License To Thrill

Chapter 1

The classic Aston Martin DB5 pulled up outside the nondescript facade of the Magic Box, Sunnydale. With an ease that spoke of long practice, the muscled forearm of the driver engaged the parking brake and flicked the gearlever to neutral. Turning off the ignition, the platinum blonde removed the keys and opened the door. Swinging his lean legs out of the low bucket seat, he smoothed nonexistent creases from his Saville Row suit and removed a miniscule speck of fluff marring the perfection of the cloth. His hands were masculine but manicured, not overly so, just clean and with well-trimmed nails. As he gripped the keys in his left hand he pushed off the seat with his right, the expensive watch with its luminous dial glinting in the moonlight.

Stepping away from the silver sleekness of his automobile, he pushed the door closed behind him and without looking back aimed the key-fob at the car and clicked. The doors locked with a satisfying thunk and a faint buzz could be heard around the vehicle as though the air surrounding it was ionised. An unfortunate moth, drawn to the light the car reflected, fizzled out as it hit the electrical current running through the bodywork. This was no ordinary car.

And this was no ordinary man. Car and man were well matched; both sleek and silver, both with an elegant exterior belying the barely restrained primal energy within. Pocketing the keys and adjusting the silk tie at his neck, he wore a wry smile on his face as he pushed open the door and entered the unremarkable interior of the shop.

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

The blonde behind the counter looked up and her heart lurched in her chest; she’d known he was coming in, W had advised all senior staff to expect him. But still, the sight of him striding with feline grace through the dusty interior of this simple building, hands casually thrust in the pockets of his trousers, cheekbones razor-sharp in the unforgiving light of the fluorescents above, she forgot to breathe. If she died now with his features imprinted on her memory - it would be enough. Almost enough.

"Ah, Miss Summerpenny, my night is now complete. Your beauty sings to my heart!"

Clasping her delicate hand in his, he slowly raised it to his lips, kissed the back and then pressed his lips to her palm, all the while holding her eyes in a diamond-blue gaze that turned her insides into molten lava. The intensity of the moment made her gasp, her nipples sprang to attention against the rough lace of her bra and the miniscule piece of lace masquerading as her knickers was soaked with the flow of her sexual juices.

God, she had absolutely no control over her body whenever he was around. And he obviously had no idea of the way he made her feel.

Shaken by the emotions he stirred up inside her, she instantly became all business and snatched her hand from his cool grasp. Everything about him was ice-cold; he was a 00 agent - his poise legendary, nothing could affect him. Male and female suitors alike pursued him, each intent on breaching his icy shell and being the one to melt his reserve. None came close. Hell, he would fuck anything that moved and if he had to shoot them in the head in the morning, they died happy. It was all just part of the job to him: nobody touched his soul.

That was going to change: she intended to be his salvation.

But he only saw her as the provider of missions, arranger of travel, and supplier of false passports. He didn't see her as a woman - at least not as a desirable woman. Sure, he flirted with her, threw innuendoes her way all the time with a tilt of his head and a smirk on his face. But he never intended to follow through, and that really pissed her off!

She knew her figure was good and no way was she bad looking, in fact she was asked out every day working in the shop which fronted for the mission. She had even dated a few of the hopeful guys who had plucked up the courage to speak to her. But they knew by the time the date had ended there was no more to be had. Her heart belonged to another. Despite everything she tried - hypnotism, cognitive therapy, alcohol, and one memorable time with marijuana, it still came back to this..........she wanted only him. Every other male was a pale imitation of this perfect specimen of manhood; well demonhood.

Emerging from her reverie, she snapped her slack jaw shut. He had removed his jacket, slinging it over one shoulder as he strolled towards the back of the shop. There was an entrance to the secret chamber below to the left of the bookshelves; the downstairs housed the brains of the operation. Her heart did a two-step when he glanced back over his shoulder to wink at her before disappearing into the darkness.

Ok, now she needed to pay a visit to the little girl's room.

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

"Come in, Agent 00666, sit down. There's been a development, and we need you to check it out."

"But of course, W. I'm at your................service."

He swept his gaze over her pale features, taking in her glorious red hair and huge eyes. It was strange having a female boss, even though he'd always been a huge fan of womanly wiles; but she was a decent woman, straightforward and intelligent, and he had a healthy respect for her.

Willow became annoyed at the smirk on his face. Typical man, five minutes in a room with a woman and they think they hold the stage. Boy would he be shocked if he knew she didn't even drive stick; she was more likely to ask his sister out than him, but it'd hurt his manly pride so she didn't enlighten him. In point of fact, she'd met his sister - Tara she recalled - and she was a definite hottie in a very understated way, albeit an undead one. She must ask him for her number.

Knocking back the glass of diet coke, she slammed the glass down on the table.

"The mission's this………...two days ago a consignment of holy water was taken from under our noses. No warning, no coded messages - just gone. Now you know the fight's escalating against the enemy and a key part of that is our ability to take them by surprise. I'd say that was now a thing of the past. They know what we were planning to do - we no longer have the means to carry that out. Global drenching of the vampire population of Sunnydale is off the menu."

Taking a drag on the cheroot held between her middle fingers on her right hand, Willow kicked back her chair and placed her well-polished shoes on the desk in front of her. Fixing the agent with a steely glare she spoke harshly, "The thing is, 00666, we're running out of options. The ball of sunlight thing - washout; turns out garlic is just a folk-tale and hardly any of them sleep on sanctified soil."

"We need the inside knowledge on the vamps of this town...and being one of them, you're just the man, figuratively speaking."

The pale figure of the vampire nodded in acknowledgement. Sprawling decadently in the leather chair, he spread his legs wide, lifting his right foot to rest on the left knee and ran his hand seductively up from ankle to knee where his hand now rested, a distracting pointer for W’s determined stare.

"You know me, W, I always like to oblige a lady."

That grin could ignite damp tissue with its spark. Willow batted for the other team but even her pulse raced at the blatant sexuality this being exuded. Her eyes raked his body, taking in the chiselled features, the strong hands and the muscular yet compact physique. Heck, she could appreciate a fine fiddle, even if she didn't want to play a tune on it.

Dragging herself away from her aesthetic appreciation, she continued. "Oh, please, 00666, - save your misogynistic posturing for the mission. We need you to infiltrate the local cadre of vampires and work against them from the inside. You're unknown here, and if you can tone down your more flamboyant tendencies, I'm sure you'll soon be a part of the action."

Again with the double entendre! He seemed to be holding her tongue captive and snaking it out at his will. The raised right eyebrow fuelled her righteous anger.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go and report to G; he's been working on a number of anti-sunlight devices which may prove useful and also has a unique twist on the vampire reflection issue."

With supple grace, the spy uncoiled from the club chair and shook himself. Settling his clothing around him like a second skin, he leaned over W to collect his discarded jacket, exposing her to the raw magic of his scent. She inhaled sharply, in spite of herself, and found that she was leaning towards him. She took in the salty tang of his skin, cooler than her own, and the faint metallic scent of blood that marked him as something other than human. God, he was a sexual predator!

Thankfully, once the jacket was hooked carelessly over his little finger he backed away and with a swirl of expensive cloth he stalked out of the door.

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

Stepping across the corridor and swiping his key card along the entrance pad, he swung open the heavy door that marked the inner sanctum of the entire operation. Everything past this door was classified "Eyes Only" and had a Grade 1 clearance requirement. Naturally, he was accredited with both. Striding purposefully through the armoured doorway, he entered the body scanner which registered him in a cold, dispassionate voice as "Room temperature - genre, vampire; retinal scan identity confirmed - Agent 00666; licensed to kill."

"Thanks ever so," he muttered and moved further into the hangar-sized room.

"Ah, 00666! You're here at last; I've been expecting you. Well, come on, come on - don't stand about. I need you over here."

"Didn't realise you felt that way about me, G. I mean, I know we're close and all..."

"What? Oh, I see - humour! Your charm won't work on me, old man; I'm immune. So, to work. First, give me your watch."

Holding out his left hand whilst rummaging through a drawer with his right, the chief provisioner tutted to himself. Locating the replacement timepiece, he looked up again, just in time to see the vampire reaching towards a bottle of scotch on the workbench.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" he shouted, causing the spy to still his hand. "It isn't what it seems; it'll melt the skin off you quicker than a blowtorch on butter."

The vampire retracted his hand slowly. "Good call, G."

Swapping the watch he had removed from his right wrist for the one being held out by the master provisioner, he checked the usual functions and tilted his head in a quizzical manner.

"Pay attention, 00666. The watch is standard issue, of course, but with a few enhancements especially for this mission. Now - pull out the winder – carefully. Don't jerk it. See? Garrotte wire, handy for beheading the undead beggars...."

Noticing the raised eyebrow, G continued, “No disrespect intended, old man."

Smoothly, he continued to enumerate the extras he'd introduced; "Rotate the bezel anticlockwise - the display becomes an infrared detector calibrated to seek room-temperature bodies; rotate the other way - aaah, I see you hear it..."

William had immediately covered his ears with his hands, inadvertently bringing the source of the painful noise closer to his eardrums, and seemed incapable of speech. G reached up to his right wrist and flicked the bezel of the watch. The vampire's tense stance relaxed and straightening up he fixed G with an icy stare.

"Sorry about that - we needed a final test on the frequency and you being the only vampire agent... seems to work spiffingly! Too high for human ears but as we can see, vampire hearing is more acute. Absolutely marvellous!"

The look on the vampire's face would have frozen mercury.

After checking out the equipment he would need for the mission, standard and also some specifically designed to deal with vampires, William headed back up into the main store. Stopping by the counter, he leaned over it scanning left and right. There was no sign of Miss Summerpenny, damn it.

Despite his self-enforced isolation from women, there was something about the blonde PA that piqued his interest. Over the years they'd flirted shamelessly and his hands had brushed her flushed skin on more than one occasion. He could tell she was interested - his enhanced senses picked up her racing heartbeat, quickened breathing and not least the aromatic scent of her arousal whenever they met. If it wasn't for his "never fish in the company pond" rule, he would love to take her for a spin. What a delectable creature! With a smirk he sauntered out of the door.

Buffy Summerpenny was on her way back from the ladies room when she spotted William striding across the floor to the counter. She was still flushed from her restroom activities. Damn him – it wasn’t fair! He made her crazy with desire and after his azure blue eyes had flashed veiled promises of sexual fulfilment earlier, well - simply put she had an itch and it demanded to be scratched. So she had scratched it, biting her lip to silence her moans of ecstasy and all the time seeing his sculpted face behind her closed eyelids.

After adjusting her clothing, smoothing her hair and splashing her face with cold water to stem the flush of post-orgasmic satisfaction creeping across her cheeks, she returned to her station. Seeing him nearby caused an atomic reaction in her panties despite her release of moments before and she came to an abrupt halt to watch him, her hand over her mouth. After pausing for a moment, he exited the shop and she sighed deeply, disappointment at his departure clouding her mood.

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Chapter 2

36 HOURS LATER

THE BRONZE - SUNNYDALE

The beat of the music made his body hum, an unfamiliar sensation since his heart had stopped beating over 100 years before. He stood and watched the clientele of the club, his pale form swathed in shadows, taking stock of the bodies swaying, jumping and stomping to the rhythm of the live band on stage.

He mentally checked his supplies; he was wearing unfamiliar garb - black denim jeans, Doc Marten boots, black t-shirt topped with a red button-down shirt and finished off with a full length black leather duster that mimicked his body's natural sleekness as he moved. He adored undercover work - whenever he donned the costume of another character he lost himself in the subterfuge and virtually became the imaginary person whose persona he assumed. In the field he was no longer William, elegant and cultured man-about-town; he became a killing machine there to get the job done and get out.

To complete his kit he also had the watch, a phial of holy water, the JD with the quirky glass bottle, invisible gloves to protect his skin from the blowtorch-through-butter effect of the said bottle and enough stakes to peg out a marquee. Secreted in his duster were also a number of other handy gadgets supplied by G.

To infiltrate the primary cadre of vampires in Sunnydale he had to be bad. He was, of course, utterly bad by nature, but as a result of a strictly self-imposed ban against eating humans he restricted his violent tendencies to the rampant and often extremely dim demon population. In order to become a vital part of the resident vampire in-crowd he would have to submerge that completely un-vampire like aspect of his character and give off a ‘bad to the bone’ vibe. Assuming the role, he set his features to show a disdainful sneer, sardonic and threatening, and clasped the bottle of Bud he had purchased earlier loosely in his left hand.

Pushing himself away from the wall he’d been slouching against, he shouldered his way towards the bar area through the crush of people dancing. The majority of the crowd were human, their scent and heartbeats overwhelming his vampire senses. Here and there he sensed a variety of demons as he continued his swagger, scanning the crowd as he slid through with the ease of a predatory shark. Eventually, he picked out the concentrated essence of around 20 vampires, all grouped together. That was his target, and if he sensed them it was a certainty that they were sensing him right back.

He stopped his stride and leaned against a pillar whilst he drank down the rest of the Bud, considering his next step. It was almost a given that in order to gain entry to the group he would have to face down and eliminate at least one of the top-ranking vampires. His demon revelled in the thought - 'bring it on'. His plan of action became simple - swagger in, knock down the bugger with the biggest wrinklies and don't turn to dust in the process.

Throwing the empty bottle at the wall he stalked forwards - slap bang into collision with the petite form of Buffy Summerpenny.

Shocked hazel eyes looked up to meet shocked blue. Buffy held her breath; his hands were on her arms, steadying her from the impact, and his gaze was burning into her. ‘My god, does he look edible… and he’s touching me. Be cool. Be cool!!’ The platinum hair was slicked back with gel, a few unruly curls still present at the nape of his neck. Dressed all in black save for the red shirt that peeked from under the leather duster, he oozed sex appeal and bad boy attraction. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her breath coming in short gasps; she couldn't tear her eyes away from the intensity of his stare.

'Damn', he thought, 'she needs to be told not to blow my cover.’ The vampire group were well within hearing range; he needed to take charge. Holding her arms tightly he fixed his eyes on hers and willed her to play along. He was extremely aware of her racing heartbeat, which could have been caused by fear, but the accompanying scent of her arousal told a different story.

Buffy took a deep breath and tried to drag a sensible thought out of her brain. She stopped, mouth open, as he tilted his head and purred at her...

"The name's Blond - Spike Blond."

She stared at him, mouth still agape, the caramel sounds of his rich voice washing over her. Puzzled she scanned his features then quickly realised he must be undercover. He hadn't used his real first name but his fieldwork alias.

"So, gorgeous, how's about you and me find a quiet corner and get..................acquainted," he drawled, curling his tongue up behind his teeth. He'd sensed the vampire group avidly following the exchange between him and the, now he came to think about it, scandalously dressed female in his arms. He needed to get her further away from them; if he simply let her go it would be a sign of weakness and the mission would fail there and then. He made a show of giving her the once-over. “That’s a nice little nothing you’re almost wearing.” He tugged her surprisingly compliant body towards him and dipped his head to capture her lips.

Buffy gasped against his kiss. This was the wicked mouth that played such an energetic role in her nightly dreamathon. She felt his lips quirk in a brief grin then he was whispering against her, his tongue moving as he spoke into her mouth. Her eyes widened at the surge of moisture that pooled in her tiny panties; nothing had ever had this effect on her. Without thought she pressed her flushed chest against his cool, muscular torso. William was quietly murmuring instructions, she realised, as she focused on him as best she could, no easy task due to the sensation of his cold tongue tantalising her lips as he vocalised softly.

Mentally shaking herself, Buffy pieced together what he had actually been telling her. He was explaining the mission, telling her that he had to come across as a badass vampire and needed her to play the victim. Play the victim? She was already there, helpless to do anything other than follow him even to her death.

Bonelessly she looked up into his pacific-blue eyes as he pushed her away from him, holding her upper arms. He lifted his left eyebrow and tilted his head, questioning her as to whether she understood. Buffy nodded slightly, and he curved his mouth into an answering smile causing her heart to miss a beat.

Buffy drew in a cleansing breath – big mistake -- she just became more dizzy because now she’d inhaled the scent of him; leather, alcohol, cigarettes, and William. Her legs began to tremble.

Concerned that the blonde in his arms was overcome with fear, he turned her so that she was at his side; his left arm around her shoulders and pulling her close against him, his right arm wrapping across his own body to clasp her tighter. Bending his head he whispered in her ear “Don’t worry, luv. I’m going to take good care of you.” She melted.

William marvelled at the sensations the petite woman at his side was causing throughout his body. It wasn’t just a sexual attraction, he knew what that felt like. He loved sex; if there was a black belt for it, he’d have ten. He’d slept with hundreds, possibly thousands of women in the course of his career as a spy – all for the mother country of course. He’d been subjected to the intricate and complex seductions of the best Mata Haris in the business, but this feeling was very different. He almost felt his heart beat as she snuggled against him, which of course was impossible.

Her scent was causing him problems in the groin area. At first he was worried that she was terrified, about to pass out; his enhanced sense of smell could differentiate many human emotions and there was definitely a tang of terror in her aroma. But the overriding scent, to his surprise and, he admitted, his delight, was one of extreme sexual arousal. As he analysed her reaction, his cock was ahead of him and was standing proud and ready, causing him to shift uncomfortably as the head rubbed against the zipper of his jeans.

He was quite perturbed at his lack of control; he was on a mission for god’s sake, he couldn’t afford to lose it and certainly not with his boss’s PA! But she was something special, a mix of shy and naïve girl and hot fuck-me woman that was making him harder than he’d thought possible.

He glanced down at her, taking in what she wore. Well, almost wore – she was as naked as you could get in public without being arrested. Her blonde hair was curled and disarrayed as if she’d just tumbled out of bed, huge hazel eyes outlined in smoky grey kohl and layers of black mascara. A faint blush graced her cheeks and décolletage, but whether this was artificial or a result of her arousal, he couldn’t tell – which in itself was a triumph. Her lips were red and moist, her pink tongue snaking out every now and then to lick along the swollen flesh left in the wake of his earlier attentions. Flicking his hungry gaze along her body he took in the flimsy halter-top in a rich ruby red shade; it was held around her neck with a thin drawstring, likewise at her waist and he could feel her bare back beneath his arm as he held her to him. Moving further down her lithe form he marvelled at the miniscule leather skirt, black and slashed to the hip on the right-hand side, it barely came below the cheeks of her ass. Bare legs were sun kissed and gleaming, stretching long and lithe from beneath the skirt to end in four-inch spike heels, peep-toed with straps which wrapped around to halfway up her muscular calves. He shook himself to break the spell, and started forwards seeking the stairs to the upper level. Up above the crowd they could hide in a dark corner whilst he outlined his plan. Thoughts of hiding in a dark corner renewed the painful restriction in his pants, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through the crowd.

On the upper level of the Bronze the music was muted, although still loud and thumping. There was hardly any light here and William allowed his demon to flash in order to enhance his sight, checking out the deepest recesses for an appropriate spot. In the far corner, away from the stairs and tucked below the sloping eaves of the roof, there was a large club chair hidden on one side by a wall. That would suffice. He strode towards it, releasing Buffy from his embrace but sliding his left arm across her back to grab her right hand and carry her along with him.

Sinking into the depths of the chair William, or more accurately Spike, in this persona, pulled Buffy roughly onto his lap adding a lascivious leer for good measure. He had to make it convincing; be the Big Bad for any watching golden eyes. Buffy sat down on him hard, not expecting the tug, which caused her to topple. Despite himself, William groaned and closed his eyes in an attempt to master his emotions.

He missed, therefore, the delighted smile of surprise presently gracing the face of the blonde woman. He wanted her. Hell, she’d come out tonight with one purpose, and one purpose only – to get laid. No reason that had to change now, was there? In fact, now she had him cornered there was no way he was leaving without her getting a glimpse of the good stuff. She’d drunk enough beer to knock out her conscience and set free her little devil; and the little devil had tied up her inhibitions with a tiny red thong.

Buffy put out her right hand and used it to push herself along so that her back was against the arm of the chair. Another groan from the vampire – caused no doubt by the fact that her hand had found the hardest part of his body to push against. Teasing him, Buffy removed her hand but not before she had stroked it lightly along the denim-clad bulge in his groin.

“So,” she whispered into his ear, “exactly what do you want me to do?”

Spike looked up at her, his head tilted to one side. Was she playing with him? Getting more interesting by the minute. He raised his scarred left eyebrow quizzically then pressing his tongue behind his upper teeth, he grinned at her. If she was playing, he’d just decided to up the ante.

“Well, honey, we’d better start with a kiss – you know, realistic, in case anyone’s watching.”

Without giving him time to think, Buffy enthusiastically smashed her lips against his, threading her fingers through his hair to clamp him to her. Spike sat for a second, stunned by her actions, his arms out at his sides. Then instinct kicked in and he embraced her tightly, crushing her barely covered breasts against his hard chest. Buffy moaned into his mouth as lips and tongues sucked and his rock hard cock threatened to burst out of his jeans.

“Fuck, Buffy!” he muttered when she drew back to take a gasping breath. Buffy smiled, looking at him from beneath lowered lashes.

“Mmmm. Realistic enough for you? I think I like this undercover work. Maybe I can ask W about going out in the field.”

Spike felt a stab of anger at the thought of Buffy playing secret agent with anybody else. He stashed the feeling away for later analysis and pulled Buffy back towards him for another tongue duel. Her lips were soft and yielding, and she interspersed her kisses with nips to his full lower lip with her sharp little teeth. God, he was so horny with this hellcat filling his lap. He really wanted to press her up against the wall and take her, hard.

He tried to make his voice normal, “You certainly show initiative, Summerpenny. Very promising.” But when he felt her hand caressing his shaft through the denim, that was it – he lost all control. Growling, he left her lips and in one smooth movement stood and pushed her back against the wall. Buffy gasped, her eyes wide with lust and a little edge of fear. The sound of the band from downstairs was throbbing through her body as she leant against the pillar behind her. Her heart was pounding, her mouth dry but her panties completely drenched, again.

She could glimpse shapes of couples huddled together in the darkness in various clinches. No one was paying any attention to them. She’d never had sex in a public place, but hell – he wanted her here and now and she wasn’t going to push him away. The little devil was well and truly in charge now. Damn propriety; she had to have him!

Reaching down between their bodies, Spike ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, spreading her legs apart with his knee. The heat of her pussy radiated towards his hand before he even touched the edge of her thong. As he moved further up the scent of her arousal flooded his senses. Nostrils flaring to drink in the aroma, his eyes flashed yellow as his demon demanded an outing. He moved the tiny gusset aside with his thumb and traced a finger along the cleft of her sex sending a frisson throughout her entire body. “You’re so wet, Buffy!” he hissed. She closed her eyes in ecstasy, breathing erratically as he continued to explore her with his cool digits. Slowly, Spike slid one finger inside her, then two, and started pumping them in and out rhythmically. At the same time he ground his hard-on against her leg in an effort to relieve the ache in his groin. Buffy was panting now, her face flushed and her mouth open as she moaned softly.

Unable to hold back, Spike hoisted her further up the wall and quickly moved in to grab her legs and wrap them around his waist. The spiked stiletto heels of her shoes dug into his ass arousing him even further. Buffy’s arms were wrapped around his neck, her fingers twisting and kneading his hair. Reaching back down, he undid his belt, the jangling sound as the buckle fell open causing yet another flood of juices to pool in her sodden curls. The sound of the zipper intensified her arousal. She needed him inside her. Leaning forward, she brought her mouth alongside his ear and whispered, “Fuck me! Now!”

Spike’s demon growled as he ripped away the panties impeding his entrance and with one thrust his cock was deep inside her. Buffy yelled out as she immediately spiralled into a mind-numbing orgasm. He stilled as he savoured the feeling of her tight pussy rippling around him, allowing her to calm even as he longed to pummel her body against the wall until she screamed his name. When she finally opened her eyes and looked at him, she saw the face of the demon shift into the features of the man who starred every night in Buffovision.

Fixing him with her hazel eyes she growled, “Again.”

Spike shoved her back against the wall, one arm wrapped around her to keep her in place whilst he slipped his free hand to the front and under her top to caress her swollen nipples. Delighting at the feel of her firm and generous breast in his hand, he began fucking her slowly withdrawing almost entirely out of her fire then pushing all the way back in. When she threw her head back in pleasure, her eyelashes fluttering, he bent his head to her neck and nibbled and sucked alternately. She groaned and writhed against him, almost sending him over the edge.

“I want you to bite me.”

Spike wasn’t sure he’d heard her right; she wanted him to bite her? Licking up to her ear he whispered, “What was that, Buffy? You want me to bite you? Like this?” He nipped at the delicate flesh with blunt human teeth and she pressed his head closer to her.

“No, bite me. With your fangs. Pleeease…….” She almost keened the last word, pulling his cock further into her depths with her legs wrapped around him.

Spike couldn’t help himself; his legendary control had gone AWOL and his demon needed no further encouragement. Buffy fluttered open her eyes and looked at him, fascinated, as she watched his fangs descend and his brow ridges slide into place.

She gazed into his golden eyes and said, slowly and deliberately, “BITE. ME.”

With vampire speed his fangs were buried in her flesh, the pain of the bite quickly replaced with pleasure as every draught he took of her blood tugged at her pussy, intensifying the feeling of his cock deep inside her moving at the same time he drank her down. God, this was beyond erotic! She had no words to describe the feeling of being pressed against his hard body, full of his long and thick cock, his fangs and tongue playing a symphony on the tender skin at the juncture of her shoulder and neck.

The combination of her tight passage, the taste of her warm coppery blood and the little kitten mewls she was making as he pounded into her brought him to the brink quicker than he could have imagined. As he reached the crescendo of his orgasm he withdrew his fangs and with one final thrust came hard, sending spurt upon spurt of milky semen rocketing into her. Buffy clenched around his shaft as she hurtled over the edge with him, screaming his name as she came. Of course, the name she screamed was “William”; Spike was just his alias.

As Buffy panted against his neck, Spike/William took the time to lick at the punctures he’d left, cleaning away all trace of her delicious blood, savouring it. He forced the demon down inside him, struggling for control as the taste of her lingered on his tongue. God, his cock was getting hard again!

Buffy’s eyes widened as she felt him grow inside her. Bingo! The rumour about vampire recovery time wasn’t a myth.

“So it’s true what they say about you guys?”

Delighted with the discovery she wriggled against him. He looked up at her flushed face and the smile playing round her mouth.

“Wanna go another round, Big Bad?”

“Buffy,” he growled, “goddammit, what have you done to me? Got to have you again, right now”.

“No, William. I’ve got to have you. Sit,” she commanded him.

Shocked at the turnaround, he stared at her before backing away to the chair. He didn’t want to lose contact with her heat and managed to sit with her still impaled on his hardness. She immediately began moving up and down his shaft, with soft little gasps and sighs of pleasure leaving her lips. She never took her eyes from his, not wanting to forget how he looked during this undoubtedly once in a lifetime sexfest, fuel for her fantasies for years to come.

He darted his tongue out as she rode him, licking his lips before catching his lower one between his perfect teeth, the sight of his face as he started heading to another climax caused a flood of moisture to leave her body where they were joined. Buffy’s breath caught as she drank in the beauty of this being. The cool shell was long gone and he was even more gorgeous in his abandon. She reached down between their bodies to touch his cock as she slid up and down its length, slick with their mingled juices and warmed by her heat. As her hand caressed him along with her warm pussy, Spike moaned her name hoarsely “Buffy, luv, gonna come if you carry on with that.”

Buffy clenched tighter along his length and moved her hand away and up to his chest to find his nipples. Tweaking them each in turn so that they were hard and puckered she leaned into him catching his lower lip in a bite and whispered against his mouth, “Come for me, baby”.

Spike growled and wrapped his arms around her, settling his hands on her hips and gripping them tightly. Thrusting up into her he used his hands to bounce her up and down to meet every movement. When he felt the tremors start deep inside her, any thoughts of finesse vanished and they just fucked, both of them moving instinctively to obtain release, simultaneously toppling over into ecstasy and muffling their screams in a bruising kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3

Minutes later, Buffy was still panting and still full of vampire.

“Does that thing ever go down?” she wondered aloud. Spike chuckled.

“It does appear to have developed a mind of its own tonight. Sorry about that, Buffy”

“Oh, I’m not complaining, no complaints here! Very satisfied, full to the brim even.”

Spike raised his eyebrow and grinned at her. Moving slightly to look over her shoulder, he spied a couple of the vampire group coming up the stairs.

“We’ve got company.”

He moved back to look into her eyes and beckoned her down to him. She moved her lips to his and he felt himself harden again. God, she must be a witch to affect him this way. Subduing his erection with great force of will, he pulled her head to one side and whispered instructions. Spike was back in mission mode. She breathed her agreement to him and shifting his features to that of the vampire once more, he sank his teeth into his mark, drinking a little but letting a rivulet of blood trickle down her back, giving the watching vampires the impression that he’d drunk his fill and was revelling in the destruction. Buffy had reached inside his duster as he pierced her neck and retrieved one of G’s little gadgets; the suppressor was the size of a band-aid and when attached to human skin gave off a false reading mimicking the slowing and final stopping of the heart. Activating the device, she allowed her body to become limp and as he felt her false heartbeat falter and then peter out, Spike withdrew his fangs and pushed her off to one side. He was careful to ensure that her real heartbeat was strong and steady as he laid her against the chair arm, withdrawing his cock from her depths as he did so.

Making a big show of wiping his mouth of her blood and licking his fingers with relish, he turned towards the vampires who were staring at his “kill” and his open flies with equal longing. ‘Bloody minions’ he thought ‘no ambition but fuck and feed’.

Zipping himself up, he swaggered towards the fledglings. “Had a good look? Need a few pointers?” he drawled “Who do you kill for fun around here, anyway?”

The vampire pair looked at each other and then back at the master vampire, who radiated menace. Turning, they headed off down the stairs checking nervously behind them to make sure he was following. Spike strode purposefully along behind them, plotting in his mind how to approach and infiltrate the group. As he came into view of the top dog he grabbed the two minions from behind and squeezing them both around the neck with each hand, ripped their heads off. As the dust cleared, Spike wiped his hands of the remains and fixing the cadre leader with his golden gaze he snarled, “Don’t appreciate you sending your rejects after me, mate. Disturbed my feed and my fun; I don’t like that.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have come to my town then. I don’t recall giving you leave to feed here.”

“I don’t recall asking for leave, mate.” Spike drawled, spitting out the last word insolently, lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag. “Your town? I feed where I want, take what I want, kill who I want. Don’t need permission, least of all from the likes of you……and what’s with the Anne Rice get up? Don’t you know that lace and ruffles are so last century? Not very flattering, mate.”

The leader of the pack rose from his seat, shrugging off the vampire women who clung to him like barnacles. He was taller than Spike, about 6’ 2” or so, stocky with a crew cut. His eyes blazed golden as he strode menacingly towards his challenger. Looking down on the smaller vampire, he snarled letting out a stench of decay that made Spike turn away. Thinking that he had the upper hand, the Master of the cadre grabbed Spike by his lapels and pulled him forwards. Looking up at the unappealing form, Spike grinned and said, “Now, now, mind you don’t bruise the leather.”

“How dare you presume to tell me what to do, I who am Master of Sunnydale! You will bow down to me and swear allegiance or you will be dust blowing in the wind!”

Figuring that now was the time to play nice, and that it would be a useful entrance to the gang, Spike bowed his head and muttered the age-old vow of allegiance. His demon loathed bowing down to this inferior, younger and less pure vampire and threatened to erupt but years of self-control helped him to beat it back into submission. Accepting the proffered vow, the vampire leader turned away and resumed his seat.

“I am Auric, your master, and you will live or die at my hand. You will feed when I give you leave and you will find pleasure when I say you can. If I choose to take my pleasure in you, you will submit willingly. You are the lowest of my minions and you will dedicate yourself to my service. Say it.”

“I am yours, Master, to live and die at your hand.”

“Go from my sight! I expect you to be back within the hour with whatever meagre belongings you wish to bring with you.”

“Yes, Master.”

Spike backed away from Auric, subservience oozing out of his pores. As he got out of earshot however he whirled in a spread of black leather and muttered “Wanker!”

Doubling back through the crowd, he leapt up to the upper storey to check on Buffy. She wasn’t there. He prayed she’d recovered enough to get away but didn’t have time to worry now; he had to concentrate on the mission. He breezed out of the Bronze and headed back to HQ to check in with W. Playtime was over.

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

Buffy had lain dead still on the chair for what felt like an eternity until she just had to move due to the pain in her cricked neck. She scanned the area and seeing nothing untoward she upped and scarpered as fast as she could. Her thighs were sticky with the remains of the earlier lovemaking session and she suppressed a thrill as she ran towards the Magic Box to report in. She needed to focus on her job first; there would be ample time to bask in her memories later. The first time she’d done any fieldwork. ‘Better make that wetwork,’ she snorted to herself, suddenly light-headed. ‘Whoops -- I must be dehydrated’

As she reached the shop she let herself in, using the key on her fob initially but then submitting to the retinal scan and fingerprint id that allowed her to enter the shop proper without being fried by the electrical security field. Her first port of call was the washroom to take a shower and change into the spare clothing she kept there. Resting her head against the tiled back wall of the cubicle as the warm water washed over her, she closed her eyes let her mind drift back to an hour or so ago when she’d first bumped into William – well Spike. The evening had certainly taken an unexpected turn. The thought of his eyes, so blue, so intense, caused a tightening in her womb and as she recalled the feeling of his arms wrapped around her, his cock buried deep within her, she moaned a little. She’d acted on impulse when he asked her to play along with him. Something took her over and turned her into a vixen…..and god, she had to do it again!

Dreams paled before the reality of William. In a daze, her hand reached to finger the crescent-shaped mark on her neck where he had bitten her; she’d wanted him to devour her, drink her essence! Just rubbing across the punctured skin caused tingles of pleasure to ripple through her, her knees buckling at the remembered ecstasy of her orgasms. And the knowledge that it was all part of the mission, just what a vampire was supposed to do to his victim, made her feel empty with loss. Had it just been a job? Her heart sank at the thought.

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

Racing across rooftops to avoid any unwanted conflicts with local demons, William soon came across the roof entrance to the Magic Box. It could only be opened by DNA identification so he vamped out and bit his wrist to allow a few drops of blood to fall on the scanner. Flashing a green acceptance light, the window opened and he leapt down to the floor below, coat billowing out behind him. Landing in a crouch, he scanned the area out of habit then stood and strode off towards W’s office; he didn’t have much time before he had to be back at the Bronze.

Barging into her office without knocking, William was a little put out to find her sitting behind her desk apparently waiting for him. Noting his frown, W pointed to the bank of monitors in the wall opposite one of which was linked to a camera on the rooftop. So, no magic – just science.

“Report, 00666. And make it snappy.”

“Well, I’m in. Disappointingly easy, actually. Tosser in charge thinks I’m a good little pet demon and wants me back at the ranch within the hour with my belongings. God, he makes me ashamed to share species with him. Jumped up little low-life scum; whoever turned him deserves a good stakin’ but not before being forced to spend a few weeks locked in a box with him.”

“Very colourful, William – but what do you plan to do next?”

“Get into the lair, find the holy water, use the holy water, not get splashed by the holy water; then a week or two nocturnal relaxing on a moonlit beach somewhere.”

“How amusing. I need specifics, 00666. It’s not enough to simply slay the main cadre – the original plan was to eradicate all the vamps in Sunnydale.”

“All in hand, W, I don’t want to show my cards too early – if I tell you how I’m going to do it, you won’t be astounded at my ingenuity and craft now will you?”

So saying, he tilted his head, smirked at her and headed to the door, coat a-swishing in his wake. As he got to the door he stopped, hand on the jamb.

Turning to face her, he said “About Miss Summerpenny; I ran into her earlier, had to use her as part of the “Big Bad” scenario to gain entry to the group. Bit her a little; no permanent damage but I’d be obliged if you could send someone to check on her.”

“No need. She’s here already; just gone to medical for a little patching up.”

“Oh; right then. I’d best be off – I’ll just drop in on G before I go; need a bit of help equipment-wise.”

“Report back as soon as you can, 00666. And William – take care.”

Nodding, the vampire left the room. Willow sighed and swilled the diet coke around in the heavy bottomed glass. Shaking her head, she reached into the bottom drawer and took out the vodka, topping up the glass.

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

Checking into the medical bay, Buffy caught sight of herself in the mirrored doors. She looked normal – no apparent change in her at all yet she had just reached the peak of her existence. Surely there should be, like a glowy outline or something? Ok, that would be the blood loss kicking in; insane thoughts and such. Sitting on the bed whilst the nurse swabbed her neck she felt a sense of loss. She didn’t really want his touch washed off her but W had insisted she had it seen to. She received some blood to replace that she’d lost and when she was all bandaged up, she smiled wanly at the nurse, promised to go straight to bed and rest, and then left.

She was on her way to see W to tell her she was going home when she bumped into William in the corridor. Her pulse raced when she saw him saunter round the corner; he was rubbing his temple as though he was fretting about something but she supposed he was just thinking about the mission.

Looking up as he sensed somebody approaching him, he couldn’t stop himself exclaiming in delight “Buffy! Are you all right? Let me see you? Have you had blood?”

He had taken hold of her arms and was tipping her neck to look for the wound. Buffy was taken aback by his obvious pleasure but she guessed it would be bad form to actually damage a colleague whilst on a mission, it would blot his copybook; that had to explain his reaction.

Replying to his questions she said, “Blood? Why, are you asking me to dinner, William?”

His look of horror was priceless. “You don’t think I’ve… you’re not…I didn’t feed you any of MY blood so you can’t be….”

Taking pity on him, she laughed “Relax; I know how you make a vampire. No, I’m still 100% woman – no demon in me at all.”

‘More’s the pity,’ he thought.

Smirking, he released her and as he walked away he whispered, “Maybe later?”

Her eyes widened and she spun round to catch his wink as he turned the corner.

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

After calling on G to collect the equipment he would need and arranging with him to have a refit crew available at his signal, William departed the Magic Box and headed back to the Bronze. As he walked he resumed the persona of Spike, once again altering his walk to a strut and fixing a disdainful sneer on his sculpted face. He’d grabbed together a duffle bag and a few black shirts, extra pair of jeans and boots. Wouldn’t do to turn up with nothing when he’d been gone for an hour.

Striding through the crowds still present, he found the vampires still fawning at Auric’s feet. Made him want to heave. Chucking his duffle bag amongst the crowd, he selected one of the newer fledglings and growled at him “You – take that and make sure it’s stashed safe.”

Looking fearfully at Auric, the fledgling hesitated, waiting for the imperceptible nod that said he could obey. Once given the go-ahead, he grabbed at the bag and scuttled off.

Sitting down on the chair vacated by the fledgling, he placed his booted feet on the table in front of him lighting up a cigarette as he did so. “So……when do we lair up? And where?”

“We go when I say so. And I’m still selecting my dinner. Go, find me an entrée.” Auric addressed this to Spike; he had to obey. If the plan was going to succeed, he needed the vampire to trust him absolutely. So, he would sacrifice the one for the good of the many and suffer the consequences of his actions later. This would be a test of his loyalty. Smirking, he rose from the chair, puffing on his cigarette. “Any preferences?”

“Hmmm; well you had a delectable little morsel earlier. Bring me a blonde.”

Spike swaggered off, his expression carefully disinterested. A quick sweep of the club produced a likely candidate for dinner. He kept his mind clinically detached as he picked her off from the herd, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. He took her by the hand, forcing down memories of doing the exact same thing to Buffy earlier, and led her into the waiting arms of the vampire leader. His face remained impassive as the demon drained her dry, not even a flicker of emotion as she cried out pitifully for help.

His hunger sated, Auric rose and leading his entourage away from the crumpled body of the young girl, he swept out of the club. William swore he would make him pay for his actions, for making him a party to the killing of an innocent girl and for reminding him of the reason he’d stopped killing humans.

As he walked he mused on the past; his first years as a vampire had been spent in mindless, wanton killing. He delighted in the power, the violence, the concept of “WANT, TAKE, HAVE”. But all that came to an end when his sister was attacked by a vamp and left for dead. No, not just any vamp, his cruel, sadistic grand-sire Angelus. His sister, a gentle cherubic girl, had searched for him for years and had finally found his address in London. Returning to his lodgings after a hunt as bloody and violent as every other night, he had found her slumped and almost dead, artfully arranged with a bunch of roses and a bible on her lap. Keening his grief he had swept her up in his arms and heard her whisper his name. Sensing her faltering heartbeat, he bit into his wrist and brought it to her mouth, forcing her to drink. He couldn’t lose her.

Later when she awoke, she cried for the loss of her innocence and tried to walk out into the daylight. William had to restrain her, tie her to the bathtub and make her eat. He brought fresh blood from the butcher but she refused to drink unless he promised her he would too. So they sat, drinking cold pig’s blood, side by side, both crying cold tears.

He hadn’t killed a human since that time – not by draining them anyway. He did, of course, have a licence to kill and in the course of his duty sometimes he became an assassin. But he never killed by biting.

Auric stopped walking at the entrance to a mansion, derelict of course, but the structure was sound. Minions scuttled in front of him, opening the door and ushering him inside followed by the rest of the vampires. As William approached the doorway, the tosser turned with a dramatic flourish and delivered a practiced speech.

“I give you leave to enter and leave this abode freely. I ask of you only two things – do not reveal its whereabouts to anyone not within the brethren and for every five kills you make, you bring one back as tribute. Now, give your name and promise and enter.”

Mentally shaking himself at the bloody idiocy of Auric, he looked the git in the eyes and said, “The name’s Blond, Spike Blond; I’ll honour the rules.”

He didn’t say which rules.

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

After three tedious days spent sussing out the players in the cadre, he was ready to execute his plan. Sending a pre-arranged signal to G by his watch transmitter, he laid all the groundwork then set out to bait the trap. Seeing as Auric styled himself “Master of Sunnydale” and was so far up his own arse he would need a ladder to get back out, he figured that he’d jump at the chance to flaunt a little, dress up and posture.

So the plan was simply this; butter up Auric, convince him that as a true Master he must accept vows of fealty from all the vampires in Sunnydale. A suitable gathering could be arranged for the ritual - the Bronze would be ideal for William’s plan. Once there, after G had hijacked the sprinkler system and replaced the water with holy water, all William needed to do was turn on the sprinkler system and not get wet. Simple. Easy. Effective.

So he spent time with Auric, pandering to his bloated ego, devouring his every word, listening in apparent rapt awe to his tales of death and destruction. He even had a few drinks with him, gagging every time he had to swig out of the same bottle. His breath was rank!

William loathed and despised the creature with a fiery passion. He was a friggin’ idiot, poncing about and tossing his shoulder length hair back with his lace-cuffed hands. And as it got nearer to the time when he was expected to present the poofter with his fifth victim as part of his entry fee, he had to speed things along. After dropping increasing larger hints about a ceremony without the no-brain catching on, he’d finally had enough and just came out with it.

“Auric, me old mate – don’t you think it’s about time you got some sort of respect round here? Now I’m new, so I might have this wrong, but you are supposed to be the Master of Sunnydale, right? So where is the tribute and honour due to you? The gifts of virgins? You know what, pal, you need to make your presence known with a statement. Now, if I were you I’d get a public oath of fealty set up, get all the vamps together and make ‘em swear loyalty. Any that don’t wanna play, then me and the boys ‘n girls will pick ‘em off right quick. What d’ya think?”

Well of course, Auric couldn’t resist the idea of ceremonials and despatched minions to summon every vamp, on pain of staking, to attend at the Bronze that very night to swear the oath of fealty. As Master of Sunnydale it was his right and his due so most of them would come, even if they were grumbling as they did so. William didn’t care as long as they turned up.

Telling Auric that he wanted to go and prepare the Bronze, he swept by HQ for a final talk to G and to check his equipment. He felt oddly disappointed when Buffy was nowhere to be seen. G advised him that all was ready, and answered his nonchalant enquiry about Buffy’s whereabouts with a curious look on his face.

Heading to the Bronze, William pondered his reaction to Buffy Summerpenny. Like it or not, he’d already bent fishery by-laws, poaching was on the menu and the company pond was going to see some more of his rod action. He’d loved the nibble earlier but now he was determined he was going to hook her and land her. And there he ended the fish analogy because it was, quite frankly, gross. The mission, focus on the mission.

In the end, it was upsettingly easy to crowd the Bronze with hapless vampires. Once all were inside, the doors were discreetly locked and guarded by 00 personnel. Only one demon would be walking out of there tonight; the janitor could sweep the others up in the morning. Ostensibly checking that the vampires were all settled and happy, and in the mood to party, he circulated amongst the crowd and shepherded them all to the best areas for the plan to work. He would start the deluge when all attention was on the vain prick on the stage.

Then, it was time. Auric swept into view swathed in a black cloak and stood, hands on hips, addressing the crowd. ‘Satin-lined velvet? What do you think you look like,’ William thought.

“Bloody hell, he’s gonna bore them to death, I’ll be doing them a favour putting them out of their misery,” William muttered, then cringed as he heard Auric refer to the assembly as his “immortal vassals”.

Right now, everyone was focused on the stage, most with lethal intent. William headed to the service area, slipped behind a pillar and raising G’s ingenious watch above his head, activated it. With a dull pop, a swathe of impermeable gossamer micro fibre shot out and enveloped him from head to foot and bonding instantly with his lithe form . Locating the sprinkler controls he pressed them on, and then stood back to watch the lethal effect of the fine spray of holy water on unprotected vamp skin. Hideous blisters smoked and burst, the air was alive with screams and howls as one after the other the vampires bubbled and combusted down to ash. It didn’t take long.

When the screams and sizzles had stopped, William activated his watch to scan the area for vampire life signs, figuratively speaking. He found only one. He was alone.

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

The cleanup wasn’t his problem; he left the team behind to take care of damage, soothe over any local doomwatchers that had come out of the woodwork. The owner of the Bronze would be well compensated for the use of his club. As he exited the building, he sensed the approaching sunrise. He quickened his pace, and then broke into a loping run, reaching HQ just in time. He was surprised to see Buffy behind the counter.

Smiling to himself he sauntered over to her, head tilted to sweep his eyes across her form. She stopped her fingers from fiddling with the cash register and stared at him.

“Didn’t think to see you here so early, pet. Couldn’t sleep?”

She hadn’t slept well since that night at the Bronze. Every time she closed her eyes she felt his mouth on hers and saw his face contorted with passion. She writhed and bucked in her bed then woke up drenched with sweat, sobbing with loss.

William noticed her tired eyes and flushed skin. Her heartbeat was off the scale and she looked haunted. He moved closer and she took an involuntary step back. William was puzzled. Was she scared of him, because of the bite? He had to know; he had big plans for Miss Summerpenny that didn’t involve her scooting out of reach.

Vaulting the counter, he grabbed her arms to prevent her escape. Her eyes were tormented as they locked with his and tears began to spill out of them and roll down her beautiful face.

“Hush now, pet. What’s all this for? Is it me, did I frighten you? Buffy, please don’t cry, kitten, you’re tearing me up inside. Hush, hush.”

All the time he spoke to her he was rocking her gently and stroking her hair. Despite herself, she leant into his embrace and nuzzled his shoulder. She spoke against his chest, counting on his vampire hearing to translate.

“I hate it that I’m just another notch on the 00666 bedpost! I hate that the only way I could have you was to make the mission work. And I hate it that now I don’t want anybody else and I never will and you’ll be going away with some exotic beauty and I just can’t bear it.”

William laughed softly.

“Please don’t laugh at me. I know I’m pathetic but just for a little while I thought you really wanted me – ME! Plain Buffy Summerpenny. You seemed like you wanted me and not just for mission stuff … but I know it was just an act, and I thought it would be enough but now I can’t sleep and my dreams always end with you leaving me and I can’t stand the thought of never touching you again, never kissing you again…”

He’d been trying to interrupt her tirade and eventually managed to silence her by grasping her face and pulling her mouth to his for a soft and gentle kiss.

“Kissing me like this………” he whispered, “or like this…” as he sought her mouth again, this time harder and more intense, wrapping his tongue around hers and nibbling at her lips. Gasping for breath, Buffy looked up at him as he continued to gaze at her, his hands cupping her face.

“Buffy; I don’t know what happened that night. I never lose sight of the mission, I’m famous for it in fact; detached, impersonal, cold. But that night.” He shook his head, “that night I didn’t care about anything but holding you, being inside you, drinking you.”

Buffy drew in a little breath. Could this be true? He looked sincere enough, and god knows she wanted to believe him. Oh what the hell, she’d take anything he wanted to give. If this was a line…..reel her in. She was his, hook, line and sinker for as long as he wanted her.

Picking her up, he vaulted the counter again.

“Where are we going?” she queried.

“Thought we’d take the company ‘plane for a spin. Where’d you fancy, pet? Where do you want to paint the town red and see the sun come up – safely inside of course with curtains drawn. In fact, forget that. Where do you want to scandalise the populace when I make you scream so loud you set off alarms, ‘cause you won’t be leaving the room any time soon.”

She just smiled at him. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered as long as she was here in his arms.

As he swept out of the door he winked over Buffy’s shoulder at W who was standing at the back of the shop, hidden in shadows. She shook her head at him and grinned.

Goddamm spies; they always got the girl. And just once in a while, the girl got the spy.