bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

Xander Harris - Undercover

Title: Xander Harris - Undercover 40/40

Author: BmblBee
Rating: Adult
Paring: S/X with a side of W/G
Summary: Xander is drifting, looking for a purpose in life.
One that finally comes clear when he spots a certain
hairdresser by the name of Mr. William. Xander
immediately begins planning and plotting to win over
this scrumptious man. Of course nothing worth having
ever comes easily.
Genre: Comedy, romance. HAU
Warnings: The usual bad language as well as graphic m/m sexual
activities. Also warned of hints of poultry perversions.
Disclaimer: I Own or have claim on none of the characters or products
used and named in this story and no profit is made.
Feedback: Much appreciated. It encourages me to continue.

"How much? How much to get you to go away and never come back?"

Angel pretended to be surprised by the unexpected question.
"Well since I don't even have a car or a bike I'll need at least no, five thousand and you'll never see me again. If that's
what you really want."

Spike got up and walked to the desk in the corner of the living room
picking up his check book. He also retrieved Xander's pictures from
the kitchen before returning to his chair.

Laying everything on the coffee table Spike sat back with his hands
behind his head.
"I can't believe you sold Big Red. You loved that bike. To be honest I thought
you loved it more than me. I remember the day I caught you masturbating
against the side of it."

Angel roared with laughter.
"I remember that day. Damn, between the poppers and the weed we
used to get high as fuck. Sure miss that bike. Hated to lose it. Now about
that check. If you just want to make it out to cash......."

"I'm thinkin', um, no. Funny thing. The boy might be a stalker but he's
also a hell of a photographer."

Angel frowned in confusion.
Spike picked up the last picture in the pile. It was the one Xander had snapped
to use up the end of the roll. It clearly showed the street, the intersection,
and a clean, well dressed man sitting on a blood red Harley and staring in the
direction of Spike's house.

Spike took great pleasure in the shocked and finally defeated
look on Angel's face. Apparently the deck of cards that he
thought he held were all jokers.

After staring at the picture for what seemed like forever, Angel
tossed it back down and shrugged.

"O.k. so I've still got the bike. What about half? You give
me a couple thousand and I disappear. You won't even miss
it. For old times sake?"

Spike leaned down and scooped his checkbook up off the table
causing Angel to visibly relax and the smile return to his face.
It wasn't what he had hoped for but it wasn't a complete wash either.

It would be enough money to pay off that last gambling
debt and get that fucking thug of a bookie off his ass.
He could get a dime bag of weed and catch up his past due rent.
All in all, a fair days work.

He would have preferred to move in, enjoy a little sex
romp down memory lane, live cost free for a while, and
maybe tap into that nest egg he was sure Spike had set
up for himself, but as always, Angel had a back up plan.

This one happened to be "take the money and run".

Spike opened the green plastic checkbook and tapped his
pen on the first blank page, appearing to give great thought to
the requested amount.

At the last minute, however, he closed it, tucked it in his shirt pocket
and crossed his arms.

"I've got another idea. How about you just get the fuck out of my
house and if you ever try this again I call the law and file extortion
charges against you."

Looking very much like a tired old man, Angel barked out a bitter laugh,
rose to his feet and started for the front door where he collected the back
pack he had dropped there.

"Your loss Spike. We could have had a good time, turned this town
upside down. You always were a bore, Spike and frankly if you
had been a little better in bed I wouldn't have had to look else where."

Spike took a deep breath, pleased and surprised to find the words didn't
hurt at all. With no regrets he opened the front door and watched his
past walk away. It was a tremendous load off his back he hadn't even
realized was still there.

Pausing, on the front porch, he looked around. The sun was shining,
the birds were singing, and no one appeared to be watching him with a
spy glass.
Life was good.

Closing the door, Spike walked straight to the den and fired up
the computer. He then returned to the kitchen and fixed himself a hot cup
of tea. He located his reading glasses, the good ones, turned on his printer,
and finally settled in for what promised to be a long day of research.


Xander hadn't stopped crying for two days. He refused to leave the
basement and even judge Judy's case of the jilted bride who had
shoved her engagement ring up her butt to avoid having to return
it failed to cheer him up.

He had gained and lost it all in the blink of an eye. He couldn't eat
He couldn't sleep. All he could do was cry. His Father had even
lost interest in harassing him with rooster jokes, especially disappointed
that "cock of the walk" got no response at all.

His Mother was beginning to be concerned and had ask at least
ten times if he was sick and when was the last time his bowels
had moved.

Dragging himself to his feet, Xander shuffled off to the bathroom.
Maybe, he thought, a hot shower would make him feel better.
Wash away all the hurt and depression he was swimming in.

Stripping down, he stepped into the spray of water and stuck his
head under. Before he could reach for the shampoo his brain was
immediately flooded with images of he and Spike having sex in the
bathroom while watching Wes and Gunn.

The whole thing had been about so much more than great sex.
REALLY REALLY great sex.
It was about sharing. He was part of them and belonged
with them, even if it was only for one night.

Xander dropped his head and let the tears start again.
He knew even when Spike told him he would talk to him later
that he never would. Still, he had sat faithfully by the phone.
Jumping a mile each time it rang, although it was only twice.

It was over. Everything Xander had in his hands had slipped
through his fingers and was gone. The water and the tears continued
to flow.



I know I promised this story would only be 40 chapters long, but the
last chapter ran waaaaaay to long, so it was rewritten and divided
up. Tomorrow will be the epilogue.
You know I wouldn't end it like this.
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