( RIPOSTE ][ A Watchergirls Archive )

__Galileo__
By Adrian

"I offer thanks to those before me that's all I've got to say
Cause maybe you squandered big bucks in your lifetime
Now I have to pay
But then again it feels like some sort of inspiration
To let the next life off the hook"
- "Galileo" by Indigo Girls

* * * * *

It was after hours on the next to last Thursday evening of May. Gunn and Fred were sitting in Wesley's office with the Englishman discussing their current projects. The discussion slowly turned to Angel, Cordelia, and Holtz - as it did with surprising regularity.

"I'm sorry again for being so nasty," Fred apologized for what seemed like the 436th time. "We should've known something was up."

"It's okay, Fred," Wesley replied calmly. "I've forgiven you, so you can stop apologizing. I just wish that there had been -"

"And you can stop your wishful thinking," Gunn interrupted him. "We all know that you would've done stuff differently to have saved Cordy from Holtz - like *tell* us - but at least she's only in a coma and not dead - which is better than what we can say for Holtz and most of his gang right now."

"And we all know that I've got scientists working on trying to find a way to heal her," Fred commented.

"I know," Wesley responded glumly. "But I keep thinking that if I had just been able to translate the prophecy quicker, or been better at convincing Holtz not to attack us, or had gotten Cordelia to a hospital sooner, or hadn't trusted Justine that one time, then maybe -"

"Wes, didn't I tell you? No more 'what if?'s." The three looked up to see Angel in the doorway. Wesley's depressed expression quickly melted into one of happiness. "You did what you could given the circumstances. I don't think any of us could've done better. Can I talk with you privately?" Gunn and Fred exchanged a look when they saw Wesley's face brighten at the sight of Angel. Only Angel seemed to be oblivious to how Wesley felt for him.

"Sure. I was going to leave soon, anyway, if you want to go with me?" He gave Gunn and Fred a look and they nodded and got up to leave as well. After putting a few papers into his briefcase, Wesley was ready to go. He locked up his office after everyone was out and bade Gunn and Fred good night before he and Angel left.

"So, how long have you been back?" Wesley asked as they got into his SUV.

"A day or two," Angel replied as he buckled his seatbelt. "I stopped in to see Gunn and Fred this morning."

"And you didn't bother to see me?"

"I'm sorry. Something came up."

Wesley started the engine. "It still would have been nice." As he pulled out into traffic a moment later, he asked, "So how did it go with Buffy?"

"It went well. Better than expected. And how did you know about that?"

"Lilah. She's very liberal with information when she wants something."

"What'd you have to do to get that out of her?"

"Let her watch the season premiere of "Sex and the City" at my place."

"Well, that's -" Wesley's sidelong glance stopped Angel. "Okay, then."

They were quiet for the rest of the trip. Angel followed Wesley to his apartment and declined the drink offer once inside, as Wesley dropped his briefcase by the door and poured himself a finger-width of whiskey.

As they settled down onto Wesley's couch, Angel said, "I truly am sorry about what happened, Wes." He made a vague gesture toward his own neck to indicate Wesley's scar. "And for the pillow."

"It's in the past, Angel," Wesley replied before taking a sip of whiskey. He gave Angel a small glare. "And don't apologize again. I've had enough of that already today from the others."

"Okay. I'll try not to."

"So what happened in Sunnydale?"

"I gave Buffy the amulet, we talked, I left. It was all very mature - well, except for the part where she insinuated I was 12 for getting a little upset over her relationship with Spike. But it's *Spike* and he has a *soul* now. I think I have a right to act a little immaturely."

Wesley put the empty glass on the coffee table. "You do realize that she's making an attempt to move on and that it might be time for you to do so as well?"

"I know, but it's hard to forget someone that you really love."

"I find that hard to believe, Angel, considering how long you've been around."

"But she was my first *real* love, you know what I mean? That's not something you just give up on a whim."

"I don't mean that you should forget her, by any means. Just that you should try to move forward. If you're supposed to be together, you will. There *is* still that shanshu prophecy." As Angel opened his mouth to balk, Wesley continued, "I can see your brain working and just let it go. I'm sure you two will be together and have a good life."

Angel sighed, knowing he wasn't going to win this argument, at least not that night. "Just make me forget, okay?"

Wesley just nodded, a wistful look in his eyes that Angel didn't notice. He fished the lube out of its place from between the seat cushions, where it had fallen the last time he had "comforted" Angel - only a few days previously. Detached, he stood and removed his pants before opening Angel's, who easily lifted up his hips and let him pull them down around the vampire's ankles. Angel closed his eyes as Wesley began to stroke his cock to hardness.

Wesley had had numerous fantasies about things like this happening - both before and after the physical side of their relationship had deepened. But the reality was a far cry from what he had always hoped for. It was almost a perversion of a nearly sacred act and yet he continued to allow it to happen.

Once Angel was hard, Wesley deftly spread lube over Angel's cock before straddling the vampire and taking him inside his body in one fluid motion. He began to lift himself off of Angel and then allow himself to slide back down quickly, only touching Angel when and where necessary. Wesley had to admit, the sex did feel good, but aside from the physical release, he derived no real pleasure from it.

After the first handful of their encounters, Wesley had found that it was simply easier to use his vagina instead of his ass, as Angel seemed to prefer a) being a fuckee instead of a fucker and b) letting Wesley do all the work. The change in position surprised Angel and afterwards Wesley had confided his own mixed heritage. Subsequently, Angel hadn't seemed to care either way.

It was over quickly as Angel came in him with a grunt. When Angel started to go soft, Wesley got off of him and disappeared to the bathroom to return with a cloth to clean Angel off. When he was done, Angel stood and put his pants back on.

"Thanks," Angel said quietly as he gently put his hand against the side of Wesley's neck and softly stroked Wesley's cheek a couple of times with his thumb. He gave Wesley a smile before he left, the door closing quietly behind him.

After staring at the closed door for a moment, Wesley collapsed onto the couch and cried himself to sleep as he half-heartedly jacked himself off, finding release the only way he was familiar with. He knew it was futile to expect Angel to return his affection, but every time they came together, he couldn't help but hope *that* time it would be different.

* * * * *

"Good morning, Melancholy Boy Wonder," Lilah remarked lightly as Wesley entered Files and Records the next day.

"What do you want, Lilah?" he asked shortly.

He hadn't grown any fonder of her since she had tried to recruit him for Wolfram and Hart during his dark time before the Beast had wiped out Wolfram and Hart - or at least the L.A. Branch. Lilah had died in the attack as well, but the Senior Partners had thought she could still be useful to their plans. They now used her as a liaison-cum-mentor of sorts for the Angel Investigations crew as they took over the L.A. Branch of Wolfram & Hart.

"I only wanted to let you in on a little secret."

"I thought you would know by now that I'm not interested in what you have to say."

"Well, I think you will about this. Next time Angel comes around for one of his little fuck sessions, ask him about Connor."

Wesley quickly hid his surprise at her knowledge of his rendezvous with Angel. "Connor? Who the hell's Connor?"

Lilah only smiled before she exited, not giving him an answer.

* * * * *

Angel appeared in Wesley's office around lunchtime. "I'm sorry about last night," he said as he flopped down into a chair.

"What do you mean?" Wesley asked, not looking up from his paperwork.

"Just the whole thing. I shouldn't have unloaded all of that on you."

"I'm your friend, Angel. That's what friends do - listen to each other." They never talked about the sex. Sometimes Wesley wanted to, but he felt as if there was a wall separating the intimate things they did in his apartment from the rest of their relationship.

Angel gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"Who's Connor?" Wesley asked.

The smile disappeared. "Who?"

"Connor," he repeated evenly as he set down the papers and pen he was holding.

Angel shifted in his seat. "No one."

"Lilah doesn't seem to think so. Is there someone else, Angel?"

"No!" Angel almost shouted before reining himself in. "No. It's not what you think."

"I don't know what to think." He casually leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach. "So why don't you tell me?"

"There's nothing to tell."

"If there's nothing to tell, then why -?"

"Because it doesn't matter anymore," Angel huffed. "It's a part of my past."

"And your past has come back to bite you in the ass more than once. I think I should know these things so we don't have another Holtz situation on our hands."

"Believe me, we won't." Angel stood. "Just leave it alone, Wesley." He breezed out of Wesley's office with a scowl on his face.

"I can't," Wesley whispered after him, watching the path Angel had taken. "Not when it comes to you."

* * * * *

After lunch, Wesley went back down to Files and Records to find out about the mysterious Connor. Just as he was about to start delving into Angel's file his cell-phone rang, calling him away.

He didn't make it back down to Files and Records to look for Connor for a full week. When he finally did get down there, he holed himself up in the dimly lit room and began to pull out files. Three hours later, he had found out that Connor was Angel's son - which wouldn't have been very notable for the most part, since Angel's exploits as a human were almost as well-known as his activities as Angelus.

Until he found Connor's birth date. November 19, 2001. Why didn't he remember that? The birth of a *human* child to a vampire - no, *two* vampires, he noted as his eyes lighted on Darla's name - would have been something to take note of. Where had he been? And hadn't Darla been dusted along with Drusilla when Angel went dark in early 2002?

He checked his watch and realized he had to be in a meeting. As he stood to put the files away, a wave of nausea hit him and he gripped the nearest filing cabinet to keep his balance until it passed. Then the images hit him like a ton of bricks. Connor being born, being kidnapped, coming back older, the Beast, Darla, Holtz, Lilah, Cordelia, Faith, Jasmine, Angelus. He sank down until he was sitting again, this time with his back against a cabinet. He wanted to disbelieve, but couldn't. Deep in his gut he knew the images he had just seen were real. Everything he had thought was real was a lie. He had to get out of there. He had to....

There was a flutter in the pit of his stomach and he absently wrapped an arm around his torso. He had to go – had to process what he had seen. Then there was another flutter in the pit of his stomach. It was different than the nausea that had just attacked him. He glanced at his watch and his eye caught the date and his mind started racing in a different direction.

No. No, no, no, no, no. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't supposed to be happening. It wasn't supposed to be possible. He took medication. Which ran out six months ago last Monday, a part of his brain told him. He had to go home. He had to make sure.

* * * * *

An hour later, hewas still sitting on the cool tile floor of his bathroom. He glanced at the pregnancy test still gripped between the fingers of his left hand, which rested atop his bent knees. His right arm was wrapped around his stomach. There was a pink line. He was pregnant. He couldn't be pregnant. He wasn't ready. He couldn't raise a child just yet.

Suddenly, he propelled himself into action. He couldn't stay there. He had to get out of the apartment, out of L.A. He couldn't pretend anymore - not about being pregnant, not about what he was. And he *certainly* wasn't going to pretend about Connor, which Angel seemed to be happy to do. So he did the one thing he thought best - he ran. He packed a few essentials into a duffel bag, arranged for the landlord to have the rest of his things put in storage, hopped on his motorcycle, and drove out of town like a bat out of hell was after him.

* * * * *

Twenty-four hours later, Wesley pulled into the parking lot of Eskimo Joe's in Stillwater, Oklahoma. The town wasn't his ultimate destination - he hadn't actually decided on one yet - but he needed to eat and sleep before he moved on.

After being seated and ordering, Wesley went to wash up before his meal. On the way back to his table, he passed two men talking at the end of the bar. His gaze quickly flicked over them in natural curiosity, but neither raised much interest. A few moments after he had reseated himself, a plate of steaming food was set in front of him. When he was about halfway through his meal, someone slid across from him into the booth. Wesley tried to ignore whoever it was, but they didn't seem to get the idea.

"Whatever it is - I'm not interested," Wesley said dismissively as he continued to eat and not look at the other person.

"Then I'm not going to offer you a place to stay since you look like shit," a Southern voice drawled.

Wesley stopped with his fork midway to his mouth and looked up. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Lindsey McDonald?"

"Yep." Aside from the tan and the more relaxed demeanor, Lindsey didn't seem much different from the last time Wesley had seen him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Trying to get some information out of Bob about my next gig."

"For all you know, I could just be having a hot meal and then moving on," Wesley replied shortly. "Why should I consider your offer?"

"I've done enough traveling to know you're not."

Wesley put his fork down and sat back against his side of the booth. "And what do you plan on getting out of this?"

"The satisfaction that you're not going to become road kill five miles out of town."

Wesley stared at him warily. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because you're not Angel."

"Not very convincing."

"Have I ever gone after any of you aside from Angel?"

"No."

"My point exactly. And you know that if I wanted to, I could have." Lindsey smiled, hoping it came across as being reassuring. "If you're so antsy to get out of here, finish your meal and I'll take you over to my place so you can get some rest and move on."

Wesley sighed. "I don't understand you."

"Neither do I. Now eat. A couple of extra pounds won't kill you either."

Twenty minutes later they emerged from the restaurant. "Where do you live?" Wesley asked as he put his wallet in his back pocket.

"Eagles Nest apartments. It's only a minute from here."

"Okay, I'll follow you." Wesley took out his keys and started towards his motorcycle.

"No you won't. Get your stuff - I'll drive and you can get your bike later."

"I -" Wesley yawned.

"Get your bags in the bed and get your ass in the cab. Don't make me force you."

"You couldn't take me." Wesley folded his arms over his chest and adopted a defensive stance.

"I'm stronger than I look."

"Brute strength doesn't necessarily have anything to do with it."

"With how tired you are, I think it does. In." Lindsey cocked his head to the truck and started towards it.

"Fine. But I expect you to bring me back here as soon as I'm ready."

"Deal."

When they got to the apartment complex, Lindsey silently led the way to his apartment and showed Wesley to the recently vacated second bedroom - which had clean sheets on the bed. He also gave him some towels and showed him where the bathroom was. Once Wesley was in the shower, Lindsey sank down on the couch, ran a hand through his hair and wondered what the hell he was doing. He gave up when Wesley came out of the bathroom and disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door behind himself, and went into his own room to work on some reports.

Lindsey was watching TV and eating cold, leftover pizza when Wesley finally reappeared. "How'd you sleep?" he asked.

"Very well, thank you," Wesley replied as he sank down onto the couch next to Lindsey and absently rubbed an eye.

"Are you hungry? Would you like something to drink?" Lindsey began to move to cater to Wesley.

"Some more sleep would be good, but I needed to get up for a while." Wesley gave him a small smile. "But if you have any more pizza left, that would be fine." He moved to followed Lindsey, but Lindsey motioned for him to stay seated.

"Would you like this heated?"

"Cold's fine." Wesley gratefully took his supper when Lindsey came back into the living room.

"I never took you for the cold pizza type," Lindsey commented as he sank back down.

"You probably never took me for much of anything." Wesley gingerly rested the glass at his feet and balanced the plate on his knee.

"Well, that's... true. Care to watch a movie?"

"Sure."

After watching Gladiator and a "Conan O'Brien" rerun, Lindsey bade Wesley a sleepy goodnight and went to bed. Wesley went into the other bedroom and shut the door before pulling out his cell-phone. He pressed the familiar numbers and sank down on the bed as he listened to the ringing.

"Hello?" a female voice answered in Gaelic.

"Hi, Mom," Wesley answered in the same language, a smile spreading across his face.

"Wesley? What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing calling me at this hour? Isn't it late where you are?"

"It's not terribly late. Besides, I need to talk to you."

"What happened? Are you all right?" The concern was evident in her voice.

"I don't know how to answer that, Mum." Wesley let out a ragged breath. "I, uh, I'm pregnant."

"You're joking, right?"

"Mum, would I call you at this hour to joke about something like that?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "No, no you wouldn't, honey. Have you been to the doctor yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Well, I have some contacts, so I'll set you up with someone that's more capable of handling your 'condition' and I'll let you know, okay? You're still in Los Angeles, right?"

"No, I'm not. I'm in Stillwater, Oklahoma, right now."

"What the hell are you doing there?"

"I had to get out of Los Angeles for a while."

"That's definitely out of Los Angeles. So, who’s the father – it’s not some one night stand is it?”

"I, um... I’ve been sleeping with Angel."

"As in your boss?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Is he with you?"

"No, he’s not."

"Look at the time. I have to go - I'm expecting Mrs. McDaniels any moment. But I'll call you later today, okay?"

"Thanks, Mum."

"You're welcome, sweetie."

Wesley ended the call and let the phone drop to the bed before took off his glasses up and rubbed his face. Things weren't supposed to be happening this way. He wasn't supposed to be pregnant. He wasn't supposed to be in Stillwater, Oklahoma. He wasn't supposed to be in the guest bedroom of one of Angel's adversaries that he couldn't bring himself to hate. He wasn't supposed to be letting his mother make a doctor's appointment for him - which meant he would have to stay in this town for who knew how long.

He sighed. But his mother always understood how his body worked better than he did and he knew she would make sure he had a good doctor. And being pregnant probably wasn't the worst thing that could happen, he thought sleepily. At least he hadn’t released Angelus.

* * * * *

He awoke the next morning at 9:30. After tidying himself up, he wandered out into the living room and found a note on the dining table. "Had to go to work for an emergency," he read. "Help yourself to whatever you'd like. I'll call later to see how you're doing. - Lindsey"

Before he made it any farther, his cell phone rang and he dashed to get it. "Hello?" he answered.

"Hi, honey," his mom responded in Gaelic.

"Hi, Mum," he replied in kind. "So what have you found out?"

"Well, Mrs. McDaniels' son, Jeremy, just got a promotion and is supposedly up for an award. And Mr. O'Donnell's -"

"Mum," he said with a smile, "please. Tell me about the doctor first."

"Oh, okay." She tried to sound upset, but he knew she really wasn't. "There's an Ob/Gyn in the Stillwater Medical Center named Raquel Gonzales who's willing to take you. You'd be surprised at the number of demons in that area. I'm surprised that they don't just make the trip down to Oklahoma City - it's not *that* far away."

"Mum!"

"Okay, okay. Anyway, she specializes in demon births and such and is interested in you. I made an appointment for you to see her this Monday at three. Did you get that?"

Wesley jotted her name and the date and time down on an envelope he found in his bag. "Yes, Mum."

"Okay, now about Mr. O'Donnell..." When Wesley finally got off the phone with his mother half an hour later, he was caught up on all the gossip in his mother's village.

Tossing the cell phone on the bed, he looked at the room for the first time. The bed was against the wall to the left of the door. Along the same wall as the door was a dresser and mirror set and what was probably the door to the closet. Against the wall across the room from the bed was a desk. There was a window almost directly across from the door. The walls were a plain white.

After locating the linen closet just outside Lindsey's room, which was to the right of his when he exited the room he had been using, he wandered out into the front of the apartment. The door to the apartment was across from him and there was a window to the left of the door. The front area of the room was dedicated to a sitting area. A corner couch was pushed against the front wall and partially under the window, with the back of the perpendicular section facing the door, with an end table and rocking chair also along that wall. Two more recliners and an end table between them were across from the window and a coffee table was in the center of the sitting area. A TV was centered to the area on the wall across from the perpendicular section of the sofa. A small dining room table occupied the back part of the living room. There was a small coat closet on the wall opposite the table.

On the other side of the sitting area was the small, but tidy, kitchen and a small bar had been mounted into the front wall of the apartment. It gave the tenants a bit more surface space to use in cooking, and the two stools tucked underneath attested that it was also a place to eat, as well. There was a corded phone mounted on the wall across from the bar. A silk screen was set up to partion it off from the rest of the room.

After eating a bowl of cereal and flipping through the local paper, Wesley went into the living room to watch some TV, having nothing else to do. He briefly considered calling either Fred or Gunn, but decided against it since he didn't feel like answering the questions he knew they would ask him. He definitely didn't feel like talking to Angel at this point. "Yes, I ran away because I'm carrying your child," just didn't sound like the right thing to say to the vampire. He didn't know how to break it to them that he didn't know when - or even if - he was going to be coming back, and didn’t want to deal with that just yet.

He was upset and hurt over what Angel had done without even consulting any of them. He didn't have to be the one Angel confided in, even though he usually was, but he'd feel better about Angel's decision to change all of their memories without their knowledge if it had at least been discussed with someone and hadn't been a rash decision. And Wesley knew he had to work through those feelings before he could deal with the complications his pregnancy brought to his relationship with Angel.

Besides, it was a Saturday and he wouldn't be missed until at least Tuesday. That would give him some time to go to the doctor and to get things straightened out in his own mind before making any life-changing decisions.

* * * * *

A few hours later, although Wesley wasn't sure because the television programs ran together after a while, the phone rang. He wasn't planning on answering it since it was probably for Lindsey anyway, but the machine picked up and Wesley heard Lindsey's voice. "Hey, Wesley, it's Lindsey. I hope you didn't try to walk back to Eskimo Joe's. Not that you couldn't do it, I just don't want you getting lost or anything."

Wesley was up and answering the phone before Lindsey could say any more. "No, I'm here," he responded.

"Okay," Lindsey replied. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up, but things have been rather busy at work lately and something came up with one of the cases that I had to take care of."

"There's a branch of Wolfram & Hart out here?" Wesley asked without thinking.

"Well, no. Not that I'm surprised you'd think that, given my track record and all. I work for Legal Aid Service of Oklahoma, Inc., which is a non-profit legal aid program for lower income families and individuals and senior citizens. I mainly work on the demon or "unnatural" cases since no one else seems inclined to help them. Anyway, I'm almost done here, so I'll probably be home in about an hour. Then I'll take you to get your motorcycle so you can be on your way."

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that, but we can discuss it when you get home."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'll see you when you get back."

* * * * *

When Lindsey arrived home an hour and a half later, he found Wesley absorbed in a book. "Hi, honey, I'm home!" he said with a slight smirk as he dropped his satchel by the door. "So, what are you reading?" he asked as he went over to the couch.

"Just skimming through "Purgatory" again," Wesley replied absently. "Didn't think you were a fan of Dante."

"It's courtesy of Lilah's sense of humor. She gave it to me before I left Wolfram & Hart."

"She gave me a copy as well - last year when she was trying to recruit me to Wolfram & Hart." Wesley shut the book and looked up at Lindsey. "You think she's trying to tell us something?" he asked with a small smile.

"Possibly." Lindsey sat down on the opposite end of the couch from Wesley. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"Something’s come up and I'm planning on staying in town, at least through Monday afternoon. Could you recommend a hotel I could stay at?"

"Sure, but you're perfectly welcome to stay here, if you'd like."

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"It's not a problem at all. My roommate moved out at the end of the fall semester and it'll be nice to have someone else around, especially someone I know."

"Hardly. We've seen each other two or thee times between the time we met and yesterday - and it's only been a working relationship. I hardly see that as a reason for you to open your home to me."

"Well, then consider it an act of Good Samaritanism and a step toward my goal of redemption. And besides, this way you can tell Angel how I'm doing when you go back to L.A."

"I hate to break your heart, but I highly doubt he's given you much thought since you left. And I'm not even sure if I am going back."

"One of Angel's followers is actually defecting? If Angel firing y'all and going dark isn't enough, what'd he have to do to finally drive you away?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Wesley looked down at his drawn up knees. "But thank you for your offer of hospitality, I think I'll take you up on it. I hope you'll accept some type of repayment when I leave."

"We can work that out later, not that I'm really worried about it. So what business do you have in Stillwater? It doesn't exactly seem like your kind of town."

"I didn't exactly choose this town, rather it seems as though it chose me. And that's something else I don't wish to discuss right now."

"Will you tell me before you leave?"

"Maybe."

"Fine. Let's go get your bike."

As they were about to leave Eskimo Joe's, someone yelled at Lindsey. "McDonald! How've you been, man?"

Wesley paused in starting his bike and looked up. A rather large man wearing a sleeveless shirt, jeans, and biker boots with a tattoo on his right shoulder and an earring in his left ear approached them. He glanced at Lindsey to see what his reaction was to the unexpected interruption. Lindsey's face lit up and he was smiling wider and more openly than Wesley had ever expected he could as he met the other man part way. Wesley got off of his bike and took a couple of steps towards them, but hung back.

"Marks! How the hell are you?" Lindsey shook the other man's hand heartily and then accepted a quick embrace. "Jonathan," he said as he brought the man over the Wesley, "this is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. He's a friend from L.A. who's going to be staying with me for a while. Wesley, this is my best friend, Jonathan Marks."

"Nice to meet you, Wesley," Jonathan said jovially as he gave Wesley a firm handshake. "Lindsey hasn't said much about L.A. and I was beginning to suspect that he was just making the whole thing up."

"Yes, well, I've gotten the impression that L.A. wasn't the best place for him," Wesley replied smoothly as he gave Lindsey a small smile. He tried to contain his surprise at how opposite this man was from what he appeared to be.

"Bob tells me you're performing over at the Stonewall on Thursday," Jonathan said to Lindsey.

"Yeah, I practically had to wrestle it out of him," Lindsey responded. "He knows I'm good for it and that I'll draw a crowd - even when school's not in session. How was your ride or whatever it was?"

"It was good. Raised a bunch of money. Lindsey's really popular with the college kids - and everyone else in town," Jonathan stage whispered to Wesley. "I don't know why you don't do it full-time, man," he said to Lindsey. "You're good enough."

"Because I don't want to. And the sooner the rest of you realize that, things will be a lot better off." But Wesley could see a bit of a blush creep into Lindsey's cheeks and could tell he was pleased.

"Did you get to hear him play in L.A.?" Jonathan asked Wesley.

"Once," Wesley replied, "but I regret that I didn't get to enjoy it as fully as I could have - I was dealing with some business at the time."

"And what do you do?"

"He's something of a private investigator," Lindsey replied.

"Well, if you're still in town on Thursday, you should definitely come hear him."

"I’m still uncertain of what will be happening then, but if I'm around I definitely will."

"Well, I better get going," Jonathan said. "I've got some stuff that needs doing since I just got back and David's planning on calling later and I don't want him to catch the answering machine. We should get together before you leave, Wesley. Have a blessed day, you two." He clapped them both on the shoulder and was off to his Harley.

"Jonathan's a great guy," Lindsey commented as they watched him ride off. "Even if he doesn't look it. Come on, we'll take your bike back to my place and then I'll show you around town if you'd like."

* * * * *

After a pleasant Saturday afternoon and Sunday, Monday finally rolled around. Wesley tried to contain his anxiety, not wanting Lindsey to worry even though he wasn't sure why he cared what Lindsey thought. He left about 2:30 to go to over to the medical center for his appointment. It ended up working to his advantage because Dr. Gonzales was running early that day due to a couple of cancellations and took him as soon as he was done filling out his paperwork.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce," she said warmly as she shut the door behind herself and Wesley seated himself on the examination table. "So, why don’t you tell me a little bit about what's going on."

"Well, I'm human on my father's side and Selkie on my mother's," Wesley began, remembering everything that his mother had drilled into him from an early age. "I'm also one of the not-as-rare-as-you'd-think hermaphrodites that result from such unions. Especially since my mother's clan seems to have a higher penchant for having such children."

Wesley took a breath before continuing, hoping he was getting everything right. "From an early age I've been taking a concoction of drugs to combat male hypogonadism, as well as to develop both sets of reproductive systems as much as possible. That way, I could make a conscious decision when I was ready as to which sex I would like to continue with. This concoction is administered in a fashion much like that of a Norplant implant."

"That sounds like a sensible way to do it," Dr. Gonzales commented as she jotted down some notes.

Wesley ran a hand through his hair and shrugged before continuing. "I was always too busy and too disinterested to make a decision on reproduction, although I did make one at the appropriate time to develop the secondary characteristics of a specific sex and, obviously, I chose male. In the end, biology made the choice for me. While I have many of the reproductive parts for both, only the female side actually works, even though I only have one ovary fallopian tube. Mixed in with my drugs is a type of birth control that also prevents menstrual bleeding."

"And how long would it take your menstrual cycle to bounce back if you stop your medication?"

"I'm able to conceive six months after stopping them. As it would appear, a little over six months ago, things were very hectic at work and it completely slipped my mind that I needed to go to the doctor's for a new dose of drugs. Almost two weeks ago, I had sex with a close friend of mine, and now I'm pregnant."

Dr. Gonzales continued jotting notes. "And the father, he's -?"

"A vampire," he responded casually. "With a soul," he added quickly.

"So you're on intimate terms with Angel?" she asked.

"You've heard of him?"

"Reports make it out here every once in a while," she said with a smile. "Gossip travels just as quickly in the demon world, as I'm sure you know. Now I know why your name sounded so familiar and I can see why a doctor's appointment wouldn't have seemed so important. But on the other hand... Have you been having regular gynecology exams?"

"Yes."

"And the last one was?"

"A year ago."

"Okay. We'll have to get your records from your former doctor, but I'm going to be doing a thorough exam of you, just for my own records. And good thing, you're my last patient for today - this might take a while."

* * * * *

About an hour later, Dr. Gonzales let Wesley get dressed again. As she was jotting down some final notes, she commented, "Your blood test results should be back in a few days, but if the rest of you is any indication, I'm sure they'll be fine. Now, I'll need you to make another appointment for two weeks from now so we can see how you're doing."

Wesley opened his mouth to explain that he wasn't planning on staying in town, but she pre-empted him before he could argue.

"There's a note here that says your mother would like me to give you a word of caution about moving on. I don't know why you would want to do such a thing as that especially when you're pregnant, even if you're only a week and a half along."

She shut the folder and turned to him, crossing her arms over her chest, giving him a stern look to keep him from interrupting. "You're going to need close medical attention, since your condition isn't exactly normal, no matter how many of your kind there are. I'm not trying to cause you distress, Wesley. I'm really not. I'm just trying to do what's best for both you and the baby. I'm sure you care at least a bit as well, or you wouldn't have kept the appointment. Am I right?"

"Yes," Wesley answered, somewhat penitent.

"Now, as I was saying, because your human side seems to be more dominant, and because of the hormones you've been taking for so long to regulate your system, we're going to have to keep a close eye on you. You're going to have to come in more often than a regular human female, but I'm confident that you and the baby will be just fine."

She ushered him back to the reception area. "So, I'll see you in two weeks. I'll have your blood test results back then and we'll see how you're doing. Call your old gyno to get your files out here. And remember to take your vitamins, especially 400 mgs of folic acid." She gave him a warm smile. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

* * * * *

When Wesley returned to Lindsey's apartment, Lindsey was already there, a frown creasing his brow. "What's wrong?" Wesley asked.

"I was just a little worried. Your things were still here, but you and your bike weren't. I thought you might've gone out for a ride and something happened." Lindsey sat down on one of the bar stools with a sigh.

Wesley laughed. "You're acting like a mother hen. I've been riding that bike for a few years now. Besides, I told you I had some things to take care of today." Wesley sat down next to him.

"How'd that go?"

"It went well. But my stay here's been prolonged for some time. I'll need some assistance in finding a place to stay."

"You can stay here," Lindsey remarked. "Like I've said before - my old roommate moved out in the fall, and I've been planning on looking for a new roommate soon, anyway. At least I already know you, sort of. Besides, it'll save you the hassle of finding a place and it’ll save us both some money - while living here's cheaper than L.A., it ain't free."

"I couldn't -"

"Wesley," Lindsey interrupted him. "Stop it. I know you don't want to stay in this town for however long it is you'll be here, and, even less, spend a lot of the time with me. But stop looking a gift horse in the mouth. Give it a chance and if you still don't want to be here after a reasonable amount of time, I'll help you find your own place. I'll even help you find a job if you want."

"Fine," Wesley replied with a sigh.

"Look - whatever it is that's bugging you, just let it out. If you have a problem with me, I want to hear it, especially if we're going to be living together for however long you're in town."

"Mostly, it's not about you and the stuff that's not about you, I don't want to talk about right now. I'm just not sure if I can trust you, knowing who you used to work for, at least some of the things you've done -" Wesley looked at Lindsey, who waited expectantly for him to continue - "and what you might do in the future."

Lindsey nodded. "That's totally understandable. I know I haven't done much to inspire confidence or trust from any of you, but I hope I can show you I'm sincere in changing this time and that I've been doing a pretty good job of it over the past two years."

"Yes, well... I don't trust quite so easily anymore."

"Well, I'm not Angel, so maybe that'll make the process a little easier." He stood. "Now come on. Jon wants to buy you dinner and get to know you a little better."

"Are you sure? He's your friend -"

"And wants to be yours as well - that's why he wants you to come to dinner with us. He said to make sure that I don't take no for an answer. How he knew you were staying with me, I have no idea, but he has an uncanny ability to know things about people sometimes. And he's like a big puppy when he gets his mind set on something."

Wesley finally gave in and went with Lindsey to the Stonewall Tavern. Jonathan greeted them both warmly before they settled into a booth. Wesley noted the dark wood and the warm lighting, which gave the place a comfortable feel.

"So how were your days?" Jonathan asked after he and Lindsey received their beers and Wesley got his water.

"Okay," Wesley replied. "I've gotten some of my business done, but realized it's going to keep me here longer than I anticipated."

"Oh? What kind of business is it?"

"It's rather personal at the moment."

Jonathan nodded as he took a sip of beer. "Lindsey?"

"Exasperating, as usual. It's becoming more and more evident that the demon files are in complete disarray, sorely neglected, and some of them haven't been touched in months, if not years. It's going to take some time to go through them and figure out what to do with them before actually proceeding with them. And it doesn't help that I continue to get new cases practically every day."

Wesley was surprised that Lindsey was so open to talk about the demonpopulation. But for all he knew, something may have happened that made Jonathan aware of it in the first place. The only way that people usually found out that demons were real was because they had a run in with one of them. He was interested in seeing what kind of experience Jonathan had had, since he seemed rather calm about the whole thing, but that could wait. "Don't you have anyone to help you?" he asked Lindsey.

"No," Lindsey confided. "The demon population in the area isn't *that* large, but I think the other employees are just prejudiced. They don't put it like that. It's usually, 'Lindsey, this case just came across my desk and I'm swamped at the moment. Will you take it?' Which is really code for, 'This is a demon case, which I don't want to touch, so I'm going to pass it off to you'. My office is crammed with *all* the demon files." He took a sip of his beer. "They're very hypocritical," he added, almost as an afterthought with a bit of a huff.

"Can't you hire someone?" Jonathan asked.

"Well, I'm allowed to, but when people hear what I do, they decide not to pursue - not even the pre-law students from OSU."

"I'll, uh, I'll do it," Wesley replied. "I know I don't know much about the law, especially in Oklahoma, but I'm sure I can help somehow."

"Okay, you're hired," Lindsey replied immediately. "But on a trial basis with an option to really hire you later on, since those are the rules."

"Are you kidding?" Wesley asked in surprise.

"Do I look like I'm kidding? I have the power to hire whoever I want. And it shouldn't be hard for you to pick up the stuff you need to know, since you won't actually be representing the cases or anything."

"I knew it was a good idea for us to have dinner," Jonathan said as their food was served. There was a pause in the conversation as Jonathan bowed his head for a moment before continuing. "Lindsey’s too stoic to say things sometimes," he commented to Wesley. "I think he does it because he thinks self-flagellation will help him atone for something."

"You're forgetting that I also secretly enjoy pain," Lindsey replied with a teasing tone in his voice.

The rest of the meal was spent talking about lighter topics, including differences between Stillwater and L.A. and Lindsey's performance abilities. Wesley enjoyed watching the easiness of the relationship between Lindsey and Jonathan and wished he could have that deep of a relationship with someone. Every once in a while he felt like Jonathan was trying to figure him out, but it was always done in such an easy and unassuming manner that Wesley didn't mind. By the end of the meal, he felt more comfortable with both men than he had with anyone else in a very long time. He was also beginning to see Lindsey in a different light than the one Angel, and Lindsey's actions, had painted for him before.

* * * * *

The next morning Wesley accompanied Lindsey into work. Lindsey got Wesley the paperwork to fill out and told his coworkers about the new addition to their office. They regarded Wesley with wary gazes and greeted him coolly. Once Wesley's papers had been given to the right person, he followed Lindsey into his office - or at least attempted to. Lindsey hadn't been kidding when he said that his office was crammed with files. They were covering every available flat space and piled rather high in some areas. There was a pair of filing cabinets against one wall that Lindsey informed him were also filled with files.

"I'm sorry about my coworkers. They're usually much friendlier. The coffee machine must be broke again," Lindsey commented as he waded to his desk.

"How do you even do work?" Wesley asked from the doorway as he surveyed the mess.

"Very carefully," Lindsey replied. "The cases I'm working on at the moment are here on my desk. The others - who knows?"

"How do you keep track of them all?"

"Pure luck."

"I have an idea, come on." Wesley left and Lindsey followed, curious as to what was happening.

"Where are we going?" Lindsey asked as they left the building.

"Office supply store. You *do* have a budget, correct?"

"Yes, but I've never used it, so I'm not exactly sure how much I have." Lindsey got in his truck and unlocked Wesley's door for him.

"Well, I don't think we're going to completely bankrupt you if we get some things to organize your files," Wesley commented as he got in and fastened his seatbelt. "You *do* have a desk and a chair, correct?"

"Yes, I do," Lindsey replied, amused, as he started the truck. "And a laptop as well - I think. If I do, I've only seen it once."

The trip to the office supply store was a rather fruitful one. They stocked up on the normal items needed to run an office properly and also picked up four more filing cabinets, hoping they would be enough. When they got back to the office, they cleared some space next to the original filing cabinets for the new ones and then cleared a space next to Lindsey's desk so Wesley could have room to work.

"Okay," Lindsey said when that had been done. "The first thing we need to do is to get this stuff into some kind of order. Then we can start following up on the cases and evaluating them to see if we can actually help these people, so I can start pursuing resolution for the cases. Most of these will probably reach some type of out-of-court settlement, which is usually the easiest to deal with. But you'd be surprised at what some people will fight." He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "Let's get to work."

* * * * *

By the end of Thursday, they had finally gone through all the files and had been able to fit them in the six filing cabinets in alphabetical order. Lindsey had also begun to compile a database on his laptop for quicker access. He had also started coaching Wesley in how to process the files as they came in and how to do different follow-up procedures to help things go quicker.

"Whoever thought that computers would lead to a paperless society has obviously never been in this law office," Lindsey commented.

Wesley let out a chuckle as he leaned back in his chair. "I am very glad that job's done. I think my eyes were going to cross permanently if I had to look at another file. Researching all night was easier, I think."

"At least we have room to breathe now," Lindsey commented as he hit save on the computer and looked about the now rather spartanly furnished room. "Next on the 'To Do' list should be to get you your own desk and stuff." He glanced at his watch. "And it's time to go home. I really wish we could take tomorrow off, but we need to get moving on the files." He turned off the laptop and gathered up his things. "Besides, I need to get going to do a quick sound check as well. You can come if you want, but you don't have to." Lindsey stood.

Wesley shrugged as he also stood. "I'll come. I would like to hear you perform."

They started to leave. "You sure?"

"When I agree to something, with or without prior argument, I usually am."

Lindsey locked up the offices as they were the last to leave and they headed out to his truck. "I just don't want you to be bored," he said after a pause.

"Why would I be?"

"I don't know. You just don't seem like the type that likes to hang out in bars."

"I'm sure there's a lot about me that doesn't fit whatever type you've put me into. I rather enjoy going to bars."

"I'm slowly finding these things out."

* * * * *

Once they got home they both changed quickly. Lindsey grabbed his guitar and they headed to the Stonewall Tavern. There were only a few patrons in the bar when they got there. Wesley took a seat at the bar and watched as Lindsey talked to Bob for a couple of minutes before going up to the little stage. Some mics were already set up, which Lindsey adjusted them. Then he tuned his guitar and played a few bars of several songs so Bob could set some levels.

Once they were done, Lindsey came over and he and Wesley had dinner. While they ate, more people started coming in and most came over to talk to Lindsey. He didn't mind the constant interruptions and talked with everyone openly and warmly. He even took a few song requests, which he jotted down on a napkin.

Wesley, much to his own surprise, enjoyed watching Lindsey interact with the locals. Seeing him so open and friendly went against the picture he had in his mind of Lindsey. Lindsey was definitely not the personification of evil, but seemed to be as human as anyone else Wesley had met - and obviously, more so than Lilah. As they finished eating, a young woman took the stage and smiled in their direction.

"Good evening, everyone," she said. "Welcome to the Stonewall Tavern. We've got a great performer for y'all tonight, who most of you know and have heard before. Give a warm welcome to Lindsey McDonald."

Lindsey got up and headed to the stage amidst enthusiastic clapping and scattered whistling. "Hey y'all," Lindsey said with a wide grin and an accent that seemed more pronounced than Wesley remembered. He grabbed his guitar and quickly checked its tuning. "So since y'all seem to think I'm a deejay or a jukebox that you don't have to pay," there was a slight pause for some scattered laughter, "I'm going to start with a request. This is for Jenny, the light of Mike's life." There was some more laughter as he started playing and he looked up. "Don't look at me - he wanted me to say that." He continued playing and sung a romantic ballad that Wesley didn't recognize.

* * * * *

About an hour later, Lindsey stopped and said, "Okay, I'm going to take a break. I'll be back in fifteen." He put his guitar back on its stand and headed back to where he and Wesley had been sitting. When he got there, he found that Jonathan had joined Wesley and they were chatting.

"I didn't think you were going to make it," Lindsey commented as the bartender passed him a glass of ice water. He thanked him and then drained it quickly.

"I almost didn't," Jonathan replied good-naturedly. "David's in town for the weekend."

"So where is the stud?" Lindsay asked before ordering a beer.

"At home asleep. He was up early this morning doing some work at the mission before he had to catch his flight. I tried to get him to come, but he konked out not long after we finished eating. You probably won't see much of me this weekend."

"Well, it's not like he hasn't heard me before. I think you'll like David," he said to Wesley. "You'll have to meet him one of these weekends he comes out - if Jon here ever quits hogging all his time."

"Sorry, man, but I get priority, you know that." Wesley could see the mirth in Jonathan's eyes. "Good set. You sure know how to pick 'em."

"Thanks. What do you think?" he asked Wesley, who was fiddling with his straw.

"I really enjoyed it," Wesley replied. "You've got quite a talent."

"Damn straight he does," Jonathan interceded. "Maybe you could convince him that's his true calling in life and not lawyering."

"If you haven't had any luck yet, I highly doubt I'm going to be much of an influence on him. But you definitely have a gift," he told Lindsey.

Lindsey blushed slightly and smiled before turning to someone who had tapped him on the shoulder. For the first time in what seemed like an age, Wesley was beginning to feel like he was at home.

* * * * *

The next morning Wesley awoke with a start and made a mad dash to the bathroom. He was able to get to the toilet before his insides expunged all the food he had eaten in the past two years from his system. He stayed huddled by the toilet until the nausea passed before getting up to wash his face and brush his teeth. When he wandered back into his room, he squinted at the clock. 5:45 am. He sighed and crawled back into bed to try and at least rest until he had to get up at 7:30. If he had doubted the reality of his situation before, he definitely didn't now.

When he finally appeared in the kitchen two hours later, Lindsey gave him a quizzical look.

"What?" he asked as he put some bread in the toaster and gathered sandwich items to make lunch while he waited.

"You feeling okay?" Lindsey asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Because you look pale as a ghost. Are you sure?"

"Yes." Wesley's toast popped and he moved to butter it.

"Do you feel okay enough to go into work today?"

"*Yes*," he said, exasperated. "Look, if I didn't feel well enough to go into work, I wouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning. So please, stop asking."

"Okay. I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure."

* * * * *

At work they began going through the files to figure out which ones they could pursue, which ones had been filed by the same party multiple times (of which there were quite a few - a testimony to the neglect the department was in), and which ones were moot at that point for various reasons. And, as Lindsey had told Wesley, a few new cases were brought in by others on the staff. None of them lingered - they stayed long enough to drop off the case, quickly turn on their heel, and leave.

"I really should circulate word that demons should just call my office line and not the main line," Lindsey commented after the third case was brought in. "It would save a bunch of hassle for a number of people."

"What's the demon population like around here?" Wesley asked he finished jotting some notes on a file and as Lindsey opened a file on the laptop for the new case.

"Pretty quiet," Lindsey replied, eyes on the computer screen and fingers tapping away. "They keep to themselves, mostly, but there are times - as evidenced by those six filing cabinets - when our worlds collide. Here it seems that most of the problems are human instigated, rather than the other way around."

"That's interesting. It's quite unusual for this situation to work."

"I know. But somehow it does and I'm happy for it. Even with the icy coworkers, lower pay, and smaller office, I'd rather be doing this job than the one at Wolfram & Hart. Besides, I have job security here since no one else wants these cases."

"And how did you get away from Wolfram & Hart?"

"Holland. He drew up my contract himself and didn’t include the clause for my life and afterlife, so they didn’t own me. I think he figured that with the way my life was before he met me, I'd do whatever it took to stay away from that. He probably figured I'd be one of the ones to voluntarily pledge my life to the firm. How'd you get away from Angel? You seemed pretty devoted to the cause when I left."

"And I still am. But things happened that I don't feel comfortable discussing and here I am."

Lindsey scrutinized Wesley for a long moment before replying, "I'll let it slide for now, but I do want to know, and should know, especially since we're going to be living, and working, together."

By the end of the week they had started what would become a comfortable routine. They would go into work together, have lunch together, unless Lindsey was called away for business. Wesley would usually have to pry Lindsey away from work around 6 p.m. and convince him to not take any work home, unless it was vitally important. Then one of them would usually make dinner. The only times they would leave early were if Lindsey had a gig that evening.

* * * * *

That Saturday, another routine started, that of Wesley accompanying Lindsey to his gigs, and becoming the center of attention for Lindsey's "fan club". Jonathan would meet them wherever Lindsey was playing and introduce Wesley to the other locals who would come to hear Lindsey.

Wesley quickly picked up that Lindsey had a core group that would come to see every show and would usually come up and talk with him either before or after the show. It was always amusing to hear about things like Doreen's two small children and Lorraine's work problems at the bank. Things were so mundane compared to what he was used to dealing with in the demon world. Wesley was also surprised at how quickly he was accepted into their lives. Even though they had no reason not to accept him, it was still unfamiliar territory for him.

In the evenings and after shows they'd relax in front of the TV, watching movies and/or late night talk shows and comment on them or make small talk about the things they were finding they had in common. Lindsey never questioned why Wesley was still in Stillwater and not with Angel or back in England, why he never drank alcohol, or the reasoning behind his need to have off from 2:30-4:30 every other Monday for "personal business".

Wesley would usually call Elisa right after his doctor's appointments to give her the scoop on what was going on, which usually wasn’t much, just that things were still going fine. Well, at least not until the beginning of Wesley's fifth full week in Stillwater when he came back to the office from his third "personal business" outing since his arrival in town.

As Wesley shut the office door behind himself and Lindsey finished a phone call with a client, Lindsey said, "I need to talk to you and I need you to be honest."

"Okay," Wesley replied as he sat down in his usual spot at one end of Lindsey's desk.

"What's going on here? Why aren't you in England or L.A. or wherever Angel is? And what this 'personal business' that you're dealing with?"

"I'd rather not talk about it here - not with the others around." It wasn't that Wesley especially cared what the others thought, he just didn't want his dirty laundry to be aired around co-workers.

Lindsey looked at his watch. "Fine. Then we're going to make an early evening of it here and go get this thing resolved."

Wesley waited patiently as Lindsey gathered up his things and closed up for the night. Part of him was relieved that it was finally coming out. He knew that things would be much easier if his heritage was out in the open with Lindsey. The only other people that knew about his mixed heritage were his mother, his doctors, and Angel and in each case, it was out of necessity. He had become so used to ignoring that his "other" side with the world at large, that it was odd to voluntarily put it out in the open. But, at the same time, he was somewhat nervous. He wasn't sure how Lindsey would react. And, while he was sure that Lindsey would be okay with everything, there was always a chance that things would go pear-shaped. Wesley was relieved when they pulled up in front of the Stonewall Tavern - at least this way Lindsey would have to be somewhat civil since they were in public.

"So what's going on?" Lindsey asked once they were seated.

"Well, Angel doesn't know I'm here," Wesley stated. "And he'd probably care more about why I left than who I was keeping company with. Since you left, we've been to Pylea, Lorne's home dimension, and Angel and Darla had a son - a *human* son - who was taken to a hell dimension and then miraculously brought back. Then there was a rain of fire, a huge Beast, the destruction of the L.A. branch of Wolfram & Hart, the beginning and end of world peace known as Jasmine, and the L.A. branch of Wolfram & Hart was given to us to do with as we see fit."

"Wow," Lindsey said before taking a long pull of his beer. "How's Lilah?"

"Dead," Wesley replied grimly. "Cordelia killed her when she went evil. When Cordelia went evil that is. And Lilah and I were in a... relationship while most of this was going on." Wesley steeled himself from the emotions that were still raw.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Lindsey said. "So, tell me about Angel's kid."

Over dinner, Wesley recounted everything about Connor. That fed into his also telling Lindsey about the other events that had happened in L.A. in relation to him, including the mind-wipe that had been done on them. He didn't mention, though, his relationship with Angel. That would come out soon enough. Lindsey didn't say much through the story aside from ask a few questions. There were a few moments of silence after Wesley finished. Wesley felt relieved that he had finally been able to share everything that had happened with someone who wasn't there, yet would be able to understand. He was still worried about how Lindsey would handle the fact that he was pregnant and had had an intimate relationship with Angel, but he felt as if he had been giving a bit of absolution in the telling of this tale.

"Wow," Lindsey finally managed. "It's definitely been a crazy two years for you guys. But that still doesn't tell me why you're here."

Wesley paused as the check was placed on the table and Lindsey picked it up. "I don't know -"

"Yes, you can," Lindsey pulled out his wallet and paid for it.

"Not here."

"Fine. When we get home."

* * * * *

Once home, Wesley sank down on the couch and ran a hand over his face. "I left because of my relationship with Angel - or lack thereof. I'll admit that I'm bisexual and that I've had the equivalent of a school girl's crush on Angel since I arrived in L.A. -"

"Which, knowing Angel, is easy to understand," Lindsey commented as he sat down beside Wesley and put a hand on Welsey's knee to reassure him. "Go on."

Wesley tensed for a second, then relaxed. He knew he shouldn't be surprised, Lindsey had shown himself to be very tactile in a solely platonic way with practically everyone. "Well, not long after the... incident with Faith - the first one - we began to have a more intimate relationship. It was really nothing more than Angel using me as a means of release, even if I continually hoped one day that would not be the case.

"The encounters became less frequent when the Beast arrived on the scene and, thankfully, stopped during the Angelus period - though Angelus did taunt me mercilessly. We resumed after Angel was returned to control. A week before I arrived here was our last encounter. Just before I left, I became aware that I was pregnant and, not thinking straight, I just took off and left L.A., headed for anywhere but there."

"You're what?!? That's not possible!" Lindsey pushed himself off the couch and looked at Wesley wide-eyed.

"Not normally, no. But I'm not totally normal, either. I'm half Selkie, from my mother. My mother's clan - she's a Scottish Selkie - has a genetic anomaly in a high number of their male hybrid offspring. Where when we're born, we're very close to being true hermaphrodites. Inside, I have parts of both reproductive systems. For instance, I have a vagina, a uterus, one ovary, and one fallopian tube. I also have a number of the normal components of the male reproductive system, but I don't have them all, so therefore I am infertile as a male, but still viable as a female."

"And what about your kids?"

"They'll be perfectly normal. Well, unless I mate with a Klingon or something," Wesley said lightly, giving Lindsey a smile.

"I'll accept for now that the possibility's there, since I can't exactly open you up and look and we both know I've seen too much to say differently. But if you're a hermaphrodite, why don't you have, you know...." he gestured to his chest, pretending to cup invisible breasts, "breasts or look more feminine?"

"Modern medical miracles. The clan, out of necessity, has developed a mix of hormones that allows the secondary sex traits of an individual's chosen sex to develop and keep both reproductive systems viable while suppressing the other sex's characteristics. Birth control is also added if necessary/desired. It's administered much like Norplant."

Lindsey looked at him blankly. "What’s Norplant?"

"It’s a form of birth control that’s administered through time release capsules that are placed just under the skin: in my case, it’s in the inside of the upper arm."

"But if you're taking these hormones and, I'm assuming, the birth control, how did you get pregnant?"

"I've been taking the hormones for as long as I can remember and I'll have to take them for the rest of my life, but I have to get a new dose once every five years. I was due to get a new dose when everything started happening in L.A. I couldn't very well say, 'Excuse me, can we take a time out? I need to get my hormones and birth control renewed'. It honestly slipped my mind."

"And how is it that *Angel's* the father *and* that the baby's human?"

"I don't know. We could research it to death, but I doubt we'll find anything. After Connor, I'm inclined to believe that Angel's seed is different. Besides, no matter how bollocksed our relationship was, Angel's the only one I've slept with aside from Lilah."

"And the baby's healthy?"

"As far as the doctor can tell at this point. That's where I've been going every other Monday, to see Dr. Gonzales. She specializes in demon pregnancies and demon pediatrics."

Lindsey hesitated for a moment and looked at Wesley's stomach before moving closer and kneeling. "Could, um, I touch it?"

Wesley stared at Lindsey for a moment. Of all the possible responses that hadn't been the one he'd expected. It hadn't even been a possibility. After blinking a few more times, he finally found his voice. "Yes, but there's nothing there to see or feel yet. I'm only five and a half weeks along." He lifted up his shirt.

Lindsey tentatively ran a hand lightly over Wesley's flat stomach, his fingers lingering for a second on the scar from the gunshot. "Do the others know?" he asked quietly.

"No," Wesley put a hand on top of Lindsey's, the touch oddly comforting. "I haven't figured out how to tell them. And I have to be careful. They don't remember anything about Connor and I don't want to bring that back into their lives and complicate things if they have a chance for a little more happiness."

"Are you going to tell Angel?"

"I -" Wesley paused. "I don't know. I feel that he should know, since this is his son. But a part of me doesn't want that for this child, to have the burden of having Angel as a father. Not because I want to be selfish and keep it all to myself, but I highly doubt that Angel's ready to be a father, if he's even capable of it."

"How can you be certain? Babies do strange things to people."

"I know, but after Connor.... I don't want to put him through the possibility of anything like that happening again."

"But even if he is a shoddy father, shouldn't he be given the chance?"

Wesley pulled away from Lindsey and sat back against the couch. "I don't know. While part of me wants to give this child both its natural parents, I feel I would be doing it a great disservice if I did so. I don't have to make this decision this second. I have just under eight months before I really need to decide, if even then."

"Well, you can stay here as long as you'd like, as long as you pull your fair share." Lindsey gave him a smile. "And I'll admit, the pregnancy explains a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"The not drinking alcohol, the way you look in the morning - morning sickness?"

"Very early."

"The vitamin supplements, the almost preternaturally good eating habits..."

"My eating habits are not 'preternaturally good', they're just better than yours."

"Guinness is good for you."

"Maybe during the Irish Potato Famine."

Lindsey laughed. "Could I -" He paused and Wesley could see the wheels turning in Lindsey's mind. "Could I maybe be a part of this? I'm not asking to become a permanent fixture in your life, I just want to be a part of this miracle."

Wesley looked at Lindsey for a long moment while his mind warred with itself. He had come to know the other man as being intensely passionate at times, very friendly and open, and giving to a fault. More than once Lindsey had opened the apartment to a demon that needed a place to stay for the night, or had given it money out of his own pocket. 'Yes' would leave his lips before the request was finished. He was also a fierce fighter for the rights of his clients and got more results than anyone else in the office.

At the same time, Wesley was afraid that it was just a facade. 'But hasn't Angel done worse than Lindsey?' a voice asked from the back of his mind. He made the decision to trust Lindsey. "Okay," he finally conceded. "But am I going to have to worry that you're going to spoil it rotten?"

"Well, that's going to depend on whether or not you stay after the baby's born."

"And you can't spoil it before?"

"Don't go giving me ideas, now. Have you decided whether or not you're going to find out the sex of the baby?"

"Probably. But that doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to tell you. Might be fun to keep you guessing for a couple months."

"What are you going to tell other people? Because you are going to start showing sooner or later."

"I don't know. The truth would be harder to swallow, but easier in the long run, especially when I show up with a baby."

"Well, if you don't tell anyone here beforehand, you could always say that we've been secret lovers for years. Then we finally decided to take the plunge and move in together and adopt. And since we wanted to have as much of the experience as possible, we decided to enroll in a program that walked us through what the pregnancy would be like for the birthmother and you decided to be the pregnant one."

Wesley laughed. "I think living with you is starting to rub off because that actually made sense."

Lindsey smiled. "I'll support you no matter what and I know Jon will, as well."

"Thanks. That means a lot."

Wesley's cellphone rang. "Hello?"

"Where the hell have you been?" a feminine voice in Gaelic asked.

"Hello to you, too, Mum," he replied in Gaelic. "I'm sorry. Lindsey and I went out for dinner and I ended up explaining everything to him."

"Lindsey? Have you mentioned him before?"

"Probably. He's my roommate. I met him a few years ago in L.A."

"Oh, right. The lawyer. So how did the doctor's appointment go?"

"Just fine. The baby's doing well and so am I."

"That's good. Put Lindsey on."

"My mum wants to talk to you," Wesley said in English as he handed Lindsey his cellphone.

"Are you sure?" Lindsey asked, scooting next to Wesley.

"Yes, I'm sure. And don't worry, she does speak English."

"Hello?" Lindsey asked shakily as he took the phone from Wesley.

"Hello, Lindsey," Elisa said warmly. "This is Elisa, Wesley's mum. How are you?"

"Good. How are you?"

"I'm doing good. Thank you for being so kind as to allow my son to live with you."

Lindsey smiled and sat back down on the couch, putting a hand back on Wesley's knee. "Like I told Wesley, it's not a problem. It works out really well for both of us."

"I'm glad to hear that. So you two are getting along well?"

"Yes, we are."

"Good, good. Well, I'll let you two go. Give Wesley my love."

"I will. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, Lindsey."

Lindsey ended the call and handed the phone back to Wesley. "Your mom sends her love." He paused for a moment. "You know what?"

"What?" Wesley asked, although he figured the question was really supposed to be rhetorical.

"I think I think I'm going to go off the alcohol, too."

"Why? I'm the pregnant one."

"I know, but I want to be supportive. And I know this is one of the ways that I can do it."

"Well, thank you."

"You're welcome."

* * * * *

The next morning, a minute or two after Wesley made his morning dash to the bathroom, he was joined by Lindsey. He put a cool, damp cloth against the back of Wesley’s neck and handed him another one to use on his face. Neither said anything, but Lindsey stayed with Wesley as he rode out the nausea and rubbed gentle circles on Wesley’s back, hoping to give him a bit of comfort. After Wesley was done, they wordlessly returned to their rooms. This continued the next morning and the next. Neither one ever talked about it, but both knew Wesley appreciated Lindsey's presence and took comfort in it.

* * * * *

That Friday they were able to experience a bit of welcome downtime. Jonathan met Lindsey and Wesley for a small barbeque their apartment complex was having in honor of the Fourth of July.

"So, how long have you been in America, Wesley?" Jonathan asked, after swallowing a bite of hot dog.

"Just over four years," he replied before taking a sip of his lemonade. "And before you ask, no, I haven't celebrated the Fourth of July before. Something always came up."

"I'm sure you'll enjoy the fireworks tonight. They're usually really amazing."

As it started to get dark, a few of the children started to play with sparklers as everyone made their way over to the OSU campus to watch the fireworks. After settling on their blanket on the grass, Lindsey scooted closer to Wesley and casually let one of his hands brush against Wesley's thigh, but didn't take it away. Wesley smiled to himself, but didn't move Lindsey’s hand either. He had quickly given up trying to analyze why Lindsey was always touching him. He guessed it was just a way that Lindsey was able to assure himself Wesley was there and doing okay.

He also didn't mind too much, because it made him realize there really was someone who cared about him and it wasn't just a figment of his imagination. He didn't get a chance to dwell on it too much longer, as the fireworks started. And, as Jonathan had said, the fireworks show was amazing.

* * * * *

Wesley's first trimester progressed uneventfully for the most part. Dr. Gonzales was happy because he seemed to be having a textbook pregnancy. After his fourth appointment, at seven and a half weeks, he met Lindsey at the OSU student union where he was emceeing an open mic night for the summer session.

"How was the doctor's appointment?" Lindsey asked, coming up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Fine as usual," Wesley said with a smile. "I've lost a pound or two because of the morning sickness, but Dr. Gonzales said that that's to be expected." He sat down to watch Lindsey finish getting set up.

When he was finished, Lindsey sank down next to Wesley. "Can I ask you something?" he asked.

"As long as it's not to perform, sure," Wesley replied.

"No worries there. I think tonight's going to be pretty booked. I was just thinking about this whole Selkie/human thing and I was wondering - is it possible for there to be, like, a YY baby?"

Wesley thought for a moment. "I wouldn't be surprised. Not that I've ever heard of any human ones. Fish, maybe." He gave Lindsey a small smile. "As far as I know, no. There may have been, but they may have ended in miscarriages because of the lack of the genes on the X chromosome. Anything else?"

"What about your baby? Will he or she have to take all the medicine that you do?"

"No, actually. That's one of the weird things. He or she will be perfectly normal, whatever sex they inherit. Well, the possibility of any of the more normal defects aside." Wesley gave a slight shrug. "And if any of those come up, I think I'll be able to deal, after what I've been through. I have to give my mother a lot of credit, though. Not only did she have to keep track of all my medicine, but she had to keep it hidden from my father. As far as he knows, I'm perfectly normal other than being a half-breed."

"Do you wish that he knew?"

"I don't know. Honestly, though? The less I think about my father, the better."

"I know what you mean. So you're doing okay, otherwise?"

"Yes, I am. I’m a bit tired, with the morning sickness and the hormonal changes, but I should get used to that soon."

"Remember to call your mom before it gets to be too late."

"I know. And you can call her Elisa. You talk to her almost as much as I do lately."

* * * * *

On Tuesday evening a week later, as they entered the apartment after work, Lindsey finally said in exasperation, "You know, it's been almost two months. I think you should at least call Angel or Cordelia or whoever and let them know you're still alive." He put his satchel down on the bar in the kitchen. "Haven't they tried to call you?"

"I don't know," Wesley admitted. "I usually keep my phone off unless we're talking with my mum. And, honestly, I don't know if I care if they think I'm dead."

"But you said after all the Connor stuff, things were starting to get better."

"Yes, but that was also after the mind-wipe. So, in a way, it was under false pretenses. While they perceived that they had done a wrong to me, they didn't remember the real reasons behind it. I don't want that kind of a relationship."

"Then why don't you tell them the truth?"

"I'd rather them be delusional than unhappy."

"I don't get you." Lindsey shook his head and started to unbutton his shirt as he headed toward his room. "I still think you should call them," he yelled back.

As much as Wesley hated to admit it, Lindsey was right. Even though a lot had really happened between himself and Gunn and Fred, and he didn't regret just leaving them, for some reason he felt he owed still owed it to them, after all that they had been through together to know he was still alive. And this way, he would have a chance to break it to them that he more than likely wasn't coming back.

He glanced at his watch, though he didn't know why he did so - he knew that they would still be at Wolfram & Hart. He went into his room and shut the door behind him before grabbing his cellphone and checking his voicemail, which he hadn’t since he left L.A. His inbox was overflowing with messages, most from Fred and a couple from Gunn. Both expressed concern over Wesley's whereabouts and well-fare and what was going on. The messages were pretty frequent in the beginning, at least one, if not two a day. After two weeks, they petered down to one every other day, and then after the first month, one a week. There were none from Angel.

He dialed the familiar number to Fred's lab, deciding to call her first and then Gunn. After two rings, Fred picked up. "Hello?" she asked distractedly.

"Hello, Fred," he replied casually, as if he hadn't been absent from her life for almost two months.

"Wesley!" He could hear the excitement in her voice. "Hold on a moment." He heard her shuffle around a bit before pressing a button. "I put you on the speakerphone. Gunn's here too."

"Where the hell have you been, man?" Gunn asked.

"Stillwater, Oklahoma," Wesley replied.

"What's in Stillwater?"

"Personal business."

"That's taken you two months?" Fred asked skeptically.

"Well, it's going to take a while longer. I don't know when I'll be back." Wesley laid back on his bed. "I just wanted to let you two know I was all right."

"But you left without telling us or anything," Fred replied wistfully.

"I know and I'm sorry. I just had to get out of L.A. and clear my head."

"Can you tell us what's going on?" Gunn asked. "Or is it some kind of covert op?"

"No to both." Wesley sighed. "Well, I could tell you, but it's not something I'm comfortable discussing at this time."

"Do you think you'll ever be coming back?" Fred asked.

"I honestly don't know. If I do, it'll most likely be at least a year."

"Well, thanks for calling, man." Wesley could hear the disappointment and hurt in Gunn's voice. "So you going to disappear again for a while?"

"I might - but don't take it personally, either of you. It really isn't about you."

"Have you talked to Angel yet?" Fred asked.

"Not yet. Should I be expecting something?"

"I don't know,” Fred replied. “He hasn't talked about you at all since you left. He's almost pretending that you don't exist though he hasn't replaced you or let anyone touch your office."

"Hmm. Thanks for letting me know. I should call him now."

"Okay. Keep in touch, okay?" Fred replied sadly.

"I'll try my best."

After saying their good-byes, Wesley disconnected the call and then let the phone and his hand drop to the bed with a sigh. A few moments later, he called Angel's cellphone and left a message on his voicemail. He then called Angel's office and left a message there as well, telling Angel he was safe, that he wouldn't be coming back for a while and to call him back.

* * * * *

At the beginning of the third month, the morning sickness started to ease up a bit and, under Lindsey's watchful eye, Wesley began to gain a little weight back. Lindsey had taken it upon himself to make sure Wesley ate well and took his vitamins, as well as giving him lists of questions to ask Dr. Gonzales. Wesley finally invited him along for his week 10 appointment.

When Dr. Gonzales retrieved Wesley from the waiting room, she also greeted Lindsey with a smile as he followed. She said, "So you must be Angel," she said. "It's an honor to finally meet you."

Wesley tried to hide a snicker as Lindsey smiled and politely replied, "Actually, I'm not Angel - he's still in L.A. I'm just a friend of Wesley's."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed." They paused in the small hallway. "This time I have you scheduled for a couple routine tests, Wesley. We're going to be doing a quad screening blood test to check some of your hormone levels and look for some genetic abnormalities, a PAPPA to also look for genetic abnormalities, and in one fell swoop, we're also going to do a CVS." She handed Wesley a small cup. "You know the routine."

As Wesley went into the bathroom for a urine test, Lindsey asked, "What's the point of all the tests? If they're all testing for basically the same thing, isn't it over-kill?"

"Possibly, but in Wesley's situation as someone of mixed heritage, we can't be too careful. I want to make sure both father and child are, and remain, healthy. And if something's wrong, to have a chance to fix it. But with how Wesley's doing, I'm not too worried. He seems to be having a textbook pregnancy so far. I wish I had more patients like him."

She took the cup from Wesley when he came out and had him step on the scale. "Looks like you've gained another pound, Wesley, which is good. We can also use the ultrasound today to see how the baby's coming along." She ushered them into an examination room and started to prepare Wesley to take some blood samples.

"Really?" Wesley could hear the first hint of excitement in Lindsey's voice, usually only detectable to those who knew him well.

"Yes, really." She smiled warmly. "But I thought it was usually the pregnant one who was the most excited to see the baby for the first time."

"Lindsey's just a baby person," Wesley commented. He remembered how Lindsey had to fight to keep his professional exterior whenever clients would bring their small children along.

"I had to be," Lindsey commented. "You try being one of six kids and see if it doesn't rub off on you." Dr. Gonzales pulled out the needle and put a bandage on the wound, then excused herself to take care of the blood. Lindsey turned to Wesley, joy evident on his face. "This is so exciting. I never thought I'd be a part of something like this."

Wesley looked at him, amused. "I'd have thought you would settle down and have a few kids. Especially with the way some of the girls look at you."

"Really?" Lindsey replied, a mixture of disdain and curiosity in his voice. "They're great, but definitely not my type. Most of them are a little too flaky for my taste. And I never saw myself that way."

"Why not? You'd make a great family man."

"Eh, I don't know. Guess I figured any kids would deserve someone more stable than me for a father. What about you?"

"The same, I think. Or, at the very least, that I wouldn't be having any children biologically."

Before Lindsey could reply, Dr. Gonzales came back in. "So how would you like to do the CVS, Wesley?" she asked. "We could go in through the vagina or use a needle through the stomach."

"Let's go through the vagina," he replied. "I'm not that fond of seeing needles stuck in me."

Before she did anything, Lindsey asked, "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but doesn't a technician or somebody else do this?"

"Normally, yes," Dr. Gonzales replied patiently. "But I've had a hard time keeping capable technicians that don't mind dealing with demon patients. So to make things easier, I've learned how to do it all myself."

Once the procedure was done, Dr. Gonzales began going through the examination. "The only thing that's concerning me so far, Wesley, is that your uterus is only about three-quarters of the size a normal woman's would be. This concerns me because it could impede the baby's growth and development as well as the possibility of a natural birth. There isn't much we can do right now, but we'll have to monitor the baby's growth with a close eye to determine if we need to take action."

"What type of action?" Lindsey asked.

"Mostly likely, we'll do a C-section and put the baby in the preemie section of the nursery. You seem to be doing just fine, though," she said to Wesley as she set up the ultrasound machine and prepared Wesley's stomach. When she began moving the sensor over Wesley's lower abdomen, they didn't see anything right away. Then an image popped onto the screen and she explained what they were seeing. When asked if they wanted a picture, they both agreed enthusiastically.

As they headed out to the truck, Lindsey stared at the images of the baby. "This is just... amazing," he kept repeating. "I can't believe this is actually happening. This is going up on the fridge. Or maybe I'll frame it and take it to the office."

"You'll do no such thing," Wesley replied sternly as he got in the truck and took the pictures away from Lindsey. "I'll allow the fridge, but not the office."

"Once the baby's born, I'd like to see you stop me from taking pictures to the office."

Wesley laughed. "If I didn't know better, I could swear that you *were* this child's other father." Lindsey smiled, but didn't respond as he maneuvered around the afternoon traffic. As Wesley sobered, he realized the truth behind his words. Lindsey really was acting like a father. Since finding out, the only thing that seemed to stop him from being so was the fact that he wasn't biologically the father. But Wesley knew that there was more than one way to be a parent.

* * * * *

Once they got back to the office, the staff was in a bit of a frenzy. "You have a client waiting in your office," Martha, the secretary, commented tersely.

"Thank you," Lindsey replied calmly as they headed in. A chaos demon was sitting in one of the guest chairs in front of Lindsey's desk. He stood when he heard them enter.

"I'm sorry for distressing your staff," he said.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Mesanek," Lindsey replied. "They're just not used to seeing such a handsome fellow like yourself. Why don't we have a seat and we’ll discuss your case?"

As they sat down, the demon said, "I think we've known each other long enough that you can call me Marty, Lindsey. Plus, I live down the hall from you. You don't call your neighbors by their last name."

"Fine, then," Lindsey replied with a smile, "destroy my attempt at showing some respect. Marty, this is Wesley - he's my assistant. I knew Wesley when I lived back in L.A."

"Nice to meet you," Wesley replied with a smile as they shook hands.

"Good to meet you as well," Marty returned. "Lindsey's told me a lot about you the last few times we've met. And, before you ask, it's a glandular problem." He pointed up to his dry antlers.

"Hadn't even noticed," Wesley replied with a smile.

"I like this one, Lindsey," Marty replied as he clasped Wesley on the shoulder.

* * * * *

On the way home, Lindsey remarked, "I don't care what you do about the folks at the office, but it might be a good idea for you to bring this whole thing up to Jonathan sooner rather than later. You know what he's like - needs to know everything."

"Yeah, I know." Wesley gave him an amused smile. "But this is still very unreal for me."

"Do you want me to tell him?"

"No, no. I'll do it. Just not sure when."

* * * * *

A week later, Jonathan called on Thursday and invited Wesley out for lunch while Lindsey had to attend an interoffice meeting. Upon meeting in the parking lot, Jonathan gave Wesley a hug. "How are you doing?"

"Good. You?" Wesley asked.

"Today's been wonderful. What kind of bike is that?"

"Um... a Big Dog?" Wesley gave Jonathan a sheepish look. "I'm sorry. I don't know much about bikes aside from how to ride one and when to have enough pride to say 'I think it's broken'." Jonathan laughed. "What kind of bike is that?"

"It's a 2003 Harley Springer Softail FXSTS. And, hey, you gotta start somewhere."

After their food arrived and watching what appeared to be Jonathan say grace, Wesley asked, "I don't mean to pry, but are you a Christian?"

"Yes, I am," Jonathan replied with a smile. "And I don't mind you prying. I go to the Church of Christ over on North Duck. David's actually the one that led me to Christ a few years ago."

"Interesting. And what does David do? I'm sure you've told me."

"He's an associate pastor at a pretty large Church of Christ in New York City. That's why he isn't around very much."

"Well, as long as you two are happy..."

"Oh, definitely. What about you?"

"I was baptized in the Church of England, but I'm more of a Christmas and Easter type, if that. I drifted away while at college and then kind of made it a point not to go as a way to rebel against my father."

Jonathan smiled. "I may not agree with that, but I can understand. I've been in that place, too. I'll pray that you and your father can patch up your differences."

"I don't know how much good that'll do, but thank you." Wesley had to smile as they continued their lunch. "So how did you get into the whole biker lifestyle?"

"I was a young, messed up kid from the Lower East Side in the City. Figured I'd join the biggest, baddest group I could find, and lo - there was the Hell's Angels. I rode with them for a few years until I was about 30, doing most of the things you hear about with the Hell's Angels. Then I met David at a biker rally." Jonathan laughed. "He was there as a part of his church's outreach ministry, preaching the Good News of Jesus Christ. Something drew me to him and after he finished we talked and he led me to Christ.

"After that, I quit the Angels and joined the Long Island Lights, a Christian Biker club out of Long Island. When God led me out here, I joined the Cycle Saints down in Oklahoma City." Jonathan smiled. "But in order to pay for that, my alter ego has a day job down at Jerry Young Construction." He took a sip of water. "What about you? How did you get into the legal business?"

"Well, I had originally started as a Watcher, which deals with demons but actually has nothing to do with the legal system. I only got into the law when I got here. It's obviously not as exciting a story as yours."

"I'm sure that you've got some interesting stories, which I'd like to hear sometime. Like what exactly brought you here. From what I've learned from Lindsey, you were pretty happy before you came here."

"Appearances can be deceiving. But, yes, I was happy most of the time before I came here. Then some things happened between myself and one of my best friends and I just had to get away for a while."

"I'm sure it's hard to be estranged from your best friend. Is it a him or a her?"

"Him. His name's Angel." Wesley wasn't sure why he was telling Jonathan this, but knew he could be trusted. And it wasn't like he had said anything too revealing.

"I'll pray things get better between you and Angel as well."

Wesley smiled. He may not be a believer, but it felt good that someone else cared enough to say it - and mean it.

* * * * *

On a Saturday morning a little more than three weeks later, week 14 of his pregnancy as far as Wesley could figure - Wesley came into the kitchen for breakfast as usual. After putting his bread in the toaster, he went over to Lindsey. "I want you to feel something," he said.

"What?" Lindsey asked. He put down the paper and looked up at Wesley, concern evident on his face.

"Touch right here." Wesley stretched his sweatpants down and pointed to a spot just below the waistband of his sweatpants usually would be.

Lindsey did so and let out a little gasp. He looked up at Wesley with wide eyes. "Is that...?" he asked, almost reverently, as he felt the solid spot just under the skin.

Lindsey's hands felt good on his skin. And his touch was gentle, almost a caress. It was very different from Angel's much firmer grip. Wesley's breath caught ever so slightly as Lindsey's fingers brushed against his skin to feel the bump. The light touch was sending shivers down his spine. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? "I think so. Or we're in big trouble." He gave Lindsey a wry grin.

Lindsey swatted his arm. "That's amazing. How are you feeling?"

"Good. The morning sickness is over, I think." The toast popped and Wesley moved to get it. "But I think I'm going to need to go shopping soon. These clothes are starting to get a little snug and I got them not that long ago."

"What do you think you're going to do once you really start showing? You can't exactly wear maternity clothes."

"I don't know. Find one of those Big & Tall stores or whatever they're called, I suppose. I haven't really thought about it. Most days I'm just trying not to shut down and let it take its course." Wesley sat down with his breakfast. "I'm thirteen and a half weeks along and aside from the doctor's visits, the vitamins, and eating well, I haven't done anything. There must be something I can do."

"Well, we can start getting things. That baby's going to need a lot of stuff. And you could tell Jonathan, since we know the 'down home cooking' explanation will only go so far."

"Fine, I'll tell Jonathan when he comes over tonight."

"Thank you."

* * * * *

That evening, Jonathan and Marty came over for dinner and a superhero movie marathon. After watching the first Superman movie, Wesley stood and said, "I'm going to get a drink refill. Would anyone like anything?"Lindsey asked for another soda and Jonathan and Marty both passed. Wesley smiled as he headed into the kitchen and heard Jonathan and Marty talking.

"I still think it's impossible," Jonathan commented, picking up an argument that had started during the movie. "Lois could never have Clark's baby. Do you think her fallopian tubes could handle his sperm? What about her womb? You think it's strong enough to carry his child?"

"Sure," Marty replied. "Why not?"

"He's an alien, for goodness sake! His Kryptonian biological make-up is enhanced by the Earth's sun. If Lois gets a tan, the kid could kick through her stomach. Only someone like Wonder Woman has a strong enough uterus to carry his kid. The only way he could bang regular women is with a kryptonite condom, but that would kill him."

"That's insane," Marty replied as Lindsey laughed. "You think way too much about this, man."

"Laugh now, but I'm serious."

"So am I. Maybe they'll just adopt."

Wesley chuckled as he came back out, but felt relieved something like this had come up. He handed Lindsey his soda and sat down next to him, with a glass of apple juice and a dill pickle spear, which he had been craving lately. "I hate to change the subject from this fascinating topic, but I have to tell you both something, and I need you to keep an open-mind."

"I hang out with him," Jonathan said as he jerked a thumb at Lindsey. "How much more open-minded do you need me to be?"

"Oh, thanks," Lindsey replied from where he was sitting between the two of them and poked Jonathan in the leg.

"Well, I'm pregnant."

"And here I thought it was just all the down-home cooking that was getting to you." Jonathan reached behind Lindsey and ruffled Wesley's hair. Both men offered their congratulations. "When's the little one due?" Jonathan asked.

"Beginning of February. Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Yes. I’ve always been of the belief that just because I haven’t seen or experienced something, it doesn’t mean that God isn’t capable of allowing it to happen."

"And, well, demon here," Marty replied.

"So, are you completely human?" Jonathan asked.

"No, I'm half Selkie from my mother. They live in the ocean most of their lives as seals, but they'll come on land every once in a while and shed their coats, turning into beautiful humans. If someone picks up their coat, they're bound to that person until they get it back, after which they invariably leave, even if they have a family."

"Did your mom do that?"

"Yes, but it wasn't until after I was in university and I didn't mind." His voice softened. "My father was a hard man to live with. She's much happier now."

"Does she know?" Marty asked.

"Yes. I told her not long after I arrived here, since I knew she would understand. She got me in touch with Dr. Gonzales and she's been very supportive through all of this."

"And you know the three of us are here for you, as well."

"Okay, enough sentimentality," Lindsey put in. "Time for another movie."

The other three laughed and they started watching Spiderman. As the movie started, Wesley slid back down to his seat on the floor and Lindsey began to unconsciously run his fingers through Wesley's hair. Wesley leaned into the touch, enjoying the small comfort.

* * * * *

Lindsey shut the door behind Jonathan and Marty a few hours later. "Well, that went well," he said on his way back to the couch.

"Yes, it did," Wesley agreed from where he was sprawled on the couch.

Lindsey sat down next to him and, without asking, snaked a hand under Wesley's shirt to feel the bump in his belly. Wesley had long since stopped feeling weird at Lindsey's invasion of his personal space. He had felt almost violated the first few times Lindsey had come into the bathroom to help him with the morning sickness, but now Lindsey's touch was very comforting. It was almost like a balm to him, healing some deeply hidden scars.

"I, um, I don't want to pry or anything, but have you talked to your friends lately?" Lindsey asked. "It's been a couple of months since you last did."

"No, I haven't," Wesley replied. "A lot of things happened while I was in L.A. and I think I need to have some space and perspective before I can decide whether or not to resurrect those relationships or leave them alone."

"But what about Angel?"

"Just because he donated sperm..."

"Okay, okay. But what if he finds out that you're here and tries to get you to go back to L.A.?"

"He can try all he wants, but I'm not going to go with him. If I do go back, it'll be on my own terms."

"Good to know." There was a pause. "This is still just so amazing," Lindsey breathed as his hand ran over Wesley's stomach in gentle caresses. "You know, I've been doing some research on pregnancy and babies and stuff and they say that it's good to sing and read to them even when they're still in the womb. Would you mind?"

"No, go right ahead." 'It couldn't hurt,' Wesley thought.

Lindsey slid down onto the floor and scooted close to Wesley. He got as close as he could before he started singing to Wesley's stomach.

"Hushabye little one
Go to sleep little one
The stars say good-night
I say sleep tight
And when you wake
I will be here."

He looked up at Wesley and gave him a small smile.

"Rest your head little one
Close your eyes little one
Dream time is near
You needn't fear
And when you wake
I will be here."

He placed a light kiss on Wesley's stomach. "Good night, little one," he whispered. "Good night, Wes," he said as he stood, turned off one of the lights and disappeared into his room.

Wesley sat on the couch for a little longer, wondering what had just happened, before turning out the other light and going to bed as well.

* * * * *

The next month went as quietly and as well as the previous four had. Business was going well, considering what kind of business they were in. Between Lindsey's ability with the law and Wesley's knowledge of demons, they made a great team and earned a reputation among the demon world as the ones to go to for legal help.

They also earned grudging respect from their co-workers. But Wesley's pregnancy didn't help endear him – or, by association, Lindsey - with anyone else in the office, even though they had decided to keep discussion of it to a minimum with anyone there.

Wesley and the baby continued to develop well. Wesley had filled out over the past month and was wearing slightly larger sizes. His stomach looked rather absurd since the rest of him hadn’t put on much weight - maybe 5 or 6 pounds overall. He had started to learn to move differently because of his larger stomach, but things weren’t too different yet. He had started getting slightly longer stares from other people and he could tell that they were trying to figure things out and not quite getting it. He shrugged them off as best he could and when he and Lindsey were together, Lindsey would do his best to keep it from getting Wesley down by making jokes.

Lindsey had taken it upon himself to massage Wesley's back and feet when they started hurting too much. As things progressed, Wesley’s back and feet had begun to hurt due to the extra strain that the baby was placing on his body. And aside from the morning sickness, Wesley would also have some light mood swings, which Lindsey had found the best way to deal with was by making sure that there were tissues and Heath bars in both the glove compartment of the truck and in the office (along with a couple of herbal teas that Wesley assured him would help keep things calm). Aside from the mood swings, they both enjoyed the process, with Lindsey reading books on pregnancy in order to be prepared and sharing information with the amused Wesley. Wesley had started reading out loud to the baby he was carrying, getting flack from Lindsey because his first choice was A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens.

"Why don't you read something more age appropriate?" Lindsey asked. "Like The Berenstein Bears? We don't need to have this kid feeling like he or she needs to join MENSA by age five. Now this was my favorite book when I was little." And with a small flourish, he presented Wesley with a book.

"Too Much TV," Wesley read the title out loud before looking up at Lindsey from where he was sitting on the couch. "And what's wrong with Dickens? He was one of my favorite writers as a child."

"So I see. Looks like I'll have my work cut out for me if I’m going to teach the little one about everything but literature and demonology." Lindsey plopped down on the couch next to Wesley, and scooted over so Wesley’s bare feet were tucked under Lindsey’s thigh and Lindsey put an arm around Wesley’s drawn up knees.

Wesley closed the book he had been reading aloud. "Now what makes you think I'm even going to stay after I have the baby?"

Lindsey gave him a slightly shocked look. "Don't tell me you're planning on going back to L.A."

"No, but I could go to Scotland so my mother could be near her grandchild." Wesley shrugged. "I know she’d like that."

"True." Lindsey rubbed Wesley’s leg. "But I think you like it here more than you care to admit."

Wesley smiled. "I might."

* * * * *

Out of the blue at the office the next day, Lindsey asked, "What about Zane? I like Zane a lot."

"What do you mean?" Wesley asked, looking up from some paperwork.

"I mean as a boy's name." He gave Wesley a look. "You do realize you're going to have name this kid, right? Anyway, Zane's Arabic for 'beloved'. And you know the kid's got a lot of people here that love him or her - you, me, Jonathan, practically everybody that comes to see me perform, or they will once they see him, most of our clients..."

"I get the idea," Wesley replied with a smile. "Or I could name him Andrew or Mark or John. Or if it’s a girl, maybe Lisa or Ashley or Jennifer. Something should be said about the old standards."

"Right," Lindsey leveled an 'I don’t believe you' look at Wesley, "like you're really going to name your kid one of those. A snowball has a better chance in hell."

Wesley chuckled. "I think I’m spending too much time with you. I'll think about it."

* * * * *

When Wesley went for his appointment later that day, Dr. Gonzales asked, "So where's Lindsey? I thought he'd want to be here today."

"He had a meeting. But he gave me strict orders to make sure I got a copy of the sonogram."

"And you don't want one?" she asked as she checked him out.

"Of course I do. I think he figures I'm going to forget or something."

She put her stethoscope against his stomach and listened for a few moments. "Your baby's heartbeat sounds good. Would you like to hear?" Wesley nodded and she handed it over to him. He smiled as she held the end in place. Hearing the heartbeat made everything seem just a little more real. He was actually carrying a child inside of him. Once he was done, she continued, "You're coming along nicely for five and a half months. Have you started taking classes yet?"

"No. Haven't really seen the need."

"Wesley," she said, somewhat exasperated. "It's a really good idea. It'll help you get ready for when it's time for the birth and it will help you make a lot of important decisions along the way. Like whether or not you want a doula."

"What's a doula?"

"My point exactly. A doula is a woman who provides non-medical support during delivery and to new mothers. You and Lindsey should check it out."

"Okay, we'll look into it. But where would we find one that would take us? This isn’t exactly normal."

"Good. I know of a few, I can give you their names and numbers." She prepped the sonogram machine. As the image came up on the screen, Dr. Gonzales pointed out how well the baby was growing and the different developmental features since the last ultrasound. "Congratulations. It's a boy." She gave him a smile.

Wesley grinned in return. "That's great."

* * * * *

When Wesley returned to the apartment he called out as he opened the door, figuring Lindsey would be home, as he opened the door, "Lindsey, I have great news!"

"Hey, Wes."

Wesley stopped dead in his tracks and turned to the figure in a shaded alcove in the hall. "Angel," he replied carefully as he shut the door. "Is Lindsey here?" Angel shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again. "Not yet."

"How'd you get here?" Wesley asked as he took a couple steps towards Angel.

"It was tricky. I've missed you, Wes." Angel toyed with the cuff of his sleeve before adding, "Five and a half months is a long time."

Wesley crossed his arms over his chest. "I had my reasons. Besides, I know you're not as technologically inept as you would like me to believe. It wouldn't have killed you to call me."

"But -," Angel paused, the desire to find the right words was evident on his face. "I thought you wanted space."

"Then why are you here? And how did you know where to find me?"

"I, uh," Angel floundered. "The phone call to Fred and Gunn."

"Angel, really. You distrust me that much, that you have to look up the man who I'm living with and show up unexpectedly after five and a half months of nothing? I'm touched. Really."

"Wes -" Angel replied desperately, raising a hand as if to touch Wes, before letting it drop.

"What?" he bit out.

"Why don't you come back to L.A.?" He looked down at Wesley’s stomach. "Finish this thing with your family. We can figure out what it is and how to deal with it."

"I'm not coming back to L.A. - at least not now, and definitely not with you. And my *family* and I have decided on what to do." He put his arms around his distended belly. "I'm having this child - *my* child."

"Our child," Angel replied instantly. "It's my kid too, Wes."

"Not if you're not interested in me, it's not."

Angel raised his hands in a 'what do you want from me?' sort of gesture. "What do you expect? For me to pledge my undying love to you?"

Wesley paused for a second before replying. And in that moment, he knew that he didn’t. Maybe at one time he had, but not any more. Not since he had met Lindsey. "No. But I expect you to take an active interest in me and how I'm doing. If you can't care enough to see how I'm doing after I take off without a word, I don't think you should have an active role as the other father. I'm not Darla or Buffy, Angel. I'm not going to come running to you when I don't know what to do. I have people here who can help me."

"Like Lindsey?"

"Yes, 'like Lindsey'. He’s shown more care and respect for me in the past five and a half months than you have in the past four years. He opened his home to me, found me a job, and let me be a part of his life. He has supported me through this, goes with me to doctor appointments, makes sure I eat right, and has helped me through the ups and downs of the pregnancy so far. And even though we aren’t romantically involved, at least I know that he knows that I’m alive and doesn’t take me for granted." Wesley let out a small sigh. "And his friends have accepted me as well. Most don't know what's going on, I'll grant, but that hasn't stopped them."

"What's going on?" a new, yet familiar, voice asked as it approached.

Wesley turned to see Lindsey and smiled. "Oh, nothing. Angel and I are just having a discussion."

"Really?" Lindsey put his hand against the small of Wesley's back for a few seconds. "How's it going, Angel?"

"Could be better, once Wes agrees with me instead of – oh, I don’t know – evil lawyers who keep trying to lure him to the dark side."

A dark look crossed Lindsey’s face, but he let the comment go and asked, "About what?" He looked at Wesley, genuine worry creasing his brow.

"Angel wants me to go back to L.A. with him. And I'd rather not," Wesley's voice turned cool. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Angel, Lindsey and I have some things to discuss. Why don't you come back tomorrow evening around 7:30 and we'll discuss this in a more civilized manner?"

"Fine," Angel said with a huff. "Run away to discuss things with your little boyfriend. I'll be back to discuss *my* child." He turned on his heel and left.

"So, how was the doctor?" Lindsey asked as they went inside.

"Great. Got the sonogram you requested." He handed it to the other man after Lindsey shut the door. "It's a boy."

"That's great!" Lindsey replied. He grinned and hugged Wesley tightly.

Wesley chuckled and quickly hugged him back before prying him off. "And I think Zane will be a great name for him."

"But it's the first name you've heard. What if you find you like another one?"

"I do have time to change to change my mind - about three and a half months." He gently eased himself down onto the couch. "And he does need a middle name."

"How's your back?"

"It hurts, like always."

Lindsey gently pulled Wesley down onto the floor and between his legs so he could massage Wesley’s back. "What do you plan to do about Angel?"

"Make him go back to L.A. I'm not going with him. I'd rather be here, where I know I'm accepted."

"You were accepted in L.A."

"To a point. But there was still hostility after the mind-wipe, even if it was for a different reason. At least here, I know exactly where I stand with people and why. There isn't any tiptoeing around or avoiding." Wesley began to relax against Lindsey's hands.

"But Angel is the baby's other father. Doesn't he deserve to be a part of the baby's life?"

"If he doesn't care how I've been over the past five and a half moths and doesn't shape up over the rest of the pregnancy - no. I don't think he should get special privileges just because he donated the sperm. You've been more of a father over the past several months than I would have anticipated. If anyone should be this baby's other parent, it should be you."

"Well, that's what I get for having a large family. What do you think about the use of the term 'boyfriend'?" Lindsey was thankful Wesley couldn't see him blush.

"Well, you are a friend that's a boy," Wesley said with a smile and a slightly teasing tone. "I wouldn't say that you were actually my boyfriend, since that would imply a more intimate relationship than the one we have."

"Would you be averse to it, if things did go that way?"

"No. You’re wonderful, Lindsey, and -" He paused. "Oh."

"What's wrong?" Lindsey's hands immediately stilled and his voice filled with concern.

"It's okay. I think I just felt the baby move. Here." Wesley took Lindsey's hands and pulled them around his body, pulling Lindsey flush against him and the lawyer’s hands on his stomach. "He might do it again soon."

When the baby moved again, Lindsey laughed. "Wow. I think I felt him. He's strong."

"Yes, he is." He hoped Lindsey couldn't tell the effect his closeness was having on Wesley. As much as he liked Lindsey, he didn't want to muck up their friendship if Lindsey didn't feel the same way. Lindsey had never given any indication of interest, even though he had always been very tactile with Wesley and seemed to be skirting the topic of a few seconds ago.

He began to gently caress Wesley's stomach. "Shouldn't you be, like, nesting and craving really weird foods or something? Isn't that what pregnant people do?"

"Some human females do. But with other species and genders, it varies."

"Oh, okay. So it could be normal for your species that you don't nest and you've started craving apple juice and dill pickles?"

Wesley chuckled. "I think that last part's just me."

"Good. I like you being different."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

* * * * *

That night in bed, Wesley was having a hard time falling asleep. Thoughts and questions kept swirling around in his head. Was he making the right decision to keep Zane; in staying away from Angel and L.A.? Would he be a good father, or would he be as bad as his own father had been? And would Lindsey still be so gracious once Zane was actually born, or would he find an excuse to send father and son packing?

And what did he feel for Lindsey, anyway? Wesley knew that he cared deeply for the other man, and, given time, could probably fall in love with him. But did he want to allow himself the vulnerability being in any type of romantic relationship would give him? He was still hurting from what had happened with Angel a little over five and a half months before. But at the same time, when he was with Lindsey, he felt good, complete... like he belonged. Well, he could always play it cool and subtlely test the waters. That way he wouldn't have to worry about making an ass of himself if Lindsey didn't feel the same way.

* * * * *

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Lindsey asked as he fussed with Wesley's shirt the next evening. "You don't want me to stay?"

"I'll be fine," Wesley replied calmly. He captured Lindsey's hands in his own and held them, stopping Lindsey from fidgeting. "I'd rather you not be here, as I'm sure some things will be said that you needn't hear. And we both know if Jon doesn't spend some quality time with you regularly, he gets cranky."

"Fine," Lindsey sighed. "I'm just worried, because we both know Angel doesn't always think straight when he gets his mind set on something." He took a hand from Wesley's and put it on the Englishman's stomach. "I don't want either of you to get hurt."

"Don't worry. I highly doubt Angel would take any chances with his child." He dropped his hand on top of Lindsey's. "Especially since things were so blundered with Connor."

"I hope you're right. I'll be home by 10:30," as Wesley opened his mouth, he continued, "regardless of what's going on. I live here, too, and I'm not afraid of Angel. If you're going to fight him physically, at least wait until I get back so I can back you up. I still owe him a few punches for my hand, anyway."

Wesley gave him a small smile. "I shall endeavor to do so. You should go. Don't want to keep your 'date' waiting, now do you?"

"Okay, okay." Lindsey glanced at his watch before smoothing Wesley's hair one last time. "It's 7:15 and I'm out of here. I'll see you in about three hours."

"Stop fussing. It's not like it's a date or something."

"All right. Bye." He gave Wesley a peck on the cheek and left. Wesley had to smile. Lindsey definitely knew how to make him feel better.

While he waited, Wesley was a nervous wreck. He couldn't decide whether to sit, stand, or pace and kept checking himself in the mirror. He wasn't sure why he was so riled up - it was only Angel. But then again, it wasn't every day that he faced off with Angel while being five and a half months pregnant.

A little after 7:30, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in, Angel," Wesley said as he opened the door.

Angel entered and watched as Wesley shut the door and turned to him. "Hey, Wes," he said softly. "You're looking really good. How do you feel?"

"I'm five and a half months pregnant. I'm sure you've been around long enough that you bloody well know how I feel," Wesley responded as he sat down on the couch. "Have a seat." He gestured to the other chairs.

"Why'd you do it, Wes?" Angel asked, not sitting down.

"Do what, exactly?"

"Disappear."

"I needed time and space to figure things out: you and me, the baby, the mind-wipe -"

"Mind-wipe? What mind-wipe?"

"You've got to be kidding," Wesley replied exasperated. "You don't know?"

"Obviously not." Angel sat down in the rocker. "What happened?"

"Well, after you made your 'executive decision', whatever it was, our memories were doctored remove all trace of Connor, only we didn't know it. All the other events that happened still happened, but we thought they were done for different reasons."

"How did Cordy get pregnant if Connor wasn't -"

"Angelus." Wesley noticed Angel's surprised expression. "You and Cordy were in a relationship and after he was released -"

"I think I get the picture," Angel cut in weakly. "What did the fake prophecy say?"

"The souled vampire will kill his beloved."

"Is that how you got the scar? Trying to kidnap Cordy?"

"No. Holtz and his crew attacked the Hyperion. I got it there. But you thought I was aligning myself with Holtz -"

"Why would I think that?"

"Possibly because I had met with him a few times, to try to get him to back off. Then when they came, he gave me a chance to leave, but I didn't. You all assumed the worst and didn't give me a chance to explain. While I was in the hospital, you tried to smother me with a pillow and said, 'You went to see Holtz without telling us. You deserve a slit throat, you bastard! I'll never forgive you! Never!' After that, you all shunned me."

"Did you still get together with Lilah?"

"Yes."

"Did she still -"

"Yes," Wesley replied remorsefully. "What really happened with Connor?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I gave him a fresh start - a chance to be happy." He paused for a second. "So it was a fulfillment of the prophecy," he mused. "I killed him to let him live."

Realization dawned on Wesley. "So it really wasn't a false prophecy. It just wasn't what we thought." Zane kicked and Wesley put a hand on his stomach.

"Are you all right?" Angel asked anxiously, moving to the edge of his seat.

"I'm fine," Wesley replied as he gently rubbed his stomach. "It was just the baby moving."

"Really?" Angel looked excited. "Will it do it again? Can I feel?"

"I thought you didn't want me to keep 'this thing'," Wesley replied shortly. "But yes, you can, although I doubt you'll be able to feel anything."

Angel came over and knelt before Wesley, pushing up Wesley's shirt and exposing his distended belly. As Angel placed his hands gently on Wesley's stomach, Wesley found it ironic that a few months ago he would have given anything for such a tender and unbidden touch from Angel. Now, he wanted Angel's hands to be Lindsey's. It almost felt profane for Angel to be touching him in the same way Lindsey had. Any wish for love from Angel was gone, save for that wish for his son.

"This is so cool," Angel said, pulling him from his reverie, his hands gently caressing over Wesley's stomach. "But are you sure it's human?" He gave Wesley a questioning look.

"Yes," Wesley replied, wishing that Angel would stop and Lindsey would come home soon. "The baby's human. Or as much as he can be with my Selkie heritage."

"So the rumors about the Selkies are true. Are you sure he's not a w'amparii, as well?"

"Yes. According to Dr. Gonzales, I'm carrying a perfectly healthy human baby. I thought you could tell -"

"I can, but I just want to be sure. Once is weird enough. Twice...." He paused. "You should still come back to L.A. with me and have the baby there. You should be with your family when it happens."

Wesley captured Angel's hands in his own, stopping his ministrations over Wesley's stomach. "I *am* with my family now, Angel. I stopped being a part of yours a long time ago." He let Angel's hands go and pushed his shirt down.

Angel let his hands drop into his lap. "That's not true. I forgave you and I think the others did, too." Angel sat back on his heels.

"It still wasn't the same and we both know it." Wesley sagged back into the couch.

"Are you going to deprive me of my only son?"

"You had Connor."

"And he was taken from me. Are you going to take this child from me, as well?"

"Angel, I will admit I'm hesitant to allow you into his life."

"Why?" Angel practically growled, his eyes narrowing. "The prophecy isn't hanging over anyone's head any more."

"But I am afraid of what will happen to the baby if we're attacked, or there's an apocalypse. If word about the baby got out, I'm afraid he would be as sought after as Connor. And this time we may not be so lucky. If an apocalypse comes, you won't be able to single-mindedly commit yourself to it. Nor will I let you become distracted from your cause."

"But I'm the father!" Angel stood and began pacing.

"So you are. But I shall not risk either of you by going back to L.A. I'm not barring you from having access, by any means." Wesley stood as well. "Angel," he almost pleaded to Angel's back, "I really am trying to do the best thing for both of you. This is only one of my concerns for him, but you know I hardly ever do anything rashly and it's always with the greater good in mind. I wish you would believe me."

"What about Lindsey?" Angel whirled around to face Wesley. "Do you love him?"

"I honestly don't know. But he's only a minor issue in why I'm staying here."

"Really? You two seemed cozy enough yesterday."

"Just because someone touches me doesn’t mean I’m in love with them; not everyone has your 'hands off' approach to life. And our relationship is purely mutually supportive and platonic."

"Mutually supportive, how?"

"We share living costs, he's been there for me through the pregnancy and I've helped him with his work. Are you jealous?"

"No!" But Wesley could see something resembling repressed rage building beneath the surface. "What's he doing for a living?"

"He works as a lawyer for a non-profit legal service that benefits low-income people and families. He's the demon department."

"There's a demon population here?"

"Yes and they were rather peaceful until you showed up. My relationship with Lindsey is really none of your business."

"If it affects my child, it is."

"It will be only a good thing, I promise. He'll be the stable influence you won't be able to provide."

"Lindsey? I'd hardly call him stable."

"He's matured and mell