You Only Unlive Twice
by Spikesdeb
Chapter 6
On returning to the main part of the jet, Blond was
relieved to see that in his absence, Layer had donned the costume supplied by
the quartermaster as part of her cover. She
wore plain black casual slacks, low-heeled pumps and a shapeless beige overshirt,
primly buttoned from neck to hem. The sleeves were long and loose, ending in tightly buttoned
cuffs, not an inch of flesh showing. To
finish off, the make-up had gone, her hair was braided into a ponytail and she
was sporting the ugliest pair of spectacles he had ever seen.
This Faith Layer, he could handle.
His demon wouldn’t be tempted by Faith the Librarian, except maybe as a
hors d’oeuvre.
Faith
Lucrada, as he must now think of her, glared
up at him from her seated position, and noting his amused smirk growled at him,
“Can it, deadboy. I may look meek
and mild but don’t kid yourself that the clothes maketh the woman.
I could still kick your lily-white ass from here to eternity.”
“But you look delightful, my dear; every inch the
demure librarian.”
Faith’s snarling mouth sat ill at ease with her
nondescript garb. Smirking at her,
Blond passed the table and retrieved the suitcase containing his allotted
costume. He continued on to the
bedroom, time to assume the life of William Lucrada, novelist.
His eyes widened in horror at a thought.
‘If Faith’s outfit is anything to go by, G’s probably got me decked
out like Oscar Wilde at a garden party.’
Unfastening the case, he let out a sigh of relief
when he found a selection of garments in muted colours – several t-shirts,
both round and v-neck, some shirts, jeans and trousers and, to his amusement,
boxers. He was a commando boy, our
Mr Blond – but on second thoughts perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea.
The more clothing he could place between himself and Faith Layer, the
better. ‘Must remember to get a
bottle of that Mekong whiskey for G,’ he thought.
He reached for a blue round-necked t-shirt and a
pair of jeans and laid them on the bed, then stripped off his silk shirt.
As he began to unzip the designer trousers he wore, he stilled his hands.
Without turning, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth before saying
in a voice devoid of emotion, “Do be a dear, little wifey, and fuck off.”
Leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed and
taking in the naked torso of her faux-husband, Faith Layer simply laughed
hysterically and wandered off in a leisurely fashion.
“Later then, hubby dearest…”
Spike’s shoulders slumped, his chin on his chest.
What he wouldn’t give right now for a satin-sheeted bed filled with
warm, naked Buffy and a mug of brandy-laced blood at body temperature.
Or a machete………………………………
****************************
Taking advantage of Blond’s occupation with his clothing, Faith Layer retrieved the tiny transmitter from the heel of her shoe and keyed in the unlock code. When the LED flashed green, she brought it to her mouth and whispered, “Agent X reporting. We land in 15 minutes. All systems are go. I repeat, all systems are go.”
On receiving an acknowledgement, she furtively
stashed the transmitter in its hiding place and settled back into the seat.
She didn’t notice the vampire staring at her from
the open doorway, his icy blue eyes cold and murderous as he gazed at her
calculatingly.
******************************
Buffy was standing in front of W’s desk, feeling
like a naughty schoolgirl. After
leaving the briefing, W had led the way back to her room in silence, striding
ahead and forcing Buffy to do a little half-skip run to keep up.
Once within the plush confines of the chief’s office, time crawled as W
paced back and forth behind her mahogany desk, puffing on a cheroot, whilst
crossing her free arm across her body. Just
as Buffy cleared her throat to speak, W beat her to it.
“Summerpenny...Buffy; sit down.”
Her tone was almost gentle, not at all what Buffy
was expecting. She sat.
W leaned back in her leather swivel recliner, her
hands steepled under her chin, her gaze pensive. “I hate to do this, Buffy, but I really need to have a
little chat with you about your relationship with Agent 00666.
Now, I understand from your earlier actions that you consider yourself,
what was it, ‘mated’ to him?”
Buffy nodded almost imperceptibly, her eyes wide
pools of green.
“And this means what exactly?”
*ivory hands running up her thighs
trailing fire in their wake as he gently lowers his head, feather light
laps at her curls with his moist, cool tongue; she draws in a ragged breath and
he laughs against her skin sending shivers rippling through her body.
Slowly, slowly he kisses along her labia, then licks and suckles her
clitoris until she screams his name and arches against him*
“Erm, I’m not really sure what it is you’re
asking me, W.” Buffy was blushing
under her boss’ scrutiny as she recalled the night of lovemaking that had led
to her being claimed.
“Well, I’d like to know the hows, the whys, the
ramifications. Anything you think
might be of interest.”
*panting breaths as she gently floats down from
her orgasm to see him prowl up the bed from between her thighs, his face
glistening with the juices that had gushed from her pussy, eyes a mixture of
pacific blue and golden yellow – caught between the man and the demon.
A rough lick across her nipple then a cool breath to harden it further;
one finger, two fingers sliding in and out of her aching depths, pace quickening
as her face flushes with her desire*
“It’s kinda personal, W. I’m not really very comfortable speaking about it.”
“Buffy – we are not in a normal business.
Danger assaults us at every turn. Any
advantage we have, even something you may believe is inconsequential, could be
crucial. I’m a woman of the world, Buffy.
Just give me the basic facts.”
*a growl from deep within his chest as he covers
her mouth with his, sucking her bottom lip in between his own and nibbling on
the fullness; sliding his tongue against hers, thrusting in and out to mimic the
rhythm of his fingers then swirling tongue around tongue until she’s had
enough of receiving and rasps her tongue across his teeth, muttering his name
and begging him to fuck her*
Basic facts? What
could ever be ‘basic’ about Spike or William’s lovemaking?
He was a master vampire, an immortal being with enhanced sight, hearing
and smell capable of sensing the slightest increase in breathing, temperature,
heartbeat and the gush of arousal. His
slightest touch, his look, sent her spiralling out of control – he was the
maestro; her body, his Stradivarius. And
he plucked her, nightly, to a crescendo of passion.
*green eyes wide as he takes her at her word and
roughly parts her legs to wrap around his waist, thrusting his cock deep inside
her; eyes meeting and holding each other’s gaze as he moves his hips in
slow, sweet torture, as she bucks her pelvis to gain friction for her
throbbing clit; then a blaze of fireworks behind her eyes as he pounds her into
the mattress, his shaft rubbing at her clit, his fingers digging into her
shoulders and leaving marks of possession; pain and pleasure mingling as one as
he bites down hard on her sweat-soaked neck, each pull of his mouth as he drinks
down her blood causing mini-orgasms to crash through her womb; then the taste of
his blood on her tongue as she instinctively seeks out the fluid of life –
ecstasy*
“Buffy?”
“Huh?”
“You were going to explain to me the mating
bite?”
“Oh; erm…. can I have a glass of water W.
My mouth’s suddenly very dry.”
*****************************
The jet shuddered to a halt on the runway; the
occupants of the craft were both extremely nervous, but for different reasons.
Spike was potentially about to engage in the fight of his life so, yeah,
not exactly calm. Not only did he
have the mission to tackle, but also he had an insane, nymphomaniac
double-crossing hell-bitch to contend with.
Faith however ------ well Faith was going home.
And everybody knows what a bitch family reunions can be.
The delivery of MI13’s top agent to her master was the price of entry
to the inner sanctum. She’d been
deep undercover with the enemy for four long years, plotting and planning, and
now that she was finally on her way to collect her fortune in blood money, her
nerves were shredded. She’d kill
anyone who got in the way of her taking her place as S.T.A.K.E.’s number 1
agent. Anyone.
Grabbing the copy designer hand luggage Spike Blond
grimaced. He was accustomed to
Louis Vuitton, Prada, Gucci - nothing but the best.
He was also used to Buffy, not the second-rate copy of a woman he was
lumbered with for the foreseeable future. Un-life’s
a bitch – and then you fake-marry one!
The jet’s engines slowed and stopped, the fuselage
door opened up to drop down the integral stairs. The heat and smell of the tropical day washed over Mr and Mrs
William Lucrada as they passed through the doorway to embark on the next stage
of their ‘married’ life.
Despite G’s assurance that the gossamer thin layer
coating his skin would withstand sunlight for a limited amount of time, Spike
was still wary of stepping out into the glare of the afternoon sun.
When fabricating their application, they’d added a rider that William
Lucrada was sensitive to sunlight, nothing hereditary that may mess up their
supposedly golden child but enough to allow them to get him out of the
unforgiving solar rays quickly without too much fuss. Of course, as he was now
aware of Faith’s treachery, he felt sure that they would be fast tracked
through any tests and on to the main mission quickly.
After all, if she wanted him to be discovered all she had to do was knock
him out whilst he was still in the air.
Still, as he stood perched at the top of the steps
leading down to the complex, he said a silent prayer to the Powers That Be
before grasping Faith by the hand and descending into the seething mass of
people below.
They were funnelled along a rope-lined passage that
finished amid a bank of screens, scanners and scarily long hypodermics.
As they approached the first screened-off area, Spike activated his
internal chips by biting down on the switch embedded in his right fang.
Whilst he was now sure that both he and his good ‘lady wife’ would
pass the scans and tests with flying colours, her being from the enemy camp and
all, he was still anxious. He was
alone in the midst of S.T.A.K.E.’s chief operations base, out of contact with
HQ and suddenly saddled with an insane double-crossing ho.
And to cap it all, he kept getting the strangest feelings flooding his
body, as if he was………embarrassed? Where
did that come from? Pissed off –
yes, but all coy and shy? That just
wasn’t him.
As they were called forward to take their place in
the hands of the doctors, he realised. It
wasn’t him; it was Buffy. She
must be hellish red in the face at the moment if the squirminess was passing
along the bite mark to him. Maybe
she was in a worse place. Maybe
not.
Feeling calmer as the link to Buffy reminded him of
what was on the line here, and what was waiting for him back in Sunnydale, he
moved forwards to take his seat and rolled up his sleeve for the pretty nurse.
“So… Julie” he drawled, “badge says you’re
‘Bloodwork’. Gonna work my
blood up then?”
The dark-eyed brunette blushed under his gaze.
God, this one was a hottie - and with the attitude.
With shaking hand, she withdrew the samples she needed for the lab.
The first test was done there and then – a DNA scan to prove his
identity matched that on the main computer.
As she inserted the slide she’d made into the scanner and waited for it
to confirm his ID, she risked a glance at him from beneath lowered lashes.
Bad move. Body no longer in
her control. Unable to think.
The beep of the scanner as it spat out the result on
a ribbon of paper jolted Julie and she let out a little “eek” of alarm.
Regaining her composure, she verified that the man in front of her was
indeed William Lucrada, novelist, and ticked the documents to allow him to move
on to the next stage.
“You’re so fine, Mr Lucrada… I mean…” she
hesitated, mortified at what she’d just said “you’re fine to proceed to
the next unit. Please take this
sheet with you.”
Smirking, Spike Blond retrieved the medical sheet
and clipboard and leaned towards her. “S’been
a pleasure, love” he whispered in her ear as he lightly brushed his lips
across her cheek.
Good lord – she wanted to see his babies.
Make that have his babies. Please.
Further tests followed, urine, saliva, more blood.
The urine was supplied by another of G’s ingenious pumps secreted near
to Spike’s more than generous natural attributes.
Scans by the dozen of every part of the body, all carried out by an array
of beauties occupied an hour of Spike’s time.
Spying Faith as he moved among the medical equipment, it seemed that her
tests were carried out by a team of bodybuilding male models.
Seems the chief wasn’t taking any chances that the candidates would be
unable to perform and was loading the dice early in the game.
Eventually all tests were done, all boxes were
ticked and all needle marks were bandaged.
Time to move through to the main event.
*****************************
“Very….hmm mmm….interesting, Summerpenny.
Do you mind if I open a window, it is awfully warm in here suddenly.”
“No, W, go ahead.”
Buffy had outlined the procedure in a detached
manner, or as detached as she could get when it was about William, naked.
Guess she hadn’t been as clinical about the description as she thought,
judging by W’s flushed cheeks and the hand fanning in front of her face.
“I’m sure that the information will prove very
useful. Now, can you still sense
him through the bite? Do you have
any indication of what is happening?”
Buffy concentrated. The emotions coming through weren’t very strong.
She sensed that he was relieved, she supposed, but other than that
nothing was overlaying his general status quo.
“I just get the feeling that everything is going
according to plan, W. He’s kind
of relieved, so I think that means they got through the tests all right as we
thought. Nothing else really.”
“Good! Well.
Thank you, Summerpenny. You’d
better get off home and get some rest. I
want you back here by 2200 hours. Your
link with Blond is the only one we have at the moment.
It could be crucial.”
Buffy rose from the seat and turned to go, reluctant
to leave the security of HQ.
“I could stay, W.
I’m really not tired.”
“No; I need you to be fresh, rested.
I’ll call if anything develops. Go.”
Buffy nodded and headed off home, anxious to get the
eight hour faux rest over with and return to the fray as soon as she could.
******************************
The piercing tones of the plastic-enhanced bimbette
who was leading them to their love-shack, was giving him a headache.
“So, all facilities are available to you 24/7.
You call, we run! Okay? We’re
here to make your stay pleasurable… if you know what I mean. We want you to make babies, people! Lots and lots of them. So,
if the shack ain’t rockin', we’ll come a-knockin!”
She turned her perfect Hollywood smile on them at
that point, and received varying responses, ranging from titters to groans.
And one icy blue glare of death. As
she met William Lucrada’s eyes, her smile faltered and she turned quickly to
resume the trek to the cabins.
“Here we are, Shack 69 – William and Faith
Lucrada. Here’s the key.
Go! Enjoy!”
Spike reluctantly took the key from her red-taloned
hand, grimacing at the key-fob as he did so.
He almost snorted. This was
nearly tackier than Faith; the 3-D couple on the fob moved obscenely in a parody
of soixante-neuf. ‘How
thoughtful,’ he thought, ‘Just in case you forget the number of your
love-shack.’ Lame; beyond lame.
“Darling, shall we?” he smiled at Faith, hating
the thought of being stuck in this situation with her.
“Oh, yes – let’s check out the bedroom first,
honey!”
The tour leader flashed a wide smile and with a nod
of encouragement, she moved on, the rest of the group following behind her like
ducklings to the slaughter.
As the door of the hut closed, a dark figure emerged
from the woodland that surrounded the main complex.
Clad head to foot in black, skin-tight PVC, the raven-haired beauty
uncoiled the bullwhip she carried loosely in her gloved hand and gave it an
experimental crack. She’d been
impressed by what she’d seen of Spike Blond so far…and she intended to see a
whole lot more, before she flayed that delicious pale skin from his well-muscled
body. Soon, very soon.