From: SpikeGrrl1@aol.com
TITLE: If I Could Wake Up
AUTHOR: Ragna (Obsessive-Compulsive Spike)
RATING: PG
PART OF: Farewell Letters (1/8)
CLASSIFICATION: Cordelia/Doyle musings
SPOILERS: All of "Angel"
DISTRIBUTION: Slay This, other sites with my fic up. Everyone else just keep
my name on it and let me know.
ARCHIVED AT: http://www.angelfire.com/de/hellmouth/myfic.html
DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If
you do, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kazui Sandollar, FOX and the WB own it or
them. I'm just holding Spike hostage. Carolyn's got Xander, May's got Oz,
Cathryn's got Ethan, Shelly has Angel, and Gillian has Doyle. You may see
them by appointment only. Each title contains a lyric from Four Star Mary's
                    "Run."
FEEDBACK: Sorry I'm not home right now I'm walking in the spiderwebs so leave
a message and I'll call you back...in other words, I want it. Don't care if
it's onlist or not.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: A new series! Like I don't have enough commitments, right?
Well, since a sort-of new character will be joining the Angel cast soon, and
a lot of people aren't happy about it, I thought I'd write this fic series,
more to help me get over Doyle's passing ::sob:: Hope you enjoy...
                    ~*~*~*~*~*~
"Officer, it had all been on a dare. I promise!"

The cop shook his head. "Miss, I'll still have to take you down to the
station." He cocked his head to the side. "Detective Jackson will probably be
the one to talk to you..."

"Why?"

Both the woman and the cop turned when they heard the voice to the side. The
woman's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"No...it can't be..."

***

When Cordelia came too, she blinked. That was the first thing she did.

She was in her apartment, and her ghostly roommate was flipping through the
channels. Sitting up, she muttered, "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

She stopped, craning her neck to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, that's all."

"But you can't! It's not possible!" She shook her head, shutting her eyes.

"It is, actually." He stood up, walking to the TV and shutting it off. "I'm
sorry...I should have called..."

"No, you just shouldn't be here." She stood up and looked Buffy's former
Watcher in the eye. "Go away."

Wesley sighed, picking up his jacket. "Fine. I'll leave."

Cordelia watched as he walked to the door. He looked very different; gone was
the suit and tie, to be replaced by jeans and a button down shirt. His hair
was slightly longer, and he wasn't wearing glasses.

Before she knew what was happening, the word was out of her mouth.

"Wait."

Wesley paused at the door. "Yes?"

"How did you know I lived here?"

Wesley grinned slightly. "My new boss told me."

"Your new boss?"

"Angel."

***

Cordelia was livid. Extremely livid. Walking into the office the next morning
and slamming the door after her, she yelled as loudly as possible, "ANGEL!"

"Ow!", followed by a thud, could be heard from the bathroom. Cordelia strode
right into the bathroom, glancing down at Angel, who was rubbing the back of
his head.

"How could you?" she asked coldly.

"What?"

"Why did you hire Wesley? Doyle's only been gone for a week, and you're
already replacing him?" Fury showed in her facial features, her stance, her
entire being. "Didn't he mean anything to you?"

"He meant--"

"He gave up his life for you. For *all* of us. And this is what happens?"

Angel stood up. "Cordelia, I--"

The slap was strong. Cordelia had learned how to hit and punch and slap by
watching Buffy. "He meant a lot to me." She glared at Angel, a look of
despair and pain in her eyes. "I hate you. And I quit."

Cordelia walked out, bumping into Wesley on the way out.

"What's wrong with her?" Wesley asked Angel.

"She thinks I'm replacing Doyle with you."

"Who was Doyle?"

"He...well, let's just say he meant a lot to her. A lot more than I realized."

                    ***

Cordelia could barely hold back her tears as she unlocked the door to Doyle's
apartment. He'd written a will, after that last vision, leaving everything of
value to her. She just hadn't had the strength to go get the items yet.

The ghost, hidden in the corner, watched her pick up a few of Doyle's
things...clothing, things he kept close to him. The ghost had to restrain
himself to keep from going towards her, to tell her things would be okay.

Much as he wanted to help her, she had to find the letter by herself.

And the ghost kept watching as she picked up his jacket, slipped it on, and
glanced at the dresser. Looking back at her handwritten and tearstained copy
of his will, she opened the dresser drawer to look for one of the other
things he said she could have that would be there.

And the ghost smiled sadly as she picked up the long note instead.

***

"I wish I could tell you this in person."

Cordelia sat on her bed, glancing at the first line of the letter she had
just opened. She'd been home, the home he'd helped her find, for over four
hours. And she had been afraid to read this letter.

The tears started to form again as she realized he knew he was going to die
that night. With shaking hands, she took the letter and began to read it.

"I wish I could tell you this in person. I've always been to scared. Maybe
it's because you intimidated me a bit, maybe it's because I've only felt this
strongly about one other person in my life. But I know I'm going to die soon,
and I want you to know some things."

As she re-read the first of many pages, she could almost hear Doyle saying
this to her, and she pulled the jacket closer to her, even though the room
was warm.

Each page talked about something different. But right now, she couldn't bear
to read more. She set the letter down, shut her eyes, and laid her head down
on the pillow, slowly drifting off to sleep.

She wanted to sleep and never wake up. Never.

Because life hurt too much.

***

Doyle's ghost sat in the corner, watching her sleep. Things were going to be
different; she needed to accept his death and move on.

And she needed to accept things about herself, and he was going to help.

Even if he was dead.

TITLE: And See Another Day
PART OF: Farewell Letters (2/8)

~*~*~*~*~*~
Cordelia was awakened by a phone call later that evening. One she'd half been
expecting.

"We need to talk."

"Angel...leave me alone. I quit, remember?"

"I'm not trying to replace Doyle."

"Sure you're not." Cordelia started to hang up the phone.

"No, I'm not. Wesley was sent here."

Halfway to the receiver, Cordelia stopped, slowly pulling the phone back to
her ear. "Why?"

"He's supposed to help."

"To help," Cordelia spat out. "How?"

"The Council thinks there might be a Slayer here who needs training. He
needed a job. I gave him one."

She shook her head. "I really don't want to talk to you now."

"I understand. Will you at least come back to work? We need you here."

"I'll think about it,' she said quietly, hanging up. Reaching to shut off the
light, her arm brushed the letter. Tentatively reaching down, she picked up
the letter and began where she'd left off.

***

"I know I'm going to die.

In the vision, I saw more than usual. I saw my own death. Normally, I see
what's going to happen if nothing's done. But this time, I saw what was
really going to happen. It scared me to the core.

And it gave me the nerve to try to tell you the truth. As I'm writing this, I
don't know if I have or not...if I haven't, then I'm sorry. If I have, I'm
glad you know. I wanted to tell you sooner...

At the restaurant, when Harry's fiancé tried to eat my brains, you almost
knocked me out. I don't even think you realized it was me you were hitting.
What am I saying? Of course you didn't know. But that was what really made me
want to tell you the truth.

I tried this afternoon, when we were sitting on the stairs with our coffees,
but the damn vision. I've always hated them, ever since they started, but as
long as they happened I knew I had a purpose, a reason for living.

Until I met you, Princess.

You're so...different. But not in a bad way, not at all. You have spunk, you
have a strong will to survive, you have a mixed up sense of priorities, but
that just makes you more appealing.

And you just made me want to wake up every morning.

Please, never doubt you're special. I always thought you were."

***

Cordelia took some deep breaths before picking up the phone, dialing an
almost long forgotten phone number with shaking hands. She hoped he would
pick up...

"Hello?"

"Hi. Is Xander there?"

"No."

"Oh."

"I can take a message, though."

"Uh...it's okay."

A door opened in the background, and the person on the phone said, "Wait. He
just came in." There was a shuffle, and Cordelia waited patiently.

"Anya?"

Cordelia stopped breathing, only for a second. "No..."

"Cordelia? what's going on?"

"Not much. I just had a question."

"What? Is there a demon loose in LA? Giles is better with this stuff..."

"No, nothing like that. It's stupid, really."

"What is it?"

"Do you think I'm special?" she asked quietly, gripping the letter.

There was a long pause. "Of course you are. Why'd you ask?"

"No real reason, I just needed to know. Thanks."

"No problem," Xander said before she hung up. Looking at the next letter, she
debated reading it over sleeping, and decided going back to sleep was going
to win out. Setting the letter on her nightstand, she turned off the light
and fell asleep in her clothes and his jacket.


TITLE: If I Could Fake
PART OF: Farewell Letters (3/8)
 
~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning was hard, and as Cordy got ready she looked in the mirror
and repeated her new mantra:

"Doyle knew I'm special. He knew it."

It made her feel only a bit better, but not too much, because she knew he
wouldn't be there to see her that morning. He'd never see her again.

She picked up his jacket, which she'd only taken off long enough for a quick
shower and a change of clothes, and slipped the letter into the pocket.

The leather smelled like him. She'd picked up the aftershave he'd worn from
his apartment, and going against all fashion protocols dabbed a little on her
pulse points. She didn't care if people gave her strange looks; she wanted
him to be close.

And if that meant doing things that her very nature screamed wasn't right,
she was going to do it.

***

Wesley looked up in surprise. "We didn't expect you in today."

"Well, I'm here. Get out from behind my desk." She stood looking down at him.
"Now."

Wesley stood up and moved to the side, allowing her to pass. "Let me get your
jacket."

"No!" she said sharply, then calmly, she repeated the word. "I don't want to
take it off."

"But it's warm in here."

"Wesley," Angel said as he came out of the office, "drop it. She isn't going
to take it off."

Wesley nodded, sitting down on one of the shabby couches. "May I ask why?"

"You can ask, but you're not getting an answer," Cordelia said, not looking
up from the invoices she'd pulled from her drawer.

Wesley shook his head. "Never mind then," he said, a bit hurt.

***

At lunch, Cordelia tentatively walked over to the stairs.

The stairs where Doyle might have told her the truth, had the vision not
struck. She shut her eyes, trying not to break down again, wondering why
she'd gone there.

It was as if something was guiding her.

She sat down where he had sat, carefully removing the letter from the jacket
pocket.

***

"I hated lying. I think it's one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do.

Remember one of those times when we'd been talking, and you said how you
hated demons? I thought I'd had a chance at getting to know you until that
moment. But you didn't know, so don't think you're to blame.

The lying cost me some time. I could have told you earlier, maybe you could
have seen past the demon part of me, maybe cared for me, maybe loved me...
Enough with the maybes, right, Princess? There's a lot of things that aren't
going to happen, and it's my fault.

I know you at least liked me, just a bit. I don't think I've felt as needed
as when you talked to me after the whole thing with Harry, except maybe when
I was teaching. Most of me thought you were just telling it to me to get me
to stop moping, but a part of me hoped you were speaking about the truth.

The truth...I hope that's what it was."

***

Cordelia smiled, running her fingers over his handwriting, tracing the
carefully written letters. She barely noticed someone standing behind her
until his shadow fell on the paper.

"Are you okay?"

Cordelia smiled up to Angel, a tiny smile. "Sit down."

Angel sat next to her, looking at his feet. "What were you reading?"

"A letter."

"From Doyle?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"You know, I saw him write part of it. He locked himself in my office for
over an hour trying to write it. I asked what was going on, and he said he
couldn't get the words right."

"He's got them right so far," Cordelia said quietly. Tears started to form,
and she quickly wiped them away. "I didn't realize he cared so much."

"If it helps, I think he fell in love with you at first sight."

"Then why didn't it happen for me?" she asked, looking at Angel, tears
threatening to fall again.

"I...I don't know," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. "I really
don't know."

"Angel?"

"Yes?"

"Hands off the jacket."

He couldn't help but smile just a little as he removed his arm. "Sorry."

TITLE: All The Lies I'd Never Said
PART OF: Farewell Letters (4/8)
~*~*~*~*~*~
She dreamed about his last moments every night. It wasn't something she could
help. And every night she would wake up in a sweat, her pulse racing and a
scream escaping her lips.

This night, almost a week after she started reading the letter, she couldn't
sleep for more than an hour or two without dreaming and screaming.

She turned on the lamp on the night stand, reaching over for the next part of
the letter.

She hadn't read any more since the time in the stairwell; it had just been
too hard. Not only could she not bear to read anymore, they'd gotten many new
clients, most of them demons who has heard about Doyle's sacrifice.

She got up, going into the kitchen with the note in her hand, making herself
some tea. Once she had teased Giles about drinking it all the time; now she
found it was a comfort.

***

The tea steeped in her mug from the office. It had been one of Doyle's, and
she didn't want to leave it there in his apartment. It stayed with her. It
was simple; dark blue with a black rim, nothing fancy.

She pulled the tea bag out, tossing it in the sink as she left the kitchen,
making her way to the living room and her favorite chair. Opening the letter,
she traced more of his writing before beginning to read again.

"Princess, there are a million things I've done wrong. Some of them you
obviously know, most of them you could only guess about. And I was an awful
liar, too. There's a lot you don't know about me, so I thought I'd tell you.

My full name really is Alan Francis Doyle. My mother was human; my father,
who I never met, was a Brachen. Basically, a spiky green demon with visions.
Lovely, no? I didn't even know I was half demon till I was twenty-one.

I grew up in Ireland, which is a beautiful country. Ask Angel about it
sometime. It was hard...basically me and my mother, when she wasn't hitting
the whiskey bottle. She was a kind woman, though. I didn't get the impression
she knew how to be a mother, but at least she tried.

I started to travel, and I went all over the world. It was an interesting
time in my life. You know Harry, you know about that part of my life. I loved
her very much...I still do, in a way. Now, though, it's more in a friendly
way. It was all my fault the marriage fell apart, and then everything else
fell apart too.

I lost my job. I really loved my students, and I loved teaching. Maybe if I'd
settled down, later, I could have gone back to teaching. I would have liked
that. But I started drinking, something I don't highly recommend. I gambled,
I went into debt...suffice to say, I ruined my life.

And then the visions started being even more specific, having meaning behind
them, and one of the first was of Angel. And of you. So I did get a sort of
second chance. Maybe I should have done a lot of things differently; I still
would have died, maybe just later."

The bleak and abrupt way that part of the letter ended almost brought
Cordelia to tears again.

"I can't...keep...crying," she said to herself through clenched teeth,
shutting her eyes again. She opened them, then noticed water marks on the
paper. Not fresh, either; rather, they'd been dried quite a while.

He cried on the letter, she thought to herself, and she started to wonder why.

***

The chair had provided her with her first decent night of sleep in almost two
weeks. The ghost crept over towards her, pulling on a blanket. In the morning
she'd probably think her poltergeist roommate had done it.

He couldn't sit, and was always standing. But he never felt tired. Not at
all. He was also bewildered.

He remembered the light, remembered their first and last kiss, remembered
punching Angel out, remembered jumping on the contraption to save
everyone...remembered the pain.

The blinding pain had coursed through his body, until the pain numbed him so
much that it went away.

And then there was darkness.

And just as suddenly, he was on the deck, watching Angel lead a distraught
Cordy away from the ship. And then he appeared in the office, watching them.
At first he thought he was still going to be helping them.

And then when Angel drove her home, he was there, and he watched her. And he
hadn't left her side since.

But now...he was afraid she would never move on, and he was pretty sure that
was why he was always watching her. To help her.

As she had helped him.

TITLE: How Would I Know You
PART OF: Farewell Letters (5/8)
~*~*~*~*~*~
"You're very beautiful. I can't see why the only men who were really
interested in you were arrogant, self-righteous bastards. And you honestly
don't deserve that.

You deserve someone who knows you're special, who doesn't just look at what
you look like, but who you really are. Someone who understands the way you
live and the things you have to do.

In all honesty, you need me."

Cordelia smiled slightly, looking up at the door to see Kate standing there.

"Hey," Kate said quietly. "Angel called. Said he knew something about a case
I'm on. Is he in his office?"

Cordelia nodded, pointing to the door.

"I heard about your friend," she said quietly, sitting down across from her
desk. "I'm sorry."

"Who told you?"

"Angel."

Cordelia looked up and away, towards his office. "You two are talking a lot
these days."

"It's because I know what he's going through. My partner...he was my close
friend. He was shot saving my life. And this was six or seven years ago."

Cordelia nodded again, rubbing her temples. "But you moved on, right?"

"It took me a while, but yes, I did." They both looked up as the office door
opened and Wesley walked out, Angel following him. Angel introduced Wesley
and Kate before inviting Kate into his office, all of which happened with
Cordelia scarcely noticing.

She was too immersed in the rest of that part of the letter.

"If you've ever wondered how I knew you, even through all the teasing and the
put downs you used, I'll tell you know.

I saw you with Angel, doing the simple things that you normally do to fight
demons. I watched you with the day to day things you did, and the way you
acted when your attention was devoted to something other than fashion.

It's the reason I could see the slightest changes in you, whether it was
those new shoes you wore that Angel failed to notice or if you wore a new
color lipstick.

I liked you best when you were simple. Not too much make-up, hair straight
and pulled back with a simple headband, jeans and a simple shirt. Normally
when you dressed like that, things were the best between us.

And that's how I choose to remember you."

TITLE: If I Had Turned Away
PART OF: Farewell Letters (6/8)
.
                    ~*~*~*~*~*~
Cordy opened the letter again, reading it slowly as everyone was out of the
office. She was totally alone, and felt no need to rush, just a burning
curiosity to find out what else Doyle had to say.

"I wish I'd had more time with you.

Sometimes I think about what it might have been like if we'd never met. I'd
probably be gambling still, up to my ears in debt and scared out of my mind.
I'd probably still be alive, too, but it might have been just for a short
time.

I think if I'd turned away, I probably would not have had much happiness left
in my life. I wouldn't have had anything to live for. And that's the worst
kind of life to live, in my opinion.

I know I might seem to be waxing poetic here, but this is all the truth, at
least how I see it. You knew so little about me, and I wanted to share.

I just wish I could have learned more about you."

***

"Harry called, Cordy. She wanted to talk to you," Wesley said, handing
Cordelia a slip of paper.

"Thanks," she said, not taking the paper, concentrating on the new demon
research needed for their current case.

"Cordelia," Wesley said impatiently, dropping the note on her desk.
"Cordelia...Cordelia!"

"What?!?" she snapped, looking up at him.

"I'm absolutely tired of this. You pay no attention to what I'm doing to
help, you spend all your time mourning over this dead demon--"

"His name was Doyle, and he was only half demon," Cordelia said coldly.

"Whatever. The point is--"

"No. The point is I don't want you here. We don't need your help."

"At this point, I don't care. I'm needed here, maybe not by you, but I'm
still needed here. You, on the other hand, aren't."

"Who's to say she's not needed?" Angel said, walking out of his office.

"It doesn't matter," Cordelia said, putting the open letter in her purse.
"I'm going home."

"Cordy, wait..." Angel began, only to have the door shut on his words.

TITLE: What That Would Show You
PART OF: Farewell Letters (7/8)

~*~*~*~*~*~
Cordelia slammed the door behind her, furious at Wesley. How *dare* he! He
had no right to say those...those...things to her!

She grabbed the first thing of food she could find in the freezer, a pint of
Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia, and sat down on the couch, setting her purse
on the coffee table next to it.

The letter fell out, but she scarcely noticed it, grabbing the remote and
turning on the TV to something loud.

There was one page left to the letter, and after cable got boring she put in
the closest video and pressed play.

Only to see Doyle staring right back at her.

She listened to the tape as she read the last part of the letter, avoiding
looking at the image in front of her and just listening to his beautiful
voice.

***

"Do you believe in love at first sight?

I didn't, honestly, till I saw you at Angel's office that first day you were
there. You looked, no pun intended, like an angel. A dark-haired angel. And I
fell in love with you at that very moment.

It's stupid, I know, but I believe in it.

Cordelia...I love you.

Love, Doyle."

She re-read those few lines over and over again as she listened to his voice
again, setting down the letter and finally forcing herself to look at the
screen.

She looked up just in time to see him smile.

***

The next day, Cordelia called Harry back. After a few moments of tense
conversation, they finally opened up about the reason she had called in the
first place.

"I miss him," Cordelia said.

"I miss him too."

"But you got to know him more than I did, Harriet. I mean, you two got
married..."

"It wasn't all that great," Harry said, a note of sadness creeping into her
voice.

"But you still had the chance. I didn't even get that."

"And you feel cheated."

"Yeah."

"Cordy...it's all right. You were cheated. The man I fell in love with was
wonderful, and I'm sure he could have been that way again."

Cordelia nodded, suppressing a yawn. "He might have been."

"Not getting much sleep?"

"No, not really. Nightmares..."

"About what?"

"When...he...his..."

"Say no more. I know what you're talking about. Cordy, I have to go, much as
I hate to, but feel free to call anytime, all right?"

"All right." She hung up, looking at the phone. Sighing, she turned the VCR
back on, popped in the video of Doyle, and sat back to watch, clutching his
jacket close to her.

And not crying.

TITLE: I Never Could Have Said
PART OF: Farewell Letters (8/8)
~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been exactly a year since he'd died. So many things had changed.

After his outburst in the office, Cordelia had finally started being civil to
Wesley. It had been hard, but they'd developed a solid working relationship,
and that was all it was. Well, now is was becoming a friendship, but that was
going slowly.

Angel and Kate had started to date, taking things exceedingly slowly, and
even Wesley had found a person to fall for.

But Cordy was still alone, and she spent her time at home avoiding the many
people who were interested in her. She had grown more beautiful every day,
even though she looked older than her nineteen years.

She'd changed out of the jeans and button down shirt, one of his, that she'd
worn when she visited his grave, slipping into a simple black dress. Angel
was bound and determined to honor Doyle's memory, and honor it well.

They were going to meet at The Key Club, where Dingoes Ate My Baby was
playing. She really didn't want to go. She just wanted to go home and cry.
Slipping on his leather jacket, she headed out into the night.

***

 [If I could remember
A face I'd never seen
Deep in these embers
That glow on endlessly
What would they tell me
If others had lost their faith
What would they sell me
If we had lost our way]

Cordelia looked at the shot of whiskey in front of her. "I don't want it,"
she said, pushing it back towards Wesley.

"It's tradition."

"I don't want it."

Wesley sighed. "All right." He took the whisky and turned to the group of
people clustered around. "To the friends who never leave."

"To the friends who never leave," everyone chorused, raising their shot
glasses in the air. Everyone except Cordelia, who just mumbled the toast.

Angel sighed, raising his glass. "To the true hero."

"To the true hero."

Cordelia looked at the table, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and pouring a
shot. She looked at the glass, seemingly measuring it. Finally, she raised it
in the air.

"To the person I just recently realized I'd loved."

The others remained silent, except Angel, who nodded and said, "To Doyle."

The others got sad grins on their faces and added "To Doyle!"

 [If I could wake up
And see another day
If I could fake all
The lies I'd never said
How would I know you
If I had turned away
What that would show you
I never could have said]

The door opened almost suddenly, and the bartender barked out. "Shut the
door!"

"All right, all right," a voice with a familiar accent said. Even over the
din of bar patrons and the Dingoes song, Cordelia just knew that voice. Or
thought she did. Trying not to get her hopes up, she turned back to her
friends.

Occasionally, she looked around, wondering if it was a figment of her
imagination or just wishful thinking. The conversation turned away from
toasts as the others drifted off in pairs onto the makeshift dance floor.

She was standing up and on her way to the bathroom when she heard the voice
again.

"Think I might get my jacket back soon?"

Turning around, she saw him, right there. Just as she remembered him when he
kissed her.

Alive. Breathing. Handsome as ever.

"Doyle?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded. "Princess..."

 [And we've got to run
Deep through these forests
Or hang upon the hill
I've got a wish
Something to promise
But, no I never will]

He didn't finish the sentence as she threw herself into his arms, crushing
her lips to his and almost knocking them off balance. He held her tightly,
winding his hands in her hair.

The second kiss was as good as the first.

He pulled away, catching his breath. "Don't you want to know--"

"Not right now. Right now..." she said, running her free hand through his
hair. "We need to tell everyone you're back. And you really are back, right?"

He nodded. I wasn't exactly a ghost, for some reason. I think The Powers were
making life hard for everyone. But I was watching you."

"You did?"

He nodded, pulling her onto the floor and wrapping his arms around her waist.
She nestled her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him.
"You smell the same," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

He smiled, also shutting his eyes. They swayed to the beat of the music
briefly, content to just be together.

 [If I could walk out
And see another sky
If I could talk about
The heavens that had cried
How I would love you
And never walk away
How I would show you
I've never had to pray]

It was Angel who spotted him first.

"Doyle?" he asked, letting go of Kate and moving towards the two of them.

"Angel, go away," Cordelia said, lifting her head up. "I want alone time."

"Is it really him?" Kate asked, moving behind Angel and grasping her hand.

"Well, I know that Angel saw Buffy a year ago, then asked the Oracle to
swallow the day. And I know the last thing I said to Cordelia was about me
being a demon, and wondering if she could love me."

Cordelia gripped him tighter, and kept her head on his shoulder.

 [And we've got to run
Deep through these forests
Or hang upon the hill
I've got a wish
Something to promise
But, no I never will]

"How'd you get back?" Angel asked.

Doyle looked at his friends, then back to Cordelia. "She said she loved me.
And someone up there was paying attention. And I got sent back here."

"That was it?"

"Does there have to be an answer, Angel?" Cordelia said. "Look, if this is
temporary...could you give me some time with him?"

Angel started to say something but Kate pulled him away. "She's right."
Finally, he nodded and they left.

Doyle wrapped Cordelia in his arms again. "I won't leave again," he said
quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He kissed the top of her head, and
they just stood holding there, making up for lost time together.

 [If I could walk out
no, I'd never lie...]