A/N: Very sorry for the long update wait, and I hope it was worth it. Thank you to those who reviewed the previous chapter.

The alarm clock on the night stand had it's morning job overshadowed. Although it went off, that wasn't what woke up Wesley. No, it was another sound. A much, much, worse one. Sophia was screaming, and crying, as if she was being tortured. Which only meant one thing; it was a bath morning.

Baths were pretty much Sophia's worst enemy. Way too much touching involved. Which is why Fred and Wesley had decided that every-other-day, would be a suitable bathing schedule. It could hardly be considered unhygienic, plus it was just too much to put her through that on a daily basis. And, it was always done as the very first thing in the morning, as to get it over with quickly. No use in having it hang over her head for an entire day; and theirs.

Wes took a moment to prepare himself. Yeah, he was going to be showing his father around Wolfram and Hart within the next hour and a half, and surely only bad would come of that. He was sure of it. But that didn't matter at the moment, in fact, it was the farthest thing from his mind. Finally he got up, he was more tired than usual, because Sophia's sleeping problems came back later the previous night, and he and Fred were up with her during her bouts of being awake.

He made his way to the bathroom where the scene was taking place. Fred was doing her best of bathing the small girl as quickly as she could, as always, but with all Sophia's fussing and fighting to avoid any contact with the washcloth that covered her hand, it was not an easy task. Not to mention that she herself had fighting to do, she had to fight off the urge to take her out of the tub and swear that she'd never put her baby through that again. As did Wesley. But, unfortunately, that wasn't possible because it would be unhygienic, and, despite the circumstances, child neglect. And because of that, Wesley would be lying if he ever said he never looked up any possible way to keep her clean through magic, and just making everything better for her in general, and considered using it once he did come across a spell...

But he didn't do it. He couldn't. Yes, Sophia would certainly prefer any alternative, but using magic on her... even for a very good reason, it seemed very wrong. Not to mention the fact that, that wasn't want magic was supposed to be use for. What if something happened to her as a result? He'd crossed many lines before, but that was a line he would feel utterly wrong, actually crossing. He couldn't put her at a risk for something mystical to happen to her. Not to mention the spell involved the person it was being used on, being in the same room as its performed in, and the mystical/demon world was, with absolute certainty, something neither parent had intentions on introducing her too anytime soon, if ever (with the obvious exceptions of letting her around Lorne, Angel, Spike and Darla.) The human world was overbearing enough for her.

Making himself known, he walked completely into the bathroom and sat on the ledge of the tub, getting splashed thoroughly. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?" he asked his daughter in hopes of distracting her. It never worked, but never stopped him from actually stopping. After all, grabbing and washcloth and attempting to also wash her would only cause her twice the distress instead of getting it done in half the time. He knew this from experience.

After fifteen more minutes, although it seemed like an eternity for all involved parties, the bath was finally complete. Fred helped the child out of the slippery rub, and Wesley wrapped her in a towel right away. Immediately, Sophia ran to her room soaking wet. As always her parents weren't far behind her.

The four year old was rocking on her bed, highly distressed. Yes, it was routine after a bath, but it seemed worse than usual. Which stressed her parents. They sat on the opposite side of the bed, giving her enough space, but still being considerably near her, as close as they could be without making it worse. Several attempts at calming her failed. Fred decided to lay some clothes out on the bed for Sophia, in hopes it would focus her on something else. Wesley re-enforced the new idea. "Sophia, the bath is over. No more touching. Your mother and I promise. Now, why don't you get dressed and then," he thought of something that she would like, "we can have pancakes," he concluded. It was a very nice coincidence that Sophia enjoyed pancakes as much as her adopted mother. But pancakes weren't about to do the trick. He thought some more. All of a sudden, the phone rang. Fred ran to answer it, afraid it could be something very serious, as most calls that early were, leaving Wesley and Sophia alone. In an effort of desperation to make her feel better, the former watcher decided to softly hum a lullaby to her. To his surprise, and pleasure, the sound had a calming effect. Fred returned just in time to see the final moments of it.

"Everything better?" she questioned.

Wesley looked at the stilled, non-nervous, child, and smiled, "it appears so. Are you alright?" he checked with Sophia just to make sure. She nodded meekly.

"Good. We're happy to hear that. And... Sophia, sweety, your dad and I... we only give you baths because you need them. You do. We're sorry about how they make you feel, and we don't ever want to do anything that hurts you... but this we have to do," she decided to explain, she didn't think Sophia really understood, but she felt the need to explain anyway.

It was times like those, Wesley wondered if crossing that line was really as wrong as he thought. Once again though, he pushed the idea out of his mind and pulled the clothes Fred previously laid on the bed closer, "now, how about getting dressed before you catch a cold?" he gently suggested. The little girl complied and proceeded to put on her clothing. Her outfit for the day was an easy to slip on sun dress, ensuring neither parent would have to help her get it on and possibly stress her again.

"Who was on the phone?" Wesley then questioned Fred.

"Harmony. Apparently she thought I would have the answer of what she should tell Angel regarding a contract she just remembered she lost, that wouldn't result in her getting fired."

"Well, if he hasn't fired her for everything else she's forgotten, including where she parked one of his cars she's borrowed, I think her job's pretty safe."

"Hmhm... shouldn't you be getting in the shower, you're gonna be late for work, which will put you behind on your day, and you don't know if you have anything that needs to be made up from taking yesterday off, not to mention your father is meeting you there," she reminded.

He sighed. Work and his father had completely slipped his mind since Sophia's extra strength post-bath meltdown began. The next thing Fred knew, Wes was practically leaning against her, his mouth near her left ear, "do you she's really alright? Should I stay?" he whispered.

"I think she's fine now, really. Her restlessness last night probably was getting to her. Go," she whispered back.

Taking her advice, he stood up and headed for the doorway. Before exiting the room he turned back to a fully-dressed Sophia, "you look very pretty," he complimented.

Despite being behind schedule, Wesley made no rush to get ready. He took his time as always. Which made him nearly a half hour late for work. It didn't really matter though. Angel didn't care. One of the benefits of having one of your best friends as your boss. Roger, however, wasn't as lenient. "You're late," Roger pointed out as soon as Wesley got out of the elevator. "You were supposed to be here nearly thirty minutes ago."

"Yes, I'm aware," Wesley replied. "It was a busy morning."

"Still making excuses for yourself I see."Roger eyed his son's tan jeans and blue botton down shirt. "And you hardlylook presentable in a workplace. Even if it's Wolfram and Hart."

"Let's get started,"Wesley declared, "we'll go to my office first."

On their sixty-second walk to the office, they were approached by someone. "Well, well, what do we have here? It's like looking into the future while seeing the present at the same time," Lorne laughed, going back and forth between father and son. Neither man took it as a compliment.

"Father, this is Lorne."

Roger eyed the green demon in what could only be described as disgust. "And it is what exactly?"

"He is a good friend of mine. And runs a division if Wolfram and Hart."

"Befriending demons. No wonder you failed as a watcher."

"Oh, but you should see him at listening. Impeccable skills," Lorne said half-sarcastically to get his friend's back, and half joking to try and lighten the mood. It didn't work. Sensing the continued tension Lorne took of citing work duties that needed to be taken care of.

After Wesley checked his office for messages he gave his father a mini-tour of the building. At least everything that was in the path between his office and the coffee area. Already there getting coffee was none other than Wesley's boss Angel. Wesley introduced his father to Angel. Who looked upon Angel with a glare of his eyes. It was to be expected, a hardcore watcher standing in front of one of the world's most notorious vampires. Wesley however couldn't help but sigh when he saw the glare.

"Hello." Angel greeted, sticking out his hand.

"Hi." Roger replied, his voice shrill. He did not return the handshake.

"So, will you be staying long?" Angel asked, as he withdrew his hand.

"Let's hope not," Wesley whispered to himself.

"I haven't decided yet," Roger replied.

"Angel, did you get the papers I gave to Harmony the other day?" Wes decided to ask, changing the topic.

Angel nodded. "They had nail polish on them," he griped, still a bit angry at Harmony for that, among other mistakes. "But yes. I filled them out and filed them."

"Good, good."

After all the men got their coffee, they left and parted ways. Angel went to his office, Wesley and Roger went back to Wesley's. Eventually, Roger insisted he explore Wolfram and Hart without Wesley around to try and convince him it wasn't that evil. Wesley agreed, he had someone following him without his knowledge, but he agreed. He needed the break.

Taking advantage of the quiet, alone time, Wesley leaned back in his chair and just tried to relax. But like always in Wolfram and Hart, alone time never lasts long. At least though he didn't mind at all who his visitor was. "Got the final papers," Doyle announced, plopping two sheets of paper stapled together, on the desk.

"Great!" Wesley replied, perking up. "Thank you for doing this." Since Sophia was approaching the age where kids start school, but obviously wasn't ready or able to attend one, even one for children like herself, it was decided she'd have a home teacher. With Doyle being someone she's familiar with, and a certified teacher, he was the logical choice.

Doyle waved a hand dismissively, as he sat down, "thank you? You kiddin'? It'll be great for me too, haven't taught in years, plus she'll be much more pleasant than twenty, nine-year-olds. And it'll be a hell of a lot easier than dealing with the chaos of this place."

Laughter filled the office. "Sorry. It's just... seriously," more laughing, "what can you teach, really? How to make jello-o shots? Bad Fashion Sense 101?" Cordelia said, still laughing, as she came into the office completely, and sat down next to Doyle.

"Better than Hooker Fashion 101," he retorted. "And I was a damn fine teacher."

"Hm mh." She didn't believe it... she couldn't. He was Doyle. Doyle wasn't a teacher, he was a semi-alcoholic who liked strip clubs. Than again, she once had a teacher who was really a praying mantis. But still, she couldn't go easy on him because of that, it just wasn't fun. "I still think you should use a real teacher, Wes. Before the poor girl learns to count using beer bottles, instead of apples or something sweet like kids usually learn with from a real teacher."

"And what would you use?" Wes questioned, "push up bras?"

Getting ganged up on, also wasn't fun. Even when she clearly was asking for it. But that wasn't going to slow her down. She was, after all, Cordelia Chase. "Unlike you two I'm sure, I don't, and never have, been in need of something to enhance the size of anything on my body."

"That's not what Xander said in highschool," Wes mumbled. Doyle laughed.

"Hey! You know, there was once a time when you both thought of me as a goddess, you should go back to that. You were better that way."

Wes shrugged. "I also thought at one point in time, that a one-hour photo meant they were only open for an hour a day and did all the developing in that hour," he pointed out.

"I shot glue up my nose like it was nasal spray," Doyle added. They both looked at Doyle after hearing his addition. "What? It was kindergarten, everyone was doing it!"

"Thank you for proving my original point," Cordy said.

"I don't see how it's any worse than when you streaked in the middle of your cousin's baptism when you were six,"Angel countered, joining his friends and girlfriend.

"I told you that in confidence!" she exclaimed, as Doyle and Wesley laughed. Angel shrugged.

"Something you need?" Wes asked Angel.

"No. Just walking by and heard the conversation, so I figured..."

"You'd come in here and betray me?" Cordy finished.

"Pretty much."

"Hey, we're all friends in here. Your secret's safe with us. Except for when we tell everyone we know," Doyle assured her.

"I will kill all three of you if that ever gets to anyone else," she threatened before storming out of the room.

After a few minutes of chatting, Angel and Doyle left the office. Wesley went back to relaxing, the chat with his friends helped with that greatly, soon enough, other's came to his office. Only this time, he wasn't pleased, he was thrilled. "This is certainly a lovely surprise," he said going over to the visitors; Fred and Sophia.

"Well, I was called in to consult on something, so I figured we'd stop in and visit before I drop her with Lorne or Angel," Fred explained. Sophia didn't mind Lorne or Angel when Sarai wasn't an option. Well, she was getting used to being alone for short periods of time with several members of the team, and by getting used to, meaning she didn't spend the entire time curled up nervus in one spot. But Lorne and Angel were her top picks for backup babysitters.

"Or she could stay here," Wes suggested.

"Are you sure?" Fred asked. She then mouthed the words 'your father' to him.

"It's fine," he answered. He wasn't about to pass up Sophia-time because his father might come in and insist they do something specific. Fred went on her way to the lab.

Sophia decided to hop onto Wesley's chair and play with his pens. "Would you like to draw something?" he asked. "I'll help." She didn't respond, just continued to arrange the pens in a box-shaped design. Eventually, she got bored with that and decided to spin around in the swivel desk chair. At the sound of the spinning, Wes looked up from his bookcase, where he decided to re-arrange one of the shelves, and did not like the site. "Sophia, please stop that before you get hurt," he kindly advised. She continued to spin. "Sophia, stop that," he said with a little more authority, but still nicely. He had to repeat himself two more times before she listened. "Thank you," he told her when s he stopped.

"Tell me, why is it you thank you her for obeying?" Wesley then heard his father ask from the doorway.

"Because unlike some, I don't believe in yelling demands," he replied. "It doesn't work in the long run, trust me."

Sophia was busy playing with the items on the desk to take notice or interest, in the conversation going on. Soon enough, her playing went sour when she received a paper-cut from a paper on the desk. This was not pleasant at all. It barely broke the first layer of skin, no blood was drawn, but it still hurt quite a bit. At the sound of her crying over it, Wes ran over and assessed the situation. Roger watched on, with disgust, at the sight of his son making such a fuss over the child's pain, a child that technically wasn't even his no less.

Although Roger was the only one able to view what went on, it could be heard by some in the hallway. One passer byer decided to stop in and see what the crying was about. "What's this all about?" Darla asked as she examined the goings on in the office. Roger was shocked at the sight of the vampire.

"Sophia got a paper-cut," Wes answered.

"Mamma," the child eventually requested. Wesley made sure he hid the fact that he was less than happy with her desire to go to her mother, instead of allowing him to continue to care for her. But at least he had the fact that he helped her earlier that morning, and the wave the night before, which he reminded himself of.

"I'll take her to Fred if you want," Darla offered, cutting off his thoughts.

"Are you sure?"

"Got nothing else to do, sure."

Roger finally spoke up. "Excuse me? Wesley have you gone mad? Even you must be smart

enough to know what a vile creature that woman is. And I thought you befriending and working with Angelus was bad enough."

"Please, stop with the flattery already," Darla replied, joyous and sarcastically. "Come on dear, I'll take you to your mother," she added to Sophia.

"Wesley you are not seriously about to allow this?" Roger objected, sickened at his son's trust in vampires, more so than actually concerned about Sophia's safely.

"I assure you, she'll be fine with me," Darla told the man, as Sophia approached Darla, unafraid, and unaware of her danger status. It wasn't that Darla liked Sophia a great deal, granted, she didn't dislike her by a longshot, because there was nothing to dislike, but that was beside the point. Sophia was a member of her daughter's inner circle, and so by association, whoever Sarai liked, as a rule, Darla would protect and make sure they went unharmed as to not cause Sarai any angst. With of course, the exception of Spike. She had spent over a hundred years hating him, and refused to stop. Which also helped Sophia's case as far as Darla was concerned. Sophia was not a member of the pro-Spike club. She was either somewhat comfortable/familiar, or neutral to all her parent's friends, except for Spike. She had an adverse reaction to him.

Darla escorted Sophia out of the room.

The two made their way to the lab, where Fred was chatting with Spike. It wasn't that pleasant of a trip since the crowded hallways did not settle well with Sophia. But she made it through the trip. Sophia ran up to her mother right away, getting her attention. "Hey there, sweety, what's wrong?" Fred asked, noticing something had obviously upset her daughter.

Sophia made an attempt to tell to her mother what happened. The only thing understandable, an actual word, was when she said 'Mama'. This made her feel much worse.

"She got a paper cut, and wanted you," Darla then explained for the child. "I was around. Offered to bring her here."

"Oh, poor baby. Does it still hurt?" Fred asked, sympathetically. Sophia nodded. "I'll be right back." Fred ran to her office.

"Hey there, little bite," Spike friendly greeted Sophia when Fred left. He wanted Sophia to like him. After all, Fred had become one of his best friends.

The child backed away and nervously coward by Darla. "Maybe you should go," Darla suggested, her maternal side kicking in. "Far way, forever," she added, her hateful side kicking in, just low enough for only Spike to hear. He shot her a hateful look as he left.

When Fred returned, she had a spray can with her. It was a disinfectant/numbing spray for cuts and scrapes. She sprayed some on Sophia's paper cut. "Better?" Fred questioned. Sophia nodded. "Great."

"Well, I'll be leaving you two now," Darla announced, heading out.

After Fred cleaned up the lab, and signed a few papers, she took Sophia home. On the way she called Wesley to update him on Sophia, and to told him she was on her way home.

As Wesley talked to Fred, Roger watched his son, thinking about how much time the two of them must spend on Sophia. He figured she was the reason his son didn't seem interested in having kids of his own with Fred, kids that would serve his purpose in restoring his family name, because she took up so much time. Something had to change, he decided. And it was up to him to make it happen. After all, it would be for 'Wesley's own good', as well as his.

"If you would call me a cab, I think I'll be on my way. I've seen enough for now, and I have other matters to attend to," Roger told Wes after he got off the phone with Fred.

"I'll drive you back to your hotel," he offered in response. Driving his father home would get him away faster, since waiting for a cab in LA usually took forever. Plus, he could use the uninterrupted solo time the drive back would offer.

TBC

A/N: Up next is a lot of Wes/Sophia interaction, nearly the whole chapter. And also things get plot-y at the end of the next chapter.

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