Title: Standing Still

Author/pseudonym: Lyric

Fandom: Angel

Paring: Angel/Doyle

Rating: PG

Archive: Unless I already gave you permission, please ask first.

Series/Sequel: This is the sequel to 'Falling Back'. Originally, this was going to be a short two-part effort, but it looks like I have another series on my hands...

Disclaimers: Angel, Doyle, and Cordelia are WAY too cool to belong to me.

Notes: This is a continuation from 'Falling Back'. It may make more sense if you read that one first. Also, on LegionDenial, it was mentioned that Doyle signed his divorce papers from Harry in late December. I made up my dates based on that.

Summary: After a mysterious ritual transports Angel and Cordelia back a year, they are granted a second chance with Doyle in their lives.

Warnings: Spoilers up to and including 'Parting Gifts'. M/M implications.

FALLING BACK 2: STANDING STILL

By Lryic

The three stood in silence, Angel and Cordelia unable to move. Or perhaps they were unwilling, fearing that any movement would break the moment, and Doyle would simply vanish again like in so many uneasy dreams.

Doyle, for his part, was looking and feeling confused. He was trying to figure out why his friends were staring at him, he was rather curious about the hug he had walked in on, and he was trying _very_ hard to convince himself that he wasn't jealous. He was also starting to feel a bit self-conscious under their hard gazes, so he spared a quick glance down at himself, and just to be safe, casually wiped at the tip of his nose.

Then, he gave himself a quick reminder that yes, he would have felt the spikes had they decided to pop out unexpectedly.

"What?" he finally asked in exasperation.

"Oh my God!" Cordelia suddenly gasped loudly, breaking away from Angel and crossing the room in quick steps. Before Doyle had a chance to react, she threw her arms around him, and burying her face in his chest, simply murmured his name over and over.

Doyle was too surprised to react initially, but the sound of sobs that started from Cordelia shook him from his shock somewhat. He still wasn't sure as to what was going on, but his first instinct was to try and comfort his distraught friend. His hand moved to rub gentle circles on her back.

"Shh, Princess. It's all right. You know, I've always had this fantasy of you throwing yourself into my arms, but I gotta tell you, tears were never really involved."

The joke seemed to get her attention, as she pulled back to look at him through moist eyes.

"I-I've missed you, Doyle." she whispered.

Doyle's brow creased, and he gave his sniffling friend a confused smile.

"Missed me? I only went to use the little boy's room. Besides, it's almost time for that Soap that you supposedly _don't_ watch. I mean, usually around now you're begging to be rid of me!"

Cordelia's dark eyes widened at this, before she broke down into fresh sobs.

Doyle looked helplessly over her shoulder at Angel.

"Angel, a little help?"

And for the second time that day, Doyle found himself suddenly caught up in an unexpected embrace. This time, however, it was _his_ face pressed against a broad chest. His confusion, along with his concern, was steadily increasing as he stood wrapped in Angel's strong arms. He allowed himself a moment of guilty pleasure as he leaned into the embrace, before his worry led him to pull back.

Or, he attempted to pull back. It was soon pretty clear that the vampire had no immediate intentions of releasing him. So, instead, he said in a slightly muffled voice,

"Would somebody please tell me what's going on?"

Angel eased his hold on the smaller man, but instead of stepping back, brought his hands up to cup Doyle's face. His eyes searched the fair face with a desperate look, that was at odds with his usual stoic expression.

Doyle had a million questions at this, but he could voice none of them, as his wide eyes watched Angel watch him. Breathing suddenly seemed more of a challenge.

Angel was barely aware of his actions. All he knew was that somehow, miraculously, Doyle was here, warm under his hands, and wonderfully alive. His thoughts could go no further than that, as his hands roamed gently over the pale but slightly flushed soft skin. He inhaled deeply, and tasted the sweet breath that warmed his face, his lips, and unconsciously, the tip of the vampire's tongue wet his own lips to capture more of that taste. Doyle's eyes grew impossibly wider at this sight, and his breaths were now soft pants.

Angel could not explain how this happened, how Doyle escaped death's grasp, but it truly did not matter.

There are certain moments where explanations and reason have no place.

The phone rang, and after the third ring, Doyle was the only one able to pull himself together to answer it. Stepping reluctantly away from Angel, Doyle moved to the desk and snatched the phone from the receiver.

"Er, Angel Investigations, we hope, um, I mean, we're here, oh, hell, what do you want?"

Doyle listened for a few seconds while throwing concerned glances over towards his friends who continued to drink in every move he made. Finally, he rolled his eyes.

"Listen, we already have a bloody newspaper!" he snapped slamming the phone down.

He ran a hand through his thick black hair, and spoke with exasperation and worry clear in his voice.

"One of you had better start telling me what's going on, because I gotta tell you, I'm starting to seriously freak out here!"

"Doyle, oh my god..." Cordelia began.

"Yes, you already said that. Now, what's up with the two of you?"

Cordelia opened and shut her mouth a few times, before shaking her head to try and clear it. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulders and into her face.

Somehow, that movement caught Angel's eye, and suddenly he flashed back to the night Cordelia walked into this office with an uncertain smile on her face, as her delicate hand ran nervously through her newly cut short hair...

His hand came up and fingered the long silky strands, and as Cordelia turned to look at him, dark eyes met dark eyes, as pieces finally fell together--

--Miriam Sandburg--the ritual--'it will give a second chance...'--

Finally, Doyle reached his breaking point.

"Look, the two of you can sit there and stare at each other all night, but I'm out of here. When you can find it in your hearts to tell me what's going on, give me a call."

"NO!" both Cordelia and Angel shouted.

Doyle looked incredulously at the pair.

"No?"

"Don't leave! I mean, please don't." Cordelia began frantically, stepping towards him, "It's just, um, stress!"

"Stress." he responded flatly.

"Yes! That's exactly right. We, Angel and I, are stressed out about--"

"The case." Angel helpfully supplied.

"The case! We are stressed out about the case!" Cordelia announced with a brilliant smile of triumph.

Then, remembering what she just said, decided it would be a better effect to drop the smile.

Doyle shook his head in disbelief.

"Really? Now, let me see if I got this straight. In the past, we've faced a demon that could leap from person to person, a mad love-sick surgeon who could separate various body parts, and a murderous poltergeist who wasn't too fond of house guests, but the two of you are acting all weird because you're 'stressed out' over a case in which we've been hired to find out who stole a few hundred bucks from some old guy?"

"Well, yes," Cordelia began, "I mean, money is kind of a problem in our office. You know, touchy subject and all."

Doyle opened and closed his mouth several times, but he could honestly think of no reply to give.

"We need a break." Angel announced.

"Good idea!" Cordelia agreed gratefully.

"A break? You were just complaining about how stressed you were about the case. Shouldn't we be looking for the person who stole Mr. Jackson's money?"

"Mr Jackson?" Cordelia rolled her eyes and wave her hand in a dismissive gesture, "That old guy wasn't even robbed. He stuffed all that money in his mattress and just plain ol' forgot about it."

Doyle turned to stare at her. Angel closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Cordelia was wearing a look of 'Oops!' on her face.

"The call came when you were out." Angel jumped in, shooting a look at Cordelia.

"It did? But, then, I mean, the, the stress?!?!?" Doyle sputtered helplessly.

Cordelia reached out and tugged on Doyle's arm.

"Total post trauma reaction. Let's go, Doyle." she said while leading him out of the office, "We can all go to that bar you like so much down on 5th. Angel's buying!"

"I don't understand any of this!" he said in complete exasperation.

"What's there to understand?" Cordelia said cheerfully, hooking her arm around his,"Didn't you just hear me mention that there is free alcohol coming your way?"

Giving up and shaking his head, Doyle muttered,

"Lead me to it."

The three friends spent hours in the bar, Doyle taking full advantage of the free alcohol he had been promised. If Doyle noticed that he led most of the conversations, while his friends encouraged him to speak, seemingly content to merely listen to the sound of his voice, he never mentioned it. Or, if it came to his attention that both went out of their way to touch him a little bit more often, a little pat on the hand, a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, as if confirming that he was really there, well, then he didn't mention that, either.

A while later, the trio were down in Angel's apartment. Doyle was sleeping on the couch, issuing small snores that belong to someone who's sleep had more to do with passing out than fatigue. Angel and Cordelia stood across the room, watching him sleep.

Angel moved slowly but decisively to his desk in the corner, and picked up his day calendar. He looked over at Cordelia. Looking more unhappy than she had been only seconds before, but never the less resigned, she joined him by the desk.

"January 6, 2000." she read, "Saying that Miriam's spell seems to have been successful would kind of be stating the obvious, huh?"

"Yeah." Angel said quietly.

They were quiet for a long time, as their eyes fell again on Doyle.

"One month." Angel said, saying out loud what they were both thinking.

Cordelia remained silent, merely crossed the room to sit on the table across from where Doyle slept.

One month until The Scourge came.

Angel moved to stand behind Cordelia, and put his hand on her shoulder. She shook beneath his hand. Her eyes never leaving her sleeping friend, she said in a low voice,

"I don't want to think about it right now. I can't. Just for tonight, I want to sit here and just watch him, watch his chest move when he breathes, and listen to his stupid little snores. And in the morning, I want to hear him complain about his hangover, and watch him listen to me tease him about all the dumb things he said and did while he was all silly and drunk. Then I want to open the child-proof aspirin cap, because he can never figure it out, just so I can see the gratitude in his completely beautiful bloodshot eyes."

Angel sat beside her, his gaze on Doyle.

"Sounds like a plan to me." he whispered.

They had a month, one month to answer so many questions and make so many decisions. But for now, they were safe, all of them were safe.

THE SERIES CONTINUES