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?"
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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