A Million Miles Away, Interlude
Realisation of a Momentby Wolfling
"I think we can safely put the strained peas down as a definite dislike," Wesley said dryly as he cleaned the green glop off his glasses with a napkin. It was proving remarkably stubborn to remove.
"Yeah," Angel agreed, staring at the large green stain on the drapes that was dripping down onto the couch beneath them. "He's got an arm on him doesn't he?" he observed with fatherly pride.
"We'll have to keep that in mind when trying any new foods in the future." Giving up on getting that last little stubborn smear off his glasses, Wesley put them back on and went to see what he could do to clean up the other casualties of Connor expressing his opinion on peas. "Perhaps invest in plastic sheeting."
"Or try to pick foods that are better colour cordinated." Angel picked up Conner from his high chair, which elicited a barrage of happy baby babble. "It's going to leave a stain, isn't it?"
Wesley lifted his head up to answer and, as occasionally happened, was struck with the sudden realisation of how lucky he was. He was standing here trying to get strained peas off of the sofa in a slightly rundown farmhouse in rural Canada, looking through smeared glasses at a vampire wearing more of the strained peas in his hair while holding a baby, and he had never been happier or more content. This was belonging, this was family. Everything else was just window dressing.
Wesley smiled and replied, "It's going to leave a memory."