Disclaimer: Joss and David own them 'cause they be cool like that.
Distribution: Ask first, as for the list archive (I'm assuming there is one), please make sure that all my information says together with the story.  Thanks.
Notes: This is ANGEL fic.  No real spoilers, though.

"What are you doing?"

Doyle turned and quickly blinked back the tears in his eyes.  "Nothin'" he said, his Irish accent even thicker than normal.  He swallowed hard as he watched the vampire raise an eyebrow.  "I was just watchin' her."

"I see that," Angel said in a low voice, trying not to disturb the sleeping girl.  "Why?"

Giving one last glance at Cordelia, Doyle stood up and brushed past Angel.  When the vampire followed him out of the room, Doyle quietly closed the door.  Clearing his throat, Doyle said, "Let's get me a pint."

Angel shook his head.  "Why don't you tell me what you were doing first."

"I told ya.  I was watchin' her sleep."

"Now tell me why."

Looking down, the half demon shrugged his shoulders.  "She reminds me of my wife."

Keeping his expression neutral, Angel responded, "I didn't know you were married."

"I'm not now.  Long time ago.  'Bout a hundred and fifteen years, I guess."

"I didn't know you were that old."

"Aye, I am.  Older than you, actually, I was just a jolly bachelor for a long time before I met her."  Rolling his neck, working out the tension, Doyle looked up at the vampire.  "I'm going to the pub, get me pint and a tall one."

Before Doyle could even turn to walk away, Angel asked, "What happened to your wife?"

"Died.  She was having my baby.  I was in the other room and the mid wife came in without a babe in her arms and told me that I'd lost them both."

"I'm sorry."

"Why, man?  You didn't kill her."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

The half demon just shrugged.  "'Tis okay.  It led to things, which led to me having to atone for things, which led here.  It all works out, I guess."

"And Cordelia reminds you of her?"  Doyle nodded.  "How?"

"Looks like her," he said with a smile.  "Acts like her, talks like her, except for the accent and the slang, of course.  Has the same glow to her.  Same spark and fire for life."  Sniffing loudly and squaring his shoulders, Doyle turned.  "Well, there's a bar stool around the corner with my name on it."

"Be careful."

"Aye," Doyle said absently as he headed down the hall.  Turning back for a moment, he said, "And if Cordelia should happen to say that she's in the market for a half demon boyfriend, put a good word in for me, all right?"