“Doyle. It’s Xander. Is Cordelia there?” Xander asked.

“Of course she is. It’s ‘er apartment,” Doyle reminded him. He rolled over. “Cordelia, Princess, it’s the ex.” Cordelia took the receiver and glared at Doyle.

“His name’s Xander, and he might be your brother. Be nice,” she scolded. She lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, Xand,” she said cheerily.

“Tell the pair that they need ta wait ‘til the sun rises before they start disturbin’ decent folk from their beds,” Doyle mumbled before falling back asleep. Cordelia ignored him.

“What’s going on?” she asked Xander.

“Mom found the pictures last night, and she faxed them to us this morning,” Xander explained.

“Why did you ask for me, then?” Cordelia inquired, puzzled. “I thought Doyle and Angel were the ones you were working with. I haven’t really been a part of it.”

“I don’t think Doyle likes me too well,” Xander admitted ruefully. “Angel’s the one who called and let me know that the pictures came in this morning. I just thought you guys might like to know. I don’t know if either of you will want to be here,” he hedged, not sure how much Doyle had told Cordelia. He knew that Doyle needed to identify the people in the pictures, but did not want to alert Cordelia to the fact that Doyle was the prime suspect.

“Doyle told me all about it. I’ll get him up and drag him to the office,” Cordelia promised. Xander chuckled.

“Just one more reason for him to love me,” Xander acknowledged wryly. Cordelia grinned.

“It’s not you. He doesn’t even know you,” Cordelia said easily. “I think he’s just overwhelmed with everything that’s happening to him. Finding out his fiancée’s old boyfriend might be his brother has probably messed up his mind. More so than it already was, anyway,” she amended.

“He told you about that?” Xander asked cautiously.

“Yeah. I have to say, I was pretty ticked off at him. But I love him, so I forgave him. I tell you, though, he better not make lying to me a habit, or can you say separate bedrooms?” she asked with a smirk. Xander winced. He knew only too well how spiteful Cordelia could be when things didn’t go the way she wanted them to.

“So, I’ll see you later?” Xander asked, anxious to be out of this particular conversation.

“Yeah. Maybe around eleven?” Cordelia offered, checking the clock. “That gives me two hours. It should be enough.”

“Eleven, then,” Xander agreed. They said good-bye and hung up.

“Doyle,” Cordelia prodded, shaking him. He moaned and rolled over. “Doyle,” she repeated, shaking him again. When he failed to respond, she glared at him. “Allen Francis Doyle, I’m talking to you!” she shrieked, and he woke up instantly.

“What?” he grumbled. “I was sleeping.”

“You’re not now,” she pointed out. He snorted.

“I’m well aware of that, Cordy,” he said wryly. “What was so all-fired important that ye had ta holler in me ear?”

“Xander’s mom faxed him the pictures. He needs you to go look at them,” Cordelia informed him, swinging her legs out of the bed and standing up. “Dennis, it’s cold in here,” she complained, and instantly a warm draft blew across her legs. “That’s better,” she said happily. She stood up and went to the closet. “Dennis, have you been hiding my Gucci shoes?” she asked. “I haven’t been able to find them the last two times I’ve wanted to wear them.” Her bottom drawer slid open, and the shoes emerged from underneath her workout sweats. “Clever. You knew I wasn’t going near that drawer anytime soon,” she realized with a smile. “But quit hiding my clothes. If you’re going to bug anyone, go bug Doyle.”

“Hey, let’s not,” Doyle protested. “He doesn’t like me ennaway, ye don’t need ta go encouragin’ him,” he added with a pout.

“Baby,” she teased cheerfully. She examined the contents of her closet before pulling out a pair of black Capri pants and a liquid silver halter top. She headed for the bathroom and pulled her toothbrush from its holder. “Do you need in here before I take my shower?” she asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Better let me take care o’ business,” Doyle said, reluctantly pulling himself out of the bed. “If I don’t get in there, ye’ll be ready ta go before I’ve even brushed me teeth.” He walked in behind her, waiting for her to get done with the sink. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head, gazing at their reflections in the mirror. They looked so perfect together, although he would have thought that even if they didn’t. He looked lovingly at Cordelia’s reflection, happily wrapped up in his arms, and thought for the millionth time that he was the luckiest man in the world.

“Excuse me, Mr. ‘It doesn’t bother me to smother you before either of us has taken a shower,’ but I still have morning hair,” Cordelia complained. “Let me get in the shower. We only have an hour and a half before we have to meet Xander and Angel at the office.” Doyle let her go while the shower turned on and Dennis adjusted the temperature knobs to Cordelia’s liking.

“Wish the ghost was se considerate of me needs,” Doyle grumbled, brushing his teeth while Cordelia stepped underneath the water’s hot spray.

“You can always take advantage of Dennis’s consideration of me,” Cordelia reminded him, lathering her hair.

“How so?” Doyle asked, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing out his mouth.

“Well, you need to take a shower too, right? To economize on water, you can always share mine,” she offered lightly. Doyle wasted no time in shucking his boxers and leaping into the shower with her.

Forty minutes later, Cordelia was sitting at her make-up table while Doyle reclined on the bed, flipping through on of her Frederick’s of Hollywood catalogues. “How do ye woman fit inta these little scraps of material?” Doyle wondered, concealing his admiration for the scantily clad underwear models.

“By knowing we don’t have to be in them for long,” Cordelia responded, her lips curving into a grin. Doyle groaned.

“Ye like temptin’ me, don’t ye, Princess?” he pouted.

“Mmm. I like it better when *you* tempt *me*,” Cordy admitted. “Unfortunately, we have to go to the office, so there’ll be none of that this morning.”

“Damn,” Doyle muttered. Cordelia laughed.

Doyle wandered into the living room and turned on the TV while Cordelia continued to do her hair and makeup. Thirty minutes later she announced she was ready, and the two of them gazed at each other. “You’re finally going to find out if Xander is your brother,” Cordelia said softly. Doyle nodded, swallowing. “You okay?”

“As okay as I’ll ever be,” Doyle said gamely. “Let’s go.”