This week's ABH is rated PG-13. Some swearing takes place. Hope you all
enjoy!



You are sitting in the darkened theater, Oliver Sampson by your side, and
giggling like a wicked thing at the antics of Austin Powers on the screen
before you. Oliver sighs for what must be the thousandth time. "What now?"

"No decent spy would ever call attention to himself like that, I mean just
look at that."

"Oh for God's sake Oliver, take the stick out of your rear. It's a movie."

Oliver's phone beeps to life with an accompaniment of shushing from the
audience before you. He opens the phone and takes his call behind the lining
of his jacket for a bit of privacy. After two or three minutes, he closes
the phone and looks at you apologetically.

"Let me guess," you whisper. "That was our Employers. You're needed
immediately for an assignment, but they don't really require me. I should
stay and watch the movie and you'll see me at home tomorrow?"

"What are you now, psychic?"

"No. When you ran out to go and get more popcorn, I tagged along and saw you
call Rick. Heard you ask him to get you the next available assignment, no
matter what it was, as long as it was within the next two hours."

"Love I..."

You pick up your popcorn and move further down the row, sitting down without
another look to Oliver. You hear him move away, see the fleeting change in
light as the theater door opens and closes. You set down the popcorn. You've
just lost your appetite. You love Oliver more than the whole wide world, but
sometimes he is just so deeply serious you could throttle him. All you were
hoping for was for him to unleash his silly side, just for a couple of
hours. Now you are starting to wonder if he even has one. And what does that
mean for the two of you? You let yourself fall back into the movie, your
heart a little worse for wear and find it a more than adequate diversion.

When you get home, you shower perfunctorily, change for bed and then climb
in. You try to sleep, but can't. The more you think about Oliver, the madder
you are getting. No. He's going to answer some questions this time.

You turn on your light and sit up in the bed, bringing your phone to your
lap and dialing his cell phone number. The phone rings once, then you hear
it click on on the other end, followed by a whispered curse. "Yes!? What!?"

"It's me."

"Shit."

"Well hello to you too."

"Look Love, I don't have time for this right now."

"Yeah, I know. No time for the movie, no time to talk."

"It's not that I don't want to it's just...Shit!"

"Oliver?" You hear the sound of the phone drop and the sound of Oliver in
pain. "Oliver?!"

"Dammit! Dammit! Ow!" He picks the phone up again.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"No I bloody well am not! He pushed past me and knocked me flat on my
backside."

"And?"

"And right onto the syringe I had ready for him."

"AND??"

"And I was only supposed to give him 2 cc's and I just took the full hit."

"Shit. Oliver, what was in that syringe?"

You can hear him yawn. "So sleepy just..."

You hear the sound of the phone drop. "Oliver? Oliver? Dammit! Answer me!
Oliver?!" You call his name for what must be five minutes, and then the line
goes dead. "Damn!" You hang up and dial Rick's number.

"Pick up you little weasel...Rick?! Thank God. Look, I don't know what you
sent Oliver out for tonight, but he's in big trouble. He took a full dosage
of whatever was in his syringe and he is down."

"Christ. Sit tight and let me know if you hear from him. I'm sending people
to get him right away." You hear the sound of a dial tone and try not to
panic. Pacing the room, you hope the last thing to pass between you and
Oliver won't be an argument.

The hours pass, slow and torturous. You have worn a path in the carpet. You
have chewed your fingernails almost to the quick. You've cried and thrown
things and cursed as you've beaten your fists against the walls. You just
want him home to irritate you to no end again.

As the sun begins to rise, there is a knock on the door. You race over to it
and fling it open, not even thinking twice about the fact that you are still
only wearing your satin nightshirt.

As the door opens to reveal your visitor to you, your jaw drops. Standing
before you is a dizzying mass of blue velvet, white lace, and patten
leather. It's Oliver Sampson, dressed like Austin Powers, complete with
haircut. Oh you hope that's a wig or he is going to kill himself later. $200
haircut reduced to that. "Hello Baby, I'm back."

You throw your arms around him and hug him for all you're worth. The
questions can wait until later, or so you think until you feel his hand
creep under your shirt and onto your butt. "Ah what have we here?"

"Oliver?"

"We're a cheeky bird then aren't we?"

"Oliver what was in that syringe?"

"Oh little of this, little of that. Who can remember? How d'ya like me new
duds? Traded in my square suit for this smashing get up Baby. Ditched the
hair gel in favor of something more swingin'. Felt like a shag, so naturally
I came here. So can I ask you a question? Do I make you horny Baby? Well, do
I?"

"Uh...s-sure."

"Grrrroovy Baby. Let's shag!" Before you can say yes, no, or who's got the
Prozac, he has swept you into his arms and is carrying you toward the
bedroom. He sets you down, nipping kisses along your jawline.

"Just uh, just let me make a phone call first." You need to call Rick and
tell him Oliver has turned up safe. You need to tell him to get here with an
antidote A.S.A.P. You start to rise only to have him push you back down
lightly, crawling to cover your body. You look into his eyes and see danger
there. Ye Gods, what a combination you've gotten. Austin Powers' mojo with
Oliver Sampson's determination and technique. Frankenstein could have
counted his blessings.

You are trying to get up, trying not to notice how the blue velvet clings to
his lean, long frame, trying not to react to the fact that he has unbuttoned
your shirt far enough to slip a warm hand in and knead your breast. When you
feel his mouth move in to replace his hand, you know it is speak now or
forever hold your peace time. "Oliver wait!"

"Yeah Baby?"

You are attempting, with some difficulty, to catch your breath. "I really
have to make this phone call first."

"Well, whatever floats your boat Baby. Just hurry back. Mojo like this can't
be held back without nasty consequences."

He moves aside, barely enough for you to slide by and get off the bed. As
you stand, you receive a sound slap to your rear. When you turn back to look
at him, he wiggles his eyebrows and purrs. Oh man this is going to be a long
night. You make it to the hallway, keeping him in sight on the bed through
the open door, and dial Rick's number.

"Rick? It's me. Oliver's here."

"Oh good. How is he acting?"

"He's acting like Au...uh a character in the movie we saw last night. What's
the antidote?"

You can hear the smile in Rick's voice as he asks, "What movie was that? Who
is he acting like?"

"Um...Phantom Menace. Yeah, he uh, he thinks he's Qui-Gon Jinn. He's got a
sword and wants me to let him out to stop an invasion." You look at Oliver,
who is now trying different poses out on the bed, trying to decide which one
affords you a better view of his rear end.

"Are you looking at my bum? Is it making you rrrandy Baby? Yeah!"

"What's that he said?"

"He said May the Force Be With You. Rick, antidote now!"

"Follow these directions..."

******

"Where've you gone Baby?"

You appear about ten minutes later with a drink in hand. In the meantime,
Oliver has stripped down to a pair of British flag briefs, much too brief to
think about rationally. "I made you a drink."

"Groovy. What, none for you?"

"You know I don't really drink. I was uh, hoping maybe I'd get one of your
famous massages in return?"

"I think that can be arranged." He gulps the drink down in one go. You
breathe a sigh of relief, and start to wonder how long it will be before it
takes effect. You kneel onto the bed before him, starting to lay down, when
he stops you, tugging on the tail of your shirt. "This will uh, be in the
way."

"Okay." You unbutton your shirt the rest of the way, not stopping him as he
slips it off of your shoulders. You lay down on your chest on the bed. He
sits lightly across your thighs, his warm strong hands coming down to your
back as he begins to stroke the flesh there, slowly. Just as you are
starting to get quite into the feel of his hands on you, you hear Oliver
groan. He slumps forward, right on top of you.

You try for several minutes to move him off of you, or to squirm out from
under him, with no luck either way. Soon enough, you hear Oliver grumble and
feel him stir. "What hit me?"

"mrrumumphet off."

"What?" He moves off of you partially.

"I said get off."

He rolls the rest of the way off. You stretch to make sure you don't have
permanent dents and then turn to lay on his chest. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"Would I be asking if I did?" Yup. He was definitely his old self.

"You accidentally shot yourself up with a full hit of Committee Potion #9
last night. You came here this morning, convinced you were Austin Powers."

"I did not!"

"How would you like your proof Big Boy? 8 x 10 glossy or VHS?"

Oliver looks down at the underwear he has on. "Oh great." His hands come up
to his hair. He runs them through it once, then turns to you and frowns. "I
didn't."

"It'll grow back...eventually," you are trying, unsuccessfully, not to
smile.

"You're really enjoying yourself aren't you?"

"Which part, you trying to "Shag me Baby" for the past hour, or the fact
that if you could've just tried to have a good time at the movie for two
hours last night, you wouldn't have gotten into this predicament? Either
way, I am pretty much in gloat mode." He flips you over in the bed and pins
you beneath him once more. "If I'd have known oxygen was so fleeting, I
would have taken deeper breaths."

"I'm going to wipe that smile off your face."

His bare chest is pressing against yours, his hands holding your arms over
your head. "Oh yeah tough guy? How?"

"Like this," he leans down and kisses you breathless. When you come up for
air, he is smiling at you. "You wanna shag Baby?"

You giggle. "Yeah Baby, yeah!"

He kisses you again, "Yeah Baby," he purrs it against your throat, breaking
your skin out in goosebumps, "yeah."


Have a Shagadelic Monday!

GylzGirl :-)


"Above all things, I believe in love." ~Christian (Moulin Rouge)

GylzGirl's Anthony Stewart Head Shrine http://www.geocities.com/gylzgirl
GilesNaughty Listmom http://groups.yahoo.com/group/gilesnaughty Giles'
Chick-Pit Dracu-Babe #1. ICTC! BeeGee #6. Rogue Demon #29 Keeper of
Giles' hands in pockets mannerism, Little Rupert's "Watcher Ken" doll, now
with new Kung-Fu Ripper Kick, Adam's Rrrowwwrrr, Oliver's Hoop Earring.
Recipient of a kiss on the cheek from Tony Head

Red Windmill: Moulin Rouge Fanfic Archive
http://www.sockiipress.org/~gylzgirl/red/index.html