"What do we do?" Angel asked, sounding near panic.

"What are you so nervous for?" Connor asked, laughing. "We weren't doing anything wrong. Unless you're afraid of being busted for illicit parenting."

"I'll just go," Angel said.

"Don't be silly, Angel," Connor said, rolling his eyes. "At least come say hello. It's gonna make me look suspicious if you don't. In fact, it's gonna look suspicious if we don't get out of this car soon."

Connor pulled the keys from the ignition and tossed them to Angel.

"Thanks for letting me drive," he said as he got out. "It was cool."

Connor rushed over to his parents' vehicle and tapped on the window.

"Hey, son!" his dad—other dad—exclaimed happily, getting out and hugging him.

"Is anything wrong?" Connor asked. "Where's Abby?"

"No, nothing's wrong," he assured him. "You know your sister. Can't be seen out with her parents."

"Oh, we've missed you so much!" his mother said, rushing toward him and planting kisses all over his face.

"Mom, whoa!" Connor said, laughing and pulling away. "I do have an image to maintain here."

"Sorry to just drop by like this," his dad said. "We were just out doing some errands and thought we'd come see our boy."

"No, it's fine," Connor said. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."

"Not long at all," his mom said. "We hadn't even got out to knock yet."

"Good," Connor said. "Well, uh, you remember Angel?"

Connor motioned for Angel, who was hanging back reluctantly by his car as if he might jump in and speed off at any moment.

"Of course. Mr. Angel. From that law firm," his dad said uncertainly, offering Angel his hand.

"Hello, sir," Angel said quietly as they shook hands, and then immediately shoved both of his hands into his coat pockets and looked away like a shy teenager.

"Laurence and Colleen," Connor reminded him.

"So, you two are friends?" Colleen asked, smiling tentatively as if she couldn't decide if she liked the idea or not.

"Let's go inside," Connor said, ushering them toward his apartment.

Angel stayed where he was until Connor shot him a dirty look over his shoulder and jerked his head for him to follow. He did so, but the reluctance oozed out of him.

"I'll make some coffee," Connor said once they were all inside.

"I don't know, honey," Colleen said. "It's a little late for coffee, don't you think?"

"Never too late for coffee," Connor argued.

"So," Laurence said, turning his attention to Angel, who lingered by the door, ready to bolt. "How do you... I mean, I guess I know how you know Connor. I just didn't realize you two had kept in touch."

"Yeah," Angel said lamely.

"Angel's..." Connor started, then trailed off as he realized he had no idea how he'd planned to finish that sentence.

"Connor's been uh … doing some work for me," Angel offered helpfully. Connor attempted to make what he considered the universal motion for "Stop talking right now," but it was too late.

"Sweetheart," his mother said, turning from her position on the couch to look at him. "I thought we agreed you would focus on school. If money's an issue, you should have said something!"

"Oh," Angel said awkwardly, realizing he'd made a mistake.

"It's not about money," Connor interrupted. "Angel pays really lousy, anyway."

"It was nice to meet you. Again," Angel said suddenly with his hand on the doorknob. "I'm sorry, but I have to get going."

"Pleasure meeting you again," Colleen said, standing and showing him out the door, through which he practically fled.

Connor rolled his eyes. Angel's people skills needed some serious work.

Once Angel had gone, Laurence and Colleen turned their full attention toward Connor expectantly.

"What?" he asked. "If it's about the mess, I swear I'm gonna clean it up tomorrow."

"No," Colleen said, but she looked around the living room anyway. "It's just... Why didn't you mention that you and that man kept in touch?"

"I didn't think it was a big deal," Connor said, pouring two cups of coffee and bringing them to his parents. "He's just a friend. He um... He watches out for me, you know?"

"So, he's your … mentor?" Laurence asked, giving him a funny look.

"Sure, if you want to call it that," Connor said easily, shrugging.

"How often do you meet with him?" Colleen asked, downing half of her scalding hot coffee even though she'd said it was too late for it.

"I dunno," Connor said uncomfortably.

"Look, son, if he's … taking advantage … of you in any way," Laurence started, but the look of what must have been shock and horror on Connor's face cut him off.

"No, Dad, it's not like that!" Connor exclaimed. "Honest. It's really, really not."

"Honey, you know we won't care if you're … gay," his mother said, patting him on the knee.

"Oh my God!" Connor said, laughing incredulously. "I am so not gay! And neither is he! This conversation is just so wrong in so many ways. You don't even know!"

"Well, why don't you tell us, then?" his mother asked, bristling a little. "You never tell us anything that's going on in your life anymore. What are we supposed to think when you show up with a strange man?"

"He isn't strange," Connor said. "Well, maybe a little. But he isn't a stranger. He's a friend. Am I not allowed to have friends?"

"Of course you are," his dad said. "We love that you have friends."

Those words had barely come to fruition when Spike suddenly flung Connor's door open and announced, "I brought booze!" before looking silently from Connor to each of his parents.

"Er..." Spike said awkwardly when no one spoke. "Wrong apartment! Sorry!"

It took every ounce of self-discipline that he had, but Connor kept his face blank and didn't laugh as Spike slowly backed out of his apartment and shut the door quietly behind him. He looked at his parents to gauge their reactions, but they were both still staring transfixed at the door.

"Was that Billy Idol?" his mother asked after a few moments of total silence.

"I don't think so," his father said uncertainly. "Connor, doesn't that man work at Wolfram & Hart, too? I think I remember seeing him there. Hair like that is hard to forget."

"Oh, um..." Connor stammered. "Well. No, not anymore. No one really works there anymore."

"No one works there?" his dad echoed.

"Yeah, it kinda … went out of business," Connor said, shrugging. "You know how these things go."

"Wasn't Mr. Angel the CEO?" his mother asked, the disapproval clear in her voice.

"Yeah," Connor said.

"Couldn't handle the pressure?" his dad asked.

"I don't know, Dad," Connor said uncomfortably. "Sometimes these things just happen."

"Well, Mr. Angel said you had done some work for him..." his mother said rather accusingly.

"Yeah," Connor said, making a mental note to punch Angel in the arm for that later. "He... He has a different business now. Less law firmy, more … um … investigation-centered."

"Investigating what?" his mother asked with concern. "You're not doing anything dangerous, are you? Or illegal? You'd better not be doing anything illegal!"

"I'm not doing anything illegal!" Connor assured her, shaking his head. "Just, you know, paperwork and stuff. Data entry. Boring things like that."

"Okay," she said, but her tone of voice indicated that she didn't quite believe him.

"Well, I think we'd better be going, Colleen," his dad said suddenly, getting to his feet. "It's getting late. We'd better let Connor get back to … studying."

"You don't have to go," Connor said immediately, more out of good manners than the actual desire to further entertain them with tales of his life.

"We'll see you again soon, honey," his mother said, kissing him on the forehead.

"We'll call first next time," his dad added, shaking hands with him.

"G'night, guys," Connor said as he waved and watched them until they got safely in their SUV and left.

"What was that all about?" Spike asked, suddenly dropping down easily from the railing above him.

"Jesus!" Connor said. "You scared me!"

"Were those Jehovah's Witnesses?" Spike asked, shoving a brown paper sack into his arms.

"No!" Connor said, turning to go back inside, more than a little grateful that Spike would take his mind off what had just transpired. "Those were my parents! And that was a prime example of why you should always knock, by the way."

"I think I handled it smoothly," Spike said confidently, dropping onto the couch. "Give me one of those beers."

"Yes, master," Connor said sarcastically, handing him one.

"Where's your remote?" Spike asking, digging around in the couch cushions.

"I don't know," Connor said, storing the rest of the beer in the fridge. "You're the one who's always losing it."

"I can't watch the tele with no remote!" Spike said, scowling and lifting the entire couch up to search for it.

"Go watch your own TV, then," Connor said, sounding a little more irritable than he'd meant to.

"Can't," Spike said simply as he finally spotted the coveted object underneath the coffee table. "Got it!"

"What do you mean, you can't?" Connor asked.

Spike regarded him silently for a moment, taking the opportunity to down half his bottle of beer.

"That wasn't an answer," Connor pointed out.

"Angel stole mine," he finally said after a moment.

"Angel stole your television?" Connor asked, confused. "Why? He doesn't even like TV."

"I know!" Spike agreed.

"Well, I mean, can't you just go take it back?" Connor asked.

"No," Spike replied, flipping through the channels.

"Any particular reason why?" Connor asked, equating this conversation to pulling teeth.

"Just can't," Spike said. "Now shush. My show's on."

"This is your show?" Connor asked doubtfully as he stared at whatever Japanese game show Spike had turned it to. "You had to come all the way over here to watch this?"

"Look, just get off my back, okay?" Spike snapped. "Why do you always gotta ask so many bloody questions? You're just like him sometimes!"

Connor was a bit taken aback by the sudden outburst, so he refrained from replying and just sat down quietly beside his friend, thinking about the odd situation.

"Spike..." he said tentatively after a few minutes. "Don't take this the wrong way..."

"Oh, great," Spike muttered, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Never have good words followed those ones."

"Well," Connor said, laughing. "I mean, I was just curious is all... Did Angel... Did he like, ground you from watching television?"

"What?" Spike demanded in a higher pitch than normal. "That's—what—that's just the stupidest thing you've ever come off with. And you say a lot of stupid things, what with being his child and all."

"So he did," Connor said, nodding and smirking a little.

Spike rolled his eyes and finished off his beer in one long gulp.

"Go get me another beer and maybe I'll tell you," he said.

Connor shrugged and did as he asked, and stared at him expectantly when he seemed to have forgotten his part of the bargain.

"So?" Connor prompted. "What's up?"

"Your father has gone off the deep end!" Spike said. "That's what."

"He seemed fine to me tonight," Connor said, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Fine?" Spike scoffed. "Was that before or after he whipped your arse?"

Connor blushed.

"I don't really see what that's got to do with anything," he said defensively. "It's not like this is something new for..."

Connor trailed off and looked at Spike, who looked exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Oh my God," Connor said. "Did he whip your arse?"

"No," Spike answered quickly. "And you don't get to say 'arse.' You're not British."

"I was raised by an Englishman," Connor argued, then shook his head. "Stop trying to change the subject!"

"There is no subject to change," Spike said sullenly. "Leave me alone and let's watch the tele."

"Not until you tell me the truth," Connor said, snatching the remote out of Spike's hand and turning the television completely off.

"Do you want me to pound you?" Spike asked, irritated.

"I'll tell my dad," Connor threatened, smirking.

Spike closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then a long drink of alcohol.

"All right, look," he said slowly. "A few nights ago, I... I had sort of an accident, see."

"What kind of accident?" Connor asked, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm bloody here talking to you, aren't I?" Spike asked, motioning impatiently for him to be quiet.

"Touche. Go on," Connor said.

"So I had this accident, and your dad completely overreacted—"

"Huh uh. What was the accident?" Connor insisted.

Spike rolled his eyes.

"If I tell you, will you stop interrupting?"

"Probably not," Connor admitted. "But tell me anyway."

"Fine," Spike said, defeated. "I fell asleep watching television. Happy?"

"No," Connor said. "How is that an accident?"

"Because I had a lit cigarette in my hand, and I kinda caught myself on fire a little bit," Spike said, attempting to rush through the words and make light of the situation. "So then—"

"You did what?" Connor shrieked, slapping him hard on the arm. "You idiot!"

"Ow!" Spike yelled, giving Connor a hateful look. "It was only a little fire!"

"I'm glad you're alive. Moron," Connor muttered.

"I'm not alive," Spike pointed out. "But I'm here. Anyway, that got your old man all riled up, and he rained hellfire and brimstone down on me like I was some sort of wayward adolescent."

"Did he spank you?" Connor asked point-blank.

"No, he didn't," Spike said sincerely. "But he did hear me yelling when I was trying to put the flames out, and he helped me to do that by slapping the shit out of every inch of me he could get to."

"If that had been me, I'd still be getting my ass whupped," Connor said matter-of-factly, shivering a little bit at the mere thought. "He'd go through every belt he owns and half of yours."

"Well, I'm not you," Spike said hotly. "And obviously he didn't just let it slide. When he realized what had happened, he took my television away from me. Took it clean out of my room! I don't even know what he did with it."

"Wouldn't it have made more sense to take your cigarettes away?" Connor asked.

"Connor," Spike said, giving him a pointed look. "There are some battles even Angel knows he can't win. Now turn the tele back on."

Connor sighed and flipped the Japanese game show back on just in time to see a tiny woman make an impressive dive into a vat of green goo.

"You can't really be mad at him for it, you know," he said softly after awhile. "I mean, that was a really stupid thing you did. And he'll probably let you have the TV back after awhile if you don't do anything else completely devoid of brainpower."

"While I do find your utter lack of sympathy quite refreshing, please shut up about it," Spike said.

"Where was Illyria during all this?" Connor asked.

"Standing in the doorway watching," Spike said dryly.

Connor laughed, and then he laughed even harder when he realized Spike was serious.

"She didn't help?" Connor asked when he caught his breath.

"She told Angel to slap me harder so the gift she gave me didn't incur damage," Spike said sullenly.

"Oh," Connor asked with interest. "What was your gift, anyway?"

"None of your business," Spike replied crisply. "You've done enough prying into my personal life for one night."

"Oh, come on," Connor said lightly. "I promise not to laugh."

"No," Spike repeated. "I'm not telling you. It's private."

"Okay," Connor said easily. "I'll just assume the worst, then. Dog collar. Chastity belt. Promise ring..."

"Will you can it?" Spike demanded in exasperation, pointing animatedly at the television. "I can't hear a word they're saying!"

"It's all in Japanese!" Connor said, laughing.

"That doesn't mean I don't want to hear it!" Spike exclaimed. "God!"

"Corsage," Connor continued thoughtfully. "Corset..."

"She got me underwear, all right?" Spike said, caving.

"That's it?" Connor asked. "She went all the way to Texas and brought you back underwear?"

"Well," Spike muttered. "It was boxer shorts. With a print of a Texas longhorn across the … the front."

"Across the crotch, you mean?" Connor asked, highly amused.

"Yeah," Spike admitted.

"Classy," Connor said, nodding and somehow keeping his promise not to laugh.

"I think Gunn encouraged her to get them," Spike said bitterly. "Bit of a laugh at my expense, you know."

"Yeah," Connor answered. "She wouldn't know any better."

"She's getting better at it," Spike said.

"At what?" Connor asked. "Picking out underwear?"

"Being here," Spike said simply. "Living. And besides, they are some pretty sweet boxers. You're just jealous."

"You know me so well," Connor agreed.

With that, they both fell silent and watched Japanese game shows until Connor fell asleep. When he awoke in the wee hours of the morning, Spike had gone—and the remote control was missing again.