TITLE: I Never Could Have Said
AUTHOR: Ragna (writinggoddess@aol.com)
RATING: FRT
CLASSIFICATION: Cordelia/Doyle musings
SPOILERS: All of "Angel"
DISTRIBUTION: Slay This, other sites with my fic up. Everyone else just keep my name on it and let me know.
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 hostage. Carolyn's got Xander, May's got Oz, Cathryn's got Ethan, Shelly has Angel, and Gillian has Doyle. You may see them by appointment only. Each title contains a lyric from Four Star Mary's "Run." The song is also used in this fic.
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: Finally, the end. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and sorry for posting so much in the last few days.
***
It had been exactly a year since he'd died. So many things had changed.
After his outburst in the office, Cordelia had finally started being civil to Wesley. It had been hard, but they'd developed a solid working relationship, and that was all it was. Well, now is was becoming a friendship, but that was going slowly.
Angel and Kate had started to date, taking things exceedingly slowly, and even Wesley had found a person to fall for.
But Cordy was still alone, and she spent her time at home avoiding the many people who were interested in her. She had grown more beautiful every day, even though she looked older than her nineteen years.
She'd changed out of the jeans and button down shirt, one of his, that she'd worn when she visited his grave, slipping into a simple black dress. Angel was bound and determined to honor Doyle's memory, and honor it well.
They were going to meet at The Key Club, where Dingoes Ate My Baby was playing. She really didn't want to go. She just wanted to go home and cry. Slipping on his leather jacket, she headed out into the night.
***
Cordelia looked at the shot of whiskey in front of her. "I don't want it," she said, pushing it back towards Wesley.
"It's tradition."
"I don't want it."
Wesley sighed. "All right." He took the whisky and turned to the group of people clustered around. "To the friends who never leave."
"To the friends who never leave," everyone chorused, raising their shot glasses in the air. Everyone except Cordelia, who just mumbled the toast.
Angel sighed, raising his glass. "To the true hero."
"To the true hero."
Cordelia looked at the table, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and pouring a shot. She looked at the glass, seemingly measuring it. Finally, she raised it in the air.
"To the person I just recently realized I'd loved."
The others remained silent, except Angel, who nodded and said, "To Doyle."
The others got sad grins on their faces and added "To Doyle!"
The door opened almost suddenly, and the bartender barked out. "Shut the door!"
"All right, all right," a voice with a familiar accent said. Even over the din of bar patrons and the Dingoes song, Cordelia just knew that voice. Or thought she did. Trying not to get her hopes up, she turned back to her friends.
Occasionally, she looked around, wondering if it was a figment of her imagination or just wishful thinking. The conversation turned away from toasts as the others drifted off in pairs onto the makeshift dance floor.
She was standing up and on her way to the bathroom when she heard the voice again.
"Think I might get my jacket back soon?"
Turning around, she saw him, right there. Just as she remembered him when he kissed her.
Alive. Breathing. Handsome as ever.
"Doyle?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded. "Princess..."
He didn't finish the sentence as she threw herself into his arms, crushing her lips to his and almost knocking them off balance. He held her tightly, winding his hands in her hair.
The second kiss was as good as the first.
He pulled away, catching his breath. "Don't you want to know--"
"Not right now. Right now..." she said, running her free hand through his hair. "We need to tell everyone you're back. And you really are back, right?"
He nodded. “I wasn't exactly a ghost, for some reason. I think The Powers were making life hard for everyone. But I was watching you."
"You were?"
He nodded, pulling her onto the floor and wrapping his arms around her waist. She nestled her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him. "You smell the same," she mumbled, closing her eyes.
He smiled, also shutting his eyes. They swayed to the beat of the music briefly, content to just be together.
It was Angel who spotted him first.
"Doyle?" he asked, letting go of Kate and moving towards the two of them.
"Angel, go away," Cordelia said, lifting her head up. "I want alone time."
"Is it really him?" Kate asked, moving behind Angel and grasping her hand.
"Well, I know that Angel saw Buffy a year ago, then asked the Oracle to swallow the day. And I know the last thing I said to Cordelia was about me being a demon, and wondering if she could love me."
Cordelia gripped him tighter, and kept her head on his shoulder.
"How'd you get back?" Angel asked.
Doyle looked at his friends, then back to Cordelia. "She said she loved me. And someone up there was paying attention. And I got sent back here."
"That was it?"
"Does there have to be an answer, Angel?" Cordelia said. "Look, if this is temporary...could you give me some time with him?"
Angel started to say something but Kate pulled him away. "She's right." Finally, he nodded and they left.
Doyle wrapped Cordelia in his arms again. "I won't leave again," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He kissed the top of her head, and they just stood holding there, making up for lost time together.