Ketterly thank very much for the translation the history.

Connor had been on his best behavior all week. Francisca had invited him to a party, and he thought that if he did everything he was told without protest, that his father would give him permission to go. But when the day of the party arrived, he still didn't quite know how to ask permission, so he devised a plan to test the waters.

"Dad, what are we going to do tonight?"

"I'm going on patrol," Angel answered. "You're going to bed."

"I can't come with you?"

"Conn, you know that you're grounded."

"But I thought..."

"That if you behaved yourself, I would lift the punishment?"

"Yes... I mean, it's not like you intend to have me locked up for the rest of my life."

"Not the rest of your life, sweetheart. Only three months."

"But Daaaad. Don't you think that a week is more than sufficient? I mean, it's not like you haven't already punished me for what I did," he said, grimacing with pain and displeasure as he remembered just how his father had taken charge.

"No, Connor. You are grounded and you know it."

"Great. Thanks, Dad," he said sarcastically.

"No tantrums, Connor, unless you want to go to bed right now."

"I prefer to," he said, leaving for his room.

"Take this," Angel said, handing his son an envelope that he knew would fix his bad mood. "They sent them to me this afternoon."

"Thanks, Dad," he said, hugging him as he saw that besides his identity card and social security card, his father had included a driving course as a surprise gift.

"Fred will teach you how to drive," he said.

"But I thought you would teach me," Connor said, a little disappointed.

"Son, ideally you need to learn how to drive during the day, and I can't do that, but once you get your license, I'll lend you my car."

"You're not going to give me one?" Connor asked. "Franca's father gave her a car when she got her license."

"What a shame that he is not your dad," Angel said, a little embarrassed. Even though he had lived many years, he had not saved up enough money to give his son everything that he wanted.

"It doesn't matter. Chris doesn't even have time for her."

"My sweet little boy," Angel said fondly, ruffling his son's hair because he knew that he was trying to make him feel better.

"Hey, Dad. Do you think you'd ever let me go out somewhere with her sometime?"

"After three months."

"But Daaaaaaad."

"Connor, I'm pretty benevolent just letting her come over every day," Angel said.

"Yeah, right. You watch us all the time," Connor said.

"And just what is that you want to do that I can't know about?"

"Nothing, Dad. But you make me look like a baby in front of my girlfriend," he said without thinking.

"Girlfriend?" Angel asked.

"Uh... Yes. I asked her yesterday and she said yes."

"And just when exactly did you ask me for permission to do that? You're too little to have a girlfriend."

"Dad, I'm not little. And I didn't know I had to ask your permission. It's not like I'm gonna marry her."

"Connor, you are learning too many things for my taste."

"In that case, I won't even go to school," he said, departing before he gave his father an attack.

Later, Connor hid in Angel's office to call Franca.

"Connor, I've been waiting for you to call," she said.

"Sorry, I was busy with chores."

"And Angel gave you permission to go out?"

"Yes, but we have to meet in the plaza."

"Because?"

"Because I have to do some business with my dad... You know, demons and stuff."

"I thought your dad didn't want you involved in all that?" she said.

"I convinced him. You know Dad eats out of my hand." He knew lying was bad, but he didn't want Francisca to think that his father was still treating him like a baby.

"It didn't look like it the other day."

"That was before. After that day, he's not gonna... you know... anymore."

"Okay. I'm coming to look for you," she said.

"Bye. I love you, and see you soon," he said, cutting it short because he felt someone enter the office.

"Connor, what are you doing in the floor?"

"Fred. I dropped a book," he said nervously.

"I don't see anything," she said.

"Someone must have picked it up."

"Connor, when you drop something, pick it up immediately. Don't wait for someone else to do it for you. That's why you lose everything."

"I didn't think anyone would pick it up. It's not like everything here is tidy," he grumbled as he left the office.

After dinner...

"Connor, we're going on patrol."

"And me, I'm going to bed," he said angrily.

"If you want, I'll stay here with you. Maybe we could watch a movie," Angel said when he saw his son so upset.

"NO," he said quickly, but at seeing Angel's expression he added, "You will not leave the city unprotected just because I'm a bad kid." His cheeks flushed pink.

"You're not a bad kid. You just made a mistake, and now you're paying for it."

"Whatever. I'm going to sleep."

"Good night, son."

"You too."

Connor set his clock for one hour later, and then got in bed and fell asleep quickly (his father could easily distinguish when he was sleeping from when he was only pretending to sleep). So when Angel went in to kiss him goodnight, he didn't suspect a thing.

An hour later, Connor was waiting for his girlfriend in the square.

"Here, take this, Conn," she said, handing him a fake I.D.

"Thanks, but I already have one," he said, showing her the I.D. that Angel had given him that afternoon.

"Yes, but on that one, it says you're sixteen, and that won't do for where we're going."

"Okay, let's go!" he said excitedly. This was his first party, and he'd be interacting with those who, come Monday, would be his new classmates.

The party was in a bar where they had all sorts of alcohol available. Connor was fascinated. He loved the sense of freedom that alcohol gave him. He'd never been so uninhibited, and Francisca had to make sure that he didn't talk too much. In an unguarded moment, someone offered Connor drugs, and he remembered that the first girl he'd met had died from it. But then he saw that everyone else was having more fun, and he didn't know what to do. He remembered his dad's reaction, checking his arms and asking if he'd taken drugs, but in his drunkenness, he couldn't distinguish if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He decided it would be best to try them. Wasn't that why he was here? Finally he yelled,

"To try new things!"

Luckily Franca realized what he was about to do and stopped him.

"What are you doing, Conn?"

"Fitting in," he answered, his words coming out in a drawl.

"No, Connor. That's bad."

"Oh, come on, my love. Just once! Just one time!" he whined like a baby.

The guys around him shouted, "Connor, Connor!" to cheer him on, but Franca took his face in her hand and said,

"We're going, Connor."

"But... just a little bit longer..."

"Now, or I'm calling your father."

"No."

"Let's go."

"Party pooper," he said, stumbling along the walk.

As luck would have it, the police were doing a raid, and he fell down right in front of a furious officer.

"I'm sorry," Francisca said while trying to get Connor up off the ground.

"I.D.," the officer said unsympathetically.

"Here," Franca said, before Connor could hand him his fake one.

"I see. Sixteen and seventeen. Your parents are going to be happy," he said, picking Connor up off the ground.

"No, Dad definitely is not going to be happy," Connor said after wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"That was sarcasm, boy."

"I'm a little too drunk to know the difference," he answered, holding up his fingers about an inch apart to demonstrate the "little."

"Connor, shut up," Francisca ordered him. "...better."

Once in the car, the officer ordered them to call their parents.

Christopher was on duty at the hospital, and the officer offered to take Francisca there, but Connor just flat out refused to call his father.

"Son, call your dad," the officer repeated.

But Connor still refused to open his mouth.

"Conn, call Angel," Francisca said.

"You told me to shut up."

"Call your father."

"No."

The officer was losing patience when he heard Connor's cell phone ring. Without asking permission, he snatched it out of his hands, and seeing that "Dad" was calling, answered it himself.

"CONNOR STEVEN ANGEL, WHERE HAVE YOU GONE OFF TO?"

The officer saw Connor squirm when he heard his dad yelling.

"Mr. Angel, I'm Officer Smith," he said into the phone. "Your son has been detained."

"What?"

"Yes, I picked him up during a raid at a bar, and your son is completely drunk."

Angel counted to a thousand in vampire speed before he could contain his ire.

"Where do I have to go to get him?"

"I'm gonna let him go. I know that they're good kids that just made a mistake."

"Thank you," Angel said shortly before giving him the address of the hotel.

"I'm dead. Dad is going to kill me," Connor began to whimper.

"He's mad, but I guess he should have known this might happen when he gave you permission to go," Francisca said. Connor just looked at the floor. "Connor, you told me you had permission!"

"I lied, okay? I didn't want you to think that he was still treating me like a baby."

"Connor, I asked you because if you couldn't go, we could have done something else instead."

"But I wanted to go. It's not fair that he grounded me for three months," he complained now that hearing Angel yell had sobered him up a little bit.

"I hope that your father will punish you very severely," the officer said.

"Don't get into this. It's your fault I'm in trouble," Connor said.

"Connor," Francisca rebuked him. "Stop being insolent."

"I don't want to go home. Dad's gonna kill me. Can't they just lock me up and throw away the key?"

"No, if you're this anxious to avoid your father, I think that will serve you better than being in a jail cell." The officer wasn't worried about what would happen to the boy, because he saw no more than the typical fear of being punished, not the blind panic that he had seen in abused children. But he thought it was better to ask anyway. "What do you think your dad will do to you?"

"I don't have to think, I know. He's going to beat me," he said, looking at the floor.

"What?" the officer asked, alarmed to the point of calling social services.

"His dad is not going to beat him," Francisca said. "He's just going to spank him, and it's not like he doesn't deserve it."

"Hey, you're supposed to be on my side," Connor complained.

"I am, but you ran away from home to go to the party. Do you know the scare that must have given your dad?"

"What was I gonna do, leave a note so that he could come drag me out of the bar by my ear?" Connor asked, folding his arms and pouting.

"Do you know the anguish that it must cause to think that your son has been kidnapped?" she answered, sinking Connor in guilt. His dad had already suffered enough when he really had been kidnapped.

"I'm sorry. I understand if you don't want to be my girlfriend anymore. I'm a horrible person," he said, looking out the window.

"Connor, I love you, and I'm not going to be quiet when you make a mistake, but that doesn't mean that it'll make me love you any less. But next time, I'll talk to Angel first, so don't think about lying to me again," she said, sticking out her tongue.

"There's not going to be a next time, because Dad is going to end me."

"Connor, don't be so dramatic."

"Easy for you to say. It's not like your dad's going to... you know... you."

"Connor, my dad knows where I am, and I'm not drunk," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

Once outside the hotel, the officer knocked on the door as Connor barely remained upright. Angel, of course, had already sensed them and was waiting for them.

Angel had thought about greeting Connor with a good spanking, but seeing the state that his son was in, he settled for just tossing him over his shoulder.

"Thank you very much for bringing my son home, officer," he said.

"Aren't you a little young to be his father?" the officer asked, intrigued by Angel's youth.

"My parents said the same thing, but well, biology is simple."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pry, but I have to make sure that the boy is returned to his parents."

"Officer Smith, it's just Connor and me."

"And Fred and Gunn and whoever else feels like they have the right to tell me what to do," Connor griped from Angel's shoulders. What he didn't realize was that his bottom was within perfect reach of the hand of his father, who gave him two hard smacks right on the center of his little behind. "Ouch, that hurt!"

"Silence, Conn, before you make me mad."

"Silence, Conn. Shut up, Connor. That's the only thing that they ever say," Connor continued, but this time Angel just let him complain.

"Excuse my son's behavior. He'd never had alcohol before, and I assure you he won't do it again."

"I hope so. It's such a shame when we lose kids because their parents can't control them."

"I understand perfectly. I'm a private detective, and I've seen everything. Tonight before I went to work, my son was sleeping, and when I got home he was gone. So, Conn, I think I'm going to have to hire a nanny to watch you while I'm at work."

"No, Daaaad," Connor said, half asleep.

"Thank you very much, officer, and I apologize, but I should put my baby to bed now," Angel said.

"Go ahead. And if there's ever anything else, I'll bring him back to you."

"Ohhh, no. For the sake of his butt, this better not happen again."

"I hope not. Now I'm going to take the girl to her father at the hospital."

"You have Francisca in the patrol car?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you ask her father if you can leave her here?" Angel suggested. "Chris has the night shift."

"I'll ask him." After the officer called Christopher and he agreed, he left Francisca at the hotel.

"Fran, I'm going to put Connor in his bed and then I'll be back," Angel said, leaving her in the living room.

Once Angel returned, he made her something to eat, and they sat down to talk.

"Angel, I'm really sorry to have gotten Connor into trouble," she said.

"Conn's a big boy. He decided to lie."

"Yes, but I imagine the shock you got when you didn't find him at home."

"Yes, but Connor can defend himself."

"I promise that next time I'll ask you if he has permission to go out or not."

"Thank you... In many ways, Connor is still just a boy. He's only been living here a little more than three months. He was raised in a hell dimension, but you know how life is here. Connor doesn't want to look like a kid in front of you. He didn't ask my permission because he knew that I would say no, and he didn't want to run the risk of me staying here with him to keep him from going out. But hey, I appreciate that you worry about him. Now it's time for you to go to bed."

"Good night, Angel. Can I go by and say goodnight to Connor?"

"Sure."

In Connor's room (with no door, and after his escape, protections on the windows), Connor was sleeping tangled up in the sheets and looked like a cute little boy. Fran gave him a kiss goodnight.

"I love you, Connor. Sleep well," she said as she left the room.

The next day, Connor awoke with a headache that was killing him. He dragged himself to the dining room, where he found his girlfriend helping Fred with the table.

"Houdini's up," Angel said.

"Who?" Connor asked, squinting.

"A magician, son."

"A witch?" he asked, frightened.

"No, baby. An illusionist. A person who does things that appear to be magic, but they're not. They're just humans."

"How?"

"I'll show you later. Now, have a seat."

Lunch was good except for the tomatoes, so much so that Connor had started to believe he wasn't in trouble. But of course, when Christopher arrived to get Francisca, he took the opportunity to examine Connor and pronounced him perfectly healthy enough to face his father's consequences.

"Connor, say goodbye to Francisca, because your visits are over."

"But Dad!" Connor complained. Francisca decided to intervene before Connor got himself into even more trouble.

"See you Monday at school, Conn," she said.

"Okay," he said, staring at the floor. "See you Monday."

When father and son were finally alone, Angel asked,

"Do you have a headache?"

"No, Dad. I'm fine."

"Good. Now get your butt to your room and wait for me."

"But Daddy..."

"Now, Connor, unless you want the spanking right here."

"No, Dad," he said, walking with his head down toward his room and cursing the fact that he had no door. Angel overheard his worries.

"Connor," he said. "Make that my room."

"Thanks, Dad. But wouldn't it be better to just give me back my door?"

"After last night, you are even further away from that possibility."

Connor waited the better part of ten minutes before Angel arrived.

"Did you have to take so long?" he asked.

"Why? Does it bother you to wait?"

"It's not very pleasant to have to wait for a beating."

"First off, it's a spanking, not a beating. Secondly, it was only the same amount of time that you were gone. You don't like waiting? Well I don't like not knowing where my disobedient son is."

"You're taking revenge on me!" he said belligerently.

"No, Connor. I only wanted you to feel a little bit of the worry that I felt at not finding you here."

"I'm sorry... It's just, I didn't want to look like a baby."

"You are a baby... You're my baby."

"But Dad, none of the other kids my age get spanked."

"Well, I'm sorry, son, but here in this hotel-house, punishments include spankings, so let's not make it worse," he said, putting his son over his lap and immediately baring his bottom.

"Dad, we were talking!" he said, kicking and trying to get off his father's legs.

SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT

"Connor Angel, don't you run off again."

"But if you won't let me go out, what do you want me to do?" he asked belligerently, which made Angel apply the spanking with a little more force.

SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT

"Don't you yell at me, Connor Steven."

SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT

"I'm sorry. OUCH! I'm sorry!"

SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT

"Daddy! Owww! No more OWww escapades!"

SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT

"Never drink alcohol again."

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"Drinking is bad! Ouch!"

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"And no more lies."

SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT

"No more OUCH lies, I swear, OW, Daddy."

Angel fixed Connor's clothes and wiped the tears off his cheeks after letting him cry in his arms.

"I just wanted to fit in," he said between sobs.

"Francisca didn't drink," Angel pointed out.

"But I didn't want to look bad in front of the guys."

"And was it worth it?" he asked, patting him on the rear to emphasize the point.

"No. Drinking is bad. It hurts the head and the bottom."

"I hope you don't forget it."

"I won't forget, believe me," he said, rubbing his butt.

"From now on, when I have to leave, I'm going to get someone to watch you."

"That isn't necessary, Dad. I won't risk another spanking."

"It'll make me feel better."

"Can it be Aunt Fred?"

"We'll see," Angel said. "Now, Connor, let's see your I.D."

"Here," he said, passing him the one Angel had given him earlier.

"No, son. The other one." He reluctantly passed it over.

"I'm sorry... Federico... but you do not look 21," he said, ripping it in half.

"But it was a gift."

"Flowers are a gift," Angel said with disgust. But upon seeing the look on Connor's face, he added, "Come here, kid," and hugged him.

"Are you still mad?"

"No, sweetheart... Let's go clear the table from lunch."

"I know I have to, but can I sleep a little first and do it later?"

"Sleep. Dad will do it for you," Angel said, leaning on the bed toward his son and giving him a kiss on the forehead.

"I love you, Dad," Connor said.

"I love you, too, son," Angel answered, shutting the door so that the noise would not wake him.