Handcuffs

By Shakespeare's Girl

A/N: For the challenge mentioned in "Toys."

It happened before he could think to stop it. A tiny "click" and the cool press of a circle of metal around one wrist. Then, just as he registered this new sensation, another "click" and his hands were behind him, cuffed together.

Spike finally let his head snap up and around, looking into brown eyes he trusted more than he'd ever realized. And he wasn't fighting the cuffs. "What's all this, then?" he asked.

Angel shrugged. "I got a tip from security. They seem to think you've been wandering around stealing staplers from unsuspecting office clerks."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Git deserved it."

"All the same, I feel that in the interest of this company, punitive measures should be taken."

"Punitive measures?" Spike repeated.

"Yes. And for the record, this has nothing to do with the fact that I find you irresistible and is in fact, all about making sure that no further staplers are stolen."

"Right," Spike nodded as Angel directed him toward a convenient chair. "Got it. You in no way find me irresistible."

"As long as that's settled," Angel smirked, and pushed gently at Spike's back. "Bend over, please. You may rest your head against the chair back if necessary."

Spike could hear the slither of leather through belt loops, and the soft slap of leather against a human palm. He smirked. If this was headed where he thought it was . . . Sure enough, Angel's belt came snapping down on Spike's jean-covered ass.

Twenty blows later--a few of which came uncomfortably close to Spike's family jewels--Spike was allowed to straighten back up. Angel leaned close and unlocked the handcuffs.

"I trust there will be no further infractions?" Angel asked, eyebrows raised expectantly, voice hinting that further infractions would not be unwelcome, although clearly that was not the answer to give.

Spike turned around, keeping his hands behind him, trying his best to look innocent and contrite. "Oh no sir, no more infractions from me."

Angel must have bought it, because he grumbled "Good," and put his belt back on before stalking off.

Spike grinned. "Wonder where he keeps his stapler?" he asked the empty room before heading out to plan his next assault.

With penalties like this, Stapler Stealing was going to become a sport.