Title: Writer's Block
Rating: NC17 overall.
Disclaimer: The Bee owns nothing. Certainly not the characters or products
mentioned in this story and unfortunately, the Bee makes no profit from it.
Summary: This story is a light hearted comedy/mystery.
It is based slightly (very slightly) on the plot of the old movie
"House Of Long Shadows". It is an HUA that tells the story of a very successful
mystery writer, Alexander Harris, who is suffering from a severe case of writer's
block. Against his better judgement, he accepts a $10,000.00 bet with his
publisher after claiming he can crank out a full manuscript in a 24 hour period. This
short story is his struggle to do that and the bizarre obstacles that pop up.
Warnings: Sexual dialogue and M/M slashy acts.
As always, special thanks to the amazing Petxnd for her wonderful banners.
Spike was already plastered on Xander's side, nibbling his neck. One hand
was rubbing small circles on Xander's back as the other hand roamed down the
boy's chest, stomach and stopped only when the fingertips breached the beltline.
When no resistance seemed to be forthcoming, Spike swayed in small steps till
he had moved around pressing their bodies close together and he began to dance.
Xander's body separated itself from his mind and he allowed the soft strains
of the music to seep into his bones and flesh as Spike's warm hands caressed
and guided him. Xander's face tipped down and his eyes drifted closed while
Spike took the lead in both the dance and the kissing.
Together, in time with the rhythm, they stepped and shifted. Every once in
a while, Spike would reach up and lightly brush is lips over Xander's,
sometime swiping his tongue across the seam of Xander's closed mouth.
Sometime bumping noses teasingly. All the time rubbing and deep massaging
the cheeks of his boy's ass.
Xander had no idea why he was acting so totally out of character, but for
now, he couldn't deny how absolutely right it felt to be in the blond's arms.
Soon, like all foolishly good things in life, the music ended. When it did,
Xander was thrust rudely back to reality when Two Points smacked him soundly
on the seat of the pants.
"WooHoo! You two are fucking hot stuff! Ain't they hot, Babe?"
Before Buffy had the chance to answer, Xander stepped back. He shuddered
and tried to ignore the raging hard on that was beating it's head against
his zipper in a frantic attempt to escape. He then took a deep breath and
held up both fore fingers.
"Wait a minute. Just wait one fucking minute. Who the fuck is he and why
the fuck is Buffy still here?"
Buffy wrinkled her nose up before climbing on the lap of the big guy and
squiggling around till his eyes went hooded and his smile turned goofy.
Spike gave them the 'get a room' glare before turning back to his own
"That's Angel. He's Buffy's boyfriend. She called him to come and fix
her car but apparently the hyperpictin had blown a seal and he can't get
a replacement till later. The garage mechanic in town is supposed to
run one out as soon as possible. You don't mind do you Pet? We promise
to be quiet as little mice."
Spike then made skittering mice fingers all up and down Xander's ribs
causing him to squeak and writhe, swatting the hands away happily.
"Oh, well yeah, if it's the hyperpictin, but then they gotta go. Right?"
Spike gave Xander on more little peck on the lips.
"Oh, right as rain, Pet. Right as rain. Now, why don't you have a seat
and let me run back to the kitchen and bring us all another beer."
Before Xander could answer, Angel stepped up, blocking Spike's exit. He
had an oddly serious look on his face and he glared into Spike's eyes.
Spike appeared, for a moment to be ready to protest, then thought better
before slapping the big guy on the back congenially.
"Sure thing Peaches, sure thing."
Spike's smile was tense and strained but he made no protest and the two men
walked off together leaving Buffy and Xander alone. Quickly, he slid to
the far side of the couch to avoid anymore of her advancements. He needn't
have worried, she seemed to have cooled considerably and was now more
interested in talking than groping.
"So, Xander, how long have you known Spike?"
Something about her suddenly mature and serious voice made the cactus of
unease prickle him in the spine with it's needles.
"Not long. I just met him when I came up here today. Spike is the
Buffy snorted, crossed her arms on her chest and shifted her weight to her
other butt cheek.
"Bullshit. I have lived in town all my life and I know everybody and
everything. I have never seen him before and besides, this house doesn't
have a caretaker."
"Oh yeah, Miss Smarypants. Well maybe you don't know everything."
Buffy just rolled her eyes at his immature retort. For an author, his
vocabulary certainly seemed stunted.
"Well, I know one thing. If Spike is a caretaker, I'm an astronaut."
Every insecure cell in Xander's body exploded, flooding his senses with
self doubt and embarrassment. Had he really let a con man feel him up
in front of all these strangers? Xander was suddenly very uncomfortable.
He needed answers and he wanted them all to go. With or without their
Xander turned an angry eye toward the door way that led to the kitchen
"What the hell is taking them so long?"
Buffy's shrug of disinterest only made him madder and out he went. He
stomped past the formal dining room and as soon as he reached the butler's
pantry, Xander could hear voices.
They were low, angry voices. Creeping up he slowly eased the kitchen door
slightly open and he peeked in. From his position he could not be seen,
but he could clearly see the two men who were intense and angry.
Spike and Angel were standing by the sink on the far side of the kitchen.
Their faces were flushed red and their bodies looked tense as strung wire.
Xander couldn't make out the words in their hushed, growled tones but he
knew for certain that whatever they were arguing over, it was not a car
part. No, if he didn't know better, Xander would swear this discussion
Silently, Xander backed away. He rubbed his hands roughly over his face
and he tried to think clearly. 'What the fuck is going on here?' He
needed answers. but more than that, he needed to get started on that
damn story. Spinning around on his heels, Xander ran back to the den.
He reached for his cell phone only to remember that Spike had taken it and
never returned it. Quickly, he popped the satellite card in his laptop
and he fired off an e-mail. If Spike was not the caretaker, Ethan would
take the hint and call the cops. If he was, a humble, apologetic reply
would go a long way to allaying Xander's fears.
Great house. Story is coming along amazingly well. Oh, by the way, I met
the caretaker, Spike. I had no idea you had someone living here. In the
mansion. Spike is a very interesting character. Ha ha. See you soon.
Xander then hit 'send' and he felt better already. Now all he had to do
was wait for a reply. He glanced down at the clock and moaned at the sight
of the 7. and the blank screen. The sun would be setting soon and his
writer's block was still firmly in place. It was time for a real heart
to heart with himself.
"Get a grip, Xander. You have just wasted 7 out of your 24 hours. Stop
worrying about those people out there. Ignore them. They will be gone
soon. It's all about the story. There is still time. You can still do
this. Hey, maybe you have been coming at this from the wrong angle.
Just because all your other stories were mysteries, doesn't mean this
one has to be. Maybe a comedy or a love story. Fresh idea, fresh plot.
That's it! Alrighty now."
Xander opened a new page and quickly started to type.
"It was a dark and gloomy night and the two vampires walked hand in hand
through and around the heavy tombstones. The larger of the two fiends
was dark haired, more muscular in life, he was the alpha in death and the
smaller blond vampire worshiped him. As they passed a particularly old statue of an angel, the dark vampire paused then punched it in the face. He always hated angels."
Xander read what he had written and grinned a maniacal grin before hitting 'delete'.