The Devil's Advocate
Chapter 1
By Vixen
The hushed conversation caught Connor's attention as he walked down the stairs of the hotel. It wasn't any of the usual occupants of the hotel; he had grown to learn each of their voices during the last few days he had been staying there. It was a man speaking; obviously not Illyria and it did not have the English accent Spike's voice possessed.
The man who was speaking quieted. There was a moment of silence, allowing Connor to move a few more steps down. Hiding out of sight, he leaned on the stair balcony, craning an ear towards his father's office. Angel was talking now; saying something about how he would not accept the offer the other man had presented to him.
Connor fought the urge to sneak down by the door of the office, and remained hidden on the stairs. It sounded serious; not something he should interfere in. That didn't mean he couldn't eavesdrop however.
The stranger's voice sounded again, louder this time; "I will ask you one more time to consider this proposal carefully. It's just one little fight; win it and you would gain back your Shanshu. You would have the chance to become human again. We have the contract at our office. It's on the table, the prize should you choose to accept the challenge. We'll give you till tomorrow to decide."
Something pounded against the wall, and Connor ducked out of view. A second later and his father came out of his office, holding the man by the cuffs of his jacket, "Let me make this clear to you. My answer is no." Angel chucked the stranger backwards. "I am not participating in your death match, so take the hint and get out of here. While you still can."
Brushing himself off, the suited gentleman responded, "As you wish. Though, you do know that without retrieving the contract from us, there is no way that you will ever become human. You'll live and die a vampire, and then burn in hell. Enjoy yourself, Mr. Angel."
The man left in a huff, while Connor shut the thoughts his words had brought up out of his head. Hell. Eternal damnation. He wouldn't wish that on anyone, well, maybe just his old high school math teacher who quite possibly could have been a demon, but not his father.
Angel clenched his fists, bottling up his anger, though he looked like he might explode and punch a hole through one of the walls soon. He cocked his head towards the stairs and then walked over to them, only to find Connor slowly creeping back up the stairs. "You're going to have to try harder than that if you want to spy on me."
Connor turned around, faking an innocent expression, "I wasn't doing anything."
"Right," Angel grunted and then returned to his office.
Connor followed him into the cave of solitude he'd made of his office. The boy had been staying at the hotel ever since summer break at college. He'd told his other set of parents that he was going on a two month road trip vacation with friends, not knowing how to explain this other part of his life to them. Ever since he had arrived at the Hyperion however, his father had kept to himself, alone with the grief that had followed the battle with the Black Thorn. Connor almost felt guilty over having asked if he could stay there, but he'd also wanted to get to know his father again. It was a miracle they were both alive by this point, and Connor didn't want anything else to ruin it. "So, um, who was that guy."
Angel busied himself with paperwork, another endless case for Angel Investigations that was going nowhere fast. With only Spike, Illyria, and himself working in the private agency, the case files had been piling up, lacking the management Wesley had brought to the team. Answering Connor's question he said, "No one important. Just a.. client."
"Riiight, yeah, okay," Connor sat down in a chair that occupied the other end of the office. The old leather creaked, it had a sense of history, all the furniture in the hotel did. So did the people who inhabited the place. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back, starring up at the ceiling absently as he heard his father still shuffling papers, "Fill me in: When did we go back to the lying part of our relationship? I thought we had decided to be truthful with one another, but hey, if you can't tell me, then I'll deal. I may have to chuck you back into the ocean to get over it, but I'll deal."
Angel starred at him for a moment, half believing him, before seeing the smirk on Connor's face, "I really wish you wouldn't joke about that."
"And I wish you wouldn't lie to me." Connor straightened up, his hands falling back down to his lap. Were they going to play this game forever, hiding under excuses and lies? It was a road he had no intention of walking down, therefore he had no problem stepping on his father's toes, just this once, and beginning what he knew what bound to turn into another one of their famous arguments.
Angel closed the black binder he had been sorting through, and placed it back down on the mahogany desk. A sigh escaped his lips, as he searched for a proper explanation, "The man who was just here was a promoter for an underground boxing ring. He wanted to set up a match between one of his champions and me. I told him no. End of story." He stood up from the desk. Picking up two binders from his desk, he went to put them back in the tall metal cabinet that took up the corner of the room.
"Except you left out the part about the Shanshu prophecy," Connor pointed out, knowing a half-truth when he heard one. He had learned of the prophecy a few years ago, during the summer he had stayed at the hotel with Fred and Gunn. Back then he had considered it unjustified, figuring that anything that had killed innocents for so many years did not even deserve the mere possibility of becoming human one day. Connor had thought about it a few times since getting his memories back and now it seemed like a dream, like the redemption both he and his father were searching for. But like most of his dreams, this one wasn't going to come true. "You never told me you signed it over to the Black Thorn."
Angel closed the filing cabinet, and took a beat before replying slowly; "I had to. There was no other way to earn the trust of the inner members."
"So, you just signed over your only chance at humanity.. just like that." Connor shook his head, hurt and disappointed. There was also guilt lingering in between his emotions. He knew what his role had been concerning his father's takeover of the Wolfram and Hart company. He crossed his arms and frowned, "And then when you have the chance to win it back, you won't even try. It's not like it would be that hard; you're a good fighter. You could probably kick this guy's ass, finish the whole thing, and win the damn contract back if you just tried." Connor picked up a business card from the desk, turning it over in his hands. On it was written the words 'Mr. Petrovia - Promoter, Organizer, Manager.' There was an address too, pointing to the classier part of the city. "This is the address, isn't it? Where you would show up if you gave a damn."
"This isn't up for discussion," Angel took the card from Connor, ripped it up and tossed the paper scraps into the wastebasket. The boy gritted his teeth and made an even tighter frown, watching the remains of the card drop down into the garbage. Leaving his office and the conversation simultaneously, Angel told him, "You don't understand."
"You're right." Connor said, following him back into the lobby, unwilling to let the conversation die. There were some things Connor would never understand, mainly why his father was so pig-headed sometimes. "I don't."
"It's a trap." Angel starred down at the boy, using the full sway of his parental dominance.
"It's a chance to fix," Connor paused, his voice betraying his tense emotions, "everything..." He sighed, and came back with an edge of anger, "But, no, don't do it, it might take away your reason to brood. You know, ever since Wolfram and Hart was destroyed, you've been acting like you're only half alive.."
"I am, only half alive," Angel reminded him. "Technically, undead."
Connor rolled his eyes, "That's not the point. The thing is, when I asked you if I could come visit I thought we could.. I don't know, hang out or something.." Suddenly, he felt self-conscious bringing that topic up. Bonding seemed like the furthest thing from Angel's mind at the moment. He was still grieving over Wesley and Gunn, and Connor hated to cause more trouble for him. Still, the way his father was withdrawing from the world, and him, hurt. "but you've been avoiding me the whole time I've been here. You say you're busy with work, but that's not it, is it? It's me."
He heard his father try to stop him, try to apologize, but Connor was already stomping up the stairs, headed for the room that had been set aside for him. Disappearing into the bedroom, he slammed the door behind him. Leaning on the oak wood of the door with his forehead, he sighed, "That went.. well."
There were just too many emotions bottled up inside him; he had to get them out somehow. Even if yelling, screaming and slamming doors didn't usually solve anything, it had made him feel marginally better. Turning on the radio, Connor hit the volume up to the highest number and zoned out on his bed. He picked up a weathered baseball that was sitting on the nightstand and tossed it in the air, only to catch it again with perfect accuracy. There was a plan forming in his mind, he only had to act on it. It would most likely get him in a huge amount of trouble, but that wasn't going to stop him.
When he woke up the next morning, the plan went into action. While his father was still asleep, Connor took advantage of the daylight hours and snuck into his office. He picked up the trashcan and emptied it out onto Angel's desk, luckily it had been empty save for all the pieces of the torn up business card. He sorted through the pieces, working them like a jigsaw puzzle, trying to make them fit together to reform some semblance of order that would allow him to get an address off the card.
Sitting at the desk, he played around with the scraps of paper for a few minutes, until the finished picture started to become clearer. A name. An address. After writing it down on a nearby legal pad, Connor ripped the sheet of paper he had just scribbled on and tucked it into his cargo pants. Tossing the remains of the business card back into the pail, he put the garbage can back against the wall, just like it had been before. No one would even know he had been in the office, hopefully.
He rushed past the lobby, grabbed his coat, and left a quick note for his father telling him he'd be back in a little while. Then Connor left the hotel, and looked at the address one last time. It was only a few blocks away; he could make it in a half-hour by foot. He just hoped he knew what he was getting into. The plan was not without its risks, but he wasn't about to give up on the only chance Angel had left. After all, you gotta do what you can to protect your family.
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More coming soon..
Chapter 1
By Vixen
The hushed conversation caught Connor's attention as he walked down the stairs of the hotel. It wasn't any of the usual occupants of the hotel; he had grown to learn each of their voices during the last few days he had been staying there. It was a man speaking; obviously not Illyria and it did not have the English accent Spike's voice possessed.
The man who was speaking quieted. There was a moment of silence, allowing Connor to move a few more steps down. Hiding out of sight, he leaned on the stair balcony, craning an ear towards his father's office. Angel was talking now; saying something about how he would not accept the offer the other man had presented to him.
Connor fought the urge to sneak down by the door of the office, and remained hidden on the stairs. It sounded serious; not something he should interfere in. That didn't mean he couldn't eavesdrop however.
The stranger's voice sounded again, louder this time; "I will ask you one more time to consider this proposal carefully. It's just one little fight; win it and you would gain back your Shanshu. You would have the chance to become human again. We have the contract at our office. It's on the table, the prize should you choose to accept the challenge. We'll give you till tomorrow to decide."
Something pounded against the wall, and Connor ducked out of view. A second later and his father came out of his office, holding the man by the cuffs of his jacket, "Let me make this clear to you. My answer is no." Angel chucked the stranger backwards. "I am not participating in your death match, so take the hint and get out of here. While you still can."
Brushing himself off, the suited gentleman responded, "As you wish. Though, you do know that without retrieving the contract from us, there is no way that you will ever become human. You'll live and die a vampire, and then burn in hell. Enjoy yourself, Mr. Angel."
The man left in a huff, while Connor shut the thoughts his words had brought up out of his head. Hell. Eternal damnation. He wouldn't wish that on anyone, well, maybe just his old high school math teacher who quite possibly could have been a demon, but not his father.
Angel clenched his fists, bottling up his anger, though he looked like he might explode and punch a hole through one of the walls soon. He cocked his head towards the stairs and then walked over to them, only to find Connor slowly creeping back up the stairs. "You're going to have to try harder than that if you want to spy on me."
Connor turned around, faking an innocent expression, "I wasn't doing anything."
"Right," Angel grunted and then returned to his office.
Connor followed him into the cave of solitude he'd made of his office. The boy had been staying at the hotel ever since summer break at college. He'd told his other set of parents that he was going on a two month road trip vacation with friends, not knowing how to explain this other part of his life to them. Ever since he had arrived at the Hyperion however, his father had kept to himself, alone with the grief that had followed the battle with the Black Thorn. Connor almost felt guilty over having asked if he could stay there, but he'd also wanted to get to know his father again. It was a miracle they were both alive by this point, and Connor didn't want anything else to ruin it. "So, um, who was that guy."
Angel busied himself with paperwork, another endless case for Angel Investigations that was going nowhere fast. With only Spike, Illyria, and himself working in the private agency, the case files had been piling up, lacking the management Wesley had brought to the team. Answering Connor's question he said, "No one important. Just a.. client."
"Riiight, yeah, okay," Connor sat down in a chair that occupied the other end of the office. The old leather creaked, it had a sense of history, all the furniture in the hotel did. So did the people who inhabited the place. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back, starring up at the ceiling absently as he heard his father still shuffling papers, "Fill me in: When did we go back to the lying part of our relationship? I thought we had decided to be truthful with one another, but hey, if you can't tell me, then I'll deal. I may have to chuck you back into the ocean to get over it, but I'll deal."
Angel starred at him for a moment, half believing him, before seeing the smirk on Connor's face, "I really wish you wouldn't joke about that."
"And I wish you wouldn't lie to me." Connor straightened up, his hands falling back down to his lap. Were they going to play this game forever, hiding under excuses and lies? It was a road he had no intention of walking down, therefore he had no problem stepping on his father's toes, just this once, and beginning what he knew what bound to turn into another one of their famous arguments.
Angel closed the black binder he had been sorting through, and placed it back down on the mahogany desk. A sigh escaped his lips, as he searched for a proper explanation, "The man who was just here was a promoter for an underground boxing ring. He wanted to set up a match between one of his champions and me. I told him no. End of story." He stood up from the desk. Picking up two binders from his desk, he went to put them back in the tall metal cabinet that took up the corner of the room.
"Except you left out the part about the Shanshu prophecy," Connor pointed out, knowing a half-truth when he heard one. He had learned of the prophecy a few years ago, during the summer he had stayed at the hotel with Fred and Gunn. Back then he had considered it unjustified, figuring that anything that had killed innocents for so many years did not even deserve the mere possibility of becoming human one day. Connor had thought about it a few times since getting his memories back and now it seemed like a dream, like the redemption both he and his father were searching for. But like most of his dreams, this one wasn't going to come true. "You never told me you signed it over to the Black Thorn."
Angel closed the filing cabinet, and took a beat before replying slowly; "I had to. There was no other way to earn the trust of the inner members."
"So, you just signed over your only chance at humanity.. just like that." Connor shook his head, hurt and disappointed. There was also guilt lingering in between his emotions. He knew what his role had been concerning his father's takeover of the Wolfram and Hart company. He crossed his arms and frowned, "And then when you have the chance to win it back, you won't even try. It's not like it would be that hard; you're a good fighter. You could probably kick this guy's ass, finish the whole thing, and win the damn contract back if you just tried." Connor picked up a business card from the desk, turning it over in his hands. On it was written the words 'Mr. Petrovia - Promoter, Organizer, Manager.' There was an address too, pointing to the classier part of the city. "This is the address, isn't it? Where you would show up if you gave a damn."
"This isn't up for discussion," Angel took the card from Connor, ripped it up and tossed the paper scraps into the wastebasket. The boy gritted his teeth and made an even tighter frown, watching the remains of the card drop down into the garbage. Leaving his office and the conversation simultaneously, Angel told him, "You don't understand."
"You're right." Connor said, following him back into the lobby, unwilling to let the conversation die. There were some things Connor would never understand, mainly why his father was so pig-headed sometimes. "I don't."
"It's a trap." Angel starred down at the boy, using the full sway of his parental dominance.
"It's a chance to fix," Connor paused, his voice betraying his tense emotions, "everything..." He sighed, and came back with an edge of anger, "But, no, don't do it, it might take away your reason to brood. You know, ever since Wolfram and Hart was destroyed, you've been acting like you're only half alive.."
"I am, only half alive," Angel reminded him. "Technically, undead."
Connor rolled his eyes, "That's not the point. The thing is, when I asked you if I could come visit I thought we could.. I don't know, hang out or something.." Suddenly, he felt self-conscious bringing that topic up. Bonding seemed like the furthest thing from Angel's mind at the moment. He was still grieving over Wesley and Gunn, and Connor hated to cause more trouble for him. Still, the way his father was withdrawing from the world, and him, hurt. "but you've been avoiding me the whole time I've been here. You say you're busy with work, but that's not it, is it? It's me."
He heard his father try to stop him, try to apologize, but Connor was already stomping up the stairs, headed for the room that had been set aside for him. Disappearing into the bedroom, he slammed the door behind him. Leaning on the oak wood of the door with his forehead, he sighed, "That went.. well."
There were just too many emotions bottled up inside him; he had to get them out somehow. Even if yelling, screaming and slamming doors didn't usually solve anything, it had made him feel marginally better. Turning on the radio, Connor hit the volume up to the highest number and zoned out on his bed. He picked up a weathered baseball that was sitting on the nightstand and tossed it in the air, only to catch it again with perfect accuracy. There was a plan forming in his mind, he only had to act on it. It would most likely get him in a huge amount of trouble, but that wasn't going to stop him.
When he woke up the next morning, the plan went into action. While his father was still asleep, Connor took advantage of the daylight hours and snuck into his office. He picked up the trashcan and emptied it out onto Angel's desk, luckily it had been empty save for all the pieces of the torn up business card. He sorted through the pieces, working them like a jigsaw puzzle, trying to make them fit together to reform some semblance of order that would allow him to get an address off the card.
Sitting at the desk, he played around with the scraps of paper for a few minutes, until the finished picture started to become clearer. A name. An address. After writing it down on a nearby legal pad, Connor ripped the sheet of paper he had just scribbled on and tucked it into his cargo pants. Tossing the remains of the business card back into the pail, he put the garbage can back against the wall, just like it had been before. No one would even know he had been in the office, hopefully.
He rushed past the lobby, grabbed his coat, and left a quick note for his father telling him he'd be back in a little while. Then Connor left the hotel, and looked at the address one last time. It was only a few blocks away; he could make it in a half-hour by foot. He just hoped he knew what he was getting into. The plan was not without its risks, but he wasn't about to give up on the only chance Angel had left. After all, you gotta do what you can to protect your family.
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More coming soon..