***
Late night vignette
c 1999 Angelia Sparrow
***
 

"Xander wake up!"

"What?"  The young man pried one eye open to see his lover thrusting a wailing baby at him.
Xavier Harris' sleeper was blue from the waist up and yellow to the toes.

"Eww, Deadboy, you couldn't change him?"

"Xand, he's burning up."

"We all feel hot to you.  You're dead and cold," Xander grumped, stretching out his hand and
feeling Xavy's forehead.  The baby sobbed.  "He's like a blast furnace.  What's his temperature?
Where's the tylenol?"

"Quit babbling, idiot and run a lukewarm tub.  I'll clean him up and take his temperature."
Xavy let his displeasure be known by regurgitating four ounces of Enfamil (slightly curdled) on
Angelus' bare chest.

Xander was out of bed in a shot, and had the tub going when Angelus and Xavy arrived in the
bathroom.  The baby's sleeper and full diaper were discarded to be dealt with later.  Before
Xander put the plug in, Angelus held the boy's bottom and legs under the running water.  Xavy
wailed.

Once clean, Xander diapered his son, and put him in a fresh sleeper while Angelus bagged the
diaper, cleaned himself and rinsed the messy sleeper.

"Deadboy, he has a fever of 104," Xander sounded panicky.  Angelus handed him a dropper of
tylenol, and he fed it to the baby.  Xander sat in the glider rocker and rocked him, trying to
soothe the fretful child.  The wails became whimpers as Xavy curled into his father's chest
soothed by the heartbeat.

Fifteen minutes later, Xander took the temperature again.  "102.  Better, but still high."

"Another fifteen, hon.  Then we'll check him again."  Angelus turned on the TV, set it to a light
music station, and dimmed the lights.  Xander rocked.  Angelus paced.  Xavy whimpered in a
lethargic way that was more distressing than actual crying.

"Love, it's spiked up again," Xander said ten minutes later.  The underarm temperature was back
to 104, putting actual temp at 105.  Xavy interrupted the preparations for the emergency room by
filling the sleeper again.

They cleaned the baby, and Xander drove to the hospital.  It was too close to dawn for Angelus
to go with him.  At 4 AM the emergency room was reasonably quiet.  The triage nurse asked for
symptoms and temperature.  Angelus, always level headed, had written it all down: time,
temperature, and all.  He paid cash for the visit, ensuring they would get seen quickly.

The doctor was a pleasant Indian woman, who comforted Xavy, listened to the worried father
and checked the baby very thoroughly.  "Ear infection, tonsilitis and teething.  You have your
hands full," she smiled.

"What can we do?"  Xander asked.

"You and Xavier's mother can keep him comfortable with tylenol.  Keep him clean.  Has he
eaten?"

"No, he took a two AM bottle, but vomited it on his Papa."  The doctor raised an eyebrow since
it was not said in the usual joking way parents used when referring to themselves in third person.

"If he doesn't eat by 10, call back.  We may have to admit him so he doesn't become
dehydrated.  It is very unusual for fathers to come in.  Is his mother ill, too?"

"My partner, Angelus, is porphyric.  He does not go out by day."  Xander had learned to lie early
and often about his lover's condition, but he never did about their relationship.

The doctor's other eyebrow went up.  "May I pry?  Which of you is the biological father?
Porphyria is rare and genetically transmitted."

"I am.  Will Xavier be okay?"

"He should.  Here is an antibiotic.  We don't like to prescribe if we don't have to, but with both
ear and throat infected, we need to make sure he doesn't lose his hearing.  Call back if he
doesn't eat."

Xander drove home with the sleeping infant, after filling the prescription at the hospital.
Angelus was still pacing, worried.  He rushed to the door, heedless of the sunlight.

"The doctor says he'll be fine.  Warm up a bottle, and let's see if he'll eat.  He needs to take an
antibiotic, and if he doesn't eat we have to take him back for an IV."

Angelus heated the bottle, and Xavy reached for it hungrily.  He took the baby, and settled in to
rock him back to sleep.  Xavier drained the bottle and gave the hungry cry.  Xander fixed a
second, half-size, while Angelus burped him.

"Uh, Xand?" came the call from the front room.  "Bring a clean shirt and the upholstery cleaner,
will you?"

Xander carried all the items back into the front room.  He took the baby and fed the second
bottle while Angelus cleaned himself and the chair again.  Xavy burped without incident, took
his medicine, and let himself be rocked to sleep.

Xander put the sleeping baby to bed and returned to the front room.  "Deadboy, I'm blowing
classes for the day.  I'm beat.  Told the doctor you were porphyric.  That story usually works.
And this is California, so gay wasn't a big issue."

Angelus yawned hugely.  "I'm tired too.  Let's call it a day."

They set the baby monitor to pick up the soft snores from the crib and curled into the leather
sheets.  The mansion on Crawford Street resounded with snores as the rest of the street began its
day.
 

*end*