Title: Be Still My Heart Author: Becky Sonnenfeld Email: doyleworshipper@yahoo.com Part Two __________ Allen Francis Doyle approached Cordelia Chase with some caution, still unsure of how he should carry himself when he was around her. Half the time, he often expected her to blow up at him, verbally bashing him for one thing or another. But so far, that didn't appear to be the case. And he was more than willing to accept that. He obviously couldn't hide the fact that he still cared deeply for her. And seeing this Wesley guy now working for Angel...jealousy had taken root. And he also couldn't hide the sudden anger that had begun to build, having been convinced that Wesley might even go as far as to try and take away his role in fighting all things evil as well. Which would unfortunately leave Doyle behind to act as the unnoticed, ignored part of the group. "You changed your clothes." The statement quickly shattered his intent way of thinking, as Cordy suddenly became aware of his presence. "Yeah," he nodded. "They're Angel's." "You look good," she observed. "I mean, not that you never do.... It's just...them being a tad big on you and all...." He smiled at her attempt at a full fledged compliment. "You busy?" "Well. Angel expects me to go through about a dozen or so books, looking for periods of history closest to the date in which he believes this monster dude will make a public appearance." She closed the book she held within her grasp, and took a breath. "Not fun." He sat down next to her on the couch then. She immediately shifted a little bit more to her left, allowing more space between the two of them. Something about his sitting here with her almost appeared vaguely familiar. But he just shrugged it off. "Cordy?" She turned to face him, offering him another glance. "Yes?" "This Wesley guy....who works for Angel....what's his story exactly?" She sighed. "Not much to tell. I think he just about explained everything earlier. The rogue demon hunter thing is the part I still don't get though. He just doesn't seem like that kind of guy....you know?" "He seems a little on the stuffy side, yeah?" came Doyle's reply. "Much. Don't let him bother you. I think he's still repressing because of the council and all of that." "How....how long has he been workin' here?" "Not long. But the last time I saw him....back in Sunnydale....he said he was headed back to England. And I thought it was for good." "Hmph." "What?" she inquired, especially curious about his reaction more than anything else. "Oh. Nothin'. I just....he...just strikes me as odd. But it's probably only me, right?" "Well. There is the whole annoyance thing he's got going. Which I'm sure you've already found out." "Yeah." He quietly laughed at that. "Do you....want to....maybe, um, go for some coffee tonight....or something?" She cast her eyes downward. "I...I mean...if...if you're not doing...anything? If there's no evil to fight?" He gave her a half smile, somewhat pondering it. Not that it really needed much thought to begin with. "Sure, Princess. I'd...love to." "Great." She secretly breathed a sigh of relief. "How about around ten? Is that okay for you?" "Uh... Well I-" "Cordelia. There you are." A third voice interrupted then, as Wesley stood there in front of the two of them, hands on his hips, his expression rather stern. "I've been looking everywhere for you." "Are you like her father or somethin'?" Doyle questioned him, indicating Wesley's tone. "Because she's over eighteen now, man." He then looked at Cordy, his eyebrows raised in part confusion. "Right?" "Right," Cordy answered, shooting Doyle a 'let me handle this' glare. "What can I help you with, Wesley?" "Angel just wanted to know how the search is going. I told him I would check up on you, and then report back to him." He lowered his voice somewhat, and threw on one of the hugest grins. "I think I may have found something significant," he gushed brightly. "Should we really be whispering about that sort of realization?" Doyle asked, clearly at a loss. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought discovering stuff was a good thing." "So share," Cordy told him, ignoring Doyle's comment. "Well. I think I've located the whereabouts of this creature-" "Wait. Whoa. Hold on a minute. How do we even know what it is," Cordy started. "I mean, really. It could be anything-" Doyle began to shake uncontrollably then, placing his hands to his head. Inside of him, images took root, encompassing his overall frame of mind. He was in horrible pain once again. He'd now re-acquired this particular ability for a second time in his life, whether he had wanted to or not. He saw a few people fleeing from a fairly large something or other, as it pursued them with an evil like none he'd ever seen or encountered before. Well....there had been the Scourge, which had ultimately destroyed him. But this...... He waited....expecting to at least gain a brief glimpse, even a single feature, but nothing more jumped out at him. He groaned then, and felt the pressure diminishing somewhat. Out of pure and utter exhaustion, he collapsed onto the floor, still holding his head in his hands. Cordy rushed over to him, already fearing the worst. "They're back, aren't they?" She paused a moment. "What did you see?" "Yes. Do tell us what you saw," Wesley added, kneeling down beside Cordy. Doyle opened his eyes, allowing his surroundings to come into focus. "Paper...pen..." he managed quietly. "Oh. Sure. Right away." Wesley nodded, lifting himself up, and going over to a nearby desk. He returned immediately with the required utensils. "Here you are." Doyle began to write rapidly, as he knew of the precise location as well as building numbers, that Wesley had probably been about to describe from his own notes and conclusions. But there was still one more thing Doyle also didn't know of quite yet. He finished, winced briefly, and handed the paper over to Wesley. "If you'll excuse me now, man. I feel one of those migraines coming on." Doyle picked himself up slowly, holding onto Cordy to steady himself. "Are you sure you're okay enough to walk?" she questioned, concerned at best. "I'll be just fine after I take some aspirin, yeah?" She let go of him, and let him direct himself to the room where they kept all of what he'd need. She knew so well how he must feel. Afterall, she'd shared that same power not all that long ago. And at the moment, she felt incredibly bad for even having wished it on him like she had earlier. What was wrong with her? Wesley examined Doyle's written observations, clearly amazed by the entire process. This vision, unlike the few that Cordy had had, almost seemed to be the most abundant of all of them....at least to him. He glanced at Cordy though, his eyes growing rather weary. "No monster, I'm afraid. Just a place for investigation purposes. Disappointing...in a way." "How can you say that?" she asked him, anger building within her. "How can he say what?" Angel asked, as he emerged to hear more of their conversation. "Doyle had a vision," Cordy told him. "And?" "Well. He didn't see the evil part all that good, and just wrote down the surroundings and stuff." "So? We'll track it down there...at the location. Isn't that how it always goes? I mean, what's the problem? I'm not sure I get it." "There's no problem. It's just that Wesley here is whining about the whole thing." "I was not whining," Wesley protested immediately. "I was simply stating that we can't fight the evil-" "Fight? Um, Wesley? You don't fight," Cordy volunteered. "Excuse me-" Wesley began. "Look. Settle down, alright? Now. I'm going to go get Doyle, and we're going to find this thing. And then we're going to kill it. It really shouldn't be all that hard." Angel studied Wesley, a sarcastic appearance, although a bit shaded, taking over his face. "She's right. You do kind of shy away from the fighting, Wesley." He then walked away, laughter threatening to cloud his system. Wesley could feel himself growing crimson out of yet another defeat, and just remained speechless, his overall expression unreadable.