Edmund Blackadder
Scooby
OK, this is the first time i've tried to mix two shows, so if it goes 'tits up' don't worry, i'll just delete.🙂
I know i have other fics on the go, and I'll be working on them now too, but i just got an urge to do this one...hope you like.....
Part One
Francis Doyle loved walking down this neighbourhood of LA at this time of day.
All the "˜people' he owed money, or who owed him a "˜visit' generally worked the night shift, so he was free to bask in the glorious midday sun on his way to Angels Office.
The Bakers close by to Angels had surely been open now for most of the morning, so the fact his nostrils were filled with the delicious scent of freshly baked bread and pastries came as a pleasant reminder that he was in need of something tasty to eat.
As he reached the front door, Doyle sensed a sneeze was about to "˜erupt' forth.
Quickly looking around him, he saw he was alone, so didn't fight the urge.
As he sneezed, his whole body jerked. When he opened his eyes, he looked in the glass of the door and saw the reflection. His human face had transformed from the regular, weary looking visage to a green face with numerous spikes of blue. To anyone else, this might have been a worry, but not Doyle, for he was Half Demon.
A quick jerk from the man again caused the Demon to go back into hiding, allowing his human form to take place.
Not many people knew Doyle's true identity, in fact at his place of work, only Angel was privy to this. He had kept it a secret from Angel's assistant, Cordelia Chase, though that was for more personal reasons.
He pushed open the door to the front of the building and walked directly to the staircase.
As he walked, two steps at a time, he started to feel a familiar tug inside his head.
This tugging sensation generally happened just before Doyle received a "˜Vision' from the "˜Powers that Be'.
The Powers or PTB's as Cordelia had re-christened them, were demons on a higher plane of existence that used Doyle as a sort of conduit of which to send messages through to Angel, their Champion.
The tug became intense, followed immediately by a searing pain, not unlike red hot pokers piercing Skin "“ a sensation Doyle, luckily, had yet to experience -, and a total loss of balance.
This "˜Vision' was no different.
Something in his mind began to show pictures, as if they had been downloaded to him, of a young woman. She was sitting in a park, reading something from a book. The book had a name written on the top, reading Tanya, A strange feeling also came from the "˜Vision', one suggesting no urgency. The "˜Vision' also showed a newspaper, one depicting the date of "˜November 17th 1999'. This date was odd however as it was a week old. Doyle got the feeling this message was less about stopping whatever was going to happen then looking into the cause.
As abruptly as the "˜Vision' descended upon the man, it stopped. The only evidence of it occurring was the residual searing pain, the memory of the woman and the fact Doyle was now laid, face down, on the landing of the stairs.
"I thought we agreed no drinking before your morning coffee" came the familiar voice of Cordelia.
Doyle looked up to see the beautiful young woman standing over him. Doyle gave a quick gaze at her, noticed that she'd had her hair down, allowing the soft dark curls to gently cascade to just below her shoulders. He also noticed the new light blue dress she was wearing with the slightly darker blue belt gently resting on her hips.
Somehow, gazing up at her eased the pain of the vision.
"Well, if I stuck to all my "˜agreements' I'd not be the rogue you know and love" the man said in his deep Irish Brogue as he smiled back.
As he stood himself up and brushed down, he looked over his shoulder to see if he'd dropped anything.
"Vision?" Cordelia asked with a certain knowing in her voice.
"Yeah, seems like the big guys needed."
Doyle began to walk to the office when he noticed Angel had company in.
"Yes, he's needed by a few people today" Cordelia noted.
Doyle walked in closer to the window and saw two people sat opposite Angel.
One was a tall dark haired man, wearing a rather pristine suit, the other, a red haired woman with another pristine suit on.
"Cops?" Doyle asked out loud, knowing that Cordelia was right behind him.
"FBI, but Yeah, they turned up about an hour ago, asking for "˜Mr Angel'." The woman continued, "They've been in there all this time. Not once has Angel let me in to know what's going on."
Doyle noticed that Cordelia seemed frustrated by this. He knew she loved to know what was going on and when.
"Well, he'd better be careful. Once you start working for the cops, you're in their pockets for life."
Cordelia just looked at the man.
"That's just stupid, Angel would never work for the FBI." She said.
Doyle gave a small laugh then said, "This is how it starts. They pump you once for some information. Then they come again and again, and before you know it, Jimmy the Fixer is looking for you "˜cause you just tipped the cops off about a stash he has hiding in his grandmothers apartment cause you can't afford to pay him this months "˜betting' losses so you figure him in "˜jail' is better "˜en your legs broken."
Doyle saw Cordelia furrow her brow, he thought it made her look particularly sexy.
"When would Angel ever be"¦..ohhhh" came the realization "Well I doubt that Angel has anything they could use. Remember our world and theirs stay separate."
The door to Angel's interior office squeaked open.
"Not this time, Cordelia." Angel said. "Doyle, glad you're here, come in."
Doyle looked at Angel, the guy looked rather imposing wearing nothing but black. Even his perfect hair was black, along with his eyes. It was a perfect counterbalance against his sun deprived skin.
"Jeez man, I'm kinda running late, how about you fill me in on the craic later?"
Angel just held the door open giving Doyle the obvious impression that he should go in.
Doyle looked back at Cordelia.
"Oh, that's alright, don't invite the one who has been here since 9am answering phones, but the drunk Irish guy, who incidently isn't even paid staff, can waltz right in."
"Cordelia, you too" Angel said.
With a squeak behind him, Doyle knew Cordelia had come up fast to enter the room.
Before inoductions, the male Agent stood and walked towards Doyle.
"Francis Doyle?" he said.
Doyle stared at the man.
"˜I'm always nervous when a Cop knows my name before I've met them."
Angel closed the door and walked to the group.
"Doyle, Cordelia. This is Agent "˜Fox' Mulder, and this is Agent Dana Scully.
I know i have other fics on the go, and I'll be working on them now too, but i just got an urge to do this one...hope you like.....
A Case of the "X"
Part One
Francis Doyle loved walking down this neighbourhood of LA at this time of day.
All the "˜people' he owed money, or who owed him a "˜visit' generally worked the night shift, so he was free to bask in the glorious midday sun on his way to Angels Office.
The Bakers close by to Angels had surely been open now for most of the morning, so the fact his nostrils were filled with the delicious scent of freshly baked bread and pastries came as a pleasant reminder that he was in need of something tasty to eat.
As he reached the front door, Doyle sensed a sneeze was about to "˜erupt' forth.
Quickly looking around him, he saw he was alone, so didn't fight the urge.
As he sneezed, his whole body jerked. When he opened his eyes, he looked in the glass of the door and saw the reflection. His human face had transformed from the regular, weary looking visage to a green face with numerous spikes of blue. To anyone else, this might have been a worry, but not Doyle, for he was Half Demon.
A quick jerk from the man again caused the Demon to go back into hiding, allowing his human form to take place.
Not many people knew Doyle's true identity, in fact at his place of work, only Angel was privy to this. He had kept it a secret from Angel's assistant, Cordelia Chase, though that was for more personal reasons.
He pushed open the door to the front of the building and walked directly to the staircase.
As he walked, two steps at a time, he started to feel a familiar tug inside his head.
This tugging sensation generally happened just before Doyle received a "˜Vision' from the "˜Powers that Be'.
The Powers or PTB's as Cordelia had re-christened them, were demons on a higher plane of existence that used Doyle as a sort of conduit of which to send messages through to Angel, their Champion.
The tug became intense, followed immediately by a searing pain, not unlike red hot pokers piercing Skin "“ a sensation Doyle, luckily, had yet to experience -, and a total loss of balance.
This "˜Vision' was no different.
Something in his mind began to show pictures, as if they had been downloaded to him, of a young woman. She was sitting in a park, reading something from a book. The book had a name written on the top, reading Tanya, A strange feeling also came from the "˜Vision', one suggesting no urgency. The "˜Vision' also showed a newspaper, one depicting the date of "˜November 17th 1999'. This date was odd however as it was a week old. Doyle got the feeling this message was less about stopping whatever was going to happen then looking into the cause.
As abruptly as the "˜Vision' descended upon the man, it stopped. The only evidence of it occurring was the residual searing pain, the memory of the woman and the fact Doyle was now laid, face down, on the landing of the stairs.
"I thought we agreed no drinking before your morning coffee" came the familiar voice of Cordelia.
Doyle looked up to see the beautiful young woman standing over him. Doyle gave a quick gaze at her, noticed that she'd had her hair down, allowing the soft dark curls to gently cascade to just below her shoulders. He also noticed the new light blue dress she was wearing with the slightly darker blue belt gently resting on her hips.
Somehow, gazing up at her eased the pain of the vision.
"Well, if I stuck to all my "˜agreements' I'd not be the rogue you know and love" the man said in his deep Irish Brogue as he smiled back.
As he stood himself up and brushed down, he looked over his shoulder to see if he'd dropped anything.
"Vision?" Cordelia asked with a certain knowing in her voice.
"Yeah, seems like the big guys needed."
Doyle began to walk to the office when he noticed Angel had company in.
"Yes, he's needed by a few people today" Cordelia noted.
Doyle walked in closer to the window and saw two people sat opposite Angel.
One was a tall dark haired man, wearing a rather pristine suit, the other, a red haired woman with another pristine suit on.
"Cops?" Doyle asked out loud, knowing that Cordelia was right behind him.
"FBI, but Yeah, they turned up about an hour ago, asking for "˜Mr Angel'." The woman continued, "They've been in there all this time. Not once has Angel let me in to know what's going on."
Doyle noticed that Cordelia seemed frustrated by this. He knew she loved to know what was going on and when.
"Well, he'd better be careful. Once you start working for the cops, you're in their pockets for life."
Cordelia just looked at the man.
"That's just stupid, Angel would never work for the FBI." She said.
Doyle gave a small laugh then said, "This is how it starts. They pump you once for some information. Then they come again and again, and before you know it, Jimmy the Fixer is looking for you "˜cause you just tipped the cops off about a stash he has hiding in his grandmothers apartment cause you can't afford to pay him this months "˜betting' losses so you figure him in "˜jail' is better "˜en your legs broken."
Doyle saw Cordelia furrow her brow, he thought it made her look particularly sexy.
"When would Angel ever be"¦..ohhhh" came the realization "Well I doubt that Angel has anything they could use. Remember our world and theirs stay separate."
The door to Angel's interior office squeaked open.
"Not this time, Cordelia." Angel said. "Doyle, glad you're here, come in."
Doyle looked at Angel, the guy looked rather imposing wearing nothing but black. Even his perfect hair was black, along with his eyes. It was a perfect counterbalance against his sun deprived skin.
"Jeez man, I'm kinda running late, how about you fill me in on the craic later?"
Angel just held the door open giving Doyle the obvious impression that he should go in.
Doyle looked back at Cordelia.
"Oh, that's alright, don't invite the one who has been here since 9am answering phones, but the drunk Irish guy, who incidently isn't even paid staff, can waltz right in."
"Cordelia, you too" Angel said.
With a squeak behind him, Doyle knew Cordelia had come up fast to enter the room.
Before inoductions, the male Agent stood and walked towards Doyle.
"Francis Doyle?" he said.
Doyle stared at the man.
"˜I'm always nervous when a Cop knows my name before I've met them."
Angel closed the door and walked to the group.
"Doyle, Cordelia. This is Agent "˜Fox' Mulder, and this is Agent Dana Scully.
