Title: Oracle

By: LadyDarkStar

Classification: Willow/Doyle

Rating: PG-16 to R

E-mail: Ldydarkstr@hotmail.com -Don’t Make Me Beg!

Disclaimer: I no own. *sigh* But I refuse to doubt the possibility that one day I could own...so I continue to write!!!

Author’s note: Everything has happened in Angel, except for Doyles death. And Wesley is still a watcher somewhere else.And uh, Gunn...doesn’t exist. So, its all merriment. Okay?

Dedication: To Charity, cause she Loves Doyle so!!! See I made him all alive again! Just like I promised!

Doyle slammed back another glass of whiskey. Angel looked at him, raising his own glass to his lips. They regarded each other and turned back to their drinks.

"Its so nice to know that this is how you guys spend you leisure time."

Cordelia huffed, sitting down next to Doyle.

" I do read." Angel argued. Doyle grinned.

"Why read when you could enjoy this wonderful ambiance?" he gestured.

Cordelia looked around the dark, dank bar, where half the patrons were passed out, and one person was relieving himself in the corner.

"Absolutely lovely."she muttered. Doyle grinned again and ordered another drink.

In Sunnydale, a young witch began casting her circle. Things on the hell mouth had been somewhat slow as of late, and the Slayer felt something coming but nothing could be pinpointed. Willow had taken it upon herself to do some supernatural searching. Taking a deep breath she offered the final token to her chalice.

"Protectorate, goddess, give me yield..." She whispered, the entreaty flowed from her lips, the spell’s energy streaming from her, surrounding the circle. Just a peer into the future that was all she wanted. Something that would give her direction, something to help her best friend. Then, the world went shock white.

"You ask questions that you should not know the answers to." A mirthful voice whispered.

"What?" Willow gasped. She was struggling to hold the moment.

"You wish to help your friends?" The voice took shape, a Grecian looking woman, streaked with blue and gold.

"Yes." Willow breathed. The woman smiled.

"Your path twists here server of the Goddess. The Powers that Be intervene on behalf of your pure soul. You wish to help,then you shall. But the hell mouth does not need you." She crossed around the circle, peering amusingly at Willow’s bedroom.

"But then where?" The woman closed her eyes.

"I am an Oracle." The woman opened her shockingly blue eyes. "There are always two, as there are always three sister witches. Our strength is in our teamwork, and only together can we be strong. Brother and sister we were borne Oracles, one of the strongest bond we could have, except that of lovers. It takes two, as you shall discover soon enough."The Oracle pierced Willow with her eyes, holding up her hand, enveloping her in light. Willow gasped for air.

"Your time in my plane has expired. We shall meet...." The whiteness faded, and Willow fell into darkness.

Doyle sat up, cold from a dream that he couldn’t explain. An Oracle. Only one. The man spoke to him, explained something that Doyle didn’t quite understand. "Fuck." He picked up the phone. "Angel, mate, yeah I know, sorry, but, we have a problem."

Angel took another deep swallow of coffee. " The Oracles are dead Doyle."

"She appeared to you after she had been killed, didn’t she?"

Angel nodded. "Yeah, she did."

Doyle shrugged his jacket off. "So its safe to say that the Oracles still exist, just not here."

Angel scowled. "What exactly did he say?" The vampire growled.

Doyle flicked his eyes about the hotel. "He told me that I wouldn’t be alone. That the Powers that Be have decided another step must be taken in my, and your salvation."

Angel stood up abruptly, glaring at the half Bracken demon. "Explain."

"I don’t know Angel. He said something, strange." Doyle paced around the couch. "What???" Angel insisted.

"There has always been two. Strong as partners, stronger as relation, strongest as lovers." Angel pondered that for a moment.

"Someone is coming?" He asked. "Suppose so mate." Angel took another sip from his mug.

"Why can’t quiet times stay longer?" He asked. "Because this is salvation." Doyle replied.

Willow gasped awake. Her head was reeling as if from a bad hang over, and she felt like every nerve ending was standing at attention. The Oracle’s words still echoed in her head. *What did she zap me with?* Willow wondered. She stumbled into the bathroom, fumbling for aspirin. Looking up into her mirror, her world shuddered as visions entered her mind. "Ahhhh." She screamed, falling onto the tile floor, cradling her head. Images flew through her head, emotions not her own. Confusion. Anger. Angel. Someone Willow didn’t recognize. Like a twist of a knob, the vision stopped. Willow groaned, pulling herself up onto the counter. She poured four aspirin into her hand and swallowed them. She had to go to Los Angeles. That was all she knew. Her mind mulled over the waking nightmare that had just invaded her body. Visions. Was this what the Oracle had alluded to? And the man she didn’t recognize, she had felt...close to him. Willow shook her head. The pain had subsided to a dull ache, and she could see straight. Moving back into her bedroom, she picked up her phone.

"Giles, I hate to wake you...um..well...I’m going to LA for a little bit. Yeah, no, just have to um..." Willow searched for an excuse.

"Pick up a thing for my dad, and uh, probably meet them there. Yeah. Well thanks, call you when I get there. Yeah, bye." She hung up the phone, biting her lip.

*What am I doing?* She wondered, reaching for her suitcase. {What must be done.} A voice whispered in her mind. Willow shuddered with chills, and began packing.

 
Doyle straightened his jacket for the third time, nervously checking over
his shoulder. Angel spoke quietly with the blue faced demon at the bar. The
demon nodded vigorously. Angel sighed, and motioned for Doyle to take up the
demon's vacated seat.

"What does he say?" Doyle asked.

Angel looked him dead in the eye. "Oracles have been spotted on the third
plane. But not in a while. Other than that no one has heard or seen them."
He said quietly. Doyle opened his mouth to reply, his voice turning into an
anguished gasp. Millions of bright colors assaulted his brain, and he
clutched the bartop. Flashes of red hair. A woman. And a Vampire. She is
surpised, daunted, but calm. Tense, danger. Supreme danger. Need...Doyle
leaned back, gasping air. The colors faded, the ache in his head pounding
like pyscho natives on drums. Angel was pushing a drink into his hand. Doyle
darnk it quickly.

"What is it?" the vampire asked.

Doyle opened his eyes. "We have to go home. NOW. She, is here." He
staggeringly got off the stool, headed intently for the door.

Willow looked up at the large hotel. It was beautifully lit and inviting,
not exactly the abode for a tortured souled vampire. Or his entourage of
demon hunters. But, whatever the public liked, right? She clutched her
suitcase tightly, and adjusted her messenger bag, heading up to the
entrance. She felt a presense like a dark shadow encroaching upon her.

" 'Scuse me?" a man, late twenties offered her a smile.

"Yes?" Willow asked.

"I don't think they let rooms." Again, a smile.

"I know the owner,thank you." She turned again b ack to the building.

" I don't think you're going to know him much longer." Same smile, more
forced.

Willow felt into her pocket, assured that her pepper spray, cross, and stake
were in her cargo khakis. "Oh?" She asked.

The man's face shifted to that of a demons. The vampire grinned happily. "I
think you're going to satiate my craving."

Willow rolled her eyes. "You must be new. Otherwise, you'd have learnt by
now, that most vamps don't really do the whole,
I'm-going-to-chat-you-up-and-then-eat-you, thing. Many, just go for it."
She mentioned crankily.

The vampire growled, and lunged for her. Willow squealed and used her bag as
a buffer before dropping it.

"Sure I mean, don't ask me I've just lived on a hellmouth my entire
existence, but believe me, toothy grins just shout, 'I haven't quite got the
hang of this I-am-creature-of-night-thing.' " She babbled, her heart beating
wildly. The vampire lunged again, and she had her stake ready. The vampire
looked at her in shock as he disentegrated.

"Willow!" She turned at the familiar voice of Angel running at full speed
twords her.

"Hi!" She waved, picking up her suitcase.The vampire reached her, and looked
at the dustpile at her feet.

"Hi." He mumbled. Was this the SHE that Doyle had said as they left the
demon bar?

"Um, well, um...I seem to um.." Willow didn't know where to start explaining
why she was there.

"Whats going on?" Angel asked directly.

"I'll tell you, mate. Legs will be chopped..whole running ahead of the poor
half dem...."Doyle huffed as he ran up...his mouth gaping open when he
recognized Willow.

"You!" They both shouted.

"What?" A confused Angel replied.

"You were in my vision!" Willow grinned.

"You were in mine!" Doyle replied.

"Oracle?"The redhead asked.

"Yup." The bracken demon replied.

They grinned smugly at each other. Angel cleared his throat.

"Well this is all good and great, but care to tell ME?" He interjected.

Willow smiled. "Sure Angel, wanna begin at the head exploding visions or the
Oracles messing with lives?" She prodded the vampire.

Angel rolled his eyes heavenward. "Thank you." he muttered sarcasticly.



Willow's adreniline level had dropped significantly ever since she dusted
the vampire outside, and now she just felt, uncomfortable. Could be the 'we
need to talk right now' look on Angel's face, or the fact that whenever
Doyle passed her, or even looked at her her senses buzzed.

"Let me get this straight." Angel murmured, setting down his mug. "You both
were contacted by the Oracles in visions. Willow had the female one, Doyle
the male. Correct?"

Willow absently thought that he needed a little notebook to be jotting
notes. The mental image of Angel in a cop outfit, taking notes like a rookie
sent her into giggles.

"Did I miss something?" Doyle asked, leaning over.

His body was electrified the nearer he was next to the redhead. His fingers
strayed to her bare shoulder, wondering what her skin would do to him.
Lightly, he stroked her shoulder, noting its soft texture. Images, sounds,
beamed into his head. Angel in a police officers uniform, munching a donut.
Willow's laughter as she circled her own mental image. Doyle raised his hand
quickly. Willow turned sharply around, staring at him with wide eyes.

"What did you just do?" She asked, breathless.

Lost in her own thoughts she hadn't noticed Doyle touching her. Then,
sights, sounds invaded her brain. Doyle's thoughts. She blushed. They were
wonderings about her. About her skin.About....

"I didn't mean..." Doyle almost back peddled.

"What was that?" Willow stood.

"Red...I'd like ta apologize." He began, Willow waved her hand passively.

"Don't care Doyle. What did you do?" She demanded.

"I touched your shoulder." he murmured.

Willow looked down at her bare shoulder. A simple touch and they had peered
into each others mind. It was boggling. She looked to Angel, who for once,
looked uncomposed and lost.

"We're not going to get answers from each other." She pointed out.

"Apparently there is something brewing. You've been brought here Will, and
something is going on between you and Doyle. You have to find out what."
Angel said simply.

"How do we go about that?" The half demon asked.

The witch bit her lip slightly. She had thought of a way, but Angel wouldn't
be too happy. At least not with the fact that she could do it.

"I can do it." She whispered.

"How?" The two men asked.

"When I first met the Oracle I was in a spell trance. I was looking for a
glimpse to the future. We can perform a summoning. I can summon one or both
Oracles."

"Magic? No. You can't do that." Angel shook his head.

Willow felt her temper rise. "You didn't complain when I restored your soul
Angel. You've been out of Sunnydale for awhile. I can conjure flame. I can
make things lite up. I can float pencils!" She jutted out her chin
triumphantly. The vampire remained quiet.

"Have Doyle do it with you." He suggested.

Willow looked at the irishman somewhat skeptically. "Do you have any magick
training? How did you come in contact with the Oracles in the first place?"
She questioned.

Doyle grinned. "Well, lass. That seems ta be a funny story. Me mum, was a
Bracken demon. Me dad, human. So, I'm a half of a demon. Or human,
depending on your point of view. Which, isn't too funny, if ya think about
it." He grinned, mock evilly. "Course, I've helped Angel here, with a little
mojo now and again. I think I can handle a summoning." He scratched his head
somewhat comically. "Though, ya might wanta add the fact that I'm a direct
uplink to the Powers that Be. I experience visions of the near future, so
Angel can prove himself worthy of redemption." His eyes twinkled.

Wilow tried not to let her jaw drop she really did. "Erhm. So what did you
do that was so horrible to be Angel's assistant?" She meant in comically,
really she did.

Doyles eyes darkened. His thoughts strayed briefly to the demons that were
half breeds like him. He didn't help them, they were slaughtered by 'pure'
demons. "Angel has his sins, I'm no different Red." He whispered.

Willow paused. "I'm going to need supplies." She asked Angel.

He nodded. "I know where to get them, get me a list of what you need."

The witch nodded, staring at Doyle. She wanted to understand, she wanted to
get involved in what was going on here, and now. Willow reached for Doyle's
hand. He shied away from her, shaking his head vehemetly.

"If we really are sharing thoughts gorgeous, ya'll be understandin' that I
do not wish ta share mine." He adjusted his jacket, and walked up the
stairs.