A/N: I have the entire story pretty much done so I will try to update periodically to keep interest (if there is any) Please READ and REVIEW and let me know if you would like to see more. I promise this is not some typical mushy love fanfic.

Chapter One: Erin Doyle

The office was chilled and damp on this first day of Spring. Flowers were already slowly beginning to become reborn just outside their doors. Although the air was moist, the sun peered its way through the impending rain clouds. People began moving about outdoors as if recovering from hibernation. Although Los Angelus had retained mostly fair temperatures throughout the winter months as it tended to do, this past February had brought with it a great deal of frosty weather, at least for those who grew up in places such as Sunnydale. The world just outside their doors was beautifully changing. Yet, within the walls of the cramped office building, there was little notice taken to such things. Those of Angel Investigations had more prominent issues on their minds than the weather.

A petite brunette woman remained hunched over a desk piled with miscellaneous and scattered papers and folders. She sifted through them aimlessly as if in a trance. Her fingers gradually found their way up to her thick locks and began twirling the stray ends of her misshapen ponytail. Sleep had obviously escaped her the night before and the drool stain garnishing one of the documents and the empty coffee pot that was now rattling to begin a new batch signified that she had not left that room since the preceding day. As she fought futilely to hold back a yawn, she glanced over at the lumpy figure that began to hoarsely groan on the nearby couch. A gray jacket acted as the man's blanket, his own arm as his pillow. He groggily moaned again and sat up stiffly, his glasses crooked across his face.

"Morning sunshine," the woman spoke with little to no enthusiasm, "how was that 30 minutes of sleep for you?"

"Not as good as the hour you received in the middle of our conversation, atop of the Baker case file."

The woman glanced down sheepishly at the small dried puddle and shrugged innocently as she often did.

"Where is he?' The waking man questioned, straightening his glasses.

"Last I heard, he was in the shower. Probably attempting to get all of that yucky yellow demon blood off of him. I swear, I wanted to take a bath after I just saw him." Sighing, she pulled a small compact mirror from her bag and began examining herself. "So much for beauty sleep. I get to go to my audition looking like a zombie."

"Actually, zombies, or the living dead, don't look deceased at all. They hardly look any different than you or me. In fact –" He stopped short as he suddenly realized he was on the receiving end of one of his colleague's infamous glares.

"Mornin' Am I interrupting something?"

The two looked up as their equally exhausted boss entered the room.

"Morning," The woman nodded, "can I go home now?"

"Did we figure out if this is the last of him?"

"Third time is the charm," the man with glasses declared as he rose and handed his boss an aged and open book. "The description matches that of the creature you fought the last few nights. It says that this particular breed of demon possesses three hearts and therefore must be slain three times."

"Ugh," the woman bemoaned, "what is it with demons? Three hearts now? What next? You'd think that three hearts would make him nicer or something, you know, like the Grinch."

The two stared at her in confusion and a slight grin emerged from their boss' lips.

"Cordelia," the boss began, "a heart doesn't make someone good. Their soul does, or at least in some peoples' cases, it should anyway."

"Well then," Cordelia sighed, "why don't we round up a bunch of gypsies and get them to shove souls in all the demons and baddies of the world like they did with you?"

Her smile faded as her eyes fell upon the front door of the office. The others followed her gaze and also found the young woman who stood hesitantly in the doorway.

"Oh crap" the woman behind the desk mumbled to herself.

"Oh, its okay." The girl spoke softly. "I know about demons and stuff."

"Oh, good" Cordelia breathed.

"Can we help you?" The man who had only moments ago entered asked softly as he could already smell the fear the girl possessed.

"I, uh, I'm sort of looking for someone. This is Angel Investigations, right?"

"Yeah," the boss confirmed, "I'm Angel. This is Wesley and Cordelia."

"Does anybody else work here?"

"No just the three of us." Angel nodded and then paused. "I mean, someone else, well, did –"

"Did? As in the past? He's gone, isn't he? I knew it. I'll never find him. He probably doesn't even want to be found, least of all by me."

"Hold on, slow down. Who are you looking for?"

"His name is Francis, Francis Doyle."

Cordelia staggered at the name of her fallen friend and locked a sorrowful glance with Angel.

"What? What is it? Please tell me. I've been trying to find him for years. I need to see him. It's important. Did he quit? I know he never could stay in one place for long, but–"

"What's your name?" Angel interrupted her frantic ranting.

"Erin, Erin Doyle. I'm his sister."