Author: VampWillow Disclaimer: Cordelia, Angel, Doyle and all characters from the Buffyverse do not belong to me. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions, the WB, 20th Century Fox and possibly themselves, but not me. Rating: G Spoilers: Through "Hero" and "Parting Gifts," and "Hush" on BtVS PROLOGUE: Tonight is New Year's Eve, 1999, and I don't even have a date. Once, that would have been the worst thing about it. Now, the worst thing about it is thinking about the way it should have been, and who should have been here. I should have been spending New Year's Eve with Doyle. The man knew how to party. He could really bring in the millennium right. Hey, what more could the year 2000 do to us? Apocalypse, demons, disasters? Been there, done that, moved on. We could have been ringing in the new year tonight, together, ready to face whatever the world threw at us next. Even if that weird stuff that happened in Sunnydale had happened in L.A., losing our voices and all? Well, it would have been scary but it would still have been all right, except I could never be a movie star, never go to another audition, except I just blew my audition anyway because I couldn't stop crying so would it really matter anyhow? Instead, Angel and I have been hanging around being depressed. God, I never thought I'd be in competition for being the broody one. It's so not me. Yeah, Wesley would go out with me in a heartbeat, but who cares? He's not the one I want to see tonight. Angel finally told me that he went to see those oracles or whatever they are, to find out if he could get Doyle back. They told him no. I guess they've done him enough favors for this year, turning back time for him and everything. Some favor. Yeah, right. But, he asked for it so he can't complain too much, I guess. What could I offer somebody cosmic? I don't think they care about the latest designer anything. I don't have much to give away any more, not that I did much giving away while I had things. I wasn't into giving things. Now I don't have anything except what Doyle gave me, and I don't think the oracles would bid at any auctions for that. I don't have an acting career, so there's nothing to give up there. Just a dream. Then again, maybe dreams mean something to those guys. Hey, what else have I got to lose? "So how do we get their attention?" Angel frowned. "Last time I did what Doyle had done, threw some incense on the flame, and it seemed to work." He threw another handful, and a cloud of odd-smelling smoke went up, but nothing happened. "Well, maybe I need to do it." Angel looked at me, startled. "Yeah. I think you're right. Go ahead." He handed me his little pouch of whatever smelly stuff it was - I didn't look, couldn't care less - and stepped out of the way. Wrinking up my nose, I took a handful of the stuff and threw it on the flame. "Hey guys, are you home? Talk to me." Angel chuckled. "Not exactly the high poetic style, but maybe it will do." And all of a sudden, Angel wasn't there anymore, and I was someplace else. "What do you seek, little girl? It's a busy night." These weird glitter people were standing there, except I wasn't sure where there was. It was all kind of marbley and Roman, sort of like one of those big-budget movies with guys with muscles and togas, that I would never get to be in, now. "You guys, you do trades sometimes, right? You take, like, offerings?" The glitter-guy laughed. "What could you possibly have to offer us?" "Well, nothing I can show you, because I haven't got much except a dream that was probably going to die anyway, but that's all I've got, so I'm hoping maybe it will be enough. Sorry, I'm blabbling, but maybe that won't happen anymore." This time, the glitter-girl was the one who laughed. "Blabbling? Yes, girl, you are. So tell us what you are offering. And yes, we already know, but you need to say it." "Okay." I took a deep breath. "You know how everybody in Sunnydale lost their voices for awhile? And you know I want to be an actress. It's all that I have ever wanted, until now." "Go on, girl." The voice was surprisingly gentle. "Well, I know Angel already asked for Doyle back and you told him no. And I know that I can't be a very good receptionist without my voice, so I guess I won't really have a job either. But I couldn't think of anything else that means anything to me that I could give up.... to get.... Doyle... back...." God, this is embarrassing. Here I am crying again. Me, Cordelia the bitch. This bites, big time. "It's all right, girl. We've seen tears before, and appearances to the contrary, we don't melt." The glitter-girl was kinder than I expected, but still.... I hate this. I hate people, even weird glitter people, feeling sorry for me and I hate begging. I have never begged. The glitter-guy said softly, "We know that. You've never begged before. You have had a great deal of pride all your life, Cordelia Chase. You never wanted anyone to feel sorry for you." "So?" I sniffled, couldn't help it. I'm sure my face was all red and horrible-looking, too. The glitter-girl spoke. "We know that you are offering your voice. We will not take it, because your voice is needed, not for acting, but for other things. But we will take the other offering, the one you have not named, but have given without naming. We will take the pride which kept you from asking anyone for help." "Huh? I don't... get it." I couldn't look at them, all I could do was whine and snivel and cry like a stupid, stupid baby. Way to go, Cordelia, make a fool of yourself so they can laugh at you. Like that's really going to accomplish anything except make you look like a piece of garbage. "What was most important to you all your life, Cordelia Chase? It wasn't your voice. It was your image, the way that people saw you. People had to admire you, pursue you, and you could turn them away. You never asked anyone for anything. You were in control. But that kind of control is always an illusion. I think that you are beginning to see that now." "Yeah, right, whatever, but how does that get Doyle back? Take something, whatever you have to take. Whatever, I don't care, take something, anything." "We have. You are begging. You have already given up what you valued most... until now." Finally I looked up, through my tears. "All right, if that's what it takes. I'll say it, okay? I'll say it. You want to hear me beg? You've got it." "Yes, we do." And then I was dizzy and the world was spinning and it was like one of those visions that Doyle passed along to me, except maybe worse because I was sure that I was going to get sick and I found myself hitting the floor and I wasn't even sure where I was, except that the floor was cold and... And... and.... there was a hand there. And the hand was attached to a body. A body that was lying on the floor, face-up. A body that was alive. A body that was also completely naked. "Aaaaarrgghhhh!" Suddenly Angel was there, taking his shirt off and throwing it over Doyle, and then giving him the biggest hug around the shoulders, while I just sat there with tears streaming down my face and wondering what I looked like and finally realizing that it didn't matter any more. "Welcome home, Doyle." The Portal Disclaimer: Doyle, Cordelia, Angel, etc. were created by Joss Whedon and are owned by Twentieth Century Fox, the WB and all those who have bigger and better lawyers than real people can afford. I’m only trying to touch the hem of their garments, really. Rating: G Spoilers: For all Angel eps seen to date but especially Hero. Comments: This is the flip side of Going Back for Doyle, from Doyle’s perspective, but it can stand alone also. The first thing he noticed was that it wasn’t dark. He expected it to be dark, and it wasn’t. Wherever he was, there was light all around him, which made it even stranger that he couldn’t see anything at all. He realized that he was walking, although he could not see the surface below his feet. There was nothing in the undifferentiated brightness around him which would tell him whether or not he was really moving. There was a sensation that his feet were moving, but maybe that was an illusion; he couldn’t tell. The next thing he realized was that he seemed to be breathing, too. Maybe it was force of habit? "This walking through light business seems a bit pointless, don’tcha think?" Doyle said aloud in a deliberately casual voice, mostly testing whether he could hear himself speak. He could. He expected his voice to echo, but it didn’t. However, no one answered. "Am I supposed to be headin’ somewhere in particular?" No answer. "Hey, isn’t somebody supposed to come along and guide me wherever it is I’m goin’?" No answer. "Look, man, I may be dead but I’ve still got feelings, you know. Isn’t anyone goin’ to talk to me, here?" This time he heard something.... soft laughter. "Yo! Who’s there? Speak to me, won’t ya?" "You’re not exactly dead," said a soft voice. He couldn’t tell if the voice was female, or a young male. "Close, but not quite." "Now wait a minute, whoever you are. What do you mean I’m not dead? What was the point of this whole exercise then?" "Oh, you did what you set out to do.” The unseen voice had a chuckle in it. "You did just fine. Nobody died. You’ve been there, you know that people don’t really die from a broken heart." "Well, that’s just fine and dandy. Whoever you are, that’s just all wonderful. I do the right thing for the first time in my life and you want me to feel guilty about it, eh? Is that it? I did what I had to do. That’s that. Don’t try to make me feel sorry about it. So what’s this all about anyway if I’m not dead?" "It’s all about where you go from here." "Well, you don’t sound like Saint Peter to me, whoever you are. What else do I have to do? It’s a bit late to change anythin’ now, isn’t it?" "No one is asking you to change the past. We have seen that you have the courage to die as a hero. Do you have the courage to live as one?" "What the bleedin’ hell do you mean? Like I have a choice now!" The voice chuckled again. "Oh, you always have a choice. That’s the toughest part." "Excuse me? What are you talkin’ about? Because you lost me somewhere." "No, you lost yourself somewhere. But you found an answer. If you die as a hero, you never have to find out whether you can live as one. It’s an easy way out, isn’t it?" "Just a minute. Can’t a guy have his moment any more? What’s the point of doing what needs to be done if somebody is going to throw it in your face the same as if you didn’t?" "Doyle." The voice was patient now, with an almost affectionate tone. "You said it right. ‘Too bad we’ll never know if this is a face you could learn to love.’ When you die a hero, you don’t have to be there to pick up the pieces afterward. You don’t have to worry what anybody thinks of you any more. Once you’re a dead hero, the game’s over and you can’t lose. You never have to find out whether you could keep on going." "And what d’ye mean, keep going? It’s a bit hard when you’re dead, isn’t it?" "Your friend Angel was willing to be the one to make the sacrifice. He was ready for it. He had spent most of the last hundred years getting ready for it. He had even turned back time so that he could do the right thing when the time came. And you? You would have been there to try to carry on, not to die as a hero, but to live as one. Much harder, don’t you think? This way you don’t have to worry about ever making a mistake again. You don’t have to worry about being human, or about being a demon." "And your point is?" "My point is that where you are, isn’t a where at all. Not yet. There really are two ways to go from here, but they aren’t the two ways that you were expecting." "So, go on already. Somehow I feel like I haven’t got all of eternity." "You’ve gone through a portal, a place of testing. Some who go through here are destroyed. Some, who have proven themselves worthy, have a chance to pass through without being destroyed. You have proven yourself worthy of the chance, but no one will force it on you. It must be your decision, made freely and with full understanding." "What are the options?" "You can stay a dead hero. Play it safe. You never have to go back to the time and place you left. You can go on to start all over again, and once you leave here, you will never remember who you were." "Y’mean, like reincarnation? A new life?" "Close enough. It’s a little different than you think, but you’re not far off." "And the other choice is, what?" "You can come out the other side of this portal still alive, still who you were. It won’t be exactly where and when you went in, but you will be able to get back. The difference is, you won't be safe. You won’t be a dead hero. You’ll have to take your chances. You might make mistakes, because you’ll be alive and human. People won’t be remembering you as the poor dead noble martyr any more." "Still me, demon and all?" "Still you, demon and all." "Not a bad bargain, considerin’." "Do you think you can handle it? Living as a hero can be much more difficult than dying as one." "Hey, what more do I have to lose?" "Only the dead seem perfect. The living ... " "Yeah, sometimes we get our faces slapped. It’s all right." Doyle laughed suddenly, thinking of Cordelia. "I know someone who can slap my face any old time she wants.... as long as I get to kiss her again." "Done." The light faded slowly, and he began to hear another voice. It was Cordelia’s voice. "Yeah, right, whatever, but how does that get Doyle back? Take something, whatever you have to take. Whatever, I don’t care, take something, anything..... All right, if that’s what it takes. I’ll say it, okay? I’ll say it. You want to hear me beg? You’ve got it." He caught his breath, not quite believing what he was hearing. The princess, begging? No way, no how, could this be possible..... .... And then he was lying on cold stone.... Alive, and not three feet away from the tear-streaked face of Cordelia.... and.... and.... Quite, quite naked. "Aaaarrrgghhhh!" It was going to take a long, long lifetime to live this down. But he could handle it. He was a hero now, after all. Starting Over Author: VampWillow Disclaimer Doyle, Cordelia, Angel, etc. were created by Joss Whedon and are owned by Twentieth Century Fox, Warner Brothers and other folks with very sharp teeth. I just like to play with them a little. Rating G Spoilers for all Angel eps seen to date but especially "Hero." Comments: A sequel to "Going Back for Doyle" and "The Portal" CORDELIA I didn’t trust myself to stand up yet; I was still dizzy, and somehow I couldn’t stop shaking, so I used the moment when Angel threw his jacket over Doyle’s naked body and bent down to hug him, and kind of scuttled over there on my rear while Angel’s back was between Doyle’s face and me so that Doyle couldn't see it. It was bad enough that he had probably heard me beg; I didn’t want him to see me crawl. Then Angel straightened up and moved to the side and I was staring like a fool, with the tears still going on and on. My hand reached out, kind of by itself, and touched... what looked like, seemed to be.... his face. I wasn’t quite sure if there would be anything there, or if my hand would just go through. Some part of me expected his skin to be cold, like Angel’s hands always are, but it wasn’t. His face was warm, all right. In fact, it was positively hot; every part of him that I could see (which was most of him) was blushing furiously. I didn’t trust myself to speak, either, even if they didn’t take my voice. Before I could make a decision what to do, I had my arms around him, and he had his arms around me, and even though there was nothing but Angel’s leather jacket in between us, it didn’t matter any more. His lips were warm, too, and his arms were stronger than they looked, and I couldn’t stop kissing him, and I couldn’t let go, not even for a moment, not for anything. I had my hands on his warm, bare back and shoulders, and they just kept moving, trying to be sure that this was real. Of the two of us, he was the first one to speak. “Hush now, princess, don’t cry any more, it’s all right," he murmured against my cheek. When I tried to answer, my voice came out in nothing more than a whisper, but I found that I could talk. I murmured, "You are so going to pay for making me grovel for you, little man. Don’t you ever, ever do anything like that again. Don’t you ever die on me again, you hear?" Then I kissed him some more, until he had to remind me, with a soft laugh, "Easy there. I am still breathin,’ you know, unlike some other people. I still need air." But he was holding me while he was saying it, and his hands were stroking my hair, and somehow it was still all right and after a while, I was able to stop shaking, even though I still felt like I could never get up again. Then Angel was there again, with something in his hand. "Here," he said, offering Doyle his shirt instead of the jacket. "You can tie this one around your waist till we get you out of here." "Yeah, and then we can get you some new clothes," I added. "Back-from-the-dead people deserve a better wardrobe than what you used to slink around in." "Turn around then, darlin’, while I make the switch here," Doyle implored. "Ha! You think I"m going to take my eyes off you? And have you go poof on me again? You wish." "Delia, please." "Angel, don’t let him disappear again." I bit my lip and moved away a little. The air felt so cold without Doyle’s arms around me. "I won’t, Cordelia, I won’t," Angel promised. It was a long moment, way too long, while I looked away, and then I felt the warmth of living arms around me again. "We’d best get up now. 'Tis a bit cold here on the floor. C’mon, I’ll help you." I almost said that I didn’t need any help, but then I remembered what the oracle-people said, so I tried not to say it. Besides, it wasn’t true. But we kind of helped each other up, with Angel steadying us, because Doyle wasn’t too sure on his feet either. I guess being dead does that to a person. I don’t remember too much about the way back to Angel’s place that night. I think I heard a lot of people yelling "Happy New Year," and "Happy Millennium," but I’m not really sure of anything, except that I wouldn’t let go of Doyle’s hand. DOYLE I’d never seen Cordelia look like that before, and may I never see her look that way again. She was whiter than Angel, and I could see her shaking, but then when she threw her arms around me and started kissing me, her face all wet with tears, I couldn’t think of anything else but how good it felt to have her in my arms. I almost laughed at the first words she said to me, in between kissing me so hard that I almost forgot to breathe, and groping my back over and over again like she was checking every inch of it. "You are so going to pay for making me grovel for you, little man. Don’t you ever, ever do anything like that again. Don’t you ever die on me again, you hear?" Oh, my dear one, how I wish that I could make that promise and keep it forever. But the only one of us who could, it isn’t you and it isn’t me. I didn’t know what I was going to do when she wouldn’t take her eyes off me, even when I needed to take off that leather jacket of Angel’s (which was not at all comfortable as a loincloth, let me tell you) and replace it with his shirt. She looked so lost, so forlorn when she turned away, as though she were certain I wouldn’t be there when she turned back. Truth is, I wasn’t so sure myself. Somehow, with Angel’s help, we made it up off the floor, and started walking out of there. I held her hand like neither one of us was ever going to let go. Things got a little blurred there for awhile, and I think there were people yelling about the New Year, and the next thing I knew, Cordelia and I were sitting down and Angel was making some tea. I wasn’t ready to ask for anything stronger yet, considering that I wasn’t sure how long I could keep from falling over just to start with, but with Cordelia’s hands on me, it didn’t matter anyhow. I was plenty intoxicated already, thank you. After a bit, it dawned on me. "Say, it’s New Year’s already? So, I’ve been gone a month then?" Cordelia nodded. "We have your things all packed up. There wasn’t much." She gestured toward a small box on the floor with one hand, still holding mine with the other. "The manager was a real jerk - you were dead at the time, and all he wanted was the rent. That apartment was no loss anyway. You can do so much better." "I think I am," I answered. "Happy New Year." And I kissed her again. "So," Angel spoke from the kitchen, "Do you want to stay here for a few days till you get a new place?" Before I could answer, Cordelia jumped in. "If he stays here, I stay too. Don’t either one of you dare to think that I’m going to let Mister Hero here go tagging along with you on some adventure or other and getting himself killed again any time soon. Oh no, some things are going to change around here from now on." Angel and I exchanged quick glances. An over-protective Cordelia could cause some complications in the future. Ah well, that was for another day. She caught the look, and gave me a determined scowl. "Don’t you argue either. If Angel wants anyone else to go out and play hero with him, which he doesn’t want in the slightest, because he likes to work alone anyway, as he has said, many times --well then, I know a so-called demon hunter who could probably use a job. He’s not much use in a fight, but then again, other than doing the big burst of light thing, which is not to be repeated, you get that? --- neither are you. You’ve already done your part for the oppressed and downtrodden demons of the world. You stay put, I stay put. Got that?" She tangled her fingers in my hair and pulled a little, just to make sure I knew she meant it, and I knew this was not the time to argue with the gal. "Then again," I ventured, smiling at Cordelia, "I suppose I could always hang around awhile at your place, just till I get a new place of my own, of course." "Well, sure, just cause you were dead for a month doesn’t mean I need any more roommates. One ghost is plenty." She kissed me again, good and proper, just to take any sting out of it, and I didn’t mind a bit. "Still not sure that I’m no ghost? Well, well. We’ll have to do something about that." "Yep, you’re just going to have to prove it to me. Might take a while before I'm completely sure, though. Think you can handle that?" "Worth a try."