New Year's Resolutions:
part six
by Josie_h
Notes
TURNING POINT
Still caught in his own thoughts regards the poem and love lost, Spike
suddenly realized the implications of being identified by the person he was
facing, and reeled back as if scorched. He knew that he had no explanation for
his return to this plane! Let alone the idea that he had not contacted ‘loved
ones’? It smacked of Angelus’ denial of his childe William post soul. And
yet….
Already emotional from the powerful and painful memories the poem had
evoked, it was all Spike could do to cough in a vague indication of disbelief
as the single deep brown eye and patch of leather met his gaze barely three
feet away.
In a self protective and quite instinctive response, Spike, with tears
still streaming down his
cheeks (fault of his beloved Byron!), wrapped his arms around himself in
a vain attempt to shield his inner core from the outside world and prevent the
predictable ‘meltdown’. He slung his left arm around his torso, and grabbed his
own hair with the other hand, masking his face to all but the man that had
elicited the reaction. Barely containing the urgent need to run from the
moment, it was all he could do to struggle out a strangled “Ohhh Hell, Yeah, S’me
”.
Xander on the other hand, had only been vaguely aware of the words woven into
the rather moving (and as it turned out, personally touching) poetry. Instead
Xander focused on the azure stare no longer fixed on the stage but on him,
noting with some surprise that there were glistening trails adorning the
cheekbones he had so often dreamed of seeing again. The tear streaked alabaster
skin and Spike’s protective self hug then near collapse ‘flicked a switch’ for
Xander.
With no further thought, he launched himself forward to collect the
collapsing figure in a safe embrace, miscalculated a little, and consequently,
found himself kneeling on the grass with the, now quietly keening, ‘lost’
friend in his arms.
“Sshhhhh,
I’ve got you,
I’ve got you….
Oh God Spike?!
How?
When?.......
I’ve still got your rings….. remember?!.....
I kept them safe like I promised”
Tears began streaming from the ‘good eye’, while Xander pulled the man
closer to him.
“Ohhhh please!!!......
Please!!!
I know it’s you!
I lost you!
I lost you?
Oh Jeez..
How?
How?
Oh God, Spike.
I’ve missed you so much?
I lost you
You were dead
There was the end and you were dead
Oh God……..”
As Xander ended the one sided conversation, he gave in to his own
sobbing, then instinctively opted for a gentle progression of kisses across
‘armed’ forehead, and in the process quietly removed the protective limb from
its position over the man’s head to reveal, then cup, the chiseled chin with
his left hand, and lifted the unforgettably beautiful face. Their foreheads
connected and he stroked the long missed cheekbones with his thumb.
As he touched and caressed the man he had mourned for, for so long, the
eloquent words he had composed to say to his friend and comrade,
post apocalypse, simply evaporated.
Lifting the pale chin, he gave a husky, tear burdened “Hey” then
automatically shifted to kiss a surprisingly pliant mouth. As they connected
lips for the first time in almost a decade, he instinctively wound his right
arm around the great coat and pulled their bodies together.
Eventually they both became aware of their position – very public, and
mid city park. But
the good citizens of Boston (and no doubt, a bunch of other places) had
apparently done them the courtesy of moving a discrete distance away.
In a single, somewhat coordinated movement, they both rose to stand
without breaking their embrace.
And just as Xander began to feel a little self conscious at his emotional
display, a calm hand touched his shoulder and he registered the owner’s kind
words, “Son, don’t you ever let go ‘o that boy…. I lost John to a damned gook
shot in ’71…Should o bin me!….You got your friend back……don’t you *never* let him go!” Xander looked
up to watch tears track down the face of a man old enough to be his own father
(or even older) sharing in a tight hug with a stout woman, obviously his
partner, as though their very existence relied upon it.
Spike must have heard also, as it was his tear thickened, husky answer
that elicited a smile from the concerned couple, “’S bin eight som’t years, but
what you said mate, ‘n worth every minute of the wait.” And with that, the
vampire recaptured Xander’s lips in a final swift kiss, then hauled them up and away from the open space.
Now slightly hidden from the audience by a 'leaf-challenged' oak, Spike turned to the man whose hand he still held and inquired, "Bloody hell... so wh
at now pet?"