1. First Meeting Bridges



Xander’s real family challenge. I actually have never read the challenge, just responses to it.



Spoilers: Stargate sometime early season 7 before the main story arc. And Buffy post Chosen. For the purposes of this story, Spike is completely dead.



Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Buffy or Stargate. All characters will be returned unharmed after their little jaunt through my head.



Rating: 13 for language



Summary: After the collapse of Sunnydale, Jack gets a call about a woman he knew over twenty years ago . . . and the son he never knew he had.



********************* First Meeting *********************



Jack scowled at the ringing phone. He was on leave. SG1 had finally gotten some downtime and the phone was not supposed to be ringing. The only people who called him were his teammates and he had just seen them out of his house. That only left the base, which was unfair on so many levels.



The phone rang again, and he contemplated not answering. Unfortunately, a niggling little voice in his head wouldn’t let him turn his back on what could be the end of the world. Stupid conscience.



“O’Neill,” he said just sharply enough to let whoever was calling that he was not happy.



“Jonathon O’Neill?” a cautious female voice queried.



“Is this a solicitation?” Jack asked suspiciously at the use of his first name.



“No!” said the woman quickly. “Sorry. I’m Elena Acosta with the Sunnydale County Clerk’s Office.”



“Sunnydale?” Where had he heard that name before?



“Yes,” the woman sighed heavily, tiredly. And then it clicked – the earthquake. Sinkholes underground had leveled a town in California last spring, about six months ago.



“What can I do for you?” asked Jack, softly now. The poor woman didn’t need anymore crap after her hometown had sunk into the Earth.



“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this,” said Elena. “Jessica Harris died not long after the earthquake. You’re in her Will.”



“Wait,” Jack interrupted, his mind running over the unfamiliar name in his head. Who was Jessica Harris? He didn’t know any Jessicas, did he?



“I’m sorry. I’m so bad at this,” Elena apologized, which made Jack wonder how many people before him she had called to tell that their loved ones were dead and that there was a will with their name in it. He felt both guilty and puzzled that he didn’t know this Jessica Harris, and he was about to tell Elena that when it clicked.



The beach house, LA. A two week leave before he headed out on maneuvers in South America. He’d met Sarah after he got back home, but lanky, dark Jessica was before all that. He’d known her barely two weeks. Why was he in her last Will?



“What?” asked Elena, and Jack realized he had mumbled that last allowed.



“Nothing, sorry, go on,” he said.



“In order to claim your inheritance, you need to come to our offices in Los Angeles with two government proofs of identity,” Elena explained. “Mrs. Harris managed to leave Sunnydale before the earthquake with her husband. I’m afraid I can’t disclose more than that until I have proof you are Jonathan O’Neill.”



“How did she die?” asked Jack.



“There was a riot in the neighborhood they were staying in. Neither she nor her husband made it.” Again, Elena sounded apologetic and tired.



Jack was silent for a moment, taking it all in. He wasn’t quite sure what it all meant, or how to cope with suddenly hearing about Jessica again, especially at her death. Guess he was going on vacation after all. “I’ll be there Friday.”



Elena gave him the address and a complete list of all the documentation he would need to satisfy the government that yes, he had been born. Just when he thought he had everything, Elena added a startled, “oh!” as if she had forgotten something. “Do you know where your son is, Mr. O’Neill?”



Jack suddenly sat up straight. “You mean Jessica’s son?” Sure she had made a mistake. She had had a son? Well, it only stood to reason since she had had a husband, he mentally berated himself.



“Yes,” he heard Elena smile. “Mrs. Harris’s and yours.”



“What?” That couldn’t be possible. How could he have a son and not know about him? She must have read it wrong. “We don’t have a son.”



“Oh,” Elena was clearly surprised. “You didn’t know?” she ventured, her tone telling him not to be mad at her about it.



Jack sighed. “No,” he said. He paused, thinking about this new possibility. “Are you sure?” he asked.



“Yes,” said Elena. “I’m looking at the birth certificate now. Well, once you get here, I’ll give you his information so you can look him up if you want. I doubt we would find him any faster.”



“Yeah.” Jack felt stunned, shocked, whammied. How could he have a son and not know about him? Because Special Ops didn’t leave a forwarding address. And it had never crossed his youthful brain that a couple of nights on leave would leave him with a son he didn’t know. “Thanks,” he said absently. He barely registered Elena say good-bye and hang up.



He had a son. Maybe alive, somewhere. Out in the world. He looked at his hands counting the years. He would be twenty-two or twenty-three by now, a couple years older than Charlie. Grown up. He probably had a job somewhere, maybe a girlfriend. Jack wondered what he was like.



********************************************************



The next day Jack called Daniel and trusted that word would get to Teal’c and Sam when they returned from their respective worlds of Chulak and the lab. The day after that, he was in the temporary clerk’s office in LA waiting in line with hundreds of other people. The place was small for the masses and it smelled of smoke and too many bodies. Four hours later he had a shoebox of memorabilia from that long ago leave, a small check for a couple thousand dollars, and a name: Alexander Lavell Harris.



When he got back to Colorado he gave Carter what he knew and let her work her magic while life settled back into its normal routine of missions and near death experiences. In her spare time, what little of it there was, Carter searched every file she could get her hands on, but with hard records destroyed and internet ones secure and often out of date, it was very slow going.



Jack spent the time he wasn’t yelling at Daniel wondering what Alexander, or Alex as he’d nicknamed him in his head, was like.



Six months later, Carter found an address.



*******************************************************



“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Daniel asked for the thousandth time as he watched Jack pack for his trip to Cleveland.



And for the thousandth time, Jack shook his head. “I’m sure,” he said with finality, hoping Danny would get the point this time. But he didn’t.



“Jack, it’s no problem. And you might want to have a friend around for this.” Daniel’s eyes caught his and held them. “It’s not going to be easy.”



“I know, Daniel,” Jack sighed and scrubbed his face. “But the General needs you here for the . . .” he floundered his hand around searching for the name of their latest diplomatic crises.



“Yibbites. Jack, just be careful, okay?” said Daniel. “Don’t be all . . .” This time Daniel searched for words.



“Be what?”



Daniel sighed. “Just remember your going to be telling Alex that his mother and the man he thought was his father are dead. And that you are his biological father from a one night stand with his mom.”



Jack focused on packing. “It wasn’t one night,” he grumbled, not liking what his friend was telling him, but knowing Daniel was right. He couldn’t just waltz in and expect Alex to welcome him with open arms. And that’s what he was afraid of, being rejected and cast away. That’s why Daniel wanted to come and why Jack didn’t want him there. If that happened, he wanted time to mourn. He looked back at Daniel. “I’ll be careful,” he promised.



Daniel nodded and followed him out the door to the car.



**********************************************************



Jack was nervous. He stared at the house in front of him wondering just what the hell he was doing there. It was an old house that was tucked away in a nice quiet older neighborhood of Cleveland. But it looked how a nice house should. Was Alex married? Did he have kids? Oh God, did he have kids? Jack didn’t think he could cope with grandkids on top of everything.



No. He didn’t know anything. That’s why he was here, to find out about his son. Six months and he still wasn’t completely used to the idea. Shaking off whatever paralysis had come over him, Jack got out of his rental and made his way up the drive. Noise came from the backyard but it sounded harmless enough that he ignored it for the moment and just went up the steps to the ring the bell, listening as it echoed inside. A dozen sets of footsteps followed with overlapping cries of “I’ll get it,” and suddenly the door was pulled open and Jack found himself faced with three teenage girls.



Surprised, he took a light step back. This was not what he had been expecting. All three had brown hair and were waiting for him to speak, clearly as surprised as he was to see him standing there. “Hi,” Jack kind of waved, off balance. He had double-checked the address twice.



“No pizza?” the girl in the middle asked with a slight lift of her eyebrows that quickly settled into a disappointed frown when Jack shook his head.



“Ah, no. Actually I’m here to see Mr. Harris,” he told them.



“What for?” demanded the one on the right. Jack looked from her to the others and saw that they all had narrowed their eyes at him. Over their shoulders Jack saw two more girls poke their heads around a doorjamb. What was going on here?



“Uh, I’m actually here with news about his parents,” he focused back on the rightside girl. She gave him a quick once over then stepped back, the other girls also moving aside for him to enter.



“XANDER!!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, making Jack startle back at the noise.



“What?” a voice floated down from the second floor. His son’s voice he realized. Alex – wait, the girl had called him Xander. His name was Xander. The girl yelled again before he could process that thought further.



“SOMEONE’S HERE TO SEE YOU!!!”



“Coming!” Xander called down. Jack watched the upper rail of the second floor that showed the upper hallway above him, barely noticing as the girls drifted back to whatever it was girls did here. He didn’t have to wait long. He recognized him from the picture Carter had found as the tall young man slowly descended the stairs. Except he had an eyepatch over his left eye. And his hair was longer. Why did he have an eyepatch over his left eye?



“Hey,” said Xander as he reached the last step. He was wearing blue jeans and a green t-shirt under a workman’s vest. His son was a construction worker, a foreman, he remembered. Jack clasped the offered hand with a smile, suddenly feeling like he’d been given too much air to breathe. “I’m Xander Harris. What can I do for you?”



It was only then that Jack noticed the wary look in his single eye, the way he stepped back slightly after their handshake ended. It was disappointing that he was a stranger to his own son, but Jack knew better than to have hoped otherwise.



“Jack O’Neill,” he introduced himself. “I’ve got news about your parents.”



“My parents, huh?” Xander blinked. “They’re dead, aren’t they?” He was not surprised. It was as if Jack had only confirmed what he’d known all along. Jack noticed a blond head this time listening at the doorjamb.



“Can we talk somewhere?” he asked, motioning toward their eavesdropper. Xander turned his whole head so he could see where Jack meant, then nodded and turned to an open sitting room on the right. He closed the doors and motioned for Jack to sit, settling on the beat up couch opposite him. Jack just watched him for a moment, taking him in, trying to readjust his image to fit this calm young man with one eye in working clothes. He didn’t know what he had expected, but this wasn’t it. “You knew about your parents?” he heard himself ask cautiously.



Xander looked away, to the right, to the floor. “I was in LA during the riots. They were in my uncle’s neighborhood. I didn’t know for sure . . .”



“You were there?” Jack asked surprised.



But Xander shook his head. “I was staying with some friends downtown. So do you work for the city or something? You could have just called.”



“No,” said Jack looking down at his hands. Oh, God, how was he going to do this? “The, uh, Clerk’s Office called me. I knew your mother a long time ago, and I was mentioned in the Will.”



“Huh?” His son’s calm face broke in surprise, but he waited for Jack to go on.



“I knew her before you were born,” Jack repeated. “The Clerk’s Office couldn’t find you so they gave me your name when I said I could track you down.”



“They did?” Xander still looked confused, but then his mouth clicked shut and his eyes single eye bore into Jack’s. “Why? They don’t usually release that kind if information to strangers. Who are you?” This last was said with suspicion. He had tensed up, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation, and though Jack knew the kid wouldn’t be able to touch him, it still hurt.



He reached into his pocket and offered his son his birth certificate. Xander glanced at it, back at Jack, then really read it. His hands started to shake and Jack wondered what would happen next. Wondered if he was going to get thrown out.



When Xander looked up at him again there was only anger. “What is this?” he demanded, low and dangerous.



“I just found out about it, too,” said Jack, looking away from that one terrible eye.



“These can be forged, you know.”



“It was in her Will for you to know.” He reached into his pocket again for the pictures. There were only two, both of him and Jessica standing together in front of the beach house. Xander looked at them closely, his index finger brushing over the young faces as if her could reach out and bring them back. He sniffed and stood, and when he glanced at Jack on his way to the door, his eye was brighter than it should have been.



“DAWN!” he shouted and not two seconds later the brunette who had challenged Jack at the door stuck her head in the door.



“Yeah?” she chirped, eyes slipping past him to land on Jack.



“Go check if these are real,” Xander handed her the birth certificate and the pictures.



“What?” Dawn looked at them then his son in confusion before reading the birth certificate. “Xander!”



“Dawn, just do it. Please,” his son asked tiredly. The girl looked at Jack again before nodding and leaving them to an uncomfortable silence.



Jack wondered how she would know if they were real or not and was suddenly angered by the whole situation. Angry at Jessica for not telling him about Xander, angry at Xander for not trusting him or even his evidence. How the hell was a fifteen-year-old going to verify that they were real anyway?



“She’s seventeen,” said Xander sharply, turning to glare at him. Had he said that out loud?



“Sorry, seventeen,” said Jack sarcastically. As if it made a difference. “You’re just going to take the word of a seventeen-year-old that that birth certificate is real?”



“Or forged,” said Xander coldly.



“It’s not forged.”



“We’ll see.”



“How? Is she going to wave her little magic wand?”



“Something like that.”



They stared at each other, neither one willing to back down for several minutes. His son’s arms were crossed across his chest almost like Daniel’s protective stance but somehow more dangerous. Maybe it was the eyepatch, or the shaggy head of hair.



“You look a little like my uncle when he was young,” Jack surprised them both by saying. Xander blinked and the hard expression melted to something like curiosity. Maybe if he could accept it, they could be friends. “I’m sorry for . . .” Jack paused looking for what he was sorry for. Not being there, not loving him, not playing ball, or meeting his girl, and for all of a sudden dropping this on his shoulders after he found out his parents were dead. Daniel was right; this was far from easy. “For, you know, everything,” he finished lamely.



“Xander?” Dawn’s quiet voice interrupted the tense silence. They both turned and she looked from one to the other, eyes slightly wide. “They’re real.” She held out the pictures and birth certificate. After a stunned moment, Xander took them.



“Thanks, Dawnie,” he said staring at them, processing. Dawn looked at Jack again before ducking out and closing the door.



Jack waited for Xander to acknowledge him, and when he finally looked up there were tears in his eye. He smiled weakly. “Sorry. I guess it’s just hitting me that I’m never going to see Mom again.”



“I’m sorry,” Jack said again.



Xander smiled tightly. “Thanks.” They stared at each other again but this time his son was studying him. “So I guess we should do the bonding thing,” Xander finally broke the silence.



Jack smiled in relief. He wasn’t going to be kicked out of the house after all. He had a chance here to make it work with this child he didn’t know. Once they resettled into chairs and the sofa, Xander began.



“So you married?”



He didn’t waste any time with the easy stuff. “Divorced,” said Jack. “I got married about a year after I left your mom,” he went on. It felt weird to explain something that he normally kept close to his heart. But if anyone deserved to know it was the young man before him.



“Any kids?”



Jack closed his eyes and nodded. “Charlie.” He opened them and gazed at Xander’s work boots. “He accidentally shot himself with my gun when he was ten. Sarah and I couldn’t make it through his death.” He could still remember that day as if it were yesterday. He’d never forgive himself.



“I’m sorry,” Xander almost whispered. There was no anger, no judgement, only pain when Jack met his eye, though he had a feeling that Xander wasn’t seeing him.



“What about you?” asked Jack. “Do you have a girlfriend?”



“No, no girlfriend,” Xander came back from wherever he had gone. “She . . .she’s gone.”



“And all these girls around here?” Jack felt the need to lighten the mood. How had they managed to pick the one subject that left them both depressed?



“Are unfortunately not my personal harem,” Xander grinned suddenly. “They’d all kick my ass from here to England.”



Jack smiled at the thought. “So what do you do here?”



“Me and a couple of friends are running a self-defense program for girls for the summer,” Xander waved his hand at the house in general. “After Sunnydale, we needed to get out of California. So we ended up here, with no money, and one hair-brained idea.” He shrugged. “My friends do the teaching. I’m more of the fix-whatever-gets-broken-guy.”



The doorbell rang and a stampede of footsteps rushed to the door followed soon after by the smell of pizza, which made Xander grin hesitantly, his hands rubbing against his legs with nervous energy. “Food’s here. You want?”



Jack followed his son to the kitchen where thirty girls were attacking as many pizza boxes on the counter. Most of them were dressed in workout clothes and all of them were talking. As Jack watched his son melt into the rush of youth he couldn’t help but notice that he was more than Mr. Fix-it.



“Xander! Allison took two pieces of cheese and I didn’t get any!”



“Allison, give one to Vi!”



“’S not fair!” the girl in question grumbled as Xander fixed his eye on her.



“Hey, who took my drink?”



“Xander, where are the napkins?”



“Ask Ellie and Veronica, they’re on kitchen duty for lunch.”



“No we’re not!” two girls protested with matching looks of innocence. Jack watched as Xander simply raised his eyebrow.



“Do I have to check the list?”



“Fine, we’ll find them,” one of the girls grumbled stomping off to the cabinets.



“Hey, Xander, is this your dad?” Jack suddenly found thirty pairs of eyes fixed on him. He felt like he was facing a squad of piranhas that would tear him to pieces at any second.



“I thought your dad died.”



“That was his mom’s husband who he grew up with. This is his biological dad.”



“Really? Are you sure?”



“Dawn said so.”



“Hey, all I said was the papers were for real.”



“Hey!” Xander's voice cut through all the speculation. He didn’t seem too surprised or bothered that word had gotten out in the span of ten minutes, though Jack had a feeling he himself looked shell-shocked. Who wouldn’t? He was used to handling only one teenage girl at a time, not thirty, for cryin’ out loud.



“Everyone, this is Jack O’Neill. Jack, this is almost everyone.” He leaned in close and whispered, “Don’t let them scare you,” in his ear and handed him a paper plate with two slices of pepperoni. Xander shouldered room for them at the counter and then the interrogation began.



“So where you from?” Dawn was the first to ask, squeezing in next to him at the counter.



“Colorado,” said Jack, feeling a little bit better once he took a bite of pizza.



“Colorado? Isn’t Terry from Colorado?” someone asked, but since Terry wasn’t there to confirm this, Dawn moved on.



“What do you do?”



“I’m in the Air Force.”



“Really?” several girls asked. “Do you fly planes?”



Jack turned to the waiting crowd. “Sometimes. Not as much anymore.”



“Air Force, huh?” Dawn poked his arm to get his attention. “Name, rank, and serial number.”



Jack grinned at the narrow look she was giving him and rattled off the information. There was an impressed collected gasp when he said ‘Colonel,’ but when he glanced at Xander, his son had that wary look back in his eye. Jack sighed internally, frustrated that whatever ground he had gained seemed to have been lost.



“You don’t happen to work on any top secret projects, do you?” asked Xander. And from the way he said it, Jack knew he was only half-joking. And that scared him.



“Deep space radar telemetry,” the practiced lie rolled off his lips. What did Xander know about top secret projects? He was just a kid! His kid. Oh God, his kid! Jack wanted to grab his shoulder and demand answers, but he couldn’t, not here in front of all these little girls. Not with a son he wanted a chance with.



Feeling dazed he turned back to the questions the girls kept asking. Do you have a gun? Have you been in a war? Have any of your friends died? Vaguely he recognized something strange in the questions, but preoccupied by what had prompted Xander’s question, he couldn’t tell what. It took him five minutes to notice that Dawn had disappeared.



Finally, Xander shooed the girls away and they went back to the sitting room and the dilapidated couch. His son regarded him strangely before speaking. “I didn’t mean to wig you out,” he said. “It’s just . . .this guy one of my friends dated was in the Army. It was a bad break up.”



He didn’t say anymore, but Jack got the feeling that bad was an understatement. “I’m sorry to hear that.”



Xander shrugged again. “So deep space radar telemetry? That sounds . . .fun.”



Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, if you’re asleep. And you’re a construction worker?” he asked to change the subject away from issues of national security.



“Used to be. Now I’m an out of work, one-eyed carpenter.” Jack could tell he wasn’t happy about it.



“What about this?” he asked, gesturing to the house.



“It’s more my friends’ stuff than mine,” Xander smiled sadly. “Being a carpenter was all mine, you know?”



“Yeah,” Jack found himself smiling too, understanding the need to have something that you alone were good at. “So . . . can I ask what happened? To your eye?” Jack almost held his breath, waiting to see if Xander would let him in.



“You know how they say ‘never run with scissors’?” Xander finally said. “It’s good advice.”



“Oh,” Jack looked away. Something was missing. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew a recent wound when he saw one. Xander just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. At least he hoped that was the case, and that one day his son would feel comfortable talking about it with him.



“How long are you staying?”



“Till Saturday.” It was Thursday today, so two more days. He wondered if he would be seeing more of Xander. “Id like to get to know you though. See you again,” he added, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate. “If I had known, I would have come.”



“Really?” Xander sounded like he didn’t believe him. “You barely knew my mother.”



“Wouldn’t matter.” Jack held his gaze, willing the words to sink in. Xander sat there, still skeptical. “Will you give me a chance?”



“I’ve got to go check on the girls.” Xander didn’t answer the question. “Do you have a place to stay?”



Jack nodded. “Hampton Inn.” They both stood up no longer sure what to say to each other. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?” asked Jack hopefully.



“Yeah,” Xander nodded. “I’ve got to pick up Buffy and Giles from the airport. They’ll want to meet you. If you can come around four? That way they’ll have time to interrogate you before dinner.”



“Four then,” said Jack. He didn’t like the sound of interrogation. There would probably be questions about his intentions toward Xander, death threats, that sort of thing. And Jack realized as Xander awkwardly shook his hand at the door that in an odd way he was looking forward to it.



*********************************************************







Let me know what you think. Good, bad, ugly?



* BridgesXander’s real family challenge. I actually have never read the challenge, just responses to it.Spoilers: Stargate sometime early season 7 before the main story arc. And Buffy post Chosen. For the purposes of this story, Spike is completely dead.Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Buffy or Stargate. All characters will be returned unharmed after their little jaunt through my head.Rating: 13 for languageSummary: After the collapse of Sunnydale, Jack gets a call about a woman he knew over twenty years ago . . . and the son he never knew he had.********************* First Meeting *********************Jack scowled at the ringing phone. He was on leave. SG1 had finally gotten some downtime and the phone was not supposed to be ringing. The only people who called him were his teammates and he had just seen them out of his house. That only left the base, which was unfair on so many levels.The phone rang again, and he contemplated not answering. Unfortunately, a niggling little voice in his head wouldn’t let him turn his back on what could be the end of the world. Stupid conscience.“O’Neill,” he said just sharply enough to let whoever was calling that he was not happy.“Jonathon O’Neill?” a cautious female voice queried.“Is this a solicitation?” Jack asked suspiciously at the use of his first name.“No!” said the woman quickly. “Sorry. I’m Elena Acosta with the Sunnydale County Clerk’s Office.”“Sunnydale?” Where had he heard that name before?“Yes,” the woman sighed heavily, tiredly. And then it clicked – the earthquake. Sinkholes underground had leveled a town in California last spring, about six months ago.“What can I do for you?” asked Jack, softly now. The poor woman didn’t need anymore crap after her hometown had sunk into the Earth.“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this,” said Elena. “Jessica Harris died not long after the earthquake. You’re in her Will.”“Wait,” Jack interrupted, his mind running over the unfamiliar name in his head. Who was Jessica Harris? He didn’t know any Jessicas, did he?“I’m sorry. I’m so bad at this,” Elena apologized, which made Jack wonder how many people before him she had called to tell that their loved ones were dead and that there was a will with their name in it. He felt both guilty and puzzled that he didn’t know this Jessica Harris, and he was about to tell Elena that when it clicked.The beach house, LA. A two week leave before he headed out on maneuvers in South America. He’d met Sarah after he got back home, but lanky, dark Jessica was before all that. He’d known her barely two weeks. Why was he in her last Will?“What?” asked Elena, and Jack realized he had mumbled that last allowed.“Nothing, sorry, go on,” he said.“In order to claim your inheritance, you need to come to our offices in Los Angeles with two government proofs of identity,” Elena explained. “Mrs. Harris managed to leave Sunnydale before the earthquake with her husband. I’m afraid I can’t disclose more than that until I have proof you are Jonathan O’Neill.”“How did she die?” asked Jack.“There was a riot in the neighborhood they were staying in. Neither she nor her husband made it.” Again, Elena sounded apologetic and tired.Jack was silent for a moment, taking it all in. He wasn’t quite sure what it all meant, or how to cope with suddenly hearing about Jessica again, especially at her death. Guess he was going on vacation after all. “I’ll be there Friday.”Elena gave him the address and a complete list of all the documentation he would need to satisfy the government that yes, he had been born. Just when he thought he had everything, Elena added a startled, “oh!” as if she had forgotten something. “Do you know where your son is, Mr. O’Neill?”Jack suddenly sat up straight. “You mean Jessica’s son?” Sure she had made a mistake. She had had a son? Well, it only stood to reason since she had had a husband, he mentally berated himself.“Yes,” he heard Elena smile. “Mrs. Harris’s and yours.”“What?” That couldn’t be possible. How could he have a son and not know about him? She must have read it wrong. “We don’t have a son.”“Oh,” Elena was clearly surprised. “You didn’t know?” she ventured, her tone telling him not to be mad at her about it.Jack sighed. “No,” he said. He paused, thinking about this new possibility. “Are you sure?” he asked.“Yes,” said Elena. “I’m looking at the birth certificate now. Well, once you get here, I’ll give you his information so you can look him up if you want. I doubt we would find him any faster.”“Yeah.” Jack felt stunned, shocked, whammied. How could he have a son and not know about him? Because Special Ops didn’t leave a forwarding address. And it had never crossed his youthful brain that a couple of nights on leave would leave him with a son he didn’t know. “Thanks,” he said absently. He barely registered Elena say good-bye and hang up.He had a son. Maybe alive, somewhere. Out in the world. He looked at his hands counting the years. He would be twenty-two or twenty-three by now, a couple years older than Charlie. Grown up. He probably had a job somewhere, maybe a girlfriend. Jack wondered what he was like.********************************************************The next day Jack called Daniel and trusted that word would get to Teal’c and Sam when they returned from their respective worlds of Chulak and the lab. The day after that, he was in the temporary clerk’s office in LA waiting in line with hundreds of other people. The place was small for the masses and it smelled of smoke and too many bodies. Four hours later he had a shoebox of memorabilia from that long ago leave, a small check for a couple thousand dollars, and a name: Alexander Lavell Harris.When he got back to Colorado he gave Carter what he knew and let her work her magic while life settled back into its normal routine of missions and near death experiences. In her spare time, what little of it there was, Carter searched every file she could get her hands on, but with hard records destroyed and internet ones secure and often out of date, it was very slow going.Jack spent the time he wasn’t yelling at Daniel wondering what Alexander, or Alex as he’d nicknamed him in his head, was like.Six months later, Carter found an address.*******************************************************“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Daniel asked for the thousandth time as he watched Jack pack for his trip to Cleveland.And for the thousandth time, Jack shook his head. “I’m sure,” he said with finality, hoping Danny would get the point this time. But he didn’t.“Jack, it’s no problem. And you might want to have a friend around for this.” Daniel’s eyes caught his and held them. “It’s not going to be easy.”“I know, Daniel,” Jack sighed and scrubbed his face. “But the General needs you here for the . . .” he floundered his hand around searching for the name of their latest diplomatic crises.“Yibbites. Jack, just be careful, okay?” said Daniel. “Don’t be all . . .” This time Daniel searched for words.“Be what?”Daniel sighed. “Just remember your going to be telling Alex that his mother and the man he thought was his father are dead. And that you are his biological father from a one night stand with his mom.”Jack focused on packing. “It wasn’t one night,” he grumbled, not liking what his friend was telling him, but knowing Daniel was right. He couldn’t just waltz in and expect Alex to welcome him with open arms. And that’s what he was afraid of, being rejected and cast away. That’s why Daniel wanted to come and why Jack didn’t want him there. If that happened, he wanted time to mourn. He looked back at Daniel. “I’ll be careful,” he promised.Daniel nodded and followed him out the door to the car.**********************************************************Jack was nervous. He stared at the house in front of him wondering just what the hell he was doing there. It was an old house that was tucked away in a nice quiet older neighborhood of Cleveland. But it looked how a nice house should. Was Alex married? Did he have kids? Oh God, did he have kids? Jack didn’t think he could cope with grandkids on top of everything.No. He didn’t know anything. That’s why he was here, to find out about his son. Six months and he still wasn’t completely used to the idea. Shaking off whatever paralysis had come over him, Jack got out of his rental and made his way up the drive. Noise came from the backyard but it sounded harmless enough that he ignored it for the moment and just went up the steps to the ring the bell, listening as it echoed inside. A dozen sets of footsteps followed with overlapping cries of “I’ll get it,” and suddenly the door was pulled open and Jack found himself faced with three teenage girls.Surprised, he took a light step back. This was not what he had been expecting. All three had brown hair and were waiting for him to speak, clearly as surprised as he was to see him standing there. “Hi,” Jack kind of waved, off balance. He had double-checked the address twice.“No pizza?” the girl in the middle asked with a slight lift of her eyebrows that quickly settled into a disappointed frown when Jack shook his head.“Ah, no. Actually I’m here to see Mr. Harris,” he told them.“What for?” demanded the one on the right. Jack looked from her to the others and saw that they all had narrowed their eyes at him. Over their shoulders Jack saw two more girls poke their heads around a doorjamb. What was going on here?“Uh, I’m actually here with news about his parents,” he focused back on the rightside girl. She gave him a quick once over then stepped back, the other girls also moving aside for him to enter.“XANDER!!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, making Jack startle back at the noise.“What?” a voice floated down from the second floor. His son’s voice he realized. Alex – wait, the girl had called him Xander. His name was Xander. The girl yelled again before he could process that thought further.“SOMEONE’S HERE TO SEE YOU!!!”“Coming!” Xander called down. Jack watched the upper rail of the second floor that showed the upper hallway above him, barely noticing as the girls drifted back to whatever it was girls did here. He didn’t have to wait long. He recognized him from the picture Carter had found as the tall young man slowly descended the stairs. Except he had an eyepatch over his left eye. And his hair was longer. Why did he have an eyepatch over his left eye?“Hey,” said Xander as he reached the last step. He was wearing blue jeans and a green t-shirt under a workman’s vest. His son was a construction worker, a foreman, he remembered. Jack clasped the offered hand with a smile, suddenly feeling like he’d been given too much air to breathe. “I’m Xander Harris. What can I do for you?”It was only then that Jack noticed the wary look in his single eye, the way he stepped back slightly after their handshake ended. It was disappointing that he was a stranger to his own son, but Jack knew better than to have hoped otherwise.“Jack O’Neill,” he introduced himself. “I’ve got news about your parents.”“My parents, huh?” Xander blinked. “They’re dead, aren’t they?” He was not surprised. It was as if Jack had only confirmed what he’d known all along. Jack noticed a blond head this time listening at the doorjamb.“Can we talk somewhere?” he asked, motioning toward their eavesdropper. Xander turned his whole head so he could see where Jack meant, then nodded and turned to an open sitting room on the right. He closed the doors and motioned for Jack to sit, settling on the beat up couch opposite him. Jack just watched him for a moment, taking him in, trying to readjust his image to fit this calm young man with one eye in working clothes. He didn’t know what he had expected, but this wasn’t it. “You knew about your parents?” he heard himself ask cautiously.Xander looked away, to the right, to the floor. “I was in LA during the riots. They were in my uncle’s neighborhood. I didn’t know for sure . . .”“You were there?” Jack asked surprised.But Xander shook his head. “I was staying with some friends downtown. So do you work for the city or something? You could have just called.”“No,” said Jack looking down at his hands. Oh, God, how was he going to do this? “The, uh, Clerk’s Office called me. I knew your mother a long time ago, and I was mentioned in the Will.”“Huh?” His son’s calm face broke in surprise, but he waited for Jack to go on.“I knew her before you were born,” Jack repeated. “The Clerk’s Office couldn’t find you so they gave me your name when I said I could track you down.”“They did?” Xander still looked confused, but then his mouth clicked shut and his eyes single eye bore into Jack’s. “Why? They don’t usually release that kind if information to strangers. Who are you?” This last was said with suspicion. He had tensed up, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation, and though Jack knew the kid wouldn’t be able to touch him, it still hurt.He reached into his pocket and offered his son his birth certificate. Xander glanced at it, back at Jack, then really read it. His hands started to shake and Jack wondered what would happen next. Wondered if he was going to get thrown out.When Xander looked up at him again there was only anger. “What is this?” he demanded, low and dangerous.“I just found out about it, too,” said Jack, looking away from that one terrible eye.“These can be forged, you know.”“It was in her Will for you to know.” He reached into his pocket again for the pictures. There were only two, both of him and Jessica standing together in front of the beach house. Xander looked at them closely, his index finger brushing over the young faces as if her could reach out and bring them back. He sniffed and stood, and when he glanced at Jack on his way to the door, his eye was brighter than it should have been.“DAWN!” he shouted and not two seconds later the brunette who had challenged Jack at the door stuck her head in the door.“Yeah?” she chirped, eyes slipping past him to land on Jack.“Go check if these are real,” Xander handed her the birth certificate and the pictures.“What?” Dawn looked at them then his son in confusion before reading the birth certificate. “Xander!”“Dawn, just do it. Please,” his son asked tiredly. The girl looked at Jack again before nodding and leaving them to an uncomfortable silence.Jack wondered how she would know if they were real or not and was suddenly angered by the whole situation. Angry at Jessica for not telling him about Xander, angry at Xander for not trusting him or even his evidence. How the hell was a fifteen-year-old going to verify that they were real anyway?“She’s seventeen,” said Xander sharply, turning to glare at him. Had he said that out loud?“Sorry, seventeen,” said Jack sarcastically. As if it made a difference. “You’re just going to take the word of a seventeen-year-old that that birth certificate is real?”“Or forged,” said Xander coldly.“It’s not forged.”“We’ll see.”“How? Is she going to wave her little magic wand?”“Something like that.”They stared at each other, neither one willing to back down for several minutes. His son’s arms were crossed across his chest almost like Daniel’s protective stance but somehow more dangerous. Maybe it was the eyepatch, or the shaggy head of hair.“You look a little like my uncle when he was young,” Jack surprised them both by saying. Xander blinked and the hard expression melted to something like curiosity. Maybe if he could accept it, they could be friends. “I’m sorry for . . .” Jack paused looking for what he was sorry for. Not being there, not loving him, not playing ball, or meeting his girl, and for all of a sudden dropping this on his shoulders after he found out his parents were dead. Daniel was right; this was far from easy. “For, you know, everything,” he finished lamely.“Xander?” Dawn’s quiet voice interrupted the tense silence. They both turned and she looked from one to the other, eyes slightly wide. “They’re real.” She held out the pictures and birth certificate. After a stunned moment, Xander took them.“Thanks, Dawnie,” he said staring at them, processing. Dawn looked at Jack again before ducking out and closing the door.Jack waited for Xander to acknowledge him, and when he finally looked up there were tears in his eye. He smiled weakly. “Sorry. I guess it’s just hitting me that I’m never going to see Mom again.”“I’m sorry,” Jack said again.Xander smiled tightly. “Thanks.” They stared at each other again but this time his son was studying him. “So I guess we should do the bonding thing,” Xander finally broke the silence.Jack smiled in relief. He wasn’t going to be kicked out of the house after all. He had a chance here to make it work with this child he didn’t know. Once they resettled into chairs and the sofa, Xander began.“So you married?”He didn’t waste any time with the easy stuff. “Divorced,” said Jack. “I got married about a year after I left your mom,” he went on. It felt weird to explain something that he normally kept close to his heart. But if anyone deserved to know it was the young man before him.“Any kids?”Jack closed his eyes and nodded. “Charlie.” He opened them and gazed at Xander’s work boots. “He accidentally shot himself with my gun when he was ten. Sarah and I couldn’t make it through his death.” He could still remember that day as if it were yesterday. He’d never forgive himself.“I’m sorry,” Xander almost whispered. There was no anger, no judgement, only pain when Jack met his eye, though he had a feeling that Xander wasn’t seeing him.“What about you?” asked Jack. “Do you have a girlfriend?”“No, no girlfriend,” Xander came back from wherever he had gone. “She . . .she’s gone.”“And all these girls around here?” Jack felt the need to lighten the mood. How had they managed to pick the one subject that left them both depressed?“Are unfortunately not my personal harem,” Xander grinned suddenly. “They’d all kick my ass from here to England.”Jack smiled at the thought. “So what do you do here?”“Me and a couple of friends are running a self-defense program for girls for the summer,” Xander waved his hand at the house in general. “After Sunnydale, we needed to get out of California. So we ended up here, with no money, and one hair-brained idea.” He shrugged. “My friends do the teaching. I’m more of the fix-whatever-gets-broken-guy.”The doorbell rang and a stampede of footsteps rushed to the door followed soon after by the smell of pizza, which made Xander grin hesitantly, his hands rubbing against his legs with nervous energy. “Food’s here. You want?”Jack followed his son to the kitchen where thirty girls were attacking as many pizza boxes on the counter. Most of them were dressed in workout clothes and all of them were talking. As Jack watched his son melt into the rush of youth he couldn’t help but notice that he was more than Mr. Fix-it.“Xander! Allison took two pieces of cheese and I didn’t get any!”“Allison, give one to Vi!”“’S not fair!” the girl in question grumbled as Xander fixed his eye on her.“Hey, who took my drink?”“Xander, where are the napkins?”“Ask Ellie and Veronica, they’re on kitchen duty for lunch.”“No we’re not!” two girls protested with matching looks of innocence. Jack watched as Xander simply raised his eyebrow.“Do I have to check the list?”“Fine, we’ll find them,” one of the girls grumbled stomping off to the cabinets.“Hey, Xander, is this your dad?” Jack suddenly found thirty pairs of eyes fixed on him. He felt like he was facing a squad of piranhas that would tear him to pieces at any second.“I thought your dad died.”“That was his mom’s husband who he grew up with. This is his biological dad.”“Really? Are you sure?”“Dawn said so.”“Hey, all I said was the papers were for real.”“Hey!” Xander's voice cut through all the speculation. He didn’t seem too surprised or bothered that word had gotten out in the span of ten minutes, though Jack had a feeling he himself looked shell-shocked. Who wouldn’t? He was used to handling only one teenage girl at a time, not thirty, for cryin’ out loud.“Everyone, this is Jack O’Neill. Jack, this is almost everyone.” He leaned in close and whispered, “Don’t let them scare you,” in his ear and handed him a paper plate with two slices of pepperoni. Xander shouldered room for them at the counter and then the interrogation began.“So where you from?” Dawn was the first to ask, squeezing in next to him at the counter.“Colorado,” said Jack, feeling a little bit better once he took a bite of pizza.“Colorado? Isn’t Terry from Colorado?” someone asked, but since Terry wasn’t there to confirm this, Dawn moved on.“What do you do?”“I’m in the Air Force.”“Really?” several girls asked. “Do you fly planes?”Jack turned to the waiting crowd. “Sometimes. Not as much anymore.”“Air Force, huh?” Dawn poked his arm to get his attention. “Name, rank, and serial number.”Jack grinned at the narrow look she was giving him and rattled off the information. There was an impressed collected gasp when he said ‘Colonel,’ but when he glanced at Xander, his son had that wary look back in his eye. Jack sighed internally, frustrated that whatever ground he had gained seemed to have been lost.“You don’t happen to work on any top secret projects, do you?” asked Xander. And from the way he said it, Jack knew he was only half-joking. And that scared him.“Deep space radar telemetry,” the practiced lie rolled off his lips. What did Xander know about top secret projects? He was just a kid! His kid. Oh God, his kid! Jack wanted to grab his shoulder and demand answers, but he couldn’t, not here in front of all these little girls. Not with a son he wanted a chance with.Feeling dazed he turned back to the questions the girls kept asking. Do you have a gun? Have you been in a war? Have any of your friends died? Vaguely he recognized something strange in the questions, but preoccupied by what had prompted Xander’s question, he couldn’t tell what. It took him five minutes to notice that Dawn had disappeared.Finally, Xander shooed the girls away and they went back to the sitting room and the dilapidated couch. His son regarded him strangely before speaking. “I didn’t mean to wig you out,” he said. “It’s just . . .this guy one of my friends dated was in the Army. It was a bad break up.”He didn’t say anymore, but Jack got the feeling that bad was an understatement. “I’m sorry to hear that.”Xander shrugged again. “So deep space radar telemetry? That sounds . . .fun.”Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, if you’re asleep. And you’re a construction worker?” he asked to change the subject away from issues of national security.“Used to be. Now I’m an out of work, one-eyed carpenter.” Jack could tell he wasn’t happy about it.“What about this?” he asked, gesturing to the house.“It’s more my friends’ stuff than mine,” Xander smiled sadly. “Being a carpenter was all mine, you know?”“Yeah,” Jack found himself smiling too, understanding the need to have something that you alone were good at. “So . . . can I ask what happened? To your eye?” Jack almost held his breath, waiting to see if Xander would let him in.“You know how they say ‘never run with scissors’?” Xander finally said. “It’s good advice.”“Oh,” Jack looked away. Something was missing. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew a recent wound when he saw one. Xander just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. At least he hoped that was the case, and that one day his son would feel comfortable talking about it with him.“How long are you staying?”“Till Saturday.” It was Thursday today, so two more days. He wondered if he would be seeing more of Xander. “Id like to get to know you though. See you again,” he added, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate. “If I had known, I would have come.”“Really?” Xander sounded like he didn’t believe him. “You barely knew my mother.”“Wouldn’t matter.” Jack held his gaze, willing the words to sink in. Xander sat there, still skeptical. “Will you give me a chance?”“I’ve got to go check on the girls.” Xander didn’t answer the question. “Do you have a place to stay?”Jack nodded. “Hampton Inn.” They both stood up no longer sure what to say to each other. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?” asked Jack hopefully.“Yeah,” Xander nodded. “I’ve got to pick up Buffy and Giles from the airport. They’ll want to meet you. If you can come around four? That way they’ll have time to interrogate you before dinner.”“Four then,” said Jack. He didn’t like the sound of interrogation. There would probably be questions about his intentions toward Xander, death threats, that sort of thing. And Jack realized as Xander awkwardly shook his hand at the door that in an odd way he was looking forward to it.*********************************************************Let me know what you think. Good, bad, ugly?

2. Second Time Through Bridges 2: Second Time Through



Wow! Thanks for all the support out there! It really means a lot. I’ve never gotten this many reviews for one chapter before. I’ll just warn you now that I wrote the first bit by accident, so we’ll see how updates go.



Thanks to DonSample for pointing out Xander’s mother’s name. I went back and fixed that and a few other things in part one.





***************************** Second Time Through ************************



Xander stared at the closed door, listening as Jack’s car started up and drove off. It all felt so surreal, like he was watching someone else’s life. Because how could this be happening?



With a sigh, Xander turned and headed out back to check on the girls in the yard. They were talking and laughing as Vi led them through their stretches, the novelty of their calling not yet worn away. Xander let them be and went inside, back upstairs to his room. His unfinished email to Willow was still on the screen where he had left it. He’d have to rewrite it now, he thought. Add that his parents were dead.



Turning away from the computer, he sat instead on his bed, elbows on knees as he gazed at the pictures Jack had given him. He had lost all his pictures when they closed the Hellmouth, not that he’d had many of his parents.



Dead. His parents were dead. He felt his eye prick and a tear slide down his cheek. They were gone. It was one thing to look at the carnage from the riots and guess, another to hear the words that cemented it into reality. His mom had been so beautiful. Young, free. She couldn’t have been much older in the picture than Xander was now, but he had never felt as young as she looked. At least not in a long, long time. And she was gone now. Like Anya. And as much as he had sometimes hated his parents, he wanted nothing more than to see them one last time. But he couldn’t. Xander’s head fell into his hands and silent sobs accompanied the pictures falling to the floor.



He didn’t know how long he sat there, but after a while he felt someone sit on the bed next to him and an arm snake around his waist. Sighing he sat up and hugged Dawn back, glad of the simple comfort she offered. Neither of them said anything; they didn’t have to.



“I’m sorry about your parents,” Dawn said softly after a while.



Xander let out a soft, sad huff of air and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Yeah. I never would have thought I’d be crying over them.”



“They were still your parents,” Dawn replied. Xander caught the note of longing in her voice. Their dad still hadn’t contacted them. Not like Jack.



“And now there’s this guy who says he’s my real dad.” Xander still didn’t know if he believed it or not.



“I googled him,” said Dawn. “He’s who he says he is. We’ll have to get Willow to do the deep dark secret search. And a paternity test if you want.”



“Yeah,” he absently agreed, thinking back over the man who had flown from Colorado just to see him.



For an old guy, Jack was in shape and actually looked pretty good over all. Also not horribly out of fashion, he noted remembering the casual khakis, shirt, and leather jacket he had worn. Xander couldn’t decide if that bothered him or not. Then he wondered why he was focusing on something so entirely irrelevant.



“He’s coming back tomorrow,” he told Dawn. “He says he wants to get to know me.”



“Is that good?” asked Dawn hesitantly. “I mean, do you really think he’s your dad?”



Xander shrugged not wanting to think about it but unable not to. He’d lost his original birth certificate with everything else in Sunnydale. Regardless, having someone else call him son wasn’t really going to change anything. Dad hadn’t really been his dad since high school anyway. “He thinks so. Said I looked like his uncle.”



“What did you talk about?”



“Nothing really. I asked about his family, he asked if I had a girlfriend.” But she was gone too. “He asked about my eye.” Dawn nodded and silence settled over them again.



Xander wondered where this was going to go. He wondered why he had told Jack he could come back. With his current luck he would probably turn out to be another demon trying to get to them through him. His eye found the pictures on the floor. Mom and Jack. Jack and Mom. “Are they really real?” he half-whispered.



“Willow’s all-purpose truth spell came up positive.”



So maybe not a demon. He hadn’t even gotten to the Colonel thing yet. Those were scabs best left alone for now.



“Can I come with you to pick up Buffy and Giles?” asked Dawn, breaking the quiet.



“Yeah,” he turned and smiled at her, for real this time. “Thanks. I could use the company.”



“Anytime.” And they both knew it was about more than a ride to the airport. Dawn gave him a final squeeze then left to get back to whatever translation she was working on for Giles. Xander stared after her for a minute before going back to the email to Willow who was somewhere on the East Coast. He deleted the last few lines then started a new paragraph.



************************************************



The next day after overseeing the usual chaos that was cooking for and feeding over thirty slayers and making sure the veterans had the newbies under control, Xander and Dawn headed for the airport with Dawn in the driver’s seat. They hadn’t told Buffy yet that she’d gotten her license, deciding that what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. She’d become better about letting Dawn grow up but still had the tendency to be overprotective. So when she was gone, Xander let Dawn drive. And if she found out he had his lack of depth perception as an excuse.



The airport was noisy but not too crowded. They waited in the baggage claim area passing the time by filling in the words to other peoples conversations as they greeted each other. It was nice to just sit and people-watch with Dawn, see how the other side lived. Xander hadn’t done this since working construction.



They had been waiting for about twenty minutes when two familiar figures finally came down the escalator. Beside him, Dawn shrieked and bounded over to tackle her sister and Giles, Xander trailing in her wake. Having just come from London, they both looked tired and unkempt, but happy to be back. Giles smiled at him and gave him a hug when he reached them. Dawn was already chattering a mile a minute at Buffy with no sign of stopping, so Xander took his life into his own hands and commandeered the slayer for a hug, which she laughingly returned. Dawn’s commentary on life at the house never stopped.



By the time they got their bags and were on the way home Dawn had caught them up since their last phone call four days ago. While the news about Xander’s parents didn’t surprised them, the news about his possible father did. But Dawn, bless her, wouldn’t let them ask questions, saying they could get the details after they got home. She wanted to hear about London while she had them to herself. So they pushed aside talk of Jack in favor of making fun of the Land of Tweed. Even Giles had a thing or two to say about British drivers.



As far as work went, the rebuilding of the Council was progressing slowly, but progressing nonetheless. Though Xander got the impression that Buffy had spent most of their time dragging Giles to see the sights. She looked good. She looked like she’d finally had some badly needed rest.



Xander smiled as he watched the girls go on in the back seat about all the crazy things Buffy had tried in order to get the guards at Buckingham Palace to quit their statue routine. Beside him, Giles shook his head, silently denying any part in the escapade. Just like normal. It was good to have everyone home.



******************************************



At precisely four o’clock, Jack rang the doorbell to the nice, old house where Xander lived with a bunch of girls. It was simply too odd to contemplate at the moment, so Jack wisely chose not to as he listened to the stampede heading for the door. This time two brunettes, a blond, and one faded blue met him cheerfully at the door.



“Hi,” Jack smiled more sure of himself today.



The girls giggled and said, “Hi, Jack,” as they let him in.



“XANDER!!!” two of them shouted together, this time toward the back of the house, and once again Jack winced at the noise. He figured it wasn’t often quiet around here.



Xander emerged from the back hallway followed by another, much older man. He had gray hair and glasses and wore a blue pullover, managing to look both casual and distinguished at the same time. Jack wondered who he was, maybe a parent dropping off his daughter?



“Hey!” another girl shouted from the kitchen. “Buffy says break’s over,” she called to the teenagers who had let him in. With a chorus of disappointed ‘awe’s, the four reluctantly retreated casting wishful looks over their shoulders.



“They never give up,” said Xander by way of greeting, watching the girls leave. “Of course I don’t blame ‘em for wanting to avoid Buffy.” He turned back to Jack and the parent who hadn’t left yet. “So Jack, this is Rupert Giles. He’s helping us out for the summer. Giles, Jack O’Neill.”



“A pleasure to meet you,” said Mr. Giles in a soft British accent.



To say Jack was surprised would have been a gross understatement. This was Giles? Xander’s friend that he was running this place with? He had expected Giles to be some dumb kid, another refugee from Sunnydale with no money and a stupid idea. One old man, one young one and thirty teenage girls did not paint a pretty picture. And he was British! Just what had this guy gotten his son wrapped up in?



Hiding his surprise and suspicion with a neutral smile, Jack shook the offered hand. Mr. Giles had a firm handshake that almost hurt, but his mild expression suggested he wasn’t aware of it. “Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”



“Uh, coffee would be great,” said Jack, the civil custom bringing him up short and reminding him of his manners. This was Xander’s ‘friend’ after all, good or not, and for once he didn’t want to pick a fight.



Xander disappeared into the kitchen to get the drinks while Mr. Giles led Jack into the sitting room. Mr. Giles didn’t say anything to him, instead seeming to prefer to let Jack make the first move. It was all very uncomfortable. Jack wasn’t quite sure what was going on but he wanted to find out. Now.



“So how do you know Xander?” he asked as innocuously as possible.



Mr. Giles didn’t flinch. “I’ve known him since he was in high school. Yourself?”



“I, uh.” Suddenly thrown on the defensive when he knew Mr. Giles was aware of who he was made Jack take a strong dislike to the man. He was being tested and he really didn’t like it. “I’m his father. His biological father anyway. But you knew that.”



“I know that’s what you claim,” Mr. Giles met his challenging gaze. “A birth certificate and a picture are hardly concluding evidence.”



“Xander seems to think so.”



“Does he?” Mr. Giles lifted a skeptical eyebrow. And suddenly Jack wasn’t sure. Yesterday, after Dawn had confirmed the birth certificate they had talked . . . it hadn’t been the most stellar conversation he’d ever had, but he thought they had made progress.



“It was in his mother’s will,” said Jack, needing something solid to hold onto. He remembered reading it. “I didn’t find out until they called me about it.”



“Again, all we have is your word on that,” Mr. Giles replied. “But I suppose that is neither here nor there at the moment since it can easily be cleared up at the hospital.”



“What?”



“You know, your DNA, my DNA. Seeing if it’s all happy little DNA,” said Xander joining them with the drinks. “It’s not that we don’t trust you, it’s just that, well . . . we don’t.” He handed Jack a Snoopy mug. “Milk or sugar?”



Jack shook his head, sighed and pushed the hurt away. To be honest he had anticipated doing a paternity test sometime. He just didn’t know if he could handle it if it came out negative. He watched as Xander handed Mr. Giles a Kiss the Librarian mug and settled beside him on the couch with his own that said ‘We heart Snow’.



His son, because he knew he was, looked better today, more relaxed than yesterday to be sure. And he looked comfortable sitting next to Mr. Giles, which rankled Jack a bit because it wasn’t him. Who was this guy anyway? And what was he doing here? How did he know Xander? Yesterday’s challenge of impressing the friends wasn’t so fun anymore when confronted with this man.



“So when do you want to do the test?” he asked. “I’ve got to get back tomorrow.”



“I already set up an appointment at the clinic in town in the morning,” said Xander. “And it wasn’t easy getting a spot on such short notice.”



“Oh.” Jack wasn’t sure what to say to that. “That’s good.” And awfully fast. Jack tried not to think about what would happen if it came back negative. He’d been dreaming of this meeting for six months. Of course the reality of it was far from anything he had expected, but at least there was still hope.



“So,” said Mr. Giles. “You work at NORAD, Colonel?”



Jack glanced up sharply at the man, wondering just why he asked that. He’d never said anything about where he worked yesterday. And he didn’t like that look of mild curiosity either. “And you teach teenaged girls . . . self defense?” he shot back, letting him know exactly what he thought of the situation.



To his surprise, Mr. Giles actually blushed. “Yes, actually,” he sputtered. “It’s not what you’re implying.”



“I wasn’t implying anything,” Jack denied, happy he’d finally scored a hit. “Just wondering what you’ve got my son doing here.”



“Hey! Why should you care?” Xander snapped. “You don’t live here. And even if you are my biological father, so what? You haven’t been a part of my life. You don’t know the first thing about us.”



“I wasn’t there because I didn’t know about you. I’m here now,” said Jack a little too desperately. This wasn’t happening, was it? “I want to get to know you. Why do you think I came here?”



“I don’t know!” Xander suddenly shouted back. “You just showed up, all ‘Luke I am your father’ and you’re not like him and I don’t even know you.”



“Xander,” Mr. Giles put a calming hand on the young man’s shoulder while Jack looked on in shock. Did that even make sense? “Xander, why don’t you go check on Andrew in the kitchen,” said Mr. Giles.



Xander ignored him. “What, you tell me my parents are dead and expect to take their place protecting me? I’m not a kid.”



“I’m not expecting anything!” Jack yelled back, feeling like he’d been kicked in the teeth. He’s was going to lose him! The thought seared through his mind like fire, burning so deep it was all he could think of.



“Xander,” Mr. Giles repeated sharply.



“Yeah. Fine, whatever.” Without sparing a glance for Jack, his son stormed out of the room leaving Jack with the older man. Mildness replaced by ruthless hostility.



Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. Shit. This wasn’t going right. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said not quite sure what had just happened. “Whatever I said – ”



“I daresay you called me a pervert,” Mr. Giles interrupted coldly.



Jack bristled. “I – ”



“I don’t want to hear it,” Mr. Giles cut him off again. “You want to make sure he’s all right, I can see that. You can say anything you want to about me; I honestly don’t care, but I highly doubt that insulting his friends will garner you his good will, however well intentioned.”



“I’m sorry,” Jack repeated with a sigh. “I’ll admit I’m probably jumping to conclusions, but frankly I don’t like you,” he bit out. “Whatever you’re doing here doesn’t look good from where I’m sitting. I know it’s a little late, but I just want what’s best for him.”



“As do I Colonel O’Neill,” said Mr. Giles. “Even if that means getting rid of you.”



Jack caught his breath. He must have heard wrong. “Did you just threaten me?” he asked, eyebrows lifted at the audacity. Mr. Giles continued to calmly stare him down.



“I’ll leave the threats to the girls. They have a much more colorful way of putting things,” said Mr. Giles, and Jack knew he wasn’t talking about the girls he’d met yesterday. “But let me make one thing perfectly clear: neither your rank nor your government will be able to protect you from me if you have one ill thought toward Xander.” Now Jack was used to being threatened, in fact he often felt that in his old age he was getting rather immune to it. But at the moment he got the feeling that he was treading on very thin ice. Mr. Giles’s tone was clear, crisp, and deadly, his accent only chilling Jack more as eyes full of mortal promise bored into him.



Whatever he had thought before about Mr. Giles being mild mannered when right out the window. “You have my word,” Jack murmured seriously.



“Good.” And like that, the spell was broken so quickly Jack wondered if it had really happened. “Then you can stay for supper.” Mr. Giles smiled at him with only a hint of his earlier menace and took a sip of his tea. “So, Colonel, how do you like Cleveland?”



Jack tried to smile back and hoped he would make it out of this conversation intact.



*************************************************



The constant sound of knife against cutting board pounded like the blood through Xander’s head. He could feel Andrew watching him from across the island counter and wished he could say something reassuring but he didn’t know what. Hell, he couldn’t even sort out why he was mad. Yesterday Jack had been okay and today he and Giles were at each other’s throats.



Xander cleared the chopped carrots into the waiting pot and grabbed another handful. Something about Jack scared him. He was so . . . certain about being his dad. And he cared. And Xander didn’t know how to handle that, not from some stranger he met yesterday who was fifty years old and in the damn army.



But there was a niggling voice in the back of mind whispering “what if . . .” What if Mom had told Jack? What if he stuck around like he said he would have? As a kid in middle school, when things had really started to go downhill in the Harris household, Xander had sometimes imagined having different parents. Parents who didn’t drink, didn’t yell at him, and didn’t make him want to sleep outside on Christmas Eve.



Xander dumped the carrots in with the others, grabbing the last handful, but his hands were shaking so badly now, he cut his finger, red blood spilling over and clashing with the orange to make a nice vampire rabbit snack. His blood, Jack’s blood. They’d find out tomorrow. They still didn’t know for sure. Would Jack still care even if he wasn’t his father?



Taking the carrots with him to the sink, Xander ran cold water over the wound and ignored Andrew’s fussing as the blood washed away. It didn’t matter. Blood didn’t make you family, it only gave you a place to start. And Xander had a family. He didn’t need someone who didn’t know the first thing about him or Giles or anyone to come in making assumptions. Tomorrow they’d know for sure, then Jack would go back to his army and life would get back to normal on the Cleveland Hellmouth. Maybe he’d get a Christmas card like Buffy used to get from her dad. Whatever. It didn’t matter.



***************************************************



Jack was impressed that he and Mr. Giles had managed to find safe ground in seventies music. Granted it had taken Cleveland’s weather, England’s weather, Colorado’s weather, and an aborted attempt at sports to get there, but they did manage to have a civilized conversation without mentioning Xander or what anyone actually did for a living. Nevertheless, Jack was relieved when the sitting room door opened and put an end to the conversation.



Unsurprisingly, it was a girl, a blonde this time and fairly short. She was wearing a tank top and sweat pants, obviously just having come in from a workout session.



“Hey, Giles,” she practically bubbled though her eyes never left Jack as both he and Mr. Giles stood. “This him?” she asked, giving him a professional once over.



“Uh, yes. Colonel, may I introduce Buffy Summers, one of our instructors here. Buffy, Jack O’Neill.”



“Ms. Summers,” Jack used his best smile for Xander’s other friend. By the way she was eyeing him this must be one of the girls Mr. Giles had mentioned. She took his offered hand with a firm grasp, leaving a sheen of sweat behind.



“So you’re the dad, huh?” She didn’t seem too impressed.



“That would be me,” Jack affirmed.



“So if this pans out, you planning on becoming a fixture or is this a nice-to-meet-ya-I’m-going-off-to-Spain-with-my-secretary kinda deal?”



“Uh . . .” Unsure just what she had asked, Jack suddenly wished Daniel were there to translate.



“Well?” Her sharp gaze just sharpened even more while he stood there like an idiot.



“What Buffy is asking is if you plan on being a part of Xander’s life if you are indeed his father,” Mr. Giles helped him out, though Jack swore that the two questions didn’t share a word.



“What he said,” reiterated Buffy impatiently.



Feeling like he was caught between a rock and a hard place with one in front of him and one behind, Jack nodded. “Yeah. If he’ll let me.”



“Good,” said Buffy taking a step closer and staring into his eyes. “Because if you back out I’ll rip off your arms, shove one down your throat and the other up your ass so you can twiddle you thumbs in your stomach. Do I make myself clear?”



“Uh, yeah,” said Jack fighting the urge to laugh in her face. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. Only the crazy intensity in her eyes kept his lips from twitching. She meant what she said, and even if she couldn’t hurt him physically, he respected that she wanted to keep her friend from getting hurt.



“Good. I’ll see you at dinner then.” She looked past him at Mr. Giles then left as quickly as she had come.



Jack turned to Mr. Giles and grinned. “That was one of the girls?” he asked. “I see what you mean about colorful.”



“Yes, quite,” said Mr. Giles offering a short, polite smile in return. “I’m surprised she went easy on you.”



“Threatening to rip my arms off was easy?” Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise. Not that he felt very threatened. What more could she do?



“Well, with Dawn’s boyfriends, she brings a knife and threatens to make them eunuchs.” The evil glint was back in Mr. Giles’s eye, which made Jack shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, just to make sure everything was all there.



“So what’s for dinner?” asked Jack to change the subject to healthier matters.



“You if you’re not careful,” Mr. Giles replied, picking up the mugs. “I don’t think Buffy was done with you.”



“Great, just what I need. Another hostile woman drooling over me.” Jack stopped short at the look Mr. Giles leveled at him. He winced. “I did it again, didn’t I?” When would he learn to keep all those random thoughts in is head. Must be the stress.



*************************************************



Xander was waiting for him by the back door. Jack looked a little surprised to see him there offering him a beer, but he took it nonetheless with a gentle smile and followed him outside to the back steps.



“I figured you could use one after being cooped up with Giles,” said Xander, putting his plate on his knees. It was sunset and the evening was cool. It would be dark soon. He looked up and saw Jack watching him with an unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t know what he wanted to talk about, but he felt like the poor guy needed a break from the third degree.



“Thanks,” Jack said without looking away. “Listen, about earlier, I’m sorry for what I said. It was uncalled for.”



The unexpected apology made Xander grin. “Giles scared the living shit out you, didn’t he?”



Jack smiled and let out a chuckle. “Maybe a little. I don’t think he likes me too much.”



“Probably not,” Xander agreed. You could be the First for all we know, he added in his head. But they had shaken hands so Xander knew he wasn’t. He was putting his money on his being a demon though. It would make everything easier if he was.



“So,” Jack said into the silence that followed, as at a loss as Xander for conversation. “Are we just going to sit here and be awkward?” he finally asked.



The question made Xander smile again. “You could go sit with Buffy. I know she’s just dying to meet you.” A grimace etched its way onto Jack’s face.



“We’ve actually already met,” he said. “She seems like a pleasant person – threatened to rip my arms off and everything.” Jack smiled and shook his head. “It was kind of touching actually.”



“Dismemberment?” asked Xander surprised by the comment.



“She loves you enough to threaten me. Mr. Giles too.”



Xander didn’t know what to say to that stark observation. He knew it was true, but usually he was one of the ones dealing out the threats and not on the receiving side, or however it worked.



“Well, tomorrow we’ll find out if you need to make funeral arrangement,” he joked, but Jack only cracked a small smile. Okay, so it wasn’t a great joke but damn it, he was nervous about all this too.



“Xander,” hearing his name for the first time made him look up sharply at the older man, “I meant what I said. I want to get to know you.” Jack looked away searching for words in the darkening sky. “I know I can’t replace your parents,” he finally said. “But I’d like to be your friend.” He turned back and Xander saw the pleading in his eyes that he would never say. “Even if tomorrow doesn’t work out . . . Jessica would have wanted it that way.” And he meant it, Xander saw. He really meant it. Xander didn’t know what to say. “Xander?” Jack was waiting for an answer, hoping, dreading.



“Jack,” he started then stopped. “You’re leaving tomorrow,” Xander continued. “Whether you’re my father or not. You’ll live your life, I’ll live mine.”



“I can visit you,” said Jack looking hurt. He really wanted to do this father-son thing, Xander realized. “You can come visit me.” And he wasn’t going to give it up easily.



“Can we get a dog, too?” asked Xander.



“Yeah, we can get a dog,” said Jack enthusiastically. “Any kind you want.”



“So now it’s bribery,” Xander raised his eyebrows. Jack grinned.



“If that’s what it takes to get me a chance with you.”



“You know, I could use a new car,” suggested Xander, beginning to enjoy this a little.



Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Watch it, junior. I’m not that rich.” Nonetheless, he seemed pleased by the suggestion. They settled into a light conversation about cars until dark fell and Xander insisted that Jack get back to his hotel. He’d ask whoever was on patrol to make sure he got there safely.



As he watched Jack’s rental car pull away down the street he smiled quietly to himself. The dad thing still weirded him out, but maybe being friends would work.



*********************************************







* Bridges 2: Second Time ThroughWow! Thanks for all the support out there! It really means a lot. I’ve never gotten this many reviews for one chapter before. I’ll just warn you now that I wrote the first bit by accident, so we’ll see how updates go.Thanks to DonSample for pointing out Xander’s mother’s name. I went back and fixed that and a few other things in part one.***************************** Second Time Through ************************Xander stared at the closed door, listening as Jack’s car started up and drove off. It all felt so surreal, like he was watching someone else’s life. Because how could this be happening?With a sigh, Xander turned and headed out back to check on the girls in the yard. They were talking and laughing as Vi led them through their stretches, the novelty of their calling not yet worn away. Xander let them be and went inside, back upstairs to his room. His unfinished email to Willow was still on the screen where he had left it. He’d have to rewrite it now, he thought. Add that his parents were dead.Turning away from the computer, he sat instead on his bed, elbows on knees as he gazed at the pictures Jack had given him. He had lost all his pictures when they closed the Hellmouth, not that he’d had many of his parents.Dead. His parents were dead. He felt his eye prick and a tear slide down his cheek. They were gone. It was one thing to look at the carnage from the riots and guess, another to hear the words that cemented it into reality. His mom had been so beautiful. Young, free. She couldn’t have been much older in the picture than Xander was now, but he had never felt as young as she looked. At least not in a long, long time. And she was gone now. Like Anya. And as much as he had sometimes hated his parents, he wanted nothing more than to see them one last time. But he couldn’t. Xander’s head fell into his hands and silent sobs accompanied the pictures falling to the floor.He didn’t know how long he sat there, but after a while he felt someone sit on the bed next to him and an arm snake around his waist. Sighing he sat up and hugged Dawn back, glad of the simple comfort she offered. Neither of them said anything; they didn’t have to.“I’m sorry about your parents,” Dawn said softly after a while.Xander let out a soft, sad huff of air and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Yeah. I never would have thought I’d be crying over them.”“They were still your parents,” Dawn replied. Xander caught the note of longing in her voice. Their dad still hadn’t contacted them. Not like Jack.“And now there’s this guy who says he’s my real dad.” Xander still didn’t know if he believed it or not.“I googled him,” said Dawn. “He’s who he says he is. We’ll have to get Willow to do the deep dark secret search. And a paternity test if you want.”“Yeah,” he absently agreed, thinking back over the man who had flown from Colorado just to see him.For an old guy, Jack was in shape and actually looked pretty good over all. Also not horribly out of fashion, he noted remembering the casual khakis, shirt, and leather jacket he had worn. Xander couldn’t decide if that bothered him or not. Then he wondered why he was focusing on something so entirely irrelevant.“He’s coming back tomorrow,” he told Dawn. “He says he wants to get to know me.”“Is that good?” asked Dawn hesitantly. “I mean, do you really think he’s your dad?”Xander shrugged not wanting to think about it but unable not to. He’d lost his original birth certificate with everything else in Sunnydale. Regardless, having someone else call him son wasn’t really going to change anything. Dad hadn’t really been his dad since high school anyway. “He thinks so. Said I looked like his uncle.”“What did you talk about?”“Nothing really. I asked about his family, he asked if I had a girlfriend.” But she was gone too. “He asked about my eye.” Dawn nodded and silence settled over them again.Xander wondered where this was going to go. He wondered why he had told Jack he could come back. With his current luck he would probably turn out to be another demon trying to get to them through him. His eye found the pictures on the floor. Mom and Jack. Jack and Mom. “Are they really real?” he half-whispered.“Willow’s all-purpose truth spell came up positive.”So maybe not a demon. He hadn’t even gotten to the Colonel thing yet. Those were scabs best left alone for now.“Can I come with you to pick up Buffy and Giles?” asked Dawn, breaking the quiet.“Yeah,” he turned and smiled at her, for real this time. “Thanks. I could use the company.”“Anytime.” And they both knew it was about more than a ride to the airport. Dawn gave him a final squeeze then left to get back to whatever translation she was working on for Giles. Xander stared after her for a minute before going back to the email to Willow who was somewhere on the East Coast. He deleted the last few lines then started a new paragraph.************************************************The next day after overseeing the usual chaos that was cooking for and feeding over thirty slayers and making sure the veterans had the newbies under control, Xander and Dawn headed for the airport with Dawn in the driver’s seat. They hadn’t told Buffy yet that she’d gotten her license, deciding that what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. She’d become better about letting Dawn grow up but still had the tendency to be overprotective. So when she was gone, Xander let Dawn drive. And if she found out he had his lack of depth perception as an excuse.The airport was noisy but not too crowded. They waited in the baggage claim area passing the time by filling in the words to other peoples conversations as they greeted each other. It was nice to just sit and people-watch with Dawn, see how the other side lived. Xander hadn’t done this since working construction.They had been waiting for about twenty minutes when two familiar figures finally came down the escalator. Beside him, Dawn shrieked and bounded over to tackle her sister and Giles, Xander trailing in her wake. Having just come from London, they both looked tired and unkempt, but happy to be back. Giles smiled at him and gave him a hug when he reached them. Dawn was already chattering a mile a minute at Buffy with no sign of stopping, so Xander took his life into his own hands and commandeered the slayer for a hug, which she laughingly returned. Dawn’s commentary on life at the house never stopped.By the time they got their bags and were on the way home Dawn had caught them up since their last phone call four days ago. While the news about Xander’s parents didn’t surprised them, the news about his possible father did. But Dawn, bless her, wouldn’t let them ask questions, saying they could get the details after they got home. She wanted to hear about London while she had them to herself. So they pushed aside talk of Jack in favor of making fun of the Land of Tweed. Even Giles had a thing or two to say about British drivers.As far as work went, the rebuilding of the Council was progressing slowly, but progressing nonetheless. Though Xander got the impression that Buffy had spent most of their time dragging Giles to see the sights. She looked good. She looked like she’d finally had some badly needed rest.Xander smiled as he watched the girls go on in the back seat about all the crazy things Buffy had tried in order to get the guards at Buckingham Palace to quit their statue routine. Beside him, Giles shook his head, silently denying any part in the escapade. Just like normal. It was good to have everyone home.******************************************At precisely four o’clock, Jack rang the doorbell to the nice, old house where Xander lived with a bunch of girls. It was simply too odd to contemplate at the moment, so Jack wisely chose not to as he listened to the stampede heading for the door. This time two brunettes, a blond, and one faded blue met him cheerfully at the door.“Hi,” Jack smiled more sure of himself today.The girls giggled and said, “Hi, Jack,” as they let him in.“XANDER!!!” two of them shouted together, this time toward the back of the house, and once again Jack winced at the noise. He figured it wasn’t often quiet around here.Xander emerged from the back hallway followed by another, much older man. He had gray hair and glasses and wore a blue pullover, managing to look both casual and distinguished at the same time. Jack wondered who he was, maybe a parent dropping off his daughter?“Hey!” another girl shouted from the kitchen. “Buffy says break’s over,” she called to the teenagers who had let him in. With a chorus of disappointed ‘awe’s, the four reluctantly retreated casting wishful looks over their shoulders.“They never give up,” said Xander by way of greeting, watching the girls leave. “Of course I don’t blame ‘em for wanting to avoid Buffy.” He turned back to Jack and the parent who hadn’t left yet. “So Jack, this is Rupert Giles. He’s helping us out for the summer. Giles, Jack O’Neill.”“A pleasure to meet you,” said Mr. Giles in a soft British accent.To say Jack was surprised would have been a gross understatement. This was Giles? Xander’s friend that he was running this place with? He had expected Giles to be some dumb kid, another refugee from Sunnydale with no money and a stupid idea. One old man, one young one and thirty teenage girls did not paint a pretty picture. And he was British! Just what had this guy gotten his son wrapped up in?Hiding his surprise and suspicion with a neutral smile, Jack shook the offered hand. Mr. Giles had a firm handshake that almost hurt, but his mild expression suggested he wasn’t aware of it. “Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”“Uh, coffee would be great,” said Jack, the civil custom bringing him up short and reminding him of his manners. This was Xander’s ‘friend’ after all, good or not, and for once he didn’t want to pick a fight.Xander disappeared into the kitchen to get the drinks while Mr. Giles led Jack into the sitting room. Mr. Giles didn’t say anything to him, instead seeming to prefer to let Jack make the first move. It was all very uncomfortable. Jack wasn’t quite sure what was going on but he wanted to find out. Now.“So how do you know Xander?” he asked as innocuously as possible.Mr. Giles didn’t flinch. “I’ve known him since he was in high school. Yourself?”“I, uh.” Suddenly thrown on the defensive when he knew Mr. Giles was aware of who he was made Jack take a strong dislike to the man. He was being tested and he really didn’t like it. “I’m his father. His biological father anyway. But you knew that.”“I know that’s what you claim,” Mr. Giles met his challenging gaze. “A birth certificate and a picture are hardly concluding evidence.”“Xander seems to think so.”“Does he?” Mr. Giles lifted a skeptical eyebrow. And suddenly Jack wasn’t sure. Yesterday, after Dawn had confirmed the birth certificate they had talked . . . it hadn’t been the most stellar conversation he’d ever had, but he thought they had made progress.“It was in his mother’s will,” said Jack, needing something solid to hold onto. He remembered reading it. “I didn’t find out until they called me about it.”“Again, all we have is your word on that,” Mr. Giles replied. “But I suppose that is neither here nor there at the moment since it can easily be cleared up at the hospital.”“What?”“You know, your DNA, my DNA. Seeing if it’s all happy little DNA,” said Xander joining them with the drinks. “It’s not that we don’t trust you, it’s just that, well . . . we don’t.” He handed Jack a Snoopy mug. “Milk or sugar?”Jack shook his head, sighed and pushed the hurt away. To be honest he had anticipated doing a paternity test sometime. He just didn’t know if he could handle it if it came out negative. He watched as Xander handed Mr. Giles a Kiss the Librarian mug and settled beside him on the couch with his own that said ‘We heart Snow’.His son, because he knew he was, looked better today, more relaxed than yesterday to be sure. And he looked comfortable sitting next to Mr. Giles, which rankled Jack a bit because it wasn’t him. Who was this guy anyway? And what was he doing here? How did he know Xander? Yesterday’s challenge of impressing the friends wasn’t so fun anymore when confronted with this man.“So when do you want to do the test?” he asked. “I’ve got to get back tomorrow.”“I already set up an appointment at the clinic in town in the morning,” said Xander. “And it wasn’t easy getting a spot on such short notice.”“Oh.” Jack wasn’t sure what to say to that. “That’s good.” And awfully fast. Jack tried not to think about what would happen if it came back negative. He’d been dreaming of this meeting for six months. Of course the reality of it was far from anything he had expected, but at least there was still hope.“So,” said Mr. Giles. “You work at NORAD, Colonel?”Jack glanced up sharply at the man, wondering just why he asked that. He’d never said anything about where he worked yesterday. And he didn’t like that look of mild curiosity either. “And you teach teenaged girls . . . self defense?” he shot back, letting him know exactly what he thought of the situation.To his surprise, Mr. Giles actually blushed. “Yes, actually,” he sputtered. “It’s not what you’re implying.”“I wasn’t implying anything,” Jack denied, happy he’d finally scored a hit. “Just wondering what you’ve got my son doing here.”“Hey! Why should you care?” Xander snapped. “You don’t live here. And even if you are my biological father, so what? You haven’t been a part of my life. You don’t know the first thing about us.”“I wasn’t there because I didn’t know about you. I’m here now,” said Jack a little too desperately. This wasn’t happening, was it? “I want to get to know you. Why do you think I came here?”“I don’t know!” Xander suddenly shouted back. “You just showed up, all ‘Luke I am your father’ and you’re not like him and I don’t even know you.”“Xander,” Mr. Giles put a calming hand on the young man’s shoulder while Jack looked on in shock. Did that even make sense? “Xander, why don’t you go check on Andrew in the kitchen,” said Mr. Giles.Xander ignored him. “What, you tell me my parents are dead and expect to take their place protecting me? I’m not a kid.”“I’m not expecting anything!” Jack yelled back, feeling like he’d been kicked in the teeth. He’s was going to lose him! The thought seared through his mind like fire, burning so deep it was all he could think of.“Xander,” Mr. Giles repeated sharply.“Yeah. Fine, whatever.” Without sparing a glance for Jack, his son stormed out of the room leaving Jack with the older man. Mildness replaced by ruthless hostility.Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. Shit. This wasn’t going right. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said not quite sure what had just happened. “Whatever I said – ”“I daresay you called me a pervert,” Mr. Giles interrupted coldly.Jack bristled. “I – ”“I don’t want to hear it,” Mr. Giles cut him off again. “You want to make sure he’s all right, I can see that. You can say anything you want to about me; I honestly don’t care, but I highly doubt that insulting his friends will garner you his good will, however well intentioned.”“I’m sorry,” Jack repeated with a sigh. “I’ll admit I’m probably jumping to conclusions, but frankly I don’t like you,” he bit out. “Whatever you’re doing here doesn’t look good from where I’m sitting. I know it’s a little late, but I just want what’s best for him.”“As do I Colonel O’Neill,” said Mr. Giles. “Even if that means getting rid of you.”Jack caught his breath. He must have heard wrong. “Did you just threaten me?” he asked, eyebrows lifted at the audacity. Mr. Giles continued to calmly stare him down.“I’ll leave the threats to the girls. They have a much more colorful way of putting things,” said Mr. Giles, and Jack knew he wasn’t talking about the girls he’d met yesterday. “But let me make one thing perfectly clear: neither your rank nor your government will be able to protect you from me if you have one ill thought toward Xander.” Now Jack was used to being threatened, in fact he often felt that in his old age he was getting rather immune to it. But at the moment he got the feeling that he was treading on very thin ice. Mr. Giles’s tone was clear, crisp, and deadly, his accent only chilling Jack more as eyes full of mortal promise bored into him.Whatever he had thought before about Mr. Giles being mild mannered when right out the window. “You have my word,” Jack murmured seriously.“Good.” And like that, the spell was broken so quickly Jack wondered if it had really happened. “Then you can stay for supper.” Mr. Giles smiled at him with only a hint of his earlier menace and took a sip of his tea. “So, Colonel, how do you like Cleveland?”Jack tried to smile back and hoped he would make it out of this conversation intact.*************************************************The constant sound of knife against cutting board pounded like the blood through Xander’s head. He could feel Andrew watching him from across the island counter and wished he could say something reassuring but he didn’t know what. Hell, he couldn’t even sort out why he was mad. Yesterday Jack had been okay and today he and Giles were at each other’s throats.Xander cleared the chopped carrots into the waiting pot and grabbed another handful. Something about Jack scared him. He was so . . . certain about being his dad. And he cared. And Xander didn’t know how to handle that, not from some stranger he met yesterday who was fifty years old and in the damn army.But there was a niggling voice in the back of mind whispering “what if . . .” What if Mom had told Jack? What if he stuck around like he said he would have? As a kid in middle school, when things had really started to go downhill in the Harris household, Xander had sometimes imagined having different parents. Parents who didn’t drink, didn’t yell at him, and didn’t make him want to sleep outside on Christmas Eve.Xander dumped the carrots in with the others, grabbing the last handful, but his hands were shaking so badly now, he cut his finger, red blood spilling over and clashing with the orange to make a nice vampire rabbit snack. His blood, Jack’s blood. They’d find out tomorrow. They still didn’t know for sure. Would Jack still care even if he wasn’t his father?Taking the carrots with him to the sink, Xander ran cold water over the wound and ignored Andrew’s fussing as the blood washed away. It didn’t matter. Blood didn’t make you family, it only gave you a place to start. And Xander had a family. He didn’t need someone who didn’t know the first thing about him or Giles or anyone to come in making assumptions. Tomorrow they’d know for sure, then Jack would go back to his army and life would get back to normal on the Cleveland Hellmouth. Maybe he’d get a Christmas card like Buffy used to get from her dad. Whatever. It didn’t matter.***************************************************Jack was impressed that he and Mr. Giles had managed to find safe ground in seventies music. Granted it had taken Cleveland’s weather, England’s weather, Colorado’s weather, and an aborted attempt at sports to get there, but they did manage to have a civilized conversation without mentioning Xander or what anyone actually did for a living. Nevertheless, Jack was relieved when the sitting room door opened and put an end to the conversation.Unsurprisingly, it was a girl, a blonde this time and fairly short. She was wearing a tank top and sweat pants, obviously just having come in from a workout session.“Hey, Giles,” she practically bubbled though her eyes never left Jack as both he and Mr. Giles stood. “This him?” she asked, giving him a professional once over.“Uh, yes. Colonel, may I introduce Buffy Summers, one of our instructors here. Buffy, Jack O’Neill.”“Ms. Summers,” Jack used his best smile for Xander’s other friend. By the way she was eyeing him this must be one of the girls Mr. Giles had mentioned. She took his offered hand with a firm grasp, leaving a sheen of sweat behind.“So you’re the dad, huh?” She didn’t seem too impressed.“That would be me,” Jack affirmed.“So if this pans out, you planning on becoming a fixture or is this a nice-to-meet-ya-I’m-going-off-to-Spain-with-my-secretary kinda deal?”“Uh . . .” Unsure just what she had asked, Jack suddenly wished Daniel were there to translate.“Well?” Her sharp gaze just sharpened even more while he stood there like an idiot.“What Buffy is asking is if you plan on being a part of Xander’s life if you are indeed his father,” Mr. Giles helped him out, though Jack swore that the two questions didn’t share a word.“What he said,” reiterated Buffy impatiently.Feeling like he was caught between a rock and a hard place with one in front of him and one behind, Jack nodded. “Yeah. If he’ll let me.”“Good,” said Buffy taking a step closer and staring into his eyes. “Because if you back out I’ll rip off your arms, shove one down your throat and the other up your ass so you can twiddle you thumbs in your stomach. Do I make myself clear?”“Uh, yeah,” said Jack fighting the urge to laugh in her face. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. Only the crazy intensity in her eyes kept his lips from twitching. She meant what she said, and even if she couldn’t hurt him physically, he respected that she wanted to keep her friend from getting hurt.“Good. I’ll see you at dinner then.” She looked past him at Mr. Giles then left as quickly as she had come.Jack turned to Mr. Giles and grinned. “That was one of the girls?” he asked. “I see what you mean about colorful.”“Yes, quite,” said Mr. Giles offering a short, polite smile in return. “I’m surprised she went easy on you.”“Threatening to rip my arms off was easy?” Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise. Not that he felt very threatened. What more could she do?“Well, with Dawn’s boyfriends, she brings a knife and threatens to make them eunuchs.” The evil glint was back in Mr. Giles’s eye, which made Jack shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, just to make sure everything was all there.“So what’s for dinner?” asked Jack to change the subject to healthier matters.“You if you’re not careful,” Mr. Giles replied, picking up the mugs. “I don’t think Buffy was done with you.”“Great, just what I need. Another hostile woman drooling over me.” Jack stopped short at the look Mr. Giles leveled at him. He winced. “I did it again, didn’t I?” When would he learn to keep all those random thoughts in is head. Must be the stress.*************************************************Xander was waiting for him by the back door. Jack looked a little surprised to see him there offering him a beer, but he took it nonetheless with a gentle smile and followed him outside to the back steps.“I figured you could use one after being cooped up with Giles