Mission Implausible

Part One: Mission Briefing

"Good news." Only those who truly knew him could tell that Giles was practically humming with suppressed excitement. "We’ve located the fellow who has the text I require," he told the Scooby gang as they gathered around the research table Sunday night.

"Great!" Buffy said. "Does that mean research is over and I can go kill something?"

"Er, not exactly," Giles said apologetically, whipping the glasses off his face with practiced ease and vigorously polishing them with his handkerchief. "We still need to retrieve the text."

"So, call him and set up a meet," Xander said. "He brings the book, you bring the money. No biggie, right? Uh, right?" he repeated when Giles didn’t answer immediately.

"He doesn’t actually want to part with the text," the Watcher admitted slowly. "Nor is he aware that we know he is in possession of it."

Spike snorted from his seat atop the counter, where he was amusing himself by kicking his heels into the side of it.

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy said out of habit, not even looking over at him.

Spike’s eyes widened innocently, and he held his hands out in a ‘what did *I* say’ gesture. Xander frowned at him. Spike grinned back.

"How are we going to get the book, then?" Willow asked, biting her lip nervously.

"I’d suggest breaking in and stealing it if I thought we’d get away with it," Giles mused. "But his house is like a fortress."

"Yeah," Willow added. "He spent *loads* on a top-of-the-line security system, and has a dozen security personnel stationed around the premises, inside and out, at any one time."

"And we know this how?" Xander asked. Willow grinned, and made a typing motion with her fingers. "Cool," he said. "‘Net girl strikes again!"

"So if we can’t buy it, and we can’t steal it," Buffy said, "how are we going to get it?"

"Oh, I didn’t say we couldn’t steal it," Giles corrected her, slipping his glasses back onto his nose. "Just that we couldn’t break in." He paused. "We need to get someone on the inside."

Silence blanketed the room. Then Xander spoke. "Like an undercover sting operation?" he asked excitedly.

"Er, yes, very much like that," Giles agreed.

"Will we have cool toys like James Bond?" he asked.

"I, um, well, we can get cell phones," Giles said.

"I’m in!" Xander said with a grin.

"Excellent," Giles said. "I was hoping you’d agree. We really couldn’t do it without you, Xander. You’ll need backup, though, and it’ll have to be someone who won’t blow your cover..."

"Cover? I’ll have a cover?" Xander asked, bouncing in his seat.

"...and I might be recognized - as a warlock who might have some interest in the book in question, of course - so Spike will have to go with you."

"Spike?" Xander yelped in dismay.

"This has the potential to be a bit dangerous."

"Wait! Uh, how dangerous?" Xander asked, at the same time Spike loudly declined.

"Oh, no!" The vampire jumped off the counter. "You lot have no use for me until you need someone to do your dirty work. Well, count me out." He headed for the front door of the Magic Box.

"There could be violence involved," Giles tempted him. "Many of the guards are of the non-human variety. And we’ll pay you, of course," he added.

Spike hesitated. "How much?"

"How much violence, or how much money?" Giles asked.

"Both," Spike replied, turning back into the shop.

"I’ll pay you $100, plus expenses," Giles said. "As for the violence, that’s really unquantifiable. If everything goes well, you’ll get out with the book and both your skins intact without anyone knowing the difference. We all know that things don’t always go perfectly, however, which is why you’ll be there to provide Xander backup."

"Two hundred," Spike said, just to be difficult. He’d do it for the violence alone, but they didn’t have to know that. All that talk about not wanting to do the dirty work wasn’t completely true, he just didn’t like having to do *their* dirty work. Pillocks.

"One fifty," Giles countered.

"Done," Spike agreed.

Giles nodded his head, sealing the bargain. He’d have gone much higher to get his hands on this text. Now came the hard part.

"Kormac hangs out at a club. I’d like the two of you to start frequenting the club, see if you can make contact, possibly get introduced to him. Hopefully, he’ll find you both interesting and invite you back to his home for one of the parties he’s been rumored to throw, and you’ll be able to locate and secure the volume we need. Willow will print out all the relevant information you’ll need about Kormac so you can study him before meeting him. Now," he rubbed his hands together, eager to get started. "The next thing we’ll need to do is get you both some new clothes. What you have on now will never be acceptable to get you in the door. This club caters to people of a...high caliber, shall we say?"

"What club is it, anyway?" Spike asked.

"Sin City," Giles said matter-of-factly, and waited for the expected explosion.

"Are you bleedin’ *nuts*?" Spike yelled.

"Isn’t that a gay club?" Xander squeaked.

***

Spike couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this. One hundred and fifty bucks was *not* worth the aggravation of having to play nice with Xander bloody Harris for one hour, much less however long it would take to retrieve the book the Watcher needed. Despite the promise of violence and new clothes. He glanced across the training room where the brunette was brandishing a sword. He struck a pose. "I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, and there can be only one," he intoned deeply, and Spike rolled his eyes. Not even the incentive of fully-paid expenses could make this bearable.

He dropped onto the couch and pulled out his flask, shaking it to determine the level of liquor inside. He was *definitely* going to need more of this. He took a swig. Where were the silly bints, anyway? How long did it take to pick up some clothes? They’d taken their measurements the night before, Giles had entrusted them with his credit card and a list of requirements, and they were supposed to bring the clothes to the Magic Box so they could try them on to make sure everything fit.

As if his thoughts had conjured them, Spike heard the front door to the magic shop open as the three girls entered the store. Xander glanced towards the front of the shop, and then fumbled nervously with the sword trying to put it away. Spike heard his heartbeat speed up and could smell the anxiety wafting off him. In response, Spike shifted lower on the couch, assuming a careless sprawl.

"We’re here, and we have clothes!" Buffy said as she pushed through the beaded curtain and into the training room with Willow and Tara following her. All three girls were loaded down with bags, and giggling. Spike adopted an expression of bored indifference. They’d better have gotten him black.

Willow and Tara stopped in front of him. "Hey, Spike," Willow said.

"Red," he growled. He nodded at Tara, who blushed in return.

"Wanna see what we got?"

"S’pose. Better be black," he said, watching the two girls set their bags down on the floor in front of him. He shifted forwards as they began pulling items out, and then grabbed them out of their hands. Black leather pants, a thigh-length black leather jacket, a new pair of black boots, a blue silk shirt...

***

Xander stood nervously in the middle of the training room. He’d been trying to distract himself, but that was no longer possible - the girls were here. How had he gotten roped into this? Oh, yeah, he’d *volunteered*! Undercover work had sounded like fun until he found out his backup would be Spike, and that he was going undercover at a gay bar. And had he mentioned, undercover with *Spike*?

"Xan," Buffy said with a grin as she stopped in front of him.

"Buff," he responded suspiciously.

"Gotcha some new clothes," she said, her grin widening.

"That’s what I’m afraid of," he whimpered. He just knew that look was the last thing a vamp saw when she moved in for the dust.

"Don’t worry," she said. "They’re tasteful." She pulled out a pair of silver leather pants.

"Leather?" he gasped.

"Yep!" she chirped. "Here, try ‘em on." She held them out.

Xander pulled his hands back, staring at the pants in shock. "What?" he squeaked.

"Try ‘em on," Buffy said again. "We have to make sure they fit." She tossed the pants at him, and Xander reflexively reached out to catch them. His mouth opened and closed in horror as Buffy pulled out a red mesh t-shirt. He barely saw Spike stuff his booty back into the bags, call the bathroom, and race out of the training room.

"I can’t wear that!" Xander yelped, finally finding his voice.

"Sure ya can," Buffy encouraged.

"Uh, Buff," Willow said. "He needs some privacy."

"No!" Xander cried, and all three girls turned to stare at him. "I mean, uh, yeah, privacy, but I can’t..." He desperately held the clothes back out to Buffy.

"We want to see what each outfit looks like," Buffy commanded, as she pushed back through the curtain.

Xander looked at the clothes in his hands and swallowed hard.

"I’m counting to ten!" Buffy called from the store.

"Eep!" Xander dropped the pants and began undoing his khakis as he kicked his sneakers off. He pulled on the leather pants, then shrugged out of his jacket and took his shirt off. He pulled the mesh t-shirt on. It was too short to tuck in, so he fastened the leather pants. They were *way* too tight.

"Buff?" he called, and the three girls immediately appeared. "I think these are too small." Buffy looked him over critically, then grabbed his ass. "Hey!" he protested, jumping away.

"Nope." She shook her head. "I think they fit perfectly. What do you think?" She turned to Willow and Tara.

"Oh, yeah," Willow agreed.

"Mmm hmm." Tara nodded.

"Just a tip, though, Xan." Buffy leaned in close so she could whisper. "When you wear ‘em out, lose the boxers."

"What?" he yelped.

***

Spike sauntered out of the bathroom, the clothes stuffed back into the bags. Giles and the three girls were gathered around the research table. He dropped the bags in the middle of the table. "They fit," he said nonchalantly. Inside he was crowing. It might be worth hanging out with Xander Harris if he got to keep *those* clothes. It had been a while since he’d been treated as a Master Vampire, but now he could at least dress the part.

"Good heavens," Giles said, looking into the bags. "Could you have stuffed them in here any more haphazardly?" He pulled the clothes out and laid them on the table. "We’ll be keeping your new wardrobe here, just to make certain they remain in good shape for our, uh, mission." He pulled out a hanger as he spoke and hung the white poet’s shirt he held on it. Each of the girls automatically grabbed a hanger, and soon the clothes were all hung on a portable clothes rack that Giles must have assembled while he was trying on the clothes. At least, it never used to sit in the middle of the shop.

"Sure thing, Rupes," he said, and then jumped up onto the counter. "Where’s Harris?" he asked. He could sense the boy in the back room; his heart was still pounding, and his anxiety seemed to have increased.

"Still trying on clothes," Buffy replied.

"Oh...my...God!" They all heard a screech from the training room.

Spike’s eyes narrowed as he watched the three chits exchange looks and struggle to keep straight faces.

"Buffy!" Xander screamed. "I am *not* wearing these!"

"I told you he’d balk at the red lace-up leather pants," Tara said calmly, and then all three girls broke into sniggers.

"Try them on, Xander!" Buffy yelled back, in her best I-am-the-Slayer, do-as-I-say voice.

Spike was horrified. Monkey boy was going to wear lace-up leather pants? In public? And he, Spike, the Big Bad, was going to be seen with him? Spike groaned inwardly. If he wasn’t already, he was certainly going to be a laughing stock after this.

***

Giles sent Buffy out to patrol, and Willow and Tara home so he could speak privately with Xander and Spike. When the three of them were sitting around the research table, he looked closely at them and opened his mouth to speak, then took a deep breath and exhaled loudly before slumping in his chair and whipping his glasses off his nose simultaneously with the handkerchief from his pocket, and proceeded to forcefully clean the lenses.

"Uh, Giles?" Xander called softly to him.

"Was there a purpose to keepin’ us here, Watcher?" Spike asked in a bored tone.

It was the impetus Giles needed. He slipped the glasses back onto his nose, and the handkerchief back into his pocket. "Yes," he said firmly. "I’d like to discuss the roles you’re both going to play in this..."

"Undercover operation?" Xander eagerly supplied.

"Farce?" Spike muttered, still stuck on the image of Xander in red lace-up leather pants.

"Er, yes. Undercover operation, that is," Giles agreed.

"What’s to talk about?" Spike asked, trying to get the picture out of his head. "We go in, meet this bloke with the book, get invited to his place, snatch the book, and get our asses out of there. ‘Less monkey boy wants to stay," he added with a sneer.

Xander opened his mouth to reply, but Giles forestalled him. "Yes, well," he said, automatically reaching for his glasses, and then stopping himself. "It’s not really going to be as simple as that makes it sound."

"It’s not?" Xander asked, worry coloring his voice.

Giles threw him an exasperated look. "No," he said. "At the best of times the two of you aren’t friends..."

Xander made a gagging noise.

"I bloody well hope not," Spike drawled.

"...as you’ve just proven. Thank you," he added with a good dose of sarcasm. "Despite the, er, *venue*," he continued, "I certainly don’t expect the two of you to act as if you’re lovers..."

Xander’s eyes bugged as he struggled to speak.

"Sod that!" Spike cried.

Giles ignored them both. "...or even on a first date..."

Xander choked. Spike slapped him on the back a little harder than necessary and winced as the chip twinged.

"...but you must at least act *friendly* or you’ll never be able to pull this off," he concluded.

"Lovers?" Xander gasped.

Giles sighed. "It *is* a gay club, Xander," he reminded the boy.

"I know *that*!" Xander said. He looked at Spike with a frown creasing his brow. "But nobody’d believe we were *lovers*!" he spat.

"Certainly not the way you act now," Giles interjected.

"Yeah, I’ve got better taste than him," Spike snarked.

"Who in their right mind would believe I’d go out with..." Xander looked Spike over critically. "...this Billy Idol wannabe? I mean, look at those clothes. And his hair!"

"You’re one to speak, you...," Spike started angrily, then hesitated and ran his hand over his hair. "What’s wrong with my hair?" he growled.

Dejected, Giles leaned back in his chair and mumbled to himself as Spike and Xander continued to argue. "I guess we could use someone else. Buffy can’t go, because she’s the Slayer. They’d recognize her immediately. I can’t go with either Xander or Spike. In addition to the possibility of being recognized, Kormac’s taste runs to the...younger set, he’d never invite me back to his home. That only leaves me with one choice. It’s unfortunate; they’re so innocent and naive still, but there’s no help for it. Willow and Tara will have to go..."

"What?" Xander yelped in mid-insult, his attention attracted by Giles’ casual pronouncement.

"Yes," Giles continued as if he hadn’t heard Xander. "Willow and Tara. I should call them tonight to let them know of the change in plan..."

"You can’t send Willow and Tara there!" Xander objected.

"Better them than us," Spike disagreed.

"We’ll need to return the clothes so we have money to buy them each a new wardrobe for the..."

"Thank God!" Xander breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of not having to wear the red lace-up leather pants, and then realized that meant Willow and Tara would have to be the ones going undercover. And getting the cool phone.

"Wait, what do you mean, return the clothes?" Spike interrupted.

"Well," Giles said happily, rubbing his hands together. "I’m glad that’s settled."

"No!" Xander squeaked.

"Nothing’s settled," Spike added ominously.

"What do you mean?" Giles asked, allowing confusion to slip into his voice. "I thought you’d both be happy I’d come up with an alternative solution, seeing as neither of you can stand the company of the other long enough to..."

"I can do it," Xander said with resolve. He wouldn’t let Willow be put in danger because of Spike.

"Me, too," Spike growled. He wasn’t going to lose those posh new clothes because of Xander.

"Wonderful!" Giles said with glee. "Then you’ll need to be able to act friendly towards one another, so here is your first assignment in preparation for the, er, undercover operation. Tomorrow night, the two of you, The Bronze, pool, get along, and try to make a point of saying at least one nice thing to the other." He looked at the expressions on Xander and Spike’s faces. "Never mind, that might be too much for the first time. How about you both attempt to remain civil with each other for the duration of the evening. You know, be polite. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t..."

"We get it," Spike hissed, already feeling jittery at the prospect of having to be *nice* to Xander Harris.

"Of course," Giles said. "Now why don’t the two of you go home and get some rest. Tomorrow’s a big day!" He watched as both men stood from the table with determination and strode purposefully from the shop. He was just congratulating himself on a job well-done when he heard Spike say, "See you tomorrow night at The Bronze, moron," and Xander’s reply, "I’ll be there at eight o’clock, fangless." He sighed, and took his glasses off. It was a start.

Part Two: Training Missions