Author's Note: Hey everyone! I just want to say thank you for all the fabulous reviews that I received for the last chapter! I honestly never expected this many reviews from this story, and the response I have received, as well as the support, has completely blown my mind. Without all of you, this story would not have happened.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Stabilizing Relationships

"So much of what is best in us is bound up in our love of family, that it remains the measure of our stability because it measures our sense of loyalty."

- Haniel Long

For several seconds following Charles' soft declaration, there was silence in the jet. Tears of joy were tracking silently down the father's face, while Logan was at a loss for words – a condition he never suffered from. In the years he had known Charles Xavier – enough for them to be close friends, but not enough for him to know everything about the telepath's past – he'd never seen him like this. In many ways, Charles was a larger than life figure to Logan. The psychic had offered him a home when he'd been a wanderer, helped him to restore some of his past and his sanity, and given him a purpose in life. It was hard to know how to repay that debt.

Of course, the debt between them – even if it was only on Logan's side – wasn't enough to keep him from taunting the other man, or making an occasional (okay, frequent) snide remark, but it was never in seriousness, and Charles knew that as well as Logan did. It was simply part of the Wolverine's personality – and it would never change.

After what seemed like a small eternity, Charles tore his eyes away from the computer screen that he had been staring at and pulled himself together. He reached for a handkerchief that was inside his suit jacket and used it to dry his eyes. He took a deep breath before he turned to face Logan. "Logan, when we arrive back at the mansion, I'd like for you to begin prepping the jet for a trip to Sunnydale immediately. I will be going inside just long enough to pack a bag and get the test results from Storm."

"I'll have them waiting for you, Professor," Storm said over the radio, having never disconnected after uploading the test results to the jet. "If you'd like, I can even pack a bag for you and meet you in the hanger."

Charles considered the offer for a moment. "Thank you, but no, Storm," he replied. "I have some very specific things that I want to bring with me this time. It'll be easier for me to get them myself than to try to tell you where to find them." He paused for a moment, and then continued. "One thing that you could do, however, is have the students assembled in the living room. It's time I told them what's going on."

"Are you sure, Charles?" Ororo's voice was gently concerned.

"They need to know," he said firmly. "I'll be spending a great deal of time in California if Elizabeth will not come to New York, and even if she does, I need to try to figure out why she was taken and how she ended up out there. I suspect Mrs. Summers will have some of those answers. The students deserve to know why I'll be splitting my time between them and California until everything is resolved."

"I'll make sure they're assembled," Ororo promised. "Is there anything else?"

Charles thought about it. "I don't think so, Storm."

"All right. We'll see you back at the mansion. Institute out."

Charles flipped off the radio before he leaned back in his chair wearily and closed his eyes. The relief of knowing the truth – it was overwhelming and exhausting. For eighteen years, not knowing if his daughter was alive or dead – it had pressed down on him like a tangible weight and affected every part of his life, from his attitude towards others, to the way he interacted with his students, to his decision to leave New York University and stop teaching so that he could devote himself to looking for his daughter and to his genetics research. Now, how would things change since he knew that she was alive?

"You ok there, Charles?" Logan's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Just – relieved, and tired, Logan." Charles said, opening his eyes and looking at the other man. "I've been waiting for this day for eighteen years, and now – I don't know how to react or what I should do next. All I know is that I have to go to my daughter."

"If it means anythin', I'm happy that things are workin' out for ya," Logan said awkwardly. He wasn't used to being nice to others. He would help when someone was in trouble, or do his part to teach the students how to survive, but he never commiserated with anyone, or reached out to them in sympathy.

"It means a lot, Logan," Charles assured him. "Now I just need to figure out what I'm going to tell the students."

Bayville…the Xavier Institute…later…

Storm was waiting for the students at the front door when they arrived home from school. Scott, Jean, and Kurt came in happy and ready to enjoy their afternoon, while Even, Rogue, and Kitty slunk in, resigned to being confined to the house for the near future because of their involvement with Sabretooth. They all paused when they saw the white-haired mutant waiting for them – a rarity that was quite outside the usual routine.

"Students, once you've put your things away, I need you to assemble in the living room. Professor Xavier has something important to tell you as soon as he and Logan return. I expect them back any minute."

Surprised murmurs met her announcement, and the youths hurried to do as they'd been instructed. It wasn't a usual occurrence for them to assemble for an announcement from the Professor. Normally, he simply used his telepathy to tell them all at once, no matter what they were working on.

"Do you have any idea what this is about?" Scott asked Jean as they headed up their stairs towards their rooms.

"Maybe it has something to do with Elizabeth – the new mutant he went to recruit in California," Jean said, carefully not mentioning what she knew about the Professor's daughter.

"Yeah, about that…why'd you and Storm come home on Sunday and leave the Professor out there?" Scott questioned.

"She didn't really want to come to the school, but Professor X thought that she should. He wanted to stay a few more days to convince here, but he needed me to get back for school – and he didn't want to leave Logan alone to watch the rest of you for too long," Jean hedged.

"Huh. I can't imagine anyone not wanting to come here," Scott said thoughtfully. "I mean, Rogue didn't at first, but she's come around – and hopefully the rest of the Brotherhood will come around too."

Jean shrugged noncommittally as she opened her bedroom door and stepped in so she could put her things away, while Scott continued down the hall to his own room. She wondered if the Professor was really going to tell the others the truth – and how they would react to the news if that's what this announcement was all about.

She had just put her books on her desk when the smell of sulfur and a poof sound alerted her to Kurt's presence.

"Would you like a lift, frauline?" the blue-furred mutant asked with a charming smile.

"No, but thank you Kurt," Jean said with a smile of her own. "I'll see you downstairs."

Another poof and a faint cloud of sulfur heralded her housemate's departure. Jean shook her head and smiled to herself. Kurt was a charmer – and at times a joker – but either way he was a good friend.

She headed for the door, but paused as she sensed the Professor's return. His telepathic signature was unmistakable to her powers. Professor? Is everything all right?

The genuine relief and constrained joy in his mental voice when he answered told her everything that she needed to know. Everything is fine, Jean. Thank you for asking.

I'm glad that you found her at last, Jean told him quietly. Does she know yet?

Not yet. I will be leaving after I speak to everyone.

We'll be waiting for you, sir, Jean said before she closed the link between them.

Charles entered the living room to find Scott and Jean sitting next to each other on the couch. Kurt was perched on top of the fireplace mantle, Evan was leaning against the wall, while Kitty and Rogue had commandeered two armchairs from the far side of the room and dragged them forward to join the group.

"Welcome home, Professor," Scott said, the greeting quickly shared by the rest of the team.

"Thank you," Charles said quietly. He looked around at his students. In many ways, they never ceased to amaze him, and he was proud of everything that they were doing. Their mutant powers (and their control) were increasing daily, and all of them had wonderful grades in school. Even more, they had thoroughly embraced the goal that had become so prominent in his life – the idea that mutants and humans could live together in peace. It wasn't time yet for the rest of the world to know about the mutants that walked among them, but when the day came, he had hopes that his students would be able to prove that they could use their powers to benefit mankind.

"I am afraid, however, that I will be leaving again within the hour," he continued after a moment. "I felt that it would only be fair to explain the situation to you before I leave."

"Does this have anything to do with the new mutant you went to find?" Evan asked.

"Yes it does," Charles replied. "Her name is Elizabeth, and she's a telepath." He paused for a moment, trying to gauge their attitudes and receptiveness. "She's also my daughter."

Complete shocked silence filled the room at that announcement. Charles didn't need his telepathic powers to know what his X-Men were thinking this time. It was plainly written on their faces.

"There's a great deal that I still can't tell you, my X-Men, but for the moment, all you need to know is that she had been missing for eighteen years, Now that I've found her, I'm going to be spending a great deal of my time in California, teaching her to use her powers and getting to know her."

"Why not just bring her to the school, Professor?" Rogue wondered.

"There is nothing I would like more, Rogue, and I am working on that," Charles told her. "Unfortunately it is not that simple. Elizabeth is about to graduate high school, and at the moment she doesn't want to leave California. So I'll be making several trips back and forth. Logan and Ororo will be supervising your training sessions, but I'll be in close contact with them, and when I am here, I'll be working with all of you individually. If there are any problems, I will return immediately."

"We understand, Professor," Scott said for everyone as they nodded in agreement. "You need to be with family. If you need us to do anything, let us know."

"Thank you, Scott. Thanks to all of you for your understanding and support," Charles said quietly. "At the moment, I need all of you to put your full effort into your training and your studies." He smiled at all of them. "If anything does arise that would require your aid, I will not hesitate to ask you for it."

The finality of his tone told the students that that was all he needed from them, and taking it as a dismissal, they all rose to their feet and left the room, still in a shocked and stunned silence.

Charles steered his chair out of the living room and into his study. He went over to his desk and reached into the drawer that held the secret compartment. Triggering the release, he reached inside and removed the photograph of himself and his infant daughter, the velvet-covered box, and another small wooden box with a simple latch on the front.

Laying the items in his lap, he closed the secret compartment and the desk drawer before he opened the file drawer and extracted two files. The first was the file that had only Elizabeth's name stamped across it, while the second had the words "Official Report" written across the tab.

He thought for a moment, before deciding that he had everything that he needed from his study. Turning his chair, he left the room and headed for the elevator that would take him to the upper levels of his mansion. He just had to pack his clothing and wait for Logan to finish prepping the jet. Then…he could go to his daughter.

It took only a few minutes for him to pack his clothing, along with one last, small item that had been resting in the drawer of his bedside table for eighteen years. As he closed the drawer, his eyes fell on the phone resting on the table. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if he should make the call that he really needed to make.

Its past time…this must be done! His thoughts pummeled him mercilessly, and he knew that he at least had to put things into motion, even if they wouldn't come to fruition for a while yet. He had been delaying this too long, and now that he knew that his daughter was alive, he had no good excuse to continue to delay. After several seconds, he reached out and picked up the headset, before dialing a number that he knew by heart.

It rang twice before the other end was answered. "Bayville Women's and Pediatric Clinic. How may I help you?"

"May I speak to Dr. McGee, please?"

"One moment please while I connect you." Soft classical music filled his ears as the receptionist put him on hold. After a moment, he identified it as Tchaikovsky's "Dance of the Reed Flutes" – one of Susan's favorite pieces.

"This is Dr. McGee." His old friend's voice came over the line suddenly and Charles had to swallow back a wave of emotion at the sound. Susan and Lizzie had been best friends – and she had been his friend too, but he had pushed her away.

"Susan…its Charles. Charles Xavier. How are you?"

"Charles!" Her voice was shocked and confused. "I – I wasn't expecting to hear from you…um…how are you?" Susan, usually so calm and confident, was rattled.

"I – I'm doing well, actually," he told her softly. He bit his lip out of nervousness. He had screwed up so badly with Susan – and Moira and Lizzie's parents. How did he go about fixing this? "Um – are you doing well?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "It's – it's been a long time, Charles. What can I do for you?"

"I – oh, Susan, I've been a fool, and I owe you an apology. I had no right to shut you and Moira out the way I did, and I would like to make amends."

"Charles – this is sudden – it's been eighteen years," Susan said hesitantly.

"I know, Susan. It's just…" he sighed. "I have to leave in a few minutes on a trip for a – personal matter. I'm not entirely sure how long I'll be gone, but when I get back, will you meet me somewhere for coffee – and so we can talk?"

Silence filled his ears for a long moment, and he wondered if she had hung up on him. It would only be fair after the way he had treated her. He held his breath, waiting for her decision.

"All right, Charles," she finally said quietly. "Call me when you get back, and we'll make the arrangements."

A profound wave of relief rushed over him at her acceptance. "Thank you, Susan. I'll be in touch soon, and…I'm sorry for everything. I know that doesn't even begin to cover what I did, but I hope that it can be a start…and a promise for the future."

Silence again, before she replied, so faintly he almost missed it. "I missed you, Charles…but I understand, and…I forgive you. Good-bye."

The line went dead with a soft click. Charles sighed as he replaced the receiver. It was a start – and once he had told Elizabeth the truth – if she wanted anything to do with him – he would be able to tell Susan that her goddaughter was alive, healthy, and a strong and beautiful young woman.

The intercom buzzed just then. "The jet's ready when you are, Charles."

Charles pushed the button on the phone to acknowledge the call. "Thank you, Logan. I'll be down momentarily." Turning from his bed, he picked up his suitcase and headed out of the room. His daughter was waiting.

Sunnydale…Buffy's house…

Buffy was busy washing dishes and setting out stuff to get ready for dinner when the phone rang. Her mom –Joyce – ugh, the uncertainty was starting to drive her crazy – was still at the gallery, so Buffy was trying to do what she could to make it easier to have dinner ready when she got home in a little while.

Moving over to the phone, she lifted the receiver off the hook and tucked it between her shoulder and her ear. "Hello?"

"Elizabeth? This is Dr. Xavier."

Buffy froze for a moment before she put the dishcloth and the plate she was drying down so she wouldn't drop them. "Hello, Professor. How are you?"

"I'm quite well, my dear. I was calling to find out if you could meet me tonight. I'm en route to Sunnydale."

"The test results?"

"Came in this afternoon," he confirmed. "I'd like to show them to you in person, if you would meet me."

They were positive! Buffy knew it instinctively. If they had been negative, there wouldn't have been any reason for him to come out to Sunnydale. Her heart raced for a moment, but her voice was surprisingly calm when she managed to respond. "What time is your plane due? I can meet you at the airport."

"I'm not flying in on a commercial flight, my dear. Could you meet me at the hotel where I stayed last time?"

"Um, sure. What time?"

"Eight o'clock?"

"I'll be there. Should I meet you in the lobby?"

"That would be fine," her father's – her father! – smooth voice replied. "I'll see you then?"

"D-definitely."

"Until later, then…Elizabeth." She definitely wasn't imagining the note of caring and fondness in his voice as he said her name.

"Later," she agreed before she hung up the phone and sank weakly down to sit on one of the tall bar stools.

Professor Xavier…was her father. There was no other explanation. Joyce and Hank Summers were not her parents – and she had missed out on her entire life with a father who loved her…

She wasn't Buffy Summers. Her name – her real name – was Elizabeth Anne Xavier.

But either way, she was still the Slayer. She had to decide what she was going to tell her father – and she needed to tell Giles. The few days to think about the choice that could have lain ahead of her hadn't given her any clarity as to whether or not she should tell her father the truth.

Finally, she got up and moved to finish her dinner preparations. She was in a daze, barely aware of what she was doing. What was she going to say to him when she saw him in a few hours?

Joyce entered the kitchen with a smile on her face. "Hello sweetheart. Did you have a good day at school?"

Buffy only stared at her wordlessly. Did she really even know this woman? Had Joyce Summers kidnapped her from her real father? If so…why?

Joyce frowned when Buffy didn't respond. "Buffy, is everything all right?"

That's not my name! Buffy wanted to yell. My name is Elizabeth Xavier! With an effort, she kept herself in check and managed to respond somewhat normally. "Um, yeah. Just tired. Wesley's been working me really hard during our training sessions the last couple of days."

"Oh. Should you go out on your patrol tonight then?" Joyce asked as she started to make dinner from the ingredients that Buffy had laid out for her.

"If I don't, people will die," Buffy said. "I'll be all right."

"All right, then. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour if you want to go work on your homework."

"Got it all done today. Snyder assigned me detention during my free period all week, remember?"

Joyce frowned. "Right." She sighed. "Well, I'll just finish up here and you –"

"I'm going upstairs to call Willow," Buffy supplied.

"All right, dear."

Giles' apartment…same time…

The doorbell rang.

Giles walked through his living room and opened the door cautiously. It was too early for vampires, but one never knew, especially in this town. To his relief, standing on the front step was a delivery man. "Yes?"

"Rupert Giles?" the man asked.

Giles nodded and released the wooden stake he'd been holding in his pocket.

"I have a delivery for you sir, over-nighted from London, England. Will you sign for it?"

"Of course," Giles said, taking the scanner from the delivery man and signing it quickly. He handed the scanner back and accepted the package, which was large, thick, and heavy, boxed up in an overnight box. He bid the delivery man a good day, then took the package over to the coffee table in front of his sofa and put it down before taking a seat.

On top of the box was a plastic envelope with a white envelope inside. On the front of the envelope his name was written, along with the words "Open First". Reaching over the back of the couch, Giles picked up his letter opener and slit the plastic, pulling out the smaller envelope and slitting that open as well. Reaching inside, he pulled out a folded piece of stationary. Unfolding the letter, he could see that it was hand-written and hastily scrawled in black ink.

Rupert,

I did what you asked. I found everything that the archives had, and was able to cross-reference some other articles and histories as I was compiling the list. Some of it I was only able to get very basic information, you'll have to check the Diaries for the rest.

Please don't ask me to do anything like this again. Our debt is settled. While I do agree with you, there's nothing more I can do without arousing suspicions. I'm sorry, but I hope this helps.

- Roberta

Giles frowned, hoping that he hadn't put his friend at risk by asking her to access the Council archives. He knew she could get in trouble if she had been caught getting information for him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Putting aside his concerns, knowing that there was nothing that he could do for Roberta while he was in Sunnydale, he reached for the box and ripped open the tape that held it closed. Inside, the package was wrapped in heavy brown paper, and felt like many pages, all loosely bound together, well over a ream of paper.

After he unwrapped it, he found that the top page was a slim file with the name Dr. Charles Xavier, PhD, stamped across the tab. He flipped open the file and found that it contained a very slim dossier, which he scanned quickly, before turning his attention to the rest of the papers that Roberta had sent him.

Buffy left her house a few minutes before eight and headed up the street towards downtown Sunnydale. Mr. Pointy was tucked up her jacket sleeve, but she wasn't really expecting any vamps this early.

Despite what she'd told Joyce, she hadn't called Willow before dinner. Instead, she'd gone up to her room and dug out her photo albums, slowly turning pages as she relived memories of her life in L.A. and Sunnydale. But it was a lie. She had lived the memories, they were real enough – but what had she missed out on by not being raised with Dr. Xavier? Would she have known about her telepathic powers all along? Who would have been her best friends if she'd lived in New York? Would Merrick and Giles have still been sent to her when she was Called?

Even through her preoccupation, a corner of her awareness was still devoted to paying attention to her surroundings – not only so that she could find her way to the hotel, but so that she would be aware of any vamps or demons in need of a stake.

But it was still too early for most of Sunnydale's supernatural population to be out and about, and she made it to the Ramada without incident.

The Professor was waiting for her in the lobby just as they'd arranged. His face was anxious and excited and, telepathic shields or not, the bond she shared with him tingled as she approached him.

"Professor, it's good to see you again," she said, forcing a calm formality she didn't feel into her voice. What she really wanted to do was grab him in a fierce hug and not let go – but she couldn't, not until she heard the truth from his lips and saw the evidence herself.

"Elizabeth, I'm glad you could meet me," he replied, equally formally – although again, she could hear the emotions he was trying to suppress in his voice. "Should we go up to my room?"

She nodded, wanting to know now but knowing this was something that neither of them wanted to discuss in public. She followed him back to the elevator and they rode up together.

It seemed a short eternity before the professor was unlocking his door to admit her, but in reality it was only about two minutes. He went over to his suitcase that was sitting on the stand in the corner and removed an official looking manila envelope.

"Elizabeth, as I mentioned on the phone, the test results arrived this afternoon," he began. "I – well, see for yourself." He handed her the envelope and she reached in and removed several pieces of paper.

The first few pages were charts and graphs that made no sense to her, but it was the bottom page that interested her the most. She scanned the page which was written in some very formal, legalistic code, looking for the information that she needed, but not finding it. She looked up at him. "What – what does this mean? It doesn't make any sense to me."

"Elizabeth…you are my daughter. The test proves it. There can be no doubt." Her father's voice was choked with emotion now. "After eighteen years, I've found you."

Buffy felt her own eyes tearing up, and she did the only thing that made sense. She held her arms out and fell into her father's arms, feeling them close around her as they embraced. She didn't care that she barely knew this man – he was her father, and he loved her. That was enough for her.