9. Only That Night

Gabrielle raised an eyebrow at her father's words. Of course, she was aware of the fact she had a grandfather, and had known he was still alive, but she simply hadn't thought she would be meeting him. At least not any time in the nearby future. Yet he was here now.. She looked at Wesley in confusion, kind of too shocked to remember what to do now. Fortunately, her "grandfather" made the first move by getting up and offering her his hand. Gaby shook his hand.

'A pleasure to finally meet you, Gabrielle.', Mr. Wyndam-Pryce Sr. said.

'Yes...it's... interesting, to meet you too.', she replied, still shocked by his sudden, unexpected appearance.

Roger stepped back, looking at his granddaughter up and down. Gaby felt the urge to say something about it, but saw the warning look on Wesley's face and wisely swallowed her witty comment.

'At least you seem to look nothing like my son in appearance.', Roger commented as he finished his 'inspection' on his granddaughters appearance.

Wesley sighed quietly, and felt like his young self again, frightened of his father, the man who seemed to have power over everything. Wesley thought he had changed, over the years he'd told himself so often that his father no longer had power over him, but now he was here, standing right in front of him, and the opposite was true. Being ignorant to his father and his aching words was a beautiful lie, but nothing more than that.

'Would you like a drink, father?', Wesley asked, to change the subject.

'Yes, thank you. After already being here for 30 minutes after a long, tiring journey, I would very much appreciate a drink.', Roger replied, disapproval of his only son sounding through in his voice.

'I just made tea. Gabrielle, would you like some too?'

Gabrielle nodded shortly and followed her father into the kitchen. 'What do you think you're doing! You can't let him talk to you, and to me, like this!', she exclaimed, an angry look upon her face. She simply couldn't understand Wesley's behaviour.

'He's my father, Gabrielle.', Wesley replied, pouring tea.

'So! Screw him! He already hurt you so much when you were young, why would you let him continue!'

Wesley let out a sigh. 'I never expected you to understand.'

'Oh no? I 'do' understand, dad. You want his appreciation. His approval. You want it so bad, that you're willing to take anything from him, hoping that one day he'll accept you as who you are.', Gaby said, in a softer voice now. She loved her father, very much, and didn't want him to be hurt. Or stepped on, in any way.

'You do understand.. I'm sorry, Gabrielle, for underestimating your psychological insight. I know you're no longer a child. It's just that when the conversation is about my father I often get carried away.', Wesley apologised.

'We'll make the best of it, all right? And when he crosses a line I'll personally kick his ass. Yes?' Gaby respected her father's choice, but would stick around personally to make sure he wouldn't get any new, fresh traumas.

'Yes.', Wesley nodded with half a smile, picking up the cups of tea and carrying them to the living-room, where his father was sat on the couch. Straight up, as always.

Wesley gave everyone their tea, the requested cream and sugars, and sat down next to Gabrielle opposite his father. 'Is mother all right?', he inquired, referring to his mother's absence during this unexpected visit.

'She stayed at home with migraine. ', Roger said, lying, because the actual reason for his wife Katherine's absence was that she didn't exactly feel the need to meet a granddaughter who had a Wolfram & Hart lawyers as a mother 'and' had also been raised by her. She had better things to do, like, lunch with her high-in-society friends. Roger, however, was curious.

'Wesley here tells me you're seventeen. What kind of school do you go to?', he inquired, addressing Gabrielle.

'Just school.', she replied, not feeling like being extremely nice to a person who had hurt, if not deeply traumatized, her father. Roger wasn't worth her liking, not in the least bit.

'Most of the seventeen-year-olds I know are a lot more polite and address their elders with respect.', Roger commented with a frown.

Gabrielle suppressed a roll of her eyes and a mean comment. 'My upright, most- meant apologies "grandfather". I attend the John F. Kennedy High School, which provides a " splendid" education as well as preparations for independence. 76 of the graduated students went to university and are considered highly developed and skilled people in the society.', Gaby quoted from the book with school rules, sarcasm dripping off her voice.

Her grandfather, apparently, didn't notice it, or simply ignored it, because he nodded approvingly at the qualities of the school.

'I assume your mother chose the school? And pays for it? ', he then inquired, not having high expectations of his son's financial well-being.

'Actually, dad picked it. They share the cost.', Gabrielle told him casually. Just as casually as Lilah was when she was about t have somebody killed. Not that Gaby was planning on having her grandfather killed, but she certainly wouldn't mind seeing him move to some other world, or dimension.

'Hm. So, you're mother, Lilah Morgan, isn't it? Where is she? ', Roger inquired, changing the subject.

'She's at work.', Wesley replied, not sure why his father wanted anything to do with someone like Lilah.

'I wasn't asking you anything , son. I asked the child.'

Gabrielle didn't bother to pretend now, she just rolled her eyes. 'She's at work.', she repeated her father's words. 'And I'm not a child.', she quickly added.

'You are a child. Now, this Lilah, I want to meet her.', Roger decided. He found he had all the right to meet the mother of his grandchild.

'Meet her?' Wesley's eyes widened. 'I'm not sure if that's such a good idea, father.' The thought of Lilah and his father meeting each other wasn't precisely a thing to look forward to. At all.

'do I look like I care about what you think? Exactly, no. And I don't. So, how soon can this happen?'

Gabrielle followed the little discussion between her father and grandfather and simply couldn't believe it, but Roger seemed even worse than her mother! Her dad was totally surrounded by two traumatising people, it seemed. Good thing he still had her.

'Eh.. Lilah's at work, often. And I don't know if she..-' ', Wesley stammered.

'How soon?', Roger repeated, not letting his son finish his sentence.

'I'm sure we'll be able to arrange something tomorrow night.', Wesley than said.

Gabrielle shared a look with her father and nodded. 'I'm sure we will. '

'Why would I be interested in, or even consider, meeting your father?', Lilah asked as she and Wesley were getting ready for dinner with Roger Wyndam-Pryce. The previous day Lilah had already agreed to meeting the man in question, but mainly because she'd been about to attend a meeting and hadn't really thought about what she'd got herself into by saying yes. But, evil or not, Lilah hated to break a promise, so here she was, in the bedroom with Wesley, getting dressed and talking as if they were some sort of married couple.

'I don't ask you to be interested, Lilah. All I ask you is to come with me and Gabrielle, and my .. nice... to my father.', Wesley said. He was glad Lilah would come, because he hated to disappoint his father.

'Fine.' Lilah had finished her hair and make-up and was now putting in her diamond earrings. 'Why is this so important to you, anyway? I don't remember you and your father being so close at all.'

'We're not, close. I don't have rather pleasant memories from my childhood with my father, and I wouldn't like to stir things up even more.', Wesley explained, nervously re-checking his appearance in to mirror for the thousandth time that evening. 'Ready?'

'Ready.', Lilah nodded, getting up from the bed, and following Wesley to the living-room where their daughter was already waiting for them.

Gabrielle hadn't bothered to put too much effort in her appearance at all, she didn't like this man a little, so why would she? The only reason she was here was her father. He seemed to want this.

Wesley watched her, and was glad she was coming too. 'You look nice.', he told Gaby, looking at the black Dolce & Gabanna skirt and red, also D&G, top she was wearing. The black high heels completed the what could be called a "Lilah-look".

Gabrielle smiled and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. 'Thanks, dad. Didn't want to overdress.'

'And you didn't.', Lilah commented. She hadn't "overdressed" herself either. She was wearing a black little dress, good for any occasion varying from dinner to funeral, and she'd done her hair in curls. Of course the killer high heels couldn't be missed.

'Shall we go?', Wesley asked, afraid that if he didn't mix in now, a discussion about clothes would start.

'Yes.', Lilah agreed, heading outside to the car.

Wesley followed and took place behind the steering wheel, and drove off when Gabrielle was in the car as well. It was a short fifteen minutes to the restaurant his father had picked himself. Not a lot was said, though. Wesley was too nervous, Lilah was too annoyed because she had better things to do, and that left Gabrielle with simply no one to talk to.

The three entered the restaurant and found Roger already sitting by a table for four. He got up as he noticed they had arrived.

'Hello, father.', Wesley greeted him, and waited till Lilah was standing next to him. 'Father, meet Lilah Morgan, Gabrielle's mother. Lilah, this is my father, Roger Wyndam-Pryce.', he introduced them.

'Nice to 'finally' meet you.', Roger said. He had prejudices, of course, because Lilah worked for Wolfram & Hart, and was connected to his son, but he couldn't deny Lilah looked, and acted, rather charming.

'The pleasure's all mine.', Lilah said with a smile, and then sat down next to Wesley. The 4 shared some small talk and ordered before Roger go to the subject. 'How come I haven't heard of Gabrielle's existence before?', he inquired with an accusing look towards Wesley.

'Well.. er..' Wesley shifted uncomfortable on his chair.

'You didn't know, because Wesley didn't even know of her existence.', Lilah took over casually. 'Before Gabrielle was born it seemed like the right thing to do.'

Roger nodded. 'It probably was. My son wouldn't have made a good father, anyway. He would have probably cowered off.'

'I'm not so sure about that. The reason why I left had more to do with me than with Wesley.', Lilah explained. Wesley was special to her, on her own way, but special. She couldn't have anyone, besides herself, talking about Wesley like that. But of course Lilah knew better than to make a scene. She handled the situation with skill and finesse.

'Right. And now you changed your mind?', Roger asked.

'Gabrielle did, actually. She wanted to meet her father.'

'And I assume now you wish you hadn't?', Roger turned to Gabrielle for the first time that evening.

'In the matter of fact, I'm very happy to know my father.', Gaby said coldly.

'Yes, well.. So you got married how soon after you returned to Los Angeles?', Roger questioned.

Wesley and Lilah exchanged a glance. 'We're not married, father.', Wesley admitted, staring at the floor.

'Not married? Yet living together?' Roger shook his head. 'I didn't expect anything else from you, Wesley.'

Lilah frowned. 'Mr Wyndam-Pryce, Wesley and I are not married because were not in love. I'm only staying at his apartment for a little while, until I found something else.', she explain calmly. Roger glared some more, clearly showing he didn't agree with the situation the least bit. Yes, he hated Wolfram & Hart, but Lilah was the mother of his grandchild, and she was not married to his son. Quite a scandal, according to him.

The rest of the night was filled with awkward small talk. Lilah had asked Roger about the Council, and that had slightly eased him, but one could hardly call this dinner fun. Therefore, Wesley was relieved to announce after dessert, that it was time to go for the three of them.

'All right.', Roger nodded, and turned to Gabrielle. 'I'd like to meet you again. Friday after noon, twelve o'clock. We will have lunch here.', he decided.

Gabrielle rose an eyebrow. Why would he want to talk to her?

'I have school then..', she protested.

'Ah , of course. I'll arrange something. Be on time.' And he walked off, leaving a startled Gabrielle behind without saying anything else.

'Come on, let's go home. You're not going on Friday.', Wesley decided, leading Lilah and Gabrielle back to the car.

An hour later, after Gabrielle had gone to bed, Lilah poured Wesley a glass of strong whiskey. He needed it.

'I thought it was over..', Wesley said as he took the glass from her. 'I thought he no longer had power over me.. but I was wrong. Every thing he said... it still hurts.' He wasn't sure why he was telling all t his to Lilah. Maybe because she was the only one here, or maybe because of another reason he didn't want to think of.

Lilah sat down next to him. She was feeling confused also, why did she feel so sorry for him? She used to laugh at other people's misery. 'I should probably say something softie-ish, like, everything will be okay. Or: this has nothing to do with you.', but we both know that's not how I am.'

'Do I, Lilah? Do I know you?', Wesley asked.

She shrugged. 'Maybe... at least you're closer to me than anyone else was before.', she softly admitted. Lilah knew very well this was turning into a softie-moment again, and she hated it. When she was with Wesley, these moments just happened to come along every now and then. Maybe she just had to accept it, as long as they didn't occur too often, and only with Wesley.

Lilah poured them both another glass of whiskey. It was a strange night, anyway.

'Are you trying to get me drunk?', Wesley asked her, frowning. However, he didn't hesitate to down the whole drink at once.

'You don't seem to mind.', Lilah commented, drinking her whisky slightly slower.

'I never said I did.' Wesley started to feel light-headed, he should watch out not to get too drunk. That would make things awkward. 'Maybe that's what I want right now, getting drunk.', he continued, pouring their glasses full yet again. Lilah didn't seem to mind, either.

'You feel bad. Because of your father. Do you hate him?', she questioned, also starting to feel light-headed.

'I don't know... I don't think so.. No, I couldn't. He's my father.'

'So? You don't pick your family.', Lilah said, rolling over to lay on the couch, too blurred out by the alcohol to notice ,or mind, that her head had landed on Wesley's lap. Both started to laugh.

'You could be a nice person, Lilah. You could seem human.', Wesley told her ,subconsciously stroking her now loosened hair.

'Sure. And I could give up my job and work in a club called "Pussycat" where I'd be a topless waitress.', Lilah joked, laughing, still.

'Not such a bad idea, perhaps.' Wesley joined in her laughter, then suddenly staring down into her hazel brown eyes, and silencing immediately.

'What?', she asked, confused by the sudden silence.

'I like your eyes.' It was really the alcohol talking now, Wesley would never tell her this if he were sober.

'You are so drunk.', Lilah laughed, tracing patterns on his chest with her fingernails. 'I wonder what your broody boss would think of this.', she teased.

'You're not quite sober either, are you? I don't care what Angel thinks about me.', he said, and suddenly, he wanted her. It was a feeling totally unexpected and weird but in the same time it made perfect sense. Wesley pulled her up and kissed her hard and passionate, and Lilah kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. That night, everything was wild and releasing and perfect and weird in the same time. Wesley didn't mind, though, because he was hurt and needed some comfort, or distraction. Or maybe, because of reasons he did not want to admit. Not to himself, not to anyone.

Except to Lilah.

Only that night.