Angel

New Apartment

Summary: Set in S1. Cordy gets a new apartment, but she's not alone. There's a ghost. Will they be able to put the ghost to rest? Will the ghost win? Read to find out.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to the creators of Angel.

It was a beautiful day. Doyle was listening to Cordelia, as she ranted on him about a commercial she tried out for.

"I hate trash bags. They rip and tear. And end up costing us more. I'm trash bag material."

"Yeah. They don't know what they're missing," he said, not knowing what to say.

"Some lady showed up in a cat costume. She looked like cat lady taking out the trash. She got the job. I should've gotten it."

"Yeah. They don't know what they're missing," he said, not knowing what to say.

Just then, the phone rang and Angel showed up, standing in the doorway, arms crossed. Cordelia looked at the phone.

"You going to get that?" Doyle asked.

"Yeah. She is," Angel said.

"No. It's just Delia asking how things are going. How my apartment is and stuff. I'm not ready for that just yet."

The phone went to voicemail and Delia left a message.

"Hi, Cordelia. It's Delia I was just calling to see how things were going."

It was a beautiful night, as Cordy made her way to her apartment. It was a real crappy one. At that same time, Doyle was asking how she was.

"Her life all went down the drain but she's doing alright."

Cordy opened the door after unlocking it. In the process of getting the key out, she broke a nail. She shook her hand, as it hurt.

"Ow! Damn it!" she cursed.

She entered the apartment and shut the door. She went to the kitchen and turned the faucet on, ready to get a glass of water. It spilled on her shirt, so she turned it off.

She sat on the couch and turned the tv on. There were roaches all over it.

She turned it off.

"Ew! Gross! Roaches!" She grabbed the phone and called someone.

"Yes. This is Cordelia Chase from apartment 4B. I thought you were going to get a exterminator in here, today. Yes, well if you had, do you think there'd be-," she said.

She broke off, hanging up the phone, as she stood up and stepped on a roach. She grabbed her address book, now sitting on the couch, and called up Doyle.

Doyle walked into his apartment with a box.

He put it down.

The phone rang.

"Hello, Doyle," a Demon of Focus greeted, coming in.

Doyle turned to see him.

"You owe me money," the demon said.

"What happened to all the small things in life that are priceless. Right. You're a, a Demon of Focus. I have your money over here," he said.