Doyle's Princess

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                              By: Isa Bedigian

From the first moment I saw her, I thought she was beautiful. The long
black hair, tousled just enough that even straight, it had a great fullness
about it. She flips it over her face and smiles through it, this amazing
smile. Her sexy teeth shining through those perfect red lips.

If I didn't know a manly guy named Angel, that would be the way I refer to
her. She's almost Goddess-like though. The look of an Angel, the secrecy of
the Devil, the passion of Venus DeMilo. Cordelia has it all, and then some.

Cordelia - I'd call her Sweetness but I can tell she'd slap me - walks
around like she owns this place. It's cute really, she seems to possess the
world and yet she's flat broke, according to Angel. I like a woman in need
that refuses to admit it.

"Angel!" I hear her yell from the next room. "Help!"

"What is it now?" he's trying to remain calm, but I can tell she's annoyed.
He leaves and I sigh. Why doesn't she just call 'Doyle!!!' now and then?
I'll aid her in *any* way she requests.

"I can't use this mouse," she complains. "My nails wanna catch on it and
break."

I watch Angel try to keep his human face as he hooks a new mouse up for
her. I'm beginning to think 'Princess' is the word for her. Doyle's
Princess. Yep, sounds good.

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