”A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal”
-- Oscar Wilde
Doyle was obviously in a defiant mood, and Angel didn’t want to fight him, but then again, he didn’t know what else to do. This whole thing between Wesley and Doyle infuriated him. He had seen that Wesley had been taken with Doyle, but to actually take advantage of Doyle’s confusion was just so utterly unlike him. The trouble was that the alternative was even worse, if Doyle had initiated this as a means to prove his independency of Angel. Okay, so Doyle had proved his point, that he could sleep with anyone he very well liked and there was nothing Angel could do about it. It didn’t change the fact that someone would get hurt and that this was a damn stupid thing to do.
Gunn was sitting with a cup of coffee looking through the files of a minor case. He refused to let the bad attitude of the others bother him and didn’t say much. All in all, it was a situation that couldn’t last for long. Doyle was the one to finally speak up.
”Listen, if you’re going to put me in the corner for bad behaviour at least bloody say that! I don’t think I’ve deserved the silent treatment.”
”You’ve clearly stated that your personal life is none of my business,” Angel said calmly, not meeting Doyle’s eyes. ”I’m simply following your wishes.”
”Well, is there no status between misled child and leper that you could reserve for me?”
Angel took a deep, angry breath. ”What is it you want from me? When I care, you go ballistic, and when I leave you alone it’s the same thing.”
”I want...” Doyle shouted, unable to say anything else. Then he relaxed, an his voice was back to normal when he replied, ”I want you to admit the possibility that I might do something right on my own.”
”I never said you couldn’t,” Angel replied in defense. ”I’m glad you found a job. And moving out was probably a good idea. But going straight from us into Wesley’s bed? Why did you have to go do something incredibly stupid like that?”
Gunn had been more or less ignoring them, but at the mentioning of Wesley’s bed he looked up in shock. The other two were too angry to even notice.
”Because it’s what I want, Angel,” Doyle said. ”I didn’t do it to rebel, I’m not fifteen. I did it because I wanted to feel him under me. I did it because running my mouth over every part of his body felt better than anything I’ve done for years. Let me tell you something about Wesley, Angel. He’s not just smart and well-behaved and good with a crossbow. He’s a pretty good lay, too.”
”Jesus!” Gunn yelled, clearly told much more than he wanted to know at this point. Slamming down the file, he left the lobby to go outside. Doyle silenced and watched Angel like a cat on its guard.
”And telling me those details?” Angel finally asked. ”What was that all about?”
Doyle opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. There was a strange expression on his face, something that might be interpreted as remorse. ”I need some change.”
Angel was puzzled by this until Doyle clarified, ”Do you have some I can borrow?”
”You want me to loan you *money*?” he asked, disbelieving.
”Just some change.” Whatever Doyle had in mind, it was clearly important, and although Angel wasn’t ready to give up the fight, he found himself handing Doyle slightly less than a dollar in small coins.
”Thanks,” Doyle said, hurrying outside before Angel even had time to ask what was going on. When he had gotten himself together enough to follow, he couldn’t find Doyle, just Gunn that sat on the sidewalk looking as if he had been tackled by an elephant. Well, that was a later problem.
”Where did he go?” Angel asked, and Gunn nodded down the street. Some distance away there was a payphone, and as Angel watched, Doyle finished his conversation and hung up, but without leaving the booth. Angel started to walk up to him, but before he was fully there, the phone rang and Doyle yanked it off the hook so fast he almost dropped it.
”...thought you’d faint just from hearing my voice,” Angel heard Doyle say as he came closer, and he stopped, uncertain of what to do.
”Oh, he did, did he?” Doyle looked up at Angel, and although his expression was annoyed, there was also sympathy mixed into it.
”Your mother?” Angel mouthed, and when Doyle nodded he returned to the sidewalk, giving them some privacy. He sat down next to Gunn, who still seemed rather shook up by the revelation.
”Did you know?” he asked in a low voice. ”About Wesley being...”
To Angel, there were many things to disapprove of in this, but souled or not he was a vampire, to which sex was a question of dominance instead of reproduction. The thought that Gunn could feel threatened by any of this had never occurred to him, and he didn’t quite know the answer to Gunn’s question.
”I never smelled a man on him until today,” he finally said. He wondered if he was supposed to mention the times he had smelled arousal, but decided against it. That was none of Gunn’ business anyway.
”Oh. Well, I guess you would know.” Gunn still seemed like he was about to be sick, so they just sat there, waiting for Doyle to finish his conversation or the others to return.
As it happened, the car pulled into the driveway before Doyle had made any sign of putting away the phone. Both Angel and Gunn stood up as Cordelia and Wesley got out of the car.
”How did it go?” Angel asked Cordelia, who lit up in triumph.
”We did it! Of course, they discovered we weren’t supposed to be there a little bit too soon for my liking, but since we got away, who’s complaining, right? I’m just hoping they didn’t take our license number.”
Wesley listened to her with a proud and amused smile, that quickly disappeared when Gunn, keeping a distance, asked him, ”Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were gay?”
Wesley paled, and he looked over at Angel, wanting an explanation. ”Did Doyle...”
”He’s over there, talking to his mother,” Angel said, nodding in the direction of the payphone. ”We had a bit of a fall-out.”
”I see.” Wesley’s eyes traveled back to Gunn, and he was desperately trying to figure out what to say. He wished that Doyle hadn’t told the others. Granted, Angel already knew, but he would never have brought it up in public unless Doyle did first. And Doyle -- damn him, he *knew* Wesley wasn’t ready for any of this! Gunn’s eyes were hard to read, but there was definitely revulsion in that mix of emotion, and Wesley knew he couldn’t take it one more time. Not from his best friend. ”Gunn, I’m sorry. I’m not actually...” But his mind was still with Doyle, who was standing a few yards away oblivious of what was going on, and he gave up the excuses. ”It never came up.”
”Don’t you give me that!” Gunn replied. ”Being gay is a little bit to big a thing to ’never come up’. You’ve seen me *naked*, for crying out loud!”
”Gunn, please, I’ve seen Cordelia naked as well. I’m not a sex maniac.” It would probably not do any good to inform Gunn that he’d never been attracted to him. Found him attractive, yes, but that wasn’t the same.
”We’re friends, Wesley!”
Present tense. At least that was something. ”I’m sorry. I suppose I should have told you.” He reached out to put his hand at Gunn’s shoulder, and Gunn automatically took half a step backwards to avoid the touch. Wesley let his hand fall down, mortified. ”I see.”
”No, you fucking don’t. I’m not going to complain about how you run your life, and Doyle’s a good enough guy. I just don’t want you to touch me right now.”
Wesley nodded slowly. ”So we’re... cool?”
Gunn glared at him. ”You lied to me. We’re nowhere near cool.”
That night, after Doyle had finished his first hours of work, they were sitting in Wesley’s kitchen, sipping some coffee. Wesley didn’t know what else Doyle had poured into it, and he didn’t want to know either.
He wanted Doyle to explain it all, and at the same time he wanted Doyle to say nothing at all, to simply take him into his mouth like he had done in the morning. As it was, neither of them spoke at all for a very long time.
”Christ, I’m so sorry,” Doyle finally sighed, and Wesley turned to look at him, silently. ”Not that the others know -- I think it’s probably for the best, even though I know you don’t agree with me. But they shouldn’t have found out like this. The way I threw it at Angel just to hurt him... well, you deserve better than that.”
”Yes,” Wesley said quietly. He hadn’t meant to, but he didn’t regret it.
”I used to do that to my mum, you know.” Doyle took a deep gulp from his cup, and then stood up, pacing the room. ”After my demon surfaced, I’d call her and tell her about my gambles and my one-night stands.”
Wesley winced, but hoped he hadn’t let it show. ”Was that why you called her today?”
”I guess.” Doyle’s face was suddenly lit up by a smile. ”At least this time I had something good to tell her.”
”About us?” Wesley felt like he was going to faint. ”You told your *mother* about us?”
”Yeah.” Doyle misunderstood the reason for Wesley’s reaction. ”I didn’t say your name or anything, just that I’d met this guy.”
”Met?” Wesley asked. He was frightened at the devotion Doyle seemed willing to put into this, but also in a strange way very happy. ”I thought we were just...”
”What? Fucking? I’ve told you, it’s up to you.” Doyle sighed deeply. ”Listen, I know I’ve been an arse. You didn’t exactly choose Prince Charming to go to bed with you. I’ve done some incredibly stupid things in my day, and I can just hope that you want me even though I’m an arse... because I only have to say ’arse’ to want yours.”
He was standing within inches from Wesley now, and Wesley rose to pull him even closer. ”You can have it.”
”Are you sure?”
”I’m sure. But maybe not right now.” Wesley took Doyle’s head in his hands and kissed him, speaking between the kisses. ”If you’re quite serious... if you want more than the sex... I want us to talk.”
”Talk about what?” Doyle asked, trying to catch his breath.
”Anything. Tell me about your mother.”
This surprised Doyle so that he started to laugh in the middle of the next kiss. ”You’re funny, you know that?”
”Tell me.” And it wasn’t just small talk to listen to Doyle’s voice, Wesley really wanted to know. He wanted to hear about this woman, who had been told all the worst details of her son’s life and still didn’t hang up when he called her.
”Okay. But not here.” They went into the living room without for as much as a moment letting go of each other. Doyle was the first one to sit down, and as Wesley sat down as well he found that every part of his body was accompanied with one of Doyle’s. Slender arms rested on his arms, legs were lying by his legs, the breaths of a chest moved behind his back and soft lips touched his ear. Strange, how comforting that was. After all, Doyle was much smaller than Wesley, and in a shaky state of mind.
”What did she say?” Wesley asked, leaning back. The breaths made him feel like he was sitting in a living rocking chair.
”Not much, mostly she just listened to me. Cried a little too, I think. It’s hard to tell with her.”
”Was she angry?”
”Why would she be angry?” Doyle crossed his arms over Wesley’s chest, hands resting on his shoulders, and Wesley put his own over them to hold them there. ”She had a thing or two to say about me not calling sooner, of course, but I think she was relieved I was alive and not worse off.” A brief kiss on the back of his neck. ”She used to tell me that if I ever did something so bad I didn’t want to tell anyone, not even myself, I should still tell her and she would try to help me. And I guess she always has. It’s funny, she was never the touchy feely type. Da’s feelings were always so dramatic, he’d laugh and shout like in an opera or something, but not mum. She’d just tell me to play outside and mind my clothes, but...” He shook his head, unable to explain it. ”It didn’t matter. I knew she loved me.”
”So, did you?” Wesley half-turned to see Doyle’s expression.
”Did I what?”
”Play outside and mind your clothes?”
”Usually not... Once I filled my pockets with blackberries.” Doyle grinned a little and loosened his hands from Wesley in order to gesture with them. ”Mum made me wash my trousers three times in water filled with vinegar and stuff. I thought all the skin on my hands would peel off. Still, someone had to do it.” He laughed. ”Sometimes we played cards for the household chores. Took me ages to learn how to win.”
”Tell me something else,” Wesley begged, indulging in these picturesque childhood tales.
”We used to watch the soaps together. Me, mum and aunt Judy. Corry at first, and later Eastenders too. I’d sit in aunt Judy’s lap. You wouldn’t believe how fat she was, must’ve weighed two hundred pounds. Still does, I guess.”
He nudged Wesley gently. ”Your turn.”
”What?” Wesley was shaken. He hadn’t expected this and moved aside so he sat with his face to Doyle, several inches away from him.
Doyle, clearly puzzled, reached out a hand, holding Wesley closer again. ”Your turn to tell me something. What did you do when you were a kid?”
Wesley searched his mind desperately for a suitable memory, something that would match the ones Doyle seemed to have so many of.
”Once I went down to the stream,” he started. ”I had my schoolbooks with me, and I don’t know what came over me, but I started ripping pages from my Cicero and folded them into boats. It became a whole armada, floating down the water one by one. I’ve never felt so free in my life.”
”You ruined an expensive book like that?” Doyle’s voice was filled with the fascinated horror of someone who always had to think about what things cost. ”What happened when you came home?”
Wesley filled with irrational fear, echoing what he had felt as a boy. ”That wouldn’t make a very good anecdote.”
During the extended silence that followed, Doyle ran his fingers along Wesley’s arms. That really tickled awfully. Finally, Wesley turned his head.
”My arse?”
Doyle seemed about to say something, but then just nodded, and they proceeded into the bedroom.
”How’s it going?” Wesley asked as they returned to the Hyperion late the next afternoon.
”Gunn’s out finding out,” Cordelia said, ignoring her display screen for a few seconds, ”but nobody’s tried to kill us, so we can probably assume they didn’t get the license plate number. Angel’s resting. *She* offered to be here just in case.” She nodded towards the staircase, where a large Mastema demon was sitting with an axe in her lap. The demon gave them a friendly wave. Wesley noticed that her bald head was smooth and her skin a matt grey, not silver. Both were signs of female sex in her species, but she had almost nothing that likened her to any human woman.
”I thought we weren’t bringing in the demons at this stage?” Wesley asked, quite surprised by the sight.
”She’s just guarding the place,” Cordelia said. ”She’s promised not to use violence unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
”Uh-huh, and that’s why she’s carrying an axe,” Doyle said cheerfully.
Wesley walked up to the demoness and extended his hand. ”Hello. My name is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce.”
She shook it somewhat awkwardly, as if she wasn’t used to such a greeting, which was probably the case. ”I am Three Eltha,” she said, with a slight accent. Then she corrected herself: ”Three in the feminine.”
”I beg your pardon?” Wesley asked, momentarily confused. Doyle walked up behind him to hear what she had to say.
The demon seemed puzzled by Doyle, although it wasn’t clear if it was because he stood a little too close to Wesley or because she recognized him as a half-breed. She didn’t bring either subject up, simply replied to Wesley’s question: ”I was the third child.”
It didn’t take long for Wesley to associate this to the Latin he had been forced to study as a child. ”I wasn’t aware it was a custom among Mastema to name their children after numbers,” he said with true interest. ”All the ones known to history seemed to have individual names.”
”They were rich and powerful,” said Three. ”Among the poor, the family names are enough. We will not be remembered after our deaths.”
”If we manage to do this, you just might be,” Doyle said, joining the conversation.
”Thank you, little mutt,” she replied, and although both her speech and body language seemed flat to a human, it was obvious that she meant the nickname in a friendly way. ”But that’s not why I fight.”
”Her brothers were killed,” Cordelia filled in from her position by the counter, and Three nodded.
”Two and Five. Their skin had been taken, but the bodies were left to rot.”
”I’m terribly sorry,” Wesley said, and Doyle made a sympathetic grimace. Her reply was hardly the expected.
”It was a waste. No honourable hunters would ever have left the meat.”
”Meat!?” Cordelia cried. ”That is so gross!”
”Cordelia, do show some respect for other cultures,” Wesley said, although he was feeling slightly nauseous himself. Doyle’s face was even paler than normal.
”It saddens me that my brothers are dead,” Three said. ”That they were killed by people who didn’t use the bodies properly is a disgrace.” Seeing no understanding in their faces, she went on: ”We treat our prey with respect. They deserve not to be wasted, tortured or imprisoned. In that, we are unlike most other species, I know.”
There was a touch of despise in her words, not much, but enough to tell them that even though the Mastema had nothing against humans, there was no doubt in Three’s mind which was the superior species. With that attitude, and that physique, it was lucky she was on their side.
It was right after dark when they got the unwelcome guests. Gunn was the only one to be in the lobby at the time, but the others soon rushed out at the sounds of a fight. When Cordelia saw the half dozen vampires in full game face, she grabbed a stake and glared at Doyle, who had joined her on the staircase. ”You just had to move out and make this place open for visits, didn’t you?”
”Not sure half-human counts in those matters,” Doyle replied, joining the fight as well. One of the vampires avoided his attack easily and then lunged at him. He dodged without even thinking about it. ”Why are we killing each other anyway?” he asked the vampire he was fighting.
”We heard you were the ones to ruin our drinks supply,” the vampire growled.
”Point taken.”
Another point was about to be taken too -- in his flesh. Brachen demons tasted awful to vampires, but not eaten and not killed were two different things, and he looked around desperately for help. Angel had quickly disposed of his first enemy and was now fighting two vampires at once. Gunn had trouble enough with one, and although Wesley had managed to get hold of a crossbow, his first shot was aimed at Cordelia’s vampire. Fortunately, it was a good shot. After the vampire had exploded into dust, it was Cordelia who grasped Doyle’s unfortunate situation and threw the first thing she came across. It happened to be the third volume of the Encyclopaedia Ingaria.
The vampire fell over and Doyle managed to dive away. He plunged in his stake, but in his haste, he missed the heart, and the vampire simply grunted in surprised pain.
”You’re my lunch” it said, grabbing Cordelia by the throat in one hand. While she hung there half-choking, kicking wildly, he went after Doyle, whose attempt to get out of range wasn’t fast enough. The vampire sniffed him over and shook his head, disappointed, but didn’t let go. ”You I’ll do for fun.”
That was when Three entered, sadly without her customary axe. Due to her bulky appearance she moved slowly, but not so slow she couldn’t grab the vampire before he knew what hit him. Although he made some attempts to resist, they were more pathetic than anything else. She pounded him into a wall and, having no weapon herself, just kept him there and growled, ”Kill it!”
Cordelia was still trying to catch her breath, but Doyle managed to get over and stake the vampire. Seeing the cloud of dust under her hands, Three gave a rumbling sound that might be considered a purr.
While the vampires were still taking in the appearance of a fierce demoness on the scene, Gunn, whose fighting had become increasingly strained, finally managed to kill his. That meant the two fighting Angel were the only ones left. They gave each other a startled look, and then the toughest of them moved on to Three, clearly realizing that she was the most dangerous enemy.
He was both smarter and more experienced a fighter than his friend, ducking and dodging most of Three’s punches, at the same time making sure she was always between him and Wesley’s crossbow. Slippery as quicksilver, he constantly managed to be where Three’s hands were not, until she finally managed to grab his wrist. It was an awkward hold, but a very firm one, and the vampire panicked. In spite of everything he had learned on how demons taste, he must have decided that necessity knows no law, because he attacked with his teeth, taking Three’s rough-skinned neck into his jaws. Angel saw Three’s predicament and that the others were in no condition to help her, and his battle became more intense. Seeing the vampire sink its teeth into her neck, he gave one last hard strike with his stake.
”Don’t bi...” Angel’s vampire started, before turning to dust.
The last vampire was still holding on to Three’s neck, but his grip slackened and he stumbled back. A look of confused bliss crept over his face.
”Enjoy it while it lasts,” Three muttered and pushed him away, straight into Angel’s arms. He was dust within seconds.
”What was that all about?” Cordelia asked in utter astonishment.
Three sat down heavily, apparently quite exhausted by the fight. ”Vampires are affected very quickly by our skin.”
”So he was intoxicated,” Wesley said slowly, his researcher mind enjoying these new facts. Everyone was tired, and they sat down closer to each other than necessary, seeking comfort in each other’s presence like hurt animals.
”From what they told me, that was what they wanted in the first place,” Gunn said. ”Which leads to the obvious question: how the hell did they know it was our doing?”
”We called demons.” Cordelia’s voice was hoarse and shaky. ”Seems we called some of the wrong ones.”
”What I want to know is if the lab people know it as well,” Angel said grimly.
”I don’t think they do,” Gunn replied. ”There seemed to be some confusion over there, but I don’t think they really knows what’s happening, and much less what’s causing it. If the word’s big among the demons though, it’s just a question of time before they learn it.”
”I have heard nothing, except from you,” Three said. ”If the gossip hasn’t reached us, it’s probably not common knowledge yet. The vampires may have found out by coincidence.”
”Still, one tattle-tale is all it takes. We’d better keep good check in the future.”
”Three?” Wesley asked, trying to tie his thoughts together. ”How many people know you’re here?”
”My family.”
”Do you trust them?”
”They’re my family.” There was a growl in Three’s voice, and Wesley took it as a yes.
”I suggest you don’t tell anyone else, and keep your ears and eyes open. We can probably stand our own here, but we will need more people outside the office, just in case.”
”We got Johnny and the guys,” Doyle pointed out. ”And Gunn’s people.”
”Great fighters,” Gunn said. ”But human. Wes is right, we could use a demon on our side. What do you say?”
Three stared at them. With a face like that, it was hard to tell her emotions.
”I will have my vengeance and I will aid you in yours. If you think spying is the best method, that’s what I will do.”
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