AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This fic marks a momentous occasion, the first time I've ever been able to write Cordy/Doyle smut without it feeling wrong LOL I give full credit to this wonderous new realm of possibilities to the inspirations (wicked thoughts) I got from reading Zaedah's utterly fantastic fic "The Game" in which Cordelia is purposely tormenting Doyle for her own amusement. Left me with a craving and this is the result.

WARNING - HERE BE SMUT!
THIS FIC IS NOT FOR KIDDIES!!!
BADGIRL'S SPECIAL BRAND OF COMEDIC/HOT SMUT CONTAINED WITHIN!!!

If you are not at least 18 years old please bounce your way back out of here.

If you are, get ready to crack up and sweat simultaneously ;)

"THE LOOK"

Inspired by Zaedah
and the Roxette classic song ;)

"First thing in the morning we find the PTB and give them a serious talking to about their timing…" Cordelia whined as they entered the club. She was at least thankful that she'd been dressed to the nines before Doyle's vision had led them here.

"PTB?" Angel asked distractedly, his eyes scanning the patrons for anyone seeming out of sorts.

"Yeah – as in the Powers That Be. God, try and keep up!" She snapped at him, hands on her hips and eyes glaring at the backs of his and Doyle's unsympathetic heads.

"Sorry, princess – s'not as though they've a complaint box for me to slip a note in." Doyle said with a smirk.

"And I don't remember anyone asking you to tag along." Angel added despite Doyle's intentions not to point it out. She had seemed eager for the excuse to cancel her date for the evening to join them; Doyle realized the whining she was doing now was an attempt to distract from the reasons for it and was letting her save face – not that he had any clue what her motivations might be. Wishful thinking was that she had preferred their (his) company to that of the rich boy she was supposed to be out with.

Cordelia scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, and leave you two unsupervised wandering the club district so Doyle here can start another bar fight? I don't think so."

Ever the one to point out the obvious Angel continued, this time making Doyle turn his face away and grin victoriously at his words. "Didn't Doyle start that fight because somebody called you a hooker?" He asked and gave her an incredulous look over his shoulder as she stammered and sputtered to come up with a retort.

Not wanting to endure any scathing remarks for his chivalry Doyle cut in, content with Angel's reminder and hoping to leave it as it stood. "The guy from my vision looked really…well, twerpy for lack of a better word. The girls were damned near model quality when I saw them with him in here…didn't see if he was a vamp or a demon or what but however he did it the girls were all very much dead afterward."

"So we just need to find someone, aside from you – of course, that's talking to a girl completely out of his league?" Cordelia asked matter-of-factly, a cruel and satisfied smile coming to her lips at the arched brow and scowl Doyle gave her for the stab.

He shook his head and turned away from her, not letting her see the amusement on his face. She never missed an opportunity to try and cut him down; much like her decision to come here he knew there was an ulterior motive behind it but similarly had no idea what it could be. He chose to endure her cheap-shots only because cruel and vindictive looked devastatingly sexy on her.

"Let's split up and look around, meet back here." Angel said, completely disregarding Cordelia's instigations and talking to Doyle as if she wasn't standing there. She gave the side of his head an insulted look but he ignored it, turning and walking away from her as punishment for her goading. In truth her snide comments, while Doyle never seemed to be phased by them, were getting on Angel's nerves. He was growing fond of having Doyle as a friend and hated that no matter how kind he was to her Cordy still walked all over him. His new companion seemed above putting her in her place, he suspected it was because she could do no wrong in his eyes, but he wasn't. He found that if he pointed out things like Doyle's willingness to stick up for her or fight vamps to save her ass, if he was as cold to her as she was to Doyle she warmed up considerably. A satisfied smirk came to his lips when a quick glance over his shoulder found her frowning and watching Doyle walk away from her heading in the opposite direction. One of these days she'd get over herself and admit that she had feelings for their Irish seer, Angel hoped it would be soon…he just didn't realize how shortly it would be before he got his wish.

The club was a lot rougher than the ones they'd visited in the past, the music was louder and harder, scantily clad girls were dancing in suspended cages overhead, fires were flaring in pits around the dance floor – exploding for effect in time with the music. Angel made it a point to give these areas wide berth. He gathered that this was a hard club to gain entry to, seeing the money invested in the atmosphere he could understand why.

Angel been hard-pressed to conceal his amusement seeing Cordy's obvious shock that Doyle had gotten them into this place. He wished Doyle could have seen the look on her face when he'd walked past the people waiting in the line that stretched around the block, shook the hand of the bouncer who'd called his name and grinned when he'd seen him and was waved inside. Oh and how utterly perfect it had been when Doyle needed to come back and assure the bouncer that Cordy was with him before she was allowed to follow. The memory brought a smile to his lips as he searched the chaos for anyone looking out of place.

Across the club Cordelia was trailing along (at a distance, mind you) after Doyle. He was confusing her tonight, she watched people (as in people who mattered) smiling and clapping him on the back, trying to get him to come sit with them, offering him drinks. Her eyes narrowed in on him, a scowl on her face when she saw a few skanks tugging on his hands and trying to get him to join them on the dance floor.

Why was she scowling? It was just Doyle. Not like she was jealous or anything, I mean please. She was just…surprised, yeah that was all. She'd assumed that she was the most attractive girl he had the pleasure of breathing in the presence of…he'd never corrected her for this obvious misconception. Her decision to deem these girls as skanks was fading when she took in the designer dresses and heels they were wearing. She bit her bottom lip as her confidence started to falter, quickly telling herself that the girls must be high paid prostitutes or something in an effort to sooth her injured ego…a thought which only reminded her of his fight stemming from someone thinking the same of her and her frown grew more severe. Doyle was prying himself from their grasp, smiling but judging by his body language he was telling them he had to go.

"What's a pretty girl like you so sad about?" She turned at the sound of the nasally voice and arched a brow. Twerpy was an accurate description, she decided. "I've got something that will cheer you up…" He began.

Angel walked over to where Doyle was finally freeing himself from the girls and nearly grinned at the realization that Cordelia must have seen it. "Hey, any luck?" Angel asked and Doyle turned to face him.

"No, no sign of him yet." Doyle said, clearing his throat guiltily and smoothing his shirt. "Where's Cordy?" He asked, his eyes scanning the sea of faces for her.

Angel spotted her and his expression lost any hint of amusement. "There – and it seems she found him for us." He said as he pointed. They were instantly cutting through the crowd to reach her.

"Listen, creepo – I'm not interested in whatever you're offering so just back off before – " Cordy was saying in her usual flippant tone, not taking notice to the amulet he'd just pulled from behind his shirt.

"Ta neemay veluca rensida…" The twerp breathed.

A flash, barely perceptible to the untrained eye and being dismissed by the club patrons for another special effect made Angel and Doyle both break into a run. The stench of magic was thick and heavy in the air for both of their senses and just as they reached her Cordelia had started to sway on her feet. Seeing the two men rushing toward him the twerp froze fearfully, the instant Angel shouted for him to stop he took off like a shot leaving Doyle to catch Cordelia as her knees buckled.

"Cordelia!" Doyle shouted over the deafening music and Angel turned at the fear in his voice, giving up the pursuit as he rushed back to them. She opened her eyes and looked up at him in a daze; her arms were wrapped around the back of his neck as he steadied her. "What happened? Are you alright?" He asked but she just shook her head. Something was wrong but she couldn't place it, couldn't think clearly, was spending a lot of time staring at his lips as he yelled to Angel that they needed to get her out of there.

Doyle smelled really nice…and his shirt was so soft under her fingers…and his accent was so sexy…

She continued to stare at him as he helped her out the door, listening to his lilt and keeping a firm grip on him as he asked the bouncer for information about the creep that had just raced from the club, barely noticing Angel giving the man a business card and telling him to call if he spotted him around there again.

Doyle helped her into the backseat…he was so considerate. He stared at her in confusion when she wouldn't let him go but complied with her unspoken request, sitting with her instead of going up front next to Angel as they drove off.

He was such a great guy…and God he smelled really good…

"Princess, are you alright? Did he hurt you? What happened?" Doyle asked in a panic, those sparkling eyes of his were laced with worry for her and she tilted her head, smiling up at him coyly and biting her bottom lip as he checked her throat and arms for injury.

The feeling of his hands on her bare shoulders was intoxicating…He wasn't even letting himself notice her obvious interest in that moment; was more concerned with her safety than his own desires. He was always so protective of her, seeing him all frantic like this at the thought of someone harming her was indescribably hot…

She reached up and let her hair down, it pooled over her shoulders and she traced her fingers over his jaw, her eyes wandering to his lips and smiling at the suddenly confused expression on his face.

"Umm…princess? Are you alright?" He asked cautiously. There was no way he was reading what he thought he was reading in the burning need in her gaze. "Cordy, what the –?" He began in a rather shocked tone but he was just too delicious to resist.

She pressed her mouth to his, forcing him to let her in, her tongue exploring the heat of his kiss commandingly as he let out all sorts of yummy little noises. Her hands wandered over his chest, down his stomach, sneaking between them as she straddled him and earning a surprised moan.

Angel looked up into his rearview casually – and nearly drove into oncoming traffic seeing Cordelia forcibly climbing into Doyle's lap.

The car swerved and tires screeched as he pulled over, his eyes bulged when he turned in his seat and found Cordelia groping Doyle, ripping his shirt open as the Irishman held his hands up and away from her at all costs.

"What the…" Angel breathed in astonishment.

It took him a moment to shake his head and give himself a mental jumpstart; in that span of time she'd gotten to work on Doyle's pants. The startled moan Doyle let out as her hand dipped lower brought Angel back from his shock – slightly – and he gripped Cordy by her shoulders, pulling her backward away from Doyle enough for his friend to be able to talk.

"Cordy? What…why…are you…" Doyle stammered as he struggled to catch his breath, reaching down and fastening his belt hurriedly, looking past her starved expression to where Angel was staring at him in shock.

"Let me go!" Cordelia whined as she fought Angel's grasp trying to get back to the object of her desire and the men could only continue to stare at one another in bewilderment.

"So I'll gather this is how he gets them to talk to him." Doyle managed in a strained voice, running a hand over his hair in an attempt to smooth it from her attempted ravaging.

With a mischievous smile Cordy realized that despite her arms being restrained she could still press other regions of herself to parts of him that earned a delectable stream of accented curses. She grinned triumphantly as he climbed from the car and took a moment to…adjust…staring skyward and pleading for strength.

"He cast something on her…you gotta fix this, man!" Doyle said, his entire body begging to be returned to the care of the vixen as he pointed at her, trying to ignore that she was eyeing him up like prime rib and struggling against the vampire's grasp to get to him.

"Me? How am I supposed to fix it?" Angel asked as he fought to keep a hold on her.

"I don't really care about the 'how' – just make it stop! She comes off this and finds I let her do anything with me during she'll never forgive me!" Doyle screamed.

Cordy bit her lip and shook her head, momentarily halting her attempts to get free of Angel's grip. "You are so incredible…look at you, still worrying about me like always…" She began in a seductive tone, her voice was thick and sweet like honey to his ears and Doyle's mouth hung open. "Why don't you let me worry about you for a change?" She asked, spreading her legs slightly and arching a brow invitingly.

"Oh dear, sweet, holy mother of Christ." Doyle breathed and turned the other direction. "Angel, I'm not strong enough for this, okay? Abstinence isn't really my thing. How about I just go home and you call me when she's back to hating me?" He pleaded and Cordelia gasped.

"I don't hate you, Doyle! I'm just trying to keep you from finding out how much I like you, that's why I tease you so much." She said determinedly.

Angel's jaw dropped, an astonished laugh escaping him as Doyle slowly turned back to face her.

Cordelia continued talking, intent on explaining herself so he would stay with her. "I actually think you're adorable…you know I spend twice as long getting ready when I know we're going to be alone? It's true. I even look forward to you having visions so I can have an excuse to touch you. Don't you notice when Angel's not around and you have one that I'm holding you close when you come to? I want to be with you – I'm just afraid you'll hurt me."

Doyle looked up at Angel for help here but only received a shrug and smirk in response, there was no way of chalking these things up to the spell – her admitting them might be caused by it but she wasn't inventing them, she was simply confessing to them to comfort Doyle in hopes it would bring him closer.

"Princess…" Doyle began in shock.

"And I love it when you call me that – it makes me smile and blush and feel special. I want to be your princess." She said with such honesty it crushed Doyle's heart and made it difficult to breathe. He felt guilty even hearing it, no matter how happy it made him. This was cheating; she wasn't ready to say these things. He felt like he was violating her trust somehow.

"I would never hurt you, princess." He said softly and Angel looked anywhere but at the two that were having a revelation in that moment.

"Then be with me. Show me." She said, smiling at him hopefully.

"Oh, she's good." Doyle said, pointing at her and shaking his head. "Angel I gotta go, man. There's no way I can deal with this – she'll break me. I'm telling you right now I'm a weak, weak, miserable little bastard, I'll cave long before she gets her wits back about her…and I won't regret it until it's done, either. I can tell ya that much."

"I promise you won't." Cordelia said with a grin. "Guarantee it…you won't even be able to think as long as I've got you…"

"Well what the hell do you propose I do then? Try and drive while holding her back? She'll jump out of the car and come find you." Angel said in frustration and Cordelia nodded that it was true. "And if I'm gonna figure out how to reverse this I'll need my hands – Doyle, I'm sorry but you're just gonna have to deal with her. At least we know she wants to be with you, it's not like you're some stranger or something. She has feelings for you and if anything does happen…" Angel thought about and rolled his eyes. "She'll forgive you eventually."

Doyle glared at the vampire and Angel shrugged, no use lying about it – she'd be pissed off for a while. With a groan of frustration Doyle approached the car and Cordelia went back to fighting to reach him. "Well get in the back with her and I'll drive, and for the love of Christ don't let her go or we'll crash for sure."

After a bit of persuasion and a lot of struggling Angel managed to get into the backseat. She'd gotten free once and Doyle was still recovering from the sensation of her nibbling on his ear as he settled into the driver's seat. "So where do we go?" He asked as he adjusted the rear view to point right at Cordy, wanting a little warning in case she intended to launch herself at him again. He really wished he wasn't able to read her lips as she told him silently what she wanted.

"I guess her place." Angel began and Cordelia grinned.

"That's an excellent idea." She said but at the exact instant…

"That's a terrible idea." Doyle groaned. "I'm not going into the belly of the beast."

Cordelia waggled her eyebrows suggestively at him in the rearview, obviously liking the sounds of that metaphor.

"Fine, the office then; I don't really care what you do as long as you do it quickly." Angel said, getting tired of holding her back.

"We got any tranquilizers there?" Doyle asked hopefully and Angel considered it.

"Actually I think we do – I started keeping them around because of Oz and never stopped." Angel explained and Doyle's brows drew in confusion.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa – you're gonna drug me? Doyle! That counts as 'hurting'!" Cordelia said, feigning concern and hoping to get him to reconsider.

"Oz? Why would you need to tranq Oz?" Doyle asked.

"Because Oz is a werewolf…God, you were so adorable when he was here, all drunk and rambling…you know I took you home and put you to bed that night? I even kissed your forehead and tucked you in…I had half a mind to crawl under the covers with you and…" Cordelia began.

Doyle cut in with a loud stream of prayer, not wanting to hear the ending of that sentence.

"See? You're even sexy when you pray for the strength to resist me." Cordy said and flashed him a devastating smile in the rearview as he finished a Hail Mary.

Doyle cleared his throat, forcing himself to swallow and tear his eyes from her in the reflection. "So Bam-Bam is all fur and fangs and everyone's okay with that?" He asked in surprise, especially since Cordelia was so accepting of the guy.

"Well yeah, he's still Oz, silly." Cordelia said as if it was a no-brainer. "It's not like he was consulted about it beforehand – plus, he's no danger to any of us. Actually he used it once to save Willow…despite all the drama that was going on it was sorta sweet…"

Angel cleared his throat purposefully. "You know, Doyle…now might not be such a bad time to bring up…you know…maybe test the waters?"

Doyle stared at the road ahead and thought it through. "Maybe later…" He said quietly, really not wanting to talk about it while driving. It wasn't exactly a stress-free issue.

"Bring up what?" Cordelia asked but gasped in realization. "Ooohh….Doyle, are you keeping secrets? We don't keep secrets – right, Angel?" She asked as she turned to face him over her shoulder.

Angel nodded and smirked, finding this whole thing exceedingly comical. "She's right, Doyle. Secrets are bad." He said in a tone mimicking Cordelia's and Doyle glared at the place where Angel's reflection would have been in the rearview.

Cordy grinned victoriously and leaned closer to the back of Doyle's head, speaking in a husky tone that set his hair on end. "I know, how about you and I have a little confessional…you tell me your sins and ease all that delicious Irish Catholic guilt you've got pent up. Then we can spend the night working on your penance…"

Angel was trying (and failing miserably) to muffle his laughter.

Doyle looked up at her in the rearview and couldn't help but smile mischievously hearing such things from her. He watched her bite her bottom lip before whispering, "Ooohh, that wasn't a 'no', Doyle."

They got to the office and Cordelia was starting to get antsy worrying that she wasn't going to get her hands on Doyle again. She was starting to fight more, leaning forward despite Angel's vice grip as Doyle passed her. "Come on, just a few minutes…please? If you want it to be quick it can be. Or all night can be arranged…whatever you feel good about. "

"Angel, you better have these damned darts – I don't know how much longer I can listen to this." Doyle groaned as he opened the office door. They reached the elevator and she got free enough to push Doyle against the wall for a second, her free hand gripping the back of his neck and lips just grazing over his before Angel had hauled her back again. "Bloody hell! You're doing that on purpose, man!" Doyle accused and Angel laughed.

"I am not – but I have to tell you it's amusing every time it happens." Angel confessed and Cordelia grinned.

"You know what would be really funny? We get down here, you wait until he goes to look for the darts and then just let me go when his back is turned, sneak out and leave him to fend for himself." Cordelia suggested, playing to Angel's amusement as a potential means of getting free.

Doyle cast him a warning glare and Angel struggled to keep a straight face, he couldn't even come up with words to try and quell Doyle's worries that he was going to turn traitor on him. The elevator reached Angel's apartment and he smirked as Cordelia (possibly due to someone relaxing their grip of her ever so slightly) leaned forward enough to breathe on the back of Doyle's neck before he exited.

"That's just not fair, man." Doyle said, his voice breaking as he shuddered and shook his head. "Where are these things?"

"All business, isn't he?" Cordelia observed. "You should definitely let me go, I'll loosen him up. Come on – just a few minutes."

Angel wasn't sure who he should help here, he had to admit the idea of letting Cordelia go seemed like adequate punishment for all of her cruelty to Doyle, not to mention it would be funny as all hell. If Doyle wasn't so concerned with the aftermath he would have left her to it in the car.

Damned soul, Angelus would have helped the little minx for his own amusement; he wouldn't have let something like Doyle's morals stand between the poor bastard and what he really wanted. Angel's brow furrowed as his mind finished that scenario…

Angelus also would have tried to turn Doyle to keep his new companion close…if his demon blood prevented the change he would have played to his desires, using them to breed loyalty, he would have turned Cordelia before sending her to him…made her as a gift for his friend to enjoy…

And that was a scary and unwelcomed little mental trip he'd just taken.

Angel blinked repeatedly to snap himself out of it and motioned with his head for Doyle, "Umm…in the cabinet with the swords, little black box." Doyle nodded and slipped from the room leaving Angel to stare at the back of Cordelia's head and worry about the effect her scent was having on him. He hadn't had an Angelus-frame-of-mind moment in a long time; he needed to get out of there quick.

Doyle returned and set the box on the table, popping it open and staring down at it hesitantly.

"What's wrong?" Angel asked, eager for her to be unconscious and away from him already.

"It's just…" Doyle began, reaching down and picking up the gun with a trembling hand. He turned and looked at Cordy with pained eyes.

"You're gonna shoot me?" Cordelia asked frantically, her eyes wide and horrified as she struggled to get away – it was only for the purposes of making this harder on him.

Doyle's face twisted in remorse as he pointed it at her.

"Just aim for her leg or something…" Angel offered but after a moment of watching the war raging behind Doyle's eyes he sighed. "Do you want me to do it?" He asked and Cordelia glared at him over her shoulder. She'd been planning to move aside if Doyle had pulled that trigger, hoping the sedatives would instead take out her vampiric captor.

Doyle gritted his teeth as he lowered the gun. "No." He breathed, returning the gun to the case and grabbing one of the darts instead.

Cordelia worked up some tears and fought, staring at Doyle pleadingly. "Doyle…don't do this…don't you want me? Don't hurt me…please?"

Doyle's jaw was flexing in frustration as he approached quickly and gave her an apologetic smile; Angel tightened his grip on her to hold her steady despite her attempts to get away. "It's for your own good, princess." He said softly, pressing the dart into her arm and watching the drugs slowly drain into her. She wasn't a vamp or a werewolf, she was just a tiny little waif of a girl – he pulled the dart from her with half the dose still left inside it. "I'm sorry, I'd just rather you be mad at me for this." He offered as her eyes began rolling back in her head.

Her body went limp and Angel propped her up against Doyle happily, sighing in relief and walking to the elevator. "Well that was unpleasant. I'll stay in touch, gonna head back to the club and see if I can dig up more info about this guy. Call me if anything…changes…" Doyle looked up at him slowly from Cordelia's sleeping face and Angel paused, hating the remorse he could see lining every feature of his friend's expression. "I'm going to fix this. Just keep her comfortable and we'll have her back to her normal abrasive self by morning…alright?"

"Yeah, man…just go get it done." He choked out before picking her up as if she were made of glass.

Angel chewed the inside of his cheek for a few seconds before speaking in a reassuring tone. "Doyle, you did the right thing. I know you're not crazy about the idea of drugging her but you did it to protect her – not a lot of guys would have been able to do that."

"Right…thanks…and Angel?" He waited for the 'hmm?' that came in response. "Make the bastard suffer for hurting Cordy, would ya?" Doyle said angrily and walked to Angel's room with Cordelia.

"I will, I promise." He said softly as he closed the gate and pushed the button, silently hoping that the drugs would wear off and Cordelia would have her way so at least some good would come of this.

Doyle laid her back on the bed and brushed her hair from her face, pulling the covers over her and whispering to her how sorry he was that he'd allowed this to happen to her. He was already onboard the guilt train, ready with his one-way ticket to self hatred. He decided that this was entirely his fault; that if he'd kept her with him instead of heading off to check the club alone she never would have gotten into this mess.

Angel talked with Joey, the bouncer who apparently thought Doyle was the funniest guy in the world and with his help managed to set up a meeting at a diner away from the club to get information from the bartenders and dancers about the weasel he was searching for.

Bradley Andrews, the owner of a local comic book store with illusions of grandeur. Not being the type to ever have success with women everyone had found it odd when the past few weeks resulted in him leaving the club with numerous models. When Angel pressed for why this guy had even been allowed into such an exclusive club he learned Bradley had been given a free pass by the club's owner – his brother-in-law – and Angel quickly realized were it not for Doyle's connections here these people never would have helped him. They said that the police had come by before asking questions and they'd been told to keep their mouths shut or losing their jobs would be the least of their worries. Giving everyone his thanks and promising not to repeat where he'd gotten the tips from Angel had taken his leave.

"Doyle, it's me." Angel said and rolled his eyes, cutting off yet another butchery of the greeting script as he stood in the booth of the payphone. "How's she doing?" He asked, knowing the answer was 'unconscious' or he never would have gotten through.

"She's fine, still out like a light – God willing she'll stay that way till morning. What did you find out?" Doyle asked, looking in on Cordy and closing the door again.

"Get to the computer." Angel instructed while tossing aside the white pages that had proven useless.

Doyle put him on hold and went upstairs to the office. "Alright, what am I looking for?" He asked as he settled behind Cordy's desk.

"I need an address for a 'Bradley Andrews'. Might be able to track it down through comic book stores, apparently the guy owns one local." Angel said, pressing the phone to his ear and looking around the deserted street.

"He's our guy?" Doyle asked, rage just below the surface but perceptible for Angel's ears.

"He's our guy…" Angel answered after considering it a moment; he knew no matter how badly Doyle wanted five minutes alone with the one responsible he'd never leave Cordelia alone and vulnerable to go get revenge – especially not when he knew it was going to be taken care of.

"Got the little bastard; owns Dragon's Lair Comics and lives a few blocks away from it at 1534 James Street. Let's see…no priors listed, got one set of charges filed for date rape when he was a teenager but it looks like it was cleaned up. The girl recanted her statement and all charges were dropped…there's three things'll do that: money, muscle and magic." Doyle said bitterly.

"Well all three seem to be present. Your friends down here were already warned by the club owner that opening their mouths to the police about this guy would earn them terminal leaves of absence." Angel said. "Alright, I'm gonna go check this guy out. I'll get back to you when I find something."

They hung up and Angel set out again. He found that Bradley's house was only a few minutes from the club and spent a while watching it from the rooftop of a neighboring building. No sign of movement within so he approached the house from the rear, avoiding the motion lights and carefully prying one of the back windows open.

He'd just started to pull himself up when he slammed into the barrier; the familiar searing pain telling him this fight was no longer in his hands; can't enter the home of a mortal without an invitation.

With a rueful glare at the house he closed the window again and retreated into the shadows. Sticking to the perimeter of the yard he looked around for anything suspicious, his search turned up several lengths of blue tarp – convenient to keep around if someone wanted to dump bodies. Seemed Bradley found it more cost effective to buy larger tarps and cut them into sections; it would prove to be the mistake that caused his downfall.

Man did he hate when it came to this, his blood was boiling, he'd been so ready to take out the 'demon' or 'vamp' with brutal force…now he was entering the police station and trying to stuff his rage back into the corners of his mind. He watched her talking to a few of her fellow detectives, waiting for her to catch him out of the corner of her eye and excuse herself to come over to him.

"Angel, you're wearing your serious face." Kate joked, as if he had any other kind. "What's up?"

"Got information on a guy who you might be looking for." Angel said quietly and she nodded, offering for him to take a seat beside her desk which she already knew he wouldn't.

"What guy would that be?" She asked as she sat down in her chair.

"Someone related to the murder of several models last seen alive at Club Vortex in the past few weeks." He told her and watched her brow arch.

"And I'm sensing more than the usual brooding going on here." She said, studying the look on his face worriedly. "What's wrong?"

"He tried to use something on a friend of mine to…lure her into leaving the club with him but we interrupted the attempt. She's safe but I'm gonna need to find a way to fix what he did to her and need to ask him some questions privately. If I help you nail this guy can you promise me a few minutes alone with him?" Angel asked and Kate nodded.

"Yeah, of course." After a moment she decided to test a hunch. "This friend, was it Cordelia?" She tried and gauged by his flaring nostrils that she'd struck a nerve. "You said she's safe, is she going to need any medical attention or anything? I could have a medic swing by off the books if she doesn't want to go to a hospital..." Angel shook his head and she sighed. "Is Doyle with her?" She asked and watched him nod. "Then you're right. She's safe; he is absolutely head over heels for that girl. Alright, what do you have?"

"Guy's name is Bradley Andrews, loser who suddenly started landing himself girls that were way out of his league. I got some people to talk to me that wouldn't talk to police when they came asking about it – they're not going to testify or anything but they've pointed out a few things that will help you. For starters, Bradley Andrews is the brother-in-law of the club owner – should be difficult to dismiss that link in court." Angel explained and Kate smiled.

"I'll say. What else?" She asked.

"I've got his address if you want to take a drive. There's a bunch of cut up blue tarps in his back yard. I'm guessing the bodies you found were in the other pieces." Angel said and she was standing before he'd even finished.

Lights were on in the house when they got there and Angel cursed, hoping the evidence hadn't been moved. They went around back and thankfully Bradley was overly confident in his family's ability to keep the heat off of him. Kate called for backup, just as confident that she could get enough cause for an arrest without a warrant if she could talk to him.

Angel wondered how he was going to broach the subject of the barrier, finally deciding the best way was to risk sounding odd as she pulled her gun and turned to head back to the house. "When you go inside I need you to make him invite me in." He whispered and she turned and gave him a confused look. "It's a superstition of mine. Stupid, I know, but one I can't seem to break." With a smirk and eye roll she nodded in agreement and they walked up the front stairs.

Two knocks later and the door opened to reveal the bastard who'd hurt not one, but two of Angel's friends. Doyle's request replayed in his mind and he clenched his teeth. He barely had time to let the rage simmer before Kate had stepped in front of him and held up her badge. "Bradley Andrews, my name is Detective Lockley. I'm with the Homicide Division and I'd like to ask you a few questions. May we come in?"

Nicely done…Angel thought to himself.

Bradley continued to stare at Angel fearfully for several seconds, obviously recognizing him from the club and Kate spoke up again. "Mr. Andrews?"

"What? Oh – yeah…I mean sure…" He said sheepishly and backed up enough to allow them entry.

Angel repressed a menacing smile as he crossed the threshold, toning out the majority of their conversation as he walked around the room eyeing up books and artifacts of interest. Seems the little twerp was studying some pretty dangerous magic in his quest for importance.

By the time Angel found the book he'd need and turned back to them Kate had already made him say more than he intended to about the girls. She'd acted as if she wasn't even interested in being there; that she didn't think it was a lead worth following because she knew he couldn't have been alone with the models…had even made a remark about how they'd never have given him the time of day. All ego and no brain he'd happily admitted to dating the victims, denying any part in their death but wanting to get credit for his involvement with them romantically.

Angel smirked as Kate stood and craned Bradley's arm behind his back, placing him under arrest and reading him his rights…to Bradley's horror she had cuffed him to the radiator, though. His eyes nearly popped from his skull when she turned and said, "Alright, Angel. He's all yours – you've got another couple of minutes before backup arrives. I'll be right out front."

"Wait, what? You can't do this! It's brutality!" Bradley screeched and Angel let that menacing smile he'd been holding back spread across his lips.

"Not yet it isn't, but don't worry – we've got a little time together." Angel said in a dangerous tone once the front door was shut. "So you like picking up girls you don't deserve, is that it Bradley?" He asked, stepping up so close to him that he could feel his breath on his face. "Use a few spells you learned to make them want you and then what? Punish them for not wanting you on their own? You're a sick little freak…you think you know magic? You think you know evil?" Angel asked, letting his face change and smelling the terror that instantly filled the air. Bradley's face drained of blood without needing any help from Angel; his eyes were wide and petrified as he shook uncontrollably. "I can rip out your throat right now…do you know how easy it would be? The cops can't touch me, not that they'd even care if you died. You're nothing; you're insignificant to me just like you are to everyone else. You're just food, Bradley…but you know the funny thing? I won't even be able to stomach you. I'll just let you bleed out where you stand because you're not even worthy of a role at the bottom of the food chain. You've got one chance to save yourself – where's the amulet?" He asked, squeezing Bradley's throat.

"In the…in the drawer…" Bradley choked past Angel's grip, gasping for air as he went to retrieve it.

"Thank you, Bradley." Angel said with a grin as he stared down at it. "Where'd you get this?" He asked.

"An auction." He answered quickly. "Cost me fifteen thousand but you can keep it – it's yours."

Angel laughed cruelly. "You think anything you could say against it would change the fact that I'm taking this? Come on, Bradley." He shook his head and opened the book of spells, flipping through the pages looking for something that would keep his promise to Doyle.

It needed to be agonizingly painful, though not immediate…something that wouldn't cause him to act in a manner that might aid him in seeking an insanity plea…

When he stopped on a page, a wicked smile curving his lips as he chose the perfect punishment Bradley instantly started cursing under his breath and pulling at his restraints.

Angel held the amulet out and read from the book, satisfied that he was sufficiently keeping his word. "Ip sum haretay ban vie retun…anso reet hahna cul soli may…"

The amulet flashed, Bradley quaking in his boots and crying out, too terrified to move until he heard the sounds of the approaching sirens. He slowly opened his eyes, staring at Angel in confusion after finding that everything was still in tact and pain free on his body. "What…what did you do to me?" He asked noting that the book and amulet were already tucked away in Angel's pockets.

"Time's up." Kate said as she entered, needing to be rid of Angel before the other officers arrived.

"Thank you, Detective." Angel said with a smile, not wanting to call her Kate in front of the creep. "That was all the time I needed." He turned and headed for the back door, pausing and looking back at Bradley over his shoulder. "Sweet dreams." He called, watching the murdering bastard's face fall in realization.

It was a simple spell, really. One that Angel of all people could guarantee would be effective. He'd given Bradley a little going away present, the opportunity to understand the gravity of what he'd done beyond what he was previously capable of. Much like the effect having his soul returned had on Angel this sentence was sure to inflict untold levels of physical suffering, mental anguish and guilt.

You see from then on, every night until the time an inmate would inevitably shiv him for killing innocent and beautiful women, Bradley would be reliving his acts…from the other side. He'd feel the murders exactly as they had been felt by his victims every time he fell asleep. The pain, terror and death he'd wrought would come back on him a thousand fold and would earn no sympathy from anyone; they'd attribute it to the workings of the guilt ridden mind of a sentenced killer and leave it at that.

Angel was hard pressed to keep the grin from his face the entire ride back to the office.

Cordelia assumed Doyle had gone easy on her with the sedatives due to her size and weight; he hadn't taken into account the effects of the spell that was coursing through her and its ability to recover her strength. What good would it do for you to cast a spell of pleasure and desire on someone if they were just going to fall asleep after an hour? She smiled when she heard him upstairs and climbed from the bed, slipping up the stairs as silently as possible and entering the office behind him.

She watched him leaning over the desk fiddling with papers, let her eyes wander over the lines of his shoulders and back…then saw his muscles go rigid; his head coming up as he somehow sensed her standing across the room without turning to face her. Cordelia was intrigued now. "Time to get confessional, Doyle." She whispered as she approached.

He spun to face her, backing away and stammering. Was it possible she'd gotten even sexier since he'd left her downstairs? Her makeup was smeared now, dark shadows surrounding her eyes, her hair was wild and framed her face as she stared at him like a lioness on the prowl. "Cordy…but how-? That dose should have kept you out for hours…" He offered as if that would change anything, his legs hit the desk and halted his retreat.

"You knew I was in here…but you go out in the daylight so you're not a vamp…" She said, licking her lips and running her hands over her shoulders, pushing her dress down her arms as she sauntered toward him. "Mmm…never mind, too much talking. If you've got something to say do it now, forming words is going to be difficult in a minute."

"I'm…" Doyle began, his mouth suddenly dry and words failing him as she slid her dress to the floor to reveal the black lace bra and panties beneath and stepped out of it. "Dear, sweet…" He whimpered and she grinned.

"Told you so." She whispered and draped her arms around his neck, letting her lips brush over his as he stared at her in abject shock. "You've got less than a minute on the clock…tick tock…" Yeah, and Doyle was expected to be able to think clearly in that moment? "I think I recall you saying you were, 'more than meets the eye' when Spike was here. Spill it." Cordelia purred into his ear as she ran her hands up under his shirt and across his stomach. His legs threatened to give out from beneath him and she laughed breathily as he leaned against the desk for support.

"Princess…I'm not ready to talk about…I don't really want to…" He stammered, her fingers trailing down his stomach to his belt and breath on the nape of his neck were stealing his voice.

She reached down and grabbed his hands, bringing them to her breasts and smiling as his jaw dropped and face twisted in need. "Tell me what you are so we can get these pesky clothes off." She demanded…but his face changed to such a look of sadness that it threw her, made her pause as he let his hands fall from what she knew damned well he wanted. The spell was meant for her to please him beyond his wildest dreams; he very decidedly was not pleased here. "Doyle, just tell me." She begged, cradling his face in her hands and staring deeply into his eyes.

"You'll hate me for it; I don't think I'm strong enough to face that." Doyle whispered bitterly and she leaned in, kissing his lips sweetly. She offered no more words after that, content to make him wait with her body pressed against his, knowing he wouldn't move forward with anything until he confessed to whatever it was he felt so ashamed of. "Cordy…" He tried, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "I'm half demon."

He tensed and waited for the outburst of screaming and cursing to begin but got nothing, just an impressed, 'huh' from her.

After several of the longest seconds of his life she tilted her head to the side, still pinning him against the desk as she began a rapid-fire series of questions to acquire all pertinent information before she could continue the ravishing.

"Are you a bad demon?"
"I'm half Brachen."
"Evil?"
"No."
"Eat goats or kids or anything like that?"
"What? No!"
"Any cravings for blood or human flesh that I should be aware of?"
"No…the only cravings for flesh are for yours…and it's not that type of craving."
"Good answer."
"Thanks."
"Have any crazy violent urges that might put me in danger of being shred to bits?"
"No."
"You just hide it because you're ashamed of it?"
"Way to hit the nail on the head, Cordy – yeah."
"Are you slimy and yucky?"
"'Slimy and yucky'? No."
"Then what?"
"Spiky and multicolored."
"I can deal with that."
"I can't even deal with it."
"Does…" (pause for throat clearing) "Everything…get spiky?"
"No, thankfully."
"Agreed, that would have put a damper on things."
"Considerably."
"So what gets spiky?"
"My face."
"Okay, then no rough kissing, it'll just be like really sharp stubble."
"Holy Christ…"
"Any super powers?"
"Faster, stronger, better senses of smell, hearing, and sight, a lot more…flexible."
"Oohh, that sounds like fun."
"You're pretty much just ignoring the whole 'demon' part of this equation, aren't you?"
"Nope."
"Then I'm afraid you're losing me here, princess…"
"Wrong again, I'm gaining you."
"You're somethin else, d'ya know tha?"
"I've been told. Is the demon side under your control when you change?"
"Yeah."
"Do you decide when you change?"
"Yeah…and no, sometimes sneezing sets it off…and other things…"
"Oh…so you might go all 'grrr' when you…?"
"'Fraid so."
"Huh. So show me now."
"What? Why?"
"So I know what to expect."
"I don't think so…"

Discussion time was apparently over, Cordelia's brow arched determinedly as her hand delved to the non-spiky regions of earlier mention and Doyle let out a surprised yelp. She wasn't letting go, either.

"Well that's one way of getting what you're after…" He managed in a hoarse whisper and she giggled deviously as he rolled his eyes and struggled to stay upright. "Fine, I just want it to be on the record that I'm opposed to this." He said through gritted teeth.

"Duly noted." Cordelia said, batting her eyelashes and applying more pressure.

Doyle slouched considerably, pounding the side of his fist against the desktop as he groaned and hissed. "You keep that up and I'll be changing for the other reason we mentioned." He muttered angrily under his breath as she smiled down at him triumphantly.

Without any other alternative considering he was being held hostage in that moment…or at least parts of him were…he let his face shift to reveal the Brachen side and looked up at her slowly.

"Yup – still screwable." Cordelia announced in a chipper tone and before he could get a single word in edgewise she'd pounced and forced him back onto the desk.

He'd changed to his human face by the time he was lying on his back and she grinned – rough kissing was in order and whether it was the reason for his decision to change or not she still rewarded him for good behavior. For several seconds it was rather one sided, poor Doyle still trying desperately to fight the urge to reciprocate. She bit his bottom lip and loved the deep moan it earned her, kissing him hungrily as she tugged his shirt upward.

With one last defiant groan he gave in, lifting up and allowing her to pull his shirt off over his head before running his hands over her back and kissing her chin, her throat, her sternum frantically…

Cordelia's eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, the entire world was the pressure of his mouth on her body, she was dizzy with the pleasure of finally having his fingers pressing into her skin. She felt him unhook her bra and sighed as he slid it over her shoulders, leaving a trail of hot kisses and fingertips in the wake of the retreating straps. He pulled her flush atop him, both of them panting at the feeling of warm skin pressing against warm skin as they stared one another down. Doyle reached up and gripped the back of her head, tangling his fingers through her hair as they kissed one another madly.

They rolled across the desk fighting for control over one another, knocking the computer monitor, books and paperwork to the floor until Cordelia once again emerged victorious. She grinned down at him, pushing off his chest and sitting back, unfastening his belt and pants as he stared up at her intensely.

He did this sexy thing with his jaw when he was turned on, flexed it rhythmically with a look of such utter mischief in his eyes that it made her melt from the inside out. There were thoughts going on in there…naughty, wicked thoughts hiding behind those bright blue eyes that she wanted to hear all about.

She squealed happily when he climbed to his feet and left her to hang onto his shoulders as he pushed his pants and boxers down over his hips. Her kisses deepened as he reached down and gripped her ass with both hands to steady her, tearing away the scrap of black lace that was now the only thing that stood between them. He walked toward the wall with her blindly, pressing her against the window that led to the entryway and holding her there with the weight of his body.

A decidedly un-princess-like stream of curses fell from her lips as he slid deeply inside of her, which was okay since it was pretty much the same thing he was saying as she wrapped her legs around him tightly and forced him deeper still.

There was that jaw flexing again, those mischievous eyes burning into hers as he began moving his hips for her aggressively. Cordy let her head roll back against the shades, her hand reaching up and gripping them as she screamed and bucked against him.

Angel had just entered the building and stood slack-jawed seeing the silhouetted couple beyond the disheveled and breaking shade on one of the windows leading to the office.

"Oh God…that's it…come on, baby…give it to me!"

Angel's eyes widened in shock, his brow arching severely as a smirk slowly crept across his lips.

So yeah, Cordelia was awake.

The decision to wait to retract the spell required no consideration. He took a seat on the steps of the entryway, smiling to himself and wondering if he should go downstairs. It wouldn't make the current…activities any quieter to his ears no matter where he went in the building. With a shrug he opened the book, looking down at the incantations and making sure he knew what he would need to do.

A moment later a loud crash nearly sent him into hysterics – I mean we're talking raucous, belly-shaking laughter that snuck up on him so fast he had to cover his mouth to hold it in. He struggled to keep his eyes on the book and away from the windows and the shades that were being torn down as the couple slid across them.

Doyle's moaning reached a feverish pitch, the height of which was punctuated with Cordelia's triumphant exclamation of:
"Oh yeah! Check that out – I guess I'm doing something right, spike-boy! Score one for team Cordy!"

"Go team, go." Doyle managed with a laugh through labored breaths.

Maybe going downstairs for a little while wasn't such a bad idea, Angel decided as he shook uncontrollably with silent laughter and struggled to get to his feet. Maybe he could just let them both get a bit of the tension out of their systems before interrupting.

He busied himself down in his apartment as best he could considering the earthquake test going on overhead, deciding by hour four and an awful lot of climaxed screaming that if he didn't break this up soon he'd be down two employees for a week at the very least. Not to mention the fact that it sounded like they were giving it their best effort to break every piece of furniture in the reception area. One crash he was sure had been the legs of Cordy's desk giving out, there had been several others afterward which he dreaded to find out the cause of.

When he heard the chaos working closer to his office he stared at the ceiling in slack-jawed shock.

"Oh no…I just don't think so…" He said indignantly as he gripped the railing and launched himself up the stairs. "That desk is antique, hand-carved mahogany, damn it!" He told the door as he prepared to crash through it. He paused mid-shouldering, though.

Listening to the moans and screams with a curled lip he judged that they were now in his office and well on their way to finishing round…Christ he'd lost count of what round they were on at this point. One thing he was sure of? If he opened the door he'd be seeing a whole lot more of his friends than he bargained for.

"To hell with it." He told himself and pulled the amulet from his pocket, taking a steadying breath and focusing on Cordelia in his mind. "Veluca rensida fini tay!"

He opened his eyes, listening to the screams changing pitch beyond the door and scrunching his face up worriedly waiting for her to start shrieking and kicking Doyle's ass. Poor bastard…

"Princess?" He heard Doyle saying breathlessly.
"Yeah?" Cordelia said in a daze.
"You alright?" Doyle asked with concern evident in his voice.

Angel held his breath.

Cordelia moaned and he heard Doyle let out a surprised gasp. "I'm fine…just keep going!"

He nearly fell down the stairs trying to get away from the door before bursting into a fit of laughter.