bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

Hard Time

Tuesday's chapter is being posted early due to the big LJ shutdown.

Author: BmblBee
Paring: Spander (of course)
Rating: NC-17
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.
AS 4

Thanks to the amazing Petxnd for the banner.

5:00 am dawned bright and beautifully on the glorious, much awaited
Friday morning. Xander was up, washed and dressed an hour ahead of
the voice that boomed it's wake up call over the cell's intercom system.

He hadn't been outside this sma;; confined space in five days and the
chance to go to the dietary movement with the rest of the unit seemed as
wonderful as a trip to Cedar Point when he was a kid.

He never would have believed five days could seem so long. Besides
the boredom and loneliness, the worst parts were eating alone and then
having to lay your head down on a pillow that was just a few short feet
away from the cell toilet where you just took a dump.
That was cruel and unusual punishment if ever there was one.

He had listened to Oz and this time, he would heed his warnings. He knew
the situation between him and Leroy and MoMac was not settled and the
odds that it would flair up again was Vegas betting high.
Nearly every inmate on unit had commissary items wagered on the
outcome. Few would collect if Xander won.

He took Oz's advice and vowed to follow his instructions.
Do not respond to any verbal confrontation with them.
Do not be alone in any area of the institution.
Do not use the communal bathroom.
Do not run to the staff with your complaints or problems, and most of all,
Do not show fear.

Xander heard the crackle of the intercom and knew it was almost time.
Despite his concerns, his exuberance soared.

"Morning wake up call, Gentlemen. 15 minutes to chow. You miss
the movement, you don't eat. 15 minutes."

Xander literally bounced with excitement as he watched his celly yawn,
stretch, scratch his balls and drag himself over to the toilet.

"Takin' a piss there, huh? Good. Good. Hurry. We only have a few
minutes till chow. Notice I said 'WE'. Yep, the Xanman is off restriction
and can't wait to wrap his mouth around that pool of yucky yellow
substance laughingly referred to as 'scrambled eggs'.

Oz frowned and looked back over his shoulder as he shook the last
drops from his still snoozing dick. If he had any thoughts of a sarcastic
reply, it died on his lips as the sound of an argument down the hallway
caught his attention.

He recognized the first voice as C.O. Riley who was yelling the loudest.
"I said pack it up NOW! I don't give a fuck about your breakfast.
You will eat when your move is completed. So, get your shit
together or it gets left behind."

He then heard MoMac and Leroy both tossing about random threats
of 'Don't fuckin' rush us', 'We got the fuckin' right to eat.' and of course
the ever present. 'Get the fuck out of our fuckin' faces.'

The interesting thing to Oz was not so much that the inmates were being
transferred to another housing unit, or that it was being done at such
an odd time of the day. No, the thing his sensitive ears picked up on was the
tone of the convicts voices. There was the required bitching, but it lacked
surprise or outrage. Oz would bet his gambling money on the fact that
Leroy Brown and Maurice McDaniels were fully expecting this.
And wasn't that an interesting tidbit.

After washing his hands and pulling on his trousers, Oz rooted through
his shelf of the wall locker for a clean shirt.
"Well, looks like you lucked out. Seems as though your problems are
being removed from the housing unit."

Xander watched out the window as the two men, carrying their bed
mats rolled around their personal belongings traipsed past, both
taking the time to glare his way. Leroy smacked his hand against the
plexiglas window causing Xander to jump back.

Xander kept his voice so low, Oz could barely hear.
"You think Spike did that?"

Oz pulled his shirt over his head. Neither man expected him to answer
although both han an opinion.

Breakfast was wonderfully companionable. As soon as Xander sat at
a table, he was joined by Catfish, Geek, an older con doing a short
stretch for creative bookkeeping, and Flash, a young hispanic man
that shared Oz's abiding love of fire.

It was cheerful, relaxing, and Xander couldn't have been happier if they
had been sitting at Micky D's, eating a breakfast burrito and downing

When they returned to the unit, Xander hustled around, finding a deck
of cards and a sheet of scrap paper to keep score. He and the
boys had a rousing game of spades scheduled.

"Harris! Office!"

Xander looked at C.O. Riley and fear flushed his body. His brain sifted
through the morning's activities to recall what he could have done wrong
and prayed it wasn't something that would land him back on restriction.
Then another terror struck him. What if he was being moved too.

Cautiously, he got up from the card table and moved toward the office.
Standing in the door way, he waited as Riley pulled a card off his desk
and handed it over.

"You got a visitor. Here's your pass. C.O. Miller will take you to
the visitation room. Give the guard there your pass and he will tell you
where to sit. You got that?"

Xander brain had stalled on 'you got a visitor'. No one had come to see
him since he had been arrested. Willow had sent a few letters but he knew she
was busy with school and a new girlfriend. His parents, in the beginning, had
accepted his collect calls, but soon after, put a block on their phone. He
wanted to think it was because of the cost, but in his heart he knew better.
The outside world keeps turning without you.

Following instructions, he took the pass and accompanied C.O. Miller
down the steps, through unfamiliar hallways and into a small room he
never thought he would see the inside of. He sat where he was told and
he waited.

Within moments, the door on the opposing wall opened and a smartly
dressed, good looking gentleman walked in. He sat his briefcase on
the table between them and he extended his hand.

"Alexander Harris? My name is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. I am an
attorney and a private investigator. I have been asked to look into
your case and speak with you."

Xander just blinked.

He finally stood up and shook the offered hand, looking his visitor up and
down head to toe as he did. Dark hair, good looking face and a nice body.
Expensive suit and an English accent.
Nope, Xander had no clue but he sat when told to.

Xander stared at the man now sitting across from him and waited for
something to make sense. There were a million questions he wanted to
ask, but none of them more than the one that sparked the dying ember
of hope in his heart back to a flame.

"You really think you can help me?"

Wesley nodded for the guard to sit at the desk in the far corner. It gave
him visual contact for security, but assumed he could not overhear what
was being said between attorney and client.

"I'm certainly not making any promises but I did agree to take a look at
the facts of your case."

Wesley removed a yellow legal pad from his case and began making notes.
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic