Chocolate Chip Shanshu: Five
by Poison Pen
Angel listened to the foreign ring of an international connection, silently reminding his heart to keep beating. It felt like it was about to seize up . . . and maybe implode.
“Ciao! Summers . . .um, damn! Casa?”
Dawn. Thank god, it was Dawn. If Buffy had answered . . .
“Um, hello?” Dawn said, reminding Angel to breathe.
“Hi!” he said, a couple octaves higher than normal. “Is Spike there?”
“Spike? That’s funny . . .”
Angel’s stomach jumped into a nauseating dance of relief and apprehension. He wasn’t there. So where . . .
“I haven’t heard anyone call him that for a while. Not since he, well, got over his allergy to the sun. The only one who can get away with it is Buffy,” Dawn babbled. “He’s going by William, now. You must be an old friend?”
“Yeah,” Angel said, forgetting his disguise.
“Well, he just left for work,” Dawn said, her voice distinctly cooler, “but I can give him a message.”
Angel hung up.
Connor stepped back into the room, loaded down with packages from the dorm vending machine. “Sorry, not a whole lot of selection. The pizza places stopped delivering over an hour ago,” he said, dropping everything on his bed, “but there’s a twenty-four hour Denny’s just down the street, if you’d rather . . .”
“No. That’s fine. I’m not hungry.”
Connor threw him a look of concern. “Ten minutes ago, you said you were starving.”
Angel shrugged. “Got over it.”
“If it’s the clothes,” Connor started with a smile, “we can drop by Wal-mart on the way and get you something a little more you.”
“Yeah, we should probably do that,” Angel muttered, rising from his chair. He paced the small room, staring down at his wrestling thumbs.
“You found Spike.” Connor stated.
“Yeah. Yeah I did.”
“He’s with Buffy?”
“Yeah.”
“Dad . . .I’m sorry.”
“He’s also, apparently, alive.”
Connor gasped. “How? You’re alive, so how . . .”
“He got the Shanshu. I didn’t. From what I picked up from Dawn, it sounds like it happened right after the battle.”
“Well, he was still a vampire when I saw him. Anyway, how do you know he got the Shanshu? Maybe he just brushed up against one of those demons during the battle. You know, like the one that made you human that one time.”
“The Mohra? I told you about that?”
“Well, no. Actually, I stole your journal after I got back from Quar’toth. Anyway, isn’t it possible?”
Angel shook his head. “The change happens immediately. The Mohra would have had to been the last demon left standing, and the odds of that are slim to none. Spike Shanshued. He got the goblet first. I knew then it was meant for him.”
“The goblet,” Connor snorted. “You mean the joke filled with Mountain Dew? Dad, that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t real. What matters is he got to it first. That means something. And I know damn well I didn’t tell you about that.”
“You left me everything before the battle, remember? Sent a key in the mail to the storage place? The journals were there. I read them. And it doesn’t mean a damn thing.”
“At the very least, it means he wanted it more. More than I did.”
“Well, maybe it was meant for both of you, then.” Connor shrugged. “He’s alive. So what? So are you. That’s what matters.”
Angel leaned against the wall and looked at Connor. “Only one of us could Shanshu. Spike did, which means I shouldn’t be here. I need to find out what brought me back, and why.”
“I’ll be straight with you,” Connor said, and Angel saw the man he’d soon become staring out at him from Darla’s blue eyes. “I think you’ve been given a gift, and I think if you keep looking for a curse, you’re going to piss this chance away. I think you should live. You’ve earned it. But if you’re hell-bent on finding a reason to be miserable, I’ll help you look.”
“I love you, Connor. I hope you know it.”
Connor’s eyes shifted to the floor. “I do. You more than proved it.”
“Then you’ll understand why I can’t be around you.”
His eyes snapped up to Angel’s, startled. “I doubt it.”
“Connor, if something is using me—if something evil, maybe Wolfram and Hart, brought me back, then it’s not safe for you to be anywhere near me. And I’m nowhere near as strong as I was when I was a vampire. Not even close. I wouldn’t be able to protect you.”
“Duh. But did you ever consider the fact that you might need me to protect you? Your demon might be dead, but I still have his strength. Weird genetics, or whatever.”
“Can’t let you do that. You might be able to kick my ass, but you’re still my kid, which means I protect you, not the other way around.”
“Maybe I will kick your ass. Knock some sense into you.”
Angel smiled. “Can’t. My skull’s too thick.”
Connor sighed. “So what are you going to do? Where are you gonna go?”
“Are my things still in storage?”
Connor nodded. “Most of them. Except for the cash and the journals. I still have most of the cash though—some of it here. Your journals are in the closet.”
“Keep them. They’re yours. The money too—most of it, anyway. Kinda have to eat now.”
“You still haven’t answered the question.”
“Well, first, I’m going to grab some decent clothes out of storage, and then we’re going to head to that Denny’s and order everything on the menu. Then we’ll come back here and sleep until at least noon. I’m exhausted.”
“And then what?”
“I’ll know tomorrow.”
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