You Only Unlive Twice

by Spikesdeb

Chapter 7

Buffy returned to HQ before her eight hours’ mandatory downtime was completed, figuring W would cut her some slack, given the circumstances.  She’d managed a couple of hours’ restless sleep and had woken to find her limbs trapped in tangled bed sheets.  The linen was fresh from the laundry but how she wished she hadn’t stripped the bed after William had left for the mission.  It would have been soothing to have his scent surrounding her, in their bed.  She was, however, wearing one of his black tees and the fabric was imbued with that essence of Spike that spoke to her on a fundamental and primitive level.  She had buried her face in the cloth, taking deep breaths to calm herself before stripping it reverently from her body, laying it on the pillow with a lingering stroke, and then heading for the shower. 

Now she was apprehensively entering HQ, unsure of what she’d find there.  She didn’t think anything bad had happened to William, as her bite wasn’t doing the “red alert” thing.  But still, something was off; why else was Miss Twitchy showing up instead of the Miss Efficiency she usually was?  This whole two-bodies; one-will thing took some getting used to.  Like driving with one person pressing the gas and the other turning the wheel – tricky. 

Buffy slipped behind the counter of the Magic Box and logged on to the network.  She could see from the monitors that the control room was almost deserted and heaved a sigh of relief.  If there were any concerns, the room would be bursting at the seams.  Selecting an alternate view, she discovered W was not at her desk and a momentary panic assailed her.  Where was she?  Why wasn’t she waiting, ready in case of emergency?  Recognising the overreaction for what it was, Buffy took a deep breath.  God, she wasn’t usually this hyper.  She hoped William realised what she was going through, stuck here whilst he was doing who knows what with Faith Layer. 

*************************** 

Spike hung his head in frustration as the door to the hut shut behind him. He had never wanted a mission to be over as much as he did right now.  Looking up, he was faced with the nightmare of Layer striding through the seductively lit interior, shedding clothing in her wake.  Tossing him a look over her shoulder, she grinned insanely and laughed to him, “Alone at last, darling!  Wanna scrub my back?” 

Spike groaned; he hoped Buffy realised what he was going through, stuck in a cheap bordello with a maniac. 

****************************** 

Buffy felt William’s growing desperation through the bite-link; her pulse quickened and her breathing hitched as she clapped a hand to her neck.  Here comes the panic again!  The feeling remained at that level, however, and slowly she calmed herself from DefCon3 to Yellow Alert.

‘Hey, I can still do that… control ki!’  Buffy had dropped taekwondo after high school and had rarely thought of it since – must still be in there somewhere.  Shaking her head and chuckling to herself, she softly spoke out loud.  “Pull yourself together, Buffy.  Your man’s just doing his job – he’s got to be a little freaked, battling evil.  Chill, girl – he’ll soon be back loving and kissing you ‘til you’re all trembly.  Now get with the typing!” 

After inputting parameters for 00666’s mission, Buffy exited the system, pushed back her chair and gave her bite mark another caress.  She couldn’t stop touching the wound; her tangible reminder that dreams really do come true.  God, she sounded like an advert for Disneyworld!  At the moment it was the only link she had with her lover and she was grateful for anything she could get. 

Musing to herself as she organised the paperwork for the regular morning briefing, she froze, her outstretched hand hovering above the desk.  Her mom!  In all the months she’d been with William she hadn’t once thought to tell her mother about the relationship – and to all intents and purposes her eldest daughter had been wedded and bedded.  Oh boy, what an explanation that would be – ‘Hey mom, this is my… husband, William.  The wedding?  Well, it was sort of…. *a night of unparalleled passion during which I learned the meaning of multiple orgasms, had ivory fangs buried deep within my neck and a cool mouth suckling my lifeblood, dehydrated to a dangerous level and uttered words I don’t even know how to spell; then I drank deep of a demon’s blood and relished the salty, ferric taste on my tongue as I arched against him in the orgasm of the century and hey presto!  Mrs Demon!* 

Hmm; maybe not.  The introduction would be tricky, too – ‘Hey mom, this is the love of my life, William; he’s dead – well, un-dead.  He’s got spectacular goods in the trouser department, his tongue is so long it should have its own zip code and he can go all night like a steam train in a tunnel.  Oh, and he’s a vampire.  Give him a hug!’  Definitely something to be put off for another day. 

W’s voice over the intercom jostled her from her reverie. 

“Summerpenny.  Glad to see you’re back with us.  Join me in Briefing Room A.” 

“Will do, W,” Buffy replied, checking her appearance in her compact mirror.  She grabbed the files she needed and walked briskly to join her colleagues.  Buffy felt another tingle and slowed her pace; after a moment she continued, telling herself she had to get used to these small changes during his absence.  Or she would go mad. 

It was obvious as she hit the briefing room that there was some excitement afoot.  The entire station staff was assembled and the room hummed with activity.  W barely glanced up as she stepped through the doorway.  Head down, studying a map and diagram, she addressed Buffy in even, emotionless tones, gesturing to sections of the map with a cheroot-laden hand.  “Summerpenny, it appears there’s a complication regarding Layer.  I need you to pull her dossier – she’s not quite what she seems.” 

“What a surprise,” Summerpenny muttered. 

“Sorry?” 

“Nothing W.  I’ll get to it at once.” 

“Miss Layer may have been slipping us a Mickey Finn.” 

At Buffy’s puzzled look W continued.  “Her history goes no further back than four years ago.  As she was on research until she requested an active role for this mission, it’s only just come to light.  If I was a betting woman, I’d say it’s all been working towards this particular mission.  She must have known that once activated as a field agent she’d be discovered.  It would appear her target is Blond.” 

Buffy’s face blanched, her legs no longer able to support her.  As she fell backwards against the edge of the desk, W grabbed her arm. 

“Summerpenny?  Are you alright?” 

Buffy’s ears were full of buzzing and her heart pounding in her chest; she was drowning.  Gasping for breath, she closed her eyes to concentrate.  Finally looking up, W’s steely glare brought her back to earth. 

“Sorry, W.  Just a bit of a shock you know – hearing that the man you love is in the claws of an evil bitchwoman from hell kinda takes your breath away.” 

W was stunned at Summerpenny’s outburst.  Her face showed it.   

“Erm – I’ll just go and pull that file, W.”  Buffy winced inwardly as she slunk away to the file room.  God knows where that came from – she’d never even looked at W in a disrespectful way before.  Maybe she’d got more of Spike than she bargained for with the bite.  Yeah, that’s what it must be – Spikespeak. 

****************************** 

Head in his hands, Spike tried to block out the sound of Layer in the shower as she murdered “Lady Marmalade” with a voice that could shatter concrete.  When it was obvious she would be in there for a while, he silently rose to his feet and took the opportunity to search through her belongings.  Noiselessly entering the horror of the heart-shaped bedroom that dominated the hut, he went straight to the shoes she’d been wearing and clicked open the secret compartment that concealed the transmitter.  It was standard issue, MI13 style, and no markings identifying anything other.  Clever, Miss Layer – but not clever enough.  It was only a matter of time before he worked out what she was up to.   

Swiftly, he checked through her other things.  She had very little of her own, most of her wardrobe had been issued by HQ at G’s request so nothing was revealed by his trawl.  No matter, he would have his proof soon.  He suspected she was working with S.T.A.K.E. – she was obviously insanely sure of herself and that was a sure mark of a S.T.A.K.E. agent.  He’d bet his un-life on it.  

As the shower cut off, he exited the bedroom quietly, getting as far away from the potentially naked body of the cackling brunette as he could.  His skin crawled at the thought of having to share a room with that woman, never mind a bed.  The shudder of revulsion went right down from his neck to his toes.  He didn’t think he could be more freaked than he was at that moment.  He was wrong. 

Layer swept out of the bedroom doorway wrapped in a pink fluffy towel, her hair dripping wet and swept up on top of her head in what she no doubt thought of as a seductive fashion.  “William, William – what am I to do with you, darling?  You haven’t even unpacked.  Come now – off with those clothes and into the shower with you.” 

Spike stared at her, mouth agape.  Good lord, she intended to go through with the whole bloody charade even in private.  She was insane!  Thankfully, he was not. 

As she started inching her way towards him, hands holding the towel together across her chest, she swished her hips suggestively and started humming “Lady Marmalade” softly.  Spike’s eyes widened in horror as she sang out “Creole Lady Marmalade” and dropped the towel.  Instinctively he backed away from her approaching naked form, feeling behind him for the door handle.  Reaching his goal, he yanked the door open and backed out.  He didn’t get far.  In a split second his neck was gripped from behind by a black-gloved hand and he could feel warm breath tickle his ear as the owner of the hand chuckled against his skin. 

“Oh dear, Faith,” the rich female voice spoke across his shoulder “having trouble keeping your man…again?  Need a hand restraining him?” 

Faith Layer stood unashamedly naked, hands on her hips and an amused glint playing across her face.  “I was doing just fine, Miss Fellator – you tend to your own man-toys and let me play with mine.” 

“Kat, please, Faithy – we can’t stand on ceremony now can we?  Not when we’ve got such a tempting titbit to share.” 

Spike was taking it all in; obviously the two females were known to each other and not in a best pals way.  Maybe he could use that to play them off one against the other.  If only he could summon up that Spike Blond charm he was famous for.   

“I thought I made it clear...Kat.  Not sharing, not this one.  You broke the last toy we shared before I’d even got the wrapper off.  Not fair.  I want to play.” 

“Well, you’ll have to wait.  Grand Master Bates sent me to fetch your toy.  He’s anxious to meet the famous Mr. Blond and see exactly what all the fuss is about.” 

Pouting, Faith Layer whined out, “But I was just about to find out what all the fuss was about when you interrupted my game!” 

Now Spike knew who he was dealing with.  Master Bates was the faceless despot of S.T.A.K.E., renowned for his cruelty and fixation on fluffy white cats with questionable hygiene.  Ah well; at least he would be the first MI13 agent to see his face.  Even if it may be the last thing he saw. 

‘Get a grip, Spike,’ he thought.  ‘Where the hell did that come from?’  He never gave up without a fight; no matter how hopeless the situation he always managed to pull off a brilliant escape.  As he concentrated he could sense Buffy’s agitation, her feelings of helplessness, and that feeling was coming through the link.  Not now, he didn’t have time.  But it did give him the impetus to get back on track and assess the situation.  He had to get free and back to Buffy, to lie within her warm arms…and warmer legs. 

The jerk of the hand around his neck jolted him back to his current predicament.  Finally, he was released and pushed forwards into the room, the door being shut behind his as yet unseen assailant.  Turning quickly and taking up a defensive stance, he was momentarily stunned to see a lithe figure clad head to foot in skin-tight black PVC.  Her hair was raven-black, long and sleek; the suit was slit in the front down to her navel revealing pert breasts and toned abs.  The well-muscled legs finished in spike-heeled boots, which could no doubt deliver a vicious kick if the lady behind the heels was so minded.   

Spike smirked, “Nice paintwork.” 

Slapping the bullwhip against her boot, she appraised the vampire at close range.  “Well aren’t you just…delicious!” she drawled.  

“Yes, I’m a nummy treat.  What’s it to you, love?” 

“Yes, Kat – what is it to you?” snapped Faith  “I thought you got the message that this was a meal-for-one deal.” 

“Listen girls, flattered as I am – what’s with all this food fixation?  Not getting enough vitamins?  Need a boost?  I could probably satisfy your… protein requirements.”  He affixed the trademark Spike Blond smirk to his words for added effect. 

At the flicker of interest he spotted in Kat’s eyes, and the indrawn breath from Faith behind him, he considered his options.  Faith Layer he could handle on his own, he was sure of it; but this new player was tricky.  He would resort to his tried and tested sexual innuendo attack to keep them off centre, then when they were all gooey and helpless he’d move in for the kill, or the stun.  Never failed. 

At the crack of the whip wrapping itself round his legs and dragging him to the floor, he amended that thought.  ‘Good plan, Spike.  Make that never usually failed.’ 

Suddenly, the Kat-Woman was astride his hips and instead of the whip, she was gripping a pair of devilishly sharp blades, martial art sais, one in each hand.  Faith gave a little jump of glee then skipped round to stand at Spike’s outstretched left hand; she was still naked and still turning his stomach. 

“Oh, I so want to see your lily-white ass smeared all over this hut,” she cackled.   

“Well, well, wifey dear, you’ve changed your tune.  Have to say I’m surprised you threw the towel in so soon -- but then you can’t win them all.  Or should that be any?  Miss Fellator here seems to know how to make a connection.  She your superior in all areas, then?”   

“Think you’re something don’t you?  Nobody does it half as good as you, baby you’re the best,” Faith spat at him.  “Think you’re the best now, do you?  We’re gonna take pleasure in guttin’ you… boy!” 

“Too late.  Your singing’s already done that.” 

Snarling with rage, Faith launched her nude form at him, a biting and scratching banshee.  Just what Spike was waiting for, one expert chop to the side of her neck and he was able to push her away, her unconscious body collapsing against the far wall.  The whole while, Kat rocked backwards and forwards on his hips, eyes glinting and licking her lips with excitement, the twin knives glistening as she clashed the blades together in a metallic cacophony. 

Now was his chance to overcome the nubile woman gyrating on his groin.  Of course, pre-Buffy he would have played the scene for all it was worth before trying to extricate himself but now…he just wanted out. 

Sitting up sharply, suddenly the roles were reversed – the assassin flat out on her back, the vampire above her supported on his arms and staring menacingly down on her.   

“Enough foreplay don’t you think” he growled at her before vamping out and bending his fangs to her neck.  He stopped mid-lunge as excruciating pain lanced his body.   

“Oh, not nearly enough, pretty man.  I want to carve my name into your flesh and make you scream for mercy.   I’ve already made a start…” 

Kat twisted the knife she had rammed in his gut and grinned at the gush of blood staining her hand and PVC cleavage crimson.  She was all about the suffering and the sex being hand in hand and this was really getting her hot.  Flipping him so that he was laying flat again, pain etched on his face, she straddled his hips wriggling seductively.  With one knife still buried in his abdomen, she stroked the other down the side of his face, following its path with her tongue.  Spike was too dazed to move; the sudden blood loss had him temporarily incapacitated. 

“What’s the matter, lover?” she whispered in his ear, nipping his earlobe with sharp teeth and drawing yet more blood with her bite.  “I know how much you love this; you’re a vampire – this is what you do.  I have a very good friend – a mutual acquaintance you might say - who taught me all I know.  Dru sends her best and asked me to give you this….” 

Kat sucked his full bottom lip into her moist mouth and bit down hard again as she rocked against him.  Another vicious twist of the knife caused Spike to roar with pain.  This couldn’t kill him but it hurt like bloody hell.  And yes – there’d been a time when this would have been the precursor to hard, violent sex and slaughter lasting nights at a time.  But that was before – before Tara had been turned by Angelus; before he fell in love with Buffy.  Now it just sickened him.   

The thought of his pure soulmate and the contrast with this spawn of evil gave Spike a sudden surge of strength.  In a blur of movement he had an iron grip on the wrist with the knife in one hand and her throat with the other. 

Fighting to breathe, Kat released his lip, her face all bloodied: she thrashed about, trying to get free from the constriction around her neck.  As he crushed the bones of her wrist, the knife dropped to the floor with a clang.  She clawed at his hands; eyes bulging with panic, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 

“Have a break.  Have a kip, Kat,” snarled Blond. 

Finally, she lost consciousness and Spike shoved her limp weight away, tumbled against the still body of the crazy double agent Layer.  Wrenching the knife out of his belly, he sat up, dizzy from the loss of blood.  He needed to get out of there; Kat had said he was to be taken to Master Bates.  It wouldn’t be long before the goon squad descended on the hut when he wasn’t dragged in front of the Mighty Wanker in locks and chains.  He had to replace the blood loss. 

And lookee, lookee – two handy bite size snacks just lying about going to waste…. 

Quickly binding up his middle with a ripped sheet, he staggered over to Faith and sank his fangs into her neck draining her enough to keep her unconscious.  He dearly wanted to leave her dead but he just couldn’t.  Not like that.  If she was coming at him, yeah fine if there was no other way.  But not like this. 

Dropping her down, he moved on to the other girl; grabbing her hair in his fist he exposed the pale column of her throat marbled with the imprint of his fingers and quickly pierced the skin, gulping down the warm blood that would renew his strength, heal him.  Feeling the blood rocket through his body, he rested on his hands and knees a while, then as the miraculous fluid worked its magic he jumped up and headed to the bedroom.  

Gathering together a bundle of dark clothes and the stash of G’s ‘specials’, Spike stuffed them into a rucksack and shrugged on a new black shirt and trousers.  He retrieved the mission Communikit from the secret lining of his suitcase and stuffed that in the sack too.  A couple of stakes, binoculars and a Walther PPK pistol followed.  Guns.  Never his weapon of choice – but he was alone in enemy territory and he had to take everything he could get.   

Looking back to the unconscious women, he noted that they were breathing slowly but steadily and their heartbeats were getting stronger.  He’d probably regret not finishing them off but that’s what set him apart from other beasts, other demons.  He chose to go against his nature.  He wasn’t a slave to his bloodlust, not anymore.  

After gingerly checking the tightness of his bandages, he covered his platinum hair with a black balaclava and slipped out of the doorway into the rapidly falling dusk, disappearing into the undergrowth silently like the predator he was. 

***************************** 

Buffy pulled Layer’s dossier from the cabinet and was making her way back to W in the briefing room when she began to feel weirdly uneasy in her skin.  First of all her throat felt constricted, like she couldn’t breathe.  She shook it off and continued walking but the sensation lingered in the background.  This was crazy!  How on earth was she going to function if every time William was away from her she spent the whole separation spooked and emotional?  W would be on her case, on top of everything else. 

Gritting her teeth, she pushed open the door and strode towards W, who had her back to her looking at the large-scale map on the wall.   

“Here’s Layer’s file, W.” 

“Fine, Summerpenny.  Please make sure everyone has a copy before we begin.” 

“Of course, it’ll just take me a…” 

The rest of the sentence was cut off by a spine-chilling scream as Buffy crumpled to the floor, papers and photographs drifting around her from the dropped file.  Every other occupant of the room stopped mid-sentence as heads whipped round, searching for the source of the unearthly sound. 

Buffy could only hug her knees to her chest, as white hot pain seared through her abdomen and left her panting for breath.  She couldn’t vocalise the feeling despite W’s stooping form and barked questions.  Shaking her head, she felt herself falling into oblivion, the room fading out.   As she sank into the dark, she gasped out the one word…  “William…”

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