bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
bmblbee
bmblbee
bloodclaim

Hard Time

HARD TIME
39/47
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.
Hard Time is based on a story idea from Ladyvirgo.






Thanks to the amazing Petxnd for the banner.


Xander burst out into the exercise compound with a vigor and lust for
life he hadn't felt in months. The sun was brighter, the birds sang louder,
and everything seemed more crisp and alive than it had since that terrible
night on the beach.

His heart soared with renewed hope for the future and it was all he could
do not to throw his arms out and spin in circles screaming,
"Jesse is alive! Jesse is alive!"

After his little 'spell' Spike had tried to insist he be checked out by medical,
but Xander talked him out of it. He had fainted from shock alone and
no Tylenol or Ex-Lax would cure what was wrong with him. His cure
would be in the proof that Jesse was not dead and Xander was certainly
NOT a murderer.

It made Xander crazy. He wanted to leap over the razor wire and run to
where Jesse was hiding, drag him out by the scruff of his neck and prove
that there had been no crime of unspeakable horror, as the Sunnydale Press
liked to call it.

Xander stood outside in the center of the rec yard, surrounded by high
fences and watched by a gun tower with a high powered rifle, yet he
had never felt more free.

His heart and soul sailed high over the confinements of the prison walls
and Xander knew the first thing he wanted to do when he walked out
that front gate was give Spike the biggest kiss he could, then, uppity
cousin Wesley Windham-Pryce better fucking pucker up cause he was
second on the lip list and the third thing was to shove his foot several
inches up Jesse's ass.

Xander frown slightly wondering why his friend/lover would have set him
up like that. He had to know Xander was on trial for his murder. Did he
just sit back and laugh? Was he that angry about being denied the money?

Spike had told him to keep his mouth shut for now, and oddly, Xander
agreed. He believed actually saying the words out loud would jinx him. It
was a well known and accepted rule of the universe.

Happily, Xander headed for the walking track. He knew by the third time
around, Spike, HIS Spike would join him. Someday soon they would be
doing this in a city park, maybe walking a dog, maybe....

"FUCK YOU! YOU MOTHER FUCKIN' FUCKHEAD!"

Xander slowed his gait as his attention was drawn back to the world he lived
in. Off to the rear of the compound, he spotted Rug Barnhart and Weed
Steele squared off at each other. Rug had shoved Steele back and Steele
was coming on fast, fists raised. Both men shouted curses and threats.

Spike was the first to notice the altercation. At this point it didn't look
to be anything too extreme and the accepted procedure dictated that
because they were Spike's inmates, he would be the first respondent. As
back up, Conway was to begin to round up the rest of "I" unit and keep them
from becoming involved.

Angel stood up from his bench. He checked the location of C.O. Jackson
and nodded his head to signal to her that they would keep the "D" unit inmates
calm. It was a bit premature to consider running them back inside.

Spike continued walking in the direction of the scuffle that was still not
much more than harsh words and shoved bodies. When he was still several
feet away, he shouted.

"All right! That's enough! Separate and lay down! Now!"

When the convicts heard their C.O.'s voice their reaction was immediate.
Unfortunately, it wasn't to follow instructions, it was just the opposite.
Rug swung, landing a hard punch squarely on Steele's jaw causing him
to stumble and spit blood before he flew back, leaping on top the huge
skinhead and the two of them rolled on the ground exchanging wild punches
and kicks.

"SHIT!"

Spike took off at a run closing the distance between himself and the fight,
reaching for the black sap that swung from his wide, thick, leather belt.
When the other inmates in the yard realized one of their own was about to
get the leather kiss, they also began moving in, some to watch and some to
assist. No one really cared which side they came down on, they just wanted
to be part of the excitement.

"No! Get back here! Please?"

C.O. Conway might as well have been whistling in a rain barrel. Few
inmates heard him and fewer cared. Jackson and Angel quickly recognized
the potential severity of the situation and formed a perimeter. They began
moving toward each other from opposite sides of the yard in an attempt to
corral their prisoners.

Then, as if reacting to some unheard signal, the cons in the yard exploded.

With his back turned to the main part of the yard, Spike could now hear
what sounded like a stampede of buffalo behind him as nearly a hundred
feet hit the sod and pounded a path toward the action. Voices shouting,
threats feeding the fires of unrest.

It was an all out riot.

Spike reached his hand up to the microphone that was clipped to his lapel
and pushed the small, orange button. Within seconds, a blasting siren began
to wail. It gave everyone, con and guard alike a start. It split through their
ears and bounced around their brains blocking out all other sound in the yard.

It resounded throughout the entire institution, signaling a total prison
lockdown and sent every available guard to the area of trouble.
Unfortunately, that took time. Minutes that felt like hours to the men,
guards and inmates alike, who were soon fighting for their lives.

In the chaos that was now totally out of hand, no one noticed Leroy and
MoMac rushing toward Angel from his blind side.

The yard had escalated from skirmish to fracas and now peaked at riot
conditions. Shouts and threats strained to be heard over the brain busting
siren that continued to blare. Some of the convicts were using the confusion
to take revenge on other inmates they had beef with and the yard was a
cluster of countless struggles, scuffles and out right fights.

Reaching the two from the catalyst, Spike wasted no more time with attempts
at verbal strategies. Swinging with all his strength, He brought his sap down
on the back of the head of Barnhart who was, for the moment, on top,
knocking him instantly unconscious.

With a grunt, Steele shoved the fat, limp body off himself and rolled quickly
away. He immediately hoisted himself to a sitting position and curled his
split, bloody lips into a huge grin and began to laugh.

Spike knew, with a sickening horror, that they had been had.
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