sam_gamgee (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_gamgee) wrote2004-06-18 12:30 am
sam_gamgee) wrote2004-06-18 12:30 am
Fic!
*Finally* finished the mpreg and am now posting it. It'll be in four parts, since it's pretty huge (91 and a half pages when I put it all together in Microsoft Word).
Title: "Galileo"
Author: Adrian
Feedback: Yes, please.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. If you don't, I might. If it's a character, I do.
Distribution: my site
Spoilers: "Home"
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Wesley finds unexpected help when his life takes an unexpected turn.
Notes: This fic is based on the June 1, 2003, challenge posted to the m-mSlashahoics list by Shawna.
Notes #2: Stillwater is a real town. My apologies to anyone who is actually familiar with it. LASO is a real firm. The lullaby Lindsey sings in Part 2 is one that my mom used to sing to me and my brother.
Notes #3: The Superman-related conversation in Part 2 is courtesy of Elliday. The science aspect of the story is based in reality and most of the information can be found on the internet. So, while it's not possible, it's definitely plausible (or, at least as much as I could make it). If you have any questions, feel free to ask.
******
"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, he was 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 demon population. 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.
End part 1a
Title: "Galileo"
Author: Adrian
Feedback: Yes, please.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. If you don't, I might. If it's a character, I do.
Distribution: my site
Spoilers: "Home"
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Wesley finds unexpected help when his life takes an unexpected turn.
Notes: This fic is based on the June 1, 2003, challenge posted to the m-mSlashahoics list by Shawna.
Notes #2: Stillwater is a real town. My apologies to anyone who is actually familiar with it. LASO is a real firm. The lullaby Lindsey sings in Part 2 is one that my mom used to sing to me and my brother.
Notes #3: The Superman-related conversation in Part 2 is courtesy of Elliday. The science aspect of the story is based in reality and most of the information can be found on the internet. So, while it's not possible, it's definitely plausible (or, at least as much as I could make it). If you have any questions, feel free to ask.
******
"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, he was 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 demon population. 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.
End part 1a