Roomies

Disclaimer: The characters of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: the Series Universes (Angel, Cordelia, Spike, Xander, Doyle, etc…) are the creation of Joss Whedon and are, therefore, the property of him, Mutant Enemy (Grr, Arg), and 20th Century Fox (and all other affiliated parties). No money is gained from this work as it is created purely for the enjoyment of others. Please do not sue.

AN: Constructive criticism and friendly fedback are always appreciated. Flames will be used to warm my toes.


~Part 24: Listless Nights~


Angel sat at his desk with a book in hand. It was one of the few books from his soulless stage in unlife that he actually enjoyed and hadn’t had a chance to finish before being pulled into Hell – or, one of the versions of. There was an eerie listlessness in the air and he figured that it was just the right time for him to get the book done. And since both Spike and Cordelia were out, there was little hope of getting laid for at least a few more hours.

He sat with his feet propped up on his desk so that he was facing the door of his office with his ass on the very edge of his chair. Though the position looked uncomfortable, it was a great deal better than being slumped over a desk that wasn’t high enough for him while sporting a hard-on caused by Spike pacing the room like a caged animal; beautiful, athletic, primal… liquid sex and Cordelia stopping by: leaning over to show him reports while his eyes were stuck on the incredible amount of cleavage that her shirt revealed. The two of them had nearly driven him to pulling them both into his private office so that he could teach them lessons for teasing him, even if Spike hadn’t really done anything on purpose other than know that he had a body to die for.

He bit back the groan that was trying to crawl its way out of his throat when Doyle walked in the room, interrupting his… reading. He began to slowly massage his temple with the hand that his head was resting in; trying to will away his "happy thoughts" along with the headache he knew would appear if Doyle realized his current state.

He needn’t have worried because Doyle was too busy being bored to pay enough attention to Angel to notice. Angel knew that the only thing worse than Cordelia and Spike in an argument over fashion was the bored Irish half demon that stood before him, pacing. Angel couldn’t help but notice that Doyle wasn’t nearly as good at the art of pacing as Spike was.

Doyle walked towards Angel then back the two steps between the edge of the desk and the door. As he approached Angel, he threw the vampire a disgusted look before retracing his steps. After a few uneasy moments, he asked restlessly, "So tha’s it, then? Tha’s yer excitin’ plan fer this eve’nin? A book?" He leaned on the desk with his fists, which were planted near Angel’s boots, waiting for an answer.

For a split second longer then could be considered soulful, Angel mulled over the effect of kicking out and to the right at that second. He gave it up, the thought causing barely a tinge of guilt; Spike’s "fuck ‘em all" attitude about life was beginning take its toll on Angel. His more demon tendencies and habits were beginning to surface a lot faster and easier these days.

The thought of Spike made his jaw twitch. In an attempt to cover up his emotions – or, rather, unsated lust – he muttered, "I get enough excitement."

It was a lie, but he was a vampire. He was created to be an evil blood-sucking creature; a lie every now and then couldn’t be as bad as compared to what he used to do. Moments like these, he could willing deny that the existence of his soul affected his train of thought at all without any guilt whatsoever. Like he had told Cordelia, Angel and Angelus were one in the same; only one was subject to a great amount of guilt for a lot of his actions.

Doyle stood back up and exclaimed, "Ov th’ evil-fighting v’riety. How ‘bout a li’l off-duty fun?"

Angel glanced up at Doyle, fighting a grin, and raised an eyebrow. "You know I get ‘off duty fun’ while on duty, right?" the vampire couldn’t help but ask.

Doyle grimaced. "Not th’ rompin’ b'tween th’ sheets kind."

"When I get ‘off duty fun,’ sheets usually aren’t included unless I need restraints that don’t leave a bruise," Angel stated. At Doyle’s eye roll and pointed look, he decided to humor the half demon. "And your version of ‘off duty fun’ would be…?"

Grinning from ear to ear, fully recovered from Angel’s laps into Angelus-like behavior, Doyle pushed Angel’s feet off the desk. He walked around the corner of the desk and sat down before he leaned in as close as he dared as he whispered, eyes wide in hope to create a mood, "Two beau'iful words… sports bar."

Gracing Doyle with little more then a disgusted look, Angel picked up his chair and turned it so that he was facing the away from his Seer. He put his feet up on the corner of the desk that he was now facing, mirroring his previous position and went back to pretending to read. He really wanted Cordelia to get back from that commercial interview and Spike from wherever he was so that they could save him from Doyle’s pestering. Or at least figure out a legitimate excuse for him to go down to the apartment – he wasn’t completely soulless.

"C’mon!" Doyle exclaimed, voice reaching an almost squeakingly desperate level. Shifting his eyes as he spoke, he explained, "Yah know, they ‘ave trivia games on th’Internet now? Yah cou’ challenge drunks world ‘round. Anythin’… Please! I can’t jus’ sit ‘ere while - "

"Hey guys."

Both turned to see Xander standing just inside the door.

Mouth hanging slightly ajar, Doyle took in Xander’s outfit as he turned and stood slowly. The teen wore black slacks, which accentuated every single curve on the boy’s legs, and polished black dress shoes. He wore a black sports jacket over a gray, two sizes too small – from what Doyle could tell – t-shirt with a neckline that came down just far enough to make a person wonder just how muscular Xander’s chest really was. Around his neck he wore a shiny silver, heavy link chain that drew the eyes towards it, but didn’t stick out. Behind him, Doyle could hear Angel’s chair being pushed back as the vampire stood as well.

"Feel too dressy up to be here, but Cordelia insisted that I look presentable, and since she wouldn't be around to see it she said that I had to show you guys," Xander muttered as he ran a hand through his curling locks, which were wet and glistening.

Doyle felt like a landed fish with the way he continued to open and close his mouth, unsure of what to say. The teen looked like he was about to go on stage and strip. Finally, Doyle settled on asking, "Where yah off ta?"

"Cordy keeps on telling me that it’s a date," Xander glanced over his shoulder briefly, "but she doesn’t know everything about me… So I’ll let her live in her own land of ignorant bliss for now. Plus it’s more fun to keep her guessing."

Doyle winced and tried not to let his emotions show through as he searched for something to say. He realized that it was the sound of the door from the outer office that had drawn Xander’s attention. "Well, tha’s our Cordy," he managed to say softly, not sure what else he could say that wouldn’t make him sound like an idiot.

Xander gave him a grin, barely spared Angel a glance, and slowly started backing up. "If I’m not here in the morning, I’ll probably be at Mac’s so don’t…" he trailed off uncomfortably. After a moment he finally just turned and walked into the outer office.

~~~

Mac walked into Angel Investigations and glanced around at his surroundings. He raised an eyebrow at the nearly empty office, but otherwise didn’t show any sign of emotion until Xander walked out of the back office. He let out an impressed whistle as Xander sauntered towards him. The last time he had seen the teen was nearly a year ago dressed in orange and purple floral print with vibrant, electrical pants. "Wow… you clean up real nice, Xan," he said with a grin, offering his hand.

Shrugging, Xander shook the hand formally before pulling the larger man into a tight hug complete with back patting and manly mock complaining sounds. "I owe it to Cordelia. She bought my entire wardrobe. The only thing she wanted from me was my sizes and whether I wore boxers or briefs," he said mirroring the other man’s grin as he pulled away. "We going?"

Mac chuckled and nodded. "Cordelia hasn’t changed much, has she?" he asked as he opened the door.

They were almost to the door when Angel called out "What’s your hurry?" as he and Doyle both walked out of the back office. Angel, realizing that he still held his book, put it down on the closest desk. "You haven’t even introduced us," he said, standing with his arms hanging uncomfortably at his sides.

Xander grimaced. "This is the Great Gelled Wonder and side kick, Doyle. Peaches, Doyle: Mackenzie, better known as Mac. Now, we’ll be headed -"

"You work Mac?" Angel asked, moving his arms so that they were crossed over his chest and pointedly ignoring Xander’s many insults that had grown to include some of Spike’s favored nicknames for him. His face was an impassive mask though his thoughts were a whirlwind of motion. For as long as Angel had known Xander, the teen had been strictly heterosexual with only the odd slip up in regards to other men. So why was he so cozy with this man? And was this why Xander was so skittish around Doyle?

Mac raised an eyebrow at him, having expected the stoic vampire that Xander told him Angel was. He brought up his "cold attorney exterior" in response to Angel’s presence. "Yeah. Lawyer."

Angel shifted slightly not unaware of the brush-off that the man’s short sentences implied or the way the man was trying to intimidate him. Not that his six foot something and huge shoulders weren’t intimidating, but Angel figured that, in a fight, mystical vampire strength would win over human brute. He decided to pry some more. "Good… Good. Out for dinner?" he asked, taking a small step forward, trying for discreetness for his own sake, not Xander’s, to sniff the large man out but somehow knowing that he wouldn’t succeed.

"Le Petit Renard," Mac stated with a perfect French accent. He was determined not to give up the slightest bit of unneeded information. He raised an eyebrow at Angel before moving to guide Xander out the door, but only managing to get away by about half a foot.

"Oh, right," Doyle said, getting over his speechlessness in time to stall Mac’s escape. He shifted from foot to foot, put off by Mac’s cool attitude and overpowering presence. "Nice spot. Duck’s dry."

Angel put a hand in one of his pockets as he took a completely indiscreet sniff once he was close enough to the man. Satisfied that Mac wasn’t of the demon variety, but still suspicious of his place in Xander’s life, he considered what his next question should be. "So… how late will you be?" he settled on.

Xander gave him a confused and angered look that spoke of his intention of chewing him out when he got back. He obviously didn’t think Angel would bother with the "my daughter’s on her very first date I must interrogate the male" routine. He pulled Mac to the door by his arm and he called over his shoulder, "Late. Don’t wait up."

After they had left, Angel walked over and watched as they left the hallway before he shut the door. Even before the door was closed, Doyle muttered rhetorically, "He’s nawt gunna fall fer me ample, bu’ unpretentious charms… is’e?"

Angel didn’t bother answering the half demon. He was too busy trying to figure out why he had acted like he had. He could chalk it up to curiosity, but he knew that there was more to it than that. Finally he settled for worry over Doyle’s painful infatuation with the boy.

"I mean ‘e knows all ah my cards. ’m part demon, I work fer th’Powers, I tend ta like my drink a li’l too much at times…" Doyle trailed off and picked up Angel’s book as he dropped onto the couch. "All I know ‘bout him is tha’ he’s had a bad track record wi’h w'men an’ he really doesn’t like you."

"He has it out for vampires," Angel said and he leaned against the nearest desk to Doyle. "His best friend was turned."

Doyle winced at that and sighed. "Jus’ vampires? – or demons in general? ‘Cause from where I’m standin’ it’s all th’same fer ‘im."

"Doyle, I’m not exactly the person to be asking questions concerning Xander. He hated me from the moment… well even before he knew my name," Angel stated. He shifted and crossed his ankles. "The thing is… Xander’s a white knight in tarnished armor. He will do anything for the good fight, but it doesn’t take much for him to have the wool pulled over his eyes. He lets his lust take him wherever it wants him to go."

Doyle looked thoughtful. "Seems like it’s led into th’ arms ov Mac th’ attorney."

"I really don’t think so," Angel said with a shake of his head. "They don’t hit me as a couple. More like… related."

"Really?" Doyle asked, incredulous.