You Only Unlive Twice
by Spikesdeb
Chapter 5
Buffy
watched the dot of the aircraft slowly arcing across world map on the large
screen display, tracked as it was by HQ. All
senior staff gathered in the briefing room to await its arrival at Hornshaft
Atoll. It was crucial that Spike
and Faith clear the first hurdle when they reached their destination.
Faith Layer had the requisite pulse, circulation and body temperature;
Spike Blond, of course, did not.
What
he did have, however, courtesy of G and his band of super-scientists, was enough
technology to fool most scanners and certainly sufficient to pass cursory
inspections. Spike sported an
implant next to his non-beating heart that thumped out a steady rhythm,
mimicking the pulse of a healthy young man.
Should he be scanned to any depth, a second implant would kick in to
induce artificial circulation by stimulating his heart muscles to pump the blood
around his body. Before leaving for
the airfield, he’d been coated head to foot in a micro layer of exothermic
material that would register as normal body temperature; the breathing, he would
take care of himself. Unlike most
vampires, he already breathed almost constantly in an unconscious imitation of
his living self. But then he was
nothing like most vampires. He also
had a liking for proper food, spicy and sweet being particular favourites, as
Buffy had found out during their initial days together.
Serve him up a blooming onion followed by hot chocolate and marshmallows
and he was putty in her hands. ‘Not
that I need food for that,’ she thought fondly.
Buffy
had read through the medical notes many, many times.
It made her feel closer to him somehow.
Panic began to rise in her again as the jet continued its journey.
Every minute that ticked by took him further away from her, and the
bite-mark on her neck ached more as the distance increased.
Buffy absentmindedly kept rubbing at the mark drawing W’s attention to
her reddened flesh.
“Summerpenny?
Is there a problem?”
“What?
Where?” Buffy flicked her
eyes to the screen display, pulse racing and sweat breaking out on her brow.
Seeing nothing wrong, she turned to look back at W.
W
gestured with her right hand, cheroot dangling languidly, causing Buffy to blush
and hang her head. But then she
recovered herself. What was she
ashamed of – it was her wedding band to all intents and purposes and she
wasn’t going to hide it.
Bringing
her head up to meet and hold W’s gaze with her own suddenly stormy hazel eyes
she simply said, “I can feel him. We’re
mated. He’s going further and
further from me and it aches.”
“Interesting.”
W stated. “Can you tell where he
is, what he’s doing?” Ever the
efficient mission master, W wanted to know if it could be used to their
advantage.
“I
can’t tell exactly; I just know that the greater the distance is, the more it
tingles. I can sense his general
mood but not specifics. Right now,
I sense that he’s agitated, tense. But
I can’t tell why.”
‘I
can guess though. Slut.’ Buffy
thought.
“Hmmm.
I’ll bear that information in mind, Summerpenny.”
Returning
her attention to the screen, W filed the snippet away for future consideration.
Things
with William’s sister were moving along nicely.
There’d been a kissing incident which took them both by surprise and
since then the shy vampire had been making puppy eyes at her.
Perhaps she could suggest a nibble or two to notch things up a
level…….
********************************************
Spike
Blond was on his last reserves of patience.
He was able to ignore the increasingly overt invitations coming his way
from the dark-haired temptress but his inner battle to keep his demon tethered
was another matter. She was
everything his dark side craved; aggressive, amoral, reckless, and sexually
wanton. He closed his eyes to
regain control of the devil inside him.
“Ok,
Layer. Once more, from the top.
What’s my name?”
“William
Lucrada. Born 20 August 1971 in
Chelsea, England. Mother and father
deceased – car crash when you were 19. You
inherited their estate and that gave you enough money to put yourself through
university where you took English, History and the Classics.
And could I be more bored?”
“We
need to get this right! Listen,
Faith. I’ve been doing the spy
thing since before you were born. If
you want to be a ‘00’ – then you need to survive your first mission.
Unfortunately for you, there’s more to it than flashing your cleavage.
So you can cut the nympho attitude, okay?
Get the basics right and the rest will follow.
Preparation is the key.”
“Man!
You sound like my boss back in Research. Wet
Wimpo Wesley Wyndham-Price. ‘Make
sure you lay the groundwork, Faith. Ensure
that every ‘i’ is dotted and every ‘t’ is crossed, Faith.
Three words to remember for a successful outcome, Faith – preparation,
preparation, preparation. Bla bla bla’ Loser!”
Spike
gritted his teeth. “I happen to
know Wesley and he is not a wimp. He’s
clocked more field time than many double-0s and what he doesn’t know about
research could be written on the back of a postage stamp.
You’d do well to follow his advice.”
“Continue,”
he growled at her.
Rolling
her eyes and swinging her feet up to rest on the table, she grabbed her notes
and carried on.
“We
met when you came into the library where I work to research background material
for your latest novel.”
“When
did we meet, Faith. Specifics,
remember.”
Shaking
her head she continued with the fake past.
“May 14, 1994. You asked
me out two weeks later, having come into the library every day to check me out.
Sorry, to check books out.” She
grinned at him from beneath hooded eyes and licked her lips.
“Just
couldn’t resist me could you?” she drawled huskily as she slid her boots off
the table and leant forwards, her breasts resting on the surface as she lifted
her ass from the seat to curl her legs up beneath her.
She
laughed out loud as his stony glare rested on her, his ice-blue eyes glinting
with fury.
“Guess
the magic’s gone now, honey – how on earth are we going to recapture those
heady days?”
So
saying, she ran her hand down her neck to brush lightly over the peak of one
nipple, darting her pointed tongue out to sweep her lips as she did so.
One way or another, she was having his undead booty before she threw him
to the wolves. If he continued to
spurn her advances, well – there were other ways.
Spike
laid his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes.
Sighing heavily, he looked up and narrowly stopped himself from slapping
the smug grin from the face of the woman he was rapidly coming to regard as the
biggest pain in the arse he’d ever met. And
what genius had assigned her to this mission?
Raising
his eyebrow he snarled at her, “Faith!”
“Ok,
ok – keep your pants on…………….for now.”
Standing
up she stretched like a cat and made her way around the table to lean over him,
one hand on the back of his chair, the other flicking the pages in front of him.
Looking to his left he was faced with her ample cleavage just a
tongue’s span away, her nipples hard and proud through her skimpy top.
Gaaaah! The things he did
for the safety of puppies, kittens and Christmas.
When
she blew softly in his ear he’d had enough.
Standing abruptly and kicking the chair backwards he grabbed her by both
wrists and pulled her tight against his body.
“THIS. STOPS.
NOW.” he hissed, his eyes flashing yellow and the force of his exhaled
breath moving her hair.
Faith
just chuckled softly. “Oh, baby.
Wanna play rough?”
“Oddly
enough, I’d prefer not touch you at all.” Disgusted, Spike shoved her away
so hard she landed on her butt, looking up at him and laughing maniacally.
He stalked away, heading once again for the bathroom.
Her laughter followed him, setting his teeth on edge.
Splashing
his face with cold water to cool his temper, Spike considered the situation.
That something was not quite right with Miss Layer was all too apparent.
He was used to dealing with persistent attempts to bed him but this was
ridiculous. He was beginning to
suspect that she was truly unhinged. The
thought of spending another hour with this jezebel made him shudder, let alone
days; the fact that they would be watched round the clock and have to play-act
at being the loving couple made him grind his teeth.
He snatched at the towel dispenser on the wall and it promptly crashed
down into the sink, knocking the top off the faucet and causing water to spurt
up and hit the ceiling. Drenched by
the torrent, Spike looked at himself in the vamp-reflective mirror and shook his
head.
Could
this mission get any worse?
Checking
the time on his standard issue, thankfully waterproof, watch he realised
they’d now be out of range for communication with HQ and there’d be no
contact with base until the mission was completed.
There was no way of letting W know his qualms about Faith Layer and her
mental capacity; he’d just have to make the best of it.
***********************************************
The
flashing dot of the aircraft was now steady and confirmed to those watching at
HQ that it had landed on schedule at Hornshaft Atoll.
Buffy’s heart beat out a staccato rhythm, her mouth dry and her hands
clasped in front of her to stop them shaking.
This was crunch time #1 of the mission, getting through the initial scans
and medical workups to prove that Mr and Mrs Lucrada were prime baby-making
candidates. It had been established
that on landing all hopeful recipients of the million dollar bounty were bagged
and tagged, as it were, samples taken and identification confirmed before they
were allowed to disembark. Once
through that initial stage, the couples were escorted to their own little
paradise lost and left to their own devices.
At the thought of her lover playing make believe with the happy families,
she felt the bile rise in her throat and clasping a hand over her mouth rushed
out to the restroom.
W
noticed Summerpenny leave in a hurry. Stony-faced,
she returned her attention to the screen; if this relationship between her top
spy and her right-hand woman disrupted the professional efficiency of the
operation, it would have to end. She’d
keep a careful eye on it.
Summerpenny
slipped back into the control room a few minutes later having lost the contents
of her stomach and heaved so hard her ribs felt bruised.
‘Get a grip, Buffy’ she told herself.
She’d seen the glare W had thrown her way as she came back in.
Now was not the time to lose the professional detachment that had allowed
her to rise through the ranks in such a short time.
Buffy
was required to be in the control room until Phase 2 of Mission BabyMaker kicked
in. And really, the love of her
life was laying his life on the line – so where else would she be?
But it didn’t mean she had to enjoy it.
The tension level in the room was racked up to the ceiling, the air a
blue haze thanks to W’s chain-smoking. Buffy
wanted to scream. She began
deep-breathing exercises to calm herself, but inhaling the cheroot-enhanced
atmosphere brought on a coughing fit, earning her another glare from her
red-haired boss. Mouthing
‘sorry’ through her efforts to breathe and wiping her streaming eyes, Buffy
tried another tack to distract herself.
She
recalled the day she’d applied to MI13 as a junior clerk.
She’d left high school and was unsure what to do with her future.
She’d just broken up with her high school sweetheart, her mom and
sister were moving away from Sunnydale to start afresh in Virginia, and her
classmates were mostly going on to university.
But Buffy didn’t want that – she wanted a new challenge.
As luck would have it she’d spotted an intriguing ad in the local
newspaper and applied immediately.
What
had it read…….oh, yes – ‘Welcome [insert name here]; your
mission, should you choose to accept it, will be fraught with danger, high on
thrills and low on boredom. You
know you wanna dance. Contact…….’
How could she not?
She
sent off the application form, but when a month had passed with no response,
Buffy just shrugged it off as a hoax and got on with the mundane job of helping
her family move and setting up her first apartment.
She’d taken a waitressing job at the Espresso Pump; boring, tiring and
below minimum-wage, it just about paid the rent.
But she knew there had to be more to life.
She
was completely taken aback when arriving home late one night, she found a
package behind the door. It
contained a cell phone and a note that simply read “Dial 13 – send”.
So she did. The clipped
English voice that answered stunned her. “Miss
Summerpenny? Thank you for
responding so promptly. A car will
be sent to collect you at 08:30 tomorrow. Be
ready. And come alone.”
The
click of the line disconnecting left Buffy bewildered, mouth agape and staring
at the silent cell phone. Well!
No hoax then! Her tummy had
been buzzing with butterflies and she hadn’t slept a wink but she was ready
and waiting when the car pulled up in front of her apartment block at exactly
8.30 am. As she stooped to enter
the roomy interior of the limousine, her life changed forever.
Then
there began an endless round of training, signing of Official Secrets Act
documents, travel, and more training. Buffy
Summerpenny, who’d never left her native soil before, suddenly had travel
stamps in her passport to places she’d never even heard of, and certainly
couldn’t pronounce. A six-month
stint at London HQ fuelled her fondness for all things British and it was whilst
she was there undergoing gruelling self-defence tuition that she had met him.
HIM. Agent 00666, a
legend in his un-lifetime, whispered about in breathless tones by every female
with a pulse – and some without.
Closing
her eyes to commit the well-loved scene even further into her memory bank, she
smiled as she recalled the sight of him striding with effortless grace across
the training room floor, his muscular arms gleaming as the harsh light of the
fluorescents above illuminated him and glinted off the fencing foil gripped in
his left hand. His hair was tousled
by his exercise, the definition of his chest easily seen through the skin-tight
vest he wore and his thighs………god, those thighs……, straining the
stitching on the sides of the white fencing pants he completely filled to
perfection. The hush that had
fallen as he entered the room was broken by a series of sibilant whispers as he
made his way through the pockets of swooning women, head held high, eyes hooded
and an amused smirk playing on his lips. He
knew the effect he was having, and he revelled in it.
Buffy
could recall how her heart had hammered in her chest, her sharply indrawn breath
and the little gasps falling from her lips as she stared at him, entranced.
But that was nothing compared to the jolt that went through her when he
turned his head slightly to meet her green eyes with his ice-blue orbs and
winked.
That
was it. *THWACK* Cupid’s
arrow, right on target and leaving her jelly-legged and in danger of fainting.
And
nothing had changed; he could still make her melt with a look, a whisper.
Her heart still beat only for him. But
now she loved him so completely, so entirely, that without him near, she felt
like half of her was missing.
Reaching
up to her neck to rub the throbbing mark that cemented their relationship, Buffy
was dragged back to the present by W’s voice announcing, “Ok people, Phase 1
has been a success. It would appear
our agents have passed their first test. Go,
get some rest. Back here in twelve
hours for updates. Summerpenny,
with me please.”
Following
her boss out of the room, Buffy glanced back to see the dot of the aircraft
pulse again as it started its return journey leaving William and Layer alone to
carry out the mission.