Title: O God, thou wilt not despise
Author: Loraineee
Email: [email protected]
Summary: A post-First Date scene between two old friends
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some angst, primarily in later chapters
Spoilers: Takes place after episode 7.14 First Date
Archiving: Sure, just let me know
Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy
Author's Notes: This is my first Buffy fanfiction, so be kind...I'm easily freaked.


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The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.

~Psalm 51

When the girls quieted down, Xander clumsily limped into the kitchen, gingerly holding his injured side and trying not to reopen the gaping wound. He needed orange juice and he needed it now. Bleeding over a ancient, uber-evil seal for ten minutes after being stabbed by someone or thing that was supposed to be a nice, normal date but had turned out to be some sort of scary cat demon who wanted to align herself/itself with the First, really took a lot out of a guy. He had that vaguely dizzy and lightheaded feeling that let him know that the adrenaline rush one got from nearly dying was gone and he could already feel his head starting to pound.

In a rare moment of silence in the teen-crowded house, he pulled open the refrigerator, staring into the harsh light. There was no orange juice...of course...there wouldn't be, he needed it. SIghing, he closed the fridge and leaned his forehead on the cold exterior. It felt good. A small moment of pleasure after yet another night filled with humiliation. Another wacky disaster for the Xandman. God, his side was really starting to hurt.

You know, sometimes it's easier to open the door, if you wanna see what's inside, said a cheery, tired voice from behind him. Xander jumped and hesitated slightly before plastering on a smile and turning around to greet her.

Yeah, I know...but you never know when you'll develop x-ray vision. And besides, I already looked. It seems the baby-slayers drank all the orange juice...massive blood loss here. I want a cookie and some juice, but alas, there is no juice to be had. Unless... He raised his eyebrows, giving his best wounded puppy look, which really wasn't hard considering the circumstances.

Fine, sit down. I'll make you some orange juice, but only if you let me take a look at that gash. Xander eased himself down onto a stool, wincing as he arranged himself into the least painful position. We just got that hospital size first aid kit and I've been itching to use it. They've got everything a psuedo-doctor type could want.

He closed his eyes and listened as his best friend rambled on about butterfly bandages and bacitracin as she made his orange juice...his sweet, sweet orange juice. Her flood of words was replaced by a crescendo-ing roar that threatened to overtake him.

Not that I wanted someone to get hurt. I've just really wanted to break it open. She poured out a glass of freshly made OJ. There you go, Xander...Xander! He opened his eyes to see her concerned face. Huh, it'd been a long time since she'd given him that look. You okay?

Yeah...just tired, I guess. He smiled sleepily as he reached for the juice she'd set in front of him. Where'd that come from? He didn't remember her putting that there. Setting that disturbing thought aside, he gulped down the juice, stopping only to breath and set down the glass when he'd drained it of it's contents. More please.

She filled the glass and put down the pitcher. Sighing, she briefly rested her hand against his cheek before brushing his hair out of his eyes. What are we going to do with you, kid? You look like the hellmouth chewed you up and spit you out.

I know. It was really scary, Will. He avoided her gaze as he gulped down his second glass of OJ. I didn't know if I was going to make it...I've been lucky too many times. And with the First around...

Don't talk like that. You've got us...we'll always find you in time. The statement hung in the air. Xander would always need rescuing. She tried to cover it up. Besides, until this deal-y with the First is finished, I think Giles was right. We should be focusing on the fight at hand...not getting distracted by...other things. Also, your gay jokes, not so much with the witty.

Sorry, guess I just wanted to distract everybody from the fact that I almost was killed by my date...again. And had to be saved by Buffy and Spike and, I think, Principal Wood...all very humiliating.

It's all right, I'll let it slide this once. She smiled warmly and took his hand. Come on, let's go check out that gash. I think the bathroom's free. Everyone else has gone to bed.

He followed her up the stairs slowly, both for stealth and because every step pulled on the edges of his wound. Willow, meanwhile, had pulled out the industrial sized first aid kit and set it on the counter, setting out the items she thought she would need the in order of usage. He sat down on the toilet seat and took his coat off, throwing it across the room and onto the floor. I'll pick that up when we're done.

Moving slowly, Willow started to unravel the makeshift bandage around Xander's waist, peeling it away where it had started to stick on the edges of his injury. He looked down and looked away quickly, fighting back the nausea as he saw what he had let happen to his body. It was a ragged cut about two inches long that had stopped bleeding, but it was deep and already inflamed around the edges. he said quietly.

This is pretty bad, Xander. Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital? Your car's here; I could drive. Willow's face had turned almost as white as Xander's, but she eyed the gash intently, not looking away.

Nah, it's not that deep. That protective layer of fat you were all joking about last year...not so funny now, is it? Why, my love for snack foods saved my life. He hissed as she cleaned the gash with disinfectant, closing his eyes tight against the sting. Okay, that hurts.

Sorry, but you don't want it to get infected. Ooh, after I get this clean, I've got this new dermabond stuff...it's just like super glue, except it's for skin! No stitches for you, cause we've got glue. Hey, that rhymes! She giggled and then caught herself. Okay, I'm a little punchy, but it's three in the morning, so what'd you expect. She finished cleaning the wound and dug around the giant kit for the dermabond, reading the instructions before cracking open the tube and starting to mend his flesh. How'd she get you down in the school basement anyway?

Oh, you know. Offered me sex if I'd be her willing minion, something like that. He grinned at Willow's chagrined expression. I don't really know. I mean, first we were walking out to the car and I thought we were going bowling and then I woke up in a heap on the basement floor. That's when I paged you. Then she took my shirt and the bondage non-fun began.

Xander couldn't draw his eyes away from Willow's handiwork. She'd finished closing the injury and only a pencil thin redline remained. Well, aside from the red inflamed flesh that surrounded his gut wound. Wow...that's kind of cool. He tried to hide his grimace as he shifted to get a closer look. Willow shot him a disapproving glare as she reached for his shoulder to steady him. Okay, won't try that again.

No, I don't think you will, Mister. And I'm not just talking about trying to stand up on your own after losing a significant portion of your blood volume...I..I don't want you getting hurt, Xander. I don't know if I...if I could deal with...well...with that. I need you around, okay? He nodded as she squeezed his shoulder and stood up before reaching out to lend him a hand. Let's get you to bed...I think tonight you should sleep with me in the big bed.

Ooh, the big bed! What are the girls going to think? Hey...where's Kennedy going to sleep? He let her do most of the pulling as he stood up on wobbly legs. Is she banished to the floor? He turned to grin and felt her tense at his joking words.

We're not sleeping together, okay? She isn't...she...I don't think about that yet, alright? And anyway, I don't see how that's your business. They made their way out of the bathroom and started towards the room in question, the moment broken between the two old friends.

Oh...sorry, Will. I didn't mean...I just thought with the hand holding... He trailed off. Um...do you have an alarm clock in there? I have work early tomorrow and there's no way I'm getting up on my own.

What?! Xander, you can't go to work! You can barely stand. Willow stopped suddenly and spun around to face him, her face a mixture of disbelief and disapproval. Besides, you'd only get about three hours sleep. You need to call in sick.

He sighed, knowing his weak explanation would make little sense to her. I don't have anymore sick days...used em all up during the tiny terror siege...besides, I have to set a good example for my crew...show em that, even on the hellmouth, a solid work ethic is important.

No. You can't go. I don't want to see you hurt worse just because you're stubborn. She had her resolve face on, never a good sign. Besides, it's not like the world's going to end if you don't go to work.

He swallowed hard, reacting to the implications of her words. No. No, I guess not. Maybe the world won't end, but I'm not going to find out, because I'm going to work tomorrow. He wrenched himself out of her loose grip and turned back to the stairs. I'll be on the couch; I don't want to wake you in the morning. It's been a long night. With that he slowly made his way to the stairwell and started down the stairs.

Behind him, he heard her calling out softly,but he did not turn. He didn't stop until he reached the couch, sinking into the soft cushions and shifting until he found the perfect position with the least amount of pain. He didn't know why he'd reacted to Willow that way, but it was too hard to think of it now...it was too hard to think of anything; to keep his eyes open. But with his eyes closed he could see it; still see the seal with his blood dripping slowly into the cracks and crevices.

He opened his eyes and stared at the blank expanse of ceiling for a long time.