Precious Gifts: An Angel Christmas Story
By Ivory

Disclaimer: The characters of Angel, Cordelia, and Doyle belong to Joss Whedon. Helen, however, belongs to me unless proven otherwise. Enjoy.

Prelude

From The Journal of Cordelia Chase:

December 20, 1999

It's been a few weeks, but I can still see those moments, clear as day. Can remember that Doyle (a half demon), Angel (an ensouled vampire), and I (an ordinary mortal woman) were standing huddled together on the platform of a cargo ship, a large family of peaceful demons watching us from the stockroom below. While we remained focused on a large suspended light-bomb that was ready to detonate and kill us all.

I can still hear Angel's voice echoing in my mind that he had to get close to the bomb to deactivate it, even though he knew that his exposure to the light was sure to burn him alive. Both Doyle and I argued this fact, but we could see that Angel's mind was made up; he was ready to sacrifice himself for us. I remember that Doyle seemed to accept this, as he said, "You never know how selfless you are until you've been tested... I get that now."

Doyle's next action caught both of us off guard, as a mean right hook from him sent Angel flying off the balcony and landing roughly on the floor below. Next, pressed for time, Doyle turned and abruptly kissed me without saying a word. When he pulled away, I could only stare at him in silent disbelief, somehow knowing deep down inside that this was his way of saying goodbye. A fact compounded when he morphed into his demon guise and said, "It's too bad we'll never know... if this is a face you could learn to love."

When Doyle turned to face the bomb, prepared to leap from the platform over to it, I wanted so badly to stop him, but didn't have the strength nor the courage. Only Angel could do that; even now, I could distantly hear him ascending once more, screaming for Doyle to stop. But in the end, we were both too late. Doyle got the bomb deactivated, but died as a result of the heroic act. And the worst part is, nothing was left of him; he was simply burned into oblivion...

Part One

Later on, Cordelia would remember dropping a hint or two to Angel that they should buy a tree to celebrate the coming holiday. But at the outset, it had been lost in the haze she found herself in; quite often, her days were spent with an air of loneliness about her. She missed the verbal sparring sessions she and Doyle had used to share; Angel wasn't a very good replacement when it came to that.

Cordelia had to admit she was surprised when her vampire companion brought an artificial forest green pine home with him the day before Christmas, and, when questioned, Angel stated that he thought it might help cheer her up. Cordelia had smiled in return, and it wasn't long before the two of them set at decorating the tree.

During their task, Angel had to admire Cordelia for remaining pleasantly silent, despite the fact he knew she had to be hurting since Doyle's death. Sometimes, he imagined it had hit her harder than him; Cordelia had, after all, revealed that she and Doyle had just been getting started, had just broached the subject of dating, when the tragedy occurred. Perhaps, Angel thought, it was worse getting over a loss when you still had all those unknown possibilities overshadowing it.

They had nearly finished, Cordelia had even pulled a stool over to put a glass star on the top at her own insistence, when the attack came. All at once, she groaned, bending over and holding her forehead, and nearly fell off the stepping stool save for Angel's catching her. Nevertheless, the star fell from her hand, falling unnoticed to the floor and shattering there.

Angel knew enough of the visions that Doyle had passed to Cordelia before he died to recognize that this was one. Gently, he helped her to more solid ground, waiting anxiously for her to recover.

Cordelia visibly relaxed after a few seconds, gently rubbing the sides of her head to massage away the blinding headache that came with her new power. "Susan," she blurted out instinctively. "Susan Jeffries... Short, redheaded, sort of a pixie-ish look to her. Works at a family planning clinic downtown... From what I'm getting, it looks like she's gonna need help right away." Cordelia groaned, holding her head a moment. "I never realized how hard it was on him, but now I have to commend Doyle for putting up with these."

Angel looked like he wanted to get going, but still hesitated. Looking from Cordelia to the tree and back again, he said, "Cordy, I can't..." A pause, then he let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I just hate to think of you spending Christmas Eve by yourself."

She gave a sad smile, appreciating the sentiment but knowing she couldn't keep him from what he had to do. "I'm a big girl, Angel. I can handle spending a few hours alone, and I'm not sure if the same can be said for Susan. She needs you."

Angel pulled on his jacket, eyeing Cordelia in worry. Sighing, he took a step backwards, towards the access to the city's storm drains. "I promise, I'll be back as soon as time allows," he said apologetically. "And that we'll have a nice first Christmas." Then, just like that, he was gone, down into the sewers on his way towards Susan's place of business.

Cordelia went for a bottle of aspirin and knocked two pills back with a glass of water, then returned to the living room, startled when a piece of glass crunched under her shoe. Only now did she notice the ruined star; in shock, Cordelia bent down and gingerly picked up a piece, biting her lip as she assessed it was done for.

It didn't take long for Cordelia to clean up the mess and heft it away into the nearest trash can, vacuuming up any tiny shards she may have missed. At last, she went to the couch, pulling a phone book from the coffee table next to her and searching for a place that might sell tree decorations.

Cordelia called a few numbers, made a few inquiries, but it seemed that no one had quite the ornament she was hoping for. She had just lay down, moping quietly and wondering when Angel would get back, when a knock came suddenly at the door. For a split second, all she could do was stare in that general direction, then she rose, riding the lift up to the first story of the apartment.

Upon opening the door, Cordelia was surprised to find a kind-looking, middle-aged, graying woman standing before her, but she settled right into delivering a sales pitch. "Hi," Cordelia said in a friendly, upbeat tone. "Welcome to Angel Investigations. We're always here to help, day and night... Well, mostly night..."

The woman interrupted, extending one arm towards Cordelia. "Hi," she answered, somewhat timidly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I should have called first, but I wanted the opportunity to see you face to face. You... You are Cordelia, right?"

After a moment of uncertainty, the young brunette nodded. "Yes, that's me," she replied quietly, waiting for the woman to go on.

Cordelia's visitor smiled warmly. "Then you are as lovely as you were made out to be... I've heard a lot about you... Doyle used to talk about you endlessly."

"Doyle?" Cordelia asked. "But... I'm sorry... If you're here to see him..."

"I'm not," the woman assurred. "I'm here to see you. I already know about what happened to him, as heartwrenching as that has been. Your friend, Angel, was kind enough to pay me a visit..." She took a step forward, extending a hand for Cordelia to shake. "Forgive me. Where are my manners?" She paused, looking the younger woman straight in the eye. "My name's Helen... I'm Doyle's mother..."

Part Two

Cordelia had been quick to invite Helen in upon learning this little tidbit, inviting her to sit and offering her some coffee, to which the elder woman was quick to respond, "As long as it's not last week's leftovers."

Cordelia laughed. "I can't believe Doyle told you that one. You use recycled coffee grounds for one week, and no one will let you live it down!" She paused, quickly starting up a pot, then turned and settle on the couch across from her visitor, growing slightly somber. "I miss him very much, even though I've only known him a few months. I can't imagine what it must be like for you."

Helen nodded, saddened. "It's hard," she admitted. "Nothing hurts as much as the pain of losing a child, especially when they're still so young, with so many years left unexplored." She sighed, setting the oversized purse she'd been carrying on the cushion beside her. Leaning forward, Helen said softly, "At least he got to spend the time he had left among friends, especially one he adored so much." She broke out into a small smile. "Doyle thought very highly of you, Cordelia. I don't know if you're aware of just how much you meant to him."

Cordelia bowed her head, feeling tears rise to her eyes. "I'd like to," she said after a moment of silence. A pause, then Cordelia launched into a lengthy monologue with, "I've dated a lot of men through high school and even recently. And I don't think any of them became as dear to me as Doyle did... Not even Xander Harris, the only real serious guy I went out with... Your son did a lot for me, in between finding me a fancy new apartment and... and helping me get rid of a poltergeist from said apartment." Cordelia paused again, looking up. "And he never expected anything in return, save for the occasional thank you. Even to this day." She bit her lip, feeling warm inside from talking this over. "The part that really gets me is, I owe him my life and I never got a chance to thank him for that final act."

Helen waited patiently while Cordelia went to grab two coffee mugs and serve up the beverages, then leaned forward, taking a sip. "I think he knew you would've anyway," she answered. "And maybe, I have a way that you can tell him so." Helen set the mug on the table before her, reaching for her bag and opening it.

Looking a tiny bit uncomfortable, the elder woman said, "It's become something of a tradition in my family, starting with my grandmother, Doyle's great-grandmother... The holidays are very important to us, in that they call for family gatherings, for that special closeness that relatives share. And every Christmas, someone in the family would make a new ornament to decorate the tree with. This year was my sister's turn, but--" Helen removed an object wrapped in newspaper from her bag, opening it to present it to Cordelia. "--I found this in Doyle's apartment when I got the courage to go there. I put some minor finishing touches on it myself, but..." Helen handed the ornament to the younger woman. "I thought he might like you to have it."

Cordelia stared in awe at the beautiful ceramic star, admiring the detail that had gone into it. There were six alternate red and green points extended outward from a center painted in silver, each point adorned with a tiny color coordinated Christmas light. "Wow," she whispered in wonder. "It's amazing... I never figured Doyle as an artist as well."

Helen smiled warmly. "He was very talented, my son was, and very patient. I can only imagine how long it must have taken him to put this together." She stood abruptly. "Well, come on. Let's see how it looks on that tree of yours."

Cordelia nodded, accompanying Helen to the tree and climbing onto the stepping stool to put the ornament on top. Clipping it in place, Cordelia then worked at plugging in the attached cord. Once that was accomplished, she and Helen stepped back to get a better look.

A lone tear escaped Cordelia's eye at this juncture, her spirits lifted as she gazed at this one last thing Doyle had left behind. As if sensing what the younger woman was thinking, Helen stepped up behind her, clasping her shoulders lightly. "If he were here right now, what do you think you'd be telling him right now?" Helen asked.

Cordelia bit her lip, hesitating for a very brief moment. "Thank you, Doyle," she said softly, just loud enough for Helen to hear. And, as odd as it seemed, a great weight lifted from her shoulders as she spoke those words, almost as if he too could hear her and was smiling in gratitude.

Helen moved so she was facing Cordelia, meeting the younger woman's eyes with her own. As if reading what Cordy was thinking, she said, "Maybe he is here, watching over us. It's okay to speak your mind to him as if he were, Cordelia. It just may lead the way to making you feel better."

Cordelia thanked the elder woman, engaging her in a little more conversation about Doyle and what he was like growing up. Finally, Helen announced she'd best be getting home to spend Christmas Eve with her family. She was kind enough to extend an invitation, but Cordelia politely declined, stating that Angel would be back and that she had plans to spend the evening with him.

It wasn't until ten in the evening that Angel finally returned from his mission, which gave Cordelia plenty of time to wrap the gifts she had previously picked out for him. She greeted him with a big grin, asking how things had gone with Miss Susan Jeffries.

"She's fine," Angel replied, removing his jacket and hanging it up. "Apparently, the big danger was that two muggers saw fit to assault her as she was leaving the clinic to walk to her car... A good thing I got there in time; otherwise, Susan would have been shot... and she had three kids waiting for her at home."

Cordelia smiled. "So, someone else's Christmas was saved," she stated in an upbeat tone. Leading him towards the living room, gazing up at the star, she added, "Maybe ours will be just as promising." She paused, throwing a glance at Angel and saying, "And here's hoping that we'll have many more in the years to come. All three of us." Off of Angel's skeptical look, Cordelia filled him in on the visit with Helen, watching as his gaze darted to the new star as she reached the last bit of the story. And, above all else, it was worth it to see his eyes light up with the same amount of wonder she had experienced earlier.

Later, wrapped in a pink terrycloth bathrobe and prepared to spend the night in the bedroom courtesy of Angel (he graciously agreed to take the couch this time), Cordelia only had three words for him as she went off to sleep. "Merry Christmas, Angel."

He looked up, giving a half smile after a moment as he noted the time to be after midnight. "Merry Christmas, Cordelia," Angel answered, despite feeling a touch of irony at the words. *But,* he thought. *If a half demon can leave behind a Christmas legacy and a mortal woman can find peace of mind, then maybe a good vampire can contribute something as well.*