4?

AN: Okay, I've come to the decision that some of this chapter may be a little darker and more adult than the ones before – not so much Satanic rituals and stuff, but dealing with the no-so-nice parts of society. Won't be a theme, though, just part of it. Oh, yeah, and be warned – TONS of angst in the last part – builds to the next chapter and some of what happens there.

(Several Months Later – LA)

"Hey, baby, looking for a good time? Twenty gets you the best head in LA county," the woman in a short dark blue spandex dress, CFM boots and with a heavily made up face and hair propositioned him for not the first time as he walked by.

He smiled over at her, "Sorry, Linda, not today, I'm on business." He'd met Linda, who's street name was Chastity, a month before on his first trip to LA, when she had been run down by four vamps and had helped her out of a bad situation by using one of his new toys, something Fly's training, his warped mind and years and years of bad cartoons had cooked up, a directional-based high-powered UV flash strobe that had burned out the eyes of the vamps long enough to let him stake them. Linda, after some explanations on why the guys had turned to dust after he had stripped them of all their cash and jewelry (about three grand worth), had offered him a 'thank you' in the form of a freebie, but he had declined because he was late for his appointment back then. Every time since then, she'd made the same offer and he had rebuffed her every time, though he had given her five hundred dollars, once, when her pimp had come around demanding his cut when she was short – pimp had tried to jump him, then, but a pair of handy LAPD officers had kept Xander from showing the short, mousy man with a .38 snub nose in his pocket the error of his ways.

"Always business here, baby," Linda said back to him with a grin and a wink, walking back to her normal spot on the street, calling out to a car that pulled up before getting in. Xander worried about her, and had even asked why she didn't stop because one day she'd pay the price, but she had shrugged and said that she had to pay the bills somehow, and her waitress job wasn't cutting it.

Xander shook his head and continued on towards his destination, a low-key weapons shop that had been suggested to him by Willy the Snitch and about a dozen or so other, and far more reputable, people as the place to go if you needed work done. He'd used his shotgun on several patrols, constantly telling Buffy that, no, she could not use it, when a sudden though struck him – he had no ways to repair it, let alone the knowledge to do so; if it broke, either due to wear and tear or from action in combat, he was up shit creek without even a pair of water wings, let alone a boat. Once he'd gotten a few names and references, he'd contacted this one person, Candice Jacobs and the woman had asked only a few questions about where he'd gotten the weapon – apparently Candy wasn't exactly unaware of what happened in the real world after dark and, after a few allusions on his part she had gotten the idea of where he might have gotten the weapon.

The store wasn't exactly advertised, but then again it didn't need to be as it wasn't exactly on the normal sight-seeing tour – located in an old brownstone with four levels and a basement, he knew that on two of those levels there were shops and machines that could rival any UAC machine shop, and Candice knew how to use them all from her time in the Navy. Walking up to the door, he pressed the call button and waited, and not for very long.

"(You're late, Harris.)"

He looked up at the camera, smiling a waving, showing his off-hand and the white plastic sack he had there, too, "Candy, I've know you for less than two months, but I know that when you're on a job, you forget things like eating and sleeping, so I picked up something."

There was silence for several seconds and then the door buzzed, letting him in.

Candice Jacobs wasn't exactly hard to miss at nearly six feet tall, one hundred and seventy pounds of chiseled muscle and with amber eyes, but he had always thought her most distinctive features were her white-blonde hair, which was natural from what he could tell, and the tattoo of a dragon, one that was visible under her ever-present tight white t-shirt and no bra, that started above one wrist, went up to her shoulder, wrapped around her torso several times and ended on her other wrist. She extruded an aura of 'don't fuck with me if you wanna live', but she was also a shrewd business woman given how she had arranged their meetings on her terms, "What's in the bag?"

He grinned and raised the bag, "Jellies and custards, dozen total." Her disposition brightened instantly as he handed them over, "So, Candy, what brings me out here today?"

She took the box of doughnuts and motioned him back to her office, which was actually nothing more than an old work bench that had several drawers welded to it, and she took a seat behind it, propping her boots up on the edge and munching happily away on a strawberry-filled pastry, "Well, Harris, I've got a proposition for you."

He quirked at her a quick grin, "Oh, Candy, I'm flattered – kinks or vanilla?" Since Fly's timely intervention on Halloween, Xander had grown up a lot and, while not exactly Casanova or anybody, he wasn't a simpering virgin who blushed at the slightest innuendo like Willow (though he was known to go a rather 'adorable', according to Jenny, Willow and Buffy, shade of red when Jenny caught him off-guard with a barb of her own).

She shot him a sly look, "Vanilla and for a long, long time, but that's not what I meant – I know you said you wanted this kept on the DL, no registering the gun parts or anything, but I have a business proposition for you." He motioned for her to go on and she did, "I have a few old friends still in the Navy and they have contacts over at the DOD – several companies are vying for a new ship-defense weapon, and I want to know if you'll let me pitch you shotgun to them."

He arched an eyebrow to him, "Kinda short-ranged, isn't it? Shotguns are only good to about twenty meters before it gets dicey on penetration."

She nodded, "Yeah, but not many ships are going to be boarded so this is merely a formality – if they like it, they may adapt it for other uses and, as we would have the patent on it, we'd get a cut of the sale … a large cut." She finished her doughnut and put the box down, "Well?"

He thought about it – sure, he'd be splitting it with her, but he needed the cash if he wanted to actually get into a college one day and be able to pay for it, "I'd want mine back, Candy – what would I have to do to get it?"

She smiled at him, putting her feet down and standing up, "Well, normally from someone as young as you, I'd ask for hours upon hours of sexual pleasure," she purred, walking over and sitting astride his lap, looking down at him slightly with a grin on her face. "But for you, kid, I'll settle for a 60-40 cut, with me as the 60."

He remembered when Arlene would pull the same stunt with Fly, when they had gotten back to Earth, so he pulled the same stunt Fly would pull on Arlene – he laced his armed around her body and grabbed her ass with both hands, pulling her closer to him, which got a shocked look out of her as he unabashedly looked her torso up and down, "I don't know, Candy – I may want to do the hours upon hours of sexual service to you. It'll be more fun that way."

She quickly recovered, giving him a smarmy grin, "Kid, you're cute, but I'm too much woman for you. Besides, what makes you think I'm going to give it up to you?"

He didn't budge, "Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I'm willing to try."

She looked down at him for several seconds before she tilted her head back and let out several barks of laughter, pulling him into a hug that had his face in her breastbone, "Christ, kid, you had me going there for a second!" She let him go and got up, stretching as she did, "So, care to give me your decision?"

"Fifty-fifty, Candy, non-negotiable," he told her, getting up and shifting himself slightly to hide his obvious arousal. She may have been butch, but she was still gorgeous.

She smiled at him, "Deal – so what're ya here for today, squirt?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her, "Candy, I'm almost tall as you and outweigh you by ten pounds – don't call me squirt." She grinned at him some more, but he went on, "I'm here to ask about my fab jobs for the AS."

She nodded, "Had to reverse engineer a few things, but I'm almost done – took the entire thing apart, drew up plans and specs for it, and that took a while, but I have just about everything I need. Anything important you wanna talk about?"

"Keep the mags at ten rounds or five rounds – the twenties are too easy to blow through and on full-auto, that many come damned close to breaking my wrists."

She nodded again, seeing where he was going, "Okay, stick mags and a burst restrictor on it – anything else?"

He thought about it, "Somehow, I doubt they would want a carbine, so no, not off the top of my head. Well, that is, other than 'can I get my gun back'?"

She smirked at him, "Sure … if you have the money." He reached under his duster and into his back pocket, grabbing the envelope of cash he'd scraped together after going on a few minor nest raids – Fly wasn't all that good at thinking up neat little toys to disable people and vampires, but he pretty good when it came down to raiding places he wasn't supposed to be in. He hadn't been rolling in the money, but each vamp seemed to have a few hundred dollars in cash here and there, and lots of jewelry from his vics that could be pawned – it had been a bit of a gut-wrencher, but Xander figured that he needed the money more than the dead did.

They walked to the back of her shop, where she opened up one of several gun vaults and removed a large black rifle-case which had several scraps of paper plastered on it, turning and handing it to him, "These warnings will allow you to carry this in plain sight without copping too much flak from the police, and explain that what is inside is a prototype – I've gotten this done by the best, but I don't want it tested too quickly, got it?"

"Got it – don't get caught." He handed her the money and she handed him the case, "You're not going to count it?"

She smiled at him a little, "Nah, I trust you – plus, if you do screw me over-"

He grinned at her, "Nice mental picture, Candy."

She ignored him and went on,"-I'll just take it out of your cut." She walked him back to the front, "I'll have the papers drawn up and sent to your address in a week, Xander – I'd like them back soon."

He nodded, turning and sticking out his hand, "I'd say it was a pleasure doing business with you, Candy, but I know the rules – we've never met, you don't know me, and I don't know you."

She nodded, "Yeah, it's a shame, but those are the rules." She shook his hand, squeezing it slightly, "If you ever do decide to, though, give me a call and we'll see about getting you some ink."

He snorted, "If I show up with a tattoo, my mother is going to kill me." He shivered, "Trust me, nothing worse than having a mad Italian woman on your ass."

(Sunnydale – January 20th)

Another month had come and gone, and Xander was in hot water with Buffy yet again – she had been taking every chance she could, nit picking at him at ever turn she could, and when he'd asked her about it, he had gotten the ever-elusive 'oh, you know what you did'; that particular response had been a favorite of Arlene's and had often pissed Fly off to no end, and it did the same to him. Recently, he'd taken to ignoring her, hoping to stay out of trouble, but that too was just enough to get her to snap at him, so he'd torn into her one day about making a pest of herself, which had made her tear up and then run away crying – neither Willow nor Giles had or would tell him what he had done wrong, but he could have cared less with the month he was having.

Tony had gotten some lawyers from a Sunnydale law firm, to run down this, that and the other on him and his mother and was making himself a pest to the point that, twice, his mother had forced him to put down the gun he had gotten into hand and to NOT go after Tony; Tony was suing them for the house, the car, all of it and finally, one morning, Jessica had enough of it. As he was off to school, she picked up the telephone and dialed a number she hoped she would never need to dial, and the other end was picked up, "Yes, I need to speak to Adam Harris – tell him this is Jessica."

At school, Xander was having a passingly bad day – he'd gotten into a near-brawl with Larry and his goons over how much attention Buffy and Cordelia were showing him, attention that Xander hadn't noticed at all (though, honestly, he hadn't been looking), he had been late to his first class and the guy they had gotten to replace Snyder was trying to out-Snyder him with the amount of rude comments and giving out of detentions. For a moment, Xander was sure that this was the Universe's way of getting even with him for accidentally shooting Quark.

Finally, at lunch, things came to a head when Willow dragged him off to the side and gave him the Resolve Face, "Xander, what's up with you?"

"Aside from having a really bad day, not much – you?"

She glared at him, "Xander, I know you're not the most observant guy on the planet, but haven't you noticed that you've had both Buffy and Cordelia throwing themselves at you for the past few months?" He blinked at her and she sighed, "No, of course you haven't!"

His mind thought back to the past few months and it slowly began to dawn on him the inordinate amount of attention that both Buffy and Cordelia had been paying to him – the offers of hanging out at the Bronze and after Patrol by Buffy, the looks and compliments from Cordelia and her sheep, all of it began to click into place and Xander groaned, sinking his head to the table with a thunk, "God, please tell me that's not why they are angry at me, Wills."

He assumed she nodded, "'Fraid so, Xand."

He looked up at her, "Am I blind or something?"

He wasn't sure what emotion it was that played out on her face, but she nodded, sorta, "Well, maybe not completely blind, but … partially blind?"

He sighed disgustedly, "Wills, what is it that I have to do to make them both understand that I'm not looking right now? That because of Fly and Arlene's marriage for twenty years I can't even look at another woman and feel all lusty without thinking of her?"

She looked at him for a moment and he could see the sadness blooming in her eyes, "Oh, Xander …"

He shook his head, "I mean, yeah, she was my … damn, HIS best friend and everything, but … still, it doesn't change anything." He groaned and slammed his head into the table, several times, before stopping, "Ouch."

When he looked up she was shaking her head, "That's what you get, Xander, for doing that – sometimes I think I should just force you to marry me so that I can tell you when you're doing stupid things and to keep you from hurting yourself."

He snorted, "We'd kill each other in a week, Wills, and you know it."

She nodded sadly, "True, but to quote you, 'what a way to go'." He looked at her oddly and she blushed, "Not the right point to say that?"

"Not unless I had said we'd kill each other in bed, Wills – nice try, though." He got up from the table and they both walked to the Library, where they sat down and groaned in unison when Giles walked over, a fuming Buffy not far behind, "What now?"

Giles gave him a look and then sighed, "Xander, Buffy has been telling me that you –"

Willow held up a hand, "He explained it to me, Giles – more Fly mental residue stuff." He looked over at Willow, stunned, and she shrugged, "Well, Buffy was getting all mopey and stuff and we thought it was best to, you know, talk about it."

He groaned, leaning his bead back as the door opened, "Great, my lack of attention to a girl is the subject of group discussion – my life is now complete."

"It could be worse, Alexander," he jumped as his mother's voice came out of nowhere, spinning around in his chair until he was looking at her … and the man behind her.

"Always. Mom … what is HE doing here?" Xander felt an old anger start to build within him, an anger that he had long-thought hashed out, but apparently it was still there.

Jessica winced at her son's tone, "He's here to help us with your step … with Tony." She looked back at her ex husband for a second, who was looking Xander over with a keen eye, and then back at her son, speaking in her native tongue, "(Son … we need his help.)"

"(Then where in the hell has he been, mom?)" Xander's tone was harsh, filled with emotion, but not unfounded as memories of beatings that could have been prevented came to mind, "(He wasn't man enough to deal with my being here back then, so why bring him here now?)"

"That … was uncalled for, son," Adam Harris spoke, fully able to understand his son and wife's speech while the others in the room looked quite lost. He'd not dressed in his uniform for the specific reason to not remind his son just what his job was, and who his loyalties were to.

Alexander just snorted, a motion full of disgust and distain, "(Really? Then maybe you can tell me what the hell you're doing here and then leave – I haven't needed you in a long time, Adam, and this thing with Anthony hasn't changed that.)"

"Xander … who is this?"

He looked over at Willow, his anger being shoved to the back burner instantly, not wanting to snap at her, so he sighed, "This, Willow, is my biological father … Major Adam Harris, United States Army Rangers."

"Lieutenant Colonel, actually," Adam chipped in, somewhat surprised that his son knew his rank. He went on quickly, "Look, Alex, I know I haven't been here, I know you're still angry over the past, and rightfully so, but … son, just let it go. I can't change what I did then, no more than you can change what happened with my brother for all these years, so let us just … work past it."

Xander drew himself up to launch into a tirade but then stopped and looked back at the others in the group, so he deflated, slightly, "Not here – I've got a whole bunch of things I wanna tell you in various tones and volumes of voice, Adam, but not here." With that, he stormed out of the Library – he had to go hit something, hard and repeatedly, and he didn't want to run the risk of it being his father.

AN: Okay, that it for this chapter - lots of changes will be made, lots of yelling in the next part (some of it deserved, some of it not). May be a while, though, so R&R, maybe that'll get me moving some more.