Author: BmblBee
Rating Adult overall
Paring: S/X
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story and make
no profit from them
Summary: Set in the early 1940's, Spike is a G-man sent on
a mission in the Appalachian mountains to search for
and destroy illegal alcohol when he has an accident.
Xander is a moonshiner who takes him in.
Silently Spike cried himself to sleep. He was so angry at
Xander for lying to him, he couldn't think straight.
And how dare he throw Spike's job up in his face?
He hadn't thought of himself as a government agent for a
long time, and he knew it wasn't something he was planning
on returning to even after he was healed.
He was so flustered and addled by drink he hadn't even
thought to ask how Xander found him out.
Probably didn't matter anyhow.
Spike could have kicked himself.
He had let his heart spin a fantasy of the two of them living
together on this mountain. Growing old together and caring
for each other.
Thoroughly broken, Spike sobbed till he fell asleep.
Furious, Xander returned to the barn to assess the damage
to his beloved Lincoln. Circling, he found it seemed to be
only the windshield. Something that could be replaced
without a lot of expense and work.
There was no damage to the body of the car, which he was
grateful for.
"Must have been to fuckin' drunk to do a proper job."
Xander snorted and lightly kicked the tire.
Too bad the damage to his heart could not be fixed as easily.
Telling himself the sorrow was for his car, Xander sat behind
the wheel and let the tears fall.
Everything had been so wonderful this morning
now it was all gone.
Slipped through his fingers like water.
Curling into a fetal position on the front seat, Xander also
finally dozed off.
Waking slowly, Xander was momentarily confused as to why
he was laying on broken glass in his car.
It took only seconds for it all to rush back in and over
whelm him with the depression of it.
Rubbing his hands roughly over his face, he climbed out and
brushed the shards off his clothes. Sniffing, he wiped his nose
on the back of his arm and began preparing the car for the run.
He straightened the cases and counted the jugs. He cleared
the broken glass off the seat and shook the floor mats.
He felt numb. He was no longer mad. He was nothing.
Entering the cold dark cabin he saw Spike shivering on the
bed in his sleep.
Yesterday he would have covered him with a quilt.
Yesterday he would have laid down and covered him with
a blanket of Xander and cuddled him.
With a mental slap, he knew what had to be done.
"Get up, Spike. It's time to go." Xander kicked the
bed frame then turned to reset the fire logs.
He would light it when he got back.
Alone.
Groggy and badly hung over, Spike sat up and scratched his
head.
Against his better judgement, Xander turned and looked
at him. Spike seemed so small and fragile on the bed.
His blue eyes bloodshot and squinting.
His blond curls were bed mussed.
Xander remembered when he had done that to Spike's hair.
The numbness wore off in an instant and the pain doubled and
crushed him.
Xander turned his back to Spike and gripped the mantle of the
fireplace to regain control of himself.
Without looking back he walked to the door, pausing only
to say,
"You have two minutes. I'll pick you up out front."
Spike watched him go and knew all hope walked out the door
with him.
He tried so hard to focus and understand everything that had
happened but his head was splitting and his stomach wanted to
explode.
He didn't blame Xander for hating him. He was a sloppy,
stinking drunk. Just like Xander had said.
That much he remembered clearly.
He also found it hard to recall what it was that he was so
angry about.
Because Xander had booze and wouldn't give it to him?
'No, that would have been the worse thing he could have done.
Instead he held me through the shakes.
Rubbed my back and took care of me.'
Spike eased himself out of the bed and began collecting his few
belongings tossing them into his suitcase. It took only one of
the two offered minutes. He had nothing that required the extra
time.
He heard the rumble of the engine when Xander started the car.
He watched from the porch as it pulled forward. It really was
beautiful. Spike knew next to nothing about cars, but he knew
perfection when he saw it. Sleek dark, and powerful.
He winced when he saw the damage that he had done.
Just one more thing in his life that he had ruined.
"Get in Spike." Xander reached over and pulled the handle
on the passenger door.
"Xander. I..." Spike wanted very much to apologize for the
broken glass. He had no right. If only he hadn't been drunk
maybe they could have talked. Maybe.
"Don't! Whatever you're gonna say, just don't. We should
be there in 30 min. Just sit there and don't talk."
Xander knew if Spike said anything at all he would cave.
Spike could talk about the price of pork bellies and Xander
would melt. He had to remain strong.
Get this man out of his car and go on with his life.
What else could he do?
The woods were silent save the sound of the massive V12
motor flying down the barely distinguishable dirt lanes.
Xander knew this mountain like the back of his hand.
The dips and turns, the pitfalls and soft spots.
Too bad he didn't know his own heart as well.
Xander stared straight ahead.
Spike watched out the dark side window.
When he knew he was less than a mile from the town,
Xander turned off his headlights and slowed to a stop.
"Towns that way. About a 15 min. walk. Bus should be
leaving first light. Oh, and Spike, if you are coming back to
arrest me, please send someone else. I don't want to ever
see you again." All that was said quietly,
without ever taking his eyes off the road ahead.
Mustering all the false bravado he could, Spike snorted.
"You aren't important enough to arrest, Xander. And
don't worry, I have no desire to return to this shit hole."
Spike hoped Xander hadn't heard his voice crack on the last
of that pathetic farewell. He collected his bag and had no more
than stepped out when the car roared to life and sped off.
With a deep sigh, Spike turned and walked away.