by Spikesdeb
Chapter 6
The crackle from the loudspeaker drew a
crowd of eager listeners. Many of
them shook their heads as the familiar one-upmanship of the service’s two top
spies bristled along the airwaves.
“No – I’ll do it, Harris.
Move out of the way.”
“But I’ve already got it…leave
go!”
There was an obvious tussle, the sound
of slaps and what could have been a kick to a shin resulting in a ‘bastard!’
Then a British voice…
“G?
This is 00666 and 0013 reporting in.
We found…”
The whoops of the gathered audience
drowned out Blond’s next words. G
frantically shushed the room, joined by Buffy Blond and her very vampiric
sounding growl.
That got the desired result, not to
mention shocked faces.
“Do you copy, G?
Are you there?”
“I’m here, Blond; is she alright?”
A beat.
“Gimme it… you’re taking forever.
Harris here, G, she’s gone.”
A collective indrawn breath.
“Gone…you don’t mean…”
“Nice one, you tosser!
Sorry about that, G, no…not gone as in ceased to be…just as in
been moved, and recently by the looks of things.
This will be easier if we come in and report.
We’ll be there in 45 minutes -- got some housekeeping to take care of
first, we could both do with a bit of a workout.”
“Understood.
Have that.”
The transmission ended, static zinging
through the room. G reached for the
switch and flicked it off.
Buffy Blond let go the breath she
didn’t know she’d been holding as she realised she’d see her husband in
less than an hour. She could imagine
what the ‘housekeeping’ actually meant; whatever Blond and Harris were
doing, she doubted that either would be in pristine condition when they
returned. More like covered in demon
gunk and other unmentionables. It
didn’t matter, just as long as they came home.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Spike Blond slipped the slim, black
pen/transmitter into the concealed pocket of his stealth suit.
Got to give it to G, he had a nifty line in dual-purpose gadgets.
Speaking of…
“So, Harris. You think you’ve got a
handle on these things?” Blond had
taken out the embarrassingly phallic weapon and was weighing it in his hand.
“Well, by the way you’re feeling it
up, it’s gonna shoot its load any second, pal.
Kindly stroke your spermatrator somewhere other than in my direction.”
Spike quirked his eyebrow, “Know a lot
about things going off prematurely, do you?”
“What can I say, Bleach boy.
Just doing my best to perform up to your standards – don’t you know
you’ve always been my Yoda?”
“Touché, 0013!
Come on, grab your pocket rocket in those clammy hands of yours and
we’ll go take us out some demons. May
as well salt the earth before we get back to HQ.”
With a jaunty whistle the two spies
moved through the caverns, confident that if there were any of Weisswurst’s
minions not yet departed for the grisly matrimonial celebrations, they’d soon
be in need of a shroud, not a wedding outfit.
It was great to be a good guy.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The Magic Box had never been busier.
Blond and Harris were due any second and the assembled agents and other
officers were milling about trying to look like customers.
The fact that usually there would only be Buffy, in her former guise of
Miss Summerpenny, or lately Cordelia Chase manning the whole shop façade
didn’t stop the rest of them from cruising the shelves or suddenly finding an
abstract fertility statuette absolutely riveting.
Buffy rolled her eyes. But
she couldn’t blame them. This was
too important; W’s safety was at stake. The
jangle of the bell over the door drew everybody’s gaze.
Harris strolled in, hair mussed and face
splattered with green goo. He was
smoking a cigarillo with studied ease, looking every inch the suave spy as the
smoke curled up in front of his velvet eye patch.
Cordelia sashayed to his side placing a manicured hand on his shoulder.
“Agent Harris,” she murmured
breathily, “It’s good to have you back.
I need to take you through to the back for immediate…debriefing.” A
world of meaning sparked between them. And
wasn’t there just a little too much stress on the ‘have you’?
Buffy looked anxiously towards the door.
Agent 0013 noted her line of sight and shrugged off the crimson painted
talons of the delectable Miss Chase to move towards her.
He didn’t notice the brunette’s moue of disappointment as he left her
side.
“He’s here, Buffster – just came
via the less flammable route,” he indicated with a nod to the back door.
Buffy turned to look just as a vision in black Lycra burst through,
sapphire blue eyes searching out one thing.
Her.
She rushed to envelop him in her arms,
kissing him before he could speak. She
was definitely making the leap to active agent after this; she couldn’t stand
the tension of separation. And Chase
was well qualified to keep the home fires burning.
Reluctantly abandoning his lips to drag in much needed air, Buffy gazed
at her husband’s face checking for wounds.
He seemed intact, a small jagged cut just behind one ear and the
beginnings of a black eye. They’d heal in no time with his vampire
constitution. The rumble of his
laughter stilled her hands as she was bending his head to check his scalp.
“What?”
“’s nothing; it’s just – feel
like a soddin’ chimp being groomed, love.”
She gave him an affectionate tap on the
head then turned back to the room and the eager faces all trying to look
disinterested but failing miserably. “You’d
better deliver your report before we have a revolt.”
Blond snapped into info-mode, striding
to the counter and hopping up. Buffy
couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips as he crossed one leg over the
other thigh, stretching the Lycra material deliciously tight.
He met her eyes and winked, curling his tongue suggestively. God was he
going to be seriously ravished later, maybe sooner!
“Listen up, troops.
We got to the caverns and could hear words between W and that ponce Ethan
Rayne, but it’s a bloody labyrinth in there and by the time we reached the
location, they’d gone. At that
point we reported in to you lot, then had a bit of fun pummelling demons.
Not much of a workout actually, miserable excuses for evil.
Makes me ashamed to call ‘em second cousins twice removed.”
“Blond…more detail, less lateral
thinking.”
“Sorry, G.
Yeah, right. So…from what
we could hear of the charming Mr Rayne, it would seem W has been whisked off to
Austria - Salzburg to be exact. Apparently
Mr Kiss Kiss has a special chapel all set aside just waiting for a blushing
bride. Enough to make you heave,
isn’t it? Our W with that git’s
warty fingers… filthy swine. So
it’s skis and slivovitz all round, G?”
“Very droll.
But yes, I suppose we should make plans to head out.
One of us has a legitimate invitation, and Rayne said they’d be coming
by to collect the lucky blighter; that’d be me, by the way.
We can track from that. I’ll
go along and pretend to play and meanwhile we’ll already have agents in place
in Austria waiting for the optimum moment. Right
then, Blond, Harris – select our best men for the advance team.
We’ve a wedding to get to. Buffy,
you’ll coordinate things with Chase from here.
We’ll need the jet, maybe the heli too…stealth gear, snow wear, full
range of radio equipment. I’ll
take care of the weaponry.”
“No.”
“We’ll meet up in three hours to
finalise the…I beg your pardon?”
“I said no.
I’m coming with you.”
“Buffy…” Spike Blond interrupted.
“Listen, I’ve been in the jungle,
I’ve fought against a skanky double-crossing ho, I’ve been bitten
and…other things…all in the line of duty.
I know I’m ready to hold my own in the field and I’m not staying here
while you lot swan off and have fun. I’m
coming with. End of discussion.”
“Sure it’s just your own you want to
hold, pet?”
“Spike!
Focus! You know I’m right.
I’ve got all the certificates I’ll ever need, more than some of the
agents already active. I just need
to clock field time. G – back me
up, you’ve seen my moves.”
“Better not have,” Spike
mock-growled.
“Yes.
Ahem. Well, I suppose…if
London okays it, Buffy, I’ll sanction it in W’s absence.
But strictly in a supporting role, mind, no reckless jumping right into
the fray.”
“Trust me, G.
I’ll be good as gold.”
What on earth had he agreed to…
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Later, once mission dockets had been
sent to all active agents and stealthsuits had been stripped off and sent to
forensics to check on the demons’ origins, Spike and Buffy Blond found time to
share a moment. Spike
had ducked into W’s empty room and pulled his wife after him, the unexpected
tug on her hand sending her off balance and tumbling against his sculpted chest.
Heaven. She inhaled his
unique scent and closed her eyes. How
had she lived before having this in her life?
How had she managed to get out of bed when the closest she got to him was
a brief touch of his hand as he took documents from her?
She shivered as she realised how close she came to losing him every time
he stepped out of HQ and into his 00666 role. Well, never again.
“Buffy.
I’m not sure it’s a good thing you coming to Austria.
I know, you’ve been on missions – we’ve been on missions –
but this is a particularly nasty set-up. I’ll
have enough on my hands keeping Harris in check and G from diving in headfirst.
If I have to take care of you too, I may leave myself open.”
The temperature of the room seemed to
have dropped, enough to cause the vamp to shiver.
Buffy took a step back. ‘Way
to go, mate. Just broke the number
one rule – don’t treat the little woman like a little woman.’
He tried a tentative smile that froze at
the look in her eyes. Whatever he
said now would mean the difference between hot loving and cold-shouldering.
Oh bugger!
“WHAT!!
You’ll take care of –” In a flash he closed the distance between
them and stopped the tirade about to burst from her lips in the best way he knew
how. Buffy beat on his chest
to get him to let go of his grip on her shoulders, but gradually the fists
flattened out to become caressing palms and he couldn’t help the smile that
came to his lips. He still had it…
So it came as a surprise when his petite
wife shoved him with such force that he bounced back into the wall, and was
about to whimper at the loss of contact with her lips and pert breasts.
She was on him in a second, thrusting one leg in between his and grinding
her groin against his thigh as she attacked his mouth with sharp teeth and hot
tongue. Buffy kept nipping at his
lips, not allowing him to gain full contact in the kiss and it was driving him
insane. A strangled growl burst from
his throat as he fought the urge to dominate her.
Demons didn’t play well with teasing, being more of the “WANT.
TAKE. HAVE.” mentality and he was going crazy from not being in control!
Thankfully, just when his fangs
threatened to spring out and leave her with a pierced tongue – which if rumour
was correct was a whole new sensation for the lucky lickee – she relented and
pressed her lips fully to his. Soft
flesh moulded in familiar ways, Buffy’s hands snaking up around Spike’s neck
to pull him deeper into the kiss. Oh
he liked this; judging by the throbbing erection digging into the soft flesh of
her abdomen he liked it a lot. She
still had it…
Buffy broke away to drag in air and he
seized his chance while she was gasping. She
squealed in shock when she suddenly found herself effortlessly tossed over his
shoulder and being carried over to W’s highly polished desk.
She heard a clatter and out of the corner of her eye saw Spike’s arm
sweep papers and pens onto the floor. Unceremoniously
deposited onto the surface, she had little time to wriggle away from the sharp
edge of the intercom before her skirt was shoved up and cool fingers were
drawing her panties to one side. She
gasped at the touch he shivered across her clit, her back arching and allowing
him the opportunity to settle between her legs.
Buffy’s panting warred with the rasp of Spike’s zipper, her moan of
pleasure as he pushed slowly into her tight pussy building as he started to rock
against her. Her legs came up to
wrap around him and keep him captive. This
was way better than arguing…
In moments she was at fever pitch,
little whimpers, whispered names and endearments leaving her lips.
Spike felt her flutter and ripple around his thickened cock and he moved
faster, harder, the desk drawers rattling as he pounded her across its surface,
her fingers gripping the edge to stop herself sliding away from him.
Her climax ambushed her suddenly, her internal muscles wringing him
almost painfully and sending him ecstasy bound with her with a roar of
completion. Bloody hell, she was
spectacular.
Sometimes fast and furious was so good.
Like when you were celebrating the safe return of your danger-loving
husband. Or when you wanted to
distract your pissed-off wife.
Having regained her breath and smoothed
down her clothing, Buffy sat on the edge of W’s desk, her legs swinging as she
swept her eyes appreciatively over the sight of Spike Blond tucking himself back
into his designer trousers with a well-pleased smirk plastered on his face.
She knew what he’d done, how he’d decided to distract her from her
anger at being dismissed as a weak and feeble woman who needed protection.
But right now, their mingled spendings slowly trickling down her thighs
and in the afterglow of a bone-melting orgasm…she couldn’t care less.
“William…Spike.
I’m coming with you.”
He turned to face her, hands smoothing
back his platinum curls. His blue
eyes were clouded with the emotions he was feeling; worry, concern, pride that
she’d want to throw herself into the fight, satisfaction at their heated
coupling – but most of all love.
“I know, love -- just don’t want
anything to happen to you.”
“Well then, you know how I feel!
So no more of that pathetic ‘little lady’ stuff?
You’ll give me the proper respect that my years of training and
blindingly quick brain deserve?”
Spike laughed and shook his head.
What on earth had he done without this woman at his side?
He strolled towards her, bending down as he reached the desk with his
arms either side of her. Lips inches
from hers he spoke.
“You have my respect, my admiration,
but most of all – my heart and my love. Always,
Buffy. Always.”
A soft kiss.
A change of gear. Now they
were back to Superspy and protégée, all business as they left the devastation
behind them and headed back to the shop floor.
G was a very deep shade of pink,
‘aheming’ and quite unable to meet the couple’s eyes.
Furtive glances from the other occupants of the Magic Box had them
puzzled.
“Is it my imagination, or are we being
given strange looks?”
“Seems like, pet.
God knows why.”
The buzz of noise and the muttered
curses that crackled out of the speaker system as somebody had entered and noted
the devastation in W’s room connected the dots in both their brains at the
same time.
“Oh my god! The intercom!
I must have knocked it when we…”
Xander Harris couldn’t contain his
laughter any longer. “Oh man, you
two are unbelievable, you sure know how to seize a moment.
And can I say, the acoustics in W’s office have been very
underrated.”
Squealing with embarrassment, Buffy
escaped to the ladies room to recover her equilibrium.
Spike Blond simply basked in the testosterone envy hitting him from every
XY chromosome set in the room.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
W could hear people moving around her,
but the thick blindfold that Ethan Rayne had tied far more tightly than was
necessary prevented her seeing anything. Her
head ached from the pressure of the cloth and her eyes had long since done the
white spots thing. She’d been
unceremoniously unshackled from the wall just as she’d dared to hope rescue
was on the horizon, and bundled into a blacked-out car.
As it sped away, Rayne sadistically tied the blindfold and whispered in
her ear to cheer up and think about the happy prospect that the next sight
she’d see would be her bridegroom in all his splendour.
Her sarcastic retort was cut off by a gag, which was tied with the same
consideration as the blindfold had been.
Soon she’d been airborne in what she assumed was a plush private jet
– certainly there’d been plenty of popping champagne corks and hideous
laughter -- and she doubted even the residents of Sunnydale would allow a bound
and gagged woman to be taken kicking and screaming onto a regular flight.
And now she was here in Salzburg, and
about to be married to the revolting bag of pus known as Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang.
Tears slid unheeded down her face from
beneath the blindfold. Rayne had
delighted in enlightening her on the finer details as they travelled, relishing
her horror as she realised the full extent of the depraved fate that awaited
her. Weisswurst planned to
impregnate her there and then as part of the wedding ceremony, the tradition of
his people apparently, and it would do her no good praying that she wouldn’t
conceive. Once the insane demon was
in rut, he was a relentless performer – no matter how long it took.
Couple that with the pheromones he released and she’d be rendered
helpless - a sick spectacle at the centre of her own waking nightmare.
The worst thing was that once she’d been exposed to the love scents,
she’d lose all control and become an eager participant begging for his corrupt
seed. W shuddered.
What she wouldn’t give for a daring Spike Blond rescue round about now.
Allowing her mind to wander, making up one rescue scenario after the
other, she settled back against the stinking mattress upon which she’d been
laid and waited helplessly for her fate to be sealed.
*CUT TO : …champagne flutes,
confetti, two bands of gold. An
invitation with gold edge beneath the glasses declares that we are “Cordially
invited…” The
whole idyllic setting is spattered with green goo and ruby red blood, sounds of
battle in the background the soundtrack to the wedding feast.
“Well, honey…got to hand it to Weisswurst – he certainly knows how
to throw a party. Mind if I have
this?” A strangled cry.
“Well – you did say I could hold my own…and this is my own, isn’t
it, Spike?” “You could at least
have washed your hands…”
DOO . DOO. DOOOOOOOOOOO . DOO . DOO . DOOOOOOOOOO. DOO . TE . DOOOOO