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One Son

by s.a.

     Subject: [glass_onion] FIC: One Son (1/1) (AtS GEN)
     Date: Friday, August 16, 2002 1:59 AM
     
     Title: One Son
     Author: s.a. 
     Rating: PG. 
     Pairing: N/A.
     Fandom: AtS, its related characters, and such are not mine; nor shall they
     ever be so. But if they were, I'd steal scruffy!Wes for Ple.
     Spoilers: The first half of AtS Season Three. This can take place around
     "Birthday."
     Feedback: It's the best kind of crack. email: sa@nodist.net
     Distribution: Hole in the Ground, http://hole.nodist.net; List archives.
     Just ask.
     Improv: #48 (superstition, belief, fantasy, suspicion)
     Author's Notes: To Ple and Fay, my favorite women. To the Buffistas, for
     giving this idea. It just kinda ... stuck.
     Summary: There are no purple vampires.

"What the hell is that?"

Cordelia half-turned, Connor in her arms, to meet Angel's shocked gaze. "What's what?"

Angel gestured wildly at the television. "That! What are you showing him?"

Cordy looked puzzled. "What? Sesame Street?"

He walked up and pointed at the screen, where the puppets were about to begin a rousing rendition of "I'm So Excited," substituting animal crackers for the sexual metaphor. He was Not Amused.

"I won't let Connor watch this! Look at him, with his cape and his fangs --no fangs are that white! And he has purple skin, Cordy! Purple skin! I stay the same complexion whether I'm fanged or not, and I've never seen a purple vampire before!"

Cordelia was appalled. It wasn't a particularly good look for her. "Angel? Chill. It's just a puppet, on a screen. Connor doesn't even understand it. And besides, he likes to watch tv. It doesn't matter what's on. Might as well be something at least sort of educational."

If Angel had blood pressure, the vein on his forehead would have been throbbing. "That's not the point! If I'm going to raise my son properly, with an understanding of what's out there, what good and bad and what needs its ass kicked, he's got to know that vampires aren't just a fantasy!"

He was treated with a low-level Cordyglare. "I think he might manage to understand that, seeing as his father is a prime example."

Angel narrowed his gaze at her with something closely resembling suspicion. "Sesame Street is feeding into the superstition, Cordy. They are making kids think that the monsters under the bed aren't real, that their belief in something out there is wrong."

The Cordyglare went up a notch. Angel controlled the urge to cringe. "We are not having a philosophical discussion about the Count von Count on Sesame Street, Angel. I don't care about whatever freaky problems you have with the representation of vampires in children's television, but I'm telling you: get over it."

With that, she picked up Connor and walked out of the room, leaving Angel fuming at the image of the Count adding apples and oranges. "He picked up the remote, flipped off the television, and walked away with a distinct air of disgust.

Angel could hear Cordelia whistling, "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood," from two flights down. He decided that the tv needed to go first thing tomorrow. Connor would be raised on books.


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