6

Floyd claimed that he didn't have time to sort out Sam's problems. This was after the early morning call to say that he'd been arrested for attacking a police officer. Floyd claimed that he had to sort things out at the house and that Spencer was far more able to talk his way around the law than he was, thus it was Spencer who drove out to the police station Sam was being held at and he wasn't too happy about it. He'd had a lovely evening with Floyd and had wanted to continue the relaxed feeling, but Sam had ruined everything again. Always Sam. Why did Sam have to mess up something as simple as going into town and staying out of trouble? Spencer wanted to go to the house with Floyd. He wanted to keep an eye on the man and make sure that he wasn't up to anything more than he'd all ready revealed. But no… Spencer had to drop what he wanted to do so that he could go running after Sam and haul him back to them again safely.

Sam had been dragged in to talk to a Youth Liaison Officer. A nice lady with brown hair and warm brown eyes. She didn't ask Sam too much but gave him leaflets about sexually transmitted diseases, how to spot them, what to do, how to get treatment and how to avoid it. She gave Sam more leaflets about drug and alcohol independence and how to cope and where to get help. She seemed shocked that someone who looked so young should be in such a mess…

'You know you can talk to me.' She told him.

But Sam had talked to so many people over the years and either the believed him and locked him up or they didn't believe him and they ignored him. 'I just want to be loved.' Sam moaned. 'I went out looking for friendship.'

'Sometimes we look for friendships in the wrong places. Someone has been called and is coming down to pick you up, but I'm afraid that you did bite, kick and scratch a police officer, that can't happen.'

Sam fiddled with his fingers and nodded. 'They scared me. I'd already been beaten up that night and they scared me. I reacted badly and I'm sorry. I'll apologise to him.'

She smiled. He seemed like a nice lad who just needed attention and love. She could have wrapped him up and taken him home herself. She could have brought the good out of that lad. She left Sam with a mug of coffee and went out to meet up with the person who had come to collect Sam.

'Dr Reid?' She put her hand out and then dropped it again. The man looked like a genuine creep. He looked sweaty, dirty, and he looked like he'd spent the night shooting up. The man who liked to be called Doctor, looked a mess.

'I'm here for Sam?' A question.

'I was expecting his mother or father to come and collect him. You're surely not old enough to be his father.'

'No, no… no I'm not his father. I'm a friend of his… of… I'm…' Spencer wasn't sure what he classed himself as.

'I need to ask you Dr Reid and I know that you wont give me an honest answer, but I need to alert you to the fact. Are you Sam's pimp?'

Spencer's eye brows shot up into his hairline. He opened his mouth to talk and then closed it again. 'Sam told you that?'

'No. Sam's told me very little. You don't deny it?'

'Of course I deny it! What a stupid question! No! I'm not his pimp. No one is Sam's pimp! He's sixteen for the love of… for… for… he's sixteen.'

She nodded at Spencer, maybe happy with the reply. Maybe convinced and maybe not. 'Age has little relevance in cases like this. He's obviously been taking drugs, if not last night, then in the past. He's got track marks on his arms and…' And she trailed off as Spencer suddenly folded his arms. Though he had long sleeves on it was as though she could see through the fabric of his shirt. '… and between his toes…' She finished.

Spencer just stood with his arms crossed staring at the wall. It was as though this woman was probing directly into his brain and seeing every nasty thing he'd ever done and was feeling every dirty thought he'd ever had. The slight sweaty state he was already in became worse. He could feel sweat running down the side of his face but dared not move his hands in case this damned woman saw something he didn't want her to see. 'Did you know that Sam was taking drugs?'

Spencer let out a grunt of assent. 'He's clean now. He's had problems.'

She nodded. 'And you?'

'My problems are none of your business. I'm clean, if that's what you're asking.'

'The problem is that Sam seems to be a vulnerable young man and I need to make sure that he's going somewhere safe.'

Now Spencer groaned. How many times had that been thought of concerning Sam and how many times had Spencer managed to prove the suspicions of the authorities to be correct. Spencer was a threat to Sam's wellbeing. Floyd was a bigger threat. Yes Sam took drugs and sold his body for money… they knew that, they knew that the conditions and habits surrounding Sam were not going the change. All Spencer could do was lie and that wasn't always his best skill. He had to feel that his life was endangered to be able to lie like a god.

'I will be moving into the old Speckson house soon. Sam is the legal ward of the new owner and I am that man's lover. Sam will be perfectly safe with us. We don't take drugs, there is no obvious sexual activity carried out in front of Sam. It's a normal household and we do both love Sam and care for him deeply – on an emotional level not a physical one. Sam had a hard start and now we are attempting to give the boy what he needs. Sam needs very special handling. He's been extremely traumatised fairy recently. He went out for a walk last night and didn't come home again. I personally know that there is small point in reporting someone like Sam missing that first night he fails to return home. I was a Federal Agent. I know how the policing of missing young people works. I'm not saying it's right, but I am saying that I know that I would have been told to give him more time to return home of his own volition. That was why no one had reported him missing and I'm telling you this because I know that you are going to ask why someone so young was allowed to wander the streets all night and not be reported. Tell me that I'm wrong.'

She slowly shook her head. 'You're not wrong. I do have to tell you that Sam is going to have to report back here later today and apologise to the officer he attacked.'

'That's fine. I understand and I am thankful that is all that's going to happen.'

'Keep a closer eye on the lad. Next time he might not be lucky enough to be picked up by a friendly police officer who saw a young man in obvious distress.'

'I understand.' Spencer smiled and his fingers twitched as though trying to get him to shake the woman's hand. He ignored them.

Sam for one of the first times in his life didn't over react and make a drama out of anything. When Spencer walked into the room he stood, straightened his clothes and spoke quietly. 'I'm sorry. I didn't meant to get into trouble.' He looked at his feet, avoiding Spencer's face in case he burst out laughing of decide to leap into his saviours arms.

For a moment Spencer did nothing. He had been preparing himself for a barrage of abuse of maybe of tears and hugs, but Sam just stood there looking as though he meant every word he was saying. 'Well, I hope we can sort this out quickly. I'm sure you would like to get home and sleep in a bed. Did they look after you all right?' Spencer asked.

'Oh you know. They locked me in a cell with a guy who had the shits and another who was swearing and as high as a kite, but no one raped me or even asked for a blow job…'

'Good!' Spencer cut off Sam's words quickly. 'That's excellent. We can go then and later I'll bring you back and you will have to apologise properly to the officer you er… you bit…'

Sam kept up this calm exterior but Spencer could sense that Sam was bubbling with rage and about to explode. They got out of the building as quick as they could and into Spencer's car where Sam's real feelings burst from him in a torrent. 'They fucking picked me up cos they thought I had drugs and I didn't but even if I did what the fuck? Why me? Why do people pick on me and what the fuck are you doing here anyway and where the hell is Floyd and I don't see why I should fucking well have to apologise to the pig. Have you seen what that whore gave me? She assumed that I was out looking for sex. She assumed that I would need information on STD's and she thought I should seek help about drug abuse. Why do people think that of me? Why is it always assumed that I'm that way? I used to dress in baggy dungarees and…'

'Sam.' Spencer put a hand on Sam's which was thumping the dashboard. 'You have old track marks and you're dressed like a cheep rent boy. What do you think they're going to assume. Maybe it's unfair but unfortunately people do tend to judge by appearances. They thought I was your pimp.' Spencer let out a sigh.

'I am entitled to wear what I bloody well want! No one can force me to be like a fucking expressionless clone of every other teenager around. I want to be an individual. And I should be allowed to have that right and not be picked on. I went to a gay bar… what did they do? They smacked me because they said I was too young and made it look bad for them. I can't even make friends with other butt fuckers!'

There was a tiny bit of Spencer that wanted to tell Sam that he was his friend but a much larger part of himself that wasn't surprised that Sam couldn't make friends if that was his attitude.

o-o-o

A week passed with nothing of real note happening. Sam made his apologies and the cop accepted it. Floyd again didn't show his face to the cops which in one respect was bothering Spencer because maybe there was something more going on that Floyd hadn't told either of them about. Floyd explained that he didn't want to stir where it was un-necessary and that Spencer had it all under control. There was no need for him to let his presence been known. The house was almost ready to move into and Floyd seemed to get quieter as the time got closer. He distanced himself slightly from Spencer and Sam and concentrated on making sure that everything was in place and perfect.

'I need it to be perfect.' That was Floyd's mantra when asked how things were going.

Sam told Floyd that he thought that they were here just to have a look and not hang around until it was finished. He missed being at home and he missed the familiar surroundings and he missed the lovely bed at Spencer's place. Spencer missed it too. The beds in the motel room were big, but not as comfortable as being at home. And the more Floyd seemed to back away from the pair of them the closer Spencer and Sam seemed to get. They spent one afternoon shopping for more clothes for Sam. Spencer thought that with his guidance that Sam might actually end up having something almost respectable to wear. Sam thought that with Spencer's input he was going to end up looking like a fool, but it turned out all right in the end. Spencer thinking that he'd done a good job and Sam thinking that he'd manipulated Spencer into having what he wanted anyway. Truth was that Spencer actually liked to see Sam dressed in a slightly slutty manner. He had his cool dressing hard man Floyd on one arm and his little slutty friend on the other. What more could a man want?

And Floyd watched them. He could see what was going on here. It didn't surprise him in the slightest. Sam would cling on to anyone and anything that gave him attention. Spencer seemed to be very much the same. Though Spencer and Sam were very different in almost every way, they were also very alike… at least that's what Floyd could see. The more he pulled away to watch them, the closer they became. Holding hands… the light touching and brushing of hands on arms and legs… the more obvious touching and fondling they started when they thought Floyd wasn't watching. He noted the almost guilty and secret looks they gave each other… the teasing way Sam would eat with his fingers and lick them clean. If they were trying purposefully to wind him up then it was working. It let him see that they were as faithless as he always knew they were. It let him see that no matter what he did for them as soon as his back was turned they'd be on each other like… well like two cheap whores.

That was OK.

Floyd liked cheap whores which was why he was with them, but now it was time to stop the games and put his foot down; the proverbial one and the one with the boot on it. And they seemed to have forgotten that Floyd had other concerns… other things bothering him… oh yes… take your eyes off the sluts for five minutes and they forget you exist.

'So…' Floyd said. '…you wanted to know who it was molesting you all the time you thought it was William?'

Sam quickly moved his hands onto his own lap and Spencer blushed a deep red. He'd almost forgotten that Floyd was there, even if his nose had been deep in paperwork for the past week… Floyd was still very much there. Neither Spencer or Sam responded to Floyd's question.

'I had words with William. Long conversations with the man. I also spoke to Diana but small point there. She didn't listen. She didn't want to hear what I had to say. William though was a different matter. He listened and he heard.'

Spencer moved slightly away from Sam and turned to look at Floyd. 'I know what happened.' He told him. 'If my memory is at fault then I don't care. That's what I know. That's what I want to remember. I don't need you telling me otherwise. I have lived with that knowledge for a long time. I've accepted it. I've forgiven him for anything he might have done.'

Floyd shook his head. 'You have to know the truth though. In a way, William was to blame.'

Now Spencer stood up. 'Stop. Please. I'm asking you to stop. Everything is going well. We are happy. No one is fighting or bleeding and that's a good place to be. Please don't spoil it. It's almost as though you don't like to see us happy. You want to ruin things and make us fight and be at each other's throats. Can you just accept that we are getting on great? That we have a bond with each other and this can work?'

'Fat chance.' Sam moaned. 'He's not going to want to see us happy if he can see us miserable. He thrives on it.'

'Thank you, Sam.' Floyd smirked. 'You know me so well. But that's not what I wanted to talk about this for. Tomorrow we will move into the house and I want everything sorted. I don't want to drag old shit to the new place. I don't want you touching like that in public. I don't want you petting Sam. I don't want you two being alone together.' He paused. 'I don't trust you.' He folded up the paperwork and shoved it into a folder. 'I've been completing this house business and all you two have done is touch each other when you think I'm not looking. Frankly, I'm sick of it.' Floyd then stood and went to the bathroom where he slammed the door behind him.

'What the hell?' Sam got up from where he was sitting on a cushion and looked at Spencer. 'He's jealous! Oh my fucking god! Flanders is jealous! I don't fucking believe it! That's so bloody funny!'

It didn't feel amusing to Spencer. It felt like the prelude to violence and pain and not the sort he liked either. 'There's something going on with him.'

'No fucking kidding! Oh my GOD! I would never have thought that he'd be jealous of his dog and his whore! That's so fucking funny because I don't actually want you to fuck me! You're really rubbish at that. You can blow me though, if you remember all the tricks I've told you about and I know you have cos I've heard Floyd yelping. What's he doing in the bathroom? Wanking?'

'Just stop it!' Spencer rounded on Sam. 'Can't you see this is what he wants…' He was going to say more but Floyd burst from the bathroom and hurled his boots across the room. One hit Sam on the top of the head, the other caught Spencer in the chest. They were both well aimed and hit where Floyd had meant them too.

'When I died…'

'Oh crap… he's going to cry now.' Sam's words burst out before he could stop them. Spencer would have slapped him if he'd been close enough.

'When I died…' Floyd spoke again. '… Ah… what the fuck. Why do I bother? Someone out there has a piece of me as a trophy and I need it back at some point. So when you can be bothered to look… I'd have you find Bern for me.' Floyd then threw himself on the bed and laid there on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow.

'He's crying.' Sam muttered to Spencer. 'The big boy is crying. Oh shit… I wish I had a camera.'