Title: First And Only

author: Calandra

Feedback: yes please

Disclaimer: not mine

Spoilers: Bachelor Party

Distribution: Ask first

Notes: this is a response to Jamie's challenge to write a fanfic in the POV of a minor character

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ok, I can't beat Ellen's response to this challenge... especially since I just had to write it about Harry; I love her. (How could you not love someone who has the smarts to love Doyle? *g*) But here's my attempt

FIRST AND ONLY

Harry stepped out of her car and looked around her. She lifted her foot as a rat skittered past her. With a sigh, she closed the door and locked it. Every part of her being was yelling for her to leave, she didn't belong here. But she hadn't gotten to this point in her life by listening to the frightened little girl inside of her. The question was: did she really want to be at this place in her life?

She sighed again and started up the steps. She placed her feet carefully, afraid the whole thing would collapse under her weight at any moment. It was almost unthinkable that a human being could live in a place like this. But Angel had assured her that he did. Things certainly changed.

People slammed their doors as she passed, turning locks and an odd smell assaulted her. Again her instinct was to turn and run but she resisted it. She stopped in front of a door that looked no different than any of the others and, gathering all her courage, knocked.

"Go away, I'm busy." Came a voice from the other side of the door with a very bad American accent. At any other time she would have found it funny. Not today.

"Francis?"

There was a pause that seemed to stretch out for an eternity and she adjusted her flowery skirt uncomfortably. She was about to turn and leave when she heard the door unlock. It opened slowly and not quite enough for her to see inside the apartment itself.

He stood there silently, staring at the ground. She was almost thankful for that; if she looked into those blue eyes now, she was afraid she'd fall in love with him all over again and that was the last thing she needed. Instead she focused on his clothes. He was still wearing the same thing he had been wearing at the bachelor party; he must have slept in it. The line on his forehead was still slightly visible.

"Do you want to come in?" He finally asked, his voice raw with what, sleep? Pain? She wasn't sure; she wasn't even sure that she wanted to know. But it was the same familiar accent that seemed to caress her ear, that always made her nostalgic for Ireland.

Without looking at him directly, she stepped through the door that he held open for her. Ever the gallant, nothing could take that from him. She glanced around the room at the piles of unwashed clothes and empty bottles and at the dust bunnies that seemed to have a life of their own... not even the drastic turn his life had taken could take that away from him.

She cleared a few things off the couch and carefully sat down. The springs let out an alarming shriek but nothing happened so she relaxed as much as was possible under the circumstances. She stared down at her fingers nails, nowhere near as nice as Cordelia's perfectly manicured nails, trying to think as she heard Doyle settle across from her.

"So... Harry, the wedding's off, ya?"

She nodded rubbing the spot where the engagement ring had been just yesterday. She could still hardly believe everything that had happened. She finally looked up at him again. She found him rubbing at the line on his forehead.

Without thinking, she got up and started rubbing at the line with her shirt sleeve. "I'm sorry about all this Francis. I never thought that they would.... I never meant for you to be hurt."

He pulled back slightly and, finally realising what she was doing, Harry dropped her arms to her sides. She dropped to her knees and stared at him for a moment, really looked at him. For one brief instant, she thought it might work. She could throw herself into his arms and cry and everything would alright again.

One brief glance into his eyes, however, dissolved any such fantasies. Those eyes were as beautiful as ever but they weren't the same eyes; they held a world of pain that the young Allen Francis Doyle had never known, never dreamed of. They had both changed and she didn't know if it was for the better or for the worse.

She paused again. "I'm, um, staying in L.A. I got a job with a demon downtown; she runs a museum and needs someone who knows a lot about the different cultures of..."

He interrupted her, they both knew that her job wasn't what either of them wanted to talk about. "Was there... Did we ever have a chance? Maybe if we..."

She put her hand on his lips, stopping him in mid-sentence. "Don't. We both know that it wouldn't work; we don't fit Francis. I.... I always will, love you, you know that. But sometimes love isn't enough. It would be the same thing all over again; wonderful.... until the fighting starts."

He lowered his head and everything in her screamed for her to hold him again. She could make him smile by doing that, she had always loved his smile but that was only a temporary solution. So she resisted.

The silence was starting to get oppressive and, suddenly uncomfortable with her position, she slunk back to her place on the couch. Doyle who was usually ever ready with a witty comment, some flattery or a comforting thought was silent. She had never known him to be silent and it bothered her.

"Besides, what about Cordelia? She seems nice and...." He sighed loudly.

"This is where you tell me we can still be friends, right?" He punctuated his question with a harsh chuckle. A laugh that seemed to hurt him more then anything else. He still couldn't look at her. She could just guess at what he was thinking.

"Francis.... This will be better for both of us, you'll see. I'm sure that Cordelia will...." But she stopped when she saw the expression on his face. He had absolutely not hope in that regard. "I just need some time apart... find myself again."

He didn't answer, didn't so much as look up when she took his hand gently and squeezed it. She started to leave but turned to wave farewell.... he didn't react. He didn't even seem to be breathing anymore. With a sigh she closed the door behind her.

She didn't leave the building right away. She didn't know if her legs would be able to carry her down the stairs. She leaned against the wall, a shiver running through her entire body. She wondered briefly if he knew that this hurt her as much as it hurt him. She hoped not, he had enough to worry about.

As she headed back to her car she suddenly remembered a race of demon she had studied not long ago. Their females voluntarily avoided men until they were old enough to marry wisely. For, the first man they loved was the only one they loved for the rest of their life.

THE END