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.
The next three hours were spent in the volley of give and take. The casual
feeling out of insult and retort that gave them each a feel for the man they were
to spend the next week or more with. None of the barbs were too sharp.
None reached the so far untouchable subjects of Xander's profession or the
devastating loss of his friend.
Generally, they stayed in the safe territory of a grungy cowboy hat vs a straight
jacket-like business suit. A shaggy haircut, which Spike would die before admitting
he really thought looked smashing on the boy, vs a too restrictive do of blond curls
that were formed and plastered, with not one stray hair out of place, to the detective's
Interspersed with the snipes were extra rules tossed out by Spike as they came to
mind. Xander was having a hard time believing the man was serious. He had
never met anyone like this before in his life and considering the number of men he
had chalked up in his past, that was a startling situation.
By ten AM, the sun was high and hot in the sky and Xander's interest in verbal
game playing had wained. The warmth baking in through the tinted windows was
making him sleepy but, more than that, the hollowness in his stomach demanded
attention. He still had money left from his windfall, but experience told him to keep
his cash hush hush, besides, he was the apparent prisoner here, shouldn't his jailer
have to feed him?
"Hey, Helmet Head, I'm hungry."
Spike chose to ignore the hair insult. Fact was, he was starving too. He had, for
the past few miles been considering the problem. The entire length of the interstate
was traversed with advertisements for fast food, "Grandma's Home Cookin'" and
chain restaurants. He was almost certain none of them served decent, grease free
food on clean dishes.
Still, he knew they would soon have to stop. He needed to get out the directions
and see at what point they were to leave the main highway and turn onto the
secondary roads that, no doubt, would then reduce themselves to a cow path
that leads directly to the certain hell that is the boon docks.
When Xander's statement received no acknowledgement beyond a scowl as the
driver stared straight ahead, he decided to try again. This time, Xander stuck
both hands directly in Spike's face as his fingers made exaggerated movements,
imitating sign language, and he tried again, now speaking slowly and emphasizing
"Spike! I said I'm hungry. Stop. For. Food."
Spike immediately began slapping the germ laden flying fingers from in front of his face.
"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Fine, yes. We need to check our directions anyway.
I just haven't seen anywhere appropriate for a good meal."
Xander's face scrunched in confusion. He had not only seen the passing billboards
but, out of boredom, taken to counting them. So far, McDonalds was in the lead with
23. In response to Spike's ignorant remark, Xander this time, took out a pair of
sunglasses, put them on and began feeling around himself as though he were blind.
"Where am I? Who are you? What is this place?"
Spike just shook his head.
"Oh for fuck's sake! Fine! There is a Cracker Barrel two miles up the highway at
the next exit. It is a chain so I'm sure they have certain standards they must adhere to.
We will stop there."
Xander grinned. Chalk up one for his side. He wished he could pull off his boots
and let his sweaty feet air, propped up on the dash but he was afraid the shock
would kill his jailer and why end the fun so soon?
Within minutes, the sleek, dark car pulled into the parking lot and proceed to the
far, empty corner where it stopped, in the center of two designated slots and he
turned the key to kill the ignition.
Xander craned his neck and held his hand over his eyebrows.
"Is that it? Two miles up the road? Do we hike from here?"
Spike just huffed.
"I am not parking anywhere that I might get struck by a careless patron hitting me
with a car door or a hooligan mother recklessly bumping me with a baby carriage.
Now if you are hungry, get out of the car, if not, let's just continue on."
Xander shook his head in disbelief and got out of the car. By the time they reached
the front door and the smiling waitress, the hunger demon devouring his belly wiped
all thoughts of Spike from Xander's mind. He was, however reminded of the
Goldilocks story when she tried to seat them. The first table was too close to the
main entrance. The second had squealing children nearby. The third was a booth
and by then she realized her error and let Spike choose for himself.
When she hurried off to get their water, Spike reached into his pocket and pulled
out the envelope tossing it on the table in front of Xander.
"I need to go wash up. The final driving directions and a map are in here along
with the key to the cabin. Read over them and when I get back we can discuss
how to get there."
Not waiting for a reply, Spike jumped from his seat and rushed off. Xander snorted
and shrugged. He then opened the envelope. He took out the instructions and the
map and laid them out on the table. When he glanced in the envelope he was startled
to see not only a key but several hundred dollars. He quickly looked around to
assure himself that Spike hadn't come back as his fingertips brushed the cash.
It would take only a second. Stick it all in his pocket, hot wire the car and be gone.
He could go anywhere. Hell, he could go on to the cabin and live free. He could
start a new life and be anything he wanted. Then he thought of Spike and for
some unfathomable reason, he didn't want to see the man loose his job. He might
still decide to do a runner, but for now, Xander left the cash in the envelope and
decided to stay.
Finally, a smiling Spike returned and sat back down. He shook out his napkin
and carefully placed it over his right knee. Xander was fuming.
"Jesus, fucking Christ! Where the fuck have you been? I'm fucking near starving
here and you were gone long enough to take a fucking bath?"
Before his tirade could continue, their waitress returned. Xander noticed with
some concern that she now appeared frazzled, her once smooth hair stuck up in
tufts and the smile on her face was strained and tight. She jerked a pencil out of
the rat's nest in her hair and looked at Xander.
"May I take your order?"
Xander relaxed and ordered the BIG breakfast. Eggs, meat, potatoes, biscuits and
gravy. He wanted it all and he wanted it NOW. She then turned and walked
away. Xander was stumped.
"She didn't take your order. Aren't you eating?"
"Ah, yes, after washing up I took a stroll through the kitchen. As I offered some tips
I also gave them my order with a few little requests. They were very accommodating
and I'm happy to report that the kitchen is spotless. I will remember that and eat at
the Cracker Barrel again."