Trust Me Part Five

[thebratqueen]

PART FIVE

Wesley returned to the diner on a quiet Wednesday evening and found Angel perched atop a ladder, attempting to do *something* to the Christmas lights which decorated the awning and windows.

"Isn't that dangerous?" Wesley asked, wondering how Angel could even see what he was doing when the only light came from inside the diner and from the fairy lights themselves.

"Guys like me don't worry about danger," Angel replied. He frowned, poking an ungloved finger underneath a wire. "We just - ow! Shut up, that was a splinter."

"I wasn't going to say a word," Wesley said. "Though if I *were* to say a word or two I might point out that splinters would *be* one of the dangers to be found up there."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Angel said. He slid down the ladder, his mouth spreading into a large smile as he spied Alissa in Wesley's arms. "Hey there, princess. Did you have a good day today?"

"To all reports, yes," Wesley answered. "While at Anne's she played with stuffed toys and blocks, and she also joined me at lunch for a walk through the park."

"Did she now?" Angel asked, tickling Alissa's chest and making faces at her. She squirmed with delight, making gasping sounds which would one day be proper laughter. "How'd she like the park?"

"Well enough," Wesley said. "There wasn't much by way of animal life, though I do believe she managed to terrorize a squirrel."

"Crying jag?" Angel guessed.

"Indeed," Wesley nodded. "Apparently your local rodent population isn't equipped to handle the verbal demands of a hungry baby."

"I keep trying to tell the town council that but they never listen," Angel replied. He stepped back, spreading his arms out to show off his handiwork. "So? What do you think?"

Wesley studied the view in front of him, trying to determine what had changed since morning. "You added more lights?"

"And the glowing Santa," Angel pointed out.

"It's very… festive," Wesley observed.

"I thought so," Angel said. "Do you think I should add some reindeer? I was torn on the reindeer."

"Do they glow?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps one wouldn't wish to overwhelm the Santa," Wesley suggested.

Angel grinned at him. "You're sitting there thinking I couldn't have made this more gaudy and American if I added some cowboy hats, right?"

"Nonsense," Wesley said, with false innocence. "I was thinking neon. Cowboy hats would have been a step towards the somber, comparatively speaking."

"Just for that you get to help me take this all down when the time comes," Angel told him. "So what about you? Got any decorations up in the apartment yet?"

"Oh no," Wesley said. He fished his keys out of his pocket and dangled them in front of Alissa as she began to grow restless. "It's only the two of us. It hardly seemed worth the effort."

"You should," Angel said. "I know she's young but if you like it she'll like it. Besides, why not do the effort for yourself if nothing else?"

"We'll see," Wesley said, not feeling strongly about it one way or another.

Angel bent down and began to put his tools away. "Made any plans yet?"

"For the holidays?" Wesley asked. "No. I believe Alissa and I shall enjoy a quiet evening alone."

"You're welcome to join me and Connor if you want," Angel said.

"Thank you," Wesley said, "but I wouldn't want to intrude. I'm sure you and Connor have your own traditions and moments of family time."

Angel shut his toolbox and stood up again. "You're welcome to join me and Connor if you want."

"Do you ever listen to a word I say?" Wesley asked.

"I find if I tune you out the first three times it's easier to skip to the part where you agree with me," Angel replied.

"Angel - "

"Look," Angel said, holding his hand up to forestall the protest. "You're not interrupting anything. Christmas morning I've got the diner open for anybody who wants a big pancake breakfast after church, then I lock up and it's me, Connor, a tree, presents and, this year, lasagna. Yeah, it's some nice father/son time but when you get right down to it it's not *that* much different then any other night we do dinner. It's been years since he's woken up in the morning all bright-eyed and dying to see what Santa brought, so why *shouldn't* you and Alissa join in? Heck, it'd be nice to have an actual kid around to enjoy the day with. We could even give her a little stocking or something."

"If I say 'no' you're just going to come knocking on my door on Christmas day and insist that I join you anyway, right?" Wesley asked.

Angel pretended to think about it. "Pretty much."

"Then I'd be delighted," Wesley said. "But only if you let me help in some fashion."

"Come over Christmas Eve and help me get the food ready," Angel said. "We'll call it even."

"It's a deal," Wesley agreed. He stepped inside as Angel held the door open for him, blinking as his eyes watered from the change in temperature.

"Hey guys," Gunn called over from his position by the counter. He barely looked up as he scribbled on a legal pad. "Angel, you ask Wes about New Year's Eve?"

"Oh yeah," Angel said, putting his tools away in the broom closet. "Wes, you're joining us for New Year's Eve."

"Good to know," Wesley said, wondering if it really would be simpler to give up all hope of ever trying to decline these invitations out of a sense of courtesy. "What's involved?"

"A big ol' party," Cordelia said. She came over, bending down to coo at Alissa. "Hi there! Can I hold her? No, wait - is she ready to drip from any end?"

"She's been burped and changed," Wesley promised. "Though she needs to get out of her snowsuit before she gets too warm."

"Fashion emergencies I can handle," Cordy said, scooping the baby into her arms. "In fact, maybe Aunt Cordy will even give her a makeover."

Wesley smiled. It seemed that everyone amongst Angel's friends had dubbed themselves 'Aunt' or 'Uncle' to his child. No, he thought. *His* friends. They were all becoming *his* friends, which was actually quite nice, for all that it was unexpected. "So - New Year's?"

"Par-tay," Gunn said. He held up his pad, showing Wesley the list he was working on. "Music, food, drinks, good times."

"Just so long as Angel doesn't try to dance or sing," Cordy added.

"I never try to dance," Angel said. "And I sing just fine."

"Make sure you cross off karaoke," Cordy told Gunn.

Gunn made a show of crossing something off of his list.

"Can I help?" Wesley asked.

"You tell me," Gunn replied. "You any good with party stuff?"

"Oo!" Cordy said, brightening as an idea came to her. "We should do something British-y. You know, now that Wesley's here."

"We could do that," Gunn said. "So what do British people do for New Year's?"

Wesley thought back to all the family parties he'd been forced to go to in his time. "Generally we stand about, sip from drinks which are horribly expensive yet still manage to taste like swill, and then spend the entire time making small talk while suppressing any hint of truly expressing our emotions. I suppose we could give that a go but I can't see how it would be any fun for you Americans."

"Don't put Wesley on the entertainment committee," Cordy suggested.

"You can help Angel with the food," Gunn told him.

"I'll do my best," Wesley said.

"It'll be fun," Angel told him.

"Would this be a time to point out that other than formula I'm not much of a cook?" Wesley asked.

"Then you can clean," Angel replied, tossing a dishrag at him.

Wesley hesitated, wondering if Angel meant for him to start *now*, but was then saved from the dilemma as Alissa began to cry.

"Okay, back to Daddy," Cordy announced, handing her over. "I don't do volume."

"Want me to heat up a bottle for her?" Angel asked.

"Please," Wesley said, trying to distract her from her sobbing.

The front door jingled as Connor walked in. A girl about his age trailed behind him, her features almost lost in an oversize coat and a mop of curly hair. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey son, hey Tracy," Angel said

"Hi, Mr. Angel," Tracy said. She shrugged her coat off, placing it onto one of the empty stools by the counter.

"Here's your car keys," Connor said, trying to hand them over to his father.

Angel didn't even turn around. "Did you put the radio back to the way you found it?"

"I didn't even - "

Angel gave him a look.

"How did you know?" Connor asked.

Angel made a waving motion by his ears. "Magical daddy hearing. Now take it off that junk you listen to and *then* give me my keys."

"Radio station W-FOGEY coming up," Connor muttered, heading back out the door.

"And fix the bass too!" Angel called after him. He handed the warm bottle over to Wesley. "Last time he had that set so high I nearly lost the floor of the car from all the vibrations."

"He didn't mess it up too much," Tracy said.

"I know," Angel told her. "But it's my job to give him a hard time. Are you hungry? Help yourself to whatever, on me."

Tracy gave him a crooked smile, reaching over the counter for a diet iced tea. "Thanks, Mr. Angel."

"'Mr. Angel'?" Wesley asked, sotto voice.

Angel simply quirked his eyebrows at him, "Problem, Mr. Johnson?"

"Can't think of one," Wesley replied. He turned his attention back to Alissa, trying to make sure she didn't swallow too much air.

"Keys," Connor said, tossing them back at Angel as he returned once again.

Angel caught them effortlessly, putting them into his pocket. "Thanks. You want anything?"

"Yeah," Connor said, straddling one of the stools. "Can Tracy stay over tonight?"

"No," Angel said.

"Why not?" Connor demanded.

"Because my body's not dead enough for that to be over it," Angel replied. "Now what do you want for dinner?"

"We're not going to *do* anything," Connor said. "She can sleep on the couch. *I'll* sleep on the couch."

"You can sleep on the moon if you want," Angel said. "Tracy's not staying over. End of discussion."

"Dad!"

"*End* of discussion."

"But Dad - "

"It's okay, Connor," Tracy said, looking as though she wanted to disappear behind her glass. "Don't worry about it."

Something about the children's tone caught Angel's attention. He dropped his scolding demeanor. "What's up?"

Tracy shook her head. "Nothing."

Angel clearly knew the right person to interrogate. "Connor?"

"Her mom's boyfriend's back in town," Connor explained.

Angel's jaw tightened. "Trace, is he bothering you again?"

Tracy shook her head. "No. He's - it's just a couple of nights. It's okay."

"No it's not," Connor said. Wesley wagered he had no idea how much he sounded like his father just then.

Tracy picked up her coat. "It is. It's fine. I'll just lock my door and - "

"Cordy?" Angel asked.

Cordelia was already on it. "Why don't you stay with me tonight, sweetie? I've got a nice big pull-out sofa and everything."

Tracy looked uncertain. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Cordy said, putting her own coat on. She gave Tracy a reassuring smile. "Harmony and I were planning on doing a Russell Crowe festival anyway. You can help us make the popcorn."

"I'll come with," Connor said.

Angel took him by the shoulder and pushed him back onto the stool. "You'll stay *here*. In fact, go upstairs. Trace? Where's Jim hanging out tonight, do you know?"

"I think he's at the Clover," Tracy said, naming a bar Wesley knew was not far from the Bobcat arena.

"Dad, I - " Connor protested.

"Upstairs," Angel told him, pointing the way.

Connor did as he was told, stomping his feet all the way up to the second floor.

"C'mon," Cordy said, tugging at Tracy's coatsleeve. "We've got a date with a gladiator."

Tracy followed along. "Thanks for the iced tea, Mr. Angel."

Angel was busy locking up the register for the evening. "No problem, Tracy."

"Angel," Gunn said, once the girls had left, "don't."

"Don't know what you're talking about," Angel said. He put his coat on, zipping it up with more force than was probably necessary.

"Like Hell you don't and I'm telling you not to," Gunn said.

"I'm not doing anything," Angel replied, taking out his car keys. "Just going for a ride."

"Don't be stupid," Gunn said. "As your friend I - Hell, as your *lawyer* I'm telling you this is a bad idea."

Angel shouldered his way through the front doors. "Hey, as my lawyer it's probably a good idea I *don't* tell you what I'm doing."

Gunn sighed as the doors swung shut. "Fool."

Wesley watched all of this, trying to make heads or tails of it. "What's he going to do?"

Gunn tossed his pen down onto the counter in frustration. "Get himself arrested. *Again*."

***

It was midnight when Wesley dared to try using the baby monitor to leave Alissa sleeping in her crib while he crept downstairs. Though he could never hear anything going on in Angel and Connor's apartment, he could always hear them going up and down the stairs and hours had gone by without any signs of activity.

The diner was empty, and had been since Gunn had left hours ago to see if he could track Angel down. Wesley turned on some lights for company and wondered if he should drive out and do the same.

The need was thwarted as Angel walked through the door, limping, and favoring one side.

"Bloody Hell," Wesley said, coming over to him. He quickly assessed the damage, noting that Angel was also sporting a black eye. "What happened?"

"This is definitely one of those times when I gotta say you should see the other guy," Angel replied. He went behind the counter and tried to fish out the first-aid kit one-handed.

Wesley shooed him out of the way, motioning him towards a stool. He pulled out antiseptic and bandages. "You beat him up."

"Beat up is such a strong phrase," Angel said. "Morelike my fists may have accidentally connected with his face and body a few thousand times."

Wesley pursed his lips, glaring at him. "Oh, very clever."

"Didn't say it was clever, said it was effective," Angel replied. He tried to stretch his left hand out, wincing as he unbent his fingers. "Or I was implying it anyway. Damn. It did *not* use to hurt like this. I'm telling ya, I am not getting any younger."

Wesley made an impromptu cold pack, pouring ice into a Ziploc bag and then wrapping it in a towel. "Here, put that on your eye. And let me see your hand. We might have to call Fred."

Angel sighed with pleasure as the cool towel touched his bruised skin. "We do *not* have to call Fred. It's just some scrapes. I'll be fine."

"You could have broken something," Wesley said, trying to examine Angel's fingers without jostling them too much.

"I didn't break anything," Angel said. "Believe me, I'd know."

"So you're a doctor in your spare time now?" Wesley asked. He pulled Angel's hand into the light and began to clean the wounds.

"No, but apparently *you*, are," Angel said, watching him. "Since when do you know first aid?"

"Since I was eight, now sit still," Wesley told him.

"Yes, sir," Angel muttered. "Is Connor still here?"

"As far as I'm aware," Wesley said. "I didn't hear him leave. Gunn's out looking for you, though."

"I'll call him," Angel said. "Tell him I'm back. Hell, probably need to talk to him anyway come morning."

"Angel, that was a phenomenally stupid thing to do," Wesley told him.

"Never said I was a Mensa scholar," Angel replied.

"You could have been *hurt*."

Angel indicated his situation. "What's with the 'could have'?"

Wesley refused to let himself smile at that. "You know what I meant."

"Speaking of which," Angel said, side-stepping the real issue, "if anybody asks I *never* admitted that any of this was painful. Don't want to ruin my reputation."

"What, for being a moron?"

"For being a *macho* moron," Angel corrected.

"I'm not certain there's a difference," Wesley told him. He put the antiseptic aside, then rubbed in a healing cream. "If you won't go to hospital at least let me wrap this up and try to keep down the swelling."

"Whatever," Angel said, leaning into the towel. "Right now me and this ice are having a real good relationship."

"Don't tell Lorne or he might get jealous," Wesley warned.

"Let him," Angel said. "I've found the love of my life."

"You are an *exceedingly* strange man," Wesley said.

"Annoying too," Kate interjected, as she walked through the front doors.

"Damn," Angel said. "Could've sworn I locked those."

Kate walked over to the counter, leaning against it. "Tell me something, Angel: Why? Why do you need to make my life so difficult?"

"Everybody needs hobbies?" Angel said.

"You know," Kate said. "Contrary to what you might think I *do* like to do my job. If something's going wrong in my neighborhood, I want to know about it. I want to *fix* it."

"Admirable goal," Angel said.

"What I *don't* want," Kate continued. "Is people trying to do my job for me."

"I can see how that would be annoying," Angel agreed.

Kate sighed. "Don't do this to me. I've got Jim Mason down at the hospital bitching up a storm to anybody who'll listen that *you* just beat the crap out of him. That's *assault*, Angel. As in something I have to arrest people for?"

"So *that's* what that means," Angel drawled. "Here I was thinking it had something to do with pepper and the other seasonings."

"Do you think this is funny?" Kate asked. "Do you think I *like* having to come here and - "

"He was going to go after Tracy," Angel snapped.

For a moment Kate's eyes blazed with anger, then she forcibly calmed herself. "I *know* he's an asshole, Angel. I'm the one who arrested him last time. But I can't arrest him now when - "

"What? I'm supposed to sit back and wait until he gets her pregnant?"

" - when right now the only guy who's committed a crime anybody can prove around here is *you*!" Kate shouted over him.

"You wanna arrest me, here you go," Angel said, putting the ice pack down then offering his wrist up to her. "Slap the handcuffs on. Get the real criminals behind bars."

"I don't *want* to arrest you, Angel," Kate said. "I *want* to arrest him. Hell, I *want* to go kick the crap out of him like you did! But it's not about what I want. It's about the law."

"Here we go with that again," Angel muttered.

Kate rubbed her eyes, tiredly. "Help me out here, Angel. Throw me a damned *bone*. Give me *something* so I can at least go back to this guy and rub it in his face that you're not spending tonight in jail either."

"Maybe it was self defense," Angel said.

"When?" Kate asked. "When you punched him the first time or when you broke his arm?"

"I broke his arm?" Angel asked, a note of pride in his voice.

"Way to go with the plausible deniability," Kate retorted.

"He was with me," Wesley said.

Two sets of eyes swiveled towards him.

"What?" Angel asked.

"Come again?" Kate added.

"You asked for something," Wesley said. "Something to beat what Jim was giving you. Fine. I'm giving him an alibi. Now it's no longer his word against Angel's. It's mine as well."

"He was with you," Kate repeated. Her gaze traveled down to Angel's hurt hand, still cradled in Wesley's palm, then back over to Angel again. "So this would be your 'friend' Wesley?"

"I have a private life outside of you now," Angel said, his poker face impeccable.

"Right," Kate said, rolling her eyes. "And the reason why this private night for the both of you resulted in you sporting a black eye and a sore hand but no marks is because….?"

"I like it rough," Wesley said, proving Angel wasn't the only poker player amongst them.

Kate motioned for him to give her more. "And *you* have no marks because - "

"I'm the one who's a sadist," Wesley replied, smoothly.

"Not sure I'd buy *that* after his idea of a good Valentine's but whatever," Kate said. "It's enough. You know, I honestly can't say if this excuse is lamer than the time you tried to convince me you spent a night out at a quilting bee."

"I did!" Angel said. "Gunn was looking for a gift for his sister."

"Of course," Kate turned back to Wesley. "You'd swear to this bullshit and everything?"

"If I had to," Wesley said.

"Fine," Kate said. "I'll go back, file the report, see if I can use it to convince Jim to shove his complaint up his ass. Angel, don't look smug. I want to see you acting like a model citizen for at least a week or else I might not be able to sway this in your favor. And Wes?"

"Yes?" Wesley asked.

She gave him a look of sympathy. "If you're *actually* dating this guy, you might try keeping him on a leash."

"Well that was coming next, obviously," Wesley said.

She actually seemed to smile at that. "I'll call in the morning if there's any problems."

"I am *so* sorry," Wesley said, as soon as she left. "I had no idea she would think that I meant that you were - "

"Don't worry about it," Angel told him. "That - that's actually not news for Kate."

Wesley frowned. "What? That you were - *oh*."

"Yeah," Angel said, nonchalantly. "Oh."

Wesley wondered what the best way of dealing with this sort of social awkwardness was. He decided to try for humor. "Is that why she broke up with you?"

"Shut up and finish up with my hand if you're gonna," Angel told him, his tone in no way serious.

Wesley resumed his work, wrapping a bandage carefully around Angel's knuckles. "I don't mind, you know. About you being - "

"Oh?" Angel suggested, when Wesley faltered for the correct wording.

"Yes," Wesley said, giving him a look of gratitude for the help. "Oh. I'm a bit oh myself, actually."

Wesley saw a keen look of curiosity shape Angel's face, and admired him for not following through on it with further questions. "Good to know."

"It only seemed fair," Wesley said. "To tell you, I mean."

"You didn't have to," Angel said. "Not if you didn't want to. And the same goes for what you did just now with Kate. I'd never ask you to lie for me just to haul my ass out of the fire. I did the crime, I'll do the time. If you want I'll go down in the morning and clear things up."

Wesley looked up at him. "Don't be stupid. I told you I'd pay you back someday."

Angel met his eyes. "Is that why you did it? To pay me back?"

"No," Wesley said. "I did it because it felt like the right thing to do."

Angel smiled at him. "See? I told you you'd fit in here eventually."

Wesley ducked his head, busying himself with the fastening of the bandage. "Yes, well… thank you."

Angel gave Wesley's hand a light squeeze. "Same to you, Wes. Thanks."

Wesley kept his head down, not knowing what to say to that.