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White Lightnin'
by
BmblBee
Part Twenty-Six
Silently Spike cried himself to sleep. He was so angry at Xander for lying to him, he couldn't think straight. And how dare he throw Spike's job up in his face?
He hadn't thought of himself as a government agent for a long time, and he knew it wasn't something he was planning
on returning to even after he was healed.
He was so flustered and addled by drink he hadn't even thought to ask how Xander found him out. Probably didn't matter anyhow.
Spike could have kicked himself.
He had let his heart spin a fantasy of the two of them living together on this mountain. Growing old together and caring
for each other. Thoroughly broken, Spike sobbed till he fell asleep.
Furious, Xander returned to the barn to assess the damage to his beloved Lincoln. Circling, he found it seemed to be
only the windshield. Something that could be replaced without a lot of expense and work.
There was no damage to the body of the car, which he was grateful for. "Must have been too fuckin' drunk to do a proper job." Xander snorted and lightly kicked the tire.
Too bad the damage to his heart could not be fixed as easily. Telling himself the sorrow was for his car, Xander sat behind the wheel and let the tears fall.
Everything had been so wonderful this morning. Now it was all gone. Slipped through his fingers like water.
Curling into a fetal position on the front seat, Xander also finally dozed off.
Waking slowly, Xander was momentarily confused as to why he was laying on broken glass in his car. It took only seconds for it all to rush back in and overwhelm him with the depression of it.
Rubbing his hands roughly over his face, he climbed out and brushed the shards off his clothes. Sniffing, he wiped his nose on the back of his arm and began preparing the car for the run.
He straightened the cases and counted the jugs. He cleared the broken glass off the seat and shook the floor mats.
He felt numb. He was no longer mad. He was nothing.
Entering the cold dark cabin he saw Spike shivering on the bed in his sleep. Yesterday he would have covered him with a quilt. Yesterday he would have laid down and covered him with a blanket of Xander and cuddled him.
With a mental slap, he knew what had to be done. "Get up, Spike. It's time to go." Xander kicked the bed frame then turned to reset the fire logs. He would light it when he got back. Alone.
Groggy and badly hung over, Spike sat up and scratched his head. Against his better judgement, Xander turned and looked at him. Spike seemed so small and fragile on the bed. His blue eyes bloodshot and squinting. His blond curls were bed mussed.
Xander remembered when he had done that to Spike's hair. The numbness wore off in an instant and the pain doubled and crushed him.
Xander turned his back to Spike and gripped the mantle of the fireplace to regain control of himself. Without looking back he walked to the door, pausing only to say, "You have two minutes. I'll pick you up out front."
Spike watched him go and knew all hope walked out the door with him. He tried so hard to focus and understand everything that had happened but his head was splitting and his stomach wanted to explode.
He didn't blame Xander for hating him. He was a sloppy, stinking drunk. Just like Xander had said. That much he remembered clearly.
He also found it hard to recall what it was that he was so angry about. Because Xander had booze and wouldn't give it to him? 'No, that would have been the worse thing he could have done. Instead he held me through the shakes. Rubbed my back and took care of me.'
Spike eased himself out of the bed and began collecting his few belongings, tossing them into his suitcase. It took only one of the two offered minutes. He had nothing that required the extra time.
He heard the rumble of the engine when Xander started the car. He watched from the porch as it pulled forward. It really was beautiful. Spike knew next to nothing about cars, but he knew perfection when he saw it. Sleek dark, and powerful.
He winced when he saw the damage that he had done. Just one more thing in his life that he had ruined.
"Get in Spike." Xander reached over and pulled the handle on the passenger door.
"Xander. I..." Spike wanted very much to apologize for the broken glass. He had no right. If only he hadn't been drunk
maybe they could have talked. Maybe.
"Don't! Whatever you're gonna say, just don't. We should be there in thirty minutes. Just sit there and don't talk."
Xander knew if Spike said anything at all he would cave.
Spike could talk about the price of pork bellies and Xander would melt. He had to remain strong. Get this man out of his car and go on with his life. What else could he do?
The woods were silent save the sound of the massive V12 motor flying down the barely distinguishable dirt lanes.
Xander knew this mountain like the back of his hand. The dips and turns, the pitfalls and soft spots.
Too bad he didn't know his own heart as well. Xander stared straight ahead. Spike watched out the dark side window.
When he knew he was less than a mile from the town, Xander turned off his headlights and slowed to a stop.
"Towns that way. About a fifteen minute walk. Bus should be leaving first light. Oh, and Spike, if you're coming back to
arrest me, please send someone else. I don't want to ever see you again." All that was said quietly, without ever taking his eyes off the road ahead.
Mustering all the false bravado he could, Spike snorted. "You aren't important enough to arrest, Xander. And don't worry, I have no desire to return to this shit hole."
Spike hoped Xander hadn't heard his voice crack on the last of that pathetic farewell. He collected his bag and had no more than stepped out when the car roared to life and sped off.
With a deep sigh, Spike turned and walked away.
Part Twenty-Seven
The winter had been long and harder than usual. Xander kept busy, throwing himself into his chores and not allowing his mind to wander any further than the task at hand. He exhausted his body till his brain couldn't think.
He had cleaned and reoiled his traps, doubling his catch from the previous year. The pelts were skinned and stretched in the air to dry.
He knew when he took them to town for sale it would bring enough money to see to all his needs for months. He could buy seeds and canning jars for his garden, and the basic supplies of flour, coffee, and lard. Yes, Xander had everything he needed.
Christmas had come and gone with no note taken of the day. The new year the same. The day didn't matter since he had made his resolutions long before that.
The still had been dismantled and the cave closed over. A trip to the junk yard found a windshield that fit the car
perfectly. The seats were put back in and the car parked. Xander still lovingly washed and cared for it, but no longer
took it on the adventurous treks through the mountain trails.
Time spent in the Lincoln was painful. It often forced him to recall the last night he took it out. His heart twisted when he remembered nearly tossing Spike out the door and driving away.
He didn't make his run that night, instead driving straight to Percy's Tavern to see old Joe Smith. Pulling in to the rear of the building, Joe had come out to greet him as he always did.
"Xander, my boy. You're early. Come in. Sit with me for a while." Walking to the side of the car and peering in, Joe's brow wrinkled. "You got a full load. You not drop off at your other stops? Hey, who broke your window?" Joe backed up looking all around "You got revenuers on your tail?"
Quickly Xander reassured him, "No, Joe. Just had a little accident. It's o.k. I'm just not making deliveries any more. I'm out of business. This is the last of my stock. You want it, you can have it. No cost."
Joe walked over and put his arm around Xander's shoulder. "Come in boy. You look like you need to talk." Fighting hard to keep the tears at bay, Xander nodded.
Once he settled into a chair in Joe's back office, Xander broke down. Everything poured out of him in a flood of pained words.
He spoke of all the mistakes and deceit on both their parts and his shame and self revelations. Joe sat silently and let Xander go on. He knew the young man had all this festering in him and it had to come out.
At the finish he told how he had almost tossed Spike out on his ear, then left him alone in the woods.
Xander's strength drained away with the words. When the story was finished, so was he. He sat slumped over with his head in his hands.
Moving to sit beside him, Joe put his arm around the young man and pulled him close. "Who are you really mad at, Xander? Him? Or yourself?"
Xander shrugged. "Both of us, I guess. It doesn't matter.
He's gone and I'm back to being alone." Lifting his head,
Xander looked Joe in the eye.
"Do you think this is an omen? Because I have feelings for
him and not a woman?"
Joe gave his shoulder a squeeze and laughed. "No, Xander. Your heart seeks out another heart. It doesn't look first at
the plumbing. Sides, I got a younger brother who likes the men too. It don't matter none. What matters is that it is not meant for a man to be alone.You all by yourself on that mountain. Not good Xander. You gonna wear your hand out."
"Joe!"
Both men laughed, and Xander relaxed. He knew coming here was the right choice.
"Now, be a good boy and help me unload your crates. If you not gonna run shine no more, I gotta take all you
got to give."
Feeling some better, Xander carried the jugs in and stacked them up in Joe's hidden storeroom. When he was finished
Joe walked him to the car.
Placing the palm of his hand on Xander's cheek, he patted it. "Watch the signs, boy. It will come when you least expect it
and when it does you will know what to do."
Thanking him, Xander climbed behind the wheel and drove off.
And so it went. Time passed and Xander watched for a sign, but none came.
'Maybe that's a sign in itself' he wondered. He cut the wood and canned his food. The hunting was good
and he had plenty of meat.
Using the copper tubing from the still, Xander piped water from the spring house to the cabin. He found a good used
hand pump and, by February, had water.
April saw the first new buds of the spring flowers. He knew when the last of the ground frost was done, he would start
his planting.
It had been six months since Spike had gone, and Xander had all but given up on a sign. He wasn't even sure anymore if it all had really happened as he remembered it.
Xander rocked slowly. The day had been the same as all the others. Nothing changed, not bad, not good, just the same.
He dozed in his chair. Even after all these months the bed still held too many painful memories.
Sleep came quickly and his dreams this night were vivid.
He was back to that terrible night all those months ago.
He had told Spike to shut up and get in the car.
Xander turned and fussed in his sleep.
He drove like a fool, scaring them both till he came to the town.
His dream relived the car stopping and Xander telling him to go.
The tears rolled down as Xander struggled to wake.
Suddenly the dream changed.
Before getting out of the car, Spike turned to him.
He placed his small hand on Xander's arm and smiled with those blue eyes. "I'll wait for you, Xander. Come for me when you're ready." Then he turned and was gone.
Xander woke with a start. That wasn't what happened!
What was that?
His heart jumped and hope flooded his body with warmth and excitement.
He had finally had his sign.
He knew what to do.
Xander rushed around packing for his trip to the city.
Part Twenty-Eight
Spike had always heard that you couldn't change your life till you hit rock bottom. Standing alone in the woods, bag in hand, sick, and heartbroken, he would have thought his life was as low as it could go.
He would have been wrong.
After getting lost, it took him the better part of an hour to find his way to town. Once there he slept on a bench in front of the bus station waiting for morning. Knowing he had no money for a ticket, Spike had no idea what to do next.
He woke to someone intermittently shaking him roughly and kicking the bench. "Wake up Spike! Jesus Fuck I can smell the booze all over you."
Startled, Spike attempted to jump up only to lose his balance and fall to the ground.
Liam stood over him with a disgusted look on his face he made no attempt to conceal. At least that boy had been right and he had found Spike with very little effort.
"Mr. O'Connor?" Spike struggled to his feet. His head still throbbed, but his stomach seemed to have settled enough that he possibly might live through the day. "What are you doing here?"
Liam grabbed him by the arm and roughly steered him towards the dark vehicle parked across the street. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing. You haven't checked in for over a week, Spike. Guess I can see why. You been laying drunk this whole time?"
Spike allowed himself to be manhandled into the car silently. He thought about the past week and straining to hold back the tears, said nothing.
Liam rolled his eyes "Yeah, I figured. Well this is it Spike. When we get back you can collect your things. You're fired."
Spike heard the words but didn't care. He had lost everything else what was a job he no longer wanted anyway? He sat and watched out the window.
The trip back to the city was long and lonely. Liam ragged on him nonstop. Told him what a loser he was. How he was just going to drink himself to death anyway so why didn't he hurry up and do it.
Nothing he said touched Spike in the least. How could it? It was all the same things he had told himself a million times over. Besides, Liam O'Connor's opinion of him didn't mean squat.
The next few months were all consuming.
Spike was unceremoniously tossed out of the agency the day he returned. Jobs were hard to find especially for a foreigner with no real skills.
After the first two months of unemployment, he was evicted. Christmas was spent living in a flop house with fifty other men down on their luck. New Years dinner was soup in a bread line, and he was grateful for it.
Still, he was able to fight his need to get drunk. Whenever the urge would become too strong, he remembered Xander. All the man had done to help him quit, and the look of disgust when he failed.
Sobriety was the biggest achievement of his life. He was proud of himself for the first time ever.
1941.
The first of the year came with no parties, no friends. But it did come with something Spike needed much more. It came with a job.
A man had come to the shelter looking for sober young men who could work on the docks. It was hard back breaking work especially for someone of Spike's smaller stature, but it was honest work that paid enough to get him on his feet.
A small rental room and regular meals were all the needs he had, or so he told himself. Still, there was not a day that went by that Spike didn't think of Xander. Miss him and wonder if he had found that someone special to share his home with.
The snow and ice of February bit into his skin and no amount of clothes or gloves could make him warm. Spike clearly
reveled in the day in April when he stepped outside and could smell spring in the air. The sun had a warming promise
to it and the sky was a cloudless blue.
He pulled his collar up around his neck and started for work. The wind had kicked up and was still cold and biting. Out of nowhere a maple leaf blew up and swirled around him. The fact that there were no trees any where around made it
seem such an oddity.
Mesmerized. Spike watched it as it tumbled and lifted in the air. Spinning and turning it went higher till it was almost out of sight.
On a silly impulse, Spike blew it a kiss and called after it "Take that to Xander."
He laughed at the himself and the childishness of the action.
Then bracing against the frigid air, continued on to the docks.
Part Twenty-Nine
Reaching under his bed, Xander pulled out a small metal trunk that had been his fathers when he was in the war. Now it held all of Xander's 'importants', as he called them. He had a good suit of clothes from his days in college that he really had no use for now.
He had a leather strap that served as a collar for his old hound dog that had run off and never come back. He had some books, novels he kept from school that he had read a hundred times and would still read again.
And he had a smaller box of papers. Birth and death certificates. All his saved money. Car title and land ownership deeds. There was also a well handled small white card.
A card with the name and address of a jerk. But it was a jerk that would know how to find Spike.
Taking out the clothes, money, and the card, Xander replaced the other items and slid the trunk back under the bed.
After putting on the wool pants and white shirt, Xander tucked the card in his pocket and packed a few more clothes in a suitcase.
A suitcase that used to contain broken bottles, but had been lovingly cleaned and stored. He checked around the cabin. There was really nothing there that required his daily attention or maintenance.
Taking a last look at his empty bed, his heart carried the hope that he would find Spike and convince him to return
to the mountain. Xander pulled the door closed and headed for the barn.
The air had been still all morning and Xander was surprised when a sudden gust blew up. Turning his face, a large wet
maple leaf flew around him and stuck to the center of his chest. Despite blowing down a puff of breath, it clung on tight.
Peeling it off, Xander felt like it was a good sign and decided to take it with him. He threw his case in the car and jumped behind the wheel. "Let's go girl. You been sitting too long. It's time for a new adventure." The engine roared to life and he was off.
It was a longer trip than he had anticipated. Sleeping the first night on the backseat and eating in greasy spoons, he drove almost nonstop.
The card had given the address as a building in the center of New York City. He had heard from classmates who lived here how big the city was, but big didn't even begin to describe it.
He arrived late the second evening, and parking on the street, slept again in the car. By morning he was rumpled, hungry and badly needed to piss. He slipped down an alley and leaned against a building hopefully out of sight.
Only after releasing a hot stream of acrid urine did he notice the blankets and boxes. He was shocked to realize people were living here. In cardboard crates and cheap wood shantys. He prayed to God Spike had not sunk to that level.
Xander now felt a new urgency to locate him and after stopping three more times to ask directions, he found himself parked in front of a huge imposing government building.
Double checking the address against the one on the card, he satisfied himself that he was in the right place.
Xander did his best to right his clothes and finger comb his hair. Entering through the front doors he went directly to the
security guard at the inside desk.
"Good morning. I'm here to see Mr. Liam O'Connor."
The security guard never took his eyes off the newspaper he was reading. "You got an appointment?"
For a quick moment, Xander considered lying, but knew it could be easily checked. "No, but he said to come see him if I had any information." Xander smiled broadly. The statement was true, the information, not so much.
Still deeply absorbed in the daily adventures of Mutt and Jeff, the guard pointed in the direction of the elevators. "Fifth floor. Office 503. Name's on the door.
Xander walked in the direction indicated, entered the elevator and waited patiently for the clanking metal cage to arrive at his stop. 503.
Easy enough to find. He tapped twice on the office door and stepped in.
The two ladies typing madly on the machines at their desks both stopped and looked up. "Good Morning. Can I help you?" The cheap blond seemed to be in charge so he approached her.
"Yes, my name is Alexander Harris and I need to see Mr. O'Connor on a confidential matter."
Blondie crossed her legs and ran her eyes up and down Xander's body slowly, pausing almost imperceptibly at
his crotch. Opening her desk drawer, she pulled out a tube of blood red lipstick and sensually applied it to her mouth,
finishing the job with an exaggerated smack of the lips
"You got an appointment?" She fluttered her eyes and wiggled her ass in her chair. The smile on her face was nothing less than predatory.
Staring at the smear of red on her front tooth, Xander pulled the card from his pocket. "No, but he said to come and see him."
Rising slowly from her seat, she swished to the main office door and stuck her head in.
She spoke too quietly for Xander to hear, but he was sure she announced him. He concealed a snicker when her conversation was completed with a "Fuck!" and a hanky rubbed briskly over her teeth.
Returning to her seat she jerked her head in the general direction of the inner office. "Go on in. He will see you."
Part Thirty
Xander instantly recognized the man standing in front of him as the same asshole he had met six months ago. The time had apparently not been kind to him as Xander noted he now looked more like a worn out private dick rather than a polished Government agent.
Xander shrugged. He was totally disinterested in what problems this jerk had. He had enough of his own. Which brought him back to the reason for his visit. "I need to know where Spike is."
The look on Liam's face was priceless. It had taken him a few minutes to remember the hay seed he had spoken to all those months ago on the mountain. But this didn't sound like the uneducated moron who had claimed no knowledge of the lost agent. "Thought you never saw him?"
Liam leaned forward in his chair. This promised to be an interesting morning after all.
"Yeah, well I lied. I need to talk to him. How can I find him." Liam copied Buffy's slow perusal of Xander's body exactly. Right down to the pause.
"Suppose I can guess what you want with him. Gotta admit I had the same thought a time or two." Straightening up, his face then changed to an expression of anger and disgust. "Course that was before the little shit cost me my promotion.
Fuckin' little drunk."
Xander gritted his teeth and balled his fists at his sides. "Look, I don't care about your promotion or how many people you want to fuck, I just want to know where Agent Beemish is." Then mustering up all the self control he had, Xander added, "Please."
Liam rested his forearms on the desk and looked smug. "There is no Agent Beemish. He was fired. Last I heard he was working down on the docks. Was homeless for a while. Now, I don't know. Can't say exactly where he is, you just gonna have to go down and ask around."
Though hurt, Xander could not say he was surprised. He had feared as much. He wanted very badly to ask O'Connor if Spike was sober, but he was afraid the man would enjoy the answer too much, so he stayed silent.
With just a nod of his head, Xander turned to leave. Before turning the knob he looked back one last time. "You're a real asshole. You know that?'
Liam nodded. "Yeah, I know." and he sat back propping his feet up on his desk and chuckled.
After receiving directions from the security guard, Xander headed for the area of the city's shipping ports. The guard had told him he couldn't miss it. Unfortunately he was right. It was huge. Miles of shoreline filled with giant ships loading and unloading cargo.
Cars, trucks, thousands of men shouting, working. Trying to find Spike would be next to impossible, but Xander had
come too far to just give up. He had to try.
He dove into the throbbing pulse of activity. Asking first one then another. Any man he could persuade to talk to him.
Without a picture, all he had was a description. Most, suspicious of his motives, would not even speak to him. Those that did would just shake their heads. No one knew or cared who Spike was.
Hours of frustration and failure were taking their toll. Xander was tired, angry and above all hungry as fuck. Finding a small greasy spoon that catered to dock workers, Xander settled into a booth and ordered a burger and a cup of coffee.
Choking them down he tried to decide what to do next.
"Y'all look like life been yanking your neck tie a tad too tight" Xander lifted his face. The young waitress that had served himwas now leaning against the next booth with a smile aimed in his direction. "You look like a man that's out of work. That it?"
"What? No. I'm trying to find someone and I just haven't had much luck." A thought came to Xander. "Hey, I'll bet most of the men that come in here work on the docks. Maybe you know the man I'm hunting. Kinda short, blond hair, early twenties, name's William. Sometimes calls himself Spike?"
"Shoot, darlin' Lots of men come in here match that description, but the name don't sound familiar. Sorry." Tearing off his tab, the waitress dropped it on the table. "Can I get you anything else?" When Xander shook his head, she walked away.
Xander continued his walking and searching, but the end of the day brought only more discouragement. He had not been able to locate anyone who knew Spike.
It was beginning to feel hopeless. Unhappily, he returned to his car and his cramped bed in the back seat. Maybe some sleep would bring a new idea.
Spike was whipped. Twelve hour days of lifting heavy crates were taking their toll and his body felt like he had been horse whipped. An idea had been tiptoeing around his head lately and for some reason today it was starting to grow.
Maybe because it was spring. A time that should have been full of hope and new beginnings. Maybe because of the shape of the world. A place right now that showed no hope of peace. The radios and newspapers had talked of nothing but war.
London had been bombed and Germany seemed to want to devour everything in it's path. It was only a matter of time till
the States became involved.
Another world war.
Who would have thought.
They promised the first one would be the last.
All this combined together to solidify the decision Spike had been trying to make.
He wanted to go home.
He wanted to go back to the cabin on the mountain.
He wanted Xander.
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