4/40
Author: BmblBee
Paring: What else? S/X of course.
Rating: Adult for language and M/M activity.
Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belong to the Bee.
and she makes no money off them, or anything else. The Bee is broke.
Summary: The Rosebud Murders took an emotional toll on
everyone involved. Is love enough for a happily ever after or does
it take a hell of a lot of work and compromise to build a life together?
Spike and Xander struggle to find out.
Thanks to Petxnd for the lovely banner
Spike sat uncomfortably in the hard, straight back chair and
tried his best not to squirm. The fat, short, German doctor had not
said a word in the last two minutes as he paced back and forth,
his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes firmly locked on
Spike.
The office was gloomy, filled with everything dark, leather and wood.
The small windows had both shades and curtains as though any ray
of hope and sunshine was banned as inappropriate.
Finally, just as Spike was about to get up and storm out, maybe,
the doctor stopped and spoke.
"Vee are going to delve deeply into your psych Mr. Pratt.
Discover what makes you tick. Explain what it vas about dat last
case dat turned you into da homosexual. Vas it da plunge of da
long smooth knife into your body? Vas it da rolling about da floor
vis da oter man? How do you feel about your Father, Detective?
Did you Moter nurse you from da breast?"
Spike blinked. He looked all around the room to assure himself that
he was still in the precinct and not down a rabbit hole, although to be
honest, the good doctor did certainly resemble the Mad Hatter.
When the realization of why he was here became clear, Spikes confusion
morphed quickly into anger. Sensibly controlled anger. Anger that
recognized the fact that this fat, foreign homophobe held the ticket to
his return to his job.
"I can assure you, Doctor that I was very gay before the arrest and injury
and that my relationship with my Father has no bearing on my job or my
homosexuality."
"AHA!"
Dr. Hiney's eyes lit up and Spike knew he had just played the wrong card.
He would not be collecting $500. He would not be passing Go, and he
defiantly would not be getting out of jail free.
Spike rubbed his hands over his face and groaned.
"Oh hell."
Xander and Patrick had sat down on the bottom step, Xander's arm
around the older man's shoulders. It had taken a few minutes before
Patrick had been able to stop crying. Years of pent up grief and guilt
had burst forth and the relief of releasing both had overwhelmed him.
Xander held him, feeling all the emotions as they flowed through their
progression. It couldn't be hurried. It shouldn't be stopped. Shock,
shame, disbelief, belief, finally peace and gratitude and even a little
embarrassment.
All the baggage he had carried silently with him for years was suddenly
gone, sent packing. He was at last, able to remember all the good times,
all the love of home and family without the negative attachments that
followed.
For the first time in years he let go of his self imposed exile.
His mother forgave him for not being there at the end. His mother
loved him, was proud of him and was still with him. More importantly,
when the time came, his mother would be there, waiting with her hand
outstretched, to take him home.
It was a certain knowledge that gave real hope to his life and beyond.
Xander rocked the older man and shared in the warmth and love he
was feeling. It was times like this that made him feel so humbled, so
grateful that he had been given such a gift to share.
"Thank you, Xander. Thank you. You have given a foolish old man
what he needed most." Sniff sniffle.
Patrick pulled an old cloth handkerchief from his pocket and blew his
nose loudly. "Hooonk."
Xander smiled and watched as Patrick pulled himself together, brushing
the few remaining hairs on the top of his head back into their comb
over spot. Finally, with a big sigh and using the base of the post of
the huge, sweeping stairway, he pulled himself to his feet.
"Come. Come, Xander. I want you to see my house. Maybe you
will like it. Maybe you will live here. What do you think?"
Xander was shocked. He stood quickly and spun, looking in a full
circle to try to take it all in.
"Live here? Here? Live here? Gee, Patrick, I don't know. It's....it's....
so big. I don't think I could afford it. It's across town from work.
It's....it's......so big."
Patrick blew his nose and wiped his eyes again. He didn't know why
he hadn't thought of it before. It was so perfect. Especially if Xander's
cop didn't like it.
"We could make a deal, Xander. A house is like a living thing. If it
sit's empty too long it starts to go to seed. This house has been empty
too long already. It needs someone to love it. To care for it, repair it
and live in it. That would be our deal. You live here rent free and in
exchange you bring life back to the rooms. Fill my house with life."
Xander wandered off to the right into the formal sitting room. He pulled
one of the sheets off, snorting at the dust cloud, and revealing a regal
looking, red upholstered, saddle back chair. The quality was unmistakable
and he knew that it's twin sat on the other side, still concealed and both
facing the large brick fireplace.
He could easily imagine himself and Spike sitting there, cozy, relaxed
and warmed by the fire on cool winter evenings. Making love on the
floor, naked, touching......
Xander discreetly adjusted his growing interest.
"The house is wonderful, Patrick, still........."
"No, no. Don't decide yet. Come with me and we will look all around.
It has five bedrooms and four baths. Upstairs sitting rooms and walk in
closets. Down stairs game room, library, and of course the carriage
house. You said it is too far from work, but that isn't a problem. You
could set up the carriage house as a wood shop and work on your
projects there. The roof is good and the plumbing was updated about
15 years ago. The house just needs some minor repairs and a lot of TLC.
What do you say? Want to look around?"
Xander couldn't stop the smile from tweaking the corners of his mouth.
Spike did say he wanted a larger place. What could it hurt to just look?
"Well........I'm not saying yes, mind you, but I sure would like the tour."
Patrick was thrilled. He pulled Xander into a bear hug embrace and
patted his back. Just as quickly he released him and rushed up the
stairs, motioning for Xander to follow.
"Wonderful. Wonderful. Besides just think how terrific it would be
to hold your circles here. All of your friends will love it."
Xander groaned. That was another whole conversation he and
Spike would have to have. The circles. His friends.
"Oh, hell."
"Oh hell"
Spike stood outside the office door of the psychologist and just shook
his head. That had gone worse than he could have ever imagined even
in his ugliest nightmares. It had started out badly enough when the Doctor
had ask him
"Vat has un Momma und Poppa done dat make you vant da penis?"
Then things had gone south when he was questioned as to whether he was
really trying to arrest Elvin or just grope him on the floor. Hiney actually
had the nerve to ask if he had an erection at the time of the stabbing.
Now to top things off the damn doctor was threatening to suggest he
complete a series of anger management classes before he be allowed to
return to full active duty. All because Spike had threatened to shove a
mechanical pencil up Der Doctor's ass and explore the good doctors
reaction of "da penis."
Spike kicked the chair in the hallway waiting room and turned to walk
away. Maybe with a little luck he could slip into his office unnoticed
and just hide out for the rest of the afternoon. With his face down he
mumbled quietly.
"Please, please, no more today."
Slump shouldered, Spike got three steps toward the
elevator before the intercom system blasted his name.
"Detective Pratt. Detective William Pratt. Report to Chief Inspector
Giles office ASAP."
"Oh hell."