S/X do Bonnie & Clyde
Rating: Overall NC17
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or products named
in this story and have no relationship to the original movie.
Summary: This story was written for the movie challenge at UX.
It is my take on Spike and Xander in Bonnie and Clyde.
Warnings include violence, bad language and strong M/M sexual content.
As always, hugs and thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banner.
Frank Hamer sat in the hotel dining room sawing through the tough piece
of pounded beef with a dull steak knife. He had been in this God forsaken
part of Texas for three days investigating the Western Union robbery
and he was no closer to catching Spike Barrow than he was before.
No one knew the name of the second man involved in the robbery and
it wasn't entirely clear if they were actually together or if they just
joined up for this one job.
The only thing Frank knew for sure was that his position as head of the
Texas Rangers was shaky at best if he let Spike Barrow slip through his
fingers once again.
With the tiny, delicate china cup cradled in his huge paw like hand, Frank
swallowed the last of his coffee before lowering his head and again attacking
the piece of rubbery, overcooked meat.
"Mr. Hamer? Mr. Frank Hamer?"
Frank looked up from his dinner. The man asking was old. Probably no more
than 40 in actual years but his body was bent close to 60 by the beating life was
giving him. It was a look Frank saw often now days. Ordinarily, Frank hated to
have his meals interrupted but he had already given up on this one so, he
thought, what the hell.
"Yes, I'm Frank Hamer. What can I do for you?"
That's when Frank first noticed the small blond boy attempting to hide behind
his father. The older man stepped aside and grabbed the boy roughly by the
arm and jerked him forward. From the looks of the black eye the kid sported,
harsh treatment was no stranger to him.
"Look here Mister, this here is my boy, Andrew and he has something he wants
to tell you, but first, we needs to know, is there still a big reward on them
Frank Hamer had been head of the Texas Rangers for three years now. He had
worked his way up and earned every promotion through diligence, dedication,
long hours and a strong dose of intuitive understanding of people and situations.
In short, Frank Hamer could smell bullshit a mile away. He could also smell the
truth and his little alarm bells were telling him that this scrawny, dirty farm boy
may just be the answer to his prayers.
After wiping his mouth with his linen napkin, Frank pushed aside his plate, noting
the way the boy was eyeing up the unwanted food, and he sat back in his chair
giving them all his attention.
"Yes Sir, that reward money is sitting snug as a bug in a rug in the bank just waiting
on someone to claim it. Course, it isn't just going to be handed away. We need solid
proof. We need information that will lead to their arrest or capture."
Herb Wells nodded his head and clutched his hat in his hands nervously.
"Dead or alive?"
Frank shrugged. He preferred dead, but sure.
"Yep. Dead or alive. So what have you got?"
Quickly and without waiting to be asked, Herb pulled out a chair and sat down.
The scowl on his face told the boy to do the same. Andrew sat but was unable to
tear his eyes off the unfinished plate till his Father got his attention with a sharp
smack to the back of the head.
"Tell him, Boy. Just like you told me and if you lie or make stuff up, I swear I'll tear
the ass right off of you."
Andrew hated telling on the gang. He had almost felt a part of them but this was
the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him and now, sharing it with the
man who was the actual President of the Texas Rangers, well that was just to good
to be true. He felt like he was up on one of them fancy stages like at the
Grand Ole Oprey.
"Well, there I was, right on to a week ago when........."
"The boy was headed to town with my truck when he got himself kidnapped."
"PAAAAA. I'm tellin' this story. You wasn't even there."
"Why, you smart mouthed little shit head!"
Immediately, Herb began smacking the boy on the back and head for his insolence
as Andrew ducked and dodged in a well practiced manner. Frank just rolled his eyes
and sighed. He had no problem with a Father beating some respect and sense into
his own son, hell most boys that age needed a regular whipping to keep them on the straight and narrow, he just didn't have the time or patience for it right now.
"Mr. Wells. Look, I know how stressful this whole situation must have been for you.
Why don't you go outside and get some fresh air and let me talk to Andrew alone.
Tell you what, how about you take one of my own personal cigars out and have
Herb's eyes lit up at the sight of a real cigar and he mentally did the calculations figuring
he could make it last for a good three or four days if he smoked it conservatively.
With one last swat and a warning, he took the offered tobacco and left the restaurant. When he was gone, Frank slid his unfinished plate over, offering it to Andrew.
"Now, start from the beginning and tell me everything."
Andrew dove in to both the food and the story with gusto. He told how his truck had
been commandeered and he had been taken hostage. He lightly peppered the tale with descriptions of how the bloodthirsty couple held a gun to his head and threatened to
shoot him if he didn't keep his mouth shut and cooperate. Frank doubted the truth
in that, but made no move to interrupt.
As Andrew continued, Frank took out a small notepad and he began making notes.
The boy was a fountain of information and it spewed forth like a waterfall. He knew
the name of the accomplice. One Xander Harris, and he knew where they had taken
him, due east toward the Oklahoma state line. Andrew gave the location of the Paradise Cabins Motel and that they had stayed the night there.
Frank was stunned when Andrew calmly tossed out the bombshell that the gangsters
had been joined by Spike's brother Buck and his crazy sister-in-law, Drusilla. Frank's
heart rate escalated when Andrew told him about a planned bank robbery across the
state line and the fact that they were going to all do the job together.
Frank was boiling. While he had been sitting here with his thumb up his ass, the
Barrow gang were pulling another job. A big one from the sounds of it. If they had
done it in Texas, he would have been notified but there was little, if any, contact
between different state agencies. They could be anywhere by now.
"When were they going to do this job, Andrew?"
Andrew swallowed the last of the baked potato and he grinned.
"It was the day I finally escaped and headed for home so it would have been three
days ago. I was lucky to get away with my life."
"Yeah, right, I'm sure it was harrowing. So, where did Spike hook up with this Xander Harris? Did they seem to be together? I've never known of Spike to work with a
partner other than his brother."
Andrew snickered and his face went beat red with the blush that warmed him.
"Oh, they was together all right. They was all the time touching on each other in
them dirty places and they was kissing like a man and a woman does. Course I
don't think that stuff is right, but I was tied up and they made me to watch."
Frank could tell by the way the boy was twitching and wiggling in his seat that the experience wasn't quite as horrible as he was making it out to be, but the information
was startling and something that he knew would be valuable later on.
As Andrew sopped up the last of the gravy with the final scrap of bread, Frank was certain both the dinner and the story had reached it's conclusion. He was anxious to get to a phone
and call the head of the Oklahoma state police. If he rounded up all his investigators,
they could be on the road within the hour and headed for the scene of the latest robbery.
Before dismissing Mr. Wells and his son, Frank got his name and address with the promise
of contacting him if the reward money was to go his way.
Armed with this information and hooked up with the adjacent state agencies, Frank was
certain that this time he had them. This time, Spike Barrow and the Barrow gang were as good as his.