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.
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.
Penn sat on the chair directly across the table from Xander and he calmly
reached for his note pad and pen. Spike stood, one step behind his partner
and slightly to the left with his arms crossed. Xander waited silently to see
which way the wind would blow.
"Now, Alex, can you tell us what happened tonight?"
Xander tugged his borrowed blanket tighter around himself as protection
against the chill in the air.
"First, don't call me Alex. My name is Xander. Second, I already told the cops
Penn smiled. He took the name correction as a sign of friendly cooperation
and he immediately altered his persona to fit.
"I realize that, Son, but we need to hear it from you so we have a good starting
Xander batted his eyes innocently.
"Well, Dad, I would say the best place to start would be in my fucking, blood
Before he could stop himself, Spike snorted. The kid was a real smart ass.
Spike liked that. At a distance.
Penn ignored his partner and wiped the smile off his face.
"Look, if you want us to find out who did this, we need some answers from you."
Xander nodded. Although he doubted that these stick up the butt detectives
really cared who slaughtered Joey, Xander cared and he wanted someone to pay.
Spike began with their usual first question.
"Where were you tonight?"
Xander turned his attention to the man who, up to now, had been mute. He
then looked back at Penn.
"Why the fuck doesn't he sit down?"
Penn just shrugged.
"He never sits. Answer the question."
So, with a sigh of resignation, the interrogation began.
"I was out getting food, taking a walk and looking for Joey. When I came
home, I found him."
"Were you working tonight?
"No! Getting food is not a code phrase for selling ass."
"When was the last time you saw Joey?"
"Last night. We worked a job together. An S&P party down at the Holiday Inn."
Spike's brow wrinkled.
Xander stared him in the face and smirked.
"Yeah, a stack and pack. It's where a bunch of old guys gang up on a couple
of us and group fuck us till they are too pooped to pack. You and your buddy
Spike swallowed. If he had his paper napkin, he would have no doubt gagged
into it. As it was, he did his best to check his response. Penn mentally
chuckled and continued.
"You and Joey argue about anything?"
"Not last night. It all went smoothly. Everybody came and I went."
"Joey didn't go home with you?"
"No, he was sleeping and wanted to stay till morning."
"Why do you think Joey came to your place?"
Xander shook his head.
"I guess he was looking for me. The party had paid good and we talked
about taking a couple nights off and just hanging out."
Penn continued to write, recording the boy's answers and jotting notes in
"Your room had been torn up, furniture cut, mattress ripped open, someone
was looking for something. Do you think Joey did that? Do you think he was
looking for something? You said the party paid good, do you think he was
looking for your cut of the money? Word on the street was that your friend
had a drug problem."
Xander was taken aback. That was something he had never considered.
Would Joey steal from him? No, he really didn't think so. Joe knew Xander
would give him the shirt off his back. In fact, he often had. Besides, whoever
cut his couch repeated the action on Joey's throat.
"Yeah, that must have been it. Joey broke in to my palatial estate looking for
my stash of cash and when he didn't find it, he slit his own throat in frustration.
Case closed. Damn, you two are good!"
This time Spike was not amused but he chose to ignore the boy's sarcasm
and stay on track.
"Tell us about the men you, ah, serviced last night."
Xander flopped back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him.
"There was four of them. Probably in their 40's or 50's, you know, real old
guys. They didn't give us their names but most don't. They must have
been rich cause they split a large between us and didn't nobody get tied
up or beat for it."
Spike refused to allow himself to be distracted with sympathy for this
young man and how he had to survive.
"What did they look like?"
Xander scratched his head and tried to remember.
"One tall, one short, two average. One chubby, one skinny, two average.
They were foreigners. Dark skinned and didn't speak much English. All
had good sized dicks. Maybe it's an ethnic thing."
Spike asked before Penn had the chance.
"An ethnic thing?"
"Yeah, you know what they say, the darker the skin the bigger the cock.
Speaking of which, you need to get out in the sun more. You're pale as a ghost."
Spike ignored the comment that had been directed to him. If the boy had
any idea of the statistics on skin cancer as it related to exposure to UV rays
he would never have made such an ignorant, uninformed statement.
Sporting a comfortable tan of his own, Penn continued.
"What was the room number at the hotel?"
Xander was quickly getting frustrated. None of these questions were getting
them any closer to the bastard that killed his friend.
"329, but what's the point? I'm sure they are long gone by now and I doubt
they left a forwarding address."
Then, Xander caught the quick darting glance between the detectives and
he wondered if he had dozed off and missed something. He knew one thing,
that look was not a good one.
"What? What was that look? Why would they break into my place and kill Joey?"
Penn pushed aside his note pad and he folded his hands on the table. This
was the part he dreaded.
"We need to go to the hotel room, Xander because we believe there was a
second crime scene. Your friend, Joey had ligature marks on his wrists and
burn marks all over his body. Who ever killed him took their time at it."
Xander's mouth fell open and his heart dropped to his stomach. If he had had
the chance to eat that sandwich, there would now be Whopper all over the
floor of the interrogation room. With a sob, and as a single tear ran down his
cheek, Xander grabbed Penn's forearm arm and squeezed.
"You catch them! You fucking catch those Columbian bastards!"