Chapter Eight

Spike had eventually succumbed to sleep later that morning. Layla looked over at him, momentarily distracted by her thoughts. Then she looked up, as if listening to some inner voice, and phased out.

Connor had watched the conversation between his father and the man named Bartleby from the staircase. He felt a bit embarrassed to be peeking around a corner, and was not the least bit stunned when his father did not let the man in the house.

"What about my son?" he asked his arms folded in front of his chest. Connor smiled, thank god for parent radar.

Bartleby smiled nervously. "Perhaps we should discuss this inside? It's nothing bad I assure you."

Mr. Riley did not budge. "Look, I don't know you, but I do know better than to invite strange men into my house."

'Go Dad!' Connor thought, and once again was glad Angel had insisted on his parents learning the rudimentaries of the demon world. For Connor's sake he had said.

The Englishman hands fluttered around him nervously. He had been unprepared for such hostility. "I have been instructed to seek Connor out. I work for a group that has been on the look out for special people like him. We know of his ...well...greater than normal strength and speed." He took a step back as Mr. Riley took a step forward. The anger was barely contained on the older man's face.

"How do you know of my son's ...abilities?" he stated flatly.

"Well we have been observing his activities for sometime, and we ..."

"Let me get this straight," Mr. Riley interrupted, "You have been following my son around watching him?"

"Why yes. We had to, to make sure if he indeed possessed the skills...."

He didn't finish his sentence. The older man erupted.

"How dare you! Get out of here, before I call the police!"

Connor moved behind his father.

"Please let me explain. It's not what you think. We are not here to anyway hurt your son. We believe he is a ...well ... slayer."

Connor's eyes went wide. "A what?"

Mr. Riley jumped at his son's voice. "Connor..."

Connor started laughing. "You have been following me around, taking pictures, cuz you think I'm a ...slayer!" He collapsed into a fit of it.

"Connor, you knew about this?" The older man looked at his son, who was sitting on the floor laughing his head off. "Why in heaven's name didn't you tell me or your mother?"

Connor looked up at his father, and the laughing quieted as he saw how concerned his father was. He stood up, and shrugged a bit ashamed. "Figured I could handle it. I didn't want to worry you."

Bartleby was watching the exchange with a look of surprise on his face. "You know of the slayers?" he asked Connor.

Connor looked at him with barely restrained irritation. "Of course I do. You've got me all wrong. For a start, slayers are girls."

"Yes, well due to the recent influx, we hypothesized based on your skill level that you were the start of a whole new line. A male line."

Mr. Riley looked at Bartleby in shock. Connor sighed.

"I'm not a slayer. So, you and your friends in suits can just go home, ok?"

Bartleby looked at him patronizingly. Mr. Riley looked concerned.

"It makes a kind of weird sense, Connor," he said.

"No Dad. I am not a slayer. I can't explain right now, but I'm not."

His Dad knew when not to push him, and this was one of those times. He had been acting very oddly the past few days, but that was something they could work out later.

"Forgive me Connor, but how can you know this. We are trained professionals on dealing with slayers. We have devoted our lives to know what is and isn't one."

Connor could not take the smug look on his face one more minute. He stalked toward the Englishman, and grabbed him by the lapels. "Look Dress for Less, don't presume to tell me ever what I do and don't know. Now I suggest you leave, before I exhibit some of my special tendencies on you."

Bartleby blanched, and backed slowly away as soon as Connor let him go. When he reached his car, he looked at Connor one last time. "We could have helped you. Made you great beyond your dreams." Connor glared at him, and he hurriedly got in his car and left.

Connor turned, and looked at his father. Mr. Riley looked stunned for a moment the receding car, then back at his son. "Connor, do you know what is going on?"

"No, Dad." Connor turned and looked down the driveway. "But I intend to find out."