You Only Unlive Twice

by Spikesdeb

Chapter 8

Buffy came round to find herself on the couch in W’s office, her boss pacing the rug in front of her, smoking and carrying a glass of... was that vodka and coke?  What happened?   

“Summerpenny?  How are you feeling?  Here, drink this.” 

It was vodka and coke, make that coke and vodka, as Buffy found out when she downed a healthy mouthful.  Coughing and choking she jerked upright, spitting the dark liquid all down her front and onto the pale carpet.   

“Sorry,” she mumbled, dabbing at the mess.  “What happened, W?  Did I pass out?  WILLIAM!  It’s William – W, something terrible happened to him, he’s hurt.  I have to go to him.” 

Buffy sprang to her feet, her head swimming from the gulp of vodka she’d had on top of her fainting fit.  W steadied her, laying a restraining hand on her arm as she tried to leave the room. 

“Be sensible, Buffy.  00666 is our best agent; if he is in trouble…well, what could you do?” 

“Well I can’t just sit here!  I’ve had the training, know the moves.  W, I’m a black belt in karate, jujitsu, tae kwondo.  I’ve been studying martial arts since I was three years old!  You know I can handle myself.  Check my records; I aced all the physicals when I first joined.  I have to go!  I can feel his agony…it’s killing me…” 

Buffy’s raised voice tailed off at the end as she fingered the bite mark on her neck.  Drawing in a breath, it hitched in her throat as her face crumpled, tears falling from her limpid green eyes.   

“Please, W. You have to let me try.  The nearer I get to him, the more we share through the link.  I can find him, I have to find him.  At least let me go with someone else, a retrieval unit or something.” 

W walked round to the back of her desk and slowly sat down.  Leaning forwards, she steepled her hands together and rested her chin on top of them.  She was torn.  William knew the risks, he was a double-0 agent; this particular mission was always one without backup.  All usual search and retrieve directives were withdrawn on orders from HM Government, something to do with trade agreements.  She hadn’t questioned beyond that, just obeyed orders as all agents did.   

But now, looking over at the anguished face of her PA as she begged to go and risk her own life to save her best agent, she couldn’t justify the reason.  Truth be told, despite W’s icy exterior and detached manner, the bleached blond vampire had sneaked in under the razor-sharp wire protecting her emotions and was firmly ensconced in her “those I care about” camp.  Of course, the fact that she was wining and dining his sister may have reinforced that opinion.     

Breathing in deeply, she made a decision.  To hell with regulations – she wasn’t about to let the most breathtaking individual she’d ever met vanish without a fight.  No; consequences be damned, she’d think about that another time. 

Buffy didn’t take her eyes off W, praying that her boss would just give her the opportunity to get near to her lover.  Nothing showed on W’s face, no emotion.  Heartless bitch!  God help anyone who tried to get close to her, they’d probably freeze before getting within a foot.  Buffy always thought that W was a professional, detached and cold, but she’d never thought of her as cruel.  Well, this was it.  If she walked out of this room without W’s support, she was going anyway, and fuck the service too!  She was done. 

W dropped her hands to rest on the desktop, still laced together.  Two sets of green eyes burned across the room as they met.   

Buffy’s jaw dropped when W spoke, “How soon can you be ready to leave?” 

Gathering her wits, Buffy replied “NOW!  I’m ready now…I don’t need anything; I just need to go to him…” 

She was completely floored, and humbled.  She had utterly misjudged W and felt ashamed of her earlier thoughts.  She was human after all.  Who’d have guessed that Wireknickers Willow had a heart of mush below the ice? 

Getting to her feet, W surprised her even further.  “You’re not going alone, Buffy.  There’ll be a retrieval team of four including you…and me.” 

You?” Buffy almost squealed.  “You’re coming, too?” 

The red-haired Commander In Chief laughed at Buffy’s incredulous look.  “Yes, Buffy.  You don’t think I got this job because of my looks do you?  I designed most of the training procedures you went through and I’m as fully trained as you are.  Also I’m due leave.  Don’t be mistaken.  This is not a mission that will be sanctioned by MI13; it’s completely off the record, volunteers only.  I’ll ask, discreetly, for two others to accompany us.  The jet will be at my disposal as I set off for my well deserved vacation – a little detour won’t hurt, and the pilot owes me a favour.” 

Buffy was stunned; she looked it.  Her eyes were round as saucers as she stared unblinking at her boss.  Remembering to breathe, she let out a soft, “Wow.” 

W chuckled.  “It’s got to be better than two weeks R&R with the Head of Research, which was my actual vacation plan.  This sounds like much more fun.  Come on; let’s go clue G in on the subterfuge and see what he can let us have as going away presents.” 

Buffy followed the redhead out of the door, shaking her head in wonder.  Boy she’d been beyond wrong about her.  Any more surprises to come? 

*************************** 

Surprises there were aplenty.  As W and Buffy entered G’s workspace, all activity ceased. It was very rare for the boss to venture this far inside the building, to the machinery that made it hum.  She had daily contact with G, of course, but mostly in the form of e-mails or reports.  So the fact that she’d walked down the corridor and braved scanners and security measures spoke volumes to the gadget meister.  Something was most definitely up. 

Dismissing his assistant, G cleared an area on his workbench so that he could lean back against it as W sat down gingerly on his ancient leather swivel chair.  It squeaked alarmingly as she settled back and crossed her legs, revealing slim ankles and designer shoes.  The flick of her lighter as she lit her ever-present cheroot illuminated the dim corner of the room.  G’s work area was stuck away behind the door and seemed chaotic and disorganised in comparison to the sleek and modern test section.  Buffy stood off to one side, almost bursting with her need to move, to get to William.  She was moving her weight from foot to foot, restlessly rubbing at the bite mark on her neck, and was giving off vibes of impatience that managed to penetrate even G’s usually oblivious fog.  

“Aaah, W, not that I’m unhappy to see you here, but why are you here?  And why’s Summerpenny so edgy?” 

W blew out a thin stream of smoke, her left hand cradling her right elbow as she held up the cheroot.  She smiled enigmatically and quirked her eyebrow toward the back office, a silent request to move to somewhere more private.  Buffy caught on immediately and virtually ran to the haven of the room, turning impatiently when W and G didn’t move as fast as she wanted.  She wanted to scream at them, but instead clasped her hands together, wringing them nervously.  Eventually all three of them were in the tiny corner room, the door closed and the blind drawn down.  W spoke softly, outlining her plan. 

“You want to do what?” hissed G, removing his glasses and running a hand through his hair.  “Are you insane?” 

“Au contraire, old chap.  I think I’ve come to my senses.  It was insane of HQ to consider sending in our best agent and abandoning him to S.T.A.K.E.  In the words of the blond devil himself - ‘bugger that’.  I’ve invested too much time and resources to throw him to the wolves just because of their precious trade agreements.” 

G sat down heavily on the easy chair against the wall.  Glancing up at Buffy, he replaced his glasses.  “I suppose this was your idea, Summerpenny?” 

“I can’t leave him there, G.  He’s in pain, I can feel it.” 

G looked at Buffy then W then back to Buffy.  “How exactly can you ‘feel’ it?  He’s completely without communication devices that work from the island and as far as I know he isn’t an adept at ESP.”  G chuckled at his own feeble joke.  Getting no response, he cleared his throat and continued. 

“Yes, well.  Ahem.   Maybe you could fill me in on the latest?” 

Buffy didn’t know where to begin.  W did it for her.  “It appears that Miss Summerpenny and Mr Blond are karmicly linked.  She feels strong emotions emanating from him – pain, pleasure, that sort of thing.  She felt just such intense pain earlier when she collapsed on the floor of the briefing room.  It’s clear he’s in deep trouble, G.” 

“How on earth is that link achieved?  I only ask because it could be invaluable for future missions.” 

Silence.  Uncomfortable shuffling.   

“He bit her, she bit him.” 

“Oh!  I see.  Erm, and that’s it?  That’s all it takes?  Hmm; do you think Blond would be willing to do that again for the next...” 

“NO!  He bloody well would not be willing!” 

G was completely flummoxed now, floundering about for a safe haven in which to moor his drifting mind.   

“But…it would be for the good of the service…..surely a little sacrifice…” 

“NO, G!  Just forget it, alright?” 

W took pity on him, the sight of him owlishly blinking behind his spectacles proof that he had absolutely no clue as to why Buffy was so vehement in her objections.  Biting her lip to stifle a giggle, she got up and leaned in close to his ear.  G blushed from his hair downwards, casting horrified looks Buffy’s way. 

“Ahem, yes…of course……..that would be most…….inappropriate.  Ahem.” 

Buffy was not happy.  Just the thought of William being that intimate with anyone else brought forth thoughts so violent they shocked her.  She glared at G, her eyes venomous and narrowed.   

“No biting.  Am I clear?” 

“Crystal.  I totally understand.” 

“Ok.  Then can we move on?  I need to get to William now!” 

W outlined her plan.  The pilot would be putty in her hands and the time off they needed was just a matter of a couple of e-mails to Personnel.  Equipment wise, they needed some assistance from G’s bag of tricks and were still short two volunteers. 

“Make that one volunteer, W.” 

“G, I couldn’t ask you to do this.  If it works out…well, we’ll probably be able to lose the details in the report; but if it blows up in our faces…it’s the end of the road.  You’ve too much to lose.” 

“Nonsense!  It’s high time I got out of this place; I’m starting to look like a crusty old man and there’s years left in me yet.  About time I let Ripper out to play.” 

“Ripper?” queried Buffy.  W and G exchanged a look.  The redhead was well aware of G’s chaotic past but not many other people in the service knew that in his youth, G was quite the tearaway.    No, not tearaway – psychotic juvenile delinquent with a penchant for the dark arts more like.  It would be difficult to guess that now looking at his usual apparel; more Zimmer than Ripper! 

W answered Buffy’s query, sort of.  “Suffice to say, Summerpenny, that G here may look like mild mannered Clark Kent but in reality he’s more Superman on speed.  Trust me; if you need someone to watch your back, he’s your man.” 

Surprises.  That’s the thing about them; they’re always unexpected. 

Buffy blinked.  “If you say so, W.  Okay, we’ve got us two and G.  Can we go now?  Please?  I feel like my gut’s on fire, my head’s pounding and I want to kill something.  I need to be there.” 

W and G exchanged another glance, W nodding slightly to the gadget man.  “When can you be ready, G?” 

“Well, let’s see.  Give me an hour and I’ll have everything packed up.  I’ll need to grab some equipment from the beta testing suite, a few tricks that might come in useful.  Any special requests?” 

“Some frigging huge knives!” 

Buffy clapped her hand over her mouth in horror.  A beat and then W breathed, “What she said.” 

Leaving G to gather his tools, W and Buffy headed off to recruit the next likely candidate for the near-hopeless mission. 

******************************* 

“W!” Buffy hissed; “where are we going?” 

“To see a friend.  Don’t worry.  It’ll be fine, I promise.” 

Buffy was walking alongside her flame-haired boss and stealing glances sidelong at her.  She’d never seen this side of the woman before.  She looked younger, softer somehow.  It occurred to Buffy that W was the same age as her.  She usually thought of her as older and wiser but in reality it was probable that they graduated at the same time.  No doubt she was fast-tracked to management when she joined.  She was brilliant, good with computers and had access to magic: useful skills in this job.  Strange to think that W probably went through the same boy-band crushes at the same time she did.   

They’d left the Magic Box by the rear door and were on their way to W’s SUV in the underground garage.  W had informed the desk that she was taking her leave of absence early and the Summerpenny had a family emergency to attend to.  By the time everything filtered through to Personnel and back to HQ in London they’d be well gone and there’d be little that could be done to stop them.  W suspected that it wouldn’t take much figuring out as to where they’d be.  Her heated defence of Mr Blond on the occasions when his unorthodox methods had caused the suits in charge to choke on their foie gras had raised more than a few eyebrows.  Well, in his words, ‘sod ‘em’. 

Zooming out from the darkness of the garage, dark glasses covering her eyes, W’s face bore an unfamiliar grin as she revelled in the unaccustomed freedom she felt.  The vehicle bounced over the last lip of the ramp, crashing down heavily on its suspension before speeding off.  A fly on the window would have seen Buffy Summerpenny gripping the dashboard for dear life and gulping nervously. 

******************************** 

The SUV pulled into the parking area of a building not unfamiliar to Buffy.  She looked round at W in shock. 

“Please don’t tell me we’re here to see who I think we’re here to see.” 

“Summerpenny, didn’t I tell you to trust me?  He’s the best agent we have after Blond.  And he owes him, remember?  He’s ideal.” 

“But William would hate to be ‘rescued’ by him.  They’re not bosom buddies you know.  Isn’t there someone else?”  Buffy was almost whining. 

W engaged the parking brake and turned off the engine.  “No, Buffy.  There isn’t.  Agent 0013 is our best bet at getting Blond back in one piece.  Now move your tush.” 

Buffy rubbed her hands over her tired eyes.  She hated that she had to ask this man for a favour.  He would be gloating about it for years.  But W was probably right.  William and he had a history of rivalry and there’d been a time when agent 0013 wouldn’t have made it back from a disastrous mission without William’s quick-thinking and vampire speed reaction.  Maybe that would be enough to tempt him to help.  She unbuckled her seatbelt and followed W into the building. 

Buffy stood nervously behind W as she rang the doorbell.  It galled her to have to ask for help at the best of times, and right now it made her sick to her stomach.  After what seemed an eternity the door opened to reveal the towel clad form of Xander Harris leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb, hair ruffled, black patch rakishly over his damaged eye. 

“Well, well.  To what do I owe this pleasure, W?  You don’t usually make house calls…I’m a little…busy…just now.” 

The accented voice that called out from behind him left them in no doubt as to what he was busy with. 

“Darlink…ven are you coming back to bed……you promised me so many orgasms and I’m only up to five…..hardly plural…come to me, my little shashlik…” 

Buffy peeped from behind W to see who the voice belonged to, her face a mask of disgust.  Harris smiled widely as he spotted the petite blonde in his hallway. 

“Buffy Summerpenny!  I thought you’d never accept my invitation – come on in.  I just need to do some…tidying…before I can entertain you properly.” 

Buffy grimaced, suppressing an “ew”.  Harris never seemed to give up.  He’d been asking her out since she joined the service and she’d turned him down every time.  At first she’d been grateful for his proffered friendship and had been happy to join him for coffee at the Espresso Pump during her breaks.  But it soon became clear that he wanted more than friendship and that was never on her agenda.  When she’d politely advised him that she thought of him as a friend only, he’d stropped about like a teenager and hadn’t spoken to her properly since, except to throw sarcastic comments in her direction along the lines of “Little Miss Icebox” and “thawed out those panties yet, Summerpenny?”  She could barely stand to be in the same room as him. 

W swept into the apartment past the semi-naked spy and Buffy followed her, determinedly ‘eyes front’.  The last thing she wanted to see was Xander-flesh, thank you very much.  The door clicked shut behind them as they entered the living area.  Buffy looked up as she spotted scarlet toe-nailed feet come into her line of vision.  Standing in front of her was a woman, naked except for a black velvet ribbon at her throat, hands on hips, entirely unashamed at her nudity.  The owner of the mystery voice, no doubt. 

“Xander, vat is going on here?  Are ve playing another game, because I told you…….no more peoples unless it’s more boys zan girls…….or Michelle from ze American Pie.” 

W raised a quizzical eyebrow, turning her green-eyed gaze on Mr Harris. 

“W, Buffy – I’d like you to meet Miss Anyanka Jenkinskovitch.  She’s an attaché with the Russian Consulate.  I’ve been showing her the ropes.” 

“Oh, and the chains also……….he’s quite an adventurous leetle babnik, aren’t you Xanderkins?” 

“Anya – don’t you have to go to that meeting now?  Let me help you.” 

As he ushered the nymphet back into the bedroom, he flashed an apologetic yet slightly smug grin at W and Buffy before closing the bedroom door. 

W sat down on the cream leather couch, lighting another cheroot and inhaling deeply.  Buffy remained standing, pacing to show her impatience.  

“W, I’m not sure this is such a good idea.  I mean look at him?  He’s a fool; he has no discipline, plus he gives me the creeps.  There must be someone else.  Let’s go, before he comes back.” 

“Relax, Buffy.   He’s the right man for the job.  He can’t follow orders and he takes insane risks.  He’s exactly what we’re looking for.  And the fact that it’s Blond – he’ll lap it up.  Trust me.  Now sit; you’re making me dizzy.” 

Buffy sat, heavily, crossing her arms and pouting.  Eventually, after some very dubious sounds had drifted through the closed door, it opened to reveal a flushed and radiant Anyanka, swathed in white furs, and a smug and fully clothed Xander Harris.  Briskly, he escorted the Russian to the door, his promise to call her following her departing back. 

“So, W.  What does bring you here?” 

Quickly, W outlined the problem.  Before she got to the bit where she asked him for his help, Xander fell about laughing. 

“Oh man!  This is too much!  Super Spy finally met his match, huh?  So now poor little William needs to be rescued before he gets a boo-boo?  This is just great.  Hey, count me in, whatever you need.  I wouldn’t miss seeing him all needy for all the coconuts in Cambodia!” 

He was unprepared for the hellcat that jumped him, knocking him to the floor and snarling as she gripped him round his throat.  W sprang to her feet as Summerpenny spat angrily at the decked spy. 

“Let’s get this straight, Harris.  I don’t need any help from you.  William doesn’t need any help from you.  I despise you.  I’d like to see your throat ripped out and your bloody cream couch made red with your life-blood.  Don’t push me.” 

Xander Harris was floored in more ways than one.  What the hell had come over shrinking violet Buffy Summers?  Was she possessed? 

“Is she possessed?” he asked W. 

“Not quite, Harris.  Let’s just say that Summerpenny and Blond have a link that seems to imbue them both with some of each other’s attributes.  It appears that Buffy here may be feeling his anger and frustration, and you were in the way.” 

“Oh. Right.  Well, I’ll play nice then.  Erm, Buffy?  Could you get off of me?” 

Buffy snarled at him, leaving him in no doubt that any further teasing would leave him maimed.  When she thought she’d made her point, she got up, offering him her hand.  He took it warily and got to his feet. 

“So, we’re all set then.  Harris, be at the airfield in 45 minutes.  Minimal kit – just standard retrieval.  We can’t afford to be overloaded.  We’ll be parachuting in so bear that in mind.  Come Buffy.  We need to collect our own gear.” 

Shooting a parting venomous glare at Harris, Buffy followed W out of the apartment and back to the SUV.   

“Oh this is going to be fun…yeah, right,” Xander whispered to himself, fingering his bruised neck. 

******************************** 

Spike Blond had finally settled down to rest for a couple of hours.  Since he’d left the hut he’d been familiarising himself with the jungle surrounding the compound.  It was very dense, the overhead foliage sufficiently interwoven to allow him protection from the sun during the daylight hours.  As he made a mental inventory of his arsenal he remembered that he was still wearing the gossamer-thin sheath over his skin that G assured him would allow some sun exposure without the whole spontaneous combustion thing. 

He’d set traps fashioned from vines and branches to alert him of anyone approaching before they got too close for him to escape.  His present vantage point allowed him to view almost 360 degrees as he’d climbed about 20 feet up into a sprawling tree of unknown genus.  There was a natural cradle concealed by the large, waxen leaves in which he’d bedded down.  It wasn’t silk sheets and down comforters, but it would do until he formulated a plan.  He couldn’t rely on a rescue team since he’d agreed to the mission on those terms; he could only rely upon himself, fists and fangs.  Back to the good old days when rending and ripping was his main joy and raison d’être. 

Drifting off into sleep he held to the mental image he had of his love, back in Sunnydale, her glorious blonde locks and simmering green eyes making his lips curl into a smile even as he slept. 

*********************************** 

They’d finally got on board the jet, the pilot not even batting an eyelid as W asked him to file a false flight plan.  She gave him the correct coordinates of the island where he had recently dropped Spike Blond and Faith Layer and he smiled knowingly, nodding his consent to be a part of the rebellion. 

There’d been no untoward happenings so far; it was just a matter of waiting until they arrived then hopefully Buffy’s link with William would give them a heads up on what to do next.   

With nothing else to be done, and the events of the past few days catching up with her, Buffy had retired to the bedroom, which still held a lingering scent of William’s cologne, and was now deep in sleep. 

************************************* 

Spike Blond murmured in his sleep; “that’s right, kitten……mmmm, lower, harder……” 

*Buffy was nibbling at his pale flesh, biting hard enough to bruise but not to break the skin.  She’d started on his left ear-lobe, licking at first and sucking it into her hot little mouth until he’d begged her to touch him.  She’d smirked at him, shaking her head and darting her tongue out to lick her lips as she moved further down his body.  His neck was stretched out, the cords at the side standing out against the smoothness of his skin.  She mouthed down along their length, running her teeth along nipping and licking as she slid across to the swell of his shoulder.  Her bare nipples burned a path along his chest as she rubbed against him.  His cock ached to feel her warmth but she arched away from his bucking groin, standing up from the bed to look at the form of her vampire lover as he writhed and pulled at the chains binding his hands and feet to the bedposts.* 

Buffy was sighing with pleasure as she dreamed of William, her body writhing on the bed in ecstasy as she became aroused. 

Spike was bucking his hips in his sleep as he ached to get some release for his painful erection. 

Both were panting, unknowingly synchronised, as the jet got closer and closer to the island. 

*Spike almost begged as Buffy brought her mouth near to his cock, blowing gently on the tip as it bobbed in front of her face.  Still she refused to touch him!  She turned her back to him and straddled his torso, her butt jiggling in front of his face, just out of reach.  She bent over so that her breasts brushed his thighs and he moaned as his tender cock briefly had the pleasure of skin on skin before she sat up and tossed her hair back to brush his face.  The vixen glanced over her shoulder at his anguished face, laughing at the way he strained his hands against the chains.  “Buffy!  Bloody well get on with it…I’m dying here!”  She placed her finger on her lips and shushed him.  “Bad Spike!  Now I’m going to have to make you pay a penalty….” 

She leaned forwards again, inching backwards so that her ass was right in front of Spike’s face, the scent of her arousal driving him crazy and causing his mouth to water.  “For being a bad boy, you need to wash me……because I’m dirty…..” 

Spike needed no second asking; as she pressed herself further towards him he plunged his long, cool tongue deep inside her pussy, stabbing it in and out as she wriggled  against his mouth.  Her sounds of pleasure ricocheted off the walls as he brought her to the brink of orgasm and as he withdrew his pink weapon to flick at her clitoris she screamed his name, arching her back so she covered them with a curtain of blonde tresses.  It was too much for him, he gave up pretending to be shackled and ripped the manacles from the bedposts with a resounding crack, throwing her forwards on her hands and knees as he raised himself to kneel between her thighs, kicking off the remains of the shattered chains from his ankles as he did so.  With no warning he rammed his cock deep inside her body, the fluttering of her inner walls gripping him as he did so.  He wasn’t in the mood for gentle – he wanted to possess her utterly, dominate her.  He started up with a pounding rhythm as he kept one arm wrapped around her waist, the other fisted in the hair at the back of her neck as he forced her to submit to him.  His demon gloried in the feeling, his vampire visage coming to the fore as he roared his pleasure. 

Buffy pressed hard back against him as he thrust into her, little cries of pleasure falling from her lips as her greedy pussy engulfed the swollen length of him.  “More; I want more,” she panted at him.  Keeping up the torturous rhythm, he raised her upper body and lifted the hair away from her neck.  As he bit down into her flesh, he snaked the hand around her torso down towards her mound and slipped his finger inside her moist folds to pinch her sensitised clit.  Buffy erupted around his dick as she came again, fiercely, milking him as her muscles clenched without mercy.  The iron grip of her channel and the ripples coursing through her tipped him over to spill spurts of cool, salty semen deep inside her warmth as he drank from her neck.   

Slowly spiralling down from the heights of ecstasy, Spike collapsed forwards onto his woman’s limp and panting body, caressing her and wrapping her in the embrace of his arms, his legs, his lips.*   

“Buffy, I love you…..” he whispered in his sleep, the damp patch on his trousers and coating his hand testament to how real the dream had been. 

“I love you too…so much…” Buffy murmured, eyes still closed in slumber,  as she settled down further into the mattress, the beat of her heart slowing as her thighs unclamped from around her sticky fingers.

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