bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
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Heart Strings

Title: Heart Strings 3/11
Author: BmblBee
Rating: Adult (Although more story than sex)
Paring: S/X
Disclaimer: The BmblBee makes no money off her
stories and owns nothing. Including the characters.

Summary: HAU This short story is a follow-up to
White Lightnin'. It takes place in the early 1940's
and is a quick peek to see how things are going for
our boys on their mountain home.



Immediately upon spotting the
"WELCOME TO SUGARCREEK"
sign, Xander slowed to the speed limit.

Now that he was no longer running shine he was
thrilled to have the opportunity to show off his pride
and joy.

He cruised down the main street and smiled at the
stares and points of the people he passed. He shrugged
helplessly at the open flirting of the young girls for the
driver of the smartest car they had ever seen.

Spike laughed at Xander's attempt at humble. He
knew what the car meant to him. He also knew Xander
had been offered a great deal of money for her by the
town's banker, Mr. Anderson who wanted it for his spoiled
son at college.

But Xander would never sell.
The car meant more to him than just money, and Spike
didn't mind the competition for Xander's affection.

Turning the corner onto Main St,. Xander pulled the car,
almost comically, into a parking space between and old
Chevy pick up truck and a John Deere tractor.

"Come on hurry up. I want to get in there before a long
line starts."

Xander scooped up armfuls of thick lush furs and headed
for the general store. He had earlier explained that once
a month the buyer sets up in the back room of the store
and that was where everyone went to sell their wares.

It was a long tedious process of give and take. The buyer
looks over the furs and offers a piddlin' amount of money.

The trapper demands an outrageous amount and then the
haggling begins. Back and forth they go till they finally arrive
at the amount they would both have been happy with in the
beginning.

Always did seem to Xander like a lot of unnecessary
bull shit, but that's they way it has been done for generations,
so who was he to question it.

Hustling through the front door Xander led the way to
the back. What he saw caused his good mood to plummet.

"Oh hell. Damn Spike there's already four here ahead of us."

Spike was dismayed. He knew they would have gotten
here at least an hour earlier if he hadn't insisted on dragging
Xander back to bed for a morning quicky. Nope couldn't
feel bad about that.

"No problem, Love. We'll just wait our turn. I mean
how long can it take?"

Somehow the optimism faked in his voice failed to reach
Spike's face. Xander laughed.

"Look there is no sense in both of us standing here for this.
Why don't you go take a look around town and I will meet you
at the diner for lunch later?"

As much as Spike hated to abandoned Xander to the torture
of standing here the thought of listening to these people
bicker of the price and worth of dead animals was just about
enough to drive him back to drink.

"Really? You sure you don't mind if I take a bit of walkabout?"
Xander laughed as he watched Spike slowly starting to back
out of the room.

"A what? No, I don't mind. But I have to warn you there
isn't much to see."
Xander longed to pull his lover into a hug, give him a quick
kiss, something, but knew better.

So with a nod of his head and a wink Xander kept his voice
impartial.
"Sure, you go on and I'll catch up to you when I'm done."

Spike's heart was touched with the warmth of the wink.
It sent all the love it contained, however before Xander
could change his mind, Spike was up the aisle and out the door.

The early spring air was cool, but the sun was bright and
promised a beautiful day. Spike pulled his jacket close around
his body and looked in both directions trying to decide which
way to explore first. He finally turned and strolled off to the left.

He was thrilled to see there was a movie theatre that showed
second runs and immediately made plans for future dates.
He knew Xander would be agreeable as long as all their work
was done.

He passed the hardware store, paused to look in the window
of a shoe and hat shop and wandered on down toward the
town library.

Xander sighed as he watched Spike go. He longed to be with him,
but knew this was just too important. This was the money to finance
their future. It would fill their larder till planting season could
support them, and more than that, this was the money to start
the construction on their cabin.

They had gone over the plans a dozen times and both men
were anxious to get started. If the weather cooperated and the
next months furs were as high a quality as these, they would be
under roof by fall and could complete the work inside over
the winter.

As Spike stepped out of sight, Xander turned and groaned
as he watched Buck Jackson shake a fist in the furrier's face.
Unfazed the buyer counted out a few bills tossed them on
the table and waited.
Thank God Buck picked them up without further bitching
and smiled as he double counted and walked away.

Pete King was next. He was 80 years old and had lived every
one of those years on the mountain.
His furs were the poorest.
The buyer knew it and so did Pete.
He was coming to the last of his time and was
barely hanging on.

Some folks said he had a daughter that lived in Little Rock.
She had been trying to coax him to come live with her, but
everyone knew he wouldn't.

Leaving his home would kill him sure. At least this way he
would become part of the mountain they all loved, and in the
end who could want more than that?

Xander watched silently as Pete collected the few dollars he
was offered.

Thanking the buyer he stuffed the money in the pocket of his
worn out overalls, hung his head and shuffled out the door,
his body bent painfully with the ravages of age and arthritis.

Spike had reached the end of the street. Nothing further on
but the road leading out of town. He knew it was still to early
for lunch and Xander would not be finished for some time.
Looking up the other way he decided to cross the street and
repeat his trek on the other side.
The relaxation and luxury of it was heavenly.

Although to be honest the town held very little of interest.
A Bank, the library, a few clothing stores, the diner, and
an equal number of churches and bars.

Probably sharing the same clientele.
One on Saturday night and the other on Sunday morning.

Spike tipped his head back and squinted as he gazed into
the clear, cloudless spring sky. He sucked in a cool breath
of clean air and blew it back out.

Rubbing his cold hands together briskly, he darted across
the street and resumed his exploration.
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