"Finally," Lorne mutters. Though it's a fairly audible mutter so I'm very certain he's meant or us to hear that. I'm not sure if Angel's hearing it, but I'm only doing so half. I'm to busy staring at Angel. Mouth half open in awe and yes, I'll be damned. There would be those bloody allergies that have been in absentia for so long.
Why the hell didn't he say *that* right away? Why'd he have to go and say *our* son right after I staked Darla? Right after I staked the poor child's mother? She may have been a bitch but she still-- Actually no. She didn't love the child, I think if she could have she'd have killed the boy to get rid of it. It wasn't her lack of trying that kept her from doing so.
"Oh-- I--- Uhm." Am very glad my eyes are hidden behind my glasses, because they're turning somewhat misty while I keep staring at Angel. That is, until the little one makes a strange noise I hadn't heard before. Somewhat concerned I quickly look over at the infant - Angel maybe be able to sweep my staking Darla under the rug, no pun intended, but I doubt he'd forgive me for making his son even uncomfortable.
Our son. Our son. I'm not sure what to think of that. A child isn't something I'd ever thought about, considering the life-span of a watcher. And when I got together with Angel the point was moot. How painfully ironic that it's *he* who's ending up with the human child instead of I, isn't it? Another thing you can't get right. Creating off spring.
Shut up. I hate that bloody inner voice, I thought it had vanished by now.
Instead of listening to it, I focus on the child and realize the noise I've heard was him...burping. And spitting all over my shirt. Well, that was to be suspected I suppose. Now I can do two things. Put that strange little outfit on the boy myself, or let Lorne do it. The point it, that I need to talk to Angel.
"Lorne," I murmur, slowly getting up from my seat while I carefully cradle the boy in my arms. "Would you mind--"
"Oh give the little munchikin to Uncle Lorne," Lorne croons, sweeping the boy out of my arms with an expertise that's frightening. "Go on, you two do the whole talking thing," he shoos us with one hand while holding onto the baby he's put on the desk on a towel. "And make sure to keep the door open so I can read the vibes, creampuffs. Cause wooh boy do you two suck a the whole comunicado thing. Yes they do, don't they?" he assures the child.
I stand there for several moments, the silence practically deafening - except that's because everything seems so damn loud, the tiny sounds of the baby, Wes, Lorne, all of their breathing and heartbeats, the hotel's usual creaks and groans but not one word until Lorne mumbles something in what sounds like relief.
Still nothing from Wes, but his eyes look kind of funny, and I can't tell if he's happy or sad, but I really, really want him to be happy- Babies are so distracting. Still nothing because...oh, spit-up. Hmm, gonna have to remember to have a towel handy, otherwise I'm going to have so many ruined shirts, and with a baby in the house, I don't really think we're going to have the same sort of budget for my wardrobe. Or Cordy's. Oh, god, she's going to freak out! And why the hell can't he say something besides umm?
I shove my hands in my pockets and wait, eyes following the little fella as he gets handed off to Lorne- Hey, I was going to do that! Not first to put on the diaper, not first to feed him, not first to put on his clothes. Damn it. I guess...I was the first to touch him and see those eyes of his. That's...something. I nod at whatever Lorne's saying, my eyes back on Wes now that Connor is out of the room. Connor? Hmm. Yeah, Connor, I think with a faint smile. Connor. Connor Wyndam-Pryce? If Wes goes for this...
"So talking," I say, suddenly not remembering anything of what I wanted to tell him. He's got to say something. "So...what do you think, Wes?" I murmur, shifting from one foot to the other and feeling a little bit of a smile wanting to creep out at the knot in my gut. I actually want this so bad that I'm worrying about it. I do, I really do. But I won't push. If he's not ready to be a dad, I'll get over it. We'll work something out. He can have...uncle duty. Something. Anything.
Lorne gets a scolding look, which slides off his back like water, at his suggestion we keep the door open. Even though he is right. I thought Angel and I had worked on those communication issues during our vacation. But it would seem there's still a lot left we get confused about. And not in a comical funny way. No, don't I wish it were that way. We get confused in a way that weaves a tangled web and we get so constricted in it we'll never find our way out. And thus destroying everything we've build up so far.
Thank god for Lorne then, I can only say. Despite his instructions we leave the door open. He has a point. How sad is it that Angel and I cannot seem to communicate without the need for a translator? Be that Lorne, Cordelia or even Gunn. What sort of a basis is that for a child to grow up in? To have the most important man of his life unable to communicate with the man he loves? Sometimes love isn't enough.
I'm damn well going to work on this communicating thing. Just swallow my pride - nothing new there, you've done it all your life haven't you, Pryce? - and just nod at whatever Angel wants. Unless, of course, it wouldn't benefit the child. Not that I think Angel will endanger the infant, god no. He's however not well versed when it comes to modern child rearing. Uhm, neither am I, now that I think about it.
Before I worry about that though, I need to talk to Angel first. And that is one very difficult hurdle to cross. Considering he's not very big on talking, or using words and his actions aren't always that clear. I'm still extremely puzzled that he's taking my staking Darla so calmly. Very confusing.
"I think before we make any decisions on anything I would like to know what your feelings are considering my staking Darla. She was your sire, Angel. You've spend hundreds of years with her. You have to feel something," I point out calmly. Hurdle one, ready to be leaped or stumbled over, it all depends on Angel.
Still nothing from Wes as Lorne disappears. My ears are still trained on little Connor, and I can hear all his little gurgles in the next room as Lorne makes little crooning sounds to amuse and sooth the boy.
Okay, nothing, and then all he can ask about is Darla? Darla, Darla, Darla! Why does he care so much about her? I hold back the little sigh that wants to come out. Okay, well, if he's so worried about her, then maybe he's worried that... That I wanted to have this baby with her? No! I would never want a child with her, even if she hadn't been evil. The only person who's made me think about kids really is Wes. Buffy, I thought should at least have the option, just like I thought Wes should have, but... Now there is a kid, and this is my choice.
"I want you. I don't want anyone else. And I sure as hell never wanted Darla to raise Connor." Saying the name out loud sounds right too. Good. "I have my own issues with Darla, you're right, but I'm not sorry you accidentally staked her." And here a little emotion gets stuck in my throat. "You saved our son. She would have run off, or worse killed him. Staking her may have been the only way to save him." I say, searching out Wes' hand to hold, entwining our fingers tightly. "As far as I'm concerned, you gave this child to me, to us." My eyes search his knowing he's going to balk at that thought.
"There's nothing I can do about Darla, and I wouldn't want her in the picture anyway. I've staked her before, Wes. I'm sorry I never had the guts to do it the second time." She was a threat to all of us, and I of all people know just how ruthless and lethal she can be so I should have done it. A long time ago. "Maybe it's not hitting me right now, but nothing I've said is going to change," I say, hand reaching up to touch his face. "I'm not angry with you, I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault." And I really wasn't planning on saying all of that. Whew. Wes sure knows how to make me talk. Sometimes, I think I figure if I throw enough words at him, that some of them will sink in and he'll actually believe me.
The look in his eyes, on his face when I mention Darla is so fierce I find myself taking a step back without realizing it. I knew it, he *is* mad at me for killing his-- his whatever she was now. I can't think of anything else that would make him react in such a way other then Darla and her being dust now. The mother of his child. It's a frightening look to be honest, which is why the contemplative one that follow is quite confusing.
Holding my breath I look at him with wide eyes, wondering what'll come next. I'm trying to remind myself of his words only moments ago. Ones that almost made me cry. Did make me cry though I don't thing they noticed since I managed to swallow it down just in time. I think. Hope. Wouldn't want Angel or Lorne to get the wrong idea.
I'm not sorry I dusted Darla. I am sorry I dusted the boy's mother. And I do, more then anything, want to be part of Angel's life. His and that little boys. But I'm not sure if I have a *right* to it, since Darla had to be expecting that child for a *reason*. One I may have tampered with by staking her. This is all so confusing that part of me is just itching to go down and research this whole mess. Safely in my research comfort zone.
Angel's finally talking though and I'm still holding my breath. So taking one to fill my lungs with oxygen would be useful. I seem to be unable to, staring at Angel and trying to take in his words. A lot of words. My goodness he sure knows how to talk if he has to doesn't he? Why doesn't he always do that? Would make things so much easier. Or not. Considering it takes him a whole speech and then finally says what I wanted to hear at the very end of it.
"Missed a lot of classes at speeching school?" Lorne interrupted as he slips passed us. He gives us both a look of slight frustration and pushes the boy into Angel's arms. I thought it was good speech, even if I was going to protest most of his words.
"Recap," he says, holding his hands off to shut us both up. "Cause I can see this going the fast lane of confusion again. You," he points at Angel, "not angry at him for killing the bimbo vampire of doom. You," he points at me, "Feeling totally needlessly for doing it anyway. But hey, you're relieved to hear him say he's not blaming you yeah?" I nod, swallowing down another lump forming in my throat.
"Good muffin, cause he's right. Darla no so sweet would have killed the little cookie. You did save the kiddo so get off the guilt train leaving the station now, you're not getting on."
I frown, wondering why he feels the need to repeat everything Angel already said. Of course I was about to protest everything Angel said as well, but hearing them both say it changes something. Strangely enough. "Oh-- I-- Oh..."
"Yeah, word of the evening huh? Crumb-cake, do you love Angel?" Lorne asks.
"Of course I do," I reply vehemently, looking at him offended. "I love him more then--" my own life. I think that much was already obvious, doesn't mean Angel likes to hear it.
"Good, do you wanna be part of the little munchking rearing thing or not? Cause I'm thinking Angel on his own doing that? Big fluffy lug is already panicking, aren't you Angel?"
I stare at Angel, strangely enough having slid closer to him and the boy. A little boy who seems to be so quiet and thoughtful it's almost as though he's the one holding his breath for this conversation. Lorne knew what he was doing, bringing the boy in, didn't he? Bastard. One who's right though, one who can see right through us, even if we don't sing.
"I love you," I whisper, looking Angel directly in his eyes. My hand comes up to brush the back of one finger over the child's face only to have the boy grab on to the moving digit. It makes me smile as I briefly look down. It's still in place when I look up at Angel. "I don't know anything about children or raising them," I mumble, feeling a fear settle over me that a thousand of men and women, parents must've felt before me. "But I want to know, want to learn. With you. If you'll let me, want me too."
"Never blamed you, not for a second," I murmur in between Lorne's words as he glides right in, inserting himself into the conversation, obviously necessarily so if the looks on Wes' face are anything to go by. I look down briefly at a noise and see Connor in my arms - I didn't even notice Lorne do it - and he feels exactly right there. Like the little boy has been there all along.
And there goes that chest tightening feeling when Wes so vehemently says that of course he loves me. My chest tightens further and my throat closes, because I know the end of that next sentence even if he doesn't say it. I don't like to think it or hear it, but I know that's how he feels. Sometimes I wish he didn't - because *I* love *him* so much - but he does and it...obviously reduces me to a nearly watery eyed vampire hearing it.
I nod about the panicking, because there's no denying it, that's been my emotion from the second Darla walked in here with that stomach. Connor is quiet in my arms and I have to look down to make sure he's alright, glancing back up only to find Wes *right* there.
I'm so far taken aback that he's just said he loves me in front of Lorne that there are several moments where I just stand there clutching Connor, and staring at Wes. The smile though, the smile at touching my son, our son, and then that smile at me has me snapping out of it and leaning in for a firm, ferociously emotional kiss, while trying not to crush Connor. It's not an endlessly long kiss, but I pour everything I've got into that kiss. "I want to learn with you, I want you with me, with us, I was so-" I choke off the rest of that because it sounds so foolish. I was so scared. So scared you wouldn't want this, because there's no way I can do this on my own. I would if it came down to it, but I would be terrified every step of the way.
My hand cradles Wes' cheek. "I want him to have your name. Wesley." I blink at Wes, thinking I might be feeling definitely a little allergic, too. "Connor Wesley Wyndam-Pryce," I say firmly. "I want us to be a family," I say in a whisper, not quite grasping what I'm saying, but letting it all tumble out anyway. There's a tiny little warm body squirming in my arms and he deserves a family. A real one. "What do you think?"
He stands there, staring at me as though I said-- something utterly horrid or something utterly wonderful. I'm thinking the jury is still out on that one with that facial expression of his. I do notice, however, that unlike any other time? He's not saying back. He doesn't say he loves me and there's a coldness of fear settling in my stomach that doesn't seem to want to away any time soon. Not even when he looks up at me and I notice his eyes have turned somewhat watery.
Are we back to square one when it comes to those words? I still vividly remember the first time I said them to him. He reacted in a way I hadn't expected. Almost angry at me for saying them. And now? Now he can't say them again. Why? Why can't he say he loves me too? Especial now when it's so important, when our future isn't just about us anymore?
Which is what I'm still thinking when there are suddenly some very cool lips crushing mine with a force hard enough to bruise. I'm left breathless and blinking at him stupidly when he finally - unfortunately - has to end the kiss. Otherwise I'd be out of breath and we'll end up crushing the poor infant.
Lorne seems to have gone unusually quiet and I see him waving some cloth around from the corner or my eyes. I myself have dropped my eyes away from Angel's face so he can't read in mine how much it hurt to *not* hear him say he loves me back, despite the desperate kiss. Instead I look down at the boy, happily gurgling away, unaware of all the things going on around him. Somehow this tiny child manages to make me smile again though.
Connor. Connor? That's a-- very Irish name I guess. It's then that I notice the rest of the names the poor lad got tacked on. Wesley. He's going to name him after-- after me? Dammit, there are those allergies again. And sniffing to boot. Bloody hell, I'm so glad Cordelia's not around.
Wait a moment. I'm not the one sniffling. Lorne is! I glance at our green demon friend from the corner or my eyes - one who has no shame nor the decency to let us have some privacy. No doubt in fear we muck things up again - and raise an eyebrow. Which is when I realize Angel's tossed in my last names there as well.
Oh. Oh that poor child. I recall having to grow up with two last names - lets not even start about how everyone is *always* spelling it wrong - and it not something I wish for the boy to go through. For Connor. His name is Connor.
Then I'm wondering what's wrong with Angel's own last name, since Connor *is* his son. Of course there's never any mention of Angel's last name and I doubt he even remembers. Angel I mean, though you think one would. But after over two hundred and nearly fifty years? He might've forgotten, or maybe he wants to forget?
"I think," I whisper, watching as Connor is still playing with my finger, a soft, tender smile playing my lips, "that you're condemning the poor boy to a horrid future with a name like that." I look up, already expecting the disappointed shocked look in Angel's eyes. "May I suggest dropping the 'Wyndam'? It's very British, which Connor really isn't. Connor Wesley Pryce is really a very handsome name."
"Oh," Lorne blurts dramatically waving his handkerchief, "This is to cute, you two are killing me here. But we really need to think about some serious business here for the cookie and for you two cream-puff. Mostly Angel since he's paperless?" And this is followed by a significant look as though either of us has any idea what he's talking about.
There's a shadow crossing Wes' face as I release him from the kiss, and I wonder what's going on, what did I miss that I've upset him about? He doesn't look at me, he looks at Connor. The little smile perks back up but still, his eyes are not completely smiling. What did I say? Did he not want me to kiss him in front of Lorne? I know that's over the top for us usually and I know he gets antsy about those displays of affection but- Oh. Oh. It's because I didn't say it. I couldn't. I'm not- That's private. Lorne's here, I'm not saying it in front of Lorne.
So if my face falls a little when he says the name would be a bad idea, who could blame me for thinking that I've screwed everything up once again. He's doing that cute smile though, so there's still a little bit of hope in me that he actually likes the idea. I don't think there's anyone else's name he could have anyway. I certainly don't have a last name these days.
I've been a demon much, much longer than I've been a human, and as much as I'd hate to admit it, I'm more like Angelus than I am like 'Liam' anymore, he's still in me, but... I'm not that man, and I don't want Connor to have his family name. The things I did to that family... I don't want him to have that connection. I do want to remember where we came from, but not that family, not who I was. The person I was then would never have been able to take care of this boy, would have gotten Father to pay Darla off to go have the child alone in a nunnery or somewhere. I don't want to think about that part of myself when I look at my son.
So I nod agreeably and feel time start to go forward again when Wes suggests giving Connor only part of his name. "Very handsome," I murmur in agreement wondering when Lorne will go away so that I can ease those shadows hiding in Wes' eyes. There's a loud bleat of a nose being blown and I realize, no, Lorne is not going away any time soon.
"What?" I look at Lorne in confusion and with daggers when he pipes up with some nonsense about papers? "I don't need papers," I say looking at Lorne still confused, still staying the the tangled knot of Wes, Connor and I. "Can't it wait?" I ask, really wanting a second to talk to Wes alone. He's still fretting about me not saying I love him back, I can just feel it.
"No honeybunn," Lorne sighs the sigh of the ever frustrated. Which might be the case currently. "You? No papers," he explains to Angel. "Him? No papers either. So if you wanna be big daddy-o? And not have Wolfram and Hart catch on and call child welfare services? I'm suggesting you get papers pronto oh tall, dark and broody."
I frown at those words, glancing down at Connor worried. Lorne has a point. Wolfram and Hart knows what's going on at all times it seems. The moment they get wind of Connor and who his parents are? The child wont be safe from them. And what would be easier then having the child legally taken away due to the lack of papers? Papers which will show that Connor is Angel's son and Angel's a legal citizen.
Alright, the latter is sort of a lie, since he's *legally* dead.
I repeat Lorne's sigh, realizing that the rest of any problems will have to wait. From now on they will all have to wait. Connor will come first. Not just for me, I already know that is the case for Angel. It's just that neither of us is used to being around children, let alone be responsible for one. And legally making Connor Angel's is the first step to providing the boy's safety.
"He's right, Angel," I say, tugging on the finger Connor's still clutching. And apparently not about to let go. As though he's afraid I'm going to walk away or some such. "We need papers proving that Connor is your son. Which means you're going to have a last name as well. Err...one that is the same as Connor's so you might want to re-think about the 'Pryce'?" Not that I want him to. I *like* Connor Wesley Pryce.
"Unless you two get married," Lorne blubbers out. Apparently he gets two very shocked looks at those words aimed at him because he holds up his hands and rolls his eyes. "Joking, joking. Geeze crumbcakes, tone down on the panic. But hey, Angel Pryce? Not so bad? Huh? Huh?"
I listen to them go back and for about the legal stuff. Yeah, okay, that's a problem, but-
Married? The shock quickly turns to annoyance at Lorne and if I was shooting daggers at him before, I'm shooting a death glare at him now. That is not- Wes isn't ready. He hasn't even given me his mark yet, how's he going to be ready for some big ceremony and me taking his name *and* a baby? I was- That was *my* subject to bring up.
This is just- It's too much and I'm starting to get antsy. Antsy in a bad way like I want everybody out of the room except me and Connor. Can't they just let me be with my son for a second? Does this all have to be decided right now?
"Angel Pryce sounds fine, but- and I want Connor to have your name, Wes, but-"
"Great, Angelcakes, then that's settled!"
"No, I-" I suck in a breath of frustration. "Lorne can we have a minute?" This is all going just a little too fast. I look down at the little bundle in my arms and the way he's clinging to Wes. Smart boy. Already knows who needs to be held onto in the room. Anchored.
"If he's Wes' son, then he'll legally be his son. Wes should be his legal guardian. I don't even exist. I can't-" I shake my head at them. We'd have to get too many fake documents, and I really, really shouldn't be on paper. That could end up being more dangerous for Connor. Me in the system. What if someone finds out what I am? This is why I don't live in the world. I'm a part of the dark, and my son is not going to worry about that. "It's better for Connor that way," I murmur. It doesn't matter if the law says he's mine. I'll know. Connor will understand.
My hand clutches Wes' arm too, and I look at him unflinchingly. "I want us together." My eyes flick to the teary Lorne and back to Wes. "But I don't want us to rush this." And I don't want to get rushed into it because Lorne thinks it's adorable. And I want some goddamn privacy so that I can stop screwing up with Wes who is just going to hear rejection, isn't he?
Why the hell didn't he say *that* right away? Why'd he have to go and say *our* son right after I staked Darla? Right after I staked the poor child's mother? She may have been a bitch but she still-- Actually no. She didn't love the child, I think if she could have she'd have killed the boy to get rid of it. It wasn't her lack of trying that kept her from doing so.
"Oh-- I--- Uhm." Am very glad my eyes are hidden behind my glasses, because they're turning somewhat misty while I keep staring at Angel. That is, until the little one makes a strange noise I hadn't heard before. Somewhat concerned I quickly look over at the infant - Angel maybe be able to sweep my staking Darla under the rug, no pun intended, but I doubt he'd forgive me for making his son even uncomfortable.
Our son. Our son. I'm not sure what to think of that. A child isn't something I'd ever thought about, considering the life-span of a watcher. And when I got together with Angel the point was moot. How painfully ironic that it's *he* who's ending up with the human child instead of I, isn't it? Another thing you can't get right. Creating off spring.
Shut up. I hate that bloody inner voice, I thought it had vanished by now.
Instead of listening to it, I focus on the child and realize the noise I've heard was him...burping. And spitting all over my shirt. Well, that was to be suspected I suppose. Now I can do two things. Put that strange little outfit on the boy myself, or let Lorne do it. The point it, that I need to talk to Angel.
"Lorne," I murmur, slowly getting up from my seat while I carefully cradle the boy in my arms. "Would you mind--"
"Oh give the little munchikin to Uncle Lorne," Lorne croons, sweeping the boy out of my arms with an expertise that's frightening. "Go on, you two do the whole talking thing," he shoos us with one hand while holding onto the baby he's put on the desk on a towel. "And make sure to keep the door open so I can read the vibes, creampuffs. Cause wooh boy do you two suck a the whole comunicado thing. Yes they do, don't they?" he assures the child.
Reply
Still nothing from Wes, but his eyes look kind of funny, and I can't tell if he's happy or sad, but I really, really want him to be happy- Babies are so distracting. Still nothing because...oh, spit-up. Hmm, gonna have to remember to have a towel handy, otherwise I'm going to have so many ruined shirts, and with a baby in the house, I don't really think we're going to have the same sort of budget for my wardrobe. Or Cordy's. Oh, god, she's going to freak out! And why the hell can't he say something besides umm?
I shove my hands in my pockets and wait, eyes following the little fella as he gets handed off to Lorne- Hey, I was going to do that! Not first to put on the diaper, not first to feed him, not first to put on his clothes. Damn it. I guess...I was the first to touch him and see those eyes of his. That's...something. I nod at whatever Lorne's saying, my eyes back on Wes now that Connor is out of the room. Connor? Hmm. Yeah, Connor, I think with a faint smile. Connor. Connor Wyndam-Pryce? If Wes goes for this...
"So talking," I say, suddenly not remembering anything of what I wanted to tell him. He's got to say something. "So...what do you think, Wes?" I murmur, shifting from one foot to the other and feeling a little bit of a smile wanting to creep out at the knot in my gut. I actually want this so bad that I'm worrying about it. I do, I really do. But I won't push. If he's not ready to be a dad, I'll get over it. We'll work something out. He can have...uncle duty. Something. Anything.
Reply
Thank god for Lorne then, I can only say. Despite his instructions we leave the door open. He has a point. How sad is it that Angel and I cannot seem to communicate without the need for a translator? Be that Lorne, Cordelia or even Gunn. What sort of a basis is that for a child to grow up in? To have the most important man of his life unable to communicate with the man he loves? Sometimes love isn't enough.
I'm damn well going to work on this communicating thing. Just swallow my pride - nothing new there, you've done it all your life haven't you, Pryce? - and just nod at whatever Angel wants. Unless, of course, it wouldn't benefit the child. Not that I think Angel will endanger the infant, god no. He's however not well versed when it comes to modern child rearing. Uhm, neither am I, now that I think about it.
Before I worry about that though, I need to talk to Angel first. And that is one very difficult hurdle to cross. Considering he's not very big on talking, or using words and his actions aren't always that clear. I'm still extremely puzzled that he's taking my staking Darla so calmly. Very confusing.
"I think before we make any decisions on anything I would like to know what your feelings are considering my staking Darla. She was your sire, Angel. You've spend hundreds of years with her. You have to feel something," I point out calmly. Hurdle one, ready to be leaped or stumbled over, it all depends on Angel.
Reply
Okay, nothing, and then all he can ask about is Darla? Darla, Darla, Darla! Why does he care so much about her? I hold back the little sigh that wants to come out. Okay, well, if he's so worried about her, then maybe he's worried that... That I wanted to have this baby with her? No! I would never want a child with her, even if she hadn't been evil. The only person who's made me think about kids really is Wes. Buffy, I thought should at least have the option, just like I thought Wes should have, but... Now there is a kid, and this is my choice.
"I want you. I don't want anyone else. And I sure as hell never wanted Darla to raise Connor." Saying the name out loud sounds right too. Good. "I have my own issues with Darla, you're right, but I'm not sorry you accidentally staked her." And here a little emotion gets stuck in my throat. "You saved our son. She would have run off, or worse killed him. Staking her may have been the only way to save him." I say, searching out Wes' hand to hold, entwining our fingers tightly. "As far as I'm concerned, you gave this child to me, to us." My eyes search his knowing he's going to balk at that thought.
"There's nothing I can do about Darla, and I wouldn't want her in the picture anyway. I've staked her before, Wes. I'm sorry I never had the guts to do it the second time." She was a threat to all of us, and I of all people know just how ruthless and lethal she can be so I should have done it. A long time ago. "Maybe it's not hitting me right now, but nothing I've said is going to change," I say, hand reaching up to touch his face. "I'm not angry with you, I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault." And I really wasn't planning on saying all of that. Whew. Wes sure knows how to make me talk. Sometimes, I think I figure if I throw enough words at him, that some of them will sink in and he'll actually believe me.
Reply
Holding my breath I look at him with wide eyes, wondering what'll come next. I'm trying to remind myself of his words only moments ago. Ones that almost made me cry. Did make me cry though I don't thing they noticed since I managed to swallow it down just in time. I think. Hope. Wouldn't want Angel or Lorne to get the wrong idea.
I'm not sorry I dusted Darla. I am sorry I dusted the boy's mother. And I do, more then anything, want to be part of Angel's life. His and that little boys. But I'm not sure if I have a *right* to it, since Darla had to be expecting that child for a *reason*. One I may have tampered with by staking her. This is all so confusing that part of me is just itching to go down and research this whole mess. Safely in my research comfort zone.
Angel's finally talking though and I'm still holding my breath. So taking one to fill my lungs with oxygen would be useful. I seem to be unable to, staring at Angel and trying to take in his words. A lot of words. My goodness he sure knows how to talk if he has to doesn't he? Why doesn't he always do that? Would make things so much easier. Or not. Considering it takes him a whole speech and then finally says what I wanted to hear at the very end of it.
"Missed a lot of classes at speeching school?" Lorne interrupted as he slips passed us. He gives us both a look of slight frustration and pushes the boy into Angel's arms. I thought it was good speech, even if I was going to protest most of his words.
"Recap," he says, holding his hands off to shut us both up. "Cause I can see this going the fast lane of confusion again. You," he points at Angel, "not angry at him for killing the bimbo vampire of doom. You," he points at me, "Feeling totally needlessly for doing it anyway. But hey, you're relieved to hear him say he's not blaming you yeah?" I nod, swallowing down another lump forming in my throat.
"Good muffin, cause he's right. Darla no so sweet would have killed the little cookie. You did save the kiddo so get off the guilt train leaving the station now, you're not getting on."
I frown, wondering why he feels the need to repeat everything Angel already said. Of course I was about to protest everything Angel said as well, but hearing them both say it changes something. Strangely enough. "Oh-- I-- Oh..."
"Yeah, word of the evening huh? Crumb-cake, do you love Angel?" Lorne asks.
"Of course I do," I reply vehemently, looking at him offended. "I love him more then--" my own life. I think that much was already obvious, doesn't mean Angel likes to hear it.
"Good, do you wanna be part of the little munchking rearing thing or not? Cause I'm thinking Angel on his own doing that? Big fluffy lug is already panicking, aren't you Angel?"
I stare at Angel, strangely enough having slid closer to him and the boy. A little boy who seems to be so quiet and thoughtful it's almost as though he's the one holding his breath for this conversation. Lorne knew what he was doing, bringing the boy in, didn't he? Bastard. One who's right though, one who can see right through us, even if we don't sing.
"I love you," I whisper, looking Angel directly in his eyes. My hand comes up to brush the back of one finger over the child's face only to have the boy grab on to the moving digit. It makes me smile as I briefly look down. It's still in place when I look up at Angel. "I don't know anything about children or raising them," I mumble, feeling a fear settle over me that a thousand of men and women, parents must've felt before me. "But I want to know, want to learn. With you. If you'll let me, want me too."
Reply
And there goes that chest tightening feeling when Wes so vehemently says that of course he loves me. My chest tightens further and my throat closes, because I know the end of that next sentence even if he doesn't say it. I don't like to think it or hear it, but I know that's how he feels. Sometimes I wish he didn't - because *I* love *him* so much - but he does and it...obviously reduces me to a nearly watery eyed vampire hearing it.
I nod about the panicking, because there's no denying it, that's been my emotion from the second Darla walked in here with that stomach. Connor is quiet in my arms and I have to look down to make sure he's alright, glancing back up only to find Wes *right* there.
I'm so far taken aback that he's just said he loves me in front of Lorne that there are several moments where I just stand there clutching Connor, and staring at Wes. The smile though, the smile at touching my son, our son, and then that smile at me has me snapping out of it and leaning in for a firm, ferociously emotional kiss, while trying not to crush Connor. It's not an endlessly long kiss, but I pour everything I've got into that kiss. "I want to learn with you, I want you with me, with us, I was so-" I choke off the rest of that because it sounds so foolish. I was so scared. So scared you wouldn't want this, because there's no way I can do this on my own. I would if it came down to it, but I would be terrified every step of the way.
My hand cradles Wes' cheek. "I want him to have your name. Wesley." I blink at Wes, thinking I might be feeling definitely a little allergic, too. "Connor Wesley Wyndam-Pryce," I say firmly. "I want us to be a family," I say in a whisper, not quite grasping what I'm saying, but letting it all tumble out anyway. There's a tiny little warm body squirming in my arms and he deserves a family. A real one. "What do you think?"
Reply
Are we back to square one when it comes to those words? I still vividly remember the first time I said them to him. He reacted in a way I hadn't expected. Almost angry at me for saying them. And now? Now he can't say them again. Why? Why can't he say he loves me too? Especial now when it's so important, when our future isn't just about us anymore?
Which is what I'm still thinking when there are suddenly some very cool lips crushing mine with a force hard enough to bruise. I'm left breathless and blinking at him stupidly when he finally - unfortunately - has to end the kiss. Otherwise I'd be out of breath and we'll end up crushing the poor infant.
Lorne seems to have gone unusually quiet and I see him waving some cloth around from the corner or my eyes. I myself have dropped my eyes away from Angel's face so he can't read in mine how much it hurt to *not* hear him say he loves me back, despite the desperate kiss. Instead I look down at the boy, happily gurgling away, unaware of all the things going on around him. Somehow this tiny child manages to make me smile again though.
Connor. Connor? That's a-- very Irish name I guess. It's then that I notice the rest of the names the poor lad got tacked on. Wesley. He's going to name him after-- after me? Dammit, there are those allergies again. And sniffing to boot. Bloody hell, I'm so glad Cordelia's not around.
Wait a moment. I'm not the one sniffling. Lorne is! I glance at our green demon friend from the corner or my eyes - one who has no shame nor the decency to let us have some privacy. No doubt in fear we muck things up again - and raise an eyebrow. Which is when I realize Angel's tossed in my last names there as well.
Oh. Oh that poor child. I recall having to grow up with two last names - lets not even start about how everyone is *always* spelling it wrong - and it not something I wish for the boy to go through. For Connor. His name is Connor.
Then I'm wondering what's wrong with Angel's own last name, since Connor *is* his son. Of course there's never any mention of Angel's last name and I doubt he even remembers. Angel I mean, though you think one would. But after over two hundred and nearly fifty years? He might've forgotten, or maybe he wants to forget?
"I think," I whisper, watching as Connor is still playing with my finger, a soft, tender smile playing my lips, "that you're condemning the poor boy to a horrid future with a name like that." I look up, already expecting the disappointed shocked look in Angel's eyes. "May I suggest dropping the 'Wyndam'? It's very British, which Connor really isn't. Connor Wesley Pryce is really a very handsome name."
"Oh," Lorne blurts dramatically waving his handkerchief, "This is to cute, you two are killing me here. But we really need to think about some serious business here for the cookie and for you two cream-puff. Mostly Angel since he's paperless?" And this is followed by a significant look as though either of us has any idea what he's talking about.
Reply
So if my face falls a little when he says the name would be a bad idea, who could blame me for thinking that I've screwed everything up once again. He's doing that cute smile though, so there's still a little bit of hope in me that he actually likes the idea. I don't think there's anyone else's name he could have anyway. I certainly don't have a last name these days.
I've been a demon much, much longer than I've been a human, and as much as I'd hate to admit it, I'm more like Angelus than I am like 'Liam' anymore, he's still in me, but... I'm not that man, and I don't want Connor to have his family name. The things I did to that family... I don't want him to have that connection. I do want to remember where we came from, but not that family, not who I was. The person I was then would never have been able to take care of this boy, would have gotten Father to pay Darla off to go have the child alone in a nunnery or somewhere. I don't want to think about that part of myself when I look at my son.
So I nod agreeably and feel time start to go forward again when Wes suggests giving Connor only part of his name. "Very handsome," I murmur in agreement wondering when Lorne will go away so that I can ease those shadows hiding in Wes' eyes. There's a loud bleat of a nose being blown and I realize, no, Lorne is not going away any time soon.
"What?" I look at Lorne in confusion and with daggers when he pipes up with some nonsense about papers? "I don't need papers," I say looking at Lorne still confused, still staying the the tangled knot of Wes, Connor and I. "Can't it wait?" I ask, really wanting a second to talk to Wes alone. He's still fretting about me not saying I love him back, I can just feel it.
Reply
I frown at those words, glancing down at Connor worried. Lorne has a point. Wolfram and Hart knows what's going on at all times it seems. The moment they get wind of Connor and who his parents are? The child wont be safe from them. And what would be easier then having the child legally taken away due to the lack of papers? Papers which will show that Connor is Angel's son and Angel's a legal citizen.
Alright, the latter is sort of a lie, since he's *legally* dead.
I repeat Lorne's sigh, realizing that the rest of any problems will have to wait. From now on they will all have to wait. Connor will come first. Not just for me, I already know that is the case for Angel. It's just that neither of us is used to being around children, let alone be responsible for one. And legally making Connor Angel's is the first step to providing the boy's safety.
"He's right, Angel," I say, tugging on the finger Connor's still clutching. And apparently not about to let go. As though he's afraid I'm going to walk away or some such. "We need papers proving that Connor is your son. Which means you're going to have a last name as well. Err...one that is the same as Connor's so you might want to re-think about the 'Pryce'?" Not that I want him to. I *like* Connor Wesley Pryce.
"Unless you two get married," Lorne blubbers out. Apparently he gets two very shocked looks at those words aimed at him because he holds up his hands and rolls his eyes. "Joking, joking. Geeze crumbcakes, tone down on the panic. But hey, Angel Pryce? Not so bad? Huh? Huh?"
Reply
Married? The shock quickly turns to annoyance at Lorne and if I was shooting daggers at him before, I'm shooting a death glare at him now. That is not- Wes isn't ready. He hasn't even given me his mark yet, how's he going to be ready for some big ceremony and me taking his name *and* a baby? I was- That was *my* subject to bring up.
This is just- It's too much and I'm starting to get antsy. Antsy in a bad way like I want everybody out of the room except me and Connor. Can't they just let me be with my son for a second? Does this all have to be decided right now?
"Angel Pryce sounds fine, but- and I want Connor to have your name, Wes, but-"
"Great, Angelcakes, then that's settled!"
"No, I-" I suck in a breath of frustration. "Lorne can we have a minute?" This is all going just a little too fast. I look down at the little bundle in my arms and the way he's clinging to Wes. Smart boy. Already knows who needs to be held onto in the room. Anchored.
"If he's Wes' son, then he'll legally be his son. Wes should be his legal guardian. I don't even exist. I can't-" I shake my head at them. We'd have to get too many fake documents, and I really, really shouldn't be on paper. That could end up being more dangerous for Connor. Me in the system. What if someone finds out what I am? This is why I don't live in the world. I'm a part of the dark, and my son is not going to worry about that. "It's better for Connor that way," I murmur. It doesn't matter if the law says he's mine. I'll know. Connor will understand.
My hand clutches Wes' arm too, and I look at him unflinchingly. "I want us together." My eyes flick to the teary Lorne and back to Wes. "But I don't want us to rush this." And I don't want to get rushed into it because Lorne thinks it's adorable. And I want some goddamn privacy so that I can stop screwing up with Wes who is just going to hear rejection, isn't he?
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment