Title: Be Still My Heart Author: Becky Sonnenfeld Email: doyleworshipper@yahoo.com Part One ____________ Rain cascaded down the side of the large building, allowing its pattern to sound very much like that of a thousand drummers, waiting, preparing for their encore presentation, letting their calm music flow ever so freely. Occasionally, a clasp of thunder could be heard in the distance, putting in its two cents as well. The outside world certainly wasn't agreeing to anyones terms on a day like this. In fact, Cordy Chase pondered, only a recluse would benefit from something on this particular order. They'd just be sitting all warm and content in their little miniscule establishments, while others rose to fight the forces of darkness. Then again, anyone who wasn't Angel, Wesley, or Doyle, most likely had a job that was in every way normal. Hmph. Those people would probably laugh horribly if I were even to make mention of the word demon, she thought to herself. She lifted herself up from her less than cluttered desk, and made her way over to the nearest window. "Great," she muttered silently to herself. "There goes countless hours of makeup and hairspray. Argh. Why do I even bother? Oh...I forgot. Because I care, that's why. Because ever since I willingly chose to hang with the Slayer's little group, I've suddenly experienced the need to have feelings." A distinct shape on the move nearby, caused her to stare further out the window at that moment, trying hard to make out who it was. Someone somewhat short in stature...and really badly dressed. They were headed toward Angel Investigations, going as fast as their feet would carry them. And without an umbrella too, she also noticed. They'd be more than drenched by the time they'd even reached the front door. But nevertheless, she offered a smile. And not even a sarcastic one at that. More like a mockingly friendly one at best, if that kind even really existed. It was his first day back to fight all that was considered evil. And the stength he had accumulated, certainly derserved some credit as well, whether he decided to recognize that or not. As usual though, he had gotten all modest, claiming that saving an entire race of demons from mass destruction had truly been nothing. And naturally, wasn't all that eager to get back into the helpsome mode of defending those in need all that quickly. But it was obvious that he had soon realized just how much they required his assistance in such drastic matters. Wesley could be informative, no question about that. He just lacked majorly in the fighting department. Aside from the fact that his wardrobe also classified him as a great big nerd. Cordy heard the door being pulled back, and turned away from the mesmerizing look she'd held when she'd regarded the world around her. In a way, she amost felt a sort of shyness toward him now, as well as the usual guilt for previously saying a whole bunch of hurtful comments, that were totally unnecessary. She assumed these emotions would pass though, and all in good time. But they were still present now, and that's what irritated her more than anything else. "Angel, man? You here? Cordy?" Wesley Wyndham Bryce offered a brief glance from the chair where he was seated at, intently involved in that's day's newspaper. He wrinkled up his nose then, the way he did when he seemed just a tad bit on the annoyed side. "A client, I presume?" "No. I work here," Doyle told him matter of factly, trying not to let his tone get the better of him. "Is that so? Then...why don't I seem to recall seeing you here before?" Wesley questioned lightly. His eyes still focused on Doyle, he carefully reached behind him. Retrieving both a stake and a crucifix, he let the newspaper fall from his grasp. He then threw the crucifix, as well as the stake, in plain view for Doyle to see. "Be gone, vampire. We do not help nor aid in the adding of evil doings here. Be gone I say." Doyle took a step back. He nearly burst out laughing at Wesley's creature of the night comment, but managed amidst it all to contain himself. "I'm not a vampire," he tried. "Really, man. I work....'worked' for Angel, yeah? I understand your reasoning, but-" "Explain yourself quickly then." Wesley relented a bit, but did not lower the crucifix or stake. "I was-" Doyle began. "Wesley! Oh my god! What are you doing!?" Cordy entered the room then, her gaze of surprise immediately revealing sudden anger. "Stay back, Cordelia," Wesley ordered. "I have everything under control." "Under control? Excuse me. You're about to kill my friend over there. For which I may add, will not turn to dust if you do in fact decide to stake him." "He isn't a vampire?" "Big no! He's an Irish half demon. A good one too," she cleared up for him. "Who goes by the name of Doyle," she then added for good measure. "Doyle? The....the Allen Francis Doyle who died? And....and he's half demon?" Wesley still seemed confused. "I'm not sure I-" "Let's just call it a favor on behalf of our friends whom we refer to as the Oracles," Cordy told him, indicating the reason for Doyle's return. "We should have given them him instead," Doyle joked silently to himself. "Me instead of what?" Wesley asked him, somewhat worried. "Nothin'." Doyle couldn't help offering a brief smile in response. Cordelia glared rudely at Wesley. "Are you going to put that stuff down so I can introduce you? Or are you going to stand there like a big doofus?" she inquired. Wesley cast his eyes downward, obviously ashamed at his mistake. "So sorry." He gently threw the weapons onto a nearby desk, careful not to let them fall to the floor. "Doyle, this is Wesley. Wesley....Doyle." "Does he actually work here?" Doyle spoke up. "I beg your pardon?" Wesley objected. "Of course I work here. I help Angel and Cordelia out. We make a most excellent team, if I don't say so myself." "But not in the fightin' sense, yeah?" "I look up information. In books...and...and the like." Wesley tried to stand his ground. "Well I should hope that that's where the information lurks," Doyle returned, most likely amused. "So, what are you exactly then?" "Well...I used to work for the council, if that's what you mean," Wesley proclaimed, almost sounding incredibly proud of his accomplishment. "And in Sunnydale, California nonetheless. I acted as Watcher for both Buffy and Faith. Now...I'm a rogue demon hunter." "The council fired him," Cordy volunteered. "Yes. Do keep bringing that part up," Wesley replied sarcastically. "Doyle," a deep voice inquired. They all watched as Angel stepped out of the building's elevator, headed towards them, a rather grim expression possessing his overall tone. "Hey man. Judging by the-" Doyle started. "What he's trying to say, is that you look like you've seen the end of the world," Cordelia brightly filled in. "You've got pensive face." "I was goin' to say that," Doyle told her, suddenly feeling left out. "Yeah, and while you're at it, start having some visions too. Goodness knows I certainly down right had my share of them." "And you know I'm sorry for that, Princess. If I had known that that kiss-" "Kiss?" Wesley interrupted. "The two of you.....oh my." He seemed somewhat shocked at this sudden revelation, and quickly directed his gaze elsewhere. "Something's coming," Angel told them, cutting through Wesley's thoughts. "And it's something big. Doyle, have you had any visions?" "Not lately, man, no. But give it time. I gotta re-adjust back into this lifestyle again, yeah?" "Our lives could be in danger," Wesley added, stating a most obvious point, as he attempted to contemplate the matter further. "You think?" Cordy asked him. Doyle offered another smile at that. Leave it to Cordy to say what was really on her mind. "And look at you!" She eyed Doyle up then, as if finally noticing what had been a little out of place. "You're completely drenched! What is that going to do to the linoleum?!" "Cordy, I honestly don't see being drenched bein' nearly as bad as with what you tried to do to Angel's linoleum that one time-" "Let's all just settle down now, hmm?" Wesley finally put forth. "We obviously have a problem on our hands. And we're going to solve it calmly and collectively." "Is this guy for real?" came Doyle's reply, as he gestured a hand toward the former British Watcher. All glares were now directed to Wesley, who just shrugged, clearly embarrassed.