You Only Unlive Twice

by Spikesdeb

Chapter 4

Spike jumped when the bathroom door opened and he was suddenly faced with wet Buffy body enveloped in a white fluffy towel.  ‘That’s all I need!’ he groaned to himself as he tried to drag his eyes from the delicious buttocks revealed by the low dipping towel as she padded across to the dresser.  Feeling the old sap rising again, against all rules of man and nature, he covered his eyes with both hands, desperate to block out temptation.  Bugger!  He had to get out of here before W sent the Snatch Squad to take him in. 

Buffy looked over her shoulder as she heard him draw in a sharp breath.   Damn.  He was on to her and wasn’t watching.  Still, she felt a warm glow as she realised that if it weren’t for the mission, he’d have had her upside down and halfway to happy land.  Resigned to the fact that he had to leave and not wanting to make it any harder for him, she quickly dressed in casual slacks and a silky shirt and swept her long hair up into a messy topknot.  Slipping on a pair of mules, she grabbed her purse and headed towards him.   

“Hey, Agent 00666 – duty calls.”  He was still tightly covering his eyes with his hands so she gently moved them and planted a soft kiss on his lips.   

William blinked and pressed his lips against hers more forcefully before cupping her face in his hands and drawing back, mapping her features inch by inch to stash away in his memory. 

Sighing heavily, he placed a last kiss on her forehead and said “Okay, luv.  Take me to your leader.” 

Chuckling, Buffy grabbed his hand and led him out of the room and the apartment block to the underground garage. 

***************************** 

All business-like now, Buffy entered HQ through the Magic Box entrance.  William had driven his Aston Martin around back and to the basement parking area.  Stashing her purse behind the counter, Buffy called up the Mission Allocation Team itinerary from the central database.  Skimming the timings with a critical eye, she shrugged.  Okay, they’d done a good job in her absence; she could simply approve it.  She had been hoping to find fault and thereby delay any departure, but she was kidding herself. And anyway, what had she been thinking?  She was a professional, part of a professional outfit, and she would never allow emotion to affect her performance.  

Grabbing the printout, she swept up the false ID papers and passport and went through to meet William in W’s office. 

W was winding up her briefing as Buffy entered the room, the redhead going through the latest report from London HQ regarding the evil mastermind behind the baby demon plot.  William was briskly efficient; his icy demeanour professional and serious as he took the proffered travel documents from Buffy’s outstretched hand with a murmured “Thank you, Summerpenny.”  Despite her resolve, his distance and detachment from her, necessary as it was, reminded her of how it used to be between them… before the Bronze.  As they left the room, W and William in front, Buffy trailed behind in an attempt to settle her emotions.  She watched his broad shoulders and his angular profile as he continued receiving instructions from the lady in charge.  A jolt of electricity fizzled between them as he looked over his shoulder and winked. 

G had already assembled the special kit the spy would need and stashed it aboard the company ‘plane that would ferry William and Faith Layer to the deadly island paradise.  W, William and Buffy climbed aboard the dark-windowed limousine that was to take them to the airfield, William sat across from W with Buffy to his right.  As soon as they were moving, W opened the drinks cabinet and poured a couple of stiff scotches for her and William.  Buffy declined, citing the early morning.   

All too soon, they were there, the jet fuelled and on the runway just outside the hangar in which the limousine parked.  W slid out of her seat and out of the car leaving Buffy and William inside.  Buffy watched her through the open door as she made her way across the concrete floor towards a dark-haired woman who could only be Faith Layer.  Buffy hated her on sight, and drew in a calming breath before turning to William and whispering “Good luck.” 

William closed his eyes.  Where had the mission buzz gone?  He usually relished the moment of departure, but now… God, he did not want to do this!  Steeling himself and gritting his teeth, he readied himself to go.  Turning to Buffy, his eyes clouded with pain, he gently stroked her cheek smiling as she leaned into his caress.   

“I don’t need luck, Buffy, I just need to know that you’re waiting for me.  Take care, kitten. I’ll be back before you know it.” 

And with a lingering aroma of expensive cologne, he was gone. 

******************************* 

Boarding the ‘plane under cover of the canopied walkway that had been set up to shield him from the early morning sun, Spike Blond slipped into mission mode.  William was submerged, wrapped in memories of a warm, golden body and hazel-green eyes locked with his own.  The spy was in the driving seat now. 

W was ahead of him, updating Faith Layer with the same information he had been privy to earlier.  He caught the tail end of the conversation as he sought his seat. 

“…..and obviously we’ll be monitoring carefully, Faith.  But you really couldn’t wish for a better partner to introduce you to fieldwork.  He’s extremely capable.” 

“I’ll bet!” Faith drawled, leaning around W to flick her deep brown eyes along the suddenly tense body of the vampire. 

W looked behind her and noticed the stricken attitude of her best agent.  Maybe he’d met his match.  She was unsure about the relationship her right-hand woman had with this creature.  His reputation was that of a lady-killer, sometimes literally, but he was an excellent spy.  He was also rather humanitarian by nature, despite appearances to the contrary.  And W had it on good authority from his sister Tara, with whom she’d been spending an increasing amount of time, that her brother William was kind to babies, puppies and kittens.  Visions of 00666 donning fireman garb - bare-chested of course, complete with braces, natty helmet and handy chopper – and reaching up to rescue a fluffy Persian from a tree, flooded her mind.  So much for early morning pick-me-ups.  Blinking furiously, W turned to face Blond and breathlessly launched into a speech about queen, country and honour. 

Blond wasn’t fooled.  W’s blood was pooling in her cheeks in a becoming blush; he hadn’t lost his touch.  He smirked his trademark smirk and for full measure tilted his head to the most effective degree and lifted his left eyebrow.     

Finding herself lost for words, W gathered up her remaining documents and wished the new Mr and Mrs Lucrada bon voyage! 

********************************* 

Buffy didn’t look up as W slid into the rear of the limousine.  She pretended to be fascinated by the mission parameters but as the file was both upside down and smudged with her tears, it wasn’t a very convincing ploy.   

The limousine pulled away smoothly, leaving the hangar and running alongside the coasting jet for a short time before bearing left and out of the airfield.  Buffy looked up and out of the rear window as the ‘plane took off, watching until the dot of it disappeared into the distance.  W was observing her silently, swishing the remaining scotch around the bottom of the glass before swallowing it down and reaching for a cheroot. 

Buffy looked up finally and donning her best efficient face, closed the file on her knee and faced W.  Going for an attitude of complete indifference, she calmly asked W what arrangements had been made for emergency retrieval as they hadn’t been filed on the computer when she checked earlier. 

“There’s no contingency plan, Summerpenny.  Blond’s on his own now, there’s no other way in.  If he fails, well, we call another ‘00’.  You know how it is with that status, you’ve read the briefings – one alone in all the world is chosen, blah, blah, blah.” 

W stared at Buffy as she delivered the deathblow, impassive to the terror and dread lurking beneath the PA’s calm mask.  Yes indeed, Buffy certainly did know how it was.  It was killing her. 

*********************************** 

‘Jeez, what’s up with Joe Cool?’  Faith could feel the waves of unease radiating off the vampire.  She twitched her lips into a feral snarl; she had a cure for all kinds of …tension. 

Clocking him out of the corner of her half-closed eyes, the brunette arched back into the seat and stretched her arms above her head to display her breasts to their best advantage.  The Celtic tattoo she bore on her right arm matched the clothing she was wearing at present.  She’d been issued with an entire “good wife” wardrobe but was putting off donning any of that shit until there was no other choice.  So what she had on was her own.  Trailer trash at its trashiest.  The leather trousers clung to her like a second skin and there was no panty line because, hey, no panties.  She wore a tank top with string straps, black of course, overlaid with a mesh shirt.  Peeping out from beneath the tank top was a black lace bra quite obviously designed to titillate, rather than to support its contents.  To add to the finished whore effect, the left strap of her bra had crept from beneath her top and rested like a slug across her bicep.  Classy.  Not. 

Spike had noticed the display of course.  The contrast with his golden goddess couldn’t have been more obvious.  Night and day – Buffy was the morning dew, soft and sweet; Faith was the darkest storm, dangerous and raw.  The demon in him saw a kindred spirit; the man was repulsed.  Both of them ignored her as she continued to use all the weapons in her arsenal to seduce him.  The demon wasn’t exactly happy to be reined in. 

As the flight went on, Spike realised he was going to have to rehearse the undercover role with Layer so that their stories meshed.  He’d been lying prone in the plush reclining seat across the aisle from the brunette, scanning the documentation in the field pack.  There was a large-scale layout of the island, the key indicating what was known about the buildings comprising the complex.  There was an enormous octagonal single storey structure labelled ‘Lab/Secret Hideout’.  Blond chuckled – G was so anally retentive; must be a Virgo!  Only G would actually label a map with ‘Secret Hideout’.  Shaking his head, Blond perused the plan further.  Set away from the main complex were a number of small hut-like erections; no doubt that was where the actual ‘erecting’ took place.  Looking further through the pack he found a detailed description of the interiors of the huts.  As he read on he groaned to himself. 

This was already a difficult mission for him and it was just getting worse.  The description of the rooms in the love-shacks used words such as “bordello-like”, “boudoir”, “decked out with all manner of instruments designed to enhance sexual arousal and increase pleasure.”  He was going to hell!  He glanced across to the sloe-eyed wannabe spy to his right.  She was dipping through the info too.  She was probably on the same page: yep, definitely.  The lascivious grin snaking across her lips and her moist, pink tongue gave it away.    Here we go – Faith the would-be vampire Layer at full throttle. 

He tensed as she shifted in her seat and turned to face him.  He couldn’t look away as she leant forwards, eyes locked on his, her cleavage so pronounced you could hide a gun in there.  As she tossed her dark hair over one shoulder in a move calculated to arouse him, thankfully she dipped her eyelids and gave him the opportunity to scurry away.   

“Big Bad huh?” she whispered to herself, lips curving slightly as she settled down to review the mission plan further.   

********************************** 

Spike was holed up in the well-appointed bathroom to the rear of the jet.  No ordinary ‘plane this, obviously.  Equipped with all the latest radar, sonar and stealth technology it also boasted a natty line in vampire sensitive reflective surfaces.  G had been busy!  Studying his image in the mirror, he critically assessed his appearance – he wasn’t half-bad, he decided.  Resting his forehead against the mirror as he recalled what had made him run like a girl to the haven of the restroom, he began to slowly head butt the shiny surface. 

*********************************** 

Faith studiously ignored him as he returned.  Instead of taking his own seat he proceeded to the lounge area where there was a circular table surrounded by six deep-filled swivel chairs.  He spread the mission file across the surface and split it into personal information, mission objectives, gadget specifications and photographs.  When he had them arranged to his liking he cleared his throat and steeling his resolve said,” Miss Layer, could I have the pleasure of your company?” 

Shimmying around the corner, having removed the mesh top and renewed her lipstick, the seductress slid into the seat opposite him and leaned her head on her hands, her elbows resting on the table.   

“Always a pleasure, Blond,” she drawled, “Let’s get cracking.  Isn’t that what you English guys say?” 

Spike gritted his teeth.  This was going to be a long flight.

NEXT

REVIEW ME!!