Trust Me Part Four

[thebratqueen]

Huzzah! Thanks to the magic of comfort fic and, again, wolfling's invaluable beta skills, I present unto you Trust Me, Part Four.



PART FOUR

The diner was surprisingly empty by the time Wesley felt well enough to attempt to rejoin the world. Wesley looked around, wondering where the patrons were.

"Did you have to quarantine the place just for me?" he asked Angel, trying to stay out of the other man's way as he gave Alissa her formula.

"Nah," Angel said. He was in the midst of packing things into coolers. Wesley watched him as he placed one foil-covered tray after another into the plastic bin. "It's Sunday."

"You go to church?" Wesley guessed.

"Sometimes," Angel said, closing one cooler and moving on to another one. He tossed a slip of paper down onto the counter so Wesley could see it. "And sometimes there's a game on."

"Hockey?" Wesley asked, looking up from the ticket Angel had placed in front of him.

"You got it," Angel told him. He put a breakfast sandwich into the microwave, setting the timer for ten seconds. "Tigers versus Bobcats."

Spying one of the pennants over the cash register, Wesley said, "You're a Tiger fan."

The microwave beeped. Angel opened it up and handed the heated sandwich over to Wesley. "*Big* Tiger fan. The biggest. Now eat that because you're coming with."

Wesley paused as he attempted to juggle both Alissa and the food. "I am? But I don't know a thing about hockey."

Angel helped him by taking Alissa out of his arms, rubbing her back as he cradled her. "You know the star player. What more is there?"

Wesley frowned, mid-bite. "The star - "

"Dad, would you finish *up* already?" Connor said, swiping a muffin off of one of the plates as he jogged through the diner and out the front door.

"They say all the great ones are impatient before a game," Angel said, not missing a beat. "Come on, we'll take my car."

***

Angel's SUV navigated the somewhat icy early morning streets with ease. Wesley watched the scenery go by as they left the center of town and headed out into the countryside. Cows and horses occasionally dotted the landscape, staring at them from behind wooden fences.

"We're playing an away game," Angel explained, adjusting the heat as the car warmed up. "The Bobcat arena's good, though. It shouldn't be too cold. And if it feels like too much there's a room you can take Alissa to and watch from there. All the parents end up in there eventually"

"That's because you're all wimps," Connor said, leaning forward from his position in the back seat. "Comes with age."

"Hey," Angel protested, "I have *never* done the side room. It's too far for me to yell at the refs."

"Right, right," Connor said, dismissing it. "Hey, Dad? If it's okay with Cordy can I switch shifts with her tomorrow?"

"How come?" Angel asked.

"I wanted to do stuff with the guys," Connor replied.

"Try that again," Angel suggested, "except narrow 'stuff' down to names, times, places and activities I can approve of."

Connor heaved a put-upon sigh. "After school I'm meeting up with Brenda, Jake and Robin to cram for French, then we were all going to grab dinner with Rick and Tracy, then we were maybe going to try to get some work done on that thing for Social Studies and *then* Rick and me thought we'd hang out by the elementary school and deal drugs."

"Rick and *I* thought we'd hang out by the elementary school and deal drugs," Angel corrected.

Connor made a face at him. "So can I?"

"Scratch off the last bit, be home by eleven and then it's fine by me if it's fine with Cordy," Angel said.

"But *Dad*," Connor said, stretching the name out over several syllables.

"You heard me," Angel told him, refusing to be baited. "No drug dealing."

"All the other guys get to come home by midnight!" Connor protested.

"All the other guys have parents who aren't evil and bent on making your life a living Hell," Angel replied.

"Did your dad always think he was funny?" Connor asked Wesley.

"I can't say my father ever labored under that delusion," Wesley replied, trying not to smile in face of the boy's adolescent plight.

"It could maybe be 11:30," Angel allowed.

Connor gave his father a hopeful look. "11:45?"

Angel turned to Wes. "Does *your* kid ever labor under the delusion that she's funny?"

"This is so lame!" Connor said.

"Hey!" Angel said, looking at Connor in the rearview mirror. "Keep that attitude up and it's going to be a brand-new curfew of 10, got it?"

Connor slumped back in his seat. "11:30?"

"Hey look, we're in agreement," Angel said.

Whatever Connor might have replied was lost as Alissa gave a few gasping cries.

Wesley turned around, trying to assess her. "She might be hungry. Connor, if you could get me my bag, please?"

"I got it," Connor said, grabbing the satchel. "What's she need?"

"Let's try the juice," Wesley said. "It's the bottle with the flowers on it."

Connor rummaged in the bag, pulled out the bottle, and offered it to the baby. "Here you go. Drink up."

Wesley watched the two of them together, surprised at the rapid disappearance of Connor's sulk.

"Connor's great with kids," Angel said, perhaps reading Wesley's mind. "When he was thirteen - "

"*Dad*," Connor tried to interrupt, clearly embarrassed by any trips down memory lane.

Angel ignored him. "He started up his own company. Did everything from snow shoveling to babysitting. Even had some of his friends working for him. Drew up a sign for it that he put in the window of the diner and everything. Made good money too."

"Nobody needs to hear about that," Connor said.

"What?" Angel asked. "You were a kid and you had your own business! I can't be proud? You know I still think you should've put that on your college applications."

"No college cares about what I did when I was thirteen," Connor told him. "*Nobody* does. Not even Wes."

"Well, I, er - " Wesley faltered, wondering what he was supposed to say.

"*I* care," Angel replied, saving Wesley the trouble. "And I guess if I'm not allowed to be proud of what you do then I can't tell Wes you made MVP two years running?"

"No, you can tell him that," Connor said. He wiped Alissa's chin as she finished with her drink, then amused her by dangling a stuffed toy in front of her. Alissa gurgled happily, trying to reach up for it.

"Connor made MVP two years running," Angel said, slowing the truck down so a deer could pass by.

"So I've heard," Wesley said, grinning. "You must be very proud."

"I am during those pre-approved times when my son allows me to be," Angel replied.

"Hey," Connor said, sitting forward again. "Are you really English?"

Wesley blinked at the non-sequitor. "Er - yes?"

"Like you've lived there and everything?" Connor asked.

"I have lived there and everything," Wesley agreed, wondering how much he could get away with not telling. He decided the best course of action would be to keep the ball in Connor's court. "Why?"

"Is it nice?" Connor asked.

"I suppose it is," Wesley said. "Though that greatly depends upon what one likes."

"What about the schools?" Connor asked, then clarified. "I was thinking of maybe going to Oxford, if they take me."

"Oxford's quite nice," Wesley replied, then immediately stopped himself from warming up to the subject more than he had to. "I - I had friends who went there. They seemed to enjoy it. What in particular appealed to you about it?"

"The fact that it would tear his daddy's heart out and rip it into a million pieces if he was at a school that was that far away," Angel replied. "Not that I'm trying to influence his decision or anything."

Connor paid no attention to him. "I dunno. I mean there's so much there, you know? I've been thinking Literature, but then there's Religious Studies too, or maybe I'll go for a Psych program or something. My guidance counselor says I should pick something that's got a real career to it, though."

"Pick whatever you want, Connor," Angel assured him. "No matter what you decide, I'm behind you a hundred percent."

"Unless I pick Oxford," Connor said.

"Unless you pick Oxford," Angel agreed, though the twinkle in his eyes belied any attempt at pretending to be stern. "In which case I have no child."

"Fine by me," Connor said, helping to gather things up as Angel pulled into a parking space. "I've been telling people for years that I'm not related to you either."

Angel turned the engine off, then faced his son. "Have I told you lately that you're my favorite kid?"

Connor grinned, clearly having heard this before. "I'm your *only* kid."

Angel grinned back. "Oh yeah. Funny how that works out."

***

The emptiness of the diner was rapidly explained as Angel and Wesley hauled Alissa, the baby supplies, and the two coolers down into the arena. Gunn, Fred, Cordelia and some people Wesley didn't recognize were all gathered around in a comfortable sprawl that spanned several rows and included blankets and thermoses that no one seemed to mind sharing. The air felt cool but Angel promised it would warm up as more people arrived.

"We're here early because Connor has to be," Angel explained.

Faces turned as Wesley and Angel were spotted, and Gunn and a few others climbed over the benches to help pull everything into position.

"All *right*," Gunn said, immediately commandeering one of the coolers. "Ladies and gentlemen, breakfast is *served*."

Angel's carefully prepared meals were pulled out and unwrapped, their steam escaping into the air in white plumes of vapor. Plastic plates and cutlery were produced and it wasn't long before everyone had something to fill themselves up with.

"Hey, Wes," Fred said, making herself comfortable on the bench just above his. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you," Wesley told her. He sipped at a cup of hot cocoa, savoring the warmth as it spread through his body. "I'm given to understand I have you to thank for that?"

Fred blushed, adjusting her glasses. "It was nothing. All part of the job."

"I had no idea you were a doctor," Wesley said. He fixed Alissa's hat as it threatened to slip off of her head. "If I'd known perhaps I would've asked you for advice about my cough sooner."

"The flu's a hard one to peg," Fred reassured him. "One minute you're fine and the next, bam! Dead on your feet."

"Luckily Angel was there to catch me," Wesley said.

"It's what I do," Angel said, reaching between them to pour himself a drink out of the coffee-filled thermos. "Hey, do you know Gwen and Knox? Actually, where *is* Knox? Wasn't he just here?"

"Potty break," Fred replied, helping herself to another serving of everything. "He'll be back in a sec."

Wesley turned to the woman sitting beside Gunn. "I assume you're Gwen?"

"Yeah," the young woman replied. She seemed to be about Gunn's age, and was dressed in tight black slacks and a bright red sweater. "And you're the guy I babysat for two nights ago. Nice to meetcha."

"Gwen owns the boutique on Spring Street," Angel explained.

"I don't know if I'm familiar with that one," Wesley said.

"Can't see how you would be," Gwen smiled. "Considering it's a lingerie shop and all. Unless Alissa there is much more advanced than we all gave her credit for."

"I don't think she's quite ready for that yet," Wesley agreed.

"So what's the stats for today's game?" Angel asked.

"Oh God," Cordy groaned. "Are you guys betting *again*?"

"It makes things interesting," Gunn told her.

"Not that I don't agree that hockey could use all the help it can get in that area," Cordy said, "But *still*. You two should save up that money and buy yourselves a life the rest of us won't make fun of."

"Actually," Fred cleared her throat, making room for the gentleman who came up and sat beside her. "Knox and I have some money on this too."

"In favor of the Tigers, *right*?" Angel asked, giving them a pointed look.

"Oh yes," Fred promised, bobbing her head in agreement.

"Wouldn't dream of betting on anybody else," the newcomer said. He held out a hand to Wesley. "Hey, I'm Knox."

"Wes," Wesley replied, finding himself fascinated with the easy way all of them had happily accommodated him into what was obviously a regular routine. Noticing the varying bonds of friendship between them all, he realized they were perhaps missing a person. "Where's Lorne?"

Cordy snorted. "He does *not* get up before noon on a Sunday. And especially not for sports."

"He'll catch up with us later at the diner," Angel added.

"Wait," Wesley said, as another missing piece caught his attention. "If everyone here has placed bets in favor of the Tigers, who bets on the Bobcats?"

"Morning, Angel," a female voice called over.

"Speak of the devil," Angel murmured, then he sat up to face the woman who'd joined them. "Morning, Kate. Catch any new criminals today?"

The blonde woman, who appeared to be in her thirties, folded her arms and gave Angel a dry look. "You tell me. You planning in disrupting the game again like you did last time?"

"I dunno," Angel replied. "Your cousin planning on breaking my kid's arm like last time?"

Kate smirked. "He didn't break Connor's arm and you know it."

"It was still a foul!"

"The ref thought otherwise."

"The ref was *blind*."

"Angel and Kate used to go out," Cordy whispered to Wesley, by way of explanation. "Until she broke up with him."

"I broke up with *her*," Angel retorted, clearly possessed of better hearing than Cordelia gave him credit for.

"That's not the way I remember it," Cordy replied.

"You know one of these years you're going to act like I'm actually the guy who signs your paychecks," Angel told her. "I'm really looking forward to that day."

"Glad to see you guys are having fun," Kate said, smiling with what seemed to be genuine friendship. She frowned as she spotted Wesley sitting amongst them. "Have we met?"

"Wes is a friend of mine," Angel told her, supplying the information with an ease Wesley didn't know if he himself would've possessed at an impromptu interrogation by a police officer. "He's staying with me for a while."

"Oh, okay," Kate said, unconcerned. She pointed out a spot on the other side of the arena. "Anyway, I'm over there with the gang if you want to stop by."

"We might," Gunn said. "Especially if you guys brought the *good* donuts."

"Don't we always?" Kate replied. She gave everyone a wave as she climbed back up the stairs again. "Catch you later."

"She did *not* break up with me," Angel muttered, turning back to his food.

Cordelia patted him on the back. "You keep telling yourself that."

***

To all appearances the game was a good one. Wesley gave up hope of understanding all of the rules, but he quickly determined which player was Connor and the general goal of cheering when he seemed to do something clever, or when the incredibly impossible to see puck made its way into the proper net. When all else failed he cheered when everyone else in his group did, and that seemed to carry him through.

The game itself took hours. Whatever boredom might have come from this was alleviated from the random moments of excitement during the game and, when those moments were few and far between, by eating.

Angel's picnic breakfast was torn through, then put away. Then snacks were brought out that everyone else had supplied. Then it was forays to the concession stands for hot dogs, sodas, and more. After a while Wesley gave up on protesting any attempts for people to give him things, and instead settled down to comfortably share the large tub of popcorn that Angel bought and set on the bench between them.

"My treat," Angel assured him, munching on a handful of buttered kernels. "Besides, I can't finish all this by myself anyway."

Wesley suspected that Angel could have also bought a smaller tub to begin with, but decided that by Angel's way of thinking this sort of thing was common courtesy. He ate, both because he was hungry and because it was the polite thing to do, and promised himself he'd pay Angel back eventually.

Alissa, for her part, was never bored. Young enough to be aware of new faces while not being old enough to be frightened of them, she was passed from lap to lap as everyone played with her and attempted to make her smile. Fred and Gunn both took turns feeding her when the time came, though of course Wesley took it upon himself to take care of any diaper changes.

As promised, the arena warmed up as more people arrived, but as the game wore on *something* started to bother her and she began to cry without stopping. Deciding that it would rule out both cold and the potential that he was annoying those around him, he took Alissa out to the warmer waiting room to pass the rest of the game there with the two mothers (one of a newborn, the other a toddler) who'd been in there since the game had started. Wesley hung back at first, not wanting to intrude upon the women's company, but then he recalled Angel's advice to at least *try* to see what living here could be like, and he introduced himself and engaged them in conversation.

After a half hour of talking about their three children, and the various joys and sorrows of parenthood, Wesley found that there honestly were far more horrible ways that he could have spent a Sunday morning.

***

"Did you see him?" Angel asked, when he rejoined Wesley at the end of the game.

"I did," Wesley said, having watched the outcome on a conveniently provided monitor. Of course he'd had no idea of the specifics of what he was watching, but he felt comfortable in adding, "Connor did wonderfully."

"He did, didn't he?" Angel said, a proud father to the core. "C'mon. We're heading back to the diner."

Wesley slung his satchel over his shoulder, waved goodbye to his two companions, then followed Angel. He looked around. "Is Connor catching up with us?"

"You kidding?" Angel asked, holding the door open for Wesley as they reached the parking lot. "He and his friends go out for pizza. It's not *cool* to do the post-game celebration with his dad."

"I suppose he's at that age," Wesley said. He pressed a kiss to Alissa's forehead glad, at least, that the two of them hadn't reached that stage yet.

"Oh yeah," Angel said. He unlocked the car and began lifting the coolers into the back of it. "But that's okay. We adults just celebrate without him."

"Thank you for including me," Wesley said. He reached into the truck to strap Alissa into her car seat. "That was quite kind of you."

"Don't mention it," Angel said. He turned the car on to warm it up. "Sunday morning games are a tradition around here."

Wesley double checked Alissa's belts, then moved forward into the passenger seat. "Even so, you didn't have to issue the invitation."

"You know eventually you're going to believe me when I tell you that around here you've got friends," Angel said.

Wesley smiled at him. "I'm starting to."

Angel began to smile back, then his face grew more serious. "I - look, just so you know I didn't put Connor up to asking you about England or anything. He did that on his own."

"I know," Wesley said.

"I'm not trying to fish information out of you," Angel said. "Whatever you wanna tell me or don't wanna tell me is fine with me. I - Let's just say I'm a big believer in judging people in the now. And everything I've seen about you so far says that you're a guy I can trust."

"You're someone I can trust too, Angel," Wesley told him.

Angel gave him a curious look at that. "You sound surprised."

Wesley watched the other cars line up to leave the lot, wondering yet again how much he dared to tell anyone. "Let's just say it's been a while since I've felt that about anyone I've met."

"Okay then," Angel said, and blessedly didn't press for anything else.