TITLE: Stuff Me, Shoot Me, Mount Me 6

AUTHORS: Zusblue and Esme.

EMAIL: zusblue@yahoo.co.uk & akiyah2000@yahoo.co.uk

DISTRIBUTION: Nummytreats, Slashthemen, m-mslashaholics and Esme's new site http://www.shadows-and-dust.co.uk

SUMMARY: Spike and Xander make a wager that will change the way they think of each other forever.

RATING: NC-17 this part.

DISCLAIMER: All characters are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc. We're just playing with them for a while, we promise to give them back unharmed and relatively sane when we're done. We're not making any money from this.

NOTES: This is a response to an idea from Stephanie Hiding. Spike and Xander make a wager that Spike isn't able to seduce the Scoobies. ALL of the Scoobies.

FEEDBACK: Yes please, but to zusblue@yahoo.co.uk for this part. It was zus that wrote it.

Stuff me, Shoot Me, Mount Me 6: Not That Easy
by Zusblue

Tara - check
Willow - check
Little bit - not going there - check
Giles - about to get a very large, well endowed check - check
---

Spike tried to stretch out on Giles' sofa. Getting in hadn't been as difficult as he'd thought, all he'd had to do was play the poor, chipped vampire who'd been driven out of his crypt by some nasty humans - and the sofa (or fucking bath tub if he wasn't careful), was his!

God, Spike was having so much fucking fun! The lad was so sweet, like candy. Heavy, sugary candy, that dissolved on your tongue and flooded your mouth. And every time he went back, he got a little further. Xander was like a fresh, new flower and Spike was knocking off the dew and pulling back the petals. Shit, he *really* wanted to stick in his proboscis and pollinate!

For a second Spike indulged the fantasy and imagined Xander bent over, open and waiting.. arg!. He could see himself sliding hotly, tightly, home and felt a sweet ache crawl up his belly.. Shaking himself, he silently admonished, *none of that now Spike, time for that later, *IF* you can pull this off. Find someway to get the Stuffed-shirted-one's kit off, an find some proof the Whelp'll believe. so *CONCENTRATE!!*

---

Wriggling Spike tried to make himself a little comfier, the bloody Watcher didn't even have a *telly* anymore. Lifting his head to see over the arm of the uncomfortable sofa he was stuck on, he could see Giles hunched over some mouldy textbooks. 'He must be bored by now,' thought Spike, he'd been at it for over an hour. "Watcher?"

Giles closed his eyes in exasperation. What *on earth* had possessed him to invite Spike in.. "What?"

Spike kicked the arm of the sofa, "I'm bored".

'Oh Gods!' Thought Giles, pushing his glasses up and nipping the bridge of his nose "and what am *I* supposed to do about it? Provide you with entertainment, juggle for you? Recite poetry?"

'Ye Gods', thought Spike, 'a fate worse than real death!' Raising his boot, he nudged the arm of his make shift bed and grinning to himself put on his best War Games computer voice "WANT.TO.PLAY-A-GAME?"

Giles grimaced, whatever Gods he'd offended. he was *heartily* sorry. "What?"

Spike pushed up on his elbows and smirked. "I said. Want to play a game?"

"No' Giles repositioned his glasses and tried to get back to work.

"Oh, come on. Don't be so bloody boring!"

"No!' Giles picked up his pen.

"We can play pretend." Spike tried to sound encouraging.

"No"

"Come on Watcher!. I'll be the 'Chosen one' an you can 'chastise' me."

"No, and Spike. Shut up!"

Spike put on a falsetto "Giles, your so big, and strong. and , an Manly!!!"

"You're *sick* Spike. Be quiet, at once, or I shall have to do something we'd both regret." Giles' voice sounded ominous.

"But Giles" still in falsetto. "Mr. Poointy wants to playyyyy."

"Shut up"

"Come on, Spank me! Put your big manly hand on my bottom."

Giles threw down his pen and turned in his chair. "Spike, desist - at once, or you'll be getting more than just a 'spanking'. you, you. are the most annoying."

Spike pulled up into a sitting position, bed covers tucked chastely around his middle.

". irritating."

Hands clasped over his knees.

"Pain in the backside. And if you don't leave me alone to do some work, I've a good mind to give you a thrashing - chip or no chip."

Spike wiggled his eyebrows. "Is that a promise then Watcher? You gonna *thrash* me to within an inch of my unlife?" Spike gave Giles a seductive smile.

"You gonna get your long, hard, wooden stake out and thrust it..." Spike lifted his ass off the sofa, dislodging the blanket and bending forward, "into my hot, *tight*.." flexing his butt cheeks, "little body?" Looking over his shoulder at Giles and giving him an open mouth pout. "You gonna take that hard shaft of yours" licking his lips slowly ".an' stick it in?"

But Giles wasn't playing, the frown he'd developed seemed to be taking root. 'Bugger,' thought Spike, watching a tick form at the corner of Giles' eye. 'It worked for the monkeys on the Discovery channel!'

Flopping back on the sofa, Spike bit back a sigh. "So, no putting your sweaty fingers all over my naked body and slapping my arse until it's redder an Willow's face that time the nibblet asked her what kind of language Cunnillingus was, an why she couldn't help her practice when Tara wasn't around?" Nodding at Giles' very white, (oops) angry expression, Spike
pulled a bent cigarette from under the cushion next to him. "Or we could just have a drink?"

The change in direction threw Giles for a minute, but anything was better than a chipped Vampire with attention deficit syndrome, hyper acting on his couch. "Oh, alright then, you know where the glasses are."

Spike sprang up quicker than Anya putting her money away and returned with Giles' decanter and two glasses. Plopping them on the table beside Giles, Spike pulled a chair out and sat. "Right then mate" he said, pouring two generous fingers. "Time to let Ripper out to play" and smirked evilly to himself. This was gonna be *fun*.

Giles looked at the glass, looked up at the grinning Vampire, back down at the glass; and thought what the hell! "Bottoms up!" and downed his drink whole.

Now *that's* more like it thought Spike following suit.

One decanter and a half bottle of amazingly strong liqueur later, a slightly tipsy Vampire and a pissed-as-a-fart human sprawled on Giles' floor taking alternative drags on a very old, very potent joint.

One sharp lung full of smoke and a human sniff. "See, what you do is, you stick a pin in the end. like so," demonstration please "and *then* you can smoke the bloody thing right to the end!" passing the joint over.

"Very clever Watcher" extra large Vampire breath. and hold. "So, where'd you get this then?" passing it back wobbly.

"It's b..b..bloody ancient (Watcher snigger), like you," drunken snort.

"Here, watch it Watcher" accompanied by a poke in the ribs to said Watcher.

"Don't *poke* me Spike."

Spike poked him again "what you gonna do," poke. "If I do?"

"Stop it!" accompanied by drunken laughter and ineffectual arm flapping.

Poke, poke, poke. "Come on Watcher. Don't be shy. What you gonna do? Changed your mind about the spanking? Want to *spank* my naughty, round, bottom do you?"

Last drag on the dilapidated joint and tossing the stub into an expensively beautiful crystal goblet. "Shut up Spike.. you are a naughty, naughty boy!" Giles was definitely on the other side of sober and from his position on the floor, he could see two Spikes, grinning at him. . He was feeling kind of happy, and silly. The first time he'd felt like this. When was that? Ah
yes, cookies, he'd eaten cookies.

"Come on Watcher" Spike leered and wiggled his ass "touch it." and lowered his voice "you know you want to!"

"Stop it, this instant. You are an irr..irritating *evil* creature," said Giles, drunkenly, slurring his words and carefully pushing his body into a sitting position. "I have ab, absolutely *no* and I repeat," oh hell, that last glass was certainly repeating; "desire to wank, er. no, spank. *spank*.. Your buttocks!"

Giles waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the two mounds, currently standing to attention on his floor and felt proud at his self control, as he continued; "*at all, and you." Oops, arm sliding along the carpet and the world tilting slightly. "You could be the last man, on this earth" hiccup, "wearing a school girls' uniform and a Britney Spears wig and I would still, most *definitely* NOT want to touch them!"

Ah, thought Spike from his position on the floor, Britney Spears ay? He could see the light flush that had crept into Giles's cheeks. Forbidden fruit? "Well, if that's what pushes your buttons mate, I think we can accommodate you."

Giles's lips formed two words. "Oh dear!" As Spike sprang from the floor and headed into his spare room. He had a vague idea something bad was about to happen.

Minutes ticked by and Spike still hadn't reappeared, but floating through the silence the occasional muffled expletive coloured the air, accompanied by a sporadic thud.

"Oh dear!" Giles said, louder this time, as the door Spike had disappeared through was flung open and an apparition appeared.

>From his fluffy cheerleader toes, to his be-spectacled nose, Spike looked the epitome of schoolgirl gauche. Skirl swaying just below his waist, tight white shirt buttoned up to his neck, he looked every pre-pubescent schoolboy's dream.

"Oh Dear!" Giles said, for the third time, as he took in the pink pouting lips and long, blond bunched wig.

Spike smiled from the doorway at Giles's stunned expression, it was almost worth the effort of putting on the pink frilly knickers he'd found on his last visit to the Bath' tub motel. What? He'd really thought Spike wouldn' t find this stuff? What else was he supposed to do, with nothing to keep him occupied but a TV and Giles's diaries? "You like?" he smirked to the
drunken watcher on the floor and advanced with an exaggerated sway to his hips; snapping the whip in his hand against his thigh and pulling out the handcuffs he'd hidden behind his back.

"Ready to dance, Big boy?" Spike asked, waving the shiny metal restraints in front of him.

Giles's mouth fell open as another 'Oh dear' tried to fight its way out. Too late, his mind told him, as Spike straddled his waist and sank down.

Up close he could see silver sparkles dotting Spike's eyelids and shinny pink lips slightly open showing white, white teeth.

Spike leaned forward and brushed the hair just above Giles's ear with his lips, as he whispered, "you want me to spank you? Or are you gonna get your hands dirty?"

Giles's gulped. "Could we have a drink first?"

---

OK, it had been fun, Spike had spanked Giles with a spatula and chased him around the room with a whip. He'd put him over his knee and paddled his bare bottom, and it had been great.

But why in blue blazes had he let himself get tied, spread-eagle, to Giles's bed with enchanted rope?

Oh, yeah, cause he wanted Giles to sign his arse with magic marker, to prove to the Whelp he'd done it.

Spike buried his head in the pillow, his throat was raw from yelling at the bloody watcher to get his arse back and untie him and his backside was sore from the spanking Giles had insisted he have, for being a 'naughty, bad rude man!'. 'Shit,' Spike could feel the night growing old, as the wig started to itch at his scalp and the bloody short skirt? God, it was uncomfortable all ruckled around his middle.

As he tried to make the best of things he thought, at least the pink panties were off, and he could tell the Whelp Giles' dressed to the left an had one that could shoot round corners.

Bloody hell, that had been a shock. Bit like the time he'd taken Dru to see the magic balloon man, watching the bloke blow them up an seeing the damn things bend as they got bigger. Spike nearly choked, as he pulled a breath in, for the snort that wanted to come out.

"Watcher? Get your bleedin' arse back in here an untie me. NOW!" Spike yelled into the silence, as in the other room an exhausted Giles slept on.