Author's Notes: This chapter has been significantly edited to keep the rating low. The original version can be found on my website.
Chapter 12: When it comes, it comes unannounced like a matador who's taunting me with his reddest red cloak and I am the bull.
He held the black composition book, cardboard edges frayed and pages wrinkled from use. Spike flipped through it, reading the poems filling the pages, every line bringing back memories of Xander's face, Xander's smile, moments spent in Xander's company. There was a knock on the door and Spike's eyes glanced up towards the door. He quickly slid the book of poems under the cushion of the couch, before going to open the door. "Hey Xander."
"I went by the bookstore, but Buffy said you'd gotten off early. Is everything all right?" Xander asked with a hint of worry.
"Yeah, everything's fine." Spike said, his hand automatically going to his right pocket to touch the letter there, and he debated again how and when to tell Xan the truth. Wimping out yet again, he grabbed his jacket. "Wanna go somewhere?"
Xander still looked worried, but he wasn't going to push. "Sure."
"""
It'd been yesterday that the weird guy, Lorne, had been in the store, but Spike couldn't stop himself from brooding over the man's advice. He wanted to tell Xan the truth, but he had no idea how to even begin. He knew Xan would be angry about him keeping it secret, but every day it became harder and harder to imagine telling Xan. Around noon his manager, Willow, came by to check on things. "So, how's it going?" she asked, strangely perky.
"Fine." Spike warily replied.
"Congrats on the letter."
"Thanks." His fingertips touched the letter that he'd been carrying around since he received it a week ago, inviting him to be part of the annual Barnes & Noble New Authors Book Signing. The letter was starting to get worn around the edges, but Spike couldn't stop carrying it around - he was half afraid that it might just blink out of existence if he didn't touch it every so often.
"I heard a rumor that they want to put out another book of your poems soon, since your first one's doing so well."
"That would be cool." Spike said, thinking about the collection of poems he'd written for Xander.
Willow noticed how distracted Spike was. "Hey, why don't you take the rest of the day off? The book signing's tomorrow, and so it's natural you'd be stressed. Go home and relax, okay?"
Spike felt a little guilty for leaving early, but his mind really wasn't on the job. "You sure?"
Willow nodded. "Yeah. It's pretty slow today, and you look like you could use some time to yourself."
So he'd gone home and moped, considering and rejecting dozens of different ways to tell Xander the truth, and finally coming up with nothing.
"""
"Why do you like coming to the park so much? You work here everyday, I'd've thought you'd be sick of this place by now." Spike commented as they walked down one of the paths.
Xander pondered that for a moment. "I don't know. It's just, nothing's the same. It's always changing, so I can't get tired of it. I mean..." he gestured at nothing in particular. "What do you see?"
Spike took a good look around. "Trees. Grass. People. Pond. Stage. Same as every other bloody day. Why? What do you see?"
Xander looked around, trying to put his thoughts into words. "I see... everything. Over there," he pointed to a large tree where a couple were kissing, "They come around pretty often, and last week he proposed to her right at that spot. I see every performance that's been on that stage in the last few years, every missed line and prop mishap, every costume and choreographic move. I see that spot by the pond in the reeds where a mother goose walked past last spring with eight little gray goslings in a line behind her. I see the way the trees change colors every day, and the places where the leaves collect for children to play in and mothers to pick and choose materials for wreaths. I see the cardinal that's been hanging around for the last few weeks with its mate. I see different people every day: meeting someone new, spending time with someone old, or just relaxing in the park. I see the wind grow colder and the people start wearing jackets and I can see how the snow will pile up when winter begins." He spun away from Spike, arms outstretched to encompass the magnitude of the park. "Every day I come here I see something different, something that has changed, and that's why I don't get tired of coming here."
Spike watched Xander, awed by his passion. "I stand corrected."
Xander smiled at Spike, stepping closer. "You most certainly do." he reached out and pulled Spike close, running his tongue along Spike's lower lip. Spike's mouth opened and he sucked Xander's tongue inside, swirling his own tongue around it. Spike moaned, pressing closer as Xander's hands began to roam. Xander slipped one hand ever so smoothly into Spike's pocket, plucking out the letter that he'd noticed Spike touching every so often. Curiousness had gotten the best of him and he'd decided to find out what it was that was distracting Spike so. He broke the kiss with a grin, dancing out of Spike's arms before he realized he'd been pickpocketed. "What's this?" he asked, beginning to open the letter.
Spike panicked. The letter was addressed to William Barstow, and if Xander saw if, he'd figure it out... "Give it back." he said, trying to snatch it from Xander's hand, but Xan jumped out of his reach.
"You want it so much, come and get it." he said mischievously, then turned and ran. Spike took off in hot pursuit. Xander laughed as he ran, jumping over roots and dodging around trees, but Spike was faster and managed to tackle him after a few minutes, snatching the letter out of Xander's hands. Spike held the letter in both his hands as high over his head as he could, Xander's hands trying to pry away his death grip from the slip of paper. They rolled across the grass, slowing to a stop with Xander on top, half straddling Spike. Their legs were tangled together and the rest of their bodies were pressed against the other. Spike's arms were still stretched over his head with Xander's hands on top of his, effectively pinning him down in this position. Xander admired the flush staining Spike's face and neck a dark red, even as they both panted for breath.
Xander leaned down, nipping Spike's earlobe, "You got any plans for tonight?"
Spike shuddered. "Not really. You?"
"Yeah, got a pretty good idea in mind." Xander took a firm grip on his hormones and searched Spike's face, suddenly serious. "You sure about this?" The last thing he wanted to do was push for more than Spike was willing to give.
He was relieved to see no hesitation in Spike's eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure."