“Totally. I haven’t talked to Xander in absolute ages!” Cordelia gushed happily. “It’s funny. I never thought I would forgive him for cheating on me with Willow, but I so enjoyed seeing him. I mean, we’ve been cool with each other for a long time, but we never actually got together and tested it.”

“Se ye’re okay wit the whole demon thing,” Doyle pressed.

“Absolutely. I mean, aside from the whole ick factor, it hasn’t changed who he is. It was just strange. Xander was always the pseudo normal one in our group,” Cordy mused thoughtfully. “There was Buffy, Miss Supergirl herself, and Angel, our resident vampire, of course, and we had Oz the werewolf and Willow the witch, in more ways than one, and Anya, the reformed demon, and Giles, Mr. Watcher Person. And me, of course, with my beauty and wit and charm. But Xander, he was the only one who didn’t have anything really to contribute to the group. He just idolized Buffy, tormented Angel, and annoyed the hell out of Giles. Now he’s, like, one of them. We never actually met a demon we didn’t fight. Except Anya, of course, but she technically lost her demonality, or whatever you’d call it. So it’s weird, knowing Xander is like, this, half-demon person. But I’m cool with it, ‘cause he’s still Xander,” she rambled. Doyle sat back and watched her.

“I’m always amazed at how ye take things in stride,” he observed cautiously. “Ye never let ennathin’ really surprise ye. Ye just get over it an’ move on.”

“When you live in Sunnydale, things stop surprising you early on,” Cordelia explained with a shrug. She dropped down on the couch that Doyle was sprawled on and nestled her head against his chest. “After the second or third time a body shows up with teeth marks in its neck, you stop caring. After the second or third time you get kidnapped and become an attempted sacrifice to something really icky, you know that the world is weird. After that, nothing really surprises you.”

“What would ye do if ye learned somethin’ ‘bout someone ye loved that changed the way ye saw them?” Doyle pressed. “What if that person lied ta ye ‘bout it?”

“I’d so kill anyone who lied to me,” Cordelia spouted angrily. She sat up, brushing her hair back from her face. “I can take just about anything, but I don’t like it when I’m lied to. Lying always sets you up for bad surprises.”

“I thought ye just said nothin’ surprises ye ennamore,” Doyle objected weakly.

“I’m talking about normal, everyday surprises that you just don’t expect,” Cordelia said. “Like when I found out Xander was cheating on me with Willow. Cheating is a normal thing, it’s not supernatural or anything. So when I found out, I was surprised. And pissed. Very pissed.”

“But what if it’s a lie ‘bout somethin’ supernatural?” Doyle continued. “Somethin’ ta protect ye an’ not just ta hide the truth from ye?”

“What are you getting at, Doyle?” Cordelia asked, in a rare burst of insight. “You’re pushing the issue. Why?”

“Because in our line o’ work, ye get lied ta a lot,” Doyle covered smoothly. “Demons an’ such aren’t always forthcomin’ wit the truth.”

“What else can you expect from demons?” Cordelia shrugged. “Besides, it isn’t such a big deal unless the person lying to me is someone I care about. Of course, if someone else lies to me about something important that concerns me, then of course I’m going to go into a full-on evil possession thing. I just don’t like being lied to, period.”

“Cordy, why are ye se down on demons?” Doyle asked pensively. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she snuggled down against him once more. “Surely ye’ve met one or two what didn’t disgust ye?”

“One or two,” she admitted reluctantly. “But not on a general basis. It’s rare that I find a demon I like.”

“We-they’re not so bad, once you get to know them. Most of them, anyway,” Doyle hurriedly said, hoping to cover his near blunder at including himself among the demon race.

“Doyle, do we really have to spend the rest of the night discussing demons?” Cordelia whined plaintively. She slid her hand to his waist. “I can think of other things I’d rather be doing than talking about non-humans.”

Doyle sighed. He knew that the confrontation couldn’t be put off much longer, but for the time being, he liked the direction Cordelia’s thoughts were taking, rather than his own. He bent his head and kissed her deeply, ignoring the voice that told him it would be smarter to tell her the truth than to give in to his primal urges. For tonight, at least, he was going to continue to listen to the instinctual part of himself. He stood up, drawing her into his arms and carrying her to the bedroom. “Me too, Cordy me love, me too.”