*****

"Give me a Snake Bite," Xander said as he sat down at the hotel bar. The bartender wasted a moment's glance before pouring the Tequila into a shot glass. He knew the kid before him wasn't even out of his teens, let alone twenty-one, but he'd been given strict instructions to give this one anything he wanted. This kid was a V.I.P. on account of him being an employee of James. The bartender didn't know James from Adam but he'd be assured that this James guy was reason the hotel made so much money, on and off the books, and he was further assured that no one fucked with James, therefore no one fucked with the kid.

"Thanks," Xander said as the bartender placed the shot glass on a napkin and the slice of lemon on a cardboard coaster, next to the small packet of salt. He tore open the packet, licked the side of his hand, sprinkled the salt on, then set up his shot the way he liked it. With the lemon held by his forefinger and thumb and the shot in the other hand, Xander licked the salt from his hand, downed the shot quickly, then sucked the juice from the slice of lemon. The whole routine was finished in less then thirty seconds.

Xander sat at the bar for an hour, ordering several different types of drinks, until he saw his boss walk in. James took a seat in a corner booth while Xander ordered a vodka martini with onion and screwdriver. With both drinks in hand, he moved over to James, a notebook under his arm. He placed the martini in front of James then placed the notebook in the middle and took his seat across from his boss. "Hey James," he said in greeting.

"Xander," James said, nodding shortly. After tasting his drink, James nodded down to the notebook. "You've been working hard, I see."

"Yeah," Xander answered. He'd been doing more and more work for the demon, trying to keep his mind off of other things. "That's why I needed to see you."

"Yeah?"

Nodding, Xander responded, "Yeah. You know Falon in collections?"

"Of course I do," James said softly as he took another sip of his martini. "What about him?"

"You remember last week when he went to Roth's to collect what he owed you?" At James' nod, he continued, "Well he said that Roth only gave him ten grand and I talked to Roth's people and they assure me that he paid in full. All fifty thousand."

"Well, Roth's people would want to. . ."

"Yeah, I thought they could be lying, but you know Art at the bank?" James nodded. "He did some digging for me and Falcon has been depositing about ten grand every day." He raised his eyebrows for emphasis. "For four days."

"Not an incredibly bright creature, is he?" the demon asked with a sigh.

Xander shook his head. "And it made me wonder about his other transactions and they're shady too."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, an act that made Xander look down because it reminded him too much of Giles, James asked, "So how much of my money does he have?"

"'Bout a hundred and five thousand."

James sighed and shook his head, then finished his drink and asked, "Do I not take care of those under my employment? Am I incredibly cruel?"

Shaking his head, Xander answered, "No."

"Then why do I have this happening?"

"Greed. It's a very common trait among humans."

"You're not greedy. You'd never take my money."

Xander shook his head. "That's because I know if I asked for it, you'd give it to me." He shrugged. "Not only that, but I grew up with nothing, no money at all, so I'm very happy with what you give me, which is a lot, by the way."

"Thank you." Taking the notebook and flipping through the pages, James asked, "Do you know where Falon is?"

"At home, I suppose. I asked David to watch his house and call me if he left."

James smiled. "I knew there was a reason why I liked you so much. You're smart and you know what you're doing."

Xander gave a chuckle, "Not usually."

"You kidding?" At Xander's negative reply, James said, "You've handled this situation on your own, Xander. You've done wonderfully." Quirking the corner of his mouth upward, James asked with amusement, "Say, you wouldn't want help me torture him, would you?"

Xander licked his lips, which tasted of orange juice, and shook his head. "Not my scene, you know that."

Tracing his lips with his fingers, James nodded. "I know that. But it didn't hurt to ask, did it?"

"I guess it didn't."

"I have hopes that one day you'll give in and decide you want to help one time. It really does relieve stress."

"I'll take your word for it."

"It'd be a bonding experience for us, Xander. Just think, you could have the hatchet and I could keep a hold of the meat tenderizer."

"That's a pretty picture you're painting there, boss, but I still have to decline."

Smiling warmly, James gave a quick nod and a wink. "You're a good kid. It's interesting."

"What is?"

"Having a good kid around that I don't want to kill."

Creasing his brow, Xander asked, "Wasn't it you who said you hated killing, that it was so primitive?"

Shrugging, James stood up. "Yeah, but it doesn't mean I don't do it. Besides, I torture before killing, it negates the primitive aspect of the killing." James took out his wallet. "Where does Falon live?"

"2435 Eastman."

"Good."

"And James? He's got a kid so could you make sure the kid doesn't see?"

"He have a wife too?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, but she's out screwing her boyfriend tonight."

"Have David find the wife, explain the situation, tell her to get the kid so that I can grab Falon."

"You want her to know?"

"If she doesn't, then the kid'll be alone when I take him. You want that?"

Xander shook his head, but said, "I just don't understand why the wife wouldn't call the cops."

"David'll tell her that I'm a generous guy and that of the money her husband stole, she can kept ten percent for herself and fifteen for the kid."

"What if she doesn't go for it?"

"Then tell David to get her and bring her to see me."

"Then the kid'll still be alone."

"Then you go and get the kid."

"I'm not a babysitter, James."

Smiling, James said, "You are if I ask you to be, right?" Sighing, Xander nodded. "Good. But you won't have to be because women who are married to my guys and then fuck around with other guys aren't likely to say no to twenty-five percent." James looked at his watch, then looked back down at Xander. "Go the fuck home. It's late. You shouldn't be working this much."

"But if you need me. . ."

"I'll call you." Cocking his head, James said, "That's how it works."

Returning the smile, Xander rose from his seat and faced James. "Fine, I'll go home, but I'm not promising that I won't be working."

Lightly, James slapped Xander's cheek. "You need to get a life, boy. Get a dog or something. Better yet, get laid."

Xander sighed and shook his head. "How do you know I don't get laid every night?"

"I'm sure your hand does a wonderful job, Xander."

"Shut up," Xander said with a smile, but then followed it up with, "I don't need a. .."

"I'm not saying get someone to marry. I'm saying get laid. You've got it going on, Xander. Just forget all the shit that keeps you down, you and I both know what I'm saying, and go get someone."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. You go get Falon."

James chuckled. "Yeah, I almost forgot that I was going to relieve some stress. Sure you don't want to come?"

"I'm sure."

**

"Giles?" Buffy said, snapping her fingers. "Hello, Giles, come in Giles."

The former Watcher shook out of his daze and said, "Hmmm?"

"Big bad demon on the loose, wants to wear my intestines as a hat? Or haven't you been paying attention."

Giles glanced around the room and saw Oz and Willow, as well as the new Watcher, Wesley, staring at him. "I haven't been paying attention," Giles admitted, his face slowly turning red.

"Are you feeling okay, Giles?" Willow asked.

Oz just continued to watch Giles, knowing what the older man was thinking about. "Do we know where this demon is staying?"

Buffy answered, "Over on Fourth, I think."

"I say we go over there, kill it and be done with it."

Buffy sighed at Oz. "That'd be great, if we knew how to kill it." She turned back to Giles. "Which is why I'm talking to you."

Wesley cleared his throat. "I believe, I am your Watcher."

"Whatever."

"He's right, Buffy," Giles said softly.

She gaped at him. After a full minute of silence, she said, "I don't believe you, Giles. You don't even care?"

"Of course I care. I just. . ." He didn't finish his sentence. Instead he watched as Buffy stood up and bounded up the library stairs and disappeared into the stacks. He watched as Willow followed and he ignored Wesley's annoying stare. Finally, the other Watcher stood up and moved up the stairs, intent on finding his Slayer. Giles' eyes flicked back to Oz and he said, "Go ahead."

"Go ahead, what?"

"Leave or make the comment I see behind your eyes."

Oz just shook his head and continued to sit there with Giles. It was nearly a half hour later when Giles stood up, prepared to go home. Oz finally spoke. "You've seen him, haven't you?"

Clearing his throat, Giles answered, "He came to my house for while, yes."

"And?"

"And he left suddenly and I haven't seen him since."

"You're worried."

"How observant."

Oz stood up and moved a little closer to Giles. "I respect your feelings for Xander and I respect your concern for him but I think you need to start thinking about the people who are still here. He might not ever come back to you, Giles, but Buffy is here, like she's always been, and she needs you too. All she wants is you to show some concern like you did before all this stuff started happening with Xander. And if you don't want to lose everything you've ever had with her, you'd better start showing it soon."

**

In the morning, Xander got up, not that he'd been sleeping, took a shower and got dressed. He left his apartment around ten o'clock and headed to his parents' house. He knew his dad wouldn't be there and he wasn't planning on staying long. He had well over a thousand dollars on him; he wanted to pay his mother back for the money she gave him. A thousand dollars would pay her back and then some, but Xander didn't want any debt held over his head, even if it was only held there by him.

He'd wanted to repay the debt long ago but found that he had no time. Earlier, James had called him, telling him to take the day off, things had gone smashingly well with Falon and his wife. So Xander found himself knocking on the door of his parents' house.

No one answered, so he let himself in, figuring that if his mom wasn't in bed, struggling to wake up after a night of pills, he'd just leave the money in her hiding place and that would be that. As he entered the living room, he called out "Mom?"

A match was struck and Xander's eyes flicked to the left. He saw his father sitting in his recliner, lighting a cigarette. "She ain't here." Xander's eyes found the half empty bottle of Wild Turkey in his father's hand and a familiar panic rose within him.

But through his fear, he managed to ask, "Where is she?"

"The hospital," Michael Harris answered with a smile.

Xander bit down on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then asked, "What'd you do to her?"

Wobbling as he stood up, Xander's father replied, "Nothing she didn't deserve. Why the fuck you here? This ain't your house no more."

"I came by to see Mom."

Mike scratched his stomach as he contemplated his son. "Well she ain't here."

"Then I'll go."

"Good. Get the fuck out of my house, you piece of shit." Noticing the passing hurt look on his son's face, Mike Harris continued, "What? Is Alexandra gonna cry?" His face twisted into a snarl. "You've always been such a little pussy. How I got you for a son is a mystery."

Unclenching his teeth, Xander straightened his back. "No it's not. You made me what I am, Dad," he said, using that title of affection as a curse. "What'd you think you'd get when you called me a 'meaningless piece of shit' and a 'faggot' all my life? Huh? What? Did you think that'd make me a strong man? Did you think hitting me would make me something else, Dad?" Narrowing his eyes at his father, Xander said, "I'm the son that you made me."

"Talkin' back to me, boy? How many times do I have to beat you until you'll learn that you don't talk back to me?"

Shaking his head, Xander said, "You can't beat me."

"Why not? I beat your mother last night and she's stronger than you. She fights back. You just sit back and take it like a pussy."

Xander stood still as his father took shaky steps towards him. "Hey, Dad? Fuck you." When he was close enough, his father swung his fist, catching Xander's chin. Xander stumbled backwards, but recovered quickly, his anger rising higher than it ever had. His hand shot out and his fist connected with his father's cheek. Xander's other hand went for the bottle, grabbed it and threw it across the room where it hit the wall and shattered. "Fuck you, Dad," he repeated as he blocked a sloppy punch.

He hit his father again, and then again until Mike Harris was on his back on the floor. Xander, unable to stop himself, straddled his father's chest and let his fists rain down. He didn't stop, he couldn't stop. His body was working on automatic while his mind just kept screaming. Xander realized that his father's face was nothing more than a bloody mess now but he couldn't stop from punching it more. He couldn't stop from pulling his father's head up by the hair and slamming it down hard. Once, twice, three more times.

It was another five minutes before Xander's mind stopped screaming and his body stopped moving. He sat there on his father's chest, looking down at the man. He was lifeless, unmoving. "Fuck," Xander said, running bloodied hands through his hair and biting his lower lip.

His legs were shaky as he stood up. His hand slipped into the inside pocket of his jacket and he pulled out his phone, his fingers dialing fast. "David? Where's James?" He paused and took a deep breath as he looked down again at his father. "Put him on. I really don't care what he's doing, David, put him on." He paused again. "Yeah, James? Yeah, I'm sorry. I know you're. . .I know I'm supposed to be taking the day off, that what I was doing. No, no, things are sort of fucked up now." Xander swallowed hard. "I need you to help me. I think. . .I think I just killed my dad."

*****
Part 2:

"I didn't mean to kill him," Xander said, his voice breathy.

James looked up from his crouched position next to Xander's father. "You didn't. He's still living." Without warning, James picked up the upper part of Xander's father, put his arms around the man's head and jerked it to the right. "Now he's dead." He let the man drop back to the floor as he stood up and wiped his hands together. "I hate human blood," he said conversationally.

Turning to David, James said, "Call Mo and have him get his guys over here and clean up. Tell him not to make it too clean, but just to make sure there's no evidence of me, you or Xander." David nodded, slapped Xander's shoulder in a friendly manner and pulled out his phone as he stepped over the body to walk to the other room. James looked at Xander and took in how he was just staring down at the face of his dead father. "Tell me you don't feel the least bit relieved that he's not in this world. Tell me you won't sleep better knowing he can't hurt you or your mom anymore." Raising his eyebrows and smiling, James asked, "Want to kill your mom, too? Wipe the slate clean?"

Xander just blinked at the demon for a moment before he cupped his hand over his mouth and leaned over like he was going to be sick. "I was kidding about your mom, Xand," James explained and he moved next to the boy and placed his large hand at the small of Xander's back. "Although I'm puzzled at this reaction from you. Your parents did nothing but hurt you, both of them did. Why. . ."

"How do you know all this shit?" Xander asked, taking his hand away from his mouth.

"As I've told you before, you're my employee and it's in my best interest to know things about you. And Xander? I know it all." He watched at Xander straightened up and wiped his bloody forehead with his even bloodier hand. "We need to get you cleaned up. Don't want the neighbors seeing you smeared with red. Of course," he mused, his head cocked to the side, "we don't want them seeing us at all."

"I feel sick."

"Yes, that's what I don't understand."

"I killed him."

"No," James corrected, "I did."

Xander blinked then slowly sunk down until he was crouching at his father's feet. He let out a long breath as his eyes shut tightly. "All my life," he started softly. "All my life I've want him just to once let me feel normal. And at the same time, I don't think I wanted him to stop hitting me, because at least that meant he knew I was there. I used to have these dreams." He paused, his eyes opening and finding James crouched down next to him. "My family would be like my friend's family. They have dinner every night, you know? And they talk about things. And when her parents don't like something she does, she gets grounded. You know, grounded? No TV or going out. I've never been grounded. Only beaten."

"He's dead, Xander. And if you want, I'll take care of your mother too."

"I don't want that."

"I don't understand. I know what she did to you. Why don't you hate her?"

"I do hate her." Xander shrugged. "But she's my mom."

David cleared his throat, Xander and James looked up. "Mo's on his way. He'd rather us not be here when he arrives." The dark haired man smiled. "Seems to think we'd get in the way."

"You told him not to make it obvious he was here, right?"

Nodding, David replied, "He seemed insulted."

"Yeah, well fuck Mo," James said with a wave of his hand. Stand up, he helped Xander to his feet. "Let's go."

**

Oz walked in to Giles' and sat down on the couch. "You know that Xander's dad's dead?"

Giles looked up from his book and his cup of tea. "What?" The man pulled his glasses from his face.

"His father," Oz said shortly. "He's dead." At Giles' silence, he continued, "From what I gathered from the news this morning, he'd been beaten and his neck was twisted. They said he'd been dead for like two days. Xander's mom came home, she was in the hospital for many broken bones, let's guess who broke them, and found him."

"Who did it?"

"Killed Xander's dad?" Giles nodded. "They don't know. The neighbors didn't see or hear anything and there is nothing in the house, no hairs, no shoe prints on the carpet, the body gave no clues either."

"Is Xander a suspect?" Giles asked, leaning his head back, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I guess so. They can't find him and from what I heard, the police know about the violence that went on in that house."

Giles shook his head. "Then why didn't they do anything about it?"

Oz shrugged as he leaned back. "It doesn't seem like Xander though, does it?" He watched as Giles shook his head. "Why would he go back there? He isn't the revenge type."

**

"So where've you been for the past two days, Mr. Harris?" Detective Redding asked.

"Where I've been since I moved out of my parents' house."

"Where's that?"

"At my place."

"Which is?"

"That small motel on Route 11."

"The Hide Away Inn?" At Xander's nod, the tall blonde haired detective laughed. "Great name."

"The hotel sucks. Roaches, rats, whatever you can think of, they have it."

"Then why do you stay there?"

"It's the only place I can afford."

"Were you there alone two days ago around ten-thirty in the morning?"

"No. I was at work."

The detective nodded. "Where do you work?"

"Willy's bar."

"You're too young to work there."

Shaking his head, Xander replied, "No, I'm too young to serve alcohol, but Willy's isn't open at ten. I work until it opens, from about eight a.m to two p.m. I clean and stock, make sure Willy gets his orders out on time."

"Who was there with you?"

"Willy."

"So he can confirm this?"

Xander nodded. "As can David."

Lifting an eyebrow, Redding asked, "Who's David?"

"Guy who works for Willy too."

"He clean too?"

Xander shook his head. "No, he's over twenty-one. He does the books sometimes but mainly he helps tend bar."

"Then why was he there at ten-thirty?"

"He does the books every Thursday morning."

Leaning down the detective looked Xander straight in the eyes and asked, "You sad your dad's dead?"

Looking straight into the detective's eyes, Xander replied, "Not especially."

**

Xander gave a heavy sigh as he entered unit 24 of the Hide Away Inn. "How'd it go?" David asked from his reclined position on the bed.

"I'm pretty sure it went well." Shrugging off his jacket and throwing it onto the old wooden chair in the corner, he asked, "How long did James say I have to stay here?"

"Missin' your phat apartment already, huh?" Xander shrugged and David said, "Just until the police find someone else to pin the murder on."

"Do the police bug hotel rooms?" Xander asked, looking around the room.

David shook his head. "Not for lowlifes like your father and besides, I've been here all day."

Turning back to the man on his bed, Xander asked, "Why is that?"

"James wants to make sure you're okay. He's worried."

"He's taking care of things, right?" David nodded. "Then why's he worried?"

"'Cause you're acting differently than he expects," came the reply as David sat up and crossed his legs on the bed.

"Your shoes are dirty."

"So?"

"They're on my bed."

"The bed's already nasty as fuck, Xander." Xander just continued to look at David. Finally the other man pulled off his shoes and threw them against the wall. "Better?"

"Yes," Xander said with a sigh as he moved to the bed and sat down, leaning back against the head board. "And how does James expect me to act?"

Shrugging David said, "He's just used to people with less emotions than you."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, like me. I kill someone, I don't give fuck. You beat your dad unconscious and then you spiral into this depression. He's just not used to it and he doesn't understand it."

"Do you?" he asked, his voice low as he turned his head to look David in the eye.

He thought for a minute, then took a deep breath. "There was this guy I knew in high school. I was football player for a while my sophomore year, you know, and he was a receiver, and we hung out a bit. His dad drove him hard. Never showed affection, always told him that he could be better. When he'd fumble or drop the ball or miss a catch, we could all hear his dad shouting from the stands, calling his son every name in the book. One night the guy and I, his name was Jason, we were having a couple of beers in my room and he said, 'Remember that game last week? The one when Travis threw the ball too high?' I said 'yeah.' Then he told me that when he got home after the game, his dad was waiting, called him name, told him he was good for nothing and then his dad hit him. And then hit him again and again. And then after he told me all that shit he said, 'Man, I just wish there was something I could do to make him proud. I just want my dad to love me.'" David shrugged. "So, yeah, I understand a little."

"Was your dad like that?" Xander asked, half hoping David would say yes. He wanted someone to know what he'd gone through; he wanted someone who understood, just a fraction of what his life was like.

David nodded. "My father died before he could hit me."

"Oh."

"Yeah," David nodded. "I was like five. He overdosed on the kitchen floor. After that it was just me and my mom until she was killed."

"Damn," Xander said. "She was killed?"

Nodding David explained, "When I was sixteen. She was a bank teller and they got held up and the guy took her to be his hostage."

"He shot her?"

David shook his head. "Nah. The police did. I don't know why they did. They were supposed to do everything right, you know, but they tried taking him out and he moved and boom, there goes my mom's head, you know?"

"What's you do?"

"They put me in this foster home, I ran away from it, lived on the street for a little while until James found me. He gave me a job in the kitchen of his restaurant and gave me a place to stay and helped me get my GED, not that I fucking need it. But it help the judge decide that I could take care of myself, you know, so I got emancipated and been working for James for the past seven years."

"Wow."

"That's the thing about James. He takes care of you like you're his kid. It's a good feeling, you know?"

"Yeah," Xander sighed as he scooted down the bed until his head hit the pillow. He closed his eyes. "How long do I have to stay here?" he asked again.

"Not too much longer, I wouldn't think. He's working on getting a fall guy or at least getting the police to give up on solving the case."

"Do you think they will?"

David shrugged. "From what James says, the police have no love for your father. They know all about him." When Xander opened his eyes and turned them to David, the dark haired man said, "Motherfuckers knew about what when down in that house, Xander. Motherfuckers didn't do nothing about it."

Xander closed his eyes again.

**

At nearly midnight, a knock sounded on the door. David got up and pulled on his pants. He didn't bother buttoning them as he opened the door. "What?"

Giles blinked. "Is, maybe I have the wrong room. Does Xander Harris live here?"

"What's this about?" David asked as he tried to rub away his blurry vision. When it cleared up, he flicked his eyes to the television stand a foot away and to the gun sitting on top of it.

Craning his neck, Giles saw Xander lying in the bed. It was obvious what two people had been sharing that bed. Feeling his heart sink, Giles allowed himself to notice the slope of Xander's naked back before he turned back the man at the door. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. . ."

"What do you want?"

Giles stumbled over his words. "I'm a, well, Xander and I, I'm a friend."

"Yeah, well, look, friend, it's late and as you can see he's sleeping, so why don't you come back when he's. . ." David's words trailed off as he felt Xander's hand on his shoulder. He looked over, then took a step back, allowing Xander to occupy the space in front of the open door.

"What are you doing here, Giles?" Xander asked, scratching his bare stomach. "How'd you know I was here?"

"Willow. She, um, hacked, that's what she called it, into the police computer system."

"What do you want?"

Giles blinked, looked down at Xander's bare feet, then let his eyes trail up his body, which was only covered by a pair of white cotton boxers. "I wanted to make sure you were. . ." he trailed off as his eyes focused on the man behind Xander. "Is that," Giles began to question softly. "Who is that?"

Within Xander there was this irrational anger rising up, directed at Giles. His voice was harsh when he asked, "What business is it of yours?" Taking a step backwards, like he'd been hit, Giles just shook his head. Suddenly, Xander felt hands and arms encircle his waist and then a mouth pressed against his neck. His eyes were focused on Giles, even as David's tongue swept out against his flesh.

Pulling his mouth away, David said, "Maybe it's me who could be asking who you are."

Giles looked down, then back up at Xander. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you. . ." He didn't finish his sentence, instead he said again, "I'm sorry. I'll go." And two seconds later, Giles was gone.

Turning around, Xander asked, "What're you doing?"

David stepped back, his hands leaving Xander's skin, and answered, "I thought I was helping you out. You didn't seem to want to talk to him and I. .."

Xander closed and locked the door. "Helped me out." David nodded, then stepped forward towards Xander again.

They weren't even an inch apart, their mouths only centimeters away when David said, "I'm sorry if you didn't want me too. I just thought. . ."

Boldly, Xander pressed his lips to David's and moved his hands to the other man's waist. He let his tongue slip between David's lips, but then pulled back, and hung his head, his eyes fixed on two sets of feet. "Thank you," he whispered.

He was beginning to think David wasn't going to say or do anything when David's hands moved up to cup Xander's face and tilt it upward. His face held a smile that seemed to be contagious as Xander's lips curved up. David's head swooped down and claimed another kiss as he backed Xander up until he was pressed against the door.

**

"Yes, I'm sorry to disturb you, Joyce, but it's important that I speak to Buffy."

Looking at the former Watcher wearily, Joyce said, "She's sleeping, as she often is this time of night."

"It's very important." Joyce opened the door wider, and Giles entered. "Thank you," he said softly. He watched as Joyce nodded and began climbing the stairs. He waited and after a few minutes, a sluggish Buffy was before him. "Buffy," he said softly.

"What?" she asked, her voice letting him know that she was still not happy with him.

"I wanted to apologize. I know that my mind has been elsewhere lately and for that I am sorry." Giles spoke softly as if not to jar the yet to be fully awake Slayer. "I know that while not officially your Watcher anymore, I am still your friend and still responsible for you and I am sorry that I have let those things fall to the wayside."

Buffy blinked, reajusted her tank top that said "Cows Love Grass," and then looked up at Giles. "I forgive you." She pressed herself to Giles and it took a second before Giles wrapped his arms around the girl. "But I don't forgive you for waking me up at one in the morning, okay?"

He chuckled, then pulled away. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah." Pulling in a deep breath to try to wake herself up further, she asked, "Why are you up?"

"I had things to do, I couldn't sleep."

"You found Xander?"

Giles nodded.

"And?"

Giles shook his head. "He's, uh, well, he's not exactly who he was when he was with us."

"He doesn't want to come back, does he?"

"I didn't ask."

"He didn't kill his dad, did he?"

"I didn't ask."

"Well, what did you do?"

A small, sad smile played upon the man's lips as he answered, "I woke him up, much like I did you."

~end~