As you well know, these guys aren't mine. Thanks for your continuing
interest. I appreciate the reviews - they do make you write faster -
really. Keep it up!
Chapter 5
Around 5:30, Dawn comes home from studying at the library. When she had gotten up so late, Buffy had sent her to study in the school library verses cutting school the whole day. Leave it to Buffy to send you directly to the Hellmouth to keep you out of trouble!
It has been a good day. She had ample time to goof off - doodling Mrs. Alexander Harris over and over again. After she had done this about a thousand times, she went on to name their three children - Angela Joyce, Summer Elizabeth and John Alexander. At lunch she had eaten the corners of her sandwich until she had made a heart. And finally she calculated the difference in their ages - 5 years, 2 months and 3 days - figuring in for leap year. Basically, she had indulged in all the prescribed activities for a love struck teenage girl.
For the first time in forever, she is looking forward to coming home. She realizes this is the Xander-effect and not some newfound sentimentality about home sweet home.
Xander has been trying to play it cool. For the last twenty minutes, he has been watching the clock waiting for her to walk in. He has been playing Scramble with a couple of potentials for the past hour. They must be the designated invalid-watchers for the afternoon. When Dawn walks through the door and heads directly towards the sofa both girls make a hasty retreat with mumbled excuses now that their relief has arrived. Dawn and Xander exchange a look; both know what all that was about. No doubt the girls are feeling sorry for Dawn getting stuck with him for the rest of the day. Oh well, shows you how much they know about anything!
This is the first time that they've been together since their hasty confessions of last night and this morning. Both are shy and hesitant. With Dawn, her own exuberance and energy cannot be dampened for long and she breaks the ice for both of them. Rising to her knees right beside of him and she smiles widely as she says "Hi, Pirate Bob!" He smiles back just as widely, looking intently into those sparkling hazel eyes, "Hi, yourself. You ready for Invalid Watch 2003? It's the only show in town." He quips sarcastically. "I think everybody else is poised to go out on reconnaissance tonight," he adds seriously.
She winks at him and grins some more, "Hey, I don't think you're much of an invalid. Some of our guests are more disabled by their lack of IQ points" she teases.
Kidding aside, they fall into more serious communication. "Are you? Do you really feel like such an invalid, I know we've been joking around it a lot " she asks carefully.
He loves that she is brave enough to ask. He used to admire the way Anya would say whatever came into her head but with Dawn it is so much more than that. She seems to have a true sensitivity about her. He has to think a minute before he answers her. She is right; they have been joking about the issue a lot. So much so, he hasn't really thought about it too hard himself.
After thinking about it, cataloging it along with all of the other weird and possibly tragic occurrences in his life, he decides that it isn't as bad as he had initially thought. There were several invisible wounds that were healing more slowly. Considering all this, he smiles at her and shakes his head. "No, really I'm OK. REALLY OK not just saying OK to be brave or to get you to change the subject. If this is all that I lose coming out of this, I'll feel pretty good. I 'm scared, I'm - we're - going to lose more." His voice fades with the last phrase. There isn't a need to talk things to death with Dawn. She knows, she truly knows.
The seriousness of the moment is tinged with anticipation for them both but before either of them can speak again, Spike and Buffy come into the room in their usual fashion - loud. They are discussing the preferred method by which to kill an UberVamp. Dawn rolls her eyes as she wonders when the two people she had considered to be the absolute coolest in the world had become so monotonous. Neither can see past their own baggage to see that each is crazy in love with the other. At some point it stops being romantic becomes just plain stupid.
To add insult to injury, Anya bursts in the front door not a minute later. Totally ignoring Buffy and Spike's conversation, she begins to complain about how the impending apocalypse is hurting business down at the Magic Shop. She goes on until she finally catches on that no one is listening. Seeing Xander's stricken expression upon viewing the circus unfolding in front of him, Anya directs her attention to him.
"Xander, don't look so sad, there are many women who will not care about your injury as long as your other 'parts' are still functioning properly."
He continues to be in awe of how she manages to say the things she says. Maybe the whole break-up was a good idea after all.He looks at Dawn out of the corner of his good eye and see that she is blushing. His heart melts a little at the thought the she can still be embarrassed. He finds it not only endearing but somehow promising.
Somehow both he and Dawn manage to weather the endless comings and goings until it grows dark and they are again alone. They are both painfully aware that they only have a little quiet time. At some point, something bad will happen again and they will be sucked back under with it.
She gets up announcing that she is going to go get his medication and the dressings for his eye. Normally, he would have bristled at her helping him and covered it with a healthy dose of sarcasm but he finds himself clean out at the moment. By the time he recovers from his loss, she is up and on her way to the kitchen.
He hops up to follow her, "Hey Dawnie, I'm half blind not crippled" he shouts. She is just reaching into the cabinet to get his pain medication and the high powered antibiotic he is taking to cut down on the risk of a secondary infection.
It's as if a switch in his brain is popped on and he continues on until he is directly behind her. His hands easily span her tiny waist and he nuzzles her neck with his mouth. He comes to, in this position, in awe that his hormones took the driver's seat for a minute. He opens his mouth to apologize to her but before he can do so she turns in his arms. Her arms go eagerly around his neck and she presses her lips to his.
For the first bit, he stands there frozen in place like a big piece of wood. She doesn't seem to notice and continues to press firm kisses against his lips. She is the only active party in this display of affection that his bad judgement has sparked. That she doesn't even notice seems to point to her own youth and naivete.
He slides his own hands up to her face, framing the lovely oval shape as her kisses continue unabated. His intent is to pull back from her easily. He would like nothing better than to participate in her activity of choice but intellectually, he reasons that it isn't the time or the place.
He reminds himself of all of the things he thought of this afternoon - that she is young, that she must be protected first and foremost - even from their own desires, that they have all the time in the world. At that one, his heart stops a beat - he hopes that they have all of the time in the world.
With her face in his hands, he takes control of the situation for the first time. All of his misgivings flee as he tilts her head and spears one hand through her long hair. He takes turns playing with one then the other of her lips, gently memorizing their shape, their texture. This simple act is somehow summarily more than he has ever experienced with any other woman. However, his reverence for her is coupled with an intensely carnal form of worship. A primal, masculine part of him relishes the fact that he will be first. That he will take from her her most precious and sacred gift.
This thought arouses him further and he begins to trace the outline of her lips. As he does this her heart beats louder and louder, her breath is coming faster and she must part her lips in order to draw in a breath.
CRASH. BANG. SCREAMS. GLASS BREAKING. IS THAT THE COFFEE TABLE?
With the party returning home early from its appointed rounds and seemingly bringing with them some fairly unruly guests, Xander pulls back. He grabs the nearest kitchen chair and throws it on the floor, breaking it in the process. He takes one sharp, broken leg for himself and hands one to Dawn, announcing "I guess the convalescence is over, huh?"
************************
The digital clock on top of Dawn's Barbie Jewelry Box glows with the numbers 4:15 am when Xander walks into her room to get to bed. After the fight, there was a good bit of repair work that needed to be done. And while he is tired, it is nice to be up and around. The combined adrenaline rush and its aftermath seemed to have cured everyone of the thought that he was no longer a functioning member of the army. Well, he says, it's about time. If he is going down, he is going down swinging.
He has just pulled off his shirt and is unbuttoning his jeans when the door opens. From the way he is turned, he has to turn around all the way to see who it is. Expecting Willow, he is surprised to see Dawn. The last he had seen of Dawn was in the basement sharing tips with Spike and two potentials for getting blood stains out of 100% cotton clothes.
She catches the look of warning on his face but holds up the first aid kit out of defense. So, she is now bearing gifts it would seem.
"Ah, I told Willow that I could cover this. I said I wanted to be a nurse when I grow up." She announces the last part with a sly look on her face, proud of her cover.
Xander shakes his head and laughs. It is way to late to argue and God knows, between Buffy practically signing Dawn over to him and Willow, now sending her to his bed at Four AM - well, he just gives up. The next thing you know Spike is going to show up to talk with him about dating much younger women.
She promptly arranges several pillows on the side of the bed nearest the brightest light in the room and gestures for him to lie down. He complies, lies down and closes his good eye. He knows that she is taking a risk here, she is facing his injury. He knows how she feels, he been facing it everyday - he's already run the whole psycho-babble gambit of emotions and back several times over. He hears her take in a breath and feels for cool fingers slide the outside patch away. She then takes off the gauze and other dressings. He waits for a sound. He feels her reach over and she gets a hot compress that she must have brought with her. She washes his closed eyelid and then presses the compress to his eye.
"Is this OK? Isn't not too hot?"
He feels her tensing to move backward, he reaches out and holds her wrist making her hold her hand in place. "No, it feels good. Maybe you would make a good nurse?"
She laughs softly, he can tell this is hard for her but if they are going to have a chance then she may as well face the ugly truth now. After a few minutes, she takes the compress off and dries his eye off with a soft, dry towel.
"Um, I think this is when Willow said to put the saline drops in your eye. Can you open your eye? I mean . ?" her voice stops as he answers her by opening his eyelids - both of them.
She can't look away, she is frozen in place. The injury is obscene - not in it's scope but in its success. She smiles the "Brave Dawn Smile" as in the "My Mom Just Died Smile", the "My Sister Just Died Smile" and his personal favorite, the "I Just Found Out That Some Monks Made Me Out of Thin Air Smile". He can't help but think that those were just warm ups for the "My Cradle-Robbing Boyfriend Has One Eye Smile".
She takes the drops and applies the solution without so much as a blink. She is tough, he's got to hand her that. She finishes up quickly and efficiently. Maybe she should really think about the nurse thing?
He keeps his eyes closed as she gets up and moves things around. He is lost in his thoughts, she in hers. This time he feels her weight settle on the far side of the bed. She lends over and turns off the light. The clock now says 5:00 AM , she takes the clock and pulls it so that it comes out of the wall and the offending light goes off. She mutters, "'Screw School" and settles next to him before he can come up with a suitable comment. He turns to his side and spoons her close to him. At least he still has his jeans on, if someone thinks to check up on them, he thinks. She shivers a bit and he reaches down and pulls a quilt over both of them.
TBC
Chapter 5
Around 5:30, Dawn comes home from studying at the library. When she had gotten up so late, Buffy had sent her to study in the school library verses cutting school the whole day. Leave it to Buffy to send you directly to the Hellmouth to keep you out of trouble!
It has been a good day. She had ample time to goof off - doodling Mrs. Alexander Harris over and over again. After she had done this about a thousand times, she went on to name their three children - Angela Joyce, Summer Elizabeth and John Alexander. At lunch she had eaten the corners of her sandwich until she had made a heart. And finally she calculated the difference in their ages - 5 years, 2 months and 3 days - figuring in for leap year. Basically, she had indulged in all the prescribed activities for a love struck teenage girl.
For the first time in forever, she is looking forward to coming home. She realizes this is the Xander-effect and not some newfound sentimentality about home sweet home.
Xander has been trying to play it cool. For the last twenty minutes, he has been watching the clock waiting for her to walk in. He has been playing Scramble with a couple of potentials for the past hour. They must be the designated invalid-watchers for the afternoon. When Dawn walks through the door and heads directly towards the sofa both girls make a hasty retreat with mumbled excuses now that their relief has arrived. Dawn and Xander exchange a look; both know what all that was about. No doubt the girls are feeling sorry for Dawn getting stuck with him for the rest of the day. Oh well, shows you how much they know about anything!
This is the first time that they've been together since their hasty confessions of last night and this morning. Both are shy and hesitant. With Dawn, her own exuberance and energy cannot be dampened for long and she breaks the ice for both of them. Rising to her knees right beside of him and she smiles widely as she says "Hi, Pirate Bob!" He smiles back just as widely, looking intently into those sparkling hazel eyes, "Hi, yourself. You ready for Invalid Watch 2003? It's the only show in town." He quips sarcastically. "I think everybody else is poised to go out on reconnaissance tonight," he adds seriously.
She winks at him and grins some more, "Hey, I don't think you're much of an invalid. Some of our guests are more disabled by their lack of IQ points" she teases.
Kidding aside, they fall into more serious communication. "Are you? Do you really feel like such an invalid, I know we've been joking around it a lot " she asks carefully.
He loves that she is brave enough to ask. He used to admire the way Anya would say whatever came into her head but with Dawn it is so much more than that. She seems to have a true sensitivity about her. He has to think a minute before he answers her. She is right; they have been joking about the issue a lot. So much so, he hasn't really thought about it too hard himself.
After thinking about it, cataloging it along with all of the other weird and possibly tragic occurrences in his life, he decides that it isn't as bad as he had initially thought. There were several invisible wounds that were healing more slowly. Considering all this, he smiles at her and shakes his head. "No, really I'm OK. REALLY OK not just saying OK to be brave or to get you to change the subject. If this is all that I lose coming out of this, I'll feel pretty good. I 'm scared, I'm - we're - going to lose more." His voice fades with the last phrase. There isn't a need to talk things to death with Dawn. She knows, she truly knows.
The seriousness of the moment is tinged with anticipation for them both but before either of them can speak again, Spike and Buffy come into the room in their usual fashion - loud. They are discussing the preferred method by which to kill an UberVamp. Dawn rolls her eyes as she wonders when the two people she had considered to be the absolute coolest in the world had become so monotonous. Neither can see past their own baggage to see that each is crazy in love with the other. At some point it stops being romantic becomes just plain stupid.
To add insult to injury, Anya bursts in the front door not a minute later. Totally ignoring Buffy and Spike's conversation, she begins to complain about how the impending apocalypse is hurting business down at the Magic Shop. She goes on until she finally catches on that no one is listening. Seeing Xander's stricken expression upon viewing the circus unfolding in front of him, Anya directs her attention to him.
"Xander, don't look so sad, there are many women who will not care about your injury as long as your other 'parts' are still functioning properly."
He continues to be in awe of how she manages to say the things she says. Maybe the whole break-up was a good idea after all.He looks at Dawn out of the corner of his good eye and see that she is blushing. His heart melts a little at the thought the she can still be embarrassed. He finds it not only endearing but somehow promising.
Somehow both he and Dawn manage to weather the endless comings and goings until it grows dark and they are again alone. They are both painfully aware that they only have a little quiet time. At some point, something bad will happen again and they will be sucked back under with it.
She gets up announcing that she is going to go get his medication and the dressings for his eye. Normally, he would have bristled at her helping him and covered it with a healthy dose of sarcasm but he finds himself clean out at the moment. By the time he recovers from his loss, she is up and on her way to the kitchen.
He hops up to follow her, "Hey Dawnie, I'm half blind not crippled" he shouts. She is just reaching into the cabinet to get his pain medication and the high powered antibiotic he is taking to cut down on the risk of a secondary infection.
It's as if a switch in his brain is popped on and he continues on until he is directly behind her. His hands easily span her tiny waist and he nuzzles her neck with his mouth. He comes to, in this position, in awe that his hormones took the driver's seat for a minute. He opens his mouth to apologize to her but before he can do so she turns in his arms. Her arms go eagerly around his neck and she presses her lips to his.
For the first bit, he stands there frozen in place like a big piece of wood. She doesn't seem to notice and continues to press firm kisses against his lips. She is the only active party in this display of affection that his bad judgement has sparked. That she doesn't even notice seems to point to her own youth and naivete.
He slides his own hands up to her face, framing the lovely oval shape as her kisses continue unabated. His intent is to pull back from her easily. He would like nothing better than to participate in her activity of choice but intellectually, he reasons that it isn't the time or the place.
He reminds himself of all of the things he thought of this afternoon - that she is young, that she must be protected first and foremost - even from their own desires, that they have all the time in the world. At that one, his heart stops a beat - he hopes that they have all of the time in the world.
With her face in his hands, he takes control of the situation for the first time. All of his misgivings flee as he tilts her head and spears one hand through her long hair. He takes turns playing with one then the other of her lips, gently memorizing their shape, their texture. This simple act is somehow summarily more than he has ever experienced with any other woman. However, his reverence for her is coupled with an intensely carnal form of worship. A primal, masculine part of him relishes the fact that he will be first. That he will take from her her most precious and sacred gift.
This thought arouses him further and he begins to trace the outline of her lips. As he does this her heart beats louder and louder, her breath is coming faster and she must part her lips in order to draw in a breath.
CRASH. BANG. SCREAMS. GLASS BREAKING. IS THAT THE COFFEE TABLE?
With the party returning home early from its appointed rounds and seemingly bringing with them some fairly unruly guests, Xander pulls back. He grabs the nearest kitchen chair and throws it on the floor, breaking it in the process. He takes one sharp, broken leg for himself and hands one to Dawn, announcing "I guess the convalescence is over, huh?"
************************
The digital clock on top of Dawn's Barbie Jewelry Box glows with the numbers 4:15 am when Xander walks into her room to get to bed. After the fight, there was a good bit of repair work that needed to be done. And while he is tired, it is nice to be up and around. The combined adrenaline rush and its aftermath seemed to have cured everyone of the thought that he was no longer a functioning member of the army. Well, he says, it's about time. If he is going down, he is going down swinging.
He has just pulled off his shirt and is unbuttoning his jeans when the door opens. From the way he is turned, he has to turn around all the way to see who it is. Expecting Willow, he is surprised to see Dawn. The last he had seen of Dawn was in the basement sharing tips with Spike and two potentials for getting blood stains out of 100% cotton clothes.
She catches the look of warning on his face but holds up the first aid kit out of defense. So, she is now bearing gifts it would seem.
"Ah, I told Willow that I could cover this. I said I wanted to be a nurse when I grow up." She announces the last part with a sly look on her face, proud of her cover.
Xander shakes his head and laughs. It is way to late to argue and God knows, between Buffy practically signing Dawn over to him and Willow, now sending her to his bed at Four AM - well, he just gives up. The next thing you know Spike is going to show up to talk with him about dating much younger women.
She promptly arranges several pillows on the side of the bed nearest the brightest light in the room and gestures for him to lie down. He complies, lies down and closes his good eye. He knows that she is taking a risk here, she is facing his injury. He knows how she feels, he been facing it everyday - he's already run the whole psycho-babble gambit of emotions and back several times over. He hears her take in a breath and feels for cool fingers slide the outside patch away. She then takes off the gauze and other dressings. He waits for a sound. He feels her reach over and she gets a hot compress that she must have brought with her. She washes his closed eyelid and then presses the compress to his eye.
"Is this OK? Isn't not too hot?"
He feels her tensing to move backward, he reaches out and holds her wrist making her hold her hand in place. "No, it feels good. Maybe you would make a good nurse?"
She laughs softly, he can tell this is hard for her but if they are going to have a chance then she may as well face the ugly truth now. After a few minutes, she takes the compress off and dries his eye off with a soft, dry towel.
"Um, I think this is when Willow said to put the saline drops in your eye. Can you open your eye? I mean . ?" her voice stops as he answers her by opening his eyelids - both of them.
She can't look away, she is frozen in place. The injury is obscene - not in it's scope but in its success. She smiles the "Brave Dawn Smile" as in the "My Mom Just Died Smile", the "My Sister Just Died Smile" and his personal favorite, the "I Just Found Out That Some Monks Made Me Out of Thin Air Smile". He can't help but think that those were just warm ups for the "My Cradle-Robbing Boyfriend Has One Eye Smile".
She takes the drops and applies the solution without so much as a blink. She is tough, he's got to hand her that. She finishes up quickly and efficiently. Maybe she should really think about the nurse thing?
He keeps his eyes closed as she gets up and moves things around. He is lost in his thoughts, she in hers. This time he feels her weight settle on the far side of the bed. She lends over and turns off the light. The clock now says 5:00 AM , she takes the clock and pulls it so that it comes out of the wall and the offending light goes off. She mutters, "'Screw School" and settles next to him before he can come up with a suitable comment. He turns to his side and spoons her close to him. At least he still has his jeans on, if someone thinks to check up on them, he thinks. She shivers a bit and he reaches down and pulls a quilt over both of them.
TBC