*****

[SETTING: a strange, infinite space with no walls or ceiling, an oddly soft floor and swirly colours.]

SPIKE: Why am I here *again*?

XANDER: Because you keep eyeing every attractive male in sight.

SPIKE: C'me on, luv, it's not like I cheated on you. I mea, you weren't even born yet in Rippertime. Besides, you're here now too, right? Who're you seeing?

XANDER: Birkoff.

SPIKE: Oooh, very nice. Wanna share?

XANDER: You have a date, Spike. And I think your ride's here.

[Strange whirly warp thingie appears.]

SPIKE: [peering into warp thing] A bar. How original. [short pause] You know, I don't think *I* was even born then.

XANDER: Shut up, Spike, this is about smut, not about plot. [pushes Spike through warp thingie]

***************

"Oh, and Armelle...Horatio, please!" (Joanne)

If you spend enough time in enough London pubs, they all blur into one fuzzy stream of beer, bars and blood, Spike decided. He'd never thought he'd tire of living in the gutter, but he was getting dangerously close. He didn't feel like starting a fight, he didn't feel like seducing the bartender's daughter, he simply lacked the energy and enthusiasm to do anything more tedious than peer morosely into his beer.

So when a slender figure slid onto the barstool next to him, ordered a beer and attempted to start a conversation, he lifted his head to snarl. Luckily for Spike, his dick sent a signal to his mouth before his bad temper could. It wasn't long before he found himself in an abandoned alley, unwrapping one of the nicest presents he'd even had.

Sweet pink lips were just asking to be kissed and well, Spike had never been one to turn down such a generous offer. The boy, whose name was Horatio, Spike recalled, was quite helpful in removing his brand new uniform to give Spike access to his smooth chest. The boy was so decadently beautiful it gave Spike a special thrill to have him between the garbage and filth of this backwater alley.

The uniform jacket and shirt hung loosely around the boy's shoulders, probably getting dirty from the wall he was leaning against, but neither of them cared. The boy was sensuously rubbing his body against the wall, overwhelmed by sensations as Spike licked his nipples, his chest, his belly.

Spike decided that the gutter wasn't so bad after all.

***************

[SETTING: same weird place as before.]

OZ: Where the hell am I?

XANDER: Oz! Welcome to the Limbo, my man!

OZ: The what?

XANDER: The Limbo. This is where She keeps the characters until she can figure out some semblance of plot for her crossovers.

OZ: She?

XANDER: She, the author, the Queen of the Demented XO.

[Warp thingie appears again.]

XANDER: that's my ride, gotta run. Have fun!

***************

"Birkoff's been working all day. Xander, you might want to check on him--he seems to respond to you best." (from 'The love Shack' by Ruth Sadelle Alderson)

"I hear you've been working very hard," Xander said, standing behind Birkoff, his hands on the young man's shoulders. "You really should learn to relax every now and then, you know." Xander's fingers were digging into the tense muscles, coaxing them into relaxation.

"I work for Section, remember? That's not exactly a relaxing environment."

"Hey, I live on the hellmouth, but you don't see me developing an ulcer, do you?" Xander grinned, and turned the bureau chair around so he was facing Birkoff. "But maybe you just need some help. So sit back, close your eye, and just enjoy the ride." Birkoff, being a good little Section operative, obeyed Xander's orders.

Even when he felt his jeans being undone, he kept his eyes firmly closed. Even when a warm hand slipped inside his boxers, he kept his body relaxed. When the hand started to move, he did feel the need to whimper, but then Xander hadn't said anything about keeping his *mouth* closed. And some groaning was defentitely in order when the hand was replaced with something hot and wet and slick.

Xander had to forcefully repress a grin at Birkoff's reaction. Michael was going to give in, whether he wanted to or not. The kid was so virginal, yet very non-repressed. An irresistible combination.

***************

[SETTING: the Limbo, again.]

OZ: Well, I guess it's my turn now. Ready when you are.

ARCHIE: Ahem.

OZ: Oh, hi, are you my uh ... date?

ARCHIE: I think so, yes.

OZ: [frowning] But if you're here and I'm here, why are we still *here*?

ARCHIE: I think She's still trying to figure out a way to get us together. You know, with us living in different centuries and all.

OZ: So why don't we just skip the plot and get to the smut?

ARCHIE: Sounds like a plan. I could do with some setting, though.

OZ: Well, you're a seaman, right? I've never had sex on a ship before ...

[Warp thingie]

ARCHIE: Your wish ... [grins] After you, kind sir.

***************

"Okay, then. Oz it is. Archie - fetch! : )" (Deanna)

A lot of giggling, moaning and thrusting could be heard from the random abandoned captain's cabin. Unfortunately, nothing could be seen.

"Oz?" Archie asked, breathlessly.

"Yeah?"

"Why are we off-screen?"

"Because She can be an evil wench when the mood hits her."

***************

[SETTING: the limbo. An insane giggling can be heard from all around.]

THE END