“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.”