It was Friday afternoon and Connor looked unbelievably bored. He and Spike
had been commissioned to move boxes from the Hyperion to the rooms of their
respective owners. Angel himself had started the job early in the morning,
moving all of Cordelia's things into storage before Connor could catch a
glimpse of it. It was still a very sore subject with Connor, who was still
getting over her death. Now Angel's son and Spike were taking over where he
had left off. When the initial move was made Fred, Wes, and Gunn had throw
together what was essential and had left everything else to be taken care
of at a later date. Things had been chaotic with Connor's breakdown then
Spike's arrival in ghost form that it had been pushed back but now seemed
as good a time as any to make the move official.
"You're old man's a pack rat." Spike commented as he and Connor dropped off the sixth and seventh boxes in front of the penthouse doors.
"He has everything he and Angelus ever wore and some of it is just sick." Connor replied as he dropped his box on the floor.
Spike laughed in reply. "And what are the boxes with both your names on them?"
"Those should really be called box of inappropriate baby gifts. There's tons of stuff he got for an infant that shouldn't even be in a baby's room. There's this like twenty pound fancy snow globe thing, a complete miniature hockey set, a very charred crib, and some priceless videos."
"Hockey? When did Captain Forehead take up hockey?"
"I guess it happened with that whole Buffy 'I want to be Dorothy Hamilton' thing. He tried to learn to play but failed pretty miserably."
"I can just see good ole' nancy boy on those pretty lil' skates." Spike commented doing some mock figure skater dance.
Connor giggled in reply. "I bet if we checked he probably has the evidence somewhere." Without needing further prompting Spike ripped open the cardboard carton and searching through the contents. Connor sat down, pulled a box into his lap, and followed in suit. The first few boxes were all clothes and were left in a heap but spike struck pay dirt on box number four.
"Well, well, well, looks like I found them." Spike yelled as he pulled the skates out of the box on his hands. Connor ran over to inspect.
"That's not all." He replied reaching into the box. "Check the pictures." With that Connor pulled out a framed photo of Buffy and Angel in an ice rink with him gripping onto her hands for dear life and looking majorly pissed that someone was taking a picture.
Spike laughed out loud. "Let us see what else we got." The hockey paraphernalia was soon forgotten as the next box revealed the Angelus clothing line.
Connor pulled out the top item, unfolded it and held it up. "What kind of pants are theses?"
"Those aren't really pants per say. There called chaps. There meant to be worn over pants but Angelus missed the memo somewhere down the line."
"That's not an image I needed."
"Believe me you're lucky u missed it." Spike replied tossing out a few pairs of leather pants and a thong before picking up a very old looking sketchbook. Connor peered over the vampire's shoulder as he flipped through the pages. There were literally hundreds drawings of people including several of Spike, Dru, and Darla over the years, Buffy both plus and minus clothing, A few of the AI team, one of a very pregnant Darla, a few of Connor as an infant and the last ten pages or so were of the vampire's son nearly grown. The duo was silent as they looked over the pages and were startled when the artist himself appeared behind them and cleared his throat loudly. Connor and Spike sat like two children caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
"What happened to my stuff?" Angel asked rather calmly.
"Um... hi dad we were...um?" Connor stammered clutching the book to his chest.
"Looking for your ice skates." Spike tried to fill in calmly.
Angel ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "Go on Spike. You can help Harmony file. I'll help Connor clean this up." Spike shot Connor an apologetic look as the doors of the elevator shut. "You should have asked if you wanted to look at this stuff." Angel scolded as he began to pick up things from the heap on the floor. "I don't go looking through your things now do I? You know I try to be respectful of you privacy but I feel like your getting more and I'm getting less "
"Dad I'm sorry." Connor replied pitifully still clinging to the sketchbook.
"What have u got there?" Angel asked as he looked over at his son. He walked over and watched as the boy slowly pulled the book away from his chest. Angel smiled slightly. "I was planning on showing you that one day. You can keep it if you'd like. There are a few you'd probably rather not see but I think I'm a little late for that."
"They're very good."
"When I was your age I wanted to be an artist. I told my father and he laughed in my face. Told me I was being childish. My mother bought that book for me for my eighteenth birthday. That's one of the only things I've kept over the years. I thought that was lost in the move."
"I don't need to have this." Connor replied and abruptly thrust the book forward.
"No it's yours now. I wish I had something more interesting to pass on. Other dad's have baseballs and high school jackets to pass onto their sons."
"No this is cool." Connor answered reassuringly. "Besides it's not like I have anyone to compare it to."
Angel winced at the comment then returned to gathering up his things. "By the way that was a nice thing you and Spike did for Lorne."
"It was the least we could do after we royally screwed up." Connor commented as he joined his father in picking up.
"He said to thank you both and that he loves you but refuses to ever baby- sit again."
Connor chuckled. "You know dad I'm a big boy. I can hang around this place without anyone and be alright."
"I know I'd just feel better if you'd humor me just for a little while longer."
Connor nodded and continued to repack the boxes. Reaching for the thong the gears in Connor's head began to turn. "Hey I didn't think you were big on the underwear thing." He asked holding up the garment.
"Well Angelus wasn't big on wearing it under anything." Angel told him without missing a beat. Being profoundly disturbed by that thought Connor continued to clean up in silence.
"You're old man's a pack rat." Spike commented as he and Connor dropped off the sixth and seventh boxes in front of the penthouse doors.
"He has everything he and Angelus ever wore and some of it is just sick." Connor replied as he dropped his box on the floor.
Spike laughed in reply. "And what are the boxes with both your names on them?"
"Those should really be called box of inappropriate baby gifts. There's tons of stuff he got for an infant that shouldn't even be in a baby's room. There's this like twenty pound fancy snow globe thing, a complete miniature hockey set, a very charred crib, and some priceless videos."
"Hockey? When did Captain Forehead take up hockey?"
"I guess it happened with that whole Buffy 'I want to be Dorothy Hamilton' thing. He tried to learn to play but failed pretty miserably."
"I can just see good ole' nancy boy on those pretty lil' skates." Spike commented doing some mock figure skater dance.
Connor giggled in reply. "I bet if we checked he probably has the evidence somewhere." Without needing further prompting Spike ripped open the cardboard carton and searching through the contents. Connor sat down, pulled a box into his lap, and followed in suit. The first few boxes were all clothes and were left in a heap but spike struck pay dirt on box number four.
"Well, well, well, looks like I found them." Spike yelled as he pulled the skates out of the box on his hands. Connor ran over to inspect.
"That's not all." He replied reaching into the box. "Check the pictures." With that Connor pulled out a framed photo of Buffy and Angel in an ice rink with him gripping onto her hands for dear life and looking majorly pissed that someone was taking a picture.
Spike laughed out loud. "Let us see what else we got." The hockey paraphernalia was soon forgotten as the next box revealed the Angelus clothing line.
Connor pulled out the top item, unfolded it and held it up. "What kind of pants are theses?"
"Those aren't really pants per say. There called chaps. There meant to be worn over pants but Angelus missed the memo somewhere down the line."
"That's not an image I needed."
"Believe me you're lucky u missed it." Spike replied tossing out a few pairs of leather pants and a thong before picking up a very old looking sketchbook. Connor peered over the vampire's shoulder as he flipped through the pages. There were literally hundreds drawings of people including several of Spike, Dru, and Darla over the years, Buffy both plus and minus clothing, A few of the AI team, one of a very pregnant Darla, a few of Connor as an infant and the last ten pages or so were of the vampire's son nearly grown. The duo was silent as they looked over the pages and were startled when the artist himself appeared behind them and cleared his throat loudly. Connor and Spike sat like two children caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
"What happened to my stuff?" Angel asked rather calmly.
"Um... hi dad we were...um?" Connor stammered clutching the book to his chest.
"Looking for your ice skates." Spike tried to fill in calmly.
Angel ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "Go on Spike. You can help Harmony file. I'll help Connor clean this up." Spike shot Connor an apologetic look as the doors of the elevator shut. "You should have asked if you wanted to look at this stuff." Angel scolded as he began to pick up things from the heap on the floor. "I don't go looking through your things now do I? You know I try to be respectful of you privacy but I feel like your getting more and I'm getting less "
"Dad I'm sorry." Connor replied pitifully still clinging to the sketchbook.
"What have u got there?" Angel asked as he looked over at his son. He walked over and watched as the boy slowly pulled the book away from his chest. Angel smiled slightly. "I was planning on showing you that one day. You can keep it if you'd like. There are a few you'd probably rather not see but I think I'm a little late for that."
"They're very good."
"When I was your age I wanted to be an artist. I told my father and he laughed in my face. Told me I was being childish. My mother bought that book for me for my eighteenth birthday. That's one of the only things I've kept over the years. I thought that was lost in the move."
"I don't need to have this." Connor replied and abruptly thrust the book forward.
"No it's yours now. I wish I had something more interesting to pass on. Other dad's have baseballs and high school jackets to pass onto their sons."
"No this is cool." Connor answered reassuringly. "Besides it's not like I have anyone to compare it to."
Angel winced at the comment then returned to gathering up his things. "By the way that was a nice thing you and Spike did for Lorne."
"It was the least we could do after we royally screwed up." Connor commented as he joined his father in picking up.
"He said to thank you both and that he loves you but refuses to ever baby- sit again."
Connor chuckled. "You know dad I'm a big boy. I can hang around this place without anyone and be alright."
"I know I'd just feel better if you'd humor me just for a little while longer."
Connor nodded and continued to repack the boxes. Reaching for the thong the gears in Connor's head began to turn. "Hey I didn't think you were big on the underwear thing." He asked holding up the garment.
"Well Angelus wasn't big on wearing it under anything." Angel told him without missing a beat. Being profoundly disturbed by that thought Connor continued to clean up in silence.