Paring: Spander (of course)
Warnings: Bad language and explicit sexual m/m activity.
Summary: Xander is wrongly convicted of murder and sent
to Riverview Correctional Institution where Spike is a guard.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or products named in
this story and sadly, make no profit.
Thanks to the amazing Petxnd for the banner.
Saturday. 4 p.m.
Xander stood in line in the dayroom and waited. He hated days like this.
Days that carried nothing worth anticipating. He had refused breakfast,
choosing to remain in his cell while his roommate went for the puddle of
yellowish, scrambled, almost eggs that laid in a watery pool on a tray.
It was usually accompanied by a slice of dry, burnt toast.
When he finally did come out, his afternoon had been spent watching
BET and hour after hour of the humping, grinding, mindless videos of
gangsta rap. It gave him a headache, but as one of the few white boys
on unit, what say did he have?
Now, at least, it was outside rec time. He knew without Spike to walk
with him it was not the same, but at least it was out.
It was a chance, for just a few precious minutes, to pretend that he was free.
That he had come to a park near his house to stroll and feed the pigeons.
That his life was still his own.
The 50 prisoners lined up in the center of the dayroom, hands clasp
behind their backs, voices silenced and waiting on C.O. Lehane to
count them out the door.
When he stepped outside, the warmth of the sun hit his face and Xander
tipped his head back, smiling. He immediately headed for the walking
track thinking that today might be the day to break into a jog.
With his mind on the outs, Xander failed to heed Oz's constant warning
to keep one eye open at all times. Before he had made two complete
passes, Xander realized he was not alone.
He now had two companions. Men on the housing unit that he stayed far
away from. Gang bangers in for drugs and rape.
Citizens of an America, Xander had never traveled to.
"Yo, homey. Wuz up?"
Maurice McDaniels, better known as Mo Mac, fell into step on
Xander's right, throwing his arm around Xander's shoulder.
Xander's head snapped to the right. His heart pounded in fear
and his brain knew better than to allow his mouth to answer.
"Yo. You got no words for my boy?"
Xander's head turned now to the left where Leroy Brown had crowded
in on his other side. Xander looked straight ahead and continued to walk,
the smile and joy completely forgotten as every muscle in his body went
on alert. He knew by ignoring the dangers and pretending he was not here,
he had made a serious mistake.
Although there was no threat, yet, Xander braced himself. He subtly
glanced around and was dismayed to see C.O.s Lehane and Finn on the
far sides of the compound. He was on his own. He continued to walk.
Thinking back to last night, Xander clearly remembered Oz explaining
the concept of 'woof tickets' to him.
Oz had said that a con will sell a 'woof ticket' to anyone he thinks will
buy it. It is an implied threat. You never actually knew if it was real or
bullshit unless you bought it. There was one thing for sure, if you buy it,
it will come again, ten fold.
Xander also knew the way he handled this could make or break him,
and with 40 more years to go, he wasn't about to be anyone's bitch.
"You're wasting your time. I don't have anything worth taking."
MoMac's fingers squeezed Xander's shoulder painfully.
"Damn, Leroy, I think our bro here is dissin' us. You callin' us thieves,
Deciding that, for now, these two did not want to draw attention to
themselves, Xander reached up and removed the hand from his shoulder.
"I'm saying, say what you want then leave me the fuck alone."
Leroy chuckled angrily.
"That ain't what your Momma said when she spread her legs open for
my big black dick."
Xander just snorted. Insulting the parents that had never cared for him
and had now all but abandoned him was a tactical error on the intimidator's
"Yeah? Well, she always was full of surprises."
Knowing how volatile his partner could become, MoMac jumped back in
before this could spiral out of control.
"Chill, Roy. Our boy here will think we don't like him. So, Harris, what
say we get down to business. We've been watchin' you and it seems that
you have a certain pig in your pocket, or maybe your pants, either way
we think that is some interesting shit."
Xander frowned. His brain scrambled to translate the foreign language
and when the script rewrote itself, he was stunned. 'Denial' was his only
hope and he responded calmly.
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
MoMac grinned. He knew he had hit the target in the center of the bulls eye.
"Riiiiight. See we hear Pratt been givin' you candy and God knows what
else. Makes us wonder what you been doin' for him in exchange. Makes
us wonder if you been suckin' his dick or maybe bendin' over for the man.
Cause I gotta tell you, I sure wouldn't mind them soft pink lips wrapped
around my piece of black meat."
MoMac grabbed his crotch and groaned loudly as he massaged and worked
it through the rough fabric of the blue prison pants. Leroy roared with
laughter. Xander swallowed his fear, keeping his eyes straight ahead as he
"That's a lie. There is nothing between me and C.O. Pratt. NOTHING."
Leroy bumped Xander causing him to stumble. Xander quickly recovered
and picked up the pace of his step. His companions easily kept up.
"Well now, that's too bad cause we sure wish there was. See the way
we see it, you put out some man pussy and Pratt gives you whatever you
want and in turn, whatever WE want. We could all be business partners."
Xander suddenly stopped walking. After two steps alone, the other
two spun on their heels, returned and stood just inches from Xander's nose.
Both C.Os across the compound noticed and started moving in that direction.
"Are you saying you want to pimp me? FUCK YOU! I am no one's whore!
You can't make me....."
MoMac's tense lips snarled back, showing a row of white teeth.
"What I'm saying is that we can make your time easy or we can make it
hard. Your fuckin' choice, but if you're thinking of saying 'no', then
maybe you better fuckin' think again."
Before the explicative could finish, a steel fist rammed into Xander's
back and another punch struck him across the face. In automatic
reaction, Xander swung and heard the cartilage crunch of a broken nose.
Stereophonically, from speakers all around him, all three combatants heard
the blasting siren that signaled trouble in the compound. Panic shot his
adrenalin through the roof as Xander fought for his life.
He could no longer hear the shouts of the other prisoners as they cheered for
one side or the other.
He never heard the army of C.O.s that charged forward, demanding that
all three stop and hit the ground. He was, however, eternally grateful for the
hard leather sap that struck him on the back, knocking him to the grass.