Title: Table for Two
Author: frickangel
Summary: All Leo needed was a chance and all Chris wanted was a father. Father-Son bond, Number two in the 'Angel in my Arms' series.
A/N: Currently trying hard to weave continuity between my stories for this series, hope it works.
Oh, and if anyone can figure out which other TV Show I'm trying to pay homage to, I'll give you a cookie.
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.
Chapter 2

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He could count the number of words spoken in the last hour all on two hands.

None were to each other.

Rubbing the tips of his fingers together, Leo brushed the few grains of salt before picking up his napkin and ridding himself of the grease left by his cold fries. Elbows on the table now—in complete ignorance for proper etiquette—he pressed his lips together as he eyed his half-eaten burger. Right across him, his son was just as much picking on his chosen dinner, which was also more greasy fries and chockfull-of-fat-filled cheeseburger.

People around them seem to be happy, or at least happier than they were; gulping down a few beers, joking about, throwing crude insults at each other, and just enjoying themselves. Leo watched hypnotically as the bartender behind the counter filled a few tall glasses with some sort of blue coloured concoction. The man's movements seem to be in sync with the cheap music from the jukebox—some odd country mix—and only accented by the yellow lamps nailed to the tables. His apron advertised the name of the pub and grill they were in, with the words 'McGinty's' printed in a white cursive font on the apron's green material; the exact same way it was on the napkin he was holding.

Leo wondered what Seamus would've thought of such an Irish setting for a bar. Smoothening out the crumpled piece in his hands, the Elder turned back at his son who was busy looking preoccupied with his meal—or at least he pretended to be.

There must be something they could talk about. What was it they were laughing about back when Phoebe was turned into a genie? About letters and stationery or whatever. Was there anything earlier which they had discussed about, maybe some funny incident they shared?

Come to think of it, the only things he could remember were the moments he vocally displayed his distrust about Chris, his threats to send him back to the future with the other Elders; telling Chris he wasn't part of the family; oh, and the part where he held Chris down at sword point in Valhalla's 'Arena of Doom'—that was fun; then there were the times he physically threw the boy into cupboards and walls and doors, complete with breaking glass and all.

Leo winced at the memories as it played in his mind like a black and white movie with stereo and surround sound where applicable. "So, Chris…" Leo spoke up, not realising his mouth had even formed words; it was his mind trying to distract himself from the abuse he had showered upon his future offspring. Unfortunately for him, his brain hadn't decided on what the subject of conversation would be. "I, err…"

The half Whitelighter looked over and eyed him with, what Leo interpreted as, a tinge curiosity and a huge serving of annoyance.

"So… what do you do in the future?" Leo inwardly cringed at his pathetic topic of conversation. The worse part is, if it was that obvious to him, it would most certainly be to Chris as well.

He shrugged, "Nothing much."

Taken by surprise at Chris' lack of snappiness, Leo felt a small spark that maybe this night could change for the better. "Come on, you must have something going on; you live in a house of magic and witches," the older man grinned. "How 'bout things like your school and what you were studying?"

"I dropped out."

Any normal parent would've gawked, choked, gone wide-eyed, yelled, screamed, or just plain lose it. Then again, the word 'normal' never included half-witch-half-Whitelighters, or magic, guardian angels, time travelling sons, and potions stains on the attic rug. So in a true deviant way, Leo merely gave a good humoured frown; mostly because he was afraid anything more expressive than that would get Chris into an agitated state. "Dropped-out?"

Another shrug and an averted gaze.

What did he mean by dropped out? There was no way Piper, or even Phoebe and Paige for that matter, would've allowed their nephew to have just 'dropped out'. Even if he wasn't around much—as Chris had placed it so—it couldn't be possible that anyone at all would have let Chris, would they? "You mean college?" Leo asked gently, ignoring all other screaming questions that were popping in his brain and swarming his senses.

"I was 15."

High school, or did they send him to Magic school instead? "Why? What about your aunts—Piper?"

"Paige and Phoebe never knew." Chris' fingers wrapped around one of the napkins as he began yanking at the sides until little bits of it came in strips. "I jumped from one seer, soothsayer or fortune-teller to another. That's how I learnt about charts, zodiacs, signs, and astrology. Figured it was a way to run and hide for a while."

The expected question following that would've been, 'Run and hide from who?' But Leo guessed who he was referring to, and he was afraid he was right about it.

"Wyatt always found where I was."

He swallowed slowly, and wondered to himself if he had opened up Pandora's Box instead; learning all about his future evil son's conquests and mayhem was not his idea of a solid conversation. Hell, maybe this was Chris' way of taking revenge on his father, by telling him all about his older son's evil ways.

'You were never there for me. You were there for everybody else—mom, Wyatt, half the world—but you were never there for me.'

Leo had thought of ending their little tête-à-tête as it was, but at the last minute, he decided otherwise. If anything, he wanted to prove to Chris that he was here to learn more and maybe change the future other than just Wyatt's. As much as this was going to hurt, Leo was going to get to the bottom of things. "How long did you… I mean the jumping around from one place to the other."

Chris looked straight at Leo and narrowed his eyes, as if pondering on what the Elder was up to. They were treading on eggshells here and it wasn't going to be easy avoiding the sensitive issues. Leo could be as diplomatic as possible with him, but in the end it's up to Chris to decide if they were to continue.

"For about five years," Chris replied.

Nodding slightly, Leo mentally breathed a sigh of relief that he chose to answer. In his mind, he was carefully piecing together the next follow-up question and disposing of those that he figured were too judgemental or nosey. "Until you met… Bianca?" Leo made his own conclusions and counted the factors all in.

Green bits of the napkin covered the table and Chris stopped short of ripping the rest of it up. Instead, he crumpled the half that was still whole, and sat back against the chair before throwing the balled up napkin on the table.

Setting his lips into a thin line, Leo turned to look at the crowd that was beginning to build. The bartender was still hard at work mixing more cocktails, only this time they were coloured in brilliant orange that bled into the bottom layer of red. A group by the corner roared in laughter at someone's punch line—something useless to him since he missed the beginning of the joke. This table could really use some light heartedness to ease the thick tension between them.

"She was still an assassin then."

Leo whirled back to his son, surprised that he had even offered more information.

"Actually, she was trying to kill me. Well sort of," Chris grinned slightly and looked down at his hands. "Case of mistaken identity and Bianca was after the Seer I was with at that time." Slowly bringing himself forward again, Chris touched the cold glass of water, playing with the moisture from the condensation. "Sometimes, I never could tell she was even an assassin before and other times… it's so hard to forget the fact."

Taking in a deep breath, Leo knew all about the love between two unlikely beings. He had after all, fallen in love with a witch—a Charmed one no less—despite the objections from the Elders. And now, his future son had followed in his footsteps; a love between a Whitelighter and an assassin witch, "That's something to go back to."

He knew he had said the wrong thing when he saw Chris' eyes narrow and his shoulders slack. Hadn't they solved their issues in the future? Sure, he did say that Bianca wouldn't be a threat to anyone anymore, but that doesn't mean—

"She died."

Leo's mouth formed a little 'oh' as he struggled for the right words to say and realising that nothing could be said. If Piper had died, and he had witnessed it, he wouldn't be able to be this calm. "Chris, I—"

"I couldn't get to the spell on time and I had no powers. Wyatt was throwing me around like a rag doll and he killed Bianca… just like that." Chris' voice was barely above a whisper and was nearly drowned by the surrounding noise; Leo could see the hurt in his boy's eyes and it crushed him, "…Just like that."

What had actually happened in the future when he went back with Bianca was something Chris never discussed or brought up. Now, Leo understood why.

"I'm scared."

It shocked Leo to the very core that his distant son would suddenly confess to such an intimate feeling. Taking in the next few seconds to register those two words, Leo's mind finally gave up trying to find the right words, and finally releasing his heart to do the talking, "Of what?" he frowned.

"Of what I am and what I'm becoming into." Chris spread out his hands on the table, palms faced down; his skin colour blending in with the table's wood shellac. Looking up, he stared straight at his father, pale green eyes shadowed with worry and fear, "A cold blooded killer."

This was insane; there was no way even his youngest would turn evil. He wouldn't believe it—he couldn't. "No—no way…"

"I see Wyatt and look at how he just kills without remorse. I'm scared I'm turning into him."

"You and Wyatt are two different people, you are not him."

"Because of our powers? He's the twice-blessed?" Chris's voice cracked as he gazed straight into Leo.

"No," Leo answered firmly and strongly, "It doesn't matter about whose got more powers, Chris. In the end, it's all about what's in your heart and I know that you're better than Wyatt." For some reason, Leo thought of himself—at that precise moment—to be playing favourites.

Light from the nearby lamp threw dark shadows on Chris' expression, making it unreadable to Leo as he searched the younger one's face. The Elder fell silent as he watched Chris roll his hands into balled up fists, "I'm no better than Wyatt," he muttered.

"Yes, you are," Leo fought the urge to grab Chris by the shoulders and shake him. "You've never killed anyone. Not now, not ever."

The darkness fell on his eyes again as he closed them, "But I did."

Three simple words and one sentence were all it took for Leo to fill dread at the pit of his stomach. It felt like he was sitting in a vacuum space and all other sounds and voices were ripped clean from reality. The truth lazily wrapped itself around Leo's shocked mind and it dawned, "The Valkyries?" It wasn't so much of a question, more of a statement of an implausible certainty.

Gradually, the boy's head dipped low in an almost passable nod.

When Leo had approached Chris earlier on with the Valkyrie pendants, he had only suspected the Whitelighter of murdering to get to those magical objects. It was just an excuse to squeeze the truth out of him. Now, Leo felt like he had cursed the reality of things and he wished he had never brought up the idea so many months ago. "How?" he matched his low voice with Chris', it was as if they were afraid someone might overhear and actually comprehend what they were about.

The question itself was much too personal, but Leo had to know.

An answer never came from Chris as Leo looked on, watching as Chris' jaw muscles tightened. At first, Leo understood if Chris had decided not to divulge on the past, and that he had chosen to remain silent and not tell, but then it was hard ignoring the glass on the table that quavered slightly.

It was also difficult to not realise Chris' tightly clenched fists shake; his sight set hard on the object of his frustration but his eyes void of anything else.

"Chris?"

The glassware began to tremble even more; tiny cracks formed.

"Chris…" Leo called out again, hoping to stop him before anything happened.

Another bigger fracture sliced through the side of the glass.

Grabbing his hand, Leo spoke his name louder and trying hard to remove his telekinetic hold, "Chris!"

Iciness left his eyes as he suddenly jerked out of his daze; the glass went to its shattering end and cold water drenched onto the table and floor.

They both watched as the liquid dripped steadily to the ground, and the world around them continued on with their own lives. No one had noticed, and those who did merely gave a passing glance at the broken pieces that littered the floor. After all, to them, it was just another accidental bump of the elbow.

"I have to go back," he snatched his hand back and stood up faster than Leo had ever seen him move.

Standing up as well, Leo tried to stop him and clasped his shoulder, "Chris, don't—"

"I've said too much already," giving a brief glance, Leo saw the plea in his eyes to let him be—for now.

Letting go, he stood there and watched as the brown-haired youngster hastily weaved through the sea of people and headed for the front door. Leo sighed and fell back on his chair as the entrance bell chimed, and Chris disappeared behind the wooden door.

Resting his gaze on the table, he realised that the water had created a mess of the green confetti that Chris had made out of his napkin. "Sorry about that," Leo apologised as one of the waitresses came by with a broom and a pan. She smiled back, her oriental features clearly showing, and said it was all right and that it happens all the time.

Sarcastically laughing at himself, Leo couldn't help but connect the glass fragments with the broken relationship with his son.

The waitress carried the pan filled with the broken pieces and simply threw it into a trashcan.

And like the shattered glass, it was going to take a lot to put it back together again.

Or he could just throw everything away.

Bringing himself up again, Leo dug into his pockets and pulled out the cash for the bill. Sure, Whitelighters aren't supposed to have money, but a father's allowed to carry some for a meal with his son. Throwing the green notes on the table, Leo waved at the same waitress before making his way out as well. Tonight's attempt at bonding with Chris wasn't a failure but neither was it a success. Come to think of it, after just now, things could go either way.

Shaking his head at the complications, Leo breathed in the night air of San Francisco and looked at the road ahead. He could just orb back to the manor or he could walk. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he took two steps forward and decided on the latter.

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-END-

Thanks to Spuffyshipper, Melissa Jooty, rozzy07, and Lynx Silverhawk for the lovely reviews.

To everyone else, thanks for reading.
-Cheers
Jo