40/43
Author: BmblBee
Paring: S/X
Rating: NC17
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.
Spike and Xander were faced with the biggest dilemma of their entire time
here in the wilderness. Did they drag their exhausted, spent bodies to the
soft warmth of the double bed with it's wooly blankets or do they stay here,
slumped like boneless slugs in front of the fire to sleep?
It was dusk and the setting sun no longer filled the cabin with usable illumination,
only deep shadows that meant they needed to light the lanterns if they hoped
to move around without stubbing toes or cracking shins.
The rain had stopped and they could hear the crickets outside competing with
the chirping tree frogs to see who could sing the longest and the loudest.
The muted radio still played in the background and the fire was again reduced to
hot red coals.
Spike would have voted to stay but he could feel his blood sugar dip and his bladder
fill, neither of which could be ignored for long. Reluctantly, he rolled over in his lover's
strong, safe arms.
"I'm hungry and I have to pee."
Xander chuckled and opened his eyes.
"Nothing I can do about either of those but thanks, now that you mention it, I need to
piss too. Tell you what, why don't you go find your favorite tree and after you water
it, start some dinner. I had Andrew bring a couple of steaks."
Spike tried to look mad but failed miserably.
"So, what is your lazy arse going to do while I am at all that?"
Xander rolled over on his side and tugged the smaller man against him. He then
began loudly and dramatically nibbling and devouring his shoulder, neck and ears.
"I'm going to rest up so that later on you can arrest me for another breaking and
entering charge."
Spike giggled like a school girl before catching himself, clearing his throat and
answering in a deep baritone.
"We'll just see who does the entering, you shameless felon! Now, if it weren't for the
fact that I'm about to urinate on myself, I'd teach you a thing or two about respect!"
Before Xander could reply, his lover was gone. The silence that surrounded him
filled him with a peace and contentment that he had never known in life. He
wished time would stop and that they could live like this forever.
Xander again closed his eyes and dozed off.
The next time he woke, it was to an odd sound that had crept into his sleepy brain.
nudging him from a sweet, vague dream. It sounded like Spike. It sounded like
he was standing in a long, deep tunnel calling to him. Calling his name. Xander
blinked and cleared his mind, trying to focus. THERE! He heard it again.
He pulled himself to a sitting position and he called back.
"Spike?"
He received no answer. Xander scratched his head and rubbed his hands over
his face. He strained to hear, but there was nothing. No birds, no crickets, no
Spike. In fact it was that total lack of anything that concerned him the most and
Xander leapt to his feet, now fully awake and alert.
"SPIKE!"
This time he heard the response. Soft, muted, and distant. The only thing
Xander could discern was that Spike was somewhere outside.
"Xander"
Still naked, Xander rushed through the cabin, into the kitchen and out the back door
landing in bare feet on the cold, rain dampened grass. His eyes struggled to adjust
to the now total lack of light until he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
He cautiously stepped toward the edge of the clearing, stopping when he saw the
tall weeds rustle and part.
"Spike?"
"Stay calm, Pet. Don't move. Don't come any......."
Anything else he was about to say was cut off as the huge, dark, paw like hand
clamped over Spike's mouth.
Xander's eyes tore away from the false calm on his lover's face to focus on the sneering
man behind him. He had Spike pulled tightly against his chest. One hand was
sealed over Spike's mouth and the other held a sharp, long serrated butcher knife
flat against the skin of the detective's throat.
Xander felt the hair raise on the back of his neck. Panic flooded his body with
adrenalin and his fingers twitched. He wanted to scream. He thought about
running back to the cabin to get Spike's gun, but he knew with absolute certainty
that when he returned, Spike's throat would resemble Joey's.
When Xander felt like he could speak, he held his head high and his voice strong.
"Carlos."
Spike's captor took a step closer, muscling the smaller man with him and he
laughed.
"So, dey tell you my name, yes? You call me Curly when I fuck you. You
call me dat like we was friends. But we no friends, no? Friends no steal
from each oder. You steal from Carlos. yes?"
Xander's body shuddered from the cold and shock yet the calm trusting
look in Spike eye's gave him strength.
"What did I steal from you? I earned that money. That was business. You
fucked me, you paid me. That's it. Is that what all this is about?"
Carlos threw his head back and he screamed in frustrated fury. The hand
that was held over Spike's mouth now grabbed a fist full of the blond hair and
he jerked it back, exposing the detective's long pale neck. Pressing the knife
just a fraction of an inch tighter against the flesh, Spike felt the sting as the point
nicked the skin.
When Xander saw the small rivulet of blood trickle down and stain the collar of
Spike's shirt, he threw both hands up.
"NO! Stop! What is it? What do you think I stole from you?"
Carlos' chest heaved. He wanted this over. He wanted his property so he could
satisfy his bloodlust and butcher these two stupid fucks. That was the only
thought that kept him under control.
"You wear it now. You stupid white boy! You steal from Carlos den you
flaunt it in my face. You wear it now."
Suddenly, as though the sun had come up at midnight, the blast of knowledge
rocked Xander to the core. He had caused this. Joey's death and possibly Spike's
was all his fault. He had stolen it and promptly forgotten all about it.
Without conscious effort, Xander's fingers went to his ear.
The earring!
"All this is over an earring? You killed Joey because of an earring?"
"You give me NOW!"
"NO! Xander, don't do it! There's a bigger reason than one small diamond.
He wouldn't put himself under the law's microscope over an earring."
Xander froze. He knew Spike was right, still he didn't care why the dangerous
drug dealer wanted the stupid piece of jewelry. If it meant he would let them live,
he could have it.