Sins of the Father
Chapter Seven

Author's Note: The quotes used towards the end are from Tomorrow (Angel, season 3) and Amends (Buffy, season 3) aren't mine either.

"When do I start?"

I've gone stark raving mad, Wes thought as he walked out of the hotel and headed toward the school. Absolutely crazy. What the hell is wrong with me? I've just walked straight back into it… How do I even know I can trust them? How do I even know they trust me?

He had regretted the decision almost as soon as the words left his mouth. It didn't matter if he wanted back in. He should have said he would help them out whenever they needed it. That way, his integration would have been slower, not thrown in at the deep end. Which was exactly what he had done. He was back to late nights and fights with Cordelia, research and demons. He was back where he started. Not exactly, he reminded himself. You're a different person now. Hopefully a lot stronger. If this is going to work, you've got to learn to trust them. That's where you went wrong last time, you forgot that you could trust them.

But how was he supposed to trust them again? Look how easily they abandoned him. He had also spent the last few nights imagining what it would have felt like if Angel had taken his daughter without any explanation. He had been shocked by the gut-wrenching sickness it gave him and he realised that it must have been worse for Angel. How could he be sure Angel held no grudge against him, if that was the sort of pain he went through? Trust him, he told himself. You trusted him before, remember? You could've gone back to the Council, but you chose him over that. You've done more good working with him than you ever have before. Talk to him if you're so worried, but for God's sake don't bottle it up! That's what happened last time and it's not just you that will get hurt this time.

"Dad!"

Wesley looked up and drew his shoulders away from his ears, where they had been hunched as he walked.

"Hello," he greeted Lottie. "Good day?"

"Yep," she grinned and waved to a red-headed girl and a blonde boy. "That's Hannah and Ben."

"They look nice."

"They are. Did you go and see that girl?"

"Cordelia?"

"Yes," she slipped her hand into his and gave her friends a final wave. "Did you?"

"I did."

"What happened? Where was she?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure where she was, to be honest. She doesn't remember. It was a good place, but if she returns, she cannot remember anything she learnt up there. It's a rule. But apparently, she remembers precisely two things, she was bored and she missed her friends."

"Did she miss you?"

"She said she did."

"Are we going there now?"

"Yes. Cordy had a vision about a vampire nest and Angel, Connor, Gunn and I are going to clear it out. You don't mind staying with Fred and Lorne, do you?"

"No. I like Fred. And I think Lorne's a pretty colour, don't you?"

He declined to answer, but he looked down at her and frowned.

"I have told you, haven't I, about Angel, Cordy and Lorne?"

"Told me what?"

"That Lorne's a demon -"

"I guessed that."

"Well, Cordy's also part-demon and she has visions that help us fight the bad guys."

"Oh. But she's a good demon like Lorne. What's wrong with Angel?"

"He's a… vampire."

Lottie looked at him sharply, with a look that could only be described as "You are joking, right?"

"He has a soul, you see," Wes explained. "And he fights for the good side."

"How did he get a soul?" she asked, awe evident in her voice.

"Gypsy curse," he answered.

"Why'd they curse him?"

Wes stopped and looked down at her. Seven years old and she knew all about the world, the real world. But he didn't really want to tell her that the man she quite liked had been a notoriously evil, bloodthirsty killer for over a hundred years.

"He never used to be good," he started carefully. "So he was cursed. You probably won't like me saying this, but I'll tell you when you're older."

"Is it bad?" she asked. "Is that why you won't tell me?"

"A little. But all you need to know is that he is good now, all right?"

"So he's not going to kill everyone?"

Wes chuckled and started to walk again.

"No, he's not."

He might. But hopefully, not anytime soon.

"Ok. Is Connor his son?"

"Yes."

"Was it magick? 'Cause Mum said that vampires didn't have children."

"Yes, it was a kind of magick."

"Will you tell me when I'm older?"

"Yes."

They had reached the hotel and he pushed the door open and followed her inside.

"Got any homework?" he asked.

"Math," she answered.

"Did I hear Math?" Fred called. "Need any help?"

Lottie disappeared around the front desk and handed the book to Fred with a grimace.

"Hey, English," Gunn said, grabbing his hubcap axe. "Suit up. We've got vamps to dust."

Wes nodded and grabbed a crossbow and long wooden spear. Connor waited to one side, without his trademark glower, twirling an axe with an impatient air.

"Listen, Wes, man," Gunn started. "'Bout what happened before, I'm sorry, ok?"

Wes was startled and when he turned to Gunn, his hand was stretched out. Wes hesitated before shaking it.

"Thank you. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for not telling you, for not confiding in you."

"Hey, I should've come to see you after. You're still the man that took a bullet for me."

With a grin, they exchanged the handshake that had so surprised Angel when he first saw it. Angel walked down the stairs, bearing a broadsword.

"Ok, guys," he said. "We'll take the sewers so you can make use of the daylight. I'll take the ones upstairs."

He led them to the basement, and watched as Connor and Gunn disappeared down the stairs. He caught Wes's shoulder as he made to pass. For one horror-struck second, Wes thought Angel would push him down the stairs.

Instead, Angel smiled.

"Welcome back, Wes."

Wes and Lottie had gone home a few hours before. Lorne and Connor had gone to their respective rooms and Gunn and Fred were tucked up safe in bed.

It was late and Angel and Cordelia were sitting on the couch talking. They were discussing movies, a subject Angel was entirely comfortable with as it meant he didn't have to think about the last time they had spoken, before Cordy disappeared. He didn't think he was ready to broach the subject just yet.

"You know," Cordy said, breaking the silence that had descended when their conversation about movies ended. "We never did meet up that night, did we?"

"No," he answered, somewhat nervously. "I guess we didn't. You went up and I went down. I mean, in the sense that I was in the ocean and you were," he waved toward the ceiling. "Up there somewhere."

"I remember needing to talk to you so badly…"

"Me too… I don't think I had ever been so nervous."

Unless you count now, he thought.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?" she asked.

"What did you want to tell me?" he hedged.

"I asked you first."

He looked away from her and sighed.

"Lorne kept saying stuff, ever since the ballet, I think. But before he left, he pointed out a few things…"

"The way you feel about Cordelia is pretty much exactly how she feels about you."

"So did Groo," Cordy added softly.

"I am not the one you love. He is."

"What did he say?"

"That I… I didn't love him."

"I don't know what to say, Groo."

"Tell me I'm wrong… That I should stay… That you love only me."

"Why did he think that?" Angel asked, looked back at her, brow creasing slightly.

"Because he said I was in love with you," she answered simply. "He was -"

"Lorne said the same thing. Only, I was in love with you."

"…You two are so obviously connected… - You finish each others… - sentences. You laugh at the same… - jests. When he grieves, when he is hurting… - her heart breaks for you."

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop it and the memory of Lorne's words and the feeling they evoked in him followed swiftly. Cordy's eyes widened slightly, her mouth twitching. She shifted in her seat a little and there was a pause before she finally said:

"Oh. So… Was he right?"

"I… uh… Was Groo right?"

She lowered her gaze and took a deep breath.

"Yeah."

"So was Lorne."

She looked up sharply and he had a tentative smile on his face. Hopeful yet not allowing himself to think maybe something would happen.

"Angel?" she said softly, leaning toward him. "Where do we go from here?"

"Well," he answered, also leaning toward her. "I was thinking about kissing you…"

"Oh? Good plan."

Their lips met in a soft, hesitant kiss. But it soon became more heated as she slipped her arms around his neck and his arms tightened around her waist. She had no idea how she ended up in his lap with her denim clad legs either side of him. It was she who pulled away, breathless and giddy.

"We can't go any further," she gasped.

"I know," he answered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she dropped a brief kiss on his lips and pulled away before it developed. "We can… be together without that. Right?"

He was doubtful. But with her in his lap, her hands loosely around his neck, he didn't have the will to say no. He remembered a time when he admitted how desperately he wanted to get lost in someone.

"It told me to kill you. You were in the dream. You know. It told me to lose my soul in you and become a monster again."

"I know what it told you. What does it matter?"

"Because I wanted to! Because I want you so badly! I want to take comfort in you, and I know it'll cost me my soul, and a part of me doesn't care."

But that had been Buffy and this was Cordelia. God, if he couldn't make it work with Buffy, how could he make this work with Cordy? Because I can't lose someone I love again, he told himself. This time, I'll make it work because I know how much it will hurt if I don't at least try. This will be enough. We'll make it enough.

"Right," he answered.

She smiled and kissed him once more, before sliding out of his lap and climbing the stairs to her room. He merely sat on the couch and stared around the darkened lobby.

This won't end well… a tiny voice in the back of his mind warned.