Chapter 2
Author: Christie
Rating: R (overall story)
Spoilers: Somnambulist
Summary: In order for the three to survive a new challenge, Doyle must learn to accept his inner demon.
Disclaimer: Angel, Doyle, Cordelia and all other characters from the Angel television series belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and/or 20th Century Fox and other entities who aren't us. We only wish that we owned them and could keep them safe and happy and loved.
Thoughts between Angel, Doyle and Cordelia are marked //like this.//
A loud squeal reverberated through Angel's apartment as Cordelia raced down the stairs, carefully dodging each of Doyle's attempts to catch her. Angel closed his eyes against the thundering of feet and sunk further into his pillow.
//Think you're gonna beat me down there to wake him up properly, Princess?//
Angel could hear the breathlessness, even in Doyle's thought, and he joined Cordelia as she laughed aloud once again.
//Just did,// she announced, hopping onto the bed and stripping the comforter from atop Angel's body. She straddled the vampire immediately, lavishing small, wet kisses across his bare chest.
Groaning softly, Angel felt parts of him relax even further, and other parts awaken, simultaneously.
//...Should probably get up,// he tried, unable to sit up without dislodging Cordelia's insistent hands and mouth. //No one's upstairs answering the phone.//
They heard Doyle laugh softly in their minds. //No one answers the phone even if all three of us are upstairs,// he disparaged, joining his two lovers on the bed. He tugged one of Angel's legs onto his lap, trailing his fingers along the smooth, cool skin of the inner thigh.
Angel groaned again. //What did I do to deserve this?// he asked, smiling as Cordelia playfully nipped lightly at one nipple, then laved it gently with her tongue.
//You've forgotten last night already?// Doyle asked, sending several quick images of the previous night to both his counterparts. Cordelia moaned softly against Angel's chest. The vampire growled as Doyle's hand found its way farther up to the juncture between his legs. Doyle sent the sly thought, //Now what might we have here? Cordelia darlin', y'think he's beginning to remember?// as his fingers began to explore familiar territory. //I'd take a guess y'haven't forgotten yet.//
Cordelia nodded in silent approval as Doyle sent pictures through her mind of Angel's reaction to their attention. She continued her work with her mouth, moving upward and kissing his collarbone as Angel's hands began to work open the buttons on her shirt. A soft moan floated between the three of them, though it wasn't clear who emitted it.
It didn't matter. Angel and Cordelia's lips crashed together in a hungry, passionate kiss at the same moment Doyle's mouth enveloped the vampire's flesh.
//How can y'be so cool and so hot at the same time? This needs further investigatin', don'tcha think?//
//And that is what we're here for, right?//
All three sank a little further into the mattress as Angel's pleasure misted through each of their minds.
It was Angel who rose from bed first this time, untangling himself from his sleepy lovers and managing to rise without disturbing either of them. He slipped a pair of pants over his hips and pulled a sweater over his head, looking down at himself and smiling candidly as he did so. Gray sweater, black pants. Perhaps the gray would offset a potential Cordelia-comment about the black-on-black look.
//Don't count on it,// was the drowsy thought from the direction of the bed.
Angel smiled and glanced over at Cordelia as she took Doyle's hand from across her stomach and laid it gently at his side. She raked long, thin fingers through her tousled hair and threw Angel a disparaging look.
//Gray is just a shade of black, lover,// she scolded, stretching her legs over the side of the bed and swinging them to the floor. She grabbed for her own colorful ensemble, a maroon skirt with navy trim and a fitted navy collared shirt, and dressed.
When she was finished, she made her way to the kitchen and took a seat at the table, watching as Angel aimlessly puttered around the sink.
//I vaguely remember catching something about an audition today?// Angel questioned, stacking the dishes from the drainer and replacing them in the cupboards.
Cordelia leaned over, swatting Angel's butt as she read the time off the clock on the stove. //Still got 20 minutes,// she mused, tracing her fingers across the subtle pattern in the marble of the table. //Plus 15 for fashionable lateness.// She watched Angel for moments more, and frowned when he didn't respond. //Doyle and I were talking about Wesley earlier,// she prompted, drawing nothing more than a shrug of the vampire's powerful shoulders.
"What are we gonna tell him?"
Cordelia asked this aloud, her voice hushed low so as to not wake their other lover who still slept. Angel raised his eyebrows, though Cordelia wasn't sure the reaction was to the question, or to the noise she used to ask it. She wasn't even sure why she'd asked it aloud, but figured it couldn't hurt to get a reaction.
//What do you mean, 'tell him'?// Angel communicated, pulling a chair out from the table and turning it backwards, straddling it with his arms resting across the back.
//He's starting to suspect.//
//So? I guarantee he's figured out less than you think he's figured out. And what's he gonna do, ask us?//
//Still,// Cordelia insisted. //I think we should have a plan in case — //
Her thought was cut short as a blinding pain slammed through her consciousness. Doyle groaned loudly from the bed, echoing Cordelia's cry of pain as her head plummeted to the surface of the table. Angel was torn. He moved around the table, stopping at Cordelia's chair, then glanced toward Doyle who was holding his head between two pillows.
//Cordelia,// was Doyle's strangled answer to Angel's indecision. The vampire barely heard the words in his mind but felt the sentiment, not at all surprised that Doyle insisted he tend to their female lover rather than soothe his own pain.
Angel knelt aside Cordelia's chair, gently lifting her head and cradling it in his hands. She whimpered in pain, eyelids fluttering somewhere between open and closed. //It's alright, Cordelia,// Angel soothed, stroking his cool palm across her flushed forehead.
He saw her mouth form the words, but did not hear them surface on the air. Instead, Angel heard it in his mind. //Doyle. Need... Doyle.//
The vampire nodded, standing and lifting the girl easily into his arms. He strode quickly to the bed, depositing her still-limp form into Doyle's waiting arms. The two held each other, breaths coming in exhausted, strangled gasps, but he could feel their pain easing somewhat at the contact with one another.
Angel watched, arms crossed over his chest, feeling as helpless as he ever had. The visions had a purpose, he knew that, but he hated that they pained Doyle and Cordelia so much to get them. It didn't seem fair, that they were the messengers, he the one who received the glory.
He'd once told Doyle that he was the message. And he was. The messengers were important. The message was secondary.
//No.//
It was the first clear, coherent word he'd heard in his mind since the visions started. Turning his attention back to the pair on the bed, Angel knew the sentiment had not come from Cordelia. She was curled against Doyle's chest, fists crushed around the sheet that covered him. Angel's eyes flitted toward Doyle.
//What?//
//You are not secondary. None of us are. And we are about to get that lesson handed to us on a silver platter.//
A fear colder than his body plummeted into Angel's stomach. He lowered himself to the bed, arm immediately circling around Doyle's back. He pulled both Doyle and Cordelia closer to him and lowered his head to theirs.
//What did you see?//
His answer was Cordelia's frightened thought. When she turned her head, her face was ashen.
//We need each other, Angel. We need each other more than we ever have before.//
