TITLE: Good To Be Alive AUTHOR: Ragna (Obsessive-Compulsive Spike - SpikeGrrl1@aol.com; fourstarmaryfan@yahoo.com) RATING: G CLASSIFICATION: Doyle/Buffy friendship, Doyle/Cordy relationship SPOILERS: Uh...I'm setting this way in the future, like a year from now. So all of the newest seasons (BtVS - 4; AtS - 1) DISTRIBUTION: Any sites with my fic up; you all have unspoken permission. I write it, you can post it. Everyone else just keep my name on it and let me know. ARCHIVED AT: http://www.angelfire.com/de/hellmouth/myfic.html DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If you do, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kazui Sandollar, FOX and the WB own it or them. I'm just holding Spike and Riley hostage. Carolyn's got Xander, May's got Oz & Giles, Cathryn's got Ethan & Wesley, Melissa has Forrest, Shelly has Angel, and Gillian has Doyle. You may see them by appointment only. FEEDBACK: Sorry I'm not home right now I'm walking in the spiderwebs so leave a message and I'll call you back...in other words, I want it. Don't care if it's onlist or not. AUTHOR'S NOTES: My very first fic with Doyle and Buffy as the main characters! I'll attempt a real UC pairing later. I think. ~*~*~*~*~ Buffy stared at the bottle of Vicodin the doctor had prescribed for her mother. Her Slayer healing abilities hadn't started to kick in yet, and the pain shooting through her ribs were killing her. She swallowed one or two, she couldn't really tell, but she hoped the pain would just go away. There was a knock on the door, and Buffy glanced at the clock. she thought as she clutched her ribs and stood up, heading to the door. Before she reached it, though, she grabbed a stake, just to be on the safe side. "Who's there?" "A friend." She smiled as she opened the door. "You're an idiot, you know. Get in here." The man walked in, flashing a smile. "Well...Angel wanted me to check up on you, so I'm here to check." "Sure you are," Buffy said, taking Doyle's jacket. "Whoa...wobbly feeling coming on," she said, loosing her balance. Doyle caught her before she hit the floor. "Are you all right? Do you need help?" "I'll be fine. Just took some medicine so some pain would go away." "Well, you think you'll be able to quickly leave the house if necessary?" "Why? Did you have a vision, Mr. Recently Resurrected?" Doyle nodded. "I think it's going to happen tonight, but I'm not sure. Are you really okay?" "I have a few broken ribs, I think, and my shoulders and head hurt." She pointed to the couch. "Go ahead and sit down." Doyle sat down on the couch near her, watching her for a moment before standing up. "Where's your refrigerator?" "In the kitchen. Why?" "You should ice your ribs." Buffy didn't argue, just relaxed into the sofa and shut her eyes. She could tell when he was coming back, by the soft sound of his footsteps on the carpet and the scent of aftershave. "Got you some ice." "Thanks." "Which side hurts?" "The right side." Doyle sat behind her, on the left. He put the ice pack on her lap, then tapped her shoulder lightly to let her know he was sitting next to her. When she tensed, Doyle frowned. "You're tense. Move back a bit." Buffy arched her eyebrow, scooting back and putting the ice pack to her ribs. "What are you planning to do?" "Massage your shoulders. Hasn't anyone ever done that for you?" "No one since Angel," she said quietly as Doyle placed his hands on her shoulder, grasping and releasing in a comforting rhythm. The Vicodin started to kick in, and she started to feel sleepy, yawning slightly. "I hope I'm not boring you enough to yawn." Buffy smiled slightly. Doyle came down to check on her every once in a while, and they normally talked all night. Tonight, she didn't think that was going to happen. "You're not boring me. The medicine's making me sleepy." Doyle nodded, continuing the massage. He realized there was things he had missed while he was in limbo, things like just talking to people. Learning new things. And he *did* enjoy being around the Slayer, who was a fascinating person in her own right. "What's death like?" The question startled Doyle. "Didn't Angel ever tell you?" "No." "Well...it hurts. But only for a moment. Ever seen the movie American Beauty?" "Yeah." "Remember at the end, how Lester says your life flashes by in a second, and that second lasts an eternity? That's exactly how it is. And then there's a peace that settles about you, and you feel like you're asleep." Buffy nodded, starting to doze off. "Did I ever tell you I look forward to your visits?" "No." "Well, I do. You're sweet. Cordelia's lucky." "I thought you had Riley." "We broke up." Doyle thought to ask more but stopped. He just continued to massage her neck until she fell asleep, then he got up and pulled a blanket over her sleeping body. He headed towards the kitchen, to the phone. Quickly dialing a number, he waited for the familiar voice to answer. "Yes?" "Cordelia...everything's all right." "So it didn't happen tonight?" "No, it didn't. I miss you." "I miss you too. You coming back tomorrow?" "Yeah, Princess." "Is she asleep now?" "Yes. She got hurt, but she's all right." Doyle looked over at the sleeping girl. She was his friend, one of his few. He didn't want her to get hurt. "Doyle?" "Yes?" "Take care of her, first. I'm still having your stupid visions, and I think she needs a friend right now. But nothing more than friendly stuff, all right?" Doyle laughed slightly. "All right." "And no more acts of heroism." "Cordy...I love you." "Love you too. Good night." "Night." Doyle hung up the phone, settled into a chair near Buffy, and watched her sleep, waiting for her to wake up so he could help her get over everything that was going so wrong in her life. After all, the Oracles only let him come back to help her, so he might as well do as he was told. He just continued to watch, even as he felt himself fall asleep. As he shut his eyes, he felt great to be alive and home, even if he did have to run back and forth to Sunnydale to take care of the fragile Slayer. Life was hard, but at least he had a life, again. And he gained a friend out of it.