by Spikesdeb

Chapter 5

The air crackled with tension, all eyes fixed on the flamboyant stranger in their midst and the shocked figure of G standing facing the intruder.  

“Ethan Rayne.  I might have known you’d resurface one day!”  

“Ah, so you haven’t forgotten me.  I did wonder since the succulent Miss W had no idea who I was.  Hardly seems credible, does it?”  

Blond stepped forward, grabbing the faux silk shirt in his fists and lifting Rayne off his feet.  “I think you’d be wise to tell us what you know about W!”  

Rayne tried to keep calm; but the snarling features of the agent -- who could only be the infamous Spike Blond, 00666, licensed to kill – was like icy water trickling down his spine.  The way his eyes kept flickering from icy blue to amber didn’t help either.  And weren’t his teeth just a little bit too long and pointy?  

“Ripper, old man…do tell your witless thug to put me down.”  

G fought against the urge to let the vampire follow his baser instincts and rip out the man’s throat.  But Rayne was there with a purpose – and obviously knew something about W.  

“Blond.  Put him down; we should hear what he has to say.”  

The spy threw the man away from him, growling as he wiped his hands on his jacket.  

“Happy to oblige, G -- who’d have thought they still made shirts out of polyester?” he grimaced.  “Okay, Rayne, make it snappy. I’m not in the mood for games.  And it’s nearly time for my lunch…”  

Spike allowed his demon to show through, his forehead ridging momentarily and his fangs sharpening to lethal points.  He noted the man’s racing heart and the waves of fear flowing off him with satisfaction.  The git was an absolute sewer!  Just this once he may forget his ‘do no harm to humans’ rule.  And anyway, creepoid scarcely registered as a person in his book.  

Ethan Rayne swallowed, masking his panic with feigned amusement.  When he was through with this job for Weisswurst, he promised himself he’d take a little ‘me’ time and turn the arrogant – and yet admittedly suave – vampire to dust.  Just for fun, no profit.  That’d be a first….  

“What do you want, Rayne? And no sudden moves.”  

“I’d prefer to deal with the organ grinder, not his pet monkey…” his voice trailed off to a chuckle.  

G was making a great show of assembling some gadget of unknown genus, which he raised and pointed in Rayne’s direction.  Puzzled looks shot through the assembled agents and clerks alike as they eyed the…what looked remarkably like a dildo…that G held in his left hand.  Buffy’s eyes widened in alarm as she watched his grip tighten on the...balls…of the extremely phallic weapon that magically rose from a 45° angle to a perky 90° as G squeezed.  

“Well, well, Rupert, congratulations!” Ethan drawled.  “I see you finally got round to inventing that spermopositor you were always daydreaming about.  You won’t even need batteries by the look of it.  First rate.”  

“Enough!  This weapon has just scanned your body mass and is capable of melting your shirt or flaying every square inch of skin from your sorry body, and yet leave your heart still beating inside your crumbling skeleton -- so I’d be a little more respectful if I were you.  Where’s W?”  

G moved forwards, Blond stepping aside and circling round to stand the other side of the cocky Ethan Rayne.  Rayne eyed the two of them from beneath lowered eyelashes, every inch the cocky and assured villain, mouth curved into a smirk.  But Spike could sense the hidden fear, could hear his increased heart rate.  His demon bridled under the enforced bonds of his moral control, his features stuck somewhere in between totally human and totally vampire.  Slightly elongated fangs and eyes flashing from blue to gold were the only signs of his mutinous demon.  Buffy felt the pull of his struggle through the claim and quietly moved to take his hand, her fingers interlocking with his and giving him the strength to regain full control.  

He couldn’t stifle the growl as Rayne spoke.  

“Tut-tut, Rupert.  You’re slipping.  What happened to the star recruit, the straight A student who aced every assignment given to us poor unfortunates back in Fort Monkton ?  Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you win the Queen’s Prize for Solo Search and Retrieval three years on the trot?  Oh, how the mighty have fallen!”  

G gestured with the weapon he clasped in his hands and Rayne made a big show of ignoring him.  Blond’s snarl soon changed his mind, however, and he sauntered over to the chair indicated by his former colleague.  The vampire made quick work of tying him to the chair, lashing the bonds around his wrists and feet securely and maybe a little tighter than necessary.   

“Now, Rayne, I suggest you start talking.  Where is W?”  

“There’s no need to kill the messenger.  I am merely here to deliver greetings from the exalted Weisswurst on the occasion of his nuptials to W, Titian-haired Queen of His Hearts.  In deference to her inauspicious origins, I am authorised by the Great Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang to invite one of your number to the ceremony to take place the day after tomorrow.”  

Blond, G and Buffy exchanged glances.  An invitation to the wedding? This had to be a joke.  

“Rayne, am I to believe that your ‘lord and master’ is actually expecting us to join him in celebrating this charade of a marriage to W?  Is he insane?”  

“Well, yes…actually; I’d have thought that was obvious.  Rupert, I’m simply winged Mercury, sent to inform you that at 12 noon the day after tomorrow, a single lucky wedding guest will be collected from here and conveyed to join in the blessed ceremony.  Oh, and if you don’t release me, W won’t live to enjoy her perfect day.”  

Blond smiled as he spoke, his face mere inches from Rayne’s.  “Contrary to appearances, I’m sure you’re not quite stupid enough to think we can’t persuade you to talk.  You’d be surprised what we can achieve with a little helpful… encouragement!”  

“Rupert, old thing – don’t you have a muzzle for your Rottweiller?  He talks posh but this shirt doesn’t do well with slobber.  The reason why you won’t carry through on your charmingly phrased threat, vampire, is that if I don’t return within the hour, the delightful Ms W will meet an unhappy accident.  Capische, Slugger?”  

“Blond.  Leave him be.  We can’t afford to risk W.  Untie him.”  

Quashing his frustration, Spike undid the ropes holding Rayne to the chair and yanked him roughly to his feet.  The rip of the shirtsleeve as he did so enraged Ethan Rayne but went some way towards soothing the vampire’s demon.  Such a petty pleasure, but that shirt was just begging to be put out of its misery.  

Ethan inspected the damage and smoothed down his cuffs as he moved towards the door.  “I hope you don’t fight like this over the invite; I’m sure she’d be delighted to see any one of you on her special day.  Be seeing you.”  

And he was gone.   

There was shocked silence for a moment until the well-oiled machinery kicked in.  Soon, everyone was scurrying about to their allotted tasks. Buffy, G and Blond met up in the middle of the shop.  

“Well?  Why am I still standing here, G, and not tracking the fucking fashion-challenged dickhead who knows where W is?”  

“Well for one, Blond…see that big ball of blazing fire up there in the sky?  That might be a good enough reason, don’t you think?  And no amount of necro-tinted glass is going to help you if he goes places the car won’t.  And another; there’s no need.”  

“What?”  

Buffy and Spike Blond spoke at the same time, puzzled faces turned to G who smiled smugly.  

“Well, while you were flashing him the fang and tearing his ghastly shirt, I was actually listening to what he was saying.  Earlier I told you we were calibrating the sensors to search for a human female but we didn’t know where?  Well, now we do.  Or at least we know it’s no further than an hour away…”  

Spike Blond chuckled.  

“You sly old dog!  Was that what you were doing whilst I was being intimidating?  What have you found out?”  

“A moment.  Miss Chase!”  

“I’m here, the readout’s coming up.  Nice thinking, G.  With the time span known and the sensors already primed, the backroom boys have made fast work of it.  I’ll print it off now.”  

Tense seconds ticked away as the printer whirred.  Then they had it, the likely position of W.   

“The cheeky sod!  She’s practically right underneath us!  No more than an hour?  It’s not even ten minutes.  Right, I’m off – who’s with me?”  

“Hold on, 00666.  We have to be alert to the possibility that Rayne planned this all along and it’s a false trail.  Although he was never that sneaky in the Service, didn’t have the brainpower; still – best do an equipment check and call in backup.   I know you want to get going but you must be prepared.  Cordelia, get Harris to come in immediately – pull him off the job he’s on and replace him with Agent Whedon.  I’ll be in my lab.”  

Buffy and Spike watched the maelstrom of movement carrying on around them as they stood in the middle of the room, an island of seeming calm.  Buffy reached for her husband’s hand.  He was going into danger again; she wanted to go with him but she knew she’d be of more use here coordinating the hunt.  Cordelia Chase was certainly showing promise – despite Buffy’s original misgivings about the girl – but this was too important to entrust to anyone else.  So she’d have to watch him go out of the door again, not knowing when, or if, he would return.  

And then there was Tara .  She deserved to be kept abreast with developments; she must be going mad with worry.  It seemed that Spike’s thoughts were going the same way as his wife’s as he opened his mouth to speak.  

“Buffy… Tara …”  

“I know.  I’m sending a car for her; I want her to be here.  She needs to be with people who love her.  Don’t worry.  Now scoot!  Go see what goodies G has for you.”  

Spike cupped Buffy’s cheek, imprinting her face again on his memory as she rubbed against his palm.  Slowly he leaned in to capture her lips in a soft and tender kiss, whispering to her as he did so.  

“I’ll be back later, Mrs Blond…don’t undress without me….”  

With a final kiss to her forehead, he swept out of the shop and through to the back room.  

Cordelia watched the exchange between the two and sighed.  Yep, Spike Blond was definitely off the menu…time to turn her attention to other tasty morsels.  Locating Xander Harris’ file, she keyed in his pager number with a smile.  He’d do nicely.  

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  

An hour later they were all set.  Blond and Harris were decked out in black stealth gear including the latest in sensor-reflective technology.  Blond’s platinum hair was covered with the balaclava he had yet to draw down over his face, and looking at the identically clad figure of his brother spy, he decided he must look like a complete pillock.  

“We look like a couple of bleedin’ mime artistes, G!  Is this the best you can come up with?”  

“Trust me, Blond, once you’re completely covered, including the night vision visors, you’ll be able to rush through the caverns to W’s side without detection.  I’m really rather proud of the material.  You see it has a layer of heat reflective implants that are impervious to…”  

“I tell you what, G, save the dissertation for later.  I get it.  I’ll play.  What else do you have for us?”  

“Ah, well – the weapon I was threatening Rayne with earlier; it really is rather effective.  I fail to understand why everybody giggles when I get it out.  It’s very comfortable in the hand.  Try it.”  

Tentatively, Spike reached for the ‘gun’ held loosely in G’s grip.  Thankfully, despite its appearance it wasn’t the least flaccid but cool and metallic to the touch.  He squeezed the sac-like protuberance as he’d seen G do earlier and the muzzle of the gun leapt from 45° to the perky 90° that enabled it to fire.  

The chuckle from Harris had Blond almost dropping the thing.   

“What?”  

“Nothing, nothing.  Just seems to me it’s not the first time you’ve had your hand wrapped quite so intimately around a…”  

“Harris!  Well, you should know…..but my lips are sealed!”  00666 rolled his eyes and grinned at the one-eyed spy’s bewilderment as he was handed his own weapon.  

G shook his head, exasperated at the childish name-calling and pseudo flirting going on. “Any chance of the two of you growing up in the next ten minutes?  As interesting as your veiled allusions to your, I’m no doubt non-existent, shared sexual history is, there’s a job to do….”  

“Looks like we’re both bollocksed up!  Come on - let’s get to it.  You good to go?”  Xander grinned as he holstered his Penis-o-Pistol at his hip.  

“Yep; let’s head ‘em up and move ‘em out.  There’s a damsel to be rescued.”  

A final equipment check and the two spies slipped out the back door to the parking garage and the entrance to the sewers and caverns that comprised the underbelly of Sunnydale.   

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  

Cordelia was becoming exasperated.  Every time she tried to look at a readout, view a monitor, she felt Buffy hovering behind her.  It was disconcerting to say the least.  Hadn’t she trained just as much as the former Miss Summerpenny? She might be new at the job but she was just as qualified.  Eventually, she’d had enough.  

“Look, Buffy – I do know what I’m doing.  Can you just let me do my job?  And besides, the boys are off sensors, as you well know, because of the suits.  They’ll contact us when they can; but for now could you just back off?”  

Buffy was about to put her straight about a few things – then stopped.  The brunette was right.  She was doing everything by the book, faultless.  Buffy couldn’t have done anything differently.  But it was just hard, being left behind and unable to do anything.   

“Cordelia, I know.  I’m sorry.  It’s just…it’s W and my husband out there.  I have to be sure they get every backup they need.”  

“And they will. Trust me.  I’m not just a pretty face…”  

Buffy gave her the first genuine smile since they’d met.  Maybe she should get off her case; after all, wasn’t her fault she’d been attracted to her husband – hell, the girl would have to be comatose not to want him.  Not that she was about to relax around her; the leggy brunette had somewhat of a reputation as a man-eater.  In fact, she’d suit Harris to a tee…  

Right then, the bell over the front door tinkled heralding the arrival of Blond’s sister.  Buffy rushed to her side, hugging her and explaining exactly what was going on.  She settled her at the table and arranged for someone to bring her a mug of blood, then went to check on G.  Hopefully he’d be able to tell her exactly where her mate was right now.   

++++  

“Anything, G?”  

“Ah, Buffy…no, not yet.  I expect they’re just about at her position now so I’m not really expecting anything just yet.  I suppose it’s redundant to tell you to relax?”  

“Pretty much.”  

“Well then; could you pass me that probe?  I’m keeping myself busy….”  

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  

W bowed her head, panting for breath.  She’d spent hours screaming for somebody to come.  Her throat was raw and scratchy and she was desperate for a drink.  She’d tried threats, promising dire retribution when MI13 found them.  She’d resorted to the threat of Weisswurst’s anger when they discovered how poorly they’d treated his fiancée.  Hey, she’d use whatever she could; she was a strategist.  Nothing had brought a response, though, and she was seriously dehydrated now.  

She heard footsteps, raised her head hopeful of seeing a cool glass of water coming into view.   

“Oh.  It’s you.  Well, let me just say…” she croaked, “that your boss isn’t going to be happy.  ‘Everything dat you need’ he told me; well I need a fricking drink!”  

“Ah, dear W, where are my manners.  Of course, allow me.”  

With a flourish, Rayne poured water into a chipped glass and held it to her parched lips.  W gulped noisily, draining the entire glass and coughing when the cool water met her tortured throat.  

“Better?”  

She nodded the affirmative, closing her eyes but unable to halt the tear that slipped down her cheek.  How long had she been here?  Where was here?  Was she even in Sunnydale?  She thought she was, from what this slimeball had told her earlier.  But surely if she was, the cavalry would have come over the hill and rescued her before now.  She just didn’t know.  Time was all mixed up.   

Rayne prattled on but she blocked him out with thoughts of her icy maiden, visions of Tara, her soft smile and gentle manner soothing her as she was forced to listen to his whining.  Tara! God, what must she think – she’d have gone to the restaurant and thought she’d been stood up.  And she wouldn’t know what was going on…unless Blond…but why would he even think to…God!  She had to get out of here.  

“Ethan Rayne…is it?”  Her voice was still croaky.  “So…you know G?  You said you were at school with him?”  

“Ah yes – happy days.  Oh, he’s terribly worried for you by the by.  Was quite commanding earlier, I can see what you see in him.  His pet vampire however, how on earth does he get all the ladies in a lather?  A bit long in the tooth for my liking.”  

W’s heart started to race. He’d been to HQ; maybe they’d followed him, maybe her cavalry was just rounding the hill.  

“Oh, I imagine you’ll see him in a couple of days.  I extended the wedding invite to the group – just one representative – but I can’t see old Rupert giving up the chance to play the hero, even if it will be the most pitiful attempt ever.  He may even try a Mrs Robinson trick at the back of the church…except we won’t be in a church.  Oh, the dramatic possibilities are endless!  I may sell the rights to Hollywood!”  

W lowered her head again.  Another insane jailer. Why do villains always play to type?  Was there an unwritten rule?  Still, if he was true to form, he was about to set out the entire plan so that when the cavalry drew to a halt and dismounted she’d be able to fill them in.  She obviously needed to do some ‘helpless maiden fearful of her life’ prompting.  It wouldn’t really be a stretch in her position.  

“Where will the wedding take place?  If I’m about to experience a girl’s happiest day, surely I should know about the ceremony.”  

“Well, won’t do any harm I suppose.  Actually, you’re in for a treat – you’re off to Austria – Weisswurst’s hometown, Salzburg.  Very scenic city – all trees, mountain peaks, and yodelling.  His family’s sacrificial altar has been lying ready for this blessed day for decades.  He has quite the following there, you know.  In fact, thanks for reminding me…it’s about time you were on your way.  From the smell of you it’s going to take quite some prettifying to get you ready to walk down the aisle.”  

W’s horrified eyes registered his clicking fingers as he summoned four demons to let her down from the manacles and bundle her off through the caves.  Her mind screamed ‘nooooooooooooo’ as she realised that even if Rayne had been tracked, by the time the posse got there she’d be long gone…  

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  

Blond and Harris emerged from the cavern they’d crawled through just in time to hear Rayne’s words echo off the stone walls.  By the time they’d scrambled through the maze of linking passages and into the opening, all that remained was a set of swinging manacles and the stale smell of captivity.   

Blond snarled; “Fuck!!! We have to follow them; move your arse, Harris!”  

The one-eyed agent leant against the rough cavern wall and lit up a cigar.  Taking a deep drag he chuckled.  

“Hey, Blondster – no worries.  Looks like we’re taking another trip to Austria.  You got a tux or you need a rental?”  

 

*cut to*  

Spike Blond standing in the middle of the room, arms outstretched as female hands fiddle with his collar, his cuffs.  His bow tie is adjusted from behind.  A strangled cry emerges from his throat.  

“Bloody hell, Buffy!”  

A slurp.  “Sorry honey; but you were spoiling the line of the trousers……I had to get you nicely positioned now……didn’t I?”  

DOO . DOO . DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO; DOO . DOO . DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO; DOO . TE. DOOOO

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