Lines, shadows, more lines, I just keep sketching, trying not to pause too often and just stare at the little boy. So tiny. Fragile. And we're going to have our hands full protecting him. Especially if word ever got out about what he is. A child of two vampires. It doesn't make any sense. None. But here we are. Or here Connor is.
He makes a few gurgling noises as I get up to start sorting the laundry, but he stops pretty soon after he starts. I hope Wes likes the sketches, I think as I pad softly over to our pile of clothes from the trip. Wow, that seems like so long ago. So long.
I keep glancing over at Connor as I sort darks and lights, eventually coming across the bright orange apron from our trip. Heh. I do like that apron. Since I'm being domestic, I might as well put it on. Which I do. I'll be making lunch later anyway.
Oh, oh, looks like someone's awake. I smile as cries start almost as soon as he wakes. It must be strange waking up. To go from darkness to movement, lights, and colors suddenly. I wonder if it's kind of frightening. I also wonder if maybe the little guy would cry less if Wes were still up here. But that will have to be an experiment for another time, I think as I scoop him up, already knowing to check for a dirty diaper. No, not yet. But probably after he eats, I'm guessing.
"Good afternoon, my boy," I murmur to him as if he understands me. "We're on house duty today, you and me. But...how about we get you a bottle first before we take the laundry down," I say to him. I'm sure I can figure out Wes' bottle system. Probably. Most likely. I hope.
Bloody hell, I had no idea I was so very far behind. It seems weeks of work is waiting for me instead of just-- has it been weeks since I've done my job? Seems decades, so maybe it's true. The amount of work I find here that is. So much paper-work, so many bills, so many-- Thank god I've already got all of Cordelia's filing system sorted out.
It's about more then ten cups of tea, a lot of sighs and a growing headache later that I finally find myself watching the end come near. Bank papers sorted, licenses sorted, people called, some more translation work reeled in. Just investigating work doesn't pay the bills, but I guess no one gets that. And dear god are we going to need to money now that Connor's here.
Oh, bloody hell. Connor. There are so many things I need to arrange for him as well. At once I push what's left of the work I wanted to do today to the side and start making a list of things I need to arrange for the boy. I'm so busy with that I don't even notice Lorne coming in with a fresh cup of tea. He must've done it before, since I've found fresh tea several times when taking a sip and expecting cold tea.
Once again everything is going so differently then from what I'd imagined would happen when we came back from our vacation. Which started off with the news that Buffy wasn't dead any longer. I should've know things would get even more rocky from then on. What I had wanted to do was research getting my mark on Angel, *that's* what I wanted to research. But there are so many other, more important things to done that it'll have to wait.
Sighing, I sip my tea (warm) and reach for the phone. I need to call back Bert for those papers I've been asking him to draw up for Connor. Just need to make sure he'd got everything the way it should be... can't make any mistakes, *no* mistakes with Angel's son.
I'm all set to try this bottle making thing, only to open the fridge and find a few bottles all set and ready to go. Well, okay. Can't be much different than heating up blood. I shift Connor to my hip, or what I have of a hip, and grab the bottle, popping it into the microwave for like 30 seconds. Okay, a little longer. Not too warm though. Okay, so maybe a little less time. "Sorry, kiddo, gotta wait for it to cool a little," I say to his cries which the makes the situation seem like life or death. Sorry, sorry! I look at him worriedly, but I'm pretty sure it can't be that bad. Vaguely, I remember my mom with Sarah crying and not looking too worried. Good thing Wes is downstairs and can't hear.
...Huh. I wonder if we should get some kind of thing so that he *could* hear. Hmm. "Hey, you'll get food soon, I promise," I say to him shaking the bottle, and trying to feel if it's cool enough. "Not yet, not yet, Connor," I murmur, dancing Connor around the room a little. I can hear someone come in, but I don't turn around right away. I'd know that demon smell anywhere.
"Hey, Lorne. Just a little food emergency," I tell him. Of course Lorne would have heard. Kind of feels like I shouldn't make mistakes. I'm the dad after all. Dads know what to do.
"Aw, he's just a growing boy. Like his dad," Lorne says, grinning at Connor over my shoulder and distracting him with faces. Lorne must be pretty interesting to look at, because eventually Connor calms down a bit. Not totally quiet, but quieter.
While I feed Connor, Lorne and I talk cribs. And some kind of carrier thing. Cordy can't kill us for getting those few things. I think?
"Sure thing, Angelcakes, I'll make it a priority for you two lovebirds," Lorne says as he's leaving, "And you keep an eye on your dad, munchkin. Make sure he doesn't do anything I wouldn't do." Connor grins sleepily, sated with milk and probably ready to do that burping thing.
He gets burped, cleaned up, and another diaper, and I carry him around while I sort the laundry and carry the laundry downstairs, humming out of tune. Well, everyone else says it's out of tune, but I don't know, it sounds okay to me. We make laundry runs up and down the stairs several times. I sneak a glance at Wes a few times, but he's totally engrossed. Looks like he's doing okay though.
Might be a good time for lunch. Connor and I make a quick sandwich, pile on some carrot sticks, and a glass of orange juice. "For Wes," I tell Connor, describing everything to him. How's he going to learn if nobody tells him what's going on? "We'll bring you some too," I smile at Connor, who gurgles while I carry the tray of Wes' food with a bottle under one arm and Connor in the other. "Lunch with your dads. Already it's bring your son to work day. You must be pretty special," I say as Connor and I scoot our way into Wes' office.
Calling Bert had calmed me down somewhat. He told me he was almost done with the papers, tomorrow at the latest. Bert was one of those demons who you could trust to do the job fast, good and wouldn't go blather it around like some old gossip woman. There are very few demons or humans I know like that. So that was taken care of.
The list was taken care of as well, as soon as I saw Lorne I'd ask him. But for some reason the fellow keeps eluding me. I'd find some fresh tea every now and then while I do my work, but never Lorne. I make a mental not to look for him later, right now I have some work to do. Catching up on the paper-work, the book keeping. Good thing Cordelia sends out the bills or we'd be in real trouble.
The book-keeping is easily taken care of, since I keep that frantically up to date. I'd hate for us to be surprised with a sudden lack of money. Or rather, a *more* lack of money. It's not as though we have a lot of that laying around or to put on our accounts. But thus far we're able to make ends meet. With Connor around though, I'm not taking any chances. Perhaps I should open up a savings account for boy, a college fund and the likes.
I'm still mulling that over while flipping through book after book. Looking for some magical spell, or something else that would make it possible for a mere human to leave a mark on a being such as Angel. And immortal, a vampire, anything of the sort. It's not easy thinking of Angel in such a way, but for the sake of research I'll have to. It's not making much progress though.
I keep going back to the list, adding a few things, removing some other things. My mind keeps wandering toward Angel and how he's doing. Haven't heard any frantic yelling yet so I'm guessing he's doing as wonderful as I thought he'd be. And of course I'm thinking about Connor as well-- Mostly worrying about the boy's future.
Once again I'm concentrating so deeply that I don't even notice Angel doing a balancing Connor and tray act until I look up. Only to blink at them in confused stupidity as though I've never seen them before for quite a while before jumping up. "Oh, oh dear. Here let me help you with that, love," I murmur, reaching for the tray.
We manage to scoot through the door very, very carefully. I'm more worried about spilling the baby than I am about the tray and I try to keep an eye on both even though I've been carting Connor around all morning and should be totally attuned to his every move. What I am attuned to is the familiar heartbeat that settles into my body once we're in the room.
Wes looks entirely ensconced in whatever he's working on, pen between his fingers ready to jot down anything important, or anything that strikes him. He's got that cute little wrinkle between his eyes, which is always the sign that he's thinking hard about something. Or thinking just a little about a lot of things. I get the feeling there are a lot of things on Wes' mind at any given time. Don't know for sure, but that's my guess. All the more reason why making him even close to incoherent is a major breakthrough, and well, a big stroke to my ego.
I'm just about to set the tray on Wes' desk when he jumps up to help. Oh, uhh, it would have been better if he'd gone for Connor, I think. Oh... I watch and try to keep the tray steady as Wes reaches for the tray. Oh, I hope it doesn't spill. Please let it not spill. Especially not on the books. I'd never hear then end of that.
"You've got it?" I ask finally letting go as it feels like he's taking the weight of the tray. My hand automatically goes to hold onto Connor, before leaning in for a quick peck on the cheek to Wes. Don't want him to drop the tray because he got too caught up in kissing. No, I'm sure he needs his lunch. Connor too, probably after all that time we've spent on the laundry. Not that I thought Wes was going to drink the bottle I've set on the tray, but you know...don't want to forget or something. I'm sure being in the same room as Wes would have the power to make me forget a small thing like that.
"I have it." Quickly taking the tray from Angel, I turn around and glance at my over-crowded desk. I turn back around in the hope that there's room on the other side of the desk, only-- to get a kiss from Angel. Of course that makes me smile right away, and look at him with the sort of adoration which would have Cordelia mocking me for weeks on end. As well as Gunn.
"Thank you," I murmur, slipping past him and ignoring the blush that seems to creep up. Completely random blush I'm sure. That is one habit I wish would just... go away already. This is Angel, there's nothing for me to blush about. All that for a little kiss, good lord.
I'm still smiling though. Connor gets a smile too as I look at him, thinking the boy looks utterly content. I knew Angel was going to be a wonderful father. He's been with Connor all day now and even thought to bring a bottle to feed him. Not everyone would do that, I'm sure. I don't know if I would've thought of it.
Finding a spot on my desk that's-- somewhat free of important papers, I set the tray down. Halfway at any rate, holding onto it with one hand. With my now free hand I move some papers out of the way to settle the tray more securely. Then I grab the bottle, still warm, and hold it out to Angel.
"He'll probably want this while its still warm," I point out. Yes, still wearing that silly smile. As I turn back to the tray to pick up the glass of orange juice, I wonder what this fascination is Angel seems to have when it comes to-- carrot sticks. Really seems fond of those. Wonder if that's a subtle hint about my eating habits. Or lack there of.
Shrugging, I grab a few and the juice, then turn back around and lean against my desk. "So how'd it go so far today? Having some quality fun father son time?" I ask interested.
The blush on Wes' cheeks rises fast, and unexpectedly for me at least. Guess I'd forgotten that I could still make him blush. It's still as adorable as it ever was. And even more adorable is the way he smiles at Connor, and Connor very clearly looks back and looks alert. His friend is in the room. I can already tell he recognizes Wes. It's adorable. I'm glad they have some kind of connection, even if Wes won't believe it.
Taking the bottle from Wes, I relax back into one of the comfier chairs still in the office, and start to feed Connor. "Yeah, the little guy probably already worked up an appetite," I say absently, watching Connor drink before looking back at Wes. Who is actually nibbling on the carrots. And I thought I'd have to give him some a few more times before he'd actually eat them. Heh. Although, it seems like Wes isn't that picky an eater, just...a forgot-to-do-it sort of eater.
"Pretty good. Connor's learning the finer points of doing the laundry?" I say, with a shrug of my shoulders and a sort of apologetic smile. Probably not the first activity most fathers and sons share, but...it's something.
I take a quick glance at Wes' long legs as he leans against the desk, somewhat sorry we didn't get to finish what we started this morning, but maybe it was worth it and Wes got some things done. "How are things going in here? Productive?" I ask, tilting the bottle a little more so the formula stuff stays down where Connor is drinking. Don't want to get too pushy or nosy and make Wes feel cornered. Besides, I'm sure Connor and I have more chores. Or naps to take, I think with a smile.
While I nibble those carrot sticks - they're not so bad, just extremely watery - I watch Angel giving his son a bottle. My smile softens as I watch them, watch the look on Angel's face. So proud already, so tender. Here is a man who's over two-hundred and forty years old. Who gave up being a father more then two centuries ago, now has something he probably never even dreamed of.
A son. His own flesh and blood. And I can't help it, but as I stand there watching them there's this pang tugging at my heart. Knowing that I'll never have what he has. My own child. Yes, I know what he's said, and I know he wants me to raise Connor with him. But I just cannot help but feel a little sad and a sense of loss over someone I've never actually had.
"The laundry hmm?" As I sip the juice, I can feel the smile on my face broadening. Imagining Angel telling Connor the finer points of doing the laundry does have that effect. It's very cute among other things. "I'm sure Connor was a captivated audience," I tell him, eyes flicking back to Connor. My, that boy is guzzling down that milk fast. Goodness.
Pushing away from the desk, I put the half empty glass back on the tray and reach into my pocket to get out my handkerchief. Then I walk over to Angel and carefully put it over his shoulder. He's been busy all morning with the laundry, would be a shame if he'd have to get right back to it. Of course, with a baby in our midst, laundry is going to be an important chore.
"Hmmm?" Angel gets a return kiss on the cheek before I step back to lean against the desk again. "Oh! Yes, actually. Well, more in the form or important leads which may lead to what I've been looking for. Still have some way to go, but-- I think," I say, softening my voice as I watch his reaction, "I maybe have found a way to get my mark on you. Or rather, a very promising lead to getting it done." I hope.
"I guess he was," I say, smiling back at Wes. I'm glad he's here. I'm glad we're together and that I can share this with him. "A very captive audience since I wouldn't let him do anything else," I add with a wry grin. I'm betting that'll be a point of contention in just a few short years. I certainly remember fighting constantly with my own father. But I guess there's always hope that things will be different with Connor. Who knows.
Oh, hey-- I smile up at Wes when I realize what he's done. That's- That's really sweet of him. My eyes even close for a few moments when I feel Wes kiss my cheek. He's wonderful. I shift Connor in my arms once he's done with the bottle to do the burping thing. Courtesy of Wes' handkerchief, hopefully, my shirt won't get mussed.
Wes is kind of babbling when I look back at him, and I'm not really sure what he's talking about until his voice goes imperceptibly quieter and softer, making me listen more closely. He might have-- Maybe-- My head feels a little dizzy and I give him a small smile that's threatening to burst wide.
"You really think so?" I'm almost speechless as I look at him hopefully. "That's great, Wes!" I say, my smile really bursting wide by now. "You're amazing," I murmur, wishing I could kiss him right now. He's going to be able to mark me. He's really going to do it. "I love you," I murmur, eyes full of that love as I look at him, hand brushing gently over Connor's back.
He's going to find a way. He's going to mark me. And we'll really belong to each other, I think, just as Connor lets out a pointed belch.
Sometimes it's amusing and sometimes it's annoying to watch Angel, or even Gunn and Cordelia's eyes glaze over when I talk. Talk about research, or strategic planning, or demons or language. They get that far away look in their eyes as if they have no idea what I'm on about. Of course both Cordelia and Gunn are quite loudly agreeing with me there when they get the change.
Not Angel. No, not my Angel. He tries, but I can still see that confused, far away look in his eyes. This time though, I'm watching him very closely, wanting to see his reaction. Wanting to know if that-- if he still wants my mark. I mean, now that he had Connor, things might've changed. I don't know.
His reaction though, makes me blush instantly though. This time it's the compliment that's mostly doing it. I smile at him shyly, ducking my head at his enthusiasm. Even Connor seems to let out a squeal of delight... No wait, what was a burp. Oh well... Doesn't take away the effect of Angel's words though.
My smile turns even shyer at that and I think I could pass very well for a tomato. "I uhm... Well, it's just a lead so far," I tell him, "But-but it's very promising. I'll have to do some asking around and-and things."
I'm so tempted to pull out the books and hold them under his nose. But for one thing he doesn't even speak the language. And for another, he's busy with Connor. "But it's very promising," I finish quietly, walking over to them. I brush my hand over Connor's feather soft hair, while my other hand does the same on Angel's cheek. "I love you too, Angel."
He makes a few gurgling noises as I get up to start sorting the laundry, but he stops pretty soon after he starts. I hope Wes likes the sketches, I think as I pad softly over to our pile of clothes from the trip. Wow, that seems like so long ago. So long.
I keep glancing over at Connor as I sort darks and lights, eventually coming across the bright orange apron from our trip. Heh. I do like that apron. Since I'm being domestic, I might as well put it on. Which I do. I'll be making lunch later anyway.
Oh, oh, looks like someone's awake. I smile as cries start almost as soon as he wakes. It must be strange waking up. To go from darkness to movement, lights, and colors suddenly. I wonder if it's kind of frightening. I also wonder if maybe the little guy would cry less if Wes were still up here. But that will have to be an experiment for another time, I think as I scoop him up, already knowing to check for a dirty diaper. No, not yet. But probably after he eats, I'm guessing.
"Good afternoon, my boy," I murmur to him as if he understands me. "We're on house duty today, you and me. But...how about we get you a bottle first before we take the laundry down," I say to him. I'm sure I can figure out Wes' bottle system. Probably. Most likely. I hope.
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It's about more then ten cups of tea, a lot of sighs and a growing headache later that I finally find myself watching the end come near. Bank papers sorted, licenses sorted, people called, some more translation work reeled in. Just investigating work doesn't pay the bills, but I guess no one gets that. And dear god are we going to need to money now that Connor's here.
Oh, bloody hell. Connor. There are so many things I need to arrange for him as well. At once I push what's left of the work I wanted to do today to the side and start making a list of things I need to arrange for the boy. I'm so busy with that I don't even notice Lorne coming in with a fresh cup of tea. He must've done it before, since I've found fresh tea several times when taking a sip and expecting cold tea.
Once again everything is going so differently then from what I'd imagined would happen when we came back from our vacation. Which started off with the news that Buffy wasn't dead any longer. I should've know things would get even more rocky from then on. What I had wanted to do was research getting my mark on Angel, *that's* what I wanted to research. But there are so many other, more important things to done that it'll have to wait.
Sighing, I sip my tea (warm) and reach for the phone. I need to call back Bert for those papers I've been asking him to draw up for Connor. Just need to make sure he'd got everything the way it should be... can't make any mistakes, *no* mistakes with Angel's son.
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...Huh. I wonder if we should get some kind of thing so that he *could* hear. Hmm. "Hey, you'll get food soon, I promise," I say to him shaking the bottle, and trying to feel if it's cool enough. "Not yet, not yet, Connor," I murmur, dancing Connor around the room a little. I can hear someone come in, but I don't turn around right away. I'd know that demon smell anywhere.
"Hey, Lorne. Just a little food emergency," I tell him. Of course Lorne would have heard. Kind of feels like I shouldn't make mistakes. I'm the dad after all. Dads know what to do.
"Aw, he's just a growing boy. Like his dad," Lorne says, grinning at Connor over my shoulder and distracting him with faces. Lorne must be pretty interesting to look at, because eventually Connor calms down a bit. Not totally quiet, but quieter.
While I feed Connor, Lorne and I talk cribs. And some kind of carrier thing. Cordy can't kill us for getting those few things. I think?
"Sure thing, Angelcakes, I'll make it a priority for you two lovebirds," Lorne says as he's leaving, "And you keep an eye on your dad, munchkin. Make sure he doesn't do anything I wouldn't do." Connor grins sleepily, sated with milk and probably ready to do that burping thing.
He gets burped, cleaned up, and another diaper, and I carry him around while I sort the laundry and carry the laundry downstairs, humming out of tune. Well, everyone else says it's out of tune, but I don't know, it sounds okay to me. We make laundry runs up and down the stairs several times. I sneak a glance at Wes a few times, but he's totally engrossed. Looks like he's doing okay though.
Might be a good time for lunch. Connor and I make a quick sandwich, pile on some carrot sticks, and a glass of orange juice. "For Wes," I tell Connor, describing everything to him. How's he going to learn if nobody tells him what's going on? "We'll bring you some too," I smile at Connor, who gurgles while I carry the tray of Wes' food with a bottle under one arm and Connor in the other. "Lunch with your dads. Already it's bring your son to work day. You must be pretty special," I say as Connor and I scoot our way into Wes' office.
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The list was taken care of as well, as soon as I saw Lorne I'd ask him. But for some reason the fellow keeps eluding me. I'd find some fresh tea every now and then while I do my work, but never Lorne. I make a mental not to look for him later, right now I have some work to do. Catching up on the paper-work, the book keeping. Good thing Cordelia sends out the bills or we'd be in real trouble.
The book-keeping is easily taken care of, since I keep that frantically up to date. I'd hate for us to be surprised with a sudden lack of money. Or rather, a *more* lack of money. It's not as though we have a lot of that laying around or to put on our accounts. But thus far we're able to make ends meet. With Connor around though, I'm not taking any chances. Perhaps I should open up a savings account for boy, a college fund and the likes.
I'm still mulling that over while flipping through book after book. Looking for some magical spell, or something else that would make it possible for a mere human to leave a mark on a being such as Angel. And immortal, a vampire, anything of the sort. It's not easy thinking of Angel in such a way, but for the sake of research I'll have to. It's not making much progress though.
I keep going back to the list, adding a few things, removing some other things. My mind keeps wandering toward Angel and how he's doing. Haven't heard any frantic yelling yet so I'm guessing he's doing as wonderful as I thought he'd be. And of course I'm thinking about Connor as well-- Mostly worrying about the boy's future.
Once again I'm concentrating so deeply that I don't even notice Angel doing a balancing Connor and tray act until I look up. Only to blink at them in confused stupidity as though I've never seen them before for quite a while before jumping up. "Oh, oh dear. Here let me help you with that, love," I murmur, reaching for the tray.
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Wes looks entirely ensconced in whatever he's working on, pen between his fingers ready to jot down anything important, or anything that strikes him. He's got that cute little wrinkle between his eyes, which is always the sign that he's thinking hard about something. Or thinking just a little about a lot of things. I get the feeling there are a lot of things on Wes' mind at any given time. Don't know for sure, but that's my guess. All the more reason why making him even close to incoherent is a major breakthrough, and well, a big stroke to my ego.
I'm just about to set the tray on Wes' desk when he jumps up to help. Oh, uhh, it would have been better if he'd gone for Connor, I think. Oh... I watch and try to keep the tray steady as Wes reaches for the tray. Oh, I hope it doesn't spill. Please let it not spill. Especially not on the books. I'd never hear then end of that.
"You've got it?" I ask finally letting go as it feels like he's taking the weight of the tray. My hand automatically goes to hold onto Connor, before leaning in for a quick peck on the cheek to Wes. Don't want him to drop the tray because he got too caught up in kissing. No, I'm sure he needs his lunch. Connor too, probably after all that time we've spent on the laundry. Not that I thought Wes was going to drink the bottle I've set on the tray, but you know...don't want to forget or something. I'm sure being in the same room as Wes would have the power to make me forget a small thing like that.
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"Thank you," I murmur, slipping past him and ignoring the blush that seems to creep up. Completely random blush I'm sure. That is one habit I wish would just... go away already. This is Angel, there's nothing for me to blush about. All that for a little kiss, good lord.
I'm still smiling though. Connor gets a smile too as I look at him, thinking the boy looks utterly content. I knew Angel was going to be a wonderful father. He's been with Connor all day now and even thought to bring a bottle to feed him. Not everyone would do that, I'm sure. I don't know if I would've thought of it.
Finding a spot on my desk that's-- somewhat free of important papers, I set the tray down. Halfway at any rate, holding onto it with one hand. With my now free hand I move some papers out of the way to settle the tray more securely. Then I grab the bottle, still warm, and hold it out to Angel.
"He'll probably want this while its still warm," I point out. Yes, still wearing that silly smile. As I turn back to the tray to pick up the glass of orange juice, I wonder what this fascination is Angel seems to have when it comes to-- carrot sticks. Really seems fond of those. Wonder if that's a subtle hint about my eating habits. Or lack there of.
Shrugging, I grab a few and the juice, then turn back around and lean against my desk. "So how'd it go so far today? Having some quality fun father son time?" I ask interested.
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Taking the bottle from Wes, I relax back into one of the comfier chairs still in the office, and start to feed Connor. "Yeah, the little guy probably already worked up an appetite," I say absently, watching Connor drink before looking back at Wes. Who is actually nibbling on the carrots. And I thought I'd have to give him some a few more times before he'd actually eat them. Heh. Although, it seems like Wes isn't that picky an eater, just...a forgot-to-do-it sort of eater.
"Pretty good. Connor's learning the finer points of doing the laundry?" I say, with a shrug of my shoulders and a sort of apologetic smile. Probably not the first activity most fathers and sons share, but...it's something.
I take a quick glance at Wes' long legs as he leans against the desk, somewhat sorry we didn't get to finish what we started this morning, but maybe it was worth it and Wes got some things done. "How are things going in here? Productive?" I ask, tilting the bottle a little more so the formula stuff stays down where Connor is drinking. Don't want to get too pushy or nosy and make Wes feel cornered. Besides, I'm sure Connor and I have more chores. Or naps to take, I think with a smile.
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A son. His own flesh and blood. And I can't help it, but as I stand there watching them there's this pang tugging at my heart. Knowing that I'll never have what he has. My own child. Yes, I know what he's said, and I know he wants me to raise Connor with him. But I just cannot help but feel a little sad and a sense of loss over someone I've never actually had.
"The laundry hmm?" As I sip the juice, I can feel the smile on my face broadening. Imagining Angel telling Connor the finer points of doing the laundry does have that effect. It's very cute among other things. "I'm sure Connor was a captivated audience," I tell him, eyes flicking back to Connor. My, that boy is guzzling down that milk fast. Goodness.
Pushing away from the desk, I put the half empty glass back on the tray and reach into my pocket to get out my handkerchief. Then I walk over to Angel and carefully put it over his shoulder. He's been busy all morning with the laundry, would be a shame if he'd have to get right back to it. Of course, with a baby in our midst, laundry is going to be an important chore.
"Hmmm?" Angel gets a return kiss on the cheek before I step back to lean against the desk again. "Oh! Yes, actually. Well, more in the form or important leads which may lead to what I've been looking for. Still have some way to go, but-- I think," I say, softening my voice as I watch his reaction, "I maybe have found a way to get my mark on you. Or rather, a very promising lead to getting it done." I hope.
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Oh, hey-- I smile up at Wes when I realize what he's done. That's- That's really sweet of him. My eyes even close for a few moments when I feel Wes kiss my cheek. He's wonderful. I shift Connor in my arms once he's done with the bottle to do the burping thing. Courtesy of Wes' handkerchief, hopefully, my shirt won't get mussed.
Wes is kind of babbling when I look back at him, and I'm not really sure what he's talking about until his voice goes imperceptibly quieter and softer, making me listen more closely. He might have-- Maybe-- My head feels a little dizzy and I give him a small smile that's threatening to burst wide.
"You really think so?" I'm almost speechless as I look at him hopefully. "That's great, Wes!" I say, my smile really bursting wide by now. "You're amazing," I murmur, wishing I could kiss him right now. He's going to be able to mark me. He's really going to do it. "I love you," I murmur, eyes full of that love as I look at him, hand brushing gently over Connor's back.
He's going to find a way. He's going to mark me. And we'll really belong to each other, I think, just as Connor lets out a pointed belch.
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Not Angel. No, not my Angel. He tries, but I can still see that confused, far away look in his eyes. This time though, I'm watching him very closely, wanting to see his reaction. Wanting to know if that-- if he still wants my mark. I mean, now that he had Connor, things might've changed. I don't know.
His reaction though, makes me blush instantly though. This time it's the compliment that's mostly doing it. I smile at him shyly, ducking my head at his enthusiasm. Even Connor seems to let out a squeal of delight... No wait, what was a burp. Oh well... Doesn't take away the effect of Angel's words though.
My smile turns even shyer at that and I think I could pass very well for a tomato. "I uhm... Well, it's just a lead so far," I tell him, "But-but it's very promising. I'll have to do some asking around and-and things."
I'm so tempted to pull out the books and hold them under his nose. But for one thing he doesn't even speak the language. And for another, he's busy with Connor. "But it's very promising," I finish quietly, walking over to them. I brush my hand over Connor's feather soft hair, while my other hand does the same on Angel's cheek. "I love you too, Angel."
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