A/N:This is different. Sorryit's been so long. Also,this is more of an interlude than anything else. Not really a chapter. It's compose almost completelyofdialogue, for those of you who enjoy the idea of them actually talking.Hope you guys are still reading.I'm also really not a fan of this new quickeditlayout. ::narrows eyes::. Anyway, I hope you'll continue reading after this chapter. I'm not really a fan,but I suppose I wrote it so why not post it.

Asphyxia

Chapter Ten

"Are we poor?"

Angel looked up from the clothing rack in surprise at his son's question.

"What?"

"Are we poor?" Connor repeated. "Financially inept? Deprived of money?" He fingered the soft material of a Gap sweater, his blue eyes lingering on the details of the thread. "Cordelia would sometimes talk about it...but everyone wears such expensive clothes." Nimbly, the price tag was plucked out of the neck and displayed to his father. "$50. Isn't that a lot for poor people?"

Angel shrugged. The going rate for the Armani pants he was presently sporting was $125. The shirt? $98. $50 for a Gap sweater seemed like a reasonable deal. Of course it wasn't reasonable for the majority of the world. There was starvation and poverty to consider. A large family could eat comfortably on Angel's pants for a week.

But Angel liked his pants.

"We're comfortable," he replied, ignoring his son's actual question. He then noticed the shirt for the first time. "Do you like that?"

"It's soft," Connor replied, ignoring his father's actual question. "And it's green."

Angel gently picked the sweater out of his son's hands and looked at the tag. After a moment's scrutiny, he placed it carefully back on the rack, glanced at his kid's disappointed expression, and picked up another.

"You're a bit too small for that one, kiddo," he quietly teased, holding the garment against his boy's small frame. "You wanna try it on?"

Connor shook his head and ducked away, embarrassed.

"I don't like trying things on."

"Sometimes when you try things on, you don't like them as much as you did when you first saw them."

"Is it too much?"

Angel raised an eyebrow, confused.

"No, I just want to make sure you want it."

Connor cocked his head, searching his father's face for secret disapproval.

"Do you not like it?"

"I like it plenty," his father replied. "I'm just opposed to spending $50 on something you're not going to wear."

"I'm going to wear it," Connor snapped, defensive now.

Angel smiled at his son's temper, reached out a large hand and smoothed down a lock of the unruly brown hair . Connor blushed, batted his hand away.

"Dad, there's people in here."

"You need pants."

"Pants are expensive."

"They're also necessary." Angel paused, noticing his son's red face. "Am I embarrassing you? You know people can't hear as well as we can and I'm being relatively quiet."

"Just being seen with you is embarrassment enough," the boy grumbled, picking up a rather detestable pair of jeans from the sale table. "These are only $20."

Angel grunted, jerked the offensive denim articles out of his son's grasp and set them back down. A few moments of fishing later, he produced what he considered to be a decent pair of $60 jeans and led the boy to the checkout line.

"Why are you so concerned about money?"

Connor shrugged.

"People hurt eachother over it. I assumed it was a big deal."

Angel frowned. "Yeah. I guess they do."

"Money is the root of all evil," Connor mused. "I heard that somewhere. If it spawns evil, we shouldn't use too much of it... right? I mean, it would be like killing a demon with a big sword, but the utilization of that big sword spawned two more demons in it's place. Then it wouldn't be good to use that sword, right?"

"It's a bit different from that, Connor," his father replied quietly.

"But it's just like that, Dad," Connor was quick to retort. "Everytime someone spends money on something useless, it could be spent on something essential for somebody who can't afford essential things. Isn't that a form of greed?"

Angel handed the sales clerk his credit card and looked at his son.

"Connor..."

"People kill for it because they can't get enough of it," Connor said softly. "It's greed and it's gluttony."

Angel scribbled his signature down on the receipt and smiled at the bewildered clerk.

"Kids these days. So concerned with morality," he said nervously, accepting the bag and slinging his free arm around his son's shoulder, leading him quickly out of the store.

"God doesn't like greed," Connor murmured as his father gently pushed him down onto a bench. "I don't understand how you can just put a price on things like that."

"Certain things are valued for quality-sake. Others, quantity," Angel explained helplessly.

"But how do you value something's worth?" Connor asked. "Isn't it greedy to spend $50 on a sweater when you could get five $10 sweaters for people who really need them?"

"A lot of people need a lot of things, Connor. You can't be completely selfless-"

"Or what if someone deserved the $50 sweater more than me?" Connor cut him off. "Why didn't you buy it for them?"

"Because you're my kid."

It was automatic and it might not have been the best response, but it was the answer that hadn't left Angel's tongue since Darla's dust had been washed away by the rain.

"That's-"

"Valid. You come first." Angel touched his son's cheek with a cold digit. "Money isn't about deserving, it's about what you can afford."

"How much do people cost?"

"I think selling people might just be illegal."

"But I'm costing you money. You just spent $110 on me. And food costs money. And-"

"And you need those things-"

"But why are you spending all of this money on something so worthless?"

Angel stared at his son.

"You're not worthless."

"I-"

"No- You're. Not. Worthless."

Connor slouched on the bench and sighed, staring at the passerby in silence.

"What's this all about, son?"

Blue eyes met brown momentarily before settling on the mall tile.

"Dr. Demon."

It was Angel's turn to sigh.

"Do I have to see him again?"

"...Yeah."

Unintentionally, Connor's foot rose and fell harshly on the ground.

"Don't like him," the boy mumbled, straightening slightly at the vampire's frown. "How much do you pay him?"

Angel groaned.

"The going rate," he said.

"What's the going rate?"

"None of your concern."

"I'll double it."

Angel snorted.

"Connor, exactly how do you plan-"

"With my allowance."

"You don't have an allowance."

"I want one."

Angel fought the urge to laugh.

"Weren't you just really afraid of being greedy?"

"Not afraid. Concerned. Give me an allowance and I'll double the going rate."

"Connor. Any allowance I would give you would not be enough to double the going rate."

"Then why are you spending so much on something I don't really want?"

"Because you might just need it."

"Don't."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Connor scowled.

"You suck."

Angel rolled his eyes.

"You need underwear."

Horrified, sharp blue eyes darted around for listeners.

"Dad!"

"No one heard."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Do."

The vampire and his kid rose to their feet to walk amongst the living.

"I'll buy you ice cream," Angel said after a moment. "You like ice cream, don't you?"

Connor mumbled something decidedly incoherent.

"What was that?"

"Yes, Dad. I like ice cream."

"Well, if you don't really want ice cream, I won't buy you ice cream."

"I want ice cream," Connor groaned.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"After the underwear."

"God, why didn't I just stay gone after you kicked me out..."

Angel took a moment to reach a hand over and ruffle the boy's hair.

"Because you're my kid."

"Unfortunately."

Gap Crew Neck Sweater: $50

Gap Boot Fit Jeans: $60

Suicidal Miracle Child Swaddled in Gap Clothing? Priceless.