Author's Notes: I have no idea where this thing is going, but people seem to like it so I'm going to try to keep updating it often. Kudos to dancinbutterfly for inspiring the poetry in this chapter, to penne4m, This Is My Alias, and Anegativegrl, who demanded more, and to everyone who's been waiting patiently for an update. Hope I don't dissapoint. Still getting back into the swing of writing again, so parts will be a bit shorter than usual. Heh. No really, I'm not kidding about the short parts. Please don't stone me.

Chapter 7: I've reached the only logical conclusion: Love ain't supposed to make sense.

The shock of this revelation forced all pretenses of actually getting work done out the window, as Xander spend the next several hours printing off every single poem Searchforeffulgence had written, rereading them with this new understanding. He opened a poem that was posted shortly after the entire Gem of Amara debacle, wondering what was so important at that time that needed to be put into words.

Too Late

I tried to run, to stay away
but longing for you drew
me back. The moment
I saw you I could tell,
you'd experienced
pleasures of the flesh.

When did it happen?
Where was I when
your innocence was
taken? You changed so much
since I last saw you, confidence
and assurance in every move.

Awareness of your body, and you knew
how to move it. God, how I wanted
you then, but the anger of being too late
to be first led me to fight, to lash out
until my protection was ripped away
and I retreated in shame again.

Holy fuck Xander though to himself, How did I miss this? Now that he knew what to look for, it was obvious that the poetry had been written by Spike. Xander could pick out certain events that had happened by reading in between the lines and comparing the dates posted. It was surreal, reading words of love and devotion and realizing Spike wrote them to him. He'd never had an inkling that Spike was interested, much less head over heels in love with him. As he opened yet another poem, this one dated a month after Buffy leapt from the tower, he wondered how he could have been so blind.

Mourning in Silence

The leader perished, the troops
try to carry on, bandage their wounds,
cover up their misery.

When the bit weeps I can hear
you comfort her, whispered words
of heaven and happiness.

Long after everyone's asleep,
your guard finally falls, the sound
of your tears shatters my heart.

I wish I could comfort you,
hold you and return the succor
you give out to them all.

You love her deeply, devoted
to her through life and in death,
and through you I love her too.

Through my fealty to you I mourn her loss
and suffer your grief, even as I rejoice
that her absence has brought us closer.

The sun was beginning to rise by the time Xander stumbled home. Spike's bedroom door was shut, and for a moment Xander pondered knocking and confronting him about the poetry. A glance at the clock revealed that he only had a handful of hours in which to get some sleep before he had to be at work, and he was still exhausted and reeling from the events of the evening, so he quietly crawled into bed and decided to confront Spike about the poetry tomorrow.

Work at the site ran late, a freak accident with a wood saw ruining a batch of lumber and raising the cost as a result of ordering more wood. The sky was darkening when Xander left, choosing to walk back to his apartment and use the time to think about what he was going home to. He passed a teenaged boy leaning against a lamppost while he was lost in his thoughts, and he was several feet away before recognition struck in. He slowly turned around, eyes widening as the boy smiled.

"Hey, Xander." the boy said, voice exactly the same as Xander remembered seven years ago.

"Jesse." Xander whispered.

"""

TBC...