesn’t bother me."

"You ever seen a half demon?"

She shook her head. "Nope. A couple of full demons, a lot of
vampires, a Hellmouth, a werewolf, and a few other big bad things, but
not a half-demon."

He smiled, his irritation draining away. "You’re a nice person."

"Yeah. It’s my curse." She nodded. "I’m doomed."

A brief flash of his vision clouded his mind. "Go get your things,
Doll. I’ll wait for you here."

**

"So, we’re going to need a witch," Doyle finished summarizing what he
remembered of his vision. "It’s a pretty powerful coven, but with
Angel’s history with spells and you’re power…You’re quite likely to do
us a good turn."

"I should warn you that not all of my spells go the way I plan them. I
sort of…" Willow looked away, flushing with embarrassment. "I sort of
have a friend who is still a rat. I can’t quite get her de-ratted. I’m
afraid she’s going to be really mad at me when I do."

"Amy’s still a rat?" Cordelia asked from the driver’s seat. "Wow. I
hope she likes cheese."

Doyle placed his hand on Willow’s, giving Cordelia a dirty look in the
rear view mirror. "Don’t worry about it, Doll. I doubt there will be
any rat issues comin’ up."

She smiled, a small laugh sneaking out. Tilting her head, Willow looked
intently at Doyle. "You’re not what I expected from Cordelia’s emails."

"She talked about me?" Doyle raised his eyebrows. "And I didn’t think
she cared." He ignored the look Cordelia sent him in the mirror,
instead focusing on Willow. "What did you expect?"

"Well, I thought you might be more of a jerk. She said you were a lot
like Xander on his worst days." Willow smiled more widely. "Of course,
our opinions of Xander’s worst days are a little different. To me,
they’re whenever I would walk on them kissing. To her, I think I’m more
in the culprit spot."

"Oh no. I’m completely over that," Cordelia stated. "Xander’s worst
days are more along the lines of when he would make jokes about
everything, especially when you were trying to have a serious
conversation with him."

Willow shrugged and nodded. "Okay, we do have the same opinion of
Xander’s worst days." Looking back at Doyle, she reached over and
touched his hand. "So far, you’ve completely blown my preconceived
notions out of the water."

He turned his hand over so that her fingers grazed his palm. As she
touched him, soft and simple, a flash of pain slammed through Doyle,
accompanying another vision. He jerked back, slamming his head into the
window. He cried out and slumped down into his seat.

"Grab the bottle under the front seat," Cordelia said tersely. "Quick.
He’s going to need it."

Willow did as she asked, watching helplessly as Doyle continued to
suffer. "Do they always come like this?"

"Not so often usually. Something big must be brewing down in LA. Got
your seatbelt on?" Cordelia didn’t even wait for Willow to answer
before she pressed her foot hard on the gas. Doyle groaned, as he was
slammed forward into her seat, ending up hunched between the two seats.

"Christ, Cordelia. I’m sufferin’ enough, ain’t I?" He struggled his
way back up onto the seat and took the bottle from Willow’s outstretched
hand. Cracking the seal on it, he swallowed half of it, grimacing all
the while. "This is the last time I let Angel buy the booze. He’s got
no taste."

"What did you see?"

"Just a little more detail. We need to get home, right away." He
watched Willow out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he was doing
the right thing. "Hey Red?"

"Yes?"

Doyle lowered his voice. "We need to talk. I haven’t been…completely
honest."

"Now?"

"As soon as we get to the office." He managed a weak smile. "You might
want a little privacy."

**

Angel was standing in the doorway when Doyle’s car squealed to stop in
front of the building. Willow and Doyle climbed out and Cordelia took
off again. "You let her drive your car?"

"I needed to tell Willow a bit about what was going on." He shrugged.
"She was good, for the most part. And by the time she wasn’t, she wasn’t
at my request."

Angel nodded and turned his attention to Willow. "Hello."

"Hi Angel." She stepped forward and hugged him shyly. He stood still
for a moment before wrapping his arms around her and hugging her in
return. Pulling back, she grinned. "Do you have a restroom?"

"Right this way," he said with a laugh. He guided her through the
office and down into his apartment, noting with amusement that Doyle was
right on her heels. When Willow closed the door behind her, Doyle
grabbed his arm and pulled him into the kitchen.

"We’re in trouble, Boss."

"What?" Angel’s amusement faded immediately. "What’s the problem?"

"Her." Doyle gestured back to the bathroom. "She was in the vision I
had in Sunnydale, and I promise it wasn’t the kind of vision I wanted to
have with her in it." He sank down on a chair. "She’s in danger."

"Then why bring her here?"

"Because we need her help."

"Is helping us putting her in danger?" Angel’s voice lowered.

"No. Well, yes and no. There’s a coven of witches, working some bad
mojo. They’re looking to do some serious damage. If we defeat them
now, she’ll be in a bit of danger helping us fight them. But if she’s
not here, they’re gonna win their fight with us and go after her. And
then she’ll have no one to help her."

"So this is the lesser of two evils?" Angel nodded. "Did you tell her
any of this?"

Doyle looked sheepish. "Nah."

"Doyle."

"It’s okay," Willow said from the hallway. "I kind of suspected I was
the key to all of this." She walked in and sat between them. "Buffy’s
been having dreams too. They’re vague right now, but every time she
wakes up, she comes over and makes sure I’m okay. I thought I might be
headed for trouble."

"I’m sorry, Willow."

She smiled her thanks at Angel. "It’s okay. I’m hoping that I can help
and not just get captured or something."

"So, she’s staying here?" Angel asked Doyle.

Doyle tried to suppress the unexpected surge of jealousy that flared up
in him. The thought of Willow, alone here with Angel…hell, alone with
anyone filled him with annoyance. "I…I suppose. This place is as
secure as any."

"Actually," Angel gave him a small smile, almost as if he could read
Doyle’s thoughts. "With the sewer entrance and the office being open
all day, it might be better if she stayed somewhere a little more
secure." Smiling even more at Doyle’s hopeful look, he went on.
"Although at your place, she would be at risk of every bill collector
and every thug or goon sent to squeeze a little money out of everyone’s
favorite debtor."

"Hey! I’ve got most of the money I owe paid back."

"But at Cordelia’s she doesn’t have anyone to watch over her, except a
completely cowed ghost. What if you and she both stay at Cordelia’s? I
kind of like the thought of you having a chaperone."

"Me or him?" Willow asked.

Angel grimaced, having forgotten Willow was in the room. "Him. You, I
trust."

"Won’t Cordy mind?"

"I’ll ask her sweetly," Doyle muttered, getting out of his chair and
heading up the stairs. Angel watched him go with an amused grin.

"You like torturing him."

"It’s a good kind of torture," Angel said softly, wondering if he was
doing the right thing, allowing Doyle to spend time alone with Willow.

"He’s a good friend?"

"About what I deserve," Angel admitted. He turned his gaze to Willow.
"How is she?"

"Surviving. Getting better. There are days…well, every day I’ll look
over and see a sadness in her eyes, but it doesn’t hold her down like it
used to. She’ll never be over you, but she’s trying hard to move on."

"Good," he sighed. "I…"

"I know. She still loves you too." Willow stood up and looked around.
"This is nice. Dark, but nice. I guess dark is nice for you." Taking
a deep breath, she faced him. "What…is Doyle okay? Someone I can trust
through all this?"

"Yeah," Angel didn’t pause.

She nodded, biting her lower lip. "Good."

"I wouldn’t trust you with anyone I didn’t trust implicitly."

"Thanks Angel."

Doyle smiled to himself as he crept up the last few stairs to actually
complete his mission and talk to Cordelia. Angel trusted him, which
meant Willow did. And if she could trust the vampire that had once held
her lovely neck up to his fangs, well…odds were good that she could
trust a half demon with less than completely honorable intentions.

**

"I can’t believe you have to stay at my apartment," Cordelia groaned.
"You’re a slob."

"I am not! I’ve got a perfectly neat apartment. Besides, you forget I
saw where you lived before this, ducks."

"Right." Cordelia snapped her mouth closed, effectively killing the
subject. "So, Willow, I guess you can sleep in the spare bedroom and
Doyle can sleep on the couch. But tonight, you guys are on your own. I
have a date and I’m not going to break it just to baby-sit."

"Don’t worry, Cordy, I can take care of her."

"I can take good care of myself," Willow reminded him. And herself, her
mind whispered. "And you should have fun on your date, Cordelia. I’ve
got a spell or two up my sleeve if Doyle gets out of hand."

Cordelia smiled and pulled into her parking spot. "Okay, here are the
keys. I’m so late, so you’re going to have to let yourselves in. And
remember, don’t invite any vampires in, it’s tough to get the dust out
of the carpet. And Dennis doesn’t vacuum."

"Dennis?" Willow asked.

"My ghost roommate. I mentioned him."

"Right." Willow nodded and climbed out of the car. "We’ll see you
later."

Doyle took the keys from her hand and led her to Cordelia’s apartment.
Swinging the door open for her, he took her bag and guided the way to
the guest bedroom. "This was Dennis’ room, but I’m sure if we ask
nicely, he’ll close his eyes when you’re changin’."

"Dennis is nice, right?"

"Oh sure. The boy’s as whipped as can be. Cowed by his Ma and then
Cordelia. You barely even have to raise your voice." He sat down on
the side of the bed. "So, Red. What say you and I do a little
brainstorming and see if we can come up with a plan?"

"Why don’t you tell me what you saw?" Willow sat next to him, her hand
brushing his. "In your vision."

Doyle stood up immediately, pacing the small room. "They’re not visions
so much as flashes of information. Faces, names, places. It’s like a
download of nouns. There’s never any real insight as to what’s going
wrong or what’s going to happen. It’s just…it’s nothing much,
especially for all the pain that come along with ‘em."

"What did you see this time?"

"You," he admitted.

"Just me?" Willow tilted her head, smiling slightly. "Me in danger? Me
kicking demon ass? Me…"

"Well, I’d like to say it was you in sexy lingerie, but I’m never that
lucky."

Willow blushed and looked away from him. "Well, as I don’t actually own
anything that could be construed as sexy lingerie, I think that’s a good
thing. So, what was I doing?"

"Dying."

"Oh." Her voice seemed small, even to her own ears.

"I saw you, bleeding…cut open. Then I saw a gathering of faces, dark
and foreboding, I guess you could say. Then I saw a nightclub and a
symbol."

"A symbol?"

He pulled a small book out of his pocket. "I nabbed this from Angel’s.
I doubt he’ll miss it until I tell him about it tomorrow, but I thought
there was no point in us sitting around doing nothing tonight." He
thumbed through the pages until he found the one he wanted. Handing it
to her, he watched her eyes as she looked at the picture then read the
caption.

"That doesn’t bode well, does it?"

"It means sacrifice."

"I read that."

"It means a blood debt." Doyle took the book from her trembling hands.
"It means that someone thinks you owe your life for a promise you or one
of your ancestors made. It means…"

"It means I’m going to die."

Doyle set the book on the bed and knelt before her. "Nah, Red. It
doesn’t mean that. It just means that we need to figure out what’s
going on and do what we can to fix it." He took her hands and looked up
into her green eyes. "It’s a coven of renegade witches, delving into
sorcery more powerful than your average Wicca. It’s…"

"How do you know that if all you saw was their faces?"

"Well, that sort of brings us to the reason I know about the symbol as
well. One of the faces…one of the people after you, is ah…sort of an
ex-girlfriend of mine. I sort of made her a promise that I didn’t keep
and I had to face this thing too."

"But you’re alive."

"Yah. But you don’t want to know…well; let’s just say they got their
blood. Only the fact that I’m part demon saved me. And since you," he
reached out and touched her cheek, brushing his thumb along the creamy
skin. "Are most definitely all human, I’d rather they didn’t take their
pound of flesh…or internal organs in this case."

"Do you think your ex-girlfriend would tell you why they were after me?"

"Probably, but I doubt I could get the information back to you after she
cut off my head, which she’s likely to do if she sees me again."

"Oh."

"But we do have an advantage."

"We do?" Willow looked skeptical. "Other than the fact that you still
have a head?"

"Yeah. You see, you’re a witch. The power you’ve got…it radiates off
you, especially to a non-human entity. Not like a beacon or anything,
more like an aura. We’re gonna put you in a situation where they can
see that. That’s going to make them think twice, wonder if they can get
you to settle the promise or, if not that, come over to their side.
Which is where the nightclub comes in."

"The nightclub?"

"From my vision."

"Right." Willow nodded. "Am I supposed to be following all of this?"

"The nightclub is their hangout. It’s where they go for new recruits,
using their power to sway women to their side and wield their power over
men. It’s sort of like a haven for sexual brokering. They’ve got the
power and they use it, ya know what I mean?"

"Not at all."

Doyle sighed. "Red, you’re gorgeous, but this innocent act can be a
bitch."

"It’s not an act."

"That’s why it’s a bitch." He got to his feet and left the room.
Willow followed him after a few minutes. He was staring into the
fireplace. When she was about to touch him, he turned. "All women have
power. With men, the power usually manifests itself in the ability to
arouse us, turn us on. You just move or talk or touch and we’re
helpless as a newborn. You’ve got it in spades, simply because you’re
so unaware of it."

The hand she had outstretched to touch his shoulder before he turned
fell to her side. "So I go to this nightclub and act oblivious to the
fact that men want me and they come after me trying to capture me or
convert me?"

"Well, that would be convenient, but I don’t think it’s quite right."
He moved away from her, sitting on the couch. "You see, the innocent
thing only works on men. Women think you’re going for the cheap score.
So you’re going to have to come across as someone who knows she’s got
the power and ain’t afraid to use it."

"And so we’re going to find someone else to play my part?"

"You mean to tell me," Doyle leaned forward. "That you have no idea
that you’re beautiful? You’ve got no clue that you’re sexy? You’re
completely oblivious to the fact that men stare after you when you walk
by?"

Willow blushed and shook her head. "The only guy that ever looked at me
was Oz. Well, and Xander for a little while, but no one else."

"Then you’re as blind as you think they are," Doyle stated strongly.
"All right, if you can’t find your own confidence, we’ll make you up a
batch."

"What?"

He stood and took her arm, guiding her to the guestroom. "Nothing.
We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Get a good night’s sleep." He looked
around the room sternly. "And Dennis? No peeking."

Shutting the door behind him, Doyle leaned against it, forcing his
breathing to slow. Touching her, thinking about her all dressed up and
actually, deliberately trying to seduce someone had elevated his blood
pressure and sent the demon in his blood racing through his veins.

This little witch was going to be far more dangerous to him than any
coven of witches were likely to be to her.


"Moving Forward - Part 2"

"I’m tellin’ ya, Angel man, the girl is completely clueless when it
comes to her feminine wiles. There’s no way she can pull this off on
her own."

"The spell is dangerous."

"The spell is as harmless as a darker shade of lipstick and a bit
shorter skirt."

"And where you’re concerned, that’s dangerous."

"I’m not the one she’s goin’ after. She’s not goin’ after anyone, as a
matter of fact. She’s just gonna be dancin’ with Cordelia."

"Trying to turn on every man in the place."

"That’s why you and I are goin’ ta be there to escort ‘em home."

Angel looked up from the symbol. "No."

"Angel, if she doesn’t get in their good graces and give them the
opportunity to change their minds, she’s going to end up short a few
things she’s gonna be needin’ to keep livin’."

"You don’t even know if this coven is going to be willing to forgive and
forget. Or forgive and brainwash. No."

"But…"

"The answer is no."

"I want to do it." Willow walked into Angel’s office. "I don’t want to
be scared, Angel. I want it finished. And you and Doyle can protect
me. And I can protect myself too."

"Willow…"

"If I don’t do this now, they’ll keep hunting for me. And when they
find me, I might not have anyone like you or Doyle…or Buffy around to
save me."

Doyle raised an eyebrow at Buffy’s name. She was bringing out the big
guns. Angel sighed. "If you get hurt…"

"I know you won’t let anyone hurt me." She sat on the edge of his
desk. "I trust you to take care of me. You’ve saved my life before,
why shouldn’t I put myself in your hands?"

"Because I’ve tried to sink my teeth into your neck?"

Jealousy surged through Doyle once more. Angel had threatened to kill
her and she trusted him. She was willing to put her life in his
hands. She was practically begging him to watch over her. Standing
up, Doyle pictured Willow in a short skirt, make-up and a clingy blouse,
dancing with Cordelia in a smoky club. He bit back a groan at the
image, turning to look at Angel.

Bastard was grinning from ear to ear, and Doyle knew he’d heard him.
"Maybe it’s not such a good plan, Willow," he started.

"That wasn’t you, Angel. Stop trying to take credit for it." She
turned to Doyle, her green eyes innocent of the knowledge of what he’d
been thinking. She smiled at him and he knew that he had no choice.
"So, tell me about your ex-girlfriend and we’ll start planning
strategy."

**

"No."

"Cordelia, don’t you want to help?" Doyle’s eyes pleaded with her. "I
know that it goes against everythin’ in your personal code of conduct.
I know that you’re so straight and narrow you’d never even think of
tryin’ to deceive someone. But these are the bad guys. We’re allowed
to lie to them."

"You don’t want me to lie," she reminded him. "You want me to act like
a slut."

"And how’s that different than trying to sell yerself to the man with
the biggest wallet?" Doyle asked, exasperated. "I’m asking for you,
for one night, to put aside the latest CEO of the month and help out an
old friend. Be the good guy…or girl as the case may be."

"Does Willow know what you want? Because I just can’t see her agreeing
to this."

"That’s the other part where you come in handy."

"Oh no. NO. You’re not going to make me do this. You want me to tell
her too? That’s not lying to the bad guys, Doyle…Francis.
That’s…that’s…"

"What?" He asked, ignoring her mention of his first name. "It’s
helping the girl stay alive."

"You sure you’re not just trying to get your jollies off watching us?"

"Positive." His voice quivered slightly and Cordelia raised an
eyebrow. "Okay, so I’m a man. I admit that, but that’s not why we’re
doin’ it. I mean, Angel’s gonna be there."

"Not during the rehearsal."

"Well," Doyle wracked his brain, trying to think of the right thing to
say. "You won’t either. I mean, except for tomorrow. Tonight, you can
do whatever you want and I’ll ease her into it."

"Into what?" Cordelia gave him a knowing look.

"The thing…the strategy of what we’re going to do."

Shaking her head, Cordelia grabbed her purse. "Well, you do that,
Doyle. Ease her into it. But tonight, when I come home, don’t expect
me to extract the pencil you’re liable to have sticking out of your gut
should you try anything."

"Right," he said to the closed door, as it slammed shut behind her.
"I’ll keep that in mind."

**

Willow sat on the edge of the couch, looking up at Doyle and Angel with
wide, unbelieving eyes. "This is your strategy?"

"Well, I mentioned that they’re into power, right?"

"Power? Since when has that been synonymous with lesbianism?"

"I’m not askin’ ya to be a lesbian." Doyle looked to Angel for help,
sneering at the vampire when he saw his wide grin. "Ya just have ta
dance with Cordy. For a while."

"Dance. As in dance or…." Willow wrinkled her brow. "Like…a sexy
dance?"

"Both?" Doyle asked.

"I don’t dance. I can waltz. Giles taught me that. And I can…well,
what Xander taught me isn’t important. And Oz and I…well, I can’t do
*that* with Cordelia. We’d look stupid."

"We’re gonna teach ya."

Willow looked to Angel for guidance, just as annoyed as Doyle when she
saw his smile. "Don’t you have someone to rescue or something?"

"I thought I was here in case you needed rescuing." He tried to
suppress his smile and failed miserably. "But if you don’t…"

"Go away," Doyle and Willow chorused in unison.

Angel shrugged and left the room, throwing a smile back in Doyle’s
direction. The half demon ignored him, turning to Cordelia’s stereo
system.

"All I’m askin’ is that ya trust me," he said softly. "I know these
women and you’re going to have to be a little more hardened to get into
their good graces. You’re a sweet person and they’ll eat you
alive…literally, if you don’t impress them. Will you trust me, Willow?"

She stood up, sighing heavily. "I don’t have much choice, do I?"

"Your vote of confidence is duly noted," he stated.

"I do trust you, Doyle." She smiled weakly. "I’m just not sure I’m up
to being the femme fatale."

"Don’t worry. With a few lessons from me, you’ll be knockin’ ‘em dead."

**

Willow watched skeptically as Doyle proceeded to bump and grind his way
across the room. After a few seconds of being entertained by him, she
couldn’t help but laugh. "Doyle? Please tell me you don’t want me to
dance like that? I mean, I never thought I’d find anyone who danced
*worse* than Xander."

"I dance just fine, thank ye very much." He drew himself up to his full
height, completely insulted. "Besides, you’re a fine one to talk,
actin’ like you don’t know how to dance at all."

"I don’t."

"Liar." He strode over to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her up onto
her feet. His hands rested loosely on her waist as he slowly rocked
forward. Willow responded, pulling away from him, as they began to sway
slowly. "Ye see, it’s just like making love, only you do the
opposite." He blushed, refusing to look at her. The words hadn’t been
planned; in fact, he’d thought them and tried to say something else just
to get the thought of her – sweaty, rumpled and sated – out of his mind.

Willow’s green eyes widened, slightly surprised. They moved slowly to
no music, both of them watching the other without actually sharing a
gaze. Suddenly, the CD player started, a sensual tune issuing forth
from the speakers.

"Damn you, Dennis," Doyle breathed, looking up, unable to stop from
catching Willow’s eye. "He’s sort of a romantic ghost."

"What does that have to do with us?" She asked breathlessly,
unconsciously altering her rhythm so that their movements were mimicking
the other, their bodies swaying, moving closer, brushing against one
another. Willow’s hand slid off Doyle’s shoulder, moving down to his
arm then his hip.

"Absolutely nothin’." He stated, matching her movements as well, his
hand slipping around her waist. "We’re as far from romance as you could
possibly get."

"Exact…" Willow stopped, unable to speak with the pressure of Doyle’s
lips on hers. Her fingers curled against his hip, holding him closely
as they stopped dancing, moving into a much more private embrace.
Doyle’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her to him, feeling the brush
of her body against his. His tongue swept across her lips, asking for
invitation. Willow surrendered, opening her mouth, sucking on his
tongue as it penetrated the warmth of her mouth.

Pulling her even closer, Doyle pressed her body tightly to his. Willow
moaned softly, her whole body tingling from the contact as she finally
broke the kiss. Her eyes were wide as they met his. "Did I do that?"

He brought one of his hands up, pressing his fingertips lightly against
her swollen lips. Her tongue darted out, brushing against the warm
skin. "You did somethin’," he admitted.

Realizing she was still in his embrace – an exceptionally intimate
embrace – Willow blushed. She could feel exactly what she’d done.
"Oh."

Doyle swallowed hard and stepped back. "Well, I…uh…" He cleared his
throat. "I think you’ll have no trouble with the…the…uh, tomorrow. I
would…well, leave off the last part when you’re dancin’ with the
princess, eh?"

Willow giggled. "You think?"

"Well, I don’t know that Cordy would appreciate any of it. Although
every male in the place watchin’ most likely would." He took her elbow
and guided her toward the guestroom. "Now, go get some rest." He
stopped in the doorway, fighting the temptation to go in. "Sweet
dreams."

Willow leaned into him, kissing him softly on the cheek. "Night
Doyle." She ducked into the room, closing the door behind her.

Sighing in relief, Doyle started back to the living room for another
night on the couch. Her voice stopped him at the end of the hall.

"Doyle?"

"Yah?"

"When you said every male in the place? Did you mean you and Angel
too?"

An image shot through Doyle’s mind and he knew he had to get her behind
a locked door, away from him. "Well, I can’t speak for the vampire, but
for myself…I would appreciate just watchin’ you breathe." Especially if
you were struggling to do so, my body over yours and… Doyle cut off his
thought and smiled in response to Willow’s embarrassed grin. "Night."

"Goodnight."

**

Angel looked up at Doyle and barely managed to stifle a laugh. He
looked horrible. "What happened to you?"

The Irishman shook his had and sank down across from his boss. "Rough
night."

"What did she do to you?"

"Nothin’. Well, not exactly nothin’, but close enough. I just couldn’t
sleep."

A small smirk decorated the vampire’s face. "What exactly happened?"

"I’ll tell you," Cordelia burst into the office, glaring daggers at
Doyle. "I come home at a nice, decent hour…"

"Four AM," Doyle noted.

Cordelia ignored him. "And find him," she pointed meaningfully at
Doyle. "Sitting around in his boxers and T-shirt, playing poker with
three other demons and watching a porn film!"

"Which I was pleased to note you weren’t in," Doyle added.

Her eyes widened and she took a menacing step forward. Angel got up
from his desk and grabbed her shoulders, maneuvering her to the door.
"I’ll talk with him." He shut the door behind her and turned around.
"Nothing, huh?"

Doyle buried his face in his hands. "God, Angel. It took every ounce
of willpower I had to stay out of her room last night. And I have
little enough of that as it is."

"Poker?"

"I needed to keep my mind busy. And there’s nothin’ better for that
than losin’ money."

"Porn film?"

"Just in case she walked out and noticed…somethin’."

Angel’s look was skeptical. "Boxer shorts?"

"Ah, the four of us did that just fer Cordelia’s benefit."

"And did Willow see any of this?"

"Well…"

"Doyle?"

"When Cordelia started chasing me, I sort of ran into Willow’s room to
hide."

Angel struggled to control his grin. "In your boxers?"

"Yah."

"After the porn?"

"Well, the psychotic Cordelia took care of that…particular problem. At
least until Dennis tripped me and I landed on top of a certain warm
redhead." He paused. "Dennis, for a ghost, has fine aim."

Angel started to say something then stopped. Looking at Doyle, he
started again. "What exactly does that mean?"

"I landed face down on her chest." Unable to help it, Angel laughed.
Doyle glared at him, his cheeks tinged red. "At least it kept her from
noticin’ me problem. Which was suddenly back. Full force." He watched
as Angel kept laughing at his expense. "Keep with the chucklin’, boyo."

"What…" Struggling for control, Angel tried to speak. "What did Willow
do?"

"She woke up."

"And?"

"And said if I didn’t get off, she was going to make sure the coven got
me head."

Sensing more, Angel suppressed his grin. "And?"

"Well, I hadn’t had any sleep, I was fearin’ for me life, as ready as a
teenage boy and…"

"And?"

"And she’d just told me to get off."

The vampire’s eyes widened and he sucked in unneeded air. "You didn’t."

"So I told her to do that, she would have to let me do more than kiss
her."

"Kiss her?" Cordelia’s voice came from the now open door. Incredulity
was etched on her face. "You kissed her?"

"It was a mutual thing," Doyle defended.

"And what…" Angel snickered. "What happened then?"

"She kneed me in the groin and ran for the bathroom." Doyle shook his
head. "Which is where the other three demons hid when the prom queen
here went on her rampage. She screamed, tried to turn, slipped and
knocked herself out."

Angel lost the battle and leaned against his desk for support as he
laughed. Doyle stood up and paced the office.

"You know, it really isn’t funny. She’s probably lying there,
half-conscious, thinking I’m the biggest pervert in the world."

"You left her there? Unconscious?"

"Not unconscious. Sleeping. I think." Cordelia shook her head.
"Anyway Doyle: One – She knows Xander Harris, so you have competition.
Two – you are the world’s biggest pervert, so she’s not far off base."

Doyle sighed. "Cordelia? Could you just go away?"

"Fine." The wounded look in her eyes didn’t escape the notice of either
man, but neither of them went after her. Angel sobered and reached out
to catch Doyle’s arm.

"Let me ask you this, Doyle. And be honest?"

"A…all right."

"What are your intentions when it comes to Willow? She’s not the kind
of girl you’re used to."

"She’s the kind of girl I married, Angel." He pulled out of Angel’s
grip and headed for the door. "I’m going to go back and try and get her
to talk to me. Hopefully I’ll live through the experience."

**

Willow looked at herself in the mirror, frowning at the small bump on
her forehead. The note taped to the glass did little to make her feel
better. As if "Gone to Angel’s" was any explanation for what had
happened last night. Sighing softly, she smiled.

Last night.

Doyle had kissed her last night. Danced with her and held her, kissed
her softly and tenderly and then a little more.

Shaking her head, she laughed at herself. "You’re going crazy,
Rosenberg. It didn’t mean anything."

"Didn’t it then?"

She looked up, surprised to see Doyle’s reflection in the mirror. "Did
it? To you, I mean."

He crossed his arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket
crinkling. "I’m sorry about what happened. In your room. I didn’t
mean what I said…well, I did, but not the way it came out…er, happened.
I wasn’t tryin’ to take advantage of ya, is what I’m tryin’ ta say."

"I know that. Now. Waking up, finding you where you were…are you all
right?" She asked with wide eyes, quickly glancing down to her target
area. "I mean…I’m so sorry."

"Well, Dennis deserves to be exorcised for putting me through it, but
I’ll survive. We demons are made of sturdier stuff."

"So I saw. Do all demons wear boxer shorts?"

"Only the green scaly ones, the orange flaming ones and the blue oozy
ones. The rest are strictly brief demons."

She smiled, her whole demeanor lightening. "It did mean something,
right Doyle?"

"Me real name is…is Francis. Er, Allen Francis."

"Francis." She nodded. "Doyle suits you better."

"I thought so."

Ducking her head so that her bangs fell in front of her eyes, Willow
blushed. "It meant something…a lot of something to me. I haven’t…" She
shrugged. "When Oz left, I didn’t feel particularly…anything, other
than hurt. It was nice to feel again."

"I’m not looking to be someone to take his place," Doyle stated firmly.
"I’ll admit that I like you. Find you incredibly sexy and charming, I’d
go so far as to say. But I’m…"

"I’m not looking for someone to replace Oz. Although I wouldn’t mind
someone to…to…" She stepped closer, closing the short distance between
them. Her hand touched his lips as his had done to hers the night
before. "I don’t suppose I could get you to kiss me again? I mean,
it’s been a while and if I’m going to make it look convincing with Cordy
tonight, I’m going to need a lot more practice."

He grinned against her fingertips. "Happy to oblige."

"Just one question?" She tilted her head, her eyes glinting
mischievously. "What exactly is ‘Galactic Amazon Vixens from Planet
Triple X?"

Doyle’s whole face flamed red. "Uh…"

"Because it was in the VCR. Was that more of my practice?"

Recalling his favorite scene in the movie, Doyle whimpered. "You want
me to kiss you or take you right here in the bathroom?"

"Let’s start with a kiss, shall we?"

Dumbstruck, he couldn’t even manage a reply.

**

There was very little distance between them to start with, so it was
easy for Willow to just move into Doyle’s arms. He tilted his head,
brushing her forehead with a soft kiss. She smiled, raising her lips to
meet his. "I haven’t done this…I mean, really and on purpose for a long
time."

"Don’t worry, I’ll help you with anything you don’t remember." Doyle’s
breath was soft on her upturned face as he touched the tip of her nose
with his. "You’re sure? Because if you’re wantin’ to say no, now would
be the best time."

"No nos. Not from me." Willow’s tongue darted out, moistening her
lips. "You?"

"Not in the…" he reeled back, releasing her quickly. His head slammed
into the door and he morphed into his demon face as visions lanced
through his mind. Willow’s eyes widened, with shock or horror he
couldn’t be sure, as he fell to the floor.

His first thought was to slip back to human. He did so as soon as he
could, refusing to look up at her. He fought to get his breath back,
trying not to picture her face.

"Did you…did you want a drink?"

"No." He sat up, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He
ventured a look in her direction. She’d sunk down to the floor beside
him and he expected…he wasn’t sure what he expected. But it certainly
wasn’t the sight of her, sitting there, her green eyes filled with
concern. "Did I hurt you?"

"Me? No." She shook her head and reached a hand out, touching his
cheek. "Does it hurt?"

He knew she meant his head, but he deliberately misunderstood her.
"Changing?"

Shrugging, Willow moved closer to him. "Sure." Her fingers trailed
over his face, learning all the contours of it. "You’re poky-er than I
expected. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone like you."

"It’s just on the face," he said softly, his breath brushing her hands.
"Well, and one other place, but that’s got nothin’ to do with bein’ a
demon."

Willow giggled, moving still closer. "I’m not afraid of you, you know.
Not of what you are."

"I’m beginnin’ to realize that."

"It’s about time." She leaned in and brushed his lips with her own.
"Do we have time for me to kiss you or was it a pressing vision about me
getting my organs removed?"

"You say the most romantic things," Doyle pulled her onto his lap,
carefully adjusting her so that she wouldn’t feel exactly how much she
was affecting him. "Pressing vision," he nodded. "But there’s always
time for you to kiss me."

He bent his head; his eyes focused on her parted lips. Licking his own,
he moved to press closer to her, capturing the soft, damp pinkness when
the bedroom door opened and Cordelia walked in.

"Are you guys…oh. Ew. Stop it. Not in my house. And not now. Angel
wants you both to come to the office. Something big is starting." She
slammed the door behind her, not wanting to watch them disentangle
themselves from each other.

"Something big is starting," Willow whispered, not talking about Angel’s
dire warning at all.

Doyle nodded, an impish grin on his face. "That it is."

**

Cordelia rolled her eyes in Angel’s direction as she led the way into
his office. Willow followed her, Doyle close behind. "You owe me extra
for that trip. It’s bad enough when he’s being Doyle, but when he
thinks he’s being charming?" She shivered.

"You’re just not used to it," Doyle stated. "I grow on ya."

Angel cleared his throat. "Are you two finished?" They both nodded,
sitting in chairs opposite his desk. Willow looked from one to the
other then sat on the arm of Doyle’s chair. "Cordelia found this
outside the office. I think you should have a look at it."

Doyle leaned forward, doing his best to ignore how close she was to
him. He took the long, flat, mailing envelope Angel held and opened
it. Blood fell from the opening. Willow shivered beside him. "Well,
they know you’re here. They know you’re with us."

"How?" She asked quietly. All the humor that had buoyed her spirits
through the thoughts of upcoming doom faded away. "How do they know so
much?"

"They’ve been watching you, most likely." Doyle grabbed Angel’s
trashcan and poured the blood into it. He knew the smell was getting to
the vampire. "And trust me, boss. It’s not wasting, here. This is
tainted blood, most likely. Generally, the blood sent to announce the
debt is laced with poison or some other such thing. Trying to slow down
the victim’s body systems so that she…or he is easier to subdue. It’s a
bit easier to cut into someone when they’re not puttin’ up a fight."

"I don’t like these people," Cordelia stated. "I think it’s important
that everyone know that."

"Good. That will keep you alert tonight at the club. No getting
sidetracked by any fancy boy that walks by." Doyle pulled a piece of
bloody jewelry from the envelope. "I promise they’re not worth your
efforts."

"What is that?" Willow leaned closer, her breath warm on his skin. "Is
it a necklace?"

"Yeah." Doyle held it up by its chain; his eyes focused on the gem at
the center of the delicate filigree design. "It’s the summoning stone."

"Summoning stone?" Cordelia asked before Willow could.

"When you owe a blood debt to this particular group, they call you out.
Sometimes there are dreams first, but I seem to have gotten those for
her." He looked at Willow, smiling affectionately. "But then there’s
the summoning stone, which, if you stare at it long enough, tells you
what your debt is. It’s surrounded by tainted blood, masking its
intention. They’re pretty powerful stones; they can hold a world of
knowledge in them. If they fall into the wrong hands…with the wrong
information on them, you get in a lot of trouble."

Willow was staring at the gem, noting how there was no blood on it,
despite the package it had come in. "Tonight." She whispered.

"What?" Angel looked over at her, surprised she’d spoken.

"It’s tonight. Well, tomorrow morning at 2 AM. That’s when I’m to meet
with them."

Doyle’s eyes left the necklace and went to Willow. She looked pale and
scared. "Does it tell ya what your debt is?" She started trembling and
Doyle tossed the necklace to Angel, catching her just before she fell.
Her whole body shook in his hands and he pulled her close. "It’s all
right, Doll. It’s okay. I’ve got ya. Tell me what it said."

She shook her head, confused. Her green eyes were scared as they met
Doyle’s blue ones. "Nothing. Only that I’m going to die."


"Moving Forward - Part 3"

Doyle settled Willow down on the couch, sitting next to her and wrapping
his arm around her. "You gonna be okay?"

She nodded. "At least until 2AM."

"Angel and I aren’t goin’ ta let anything happen to ya."

"I know." She nodded and looked over at him. "I do know that, Doyle.
I trust you."

He grinned gently. "Ya. Well, you’re a crazy thing for doin’ that.
But I appreciate it."

"Will you do something for me?"

"Ya mean besides save yer life?"

"Kiss me?"

He nodded, moving closer. "That, my dear lady, I can do."

"And do quite well."

Both Willow and Doyle froze at the voice, their eyes moving to where a
figure stepped from the shadows. A beautiful young woman stood there,
auburn hair cascading down her back in soft curls and brown eyes that
reminded Willow of Xander’s, so dark you could lose yourself in them.

"Hallo, Doyle."

"No." He shook his head, his eyes widening.

"And you must be Willow." The woman walked over and sat on the edge of
the coffee table in front of the couch. "I’m Meredith. Meredith
Alexander."

"Mere…"

"Although, by all rights, I should be Meredith Doyle." She grinned in
Doyle’s direction as two demons walked up behind him, holding his
shoulders to keep him sitting on the couch. "But someone broke a
promise to me. And a promise made is a debt unpaid, isn’t it Francis?"

"Mere…"

"But Francis doesn’t like to pay his debts." She turned her eyes to
Willow. "So he gets someone else to do it for him."

"I…I don’t…" Willow looked around, noticing the gathering of women
surrounding the couch. "I don’t understand."

"The reason you couldn’t read the summoning stone is because the message
wasn’t meant for you at all. It was meant for him."

Willow looked at Doyle. "Doyle?"

Her soft, curious voice was like a knife running through him. "The
debt…" He looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes as everything
became clear. "The debt is mine."

"I don’t…"

Meredith smiled. "Don’t worry. We’ll explain it all before we take
anything you might miss." Two of the women grabbed Willow and forced
her to her feet. "She’s powerful, Francis. You did good."

"Meredith…"

"I was worried for a bit that it was going to be the beauty queen
upstairs." She laughed softly, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his
lips. "I should have known better. You were always partial to
redheads."

**

"You what?!!"

Doyle flinched at Angel’s question, both from the content and the
volume. "I sort of let the coven take her."

Cordelia placed a restraining hand on Angel’s arm. "I’m sure he
couldn’t have stopped all of them, Angel."

The vampire started to relent until he looked at Doyle’s face.
"Doyle?" He lowered his voice to a soft, dangerous level. "What aren’t
you telling us?"

Hunkering down further into his chair, Doyle refused to look at either
of his co-workers. "Well, you know how I mentioned that I knew all
about blood debts?"

"Because you’d paid one before?" Cordelia’s question was laced with
suspicion.

"I was supposed to marry this girl. At least, she thought I meant to
marry her…" Casting a quick look at their angry faces, he continued,
"Mostly because I told her that I was going to…"

"And…" Angel drew the word out as though he was offering Doyle enough
rope to hang himself.

"That was the promise I made. The promise I broke. The debt I owed.
The reason I don’t get all too drunk around the ladies no more." He
flinched at their growing annoyance. "I figured, sittin’ there on the
damn altar, ‘bout ready to have my heart and liver cut out by the woman
who, just the night before, had been swearin’ her undyin’ love, that it
would be an easy promise to make and an even easier one to keep."

"What. Promise. Doyle?"

He’d never heard Angel use such a harsh, clipped tone. "I swore that I
would sacrifice the next woman…to them."

Cordelia shook her head. "As resistible as I find your charms, even I
find it hard to believe you haven’t been with a woman in all this time."

Doyle blushed. "Not the next woman." He looked away from them both,
staring down at his hands.

"Oh." Angel’s eyes widened.

"Oh what?" Cordelia looked at Angel then Doyle, then back again. "Oh
what?"

"Not just the next woman, Cordelia." Angel tried to explain until Doyle
cut him off.

"The next woman I loved."

Cordelia took a step back and leaned against the desk. "Oh."

**

"All right." Angel finally broke the silence that had filled the room.
"We have a few hours. I’m going to do a little investigating,
specifically around this club. Doyle, see if you can get anything from
the summoning stone. Cordelia, call Giles…wait. Don’t. They’ll want
to talk to Willow. Email Giles, see if he knows anything about this
group."

"Okay," Cordelia nodded as Angel headed for the sewers. As soon as he
was gone, she turned to Doyle. "Okay. Dish."

"What?"

"Tell me."

"Right." Incredulity shone from his blue eyes. "I’m supposed to trust
Miss Tactless and unburden myself to the most unsympathetic person on
the planet?"

"Do you really love her?"

Doyle sighed. "I barely know ‘er."

"That’s not an answer."

"Yeah. It is. I haven’t had time to love her yet." He sat silent for
a moment, staring down at the necklace in his hands. "Could I? Yeah."
He shrugged and met Cordelia’s eyes. "She reminds me of Harriet. All
accepting and loving, curious and vulnerable, strong and vibrant…" He
broke off at her look. "What?"

"You love her."

"I do not."

"And yet you brought her here."

"Was there a particular reason you thought I needed to be reminded of
that?"

She shrugged. "I’m just having trouble with that part of it."

"Well, the visions aren’t exactly the clearest of things. I didn’t
actually know it had anything to do with me when I went after her." He
picked up the summoning stone from where it lay and stared into it. "I
never thought Meredith would…"

"That’s the other part I have trouble with. I mean, I buy the whole
wife thing. I mean, Harriet was nice and seemed easily deceived by your
so-called charms. But this Meredith woman? I mean, two nice looking,
fairly smart women and they’ve *both* fallen for you?" Her look of
incredulity earned her a sharp look from Doyle. "And now Willow? I
mean, come on. This is getting out of hand here."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence, Princess." He turned his attention
back to the stone. "It’s got to be here. It’s how it’s done."

"What?"

"Go email Giles. See if he knows anything, like Angel asked. I’ll be
downstairs."

"But…"

"Cordelia? Please?"

She nodded, heading for the outer office and the computer. Doyle
pocketed the stone and headed for the elevator and the scene of the
crime.

**

Willow moaned as the bonds that held her tightened even more. "It
always amuses me when humans get involved with demons," Meredith had
been talking non-stop since they’d reached…wherever they were. "I mean,
with all the gorgeous men out there, why go for one that’s got spines or
no soul or flaming fingers? Why not find a nice normal guy and settle
down?"

"The normal ones aren’t always as normal as you think," Willow said
softly.

Meredith’s eyes focused on her and she smiled. "True. You’d know, I
suppose, living on the mouth of Hell." She sat down across from her
captive and tilted her head. "You know what the most delicious part of
this is? Doyle is sitting there, right now, probably drinking himself
into oblivion, sure that this whole thing is his fault."

"Isn’t it? I mean, isn’t that what you said?"

She grinned widely – a little too widely for Willow’s taste and shook
her head. "Nope. That’s just icing on the cake. We let him think that
you’re paying off his debt so that when the next woman he loves does
come along, he’ll still owe, only he won’t be aware of it."

"So why…?"

"The Slayer." The words came out in a vengeful hiss and for a moment,
Willow got a look at Meredith’s true face. Seeing her shivering, the
older woman smiled. "She’s going to regret ever knowing you, little
witch. You’re going to be the death of her. In more ways than one."

**

Doyle stared at the stone, trying to will it to tell him what he needed
to know. He was actually wishing for another vision, simply to tell him
how to save her, how to fix things. Looking over at the bar that Angel
was nice enough to keep stocked for him, he realized that he hadn’t had
anything other than a vision-induced drink since he’d met Willow.

"Damn," he sighed. "I do love her." Picking up the necklace, he headed
back up the stairs to see if Cordelia had found anything. He walked
into the main office, watching her as she printed up the response she’d
evidently gotten from Giles. "Anything?"

"A few things. Giles said that the last he’d heard the coven had been
dissolved. This might be an offshoot branch run by your little
ex-girlfriend. He said," Cordelia looked down at the sheet of paper in
her hand and started reading. "The host party was destroyed when
Cluactrious…I think…was summoned forth, rendering them all powerless
and…" she swallowed hard. "And I don’t think I like this guy at all."

Doyle took the paper from her and read it silently, his face paling.
"Christ. That’s not Meredith that’s got her, Cordelia. It’s
Cluactrious. And it’s not Willow he wants; it’s her power. Aw hell.
Email Giles back and let him know everything – and I mean everything
that’s goin’ on. We might need their help. Try and get in touch with
the boss man. Tell him to meet me at…" Silence filled the room as he
realized that, for all his desire to end this, to save her, to…to be the
kind of man who deserved to love her, he had no idea whatsoever as to
where she was being held. "Hell."

"We have to save her, Doyle. I mean, I’ll admit we aren’t the best of
friends, but I don’t think she deserves to die like…" she gestured to
the paper and Giles’ typed description of what had happened to the women
of the coven. "Like that."

He paced the room, twirling the necklace around his finger. After a few
moments, unable to come up with a plan, he cursed loudly and slammed the
stone against the wall. It shattered into tiny pieces, all of them
scattering across the floor of the office. Doyle cursed again, stopped
only by Cordelia’s sharp intake of breath. "What?"

She pointed to the wall where the necklace had hit. Blood ran down the
clean white surface, forming words as it flowed south. "What…what does
it say?"

"Doyle." He smirked. "2 AM. Our place."

"Our place?"

"Call Giles. Find Angel. Meet me at my apartment in a half-hour.
We’ve still got some time. And I need to find something."

**

Angel winced as Cordelia slammed on the brakes outside Doyle’s apartment
building. The half-demon stepped out of the shadows and slid into the
car. "All right. We need to go to Macmillan Park."

"Why?"

Doyle glanced into the back seat at Angel, nodding when he saw that he
was in full battle gear. "That’s where she is. When Mere and I were
dating…we used to end up in the park. We’d spend all our time there, me
drunk off me ass and her hangin’ on, tryin’ to keep me on my feet. We
laughed a lot. That’s where I asked her if she’d marry me someday. I
didn’t expect her to think it was goin’ to be so soon…"

"Where in the park?" Angel looked out the window as the trees seemed to
fly past. "I don’t like walking in blind."

"She’ll have her by the fountain. There’s a series of sculptures there;
one of which would serve as an altar. Willow’s going to be sacrificed
and the demon, and Meredith, if she’s still in there at all, is going to
absorb her powers, enhancing their own. Then Cluactrious will be able
to take the shape of Willow and use her face to fool whoever she wants."

"To fool Buffy." Angel whispered the words, but they seemed to fill the
car nonetheless.

"Yeah. I get the feeling they’re goin’ after your girl."

Angel nodded. "What do we have to use against her?"

"Whatever you brought. I had Cordy ask Giles what we needed to kill the
demon."

"Salt, terragrum root, willow bark and a big sharp pointy sword." She
managed a grim smile. "The sword actually comes first, but it didn’t
have the same dramatic effect the other way."

"So we stab it?"

"Nope. Giles said you have to slice off its head, separate it from the
body and then cover the exposed cut with the mixture of the other stuff
to keep it from reattaching." She grimaced and shivered. "He’s going
to detach from Meredith’s body most likely. Giles said that you’re
going to have to be prepared for that. He said it’s not even close to
pretty."

Angel grinned quickly. "Giles said *that*?"

"Well, he didn’t quite use those words, but at least my sentence made
some sort of sense, which is more than I can say for him." She sniffed
and pulled the car into a parking space on the edge of the park. "So,
what’s the plan?"

"Angel and I go in after Willow. You stay here and mix the herbs
together. In about fifteen minutes, come out to the statues." He
pointed to a gathering of rocks not too far from them. "Be careful,
Princess." He turned and looked at her and, for a moment, Cordelia
could finally see what all that damned Irish charm was all about. "I
don’t want to lose you either."

"You guys be careful. The acting world doesn’t quite seem to be ready
for my vast talent, so I actually need this job." She looked at both of
them, her fear firmly etched in her eyes. "Don’t let him hurt her?"

"We won’t," Doyle assured her, climbing from the car, carrying the bag
he’d brought with him. "Angel? You got the sword?"

"Right here." He stayed back a bit, knowing that Doyle needed to do
this, needed to prove to himself, and perhaps Willow, that he could.
That he was still the kind of man a woman like Harriet – a woman like
Willow – could fall in love with.

Doyle opened the bag he was carrying and set it on the ground. He
pulled both a short and long sword from it and hefted them both. "I
loved Harriet with everything I had in me," Doyle whispered, knowing
somehow that Angel was listening. "But when everything happened, I got
scared and I lost the most important thing in my life. I never thought
that anyone would ever love me again. When Mere came around, I thought
that was it, until I found out that she wanted something more – not just
marriage, she wanted me to embrace my demon side and use it to our
advantage. I couldn’t do that. Not just because I had trouble with the
demon half of me, but because I knew that wasn’t what being a demon was
all about."

Angel didn’t say anything, simply watched as Doyle stared down at the
swords, hiding his eyes from the glow of moonlight and a vampire’s too
keen gaze.

"I thought she was me last chance. I thought, when the beauty queen
back there thought I was a waste of ‘er time, that I was doomed to be
alone. But that…But Willow seems to see something in me that she likes
and I’ll be damned, more so than I already am, if I let her go."

"So why are we standing here talking?"

Doyle looked up, his demon in full effect. "Because if I die doing
this, I want you to make sure she knows all that."

"I’ll keep that in mind."

He grinned and gestured to the statues. "Shall we help the hopeless?"

"I prefer rescuing the damsel in distress."

"Semantics, my friend," Doyle whispered as they neared the area, his
nose quivering as he searched for her scent. "Mere semantics."

They both stopped short as one of the statues moved. Turning slowly,
the large gray creature smiled down at both of them. "Hello Doyle."
The demon’s true countenance was hidden, Meredith’s face covering it
like a mask, the skin frayed and curling along the edges. "You don’t
look happy to see me. I don’t suppose you’d still be willing to give me
a kiss."

"Where’s Willow?" Doyle asked harshly.

"You’re too late."

"You said 2."

"That was for the victory. Not for the sacrifice. She’s so powerful,
Doyle. You should drink from her and join me, just as Meredith did."

Doyle looked over at Angel. The vampire shook his head, his eyes
glowing golden in the pale moonlight. "Where is she?"

"Dead." The demon reached out and lifted Doyle off the ground, his hand
at his throat. "Just as you’re going to be. You and your little band
of heroes."

"Not heroes," Doyle gasped, shoving the longer of his swords into the
demon’s stomach. It groaned and loosened its grip, allowing Doyle to
swing the shorter sword and sever its hand. He fell away, rolling as he
landed, putting distance between them. "Just doing a job."

"Right. You were always too much of a joke to be a hero." Meredith’s
voice taunted him. "And too much of a bastard to be much of a joke.
How did you always manage to fool the pretty ones, Doyle?" She grabbed
the severed arm and held it to the stump, growling as it reattached
itself. "Did you get to taste her? Did you get your fill of the little
witch?" A bolt of electricity seemed to course through the air, hitting
Doyle solidly in the chest. He fell back, struggling to hold on to both
swords as he stumbled to his feet.
"How does her power feel?"

"She’s not dead."

"She is, Doyle. I killed her. And I made sure she knew that you were
the one to blame." Meredith’s face fell away from the demon’s gray skin
and Doyle sighed in relief. It would be easier to kill something he’d
never woken up to. "And I want you to know that she’ll be the one to
kill you all." The demon turned and shot another bolt of energy past
Doyle, sending it spiraling toward Cordelia who was running quickly up
the path.

Just before it hit her, Angel’s body impacted with hers and they both
went tumbling to the ground. Doyle heaved a sigh of relief. "You’re
just a two-bit demon, just as Meredith was a two-bit witch. No wonder
you need Willow."

"I have Willow."

Doyle shook his head, looking past the demon into the empty night.
"Doesn’t look like it to me."

The demon turned as Doyle swung the sword, severing its head and sending
it flying toward his co-workers. With the shorter sword, he pierced the
creature’s heart as Angel and Cordelia hurried to anoint the pulpy
remains.

Leaving them to it, Doyle hurried around the remaining statues,
searching for what his senses assured him was there. The moon shone
down on the flat stone table where Willow lay, tied down with makeshift
ropes. Moving to her side, he smiled down at her. "The lengths you’ll
go to just to get out of dancin’ with Cordelia."

Her eyes shone with tears and relief. "I knew you’d come."

"Well, of course. You and I have a date."

"We do?"

"Well, you and Cordelia have a date, but I thought, given the new
circumstances, you might let her have fun with a few of the guys at the
club."

"If she’s having fun with a few of the guys what am I supposed to do?"
She watched him as he unfastened the ropes with trembling hands then
helped her sit up. Her wrists and ankles had red marks on them from
where she’d struggled against her bonds but other than that she looked
fine.

"I was thinkin’ you might be willing to spend your time with just one
man."

"I’m sorry. Angel belongs to Buffy. Nothing is going to change my mind
on that one." She grinned up at him, her green eyes dancing in the soft
glow of the moon.

"Then I guess it’s just you and me."

"Does that mean I’m going to get my kiss?’

"If you’re lucky." He helped her down and wrapped his arm around her,
guiding her back to the car. "And if you’re good."

"If good requires not laughing at you while you dance…"

He kissed the top of her head as they walked, holding her even tighter.
"Red?"

Willow stopped and looked up at him. "Yes, Francis?"

He shook his head, lowering it until his lips brushed across hers.
Willow wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Breaking
apart a few breathless moments later, he touched her lower lip and
smiled. "Would it be forward of me to say that I think I’m fallin’ in
love with ya?"

"Would it make a difference if it was?"

"I’ve been pretty forward this entire trip."

She grinned back at him, standing on tiptoe to give him another soft
kiss. "Then why stop now?"

The End...