I've had this chapter done for awhile now, but haven't posted because the next chapter isn't complete. But I've had such wonderful feedback lately from people just discovering this fic, that I'm making the time to get it done.
For those of you who read this story as it was posted, it's been many many months since the last chapter. I would recommend, if you have the time, to go back and read from the beginning, or at least the last few chapters, because this installment is written a little differently. Those of you who read my other fics Backfire and Listening & Lies know that I'm a fan of the dialog-only scenes. This chapter is mostly all dialog, with no "stage direction." If you don't know the characters, you may be a little confused. I didn't mean to start back up after a long hiatus with something so confusing - it just happened that way.
Previously on Felon Fodder:
Not since his time with Cordelia did Xander have so much fun kissing. This was different though because he didn’t feel like a teenager. He felt like a grown man making a very deliberate decision to share his passion with another man.
And the kisses were intense, but not mind-blowing. And he was hard, but not achingly. They were warm, but not overheated. Their hands roamed, but stayed above the clothes and only brushed lightly over new territory. They didn’t let it worry them, and neither pushed for anything more. It was a comfort. A comfort with no promises.
They would come up for breath from time to time, and Spike asked more questions about the demon and Watcher. Finally he said, “I just think it’s a little odd that a watcher shows up right when we need his services. Don’t you think we should probably check this guy out, somehow?”
Xander agreed. “I’ll call Giles tomorrow. Tell him about the Big Bad and see what he can dig up about Watcher.”
The kissing grew softer as the night fell deeper and soon they were asleep, foreheads pressed together, each with a satisfied smile.
Neither one of them noticed the beam of light that normally shown into their house was being blocked by a large figure at the window, watching. Quietly. Patiently.
Chapter 15 - One-on-Ones
“Collect call from Ely State Penitentiary for Rupert Giles. Will you accept the charges?”
“Dear Lord. Yes! Yes, operator, I accept. Xander?”
“Oh, God. I’ve been so worried. You haven’t called. You haven’t written anyone back. Are you alright?”
“I’m in prison, Giles. Not summer camp.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine. Really.”
“Dawn’s been wanting to send you some things, but you never wrote back to tell her what is allowed. Have you received the letters?”
“I got them. I cherish them. Tell her and Willow that I’m sorry for not writing back. I will. And I’ll try and explain it to them. But right now I’ve only got ten minutes and these calls are randomly recorded, so listen to me, okay?”
“Yes, yes. Go ahead.”
“I need information. Scooby info. Understand?”
“…Yes. What do you need?”
“Started six months ago. It got three. No discernable pattern or method, taking seemingly random internal parts. It’s got heart, lung, and kidneys. Last one was left a mass of muscle. Nothing else. It’s super-quiet, and it’s possible that locks don’t bother it. Got it?”
“I’m doing my own research here, but my resources are limited. Send me anything you can. I can receive books, up to ten.”
“Find out what you can about a retired watcher named Otis Walker. Do you know the name?”
“No, but I’ll see what I can find.”
“Okay. Thanks.” *sigh* “How are you, Giles? And our women? Tell me everyone is good.”
“Everyone is good, Xander. We miss you. We worry about you so much.”
“I’m holding my own.”
“Xander, I’m still looking for the girl. However, there’s not much to go on. Just your description.”
“I know it’s not a high priority. But I do appreciate it.”
“You’re wrong, it is the highest priority. It’s just that…there were no fingerprints, no trace, no evidence of her at all.”
“Now you’re sounding like the Las Vegas CSI.”
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
“My time’s almost up. I have to go. You’ll be research-guy for me?”
“Of course. Son… I’m not fond of you taking on this thing by yourself.”
“Not to worry, Giles. I’m not alone.”
“Fuck! Why on earth did I think that I could learn this fucking game?”
“Hey, I beat you in twenty moves that time. That’s three more than last time. You’re getting better!”
“Wanna play again?”
“Sure. So, how’s the infirmary working out for you?”
“It’s great! Most of the time I just sit and talk with Jackie. We play chess and sometimes cards with Nurse Adams.”
“But what do you do? What’s your job?”
“Oh, Nurse Adams lets me double check his work. Things like paperwork before it’s filed, or prescriptions before they’re picked up. Stuff like that. Sometimes I make sure the drugs and supplies are organized properly. And I play orderly to the occasional sick inmate.”
“How do you know about that kind of thing? I mean, how do you know about the proper drugs and medical forms.”
“My dad was sick when I was growing up. Mom wasn’t around, so I took care of things. Him. Then my little brother Scott turned up positive when he was seventeen and I tried to get him to take his meds but he just kept doing drugs, the wrong kind, and eventually everyone was gone.” *shrug* “Anyway, that’s when I learned about that stuff.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
*shrug* “Your move.”
“That’s a thing you like to do, isn’t it, Numbers?”
“If you knew that some people, people here in Ely, were in trouble - would you want to help?”
“Suppose if I could, I would.”
“Even if it was kinda dangerous?”
“Are people dying?”
“And if I help, even if it was dangerous, would it help people not die?”
“That’s the theory.”
“I don’t like it when people I love die.”
“These may be people you don’t even know, or don‘t like at all.”
“Don’t suppose that matters. I’m sure somebody loves them.”
“Again, that’s the theory.”
“I’ll help if you need me.”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Hey, BigBob. Where’s Justin?”
“He wanted a shower. Gator and Jesus are with him. Can I talk to you for a second, Harris?”
“Sit down. What’s up?”
“I’m worried about the kid.”
“He’s having pretty bad nightmares.”
“I woke up in a cold sweat more than once when I first got here.”
“Yeah, but he wakes up screaming. Just screaming and screaming, and he won’t let me near him to calm him down. It goes on forever.”
“Fuck, that’s Justin? That screaming’s been waking us up every night for the past week. Do you know what the nightmares are about? Is it Two Tear?”
“I ask him about it in the mornings, but he pretends not to know what I’m talking about. I was hoping…”
“You want me to talk to him?”
“He likes you. He trusts you. Maybe you can help.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“This is so fucking pointless!”
“Nothing in that one, either, I take it?”
“Christ, Watcher, there’s nothing in any of them. Where’d you get these books? Extinct Demons ‘R’ Us?”
“You know as well as anyone that most of the useful texts were blown up with the Council. Or the Sunnydale Crater swallowed them. Or were lost when Wolfram & Hart went belly up.”
“You’re just chock-full of positive thinking, aren’t you?”
“Rupert Giles hasn’t found anything, yet?”
“I called again at lunch, but he wasn’t available. He’s supposed to send something if he finds it.”
“Well, I must admit, that this entire exercise does seem a bit futile.”
“Wow, Watcher. Your British is showing.”
“Is it? It’s been a while since I’ve been able to stretch my watcher-muscles. Feels good, actually. I’m sorry my books don’t have the demon we’re looking for. Can you think of any other resource that might be available to us?”
“Well, Spike’s been talking with Gator. Trying to find out about the previous victims. Maybe they had something in common that’s attracting our beastie. It’s hard to keep Gator on one tangent, though, and he doesn’t like to speak of the dead. So, you know, challenging.”
“Who’s this, then?”
“Gator. He’s kinda our eyes and ears.”
“Yes, yes. Gator runs one the stores. Your building, I believe. I meant, who’s this Spike character?”
“Holy, fuck. I haven’t told you about Spike. All the booky mold must be rotting my brain. Spike’s my cellie.”
“Spike. Why does that name sound so familiar to me?”
“Oh, man, you ready for a story?”
“Dear Lord, anything that will allow me a break from these books.”
“William Pratt. AKA William the Bloody. AKA Spike. Part of the infamous vampire clan Aurelius. Member of the Scourge of Europe. The Slayer of Slayers. Master vampire. One time lover of the Chosen One. Ensouled vampire. One of two survivors of the Los Angeles Last Stand. Recently human. My cellmate. My friend.”
“Oh. That Spike.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“What? No! Why do think that?”
“Every time my dad took me into his office for a ‘talk,‘ it was because I’d done something wrong.”
“I’m not your dad, Justin. And this isn’t my office. It’s my house. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Listen, I just wanted to talk because BigBob and I are concerned. About you.”
“Haven’t even told you why yet.”
“Sit back down. Why are you all jumpy?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Justin, sit down. I wish I knew what you were so afraid of. Here’s something you need to know about me. I want all my friends to be happy. Okay, I get that that is a weird concept in this place, but we do the best we can. So when I hear about you having nightmares that throw you into screaming fits, then it keeps me unsettled and distracted until I can do something about it. So, please, help me out here, buddy. Tell me what the dreams are about, so I can at least pretend to help.
“I’m not an idiot.”
“Of course not. I only surround myself with smart people. Justin, I may not be able to help. But I am your friend, and I want you to trust me.”
“I do trust you.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“What? You’re whispering, Justin, I can’t hear you.”
“Nobody knows what?”
“What I saw. What I did.”
“Tell me. Then you won’t have to carry it yourself.
“I won’t stop being your friend. I promise.”
“I thought I was dreaming when I heard the screams. That’s why I didn’t get up right away. Maybe…maybe if I did, then I would have been able to stop it from happening. Maybe.
“I had gone to bed early that night, ‘cause I had a track meet in Laughlin the next day. Dad always stayed up to all hours, but I don’t know why Mom was still up. Dad was still screaming when I finally came out of my room. I didn’t have a weapon or anything with me. I kept a baseball bat next to my bed, but I didn’t bring it with me. I just walked out of my room with nothing to help, nothing to protect them. And I saw my mother standing at the end of the hall. And I called out to her, but she didn’t answer. And I noticed that she was just kinda floating there, and her head was flopped down, and she was kinda shaking all over, and that’s when I heard the laughter, and that’s when I saw the guy standing behind her. He was holding her up off the floor. Then he let go and Mom crumpled to the ground, and I saw his face.
“His face. It was all wrinkled and bumpy and his eyes were glowing. And he laughed and laughed and said, ‘There you are. Knew I heard somebody else. Was this your mommy? Polite woman, she was. Helpful. Sweet. A little spicy.’
“Then he stepped over her and came toward me. He just strolled down the hall real slow, and I just stood there. ‘Cause I wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t think, and I couldn’t move. Then he was standing in front of me, and he reached out and stroked my cheek with his fingers and they were wet and warm. When he pulled away he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them and groaned and that’s when I realized that it was blood. Then I saw the dark pool that my mom was crumpled in and it was her blood. And I stood there and stared at my mom. Then I stared at the man, licking and sucking his own fingers.
“Then he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close to him. And I still couldn’t move. Then he licked my face. That’s when I pushed him. I screamed and pushed him, and he stumbled back a couple steps and I ran down the hall and tripped over my mom and fell down.
“And that’s when I saw my dad in the living room. He was laying on the couch. Our white couch and it was red now. And there was a woman laying on top of him, and she was kissing his neck. But not really. She wasn’t really kissing him. And he wasn’t moving, but she was. Writhing and squirming. Moaning. I hadn’t realized that I’d stood up until a pair of arms slid around me, locking my arms to my sides. ‘Look what I found.’ the guy said, and the woman looked up, and her face was bumpy, too. She grinned and blood dripped from her mouth. From her fangs. And she said, ‘Dessert.’”
“Bloody hell. And he never told anyone?”
“Who would he tell?”
“How did he get away?”
“Said that they toyed with him a bit. Coated him in his parents’ blood. Both kissed him goodbye, then left.”
“Odd. Vampires who frame a human to take the fall. Don’t see that very often.”
“Poor kid was traumatized. He confessed to the murders rather than relive it. Maybe now that he’s told the story, he’ll be able to sleep.”
“Yeah, but in here. Kid doesn’t deserve this.”
“Do that again.”
“Mmm. I like when you touch me there.”
Xander was stretched out on his back, arms resting above his head, while Spike laid beside him on his side, fingers skating lightly over Xander’s body. Xander had lost his undershirt at some point during the conversation, and his boxers had slid down to just below his hips, exposing the tip of his erection. He wasn’t self-conscious about it. He could feel a matching hardness under Spike’s boxers pressing into his hip.
Spike’s fingers had found their way to the front of Xander’s hip. That sensitive area where leg met pelvis. Xander remembered that spot being ticklish when women had touched him there, but there was something in Spike’s caress that made him want to moan instead of giggle.
A piece of his brain told him that it was inappropriate to allow the naughty touching while discussing Justin’s tragedy, but “right time and place” had little meaning in Ely State Prison. You took what you could get, when you could get it.
Xander turned his head to look at his cellie as Spike pressed his fingers a little harder into Xander’s flesh. The conversation about Justin seemed to be over. Spike’s eyes had clouded over a bit and Xander felt Spike’s hips thrust forward a little.
The hand at Xander’s hip slid across his skin and the fabric of his boxers was pushed away as Spike wrapped his fingers around Xander’s penis. Xander closed his eye, threw his head back and gasped. With all the touching they had done in the last week or so, this was the first time that Spike had fully embraced him. Encased warmly in a strong hand.
With his eye stilled closed, he felt Spike lean forward a bit, then hot breath was against his ear. “Is this okay?”
Xander grinned a little and tried to come up with a reason why it shouldn’t be okay. Clearly this was supposed to be wrong. Wasn’t it? What made this any more right or wrong than any of the previous touching? But when Spike stroked his thumb up and down his full length, Xander broke into a hot sweat, and instead of answering he thrust up into Spike’s hand.
Suddenly Spike’s lips and hand were both gone. Xander’s eye shot open and he opened his mouth, prepared to chastise Spike for being a tease. But what he saw caused his brain to seize up and the only language that found its way to his mouth was, “Gah.”
Spike had lifted that gorgeous hand to his mouth, and was now wetly licking his own palm. It made a yummy slurp sound, and Xander almost came from the sight of it. When the now-slick hand came back to his dick, Xander thrust up into it immediately.
His body completely took over at that point. He vaguely felt Spike moving his hand along with his thrusts, but mostly he was just happy to push forward toward climax. His right hand came down from over his head to land on the back of Spike’s neck and he knew his fingers were pressing too hard into Spike’s flesh, but he could bring himself to care.
It wasn’t long before he spilled over the edge and he heard a noise in the room that sorta sounded like “Spike,” but that might have been in his head.
When the world came into focus again, Spike had already wiped his hand on Xander’s boxers and was now caressing Xander’s neck and cheek. When their eyes finally met, Spike pulled Xander toward him and captured his mouth in a hard kiss that left Xander completely at the mercy of Spike’s tongue.
Spike made grunting noises into Xander’s mouth as he ground his still covered erection into Xander’s exposed hip. It only took a few quick pumps and Spike was sharing Xander’s bliss. The kiss softened a bit, but their lips remained locked.
At some point, Spike finally pulled away. Xander realized he was still grasping the back of Spike’s neck and loosened his grip, but didn’t take his hand away. Xander searched Spike’s face, hoping that the right words to say would be etched somewhere there, but found nothing except flushed smooth skin and a slight uncertainty.
So instead of speaking, Xander smiled and was greeted with a smirk that was so Spike-like, that a part of Xander suddenly screamed, Vampire!
Fortunately, his mind cleared pretty quickly and he sighed sleepily, pulling Spike’s head down to rest on his chest.
The clank of the lock and scrape of metal sliders were so sudden, that Xander incorporated them into his dream. But because the dream was about him and Sharon waltzing in the desert, the sound made no sense. It took a violent steel-toed kick to the bed-slab, to rouse him from REM-state, and only then did he notice the burly C.O. towering over Spike and himself, entwined in each other’s arms, Xander’s boxers resting below his hips.
Burly C.O. slammed his nightstick into Xander’s cum-stained stomach. “Get up, faggot!”
TBC...in Chapter 16 - A Threat, or Possibly a Clue