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Jun. 18th, 2004 12:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sam_gamgeeContinued from here.
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.
End Part 1b
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.
End Part 1b
