"NO!! I'm not going. I don't want to be analyzed, Giles," Xander's muffled voice told the librarian for the third time.
The boy had been living with the older man for a little over two weeks now. They got along pretty well so far. Other than the messiness of Xander and the slight sexual tension, Giles didn't mind having him around. It was nice to have someone to come home to. He had been living alone for far too long. Except for when Xander got stubborn about something. Just the other evening the two had gotten in a small tiff about whose turn it was to wash the dishes. Even though, Giles knew that he had done them the other night, he conceeded with the young man. He hadn't the patience to fight with him. Now, he was being even more stubborn, but this was something Giles was not going to budge on.
"Xander, just think of it this way, the sooner you get it over with the sooner.... it will be over with. Your going to have to go sooner or later. Might as well get it over with now," Oz tried to convince him. He was standing behind Giles with a small hand on the larger man's shoulder. He could see how much this was upsetting Giles.
Ever since the day Xander had cried his eyes out in Oz's arms, the boy had been there. Hovering around, offering him comfort in the silent way he had. They had become closer over the last two weeks. Hanging out at the Bronze together, palling around at school. Oz knew that something that Xander needed was a male friend, someone he could talk to about guy things. He was more than willing to be that friend. He was also a cover. Willow and Buffy still didn't know that Xander was living at Giles' house. He wondered how long it would be until they figured it out. Why hadn't they called Xander's house and heard from one of his parents that he was no longer living there. It troubled Oz greatly that his girlfriend was neglecting her best friend and he meant to have a talk with her about it soon.
Oz still didn't know how far Xander's parents' abuse of him went. He figured it had to be something serious, but every time Oz brought it up, Xander avoided the questions. That was fine by Oz. If Xander needed time, he would have it.
"No, I don't ever have to go," Xander told him through the door. "Look, it's just not for me, okay?"
"Xander, if you can't talk to us about it, you have to talk to someone about it. Dr. Karls is highly recommended for this sort of case," Giles rationalized. "Please, open the door."
"Screw Dr. Karls. She's probably some sort of crackpot who gets off on hearing about other people's problems," Xander said. He sat on the tile floor of the bathroom with his back against the door. He had thought he could do this when he promised Giles that he'd get therapy. He had been wrong. It was just too hard.
"GODDAMNIT!! IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS BLOODY DOOR THIS BLOODY SECOND, I'M GOING TO BREAK IT DOWN!! XANDER!!" Xander jumped when Giles pounded on the door behind him. He had only heard Giles that upset once. At that time he had automattically felt remorseful of his stupid words, but he had not backed down. He knew now that he should have and that he should do so right now.
"Giles, please try to calm down," Xander heard Oz's quiet voice soothing his new benefactor. "This isn't what he needs right now."
"I'm at my wit's end, Oz. Do you even know how long he was locked in there before you showed up? An hour. I don't know what else to do," Giles explained. Xander winced at the defeated tone of Giles' voice. He didn't want to hurt Giles over his stubborn pride. How hard would it be really? He didn't have to say anything if he didn't want to.
Groaning with reluctance, Xander stood and turned to the mirror. He looked awful. His eyes were red from the crying he'd been doing, and his chest hurt from the task of trying to keep his sobs down so that Giles couldn't hear them. He turned on the cool water tap and splashed his face a couple times. Satisfied that he looked almost presentable, Xander unlocked the door and opened it.
The two men that were leaning on the opposite wall of the hallway both looked up in surprise. Giles put his spectacles back on and looked expectantly at the tired looking boy in front of him. "Here's the deal, Giles. I'll go, but I can't promise that I'll say anything," Xander said quietly.
"That's all that I ask," Giles answered hopefully.
Xander nodded and headed to Giles' study, which had recently been made into a make-shift bedroom for him. Sitting down on the fold-out sofa bed, Xander started putting on his shoes. "I'll tell ya what," Giles said from his door frame. "Afterwards, I'll take you out for some ice cream if your a good boy."
Xander chuckled mirthlessly and turned to face the man behind him. "No offense, Giles, but I'd rather you didn't try to adopt the surrogate parent role with me. Neither of us may acknowledge it much, but we both know that's not the way I think of you."
Giles was taken aback by Xander's forward comment. They had never before talked about the nature of their relationship. They had been avoiding it since the first night Xander had been there and they had shared that heated kiss. Giles opened his mouth to reply, but he was suddenly cut off by the entrance of Oz. "Hey, you guys ready to go?" Oz asked and held his keys up to jingle them expectantly.
"Yeah," Xander said and stood and rocked on his heels. "Hey, Oz. Did ya hear. If we're good we get ice cream afterward," Xander added in a mockingly cheerful voice and walked passed him to the staircase.
When he was out of sight, Oz leaned closer and asked Giles in a quiet voice; "You don't think it's too soon?"
"No, it's time he's dealt with his problems," Giles said and nodded sharply, looking more like he was trying to convince himself then he was Oz.
Xander shifted uncomfortably, still standing next to the door as though he was considering to run straight back out. Dr. Karls, Xander's new psychiatrist turned to face him, cocking her head to the side. "Please, Xander, have a seat. I promise not to bite you," she added with a small smile.
"That's a relief. That can get pretty tiresome," Xander mumbled just barely loud enough for her to hear him. He waited a couple of seconds before complying with her request, taking up a plush chair that directly faced her desk.
Now that her guest, or patient (she didn't like the term patient) was seated, Dr. Karls also took her seat behind the wide oak desk. Neither of them chose to speak right away, both sizing the other up in their own ways.
Sitting quietly, Xander's leg was bouncing at an amazing speed, that's how nervous he was. He took the moment of silence to check his new doctor out. She was an older woman, probably somewhere in her late fifties. She looked like she might have been rather attractive when she was younger, but the years were certainly beginning to catch up with her. Her figure was no longer girlish, looking like she might be about thirty pounds overweight. To Xander's surprise she was dressed rather casually in a loose white blouse and a pair of khaki slacks. When his eyes met with hers, Xander tried to glare, but found it impossible when he saw the personable glimmer in her eye, so instead he chose to turn away from her stare.
His attention did not go to the degrees on her walls, like most guests' did. Instead he looked at the pictures of her grandchildren sitting on her lap. Of course, Dr. Karls did not miss the sad, wistful gleam that passed through Xander's eyes. Also, his eyes wandered over to the little water game she had perched at the corner of her desk. Xander couldn't remember what they were called, but he vividly remembered playing with them over at Willow's as a small boy. It was the kind where you would push the little white button and try to float the little multi-colored hoops onto the translucent pegs. Xander got the sudden urge to pick the game up and have a go at it, but ignored that impulse.
And while Xander made his own observations, Dr. Karls made a few observations of her own. She had been able to tell from the moment she shook hands with the young man before her that he was not happy to be there. From the way he held himself, she knew he was a proud man (she chose to think of all males over the age of sixteen as men) and the trip to visit her did little for his fragile ego. She said fragile because, although his posture was straight with the pride she'd noticed before, he was also quite awkward.
Dr. Karls believed that there were two ways you could tell a lot about a person just by looking at them. One was body language. That, she had already covered. The second was the eyes. She held firmly to the belief that eyes were the windows to the soul. Alexander Harris had two of the most expressive, brown eyes that she had ever seen. In the short time she had known him, she had seen a play of many emotions in his eyes. Melancholy, pride, so much of that, defiance, and an underlying intelligence.
"Xander," Dr. Karls was the first to break the silence, naturally. "How old are you?"
"Eighteen," he answered automatically, almost mechanically.
"Really, my youngest boy is eighteen. He plays basketball for Fern's Brook. Do you like to play basketball?"
"Uh, I guess. I'm not that good at it," Xander responded.
"Yes, well, neither is my son, but we've got to encourage him, you know. Are there any sports you do like to play?" she asked.
Xander looked slightly confused. Weren't shrinks supposed to ask a lot of embarrassing questions about your private life? Xander knew what she was doing. She was making small talk, trying to make him comfortable. Then, when he least expected it, WHAM! She'd pull out the big guns. Start asking questions like; "Do your parents beat you? Have you ever been sexually abused? Does Daddy like to dress in Mommy's clothes?" Well, Xander was having none of it. He knew her game and he wasn't going to play it.
"No," he said brusquely. "I'm not much for sports."
"Really? Well, I bet you're an artist, aren't you? You have that slightly mysterious, artsy look to you. Do you paint?"
"No, no painting either," his words came out sharply.
"You don't? You should try it sometime. It's the most calming thing. I paint. See that painting on that wall?" She pointed. "That's one of mine. Do you like it? Be truthful with me. I can take honest criticism."
Xander stared back at her, his mouth agape. Boy, if this woman wasn't a chatterbox. Couldn't she just get on with it so that Xander could hurry up and inform her that he didn't want a therapist and be done with it? "Yeah, it's nice. It's a nice painting."
Dr. Karls laughed. It was a melodious, girlish sound. Xander thought it would have better suited and eighteen year old girl. "It's a paint by number. I bet you couldn't even tell, huh?" Xander was flabbergasted.
Giles flipped quickly through the tattered People magazine, not really looking at the pages, just fluttering it basically. Tossing the magazine that had the little Titanic twerp on it back on the end table, Giles pushed himself out of his chair for the third time since that door had closed behind Xander. He paced anxiously, turning his back on the door and then staring at it expectantly each time he made another turn. He looked down at his watch. "It's been forty-five minutes. What do you suppose they're talking about?" he asked.
"Don't know," Oz said simply, not even glancing up from the Wall Street Journal he was reading.
"Or do you suppose they're even talking at all? Xander may be being stubborn again. Refusing to talk," Giles guessed.
"Maybe."
"Oh, for goodness sake, would it hurt you to complete a sentence once in a while, man?!" Giles cried in frustration.
"It's certainly possible."
Giles huffed and flopped back down into his seat.
"You haven't?!" Dr. Karls cried. "Oh, you simply must try it. It's the biggest rush. At first, I was scared. I kept thinking, "What if the cord comes unattached and I hit the water? From eighty feet up that would hurt a lot!" But I just took a deep breath, closed my eyes and jumped. I loved it. It felt like I was flying. Of course, I can't do it anymore on account of my bad back--"
Xander's mouth gaped open when he heard that eerie theme for the Twilight Zone. Dodo-dodo-dodo-dodo-dodo-dodo. Cold shivers ran down his back. Was he in an episode of that show? At this point he really didn't doubt it much.
"Oh!" Dr. Karl's cried out and hit the button on the top of her black box timer. The creepy tune stopped. "Where does the time go? Looks like your hour's up, Xander." She stood and Xander followed her lead. She took his hand and lead him over to the door.
Xander jumped when she suddenly slapped herself in the forehead. "Gosh, I feel like such a ninny. Here I spent the whole session babbling on about myself. Well, next week you can tell me a little about you. See you then, Xander." Then she opened the door and ushered him out. "Bye now," she said before closing the door.
Xander blinked, but smiled broadly. That was surprisingly painless.
Giles jumped up from his seat when he saw Xander swaggering towards them. "How did it go?" he questioned immediately.
"I think it went well. She seems to have conquered her fear of talking openly to strange people. I think my job here is done," Xander grinned and blew air across his fingernails before buffing them on his shirt.
"Done? So, is that to mean that you're not planning on coming back? Please, Xander, do give it another chance," Giles pleaded hastily.
"Iiiiii don't know, Giles," Xander drawled out teasingly.
"You're toying with me, aren't you?" Giles said, catching the mischievous glint in Xander's eye. He was answered with a smirk. "Then you'll be coming back?" Giles a he followed Xander out of the lobby.
"Mmm, if you really want me to," Xander said, still not sounding thrilled, but not protesting, so that was good enough for Giles.
Quietly, Oz set down his Wall Street Journal and followed behind the other two men.
End