Ficlet - Angel - Married?!?! (original) (raw)

Title: Married?!?!
Author: Jewel21
Rating : PG-13
Show : Angel
Pairing: Hints of Cordelia/Doyle
Type: Stand Alone Fic. Completed.

Summary: This is a missing scene set during 'The Bachelor Party.' Cordelia reacts to Doyle being married.

Author's Notes: Special thanks to Scarlet who beta'd this for me.

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Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own them. If I did, I'd have taken better care of them than Joss did.

Author's Note: This is a missing scene set during 'The Bachelor.' This is what I would have liked to have seen happen. Special thanks to Scarlet who beta'd this for me.

Feedback: Yes, please. I love it lots!
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Married?!?!
by Jewel21

“Cordelia, this is Harry -- my wife.”

It had been hours since Doyle had uttered those words to Cordelia Chase and she still couldn’t get them out of her head.

Pulling up to her apartment, she got out of her car, locked the door behind her and stormed up her walkway to let herself into the darkened building. Before she had even closed the door behind her, the lights came on and she was bathed in a warm glow.

“Doyle is frickin’ married!” Cordelia shrilled loudly as she dumped her bag by the door and stormed into her living room. “Married, Dennis. To some girl named Harry of all things. For the past four years. Oh, and get this! His name isn’t even Doyle. It’s frickin’ Francis. Francis! What kind of a name is Francis?” Cordelia continued to rant as she threw herself onto her couch in a huff.

When she had first found out about Harry she’d been shocked, but as the surprise wore off, she was left fuming and didn’t fully understand why. Aside from the obvious fact that Doyle had lied to her. If there was one thing she absolutely despised was being lied to. Especially by people she trusted and considered to be her friends. Xander Harris had proven to be a liar and god, she so wasn’t going there right now. Mentally shrugging off the visual of Xander’s goofy, cheating face, she sighed angrily and slumped back against the couch cushions.

She could hear the fridge opening in the other room and moments later, a glass of wine floated toward her. Grateful, she took the glass from Dennis, her ghostly roommate, and took a long swallow.

“Dennis?” Cordelia called out softly after a few minutes, wondering if he’d left. She watched as one of the throw pillows on the other end of the couch shifted and a second later she could see the decompression in her couch cushion as Dennis sat down.

Turning to face him, Cordelia took another long sip of wine before speaking.

“God, I’m so furious with him!” Cordelia said. “I just, I can’t even wrap my head around it. Doyle’s married. Mar-ried. That’s like frickin’ huge, you know? Doyle’s someone’s husband. How bizarre is that? Doyle has a wife. You just don’t keep something like that a secret from your friends. For months, no less. And it’s not like they were married briefly and then divorced or whatever. They’re been legally married for years! Okay, well, they’ve been separated or whatever all this time, but still, it’s definitely something that should be brought up in conversation with the people who consider themselves to be your friends.”

Reaching for the afghan on the back of the couch, Cordelia draped it over her lap before continuing. “I mean, it’s not like Doyle didn’t have ample time to let us know, you know? God, I felt so stupid standing there in front them. And then Angel comes in, and I blurt it out all ‘Angel, come meet Doyle’s _wife_’ hoping he’d be just as shocked and surprised as I am. And do you know what happens? Mr. Stoic just shakes her hand like it’s nothing! He didn’t even hesitate. He was all calm and collected and not even a little surprised and grrrr, it’s soooo infuriating!”

Gulping down the last of her wine, Cordelia put the glass down on the floor next to her before continuing.

“She’s not even that pretty. I mean, she’s not like hideous or anything. But there’s nothing special about her, unless you like the school teacher look. I’m sure she’s nice or whatever but she could definitely use some help in the fashion department because her clothes totally reminded me of the softer side of Sears. And some leave in conditioner wouldn’t hurt either... And before you say anything, I am so not jealous. I am hurt, and angry, and those are totally justified reactions when you learn someone you’ve been spending months with has been keeping such a huge secret from you! I mean, god, what else is Doyle keeping from me?” Cordelia said before finally running out of breath.

She could feel the wine slowly working it’s way through her system as a warm sinking sensation began to spread from her feet and move slowly up her body with each passing second. Sighing, Cordelia wrapped the afghan more tightly around her body before speaking.

“It’s just…we had like a moment last night, you know? When that vampire attacked me and that loser I was on a date with ran off like a big giant girl and left me for dead? Doyle was totally there for me, and he was just so…brave and stuff. It was the first time that I thought Doyle had…depth. And it figures that just as I start to think maybe the guy doesn’t have zero potential, this happens. God, why do these things always happen to me? And not to mention, if Doyle was married all this time, then what the heck was up with all the flirting and the banter?”

Cordelia grew silent as the glass she had placed earlier on the floor rose up and floated toward the kitchen. A moment later, it returned filled once more with wine. Smiling appreciatively, Cordelia reached for the glass and took another sip as Dennis sat back down.

“Okay, I would totally deny this if it ever came out, but well… Doyle’s not bad, you know? I mean, yeah, his clothes are horrid, and sometimes he could use a shower, or two, but he’s funny in a self-deprecating way. And he’s got like really nice eyes. And the accent doesn’t hurt either even if sometimes I have no idea what the heck he’s saying. I’m not saying I would date him or anything, because after dating Xander Harris I vowed never again to lower myself to someone else’s level, but what I’m trying to say is I thought we were friends. Good friends. Or on the verge of becoming really good friends. And friends confide in one another. Ugh, and you wanna know the really infuriating part? It’s that while a really huge part of me totally wants to punch Doyle in the face for lying, another part of me wants to like hug him or something. He just looked really sad and heartbroken when Harry showed up and told him she was getting remarried. You should have seen his face. He looked like a kicked puppy. And it’s just so annoying! Because I’m supposed to want to hurt Doyle for lying not want to make him feel better. God!”

Gulping down the last of her wine, Cordelia put the glass down on the coffee table. Settling back into the couch cushions, Cordelia sleepily played with the fringes on the afghan as she once again thought of Doyle and Harry. Months of working with Doyle, she’d grown used to his flirting and banter and while she often scoffed at his advances, she secretly enjoyed the attention. She liked the thought of Doyle having a crush on her and she didn’t like seeing that same look of longing that Doyle sometimes directed at her being directed at Harry. Feeling a headache coming on, Cordelia stifled a yawn.

“Anyway, I’m tired and I should probably get some sleep. I want to get to the office early tomorrow. Angel totally kicked me out of the room when Doyle and Harry were talking and I have no idea what happened after I left. And even though I’m still kinda mad at Doyle, I want to make sure he’s okay. You really should have seen him, Dennis. He just looked so sad and pitiful.”

Standing up, Cordelia slowly made her way toward her bedroom while stifling another yawn.

“Night, Dennis. Thanks for listening.” Cordelia murmured before disappearing into her room and closing her door shut behind her.

Lying in the darkness of her room, Cordelia closed her eyes and tried not to throw things as unwanted images of Doyle and Harry plagued her thoughts. A few minutes later, she could hear the water running from the kitchen and figured Dennis was washing the glass of wine she had finished earlier as well as the breakfast plates she’d dumped in the sink that morning. Turning over, she buried her face into her pillow as the sound of running water slowly lured her into a fitful sleep.

Fin