A/N: I love writing crossovers. My friend Amezri challenged me to an Angel/Twilight crossover. She asked for lots of things which aren't in here. I have no idea how this happened, but it's obvious I can't follow rules very well. Just a one-shot shorty, season one of Angel. I think she forgave me because I gave her Doyle. And who doesn't love Doyle? If you don't, I don't want to hear it. Doyle is love.

Alice leaned back in the chair and threw her legs up on Angel's desk, ignoring his glare.

"Stop that Jasper," Angel looked up from his staring contest with Alice to glare at Jasper, who stood against the door.

Jasper just smiled, and then reached forward and swatted Alice lightly. She let out an exasperated sigh and swung her feet down.

"So. Not that I don't enjoy the visit, but what brings you here? I mean, L.A. really isn't the sort of place I see you two spending a lot of free time."

"I could say the same for you," Jasper smiled. "What with the constant sunshine and all."

Angel couldn't help but smile back – Jasper's relaxing effect was not lost on him. He leaned back in the chair, steepling his fingers. "L.A. has quite the night life."

"And now that you're playing Magnum P.I., you're what? Helping the…" Alice began.

"Helping the hopeless!" A cheery lilting voice from outside the office approached.

A dark-haired man about Alice's size strode through the door, dressed like a racetrack bookie, eyes bright and ready to make a pitch for Angel Investigations, when suddenly the room went crazy.

Alice and Jasper hissed and Alice leapt up from her chair, and Jasper moved to block her, shoulders hunched forward, ready to fall into a crouch. The man at the door cringed, and flushed a sickly blue-green colour before he swallowed forcibly and held up his hands in surrender.

"Hey, hey, hey! What's the story here Angel? Who are these folks?" He still held his hands up and had his back close to the open doorway. "No offense, but you two smell funny," he added, sounding like he was helping them out.

"Alice, Jasper, calm down. It's okay," Angel held out a hand towards, them, palm up, gesturing that they need not be so ready to fight in the haven of his office.

"What is that," Alice asked, her body a little less tense, but her face scrunched in confusion and irritation.

"That?" The man now looked bemusedly offended, and crossed his arms across his chest. "I have a name, thankyouverymuch. And I'm Angel's partner in crime solving! Who are you," he gestured with two fingers, "showing up here smelling like you rolled out of Charlie's Chocolate Factory," he wrinkled his nose, "if Charlie had a few Oompa Loompas processing mule deer, that is."

"Doyle, this is Alice, and Jasper," Angel nodded at each of the two alabaster-skinned forms, Jasper now only slightly lessening the crouch, straightening but still keeping Alice covered.

Doyle gave a two-fingered salute. "Charmed."

"I can't see him, Angel. What is he?"

"He's a demon," Angel said, staring at Alice, even while her eyes were focused on the man named Doyle.

"Half!" Doyle squawked indignantly.

Angel ignored him, and Alice finally came around to stand, more relaxed, at Jasper's side. Jasper grabbed her hand, and she squeezed it.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, and then Doyle rocked back and forth on his heels, and then gave them a two-fingered salute.

"Well, it was a slice, kids. Thanks for…" then he stopped and stared off into space.

Angel swiftly turned his head. "Doyle?"

Doyle shook his head and gave Angel a tight smile. "Nothing, nothing mate. Have a safe trip, Alice, Jasper," he nodded his head at them and left the room.

"This sucks," Alice said suddenly.

Angel and Jasper both looked down at her quizzically.

"First werewolves, now demons."

"Half!" Doyle yelled from the other room. "He's not deaf, you know!" He added.

"First werewolves now half demons what?" Angel emphasized the word 'half' in a louder tone, his head tilted to project it out of his office.

"Thank you!" Doyle yelled back.

"I can't see him. Them. I can't see werewolves, and I apparently can't see demons. Half or otherwise, I would imagine. If half is fuzzy, then full should be just as."

Angel suddenly looked like he'd had an idea. "Is that why you're here? Your, er, visions?"

Doyle poked his head around the office door. "She has visions too?" He beamed at Alice.

"Go away, Doyle."

"Fine, fine," he mumbled and disappeared again.

Alice turned back to Angel, and squeezed Jasper's hand. "Yes. I just…I just wanted to let you know that you have friends, okay? Friends if you need to…talk."

"Alice…" he said slowly, a warning tone in his voice.

"Angel, this one I can't tell you. I don't want it to change your decision if I do. But I was, we were worried." She gave him an apologetic smile. "I know what a big broody goon you are," she said affectionately. "I just…I don't want you to feel like you can't come to us. Or, hell, pick up a phone."

"I'm not much of a chatty Kathy."

"I know. That's why I came. So you had to take me seriously."

She stepped toward his desk, and reached out for his hand.

"It's about her, isn't it?" Angel said quietly, looked down at where Alice gripped his fingers.

She just pressed her lips together and nodded.

"I won't call, you know that."

"I know. But it never hurt anyone for me to tell you that you could."

"Thanks," he said softly.

She nodded decisively, then pulled him to her, and let go of Jasper's hand to be enveloped in the overlarge embrace. It felt like hugging Emmett, except not so firm. He was actually a little warm, and she smiled.

They broke their hug, and Angel held out a hand to Jasper, who shook it once.

"We've got a plane to catch," he said.

"Yeah. Wouldn't want you to miss your plane."

Jasper took Alice's hand back, and they walked out of the office and to the door, opening it into the dim light of the street. Alice suddenly turned back towards Angel.

"I mean it, you know."

"I know," he said, and even gave her a bit of a smile.

They disappeared into the darkness, and Angel stalked back into his office. From a deep drawer, buried beneath anything he could think to put on top of it, he retrieved a photo.

He sat at his desk, his head propped on the palm of his head, and leaned on his elbow. He held the photo between two fingers and his thumb, staring.

A big-eyed blonde stared back, a grin on her face that almost looked pained.