Title: The Ties That Bind
Author: Brittany Stevens
Email: DoyleCordy_99@buffymail.com, mlhockeygrrl@usa.net
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss's. Grr, arghh, people's. Any questions?
Archivist's Note: Hero never happened. Nope. This one's for all the C/D
we didn't get.
Distribution: Anyone who wants it, just let me know where it's going.



                                 Chapter 1

“I should probably tell her soon, shouldna I?” Doyle sighed. He ran a 
hand through his thick dark hair and looked to the man sitting at the 
desk in front of him. The man gave no indication that he’d even heard 
Doyle. “Shouldna I?” Doyle repeated. The man finally looked up.

“Shouldn’t you what?” Angel asked, puzzled.

“Tell Cordelia.”

“Tell Cordelia what?” Angel stared at Doyle, completely not 
comprehending the young man’s meaning.

“Tell Cordelia that me father was a demon,” Doyle explained, 
exasperated. “That *I’m* half demon.”

“Well, you should have told her before you asked her to marry you,” 
Angel smirked, “but it’s a little late for that.”

Doyle glared at Angel. “Well, I’m not always known fer the smart things 
I do,” he retorted. “Except confess ta Cordy that I love her. That was
probably the one exception ta the rule.”

“Yeah, who knew that she’d care about you in return?” Angel chuckled.

Doyle looked hurt. “Ye think there’s no reason fer Cordy ta love me? 
That I shouldna be happy?”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Doyle, you’re too sensitive. I just meant that 
this is Cordy. Cordy has typically never cared about anyone but 
herself.”

At that, Doyle became angry. “Now don’t go insultin’ Cordelia,” he
commanded, his eyes flashing. “She couldna help that she was raised ta
think only of herself. It was somethin’ she learned from the moment she
learned ta talk. She’s done se well ta overcome that. She’s improvin’
everaday.”

Angel held up his hands in mock-defense. “I know, Doyle, I know. How
about from now on I keep my mouth shut?” he offered with an 
uncharacteristic grin. “Then you can’t find fault with the way I talk 
about you *or* her.”

“But then who would I go ta fer advice?” Doyle asked plaintively.

“Doyle, you should have stopped coming to me for advice a long time 
ago,” Angel replied. “I mean, you asked her to marry you, and she said 
yes. It’s not like you have to get her attention or impress her 
anymore.”

“Wit a girl like Cordelia, ye *always* have ta impress,” Doyle said. He
sighed. “I just can’t help thinkin’ that me luck is goin’ ta run out one 
of these days. That I don’t really deserve her an’ someday, someone’s 
goin’ ta take her away from me.”

“Move up the wedding,” Angel suggested. “Marry her quicker. Then she 
can’t run.”

“If only I could,” Doyle smirked. He sat back in the chair. “Her mother 
is insistin’ on a big social weddin’, an’ that means months of plannin’. 
The new hubby’s goin’ ta pay fer it all, so Cordelia and her mother are 
goin’ all out fer it. Flowers comin’ out of fountains an’ swans swimmin’ 
around in the big portable pond they’re settin’ up, an’ ever’ person the 
Chase’s an’ Wyndham-Price’s ever met.”

“Yes, I’m sure Wesley is eager to make sure everyone knows his 
stepdaughter is getting married,” Angel chuckled. “Just so that they’re 
all aware that there’s nothing between them anymore.”

Doyle laughed along with Angel as he recalled Cordelia’s shock when 
Wesley arrived in L.A. His main mission had been to let Cordelia know 
that he had fallen in love with her mother and they were planning to get 
married as soon as the divorce between her parents was final. He 
remembered Cordelia’s humiliation when she’d run into his arms and 
blurted out that she and Wesley had once been attracted to each other. 
“I don’t think Cordelia would ever let ennaone believe that she an’ 
Wesley still had a thing fer each other. She was so embarrassed when she 
described their one an’ only kiss, an’ how disgustin’ it was, that if 
ennaone ever believed they were together, she’d personally stamp the 
truth inta their little brains.”

“Who has a little brain?” Cordelia asked cheerfully, sweeping into the
office. She sat down on Doyle’s lap and gave him her sweetest smile.
“Besides you, of course.”

Angel smothered a laugh and Doyle frowned at them both. “Now, now,
Cordelia, I thought we agreed that ye’d not be insultin’ me until 
*after* the weddin’,” he protested.

“You mean until after the wedding *night,*” Cordy teased.

“Ye haven’t had enna complaints so far,” Doyle returned easily, knowing
full well that his fiancée didn’t mean a word of what she said.

“Yeah, but I’ve heard that married men tend to get lazy. You better not, 
or I’ll have Dennis freeze your feet at night,” she threatened.

“Ye’re not invitin’ the ghost ta live wit us,” Doyle stated firmly.

“What are you talking about?” Cordelia asked incredulously. “*You’re*
moving in with *us.* I’m not kicking Dennis out just because I’m gaining
another roommate. That was his home long before either of us were born. 
He stays.”

“Cordelia,” Doyle groaned. She glared. “All right, all right, but he 
stays *out* of our room,” he caved. Cordelia smiled cheerily.

“So, what’s going on at Angel Investigations?” she asked. “Anyone 
hopeless need helping? Any big bad evil popping up to scare us?”

“Just yer mother,” Doyle muttered under his breath. Cordelia maintained 
her sunny smile as she brought her palm up and smacked Doyle across the 
back of the head. “Ow!” he complained.

“Make another crack about my mother, and I’ll crack something of yours 
that you cherish dearly,” she said sweetly. Doyle and Angel 
simultaneously grimaced and shifted their legs. “Speaking of Mother, she 
wanted me to take you to the groom’s shop today. Something about getting 
your jacket sized.”

“Cordelia,” Doyle groaned. “The weddin’ is months away. What if I were 
ta get all fat between now an’ then? Fittin’s would be a waste right 
now.”

“Eww! You better *not* get fat, or this wedding will be off quicker than
you can say ‘Jenny Craig,’ ” Cordelia exclaimed.

“But don’t ye love me no matter what I look like?” Doyle asked, gazing 
into her eyes.

“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. “But I will so *not* have sex with you 
if you’re rolling more than the Stones. So you don’t want to get fat 
anyway.”

Angel stood up and their attention was diverted away from each other.
“Doyle, I’m going to go do some preliminary work on that case Kate asked
about, so you’re free to go get your jacket fitted.”

Doyle pleaded with his eyes, but Angel pretended not to notice as he 
turned away. Cordelia stood up, pulling Doyle with her, and he sighed. 
“We’re eatin’ at Jake’s when we get done with the fittin’,” he stated 
stubbornly.

“No we’re not. We’re meeting Mother and Wesley at Chez Luc,” she 
corrected him as they left Angel’s apartment.

“Okay,” Doyle agreed with another sigh, realizing that there was no use 
in arguing. Walking along hand-in-hand with Cordelia, he wondered if 
their entire marriage would be based on him obeying her commands. 
Shrugging, he decided it really didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to give 
her up for any reason.

                                 Chapter 2

“Cordelia, yer mother is a wee bit intense, don’t ye think?” Doyle asked 
as he and Cordelia entered the office.

“That’s just Mother,” Cordelia said, waving her hand dismissively as she
set her shopping bags down on the desk. “You’ll get used to her. 
Actually, she’s mellowed a little since she married Wesley. You should 
be grateful you didn’t meet her when she was married to Daddy.”

Doyle shuddered. “Not that I don’t care fer yer family, Cordy, but no
wonder yer father divorced the woman! If she was worse then than she is
now, I’d hate ta have ta meet her at all!”

Cordelia frowned at Doyle. “She divorced Daddy, when he lost all his 
money. Daddy didn’t divorce her. He thought the moon rose and set on 
her.”

“Well, at least I can be assured that ye’re not like yer mother,” Doyle
chuckled. “If ye were ennathin’ like her, all money grubbin’ an’ such, 
ye wouldna be marryin’ me.”

“That’s for sure,” Cordelia sniffed, glaring at Doyle. “Considering you
don’t have two pennies to rub together. Or is that shillings, where you
come from?” she sniped.

Doyle rolled his eyes and chose to ignore Cordelia’s comment. He turned
instead to the bags, picking them up and heading for the closet. No 
sooner were his hands full than the phone rang. “Cordelia, honey, would 
ye. . .” He trailed off as he realized that Cordy already had phone in 
hand.

“Angel Investigations,” she answered cheerily. Her brow furrowed for an
instant as she listened to the voice on the other end, then smoothed 
again as she smiled radiantly. “Xander! Oh my God, it’s been ages! How 
are you?” Doyle tried to listen without looking like he was listening. 
“Yeah, you know Angel, always busy working. Doyle? Hardly. Doyle’s busy 
*not* working at the moment. What’s up with you talking about work? As 
far as I know you’ve never done any. Why the sudden interest?” She 
rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, *another* case for us?” she complained. She 
perked up an instant later. “You’re willing to pay? Where’d you get 
money? All right, Angel’s going to call us when he and Kate are done 
with their research, so I’ll let him know and then call you back. All 
right. Yeah, Xander, it was good to hear from you. Especially when 
you’re going to pay us. Yeah. Later.” Cordelia hung up the phone and 
turned back to Doyle, who had given up all pretense of not eavesdropping 
when the agency and money had been mentioned.

“I take it that was yer ex honey?” he asked casually.

“Yeah, good old Xander Harris. Apparently he’s got a case for us. No 
demons or anything, not that I know of. It’s about time. We’ve been 
spending way too much time thinking about demons and slime and all that 
yuck.” Doyle winced. “I guess he just wants us to find somebody for him. 
He’s going to tell us all the details when Angel gets back.”

“Who’s going to tell us details about what?” Angel asked as he strolled
into the office.

“Xander. Apparently he’s going to pay us a lot of money if we’ll find 
this guy for him,” Cordelia explained happily.

“Find someone? That doesn’t sound like our line of work,” Angel objected
with a frown. “We help the hopeless. We aren’t a missing persons 
bureau.”

“I guess Xander thinks it’s really important to find this guy. Something
about family history,” Cordelia shrugged. “He’s going to tell us what’s 
up when we’re all together. Speaking of, I better call him back.” She 
had the receiver in her hand and her perfectly manicured fingernails 
were delicately pressing buttons before either male could say a word. 
“Xand? Cordy. Angel’s back. When can you get here? Ten minutes? Oh, 
you’re staying in the city. Okay. See you.” She hung up the phone. “He’s 
staying at some hotel over on Baker. He’ll be here in ten.”

“So we’re going to help him?” Doyle asked warily.

“Of course!” Cordelia replied indignantly. “He’s a friend. And he has 
money he wants to spend. Why shouldn’t he spend it here, with his 
friends, instead of some sleazebag P.I.?”

“We’re not exactly his friends, Cordelia,” Angel pointed out wryly. “He
hates me, you broke up with him, and he hasn’t even met Doyle yet.”

“Money!” Cordelia insisted staunchly. She folded her arms over her chest
and glared at both men, challenging them to defy her. Neither did. 
Minutes later, they heard pounding footsteps outside the office door. 
Cordelia ran to it and threw it open, sunshine streaming into the room.

“Cordelia!” Angel howled as he jumped out of the path of the sun’s rays.

“Oops. My bad,” she said sweetly. She turned back to the open door and
gestured for Xander to come inside. “Before I cremate my boss,” she 
added with a grin. Xander grinned in return and entered the office, 
glancing around.

“Wow. Oz said the place lacked homeyness, but he wasn’t kidding!” Xander
exclaimed.

“Look who owns it,” Cordelia threw at him with a grimace. “Mr. ‘King of
Colorless’ over here doesn’t know much about interior decorating. Unless
you count the chains down in the apartment. I shudder to ask what those 
are for.” She smiled at Angel as he turned a dark crimson color. “So, 
what’s the what, to steal your phrase?” she asked, leading him to the 
chair in front of her desk.

“Well, I have to find someone,” Xander started uncertainly. Cordelia 
blew her breath out impatiently.

“Duh, got that. Who do you need us to find?”

“My brother.”

Cordelia and Angel stared at him in confusion. “Huh? Brother? Missing 
much? I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Neither did I, until yesterday,” Xander said slowly. “My mom finally
decided it was time I understood my father. I’m not sure why. But she 
told me that there’s a part of my father that nobody ever knew about, a 
part of him that keeps him closed off from everybody. I also found out 
that he had a whole other family, before he got together with Mom and 
they had me. He was with this other woman. I don’t think he ever married 
her, but they had a son. Then he found out about his. . . heritage, for 
lack of a better word, and he left the two of them.”

“So you want us to find him so you can learn more about your dad’s early
life,” Angel guessed. Xander nodded.

“I want to find out more about what happened with my dad, who he was.” 
At Cordelia’s confused stare, he added, “Dad died last week. It wasn’t 
much of a shock. He was sick, and he was mean, which made it worse. I 
can’t say I’m really sad. He was never much of a father to me. I just 
want to learn about this new facet of my family, because I guess it’s 
going to affect me in a few years.” He took a deep breath. “You see, my 
mom told me something about my dad that kind of rocked my world, 
although that’s an understatement. Little did I know that the whole time 
I was fighting vampires and demons, I was living under the same roof as 
one.” He took another deep breath and dropped the bombshell. “My father 
was a demon.”

                                 Chapter 3

“A demon?” Cordelia squeaked. Her face was white. “I can’t believe it!
Your father was a demon!”

“Yeah. Kind of explained his nasty attitude,” Xander joked. “So I guess
that means I’m half demon. And I’d kind of like to find this brother and
learn more about our family. I was never really interested in genealogy,
but I’d like to know who and what I am.”

“Do you have anything, any information, that could help us find this 
guy?” Angel interjected thoughtfully. He glanced at Doyle, who seemed to 
be taking the news in stride.

“He’s twenty-seven years old and he’s got the same dark hair that I 
have, only he has Dad’s eyes. Really light, sometimes green, sometimes 
blue. I know he lives in Los Angeles. I also have the name of the type 
of demon, but I can’t remember it right now. I’ll have to call you when 
I get back to the hotel, I have it written down somewhere there,” Xander 
explained. “I know it’s not much, since there are a thousand dark-
haired, light-eyed twenty-somethings in Los Angeles, but that’s all I 
have.”

“Actually, that’s plenty. I have a few guys in mind I could talk to. 
I’ll let you know how things turn out.” Angel stood up and Xander did so 
as well, followed by Doyle and Cordelia. “Cordy has your number, so I’ll 
get back to you, okay?”

Xander nodded. “That’s fine. I’d just like to know what to expect.
Apparently the demon doesn’t show itself until you’re twenty-one, so I
would never have known. At least this isn’t going to come as so much of 
a shock.”

Angel glanced again at Doyle, who thus far had shown no reaction to
anything Xander had said. “Cordy, why don’t you and Xander go out and 
have lunch? Catch up, and all that. You can bill it to me.”

Cordelia was never one to turn down anything free. “Absolutely. I know 
this great little seafood place,” she told Xander as she hooked her arm 
through his and led him out the door.

When they’d left, Doyle turned on Angel. “What was that fer?” he 
demanded angrily. “Sendin’ me fiancée off with that loser what broke her 
heart in the first place.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Angel replied calmly.

“About what? I’m not goin’ ta help find the kid’s old brother,” Doyle 
said irritably. “If ye’re se determined that he should find ‘is family, 
ye can find the man yerself.”

“It never occurred to you that we don’t have to look very hard to find 
this guy?” Angel asked calmly, refusing to let Doyle’s obvious bad humor 
anger him.

“What do ye mean?” he asked.

“Nothing about what Xander said sounded familiar?” Angel prodded. 
“Nothing at all?”

“No. Why should it?”

“Dad was a demon, had another woman and son, the other son is twenty-
seven and has dark hair, light eyes, and is half-demon as well? The 
demon shows itself at age twenty-one? Come on, Doyle, tell me you don’t 
recognize the signs,” Angel chuckled.

Doyle shook his head, understanding dawning. “Ye don’t mean ta say. . .”

“I think you’re Xander’s brother,” Angel said simply.

Doyle made a disgusted face. “No way. It’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous?” Angel argued. “Everything fits. The age, the 
physical description. Everything. If Xander comes back and tells us that 
he’s a Brachen demon, I’ll be one hundred percent convinced.”

“Ye’re not serious,” Doyle moaned, dropping his head into his hands.

“I’m completely serious,” Angel countered.

“Ye know what this means,” Doyle sighed.

“What’s that?” Angel asked.

“If ye’re right, an’ this Xander kid is really me brother, then I won’t
have any choice but ta tell Cordelia ‘bout the demon thing. And she’s 
goin’ ta be pissed.”

                                 Chapter 4

“So, Cordy, ye have a fun day t’day?” Doyle asked when Cordelia returned 
to her apartment three hours later.

“Totally. I haven’t talked to Xander in absolute ages!” Cordelia gushed
happily. “It’s funny. I never thought I would forgive him for cheating 
on me with Willow, but I so enjoyed seeing him. I mean, we’ve been cool 
with each other for a long time, but we never actually got together and 
tested it.”

“Se ye’re okay wit the whole demon thing,” Doyle pressed.

“Absolutely. I mean, aside from the whole ick factor, it hasn’t changed 
who he is. It was just strange. Xander was always the pseudo normal one 
in our group,” Cordy mused thoughtfully. “There was Buffy, Miss 
Supergirl herself, and Angel, our resident vampire, of course, and we 
had Oz the werewolf and Willow the witch, in more ways than one, and 
Anya, the reformed demon, and Giles, Mr. Watcher Person. And me, of 
course, with my beauty and wit and charm. But Xander, he was the only 
one who didn’t have anything really to contribute to the group. He just 
idolized Buffy, tormented Angel, and annoyed the hell out of Giles. Now 
he’s, like, one of them. We never actually met a demon we didn’t fight. 
Except Anya, of course, but she technically lost her demonality, or 
whatever you’d call it. So it’s weird, knowing Xander is like, this, 
half-demon person. But I’m cool with it, ‘cause he’s still Xander,” she 
rambled. Doyle sat back and watched her.

“I’m always amazed at how ye take things in stride,” he observed
cautiously. “Ye never let ennathin’ really surprise ye. Ye just get over 
it an’ move on.”

“When you live in Sunnydale, things stop surprising you early on,” 
Cordelia explained with a shrug. She dropped down on the couch that 
Doyle was sprawled on and nestled her head against his chest. “After the 
second or third time a body shows up with teeth marks in its neck, you 
stop caring. After the second or third time you get kidnapped and become 
an attempted sacrifice to something really icky, you know that the world 
is weird. After that, nothing really surprises you.”

“What would ye do if ye learned somethin’ ‘bout someone ye loved that
changed the way ye saw them?” Doyle pressed. “What if that person lied 
ta ye ‘bout it?”

“I’d so kill anyone who lied to me,” Cordelia spouted angrily. She sat 
up, brushing her hair back from her face. “I can take just about 
anything, but I don’t like it when I’m lied to. Lying always sets you up 
for bad surprises.”

“I thought ye just said nothin’ surprises ye ennamore,” Doyle objected
weakly.

“I’m talking about normal, everyday surprises that you just don’t 
expect,” Cordelia said. “Like when I found out Xander was cheating on me 
with Willow. Cheating is a normal thing, it’s not supernatural or 
anything. So when I found out, I was surprised. And pissed. Very 
pissed.”

“But what if it’s a lie ‘bout somethin’ supernatural?” Doyle continued.
“Somethin’ ta protect ye an’ not just ta hide the truth from ye?”

“What are you getting at, Doyle?” Cordelia asked, in a rare burst of
insight. “You’re pushing the issue. Why?”

“Because in our line o’ work, ye get lied ta a lot,” Doyle covered
smoothly. “Demons an’ such aren’t always forthcomin’ wit the truth.”

“What else can you expect from demons?” Cordelia shrugged. “Besides, it
isn’t such a big deal unless the person lying to me is someone I care
about. Of course, if someone else lies to me about something important 
that concerns me, then of course I’m going to go into a full-on evil 
possession thing. I just don’t like being lied to, period.”

“Cordy, why are ye se down on demons?” Doyle asked pensively. He wrapped
his arm around her shoulders as she snuggled down against him once more.
“Surely ye’ve met one or two what didn’t disgust ye?”

“One or two,” she admitted reluctantly. “But not on a general basis. 
It’s rare that I find a demon I like.”

“We-they’re not so bad, once you get to know them. Most of them, 
anyway,” Doyle hurriedly said, hoping to cover his near blunder at 
including himself among the demon race.

“Doyle, do we really have to spend the rest of the night discussing
demons?” Cordelia whined plaintively. She slid her hand to his waist. “I
can think of other things I’d rather be doing than talking about
non-humans.”

Doyle sighed. He knew that the confrontation couldn’t be put off much
longer, but for the time being, he liked the direction Cordelia’s 
thoughts were taking, rather than his own. He bent his head and kissed 
her deeply, ignoring the voice that told him it would be smarter to tell 
her the truth than to give in to his primal urges. For tonight, at 
least, he was going to continue to listen to the instinctual part of 
himself. He stood up, drawing her into his arms and carrying her to the 
bedroom. “Me too, Cordy me love, me too.”

                                 Chapter 5

Early the next morning, the phone in Cordelia and Doyle’s bedroom rang.
Doyle, who was just coming out of a really nice dream, grabbed it 
quickly before Cordelia could wake up. “I need you guys to come in now,” 
Angel said tersely. Doyle groaned.

“Can’t we get another hour?” he begged. Looking at the clock, he
complained, “My God, man, it’s only eight in the mornin’. We’re not even 
in at nine, usually. What’s the hurry this mornin’?”

“Xander’s here.”

“Oh, ye’ll be wantin’ ta find out if I’m the kid’s brother,” Doyle
realized. Eyes widening, he turned to Cordelia, hoping that she had not
heard him. He sighed in relief as he saw her eyes were closed and her
breathing was deep. Lovingly pushing a tumbled curl off of her forehead, 
he turned his attention back to the conversation.

“Yeah, I was hoping that we could maybe straighten this out. The sooner 
we figure out who Xander’s brother is, the sooner we can go back to our
regular routine,” Angel admitted.

“Yeah, an’ the sooner I have ta tell Cordelia what I am,” Doyle 
grumbled. Sighing in resignation, he flipped the bedspread off his torso 
and swung his legs to the floor. “I’ll be there in ‘bout twenty minutes 
or so, okay, Chief?”

“That’s fine,” Angel said, his mind already jumping ahead to how they 
would figure out if Doyle and Xander were brothers. “On second thought, 
I don’t want Cordelia here today. Tell her she has the day off.”

“She’ll be thrilled,” Doyle said. He started pulling on a clean pair of
jeans, finding it difficult to pull them up around his waist one-handed.
“Angel, man, it’s hard to dress an’ talk at the same time, se I’m goin’ 
ta let ye go. I’ll talk ta ye when I get ta the office.”

“All right. Get here quick,” Angel instructed, then hung up without 
waiting for a response. Doyle tossed the phone down on the bed and 
walked quickly over to the dresser. He pulled out a pair of socks and a 
gray T-shirt, then hopped back over to the bed while he tried to put the 
socks on. He didn’t see one of the glossy magazines Cordelia had thrown 
on the floor, and landed with a thud when he skidded on it and lost his 
balance.

“Doyle, what is going on?” Cordelia asked grumpily, turning over and
staring at him. A slight smile came unbidden to her face when she saw 
him sprawled out on the floor, clad in his jeans and a single sock.

“Just me, breakin’ a few bones,” Doyle moaned as he sat up, rubbing the
back of his head. “I suppose it might not occur ta ye that I might 
benefit from some lovin’ care there, would it now?”

“Not at eight in the morning,” she laughed, turning back over and 
burying her head in the pillow. Doyle glared at her as he pulled himself 
to his feet.

“I’m goin’ ta the office now,” he said sourly, pulling on the second 
sock and then yanking the shirt over his dark head.

“I’ll see you in a couple hours, then,” she mumbled from the recesses of
the pillow.

“Actually, Angel said ye can have the day off,” Doyle told her, secretly
relieved that she would not be there for the unveiling of Xander’s 
brother, whom he grudgingly admitted sounded an awful lot like himself. 
He headed for the bathroom and picked up his toothbrush, waiting for 
Cordelia’s expression of joy.

“It’s about time!” Cordelia exclaimed. “I’m going shopping with Mother,
then,” she informed him. “She wants to look at bridesmaid dresses.”

“I still canna believe ye’re asking Kate ta be yer maid of honor,” Doyle
said, shaking his head.

“She’s safer than Buffy,” Cordelia reasoned. “There’s the attraction
between Angel and Kate, but it won’t go anywhere because Kate won’t let 
the working relationship turn into an extracurricular one, and Angel 
knows they can never be together so he won’t get close to her. Buffy, on 
the other hand, presents a myriad of problems.”

“Good thinkin’. But ye’re asking Buffy and that Willow girl ta be in it, 
se won’t that be a problem?” Doyle asked, coming out of the bathroom, 
slipping on his watch and grabbing his wallet.

“They won’t have to be near each other, not really,” Cordelia explained.
“You know the pairing up of the wedding party-best man with maid of 
honor. If Kate is the maid of honor and not Buffy, then they won’t have 
to walk together. They both know that it won’t work between them, so 
they can just avoid each other.”

“Well, if it makes sense ta ye, then I won’t question ye ennamore,” 
Doyle promised, leaning over to kiss Cordelia on the forehead. He had 
learned long ago that if he tried to give her a real kiss, she’d holler 
something about morning breath. “I’m goin’ now, Princess. I’ll call ye 
sometime this afternoon, all right?”

“Won’t be here,” she reminded him. “I’ll call you at work and give you 
the number to Mother’s cell phone. She smiled radiantly up at him and he 
smiled back softly, thinking how much he loved her and how beautiful she 
was, even rumpled and half-asleep. “I love you, Allen Francis Doyle,” 
she said, as a way of good-bye.

“I love ye too, Cordelia Chase,” he said, tucking the covers back around
her, letting her fall back asleep. He moved quietly through the 
apartment and then out the front door. Doyle waited on the corner for 
the light to change, then walked quickly across the street and over two 
blocks. Looking up at the nondescript building that housed Angel 
Investigations, he took a deep breath and climbed the front stairs, 
determined that whatever they found out, he would not let anything 
separate him from Cordelia.

                                 Chapter 6

“So, Angel,” Xander began uncomfortably. He looked at the vampire and
smiled weakly. “Thanks for doing this for me.”

“No problem. I consider it a favor for an old friend, and anyway, 
Cordelia was pretty insistent that we take the case,” Angel admitted 
ruefully. Xander’s weak smile turned to a real one.

“Cordelia always had a convincing way about her, didn’t she?” he 
laughed. “If she wanted something, she got it. Which meant she was 
always pretty irritated that she couldn’t get rid of her feelings for 
me.”

Doyle chose that moment to walk in the door, and he glared at the young
man. “Mornin’,” he greeted Angel. He moved over to the coffee pot and
poured himself a cup of coffee that, he was surprised to note, didn’t 
ooze out of the pot.

“Doyle, glad you’re here.” Angel stood up. “I don’t think introductions
were made yesterday. Xander, this is Doyle, my friend and Cordelia’s
fiancé. Doyle, this is Xander Harris. He’s one of the group that helps
Buffy.”

Doyle lifted his chin to acknowledge the introduction, and Xander nodded
back. “So, how are we goin’ ta go ‘bout this?” Doyle asked briskly, 
sitting down in his usual chair and taking a swallow of the coffee. His 
eyes widened. “Angel, man, how come ye let Cordelia make the coffee 
ever’ mornin’ when ye can make it se much better?”

Xander and Angel chuckled. “It makes her feel useful,” Angel explained 
with an uncharacteristic grin. “Besides, the sludge she makes keeps me 
awake all day.”

“Fine then,” Doyle grumbled, “ye can let her make the coffee here, but 
I’ll be expectin’ ye ta come over in the mornin’s and make me coffee 
that’s fit fer human consumption. When she makes it here, ye only have 
ta drink it once. I get it twice.”

Xander laughed again. “Makes me glad that I only dated her, not become
engaged to her.” Doyle glared at him and would have made a nasty retort,
but Angel shook his head, indicating that he didn’t want Doyle to start 
a verbal fight.

“Well, Xander, let’s get down to business,” Angel began, and Xander 
nodded, suddenly serious. “Can you think of anything that you didn’t 
tell us yesterday?”

“Well, I found out the name of the demon,” Xander began. “I couldn’t 
find the slip of paper I’d written it on, so I called Mom. She said it’s 
called a Broken demon, or something. Braggin, maybe?” Xander looked 
confused at his inability to remember the correct name.

“Brachen?” Doyle supplied quietly.

“That’s it!” Xander exclaimed. He frowned. “How did you know?”

“Sounded familiar,” Doyle mumbled. “Do ye have any other way ta identify
this guy ye’re lookin’ fer?” he asked.

“Yeah, my mom said she had some pictures of Dad and the other woman. Dad
didn’t want her to burn them, so he kept them hidden. Mom has to find 
them, and when she does, she said she’d fax them to us here at Angel
Investigations. Supposedly the other woman sent Dad pictures of the kid
when he was a couple years old. It’s not much, but it’s a start,” Xander
said with a shrug. “And I think Mom said the pictures have the kid’s 
name on the back. So if she can find them, at least we’ll have a first 
name.”

“Does your mom have any idea how long it’ll take to find those 
pictures?” Angel asked. “I think I know who it is, but the pictures 
could be the clincher. I can only guess until we have some proof.”

“She’s been going through Dad’s stuff since the funeral. It should only 
be another day or two,” Xander promised.

“Angel, why don’t ye just tell the kid what ye suspect,” Doyle burst out
suddenly. “He has a right ta know what he’s gettin’ inta.”

Angel looked from Doyle, who was scowling, to Xander, who appeared
confused. Nothing has changed much there, at least, he thought with an
inward chuckle. “Xander, I think Doyle is your brother,” he announced
without preamble.

“You’re kidding!” Xander exclaimed. He looked at the frowning Irishman 
and shook his head. “I don’t see it. You’re just leaping to 
conclusions,” he accused. Doyle expelled an angry snort and stalked out 
of the office, leaving Angel to calm Xander down and explain his 
deductions.

“You wanted us to find him, so why are you upset that I have?” Angel 
asked mildly.

“I’m upset because it’s too easy. It’s too coincidental. How could Doyle 
be my brother? I mean, out of all the detective agencies in L.A. that I 
could have gone to, I happen to go to the one where the guy I’m looking 
for works? It doesn’t sound right,” Xander objected.

“I have a theory about that,” Angel mused. “Doyle has something to atone
for. He won’t tell me what it is, but he does. Think about it. The 
Powers That Be sent him to me. You already have a connection to me and 
Cordy, so it’s natural that you would come to us first. Maybe I’m just 
supposed to be the instrument through which you and Doyle meet. Maybe 
helping you understand your demon side is how Doyle is supposed to atone 
for whatever he did. It makes perfect sense. And it would also explain 
the ease of you finding your brother.”

“How come you think Doyle is my brother?” Xander asked edgily. “What 
kind of proof do you have?”

“All the details you’ve given us match Doyle exactly. Doyle’s dad was a
Brachen demon, so he’s half-demon as well. He’s twenty-seven years old 
and has the same dark hair you have, and he has the light eyes you 
described. His dad took off when he was a year or so old, and Doyle 
hasn’t heard fromm him since. He didn’t find out he was a demon, that 
his father was a demon, until he was twenty-one years old, the same age 
you’ve been told the demon presents itself. All the details added up and 
pointed to him.” Angel leaned back in his chair. “If Doyle looks at 
those pictures and recognizes either himself or his mother in them, then 
that’s all the proof we’ll need.”

“This is too easy,” Xander objected half-heartedly.

“It seems that way, doesn’t it?” Angel commiserated. “But I think 
there’s a reason why Doyle was sent to me, besides the fact that I need 
his visions. I could have found people to help without him, although the 
visions help. I think more than the fact that I need him to help me, is 
he needs me to help him.”

Xander looked to the door through which Doyle had disappeared. “I guess 
he isn’t taking it too well?”

Angel sighed. “I don’t think it’s you so much that he objects to. But
because Cordelia knows that you’re a demon, if she finds out Doyle is 
your brother, she’s going to deduce that Doyle is a demon as well, and 
Doyle hasn’t figured out a way to tell her about that part of himself 
yet.”

Xander looked shocked. “You mean they’re engaged, he’s going to marry 
her, and he hasn’t even been honest with her about who he is?”

“Nope. As much as he loves her, he doesn’t quite trust her yet. Or maybe
it’s the hand of Fate that he doesn’t trust. He’s afraid that if she 
finds out he’s a demon, she’ll walk away from him. She hasn’t been the 
most understanding person when it comes to demons and supernatural 
beings.”

“Cordelia, not understanding?” Xander scoffed. He sighed and smiled
ruefully. “And I thought *I* had problems,” he chuckled.

                                 Chapter 7

“Doyle! How did it go? Did you find out who Xander’s brother is?” 
Cordelia asked eagerly when Doyle trudged into the apartment later that 
evening.

“We have a big lead,” Doyle mumbled. “Angel has a good idea who it is, 
but we’re waitin’ fer Xander’s mum ta come up wit some pictures of the 
kid an’ his mum. Supposedly the pictures have the kid’s name on the back 
of ‘em. If we can get those, we’ll at least have a name ta help us out.”

“Fantastic!” Cordelia exclaimed happily. “Then Xander can give us that 
big check I saw him playing with yesterday.”

“Cordelia, some things in life are about more than money,” Doyle 
reminded her irritably.

“I know, I know. Xander will finally have a brother. I’m happy for him.
Maybe the brother has more of a clue about life than Xander does and 
he’ll be able to help him get smart,” Cordelia speculated. Doyle heaved 
another irritated sigh and she looked at him. “What?”

“I’ve just got a lot on me mind,” Doyle offered unconvincingly.

“Like what?” Cordelia demanded to know, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not
backing out of the wedding, are you?”

“God no, of course not! No way would I back out o’ marrying ye. Ye 
couldn’t pay me enough ta not marry ye,” Doyle assured her. Cordelia 
smiled briefly.

“So what’s wrong?” she inquired, more gently this time.

“I have somethin’ I have ta tell ye, an’ I don’t know how I’m goin’ ta 
do it, since I know it’ll make ye mad,” Doyle confessed.

“Whatever it is, you better tell me quick,” Cordelia warned, her eyes
narrowing again. She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t like the way
this sounds. The quicker you do it, the quicker I can find out just 
*how* mad I’m going to be,” she added.

“Cordelia, Princess, what if I were ta tell ye that I’m not who ye think 
I am?” Doyle asked quietly, looking earnestly into her chocolate brown 
eyes.

“I’d say that unless you’re trying to tell me you’re some impoverished
member of the royal family who’s actually married to some fat, ugly,
horrible old nag, I don’t care who you really are. Unless, of course, it
means that the wedding is off and I have to cancel the swans,” Cordelia
mused.

“Cordelia, I haven’t been entirely truthful wit ye about me family,” 
Doyle admitted slowly. She took his hand and held it tight.

“Doyle, if you’re ashamed about your family, it’s okay. I know you have
reason to be,” she said tactlessly, and Doyle rolled his eyes. “I still
love you. I’m marrying you, not them.”

“It’s my parents,” Doyle tried again, and again Cordelia interrupted 
him.

“I’m not marrying your parents. I don’t particularly care if they have
horns sprouting out of their heads.” Doyle winced, because Cordelia had 
hit closer to the truth than she could have imagined. “They could be 
serial killers, for all I know or care.”

“What if they were demons?” Doyle whispered, watching her face.

“They could be demons, too,” she agreed. Doyle waited a second, and sure
enough, Cordelia’s face drained of color. “Are you saying what I think
you’re saying?”

Doyle took a deep breath. “Cordelia, I’m half demon. Me father was a
Bachen demon, an’ I found out that I was, too, when I was twenty-one.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cordelia shrieked angrily, bolting out of her
seat. “Were you waiting for our baby to sprout something icky before you
decided to confess?”

Doyle paused at the idea of Cordelia having his child, then shook his 
head, trying to concentrate on the conversation at hand. “Cordy, I didna 
know how. Ye’ve always been se down on demon folk, I never thought ye’d 
accept the fact that I’m demon, too.”

“Give me some credit!” Cordelia shouted at him, her brown eyes flashing. 
“I never said I hated *all* demons! Just the ones I’d met!”

“Cordy, try ta understan’,” Doyle pleaded. “Everythin’ ye’ve ever said
about demons was that they’re nasty, icky, horrible creatures. I didna
want ye ta classify me in there wit them.”

“I will anyway,” Cordelia retorted. “You lied to me, Doyle. You held
something really important from me. I would have felt the same about you
whether you’d been half-demon, all demon, or no demon at all. But you
didn’t even give me enough credit to tell me the truth and let me think 
for myself.”

“I was scared,” Doyle admitted softly. “Cordy, I’ve never cared about
ennaone besides meself before. I wasn’t entirely sure how ta let ye know
who and what I am witout losing ye, se I didna even want ta try. I 
wasn’t tryin’ ta keep me heritage from ye because I didna trust ye. It 
was because I didna want ta lose ye, and I wasn’t sure how ye’d react.” 
Cordelia softened and she sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around 
his shoulders and resting her cheek on his chest.

“Doyle, I love you. You can’t lose me. You couldn’t have lost me then,
either. I felt something for you, and that wouldn’t have changed. It 
won’t change now, even though I’m so more than ticked at you for lying 
to me.” Doyle breathed a sigh of relief.

“Se ye’ll fergive me?” he asked hopefully.

“Only because Mother has put so much effort into planning this wedding, 
and I can’t get back the deposit on the swans,” Cordelia sniffed. She 
smiled to take away the sting of her words.

Doyle smiled devilishly and flipped Cordelia so she was underneath him,
pinned between him and the couch. “I’ll show ye swans,” he murmured,
nibbling along her jawline. She sighed with pleasure and then wriggled 
away from him. Doyle frowned in confusion. “Why’d ye move away from me?” 
he asked plaintively.

“What made you decide to tell me now?” Cordelia asked, point-blank.

Doyle sighed and sat back. “I kind of thought it would be better ta tell 
ye now, than when ye find out the truth about Xander.”

“What does Xander have to do with this?” Cordelia demanded.

“Because,” Doyle sighed again, “Angel thinks that *I’m* the Harris kid’s
brother.”

                                 Chapter 8

The phone rang early the next morning and Doyle groaned, fumbling for 
the receiver in the dark bedroom. “Doyle speakin’,” he mumbled.

“Doyle. It’s Xander. Is Cordelia there?” Xander asked.

“Of course she is. It’s ‘er apartment,” Doyle reminded him. He rolled 
over. “Cordelia, Princess, it’s the ex.” Cordelia took the receiver and 
glared at Doyle.

“His name’s Xander, and he might be your brother. Be nice,” she scolded.
She lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, Xand,” she said cheerily.

“Tell the pair that they need ta wait ‘til the sun rises before they 
start disturbin’ decent folk from their beds,” Doyle mumbled before 
falling back asleep. Cordelia ignored him.

“What’s going on?” she asked Xander.

“Mom found the pictures last night, and she faxed them to us this 
morning,” Xander explained.

“Why did you ask for me, then?” Cordelia inquired, puzzled. “I thought
Doyle and Angel were the ones you were working with. I haven’t really 
been a part of it.”

“I don’t think Doyle likes me too well,” Xander admitted ruefully. 
“Angel’s the one who called and let me know that the pictures came in 
this morning. I just thought you guys might like to know. I don’t know 
if either of you will want to be here,” he hedged, not sure how much 
Doyle had told Cordelia. He knew that Doyle needed to identify the 
people in the pictures, but did not want to alert Cordelia to the fact 
that Doyle was the prime suspect.

“Doyle told me all about it. I’ll get him up and drag him to the 
office,” Cordelia promised. Xander chuckled.

“Just one more reason for him to love me,” Xander acknowledged wryly.
Cordelia grinned.

“It’s not you. He doesn’t even know you,” Cordelia said easily. “I think
he’s just overwhelmed with everything that’s happening to him. Finding 
out his fiancée’s old boyfriend might be his brother has probably messed 
up his mind. More so than it already was, anyway,” she amended.

“He told you about that?” Xander asked cautiously.

“Yeah. I have to say, I was pretty ticked off at him. But I love him, so 
I forgave him. I tell you, though, he better not make lying to me a 
habit, or can you say separate bedrooms?” she asked with a smirk. Xander 
winced. He knew only too well how spiteful Cordelia could be when things 
didn’t go the way she wanted them to.

“So, I’ll see you later?” Xander asked, anxious to be out of this
particular conversation.

“Yeah. Maybe around eleven?” Cordelia offered, checking the clock. “That
gives me two hours. It should be enough.”

“Eleven, then,” Xander agreed. They said good-bye and hung up.

“Doyle,” Cordelia prodded, shaking him. He moaned and rolled over. 
“Doyle,” she repeated, shaking him again. When he failed to respond, she 
glared at him. “Allen Francis Doyle, I’m talking to you!” she shrieked, 
and he woke up instantly.

“What?” he grumbled. “I was sleeping.”

“You’re not now,” she pointed out. He snorted.

“I’m well aware of that, Cordy,” he said wryly. “What was so all-fired
important that ye had ta holler in me ear?”

“Xander’s mom faxed him the pictures. He needs you to go look at them,”
Cordelia informed him, swinging her legs out of the bed and standing up.
“Dennis, it’s cold in here,” she complained, and instantly a warm draft
blew across her legs. “That’s better,” she said happily. She stood up 
and went to the closet. “Dennis, have you been hiding my Gucci shoes?” 
she asked. “I haven’t been able to find them the last two times I’ve 
wanted to wear them.” Her bottom drawer slid open, and the shoes emerged 
from underneath her workout sweats. “Clever. You knew I wasn’t going 
near that drawer anytime soon,” she realized with a smile. “But quit 
hiding my clothes. If you’re going to bug anyone, go bug Doyle.”

“Hey, let’s not,” Doyle protested. “He doesn’t like me ennaway, ye don’t
need ta go encouragin’ him,” he added with a pout.

“Baby,” she teased cheerfully. She examined the contents of her closet
before pulling out a pair of black capri pants and a liquid silver 
halter top. She headed for the bathroom and pulled her toothbrush from 
its holder. “Do you need in here before I take my shower?” she asked 
around a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Better let me take care o’ business,” Doyle said, reluctantly pulling
himself out of the bed. “If I don’t get in there, ye’ll be ready ta go
before I’ve even brushed me teeth.” He walked in behind her, waiting for
her to get done with the sink. He wrapped his arms around her waist and
rested his chin on the top of her head, gazing at their reflections in 
the mirror. They looked so perfect together, although he would have 
thought that even if they didn’t. He looked lovingly at Cordelia’s 
reflection, happily wrapped up in his arms, and thought for the 
millionth time that he was the luckiest man in the world.

“Excuse me, Mr. ‘It doesn’t bother me to smother you before either of us
has taken a shower,’ but I still have morning hair,” Cordelia 
complained. “Let me get in the shower. We only have an hour and a half 
before we have to meet Xander and Angel at the office.” Doyle let her go 
while the shower turned on and Dennis adjusted the temperature knobs to 
Cordelia’s liking.

“Wish the ghost was se considerate of me needs,” Doyle grumbled, 
brushing his teeth while Cordelia stepped underneath the water’s hot 
spray.

“You can always take advantage of Dennis’s consideration of me,” 
Cordelia reminded him, lathering her hair.

“How so?” Doyle asked, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing out his
mouth.

“Well, you need to take a shower too, right? To economize on water, you 
can always share mine,” she offered lightly. Doyle wasted no time in 
shucking his boxers and leaping into the shower with her.

Forty minutes later, Cordelia was sitting at her make-up table while 
Doyle reclined on the bed, flipping through on of her Frederick’s of 
Hollywood catalogues. “How do ye woman fit inta these little scraps of 
material?” Doyle wondered, concealing his admiration for the scantily 
clad underwear models.

“By knowing we don’t have to be in them for long,” Cordelia responded, 
her lips curving into a grin. Doyle groaned.

“Ye like temptin’ me, don’t ye, Princess?” he pouted.

“Mmm. I like it better when *you* tempt *me*,” Cordy admitted.
“Unfortunately, we have to go to the office, so there’ll be none of that
this morning.”

“Damn,” Doyle muttered. Cordelia laughed.

Doyle wandered into the living room and turned on the TV while Cordelia
continued to do her hair and makeup. Thirty minutes later she announced 
she was ready, and the two of them gazed at each other. “You’re finally 
going to find out if Xander is your brother,” Cordelia said softly. 
Doyle nodded, swallowing. “You okay?”

“As okay as I’ll ever be,” Doyle said gamely. “Let’s go.”

                                 Chapter 9

Cordelia and Doyle entered the office hand-in-hand. “Ye know, I’m a mite
bit sick of this place, I am,” Doyle grumbled. “Seems like I’ve been 
here much too often in the last couple of days, witout gettin’ ennathin’ 
done.”

“When do you ever get anything done?” Cordelia asked flippantly, which
earned her a withering glare from her fiancé. She smiled sweetly in 
return.

“Doyle, Cordelia, glad you’re here,” Angel said, entering the front 
office. Xander followed behind him, clutching a few pieces of paper that 
Doyle could only assume were the photographs. “I guess this is it. This 
will be the deciding factor.”

“I don’t know why ye’re actin’ se nervous,” Doyle said sullenly. “Ye’ve
already got yer mind made up. Accordin’ ta ye, I’m this kid’s brother 
an’ there’s no two ways about it. Now all of a sudden ye’re not sure.”

“I’m sure. You and Xander are the ones who are going to need the
convincing,” Angel returned. “That’s what the pictures are for.”

“Se let me see ‘em, already,” Doyle commanded, reaching for the photos
Xander still held tightly in his fist. Xander silently handed them over 
to Doyle, who quickly flipped through them, then examined them in more 
detail. Xander and Cordelia held their breath, waiting for him to 
confirm or deny Angel’s suspicion. Angel merely watched Doyle. “This is 
me mum,” Doyle said flatly. “She’s about ten years younger there than I 
remember her, but no doubt about it, it’s her.” He turned the photo of 
the child over and his eyes registered his defeat. “It says ‘Allen’ on 
the back,” he announced quietly. “I never saw enna pictures of meself 
when I was that young, but I would imagine that’s what I looked like as 
a kid. Looks like ye were right, Angel, man. I guess I should have 
learned by now that when ye get an idea in yer head like that, ye’re 
always right.” He tossed the pictures down on Cordelia’s desk and 
collapsed into the chair next to it.

“Do you feel better, now that you know?” Angel asked quietly. He didn’t
direct the question at anyone, but all three of the others sensed that 
he was asking Doyle and not Xander. Doyle shook his head.

The four were silent, each contemplating how the revelation was going to
affect their lives. After a few minutes of the silence, Angel caught
Xander’s attention and silently motioned for him to go downstairs. When
they’d departed, Cordelia and Doyle were left alone.

“Are you okay, Doyle?” Cordelia queried uncertainly. She wasn’t quite 
sure what to say to him. She could only imagine what he was going 
through. He’d spoken often of the fact that he’d had no family, not for 
years, with the exception of Harry. She wasn’t sure how well he was 
handling the newest addition.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered. “Not surprised, I guess. Angel knew it 
was comin’ an’ let me know, se it wasn’t like it was a shock or 
ennathin’. An’ it’s not like I mind the kid se much. I hardly even know 
him. I don’t really know why I dislike the idea se much.”

“You don’t like change?” Cordelia suggested.

“Growin’ up the way I did, ye had ta learn ta roll wit the punches. Ye 
got used ta change, an’ quick, ‘cause things changed everaday. I don’t 
think it’s that,” Doyle mused. “I think maybe it’s that I never wanted 
ta think about me past. I ran from it, instead of facin’ it. Now wit 
Xander here, knowin’ he’s of me flesh an’ blood, it’s like the past is 
comin’ back an’ sayin’, ‘Ye can’t run away ennamore.’ I have ta face 
what I never wanted ta think about. An’ I’m not good at ‘lookin’ at me 
inner self’ an’ all that crap,” he confessed. “I ignore what makes me 
ashamed.”

“There’s no reason to be ashamed of anything you’ve done,” Cordelia said
compassionately. “We all make mistakes, and we all do things we’re not
proud of. It’s how we make up for them that shows what we’re worth as 
human beings.” Both Doyle and Cordelia looked stunned at what had come 
out of her mouth. “Did I really say that?” she questioned doubtfully.

“Ye really did,” Doyle said with pride.

“Oh my gosh, I had an insight,” she marveled. “And I never even had to 
take a psychology class to do it!”

Doyle rolled his eyes and pulled Cordelia into his lap. “I guess it 
doesn’t really matter what I did before I met ye, Princess,” he mused. 
“The good Lord saw fit ta give ye ta me, se I must not have been too bad 
a fella.”

“I don’t think that has anything to do with it,” Cordelia said 
tactlessly. “I think God just thinks it’s funny to make me fall in love 
with losers. First Xander, then you.”

Doyle debated whether or not he should take offense at her unintentional
insult. He decided not to. “Se now what?” he mused thoughtfully. “Do we
become an instant family, or what?”

“Trust me, you do not want to be at the Harris family reunion,” Cordelia
said with a shudder. “Even without Xander’s dad there, it’ll be an event 
to forget. Mostly because of the river of alcohol that’ll be longer than 
the Mississippi. On second thought, you’ll probably fit right in,” she 
added unthinkingly. Doyle cast her a withering glare. She didn’t notice. 
“In any case, I doubt that Xander’ll be wanting brotherly advice on 
girls and dating, or a buddy to go to watch baseball with.”

“Which is a good thing, ‘cause I’m more at home at the track ennaway,”
Doyle put in with a grin. She cast him a withering glare. He didn’t 
notice. “We’re both adults. We have our own lives. I don’t imagine that 
our paths will cross too often. Maybe bein’ his brother won’t be se bad, 
after all,” Doyle admitted. “It’s not like he’s lookin’ fer a brotherly 
type. He just wants ta know who he is, what he is. I can help him wit 
that.”

“Can you help him find a sense of fashion?” Cordelia muttered. She 
smirked. “Oh, wait, you really can’t. You can’t even find one for 
yourself.”

“Then isn’t it a good thing yer mother is pickin’ out the tux?” Doyle
retorted testily.

“It really is,” Cordelia agreed with a sunny smile. Doyle groaned.

“Ye’re not goin’ ta make things easy on me, are ye?” he complained
good-naturedly.

“Of course not,” Cordelia cried, offended. “You think I’m going to be 
some mild-mannered, bland and boring housewife? I so do not think so.”

“Good,” Doyle murmured, lowering his voice seductively. “I wouldna want 
ye enna other way.”

                                 Chapter 10

The next morning, Cordelia and Doyle were at the office early to say
good-bye to Xander, who was going home to spend some time with his mom 
and tell her what he’d found out. “Are you sure you have to leave 
already?” Cordelia whined, hugging Xander tightly. He grinned and 
extricated himself from her vise-like grip.

“Why? You gonna miss me?” he teased.

“Not likely,” she sniffed. “I was hoping now that we know you and Doyle 
are brothers, you’d keep him out of my way until the wedding. Men are 
such inconveniences during the preparation.” She sat down in the desk 
chair while Xander hovered near the door.

“I’ll come back,” Xander promised. “I might even help him pick out your
wedding present,” he threatened playfully. Cordelia’s eyes grew small.

“If you talk him into buying me cheap perfume I’ll do more than hurt 
you,” she returned. “I’ll hurt your chances to have children.” Xander, 
Doyle, and Angel all three grimaced, and she smiled in satisfaction. 
“When all else fails, threaten harm to the tool that does their 
thinking,” she laughed out loud. “Nothing hurts them more.”

“I’ll be seein’ ye, man,” Doyle inserted, taking Xander’s attention away
from Cordelia, shaking the younger man’s hand. Xander nodded.

“I won’t make a pest of myself. It’s just nice to know who my family 
is,” he said easily. Cordelia stifled a smirk and Xander rolled his 
eyes. “Come on, Cordelia, go ahead and say it. You know you want to.”

“Too easy,” she giggled. “You won’t make a pest of yourself? How far 
away do you think you can go before *that* will happen?” she asked 
innocently.

“Boy, Doyle, I really envy you,” Xander said sweetly. He paused. “No, 
wait, I really don’t.” He laughed when Cordelia became indignant at his 
mockery of her manner of speech.

“Maybe it’s time you actually left,” Angel suggested, his lips twitching
into a wry grin. “I’d hate for Doyle to lose his brother so soon after 
he found him.”

“Yeah, I really do need to get going,” Xander acknowledged. He opened 
the door and stepped into the doorway. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?” 
The trio of unofficial investigators nodded. “Take care of yourselves. 
Doyle,” he said by way of good-bye.

“Xander,” Doyle returned. Xander nodded and then closed the door behind
him. “Now that was one helluva weekend,” he said. Angel nodded his
agreement. “It still seems se unreal. Like, one minute the kid shows up,
lookin’ fer his long-lost brother, all of a sudden I’m the guy he’s 
lookin’ fer, an’ then we’re one big happy family an’ then he’s leavin’ 
again. Don’t I get enna time ta adjust?” he complained good-naturedly.

“It did happen awfully quick, didn’t it?” Cordelia commiserated. “I 
mean, here I am thinking that it was a miracle Xander and I ever got 
together in the first place, seeing as how far out of my social circle 
he is, and now all of a sudden he’s my future brother-in-law? It just 
boggles my mind.”

“Doesn’t take much,” Doyle muttered under his breath. Cordelia turned on
him suspiciously, but he was the epitome of angelic innocence. Angel
stifled a laugh.

The three of them started to gather their things. Since Xander was gone 
and they had no cases, there was no reason for them to stay in the 
office. As Cordelia put it, the machine could get any calls and they 
could work on them Monday. Doyle headed for the door while Cordelia 
grabbed her purse. Angel watched the two of them prepare to leave and he 
himself found his thoughts wandering to those convenient sewer tunnels 
beneath his apartment.

“I’m going to the precinct,” Angel announced, turning around to head 
back into his apartment.

“You’re sure spending an awful lot of time there,” Cordelia said
suspiciously. “Does Kate know you’re researching more than the most 
recent coroner’s reports?”

Angel shook his head. “There’s nothing between me and Kate,” he defended
himself.

“But ye want there ta be,” Doyle said perceptively, putting his arm 
around Cordelia.

“Look, I know nothing can come of it,” Angel sighed. “I haven’t 
encouraged Kate-or myself, for that matter. We just work well together. 
Especially since we clued her in to the supernatural workings of the 
world, her connections have been helpful to us.”

“All right, man, we just want ye ta be happy,” Doyle assured him. “We 
won’t push ye or nothin’.”

“I know, you’re just looking out for me,” Angel returned. He turned and
disappeared into the inner sanctum of his apartment, while Cordelia and
Doyle let themselves out the front door.

“We really should help the two of them out,” Doyle mused as he and 
Cordelia walked hand-in-hand down the streets of L.A.

“Unh-uh!” Cordelia exclaimed, tossing her raven hair. “No way!”

“Princess, why not?” he protested, looking into her eyes. “We know we’re
good at helpin’ people find each other. Look how well the thing wit 
Xander turned out,” he offered.

“There’s one big difference between Xander’s case and Kate and Angel,”
Cordelia reminded him, looking into a department store window.

“An’ what’s that?” Doyle demanded to know.

“You really think Kate will pay us for hooking her up with Angel?” 
Cordelia scoffed. Doyle rolled his eyes and hugged her to him.

“Princess, ye know there really are some things in life that aren’t 
about money,” he reminded her with a rueful grin.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Family and all that,” Cordelia said with a 
dismissive wave of her hand.

“Yeah. Family. The ones that make it nice ta come home at night,” he
agreed. He thought about Xander and felt sympathy for both the kid and
himself. Neither one had had an easy time of it. He hoped that maybe 
their new relationship would open doors for both of them that neither 
would have had otherwise. “Family is important, Cordelia, especially 
when ye’ve never had any. Blood is a strong tie. And sometimes that 
blood is the only thing that lets ye know ye’re not alone in the world,” 
Doyle said candidly.

“Doyle, you’re never going to be alone,” Cordelia promised him in a rare
soft moment. She stopped in the middle of the street and reached up to
twine her arms around his neck, unheeding of the stares of passerby. She
kissed him deeply, then lay her head on his chest. “I could never leave
you. I love you too much.”

Doyle held on to her tightly, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair 
and feeling his chest swell with love. No, he would never be alone. His 
love for Cordelia, and hers for him, had bound them together for an 
eternity.

Blood was a strong tie, but their love was even stronger.


It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought. It figures
Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face