All's Well That Magick Fixes

They surrounded him en masse, and Doyle felt decidedly uncomfortable. 

In fact, he felt worse than a fish in a tank, or a puppy at the pet store where all those kids insisted on petting and touching. He stood in the middle of the protective circle, still clothed in Xander Harris’ clothes, back in LA, where everyone told him he’d been dead for the better part of two years, eyeing a witch he’d never met, two watchers who insisted they could be trusted, a green-skinned, red-horned demon with a flare for the Liberace Dress Code, and did he mention he was in the middle of a magickal protective circle?  

That wasn’t the worst part, no the worst was that he hadn’t a drink in hours and was desperately in need of one. Desperately.  

Frantically searching the dimmed lobby, Allan Francis Doyle sought the eyes of the woman he’d loved for the all-too brief time they’d known each other and wondered, again, if things would’ve been different if he’d lived. Ah, the first time, not this resurrection business.  

Oh, yes, and now they wanted to do some memory spell on him, were even now chanting something to that effect, in the hopes that he could remember where’d he been those two years. He didn’t remember and that was fine with him. It wasn’t, however, good enough for anyone (and everyone) else.  

Suddenly Tara shouted, “So mote it be!” And everything went dark.  

No, actually Doyle just passed out. When he came to scant minutes later, everyone was in the same positions, having been ordered by Tara not to come closer, and damn it all, he remembered.  

“Fuck,” he said and he stood once more, holding his head. “Next time, warn me, will ya?”  

Tara nodded a small smile on her face as they all anxiously looked at him. Oh, right, they wanted to know if the spell worked. Damn it did. And what was worse, he couldn’t lie about it. Then again, he really didn’t want to.  

“Well?” Cordelia asked, impatient to know the results of the spell. “Did it work?”  

Nodding slowly, Doyle said, “Yeah, princess, just give me a moment. There’s a lot of new stuff in my head.”  

It wasn’t in any order, these new memories, and Doyle tried to sift through them as best he could. “It was me who told you, Lorne,” Doyle confirmed, “About the spell. Lilah, I believe, had it cast because she saw the way Angel protected Cordelia. I guess she thought that that relationship could be manipulated into something more, I don’t know.” He rubbed his forehead, glancing at the two in question before continuing.  

“It wouldn’t have worked because, even spelled, the right ingredients weren’t there, sorry princess.” Cordelia looked more relieved than angry, though, but that could have been because of the metaphorical daggers Buffy was shooting in her direction. Angel lifted the slayer’s hand and kissed the palm, soothing her and Doyle smiled.  

There was something nagging him, but the former seer and, apparently, former higher being, couldn’t think of what it was. 

“Do you remember why you’re not there anymore?” Tara asked, “I mean do you know the reasons you’re back on earth, seemingly resurrected?”  

“No, that’s a little fuzzy. I remember a lot of the last years, but most of my memories center of Angel and Cordelia, and what they went through here.” Doyle lapsed into silence once more as his eyes rested on Buffy. In a flash, he remembered the last two years of the slayer’s life, but didn’t want to tell her. Slayer…he flashed to Faith, and remembered helping the other slayer through the long nights when only her memories kept her company.  

He should call her, talk to her, and find a way to get her out of prison, see if anyone knew of a way to do so, legally. The second slayer had a destiny to fulfill and prison wasn’t where that road lay. Faith had demons to kill and apocalypses to stop, a town to guard – Sunnydale because Doyle now remembered that Buffy’s destiny, as it always had, lay with Angel.  

He said nothing of that, however, simply let them all believe he continued to sort through his memories. He wasn’t Fate or Destiny, and couldn’t reveal other’s paths to them. In fact, that was what got him thrown out of that plane, anyway. He’d meddled once too many in the affairs of others. The whole three strike and you’re out charm.  

The first was when he’d discovered that Buffy was alive (resurrected, those damn friends of hers) and anchored Angel’s soul moments before Cordelia shared the joyous news with her boss.  

The second was to change the past few months from the moment Buffy jumped off the tower in Dawn’s place to the moment she returned, all her memories intact. In reality Dawn disappeared, her job as The Key finished. But Doyle knew that Buffy genuinely loved her sister that Dawn was created from Buffy and that added an extra layer to their relationship. If Dawn wasn’t back when Buffy returned, then that would’ve destroyed the slayer, mocked everything she’d given up. So he reversed a few things, cheated time and death – not knowing it’d become a pattern – and given Dawn non-mystical life for Buffy to return to.  

The third was when he told Lorne how to break the spell over Angel and Cordelia…  

Wait a minute, Doyle thought, his head coming sharply up to look at his vampire friend. Soul? Curse? Anchoring? “Holy Mary, Mother of God,” Doyle breathed, “I can’t believe I forgot that!”  

He was staring so intently at Angel that he didn’t realize the panicked looks the rest of the room gave him. Buffy clutched, frantic, at Angel’s hand as the vampire stared with carefully blank eyes at his friend. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been good, nothing of his life, with the glowing exception of Buffy, ever turned out good.  

Still, Angel controlled his voice as he asked as nonchalantly as he could, “What’s that, Doyle?”  

Gulping and wishing mightily for a drink, Doyle answered his friend with the best news Angel could hope to hear. Well, second best news, as the fact that Buffy stood at his side took the obvious first place.  

“I did it; I can’t believe they didn’t fry me in boiling oil! And I can’t believe I forgot! Of all the things,” Doyle muttered, still in shock over his recently remembered news. “Damn, I’m sorry, Angel, man, if I’d have known sooner, or, well, remembered maybe. Then all this, wow, months, and I never…hey, but I did tell you! You stubborn fool! Only you could rationalize yourself out of the second best news to be had.”

Righteously angered by now, Doyle crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Angel. It took him a moment to realize that the absolute silence lying thick over the room was not because of his shocking revelation, but because they had no idea what that shocking revelation was. Oops.  

“Doyle!” Cordelia shouted in a high-pitched breathless voice. Just because she wasn’t in love with Angel didn’t mean that she wanted anything horrible to happen to him. He deserved happiness, just not, you know, HAPPINESS.  

“Oh, right. Sorry, Angel,” Doyle apologized. “It seems that once I knew that Buffy’s friends were pulling her out of heaven and back here, I figured that it’d be safest all around if Angelus couldn’t make an unscheduled appearance. So, in my first strike of the round, I anchored your soul so you couldn’t lose it no matter how much happiness you experienced.”  

Doyle looked into the still silent room and elaborated as much as he could. There were things he still couldn’t remember, but that didn’t matter now. “Ah, it seemed that the Powers were afraid that if your soul was anchored, or if you knew about it, then you’d stop working for them, spurn your redemption and go off to, well, be happy with Buffy. They didn’t see the big picture, or rather, they didn’t understand you the way I did.”  

“You…” Buffy trailed off and cleared her throat. .”  

 

That last bit of doubt floated away as if it never existed in the light of this news. Angel hadn’t lost his soul because Doyle took the initiative, saw what probably would happen once Angel heard the news, and simply fixed the problem?  

“Anchored?” Buffy tried again, but her brain was trying to wrap itself around this newest news and she couldn’t get past the part that told her she and Angel didn’t have to be as careful as they’d thought. Or careful at all actually.  

Angel stared at his friend, silent. He blinked once, but other than that gave no indication he was still cognizant of his surroundings. Anchored, his soul was anchored. Doyle defied the powers and anchored his soul because he knew the consequences of even the smallest bit of happiness where Buffy was concerned.  

“I need to sit,” Angel murmured, and did just that, carefully lowering himself to the floor and pulling Buffy with him, as both refused to let go of the other’s hand. He numbly felt Buffy’s arms wrap around his neck, her face buried in the crock of his neck, and her tears on the side of his throat.  

“Doyle…” Too choked with emotion to go on, Angel simply looked at the half demon standing in the protective circle. He didn’t know what to say, words escaped him. The gift Doyle gave him was so overwhelming that Angel didn’t even know where to begin. “Thank you,” he whispered, still holding Buffy close to him, burying his face in her hair as he whispered to his love.  

She laughed and nodded, holding him tighter as everyone looked on. No one saw Lilah’s thunderous look upon hearing the news. All her plans, all her hard work, her sacrifices, her…all for nothing. If a former higher being anchored the soul of the only vampire with one, then there was no way she could take that away. Research was involved, because there might be one, but Lilah wasn’t about to hold her breath.  

Of all the beings to break the rules, it had to be one closely associated with Angel. Just her rotten luck. How was she going to explain this to the senior partners?  

She was doomed.  

Back inside, Doyle told those still listening of Wolfram & Hart’s plan to bring back Angelus and how he’d told Lorne, via the dream and the only one in the LA group to possess magickal knowledge, how to break it. It wasn’t, Doyle insisted, that the spell would have worked, but once Angel and Cordelia…ah, consummated it, the false feelings of love would be permanent.  

An hour passed, then another, and by the time the spell ended, Doyle was exhausted. He’d told everything he remembered that he felt he could share. The memory crystal captured it all for further dissecting, as the moment he stepped out of the protective circle Doyle knew he’d forget once again.  

Standing, he looked from the timer to Tara and when she nodded encouragingly, gingerly stepped out of the circle. Another wave of vertigo washed through him and he stared for a bit around the room. He still remembered bits and pieces, even though he wasn’t sure he was supposed to, but Doyle didn’t care. From the looks on everyone’s faces, it didn’t seem as if he’d preached doom and gloom, so that was a good step, right?  

“Hey, has anyone seen Angel or Buffy?” Fred asked, looking around the lobby for the vampire and his slayer as Cordelia embraced Doyle in a hug that looked as if she didn’t plan on letting him go anytime soon.  

“Oh,” Dawn said in a voice that tried for longsuffering. She failed miserably because she couldn’t erase the broad smile on her face at her sister’s happiness. And a happy Buffy made for a less strict Buffy. “She and Angel went upstairs ages ago. I think the bit about the anchoring of the soul finally sunk in and they went to test that out. Repeatedly.”  

“So I take it that all went well?” Doyle asked once Cordelia released him. He’d heard what both Fred and Dawn said and wondered what news he’d given his friend to make the couple disappear before the end of the spell.  

“I’ll fill you in later,” Cordelia promised, “But while you were a higher being, you fixed Angel’s soul. No more clause, no more Angelus, I say we celebrate.” She smiled at the man beside her and it was clear to everyone that she meant just the two of them.

“All’s well,” Lorne reiterated.  

“Yeah, that I apparently fixed,” Doyle laughed as he took Cordelia’s hand and led her up the stairs. They had plans, too, and neither wanted to be late for their first official date.  

“Or that magick fixes,” Dawn said as she helped Tara clean up from the spell. “Without Tara’s spell,” she went on, “We’d never know that Angel’s soul was anchored and that Angelus could never return. You wouldn’t have remembered, and I highly doubt that the Powers would’ve bothered to mention it to any of us. They don’t seem the type to share.”

Doyle laughed as he followed Cordelia back to her hotel room, to gather her things. Their date, Cordelia decided, consisted of buying him new clothes. And maybe, she smiled, if she played her cards right, taking them off him as soon as they returned to her apartment.  

Gunn sighed and shook his head, looking around the rest of the group. “Anyone up for pizza and a movie?”  

Willow, Xander, Dawn, Tara, and Fred nodded. Giles looked more hesitant. “We do have to get back to Sunnydale,” he reminded his group, “And Dawn I believe we have to discuss whether you’re staying here, or returning with us.”  

“Aww, Giles, now? It’s late; can’t we talk about it in the morning?” Dawn begged, wondering if Buffy would let Dawn stay in LA with her, as it seemed she wasn’t leaving Angel’s side anytime soon.  

“I agree with Dawn,” Wesley said, “We’ll discuss everything in more depth in the morning, and I, for one, am starving.” He glanced at Giles and saw the older man’s nod of surrender. “Gunn, is there anything good playing in the theater?”  

The group walked out without a backwards glance, leaving the two newly reunited couples to fend for themselves. Well, it wasn’t like they were going to have any problems with that. Cordelia walked down the stairs with Doyle in tow, a silly smile on her face at the prospect of getting to know the man once again.  

Buffy and Angel didn’t get out of their bed for three days. Food was left at the door, and everyone else stayed as far away from their room as possible as the sounds the couple made tended to travel. The couple didn’t care, and by the time they reemerged Tara and Willow had already found a lovely soundproofing spell.  

They cast it immediately.

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