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 strolled happily back into the living room with a cold bottle of beer
in each hand and a seemingly cheerful Angel right behind. When he saw
that Xander was nowhere to be seen, the fake congeniality evaporated.
He set the beer down and turned to Buffy.
"Where the hell is he?"
"How should I know? He said he was coming to look for you. What's the
Did he catch you two boys in a moment?"
A look of real concern shot between the two men and instinctively, Spike
patted his pocket to assure himself that the boy's cell phone was still safety
tucked away. An impromptu 911 call was the last thing anyone needed
Xander was again cocooned away in the library. He stood looking out of
the french doors trying to sort out and put some logic to the odd set of
circumstances he found himself in. Staring out, he found the grounds
of the courtyard gave him a sense of peace. Even overgrown and
choked with weeds, the garden was beautiful in the day's fading light.
When it came, he heard and chose to ignore, the light tapping on the
den's closed door.
"Pet? You in here?"
Xander clasp his hands behind his back but did not turn around.
"What do you want, Spike? I told you, I'm here to work and I don't want
to be disturbed."
Spike eased into the room. He slipped quietly up, glancing at the boy's
open laptop as he passed to assure himself that there was no form of
communication with the outside world on it. He relaxed and grinned at
the blank page. He then wrapped his arms around his boy and plastered
himself to the strong, broad back. Xander sighed but made no move
to dislodge him.
"What has you so enthralled out there, Love? All I see are weeds and
crumbling fountains covered with creeping ivy vines."
Xander allowed himself the temporary luxury of Spike's arms and he
"It's so beautiful. Even the weeds have a color, a strength and a purity.
tenacious. If you pull them, they will only grow back thicker and stronger.
Flowers won't do that. Flowers are prettier but they are temporary.
They take work to maintain, then, if you do even the littlest thing
wrong, they die off and disappear."
Spike nibbled on the side of Xander's neck and up to his ear lobe. Xander
tipped his head cooperatively.
"I suppose that's true, Pet, but for the short time they are around, the
flowers fill the air with color and fragrance. They are glorious while the
weeds are drab."
Xander stiffened and shifted his body weight back on to his own two feet.
"Who are you Spike? Buffy says she knows everybody in town and that
she has never seen you before. She says you don't belong here in the
mansion. Are you a thief? Are you playing me for a fool?"
Spike roughly gripped Xander by the shoulder and spun him around so
they were face to face and Xander was shocked to see the lightning
flash in Spike's baby blues.
"Is that what you think? Have you seen me make a move to steal anything
here? Besides, who made Buffy the town crier? Just so happens Ethan
just hired me a few weeks ago and I don't go in town very often. Fact is,
I have never seen her before either. Maybe she is the thief. Maybe
she is the imposter. Her and her big lug of a boyfriend. Doesn't it seem
odd to you that they came here? If her car broke down on the road,
why didn't she just walk back to town?"
Xander stared into the clear, sparkling blue eyes and he tried to process
all the points and counter points that Spike was throwing at him. Truth
was, they were all very valid. Everything Spike said made perfect sense.
Xander felt like a ping pong ball and wished he could pick a side and
land on it.
"Yeah, maybe, but what were you and Angel arguing about in the kitchen,
and don't deny it cause I saw you."
Spike snorted and stepped back, sticking his hands in the pockets of his
impossibly tight jeans. The eye contact broke and Spike's gaze shifted
"Oh, that was nothing. The fucking jerk was complaining that you and I
should have to pay half on the pizzas that he ordered and I told him 'no
fucking way'. Now, I did agree that we would kick in on the beer that
was coming but the pizza, hell no!"
Before Xander could answer, the loud, echoing "BOOM BOOM BOOM" of
the front door knocker resounded throughout the house and Spike's
face lit up.
"Well, well, speak of a fart, and a turd hits the water. Pizza's here!"
Ethan drove as quickly as he could. He had already been late getting
home twice this week and his partner, Carlos could be a real bitch when
the prime rib sat and got cold. In their early years together Ethan had
foolishly tried to end one of these argument by pointing out that Ethan
was the husband, the breadwinner and the master of the house.
The monumental hissy fit that had ensued left Carlos weeping and wailing
for nearly a week and Ethan sleeping on the couch. It was Ethan's first
clue that forgiveness did not come cheap. It had cost him several dozen
roses, a pair of diamond earrings, and a hot pink motor scooter that
Carlos is still seen around town on daily.
Carlos, on the other hand is the younger, flighty, sensitive one. A transplant
from Cuba, Ethan had met the boy at a Gay Pride street rally and they
had just clicked. Now, after nearly ten years together, the two men had
proved the saying 'opposites attract' to be very true. Yes, Ethan may be
an old gay fool, but he was a happy as fuck old fool.
Ethan thanked the Gods everyday for the spoiled, pampered Carlos and
that was why, when he zipped through the red light, he was able to easily
block out the waving finger, the shouted curses and car horns that followed
'Fuck 'em' He thought as he pulled in to the drive way, grabbed his briefcase
and rushed to the front steps. Before he had reached the top one, the
front door flew open and his sweet, thin, boyishly flamboyant lover bounded
out, clapping his hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Daddy's home. Daddy's home. Wha deed you breeng me?"
The sound of the deep Spanish accent rolling off the young man's tongue
had the expected result and Ethan felt his dick swell and move in his suit
pants. Roughly he swatted the boy on his small firm ass and he growled.
"If you don't get in there and fix me some dinner, I'll show you what I
brought you and you will be on your hands and knees when you get it."
Carlos' hands flew high in the air, flailing wildly as he squealed loudly, he
turned and ran back in the house. Ethan was hot on his heels. All signs
pointed to a really memorable night.
After changing his clothes, Ethan listened as his Spanish fly stirred the
spaghetti sauce and singing a hot, spicy Latin number, his bare feet slapping
regularly against the expensive tile floor in the kitchen. With time to spare,
Ethan went into the den to check his e-mails.
He had twenty new ones. Credit card offers...delete. Vacation contests....
delete. Catalog sales......delete quickly before Carlos sees. Offers to
enhance your penis size and prolong pleasure..........save for later. And
last but certainly not least, a message from Xander. Ethan chuckled and
wondered it the boy was ready to admit defeat yet. He clicked it open.
Like flipping a light switch, his good mode was gone. He read it twice and
all he could think was 'What the fuck?'
"Daaaaddy, Supper's ready. If you hurry you can lick the sauce off my finners."
Ethan's heart was pounding as he snatched up the phone and yelled back.
"In a minute, Sweety. I think we have a problem."