Title: Table for Two
Author: frickangel
Summary: All he needed was a chance and all he wanted was a father. Father-Son bond, Number two in the 'Angel in my Arms' series.
A/N: Doesn't it bother anyone that after the events of 'Chris Crossed' Chris doesn't ever confide in anyone about what happened? Seriously, the guy's an emotional wreck of breakdown waiting to happen—which is good actually for angst and H/C fics. –Rubs hands in glee–
Oh, seeing that this is Number Two of the series, reading the first part does help with the small bit of continuance between them. Not a necessity but it does help.
Timeline: Somewhere between, 'Spin City' and 'Stormy Leather'.
Warning: Totally Un-beta'd.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own and don't I wish.

"'Future consequences?'
'More like future issues…'
'Oh, father-son problems.'"
-Spin City

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A promise was a promise.

Taking in the calm of the manor, Leo reminded himself of the words he uttered to Piper as she retreated into the safety net of Magic school.

"Besides, I'm only an orb away if the girls need me," she had flashed such a reassuring smile that he almost believed her and wanted so much to leave the complications behind.

"No," Shaking his head, the Elder knew his responsibilities, and his priorities; he had lost track on what was important to him once too many times and he swore never to allow that to reoccur, "I... told them to call me first."

"You? You're not going back up there?" Her disbelief had stung him a little if not a lot, but he knew he had deserved such doubt.

"No," Leo muttered again and smiled at his son, drawing comfort from his small yet such powerful presence. "My family needs me here right now."

Eyes focused on the makeshift notice board in the attic, Leo shook away the cobwebs of the memory and took in a deep breath. He missed her terribly and wanted her to be with him, talking to him or even making teasing but criticising remarks about how he had left them be and permitted his own son to hate him so.

Releasing the long held breath, Leo dug his hands into the pockets of his slacks and attempted to read the charts on the board. Frowning at the scribbles someone had left on a few demons' names, he couldn't quite figure out if the words belonged to one of Piper's sisters or Chris. Whoever it was, it still didn't solve the paper-thin relationship between him and his youngest. If it weren't for the biological factor, Leo had a feeling that Chris wouldn't bother to even breathe the same air.

It was a long unplanned chance for him and now was the perfect time. Paige and Phoebe were out hunting another demon and Leo knew Chris was around somewhere. The plan was to casually talk to Chris and get him to convey whatever issues he had.

Rubbing his jaw, Leo mentally prepared himself for any decking he'd get once the cards were out on the table. The boy packed a punch even without super spider-demon powers. But there was a flaw in Leo's great plan of catharsis—he needed to work up the nerve to approach his son. Sure, it seemed simple in the mind: walk up to him, smile, and let the words flow. Again, Leo also painfully knew he was no wizard in words and definitely not a man of emotional release—even for a Whitelighter.

Time was up for self-sympathy and he needed to act. It was truly a moment of now or never.

Pulses of hope, emotions, and even pain; Leo stretched the unseen tendrils of his guardian senses out into the world, hoping to reach one of the few most important people to him. He concentrated and took shallow but calming breathes of air, each time holding his focus.

Piper had sat herself down on one of the many grand couches of Magic school, lost in the folds of its soft fabric while reading to Wyatt. It was one of his favourite stories, about a goldfish and a swim down the drains; the book showed its signs of wear and tear with the edges of its pages curling in and wrinkling. Then on the other end of town, Phoebe was cringing at the demon dust stains on her clothes, while Paige rolled her eyes at her overreaction. They quipped a little here and there, shooting witty one-liners at each other before deciding to orb on to their target.

Opening his eyes slowly, the connections drained away gradually as Leo readjusted himself to the physical surroundings of the attic. He took in another long breath and saw the white orbs and the clear bells fill the air; everything else began to fade and dissolve away, until he found the solid footing and the familiar wallpaper of the living room greeted him. Just one step away from the rest of the world and it took him a little while longer to sense where his son was.

In the kitchen.

Cookie jar opened wide, with a half eaten piece in his mouth, he was hunched over the Book of Shadows like always; Leo's lips curved into a small smile and watched silently. The boy was never seen without the Book anytime.

Then again, he wasn't around much to see him at all.

"Does that become your permanent security blanket or something?"

He jerked and Leo witnessed with slight amusement as the cookie piece dropped from his mouth and rescued in his hands with one swift move. "Could you not do that!"

Leo shrugged and crossed his arms, "Do what?"

"The whole…" Chris made a face and slammed the book shut, "Sneaking up on me thing—very unnerving and not cool. Especially now…"

Raising his eyebrows, Leo flashed an apologetic smile, "Sorry." And that was it, Leo had no idea how else to go on and to approach him much less actually say anything else. Standing by the doorway, he fidgeted with his fingers and the fabric of his plaid shirt, wondering what was the next best thing to say or talk about. A few inches away, Chris made to dust off crumbs from his shirt and re-opened the Book—and stopped short.

"Is something wrong?" his eyes widened in worry, "Mom or Wyatt? Aren't there at Magic school? What happened? Where are Paige and Phoebe?"

"Whoa," Leo placed his outstretched arms as if trying to stop a train and made his way to the panicked half witch; leave it to Chris to over think situations and get worked up about nothing. He really was his mother's son. "No, everything's fine, Piper and Wyatt are in Magic school and safe. Your aunts are still out there vanquishing the Bekra demon… so just relax."

All the wind of adrenaline and worry deflated from him as Chris shoulders slouched, allowing him to sigh and rub his tired eyes. Leo's eyes settled on the cookies in the jar, following the random positions of the oatmeal that surrounded each walnut and raisin. "I hate raisins," Leo loathed his attempt at small talk, but that was all that he could muster up. "I really don't get how people got the idea of drying grapes." He gave a nervous laugh, trying to sound as casual as possible, "How about you?"

Chris shrugged.

Frustration was beginning to take another level up with his lame stabs at father and son bonding—very, very lame. Leo tapped his finger on the kitchen counter as his son went back to the Book again and then—the pieces fell into place.

"You hungry?" Leo questioned, because after all, it was almost seven in the evening, the sun was going down, their main cook was eight months pregnant and away at Magic school, and here was Chris chowing down on home baked goods. He figured that if Chris were like any other kid—aside from the fact that he'd just travelled 22 years back in time to save the world—he was one who'd rather satisfy his appetite with junk food then with an actual proper meal.

Then there was Piper who was going to kill him for even thinking her baking fell under the junk food category.

"No, I'm fine."

"Right…" Leo might've believed him, but the fact that Chris hungrily dug his hand into the container again while still gulping down the last cookie wasn't at all convincing. "Come on, let's go."

"Huh?" looking up, Chris frowned in confusion. "Go where?"

"For dinner."

"Not hungry."

This wasn't going to be easy, "Chris, it's just a bite to eat nearby."

"Like I said…" he muttered again, this time burying his nose deeper into the pages of the Book. "Not hungry."

If there was one trump card he could use, he knew it would be this, "Hey, I made a promise to your mother that I take care of you. And to her, the most important part of 'taking care' is three square, and balanced, meals a day." It was a white lie and Leo wondered if Elders were allowed to play white lies, he must've skipped that part somewhere, "Since I've already missed the first two ones, the least I could keep my promise on is dinner."

The only response he got was a whispering rustle from another page being flipped. Chris, on the other hand, took it upon himself to remain silent and Leo could see his jaw muscles tighten, probably mulling over the thirty ways of rudely telling his father to take a hike.

Leo grasped those moments of silence to think up of other excuses to persuade Chris to do something with him—anything. There must be some way of getting him to open up, or at least speak more than just the sparse two syllable responses and have longer sentences, even a normal adult conversation if the fates were so generous enough. What could he be so guilty of that even his own flesh and blood would despise him like this?

Maybe he could say that Piper was meeting up with them for dinner.

No… that wouldn't work. He'd know that none of them would risk having Piper out in the open. Or maybe having Paige and Phoebe call him up and order him to dinner, he seemed to take their advice easily enough. Or he could try telli—

"Fine."

"What?" Leo woke from his evening musings.

"We go, but it's gotta be fast. I've got work." Chris' voice wasn't enthusiastic the least bit, but it was a start. Moving up, the young one locked the airtight jar, sealing its contents and then holding the Book.

Whispering an unvoiced thank you to the heavens for the chance, Leo nodded, "A quick one. I promise." Within himself, Leo was wincing at the number of promises he was making.

As he gazed at Chris running up the stairs with the Book, the father made a silent prayer that he'd be able to keep those promises.

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TBC…

Thanks for reading.
-Cheers
Jo