Title: Finding Solace (1/1) Rating: PG-13 for Language! Author: Torra Disclaimer: My name is Torra Kimbul. I am making this statment of my own free will...they're never gunna buy this...OW! But--! OW! I am making this statment of my own free will. The men from Wolf-OOOOOWWW! The men who have me demand that no one ever claims ownership of these charactors. I do not now, nor have I ever owned anyone used in this story. I am not making any money off of this. Joss is God...Oh no, I am *NOT* gunna say this! OW! OW! OW! OW! and OW! NO! PLEASE!! WOLFRAM & HART HAVE ME! JOSS SUCKS! SEND HELP! SEND DOYLE! SEND FEEDBACK! OW!!!!!! Summary: Doyle has been returend to Earth, alive once again...but when he sees the Kiss between Angel and Cordelia in "Parting Gifts", he just wishes he were dead again. Archiving: Anywhere! Just E-mail me and let me know it's going to a good home! Author's Notes: Sonya wrote a wonderful story called "Solace"...unfortinaly it was a Doyle/Buffy story. However, one scene cought my eye and so I started writing...this is what I came up with. This story is *compleatly* alternate univurse from Sonya's...this ending is VERY difrent and yes...it IS Doyle/Cordy! *HUGE* Thanks to Sonya for giving me the O.K. to do this! The first two Paragraphs are from "Solace", the rest is all mine. ____________________________________________________________________ "Finding Solace" By Torra lost_angels@buffymail.com ***** I wanted to turn away, but my feet seemed to be stuck to the floor. As I watched, the kiss continued for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few moments. Then they broke apart and Cordelia looked deeply into Angel’s eyes, as if she was searching for something dearly important to her. Angel himself looked surprised and shocked, but not unhappy. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I whirled around and ran down the hallway, feet pounding on the chipped tiles in the floor. I didn’t care if they heard me or not. I just had to get out of that building. ***** Doyle couldn’t believe that even with all the pain he was in from his re-birth, the braking of his heart was even more painful. His whole body seemed to shake with it, his whole being no longer stable. Blind with anger and pain, Doyle simply ran down the hall, trying to get as far away from what he as seen as he possibly could. Blinded by unshed tears he didn’t even know he was crying, he barreled into the doorway, hitting his shoulder hard against the closed metal slab. Doubling over for a moment he clutched his arm, holding it in place, then charged the door once again, this time his body angled against the blow so the door would open with him. The door, which seemed far heaver then Doyle could remember, swung open fiercely before slamming against the outside wall with a deafening metallic CLANG! As he stumbled into the street, some pain-addled part of his mind noted that the sun was still in the sky, shining as if nothing had happened. Acting as if his insignificant life had not just come to it's second, far more agonizing end. Doyle only made it half a block more before clasping against the far street wall, exhausted. His newly reformed body had not had time to recuperate, and every muscle in it seem to be working against him. "Doyle?" Turning a panicked eye behind him, he saw a sight which brought back all his pain anew: Cordelia and Angel in the far off doorway to Angel Investigations, staring at him in horror. Though they were only several hundred yards behind him, his whole world seemed to focus in on it, causing it to appear right beside him, and a thousand miles away at the same time. Doyle growled something even he couldn’t hear, and pushed off the wall once again, keeping his back to his former friends, trying to put as much distance between them and himself as he could. "DOYLE! Wait--ARGGG!" Though he could not see, he knew Angel had just tried to follow him, only to be stopped by the same deadly sun which, to him, had seemed to mock the ruins of his own life so cruelly just moments before. His body protesting his every step, Doyle tried to press on further down the block and towards the back alleyways. But Lady Luck, which had guided him in his first life for so long, finally chose to leave him as well, and Doyle could feel as well as hear Cordelia running to catch up with him. A pail, lithe hand gripped his arm, partially turning him, "Doyle…?" she breathed. Unable to resist, he turned his head to face her and for a brief eternity Doyle lost himself in her eyes; all the pain of his body, the nightmarish memories of his death, the bleak existence which his life had become faded, leaving only a deep seeded since of hope and warmth. But then the fresh memory of Angel looking into those same eyes after the kiss pushed into the front of his brain, shattering his all to short moment of peace. He pulled his eyes away, as he did with his arm, once again looking down the empty road before him, "Doyle's Dead." Cordelia, his beautiful, amazing, willful muse, didn’t take an answer like that without a fight. Getting a new, tighter grip on his leather clad arm, she spun him forcefully around. Doyle's week legs were unable to resist the pull, and he let himself be spun around. He didn’t even have time to look into Cordelia's eyes again before he felt her lips pressed hard against his. And once again, for a brief moment of time, he felt joy. The wonderful feel of Cordelia's skin against his own, her warmth chasing the chill out of his bones, the sent of her hair as it brushed against his face. And for a bare second, he allowed himself to respond to the kiss, caressing her mouth with his own. And then his reality came crashing down upon him once again and he pushed her away as hard as he could, "No!" he hissed, falling backwards, the brick building the only thing holding him up as he braced himself against it, "No, Doyle is Dead. And I don’t want your pity. Or Angel's. Start your life…mine ended on the Quintessa." He spat the words out as if they left a foul taste in his mouth before once again trying to turn away. He got as far as two steps before he once again felt Cordelia's hand on his arm, this time using all it's hidden strengths to jerk him around violently, an once again he felt her lips against his, this time her body wrapping around him. Doyle couldn’t help but to be enveloped in her, in the soft skin of her hands holding his head in place, of the electric bolts which seemed to pass between them, in the taste of her which filled his mouth with a wonderful presence. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, afraid to give her up again, he returned the kiss as passionately has he could. Finally, as all perfect moments must, it came to an end, each of them drawing away slowly, hesitant to let the moment pass. Doyle kept his eyes tightly closed, afraid of what he'd see when he opened them. Finally, he felt the gentle fingertips of Cordelia's brush against his eyelids. He tried to squeeze them tighter, but then she slapped him hard across the face, startling him enough to loose the battle with his own body. When his eyes opened, they were met with the fire of Cordelia's. "What the HELL are you talking about?!?" Doyle didn’t have strength of body or will to push away from her again, and sagging against the building, he let the wall support his entire weight, "You and Angel," his voice chocked on the name, "I saw…" finding a small store of panicked energy, he managed to brake the eye contact, looking anywhere but at her, "Just let me go, Princess. Let me die again." The second slap stung, but simply looking away had drained him of everything he had left, and he didn’t even flinch at the contact. "You son of a BITCH," She growled, "don’t you DARE tell to let you die again!" she grabbed him by the shoulders, and shook him as hard as she was able, "I can decide what I want to do by myself, and there is no way in all of HELL I am going to let you just walk away." Doyle couldn’t help but look at her again, and he was almost to exhausted to take in what he saw. Cordelia's hair was mussed, her lipstick ever so slightly smeared, her cheeks streaked with tearstains, her eyes red from crying. Raising a hand he brushed a tear away. "Oh Princess, what happened to yah? Who did this?" exhaustion or no, betrayal or no, he stand the thought of anyone harming his Cordelia. "Who did--?" she moved to slap him again, but he managed to catch her wrist before it could make contact, "YOU did!" she screamed at him slipping into full Outranged Bitch mode. "You did this, God Damn it! You left! You kissed me and then got yourself KILLED, you asshole! You just turned and jumped and left me! And Angel! And all I have left of you are these damned visions! You left me, you bastard!" Cordelia's screams of furry faded as she choked on her tears, "You left me." She pounded on his chest, "You left me and got yourself fucking killed. You left me." Doyle pulled her in close, wrapping his arms as tightly around her as his poor, battered body would allow. Cordelia tucked into the crook of is neck, still pounding on his chest lightly, repeating her mantra over and over. "You left me, God Damn it…you just left me…you left…" Doyle, his mind too numb to think strate, could only hold her whispering, "I'm sorry, Princess, I'm sorry," into her soft hair. He didn’t know how long they stood like that before she managed to compose herself enough to pull away from him, though still staying in the circle of his arms. As they locked eyes again, he saw the strength he knew she had always possessed take over again. She blinked away the redness of her eyes, and tossed her hair off of her shoulders as it fell back into exactly the right places as it always did. Once she had managed to compose herself once again, she simply stared into his eyes, "I lost you once, Allen Frances Doyle, and I'll be a Vampire's lunch before I let it happen again." The mentioning of vampires caused the pain in his heart grow anew. Looking over her shoulder to the office building, he saw Angel braced in the doorway, always keeping just shy of the light, every muscle visibly poised to pounce forwords. Doyle let his arms fall, "You have Angel now, Princess," he whispered, his own voice heavy with tears, "You don’t need some second rate, ex teacher, drunk demon anymore." "Like hell I don’t." she snapped, rolling her eyes, "Who the hell do you think I'm going to tease now? Who will I go get MoacoCheenios with? Who will notice all my new shoes?" she paused, "And what the hell is this about me and Angel?" "I saw you two…I saw…I'm sorry, "He tried to walk away again. Before he could turn completely, Cordelia held his head in placed and forced level with hers, "What did you see?" she demanded. Doyle couldn’t stop the tear which escaped his eye, "The kiss. I'm sorry, I never should have come back. I'm sorry." "God, assuming much are we?" she rolled her eyes, her tone presenting the question as if it was simply a fact, "You see one kiss between friends, which was TOTALLY platonic and ALL your fault, and you just *assume* I'm sleeping with him? Phiff! As if, Doyle." Though condescending, her voice held the soft edge of truth. She looked him deeply in the eye, seeming to look past his body and into his very soul, "It's not Angel I dream of at night. It's not Angel I see in my nightmares each time, forced to watch him taken away from me. It's not Angel who makes me want to punch him and hold him at the same time, simply by smiling at me." Her voice was now so low that it was hard for Doyle, even with his demon attributes, to hear, "It's not Angel who I want to kiss non stop." She paused, "Although he is a nice kisser…but not as good as you," she hurriedly finished. Doyle just looked at her, his voice and mind numb with conflicting emotions. Finally, once thought managed to slip out, "Who then?" Cordelia gave him a harsh 'Well DUH!' look which made him feel all of three inches tall, but instead of the biting retort he expected, she leaned in to gently brush a kiss against his lips, "Guess…" Doyle gave up trying to fight it, and collapsed to the ground, dragging Cordelia down with him. Before she could get up from the ground, he pulled her close and simply held her. She almost pulled away, but then relaxed into him, holding him just as tightly back. "DOYLE!" the sharp cry made him finally open his drowsy eyes. Angel was dashing across the now shadow filled street towards them. Cordelia's sat up, "Come on…I'm getting concrete hair…and that just will *so* not do!" Doyle thought he managed a non-commentel sound, but he greatly suspected that is came out more as a moan of pain. Before Cordelia could comment on it, though, Angel's strong arms pulled Doyle's limp body up and slammed it against the wall. Blinking slowly at Angel's vamped out face, she managed a lame, "Wha...?" of protest. "Doyle, I swear, if you *EVER* pull another stunt like that one on the ship, I will rip you apart with my bare hands and feed you piece-by-piece to a Vorgot demon!" he hissed. Doyle gave him a sleepy, " 'K…s'it's'a deal." Before letting his eyes finally slip shut, warm sleep enwrapping him. He was home, he had his friends again, and most importantly, he had his Princess. The rest of Life could wait…he had some catching up to do first.