Title - Bela Lugosi's Dead

Disclaimer- Whedon owns them.

Rating- teen

Characters/Pairing - Connor, Angel (Implied B/A and Connor/Dawn friendship)

Word Count -1,141

Warning-- none

Summary - Connor has plans for some father-son bonding.

Author's Note- This was written for sunnydalescribe's 'masquerade' challenge (It was supposed to be a drabble. Cough.) and for my allbingo prompt 'salt.' Today I saw Dracula in a 1930s Art Deco theater in my town and thought 'This would make a fun setting.' This got written in 20 minutes thereafter. All writing should be so easy. Let's say this fits into my Hyperion's Son universe which is an AR and Connor is a bit of a geek in that series and a lot of repair is needed after Wolfram and Hart's spell rewriting Connor's life went horribly wrong.

X X X

Connor withstood the heat of Angel's gaze and managed not to break character by smiling. Angel wanted father-son bonding time and as far as Connor was concerned, this should be perfect. Talking Angel into going out on Halloween had been surprisingly difficult. Who knew vampires considered going out on that day to be gauche? Still, in spite of days of whining about the damage to his reputation – as if somehow being a vampire slayer wasn't already a nuclear bomb level of damage to said reputation – Connor had convinced him that this would be fun. Buffy and Dawn helped with that, even though, as far as Angel knew, they wouldn't be joining them.

Cocking up an eyebrow at his father, Connor said. "I see you're not in costume, Angel. I told you this was a masquerade."

"And I told you, I don't do costumes." Angel swept his gaze over Connor again, taking in the Victorian outfit he usually reserved for his steampunk fun. He even had on his top hat with goggles but he had gone one step further. On his belt Connor had a leather strap dangling a Bible with a certain family name on it, a bracer of stakes, a bottle of holy water, a bottle of blessed salt and around his neck was a hybrid between a Celtic cross – not unlike the one tattooed to his back – and a crucifix.

"Costumes are mandatory for the party, jackass." Connor laughed, expecting this resistance.

"So you thought this was the time to crack out your Van Helsing cosplay?" Angel gestured to the Bible.

He beamed. "Seemed perfect given my feelings on vampires. So, you putting on your costume or what?"

Angel slipped into game face. "How's this? Now we're matched."

Connor snorted. "Fine. Let's go. You can put your ugly face back on once we get there."

"Are you telling me where we're going?" Angel pulled the car keys out of his pocket as he headed for the door.

Connor snatched them away. "Nope. I'll drive."

Angel pulled a long face. "Maybe we should take Buffy's car."

"And she can drive your old boat if she has to go anywhere? She'll wreck it long before I do."

Angel acquiesced. Connor drove but it actually wasn't that far from the hotel to begin with. He parked near the Art Deco theater and led the way in. Angel was busy looking at all the costumed people filing in then leaned over and whispered, "We're seeing a movie?"

"Uh-huh. Free horror flick tonight. We just need to buy some popcorn or something and toss money in the donation jar. I figured this was a safe bonding exercise since mostly we have to be quiet. It's when we talk things go wrong." He shrugged as Angel snorted. "Afterward is the costume ball," Connor said, handing over money for popcorn and waters. Angel took care of donating to the local blood bank, ironically enough.

He found them some prime seat just as the lights began to dim. He jammed the popcorn between them even though he knew Angel wouldn't actually eat any. His father looked around the Art Deco jewel which had been lovingly restored as the hostess for the evening started talking about the movie and the ball.

Angel leaned over and asked softly, "You know I don't dance, right?"

"Good because I have no intentions of dancing with you. My steampunk friends will be there. We don't have to stay long."

Angel settled back as the strains of Swan Lake started. Connor saw him stiffen up. "Son, what movie did you bring me to?"

"Which one do you think?" Connor grinned.

Angel shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"A perfect 1930s movie for a 1930s theater."

Angel face palmed as a stylized bat with the cast list flashed up on the screen. "Freaking Dracula! Remind me to tell you about the real one someday. Consider it payback."

"Um, there's a real one?"

Angel nodded and helped himself to some popcorn. Connor wondered if he was actually trying to bond or planned to hog it as payback for the movie choice. He decided it was the former as he and Angel actually enjoyed the movie.

X X X

Angel followed Van Helsing into the community building across the street for the ball. He dreaded it but he promised he'd try to enjoy it for Connor's sake. Any attempt Connor made to repair the rift between them deserved his cooperation. Let Connor dance while he sat in the shadows in his game face. "I don't miss much about the Thirties," he said as Connor fussed with the damnable crucifix around his neck. "But I do sort of miss those lovely gowns. Of course I wasn't in the position to enjoy them much then. I was still pretty half mad from my soul, even after all those decades." Of course he hadn't tried to be better, not after Darla had driven him out. Spike at least had a goal in mind when he got his soul back.

"You've never told me that. Hmm, I wonder." Connor whipped around and lightly touched the crucifix to Angel's hand.

He yanked it back, a curl of smoke rising up. "Connor!"

"Just testing." Connor looped the crucifix back around his neck. "I didn't actually believe Holtz about that. Does it work with other religious symbols?"

"I try not to find out. Brat. You could have just asked."

"I like proof. Don't be a baby. I barely touched you."

Somehow he doubted Connor cared much about zapping him like he had, knowing it would be a minor pain like a paper cut. He shouldn't let him hang out with Giles and Willow so much. They had him thinking like a Watcher but maybe that wasn't an awful thing. "So, this dance, how long do you think we're staying?"

Connor shrugged, making a beeline toward the sidewall where other people in Victorian garb were clustered. To Angel's surprise Buffy and Dawn were there in corseted gowns. They looked lovely. Connor glanced over his shoulder at him. "I figure you'll go home with Buffy whenever you're ready. Dawn will get me home. Have fun, Dad."

"This is a good night, Connor. Thanks for thinking of it."

"I had fun too." He slid an arm around Dawn's waist, pulling her closer to his other friends.

Angel looked at Buffy, raising his eyebrows. "With as many things that have gone wrong on various Halloweens for you, I'm surprised you're here but I'm glad you are."

She ran a hand over her stomach. "I still enjoy dressing up but man corsets sort of suck. Did you have fun at the movies?"

"My son is a bit of a brat but yes."

"Good." She took his hand. "Every slow dance is mine, mister."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."