Well, I waited and waited and waited, but Doyle still hasn't been resurrected, and since I promised a certain Fuzzy Elf that I would bring Doyle back myself, my overactive writer's brain spawned this. I hope you guys like it. A certain Fuzzy Elf did. Review if you'd like, I always appreciate it.
Angel and all it's respective characters belong to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt and their prospering company, not to I. Tecothra is mine, however.
Enjoy, y'all. And if you don't like the idea of Lorne being smitten, don't read this. Not that that's the only thing going on in this story, but y'know…I had to do it.
Changes
Doyle sat cross-legged on the floor, watching Cordelia sleep. Her soft breathing was music to his ears. Ears that had taken such sounds for granted during his mortal life.
He had taken a lot of things for granted in his mortal life.
Dennis phased through the door, and his eyes fell on Doyle. "You still here?"
"Forever," the other replied automatically.
"Is that your punishment? To be stuck in limbo watching the woman you love but can never touch forever?"
"No, this is my reward."
"Reward? What could you have possibly done to deserve this hell as a reward?"
Doyle kept his eyes on Cordelia, but said nothing in response.
Lorne was singing "My Favourite Things" from The Sound of Music when she entered the club. She watched him closely, studying him. Caritas was still in disarray from the showdown two weeks ago, but she was not surprised to find the demon there. The club was not only his livelihood, afterall; it was also his abode.
"You have a lovely voice." she said softly.
The demon looked up at the woman standing before him. She was pretty, and fair-haired. One eye was brown, but the other was solid white. Lorne guessed that this was some form of gift of her own, but he chose not to start the conversation with an interrogation. "Why thank you. I don't like to toot my own horn, but I do enjoy singing. And there's nothing like a good show tune."
"I know. The Sound of Music's your favourite, right?"
"How do you know that?"
"Oh, the Powers That Be told me about you before they sent me here. I need your help, Lorne. I have to find a friend of yours. Her name is Cordelia."
He was distrustful of her intentions. Especially since she seemed to know a fair bit about him. "I think it unfair that you know my name, but you have yet to tell me yours."
"Oh, I'm sorry, how intelligent of me." she offered her hand. "I'm Tecothra,"
He shook, then asked suspiciously, "What do you want from Cordy?"
"It's not what I want from her. It's what I can change for her. Her visions are becoming too much for her. The PTB have deemed her unworthy of such a gift, but their Champion needs a link."
"Are you - "
"Oh, no, not me," she laughed lightly. "I have my own abilities, I don't need any more." she tapped the side of her head, next to her white eye. "I can see things, Lorne. Sometimes terrifying things, other times uplifting things. It depends on how they present themselves. None of us are happy all the time with our gifts."
"I hear ya, Sister," he agreed, nodding. "So, what's yours?"
Tecothra pointed in the far left corner of the room. "Do you see the girl sitting beside the remnants of the plant?"
Lorne looked, but saw only the bits of plant. "No,"
"I can. She was killed in a car crash eight years ago in that exact spot. And now she's stuck here, because she doesn't know how to cross over."
"You see ghosts?"
Tecothra nodded, smiling, "Yes,"
"What does this have to do with Cordy?"
"She has a ghost, and the PTB have asked me to bring him back to our plain of existence." she studied Lorne. He still did not seem convinced. Tecothra cocked her head to the side. Clearly the only way to convince him was to give his ability the chance to exert itself. She began to sing, "'I've been sleeping under the beanstalk, and I've been dreaming of something big...'"