CHAPTER THREE
"And once again you're late getting out of here." Connor sat on the edge of the pool table, watching Angel finishing dressing.
"I'm not late. We still have two hours to get to the State Theatre," Angel said, straightening his tie.
"Nice pin stripe, Dad. With that thick neck and mop of hair, you look like a mobster."
"I don't have a thick neck. You only think so because you are a noodle neck." Angel cast an irritated look at his son. "And don't let Jess hear you bad mouthing Italians, or I'll find you strung up by your cagliones. And I'll be more inclined to laugh than help."
Connor snorted. "Didn't know you spoke Italian."
"I'm fluent in many languages," Angel said, just not the one that translates to teen aged boy so I can make my son hear me.
"So, you planned the date. Where you taking Buffy? A play?" Connor played with the pool balls, rolling them along the felt.
"Ballet. Buffy likes dance so I thought I'd introduce her to dancing I like."
"Good luck with that." Connor rolled his eyes. "The sick part is I wouldn't mind going with you. That's you with your spell, isn't it? Making me want to watch ballet?"
"It's good for you."
Connor shrugged, poking at the eight ball. "I actually don't mind it much. It's kinda nice to have interests. I've been sifting through the new memories picking things that still suit me and dumping others that don't. Xander's helping me develop my inner geek."
"Do not emulate Xander." Angel smiled thinly. "But I'm glad you're able to sort it out. I hope it's not too confusing or overwhelming for you. Connor, we need to talk some time, really talk." Angel found himself holding his breath like he actually needed to breathe as he studied his son's face. What would he do if Connor rebuffed him now?
Connor ruffled his blue hair. "I know but not tonight. You're late. Shoo."
"You and Faith...do I need to hose you down?" Angel smirked at him.
"Drop dead, oh wait, you already have." Connor coupled a shoulder shrug with the eye roll. "Besides we're going shopping. Oh, you'll owe Giles money. He's funding the trip."
"Don't hurt me at the mall, Connor."
Connor waved a hand at Angel's suit. "Sure Mr. Armani, I'll be kind."
"This is not Armani." Angel eyed him sourly. "Think sale."
Connor feinted at him with a pool stick. "I thought it was the Scots who were cheap."
"I'm not cheap. I'm frugal and leave me alone," Angel said, wondering if his son had a gene that forced him to irritate his father. If so, Angel knew where he got it from. For a moment Angel actually felt sorry his own father.
"I will once you're gone. Get moving." Connor poked him lightly in the chest with the stick.
Angel couldn't help the nervous quiver that raced up his spine. One misstep, one flare of temper and he could be dead like that. "I haven't put on my cologne yet."
"Like she'll notice." Connor made a face. "Oh, wait, it's Buffy. She'll notice. Yeah, better spritz yourself."
Angel's eyebrows raised. "Are you saying Buffy's vain?"
"No vainer than you. It must kill you not to be able to see your face." Connor smirked, a wicked look in his eyes.
Angel pouted as he put on some cologne. "I'm not vain. There's a difference between vain and taking pride in your appearance. Spike is vain. I take pride in my appearance and you...you're just a shame."
"No, I'm a guy. You are a peacock. I'm surrounded by them." Connor shuddered. "You, Spike, Lorne."
"Don't lump me in with Lorne and maybe we're not the problem. Ever consider the problem is you?" Angel asked wearily.
Connor shook his head. "I'm pretty sure it's you." He whapped Angel lightly on the butt with the stick.
"You know, Connor, I'm not the only one who can get seriously hurt if he's impaled on that thing." Angel smiled flatly.
Connor laughed. "Like to see you take it from me, old man. You'd have to get all mussed up to do it and we both know you won't risk that."
Angel's eyes narrowed, as he began to wonder if those damn gypsies didn't have a hand in Connor's creation some how. "Don't tempt me."
"If you'd just move, I wouldn't have to."
Angel sighed. "I'm not asking how I look this time. If something's wrong, you probably had a hand in it." Angel went to the living room to find Buffy was waiting for him. She wore a simple silk sheath dress in a beautiful shade of rose. He smiled warmly. "You look lovely."
Buffy came to his side and kissed him. "Why does your son have a pool stick leveled at your back?"
"He's going to kill me if we don't hurry along," Angel replied.
Buffy grinned, taking his hand. "We can't have that."
"Have fun you two," Connor said. "Try to at least approximate something Faith and I would do."
"If we did that in public, you'll be bailing us out," Buffy said, pulling Angel along. "He's still being a brat?"
"I heard that!" Connor shouted through the front door.
"I think he's taking brattiness for credit at Case Western," Angel said woefully as he went and opened the door on Giles' car for Buffy.
"I think he's earning an A plus."
Angel snorted as he got into the car. "Well, he'll be Giles' problem tonight. I guess your Watcher is taking Connor and Faith shopping."
Buffy made a face. "You let your son, who's already married to wearing nothing but the color of dirt, go to the mall with Giles who thinks everything should be made from tweed?"
Angel shrugged. "If he looks like an idiot, it's not my problem. After all, I'm a peacock so what do I know?"
Buffy eyed him. "Do I even want to know?"
"My son thinks we're both vain."
"Can I kick his butt some more when this date's over?" Buffy's eyes twinkled.
Angel beamed. "By all means."
Angel drove downtown and found a spot to park in the Playhouse Square Centre's dedicated parking garage. All jokes about Cleveland being the Mistake on the Lake, Angel liked that it had a world class symphony and ballet. The Playhouse's theatres shared one grand building had plenty to keep him busy. Buffy's head craned around as she took in the opulent setting.
"What are we doing tonight?" Buffy slid an arm around him.
"The Cleveland ballet is performing. I thought you'd enjoy this. You like figure skating. This is just as graceful...only no ice." He smiled but saw the worried look in her eye.
"I've never seen a ballet before." Her brow beetled. "You like ballet?"
"I love it. Even as Angelus, I loved it," he admitted, heading for the Will Call booth. "At this late date, I couldn't get us the best seats, I'm afraid, but we should still have a good view."
They got their tickets and Angel led her to the mezzanine. Buffy looked around at the murals and the ornate chandeliers. "It's really pretty in here."
"It's a beautiful theatre," Angel said, settling back. He wondered briefly at his choice as he suddenly remembered the last time he had been to the ballet and the things that had happened with Cordelia. It was almost exactly like what had happened to him and Buffy back when he was Angelus when he had been possessed by that woman's ghost. Maybe he shouldn't have done this but the fact that it hadn't crossed his mind until now about Cordelia should indicate just how far in the past that was. It was something he never wanted to reconnect with even if his friend was still alive.
It was nice to just sit and hold hands with Buffy in the dim lighting as the orchestra warmed up in the pit. She kissed him once but seemed inhibited by the fact the theatre was packed. That was fine, too. He wasn't a great fan of public displays of affection. That was more Angelus' thing. Once the curtain went up, Angel was enraptured by the dance but as it went on he slowly became aware that Buffy wasn't. She shifted in her seat and fidgeted about, all signs of her growing boredom.
It felt like a kick in the gut. She wasn't enjoying his date any more than he had enjoyed hers. How could they love each other so much if they didn't know the first thing about each other? Surely if they really did love each other he would know ballet might bore her and she would have known how much he hated to dance. What else didn't they know about each other? What did they actually know? Angel sifted through the years he had known Buffy, trying to pluck out what he knew about her beyond the way she made him feel. All he knew was she liked ice skating, talked to a stuffed pig and had once kept a diary in which she had written about him. She was the best Slayer he had ever seen or even heard of, and she was very loyal to friends and family.
Losing her had nearly killed him but that aside what else did he know about her? He knew how to hurt her but did he know how to bring her joy? Self-doubt blossomed inside of him. He was so good at destroying but was he at all capable of building anything, let alone a relationship? The ballet dulled down to the slap of leather soles on the rosined floor, the music somehow muted in his heart. All he saw was his own failings.
Buffy got up beside him and only then did he realize they were at intermission. She smiled down at him. "Want to stretch your legs?"
He nodded listlessly. "Do you want a drink? I think the bar is serving."
Buffy shook her head as they went out into the lobby. Indeed, the bar was serving. "No. I can only imagine the line to the ladies room in this place. You'll be seeing me sometime tomorrow if I take in any fluids."
"Are you bored, Buffy?" he asked bluntly. "I don't think you're enjoying this."
Her lips thinned and she looked annoyed. Whether it was annoyance over him asking or her being so transparent he didn't know. "It's a little slow but it's not bad. I mean, you're enjoying it, right?"
He shrugged. "I wanted you to enjoy it, too. I guess my big idea of us planning dates for each other has been an unmitigated disaster," Angel said bitterly, almost hoping to see Connor and Faith showing up out of the blue again to rescue them from themselves.
Buffy's eyes misted as she took his hands. "Don't say that, Angel. It's not so bad. This is my first ballet. Maybe it'll grow on me. I just don't get why they tell us a whole story in the program booklet when we don't get to see it on stage."
"Oh, but we do, Buffy. You just don't know how to follow it," he said, quickly, seeing a way to rescue the date. "I'm sorry. I should have explained how to read the sign language. That would make it easier." He stroked a hand along the side of her face, feeling her soft hair under his hand. "That means 'you're beautiful'."
She smiled thinly. "Tell me more."
Angel told her all he knew about how to read the dance to get the story. They went back to their seats but his hope of her enjoying it was dashed once the second act started. Buffy fell asleep on his shoulder, leaving him with a shattered self-esteem. He knew he was being ridiculously insecure but he had promised himself now that he almost died for real that he'd repair all the problems in his life. He'd talk to Connor and he'd show Buffy how much he still needed her and he'd be a better friend to everyone. He had yet to really talk to his son. With every step, all he could see was how different he and Buffy were and that left him with nothing for his friends.
"Mr. Angel?" a voice said softly.
Angel looked over startled. Buffy woke up as he twisted in his seat to get a better look at the usher. Mr. Angel? Why had he kept that stupid appellation Wolfram and Hart had hung on him or had Fred and Cordy started it? Didn't they put that on Connor's birth certificate? What did it matter now. "Yes?"
"There's an urgent call for you at the box office," the usher whispered.
"I'll be right back, Buffy," he said even though he knew she wouldn't sit there waiting for him.
He was right and he was glad of it. If someone was calling them here that meant something bad happened. The ticket girl handed him his cell phone. All cell phones and pagers had to be surrendered before going into the theatre. "Angel," he said into the ridiculously small device. His face creased as he listened to Faith's voice. "No, don't worry about it, Faith. I'd rather know. We'll be right there."
"What happened?" Buffy grabbed his arm.
Angel took off away from the box office and into the corridor leading to the parking garage. When no one could overhear, he said, "Connor fell six stories out of Tower City."
"Oh, Angel! I'm so sorry." Her face lost all color, her lips trembling. Tears flooded her eyes.
He stopped to hug her, realizing she thought Connor was dead. "It's all right, Buffy. Connor's fine. It's not the first time he's gone out a window."
"He's all right?" Buffy asked incredulously.
"Faith said something about him landing on his face but Connor's tough." He flinched just a bit at the thought of what his son just toughed out. "It takes more than that to put him down."
"How did it happen?" she asked as he opened the car doors.
"A demon. It figures. Those two can't even shop without something happening," Angel snarled but the truth was he was grateful for something to kill this date. Only, he wished it wasn't news that his son had taken a serious fall.
"Did they stop it?"
"I don't know. Faith didn't say," he said tersely.
They didn't talk as he sped back to the mini-Watcher's Complex in Cleveland Heights. Angel ran into the home the men were sharing; all but him. He was still in the basement of the girls' home. Xander pointed up the stairs, leaning over the back of the couch obviously waiting for them. Angel thundered up the stairs to his son's room. Faith and Willow were busy trying to pick glass out of Connor's face and chest while the boy fussed at them.
"Connor," Angel stopped short. His son was in worse shape than he was expecting, lacerations all over his body.
"Oh, see, I told you he'd come running back. I told them not to call you. I'm fine. I just got cut up a little," Connor said, rubbing at his eye, which was swelling shut.
"You're lucky. That was a Ystialim Demon. They're particularly vicious," Giles said, coming up behind Angel and Buffy. "Faith managed to slay it but only just. Not before it sent your son out a window."
"And I'm fine. There was no need to make Buffy and Angel come back from their date," Connor groused.
"Your father would want to know you landed on your damn head," Faith said, pulling a shard of glass from Connor's shoulder. "I don't know why his neck isn't broken."
"I don't break." Connor winced. "Just once and that was the Beast. It takes more than a little fall."
"He calls this little," Willow said, taking away the basin they had been chucking glass shards into. Her hands were smeared with blood. "That's the last of the glass. I need to wash up." Willow headed out.
"Thanks," Connor muttered then turned his swollen face to Faith and Giles. "You two can go back out. I've got more babysitters than I need already."
"Uh-huh," Faith snorted, wiping her sweating brow, leaving a smear of his blood across her forehead. "Come on, Giles, help me round up the bandages."
"I'm glad you're okay, Connor," Buffy said, as everyone else left the room.
"Thanks. Sorry to ruin your date."
"It's okay. Angel and I can try again," she said.
"No," Angel said softly, shocked that word slipped out of him. Once it was there, there was no taking it back and he shouldn't. It was the right thing to do. It should be obvious to them both there was no real future for them.
"What?" Buffy's voice choked.
"Isn't it obvious, Buffy? We're just running in place. This isn't going anywhere. There's nothing there, no common ground. We should just quit now before we really get hurt," he said and watched her shatter.
Buffy didn't say anything, her lips trembling. Fat tears spilled down her cheeks. She slapped his face once and turned, fleeing. He heard her sobbing all the way through the house and out the door.
For a moment Connor just stared at him like he had lost his mind then blurted out, "How fucking stupid are you? She took care of you all those weeks, just waiting for a time when you could talk to her again and then you go and say something that deeply stupid. I know your head got crushed back in L.A. but we thought you had escaped brain damage. I guess we were wrong."
"Shut up, Connor," Angel snarled, unable to look his son in the face as he went downstairs. The house seemed miraculously deserted. No one wanted to cross his path. He heard the creak of wheels and turned to see Spike in the living room. The pale vampire curled his lip at him.
"I'm with your son. You are brain damaged," Spike said.
Angel knew he had to have heard. "I don't want to hear it from you, Spike."
"Too damn bad because you are. When your kid brought us here, all I could think about was seeing her again but when Buffy and I talked I knew it was over. We still have some kind of connection but we're not in love. She still loves you and I know it. I always did. So what gives you the right to treat her like your punching bag?" The wheelchair bound vampire rolled right up to him.
Angel never hated him more, not for what Spike had said nor even because of all he had shared with Buffy and for the depths of darkness he had taken her to, but because Spike had known the touch of her body for all those months when he himself had known it only once. Jealousy flared in him but not nearly as bright as self-loathing. He had no answer for Spike.
"She shouldn't have bothered with you," Spike said and Angel growled, tipping him out of the chair.
Angel dragged the wheelchair with him and hurled it off the porch. He didn't go back to his room. He stayed out the whole night and didn't come back until the sky started turning a golden-pink and his skin was smoking. Even that couldn't burn his shame away.
Author's Note I don't know if the State Theatre still bans cell phone like they used to a decade ago but I sure hope so.