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"Out of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you're the Charlie Browniest."
Cordelia jostles Angel's leather-clad arm in excitement. "Angel, that's you! You're Charlie Brown!"
Angel opens his mouth to retort, but Wesley, who is seated on Cordelia's left side on the tiny couch, beats him to it. "I can see the resemblance," he says, staring thoughtfully at Angel.
"Exactly! He can be so mopey, just like Charlie Brown!"
Wesley smirks. "I suppose that makes you Lucy van Pelt."
Cordelia scowls, clearly assuming that he means it as an insult. Truth be told, Angel is fond of Cordelia's bossy, bold nature. They wouldn't be watching this Christmas special together if it weren't for her.
Before she can start to argue with Wesley, Angel speaks up. "I'm sorry, Cordelia. I don't think I'll be able to give you real estate this year." Angel isn't very hip to the latest trends, but this cartoon is old enough that even he is familiar with all of the lines.
Cordy shrugs with a grin. "As long as you acknowledge that I'm the Christmas Queen."
Angel's lips quirk upwards, amused. "Okay."
The trio watches the rest of the Christmas special in silence. Near the end, Charlie Brown laments that everything he touches gets ruined. Angel thinks of how he had to leave Buffy because he would only make her unhappy and how Doyle sacrificed himself for Angel. Everyone he knows suffers because of him, even when he has a soul.
Once the special ends, the television shows the news. Wesley and Cordelia decide to go home. After Angel says goodbye to them, he trudges over to his desk. He sits down on his chair and stares into the darkness as he contemplates his sins.
After a couple minutes, the lights unexpectedly flood the room and heels clack on the floor as Cordelia enters the office. "I left my jacket, and--" She stops, staring at Angel for a few seconds. "Oh my god, you were brooding! How could that cute little movie make you brood?!"
Angel stares at his hands, unable to respond to her question.
"Is this about Doyle or something?"
Angel looks up and sees that her expression is stern and demanding. "Sort of." He pauses, uncertain how to continue. "You were right. I am Charlie Brown." Her forehead wrinkles in confusion, and Angel gazes at his wooden desk. "Everything I touch gets ruined."
Cordelia sighs. "Angel, that's just not true." She walks behind his desk and stands next to him. "You're not Angelus. I know you did a lot of bad stuff when you didn't have a soul, but you're not that guy anymore."
Angel glances at her stubborn face and shakes his head. "Even when I'm not evil, I just end up hurting everyone."
"No, you don't. Doyle, he..." Her voice breaks, and she briskly wipes away the tears from her eyes. "Doyle made a choice to be all heroic, and that's not your fault. And you saved me. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you."
Angel had saved her from Russell Winters, but he hadn't considered that in his fit of guilt. He hadn't considered that Doyle's death wasn't his fault, either. He's dumbfounded at how Cordelia, with only a few words, managed to lift this burden from his shoulders. "Thanks," he tells her.
She shrugs. "What are friends for?"
Angel smiles slightly. "Apparently, forgetting why you originally came back here."
"Oh right, my jacket!" Cordelia scans the office and rushes towards the missing item. "Thanks, Angel!"
Cordelia's grin is making him feel a little lighter. "Goodnight, Cordelia."
"Night, Angel!" She rushes off to the elevator, and Angel watches her leave, glad that he has her friendship.