THE WRONG MAN

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy, The WB etc etc etc.  Title and lyrics [in *] belong to Nik Kershaw (and can be heard at http://mail.online.ie/kershaw/detail.cfm?id=31 B Side of Version B)

Author: Shirlz@madmail.demon.co.uk

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Season 3 A:tS the Connor arc

Distribution: If you want ithave itbut if you havent archived my fic before Id like a URL

Feedback: Would be nice

ANs: I am staying spoiler freebut I would either need to have been vacationing in another galaxy or locked in a lead lined box for the last few months not to know about Connor, that saidI know no details so dont expect a true to cannon fic coz you wont find one!

Dedication: Nik, for the funny letter and great news just received whilst writing this!

The Hyperion is quiet now, everyone having vanished to their homes or their rooms.  Finally we are alone; you safely nestled in my arms, suckling contentedly on my little finger.

*Don't come that little boy lost, those little boys eyes

Save all your innocent looks, those innocent cries

No use you calling his name or shedding that tear

No point you looking up there he's lying down here*

It amazes me, how strong you are and yet so completely helpless.  Everyone is under your spell, whether it is to love you or to kill you, you entrance them all.  Yet it is me who has been given this overwhelming task of nurturing you, preparing you for the world, a task that petrifies me. 

*Hold back your delicate arms, your beautiful smile

No use you hanging on tight, if only he knew

No point you following him, he's following you *

This is all I have ever wanted.  Ok, maybe not all, but I wanted a child, someone to guide, to teach, someone to look up to me.  That would really show my father.  I'll never amount to anything, is that right?

*'Cause he don't know nothing about living or dying

Can't tell loving from what lovers do

And he can't look after himself

Let alone you too*

But now you're here, and I'm holding you in my arms, I've never felt so scared or so useless.  What can I teach you?  How to fight?  That I have no problem with.  How to torture people and drive them insane?  The demon would relish the task.  How to burn, decapitate, eviscerate, maim?  How to live, love, grow, have fun, be happy? What can a creature of darkness ever hope to teach someone as pure as you?

*'Cause he don't know nothing about laughing or crying

Can't tell growing up from growing old

And he can't look after his guilt

Let alone your gold

You've picked the wrong man

To do the right thing

You've picked the wrong hands

To put your life in *

But deep in my heart, my dead unbeating heart, I know none of that matters.  From the moment I laid eyes on you I knew I would fight for you, kill for you, die for you.

*You think he's bigger than you

He's closer to God

He'll take this bullet for you whatever he's not*

Because, no matter what happens, no matter what I am, what I was or what I become, I love you.