Title: Good Enough
Author: Lex (NOT IMPURE LEX!! Although I do love her dearly)
Email: goddesslex@aol.com
Rating: PG
Episode spoilers: Heroes, but then aren't they all lately.
Archive: I don't even want it. Personally I think it's depressing so why
would anyone want to read it, but I had to write it just so I could get 
it out and not walk around depressed myself. This is supposed to go in 
the author's note part isn't it?
Pairing - Take a look at the name of this list and then rethink the
question.
Disclaimer: I've always been taught that when you borrow something you
should return it in better condition than it was when you borrowed it. 
Usually that is the case because I'm sure the BtVS/A:TS characters have 
got to be happier when they play with the fic writers rather than when 
Joss puts them through hell (in angel's case that would be a literal 
statement). This time I think I might actually be returning them a 
little worse for wear. I don't feel guilty though because Joss deserves 
it.
Summary: Here's a new one. Cordy's not coping well with the loss of our
favorite half-demon
Authors notes: Typically, I don't write fic. I read fic. I write streams
of consciousness that don't make much sense. But I'm sitting around 
writing my Christmas cards (by some act of god I might actually get them
out before the new year) listening to the Felicity soundtrack, which is 
actually quite good, and there's this Sarah McLachlan song on it called 
Good Enough. It doesn't actually apply to the fic but it inspired it. 
Anyway, if it sucks...oh, well. Deal with it sucking. I have.
betas : It hasn't been. You can cope with that too. I have faith in you.
Feedback: If you must.




The bar was one of those dark and musty holes in the wall that no

self-respecting alcoholic wold be caught dead in. Which was what made it

the perfect place for so many of those who had already hit rock bottom 

to hide out in. A handful of lone figures were scattered about the room, 

not even keeping up with the pretense of being social.

At the end of the bar was a woman who could have been beautiful if her 

hair weren't stringy and unkempt and if she would bother with things 

like sleeping or eating something a bit more nourishing than bar 

pretzels. She motioned to the bartender for another whiskey as someone 

sat down next to her.

"So this is where you've been hiding yourself Princess," said the man at

her side. "I must say this is a lovely new crowd you're running with. 

They seem very," he paused at the sight of a man rooting through 

his nose, "earthy."

The woman didn't so much as acknowledge the man at her side. The 

bartender brought her her drink which she tossed back with practiced 

ease. She tossed a few bills on the bar and slid off the stool.

"Easy there Princess," said the man as she paused to get her balance 

using the bar as leverage and began to walk toward the bar's exit.

He walked with her out into the glaring daylight of the street. A few

people glanced at her on the sidewalk. The women usually gave her looks 

of disgust and sayd a silent prayer of thanks that they hadn't 

deteriorated to the point that this young girl had.

The men usually only bothered with neck-down appraisals. With a shower 

and some clean clothes she would almost be fuckable.

"Hey, watcher where you're staring!" her companion shouted at one guy 

who's eyes lingered a bbit too long on her cleavage. "She's still a 

lady!" He looked her up and down himself. "Although she does do her 

damnest to hide it though doesn't she?"

He followed her as she entered a building a couple of blocks down and 

into the door marked Angel Investigations.

******************

Angel looked up from behind the desk at the girl's entrance. "Cordy," he

said with way too much enthusiasm. "You're here. That's great."

"Angel, my man. What the hell have you let happen to her?"

Angel didn't respond as he got up and pulled back the chair that he had

been occupying for his secretary to take a seat as Doyle sat down in the

overstuffed leather chair nearby. The brunette put her head down on the

desk.

Angel's original enthusiasm changed to concern as he began to stroke the

brunette's head in a comforting fashion. "I know it's hard."

She turned her head so that she could look up at him. "I see him Angel."

"Well of course you see me. I'm here," said Doyle from his chair.

"You're trying to cope. It happens," offered Angel.

"He talks to me. Calls me Princess. Tells me I look like shit," she said

with a sad smile.

"Now that was not me!" Doyle said with indignation. "A bit peaked maybe,

but never like shit."



"He tells me that I wasn't good enough. I didn't deserve his love and

that's why he had to die."

"What!?!" came from an outraged Doyle jumping out of chair.

"He would never say things like that,"Angel said still stroking her hair.

"He loved you."

"You're damn right I love her. I could be bouncing around the Gods be

damned Elysian Fields right now enjoying a martyr's afterlife but instead 

I'm following her around like a puppy from bar to bar and now I have to watch

you touching her when I can't. Either I'm in love or I'm a damned glutton for

punishment, I am."

"He shouldn't have Angel," she said with tears beginning to well up. "He

shouldn't have loved me."

"So now you're telling me who I should love! I die so that she can live and

the girl still won't let me make a decision for myself."

"I was so mean to him. He was this great guy and I had to tell him he

wasn't good enough because of stupid things that he couldn't control. 

I loved him and I didn't even know it. I never got to tell him."

The admission was enough to knock the wind out of Doyle's sails. "Ah,

Princess. Of course I knew," he said as he dropped back into the chair. 

"It was in an 'I'm walking off to my doom to save your life and the lives 

of others so for once I get to have the girl' kind of way. But I knew."

"Cordy, he's been gone for two months and the only thing that's improved

around here is your tolorance for whiskey."

"That's my girl," came from Doyle's pride filled voice.

Cordy got up and walked over to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup.

"Don't you dare tell me to get over it Angel."

"Not get over it. Just get past it."

"Well, not that anyone's asked me my opinion, but I think it's kind of nice

to know that someone's pining away for me."

"Don't you think I want to?" she said, anger in her voice.

"Now there Princess," Doyle started.

"Cordelia," Angel said at the same time.

"Don't Angel," she warned. "Don't you dare stand there and tell me how he

didn't sacrifice his life so I can sit around and waste mine. Don't you

dare tell me that he would want me to move on."

"Well the first parts true. As for the second, I kind of fancy you in black

and spoiled for any and all other men."

"Then I won't," said Angel. "I'll tell you what I want for you. I want you

to be happy. I want you to have a bright future with love and light in your

life. I don't want to see you become old and bitter and sit around in the

dark dreaming about what can't be."

"Like him."

"Like me."