Chapter 2 – Extra Body
Angel walked down the stairs into the dusty lobby, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was 3:37 in the after noon, waking time for this vampire. He walked past the front desk where Cordelia sat, and without saying a word and poured himself a hot cup of coffee. He drained it.
“If I talk to you now, will you growl at me?” Cordelia asked, eyeing Angel warily.
Humoring Cordy, Angel growled at her.
“Rough night?” She asked.
Angel sat down the coffee mug, picked up the message pad, “Something like that.” He mumbled, and went into his office.
Cordy scoffed, “Ok, Tom Cruise, have it your way.”
Doyle stepped in through the front doors, “Hiya, Cordy.”
“Hi, Doyle.”
“Has the master awaken yet?”
“Yes,” Cordy said a little distressed. “He came down, drank coffee, growled at me, picked up his messages, mumbled something, and locked himself in his office.” She paused, looked up ay Doyle. “What are we going to do to get him back to his normal self?”
“There’s somethin’ not normal about him?” Doyle asked dumbly.
She scoffed for the second time this morning, “Are you blind or just stupid? He’s been so extra broody lately.”
“Extra!” Doyle faked hysteria, putting his hands on his cheeks opening his mouth and shaking his head slowly. “Lordy, someone help…he’s extra broody. We’re all goin’ to die.”
“What’s going on?” A familiar voice said to them. They both looked to the front door of the Hyperian hotel, just in time to see Wesley stumble – almost falling flat on his face - down the stairs.
Doyle spoke, “Angel’s extra broody…according to Cordy.”
“Hey,” She protested. “He growled at me!”
“Growled?” asked Wesley, “Oh, my.”
Cordy snorted, “At least Wesley’s sincere.”
“Come on, Cordy, how bad could it be?” Doyle asked.
All of a sudden a loud crash sounded. Wesley, Doyle, and Cordelia looked at each other dumbly then scrambled to Angel’s office – where the sound came from.
Cordy swung open the door, “What the Hell?” The trio stood dumb founded in the doorway.
Angel was sitting in his chair, feet crossed on the desk, hands stacked behind his head, and eyes closed. There were books everywhere. The bookshelf was turned over and one of the windows looking into the lobby was shattered.
Doyle commented, “I guess you didn’t find what ever it was you were looking for?” The question was directed toward Angel. He didn’t answer.
Wesley went and stood face – to – face with the shattered window. ((I noticed a book that had recently captivated Angel, lying on the floor in the lobby.))
“I’m thinking that you weren’t pleased with the ending.” Wesley commented.
Angel stood up, retrieved the book, “What?” Angel noticed everyone staring at him.
“What?” Cordy mocked him, “You just threw a book through a five inch thick fiberglass window. And you ask ‘What’?”
Angel looked dumbly at the window, then the book, then window, and then book. “Sorry.” Was all he could think to say. He looked his seat behind the desk again.
Doyle spoke, “Angel, man, we’re worried about you. You’ve been extra broody lately and that little temper tantrum, didn’t do our worrying much good.”
Cordy, appalled, “Doyle, what’s this, not two seconds ago you were making fun of me for being worried.”
“Cordy, shut – up!” Doyle said bravely.
“Guys.” Angel said getting their attention once again. “I think I’m just a little tired, no need to worry…or fight.”
“Tired?” Doyle asked. “You’re not ti-. Vision!”
Angel leaped toward Doyle, setting him on the couch, so he wouldn’t hurt himself.
((Blonde. Red. Black. Crying. Fighting. Yelling. Running. Falling. She looks so familiar…Pain. Tears of blood. Betrayal. Family.
“Forever. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
“I love you, Ionian.”
“Don’t leave me?”
“Never.”
“What would you have done?”))
The vision was over.
Cordy ran from the room and returned with a glass of water and some asprin. Doyle took them gladly. "
"You okay?" Angel asked.
"Alright I guess."
"What was the vision about?"
"I'm not sure."
"What do you mean 'Not Sure'?"
"I mean, eveything was muddled."
Angel smelt the fear on Doyle. "You're lying to me." Angel stared at Doyle. "Wesley, Cordelia...I need to speak to Doyle... alone." They parted. Angel sat on the couch beside Doyle. His elbows on his knees, one hand on the opposite thigh. With the other he was rubbing the bridge of his nose with his middle finger and thumb. "Why did you lie to me?"
"The vision was a personal promblem. I didn't want to mention it in front of Wes and Cordy."
"Personal problem?"
"Your personal problem... with Buffy..."
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