Title: Stepping Up

Author/pseudonym: Lyric

Fandom: Angel

Paring: Angel/Doyle

Rating: PG

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

Series/Sequel: Sequel to 'Falling Back' and 'Standing Still'

Disclaimers: Angel, Doyle, and Cordelia aren't mine. Something which really pisses me off.

Notes: It took forever and a day, but here it is. This will make more sense if you read the two previous stories. It may also help to be familiar with the episode 'Bachelor Party'.

This one turned out surprisingly tame, but the good stuff is coming. Maybe one day I'll just cut to the chase and give you the juicy bits right away, but for now, let us bask in the glory of sequels.

Summary: Doyle sees the ending of one relationship, as other possibilities begin to present themselves.

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

FALLING BACK 3: STEPPING UP

By Lyric

Doyle climbed the stairs to his apartment, his jaw cracking in a tired yawn. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, and ignoring the light switch, crossed the thickly dark apartment to quietly peer out his window into the street below him.

Sure enough, there was Angel, standing next to his car with those pale cool hands shoved into the pockets of his long black coat, head tilted back slightly, eyes fixed steadily on Doyle's apartment. The half-demon stood to the side of the window, knowing that although he could see out, he himself remained hidden. He waited for just a few moments with his gaze locked on the vampire below his window. Angel remained unmoving, like some achingly beautiful statue standing in sharp contrast to the ugliness of Los Angeles.

Then, Doyle reached out and clicked on a nearby lamp, and the shadows were chased back as the room flooded with electric light.

Doyle waited a heart beat. Two. Three. Then, the sound of a car door being shut followed by the quiet roar of ignition. Only when he heard the car pull into traffic, did Doyle drop into a nearby chair. He let his head fall into his hands and released a heavy sigh.

This was getting ridiculous.

It had been the same routine every night for the past few weeks. Angel would insist on driving him home each night, then would wait until he knew that Doyle was safely in his apartment before leaving. Not that the sentiment wasn't sweet, but the half-demon couldn't help but feel it was a little extreme. Making sure he got into the building was one thing, if not a little silly in itself, but actually waiting for the lights to go on was something else entirely. It was as if Angel was afraid that something was going to reach out and snatch Doyle away on his way up the stairs.

Angel had also taken to him like a second shadow. Which would have been something that Doyle wouldn't have minded in the least, if only the vampire didn't seem at times more like a bodyguard and less like a buddy. Even when the two of them were alone, Angel was on guard, almost on constant watch for threats. In the beginning, Doyle had made jokes and tried to get him to relax, but the vampire would just force a smile, and remain tense with alertness.

Doyle wasn't sure what had spooked Angel, but it was obvious that something had, and in a big way. One thing that hadn't changed, however, was Angel's approach to communication, or, more accurately, his lack of one. Sometimes, though, it seemed like the vampire was about to say something, something that Doyle somehow _knew_ was important to the both of them, but in the end something else always held him back. This frustrated Doyle to no end, and what made it all the worse was knowing that he couldn't press too hard, less Angel withdraw completely into himself. Doyle was just selfish enough to want to keep Angel's nearly constant company, no matter how mysterious the motivation for it may be.

He could also admit that although it was a little suffocating, it was also somewhat nice to feel protected. To feel...valued. These were things the half-demon had felt so little of in his life. What's more, Doyle had caught Angel _looking_ at him on more then one occasion with an all together new expression on his pale face. It was a look of wistfullness blended with other emotions Doyle was still too afraid to name. Whenever their gazes would meet at these times, Angel would drop his dark eyes with an odd combination of shyness and guilt.

Angel wasn't the only one who had taken to strange behavior and lavished him with increased attention these last few weeks. Even now, Doyle knew that he had only a few hours to get some rest before Cordelia would either call or simply show up at his door to drag him off for coffee, dinner, a movie, shopping, or something of the sort. He had always has a weak spot for his princess since the day they had met, so the looks of disappointment she adopted whenever he tried to turn her down for these daily outings were a little too much for him to handle. So, no matter how tired he was feeling or how much he was in need of some time alone, he always caved in and went with her. It almost appeared that his months of casual pursuit were finally paying off, and any other time he would have jumped at the chance to get closer to her.

If only he himself wasn't feeling so, well, off.

It was hard to explain the feeling of wrongness that had begun to follow him around the same time as Angel's and Cordelia's attentions increased. The closest description he could come up with was it was as if he was living in a state of almost constant de ja vu. But that wasn't really right either. Instead of feeling like he had already experienced things, it was as if he was...detached. As if instead of living moments over again, he was watching himself and the events around him in a movie. The entire seemed tainted with this wrongness, a wave of discord he couldn't explain. The disturbing feeling only intensified around Angel and Cordelia.

And then there were the visions.

Mind-splitting flashes of scattered images were one thing. It was what he was use to, what he had come to expect. But lately, he started getting these short sparks of pain ripping through his temples, then flickers of _something_, then just as suddenly as it would start, it would fizzle out. These were not full visions, but merely fragments of one. They appeared to him more and more frequently as the weeks passed by, a chaotic pulse of eerie green light, then darkness, then nothing. They were always over too quickly for Doyle to make any sense of them.

When they had first started, he had told Angel and Cordelia about them. They had immediately exchanged anxious looks with one another. Then, they had made attempts to ease his mind. Cordelia had even gone far enough to crack some lame jokes about the 'wacky ol' TPTB', but Doyle could feel their very real concern. After a while, he had stopped mentioning them, figuring that there was very little his friends could do to help. Besides, it only increased their worry.

One thing was for certain, however, something was very wrong. And as each day went by, Doyle's suspicions that his friends knew what that something was grew. And for whatever reasons, they were doing everything they could to keep it from him. He didn't like it, but it seemed the only thing he could do now was wait for the truth to come out, and deal with it then. It was only a matter of time before that happened, and he would have to face whatever it was Angel and Cordelia were struggling to keep from him.

After all, his friends couldn't protect him forever.

*************

Angel was getting restless.

Glancing at the clock, he noted that it was well after five, and yet there had been no sign of either Doyle or Cordelia in the office all day. He knew that Doyle was out with Cordelia, and that in all likelihood they were probably hung up in some designer outlet store. He knew that at this very moment, Doyle was most likely sitting outside a dressing room somewhere doing his very best not to look bored, while Cordelia was changing into her 43rd outfit and asking for his opinion (as if Doyle was so keen on fashion), but the vampire couldn't help but worry just a little. And he was also growing more and more annoyed with a certain long-haired brunette who had repeatedly promised to get Doyle back to Ang--er, the office before midday, but who instead was repeatedly late because _apparently_ the Sunnydale school system did a horrible job teaching their students the fine art of how to tell time, and it was almost five-thirty, and where the hell were they?!?!?

"Well, I'm still not sure if that blue shade was the right one to go with. I mean, I liked the maroon one too, and that really looked nice against my skin. Didn't you think so, Doyle?"

"Of course, Princess. They both looked great on you."

*pause*

"Cordy, did you just hear a growl?"

The voices in the hallway finally reached the door, and in stepped a smiling Cordelia and a packaged-laden Doyle.

"Oh, hi Angel! Sorry we're a little late. The lines were just killer." Cordelia said as her eyes shifted from his slightly.

"I bet."

Her smile faltered, and she at least had the good grace to look guilty.

"Angel, if you're not too busy, would you mind giving me a hand?"

Angel looked as Doyle struggled not to drop the various shopping bags he was carrying, all courtesy of Cordelia Chase. He hurried to his friend's side and relieved him of most of his burden.

"Thanks, man. You're the best."

Angel turned just slightly to Cordelia. And smiled. Just slightly.

"So, Angel, any calls while we were out?" asked Doyle.

"No, it's still pretty slow in here."

Doyle coughed quietly before speaking.

"Well, if that's the case, then I think I'm just going to head back home a little early. I'm pretty tired, and I wouldn't mind the extra sleep."

"You can sleep here, then." Angel interrupted, "You can sleep on my couch downstairs."

Doyle looked at him incredulously.

"Your couch? Why would I sleep on your couch when I have a perfectly good bed back at my place?"

"I have a bed. A nice big bed. You can sleep in my bed. I don't mind. Not at all. Really." he quickly offered.

"Or on the _couch_" Cordelia reminded them rather loudly.

Both men turned to look at her after her outburst.

"I mean, I've sat on that couch before. It's a nice couch. Very coushie-soft. That's all I'm saying."

She crossed her arms in a defensive gesture, and stared stubbornly at the floor.

Doyle looked between the two of them for a moment before throwing his hands up.

"Okay, that's it! I have tried to be patient. I've asked nicely, pleaded, all but got down on my knees and begged for the two of you to tell me what's going on. But now I'm just plain fed up. The two of you don't want to clue me in to what's really going on, then fine. I'm walking out that door unless someone around here gives me a good reason not to!"

The rattling of the door knob startled all three of them.

Harry Doyle walked in and looked at the group gathered in the office. Her eyes rested on her husband.

"Hey, Francis."

Doyle shifted and swallowed.

"Harry."

Cordelia shook her head slightly as memories of this moment came rushing back. With all of the excitement of the last few weeks with having Doyle back, she had almost forgotten this meeting with Doyle's soon-to-be ex. Thinking back, this was the first time she had really begun to accept that there was more to Doyle then she had initially assumed. Her first real glimpse into his 'hidden depths'. Smiling slightly, she murmured to herself,

"Francis."

"That would be me. Allen Francis Doyle."

"I know." Then, catching her mistake, she rushed to add, "I, uh, saw it on some mail in the office!"

Doyle didn't shift his eyes from Harry, and continued as if he hadn't even heard her.

"Cordelia, this is Harry. My wife."

Angel and Cordelia sat back quietly and watched as Doyle went through the painful reunion with his estranged wife.

*************

Some time later, Angel and Doyle sat together in Angel's apartment. Angel remembered enough of this conversation to play along, gathering information about Doyle's past that he already knew.

"So you're demon side didn't present..."

"Until I was 21, and Harry and I, we were talking about having kids of our own. Huh, put a damper on the discussion, you can imagine."

"That's tough. I'm sorry." Angel replied, meaning it.

"It's probably better in the long run."

Doyle sighed deeply.

"I'm too much of a wild man to be the stay-at-home type anyway. You know?"

Angel winced in sympathy as he watched his friend's attempt at dealing with a situation that obviously hurt him to his core.

At that moment, Angel had to grip the edge of the table to keep from reaching over and kissing him, before the vampire was sure such a thing would be welcomed. There was too much at stake to risk scaring Doyle away when it was so important to keep him close. For now, he had to remind himself to only focus on keeping Doyle alive when the Scourge came.

There would be time for everything else, later. Angel would make sure of it.

"Hey, this Richard, looks like he'd give her a good life."

"Yeah."

"Seems like a nice friendly fellow, don't you think?"

Angel forced himself not to roll his eyes.

"Definitely friendly. Only -- he seemed a bit..."

Doyle jumped up.

"Exactly! I knew he was no good. And even thou we're ex, it's still my duty to watch over her, right? But I can't go trailing after her intended myself. I mean, it just wouldn't look right."

He leaned closer to Angel.

"Angel, you think you would..."

Angel wondered if Doyle had any idea that there was nothing in this world that the vampire would refuse him.

"Yeah. Just don't tell Cordelia. She'll wanna charge you."

Doyle slapped his shoulder, and grabbing Angel's untouched shot of whiskey. Angel watched the movement of the pale throat as the smooth amber liquid was swallowed.

*************

This time, when Angel went to confront Richard, he used the door.

Both Harry and Richard were startled when he walked into the restaurant kitchen.

"Angel?" Harry asked in shock.

Richard turn to try and hide his now demonic face, but Angel shook his head.

"I know you're a demon."

Harry immediately jumped to her fiance's defense.

"What are you doing here? Doyle put you up to this, didn't he? Man, years go by and nothing changes. Doyle decides what I need..."

Angel had the sudden urge to kick her.

"Now, now, it's understandable, Honey. He can't help but to make sure you're in good hands." Richard looked at Angel, "I can assure you..."

He was interrupted by Harry.

"Tell Doyle that I'm in the best hands. Richard and his family own this restaurant. They're --"

"Ano-movic demons." Angel finished.

He looked at Richard, and his eyes hardened as memories rose of what the man before him had in mind for his friend. He voice was laced with barely contained fury when he spoke.

"Tell her, Richard. Tell her what you're planning to do to Doyle."

Richard's eyes opened wide in shock.

"I--I don't know what you're talking about."

Angel's hand shot out, and in a flash, he had it wrapped tightly around Richard's throat. Harry shouted in surprise, but the vampire pulled the demon closer until their faces were only inches apart.

"Tell her about your clan's traditions. About how you're planning on slicing open Doyle's skull and ingesting his brain."

"That's insane!" Harry shouted. She looked at her gasping fiance with worry. "Richard.."

"You--you weren't suppose to know..."

At those words, Angel released his hold, and Richard stumbled back. Harry was right with him, shooting questions at him with every breath.

Needless to say, the engagement was once again broken.

*************

The next couple of days passed with Doyle in an exceptionally good mood over the break-up of Harry and Richard. Angel didn't go too deep into the reasons for the actual cancellation of the engagement, but merely told him that they separated due to 'irreconcilable differences'. It seemed enough for Doyle.

Despite this, the half-demon had went ahead and signed the divorce papers.

"It's still for the best." he had told them, "Harry and I are very different people now. We can maybe be friends, but I think too much has happened for us to be anything more."

This put Cordelia and Angel in exceptionally good moods as well. Which is why they weren't really prepared when the vision came.

They were sitting late one night in Angel's apartment, when Doyle doubled over as his vision struck. He looked up at Angel and swallowed hard, trying to think of a way to tell Angel that Buffy was in danger.

But Angel already knew; knew this time would come. A time when he would have to choose between two loves.

And really, there was no choice at all.

this series to be continued in
PART FOUR