I smile as Wes muses about the name. If I didn't know that he was so worn out, I might think that he was about to go into lecture mode on the implications of having two last names in Los Angeles versus in England. He probably will someday. And I won't mind then either.
His shocked look doesn't surprise me either when I offer Connor's last name for him to choose. I'm not trying to make it a trap. IF he doesn't want it to be his last name, that's fine. If his on the piece of paper then he's the father. The names never had to match, last time I checked. Kind of tradition, because how else did you claim a child as your own way back in the old days. It's not like they had paternity tests back then. I also don't want to feel like he's saddled this kid with a name he might have grown up with, but one that he ultimately doesn't like the implications of. Maybe it's a good thing for him to wrestle with this though. It's not as though there's gonig to be a good time for him to deal with his family issues.
And now I'm the one thinking too much.
I smile at his sleepy face, and let my eyes close with a soft sigh when he kisses my forehead and runs those long, deft fingers through my hair. My eyes open again and there's the soft blue gaze that I love so much. "Okay. You go ahead." I murmur, running a hand along his arm just to touch him a little more. I get the feel we're not going to have time for little moments like this in the future. "I'm just going to run downstairs for some blood. Won't be a minute" I say, not mentioning the presents. Wes will probably be asleep by the time I get back up here so he won't really get to appreciate the presents, but maybe I can give them to him in the morning...if we have a minute.
Wow, our lives are really never going to be the same, are they?
Oh! Blood! Dammit, I'd forgotten about that. I'm sure with all that's been happening Angel will need some blood. Not sure why I'd think that, since I really don't feel like eating. But I'm not a vampire and Angel is. It works differently with him I think. At any other given time I'd have asked, written it down and be fascinated by it no doubt. Right now though? All I really want is to sleep.
"Alright," I murmur, having to hide another yawn behind my hand. A last kiss gets put on the tip of his nose before I turn around and stumble out of the room. As talks went - and ours in specifically - that one went pretty well. Lorne didn't even have to mediate once, he must be so proud. He certainly looks like it when I walk into the room.
"All done, cream-puff?" he asked in a hushed voice.
My eyes dart to the bed to check on Connor right away, surprising myself with that move. Looks like the boy is still sleeping. Hands balled into little fists, barely peeking out from under the far to large blankets covering him. "I don't think we'll ever be done, Lorne," I sigh, thinking that with a child around there will always be *something.*
Lorne just rolls his eyes and waves his hand at me. "Fine, fine, be that way. Okay, since my sleep got interrupted, I'm gonna go grab a room here. There's plenty around." He has to hide a yawn behind a hand as well when he says that.
And I feel instantly guilty for having dragged him out here in the middle of the night. In a panic. About a child. Not just any child, but it comes down to the fact that Angel and I couldn't handle a child. I'm not sure what to think of the relief I feel when Lorne says he'll stay for the night. I don't know anything about children, but he seems to.
"That's fine," I nod, as if I have any say in the matter. But I doubt Angel would actually mind. "And-- thank you so much. For-- well for everything."
Lorne smiles at me and then at the little boy. "Don't worry 'bout it, Muffin. Things are gonna be very different with the little cookie around. But I'm thinking a whole hell of a lot happier. Now, you're about to keel over, so get some sleep."
Another nod as I blink at him sleepily. "Uhm--" The bed gets a doubtful glance and I wonder if I shouldn't find another place to sleep. What if I turn around and crush the boy?
"Not gonna happen," Lorne assures me, revealing his hidden talent to read minds. Or just the expression on my face perhaps. "Trust me on that. You're already so tuned into the boy, not gonna happen. Besides, the pillows will stop ya, now go to bed. I know I am."
And with that he trudges out the room, leaving me alone with Connor. The boy gets another look darted at him, to make sure he's fine while I rush into the bathroom for a second to get changed. Under a few seconds I emerge again, wearing my pajama's and slide into my side of the bed. I lean on my elbow and carefully reach out with my other hand, a long finger tracing Connor's features.
So small, so vulnerable, so fragile and so helpless. The weight of the responsibility doesn't seem to have hit full force yet, but I've no doubt it will soon enough. But Lorne is right, I think as I lay down and automatically put my hand over Connor's heart - instead of his father's this time -. My eyes flutter closed and I'm already halfway into the land of dozing off.
I smile at the kiss to my nose. Absolutely adorable. Getting up after him, I watch as he plods sleepily back to our suite while I head for the stairs. I'm a little surprised he didn't fall asleep with Connor, but there was so much newness, I can understand how a little fatigue might go unnoticed.
Smiling to myself, I trot downstairs, seeing the bags next to the stairs almost immediately. Right where I tossed them. When Darla came. I don't think I'll be looking at this lobby the same way again any time soon. I can still see her glare, the confident, stubborn tilt of her chin. Like she was going to take on the world and it was going to bow whether it wanted to or not. A piece of work that woman. Demon. We got along well. As demons. I'm sure we would have been infamous the world over if it hadn't been for the soul. The world would be a very different place if she hadn't been arrogant enough to mess with gypsies.
I wonder if our son will have that arrogance, that confidence, while staring into the space of the lobby. I wonder if he'll have her hair, he's certainly got her eyes. Not the cold calculating part though, that will always be distinctly Darla. It's not- It's not that I miss her, but... Some part of me wishes I could have been the one to stake her, gotten the chance to choose how she went, gotten to say good-bye even.
It's not worth it, but there's a little part of me that would have liked more closure. If Wes hadn't had his accident, we wouldn't have Connor, that I'm sure of. I shake my head at myself and gather the shopping bags before going to heat up some blood. I don't linger with it since I've already lingered long enough over a ghost.
Hiking back up the stairs, I note that the door across from ours is closed. Looks like Lorne's staying over. Should probably have him check on Fred tomorrow. Pushing open our door, I see Wes is already in bed and half asleep if not all the way. Good thing I didn't tell him to wait up.
Oh. That- His hand... I- My eyes cloud a little with liquid at the sight. Yeah, he's going to be an incredible dad. He's incredible already. I watch them quietly for several moments before pushing the door to behind me and setting aside the bags. Slipping into my pajama bottoms, I smoothly slide into bed, moving Wes' hand to twine mine with his below Connor. "Good night, my boys," I murmur in the darkness, listening to the tiny body breathing between us.
There's fussing. Not the usual tossing and turning that'll shake the bed. No it's subtle and small but still-- there's fussing. And a heartbeat that's not mine. I keep my eyes closed, feeling as though I barely had a few minutes of sleep. I don't know what time it is, nor do I want to know. Instead I focus on the heartbeat under my hand. There's a heartbeat under my hand. That's-- strange.
The luke warm hand in my own is less strange. That I know to be Angel right away. I'm still puzzled by the heartbeat. And the fact that my hand isn't feeling luke warm where it's pressing over that apparent heartbeat. Would it have been demonic, or some ancient text I would have figured it out in one second flat. Maybe. But it takes me a full minute to realize there's a baby in bed with us.
Angel's son. Connor. Alive, and breathing, and warm and having a heartbeat. Human. And fussing. That makes me pry my eyes open. Leaning up on an elbow, I blearily glance down at the boy. Two tiny blue eyes stare back, framed in a face that's in the begin stages of a full blown crying tantrum. It's almost as though Connor's trying to figure out how to do that. Being just born, I imagine he doesn't yet know the full baby handbook on tantrums.
I gently untangle my hand from Angel's and put it back on Connor's stomach. Then I reach up and carefully cup the boys face. "What's wrong, little one?" I wonder, my mind already working itself into a small frenzy. There could be several things wrong. He could be hungry, he could be in pain, he could be-- He's not in pain is he? I lean in close and wrinkle my nose at the smell greeting me.
No. I don't think he's in pain. Smells as though someone has been doing business as usual. Poor child. "It would seem you're in dire need of some cleaning hmm?" I say, feeling a bit silly for talking when Connor wont understand a thing or reply. But he's still looking at me, tantrum almost forgotten it seems and I could almost swear he was smiling.
"Should we wake up your father for that?" I joke, glancing over at Angel. "Probably needs his sleep." Removing Angel's hand, I carefully scoop up Connor and slip out of bed with a large yawn. "Come on the, little fellow, lets get you cleaned up." What time is it anyway? Can't have been sleeping more then an hour or two.
Huh. I didn't even notice I fell asleep. The bed shifts though, and I hear some quiet, repetitive noises next to me, like Wes having a bad dream. I scoot instinctively closer, ready to prod myself up and comfort more fully, but then the noise stops and I relax somewhat. I rub my face against the pillow and curl in closer- Oh, there's talking. What's with the talking? Wes doesn't usually talk. Does he?
Gradually, I blink open my eyes, enough so that I can see Wes and Connor moving towards the bathroom, Wes making soft sounds that are probably words, but I'm not quite awake enough to make them out. Why is Wes waking up Connor? Don't babies need their sleep? Well, I doubt Wes would do it without some kind of reason- Oh. Oh, that's why. Wow. Babies sure do know how to make their mark on a place. Not that he's gotten the sheets wet or anything, but wow. That is not a smell I'm used to waking up to.
Wes might need help, I think, although, if memory serves, he was the one to get the diaper on the kid in the first place. I should go though. Stumbling out of bed I rub my eyes and pad toward the sounds of my son and my Wes.
"Need a hand?" I mumble, standing in the doorway and yawning, eyes half closed as it is. Connor's smiling though, that I can tell. "He likes you," I murmur. "Smart boy," I add sleepily. Yeah, Connor, good idea, make friends with the smart guy. He'll know what to do for you. Might be your dad, but I'm not exactly...Wes.
It's not until I stumble into the bathroom and switch on the light - which causes both Connor and I to blink several times - that I realize a few things. One is that I must know this apartment blindly by now to walk over here in complete darkness. The second is that Lorne did indeed put the diapers here, which my subconscious must've figured out. I wonder if we should get Connor his own room, and then have a chancing table there.
I grab a soft, big fluffy towel while I ponder that, but realize that Angel's not going to want Connor to be too far away from him. So another room probably wont work. Unless we use the room right next to Angel's, make a connecting door, if there isn't one already and-- Right. Let's focus on the job here. We can worry about things like that later.
After Connor is cleaned up and I've had more sleep.
Putting Connor down on the towel, I keep one hand on his chest while the other one tries to grab the things I need. "I'm going to need another pair of hands," I mumble at the boy when I realize the diaper bag is just out of reach. "Or a corner around the counter so you wont roll off, huh little one?" I ask, tickling my fingers lightly over his stomach. As if he'd actually reply, though the small giggling sound he makes is to cute for words.
It makes me smile down at the boy broadly while I try to grab the diaper things with my feet. Which is about the time Angel stumbles in, looking as adorable as his son, all sleep mussed. "If you could give me the bag with things," I ask, giving Connor a dubious look after Angel states that he likes me. "I'm sure he's very smart," I agree, not at all certain about the him liking me part. Maybe he'd smile at anyone taking care of his needs, you never know.
I nod sleepily when Wes asks me to hand him the bag, stepping into the bathroom, and not only seeing Connor smile, but hearing a little gurgling that can only be identified as a giggle. Oh good. Someone to enjoy Wes's sense of humor. He really doesn't have enough people who do. I pull out some of the baby things and set them out for Wes while he holds onto Connor.
It's cute the way Wes smiles right back at Connor. I doubt he even realizes he's doing it. Looks like the new baby is winning us all over slowly but surely. Not that he really had to try hard. I think one look and we were all right there ready to protect and take care of him. I wonder what Buffy will think. I wonder what she'd be like as a mother. She'd need someone to keep her grounded. The way she was with Dawn, it made me wonder sometimes what she'd be like with a kid of her own. I think I'd like to see that. See her happy with a family. Like mine.
God, Cordy is going to freak out. Gunn...will probably be amused and try to teach him to hold a broadsword right away. Heh. It'll be interesting having a baby around here, that's for sure.
"Very smart," I agree with Wes, watching what he does so that I'll be able to do this next time. Not that my nose is really looking forward to it, but I'm betting neither of us is going to want to do it no matter whose nose is involved. "You made him give his first laugh," I murmur, smiling at the two of them. See, totally likes Wes.
Once the bag is within reach it's easier to get things done one handed. Still, it would be more useful if we'd get one of those commode's where the things we need are even more within reach. Also safer for the child, wont be able to roll of that quickly. God, we're going to need so many bloody things.
I grab a diaper, the bottle of powder things, the-- arse wipes, for lack of a better word. One I have those, I'm able to do this a little beter. Its a lot harder then the first time I did this, since the diaper is now-- well, full. Still, it's almost routine, the actions done automatically.
"Hmmm? I did?" Confused I glance at Connor, who seems to be far happier, if not once again sleepier now that he's clean. I made him laugh? He didn't do that before? I think he did, but it's not as though I was paying attention to that perse. I'm betting Lorne beat us both to the laughing thing, considering he's-- Lorne. Remarkably good with babies too he was. Is.
"I'm sure he's done it before," I murmur, putting Connor's pajama's back on. Picking him up I hold him close to my chest and wonder if we should feed him again. I'm not sure about that, since he looked rather sleepy. "Do you think we need to fetch him a bottle again?" I ask Angel, somewhat unsure as I move over to hand Connor to his father.
Hmm. I try to think back. Okay, so most of it is clouded with Wes and our lack of communication, but I'm pretty sure.... "Don't think so," I murmur back, still feeling a cloud of sleep around us. "It's pretty cute when he laughs though, isn't it?" I say looking at Connor like- like the adoring parent I'm already turning into.
Kind of a proud...partner too. Wes just goes through the motions as if they're old habit. Gets his pajamas back on like they were never off. Wes really is going to be good at this baby stuff. And man, this is a weird thought, but he picks up Connor and I don't think he could look much sexier. I guess it's true what they say about guys and kids. This could just be the ramblings of a sleepy brain though. It's pretty adorable if nothing else. Sleepy Connor with a sleepy Wes.
"Hmm?" I blink, reaching out automatically as I see Wes handing Connor over to me. "Oh." If I thought I had to be careful with my friends and employees, being careful with my own child is even more difficult. But Connor just kind of fits in my arms, and as long as I don't think about being able to crush him, we should be okay. He certainly smells nice now.
"Uhh. Maybe? He'll probably wake up wanting one soon anyway?" I suggest, not really knowing the right answer here. Though, if we give him a bottle, we'll be up changing him again soon too. So, I guess it doesn't matter what we do. As long as he stays awake long enough to drink that milk formula stuff...
Man, why don't babies come with flashing signs or a manual or something?
The look of sleepy confusion on his face when I hand him Connor is utterly adorable. It makes a smile slip on my face. One I suppose is equally as tired, though far less adorable. If not at all. He looks so... normal when he holds his son. Almost human if you will. Anyone not knowing what Angel is would never have guessed there is a demon lurking inside him. The way he looks at his son with some much love is almost painful.
It's a painful stab home. This is the way a father should look at a child. This is the way no one ever looked at me. None of my parents. Not my mum, not even my grandmum. Don't get me wrong, she was the only one to love me. But she wasn't my mother so she'd never have the look Angel is having now. There's a joy I've never known filling my heart with the knowledge that if anything, Connor at least has that.
"You think? Hmmm..." I let my mind drift away from the past where it shouldn't be in the first place and focus on the present. I guess Angel has a point, he'd wake up crying for some milk soon at any rate. I think. I don't know, I must read up on this very soon. Maybe once we've fed Connor, put him to bed and have Angel tucked in again I could go to the library and see what I've got on child rearing books. Babies to begin with of course.
"Why don't you go sit on the bed, I'll go get a bottle," I murmur around a yawn getting out. Pressing a hand in front of my mouth automatically to hide it, I slink past Angel, unable to lean in to kiss his cheek, and pad toward the kitchen. Which is when I'm reminded that the damn things for Connor's bottle are in the downstairs kitchen for some reason. I'd better bring some up, I'd hate for us to go down there every night.
"I'll be right back. I left it downstairs," I mumble, glancing around for my slippers and robe. My glasses would probably be useful too.
I start to get worried when Wes doesn't agree with me right away, since it's not like I know what I'm doing but he...seems to think better of it? and says he'll get the bottle. Oh, that's good. I wouldn't know what I was doing if I had to get one. He'll have to show me when it's not the middle of the night and we're both half asleep. I'm so amazed how well he seems to be taking to this. Like he's trying to- Like he's trying to prove himself? Like he's trying to prove that he can do at least this for me now. Is that what he thinks? He's turned his faithful servant vow in another direction now that- now that Connor's here? To replace him.
Stopping. Stopping that thought process right there. This is how all this miscommunication starts. My imagination runs wild and there are just too many thoughts. It's late, there's a brand new baby here, who knows what kinds of thoughts are running through my head, and here they are coming up with this. There's no way I'm saying anything about this. Not a peep. It's just me being crazy and sleepy, I'm absolutely sure of it.
Shaking my head at myself, I follow Wes out of the bathroom, a little smile flickering across my face when he kisses my cheek. "Okay," I murmur, heading for the bed, thinking that might actually be a bad idea in case I start to doze off. I won't be sitting there long, and Wes'll be back with the bottle in another minute or two, I justify to my sleepy brain.
Connor's about half asleep again, as we sit, little eyes half closed while I'm being so careful to hold his head up for him. Tiny little heartbeat in my arms feels so amazing. And that baby smell, he smells...soft. I don't know how one can smell soft, but he does. Like he's projecting an image that he has to be taken very special care of. "Hmm?" I glance up seeing Wes looking blearily around the room. Not going downstairs like he said he was. "We can come with you," I offer. "Wouldn't want either of us to fall asleep before you get back," I add, giving him a soft, sleepy smile. I don't know how Wes could ever think Connor's replaced him.
Where are my glasses? I keep - Or Angel keeps I should say - putting them on the most inconvenient places lately that I find myself looking for them everywhere. Which is why I almost want to slap myself when I notice them on the nightstand. Where they should be. Where I no doubt put them myself when I went to bed. Sometimes I'm such an idiot. Sighing inwardly at my own stupidity I pad over to the nightstand and slip them on.
When I turn to look at Angel I can't help but smile softly. Unwillingly my mind goes back to my own childhood and wonder, if only briefly, if my father has ever looked at me like that. With so much love, and pride and hope. Maybe when I was born? I doubt it though, the only reason I was born was because my parents felt an obligation to breed more watchers. It was a stroke of good fortune on their part that it was a boy right away, so they wouldn't have to breed any further.
It's painfully obvious they never really wanted a child. Neither of them. Angel though, Angel has been given a child so unexpected it would have most people reeling. It certainly has me reeling and still trying to come to terms with it. And yet he's looking at the boy with eyes that are filled with so much love and awe it aches my heart.
"What?" It's a good thing he's tearing my out of my thoughts. There haven't been a whole hell of a lot of *good* thoughts lately. More depressing and miserable thoughts. I hate those. But I'll do better from now on. Angel deserves it. Connor deserves it. "Oh no, I can get it. You just stay here and-and make sure Connor doesn't fall asleep.
There's a smile on his face though, one which demands a reply automatically. So it's not a complete surprise when there's a small smile sliding on my own face. I look at him for several seconds before turning around and heading toward the downstairs kitchen.
Once there I gather several of the bottles and the formula to bring upstairs. My mind is already going over several possibilities about making more then one bottle so Angel doesn't have to bother. Then he can just grab a bottle and put it in the microwave and that'll safe a lot of time and-- I'm thinking to much again, I realize as I open the door to their - our - bedroom, returning with the needs and supplies to make Connor's food.
"And here we are," I murmur, completely un-needed since that was pretty much obvious.
"Okay," I murmur, slightly worried at being left alone with Connor - with my own son - but Wes is already walking out the door. Lorne is around somewhere. I'm sure he'd coming running if something happened.
Connor and I get comfortable on the bed, me carefully holding him in my arms and him fluttering his eyelashes. "Hey, big guy, not sleepytime yet. You gotta stay awake. Just a little while. Wes'll be back with your bottle soon. Can't have you getting hungry on us. No we can't," I say in a stream of soft words. Kinda talking to keep him awake, but also to keep myself awake.
"You're going to be a great kid, aren't you? You're gonna have two great dads, two uncles and two aunts and probably some other people along the way. No mom, but I don't think you'll mind when you find out what she was like. Pretty controlling, I bet you wouldn't have liked her anyway," I half-heartedly joke with him around a yawn. Connor just stares back me, slightly more alert now. I guess it's going to take time for him to get used to our different voices since we weren't around while Darla was carrying him. I'm sure he'll have us figured out in no time.
"Hey, you," I murmur with a sleepy smile when Wes comes back. "We missed you," I tell him like the big dork I've become. Or am. I think Cordy would say I was always a dork. But that's just her opinion. Connor and I wait for Wes to mix up a bottle - I note that he's brought more than one with him for future feedings of which we'll probably have to prepare for even more - and get into a comfortable position for this feeding stuff. Hmm. I try to remember what Wes was doing when he fed Connor earlier, but I was a little focused on being upset, I think.
A smile slips out at those words and I wonder why they sound different now then the many times he's said them before. Perhaps because it's 'we' instead of the usual 'I'. There's a brief wonder if from now on it'll always be 'we' for Angel, meaning Connor and him, instead of 'I'. Then there's a darker side of me if 'we' will ever mean Angel and I.
I push it aside quickly, hoping these sort of doubts are all just part of this phase we're going to have to go through. The part were we're all going to have to get used to the fact that there now is a child here. Angel's son. His *actual* son. The son of two vampires and my mind still cannot wrap around that. Fingers itching to hunt down books and research this. Now.
There are other important things though. Such as feeding a child that might go hungry, even though Connor looks rather sleepy instead of hungry. I've no idea if we're doing anything right, but we're doing the best we can. There's a child at stake. *Your* best is not going to be good enough.
"I'll be right over," I murmur, walking to the small kitchen and depositing the things there. I quickly make one bottle, put it in the microwave to warm up and start with another batch. Then al Angel - we - have to do is put it in the microwave. It would make things simpler-- Oh.
Said microwave dings making me abandon my work for now. Taking out the bottle I make sure it's not to hot before padding over to Angel while shaking it. I've no idea why I'm shaking it, seems like the thing to do. Strange. "Here we go," I murmur, handing the bottle to Angel, "let me get you a towel for...uh... later."
I nod to Wes before he heads to the kitchen. My eyes follow after him, watching him proudly. He's come such a long way, I realize even in my sleepy state. Such a long way. I don't think the Wesley I stumbled on covered in leather would have handled this as well as Wesley has now. I think we still need to make sure we get some regular alone time though. I get the feeling that all sorts of feelings are going to crop up and were both going to need some reassuring on a regular basis. But right now...we seem okay, I think as I listen to him move around in the kitchen.
"Hungry yet, kiddo?" I ask Connor quietly, running a finger over his little cheek and chin. I get a sleepy look for my troubles and a yawn. Not smiling around this kid is going to be impossible. He's too cute. Just like Wes.
"Hmm, thanks," I say giving Wes a smile when he returns and hands the bottle to me. Okay, uhh, bottle. Baby. They go together, right? Hey, why is he fussing? I look where Connor's looking and- Oh. Duh. The little guy already understands that's where the food comes from, huh? I think he'd be grabbing it out of my hands if he could. Carefully, I bring the bottle to his mouth and Connor knows just what to do. I blink and watch him happily drink away. Wow.
"Hmm?" I glance up, realizing belatedly that Wes said something...about a towel? Oh, right. "Thanks," I say, noting that I would not have thought of that until too late even though I saw it happen with Wes earlier. Wow, there's just so much we're going to have to get used to.
He's so very much not here with me, already to involved in anything Connor related. Not that I can blame him. If I had a child, son or daughter doesn't really matter, then I'd be so wrapped up in that I would barely have time for anything else. I guess. Not that I'd know, because that's never going to happen. It would have been an experience, having a little boy or girl of my own... and those are thoughts I am not going to be having.
Instead I watch Angel and his boy. The wide eyed look he gets when for a moment he doesn't know what to do. Angel I mean, not sure if Connor will have that same look. Could be, wouldn't actually surprise me. But that smile, I'm mesmerized by that smile on Angel's face. I've never seen that particular smile ever and I'm guessing that's Connor's smile. Not guessing, I know it is.
I watch them a moment longer, realizing that if I do get a reply it'll be one he doesn't even really know he's giving. And that reminds me so much of myself - only I have it with books - that it makes me smile softly. Shaking my head I turn back on the balls of my feet to grab a small towel from the kitchen. Doesn't take me long to get back to Angel and put it on his shoulder.
Doubt he even noticed that, I think to myself as I pad back to the kitchen. Right then, lets make some more food for Connor. It almost as easy as with Angel's food. Except for the part where I have to mix Connor's food, it's pretty much of the 'put it in the microwave to heat and be done' variety.
Like father like son, and doesn't that thought make me chuckle. "Need anything else?" I call out as I make some more bottles for Connor. "Need something to eat yourself perhaps?"
His shocked look doesn't surprise me either when I offer Connor's last name for him to choose. I'm not trying to make it a trap. IF he doesn't want it to be his last name, that's fine. If his on the piece of paper then he's the father. The names never had to match, last time I checked. Kind of tradition, because how else did you claim a child as your own way back in the old days. It's not like they had paternity tests back then. I also don't want to feel like he's saddled this kid with a name he might have grown up with, but one that he ultimately doesn't like the implications of. Maybe it's a good thing for him to wrestle with this though. It's not as though there's gonig to be a good time for him to deal with his family issues.
And now I'm the one thinking too much.
I smile at his sleepy face, and let my eyes close with a soft sigh when he kisses my forehead and runs those long, deft fingers through my hair. My eyes open again and there's the soft blue gaze that I love so much. "Okay. You go ahead." I murmur, running a hand along his arm just to touch him a little more. I get the feel we're not going to have time for little moments like this in the future. "I'm just going to run downstairs for some blood. Won't be a minute" I say, not mentioning the presents. Wes will probably be asleep by the time I get back up here so he won't really get to appreciate the presents, but maybe I can give them to him in the morning...if we have a minute.
Wow, our lives are really never going to be the same, are they?
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"Alright," I murmur, having to hide another yawn behind my hand. A last kiss gets put on the tip of his nose before I turn around and stumble out of the room. As talks went - and ours in specifically - that one went pretty well. Lorne didn't even have to mediate once, he must be so proud. He certainly looks like it when I walk into the room.
"All done, cream-puff?" he asked in a hushed voice.
My eyes dart to the bed to check on Connor right away, surprising myself with that move. Looks like the boy is still sleeping. Hands balled into little fists, barely peeking out from under the far to large blankets covering him. "I don't think we'll ever be done, Lorne," I sigh, thinking that with a child around there will always be *something.*
Lorne just rolls his eyes and waves his hand at me. "Fine, fine, be that way. Okay, since my sleep got interrupted, I'm gonna go grab a room here. There's plenty around." He has to hide a yawn behind a hand as well when he says that.
And I feel instantly guilty for having dragged him out here in the middle of the night. In a panic. About a child. Not just any child, but it comes down to the fact that Angel and I couldn't handle a child. I'm not sure what to think of the relief I feel when Lorne says he'll stay for the night. I don't know anything about children, but he seems to.
"That's fine," I nod, as if I have any say in the matter. But I doubt Angel would actually mind. "And-- thank you so much. For-- well for everything."
Lorne smiles at me and then at the little boy. "Don't worry 'bout it, Muffin. Things are gonna be very different with the little cookie around. But I'm thinking a whole hell of a lot happier. Now, you're about to keel over, so get some sleep."
Another nod as I blink at him sleepily. "Uhm--" The bed gets a doubtful glance and I wonder if I shouldn't find another place to sleep. What if I turn around and crush the boy?
"Not gonna happen," Lorne assures me, revealing his hidden talent to read minds. Or just the expression on my face perhaps. "Trust me on that. You're already so tuned into the boy, not gonna happen. Besides, the pillows will stop ya, now go to bed. I know I am."
And with that he trudges out the room, leaving me alone with Connor. The boy gets another look darted at him, to make sure he's fine while I rush into the bathroom for a second to get changed. Under a few seconds I emerge again, wearing my pajama's and slide into my side of the bed. I lean on my elbow and carefully reach out with my other hand, a long finger tracing Connor's features.
So small, so vulnerable, so fragile and so helpless. The weight of the responsibility doesn't seem to have hit full force yet, but I've no doubt it will soon enough. But Lorne is right, I think as I lay down and automatically put my hand over Connor's heart - instead of his father's this time -. My eyes flutter closed and I'm already halfway into the land of dozing off.
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Smiling to myself, I trot downstairs, seeing the bags next to the stairs almost immediately. Right where I tossed them. When Darla came. I don't think I'll be looking at this lobby the same way again any time soon. I can still see her glare, the confident, stubborn tilt of her chin. Like she was going to take on the world and it was going to bow whether it wanted to or not. A piece of work that woman. Demon. We got along well. As demons. I'm sure we would have been infamous the world over if it hadn't been for the soul. The world would be a very different place if she hadn't been arrogant enough to mess with gypsies.
I wonder if our son will have that arrogance, that confidence, while staring into the space of the lobby. I wonder if he'll have her hair, he's certainly got her eyes. Not the cold calculating part though, that will always be distinctly Darla. It's not- It's not that I miss her, but... Some part of me wishes I could have been the one to stake her, gotten the chance to choose how she went, gotten to say good-bye even.
It's not worth it, but there's a little part of me that would have liked more closure. If Wes hadn't had his accident, we wouldn't have Connor, that I'm sure of. I shake my head at myself and gather the shopping bags before going to heat up some blood. I don't linger with it since I've already lingered long enough over a ghost.
Hiking back up the stairs, I note that the door across from ours is closed. Looks like Lorne's staying over. Should probably have him check on Fred tomorrow. Pushing open our door, I see Wes is already in bed and half asleep if not all the way. Good thing I didn't tell him to wait up.
Oh. That- His hand... I- My eyes cloud a little with liquid at the sight. Yeah, he's going to be an incredible dad. He's incredible already. I watch them quietly for several moments before pushing the door to behind me and setting aside the bags. Slipping into my pajama bottoms, I smoothly slide into bed, moving Wes' hand to twine mine with his below Connor. "Good night, my boys," I murmur in the darkness, listening to the tiny body breathing between us.
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The luke warm hand in my own is less strange. That I know to be Angel right away. I'm still puzzled by the heartbeat. And the fact that my hand isn't feeling luke warm where it's pressing over that apparent heartbeat. Would it have been demonic, or some ancient text I would have figured it out in one second flat. Maybe. But it takes me a full minute to realize there's a baby in bed with us.
Angel's son. Connor. Alive, and breathing, and warm and having a heartbeat. Human. And fussing. That makes me pry my eyes open. Leaning up on an elbow, I blearily glance down at the boy. Two tiny blue eyes stare back, framed in a face that's in the begin stages of a full blown crying tantrum. It's almost as though Connor's trying to figure out how to do that. Being just born, I imagine he doesn't yet know the full baby handbook on tantrums.
I gently untangle my hand from Angel's and put it back on Connor's stomach. Then I reach up and carefully cup the boys face. "What's wrong, little one?" I wonder, my mind already working itself into a small frenzy. There could be several things wrong. He could be hungry, he could be in pain, he could be-- He's not in pain is he? I lean in close and wrinkle my nose at the smell greeting me.
No. I don't think he's in pain. Smells as though someone has been doing business as usual. Poor child. "It would seem you're in dire need of some cleaning hmm?" I say, feeling a bit silly for talking when Connor wont understand a thing or reply. But he's still looking at me, tantrum almost forgotten it seems and I could almost swear he was smiling.
"Should we wake up your father for that?" I joke, glancing over at Angel. "Probably needs his sleep." Removing Angel's hand, I carefully scoop up Connor and slip out of bed with a large yawn. "Come on the, little fellow, lets get you cleaned up." What time is it anyway? Can't have been sleeping more then an hour or two.
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Gradually, I blink open my eyes, enough so that I can see Wes and Connor moving towards the bathroom, Wes making soft sounds that are probably words, but I'm not quite awake enough to make them out. Why is Wes waking up Connor? Don't babies need their sleep? Well, I doubt Wes would do it without some kind of reason- Oh. Oh, that's why. Wow. Babies sure do know how to make their mark on a place. Not that he's gotten the sheets wet or anything, but wow. That is not a smell I'm used to waking up to.
Wes might need help, I think, although, if memory serves, he was the one to get the diaper on the kid in the first place. I should go though. Stumbling out of bed I rub my eyes and pad toward the sounds of my son and my Wes.
"Need a hand?" I mumble, standing in the doorway and yawning, eyes half closed as it is. Connor's smiling though, that I can tell. "He likes you," I murmur. "Smart boy," I add sleepily. Yeah, Connor, good idea, make friends with the smart guy. He'll know what to do for you. Might be your dad, but I'm not exactly...Wes.
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I grab a soft, big fluffy towel while I ponder that, but realize that Angel's not going to want Connor to be too far away from him. So another room probably wont work. Unless we use the room right next to Angel's, make a connecting door, if there isn't one already and-- Right. Let's focus on the job here. We can worry about things like that later.
After Connor is cleaned up and I've had more sleep.
Putting Connor down on the towel, I keep one hand on his chest while the other one tries to grab the things I need. "I'm going to need another pair of hands," I mumble at the boy when I realize the diaper bag is just out of reach. "Or a corner around the counter so you wont roll off, huh little one?" I ask, tickling my fingers lightly over his stomach. As if he'd actually reply, though the small giggling sound he makes is to cute for words.
It makes me smile down at the boy broadly while I try to grab the diaper things with my feet. Which is about the time Angel stumbles in, looking as adorable as his son, all sleep mussed. "If you could give me the bag with things," I ask, giving Connor a dubious look after Angel states that he likes me. "I'm sure he's very smart," I agree, not at all certain about the him liking me part. Maybe he'd smile at anyone taking care of his needs, you never know.
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It's cute the way Wes smiles right back at Connor. I doubt he even realizes he's doing it. Looks like the new baby is winning us all over slowly but surely. Not that he really had to try hard. I think one look and we were all right there ready to protect and take care of him. I wonder what Buffy will think. I wonder what she'd be like as a mother. She'd need someone to keep her grounded. The way she was with Dawn, it made me wonder sometimes what she'd be like with a kid of her own. I think I'd like to see that. See her happy with a family. Like mine.
God, Cordy is going to freak out. Gunn...will probably be amused and try to teach him to hold a broadsword right away. Heh. It'll be interesting having a baby around here, that's for sure.
"Very smart," I agree with Wes, watching what he does so that I'll be able to do this next time. Not that my nose is really looking forward to it, but I'm betting neither of us is going to want to do it no matter whose nose is involved. "You made him give his first laugh," I murmur, smiling at the two of them. See, totally likes Wes.
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I grab a diaper, the bottle of powder things, the-- arse wipes, for lack of a better word. One I have those, I'm able to do this a little beter. Its a lot harder then the first time I did this, since the diaper is now-- well, full. Still, it's almost routine, the actions done automatically.
"Hmmm? I did?" Confused I glance at Connor, who seems to be far happier, if not once again sleepier now that he's clean. I made him laugh? He didn't do that before? I think he did, but it's not as though I was paying attention to that perse. I'm betting Lorne beat us both to the laughing thing, considering he's-- Lorne. Remarkably good with babies too he was. Is.
"I'm sure he's done it before," I murmur, putting Connor's pajama's back on. Picking him up I hold him close to my chest and wonder if we should feed him again. I'm not sure about that, since he looked rather sleepy. "Do you think we need to fetch him a bottle again?" I ask Angel, somewhat unsure as I move over to hand Connor to his father.
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Kind of a proud...partner too. Wes just goes through the motions as if they're old habit. Gets his pajamas back on like they were never off. Wes really is going to be good at this baby stuff. And man, this is a weird thought, but he picks up Connor and I don't think he could look much sexier. I guess it's true what they say about guys and kids. This could just be the ramblings of a sleepy brain though. It's pretty adorable if nothing else. Sleepy Connor with a sleepy Wes.
"Hmm?" I blink, reaching out automatically as I see Wes handing Connor over to me. "Oh." If I thought I had to be careful with my friends and employees, being careful with my own child is even more difficult. But Connor just kind of fits in my arms, and as long as I don't think about being able to crush him, we should be okay. He certainly smells nice now.
"Uhh. Maybe? He'll probably wake up wanting one soon anyway?" I suggest, not really knowing the right answer here. Though, if we give him a bottle, we'll be up changing him again soon too. So, I guess it doesn't matter what we do. As long as he stays awake long enough to drink that milk formula stuff...
Man, why don't babies come with flashing signs or a manual or something?
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It's a painful stab home. This is the way a father should look at a child. This is the way no one ever looked at me. None of my parents. Not my mum, not even my grandmum. Don't get me wrong, she was the only one to love me. But she wasn't my mother so she'd never have the look Angel is having now. There's a joy I've never known filling my heart with the knowledge that if anything, Connor at least has that.
"You think? Hmmm..." I let my mind drift away from the past where it shouldn't be in the first place and focus on the present. I guess Angel has a point, he'd wake up crying for some milk soon at any rate. I think. I don't know, I must read up on this very soon. Maybe once we've fed Connor, put him to bed and have Angel tucked in again I could go to the library and see what I've got on child rearing books. Babies to begin with of course.
"Why don't you go sit on the bed, I'll go get a bottle," I murmur around a yawn getting out. Pressing a hand in front of my mouth automatically to hide it, I slink past Angel, unable to lean in to kiss his cheek, and pad toward the kitchen. Which is when I'm reminded that the damn things for Connor's bottle are in the downstairs kitchen for some reason. I'd better bring some up, I'd hate for us to go down there every night.
"I'll be right back. I left it downstairs," I mumble, glancing around for my slippers and robe. My glasses would probably be useful too.
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Stopping. Stopping that thought process right there. This is how all this miscommunication starts. My imagination runs wild and there are just too many thoughts. It's late, there's a brand new baby here, who knows what kinds of thoughts are running through my head, and here they are coming up with this. There's no way I'm saying anything about this. Not a peep. It's just me being crazy and sleepy, I'm absolutely sure of it.
Shaking my head at myself, I follow Wes out of the bathroom, a little smile flickering across my face when he kisses my cheek. "Okay," I murmur, heading for the bed, thinking that might actually be a bad idea in case I start to doze off. I won't be sitting there long, and Wes'll be back with the bottle in another minute or two, I justify to my sleepy brain.
Connor's about half asleep again, as we sit, little eyes half closed while I'm being so careful to hold his head up for him. Tiny little heartbeat in my arms feels so amazing. And that baby smell, he smells...soft. I don't know how one can smell soft, but he does. Like he's projecting an image that he has to be taken very special care of. "Hmm?" I glance up seeing Wes looking blearily around the room. Not going downstairs like he said he was. "We can come with you," I offer. "Wouldn't want either of us to fall asleep before you get back," I add, giving him a soft, sleepy smile. I don't know how Wes could ever think Connor's replaced him.
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When I turn to look at Angel I can't help but smile softly. Unwillingly my mind goes back to my own childhood and wonder, if only briefly, if my father has ever looked at me like that. With so much love, and pride and hope. Maybe when I was born? I doubt it though, the only reason I was born was because my parents felt an obligation to breed more watchers. It was a stroke of good fortune on their part that it was a boy right away, so they wouldn't have to breed any further.
It's painfully obvious they never really wanted a child. Neither of them. Angel though, Angel has been given a child so unexpected it would have most people reeling. It certainly has me reeling and still trying to come to terms with it. And yet he's looking at the boy with eyes that are filled with so much love and awe it aches my heart.
"What?" It's a good thing he's tearing my out of my thoughts. There haven't been a whole hell of a lot of *good* thoughts lately. More depressing and miserable thoughts. I hate those. But I'll do better from now on. Angel deserves it. Connor deserves it. "Oh no, I can get it. You just stay here and-and make sure Connor doesn't fall asleep.
There's a smile on his face though, one which demands a reply automatically. So it's not a complete surprise when there's a small smile sliding on my own face. I look at him for several seconds before turning around and heading toward the downstairs kitchen.
Once there I gather several of the bottles and the formula to bring upstairs. My mind is already going over several possibilities about making more then one bottle so Angel doesn't have to bother. Then he can just grab a bottle and put it in the microwave and that'll safe a lot of time and-- I'm thinking to much again, I realize as I open the door to their - our - bedroom, returning with the needs and supplies to make Connor's food.
"And here we are," I murmur, completely un-needed since that was pretty much obvious.
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Connor and I get comfortable on the bed, me carefully holding him in my arms and him fluttering his eyelashes. "Hey, big guy, not sleepytime yet. You gotta stay awake. Just a little while. Wes'll be back with your bottle soon. Can't have you getting hungry on us. No we can't," I say in a stream of soft words. Kinda talking to keep him awake, but also to keep myself awake.
"You're going to be a great kid, aren't you? You're gonna have two great dads, two uncles and two aunts and probably some other people along the way. No mom, but I don't think you'll mind when you find out what she was like. Pretty controlling, I bet you wouldn't have liked her anyway," I half-heartedly joke with him around a yawn. Connor just stares back me, slightly more alert now. I guess it's going to take time for him to get used to our different voices since we weren't around while Darla was carrying him. I'm sure he'll have us figured out in no time.
"Hey, you," I murmur with a sleepy smile when Wes comes back. "We missed you," I tell him like the big dork I've become. Or am. I think Cordy would say I was always a dork. But that's just her opinion. Connor and I wait for Wes to mix up a bottle - I note that he's brought more than one with him for future feedings of which we'll probably have to prepare for even more - and get into a comfortable position for this feeding stuff. Hmm. I try to remember what Wes was doing when he fed Connor earlier, but I was a little focused on being upset, I think.
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I push it aside quickly, hoping these sort of doubts are all just part of this phase we're going to have to go through. The part were we're all going to have to get used to the fact that there now is a child here. Angel's son. His *actual* son. The son of two vampires and my mind still cannot wrap around that. Fingers itching to hunt down books and research this. Now.
There are other important things though. Such as feeding a child that might go hungry, even though Connor looks rather sleepy instead of hungry. I've no idea if we're doing anything right, but we're doing the best we can. There's a child at stake. *Your* best is not going to be good enough.
"I'll be right over," I murmur, walking to the small kitchen and depositing the things there. I quickly make one bottle, put it in the microwave to warm up and start with another batch. Then al Angel - we - have to do is put it in the microwave. It would make things simpler-- Oh.
Said microwave dings making me abandon my work for now. Taking out the bottle I make sure it's not to hot before padding over to Angel while shaking it. I've no idea why I'm shaking it, seems like the thing to do. Strange. "Here we go," I murmur, handing the bottle to Angel, "let me get you a towel for...uh... later."
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"Hungry yet, kiddo?" I ask Connor quietly, running a finger over his little cheek and chin. I get a sleepy look for my troubles and a yawn. Not smiling around this kid is going to be impossible. He's too cute. Just like Wes.
"Hmm, thanks," I say giving Wes a smile when he returns and hands the bottle to me. Okay, uhh, bottle. Baby. They go together, right? Hey, why is he fussing? I look where Connor's looking and- Oh. Duh. The little guy already understands that's where the food comes from, huh? I think he'd be grabbing it out of my hands if he could. Carefully, I bring the bottle to his mouth and Connor knows just what to do. I blink and watch him happily drink away. Wow.
"Hmm?" I glance up, realizing belatedly that Wes said something...about a towel? Oh, right. "Thanks," I say, noting that I would not have thought of that until too late even though I saw it happen with Wes earlier. Wow, there's just so much we're going to have to get used to.
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Instead I watch Angel and his boy. The wide eyed look he gets when for a moment he doesn't know what to do. Angel I mean, not sure if Connor will have that same look. Could be, wouldn't actually surprise me. But that smile, I'm mesmerized by that smile on Angel's face. I've never seen that particular smile ever and I'm guessing that's Connor's smile. Not guessing, I know it is.
I watch them a moment longer, realizing that if I do get a reply it'll be one he doesn't even really know he's giving. And that reminds me so much of myself - only I have it with books - that it makes me smile softly. Shaking my head I turn back on the balls of my feet to grab a small towel from the kitchen. Doesn't take me long to get back to Angel and put it on his shoulder.
Doubt he even noticed that, I think to myself as I pad back to the kitchen. Right then, lets make some more food for Connor. It almost as easy as with Angel's food. Except for the part where I have to mix Connor's food, it's pretty much of the 'put it in the microwave to heat and be done' variety.
Like father like son, and doesn't that thought make me chuckle. "Need anything else?" I call out as I make some more bottles for Connor. "Need something to eat yourself perhaps?"
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