bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
bmblbee
bmblbee
bloodclaim

Hope House

Title: HOPE HOUSE
4/46
Author: BmblBee
Paring: Primarily S/X with a very minor S/OCs.
Rating: NC17 Adult Reading
Disclaimer: The Bee has no claim on any of the characters or
products named in this story and receives no profit from anything.
Warnings: Adult language, Prostitution, Violence, strong sexual
content. NOTE: All the boys working in Hope House are over
the age of 18. The Bee does not do underage!

Summary: Long after the final battle of Sunnydale, Xander is
alone, his life in shambles. Is there anywhere he can go and anyone
who can give him hope? There just might be.





As always, kudos to Petxnd for the wonderful banner.


"Morning, Mum."

Spike sauntered into the kitchen of the huge hotel through the swinging
door off the lobby. His hair was mussed and he still wore his favorite
flannel sleep pants.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, filling his nose with the wonderful,
warm smell of the heady beef and barely stew that bubbled in the crock pot
by the stove.

"Morning Master Spike. Looks like you slept well today."

Mrs. Gessel leaned back against the sink and crossed her thick arms
around her stout body. Her greying hair was tied up in a bun and she
made no effort to cover the distinct points on her ears or the olive green
hue of her slightly scaly skin. Much to the contrary. In fact, pride of
her demon species had led her to have her new dentures made to
mimic the extended canines and the double wisdoms.

Everything about Judy Gessel was genuine, right down to the smile on her
face that reached to the wrinkled crows feet when she spoke to her master.

Spike dropped down in his seat at the breakfast table and gratefully accepted
the hot cup of tea she provided. He reached for the newspaper that was always
placed in exactly the same spot each day, untouched, unread until Spike had
finished with it.

"Yeah, I slept well. Overslept as a matter of fact. The boys all get out o.k?"

Mrs. Gessel fussed around the kitchen, stacking dishes and wiping the counters.
"They did, but if you don't mind me saying, that Jack was more obnoxious than
usual. Caught him bullying Tad again and tossing orders to Cam and Andre
like he was the master around here. Guess we both know why that is, don't we?"

"Mrs. Gessel."
Spike's voice had a slight tone of warning to it.

"It's because you let him into your bed again."
Judy intended to give her opinion, wanted or not.

"Mrs Gessel! I don't want...."
Spike crumpled the paper in his lap and turned his attention to the older Gaktel
demon.

"You know when you fill his butt with your penis, you are just filling his head
with thoughts of power. Did you know he tells the other boys that you don't
like them? That the reason you don't take them to bed is because they aren't
good enough for you? A good Master vampire would bestow his favors a
bit more generously. Maybe take two or three at a time."

"MRS. GESSEL!"

"WHAT?"
Far from being contrite, Spike's loyal housekeeper stood with her pudgy fists
on her hips and faced off with him. She was right and knew it. More than that,
Spike knew it too. He knew Jack was a master too. A master manipulator
and Spike had fallen for it once to often. Hastily, he folded his newspaper
and, with a grunt of disgust, slammed it down on the table. He scooted his
chair back and rose.

"I'm going out! I'll hear no more from you and when I get back, I expect
a fuckin' bowl of that stew to be waiting on me!"

Judy Gessel smiled and tipped her head to the side as he passed.
"Yes, Master. Would you like a quick bite before you go?"

Spike scowled and muttered under his breath.
"Quick bite, hell I should rip the bloody bitch's throat out."

Fifteen minutes later found him sitting in his beloved DeSoto. He was parked
on the corner of Fifth and Duke St. and had a clear line of sight into the
pancake house where he could clearly see Jack sitting with a plate of flapjacks,
drinking a cup of coffee and shooting the breeze with a young waitress.

When it was obvious the boy was not going anywhere anytime soon, Spike
cruised on down the street where he pulled up to the curb and rolled down
the window.

"Get in!"

The young, dark skinned boy hesitated for only a moment before complying.
He fumbled into his pocket and pulled out a handful of small bills that he
thrust toward the driver.

"Yes Sir. Sorry, but it's early. I only got a hand job that paid ten and after
I blew some guy he just gave me 20 instead of the 30 he promised.
I can do better. It's early. I'll get a full on before the night is...."

Spike took the offered cash and quickly counted it.
"Yeah, yeah, that's fine. See here, what I want to know is what Jack has
been up too lately. Is he working the line or not?"

Andre squirmed in his seat. He knew telling on Jack would get the shit
kicked out of him back at the house, but lying to the Master.....well, that was
just inconceivable.

"Dre?"

"Yes, Sir. No, Sir, he doesn't work. He said you put him out here to watch
us. Said his days of sloppin' was over and he was management now."

"And the money he turns in?"

Andre was almost relieved to get it all out.
"He takes it. At the end of the night, he goes down to the docks where the
scabs work and he beats them up. Steals the little bit they make. Most know
who he is....who you are, and they won't fight back."

Spike was furious. As much at himself as at the situation. Tonight, it would
end. Nodding, he handed the meager handful of bills back to the boy.

"Thanks. Keep this and keep your mouth shut. I'll see you back at the house
in the morning."

Quickly the boy exited and hurried back to his work station. Spike slammed
the car into drive, made a u-turn and headed back to Duke St. where he settled
in patiently to wait. He watched till, four hours later, Jack finally stood, stretched,
tossed a few bills on the table and left.

Spike continued to observe as he him picked up his pace and move purposefully
down the street and Spike followed, careful to keep a good distance between them.
Andre's information was validated when Jack turned onto Ocean Rd.
Spike parked and slipped out of the DeSoto, easing silently around till he
was within earshot.

He stopped and blended into the darkness of a nearby alley as Jack approached
a young man climbing out of a small Ford Focus. He watched as Jack slammed
the startled boy's head and face against the brick wall of the closed store front.
The boy made no effort to fight back when Jack knocked him to the ground and he
only covered his head when Jack took to kicking him in the back before riffling
through his pockets.

Spike made no move to interfere. When Jack had what he wanted and hurried
away, Spike moved closer. If the boy on the ground was dead, there was no
sense in wasting all that blood. If he was still alive, he might be worth salvaging.

When he was near enough to get a good whiff, the scent that assaulted his
nose stunned him. The distinct, familiar blood smell of ......

"Harris!"
Spike whispered the name. He stared at the crumpled mess for only a
second before backing quickly away.
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