Title: 500 Minutes
Chapter 1 – Careful What you Wish For

Summary: Spike meets a beautiful woman at a bar, unaware that she's really targeting him. But when he fails to show up for work one day, can the team find him before time runs out? What is her plan for him and who else is involved?

Disclaimer: Sadly I own nothing from the awesomeness that is Flashpoint, that belongs to CTV, CBC and whoever else! Lol Any other OC's are my own and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidence as I use a random name generator for most of my OC's

A/N: Well thanks for the kind words of confidence for my last fic it has given me the courage to proceed with a longer fic. This one will center on Spike it'll have some romance, danger, peril, angst and action. And thanks to all that voted in my poll. So Wordy will focus here next to Spike and I'll use Sam in the next story since he's next (so far – but you can still vote). Hope you all like it.

"Alright team good job. One more day and then it's the weekend. Get some rest and see you all tomorrow," Sargent Greg Parker's warm voice tells his team after a trying case and an even longer week. Each member slowly disperses, talking about their plans for the weekend, laughing and joking and then finally going their separate ways.

Spike heads into the locker room and slowly pulls the two doors open and stares at his leather jacket and jeans. Great, another weekend listening to my parents arguing about my professional future. And when they weren't arguing with him, Spike's parents hardly had anything to say unless it was a few terse sentences or comments about things they had saw earlier in the news.

"Yeah fun…"

He hears a small shuffle behind him and turns to see fellow team mate and friend, Kevin, 'Wordy' Wordsworth looking at him in suspect.

"You know once you start talkin' to yourself…" his voice trails off as he turns back to his locker.

"Intelligent conversation right? 'sides I'm kinda used to it," Spike finishes with a quieter tone, drawing Wordy's glance back in his direction and then finally step toward him.

"Now that was morbid. But you have been kinda morbid all week," Wordy's hand finally rests on his shoulder. "Now I'm gonna borrow Ed's line and say…'wanna talk about it?'"

Spike gives his friend a weak smile but just shakes his head and turns away. "I mean really it's no big deal."

"I don't even need the boss's insight to know you are lying. Come on, what's going on?"

Spike turns back to his friend and heaves a heavy sigh before finally reaching into his side pocket and pulling out a folded up piece of paper. "Wordy, it's no big deal," Spike insists as he tries to snatch it back, rethinking his decision a few seconds too late.

But Wordy's thick grasp keeps his younger friend's hands at bay as he reads the official letter. "Congratulations you were first place at…what is this exactly?"

Spike just smirks as he is finally able to snatch the paper from his friends loosened grasp and then quickly folds it up and shoves it back into his locker.

"Whatever it is, I'm guessing that it has something to do with work and mama Scarlatti didn't like it?"

"You would be correct on both guesses," Spike replies as he turns back. "It's just hard you know…to come home every night to two people who don't give a damn about what I do and only give you fake smiles because you threaten to not eat dinner with them that night," Spike just shakes his head in frustration. "Once a year all the tactical comm…geeks," he grins and Wordy just smiles at the non-techno reference, "get together and are tested on hacking skills. It's a legit competition to see who is the fastest and the best. And this year…"

"You won. That's great," Wordy pats his friend on the back.

"Yeah…great," Spike offers him a fake smile before he turns around to gather his jeans and shirt to change. "Alright well um…I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Did you tell anyone else on the team about this?"

"No…haven't really had time this week. Look it's no big deal. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You know Shelly and the girls are at her mom's place for a few more hours…why don't I take you for a beer to celebrate?"

"It's okay you don't have to…"

"I know I don't have to, but I would like to. It's on me," Wordy presses his friend a bit more.

"Yeah. That sounds good. Just lemme change."

Spike gathers his clothes and heads for the bathroom, his anxiety easing a little bit more. Since he had gotten that letter a few days ago, he had tried to tell, at least his mother on a few different occasions but she'd always try to deflect the topic away from his actual job.

'Ma, it's a great recognition. I mean these were the top guys in the whole country and it was a test by the Gove…'

'Why don't you go to work for Microsoft. You are a smart boy, you could have a regular job and make a lot of money.'

'I don't want to work for Mircrosoft and it's not about the money.'

'Well I think it would be much better. I'm sure your boss could give you a good reference.'

'I make a difference in this job.'

'You could make a difference working for…'

And on it went. If it wasn't Microsoft, it was some other company; anything that would land his ass in a chair and take a gun out of his hands – permanently. 'There is too much danger in what you do Michael', his mother would chide. 'Why don't you listen to us for once? Don't you care about your parents? Do you want to leave me all alone? To fend for myself when your father is gone?'

So he had kept his enthusiasm at bay for the past few days because he had work to concentrate on and the last few cases had run well into the evening and when the team finally dispersed it was late and everyone just wanted to go home; except for him. Spike wanted to go anywhere but home, anywhere to talk to or share with someone his accomplishment.

But going for a beer with a good friend was something he was now looking forward to and so exits the bathroom with lessened agitation than when he entered.

"You sure you want to go? Because I really don't mind just headin' home. Kinda used to either the silent treatment or the verbal death by indifference by now."

"Okay stop with the sad stories or I'll end up adopting you myself," Wordy grins as he grabs his jacket and shuts his locker closed. "Yeah I'm sure."

The two of them walk out of the quiet room, leaving behind a wake of mild laughter and a few heavy sighs of relief. Spike enters the familiar bar and nervously looks around for any new faces. He hated the term 'the prowl' and so had told himself and their bartender friend 'Lou' that he wasn't purposely looking but if any interesting women were to come in, send a note in his direction.

"Hey boys. What brings two of the city's finest here on a Thursday? Wordy, isn't it a school night?" The larger man teases.

"We're celebrating Lou," Wordy smiles over at Spike. "Actually Spike is."

"Yeah? What did the boy wonder do this time?"

"Hacked into the federal reserve," Wordy chuckles, forcing Spike to just roll his eyes and shake his head.

"The federal reserve huh," Lou smirks. "Next time couldya transfer a couplea million into my account. The wife wants a new roof."

"Yeah I'll see what I can do," Spike winks as they both sit down at the bar to await their first two beers. However, while their actions and somewhat loud conversation was lost on most around them, two people's attentions were quickly diverted toward them.

"So what are you really celebrating?" Lou asks in a softer tone, knowing that Wordy was just joking about the federal reserve.

"Just a work thing. No biggie," Spike shrugs, never one to brag about any of his technological accomplishments. One of the 'fake' hacking exercises was to see who could get past a series of clever traps and into a special training room in the federal reserve. Spike was the first to accomplish the task; the real code for the federal reserve of course being, at least to date, unbreakable.

"You know I envy what you and Ed have."

"Spike… we're not gay," Wordy teases as he takes a swig of his beer. Spike laughs and just nods as he too takes a swig.

"I just wish I had that. What you guys do. Someone…ah never mind."

"You'll have your own family one day," Wordy's tone turns a bit serious as he qualifies Spike's comment.

"A loving wife and a great set of kids. You think so?"

"Yeah I do. But it's been a lot of hard work and sacrifices and yes as Ed will attest to, sometimes ultimatums."

"But despite all that is it worth it?"

"Spike…"

"Is it?" Spike repeats.

"Every second of every day," Wordy answers in truth. "It's what keeps both of us sane and on the straight and narrow."

"I wish I had that. I go home to arguing, bickering and tension. I mean my dad is on death's door and still all he can do is argue about my work and then give me the silent treatment. I feel like a bad teenager who's wrecked his dads car most nights of the week. I'm his only son, you'd think that would count for something."

Wordy listens to his friends anguished confession. Spike had faced a lot of personal trauma on the job so far, more so than most, except maybe Greg. He had lost one of his closest friends to a bomb and then his friend and mentor to a drug sting shootout gone bad. And instead of going home to a loving supportive family, he went home to arguments and tension; nothing to ease his stress-ridden conscience at the end of the day.

"You know Shelly has this friend. She's a recent divorcee, no kids and…"

"Thanks but um…I'm okay."

"Alright but she's a nice girl and…"

"Girl?" Spike arches his brows.

"Woman," Wordy just rolls his eyes. "Just tell me you'll think about it for longer than two seconds or asking your mother's approval."

"Funny," Spike answers dryly.

"Alright so speaking of women, what are you looking for?" Wordy asks seriously.

"I um…" Spike pauses with a small laugh as an attractive woman slowly walks up to the bar and sits down a few seats over. She gives her shoulder length dark red locks a small flip over her left shoulder, giving Spike a coy smile and then quickly looking away.

"Her," he turns back to Wordy with a shy grin of his own.

Wordy looks past Spike, eyeing the attractive woman for a few seconds and then turning back to his friend. "For a one night stand?"

"Not um…really? One night only?"

"You know what…go for it. You're here to celebrate right," Wordy nods at Spike, not realizing that he was innocently pushing his friend into unwitting danger that would soon have his very life on the line.

"And what about you?"

"I don't do threesoms," Wordy winks and Spike just smirks before he looks over at the woman who was looking at him once more and then offers a small mouthed 'hello'. "Just go for it," Wordy nudges.

"I um…I can't. She looks…"

"Out of your league? Trust me Spike she's…well she's coming over right now."

"What?" Spike asks in haste as he turns to see the attractive woman near them. "Okay…um, hello."

"Hi there," she smiles as she sits down beside Spike. "You alone?"

"Yes he is," Wordy pipes up. "I was just askin' him the time. Thanks again. See you tomorrow," he whispers into Spike's ear as he stands up to leave. "You owe me," he adds just before he heads toward the entrance doors, slapping down a couple of bucks onto the top of the bar table and steps outside into the cool night air, smiling at the thought that maybe his friend's bad luck at meeting girls had finally run out.

"I'm Spike."

"Spike? Does that mean something in particular stands…upright?" She teases and Spike's face instantly flushes.

"No it's um…it was my…my hair…well before," Spike stammers as she moves in a little closer.

"I'm Chloe. And the real reason I came over here was to ask you for your help."

"My…help?" Spike inquires as he feels his happiness starting to deflate. "Help with what?"

"My phone," she opens her palm and shows him her phone. "I saw you had the same one and…"

"Oh yours is last years. Mine is…"

"Bigger. I see…well you know size does matter. What else do you have that's...bigger," she openly flirts as moves in a little closer, her skin forcing the right side of his face to warm further. Spike's mind races as his face flushes but his brain cannot seem to send his lips anything inteligible at the moment to reply with. So it was back to the task at hand. Help.

"What did you um need help with?" Spike asks nervously, praying for his heart rate to slow long enough for him to speak a normal sentence.

"With this. See it…I am trying to get this app to open and…"

"Yeah hold on…see if you do this…" Spike starts to instruct as she moves in even closer, her lips almost brushing his face. "And then…" he turns to face her, his lips brushing hers before he pulls back slightly. "Oh sorry."

"Don't be…you smell good," she smiles. "Thanks for the help. What can I reply you with?"

"Re-pay? Oh….nothing I didn't mind," Spike blushes. "I had the same problem myself when I first picked it up. Want another…what are you drinking?"

"Want to share something?"

"Sure. What do you want?"

"From you? I would like sex, bang and blow," she answers with a smile as her foot brushes up his leg.

Spike nearly coughs up his last mouthful of beer, making the woman named Chloe beside him giggle and Lou just shake his head.

"Pardon?"

"Bartender?" Chloe smiles at Lou.

"Spike you gotta get out more. One SBB comin' up ma'am."

"That's a drink name?" Spike asks in shock.

"You'd prefer the real thing?" She leans in closer, her lips brushing the side of his face, leaving a faint stain of lipstick on his smooth olive toned skin. "That I can arrange also."

"Sure but...uh...what's um…in it?" Spike asks weakly, his temperature soaring and his heart racing at top speed.

"It's a blended drink and I guarantee you'll like it. And then…maybe the real thing," her lips linger near his ear. "Think you'd be up…for that?" She softly flirts once more.

"Oh I…think so," Spike swallows hard and nods, begging his overheated brain to be able to offer at least once coherent sentence before the night was through. "So what do you do for work?"

"I'm a flight attendant; I live in Vancouver. I…well I don't want to talk about my family. They're um…well kinda…oh never mind you'd never understand."

"I might."

"My mother is well…sick. Early Alzheimer's and my father doesn't like that I am away from home so much as it's so hard for him to deal with. So when I'm home," she pauses with a heavy sigh. "It's endless arguments about my job and…yeah okay so sob story huh."

"Actually my family is very similar. My dad has cancer and my mom…well she worries about what I do so I guess I go home to pretty much the same thing," Spike eagerly confesses, so happy to have such a beautiful woman so attentively hanging on his every word as if she actually understood his emotional anguish.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Same here about your mom," Spike gives her a sympathetic nod.

"Thanks. And what do you do for work?"

"I work for the um…the SRU."

"And that is…"

"Oh right, strategic response unit. Bombs and electronics exp…"

"Bombs? Oh wow you must be brave," she states as she gives him a mock horrified expression. "I would love to hear all about what you do. Maybe you can diffuse my bomb," she flirts again.

"Here is your Sex, bang and blow. Two straws," Lou hands them the blended drink; interrupting before Spike can cough up another flushed stammer. "Go easy on him," Lou nods to the woman, forcing Spike's face to warm further.

"So we need something to toast. Are you um…celebrating anything special?"

"Yeah, kinda," Spike answers with a small smile. "But it's work related."

"What did you do?"

"Ah just computer stuff, nothing really that...major," Spike replies, not knowing that she had already heard his earlier conversation with Wordy and also knowing that he wasn't allowed to discuss certain things with outsiders.

"Alright and I just flew my one hundredth flight. Not many but I am working my way up there so here's to us and career milestones," she leans in, nearing his lips. The two of them finish the very generous libation, Spike's cautiousness lowering more and more until after a few more drinks and very little food, all it took was one innocent suggestion.

"Since I doubt you'd want to go and rattle the floorboards at home, what say we head back to my hotel room and you can show me what else on you is spiky," she purrs in his ear, her lips teasing his sensitive lobe with a lingering kiss, forcing his body to tingle all the way to his feet.

"Just lead the way," Spike turns to her, this time their lips meeting for a few brief seconds, but signaling to the 'guy' part of his brain that he was making the right move.

However, just as they walked out of the door, Chloe wrapping her arm around his waist, Spike was unaware of the set of narrowed eyes watching him intently; a devious plan already hatching of which he was about to become an unwitting pawn in that would have his very life at stake.

A/N: okay so what did you think so far? What does this couple have in mind for our boy Spike? And how will he fall into their trap? Please let me know as your feedback will help me determine the length (I don't want anyone getting bored) :D Thanks in advance!

PS: Oh yeah and that SBB is an actual drink :D