bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
bmblbee
bmblbee
bloodclaim

White Lightnin' 30/37

Title:White Lightnin' 30/37
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.



Xander instantly recognized the man standing in front of him as
the same asshole he had met six months ago.
The time had apparently not been kind to him as Xander
noted he now looked more like a worn out private dick
rather than a polished Government agent.

Xander shrugged.
He was totally disinterested in what problems this jerk had.
He had enough of his own.
Which brought him back to the reason for his visit.
"I need to know where Spike is."

The look on Liam's face was priceless. It had taken him a few
minutes to remember the hay seed he had spoken to all those
months ago on the mountain. But this didn't sound like the
uneducated moron who had claimed no knowledge of the
lost agent.
"Thought you never saw him."

Liam leaned forward in his chair.
This promised to be an interesting morning after all.

"Yea, well I lied. I need to talk to him. How can I find him."
Liam copied Buffy's slow perusal of Xander's body exactly.
Right down to the pause.

"Suppose I can guess what you want with him. Gotta
admit I had the same thought a time or two."
Straightening up, his face then changed to an expression of
anger and disgust.
"Course that was before the little shit cost me my promotion.
Fuckin' little drunk."

Xander gritted his teeth and balled his fists at his sides.
"Look, I don't care about your promotion or how many
people you want to fuck I just want to know where
Agent Beemish is."

Then mustering up all the self control he had, Xander added,
"Please."

Liam rested his forearms on the desk and looked smug.
"There is no Agent Beemish. He was fired. Last I heard
he was working down on the docks. Was homeless for
a while. Now, I don't know. Can't say exactly where he is,
you just gonna have to go down and ask around."

Though hurt, Xander could not say he was surprised.
He had feared as much. He wanted very badly to ask
O'Connor if Spike was sober, but he was afraid the man
would enjoy the answer too much, so he stayed silent.

With just a nod of his head, Xander turned to leave.
Before turning the knob he looked back one last time.

"You're a real asshole. You know that?'

Liam nodded. "Yea, I know." and he sat back propping
his feet up on his desk and chuckled.

After receiving directions from the security guard, Xander
headed for the area of the city's shipping ports.
The guard had told him he couldn't miss it.
Unfortunately he was right. It was huge. Miles of shoreline
filled with giant ships loading and unloading cargo.

Cars, trucks, thousands of men shouting, working. Trying to
find Spike would be next to impossible, but Xander had
come to far to just give up.
He had to try.

He dove into the throbbing pulse of activity. Asking first one
then another.
Any man he could persuade to talk to him.

Without a picture, all he had was a description. Most,
suspicious of his motives, would not even speak to him.
Those that did would just shake their heads.
No one knew or cared who Spike was.

Hours of frustration and failure were taking their toll.
Xander was tired, angry and above all hungry as fuck.
Finding a small greasy spoon that catered to dock workers,
Xander settled into a booth and ordered a burger and a
cup of coffee.
Choking them down he tried to decide what to do next.

"Y'all look like life been yanking your neck tie a tad too tight"
Xander lifted his face. The young waitress that had served him
was now leaning against the next booth with a smile aimed in his
direction. "You look like a man that's out of work. That it?"

"What? No. I'm trying to find someone and I just haven't
had much luck."
A thought came to Xander. "Hey, I'll bet most of the men
that come in here work on the docks. Maybe you know the
man I hunting. Kinda short, blond hair, early twenties,
Names William. Sometimes calls himself Spike?"

"Shoot, darlin' Lots of men come in here match that
description, but the name don't sound familiar. Sorry."
Tearing off his tab, the waitress dropped it on the table.
"Can I get you anything else?"
When Xander shook his head, she walked away.

Xander continued his walking and searching, but the end
of the day brought only more discouragement. He
had not been able to locate any one who knew Spike.

It was beginning to feel hopeless.
Unhappily, he returned to his car and his cramped bed in
the back seat.
Maybe some sleep would bring a new idea.

Spike was whipped.
12 Hour days of lifting heavy crates were taking their toll
and his body felt like he had been horse whipped.
An idea had been tiptoeing around his head lately and for
some reason today it was starting to grow.

Maybe because it was spring. A time that should have been
full of hope and new beginnings.
Maybe because of the shape of the world. A place right now
that showed no hope of peace. The radios and newspapers
had talked of nothing but war.

London had been bombed and Germany seemed to want to
devour everything in it's path. It was only a matter of time till
the States became involved.
Another world war.
Who would have thought.
They promised the first one would be the last.

All this combined together to solidify the decision Spike had
been trying to make.
He wanted to go home.
He wanted to go back to the cabin on the mountain.
He wanted Xander.
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