"Angel Investigations - we give hope to the hopeless," Cordelia said as fake-perkily as she could manage. "What mystical, metaphysical or just plain weird problem can we help you with today?" She jotted down the details on her notepad. "Mmmm-hmmmm... floating furniture... dismembered limbs... a pair of different hands... oh, they're thumb wrestling? That's interesting... Okay, just give me the address and I'll pass this along to our crack staff... Excellent. Thank you."
Cordelia ripped the paper with the necessary details and took them back to the main office where Angel was going through a few bills.
"Got another one for you," she announced. "82nd Street."
"How serious?"
"Could very well be a war."
"Uh-huh... Okay, I'll give Wes a ring, and we'll go check it out." He got up from his desk, grabbed the paper from her and headed out the door. "You'll hold down the fort while I'm gone, right?"
"Yeah, sure," she said casually. "No problemo, boss."
He regarded her briefly. "You sure?"
"Yeah! Totally sure! Absolutely!"
Angel's eyes could see right through her - she really was a crummy actress.
"Cordelia, it's okay to admit you're still sad. I miss him, too."
Cordelia could already feel her lower lip tremble at the mention of 'him'.
It had been over a month since Doyle's death. He'd sacrificed himself to save them and a bunch of Lister demons from a deadly beacon. The poor half-demon had been vaporized right in front of them, reduced to nothing, and all they had left of him were the visions from the Powers That Be that he'd passed on to Cordy before his death. It had taken her weeks to get to a point where she wasn't constantly sobbing. She tried to take comfort in the fact that he'd given her the visions - a testament to the love he felt for her - but it just made her want to have him back so she could have dated him and fallen in love with him properly.
Not long afterwards, ex-Watcher and uptight British guy Wesley Wyndem-Price had shown up and joined the team, essentially filling the void with his seemingly-endless knowledge of demons. It had been weird at first, given how useless he'd been in Sunnydale and the problems he'd caused, but she could tell he and Angel were learning to work together, and it was a nice distraction.
That didn't mean the grief wasn't still there. It would catch her unawares sometimes. She couldn't help but let a few tears fall on the job occasionally. Angel did his usual tough-guy brooding exercises to cope with his own grief. Wesley was remarkably gentle on the subject. He had never met Doyle, but he was always willing to listen when one of them needed to talk about him for a while. A pity they would never meet - she hoped maybe they would have been friends.
"I'm fine, Angel," she said gently. "Just... go fight those wrestling thumbs for me, okay?"
Angel nodded in understanding. "If I'm not back before closing, just lock up and head home. And if you have a vision --- "
"I have your pager number," she smiled.
He gave a small smile back and headed down into the sewers, already dialing Wesley's number.
Cordelia sighed heavily. All alone. Nothing more to do except finish filing and sit on her gorgeous butt until another client called. They were still a relatively new business. They'd had some decent success lately, which meant a few extra groceries in addition to paying rent, but it wasn't quite the "rolling in dough" situation she'd been hoping for. She had to buy the cheapest groceries she could get. She'd had a couple of paying commercial gigs here and there, but nothing permanent.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten in a while. She grabbed a banana off the break room counter and munched on it. Stupid emotions. They were really throwing her off. She hadn't bothered with going to the gym the entire month. She got plenty of exercise helping fight demons, but that hardly ever happened. Angel was being too nice about her grieving and going either solo or with Wesley - which was just as well as going solo. She really ought to renew her gym membership - she had to look good for her imminent stardom.
She finished off the banana and tossed it in the trash can. There. She'd eaten something healthy.
Her eyes fell on the phone, and she immediately started daydreaming about getting a large pepperoni pizza. She didn't get to do that so often anymore. Hardly any friends out here. Angel didn't eat. Wes was a slightly picky eater. There was hardly any point in ordering a giant pizza for herself. But she'd been in such a funk for the past month, and it wasn't like her acting career was going anywhere.
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