bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
bmblbee
bmblbee
bloodclaim

High Seas

High Seas
3/36

Author: BmblBee
Rating: Adult for language and sexual content
Paring: S/X
Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters or products named
in this story, however the plot and words are her own.
Warning: Violence (nongraphic) and strong M/M sexual content.

Summary: OCD Spike is back! It has been a year since Xander and
Spike met in Rough Diamond and they have been living and working
together ever since. As an anniversary present, Xander takes a reluctant
Spike on a gay ocean cruise and everything, including murder, goes with
them.

Appreciation to: Petxnd for her wonderful banner and patient preread
and to Silk_ Labyrinth for her beta. Any remaining boo-boos are the
result of the Bee's stubbornness.





Thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banner and the faithful friendship.



"Please Mr. Gay Man, sir. You must please leave my taxi. I need to go. I can
not be sitting here like this."

The broken, choppy English of the dark-skinned man hinted that Akmed would
have been much more adept at driving a camel than he was schlepping couples
and groups of raucous gay men from the city to the docks for the monthly cruise
departures.

Despite his strict Muslim upbringing, he had no personal feelings one way or
the other about these men and their odd leanings, especially considering their
tendency to tip generously. Tips that he was losing out on by this small man's
reluctance to vacate his backseat. Trying another tack, Akmed waved his
arms wildly around like a goose flapping its wings in the wind.

"Look, see, Mr. Gay Man. Look at all the fun you miss. You must go. You
must be fun and frolic with your gay man friends and do da tings dat you do."

This entire attempted eviction had, so far, gone unnoticed by Akmed's other
passenger. When they had pulled onto the drop-off area of the dock, Xander
had been overwhelmed. So much so that he had thrown open his car door and
jumped from the cab even before it had come to a complete stop. He whooped
and shouted as he spun in a full circle, endeavoring to take it all in at once.

The area had been set up to appear as though they were already on one of the
island stops in the Caribbean. There were several fake palm trees arranged in
circular, oasis-type areas with long bars serving fruity drinks to even fruitier
patrons.

There were black men dressed in colorful cutoff pants playing instruments that
filled the air with the tinny strains of pan music from the steel drums that spelled
Calypso. Music that was not lost or wasted on the crowds that had already
begun their vacations. Men dancing, drinking, shouting, laughing and bumping
and grinding together. Hundreds of men. Possibly thousands of men who
had already thrown the party into full gear despite they had yet to step foot
on the deck of the cruise ship.

And filling the background to all this activity and celebrating was the ship. Huge,
vast, massive and white. So white that it was nearly blinding as it gleamed and
reflected the bright sunshine and caused all that looked upon it magnificence
to squint and shield their faces.

All of this and more was what had taken Xander's attention as he had hurried
to the rear of the cab while the driver unloaded their bags. It was also what had,
for nearly five minutes prevented him from realizing that he was enjoying the
excitement alone. When he turned back to the taxi, Xander knew immediately
what was happening. Or in this case, not happening.

Walking over, Xander placed his hand on the top of the car and he leaned down
with his face in the open door as he looked in at his partner.

There he sat. In his three-piece suit, brand new shoes and a stoic, unyielding
expression on his face while he stared straight ahead.

"Spike. Get out of the cab."

Akmed took the boy's assistance with great encouragement.

"Yes, yes, you go now with your gay friend and you do the gay thing, yes?"

"No."

Xander took that one word as a move in the right direction. It was the most Spike
had said since they left the apartment an hour ago.

"Spike, you are being an ass. Get out of the cab."

"Send me a post card, Xander. Driver! Take me back home!"

Xander shook his head and Akmed threw his hands in the air. He began pacing
back and forth in frustration as he babbled in a language that Xander was grateful
he couldn't understand.

Bending his knees, Xander crouched down and he lowered his voice to assure
that no one but the two of them would hear. He then reached in, placing his hand
on top of Spike's.

"Listen to me, Spike. I have been telling you about this trip for three weeks and
although you refused to answer me, I know you heard. Now trust me. I have
taken every precaution. I have made all the arrangements and I have everything
we need. Hey, we survived a week in the cabin in the woods didn't we?"

Spike snorted his disgust at the memory but he did turn and face his lover with
eyes so pitiful that it wrenched at Xander's heart.

"Right that. Nothing to sink in the middle of the forest."

Xander groaned and rolled his eyes, yet the smile never left his face.

"Spike, this is the Solstice not the Titanic. I told you to stop watching that gay
porn flick, The Crossing. The odds of us hitting an iceberg in the middle of
the Caribbean are slim to none. None, Spike. Make that none to none."

Spike shrugged his shoulders. He had to admit, that point went to Xander.
He also had to confess that he appreciated the fact that Xander wasn't
confronting him with the ultimate point of a promise that Spike had foolishly
given. That simply wouldn't have been kosher.

Now, as he looked into the bright, hopeful face of his lover, his rigid, stiff body
relaxed marginally. He knew from the past twenty-one days' worth of constant
babble that this trip meant the world to the boy. Why, he couldn't imagine yet
he could read the confirmation as Spike stared into the love and trust of the
dark brown eyes.

Gently, Xander gave the hand he held a tug. It met with no retraction or resistance
so he tugged again, harder this time. Much to his delight and relief, he saw Spike's
legs gingerly ease and turn to the side. Pulling with a bit more force and direction,
Xander was finally able to pry Spike's body from the backseat of the taxi cab.

The second he was out, Akmed, in fear that he may leap back in, slammed the
car door. He then darted around to the driver's side, hopped in the front seat and
squealed the tires as he sped away.

Fuck the tip.

"I really don't think..."

"Trust me, Spike. This is going to be incredible! And the best part is that it is
my gift to you. I paid for everything myself with money I saved from my job.
Not like before when I....."

"Xander. Please don't."

Xander laughed and pulled the smaller man into his arms for a tight embrace
before kissing him deeply on lips that began tight and hard, and melted into soft
and open. By the time Xander's skillful tongue had done its best, Spike was,
if not convinced, at least a bit more receptive.

Xander grabbed his hand.

"Come on. Let's get our bags and get on board. Damn, Spike, look around.
I had no idea there were this many gay men in the whole damn world! Hey,
look at that guy, he's...."

Xander's sentence died as he noticed Spike standing staring at their suitcases
with a scowl on his face and his hands on his hips. Xander cringed and an 'Oh
fuck' skittered through his brain as he watched Spike reach for his cell phone and
begin to dial.

"Put it away, Spike."

Spike continued to dial as he tapped his foot impatiently and huffed and fussed.
Xander walked over and took the phone, snapping it shut. Spike reacted with
the expected outrage.

"Give me that back! That thieving cab driver has stolen half of our baggage.
I am missing two suit bags, a steamer trunk and one...no, two carry-ons.
I hope you weren't foolish enough to give that pirate a tip. Now give me the
phone so I can ring the locals and they can arrest and flog him immediately."

"We have all our bags, Spike."

"Of course we don't, I just told you that.... Oh, dear lord. What have you done,
Xander?"

Xander whooped with glee and excitement as he threw the straps of the two
shoulder bags, one over each arm, before picking up one of the larger cases. Then
without waiting for any more questions or complaints, he darted off toward the long
extended gang plank, knowing that Spike would have little recourse but to grab the
remaining bag and follow.

Which he reluctantly, and with extreme trepidation, did.
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