JULY, 2002

Xander stood before the twin caskets, and he tried to feel grief. But even without what Giles had just told him, the feelings ran too deep. Everyone had said what nightmares his parents had been at the wedding. The antler-horned kid Dawn had chatted up had some particularly insightful remarks. What only Xander understood was that they had been on their very best behavior that day, reinforced by a subtle 'edge-smoothing' spell from poor Tara, her gift when she couldn't afford a more expensive tangible one. All they had done was glare and proposition younger people. They hadn't punched each other or him. They had always somehow made it to the bathroom in time. Not that it had saved the wedding.

Small pins lay in the coffins with them, almost unseen. Gifts from Anya, declaring that since his parents had made him the louse he was, their deaths so soon after her pain satisfied all the parameters of vengeance. Quietly, Harris swore he would allow her only three more verbal swipes before raising the iffy subject of just whose vengeance victim had played with his head. He loved her still, but her actions had played a part in things. Iffier still and held back as only a last resort was the question of the demonic philanderer's perfect timing, and D'Hoffryn suddenly offering to take her back in the wake of it all. Maybe there was nothing there. But if she didn't even out at some point, he would raise it, if only to show her there was more than just his own weakness at play.

"The first time in twenty years you two drive together anywhere, and you both have a fifth of vodka in hand. Brilliant, Mr. and Mrs. H!"

He resisted the urge to go on about anything, to yell out and moan. This was still Sunnydale, and if his loose suspicions about D'Hoffryn and perhaps even Hallie's role in events were correct, they could be waiting for him to make a wish. Besides, there were enough general demons running about that keeping his mouth shut seemed like a very good idea. Between the Buffy-back demon, the musical one, Will's post-Rack thingy and the Old Xander impostor, Sunnydale seemed to be spouting a whole demonic host no one actively remembered calling up.

"Where's the rest of your family?"

Of course she was there, he thought. Especially now.

"Asking the members of Clan Harris to sober up for more than one social gathering a year is apparently too much, Buffy. With Dawn in summer school and Will and Giles in Merry Ole', we're it."

"That's--sad. Tell me, did you---"

"I staked them and then taped them up, just like the Watcher Book said. No one noticed. They're being cremated after, anyway."

Buffy looked concerned.

"You seem so cold about the whole thing."

Xander decided to avoid his usual dance, and just say it.

 Buffy, I'm not their son. They stole me. These two losers sterilized themselves by way of drink. Long before they had me. One day, they saw a couple with twins, decided it was cosmically unfair in that whiny way they managed to imbue me with, and stole the little boy."

Buffy winced, and pulled back from the coffins.

"Crap! How low can you get?"

Xander sat down, and bid her join him. There were certainly enough chairs.

"Oh, they got low, alright. One day, so Giles now tells me, my birth-mother tracked me down, and confronted them. I had no clue who she was at the time. They apparently threatened to say that I had been molested, as was my twin. She speaks up, lets me know anything at all, they'd gladly make her life hell. So she never did. How could she? They didn't know much, but they knew how to do that."

"Is she still----"

"No. She died last year. Buffy--this is really hard for me. See, she moved here, in part to keep an eye on me from a remove. I knew her. I even saw my Dad once, barely."

Buffy nodded. She also noted that his behavior towards her had shifted, almost imperceptibly.

"Do you really wanna talk about this now?"

He almost chuckled.

"Yeah. Lots of Freudian stuff, swimming around my so-called brain. And its important you know."

So he led her outside, to a spot they both knew in the nearby cemetery, and there they stood. Buffy knew, then. It raised a whole host of concerns, answered a whole host of questions, and even managed to make her angry. After a half an hour, Dawn, out of summer school for the day, came by and saw them standing and staring at the well-known spot. She was confused.

"Xander, I dressed up for your parents' wake. Why are you both standing here at Mom's grave?"