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.
Xander was stunned.
He couldn't wait till Oz got back to the cell from his shower. For the first
time since this whole nightmare started, Xander had hope. Hope that the
real killer could be caught and he would be free.
He paced restlessly, constantly checking out the small 12 inch wide plexiglas
window in his cell door. When he finally heard the buzzer, he nearly jerked
Oz's arm off tugging him in.
"Oz, look, shit, look!"
Xander shoved the letter under his cell mates wet nose.
Oz read it's few lines quickly, turned it over to check the back for more,
and when he saw that there wasn't any, he handed it back.
"Huh. That's odd."
"Odd? ODD? That's all? Holy fox on a chicken, Oz, this is my proof!
It's my way out! It's a 'get out of jail and go free' card."
"Now wait a minute, Xan. I don't....."
Xander couldn't hear a word Oz was trying to tell him. He knew Spike
would be in the hallway monitoring the showers and he wanted him to be
the first to know that he was about to be a free man.
Xander began banging on his cell door, not caring that that was a move
usually considered, and punished as, an attempt to disrupt the unit. It was
well known that when one inmate kicked his door, it set off a chain reaction
that saw the entire unit screaming profanities for hours.
Within less than a minute, it got the desired result.
Spike unlocked and snapped the cell door open.
"Hey! Knock that shit off. If you get the rest of these knuckleheads
beating on their doors and yelling, I'll kick your ass!"
Xander just laughed.
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Look."
He shoved the letter into Spike's hand. With annoyed curiosity, Spike
shook it out and read it.
"So what's this all about then?"
"Someone sent it. The real killer. I just got it today and it proves I'm
innocent. Whoever really killed Jesse must be hiding out in Arizona.
It's proof, Spike. It's proof."
Spike stood silently and obviously NOT sharing his lover's confidence
After a minute, Xander snatched the paper back and scowled.
"Well, obviously you two aren't as interested in my release from
Monster View as I am."
Spike glanced up the hall to make sure Conway was handling the shower
situation and he sighed.
"Xa...Harris, I know you think this means something, but I just don't want
to see you get your hopes up. Your case was news all over the country.
Crackpots attach themselves to people like you and send crank notes
and love letters all the time."
"Crackpots? People like me? Love letters? Does this look like a love
letter to you? It's a fucking confession! It's from a killer!"
"And what if it is? How would you prove it or find him? Are they
going to let you out to go look?"
Oz dropped his towel to the floor and calmly pulled his institutional
flannel sleep pants over his small body.
"I'm afraid he's right Xan."
Spike knew he had to get back to his job but hated to leave Xander
so angry and frustrated.
"Listen, maybe you could call your lawyer. He might be able to....."
Xander took a step back, an expression of shock flushed his face
in a red hue of fury.
"Oh, My, God. You think I'm guilty. Don't you? That's it! I TOLD you
I was innocent and you pretended like you believed me but you don't.
You think I'm guilty and you probably think I wrote this letter myself!
Well, fuck you!"
Spike knew there was nothing he could say. Every cell door in the
hallway had ears pressed to them, trying to catch the conversation
for future gossip to be spread throughout the entire institution.
Spike knew what a dangerous situation this could quickly escalate to.
"Look, Harris, we'll talk about this....."
"No! No, we won't. Get the hell out of my cell, Officer Pratt!"
Spike looked imploringly to Oz, who merely shrugged and turned his back.
Spike gritted his teeth and stared into Xander's eyes. Quietly, so no one
could hear, Spike whispered.
"You are a fool, Xander."
He then slammed the cell shut, a rare show of temper that few inmates
had ever witnessed.
Marching up the hall toward the office, Spike passed C.O. Conway
who asked with concern,
Spike just snorted.
"Yeah, sorry, little buggers can certainly get under your skin at times.
Hey, showers are almost done, just the last three cells waiting, can you
finish? I need to make an outside call."
"Sure, no problem."
Spike nodded and headed for the office.
Two hours later, both men settled in, uniform belts off, housing unit lights
dimmed and feet propped up. They had less than 15 minutes before their
relief came in on the midnight shift and Spike couldn't wait to get out.
He had agreed to meet the man he phoned earlier and did NOT want
to keep him waiting.
"Not a bad shift."
Spike glanced over.
"I said, not a bad shift. I always like working with you cause you seem
to have a better grip on your unit than some of the C.O.'s."
"Yeah, well, I've had some rough day's too. It just takes time to find
your pace. You'll get there. It will be easier when you get some seniority
under your belt and are assigned to a permanent housing unit rather
than floating around."
Conway took the remark as part encouragement and hopefully a smidgen of
"I sure wouldn't mind being here. Your partner isn't planning on going
anywhere is she?"
"You just never know. Listen, I'm going to make one last hallway check
before we leave to make sure everything down there is cool. Wait here,
it will only take a minute."
Conway smiled and nodded. Yep, he could sure find a home here. He
relaxed and watched as Spike walked down with his flashlight looking in
each cell window.
Spike hated to leave it like this. He didn't know if there was anything he
could say or do, but he needed to assure himself that Xander was all right.
He wished he could clear up the misunderstanding. It wasn't that he really thought
Xander was guilty. Spike paused, wondering, did he? Did he think Xander
was a murderer? In the big picture, did it matter? This wasn't about some
suspicious anonymous letter. This was about trust.
When he reached cell #3 he slowed and took his time.
Shining the beam of light in, he was dismayed to see the top bunk
empty and both men again cuddled up on the bottom.
He felt jealous. He felt depressed.
Spike snapped off his light and walked away.