Chapter 7

Xander stood on the porch of his parents' house. "I'm going to have to be calm and reasonable," he muttered to the faded oak door. "Don't want to make things worse." He took a deep breath and counted to ten.

Then he shoved the door open. "Where is that bastard?" He shouted as he jumped into the living room.

At first only the television answered him. He looked around the empty room and felt the first stir of embarrassment. Then he remembered why he was there and his rage beat up the embarrassment and locked it in a trunk.

That was when Jessica Harris came running out of the kitchen with a long carving knife in her hand and looking two steps beyond wigged. She brought up the knife automatically when she saw someone standing in the wide-open door, but froze when she saw his face. "Alexander?"

The embarrassment broke out of the trunk and beat the rage with a patented low blow. "Hi, mom," Xander said with a sheepish grin.

Xander's mom shook the knife at her son and scolded, "What's the matter with you? I thought you were one of your father's 'friends.'"

Xander raised his hands in surrender, and his mother blushed and put the knife down on a ring-stained table. "He has some?" He asked when it was safe, not even trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "I didn't think there was anyone left that was that stupid. Where is he?"

"Still at work. He's actually putting some extra time in this month. Either that or he got a new secretary." His mother sighed as she sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. "What did he do now?"

Xander collapsed onto the couch. "He went to Child Welfare about me and Buffy and Anya. He's…" He froze as all the rage in him screamed for a release. He lashed out at the coffee table and kicked it over, which sent the empty beer bottles flying around the room. It didn't help. It never did. He felt his mother's eyes on him until he got up to flip the table back over and gather up the bottles. Finally, when the room was back to the mess it'd been before he got there, he sat down and picked up where he left off. "They're going to take Jessica because of him, give her to some strangers and I'll never be able to see her again." He looked at his mother, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "Wasn't it enough he ruined our lives? Does he have to make it generational?"

"Maybe he's just doing what he thinks is best."

Xander stared at his mother. He would've been less surprised to see a third eye suddenly open in the middle of her forehead, and it would have been easer to believe that she used to be a Slayer than the words that just came out of her mouth. Then he started looking her over for injuries. "What did he do to you?"

She turned away and rubbed her arms as if she were cold. "What?"

"You've never agreed with dad. Ever. I used to think there was a law that said you couldn't. Now you do? Where'd he hit you? We'll go to the cops and have the bastard arrested."

"Don't be ridiculous. Tony's never laid a hand on me and you know it," Jessica said as she stood up and headed over to the liquor cabinet. Jessie used to joke that it was the only cabinet in Xander's house that was always full. It would've been funnier if it hadn't been true. He just sat on the couch and watched as she poured herself a martini. She was about to put the bottle away when she paused. "Do you want me to make you some? I know you're still a bit young, but I won't tell if you don't."

"I'm twenty-one, mom."

"Are you?" She wasn't playing, she really wasn't sure. Xander could almost see her counting the years.

"Yeah. Says it on my driver's license and everything. And no. It's a bit early for me." This side of never too early.

"Maybe later, then," Mrs. Harris said and put the bottle back in the cabinet. She went to take a sip of her drink, but her hand was shaking so much she almost spilled the drink down the front of her blouse.

"I never took you for the James Bond type."

"What?" She asked, her voice unusually shrill. Then she slammed the glass down on the top of the cabinet and splashed the drink over her hand. She glared at him as she wiped her hand off with a napkin. "Well, how do you expect me to react? You come in here screaming and threatening your father just because I… he tried to do the right thing. Tried to save our granddaughter from mess you've made for yourself."

"You." Xander somehow managed to get every bit of betrayal he'd ever felt into that one little word as he climbed back to his feet. "You're the one who gave the picture to Mrs. Kroeger."

His mother laughed harshly. "You honestly think your father would care if he knew? He's a pig. Of course I gave Doris the picture. Somebody had to clean up your mess."

"Why?"

"Why?" She turned to him with her favorite my-boy's-an-idiot look. "Because what you're doing is wrong. Don't tell me you don't know that."

"Yeah, I'm happy. Should've been my first clue."

"I know your father and I could've done a better job at teaching you to be a man, but I never… The first one, Anya, was bad enough. I thought I was going to be sick when I saw all those freaks she invited to the wedding. You know, the one you ran away from. Besides which, she was an ungrateful little hussy…"

Xander shook his head in disbelief. "You're still mad at her because she didn't want your help planning the wedding?" He looked around the living room, with its stained furniture and curtains. "You ever think it could have something to do with the White Trash look you've cultivated?"

She went on, not paying any attention to him. "… and then there's that Buffy girl. The little cheerleader slut. Don't even try to deny it, I saw her at the wedding. She was hanging all over your father, flaunting it right in front of me."

"She was trying to stop him from picking a fight with the rest of the wedding party! Trust me, she'd fling herself off a cliff before she'd go near him willingly. Not everyone's stupid enough to make that mistake." He wasn't even trying to hide the bitterness now.

Xander's mother's face went bright red. "How dare you. You can fuck those two whores all you want, but I'm not going to let you destroy my granddaughter's life."

"'Cause God knows Foster Care'll make her perfect."

His mother winced as reached down and grabbed her martini glass. She drained it and started pouring another when she stated simply, "She's not going to a Foster home. Doris promised me that."

"You're the one? When Jessica's born, you're the one… they're going to give her to you?" Xander just felt sick as he tried to imagine his daughter being raised in this house.

"Of course. You obviously can't handle it."

"And you can?" Xander laughed. "How? You and dad would need serious help just to qualify as bad parents."

"We gave you…"

"Nothing. Ever," Xander told her.

It was so obviously true that his mother didn't even try to deny it. But she didn't back down either. "Maybe we were just disappointed."

Xander closed his eyes and tried to force back the bile. "How could you be? You barely noticed I was alive. The only time you crawled out of the bottle was so you and Dad could scream at each other." He shook his head. "You know why I even bothered to tell you? Because despite it all, I was stupid enough to think that some part of you gave a damn about me, that you might be glad that I was happy. Shows how smart I am."

She marched up to him and tried to stare him down. "You had a doubt?"

Xander didn't budge. "There is no way in hell I'm going to let you put my daughter through what you've put me through."

"Put you through? Put you through? Do you have any idea what I've gone through? Having an idiot for a son? Getting calls from the principal saying you've been fighting and skipping classes? The only thing you've ever were to me was an embarrassment."

"Yeah, and you're the source of so much pride." Xander glanced down at the glass still in her hand and snarled, "Do the world a favor, speed up that whole drinking yourself to death plan."

Despite it all, the open hand slap to his cheek was a surprise. He never would have thought she'd be the one to do it. He'd spent ten years wondering when his father was going to cross that line, but the old man was happy with just ignoring him with the occasional screaming fit tossed in for flavor.

His mother looked just as shocked as he felt. She stared at his cheek, then at her hand, then back at him. "Alexander," she whispered, her voice like cracked glass.

Xander put his arms around her. "It's all right, mom." He whispered to her the same way he would a crying two-year-old.

"No, it's not. Even I'm not stupid enough to pretend it is." Then Jessica stiffened and pulled away from him. "I don't know how you can stand to be in the same room with me."

Xander shrugged, forgetting that she couldn't see him. "You're my mom."

"Never acted like one, not the way I should have," she said as she went back to the liquor cabinet to pour herself another drink. She let out a pathetic whimper when she realized what she was doing and flung the bottle against the wall, where the cheap glass shattered and sprayed the alcohol everywhere.

Jessica watched as the alcohol ran down the wallpaper in little streams, then slid down to the floor and wept into her arms.

Xander crouched down next to her, but didn't touch her. He just waited.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she admitted, far more to herself than to Xander, when she calmed down. "Your father and I had so many dreams. Never trust them, Alexander. They'll only drag you down." She looked up at him and he felt like a gangly teenager again. Then she smiled. "Maybe not you. You were always the strong one. You had to be, I guess."

"What happened?"

His mother shrugged. "Life. Too many bills, too much pressure. Your father and I got married too young. Had a kid too young. Decided that drinking made it all easier. That's why I was worried about you. Didn't want you to go through what we did, but worse. So much worse… Why?"

Despite it all, Xander grinned like he always did when he thought of his two girls. "Because I love them both. And they love me."

She shook her head like it was a fairy-tale.

Xander finally asked the only question he wanted answered. "Why did you tell Child Welfare?"

His mother seemed to get even smaller. "Doris and I were out drinking a few months ago, right after you told me everything. You looked so happy that day," she whispered almost in envy, lost in the sudden memory. Then she shook it away. "Doris told me about how one of the girls she was assigned to watch was neglecting her sister. She knew it was happening, but didn't have enough proof to do anything about it. I felt so bad for the girl, especially after all those poor children they showed on the news. Then she said Buffy's name and I put it together. After all, I don't think there could be two girls named Buffy in Sunnydale." She grinned at Xander, but his face might as well have been made of stone.

Her grin died. "I told her everything and she asked if I had proof. The next day she came for the picture. She said she'd make sure Jessica was given to me. I always wanted a daughter… And I just wanted to help that poor girl."

"How did you even know her?"

"Doris and I were best friends from high school. She was always looking out for me, and that didn't change when she got her job. They investigated us once, you know, Child Welfare. But Doris dealt with it for us." She glanced up at him. "So we owe her that much, at least."

Xander snorted in disgust. "She's trying to take my daughter and my sister-in-law. I don't owe her a damned thing."

His mother jumped to her feet and spoke in a rush as she went over to the telephone. "I'll fix it, Alex. I swear I will. I'll tell her the picture was a joke and that I was drunk." She looked over at the alcohol that was still dribbling down the wallpaper. "I'm sure she'll believe that," she added, softly.

Xander just crossed his arms and waited. At first he thought that his mom would pull it off. She was all grins and giggles. Then her face fell. That was when the shouting and the frantic waving of her free arm started. Then even that stopped and she looked like reheated death.

When she hung up the phone just wouldn't even look at him. "She said she wouldn't stop the investigation, no matter what I said. She was always pig-headed, but I never… I'm so sorry, Alexander."

"I didn't think it'd be that easy, mom," Xander admitted as he stood up.

"I can still try…"

He shook his head. "No. You did your best. My friends and I'll think of something. Just, don't talk to her anymore. Don't make things worse." He pushed himself up and was about to go to the door when he froze. "Did dad know about any of it?"

His mother snorted. "Your father can't stand Doris. He's always said that if he ever saw her crossing the street he'd gun the engine."

Xander closed his eyes. "Great. The last thing I need is to give him credit for something."

Then his mother added, "But he's the one who saw what's-her-name, Buffy's sister, at the Kraken. He hit on her friend. He told me that she was a looker, though she had a stupid name. Hope or something."

"Faith," Xander corrected absently before he turned and walked over to the still open door. "I'll talk to you later, mom."

"Alex?" Her voice was so soft that he had to turn back. She wasn't even looking at him, she was just staring at the floor. "Do you… When Jessica's born. Do you think I can see her?"

Xander froze. He didn't even want to think about that now. To tell the truth, all he wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed, and forget today ever happened. His mother looked so… beaten that he didn't want to say no, but how could he say yes? In the end he just turned and walked out of the house. He thought he heard her start sobbing again, but it wasn't enough to make him stop. Not this time.

He took the scenic route back to the Magic Box, not to see any of the sights – he knew most of them by heart and a good number of those had been ruined forever in his mind by monsters – he just needed time to think. So it took him a half hour to get back to the shop.

He didn't go right in either. He stopped and looked through the window at his family – his real family. Everyone had spread out some since he left, but they all had a stunned look on their faces. Giles and Buffy were working behind the counter, Dawn was at the table staring at her books, and Anya was attacking any stray mote of dust she could find with her feather duster. He didn't see Faith, but he doubted she would go out patrolling until he came back, so she must've been training.

Then the nasty little voice in the back of his head started, the one that always sounded like his father, reminded him that it was right. They would've been better off without him. If he hadn't been there, none of this would've happened, and maybe if he left right now it would all get better. His eyes flickered between Buffy and Anya and he took a half step down the sidewalk.

"No," he whispered to himself and stopped dead. "I'm done running." With that he turned and opened the door. "Hey guys," he said through his suddenly tight throat.

Anya was the first one to reach him, and she all but leapt into his arms, but Buffy was right behind her. He pulled them both to him until he could smell the honey and vanilla from their shampoos.

Everyone held off on their questions, though he knew they must have hundreds. Giles and Dawn waited a good distance away while Faith came out of the training room with a towel around her shoulders.

"So, did he do it? Your father?" Buffy asked, her voice low, when he finally pulled away.

"And if we did, can we lay the smackdown on him?" Dawn asked with fire in her eyes.

Faith shook her head. "I never should've let you watch wrestling. But too late now. So can we?"

Xander shook his head. "He didn't do it. Though you could've told us that he was the one who saw you at the bar."

Faith looked confused, then smacked Dawn lightly on her arm. "Why didn't you tell me that the creepy old guy was Xander's father?!"

Dawn rubbed her shoulder. "I thought you knew! I figured that was the only reason you didn't break his hand when he…" Dawn stopped as Faith turned bright red.

Xander didn't need a picture drawn. "I can't believe my father felt up one of my friends," he muttered. Then he shuddered. "Actually, I do believe it. Just didn't need that image."

"You don't need it? You're not the one he did it to," Faith snapped.

"So who gave the photograph to Mrs. Kroeger?" Giles asked, trying to steer the conversation back to something useful.

Xander almost didn't want to answer, but he knew he had to. "My mom. She's… she did it."

"How could she?" Anya asked him in hurt and confusion. "What'd we ever…"

"We were there," Xander said. "She was jealous and we were there. She tried to fix it, but the Welfare lady wouldn't give."

Buffy saw how lost he looked and pulled him into an even tighter hug. If she still had her Slayer strength she would've broken him in half. "What are we going to do?"

"You're going to go home and get a good night's sleep," Giles said in his official Watcher voice. "All of you. We've done all we can today and running off half-crazed isn't going to help anything."

"Fine, I'll just do a quick patrol and…" Faith began with a sly twinkle in her eye.

"You'll go right home," Giles finished for her.

"Why should I?"

"Because I asked."

Faith glared at him for another heartbeat. Then she snarled and spun away. "You don't fight fair."

"No, I don't." Giles admitted before he turned to Anya. "I'll close up. Why don't the rest of you go home. Try to calm down."

Anya snorted. "That's gonna happen."

"Try."

Xander wanted to fight, to say they could be doing something else, but he just felt so tired. He didn't have to look to know that Buffy and Anya looked just as bad. Well, beat anyway, he'd never seen either of them look anything less than spectacular. So they did just as he suggested. Giles watched them until they were gone.

Doris Kroeger was typing away on her report and was so happy she was almost whistling. This would finally show that little girl who she was messing with, take that smug little grin off her face.

Things would've been easier if Jessica hadn't cracked, but at least now she didn't have to worry about giving the baby to that mess of a woman. After all, she was doing it all for the children. She was so wrapped up in her work she didn't realize that someone was waiting for her until he spoke up.

"Mrs. Kroeger?"

Mrs. Kroeger started and looked up at the man who seemed to come out of nowhere. Then she realized how quiet the office was and felt a twinge of fear when she realized she was alone. But that disappeared when she got a good look at the man and realized he was hardly the dangerous sort. He seemed about forty, with a pleasant smile and wearing a tweed suit. He looked like a professor, or maybe an archeologist. Not a Harrison Ford, but not too bad either. She grinned up at him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I was alone. What can I do for you, Mr…"

"Giles. Rupert Giles." He said and smiled back. "I was hoping I could have a word."