Bad language and spanking in this chapter. Please skip it if that's offensive to you.

Angel walked right past Connor's room, forgetting he'd even sent him there. He reached the lobby before he remembered, and in a sudden bout of laziness, picked up the phone and dialed his son's room.

"Reilly's Bar and Grille," Connor answered.

"Get down here," Angel said, laughing.

"Not sure I wanna," Connor answered seriously.

"And why's that?" Angel asked.

"You gonna yell at me?"

"Guess you'll just have to come down and find out," Angel replied. "Unless you'd like me to come up there and get you?"

"No, that's okay," Connor replied quickly, hanging up the phone.

If Angel was going to yell at him, he'd rather get it over with downstairs. Spike would hear it either way, but at least he'd be further from the action in the lobby.

"Is uh … your face okay?" Connor asked, motioning toward the still prominent red mark on his dad's forehead.

"I'll live," Angel replied sarcastically.

"Do you think I was being bossy?" Connor asked sheepishly. "And/or a 'prat?'"

"I think you were eavesdropping on my conversation with Spike," Angel answered with raised eyebrows.

"Dad, you know I can't help it," Connor replied, grinning nervously. "The walls are thin, plus you gave me this super hearing and stuff."

"So it's my fault you can't mind your own business?" Angel asked mildly.

"Well … yeah," Connor answered, shrugging.

Angel sighed, defeated, and sank down into a chair.

"I think you handled it just right," he finally said, much to Connor's relief.

"Really?" he asked happily.

"Yeah," Angel assured him. "Much better than I would have."

"You didn't like, tack on any extra punishment, did you?" Connor asked warily.

"You tell me," Angel replied. "You listened to the whole thing."

"Just making sure," Connor mumbled.

"I got a phone call to make," Angel said. "And I know you grounded him and all, but after the cleaning service people leave, I think it'd be a good idea if we took our moody teenager out to get some things of his own. You up for it?"

"Yeah, sure," Connor replied enthusiastically.

Connor had been to the mall once and survived. He could do it again. He found he didn't dread the event nearly as much this time—and Spike probably wouldn't throw any ice cream cones down any aisles on this trip, either.

Angel reached for the phone. He knew there was probably nothing Willow could do for Spike, at least not without putting everything in her own life on hold and coming to L.A. to see them in person, but he still felt that twinge of guilt over not having asked her sooner. Maybe, if he put it charmingly enough, she would omit that little detail from her conversation with Spike. He grabbed for the receiver, but before he could carry out his task, the phone rang.

No one ever kept their promises to him. Typical.

It had been over a whole day now, and still no call to Willow. Angel had promised him that he would call her. He had promised! And then just because some supposed "emergency" call had come in, he'd completely abandoned his plans and gone out to fight the big evil. Well, big deal. As far as Spike was concerned, the big evil could wait.

Not only that, but babysitter Connor had been true to his word and made him stay in his room the entire rest of the day and night, even when it was being cleaned. He'd sat cross-legged and pissed off on his bed while all his stuff got dusted and his carpet got shampooed, and as much as he'd wanted to just sit there and glare silently, he'd had to speak up and stop them from pulling his garbage bags of toys out of the closet. They were going to throw away his toys! Sure, maybe he didn't want to play with them just then—er, anymore—but he didn't want them tossed into the dumpster, either.

He glanced at the clock. Ten-thirty in the morning, and as far as he could tell, Connor had neither risen nor shone yet. What happened to all those sodding rules, then? They only applied to him, and any other deals were off? Was that how it was going to go, then? Figured.

Well, Spike was hungry, and by his counts, he should no longer be confined to his room, so he stomped out, slammed his door for good measure, and went to the kitchen for breakfast.

Out of blood.

Out of blood!

How could they possibly be out of blood? Angel was a vampire! That was like a human managing to run out of every single comestible item all at once! How was that even possible?

Spike slammed the refrigerator door and spun around to find something to take his anger out on. Cereal. Connor liked cereal, didn't he? Well, he'd just see how Connor liked his whole box of cereal poured down the garbage disposal! That would send the message, wouldn't it?

He emptied every last crumb into the noisy disposal with smug satisfaction, and then poured the last of the milk in there for good measure. There. That would show him.

"What are you doing?" Angel asked sharply.

Spike jumped and spun around, trying to get the guilty look off his face and make his features blank. From the expression on Angel's face, he didn't think he'd done a very good job of it.

"What are you doing?" Angel repeated.

"I-I was … we're out of blood," Spike answered weakly.

"So you thought, if you couldn't have any breakfast, neither should Connor?" Angel correctly guessed.

Well, just when had Angel gotten so damned astute? Spike bristled, angry at himself—for being caught, but not so much for what he'd done—and crossed his arms over his chest, aiming a nasty scowl at the kitchen tile because he didn't quite dare to aim it at Angel.

Angel sighed and counted to ten in his head. He'd been out all night, and this is what he comes home to—a spiteful teenager having a hissy fit because things weren't going exactly his way. Counting to ten didn't work, so he continued on to twenty. At twenty, he still wanted to grab Spike and spank him 'til his hand hurt, but he knew that wasn't the right thing to do. It might make him feel better—hell, it would make him feel better—but that didn't make it right.

"I need to be alone for awhile," he finally said, his voice dangerously calm. "We'll talk about this later."

Spike waited until Angel's back was turned to do a silent, unflattering mimic of what his grandsire had just said, and then immediately felt a shiver of dread go down his spine as he realized that, for all his empty promises, Angel would probably keep that one.

Angel walked straight into Connor's room, yanked his son's covers back, and landed three of the hardest slaps he could manage to his son's little boxer-clad backside before Connor wiggled away in alarm.

"Dad, what'd I do!" he exclaimed, pulling his covers back up around him protectively. "What'd I do!"

Angel pointed at the clock and then pointed downstairs.

"What?" Connor asked sleepily.

Connor had no idea what Angel's problem was, but he grabbed his arm, flipped him over, and began to spank him in earnest.

"Dad, stop!" he squealed, throwing his free hand back to cover his butt. "You're hurting me!"

"Move your hand," Angel ordered, slapping him hard on the thigh.

"Ow! Stop!" Connor said frantically. "I didn't do anything! Please!"

Angel landed a few more good smacks to Connor's thighs before hauling him roughly to his feet. Connor jerked free and gracefully stumbled backwards a few feet before allowing both hands to unabashedly rub his stinging bottom.

"What was that for!" he shouted angrily, feeling all the blood in his body rush to his face.

"Did you, or did you not, make a deal with that little boy downstairs that you'd be up by 10 A.M.?" Angel asked sternly.

Connor coughed out an incredulous breath, but couldn't seem to form words. That was what this was about? Angel had given him such a rude awakening just because he wasn't up on time? Jesus.

"Well?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, but..." Connor started, "...I didn't think that still held."

"Did you make him have lights out by 3?" Angel asked pointedly.

"Well, y-yeah, but..." Connor stammered.

"If it still applies to him, then it still applies to you," Angel informed him.

"Well, you could have told me that nicely!" Connor protested hotly. "You didn't have to haul off and hit me!"

"You've needed a good reminder for awhile now," Angel said, and Connor felt the blush in his face spread to his ears and neck.

"All right. I'm sorry! I'm fucking awake, okay! Jesus!" he replied, grabbing for a shirt to put on.

"Watch the attitude," Angel warned. "I'm not in the mood."

"Clearly," Connor muttered from underneath his shirt as he pulled it over his head.

"I'm gonna lie down," Angel said. "You are going to take Spike down to Sal's. We're out of blood, and he's hungry."

"Okay, fine," Connor said, looking everywhere but at his father's face. "Whatever."

"Connor," Angel said harshly.

"Okay!" Connor replied immediately. "I'm sorry!"

Angel stormed out of the room, and Connor hastily put on some pants. He couldn't believe Angel had done that. Well, yeah, he supposed he could believe it—but he didn't like it. Much to his chagrin, it had plain hurt, both his ass and his pride.

Downstairs, Spike felt ashamed of himself. He heard what Connor was getting and knew that it was probably meant for him, and he deserved it more—maybe. He wished there were some way to get Connor's cereal out of the garbage disposal.

"Hey," Connor tried to say nonchalantly as he pushed open the kitchen door. "Sorry I'm late getting up. We're going out. Go through my closet and pick out whatever you want to wear."

"Wow, really?" Spike asked, unsure why he was so thrilled by that, but excited nonetheless. "Whatever I want?"

"Yeah," Connor answered, refusing to look him in the eye. "Just hurry. I need out of here."

Spike needed out of there, too, so he sprinted upstairs and did as Connor had bid him. Everything in Connor's closet would be a little bit baggy on him, but that was the current style, anyway.

Connor sighed and snaked a hand back to rub at his bottom again while Spike was gone. It was way too bright outside to drive safely. They'd have to walk to make sure they could keep in the shade. That was okay. Walking was good. It got the old heart pumping—well, his anyway—and more importantly, it took a long time. And at the moment, a long time away from Angel seemed like just the ticket.

Yeah, I know. Connor's way too old for that at this point. But I don't know-I think he had it coming. :D