Xander's eye switched from the piece of notebook paper clutched in his right hand, to the wooden sign in front of them, to Weiss, and then back to the sign, then back to the notebook paper. It did so so rapidly that he was beginning to feel moderately nauseous.

"Right," he said finally, swallowing. "This seems to be the place."

Weiss nodded silently, his eyes scanning the crowded street behind them. The normally jovial man was completely serious, something which Xander hadn't really seen before, but was loathe to complain about. Apparently, he was in full "spy mode".

Team SMG Teacozy and friends had spent nearly an hour in the victor's room trying to work out the mystery of Mehri and Susan with no success, before adjourning to Second Banana Heaven, where they hoped to enlist some other "fictional" characters in the brainstorm session.

They'd been discussing manga as a possible source for the ladies when Manny had appeared to inform Willow of her impeding fight:

"Willow." Manny pushed his glasses up his narrow, slightly crooked nose. "I had not expected to find you here."

"Hiya, Manny!"

The Man straightened his tie, blushing slightly at the exuberance of Willow's greeting. "You have a battle scheduled, Willow." He cast barely a glance at Xander, who was peering intently at him. "Hello, Alexander."

"You didn't use my full name."

Manny ignored him.

"So," Willow stood, grinning broadly at the Man. "Who's butt do I kick today?"

"That of Jesus Christ."

The entirety of Second Banana Heaven fell silent. They wasted a good five minutes of Willow's prep time merely staring at the Man. It was Locke who finally broken the silence.

"Which one?"

The focus of some fifty-odd people shifted from the Man to Locke, simultaneously. The Man, however, wasn't in the least perturbed.

"From a Canadian movie titled," Manny checked his notes. "‘Jesus Christ, Vampire Hunter.'"

The staring recommenced immediately. "Well," Marshall smiled, looking a bit uncomfortable. On the other hand, Marshall ALWAYS looked uncomfortable. "That, um, should be an easy forfeit then."

Willow didn't seem reassured. "But . . . I'm JEWISH. And a witch. And a lesbian." She shook her head. "This sucks."

Xander grabbed her hand. "Have one of your team members talk to him."

Willow sighed. "Right." She held up a hand, ticking off fingers. "Velma's an atheist, Prue's another witch, Remus is a werewolf, and Blue? Yeah, I can just see the second coming LOVING that conversation."

"What about Sydney?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Thinks God hates her."

Weiss shrugged, smiling slightly. "Which considering her history, is kinda understandable."

Xander squeezed Willow's hand, then kissed her knuckles. "You'll be fine. He's Jesus, right? He has to make with the understanding."

Locke stared at him. "Have you actually READ the Bible?"

A few hours later, Willow had not yet returned, and the group had tentatively decided that Mehri and Susan were villains from a particularly obscure series of novels, possibly of the harlequin variety. TV's Frank had come to the table, sporting a tray full of beer, which Xander had been carefully NOT drinking, and slipped Xander the piece of paper he was now clutching.

"Meet me at the Meat Locker," it said. "I know who Mehri and Susan are. Don't bring your team."

Frank, when asked, had merely shrugged. He had no idea who the note was from, just that it had appeared on his tray when he was coming over with the drinks.

So, here they were, standing outside a brick warehouse building crammed in between a seaside resort and cottage on chicken legs, prepared to make a very, very suspicious meet with an unknown person.

Weiss reached up to the small black device tucked into his inner ear. "You reading us, Marshall?"

"Loud and clear," the tech geek's voice echoed through static in Xander's ear.

The CIA duo were the obvious choice of backup for this meeting. They were professional, reliable, and most importantly, not on his team. Weiss caught Xander's eye and nodded. Xander's hand drifted tentatively to the glock he had strapped to his side under the blue canvas jacket Shaun had lent him. He nodded back, but hesitated before stepping up to the metal door to the Meat Locker. He tilted his head toward a small, metal plaque to the side of the door, which he had been studying. "What do you suppose that means?"

"Proper attire enforced" it read.

Weiss shrugged. "I bet we'll find out in a minute." He took a step forward. "I'll go on point."

"Right." Xander followed Weiss to the door, then paused briefly. "What does ‘on point' mean, anyway?" The metal door squealed as it opened, and Xander shrugged. He stepped over the threshold with no small amount of apprehension.

A stiff breeze, stinking of sweat and carrying grinding, pounding bass, swept past him. Xander shivered. Goose bumps sprung up over his suddenly bare arms. And legs. And chest. He whimpered softly.

"Oooookay," Weiss' voice echoed from somewhere to his right. "That was weird."

Xander swung his head toward the other man's voice. "Your powers of understatement are astonishing," he said. Or would have said, were it not for the large piece of plastic that had somehow materialized in his mouth. He thought he was doing rather a good job of not panicking, considering he was suddenly blindfolded and gagged. And very nearly naked.

He took a step forward, hoping another breeze would come by and rectify the situation, when his foot was brought up short with a rattle of chains and he tumbled abruptly forward with a muffled shriek. He tried to catch himself before hitting the floor, but his arms refused to move from their position crossed behind his back.

Make that blindfolded, gagged, nearly naked, and CHAINED. It was like he'd gone on another demonic date, only hadn't even gotten a hot chocolate first.

"Wow," Weiss said. "That Fawkes guy really did a number on you, didn't he."

"Uh huh oo," Xander replied.

"What happened?" Marshall's voice crackled over the coms. "Was it a trap? Should I send in reinforcements?"

"No," Weiss replied, as Xander felt hands messing with something at the back of his head. "I think this is what the sign outside the door was all about."

The blindfold fell away, leaving Xander lying prone on the cold wood floor, peering up at Weiss, who was busily trying to remove the gag.

Weiss himself had apparently not come through the door unscathed. He was now rather pimped out in a gold PVC suit at least two sizes too small for him, with a bright red tie that hung loosely over his now bare chest. The coloring of the suit matched the Slave-girl Leia loincloth that was now the only thing Xander was wearing perfectly. A long, thin gold chain led from the collar around Xander's neck to Weiss's left wrist. Even the blindfold was red.

Weiss finished unbuckling the gag and sat back. "You okay?"

Xander worked his mouth and coughed slightly, before tilting his head toward his ankles. "Just so you know," He attempted to get to his knees, but only succeeded in flopping over onto his back. "I hate bondage."

Weiss nodded, his face appropriately grim. He turned his back to start working on the red leather cuffs circling Xander's ankles. "Duly noted."

Xander detected a hint of amusement in the agent's voice and glared at Weiss' shiny, gold back.

The coms buzzed again. "Um, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Xander and Weiss responded, simultaneously. Weiss tossed the leather and chain hobbles to one side and lugged Xander to his feet by his elbow.

"Gentlemen." A cool, familiar voice echoed from behind them. They spun around, and Xander nearly tumbled to the floor again. Only Weiss' hand on his elbow kept his nose from meeting the floor again. "Welcome to the Meat Locker."

Weiss tried to smile. The chain leash rattled as he attempted to pull his suit jacket closed over his chest. Xander just glowered.

The Man stood in front of them. Or, a variation on the man, at least. Gone were the clipboard and glasses. Instead, the Man held a wicked looking riding crop and wore a studded, black leather collar and leather short-shorts. He looked about as comfortable in that outfit as Xander and Weiss weren't. "I am the Bouncer. I see you are attired properly."

Xander rolled his eyes. Weiss tried to surreptitiously get rid of his gold PVC wedgie. The Man ignored both and gestured to a purple velvet curtain behind him with his riding crop. "You may enter, Gentlemen."

Weiss cleared his throat. "Thanks." He lead the way to the curtain, jerking on the leash when Xander didn't follow. "Come along." He paled slightly at the sight of Xander's face. "Erm."

They stepped through the curtain.

"Well," Weiss commented, as they stood just inside the main room of the Meat Locker, staring at the crowd. "At least I finally have Sydney beat on really, really bad undercover situations."

The Meat Locker was the bondage club to end all bondage clubs. Everywhere Weiss and Xander looked, or tried not to look, were creatures of varying humanoid shapes, wearing very little, and engaging in acts that Xander could only refer to as appalling. He recognized Tim Curry in a corset and fishnets and then very carefully stared at the ceiling. "How are we supposed to recognize our contact?"

"Not by looking at the ceiling, that's for sure." Weiss tugged gently on the leash. "Let's get going. I don't want to spend any more time here than I have to." Xander spared a glance at his *coughohdeargod* partner, and caught what was either a shrug or an attempt to get the gold jacket to fit better. "I don't even still have my gun."

"You wouldn't be able to hide it in that outfit, anyway."

Weiss tugged futilely on the waistband of his pants. "Point taken."

"Why do I have to be the sub?" Xander caught sight of what looked like Ewan McGregor wearing little more than glitter and blushed, then turned his gaze back to the ceiling.

"Please." Weiss tugged Xander forward again. "Like you could ever dominate me."

"I hate you. You know that, right?"

"I kinda figured." Weiss froze, and Xander walked directly into him.

"Hey, what--"

"The booth on our left."

"What--"

"Move, NOW!" Weiss leaped to the side, dragging Xander along behind him. With his hands still bound, Xander barely avoided hitting the floor again. He stumbled along behind the agent, his gaze flicking rapidly over the horrible, leather- and plastic-clad crowd.

"What, what, what?"

Weiss yanked him into the curtained booth and quickly drew the velvet closed behind him. He pushed Xander back against the seat, only to inadvertently drag him forward again when he leaned over to peer through the crack in the curtains. "Photographer," he bit out, then finally seemed to relax. "He's gone."

Xander stared at Weiss, his eye wide. "Oh. That would have been bad."

"Yeah."

"Did anyone see you?"

Weiss and Xander both whirled and peered into the darkness of the booth, trying to catch sight of whomever was there with them. Xander quickly adjusted his loincloth to make sure all his bits were covered, or as covered as they were going to be, and Weiss tried, again, to close his jacket. A dark, disheveled shape was squeezed into the back corner, one hand clenched around a tall glass of what looked like a gin and tonic.

"Dear god," Xander breathed, when he was relatively certain he hadn't flashed anyone. "I hope not."

"Good." The shape leaned forward into the dim, blue light over the table. Weiss let out a low whistle.

"Aaron." He leaned his elbows on the table. Xander leaned forward as well, mostly to avoid getting accidentally choked by his collar again. "Man, I thought we'd never see you again."

Aaron shrugged, taking a long drink from his gin and tonic. "Considering the fact that I've now nearly been killed by Sark, Sabertooth, a pair of really creepy guys in suits wearing blue gloves, Uma Thurman in a yellow track suit, Sean Connery in a large black beanie baby costume, and a particularly nasty version of Loki, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be seeing anyone again, either."

Xander peered at the man. He was looking about as bad as Xander himself was looking. Bruises of varying age covered what flesh was visible, which considering that Aaron had apparently been determined a sub by the front door magic, was quite a bit. "Not to be rude, or anything, but what are you doing here?"

"This was the one place I could be pretty sure Sark wouldn't find me." Aaron shrugged. "I see you got my note?"

"That was YOU?" Xander narrowed his eye. "How do you know who Mehri and Susan are?"

"There's an internet cafe down the street. I've been reading a lot of fanfiction, trying to get a handle on who our ‘hosts' for the competition might be." Aaron leaned forward again. "I think I might have figured it out. See, Mehri and Susan are--"

"Alexander Lavelle Harris?"

All three men at the table let out squeaks when Manny, the clipboard-toting, glasses-wearing Manny, appeared suddenly at the crack in the curtain. Xander let his head fall forward onto the table. "Dammit."

The Man ducked into the booth. He smiled sadly at Xander. "Alexander Lavelle Harris, you go into battle in twenty minutes."

"Gimme a frickin' BREAK!" Xander lifted his head. "Tell me that I get my clothes back when I leave, at least?"

The Man adjusted his glasses. "I am certain I do not know." He seemed completely unfazed by the strange outfits the other three men had on. "Your team awaits you in the preparation room."

"I'll go in a minute." He cast Aaron what he hoped was a meaningful look. Aaron looked back, confused and slightly appalled. Wrong kind of meaningful look, apparently. "We were discussing something kind of important."

"That would be inadvisable, Alexander Lavelle Harris." The Man looked apologetic. "You are pitted against Agent Smith, from the Matrix trilogy."

Xander let his head fall back onto the table. "Aw crap."

Weiss patted him reassuringly on the back, but the affect was somewhat marred by the chain leash and Xander's near-naked state. He turned to Manny instead, lifting his hand. "Um, can you get us unchained first?"

"But of course, Agent Weiss." The Man waved a casual hand, and the leash fell off of Weiss' wrist. Weiss blinked, then nodded, then turned back to Xander, who was glaring at him again.

"Go." Weiss nodded to Aaron. "I'll get the information and let you know after the battle."

"You get all the breaks." Xander sighed, and started inching his way off the bench seat of the booth. The leash swayed across his chest. The Man stepped back and waved Xander on ahead of him. He stepped through the curtain.

And into the preparation room. Mike and Steve took one look at him and promptly started looking elsewhere. Rogue blushed. Honeysuckle looked confused. Locke and Picard exchanged glances. Shaun let out a disgusted howl and raised his cricket bat to shield his eyes. Artie seemed entirely unfazed, and Darien just shook his head.

Frank stared at Xander with something resembling sympathy.

Xander looked down. He was still wearing the loincloth. The leash dangled just in front of his groin. His hands were still locked tightly behind his back. He tilted his head up to the ceiling and let out a very long, very loud sigh.

"I am SO screwed."