Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters or products named in this story.
Warning: This story contains mention of prostitution, group sex, violence, m/m orgies
and one wild raccoon. HAU.
Summary: Xander is a male prostitute. It is his chosen occupation and he is very
happy with it. One night he takes on a group of clients with a friend and things
do not go as planned. When his friend is found murdered, homicide is called in.
Spike is a brilliant detective with OCD issues. When he is told to hide out in the
woods with the witness to protect, he gets more than he could have imagined.
Special thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banners, the story idea and for holding my
hand during the writing.
Spike leaned forward and stared in to the computer screen. He typed in
various names, alias's and descriptions searching for the information that
so far had eluded him. His desk was stacked high on both sides of him with
manilla folders that contained pictures, rap sheets and international warrants.
Everything that led nowhere. All dead ends. All empty leads.
Finally, taking the black rimmed glasses off his nose and tossing them down
he rubbed his hands over his tired eyes and he slumped back in his chair.
He checked the time on his watch and wasn't at all surprised to see that it
was well past both supper and quitting time, a point made even more clear
by the growl as his stomach rubbed angrily up against his backbone.
"Hey, I wondered if you were still here. I just finished the evidentiary
link forms on that car theft ring, so if you are about done too, why don't
we go out and get a burger and a beer before we head home?"
Spike swiveled around in his chair and smiled at the young detective
issuing the invitation. Penn was tall, trim, intelligent and Spike's best friend.
Probably his only friend. Not that Spike wasn't well liked around the huge
Metro Police Department, he was. It's just that his quirks and idiosyncrasies
were found, by most, to be off putting to say the least.
Rising from his chair, Spike immediately straightened his shirt, he adjusted
his neck tie and he carefully removed his suit coat from the back of his
chair then, with practiced ease, slipped it over his slim frame.
Penn smiled indulgently as he crossed his arms and leaned against the
door frame to wait. He had known Spike for nearly four years and he
knew this routine could not be altered or hurried.
He quietly hummed a tune as Spike pulled open the left bottom drawer of
his desk and extracted a can of Lysol disinfectant which he sprayed liberally
over his chair, computer, monitor, and keyboard. He then shook it violently
and emptied nearly half of it on the handset of his telephone.
"Someone use your phone?"
Spike snapped the cap back on the can, then as an afterthought, popped
it back off and gave the telephone one more squirt.
"Um, not sure. Jamie, the young Miss from records was in here alone earlier
to leave me some files and I don't know if she made a call or not, but better
to be safe than sorry."
Penn was tempted to ask him 'sorry about what?' but had decided long ago
that it was less mentally stressful to simply accept Spike as is than to try
to understand or change him.
He patiently waited as the Special Investigator then picked up each file
and laid it back down so the all the corners matched up perfectly to the
one underneath. He then counted to assure himself that each stack held
an equal number of files and Penn knew they were coming into the home
Opening the bottom right drawer, Spike removed the clean plastic dust
covers that were made to fit and he carefully slid them over his computer,
screen and keyboard. When he finally satisfied himself that all was as it
should be, Spike reached again into the desk and pulled out a handful of
small sealed packets that he dropped, all but one, into his pocket.
He ripped that one open and tossed the wrapper in the nearby trash can
before roughly wiping the disinfectant towelette over both his hands
and Penn pushed himself into a full standing position.
"Alright then, we ready to go?"
Spike looked around the room with a frown. It was never exactly right.
It was miles from acceptable but he knew if he spent all night here, it
would still fall short so he forced himself to look away and he nodded.
"Right then. I believe you said something about going out for a bite?
Where did you have in mind?"
Penn dropped his face and shook his head. This was the worst part, but
it had to be done, so he might as well get it over with. Spike followed his
friend out of the office. He held the sani-wipe in his hand and used it to
both turn off the light switch and grip the door knob as he pulled it shut.
He then dropped the used, contaminated wet wipe into a small container
the janitorial staff had installed there for just this purpose.
Everyone who worked for the City, knew that an Investigator of Spike's skill
and intuitive abilities was worth his weight in gold and if all it took to keep
him happy was to cater to a few odd habits, they were glad to do so.
"Gee, I don't know, Spike. You feel like Mexican?"
"Yeah, right, like I haven't seen the health department reports on El Burrito's."
"Nope, I saw a report on 20/20 that said 82% of teens that work there spit
and jerk off in the food they serve. Especially if they know the customer is
"Look, Spike, this would just go a lot easier if you just tell me where you
are eating this month and we can go there."
"Not necessary. Really, Penn, you decide. Anywhere is fine."
Penn gritted his teeth and tried again.
"The Spaghetti House?"
"No, I think they put suspicious things in the sauce. Just last week....."
"Fine. Dee's Diner."
Penn stopped walking and turned to his friend quizzically.
"Dee's Diner? The one down on McKinley by the YMCA?"
Spike and Penn had reached the front door to the station house and Spike
stepped back to wait for Penn to open the door for him. He had seen,
during a full 24 hour period, how many sick and germ laden people handled
that single metal handle and Spike never,ever touched it with his bare skin.
Frankly, he didn't know how any informed, intelligent person could.
"Right. Dee's. I was chasing a murder suspect and he ran through the front
door, through the kitchen and out the back, so I followed him. I must say,
I was very impressed with the cleanliness of the cooking facilities. I mean
there is certainly room for improvement, but I have taken several meals
there and find it, at least, acceptable.
'Yeah,' Penn mused. 'Till a waitress sneezes or you see a spider in the parking lot.'
"All right then, Spike my good Buddy. Dee's it is"
Together, the two detectives climbed in to Spike's spotless Volvo and he
drove cautiously for the restaurant of choice.