How Green Becomes Wood

"He used the wrong phrase," Dark said, "he is trying to imply I was sending heartsick love letters, but a 'Dear John' letter is a breakup letter, which is not what was happening. We never discussed why we wanted to send letters to each other, it just seemed natural to."

"I think it was because we wanted to have something from each other," Daizi explained, "because we only ended things because I was moving home again, at the time it seemed permanent, and a long-distance relationship didn't seem right. But we didn't want to be seperated."
 
"I repeat what was said earlier. You two are a romance addict's dream come true," Xander said dryly.

"Yes, but it's cute," Alec smiled. He got up and started to clear off the table of empty dishes. "You two are such a strange, lovely couple."
 
"We are very happy together," Daizi replied while Dark stood to help clean up. As he did, he gave Cooger a very strong look indicating he help as well, since Daizi cooked for him, and he was around too much to have guest privileges.

"Aw, I know," Cooger said, picking up the plates, "and it's much better this way."
 
"You're too old to need a wingman, anyway," Xander told Cooger with a wink. "You're on your own there."

Alec snickered and started cleaning up the counters and table. "I don't think Cooger rolls like that. He's too... classy."

Xander and Alec glanced at each other and fought to keep from laughing at the idea of Cooger being "classy."
 
"I didn't say now, just in general," Alec giggled. "You are incredibly classy! Rusticly classy."

"Yep exactly right," Xander agreed.

Alec helped finish cleaning up the kitchen, and he and Xander wandered off to do their own things, leaving the adults to do as they pleased.
 
"My parents were lawyers, I learned all the right mannerisms!" Cooger playfully shook his fist and then went off to hang out with his friends. There wasn't really all that much to catch up on, since he was around so regularly lately, but they still valued time where they felt like the trio they used to be.
 
The twins gave them space, leaving the adults to talk amongst themselves. They eventually took themselves to bed and laid down, though neither of them felt much like sleeping yet.
 
That night, Dark did manage to sleep a little, but found himself awake in the middle of the night, and he slowly pushed himself up off the bed, being careful not to wake Daizi who was, ironically, the lighter sleeper between the two of them. In periods where Dark could sleep, it was very difficult to wake them. He stretched, then adjusted the blankets so Daizi was completely covered, then as he left the room, he paused to look down at Ivy, sleeping peacefully in her cradle at the foot of their bed, and then slipped downstairs.
 
Alec had long since fallen asleep and only an air siren could wake him up. Or if a breeze blew wrong across his face, depending on the night.

Xander had dozed lightly but couldn't fall asleep as deeply as he normally did. He'd given up after a while, so when Dark came downstairs, Xander sat on the couch watching the world through the partially open curtains of the front window. He looked back, not particularly surprised to see Dark. "The Sandman chose not to enter?"
 
Xander shrugged and turned his attention out the window. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd come watch the world sleep. Turns out, it doesn't sleep. Did you know we have a fox in the neighborhood?"
 
"I call her Rawiya." Dark said, sitting down beside him, "For a little while I put catfood out for her, but I worry about putting her in danger if she comes around when Enkidu is in the yard. He is gentle, but excitable."
 
"Yeah, probably not a good idea to get her too comfortable in a dog's territory. How do you know it's a her?" Xander asked, leaning his head on one hand as he watched the stirrings outside.
 
"I do not know," Dark answered, "but Rawiya means 'storyteller' and foxes are tricksters and very present in folklore. I thought it fit. And if the fox is a boy, I do not think he would care to be misgendered."
 
"Fair," Xander agreed with him. He fell silent for a bit, looking to see if he could spot the fox. He or she wasn't in sight right now, but maybe she'd come back in a while. "Everyone else is sleeping okay?"
 
He nodded, also watching out the window, "Ivy and Daizi both are. Thankfully. Some nights it is still touch and go. Enkidu stirred a little, but he would never choose to follow me over keeping an eye on them. You would know if Alec is."
 
Xander grunted quietly. "You're a really weird, obsessive dad." He brushed one hand over his face to pull the hair away from it and continued. "But I would think that, wouldn't I? If you think about the examples I've had of father figures or really any adult males in the past. I wouldn't have the first idea if you're what a father's supposed to be or if you're out-of-your-skull crazy, so, yeah. To me, you're weird. Always have been." He paused for a beat, watching something stir across the street. "I'm getting pretty used to this weirdness, good or bad, though."
 
At the start of Xander's spiel, Dark frowned, looking away from the window for a moment. Then, he took a breath, listened to what Xander was saying, and told him, "I do not like being called weird and obsessive." He turned his attention back to the window, "It feels pathological. I am obsessive. The cleaning is obsessive. But I do not have any better of a father figure than you have had, and I do not like when what feels natural to me is deemed..." His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think of the correct word. "You do not call Daizi weird or obsessive."
 
Xander shrugged. "She doesn't act obsessive, but she embraces the whole weirdness thing." He didn't look at Dark, his eyes still on the window. "I hear what you're saying, but I'm not sure you hear what I'm saying. Maybe you are and I'm not hearing what you're saying after all. What I mean is... weird isn't bad. Weird is different. Chocolate ice cream when all you've ever had is vanilla is weird even if it turns into your favorite ice cream. You are obsessed with both the women in your life, but not like the cleaning thing. I mean like the..." He waved his hand vaguely. "Like how an old-timey sailor is obsessed with a lighthouse. The lighthouse illuminates everything around it, especially around you. They are the good things in your life that you never want to lose. Everything good to you already is way better when you're around them. You want to know how they are doing at all times because when they're happy, you're happy. Happier if you were already happy. They are yours. Not like how a lamp or some shit is yours, more like how... a community garden or something is yours and everyone else's at the same time. Yours to look after and tend to and guard. Belonging... with you instead of to you. And if you weren't some level of possessive and obsessive, then I'd think there was something wrong with you. Instead, you look like someone who could stand with Gomez Addams and Rick O'Connell. You'd totally be a part of a three-way swordfight through the castle foyer taking turns talking about how awesome your wives are. Kids, too. To me, it looks weird and obsessive... but that don't mean I don't... like it. Sometimes." He fell silent, blushing after his long speech.
 
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