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Doyle waited until Wesley and the others were well away from the room before letting himself slump back on the pillows, closing his eyes and trying not feel for a moment or two. Almost immediately he felt Angel's hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "It's gonna be okay," Angel said. "Just take it easy. Take some, I dunno, deep breaths or something." He laughed at that, wincing at the sound -- high and thready, on the verge of panic, as well as being in a voice that wasn't his. "Yeah, 'cause deep breaths are really going to help here." "Well not like they're gonna *hurt*," Angel said, his thumb moving in light circles across an upper arm that curved more fully than Doyle was used to. "Sure you don't need anything? Water?" "A dick?" Doyle laughed harshly and ran his hands over his -- Cordelia's -- face. "Sorry, that's not helping. I... This is just freaking me out a little." Angel nodded, his eyes dark with sympathy. "I know. I know it is. You've got every right to be freaked out." "This has gotta be freaking you out too, huh?" Doyle realised, glancing up at Angel. "Looking at Cordelia and hearing me? Well, sorta me. Cordelia with my accent." "And your eyes," Angel said, tracing the delicate skin just underneath one with a feather-light touch that made Doyle tremble. "Cordy's face, but your eyes." "Really?" He reached a hand up to his face again, but stopped when he realised there was no way he could see his own eyes. "I don't suppose there's a mirror handy? Considering that I'm in Cordelia's body, and I *still* don't know what she looks like with short hair." "I don't know." Angel moved away from the bed and over to a dresser against the wall, then started opening drawers and looking inside them. "You look good. I mean, she... you..." The vampire stopped and looked at Doyle. "Sorry." "Hey, *I* don't know what to call me, so it would be unfair to expect you to." He managed a smile for his friend. "It's all right." "When I said we were gonna get you out of there, this wasn't what I was thinking," Angel said, coming over to the bedside table and sliding the one drawer out. He reached in and brought out a small mirror. "Um... here. If you're sure you want to..." "I'm sure," Doyle said, as he reached out and took it. He hesitated for a moment, steeling himself before raising it so he could see his reflection. Cordelia looked back at him. Older, blonder, shorter hair than he remembered, but it was Cordelia's face. Except for his eyes in the middle of it. "Hi Princess," he said softly, reaching out a hand to touch the reflection, speaking to the spirit that should've been where he was. When he looked up at Angel, the vampire's expression was just as troubled as his own -- as Cordy's. "She looks good," he said, the whole situation the most surreal experience he'd ever had. "Yeah. She does." Angel fidgeted, looking like he wanted to come closer again but was fighting the urge. Which was a silly thing to do as far as Doyle was concerned. "C'mere," he said, holding out a hand. "I don't bite, no matter what body I'm in. Well, not unless ya want me to." Angel hesitated, then moved over to within reach without taking the offered hand. "You sure there isn't anything I can get you? Something to eat? There's got to be something." Doyle continued to hold out his hand. "Your company is a good start. *C'mere*." Angel glanced from the outstretched hand to Doyle's face, then slowly put his hand into Cordy's. It felt strong and rough to Doyle against the smooth skin of Cordelia's palm. "It's still me," Doyle said, tightening his fingers around Angel's. "Everything we talked about when I was in the computer, that still holds true." "I know." It was obvious from the way Angel said it that he wasn't convinced, but he took Doyle's hand between both of his, cradling it carefully, then sank down into the chair Wesley had been sitting in earlier. With a gentleness that made Doyle catch his breath, Angel pressed his lips to Doyle's knuckles in a chaste kiss. "It's still true for me too." "I love you," Doyle said, just to hear himself say it. Even if it wasn't his voice. Angel didn't let go of Doyle's hand, but moved to the side of the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight, and wrapped his arms around Doyle. The embrace was firm and reassuring. "Love you too," Angel murmured, into Cordy's hair. It was... weird, to say the least. Even as Doyle wrapped his -- Cordelia's -- arms around Angel in turn, he felt like an interloper in his own life. Like Angel was really talking to Cordelia and he just happened to be there to hear it. "It's gonna be okay," Angel said. "I know I keep saying that, but that's because it's true." He pulled back far enough so that he could look into Doyle's eyes. "What are you thinking?" Doyle shook his head, not wanting to project his own displacement onto Angel. "Can we move about? Walk somewhere? I... need to move." Maybe he could outrun this alienation to... everything he was feeling. "Sure. Whatever you want." Angel was watching him so closely that it was a little bit unnerving. "Building's mostly empty this time of night." Doyle pushed the covers back and swung his -- Cordelia's, and he was going to have to stop doing that every time he thought about himself and his actions -- legs out over the edge of the bed. "No one's going to bother me as long as I'm with the boss, anyway." He smiled at his friend. "Mr. Angel," he teased. "Watch it," Angel said warningly. "Yeah, yeah. I know. No mister." He stood, expecting to find his legs shaky, standing strange in this strange body, but while there was a bit of adjusting, he felt surprisingly... normal. He didn't know if that pleased or scared him. "No, I meant take it easy." Angel's hand was under his elbow, not really supporting him at all. Just there. "You feel okay?" "Ya mean other than the blind panic that I'm currently doing my best to ignore?" Doyle joked, though it was closer to the truth than he wanted to admit. "Yeah, I'm fine." "Good." They reached the doorway and paused, then Angel pointed to the right. "Let's go this way, it'll be quieter." "All right." As they walked, Doyle took inner stock, trying to figure out how it felt to be in Cordelia's body. The strangest and most alarming thing about it was that it didn't feel strange at all. He was in a body, and when he thought about raising his hand or taking a step, it obeyed him. It didn't feel like some place he shouldn't be; it felt like his own body, like he belonged in it. Which was so wrong on so many levels. Trying to push those thoughts away, he turned to Angel and rather desperately asked, "Talk to me?" "Hey..." The hand that had been hovering around his elbow made contact and squeezed gently. "Don't worry, it's gonna be fine. I promise." "Yeah. I know. Just..." Doyle gestured at himself. "Y'know." He chuckled half heartedly. "And I thought waking up with the demon face was freak inducing." "At least you recognize this one," Angel pointed out, letting go of Doyle's arm and stepping back half a step. "You have any idea how much you scared me, disappearing like that?" "Sorry," he said, feeling a flash of guilt, even though it hadn't been on purpose. "Wasn't my choice." Angel frowned. "Yeah. I know." He puts his hands in his pockets. "See, I'm really no good with this talking thing." He glanced at Doyle, then at the floor. "I was trying to say something nice. You know, tell you how much I... care about you." On impulse, Doyle reached out and laid a hand on Angel's arm. "I know. And thanks. I would've been scared too if you'd disappeared." He thought he felt a little shiver go through Angel, but the vampire just gave him a strained smile. "Come on. Might as well show you around the place, as long as you're here." "I'd like that. It'll be nice to see the place from eye level and not from..." Doyle gestured up at where he knew the hidden security camera was. They went down a short hallway to a set of double security doors, then through and into a longer hallway. "That was the, um, medical wing," Angel said, unnecessarily. "And the science wing is down that way." "Where Fred does things with M&Ms." "Right." Angel grinned and hunched his shoulders. "And, you know. Other stuff that I know nothing about." "She doesn't have lab mice in there intent on world domination, does she?" Doyle teased. Angel shrugged again. "Nah. I think she's training them to steal chocolate from gourmet shops actually." "Almost as diabolical." "Not if you want to take over the world." Angel seemed to reconsider this. "Well, maybe the world's women." "What, you think a man can't be a chocoholic?" Doyle asked, giving Angel an expression of mock disbelief. "Always thought it was a girl thing." Angel raised his eyebrows. "Are you trying to tell me that the way to your heart is through chocolate?" "Maybe. Among other things." Doyle looked down at himself, reminded again about his current location. "Though I s'pose at the moment you could still consider that a girl thing." "You're still a guy. You're just... a little misplaced." Doyle found himself truly smiling. "Wrong turn at Alberqueque?" Angel looked confused. "Um... more like L.A.." "You've never watched Bugs Bunny?" "I'm not really a cartoon kind of guy." Doyle thought it was possible that Angel was proud that he even knew who Bugs Bunny was. "We'll have to educate you one of these days. Sit down and watch a whole bunch of the old Looney Tunes." He grinned at Angel, as he made plans to culturally educate the vampire. "There'll be a test to see if you were paying attention. If you get all the questions right, I'll give you a reward." Angel just looked at him steadily. Doyle watched as the vampire's eyes moved across his face, and then down over his body. "If it wasn't for your eyes... and, you know, the way you talk..." And just like that Doyle was smack dab back in the middle of the whole 'trying not to panic' thing. He'd managed to forget about it for whole minutes that time. Wrapping his arms around himself -- and refusing to think of it as wrapping Cordelia's arms around her -- he asked, "Getting the sudden urge to buy me clothes?" Angel twitched like he was going to step closer but managed to stop himself. Like he wasn't sure he'd be welcome. "Um... no?" Like he wasn't sure what the right answer was. Doyle sighed and ran a hand through his hair, stopping mid-gesture at the strange feel of Cordelia's hair under his fingers instead. "This sucks, doesn't it?" "Yeah." Angel glanced around, then gestured off to the left. "Want to see Wes' office? Or I could show you the cafeteria." "Can I see your office?" Doyle heard himself ask before really thinking about it. "Sure." Angel led him a little bit further to an elevator, then pressed the up button. As an awkward silence fell between them, Doyle felt the need to try and explain. "That's where I felt most comfortable. Before. When I was in the computer." Angel nodded. "I get that." "It was familiar somehow. Maybe because it was the only place I could talk in real time." He shrugged. "Or maybe because it was you." They got into the elevator -- Angel waiting for Doyle to step on first -- and it started up, moving smoothly. Angel's continuing silence made Doyle want to keep talking, compulsively filling up the space with meaningless words. Instead, he held his tongue and focused on slowing his thoughts to something slightly less than warp speed. This was Angel. Talking never came easy to him. It didn't necessarily mean anything that he'd gone silent now. Or so Doyle kept telling himself. Angel's office was only a short distance from the elevator, and Doyle recognized it right off. Would have even if it hadn't had a little brass-plated sign on it with Angel's name. The door was wide open, the computer still humming. "Took off at a run, did ya?" Doyle asked, the thought providing a bit of reassurance. Angel cared. He knew that. "Once I figured out you probably weren't coming back, yeah." Angel went over to the desk and shut the computer down. "Well here I am," Doyle babbled and held out his arms to the sides. "In the flesh. Not my flesh, granted, but-" Angel just stood there and looked at him. With the desk in between them, it felt like they were separated by a lot more space than they actually were. After a moment, Doyle dropped his arms. "Right. Not my flesh. Big thing." Slowly, Angel came around from behind the desk, but he stopped with several feet still separating them. "You okay?" Doyle's arms crept around himself again. "You going to keep asking that until I say no?" He was feeling... he wasn't sure exactly. But it wasn't a happy, cheerful, right kind of of feeling. It was more an about to fall apart but not sure what would set him off feeling. Something about his expression must have clued Angel in, because the vampire closed the distance between them and pulled him into a loose embrace. Doyle rested against Angel's body, finding himself suddenly dangerously close to tears. "Sorry," he said, though he didn't try to pull away. "I just-" "Shhh," Angel said, his voice gentle. "It's okay. However you're feeling, you're entitled." "This is so fucked up," Doyle said, the tears sneaking into his voice despite his best efforts. "This isn't..." "I know. But it's gonna be okay." Angel's arms tightened around him, one hand sliding down to his lower back. 'Why do I feel further away from you now than when I was in a computer?' Doyle wanted to ask, but didn't. Because at that moment it wasn't true, even though he was sure it was going to be again as soon as Angel let go of him. One of Angel's arms pulled away, and he started to protest, but Angel just cupped his face in one big hand and lifted his chin until their eyes met. "It's gonna be okay. I can keep saying it as many times as you need me to." "Do you believe that really?" Doyle demanded. "That it's gonna be okay?" "Yeah. I do," Angel said. "This is just, you know... a speed bump. We're gonna get over it and then it's gonna be smooth sailing." "You're mixing your metaphors," Doyle pointed out, but found he did feel a bit better. "What are you going to do -- sue me?" There was a little smirk hovering at the corners of Angel's lips. "I'm not the one with an evil law firm." "That was my point." Angel's arm was still around his waist, holding him close. "Better?" he asked hopefully. "Yeah." Doyle leaned back in to rest his head on Angel's shoulder. The skittling fingers of panic retreated in the face of Angel's proximity. "It's okay." Angel let him snuggle in closer and ran a hand over his -- Cordy's -- hair soothingly. "I'm right here. Not going anywhere -- you're stuck with me." Sometimes, Doyle reflected, Angel knew exactly the right thing to say. "I'm going to hold ya to that, y'know." "Okay," Angel said agreeably. Doyle chuckled. "Thanks," he said softly. "Think they'll miss us if we just stay like this for a couple of hours?" Angel asked, relaxing into the embrace like he wouldn't mind doing just that. "Let 'em." After another minute or so, Angel shifted his weight slightly, then kissed Doyle's temple. "This is nice." "Yeah." Working on instinct, wanting more, Doyle lifted his face, closing the tiny distance to kiss Angel on the lips. Angel responded almost immediately, keeping the kiss gentle and soft, even though his hand on the small of Doyle's back pulled him closer at the same time. Doyle's entire body tingled from the kiss in a way that was utterly familiar and at the same time completely alien. But he didn't want to think about that, didn't want to think about who Angel was responding to. He just wanted to lose himself in the kiss. It wasn't difficult to do. Angel's mouth opened slightly, his tongue flicking out across Doyle's lower lip in a shivery-good sort of way that made him sigh. When he finally pulled back a little, Doyle was breathing hard and he couldn't stop the smile from spreading over his face. "This part isn't so bad." Angel moved in and kissed him again, just slightly more possessively this time. Doyle made a sound of pleasure in the back of his throat, pressing his body closer. It was surprisingly easy to lose himself in the moment. Angel's hand slid lower, down to cup Doyle's ass, and Doyle felt Angel start to harden against his thigh. Instantly, as if realizing it at the same moment Doyle did, Angel let go of him, backing away from him with an expression of horror on his face. "We shouldn't..." Angel's brow was creased, and Doyle thought his hand might have been shaking. "We can't do this." The realisation of what they were doing -- and whose body Doyle was doing it in -- hit Doyle anew. Feeling sick and set adrift, he pulled further away, moving to sink down numbly on the edge of the couch along the far wall of Angel's office. "What are we going to do?" he asked, burying his head in his hands. "We're going to have Wes get you out of there and back into your own body where you belong," Angel said. "Yeah, but what do we do in the meantime?" Doyle looked up and met Angel's gaze. Angel came over, took Doyle's hand, and pulled him to his feet. "There is no meantime, because we're fixing this now. Tonight." Doyle stared at him. "Angel, this- You can't-" But Angel was already towing him -- carefully, but definitely towing -- through the doorway and into the hall. "Don't worry. We're going to get this straightened out." Doyle dug his heels in. "Angel, you can't expect Wesley to be able to fix this just like that." "He'd better be able to," Angel said, stopping, but tense, like it was all he could do to force himself to hold still. "He's the one who fucked this up." Anger on Wesley's behalf surged through Doyle at that. He pulled free of Angel's grip and crossed his arms over his chest -- noticing but ignoring that there was much more chest than he was used to -- as he glared at the vampire. "And we're not going anywhere near Wesley while you have that attitude. God, are you trying to destroy the man?" "No, I'm trying to keep him from destroying the rest of us." Angel glared back at him, and Doyle recognized the expression as the one Angel used to direct at Cordy when he was pissed off. "You can glare at me all ya want -- it never worked against Cordelia; it ain't going to work with me either," Doyle said, not backing down. "And we're not going anywhere until you've got me convinced you're not going to be taking this all out on Wesley." "Believe me, other than getting him to take care of this mess, Wesley's not high on the list of things I'm thinking about right now." Angel started to pace back and forth. "Well, you'd better make him so, if you don't want to undo all the good you did last night." Angel stopped. Ran a hand through his hair, which promptly stood up and took notice. Which only made the vampire look more harried than he obviously was. "Okay. Okay, you're right. Just... can we *please* get back down there and see if we can do something about this?" "Sure," Doyle said, still not backing down an inch. "Once I'm convinced that you're not going to lash out at Wesley." "What do you want? A contract signed in blood?" "Maybe." He sighed, running a hand through his own hair. "It's not his fault, Angel." "Don't know whose else it would be," Angel muttered darkly. "How 'bout no one's?" Doyle suggested, exasperated. "Christ, it's no wonder Wesley is so convinced he's not worth anything if this is an example of your support." "He took my *son*," Angel said, his eyes flashing with anger. "There are times when it doesn't matter to me that it was a mistake, that it wasn't his 'fault.'" Behind Angel, the elevator doors opened just as the vampire said, "How the fuck am I supposed to forgive him for messing up something so important?" Wesley stepped into the hallway, the expression on his face telling Doyle very clearly that he'd overheard the last part of Angel's rant and applied it to the current situation. "I thought you might be here," Wesley said, his voice carefully modulated, revealing no emotion. "We're ready to try something, if you're feeling up to it." Ah hell. Could this get any more fucked up? Well yes, Doyle decided; Wesley could have heard the first part of Angel's declaration as well. Doing his best at damage control, Doyle turned to Wesley, giving the man what he was hoping was a reassuring and understanding smile. "Sure. I'm not worried; I'm sure you'll get this straightened out and everybody where they're supposed to be. Don't stress over it, okay?" Wesley nodded; it was clear from the look on his face that he was keeping himself as removed from his emotions as possible. "All right. As soon as you're ready..." Doyle shot his best "fix it" glare at Angel. He wasn't fully confident it was going to have any effect, but that was about all he could do with Wesley standing right there. Angel, at least, had the grace to look ashamed. "Look, Wes, that wasn't... um, I wasn't talking about what it probably sounded like I was talking about." "No, of course you weren't," Wesley said smoothly. Oh yeah. Big time hurting going on there -- Doyle recognised the putting up a front when he saw it; he'd done it enough himself. Wordlessly he reached out and clasped Wesley's arm for a moment, hoping the gesture would get through where words were obviously not. Wesley's expression softened, and he patted Doyle's hand where it rested on his arm. "Are you all right? You're dealing with the... temporary setback?" "Yeah." Doyle found a smile to give Wesley. "Kinda surreal, but when isn't my life?" "Well I wouldn't blame you if you didn't believe me at this point, but we *are* going to take care of this." Wesley looked at him seriously. "The spell that we were going to use to get you out of the computer is very adaptable -- there's no reason to believe it won't work just as well to get you out of Cordelia." Doyle nodded and walked with Wesley as they all headed back to the elevator. "Makes sense. And I do believe you." He frowned. "What happens to Cordelia's body?" "It will go back to the same state it's been in -- a sort of suspended animation." Wesley hesitated, waiting for Angel to enter the elevator. "And you're sure this is gonna work?" Angel asked. "I feel confident that it will, yes." "There's no guarantees, I get that," Doyle put in, not wanting Wesley to feel he was painted into a corner. Wesley took a deep breath and let it out slowly, obviously trying to be subtle about it, then said, "I'm very sorry this happened." "I know." Doyle smiled at him. "Considering it was a mistake like this that brought me back at all in the first place, can't really find it in me to get too upset about it, y'know?" Angel shifted uncomfortably next to them as the elevator came to a halt. "I just want him out of there," he said, looking at Wes. "It's... not good." "I know," Wesley said. "I couldn't agree with you more, in fact. But we'll get it taken care of." "Everything's an adventure," Doyle put in, not really comfortable with the serious tone, especially as they were beginning to talk like he wasn't there. "Okay, this is a bit more adventurous than I'd ever expected..." "I can't imagine most people would expect getting to spend any time at all in the opposite... er... " Wesley floundered as he recognized the double entendre. "Well. Yes." Doyle grinned. "I've been doing my best to avoid that certain turn of phrase, considering how much time I spent chatting up Cordelia before. But yes, it had passed through my mind." They reached the medical wing, and Angel held the door open for Doyle and Wesley to pass through. "Let's focus a little more on getting this fixed and a little less on... words, and stuff. Okay?" There was something in Angel's tone that made it clear how anxious he was to get this over with. "He's not good with words," Doyle said to Wesley, as if sharing a state secret. Wesley glanced at Doyle in alarm, whatever comfort level he'd regained with Angel obviously shot to hell now. "I wouldn't say that," Wes said stiffly. Doyle frowned, trying to figure out what had just set Wesley off about his last statement. But he doggedly continued on as if Wesley hadn't just shut down. "S'alright. I can say it by myself." He turned to Angel and solemnly said, "Hate to break it to you, my friend, but you're not good with words." Angel was about as tense as Wesley, and that was saying something. "Yeah, I know." Great. Now he had them both all but sulking. "Though I'm starting to wonder if I'm not good with words either. Even if I do use a lot more than you do." "That's because you don't know when to shut up," Angel said, but there was a little smile there, maybe. The vampire glanced at Wes as if for confirmation, then herded Doyle back into the room he'd woken up in. "Hey, I didn't have a mouth for years -- I have lots of talking to make up for. Of course I can't shut up." Doyle realised that the mock babbling had crossed the line into real babbling about the same time he crossed back into this room. He was nervous, and that always seemed to translate into words pouring out of his mouth with very little control on his part. Angel seemed to have gotten over -- or at least pushed aside -- his own issues, and as Wesley went to have a brief conference with the spellcasters, he walked Doyle over to the bed and sat him down. "You look like you're getting that freaky feeling again." "That would probably be because I am getting that freaky feeling again." Doyle fidgeted, unable to sit still. "Having a spell done on you when you don't know about it is one thing; sitting and letting it be done is something else entirely." "I get that." Angel perched on the edge of the bed next to him and took his hand, turning it and tracing the lines on his palm. That did have an immediate effect of calming Doyle some. "If this doesn't work-" "Don't say that," Angel said quickly, cutting him off. "Don't even think it. I know I've said some things, but... Wes is gonna pull this off, I know he is. " "If it doesn't," Doyle persisted, feeling it was important to get this out. "If something goes wrong, don't blame Wesley. He'll be too busy doing that himself, and it won't be his fault regardless." Angel went back to tracing the lines on his palm. "I know. I'll... I'll try." "Try real hard." If he kept focusing on making sure things didn't degenerate any further, he wouldn't have to think about how crazy scared he was becoming. "I will. Hey, look at me a minute, would ya?" Angel's eyes were soft even in the bright sterile lighting. "It's gonna be okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Well, anything *else," he amended. Even though Doyle knew there was no way Angel could promise that, the words still helped. "I don't know how you do that." Angel stiffened slightly at the words, but just squeezed Doyle's hand. "It'll be okay," he said again, as Wesley cleared his throat discreetly. "When you say it, I believe it," Doyle told him, wanting to make it clear what he'd meant. "I don't know how you do that -- make me feel better with a simple promise." Angel relaxed and leaned in closer. "Love you," he said, then looked at Wes. "We good to go?" Wesley nodded. "Doyle, you'll want to, er, lie down, please." "Right." Doyle took a deep breath and swung his legs up on the bed, lying down in the same position he'd awoken in. "Should I be doing anything else?" "Try to relax?" Wesley asked, as if he knew that probably wasn't a realistic request. "Close your eyes, take deep breaths. That sort of thing." "Right." Relax, he thought. Right. He felt Angel's fingertips brush against his cheek lightly as Wes said something to the spellcasters and they began to speak some words in Latin. Doyle had one moment to feel absolutely terrified, and then everything went black. Cordy's body went limp, all the tension going out of it at once, and Angel shot Wesley a look of concern. Was that supposed to happen? "It's all right," Wesley said softly, his eyes drifting from Cordelia's still form to glance at Angel. "That's Doyle leaving her body. It's supposed to happen." Angel nodded. "So what happens now?" he asked quietly. "His own body shows up *poof?*" "Not so much *poof* as slow materialization out of the ether fueled by magic." Wesley took a deep breath and looked down at the book in his hands. "That's the part where I come in." Angel blinked. "What do you mean, where you come in?" He noticed Lorne's absence for the first time. "And, um... where'd Lorne go?" "I'm casting the spell that will create -- or recreate I suppose is the more accurate term -- Doyle's body." Wesley glanced up at Angel quickly, then returned his attention to his book. "And I sent Lorne to get something we might need after the spell's complete." "Okay." Angel figured maybe he should stop talking and distracting Wesley, just in case. He moved over closer to the wall, staying near the head of Cordy's bed, and watched. Wesley took another breath, seeming to center himself, then turned toward the far corner of the room. For the first time Angel noticed there were protective and mystic markings already laid out on the floor. Chanting words in an ancient language that sounded familiar -- it had kind of a sing-song rhythm to it, kind of pretty actually -- Wesley moved forward until he was standing on the edge of the space so marked off. He paused and held out his hand and one of the hired spellcasters gave him a dagger. Angel told himself he shouldn't have been surprised that blood-letting would be part of the spell -- not considering what they were trying to accomplish. Still, he found himself watching Wesley with more nervousness than he would have anticipated. Wes set the tip of the dagger against the skin of his palm. Just as he started to press down, a brilliant light flared into existence over the bed, like a star appearing and going nova all at the same time. Everyone turned to look and as the light dimmed enough for them to see, there was a very familiar voice coming out of the middle. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Cordelia's voice said, very clearly. Angel stared. They all did. Gradually, the light subsided enough for them to make out a very familiar form glowing with an inner radiance. Cordelia. Floating several feet above her body. Angel couldn't do anything. Couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Luckily, talking had never been a problem for Cordelia. Looking straight at Wesley, she said, "You *so* don't want to do that." Wesley twitched. "It's necessary," he said. "You do realize that you're talking to Cordelia Chase, Higher Being, right?" Cordy looked directly at Angel for the first time, and his heart leapt into his throat. "Angel, take that away from him before he does something he's gonna regret." Numbly, his body responding to her request without conscious thought, Angel took the needed steps over to Wesley's side and reached for the knife, taking it carefully from Wes' hand. "Good." Cordy turned her attention to Wesley again. "You know there are consequences to that kind of magick. Big, bad consequences." "It was the only way," Wesley replied softly, meeting her eyes squarely. "Well lucky for you, you're wrong. There's another way." Angel finally managed to pull himself together enough to say something. "Okay, will someone please tell me what's going on?" Wesley remained stubbornly silent. "Um, *hello*? Dark magick has consequences. You don't just magick someone's body back into existence without paying a really big price." Angel looked from Cordy to Wesley, then back again. "You mean, he was going to...?" "Trade in a big piece of his soul in exchange for Doyle's body? Uh-huh. Not to mention that he sent Lorne off on a wild goose chase because he knew Lorne would be able to tell what he was doing." Cordy paused. "Actually, hang on. There's somebody else who should be here for this conversation." There was another surge of light and when it faded, Doyle was standing beside Cordelia, his familiar features making Angel's heart ache. Doyle blinked dazedly. "What the-" He turned enough to see Cordelia and stilled for a long moment before a smile spread across his face. "I'd make some cheesy crack about pretty as an angel but I suspect that would be a bit too close to the truth for comfort." "Hi, Doyle," Cordy said, with an answering smile that Angel almost would have called wistful. "I figured you wouldn't want to miss this conversation. I wanted..." She looked at Wesley again. "I know what you've been planning, and I need you to know that I'm not coming back." Wesley shook his head in denial. "No. We'll get you back, I promise. It's just a matter of finding the right spell." But Doyle was looking at Cordelia with that uncanny wisdom that had always seemed a part of him. "It's not a matter of not being able to come back," he said softly, "it's a matter of not wanting to. From seer to Power, is that it, Princess?" Cordy's smile had definitely faded into wistful now. "Pretty much," she said, her eyes going from Doyle to Angel. "There's stuff that needs to be done, and... I can do it from here. If I come back..." If he'd been alive, Angel would have said that it felt like all the air went out of the room. "...it's a lot harder. All those people..." Cordelia shook her head slightly. "It's not even like there's a choice to make. This is the right thing for me to do. But you," she said to Doyle, "you have a choice." "Me?" "Well it's not like I'm talking to Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee," Cordelia said, gesturing at the two spellcasters at the side of the room. "Yes, you. You can go back if you want to. Or not. It's totally up to you." Angel's chest felt tight. Doyle looked at him, then back to Cordelia. "If I don't go back, what happens?" he asked. "I'm not psychic," Cordelia said. "But if you *do* go back, you're kind of stuck with the visions again." "Don't do it because of that," Angel told Doyle quickly, forcing the words out because it was the right thing to say. "Plus there's kind of a catch," Cordelia said. Doyle frowned. "What's the catch?" "That body of mine that you were trying on for size earlier? It's pretty much the only one available." Cordy actually sounded apologetic. Doyle stared at her, then glanced down where she had gestured at her body lying on the bed below them. "So if I go back, I go back as you?" "That's the deal." Cordelia shrugged. "And technically, I'm not even supposed to be here. I'm bending the rules because, you know..." She was looking right at Angel, and all Angel could think was that he was glad it wasn't his decision, because he was sure he'd make the wrong one. "You didn't trust us to make the right decision," Doyle finished, uncannily echoing Angel's thoughts. He smiled at Cordelia. "That's my Princess, always bending the rules." "Well, not like I didn't have good reason to think that," Cordy said pointedly in Wesley's direction, at which point Angel realized he was still holding the knife in his hand. Doyle followed the direction of her gaze and frowned as he looked at Wesley. "Going to do something stupid, was he?" Wesley flushed, but remained silent. "Maybe not so much stupid as stupidly brave," Cordelia said, and then, more gently, "Seriously, Wes? It's time to let it go. You're better than this." Angel caught the barest glimpse of extreme emotional pain flash across Wesley's face before it resumed its almost mask-like blankness. "I'm doing the best that I can," Wesley responded softly, not meeting Cordelia's eyes. "News flash: That's good enough." Cordy was watching Wesley steadily. "You're the only one who expects you to be perfect. And if anyone else did, that'd pretty much make them an asshole." She shot a look of warning at Angel, who didn't know which of the three of them he should be looking at. Cordy, who was already lost? Doyle, who might be any minute, if he didn't decide to come back? Or Wesley, who despite the current situation might actually be further away from Angel than the other two? He found himself looking at Doyle, trying desperately not to let the longing he was feeling show on his face. Doyle looked back at him, eyes troubled, expression unreadable, though Angel wondered if he just didn't want to read it. Then Doyle turned back to Cordelia, a hint of his usual smile on his face. "I guess if I got used to being all spiky and green, I can get used to being a girl." "You're sure?" Cordy asked. "Because changing your mind's not really gonna be an option." Doyle glanced at Angel again. "Someone's gotta look after them." "Okay. Just remember, you asked for this." Cordy started to reach out toward Doyle with one hand, then paused. "And I'll hear you if you bad-mouth me, so watch it." "Cordelia?" Doyle said as he reached out a hand towards hers. "Thanks." Cordy nodded. "Don't forget I'm gonna be keeping an eye on you." She glanced at each of them in turn, her gaze lingering on Angel the longest. "This is a fresh start, you know? So don't screw it up." Her fingertips touched Doyle's. The light that had been clinging to Doyle swelled up and became blinding; Angel stared as long as he could before its brilliance forced him to look away. When he turned back, blinking away spots, Doyle was gone. "Don't worry," Cordy said, looking down at the solid version of herself lying on the bed but obviously talking to all of them. "It gets better." And vanished. Angel stared at Cordy's -- now Doyle's -- still form, silently willing him to open his eyes. "Is he-" Wesley began, taking a step closer, then stopping. Telling himself that after everything they'd been through, this *had* to turn out okay, Angel reached out a tentative hand and touched Doyle's shoulder. Doyle's eyes flickered, then opened. The sense of relief that Angel felt was so great that the knife slipped from his grip, clattering onto the tile floor and bouncing under the bed. "Doyle?" "Yeah." He -- no matter the body Doyle was wearing, Angel would always think of him as he -- smiled. "In the flesh. Guess we'll just have to get used to that." Angel nodded, wondering if that was even possible, but willing to try. "You're sure? That this is what you wanted?" "I'm sure," Doyle said firmly. He pulled himself into a sitting position. "You're stuck with me." "I wouldn't put it that way," Angel said. He was feeling such a mixture of relief and guilt that he couldn't have decided which emotion was winning out. "Well you are. You'll just have to get used to that too." Doyle reached out and took Angel's hand where it rested on the bed beside him. This kind of overload usually sent Angel running for the quiet solitude of his office, or the hotel. He had to remind himself that this wasn't an option now -- that he had Doyle to look after. But he didn't know what to say. Doyle chuckled. "Stop looking so freaked. I'm not expecting huge soliloquies. Relax." Angel tried to let some of the tension out of his frame. "I just want to get out of here." "Yeah, okay." Doyle made to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, then paused. "Er... s'pose I should ask if you want company..." "No." Angel blinked, then clarified. "I mean, no, that's not something you need to ask." Doyle nodded. After a second he asked, "So that means you *do* want company?" "If it's you, yeah." Even this wasn't *completely* true, but Angel figured Doyle had become his responsibility from the second he'd said 'yes' to Cordy's proposal. And it wasn't so much that he didn't want Doyle around as it was he was so used to being alone. "Besides, I've got some, um, clothes. That were hers." "Yeah." Doyle looked down at himself with a rueful grin. "Guess I gotta get used to changing without thinking I'm sneaking a peak at something I shouldn't, huh?" Angel kind of figured that some major break-down on Doyle's part was waiting just around the bend -- it probably just hadn't really sunk in yet. "You'll get used to it," he said gruffly, hoping that he sounded convincing. "Wes? You need us for anything else, or do you think we can get out of here?" Wesley, who seemed to have been staring at them without seeing, shook himself and seemed to focus. "No, there's nothing I need to do. Feel free to go." "Okay. You know where to find me. Um... us." Angel hesitated then, because he thought Doyle would want him to, said, "You did good. We should talk about, you know, what you were planning to do. Maybe tomorrow?" Wesley grimaced, but nodded. "You and I will be having a talk about that too," Doyle put in with more animation. Then softer, "But thank you." Pretty much desperate at that point to get away from everything and -- almost -- everyone, Angel guided Doyle out through the doorway. The drive to the hotel passed mostly in silence. Doyle spent his time watching the scenery go by, relishing being in the world again, trying to get used to being alive again, to being in this body that was now his. He wondered idly if he should start thinking of himself as *her*, considering, but he wasn't quite ready to take that mental step. Whatever body he was in, he was still Alan Francis Doyle, and that didn't change just because his plumbing had. They pulled up outside a large building, and Angel put the shiny new car into park and shut it off, turning to look at him. "This is it." "Big place," Doyle said, getting out of the car and staring at the hotel. "And you live here all alone?" "Yeah. Fred stayed here for a while, but she's got her own place now." Angel sounded distracted, but he started to lead the way through a doorway in a large wall, which opened into a small patio-type area, part of which was covered with a roof. "Nice," Doyle murmured, turning around and taking in the space. "Ya ever thought of planting some green stuff?" "Actually, I kind of... took them out. The plants, I mean." Sensing a story, Doyle gave Angel a questioning look. "Bad memories," Angel said shortly, and continued through the courtyard and to a door that led into the hotel. Doyle followed, moving until he was close enough to brush a hand against Angel's back. "You've too many of those," he said softly. Angel hesitated, and for a second or two Doyle thought the vampire was maybe going to open up and share, but the moment passed. Inside the hotel, Angel started down some stairs into a lobby-type area, then stopped and turned to look at Doyle. "Here it is. Home sweet... home." Doyle again closed the distance between them, wondering if Angel knew he was all but running away from him. "Show me around?" "There's, um..." Angel glanced around, "not really a lot to see. Office through there, reception desk... couch..." "How 'bout your room?" "That's upstairs." Angel's shoulders were slumped, making him look shorter than he really was. "Do you... wanna see it?" "Only if you want to show it to me," Doyle said, hating the way Angel seemed to be drawing in on himself, and not wanting to push any more than absolutely necessary -- at least not right then. Angel's expression was so closed that it was hard to say whether he was being honest or not. "Um, sure. There's another room up there too. Well, a lot of rooms actually, but, you know... one that she used for a little while." "Angel, do you want me here?" "What?" Angel looked so startled that under normal circumstances it would have been comical. "Doyle, I..." The vampire rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I want you here. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be, you know..." "All broody and anti-social?" Doyle asked, smiling slightly. "Yeah. That." Angel smiled a little bit in return. "Come on, I'll show you the upstairs." Doyle fell into step with the vampire as they headed their way up the winding staircase. "Looks like it was a pretty fancy place in its day." Angel nodded. "Yeah, it was nice. I was here. In the 50s." He kept looking at Doyle, quick little glances. "This is pretty surreal, isn't it?" Doyle asked, gesturing at his body, deciding to address the surreptitious glances. "Depends on how you look at it." Angel shrugged. "I mean, considering how last time she -- her body -- was here, it wasn't really her either." "Least you know it's me this time." He watched Angel for a long moment. "You going to be able to handle this?" Angel stopped at the top of the stairs. "I... I don't know. I want to be able to tell you that I will, but..." He reached out and touched Doyle's shoulder. "What about you? You're the one who's going to have to deal with... all the... female... parts." "I'm trying not to think about it too much," Doyle answered truthfully. "Take it all one freak out at a time." "You tired? Hungry?" Doyle took inner stock. "Hungry maybe?" he ventured, not at all sure. "We should think about ordering something pretty soon then." Angel looked worried. "I should have stopped on the way here. Not like I have any, you know, actual food around." "S'okay," Doyle said with a shrug. "I won't starve if I don't get anything before morning." "Maybe not, but since..." Angel stopped himself, then glanced up at Doyle almost shyly. "I want to take care of you." Doyle smiled at that, especially since his own motivations were so similar. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, not wanting to try without first gaining permission. "Are... you sure you're up for it?" "It's just a kiss, Angel. Not a... a twenty-one gun salute or anything." Angel reached for Doyle's hand, tilting his head slightly to one side, his eyes on Doyle's lips. "I want to do a lot more than kiss you," he said, his voice low. "When you're ready." A thrill of anticipation at the words ran through Doyle, and he grinned. "Good, cause I want you to do a lot more than just kiss me. But I'll settle for a kiss right this second." Angel's mouth on his felt even better than he'd remembered. After the briefest of kisses, Angel pulled back just far enough to whisper, "This okay?" "Yeah," Doyle replied, leaning in to kiss Angel again. There wasn't any hesitation now -- Angel kissed like somebody who knew what he wanted. His lips were cool and firm, and his arms wrapped around Doyle, holding onto him tightly. Doyle's doubts about whether he was wanted there melted under the heat of the kiss. This time, Angel didn't pull back until Doyle was nearly breathless. The vampire slid a hand into Doyle's hair, his thumb brushing over Doyle's temple gently. "I think I'm supposed to be showing you my room," he said. "Yeah," Doyle said again, with a smile. "Suddenly got a strong desire to see that. With somewhere to sit down. Or... lie down." Angel's fingers entwined with Doyle's, and he started to lead him down the hallway. "Anything you want," Angel said. "Christ, you deserve it." "It's been a rocky path for both of us." Doyle squeezed the hand in his, letting Angel guide him down the hallway. "I think we both deserve some of what we want." Angel faltered just the tiniest bit, then continued. "I don't think I'm good at that." "Tell ya what. I'll make you a deal -- you do what you can to get me what I want, and I'll work on getting you what you want." "What about when what you want isn't good for you?" Doyle lifted an eyebrow. "You don't think I know what is and isn't good for me?" Angel paused in front of a door, then pushed it open, but didn't go through. "I... don't think people always know, no," he said, as if he was choosing his words carefully. "You think you're bad for me?" Doyle asked softly, seeing where Angel's thoughts were going. Angel snorted softly. "I'm bad for everyone." Doyle reached up and slid a hand behind Angel's neck, pulling him in for another kiss. "Not for me." He both heard and felt the little sound that Angel made in the back of his throat -- something like denial. "What if this doesn't work?" Angel asked. "I don't want you to get hurt." Doyle pulled back enough to meet Angel's gaze, turning serious. "There's no guarantees in life -- you should know that better than most. But if you don't take the chances then you're not living." He grinned. "This conversation seems a bit familiar -- didn't I tell you pretty much the same thing when we first met?" "I'm not the same person I was then," Angel said, looking troubled. "Yeah? I think I win the not being the same person lottery hands down." "Hands and lots of other things," Angel said quietly, his eyes traveling down Doyle's body. "But that's not what I meant." "I know." He slid his arms around Angel's neck. "But you haven't changed in the important ways. Not negatively changed." "It's really annoying when you're so sure of yourself, you know that, don't you?" "There's a lot of things I'm not sure of," Doyle said, his smile faltering as his thoughts quite naturally turned to some of those things. "But you? Yeah, I'm sure." "Come on," Angel said, stepping away from Doyle's embrace and taking his hand. "Come in and sit down or something. It's been a long day." They moved further into the room, which was more like a suite, and Angel dropped Doyle's hand to go and get a phone. "You want pizza? Chinese? Um... there've gotta be other places around here, I just don't know what." "Pizza's fine," Doyle replied, walking through the place, noticing the touches, the items that marked the space as Angel's own. There weren't many, and Doyle wondered if that had to do with the missing Connor, if anything that even remotely reminded Angel of his son had been banished from his presence. Like the garden downstairs. He'd just picked up a book that had been sitting open on the table and realized that there was a thin film of dust across the pages, when he felt Angel's arm slide around his waist from behind. "You okay?" Angel asked, with his lips close to Doyle's ear. "Yeah," he replied, pushing aside his concerns for now and concentrating on the warmth created by Angel reaching out to him like this. "Better now." Angel nuzzled his hair and held him tighter. "Whatever you need... I want to give it to you." This felt good. Safe. Right. "Say things like that and my mind gets all... imaginative." Doyle didn't miss the very slight tension this seemed to cause in Angel's embrace, but the vampire just chuckled slightly. "What was that word we were using for you before? Incorrigible?" "That sounds familiar." "What's it like?" Angel asked, his thumb moving back and forth distractingly across Doyle's stomach. "I mean... how's it different?" "Being in this body?" "Yeah. Unless you don't want to talk about it." Doyle considered the question, leaning back against Angel and shifting against him absently as he spoke. "It feels kinda the same... I mean turned on is turned on. Things still tingle and all. Just more... diffuse." Angel's other hand moved down to rub the front of Doyle's thigh. "You smell good," he said in a low voice. "Different from Cordy." "Do I?" Doyle's attention was becoming fixed on Angel's touch. "What do I smell like?" "Hmm." Angel's lips brushed against Doyle's ear, making him shiver. "Kinda... spicy. Fresh." "Did I smell like this before?" Angel paused as if to think about it, then traced the delicate edge of Doyle's ear with his tongue. "I think so. Pretty much." "Mm, that's good." Doyle was beginning to lose the thread of the conversation. "Yeah," Angel agreed, nibbling on Doyle's earlobe while his hand slowly pushed up the shirt Doyle was wearing and then just rested on his bare skin. "You're so warm..." Doyle chuckled, the sound coming out breathy and turned on. "I'm quite willing to warm you up anytime." Angel turned Doyle's face to meet his and kissed him. Turning more fully in Angel's arms, Doyle wrapped his own around Angel's neck and pressed up against him as their kiss deepened. This was good. This was definitely worth coming back for. No matter the body. Angel's hands slid down to Doyle's backside, pulling him in closer and leaving no question as to how into this Angel actually was. That was... strange. If for no other reason than he would have predicted it would have felt stranger. But whatever force had put him in this body had seemed to also ensure he received all the right instincts. It was different, but good. Doyle wanted more. "Bedroom?" he suggested between kisses. Not very eloquent, but he thought at this particular moment it was all the eloquence he needed. Angel moved his hands up to cradle Doyle's face, kissing him more gently. "Are you sure?" "That's why I said it." Doyle grinned and kissed Angel again. "You're going to have to learn to take me at my word." "I know. I just..." Angel's eyes searched his. "If I do anything that you don't want me to do, you'll tell me?" "Have you ever known me to keep my mouth shut?" Doyle teased, then sobering, added, "That goes both ways you know." "I'd say okay, but... I don't think there's anything you could do that I wouldn't want." Angel led Doyle through the suite and over to the side of the bed. "Could say the same." Doyle smiled at him. "Though admittedly there's a bit of mystery to some things at the moment, considering." Angel's hand was back at Doyle's waist, stroking lightly over the strip of exposed skin there. "You could take this off," he suggested, fiddling with the bottom hem of the shirt. "We could, you know... do a little exploring?" Doyle shivered at the light touch. "Exploring sounds good," he said, raising his arms and letting Angel pull the top off over his head. Angel's lips were cool against his collarbone, leaving tiny damp spots in the wake of his kisses. The tip of one finger traced teasing circles just around Doyle's nipple, never quite touching it. Doyle's skin felt hypersensitive, every touch of Angel's lips sending tingles through his entire body, and he found himself holding his breath waiting for the touch of his fingers to become more intimate. When Angel's fingertip finally brushed over his nipple, Doyle gasped. "Tell me how it feels," Angel said. "Different," Doyle said, gasping again as Angel's finger continued to lightly touch him there. "Good. Way more sensitive than I expected..." He squirmed where he sat, his hips moving automatically with the rhythm of Angel's touches. "More." "Lie back," Angel said, pushing him gently down onto the bed and running a hand up his inner thigh, but stopping before he got close enough to ease the generalized ache Doyle was feeling. "Just let me..." Angel leaned in and flicked his tongue over the nipple he'd been teasing. "Oh god..." Doyle moaned, arching up against Angel as the vampire closed his mouth over the peak. Each movement of Angel's mouth sent bursts of sensation through him, all of them centering between his legs. His reactions just seemed to spur Angel on to try to drive him even crazier. "Taste so good," Angel muttered against Doyle's skin. "*God* I want you." "Good," Doyle said breathlessly, squirming under Angel's attentions, unable to keep still in the face of the feelings running through him. "I want you too. More. Now." Angel groaned in what might have been frustration and struggled with the front of Doyle's cotton slacks, finally managing to open them and slip his hand inside between the two layers of fabric. Doyle pushed up into the pressure of Angel's fingers against him. But it still wasn't enough. "More," he demanded again. "Want you touching me." After a moment's hesitation, Angel seemed to make up his mind -- or maybe lose it completely. He quickly stripped Doyle of his pants, leaving him naked on the bed, then parted his thighs and slid down between them. Doyle didn't look down, not quite ready to linger his sight on this new body of his, but that didn't stop him from arching up to meet Angel, his breath catching at that first intimate touch. Angel's tongue flickered over a spot so sensitive that Doyle couldn't keep from crying out, so sensitive that it made it easy to forget everything and just *feel.* Cool, strong hands pushed his thighs further apart, opening him, and then in addition to Angel's tongue there were fingers playing over him. It was different than anything Doyle had felt before, but Doyle was quickly losing himself. This all might have been new to him from this vantage point, but Angel'd had 200 plus years to learn what to do, and Doyle was more than content to leave himself in the vampire's hands. Literally. He writhed on the bed, trying to press himself closer to Angel, moaning as the aching sensations continued to build in intensity under Angel's attentions. Angel seemed determined to torture Doyle -- every time the speed and amount of pressure took him to the edge, the vampire would back off just slightly. He could feel wetness between his legs, and his thighs trembled when the index finger Angel had been teasing him with suddenly slid inside of him. Doyle heard someone whimpering and was so caught up in what Angel was doing to him that it took far too long to realise it was his own voice. He could feel his body tensing, Angel winding him tighter and tighter. Two more fingers were pushed inside him, not thrusting, just filling the aching place in a way that made him rock his hips in an attempt to get them deeper. It was all instinct, but at that particular moment Doyle was too lost in what was happening to think beyond instinct. "More," he breathed, demanded. Angel moved up for a kiss, his thumb shifting to take the place of his tongue while his fingers continued to rub and press up inside Doyle. "Just let go," Angel said. "I want to feel you." Doyle could feel it building, could feel his body striving for just that little bit more that would... "Oh god," Doyle gasped, his hands tightening on Angel's shoulders as the intensity peaked and washed over him in a series of full body shivers of pleasure. "Love you," Angel murmured into his ear, just holding him, letting the waves of his orgasm flow through him and gradually die down into a sort of mellow contentment. "Mm," was all Doyle was able to manage right then, shifting only enough to fully wrap his arms around Angel and pull him closer. Angel kissed him tenderly, slowly. "Can't believe you're really here. God, you're so warm..." The vampire's mouth trailed down across Doyle's throat, his tongue flicking across the skin there, tasting him. "Mmm..." Doyle stirred and tilted his head back to give Angel better access. He still felt like he was basking, but Angel's touch seemed to be reviving him far faster than he'd ever have predicted. "How do I taste?" "Incredible," Angel said, like a breath across his skin, giving him goosebumps. "Amazing. Wonderful." His tongue swept across Doyle's skin again. "Did I say incredible?" Doyle chuckled. "You might have mentioned it." He stretched, moving languorously against Angel. "You're still dressed." Angel shifted position and kissed him again instead of answering. Doyle followed Angel's movements, keeping himself pressed up against the vampire. "Going to be kinda difficult to continue this to the logical conclusion with your pants in the way." "I'm okay," Angel said. "I don't need a... um, conclusion." "Maybe I need you to have a.. 'conclusion'," Doyle responded. "There's still some experimenting that we haven't got to yet." "It's not... I don't want to..." Angel shifted away slightly, looking supremely uncomfortable. "Just... let's give it a little time. Okay?" Now Doyle frowned. "You don't want me to touch you?" he asked, suddenly wondering how much of what had just happened had been a charity case. "I didn't say that." "Then...?" "It's not you," Angel said, his eyes making it very clear that it was in fact the exact opposite. "I want you. I'm just not sure it's a good idea for us to... you know." Doyle opened his mouth to argue the point, but changed tactics before the first word. "Fine. Maybe that certain bit of experimentation can wait. But don't see why I can't do for you what you just did for me." Angel relaxed, then reached for Doyle's hand and guided it down to his own cloth-covered erection, pressing into the touch with a soft groan of relief. "You could do this?" Angel suggested. "Please?" "Oh yeah." Doyle grinned as he tightened his grip. "Think I can remember how." Angel groaned again, his hips moving restlessly. "Yeah. Doesn't feel like you've forgotten." "Still would be better without the pants, y'know." "Guess maybe it'd be okay to lose them," Angel said, without doing anything about the situation. "Going to make me do all the work, I see." Doyle shifted, pushing Angel over onto his back and shifting down the bed so he was able to look at what he was doing. "Guess, all things being equal, that's fair." But he found his hand being stilled by Angel's. "Remember that thing I said about you not doing anything you don't want to do?" Angel sounded serious. "Do I look like I'm doing something I don't want to do?" Doyle asked, raising an eyebrow. "No?" There was nothing sure about Angel's answer, if it could even be called that. Doyle slide back up Angel's body so he could kiss him, putting all his feelings for the vampire into the gesture. "Still unsure?" he asked softly when he pulled back. "No," Angel said, with a hint of humor in his voice. "Still hard though. If you keep rubbing up against me like that I'm not going to need your hand or to lose the pants." "Really." Doyle grinned. "We'll have to try that sometime. But now..." he slid back down to undo Angel's slacks, "I've other ideas in mind." When he slid his hand inside to wrap his fingers around Angel's cock, Angel made a low pitched sound and closed his eyes. "Yeah. Touch me like that. Please..." "Used to have fantasies like this," Doyle said, sliding his hand along Angel's length, his thumb brushing over the tip. He grinned up at Angel. "You, at my mercy." "Anything," Angel gasped, his fists clenching in the sheets underneath them. "I'll do anything. Just... don't stop." "I like the sound of that. Maybe we can use this as a new positive reinforcement -- you don't beat yourself up for a day, I do this for you that night," Doyle suggested. "What do ya think?" Angel threw one arm up over his eyes, his back arching to push himself more firmly into Doyle's grip. "Please," he said, shuddering. "Doyle. Please..." "Bet you're ready to go off like a rocket," Doyle observed. "How long's it been since someone touched you?" "Um... like this?" Angel sounded like he could barely get his brain around the question. "For real? Not since..." He gasped as Doyle's fingers squeezed a little tighter. " ... since Darla." "That long, huh? Well I guess I better make this real special then to celebrate the occasion." With that, Doyle shifted down enough to take Angel into his mouth. Angel tensed, as if about to protest, but then instead fisted his hands into the sheets again. He was trembling like a leaf. "Doyle. God, I can't..." Unable to speak with his mouth full, Doyle just ran a hand soothingly down Angel's thigh as he took Angel's cock in further. It didn't come as a surprise when, seconds later, Angel cried out and came, his thigh under Doyle's palm hardening to stone with the sheer power of his orgasm. Doyle continued what he was doing, prolonging his lover's climax, then soothing him afterwards. Finally he raised his head and grinned at Angel. The look on Angel's face wasn't quite what he'd expected to see, but Angel immediately offered him a shaky smile and pulled him up into an embrace. "That was... I don't even..." "I love you," Doyle said, overriding the stammering and leaning in to kiss him. Angel returned the kiss eagerly, holding Doyle even more tightly against him. "Love you too." Doyle squirmed around until he was comfortably half draped over top of Angel, then relaxed sighing contentedly. "So ya want to tell me why getting a blow job from yours truly made you look like you'd just lost your best friend?" "I didn't -- " Angel started, then paused. "Yeah, I guess maybe I did. Look like that, I mean." He paused again, long enough that Doyle began to wonder if he was going to answer the question at all. Finally, Angel shrugged awkwardly and said, "I... felt cheated?" Doyle gave him a questioning look. "That I couldn't, you know, do this?" Angel struggled to find words, obviously making a real effort. "For so long. And then, you know... guilty." "For getting some now? Or wishing you could have been getting some all along?" "Both?" Angel said hesitantly. His thumb was making little random patterns on Doyle's shoulder. Doyle pressed closer, hoping his proximity would provide some comfort. "I don't suppose my telling you that you shouldn't feel guilty is going to help very much, huh?" Angel kissed Doyle's temple. "Probably not. But... I don't mind hearing it." "You shouldn't feel guilty," Doyle said obligingly, tilting his head to kiss Angel again. Angel made a contented sound, then settled back onto the pillows. Doyle felt the motion as Angel turned his head to look at the clock. "Pizza guy's gonna be here soon," Angel said regretfully. Doyle weighed his hunger against how right it felt to be where he was, but his stomach growling made up his mind. "Good thing you kept most of your clothes on then, huh?" he asked, kissing Angel again. "Oh, so *I* have to go down and get it?" Angel complained good-naturedly as they both started to get up. "I'd be happy to go get it, but..." Doyle made a show of looking Angel up and down and then himself, only having a brief moment of disorientation at the sight of his new body. "I'll do it," Angel said, watching Doyle look at himself. "You okay? With, you know... all of this?" "No breakdown in my immediate future," Doyle assured him. "Though if you have a robe or something I could borrow...?" "Oh. Yeah." Angel turned and went to fetch a robe, bringing it over and handing it to Doyle. "There are, um, some other clothes too. That'd fit you." He cocked his head slightly as if listening. "And the pizza guy's here. I'll be right back." Doyle shrugged into the robe and tied it around his waist. It gaped a bit over his chest, but he supposed that was one of the things he was going to have to get used to. Struck with curiosity suddenly, Doyle went in search of a mirror, but didn't find one in the entire suite, even the bathroom. "Right," he muttered under his breath. "Vampire, no reflection." Angel came back into the suite carrying a pizza box and a glass bottle of juice and wearing a sheepish expression. "What's that expression for?" Doyle asked, moving to meet him and take the pizza from Angel. "Um..." Angel glanced down at the floor, then back up at Doyle with a little shrug. "I didn't ask you what you wanted. I just got what Cordy likes." Doyle froze for a second, then firmly pushed down whatever strange feeling that comment gave him. "It's okay," he said with a smile. "I like pizza pretty much any way. Besides, I do have Cordelia's taste buds now; maybe I'll have her tastes too. Won't know until we experiment." "You gonna become a scientist or something?" Angel asked. "Maybe we can get you a job with Fred." "Haven't really thought about what I'm going to do now," Doyle said, sitting down and opening the pizza box; the smell made his mouth water. "But somehow, I don't think scientist is going to be high on the list." "You can take as much time as you need," Angel assured him. "You know, to get back into the swing of things. Heck, you don't have to go back to work at all if you don't want to." "What, become a gentleman... woman... person of leisure?" Doyle teased, though his stumbling over how to refer to himself rather zapped the humour out of it. "Yeah. I mean, that'd be okay. Not like money's an issue these days." Angel smiled a little bit uncertainly, like he wasn't sure how Doyle was taking this. Doyle shrugged. "It's never been about the money," he said then immediately amended, "Well, 'cept when someone wanted money or my skin. Then I guess it was about the money." "Sometimes things are. About money. But yeah... you could do anything you wanted, pretty much. You should think about it." Doyle picked up a slice of the pizza and took a bite. Oh yeah, food was good. "Wesley suggested I might want to go back to teaching," he said, after relishing the act of eating and tasting for a few minutes. "Oh. Well, yeah. You could do that." Angel tilted his head to the side a bit. "Do you want to do that?" "I dunno. What do you think?" Doyle asked curiously. Angel fiddled with the bottom button of his shirt. "I think... you'd be good with kids. Plus, um, looking like you do now... it'd be easier. Than some other things." "I *was* good at it," Doyle said, smiling a little at the memories. "Kids... they're honest, y'know? That's refreshing sometimes." "Yeah," Angel said. "That's a nice stage, I guess. When they're like that." It suddenly dawned on Doyle that teasing Angel about kids was probably not the nicest thing he could do with the vampire. "Sorry," he said softly. "Don't be." Angel swallowed, then said gruffly, "It's not your fault." "Still... I'm usually better at avoiding putting my foot in it like that." "It's just... " "I know," Doyle said. "I'm not seriously thinking of going back to teaching," he added after a moment. "You're not?" He might have been imagining it, but he thought Angel sounded hopeful. "Nah. Like I told Wesley, that's a different life." He quirked his mouth up into a smile. "Literally. But fighting the good fight, that's what I want to do. What I'm meant to do. Figure the best way to do that is work with you." "You're not gonna be doing anything if you don't get some food into you," Angel pointed out, seeming more relaxed now. "So... you and Wes have been talking a lot, huh." "Some." Doyle obligingly took another bite of his pizza. "Not as much as with you." "Do you think...?" Angel moved over to sit down, his elbows resting on his thighs as he leaned forward. "Do you think I did the wrong thing? Having him forget what really happened, I mean?" Doyle chose his words carefully when answering. "I think not remembering is hurting him. He still has the emotions, he just doesn't know why now." "I thought I was doing the right thing," Angel said after a long minute. "I know." Doyle put his pizza back down and reached over to touch Angel's knee. "You were trying to spare everyone the pain you're carrying. You always do that." Angel put his hand over Doyle's, just resting it there. "You're... really good at this." "What -- telling you the truth?" "Making me feel better." "Oh." He smiled. "Well good. Maybe that's what I should look at doing with my life then." "First you should probably concentrate on the next couple of weeks," Angel said. "You know, just adjusting. To the whole female parts thing." His eyes flickered down to Doyle's chest. Doyle resisted the urge to pull his robe more fully closed. "Looks like I'm not the only one needing to adjust," he observed. "Yeah, well, it's... kinda different." Angel seemed to realize what he'd just said. "Sorry. Is this... are you okay with this? I mean, if you want me to back off..." Doyle started to answer verbally, but decided actions might make his point clearer. He moved into Angel's lap, straddling Angel's legs, facing the vampire. "What do you think?" Angel's arms wrapped around him automatically, holding him steady. "I think you're a very bad influence," Angel said, with a little grin. "I can live with that," Doyle said, grinning back, then leaning in for a kiss. He could quite happily take up kissing Angel as a full time profession. Angel's kisses were strong and not at all hesitant, the vampire's hands sliding down to cup Doyle's behind and pull him closer. "I don't want to wait," Angel said, with his lips still brushing against Doyle's. "Can't. I need to be inside you." That sent a shiver of arousal through Doyle. "Ya see me protesting?" he asked, smiling against Angel's mouth. So quickly that it made Doyle's head spin, Angel lifted him and turned them around, pressing Doyle down into the mattress. Eager. Doyle decided then and there he liked an eager Angel. "You going to take your clothes off this time?" "Don't know if I can wait that long," Angel said, one arm supporting his weight while the other hand fumbled with the zipper on his slacks. He kissed Doyle again, their tongues meeting. Doyle wrapped his arms around Angel's neck, holding onto him as their tongues dueled and Angel plundered his mouth. He only realized that Angel had managed to get his pants undone when he felt something hard and not totally unfamiliar pressing against his thigh. "Guess that's a start," Doyle breathed, chuckling against Angel's lips. "Tell me it's okay," Angel said, sliding a hand between them to tease Doyle's entrance, causing a bolt of pleasure. "Doyle. Gonna make you feel so good, I swear it. Tell me I can." "You can. Please," Doyle said, anticipation running along his spine. Instinctively he moved his legs wider apart, pulling his knees up, offering himself to Angel. Angel kissed him again before guiding his cock into place, pushing inside just the tiniest bit and then pausing as if waiting for Doyle's reaction. "Ohh," Doyle breathed, his eyes widening at the new sensation. He arched his hips up, trying to get the tantalizing hardness where he was aching for it. Angel obliged, pushing in further, his cock stretching the tender flesh as it went deeper into Doyle. It made Doyle gasp, left him unable to breath for a moment. "Angel..." Immediately Angel stopped moving and just kissed him, taking his time, being gentle. "It's okay. Can wait right here until you're ready." "This is..." Doyle shifted slightly, gasping again as that made Angel slide a little bit deeper, "very weird." "You want to stop?" There was concern in Angel's eyes. "No," Doyle said quickly, lifting his head to kiss him. "It's weird, but it's a good weird. Just... weird. Y'know?" Angel smiled and pulled out a little bit, then thrust back in slowly. "Still weird?" he asked. "Yeah." Doyle's voice was becoming a bit breathless. "Don't stop." "Oh, don't worry," Angel said, thrusting in deeper. "Not gonna stop any time soon. Feels too good." That pulled another gasp from Doyle. "Never felt anything like this..." Angel was moving steadily now, his cock touching every part of Doyle, inside, both causing and soothing an itch that Doyle hadn't known existed until now. Then Angel shifted his weight, slid his hand back down between them. Doyle cried out when Angel's fingers touched him, the same sensitive reaction as earlier but somehow more intense with Angel's cock inside him at the same time. "That's it," Angel said encouragingly, slowing down his thrusts just a little bit while his fingertips pressed and rubbed. "Just relax, enjoy it. Want you to feel good." Doyle would have laughed if he hadn't been so caught up in what he was experiencing. Feel good? He was so beyond good at the moment that he didn't have words to describe it. He could tell from the tension in Angel's body that the vampire was holding back, concentrating all of his attention on Doyle. Angel was watching Doyle's face intently as he thrust, as if trying to read what he was thinking, feeling. The ability to speak at all coherently seemed to have left Doyle, but he held Angel's gaze, hoping his feelings were apparent in his eyes and in his soft sounds of pleasure. "God... you feel..." Angel obviously wasn't doing much better in the talking department, and he started moving faster again, like he couldn't quite control himself. The thought that he was making Angel lose control went a great way towards making Doyle lose control too. "You too," he managed to gasp as he moved in concert with Angel, urging him on. Angel groaned as Doyle rose to meet his thrusts. "Don't want to hurt you," Angel said tightly. "You hear... me... complaining?" Doyle gasped. "Oh god, more." That seemed to get through to Angel -- he shifted his weight back onto his knees and pulled Doyle up to meet him, both hands on Doyle's waist as he drove in harder and faster than before. Doyle just held on in the face of the growing feelings that Angel's possession were engendering; held on and watched similar feeling flit over Angel's face. "Love you," Angel said, giving voice to the emotion. He slid one hand to the small of Doyle's back and splayed the other across his stomach, thumb's tip moving over Doyle's most sensitive spot with each powerful thrust. Doyle moaned as the pleasurable ache built, becoming more intense with every movement. "Angel," he breathed, acknowledgment and plea all in one. Leaning down, Angel licked a small circle around Doyle's taut nipple, then blew air across the damp skin. "Want you to come with me inside you," Angel said, his voice strained as he moved even deeper, so deep inside that Doyle almost couldn't stand it. It wasn't going to be a difficult request to fulfill; Doyle was on the edge already and fast tipping over. When he felt Angel shudder, and his own body suddenly lock up with pleasure, he knew he was falling. Everything went away for a few seconds after that, but reality snapped back into focus just in time to watch Angel's face as he came. Angel gave a low moan, and Doyle could feel him trembling, could feel his cock throbbing. The vampire gasped out, "Doyle..." before he collapsed forward, barely managing to catch his weight on his forearms. Doyle wrapped his arms around Angel, pulling him down closer. "God," Angel said after a minute, when the worst of the shudders seemed to have passed. "That was..." "Yeah," Doyle replied, feeling himself smiling so widely it almost made his face hurt. "It was." He felt Angel relax a little bit at that. "Good," Angel said softly. Doyle chuckled. "And you still haven't managed to get undressed." Angel pushed himself up and kissed Doyle. "Yeah. Have to see if we can't do something about that next time." "Next time." Doyle kissed him back. "I like the sound of that." "Good," Angel said again. "'Cause I can see us doing this a lot." "So I'm not going to have to talk you into this every time?" Doyle grinned. "See, he can be taught." "You just have to find the right reward," Angel agreed, "and you can get me to do just about anything." "Think maybe I've found it?" "I hope you're not saying you think all I care about is sex," Angel said, rubbing his nose against Doyle's. "And I hope that wasn't a serious concern. Or we're going to have some long talks." "Does that mean if I tell you I was just kidding we *won't* be having any long talks?" Angel asked hopefully. Doyle grinned. "Not about that at least." Without warning, Angel moved off of him and rolled both of them sideways so that Doyle was cradled on the vampire's chest. "What *are* we going to be having long talks about?" "Oh, lots of things, I'm sure." Doyle snuggled closer, with a contented sigh. "The past, the future," he paused and grinned, "your hair..." "Hey!" Angel said, one hand going automatically up to touch the hair in question. "I'm not changing my hair." "No?" Still smiling, Doyle reached up and ran his fingers through Angel's hair. "Well okay, maybe. Does it really look that bad?" Angel sounded anxious. "It's fine," Doyle said, taking pity on him. "Really." He continued to run his fingers through it, smoothing out the spiky bits the gel had styled. Angel continued to watch Doyle's face for a minute, then sighed and closed his eyes. "Feels nice," he said softly. So this is what Angel looked like with his defenses down, Doyle thought, continuing to play with Angel's hair. "Can keep doing it, if you want." "Mmm." The noise was noncommittal, but the little smile at the corners of Angel's lips was a good enough answer. "Will have to make note. When I want you to melt, play with your hair." Angel's arm around him tightened briefly, then relaxed again. "Mm-hm." "Any other secrets I should know?" Doyle asked softly. The silence was so long that he started to think Angel had drifted off to sleep, but then the vampire murmured, "Love you?" Doyle smiled and kissed him lightly. "That one I already know."
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