Cordelia's hiding something. She's choosing her words with a deliberate kind of precision, her body language carefully sculpted to keep Wes at ease, and it gives her away. To a trained eye, anyway. Well, we'll worry about that later. If it was important, she'd have let him in on it already. Us, I remind myself firmly, refusing to let my gaze flick down to their joined hands. She'd have let us in on it.
"We could get him to read Angel."
"You could get him to agree to that?" I ask doubtfully. "It's going to have to come from you. Angel hasn't exactly been professing his undying love for this part of town these days." A fact that I'm not entirely glib and guilt-free about, especially not when the familiar shadow creeps into Wesley's expression.
"Or Lorne could catch him singing in the shower," I muse idly, raising an eyebrow at Alicia who's pointedly not-eavesdropping from the door and waiting impatiently for the chocolate cheesecake portion of the evening. Can't say I blame her. I'll take a sugary dessert over hopeless battle plans any day of the week.
"But unless we're planning on getting our righteous wrath on tonight, I'm going to go order some dinner." I look askance at Wes, immediately kick myself for falling into that habit in front of Cordelia, and get to my feet.
"And you wanted the deep-fried broccoli for dessert, right?" I tease Alicia, getting a scandalized look in response.
Lindsey is right. Unless Lorne can catch him singing, or come up with some nifty excuse by himself - which I can see him doing - it’ll have to be Cordy who’ll have to ask him to sing. And how silly would that sound. That’s not going to work. Nor is my stomping into Angel’s office and demanding some answer. No matter how much I’d want to, he’s not very fond of me these days. Far from it, as Lindsey pointed out.
Whatever smile was on my face dies down completely at that thought. I miss my best friend sometimes. Sometimes, I wish things could be like they used to be. Just him, Cordy and I working from our old office. But things can never be the same. I’m happy now as well with Lindsey and my girls. But there are times I miss my friends. I don’t have any friends left, aside from Lorne, and the occasional phone call from Fred. If she remembers.
“Like, oh my gosh,” Alicia’s voice comes as she rolls her eyes in a theatrical way at Lindsey. “You’re *so* funny. Ha, ha, ha. Don’t give up your day job just yet.” Someone has been watching to much telly. She waves the menu’s in his face with a scowl before telling him exactly what she wanted.
Marilee has taken the momentary distraction to climb back into my lap and I automatically help her. Getting our righteous wrath, I’m not even sure we can. Or want to. I just want to grab Lindsey, the girls and Cordy. Make a run for it, far, far away from here. And then feel guilty for the rest of my life for leaving them behind. But I’d already tried and came up empty handed and mostly bruised and battered as a things for my effort.
“Let’s just…get some dinner and things-things will look so much better in the…in the morning,” I mumble, trying to sound more cheerful then I feel. After that revelation, who would feel cheerful? Mustering up a smile for Cordelia’s benefit, I shift Marilee in a more comfortable position.
Me get Angel to sing? I blink at that because Angel and I are barely on speaking terms right now, me walking in there and demanding his best impression of Manilow would be pretty out there. Not as far out there as him being Evil's Flunky these days, but that's different.
"Somehow I doubt it," I say softly and if ever I've understood the term 'rueful', I understand it right now. Again, me get Angel to sing? Doubtful.
I'm almost grateful when Lindsey suggests forgetting our whole righteous wrath thing for tonight. Dinner sounds good - I'm actually pretty hungry - and I want to spend more time with them all without this hanging over our heads, thank you very much.
I laugh as Alicia waves a couple of menu's at Lindsey, telling him that she so did NOT want deep-fried brocoli for desert, and glance over at Wes as he shuffles Marilee onto his laugh and tells us that things will look better tomorrow.
The sad thing about that is that after months, hell years of fighting the good fight? I know that's what we tell ourselves. That things'll be okay, that it'll all look better in the morning, that yes, we're fine and not being killed by visions or being driven half mad by prophecies that were never gonna come true anyway. That's what we tell ourselves because admitting anything else means admitting defeat. It means laying down and letting the evil law firm win and it's not like we can do that, however much we want to.
"You're right. We'll be okay." I nod. I'm lying, but it's okay 'cause if he can do it? I can to.
Alicia trots after me as I head into the kitchen, obviously to ensure that I don't get strange notions about dessert when she's not there to correct me. Can't say that I mind the company at the moment. I mean, I'm certainly not going to complain about the very welcome addition of another player to 'our team' these days, but it's still got me more than a little shaken just the same.
Despite a completely disarming smile and a good sense of humor, Cordelia's a keystone of the most powerful kind. The Powers wanted her up and at 'em, the Partners wanted her out of the picture, nobody seems to know what was going on in Angel's head... and here she is, in our home. I'm sure as hell not going to say it in front of Wes, but I'm still trying to figure out if we've got a weapon or a time bomb on our hands.
"Lind-sey!" Alicia pouts, and I realize that I've been hovering near the doorway just a little bit too long, leaning back and trying to see if they're still holding hands. "What are you doing?"
"Ordering dinner," I shoot back, finally tearing myself away from the doorway and heading for the phone. 'Spying on your dad and his old friend' would be a slightly more honest answer, but I've noticed how things like that have a way of mysteriously getting back to Wesley's ears before long.
"Sometime before Christmas?" Alicia prompts, so I make a face at her and start to dial. It'll be good for those two to get a minute alone. I trust Wes enough to give them that much.
Everything will be okay. We’re both lying and we know it. But just like the so called good days of the past, we’re both pretending not to realize that. And my dear Lindsey seem to be a natural when it comes to that as well when he moves Alicia out of the living room and into the kitchen. Ordering dinner and pretending everything is just fine. I can hear them arguing there and the normalcy of that makes me smile a little as Marilee leans against me, sticking her thumb in her mouth while gazing at Cordelia.
Cordelia, who woke up after more then a year in that coma. A coma we’ve now learned she has been kept in, with Angel’s knowledge. He signed the papers. I know he can be terribly dense, but he’s not as dense as most people would believe. Or he would like most people to think. He must’ve read them, he must’ve know. What I don’t understand is why. Why did he do it? Just as I don’t understand why he treats me as though I were the enemy, as though I’d done something terrible to him.
Reaching out, I take hold of Cordelia’s hand again, squeezing it a little. I can practically feel Lindsey hovering nearby, trying *not* to hover from the kitchen. He knows what this woman, this best friend means to me and I do hope he’s not feeling threatened in any way. Shouldn’t he? Still lying to yourself and the world around you?
“I’ve missed you,” I tell Cordelia quietly, pushing the voices in my head away for now. “There have been several times I wished you were here. Help out with my girls,” I smile at Marilee who’s nearly asleep by now and listen to Lindsey argue with Alicia. They’re girls, I’m a guy, nothing more awkward then that. I mean, how soon will Alicia need her first…bra? “And I sure could’ve used you to knock some sense into Lindsey from time to time,” I say a little louder, eyes fondly shooting to the kitchen and back to Cordelia again.
There's something tugs at me when I see Lindsey walking away from us. I know that it's as much about giving us a little time alone together as it is ordering the food. I know that it's something I wasn't expecting. And I also know that he feels uncomfortable and part of me is sad at that. Sad because I'm invading Wes' home, Wes' family... Sad because I used to be part of that.
My gaze flickers back when finally he turns into Wes' kitchen and I glance down at our hands when he covers it again. “I’ve missed you,” he tells me quietly, and I guess I'm surprised. Wes isn't Angel when it comes to hiding his feelings but he's never been this direct before. Never been this honest. “There have been several times I wished you were here. Help out with my girls. And I sure could’ve used you to knock some sense into Lindsey from time to time.”
We both look at Marilee. She's almost asleep now, clutching her Boo like some tiny lifeline, like if she lets it go something awful's gonna happen. My gaze softens and not for the first moment since I walked in his apartment I remember that Wes is a father. He has new responsibilities now, new things to take care of and suddenly my decision on coming here doesn't seem all that great. "I dunno," I smile, letting my gaze flicker to where I know Lindsey's trying not to eavesdrop, "I think you knock sense into him well enough yourself."
Because that's what they do... For each other. That's what we did, once upon a time. Before vampires and babies and demons that lied and-- Things that I'm not gonna think about right now. "I missed you too," I say after a few seconds, when the silence gets too much. Does that sound silly? I heard Wes there, felt the weight of his hand over mine, and yet I missed him. Not just in the coma but before that. "I guess things changed a lot, huh?"
I look at Marilee again and then back at Wesley. Kind of an understatement, that - about things changing. It wasn't like I expected things to stay the same or anything, but for it to have changed this much and in such a short space of time... It's just kinda hard to wrap my head around.
"I'm glad that you found someone," I tell him, smiling. I guess that's sort of my apology. My 'sorry I abandoned you and kinda forced you to do it'. "Lindsey, the kids... They're good for you, Wes." And yeah, they are. Better than that law firm for Angel. Better than any choice I've ever made, that's for damn sure.
I just want him to know that I get the whole priority shift. If this is the end? If Angel really is dark and, like, the apocalypse is nigher than nigh? I don't expect him to fight. He shouldn't. I just needed to see a friendly face, that was all. One that didn't work for evil.
Old habits of paranoia die hard. We’re talking harder to kill than a vampire wearing full body armor and hopped up on Slayer blood.
"I'm glad that you found someone," she said to him, and isn’t that the sort of thing that you say when it was supposed to be each other that you found? The conversation swings one way and my nervous thoughts go charging in the exact opposite direction, and aren’t I supposed to be worrying about the end of the world?
The thing is, for me at least, losing them would be the end of the world. Would feel like the end of the world, anyway. I guess I didn’t think my wish through all that carefully when I’d sat beside Cordelia’s bed and begged her to wake up. So that I could see Wes smile like he’s doing right now; so that maybe some of those deep wounds left by the wringer he’d been drug through over the last couple years could finally start to heal in earnest.
Trick of perspective. I’d forgotten to consider how I would fit into that revised picture. Two Sunnydale survivors, dyed-in-the-wool heroes, champions in their own right. And then the guy with old bloodstains on his best suits. One of these things is not like the other…
And here I am, stuck. Because I love Wes. Big scary four-letter word that keeps a guy from thinking rationally. A concept that makes me wonder if I’m supposed to fight to keep him for myself, if it ever came down to that, or do what would make him happiest.
I mutter another useful four-letter word under my breath, before quickly apologizing to Alicia. If I can get through this evening without having a complete nervous breakdown, I’m sure everything will start to fall into place tomorrow. Insecurity is, in most cases, something that I can out wait.
“So I was thinking,” I announce, heading back into the dining room and cutting off the inevitable smart rejoinder from Alicia, “Hotels around here are pretty much criminally expensive, and we’ve got that spare bedroom…” I wander over to lean against the back of Wesley’s chair, watching Marilee fall asleep in his arms, evidently tuckered out from all the excitement. “It's probably not my place to invite you to stick around, but I’m sure Wes will catch on any minute now,” I tell Cordelia with a smile.
My gaze follows hers as they flicker toward the kitchen Lindsey has disappeared into and I can’t help the stupid smile that slides on my face. It’s an odd reflex I seemed to have acquired over the past when Lindsey and I grew closer. “It seemed to have worked both ways,” I admit, because heaven knows there have been times he had to stop me from storming out here. Usually it had to do with Angel, after he pulled one of his stunts. But my storming out of here without a plan rarely happened. So I’m anal that way, sue me.
Preparation, preparation, preparation. And keeping your boyfriend happy, is also important. It’s right up there with keeping the girls happy and safe. And wanting Cordelia back in my life. I seem to have all those things now, a dream come true, and yet there’s danger lurking around the corner. Typical.
But not for tonight. For tonight we can pretend, and act at though there’s nothing wrong.
Shifting Marilee in my arms, I look back at her, smile still in place when she tells me she missed me as well. At least someone did. Aside from Lorne, none of the others seem to. Fred at first, but she seems to be…less and less like Fred. “I’ve been very fortunate,” I tell her, smile widening when I hear Alicia scold Lindsey for…something. With those two, it could be just about anything. “They have been good for me, made me whole. Even though there was something missing until now.” Patting her hand, I have to pull it away to keep Marilee from sliding from my lap.
It’s that moment Lindsey comes back into the room. My eyebrow raised, because I think I’ve just been insulted. Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him and then at Cordelia when she giggles. “I am really not as dense as certain people, two here currently present the most, seem to think. *Of course* she’s going to be staying in the guestroom.” As if I was going to let her out of my sight right at this very moment. Just so she can vanish or some such? I don’t think so. And yes, maybe there’s a big part of me that’s afraid this is all a dream and I’m going to wake up soon.
“Like what spare bedroom?” Alicia wants to know, raising a very familiar eyebrow and obviously not well pleased about the fact that desert is still not here. Or the food. “The one Marilee and me are like totally sleeping in?”
“That would be the one,” I tell her calmly. “Which would also be the one where we put the foldable bed. You get to share with Aunt Cordy.”
She has to think about that for all of two seconds before her face lights up. “Okay! Cool. Now get with the food ordering thing, or tell them to hurry up or whatever.”
“Alicia,” I scold her, getting up with Marilee in my arms. “Language, if you please. I’m going to put the little one to bed, I’ll be right back.” Without thinking about it, I lean in to kiss Lindsey before moving over to the girls room. Might as well get the bed ready while I’m there anyway. Marilee has this habit of sleeping through a lot if she wants to.
He's been fortunate, he tells me, smiling as he hears Alicia ticking Lindsey off for ordering deep fried brocoli or something. He tells me they've been good for him, made him whole-- Because something has been missing.
I blink at that. I remember everything Wes said while I was in that coma - the days he'd tell me about Alicia and some new, outrageous thing she'd said. The days he told me about how much he missed me, about how much he wished I was awake. I've always been good at reading between the lines, though. I know Wes. I know when he's hiding something, most of the time, and more often not the things he didn't say? Were the ones that spoke the loudest.
"I wasn't missing," I tell him gently, "I was just..." Absent. Being controlled by something else. In a coma. How I don't have issues a thousand miles long is beyond me.
“So I was thinking, hotels around here are pretty much criminally expensive, and we’ve got that spare bedroom… It's probably not my place to invite you to stick around, but I’m sure Wes will catch on any minute now.”
I glance up at Lindsey as he places his arms on the back of Wesley's seat and--Okay, you're kind of doomed when you realise the gay-couple-that-you-never-thought-would-be-gay are actually kind of sweet to each other. Geez.
"He always was a little slow on the uptake," I supply helpfully, giggling when Wes glares at me.
“I am really not as dense as certain people, two here currently present the most, seem to think. *Of course* she’s going to be staying in the guestroom.”
What else had I thought Wes would do; toss me out on the street? Well, no, not really. But since I can't even afford a hostel right now, I'll have to take what I can get. I'm quick to say that I don't want to intrude on Marilee and Alicia but she decides that's okay as long as we hurry up and order the food. "Don't worry," I tell her, mock-straight-face, "If I snore? I give you permission to kick me." I so do NOT snore, though. Well there was that one time at the ballet but that was Snooze Central.
Wesley kisses Lindsey and excuses himself to put Marilee down while Alicia takes a look at the menus again, torturing herself with the want of food. I look back at Lindsey. "I heard, y'know..." I tell him. He looks puzzled and for a moment I've flapped Unflappable Lawyer Boy. Score one for Cordy. "In the coma, I mean," I smile, "Your little pep talk?"
I shoot a look at Alicia who is either not listening or trying really hard to pretend to not listen so I lower my voice. "I'm no bigger advocate for the I've done things in my past that I'm not proud of'..." I guess Lindsey knows about that, well, as much as Wes does anyway. "But... I know you're good for him. I know he's happy with you. And whatever happens these next few days? I just want you to know I'm glad about that. And no hard feelings over the once trying to kill me thing." I finish, grinning.
There was a time when I could control my expressions; when I could manipulate the perfect look of wounded innocence for a stubborn judge and hide the deepest hurt when the situation called for silence. But I’ve come a long way since then and when Wes leans in to kiss me, automatic and intimate even with his arms full of Marilee, there’s no hiding my smile.
I’ve probably got ‘love-struck fool’ written all over my face, and there doesn’t seem to be much I can do about that fact besides hope that I’m not making Cordelia nervous. She doesn’t seem to be have been put off by the whole… ‘us’ thing so far, and that in itself is surprising. Not really the ‘us’ thing so much as the ‘Lindsey McDonald’ thing. But if she’s willing to give me a chance, I’m sure as hell going to take it, for Wesley’s sake.
"I heard, y'know..."
Aw, crap. What kind of super-ears does this girl have? I didn’t curse that loudly in front of Alicia…
"In the coma, I mean. Your little pep talk?"
“You heard that?” I echo in surprise, not sure whether to be embarrassing or a little bit thrilled that we’d been getting through after all. But damn, wasn’t that something to think about. Being stuck like that, with nothing to do but listen to the world moving on around you, no way to communicate. My respect for what she’s been through kicks up another couple notches.
From the sounds of it, I’ve got the tentative Chase stamp of approval, and hey look, there’s that uncontrollable smile again. “Thank you,” I say quietly, even as she adds on the trying-to-kill-her bit. “Never happen again,” I swear earnestly with a sheepish grin, making a cross-my-heart gesture. And not just because I’d get my ass kicked six ways from Sunday if I ever tried anything like that again. I like her.
“It really is good to have you back. A guy could run himself into the ground getting a smile like that from Wes,” I tell her, leaning against the table and managing to let go of all the things that I’m supposed to be worrying about. Well. For the most part.
"Hey listen," I murmur, lowering my voice and cutting my eyes towards the door, "We're doing okay here. Keeping the girls safe, keeping food on the table, but... L.A.'s a nightmare these days, and I don't know how long we can keep this up. Wesley's too proud to ask you for help." I shake my head with a wry smile. "I'm not."
Confused, I blink down at a pair of big blue bleary eyes blinking back at me. “Booh? Are you trying to scare me, precious? I thought you were asleep?”
She rolls her eyes at me which makes it evident that Alicia will get heavy competition when it comes to facial expressions in the future. “I was,” she yawns, snuggling closer to me and wrapping her arms around my neck. “Boo,” she says again, putting an emphasis on the word.
Ah, it dawns on me now that she’s wrapped her arms around my neck. “And where did Boo wander off to?” Raising my eyebrow, I glance down at her questionably before glancing around.
“I droppered him,” Marilee nods sagely at that, small head glancing around as well. “Oh by the door, daddy Wesley.”
Giving her a mock frown, I turn around and look at the door. “So he is. Poor Boo. “You better go get him quickly then hmm?” Putting her down on the floor, little legs run toward Boo and scoop up the little…whatever the hell that thing is. Wombat or some such.
“You gonna wead us a stowy?” she asked, peering up at me while skipping over to the bed.
Getting out her pajama’s I quickly help her into them. “Well, you didn’t actually brush your teeth precious. But since it’s a really happy day, I’ll let it pass. Now into the bed with you before you fall asleep standing.” Scooping her I smile at her sleepy giggle and put her into the bed.
“Daddy? Will Aunty Cordelia come live wif us too now?”
I pause at the question, hesitantly sitting down on the bed. “Err… I don’t think so, sweety. I... think Aunt Cordy wants back her old life.” Which will never happen. That’s gone, her old life is gone. And so’s mine. We’ll never get that back, no matter how much we that to happen. “I doubt she’d want to live with a boring chap like myself.”
Another eyeroll as she snuggled under the covers. “You’s not boring,” she informs me, “yous just old.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you? Did you still want that story?”
She nods around her thumb in her mouth, pointing at the book on the nightstand. I don’t think I’m going to be able to finish it this time either. At this rate Goldilocks is going to starve from hunger, she’ll never reach any porridge.
"We could get him to read Angel."
"You could get him to agree to that?" I ask doubtfully. "It's going to have to come from you. Angel hasn't exactly been professing his undying love for this part of town these days." A fact that I'm not entirely glib and guilt-free about, especially not when the familiar shadow creeps into Wesley's expression.
"Or Lorne could catch him singing in the shower," I muse idly, raising an eyebrow at Alicia who's pointedly not-eavesdropping from the door and waiting impatiently for the chocolate cheesecake portion of the evening. Can't say I blame her. I'll take a sugary dessert over hopeless battle plans any day of the week.
"But unless we're planning on getting our righteous wrath on tonight, I'm going to go order some dinner." I look askance at Wes, immediately kick myself for falling into that habit in front of Cordelia, and get to my feet.
"And you wanted the deep-fried broccoli for dessert, right?" I tease Alicia, getting a scandalized look in response.
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Whatever smile was on my face dies down completely at that thought. I miss my best friend sometimes. Sometimes, I wish things could be like they used to be. Just him, Cordy and I working from our old office. But things can never be the same. I’m happy now as well with Lindsey and my girls. But there are times I miss my friends. I don’t have any friends left, aside from Lorne, and the occasional phone call from Fred. If she remembers.
“Like, oh my gosh,” Alicia’s voice comes as she rolls her eyes in a theatrical way at Lindsey. “You’re *so* funny. Ha, ha, ha. Don’t give up your day job just yet.” Someone has been watching to much telly. She waves the menu’s in his face with a scowl before telling him exactly what she wanted.
Marilee has taken the momentary distraction to climb back into my lap and I automatically help her. Getting our righteous wrath, I’m not even sure we can. Or want to. I just want to grab Lindsey, the girls and Cordy. Make a run for it, far, far away from here. And then feel guilty for the rest of my life for leaving them behind. But I’d already tried and came up empty handed and mostly bruised and battered as a things for my effort.
“Let’s just…get some dinner and things-things will look so much better in the…in the morning,” I mumble, trying to sound more cheerful then I feel. After that revelation, who would feel cheerful? Mustering up a smile for Cordelia’s benefit, I shift Marilee in a more comfortable position.
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"Somehow I doubt it," I say softly and if ever I've understood the term 'rueful', I understand it right now. Again, me get Angel to sing? Doubtful.
I'm almost grateful when Lindsey suggests forgetting our whole righteous wrath thing for tonight. Dinner sounds good - I'm actually pretty hungry - and I want to spend more time with them all without this hanging over our heads, thank you very much.
I laugh as Alicia waves a couple of menu's at Lindsey, telling him that she so did NOT want deep-fried brocoli for desert, and glance over at Wes as he shuffles Marilee onto his laugh and tells us that things will look better tomorrow.
The sad thing about that is that after months, hell years of fighting the good fight? I know that's what we tell ourselves. That things'll be okay, that it'll all look better in the morning, that yes, we're fine and not being killed by visions or being driven half mad by prophecies that were never gonna come true anyway. That's what we tell ourselves because admitting anything else means admitting defeat. It means laying down and letting the evil law firm win and it's not like we can do that, however much we want to.
"You're right. We'll be okay." I nod. I'm lying, but it's okay 'cause if he can do it? I can to.
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Despite a completely disarming smile and a good sense of humor, Cordelia's a keystone of the most powerful kind. The Powers wanted her up and at 'em, the Partners wanted her out of the picture, nobody seems to know what was going on in Angel's head... and here she is, in our home. I'm sure as hell not going to say it in front of Wes, but I'm still trying to figure out if we've got a weapon or a time bomb on our hands.
"Lind-sey!" Alicia pouts, and I realize that I've been hovering near the doorway just a little bit too long, leaning back and trying to see if they're still holding hands. "What are you doing?"
"Ordering dinner," I shoot back, finally tearing myself away from the doorway and heading for the phone. 'Spying on your dad and his old friend' would be a slightly more honest answer, but I've noticed how things like that have a way of mysteriously getting back to Wesley's ears before long.
"Sometime before Christmas?" Alicia prompts, so I make a face at her and start to dial. It'll be good for those two to get a minute alone. I trust Wes enough to give them that much.
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Cordelia, who woke up after more then a year in that coma. A coma we’ve now learned she has been kept in, with Angel’s knowledge. He signed the papers. I know he can be terribly dense, but he’s not as dense as most people would believe. Or he would like most people to think. He must’ve read them, he must’ve know. What I don’t understand is why. Why did he do it? Just as I don’t understand why he treats me as though I were the enemy, as though I’d done something terrible to him.
Reaching out, I take hold of Cordelia’s hand again, squeezing it a little. I can practically feel Lindsey hovering nearby, trying *not* to hover from the kitchen. He knows what this woman, this best friend means to me and I do hope he’s not feeling threatened in any way. Shouldn’t he? Still lying to yourself and the world around you?
“I’ve missed you,” I tell Cordelia quietly, pushing the voices in my head away for now. “There have been several times I wished you were here. Help out with my girls,” I smile at Marilee who’s nearly asleep by now and listen to Lindsey argue with Alicia. They’re girls, I’m a guy, nothing more awkward then that. I mean, how soon will Alicia need her first…bra? “And I sure could’ve used you to knock some sense into Lindsey from time to time,” I say a little louder, eyes fondly shooting to the kitchen and back to Cordelia again.
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My gaze flickers back when finally he turns into Wes' kitchen and I glance down at our hands when he covers it again. “I’ve missed you,” he tells me quietly, and I guess I'm surprised. Wes isn't Angel when it comes to hiding his feelings but he's never been this direct before. Never been this honest. “There have been several times I wished you were here. Help out with my girls. And I sure could’ve used you to knock some sense into Lindsey from time to time.”
We both look at Marilee. She's almost asleep now, clutching her Boo like some tiny lifeline, like if she lets it go something awful's gonna happen. My gaze softens and not for the first moment since I walked in his apartment I remember that Wes is a father. He has new responsibilities now, new things to take care of and suddenly my decision on coming here doesn't seem all that great. "I dunno," I smile, letting my gaze flicker to where I know Lindsey's trying not to eavesdrop, "I think you knock sense into him well enough yourself."
Because that's what they do... For each other. That's what we did, once upon a time. Before vampires and babies and demons that lied and-- Things that I'm not gonna think about right now. "I missed you too," I say after a few seconds, when the silence gets too much. Does that sound silly? I heard Wes there, felt the weight of his hand over mine, and yet I missed him. Not just in the coma but before that. "I guess things changed a lot, huh?"
I look at Marilee again and then back at Wesley. Kind of an understatement, that - about things changing. It wasn't like I expected things to stay the same or anything, but for it to have changed this much and in such a short space of time... It's just kinda hard to wrap my head around.
"I'm glad that you found someone," I tell him, smiling. I guess that's sort of my apology. My 'sorry I abandoned you and kinda forced you to do it'. "Lindsey, the kids... They're good for you, Wes." And yeah, they are. Better than that law firm for Angel. Better than any choice I've ever made, that's for damn sure.
I just want him to know that I get the whole priority shift. If this is the end? If Angel really is dark and, like, the apocalypse is nigher than nigh? I don't expect him to fight. He shouldn't. I just needed to see a friendly face, that was all. One that didn't work for evil.
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"I'm glad that you found someone," she said to him, and isn’t that the sort of thing that you say when it was supposed to be each other that you found? The conversation swings one way and my nervous thoughts go charging in the exact opposite direction, and aren’t I supposed to be worrying about the end of the world?
The thing is, for me at least, losing them would be the end of the world. Would feel like the end of the world, anyway. I guess I didn’t think my wish through all that carefully when I’d sat beside Cordelia’s bed and begged her to wake up. So that I could see Wes smile like he’s doing right now; so that maybe some of those deep wounds left by the wringer he’d been drug through over the last couple years could finally start to heal in earnest.
Trick of perspective. I’d forgotten to consider how I would fit into that revised picture. Two Sunnydale survivors, dyed-in-the-wool heroes, champions in their own right. And then the guy with old bloodstains on his best suits. One of these things is not like the other…
And here I am, stuck. Because I love Wes. Big scary four-letter word that keeps a guy from thinking rationally. A concept that makes me wonder if I’m supposed to fight to keep him for myself, if it ever came down to that, or do what would make him happiest.
I mutter another useful four-letter word under my breath, before quickly apologizing to Alicia. If I can get through this evening without having a complete nervous breakdown, I’m sure everything will start to fall into place tomorrow. Insecurity is, in most cases, something that I can out wait.
“So I was thinking,” I announce, heading back into the dining room and cutting off the inevitable smart rejoinder from Alicia, “Hotels around here are pretty much criminally expensive, and we’ve got that spare bedroom…” I wander over to lean against the back of Wesley’s chair, watching Marilee fall asleep in his arms, evidently tuckered out from all the excitement. “It's probably not my place to invite you to stick around, but I’m sure Wes will catch on any minute now,” I tell Cordelia with a smile.
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Preparation, preparation, preparation. And keeping your boyfriend happy, is also important. It’s right up there with keeping the girls happy and safe. And wanting Cordelia back in my life. I seem to have all those things now, a dream come true, and yet there’s danger lurking around the corner. Typical.
But not for tonight. For tonight we can pretend, and act at though there’s nothing wrong.
Shifting Marilee in my arms, I look back at her, smile still in place when she tells me she missed me as well. At least someone did. Aside from Lorne, none of the others seem to. Fred at first, but she seems to be…less and less like Fred. “I’ve been very fortunate,” I tell her, smile widening when I hear Alicia scold Lindsey for…something. With those two, it could be just about anything. “They have been good for me, made me whole. Even though there was something missing until now.” Patting her hand, I have to pull it away to keep Marilee from sliding from my lap.
It’s that moment Lindsey comes back into the room. My eyebrow raised, because I think I’ve just been insulted. Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him and then at Cordelia when she giggles. “I am really not as dense as certain people, two here currently present the most, seem to think. *Of course* she’s going to be staying in the guestroom.” As if I was going to let her out of my sight right at this very moment. Just so she can vanish or some such? I don’t think so. And yes, maybe there’s a big part of me that’s afraid this is all a dream and I’m going to wake up soon.
“Like what spare bedroom?” Alicia wants to know, raising a very familiar eyebrow and obviously not well pleased about the fact that desert is still not here. Or the food. “The one Marilee and me are like totally sleeping in?”
“That would be the one,” I tell her calmly. “Which would also be the one where we put the foldable bed. You get to share with Aunt Cordy.”
She has to think about that for all of two seconds before her face lights up. “Okay! Cool. Now get with the food ordering thing, or tell them to hurry up or whatever.”
“Alicia,” I scold her, getting up with Marilee in my arms. “Language, if you please. I’m going to put the little one to bed, I’ll be right back.” Without thinking about it, I lean in to kiss Lindsey before moving over to the girls room. Might as well get the bed ready while I’m there anyway. Marilee has this habit of sleeping through a lot if she wants to.
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I blink at that. I remember everything Wes said while I was in that coma - the days he'd tell me about Alicia and some new, outrageous thing she'd said. The days he told me about how much he missed me, about how much he wished I was awake. I've always been good at reading between the lines, though. I know Wes. I know when he's hiding something, most of the time, and more often not the things he didn't say? Were the ones that spoke the loudest.
"I wasn't missing," I tell him gently, "I was just..." Absent. Being controlled by something else. In a coma. How I don't have issues a thousand miles long is beyond me.
“So I was thinking, hotels around here are pretty much criminally expensive, and we’ve got that spare bedroom… It's probably not my place to invite you to stick around, but I’m sure Wes will catch on any minute now.”
I glance up at Lindsey as he places his arms on the back of Wesley's seat and--Okay, you're kind of doomed when you realise the gay-couple-that-you-never-thought-would-be-gay are actually kind of sweet to each other. Geez.
"He always was a little slow on the uptake," I supply helpfully, giggling when Wes glares at me.
“I am really not as dense as certain people, two here currently present the most, seem to think. *Of course* she’s going to be staying in the guestroom.”
What else had I thought Wes would do; toss me out on the street? Well, no, not really. But since I can't even afford a hostel right now, I'll have to take what I can get. I'm quick to say that I don't want to intrude on Marilee and Alicia but she decides that's okay as long as we hurry up and order the food. "Don't worry," I tell her, mock-straight-face, "If I snore? I give you permission to kick me." I so do NOT snore, though. Well there was that one time at the ballet but that was Snooze Central.
Wesley kisses Lindsey and excuses himself to put Marilee down while Alicia takes a look at the menus again, torturing herself with the want of food. I look back at Lindsey. "I heard, y'know..." I tell him. He looks puzzled and for a moment I've flapped Unflappable Lawyer Boy. Score one for Cordy. "In the coma, I mean," I smile, "Your little pep talk?"
I shoot a look at Alicia who is either not listening or trying really hard to pretend to not listen so I lower my voice. "I'm no bigger advocate for the I've done things in my past that I'm not proud of'..." I guess Lindsey knows about that, well, as much as Wes does anyway. "But... I know you're good for him. I know he's happy with you. And whatever happens these next few days? I just want you to know I'm glad about that. And no hard feelings over the once trying to kill me thing." I finish, grinning.
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I’ve probably got ‘love-struck fool’ written all over my face, and there doesn’t seem to be much I can do about that fact besides hope that I’m not making Cordelia nervous. She doesn’t seem to be have been put off by the whole… ‘us’ thing so far, and that in itself is surprising. Not really the ‘us’ thing so much as the ‘Lindsey McDonald’ thing. But if she’s willing to give me a chance, I’m sure as hell going to take it, for Wesley’s sake.
"I heard, y'know..."
Aw, crap. What kind of super-ears does this girl have? I didn’t curse that loudly in front of Alicia…
"In the coma, I mean. Your little pep talk?"
“You heard that?” I echo in surprise, not sure whether to be embarrassing or a little bit thrilled that we’d been getting through after all. But damn, wasn’t that something to think about. Being stuck like that, with nothing to do but listen to the world moving on around you, no way to communicate. My respect for what she’s been through kicks up another couple notches.
From the sounds of it, I’ve got the tentative Chase stamp of approval, and hey look, there’s that uncontrollable smile again. “Thank you,” I say quietly, even as she adds on the trying-to-kill-her bit. “Never happen again,” I swear earnestly with a sheepish grin, making a cross-my-heart gesture. And not just because I’d get my ass kicked six ways from Sunday if I ever tried anything like that again. I like her.
“It really is good to have you back. A guy could run himself into the ground getting a smile like that from Wes,” I tell her, leaning against the table and managing to let go of all the things that I’m supposed to be worrying about. Well. For the most part.
"Hey listen," I murmur, lowering my voice and cutting my eyes towards the door, "We're doing okay here. Keeping the girls safe, keeping food on the table, but... L.A.'s a nightmare these days, and I don't know how long we can keep this up. Wesley's too proud to ask you for help." I shake my head with a wry smile. "I'm not."
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Confused, I blink down at a pair of big blue bleary eyes blinking back at me. “Booh? Are you trying to scare me, precious? I thought you were asleep?”
She rolls her eyes at me which makes it evident that Alicia will get heavy competition when it comes to facial expressions in the future. “I was,” she yawns, snuggling closer to me and wrapping her arms around my neck. “Boo,” she says again, putting an emphasis on the word.
Ah, it dawns on me now that she’s wrapped her arms around my neck. “And where did Boo wander off to?” Raising my eyebrow, I glance down at her questionably before glancing around.
“I droppered him,” Marilee nods sagely at that, small head glancing around as well. “Oh by the door, daddy Wesley.”
Giving her a mock frown, I turn around and look at the door. “So he is. Poor Boo. “You better go get him quickly then hmm?” Putting her down on the floor, little legs run toward Boo and scoop up the little…whatever the hell that thing is. Wombat or some such.
“You gonna wead us a stowy?” she asked, peering up at me while skipping over to the bed.
Getting out her pajama’s I quickly help her into them. “Well, you didn’t actually brush your teeth precious. But since it’s a really happy day, I’ll let it pass. Now into the bed with you before you fall asleep standing.” Scooping her I smile at her sleepy giggle and put her into the bed.
“Daddy? Will Aunty Cordelia come live wif us too now?”
I pause at the question, hesitantly sitting down on the bed. “Err… I don’t think so, sweety. I... think Aunt Cordy wants back her old life.” Which will never happen. That’s gone, her old life is gone. And so’s mine. We’ll never get that back, no matter how much we that to happen. “I doubt she’d want to live with a boring chap like myself.”
Another eyeroll as she snuggled under the covers. “You’s not boring,” she informs me, “yous just old.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you? Did you still want that story?”
She nods around her thumb in her mouth, pointing at the book on the nightstand. I don’t think I’m going to be able to finish it this time either. At this rate Goldilocks is going to starve from hunger, she’ll never reach any porridge.
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