Another day, maybe

Xander walked into Seattle Grace Hospital and headed for the surgery wing. He was here to get a glass eye. After the third time being arrested in Africa and after the fifth being detained at an airport for ’looking suspicious,’ he decided enough was enough. Sure the eye-patch helped deter other sorts of people from bothering him, absolutely nothing, nothing was worth sitting in a dirt floor cell with nothing but a hole in the ground. More importantly, nothing was worth dealing with airport security in an American airport, if you could avoid it. And he could.

The Council was paying for this lovely bit of plastic surgery, which Xander thought was rather fitting. Willow had even gifted him with an easy spell to give his new, fake eye depth perception. This gave Xander a happy. Sure, he was still of the sight impaired and lacking in peripheral vision department but depth perception would be freaking awesome.

Xander was just strolling into the surgery wing when two women walked quickly by him, only to stop abruptly. One was waving her arms around and yelling ‘seriously’ a lot. Xander was pretty sure that she had used up her quota for that word for the entire year by the time she wound down. The other woman simply watched her, said ‘whatever,’ and walked away. Odd, but really not that odd. Xander stopped short as he fully entered the floor, since people were yelling everywhere and generally being super intense. He shuddered, horrible memories of Christmas with his parent dancing in his mind, turning on his heel, he walked right out again. Another day, maybe.

The Patient

“The patient is Alexander Harris, here to receive an ocular prosthesis of porous polyethylene in the left eye. The left eye was lost approximately three years ago in a construction accident. The damaged tissue was removed and the optical nerve cauterized. The muscle and tissue have some degeneration so motility of the prosthesis may not be optimal,” Xander remembered this doctor from his first visit. Her deadpan and emotionless delivery was a little frightening, which Xander found strangely comforting. He’d had enough false smiles to last a lifetime.

“Thank you, Dr. Yang. Mr. Harris’s surgery is scheduled in about three hours…” the doctor paused, as Xander had stuck his hand up.

“Um, could you just call me Xander? ‘Harris,’ surprisingly is the least favourite part of my name. Considering that my middle name is Lavelle, that should be enough said. Oh, um, and can you not tell anyone that my middle name is Lavelle. Not the most manly of names and I usually try to never tell anyone, but I’m a little nervous about this whole surgery thing. Really hate hospitals. I was also wondering if there are gonna be any new scars? I don’t mind so much, but I already have tons of scars and scars on my face might not solve one of the problems I hope to solve by getting me a glass eye.” Xander trailed off as he realized that the two (super hot) doctors were just staring at him.

“Lavelle? Seriously? That really is a bad middle name. Not to worry, Xander. We’re not going to tell anyone and you won’t have any new scars. You see these hands?” Said hands were brandished for Xander’s inspection, “These hands don’t leave scars. If you have any further questions Dr. Yang will be happy to answer them,” and Xander’s doctor was heading out the door.

“Hey! Wait! I don’t know your name. You might be ridiculously hot and whatever, but I lost my appreciation for hot and mysterious a really long time ago.”

The doctor stopped and turned. A smirk worthy of Spike turning his lips up. He crossed his buff arms over his buff chest and simply said, “Mark Sloan.”

Questions

“I’m pretty sure that I want this new eye, ‘cause being stuffed into a jail cell for looking weird in certain parts of Africa is not of the good. Don’t let me even get started about airport security in this country. May I just ask why they have such big hands? How long will it take me to recover from this? How real will this glass eye look? Am I going to have that really creepy lazy eye thing going on?” Xander looked expectantly at Dr. Yang.

She simply sighed and continued doing her doctorly activities.

“Um, Dr. Yang? Dr. Sloan said you’d be happy to answer my questions?”

“Look, your surgery is lame. I could be scrubbing in on a valve replacement but instead I’m doing your prosthesis. You think a prosthetic could look any stupider than that eye patch? Seriously?” Xander was impressed, he hadn’t ever been put down so harshly in such a bored and disinterested tone of voice (Cordelia has always had a lot of fire and bite to her insults). He immediately relaxed. His super awesome and competent doctor thought the surgery was boring. Nothing to worry about, then.

“Thanks, Dr. Yang! I feel so much better now. I’m sorry you have to do my boring surgery but I’m really, really happy that you’ll be there. You are, like, the most awesome doctor I’ve ever met,” Xander beamed widely.

Christina was taken aback. First, she thought that (what was his name again?) was being sarcastic. But looking into his earnest eye, she realized he was completely serious. A niggling feeling of horror began to form.

“Do not, now or after the surgery, attempt to hug me. I won’t be responsible for my actions if you do,” and Xander was treated to her first expression, a fairly deadly glare.

He only smiled wider and gave her a thumbs up. She sighed and stomped out of the room.

Checking In

“Xander, we’re just getting ready to prep you for surgery and I wanted to check in on you. Still feeling nervous about the procedure?” the ridiculously hot Dr. Sloan was back (and still ridiculously hot).

“Nah, feeling fine about it now. Asked Dr. Yang a bunch of questions and she made me feel of the good about it all. I’m good,” Xander smiled broadly, thinking of his Q and A session with Dr. Yang. She was freaking awesome.

“Dr. Yang comforted you? Eased your anxieties? Seriously?”

“Seriously. And can I say that you guys say seriously a lot? Although, I suppose everyone here is so hot they can pretty much do whatever they want and not a person will complain. Um, can we modify that statement to all the women here are so hot that no one will complain? Um, wait, or maybe just strike the conversation entirely from the record?” Xander looked up, eyes full of hope, at Dr. Sloan. Who simply smirked and looked at him with eyes like lasers.

“Now, Xander, I don’t think you want me to start forgetting things just as I’m about to operate on you, do you? Now, I got a policy about sleeping with patients, so we’re gonna wait until after your surgery, post-op check up, and your one month check-up to have sex. Deal?” Mark didn’t often sleep with guys, but with everything going on with Addison and Derek, he just wanted some fun. Guys were usually good for that. And Xander, even if he had goofy looking ears, was just the right kind of rough. Mark liked his women beautiful and his men rough. As they say, variety is the spice of life.

“Deal. Er, I mean, I’m not that kind of girl. Or I wouldn’t be if, you know, I were a girl. Which I’m not. Either way, don’t I at least get dinner first? Wait! I don’t date guys, all about the boobies here!” Xander had turned an interesting shade of red and his heart monitor was beeping like crazy.

“Oh, we have a deal. Dinner, then sex,” Dr. Sloan smirked and leaned in, real close, “you’ve mentioned that I’m hot twice now. Maybe you’ve never been with a guy before. That’s okay. Lots of bullshit out there about how it ain’t right or manly. You see me? I’m all man and sometimes I like a man now and then. No big deal. I’ll be real, real gentle and you won’t regret it,” one last smirk and he was out the door.

Xander, still blushing like a stop sign, only swallowed and shivered at the feel of that rough voice whispering in his ear.

One Month Later

Xander was back at Seattle Grace for his one-month-post-surgery check up. He was going to see Dr. Sloan again. He had agreed to have dinner, then sex with this man. He was very, very nervous.

He walked onto the surgical floor and spotted Dr. Yang straight away. Smiling, he snuck up on her and yelled, “Pug!” (trans: Pounce + Hug = a Pug). He enveloped her in his arms and spun her around. She responded by kneeing him in the balls.

As he was writhing in agony on the floor, she simply said, “I told you I wouldn’t be responsible.”

Sometime later, when the Chief of Surgery was questioning him about the incident, he took all responsibility for it and apologized profusely: he really had been warned.

Coincidentally, he was Dr. Sloan’s last patient of the day (‘call me Mark’). Okay, so Mark’s last patient of the day. This meant that before he knew it, he was being shuffled off to have dinner. Xander wasn’t quite sure how this happened. One minute his was looking into Mark’s eyes and the next they were sitting down to dinner. Xander blinked again and they were at his hotel and Mark was drawing him closer for a kiss. The solid feeling of Mark’s arms around him, of his chest against his chest, and Xander’s (almost non-existent) resolve melted.

In the early morning light, when Mark’s eyes were luminous, Xander reflected that Mark had made good on his word. He had been incredibly gentle. More gentle than most of the women Xander had been with. The experience had been…indescribable. And Xander didn’t know where to go from here.

But looking at the pale light illuminating Mark’s eyes, he realized he wasn’t quite ready to go and got back into bed. Mark smirked.