Warnings: HAU, M/M sex, humour, mild violence, swearing, angst, OOC, vague mentions of het sex, prostitution, varying chapter lengths. UNBETA'D. A little use of movie dialogue and songs.
Rating: NC17 overall, various chapters PG-NC17
Pairing: 100% S/X (With vague reference to X/OC, S/OC pre meeting.)
Comments: Comment if you want to, though it would be nice to know someone is reading it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to someone who is not me. I write for fun not profit.
AN 1: Although Sunnydale characters have been used they are NOT necessarily in their Sunnydale persona's.
Note 1: This is set in the West of the 1880's, and it is not meant to be historically accurate. It mentions both the Mormon and Jewish faiths. This is fiction, it is a comedy, no disrespect is meant to either faith.
Note 2: My heartfelt thanks go out to my dear friend Bmblbee, for holding my hand through the writing and posting process. *Hugs*
Note 3: This is a plot driven story. What sex there is happens in the natural course of the plot and as part of Spike and Xander's relationship.
Summary: Xander Harris is a young, charismatic cowboy making his way gambling, petty thieving, womanizing and occasionally rustling through life. When he 'accidentally' steals $40,000 from the hapless Rayne gang, he and his clumsy, near-sighted horse Black Jack are forced to go on the run. He ends up in San Francisco, where he meets the handsome Englishman Spike 'Duke' Quaid, whore, con artist, bar tender and Saloon entertainer and their lives will never be the same.
Chapter 10/18 + Epilogue
Rating: NC17 Overall
Chapter 10/18 + Epilogue
Rating: NC17 Overall
'You can't hurry love'
Jack trotted into Virginia City about an hour before sundown. Xander looked around at the bustling streets and grinned. "Ah, my kind of town."
"And what kind would that be?" Spike asked.
"Any kind that's got my money in it." Xander's grin widened. "Right," Spike huffed. "just let me off at the poshest hotel in town, Widdicome is bound to be staying there."
"Uh, uh," Xander shook his head. "you're stayin' right where you are," Spike raised an eyebrow. "close by my side until I get my money."
"And suppose I don't wanna?" Spike protested.
"And suppose I tell Mr. Widdicome he hired himself the first Mormon male whore in history?" Xander threatened.
"Fine," Spike snapped "best find the stage depot then and get your damn money."
They rode around until they found the stage depot, pulled up outside and Xander swung down from the saddle and then Spike. The blond adjusted his clothes and strode into the depot, Xander on his heels. The depot was smaller than the one in San Francisco and completely deserted except for the clerk sprawled in a chair, sound asleep behind the counter. Xander looked around. To the right was a room with a large grille and 'Luggage Depository' on the door, behind the grille was a stack of luggage and nestling right on the top, the black bag. He nudged Spike. "Hey," he nodded. "there it is." Spike nodded, he strode up to the counter, glanced at the clerk asleep and then rang the bell for all he was worth. "Wakey wakey! Rise and shine mate, you've got customers!" He grinned as the clerk choked and jerked awake arms flailing. Xander sniggered. The clerk glared and staggered to his feet. "What can I do for you fellas?"
"We'd like that bag, the black one on top of the pile, please." Xander pointed. "And a ticket to travel to Salt Lake City with the Widdicome party." Spike added. Clerk scowled and scratched his head. "Widdicome's left over three hours ago."
"But they can't have," Spike shook his head. "I happen to know for a certain fact that's their luggage." Clerk looked. "Why sure, that's their luggage alright, but they've gone. It seems Mr Widdicome was real anxious to get home, so they took the two available stages and left their luggage to travel on the stage tomorrow." Spike and Xander looked at each other. Xander shrugged. "That doesn't matter we just need the black bag, now."
"Can't do it."
"Whatcha mean you can't do it? That's my bag." Xander scowled. Spike looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "I mean his bag," Xander corrected. "it's his bag."
Clerk looked between them. "Don't matter whose bag it is. That there luggage has been left in the responsibility of the company, and I ain't opening that depository before tomorrow morning' when the luggage is loaded onto the stage."
"To go to Salt Lake?" Spike confirmed.
"In the morning." The clerk agreed
"On the stage." Xander made sure.
The clerk nodded.
Xander and Spike looked at each other, Xander sighed. "How much?"
The clerk scowled. "Are you suggestin' what I think your suggestin'?"
"How much?" Spike echoed.
"Make it a hundred even, and I'll throw in a ticket to Salt Lake." The clerk grinned.
Xander counted out twenty dollars and looked at Spike, Spike shook his head. "How about twenty dollars and a roll in the hay with Blondie here?" Xander suggested. Spike spluttered and started to protest, Xander clamped his hand over his mouth. The clerk looked thoughtful. "That's mighty temptin' but I'll take the hundred." Spike snatched Xander's hand away and stalked out of the depot, Xander followed.
"What are you now? My pimp?" Spike glared. Xander shrugged. "I need some money for a stake in a poker game, fifty ought to do it so I need thirty." He looked at Spike speculatively. "Can you hold off on your ambition to bed down with one guy for tonight?" Spike scowled.
Spike lounged back against the corner of the building and tried to look alluring. Xander was hidden just out of sight. "I ain't gonna get a trick dressed like this." Spike whispered. "Well give me your damn jacket and open your shirt." Xander hissed. Spike passed Xander his jacket and unfastened his shirt. A drunk swayed and staggered into sight, Spike darted out and took his arm. "Fancy a blow job, stud?" He batted his eyes. The drunk grinned. "That's mighty nice of you young fella," he slurred. "don't mind if I do." Spike grinned. "You got a room handsome?"
"Room? Why I live here in town." The drunk grinned. "Well that's just splendid." Spike linked his arm. "Let's go." They set off along the street, Xander trailing behind.
They stopped at Mrs Murphy's Guest House and Spike and the drunk disappeared inside. Xander took a seat on the nearby bench and settled down to wait.
The drunk let Spike into his room. There was a bed, chair, bedside table and a dresser with a porcelain bowl and water jug. Spike stood near the dresser and grinned. "Well now, what say you take off your boots and drop trou and we can get this show on the road." The drunk nodded and grinned, bent over to take off his boots and Spike cracked him across the head with the jug, he slumped to the floor. "Sorry mate." Spike mumbled as he rifled his pockets. He found a derringer and looked at it and then slipped it in his pants pocket, never know when it might come in useful. He found the drunk's wallet, there was almost forty dollars, more than enough for Xander's stake. He stuffed it in his pocket and made his way hurriedly to the door, Spike looked at the unconscious drunk. "It's best like this stud, one of us woulda hated it." He dashed from the room, scrambled down the stairs and barreled into the street. Xander leapt to his feet, Spike looked wildly around and then spotted him.
Xander grinned. "That didn't take long."
"What can I say? Bloke had a hair trigger." Spike took his jacket and stuffed the forty into Xander's hand. Spike put on his jacket as they walked. "What now cowboy?"
"I go into the saloon, you give me ten minutes, by then I'll be in the game. you come in and find a drunk at the bar, watch for my signal and then................" Spike nodded.