Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Angel or Buffy characters. They all belong to Joss Whedon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Set after Lineage, this story explains where Wesley went after he shot his 'father'.

Wiping his eyes as the plane descended into Heathrow International Airport, Wesley felt his stomach stink with it. What had compelled him to buy a ticket to London, and hop the first plane he could get after all these years? It almost seemed irresponsible to him now that he had had a trans-Atlantic flight to think about it. He supposed he could always land, spend a few days relaxing in his hometown, and then get back to Los Angeles without ever seeing them.

Sighing as they landed, he waited for the plane to halt before he stood and gathered his carry on bag that contained the presents he had brought. More like bribes, he thought to himself, something that would make them hate him less. Making his way to the terminal, still debating what he was going to do, he noticed his mother, and smiled for the first time in days.

"Mum," he said as she came forward and gave him a hug.

"Oh, it's been too long, dear," she said, stepping back, and looking him up and down, then touching the stubble on his face.

"You haven't shaved since you left," she laughed.

"No, I just. . .," he shrugged letting it go, "do you think I should before. . . ."

Waving a hand, Helen shook her head, "no, you're fine. Thin, but fine."

Rolling his eyes at this, Wesley felt like he was a teenager again with his mother complaining about his small frame. He didn't have much time to think about this however, as his mother jumped to the subject of his father.

"You know, love, you're father and I were a bit surprised when we got your call. I mean, don't get me wrong, we love that you've decided to come home for a few days, but do you really think this is a good idea? After all these years," she asked, looking at him earnestly.

Shaking his head, he tried to forget what had happened just forty-eight hours ago. He was so sure the cyborg was his father, and he hated him so much, just wanted to get rid of him. It had shaken him to his core.

"Something happened, in Los Angeles, Mum, and I realized that when. . .you grow up without. . .," he began but knew she already understood.

Taking his arm in hers, she smiled, trying to dispel the heavy feeling that had come over them. "Very well, then, you're an adult and know what you're doing," she said, "but I'm going to feed you before you do anything."

Nodding, he was grateful she didn't see fit to argue with him. This was something he knew he needed to do, and he promised himself, after lunch, he'd do it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Opening his math book and laying it on the desk before him, twelve-year-old Simon looked from the page to his paper, copying the problem, then solving it. Everything was peaceful for a Saturday night, almost too peaceful, but he didn't want to think about this. He was just glad for the silence so he could get his heavy load of homework done.

"What are you doing," a voice from behind him said, causing him to be jolted from math land and back into reality.

"Homework," he replied, sighing as he examined where the lead on his pencil had snapped after he was startled.

"Oh," he ten-year-old sister Sally answered, taking a seat on his bed.

Rolling his eyes, Simon pointed a finger at the door, "don't you have some you should be doing?"

"Yeah, but I'm bored," she said, ignoring him and laying down on his bed.

"You're going to be dea. . .," he began just as his older sister opened the door next to his and stepped into the room.

"Do you mind keeping it down? I'm talking to Josh," she said, pointing at the phone.

"Does Mum know," Simon replied, causing his sister to roll her eyes, "you wouldn't dare," she said as she left.

Turning back to his work, he mumbled something about too much estrogen and his older sister not being allowed to have a boyfriend, but selected a new pencil and began to work again. Sally was quiet enough, but if she started asking annoying questions she was getting kicked out, he decided.

"Simon," she began, but he shook his head.

"Leave me alone, Sally, I don't care," he said, but instantly regretted it as his mother came in.

"Simon, be nice to your sister," she said, placing a pile of clothes on his bed next to the girl.

"Mum! She's annoying me while I'm trying to do my homework," he said, but she shook her head.

"You're older, she looks up to you, and Sara. . .where is Sarah, anyway," she asked, having just been in her room.

Shaking his head, Simon knew his sister was just outside her window talking to her new boyfriend, Josh, but knew better than to tell. After all, she had cut him a break on who broke the Japanese vase his mother had loved.

"I dunno," he said, not looking her in the eye.

Perking up on the bed, Sally's eyes widened, and Simon knew what was coming. "She's outside talking to her boyfriend," the little girl told her mother.

"Tattle-tale," the boy said, as his mother opened his window and stuck her head out, to see her oldest daughter, giggling at something the boy on the other end at said, but then stopping abruptly.

Telling her that she had better come in and hang up the phone with a stern look, Lily went back into her son's room, and had crossed into the hallway in a matter of steps, the younger children watching her as Sarah met her.

"Young lady, what are you doing," she asked, taking the phone as Sarah handed it to her.

"I was uh. . .ordering a pizza," the girl tried to lie, but again, Sally thwarted her.

"She was talking to Jo-o-osh," the girl pretended to swoon as her brother nudged her.

"Josh, huh? You have a boyfriend," her mother asked her as the girl gave her younger sister daggers.

"Well. . .he just kind of asked me, so I. . .hadn't had a chance to tell you," she said, then pointed at her brother, "he broke your Japanese vase!"

"Hey," Simon yelled, seeing that his sister was trying to give him up to get herself out of trouble. "That's not. . .I didn't mean to. . .Sally's the one who killed the fish!"

"Well, Sarah has a boyfriend," the little girl exclaimed, hoping not to be grounded for feeding Goldy chocolate ice cream. She really had thought that he'd like it!

Mouth wide open, Lily was surprised at how much she could learn from one child getting in trouble. It was like a domino effect. If one was going down, they were taking the others with them.

Before she could say anything however, the doorbell rang.

"Don't move a muscle, any of you," she said, shaking her head and going downstairs to answer the door.

Watching her, the three looked at one another and leaned over the banister, curious as to who had saved them from certain punishment.

Settling, Lily opened the door, "hello," she began, but cut herself off as she saw who it was.

"I. . .uh, what. . .," stopping she closed her eyes, then opened them again to make sure he was real. He certainly was. Before she could say anything else though, Simon had taken Sally's hand and slammed his bedroom door, and Sarah had come down the stairs.

"Looks like Dad's come home from his five year business trip," she said, fixing him with a dark gaze.

"I guess sorry isn't going to. . .," Wesley began but his eldest daughter rolled her eyes, and retreated back up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door.

"Cut it," he finished, as Lily still eyed him, and then stepped out onto the porch, closing the door softly behind her.

Yes, he was in for, but he knew he deserved it.