Author's note: There's been this spoiler going around that Connor's going to go through a major "I can't believe he's not under the age of 18 anymore!" growth spurt later in the season. And it made me think. This is always bad.

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From My Mother's Sleep
by Troll Princess
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... and sometimes, I catch her staring at me, you know? Not like I'd blame her, not if it were for the same reason I'll catch everybody else staring at me. But she just keeps watching me, like I made a wrong turn and walked right into her perfect little fairy tale.

Take last night. I'm downstairs watching that Russell Crowe movie where he's the crazy mathematician -- Fred just had to have that DVD -- and she walks downstairs in a robe and slippers heading for the kitchen.

And I swear, she was just ... I don't know ... staking me with her eyes.

It's not like I don't expect to get stared at, okay? I mean, talk about your growth spurts. Hell, I'm three years old and I'm sitting here knocking back drinks with you. Dad watches me with this kind of pained expression all the time, but I figure he was kind of looking forward to little league and teaching me to ride a bike and first steps. Wes can't help it when he stares -- once a Watcher, you know? Gunn just thinks I'm weird. Fred's still trying to figure me out.

And Cordy ... well, she's Cordy. Her stares always feel good.

But, with her, it's just ... creepy.

She didn't have to come back to him, though. I mean, she could have stayed in Sunnydale forever if she'd wanted. I think she still does want that, too, 'cause every once in a while, I'll just catch her with this wistful look in her eyes. It happens a lot when the TV's on ... a Scooby Doo cartoon or a the right Billy Idol video and she just shuts down for a sec.

But she came back to him. 'Cause, I don't know. It was expected, or something. Destiny. Fate.

'Course, Wes once told me that she was destined to die years ago, and she's kind of outside of destiny these days. But maybe that's evil jealous stepson man coming out of the woodwork, right?

And it's like she's really trying to like me. I think if she could get away with taking me for ice cream and a baseball game and making it all better between us, she'd do it, too.

It doesn't change Mom, though.

Look, it's not like I don't know Mom was a vampire. I mean, I'm not stupid, all right? You guys tiptoe around the subject like it's on hot coals, and you never even thought to hide Dad's file.

You want the truth? I know she was pretty. I know she was a vampire. I know she dusted herself to save me. It's all I need.

Doesn't stop her from hating me, huh?

What, you think I care? I couldn't care less what the hell she thinks of me. I'm just the big neon reminder of how Dad could go wrong. How Dad could still have a soul and let some people die and then have a one-night stand with my evil, bloodsucking mother. When she looks at me and hates me for who I am and where I come from ... fuck it. Not my problem.

It's Dad's. He wants her, he can have her.

You think it's bullshit, right? Me saying it doesn't bother me. It doesn't. Scout's honor. Okay, so I wasn't a Boy Scout. Isn't there some kind of guy-born-of-two-corpses oath I can take?

It doesn't. I mean it.

Stop looking at me like that.

So what if it did bother me? So what if this is the closest thing I am ever going to get to a real mother, and she can't stand to look at me? So what if the soulless fiend who carried me for nine months did more for me than she ever did?

So what, right?

I'm not worried about it, Lorne. Honest.