by Spikesdeb

Chapter 1

W and G flopped on the sofa in her office, faces drawn with fatigue; Giles’ grizzled stubble vied with W’s flaming bird’s nest hair in the new look awards.  The sofa creaked as W tried to reach over to the desk without getting up, it was tantalisingly close, “Bugger!  Stupid bloody packet…” she muttered under her breath. 

She slid to the floor and leant forward to grab the packet of cheroots from the polished surface and scooted backwards to rest against the couch.  She glanced wearily up at G. 

“That’s it -- I’m officially numb.” 

G chuckled.  “I know what you mean.  I should really call in at the lab; no doubt that idiot Travers has blown up half of my experiments in my absence.  But I just can’t…” The two settled back in comfortable silence, their minds processing the details of the successful mission they’d just completed.   

Following the early curtailment of the wedding festivities, the five members of MI13 had helicoptered straight to the airbase and boarded the jet recently employed in the rescue of 00666.  The team’s kit had been stowed and the mission parameters were hot off the press and already awaiting them on the conference table.  It had been instantly sobering; a demon cult had kidnapped a five-month-old child to serve in a ritual sacrifice for their lord and master.  It made their blood run cold; well four of them, the fifth already being room temperature.  

W and G both began speaking at once.  “Did you see…”  “What about when…” 

“Sorry, G, you first…” 

“No, I insist – you were about to say?” 

“I don’t know; I’m too tired to remember.  Don’t suppose you’ve a light on you, G?  I can’t move.”   

The boffin delved into his inside jacket pocket and retrieved a sleek silver pen, which he handed to W.  The redhead took it, looking at him like he’d gone insane.   

“Light, G – not write.” 

“I know, I know – trust me, just twist the barrel.”  At her hesitation he nodded encouragingly. 

W did as instructed, warily holding the device at arm’s length.  The barrel twisted, it clicked…the nib slid into place.  She waited for a flame. 

“G…I think it’s broken.  Look, ink – no flamey” 

“What?  Ooops, sorry…that’s my pen - must be in my other pocket.” 

“Forget it.  I’m just going to head home.   De-briefing can wait.  Need a lift?” 

“No, I’m fine.  I’ll just nip down and check on Travers.  I won’t settle unless I do.” 

Standing, he helped W to her feet.  Now that the mission was over, exhaustion was fast replacing adrenalin.  Wearily, the two trudged off; W for the garage, G moving deeper inside HQ to his beloved gadgets. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Buffy sank back into the plump, overstuffed seat of the limousine as it sped away from the airport.  She slowly drained the crystal flute of chilled champagne that had miraculously materialised in her hand, Dom Perignon Rose no less.  A sigh of happiness escaped her lips, followed by a yawn.  Her boots were tugged off and cool hands gave her feet a quick squeeze.  She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the silence. 

“Happy landings, pet?” a soft, seductive voice drawled, close to her ear.   

“Mmmm…blissful.”  She snuggled into the embrace of her husband, his cool skin raising goosebumps along her heated flesh where they touched. 

“So, what’s the story, Big Bad?   Where we headed?  You’re being all mysterious and cat got the cream.  I get that…but you’re still gonna tell me!  Spill!” 

“Shhh, Buffy.  Just relax, let’s cruise a little, loosen up some kinks…” 

His fingers snaked up her bare arm, delighting in the ensuing hitched breath and racing pulse.  He gazed at the vision of her arched throat as she tipped her head back against the seat, eyes closed, lips parted slightly as she gasped.  She was bloody magnificent!  And she was his wife.  He’d never dreamt he’d marry, but that was before her and now, she was everything.  His fingers stilled as he drank in her perfection. 

Buffy opened one eye.  “Hey!  Tingly stroking went away…. what are you looking at?”  She smiled. 

“Well, I’ve just seen this amazing creature who goes by the name of Buffy Blond…or Buffy Bloody…still haven’t made my mind up yet.  Maybe you know her?” 

“Thought I did…but when you touch me…I lose myself…can’t control my body… urghhh…don’t stop….”

Buffy sighed with pleasure as the cool fingers continued their assault on her senses, caressing her neck and then dipping to skim the soft skin of her cleavage.  William leaned in closer to her sliding his hand inside her top and under the lacy bra.  He squeezed a nipple between finger and thumb, the skin puckering beneath his touch to a hard point.   Buffy slid further down in the seat as she lost herself in the sensations washing over her.  One hand palmed her breast, applying a sweet pressure, as he deftly unbuttoned her shirt with the other.   

“William!  What about the driver….” 

“Don’t worry, my blushing bride,” he replied huskily, his mouth close to her ear.  “The glass is darkened; he can’t see a thing…can’t hear a thing.” 

Buffy let his velvet voice soothe her and to be honest at this point, with one hand on her breast and the other dipping below her waistband; she couldn’t care less who was watching.  Anyway, it would take real willpower to resist and hers was long gone as far as he was concerned. 

She spread her legs in tacit invitation.  Spike removed his hand from her waistband, her little whimper of loss made him smirk. 

“Now, now, Mrs Blond…patience…” He gulped himself as her mouth formed a delicious pout, so ripe for licking and biting. 

Reluctantly, he relinquished her plump breast and knelt between her legs.  He paused a moment to admire the sight of her, golden hair spread out, the open shirt and her warm skin.  Buffy’s face was flushed with arousal, her eyes closed, open-mouthed as she panted short little breaths.  Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to control herself. 

Spike slid his hands slowly up the inside of her thighs, inhaling deeply till he was drowning in her scent.  His eyes flashed amber as he felt his cock chafe against the zip of his pants.  Sometimes going commando could be dangerous, especially around Buffy.  His hands met at the apex of her thighs, thumbs joining to rub at her heated mound through the fabric of her trousers.  Buffy pushed her pelvis forwards straining to ease her aching clit.   

“William…” 

He surged up her body to crush his lips to hers, hands fisting in her hair as he devoured her with his mouth.  His tongue swirled around hers as he sought more contact before he sucking it into his own cool mouth to rasp against his teeth.  Buffy’s mouth was as eager as his, her hands tight against the curls at the back of his neck as she met his fervour with her own.  She rose slightly, lacy breasts pressing into his chest as she hooked one leg round to pull him against her.  A hand swept down his back to grip his butt as she ground against his hardness. 

Buffy broke away as dark spots began to cloud her vision and drew in great gulps of air, her forehead resting against his.  “Too many clothes…” she gasped, and seized the front of his shirt tearing it open in her need to have her hands on his smooth skin.  Spike delighted in her hunger for him and quickly shrugged off the ripped shirt leaving himself bare to the waist.  Buffy reached behind to unhook her bra, her shirt slipping off her shoulders to bunch up behind her.  Blue eyes darkened as her breasts tumbled free of their captivity into his waiting hands. 

A keen of pleasure washed over him as Buffy zeroed in once again to nip at his lip, suckle his tongue.  She bit down hard enough to make it bleed, sucking the salty fluid across her lips and into her mouth.  It was too much; he lost control of the demon inside and his fangs grazed her lower lip.  He pulled back, “Oh Buff…” the words died on his lips as he watched her snake her tongue out to lick at the red droplets.  Buffy gazed at him, eyes shining as she deliberately showed him the shimmer of red as the blood pooled on her tongue before drawing it back inside her mouth to swallow it down.  

Spike growled.  God, she knew exactly what she was doing to him.  The chit was gonna pay. 

All restraint flew out the window as he lunged, crushing her back against the seat making her squeak in mock fright.  “You are so gonna pay for teasing me, my love.” 

“Not teasing…enticing…difference…” she gasped when she could break away from his mouth.  Spike growled against her throat before sliding his fangs a little way into her flesh, just enough to allow a trickle of blood to coat his lips.  Buffy fumbled with his flies, cooing with happiness as the zip gave way allowing his erection to brush against her hands.  She gripped it roughly, loving the feel of the skin as it rolled around the hard shaft.  Spike’s elongated canines bit a little deeper as she began to pump her fist up and down his length.  He shuddered as he felt his balls tighten with his imminent ejaculation.  Bloody hell!  He was like a fucking teenager having his first shag, losing control so quickly.  He withdrew his fangs from her neck, licking the puncture holes to stem the bleeding.  Buffy’s eyes were closed in ecstasy as she kept up a steady rhythm on his cock.   

“Buffy…you gotta stop, luv…stop.”  He laid one hand over hers to slow things down.  Didn’t want to shoot his load so soon, he had a reputation to live up to.  Buffy’s eyes fluttered open, puzzlement on her face.  “You don’t like it?” she questioned. 

“Like it too bloody much, kitten.  Gonna cover you in essence of Spike if you carry on.” 

“Now you’re talking,” she purred, squeezing hard.   

With a snarl, he seized her hands in one of his, forcing them back together above her head.  With his free hand he grabbed her waist and shifted her so she lay flat on the seat.  He undid her trousers, Buffy raising her hips to help him ease them down to her knees before she took over and kicked them off to flap around one ankle.  With a deft flick of his wrist he pulled her sodden panties to one side sliding his rock hard cock deep inside her with one thrust of his hips.  Buffy shook off his hold on her wrists, desperate to feel the muscles in his back as he pumped in and out of her warmth.  She raked his flesh frenziedly, legs clamped around his hips as he thrust again and again.  His face was buried in her neck, the ridges on his forehead brushing against the sensitive skin of her throat, his tongue worshipping her flesh.   

With a roar of pleasure, Buffy’s orgasm crashed over her, her nails leaving crescents in his ass as she gripped him fiercely.  The sudden pain catapulted him into orbit with her, his cock spasming as her muscles milked every last drop of his semen from him.  He slumped on top of her, panting, dead lungs dragging in un-needed air by reflex.  Buffy matched his panting with her own, until she needed more air than she could get with his weight on her.  She wriggled beneath him, but when he failed to get the hint she shoved at his shoulders.   

“Huh?  What?  Oh, sorry…sorry, sweetheart.”  He rolled off her, “…better now?” 

Buffy’s happy lips flitted about his face before settling on his mouth.  They snuggled in a tangle of limbs, discarded clothing strewn around them.  Spike caressed her cheek with a gentle finger, murmuring against her mouth of his love, their happiness, what he was going to do to her for the rest of their honeymoon.  Just then the car glided to a halt, spurring Buffy to scrabble for their clothes in an effort to be decent before the driver discovered them.  They almost made it. 

“Mr Blond, sir – we’re at the hotel.  Shall I have your bags taken up to your room?” 

Stifling her giggles, Buffy held up the remains of Spike’s shirt, trying with a shaking hand to fasten her crumpled top.   

“Yes! Yes, that would be fine…we just need a moment to ……ahem…gather our belongings…we’ll be out shortly.” 

“Of course, Mr Blond…I’ll be waiting.” 

It was obvious from the humour in the driver’s voice that he knew exactly what had been going on behind the courtesy screen.  If nothing else, there was no soundproofing on earth capable of muffling Buffy’s orgasmic screams.  Buffy blushed in horror, realising they’d done it again; first the Bronze, now in a car…bloody hell!  She was turning into some kind of exhibitionist nympho-hussy…British swearing too.  That’d teach her to marry a hunk of British undead sex god.  ‘Heeeee’ 

Spike just quirked an eyebrow and flashed the Blond smirk that infuriated and titillated her in equal parts.  He knew what she was thinking, and it thrilled him to realise that deep down it turned her on as much as it did him.  The look of horror on her face faded as she began to giggle, reaching for him to steal one more kiss before they left the cocoon of the limo. 

As they reached the threshold of the hotel, Spike scooped Buffy up into his arms, ignoring her squeals.  He paused in the doorway, looking down on her beaming features before placing a feather light kiss on her lips.   

“Welcome to married life, Mrs Blond.”  He swept her into the hotel and up the stairs to their room. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

“Harris.  You need to file your report in the next hour.  I’ve already received Blond’s, or should that be Blonds’…. ha!  Never mind.  G’s filed his and mine is about done.  I need to collate things and report back to London.” 

“No problem, W.  I’ll bring it through as soon as I can.”   

W clicked off the intercom and leaned back in her chair.  She swung her feet up to rest on the desk, still knackered from her forays into the field.  She’d collapsed last night after leaving G to his gadgets and heading home.  Lord knows what state he’d be in today.  Closing her eyes as she rested back, she recalled the sheer mayhem that’d been the last month or so.  There’d been hell to pay of course after Blond’s rescue, and she’d taken the reprimand from her superiors like a good puppy.  But if she had to do it all again, she’d do exactly the same thing.  She’d come alive on the trek through the jungle, the back of her neck prickling as she imagined assassins behind every tree.  She was a young woman but sometimes her job made her feel older than her years.  Physically tired as she was from the unaccustomed fieldwork, mentally she was buzzing.  She leaned forwards, snagging a cheroot and took a long drag.  Funny, she hadn’t craved a smoke in the jungle.  Who’d have thought danger satisfied her crave-ometer as much as nicotine?  

Then there was the excitement of the wedding…and the unforgettable trip there with Tara.  Mmmm …W closed her eyes again as she recalled the soft, yielding body of her secret amorata spread out languidly on grey silk sheets.  She shivered as she anticipated further assignations with her vampire lover.   

Her remembrances were cut short as thoughts of Prague took over.  It had been brutal.  At first, the five of them on the jet, going over the mission – it had felt good, like a rerun of “Rescue Blond”.  However, as they read the mission parameters it soon became apparent that it would be gruesome, and far more disturbing   

It appeared that a five-month-old baby had been snatched from the arms of her nanny as they’d walked in the park.  Generally, this would be a police matter but the baby was the daughter of a high-ranking British civil servant and the kidnap wasn’t random.  There’d been no ransom demand, just an announcement that the baby had been selected to bring forth the “day of blood and torment” that would redesign the world.  MI13 was immediately drafted in to investigate and send in a hit squad. 

Demon Research, headed by an old buddy of G’s, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, quickly identified the “day” as being linked to a demon-worshipping cult with roots in Austria.  The demon in question, Weisswurst, was centuries old and something of an oddball.  He was known as “Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang” in the trade, a cruel jest that went right over his head.  He was so grotesquely hideous that the only way he’d get any kiss or bang would be by drug-induced coma of the lucky mate. He’d been so flattered by the pseudonym he adopted it.  He was obese and warty, accentuating his assets in lederhosen that would be quite fetching on some muscular thigh-slapper, but absolutely disgusting on his wobbling flesh.  And he reeked: his body odour was reputed to reduce strong men to tears.  Yet despite all this the beast thought he was irresistible; he purred, he preened, and he sang Barry White.   

The baby was to be the focal point of a rite that would render Mr Kiss a master of mind control, able to exert untold influence over anyone, human or otherwise, that took his fancy.  As the demon wasn’t getting any, it had become an obsession with him – that and the world domination plan.  W shuddered as her mind gave her a sneak preview of what that might mean.  Ugh! 

She welcomed the distraction of Xander Harris as he bounced into the room with his report.  W beamed at him, offering him a drink.  The one-eyed agent was thrown – usually W grabbed the file and threw him out.  Still, never one to turn down a free drink, he took a seat and waited for her cue.    

“How did it go with the baby, Harris?” 

“All loved up and cuddled with mommy.  Got to say, W, that cult freaked me out.  Was he hideous or what?  Way beyond unattractive.  And deluded?  Man, he must have the most warped mirrors in the world.  And when he turned on the charm?  Yeesh - it’ll be a while before I can look a frosted donut in the eye again.” 

Harris gulped, trying to hold on to his dinner.  W nodded, unable to respond as they both relived the horror of the last few days. 

“Still, at least it’s over now.  How about Buffy and Blond?  You heard from them, W?” 

“Erm…yes.  They sent their report with a very strongly worded note.  I was told not to bother trying to contact them as they didn’t want any interruptions; it is their honeymoon after all.” 

“Yep; guess so.  Wouldn’t want to be the one to knock on that door.” 

They both chuckled, visions of shredded bellboys lightening the mood somewhat as they sipped at their drinks.   

“Still – wonder what they’re up to….”

Chapter 2

“Mmmm, do that again…it feels soooooo good.” 

“Like this, sweetheart?” 

Spike took the sharply indrawn breath and racing pulse as agreement.  He continued gliding the ice cube on his wife’s body, circling first one nipple then the other, until both were hard and aching.  Buffy moaned, licking her lips as her eyes fluttered open.  Her cheeks were flushed, desire suffusing her skin with a rosy bloom.  She raised herself slightly, resting back on her elbows in order to watch the bleached blond hair of her lover as he moved further down her body.  His eyes were fixed on hers, wide open and sapphire blue, glinting in the light of the flickering candles spread throughout the sumptuous room.  The rasping cicadas echoed outside, the warm breeze from the sea moving the sheer drapes at the balcony window, and moonlight bathed the naked lovers on the bed in silver.  It couldn’t be more romantic.  

Buffy chuckled.  Spike stilled the advance of the melting cube, making her regret her mirth.   

“Too ticklish?  Perhaps I’d better stop…pity…” his full bottom lip formed a delicious pout. 

“Nooo - don’t stop…don’t stop!!  Sorry, baby.  I’m just thinking…this could be a scene from one of those romance books, you know with Tarquin and Felicity and the whole surrendering her sweet cherry thing.  ‘Oh Tarquin…or Ow Tarquin...’she snorted.  “ Pffft - I think the champers is getting to me…” 

Spike couldn’t help but laugh along with her but soon found his desire taking control again as the chuckling made her breasts jiggle about enticingly.  “Rather partial to sweet cherries myself. Oh lookee - there’s two little beauties right here.”  He couldn’t resist the lure of her taut nipples and sucked one into his mouth, releasing it with a resounding ‘smack’.  He reached across her to the bowl of ice on the bedside cabinet, selecting a chunk that dripped icy water over her warm flesh as he resumed his sweet torture to the soft golden skin of her belly, her thighs.  

Buffy sank back on the bed, her arms above her head as she arched in pleasure.  She wasn’t laughing now, what with the panting and the moaning… 

The ice was amazing on her skin, so like the cool touch of her vampire it made her senses swim.  When he drew it down the centre of her belly to stop at her mound, then followed the wet trail with his cool lips, she almost exploded.  One touch – one gentle brush of fingers or tongue over her clit and she’d orgasm so hard she doubted the bed would take the strain.  His nose nudged against her thigh, a request for her to let him in and her legs spread wider of their own volition, her entire body screaming for completion.  Buffy opened an eye when she heard the crunch of ice being crushed between sharp teeth, then bit her lip when a chilly breath blew across her clit.  One sweep of his icy tongue rasping her swollen pussy did the trick and she screamed his name – this time it was ‘SPIIIKE!’ – while clamping her thighs together to hold him fast against her. 

She was still in the stratosphere as he slid up her body, nipping at her breasts and neck as he did so.  He settled between her legs, grinding against her, his mouth moving to cover her parted lips with his.  They devoured each other, his tongue, still cold from the ice, wrapped around hers as he rocked against her, his cock sliding across the slickness of her pussy wet with the juices that had flooded out, every movement making him teeter on the brink of coming.  Buffy’s whimpers were testament to the sensitivity of her swollen clit and she sucked at his tongue avidly, her teeth grazing where it swirled in her mouth.  Spike couldn’t hold back any longer and reached beneath her butt to grip her cheeks, raising her so that he could slide inside her depths.  She keened against his mouth as he filled her, not giving her time to adjust to his width but immediately thrusting, his hands controlling her hips to the pace he needed.  He released her mouth with a last nip at her lips, wanting to watch her as he came in her.   

Seeing her rapt beneath him made him wonder anew at the fates that had brought Buffy into his life.  God knows, he’d done terrible things in his long existence and he’d tried to make amends since then, never dreaming he’d find bliss.   He wasn’t going to waste this gift. 

His hands caressed her body, the swell of her hips and indent of her waist, the gentle roundness of her breasts, the glory of her golden hair; he slowed his thrusts, overcome with love for her.  Buffy noticed the change in pace immediately, fluttering open her lashes to find deep blue eyes fixed on her.  “Something wrong?” she whispered, stroking his shoulders. 

“God no - nothing wrong.  Just realised how much I love you – how I want you all the time.” 

Her smile dazzled him as she reached up to cradle the back of his head as he stilled above her, pulling his lips back where they belonged, right on hers.  She felt William smile against her mouth.  As he began to move again, each thrust hitting the sweet spot inside her, she lifted her hips to meet him.  His movements became more frenetic, his kiss deeper, his hands grasping her hair and the small of her back.  Buffy felt the familiar sensation of throbbing pleasure start to build in the pit of her stomach and wrapped her legs around him, tilting her hips to get the perfect angle so that he hit her clit with every thrust.   The new position obviously did it for him too as he groaned into her mouth.  Needing more breath, she tore her lips from him, gasping as the ripples of pleasure started to flood her body.  At the crescendo of her orgasm, she screamed his name – this time, this sweet lovemaking, it was ‘WILLIAM!!’ – he gave one final deep thrust, filling her with his cool seed.   

A maid walking past the room for the second time in the last hour blushed at the racket coming from inside.  And secretly wished she were the lucky girl in the middle of Spike and William, whoever they were. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Harris was starting to get really nervous.  Noon passed and W still hadn’t shown up to work.  There hadn’t even been a message from her, which was unheard of.  She did occasionally have meetings outside the office, but they were always arranged through reception.  Buffy Summers – Blond now he supposed – used to be in charge of arranging her diary, but in her absence a delicious brunette named Cordelia had stepped up to the plate.  So far he hadn’t spoken to her other than a quick “hello” but had managed to get an eyeful of her lush and curvy form.  This maybe crisis would give him the chance to get to know her better.  The thought of the dazzling Anyanka Jenkinskovitch atomising him with her death-ray stare disappeared as he made the decision to head to the Magic Box part of HQ.  

He felt almost cheerful as he left W’s office, but his brow soon creased in a frown as he recalled the reason he was heading to reception.  Yeah, business first, pleasure later… possibly. 

The sight that greeted him almost made him forget what he’d gone for.  All he could see was a roundly pert butt, nicely filling tight black spandex, as Cordelia was bent over looking through a drawer at the back of the counter.  He let out a slow wolf-whistle. 

“Well, well…mmm hmm…that’s what I call a welcome.” 

Cordelia jumped at the noise, casting a look back over her shoulder that caused her long dark hair to swing in front of her face.  She shook her head to clear her view.  ‘Mmmm, check out the salty goodness.’  From the eye patch, she gathered this was the famed Xander Harris, second only to the legendary Spike Blond in the Catch a Girl, Kiss a Girl stakes.  Nice look; the patch was good on him.  He was bulky but not overly so, nice smile, even teeth.  All in all, maybe she’d give him a whirl.  Not just yet though, got to make him beg a bit first.   

Turning on the charm, Cordelia stood upright, slamming the drawer shut with her hip and hugging the file she’d taken out close to her well-endowed chest.  She shook out her hair again, knowing that some men just loved the flowing locks.  “Can I help you, Mr…”? 

“Agent.  Agent Harris, Xander Harris.” 

“Well, Agent Agent Harris Xander Harris, what can I do for you?” 

God.  What a question.  What couldn’t this goddess do for him?  He realised his mouth was gaping like a village idiot, so he regained his cool by strolling up to the counter and leaning on it nonchalantly as Cordelia placed the folder to her left and sat behind the computer, typing as she looked at the open file.  She ignored him.  There he was displaying his best ‘I’m a witty, urbane master of espionage – shagmeister extraordinaire’ look and the damn woman was ignoring him! 

He cleared his throat.  No reaction.  Again.  Not a blink. 

Didn’t she know who he was?  He was Xander Harris…Agent 0013.  He was a mere 100 points behind Spike Blond in his overall spy stats.  He’d had women all over the world fall at his feet begging him to take them.  And yet…this was a new approach and he found himself intrigued. So he persevered. 

“Cordelia…isn’t it?” 

“It might be.  Yeah, or…I prefer Cordy.” 

“Cordy it is.  Well, Cordy…I need to know if W had an appointments this morning.  You got any records?” 

Cordy smiled.  She liked the way he rolled her name off his tongue.  Very tasty.  Maybe this temporary assignment would be worth making permanent.  “I’ll check.  I haven’t made any for her, but she sometimes adds stuff from home…”   

The dazzling smile accompanying the last statement almost floored the spy.  Wow.   

The sound of his cell phone, playing Midnight in Moscow, broke the spell.  Damn.  He’d assigned that tune to the Russian babe.  Apologising, he flipped the phone and turned away to talk. 

“Yes!” he hissed. 

“Darlink…vat are you doing at zis moment?  I find myself all alone and naked…and so hungry for your delicious Shashlyk.  Ve can have vodka and nibbles…” 

“Oooh… erm - not now, Anyanka.  There’s a situation here I’ve got to resolve.”  Duty and libido did battle.  Duty won, temporarily.  “I’ll be half an hour.” 

He clicked the cell shut and turned back to the delicious brunette.  “Anything?” 

“No, the diary’s blank.  She does sometimes go to the beauty salon for a facial - not usually on a Tuesday though….” 

Xander pondered the options.  W wasn’t in her office, she should be, which was bad.  There was no obvious explanation, which was strange.  She could be lying in a pool of blood in her apartment, which was…. the last thought gripped him.  He’d go and check out W’s place, it was on his way to Anyanka’s anyway.  With a rueful smile, he took his leave of the delectable brunette, grabbing her hand and pressing a brief kiss into the palm.  “Later,” he murmured, delighting in the spark of interest he saw in her eyes.  As he turned on his heel and strode out the door, knowing that her eyes followed him, he silently thanked Spike Blond for the lessons in cool he’d unknowingly imparted over the years.   

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

“The beach, pet?  Fancy me with a tan, do you?  The all over crispy big pile of dust type?” 

“Not in broad daylight, idiot!  As if!!!  I meant at night, with the waves crashing on the beach, moonlight on the surf, a picnic…soft music…skinny dipping…” 

“That’s my bold hussy,” he grinned.  “Roll on sunset!”

Spike and Buffy Blond were resting after several hours strenuous ‘siesta’, the drapes tight closed against Mr Sunshine in deference to Spike’s skin condition.  Only three days left of their honeymoon then back to reality.  Spike, despite the irresistible delights of afternoons in bed with his wife, was eager to get back to the mayhem and the mad slaughter.  It was part of his nature and no amount of denial would hide that.  It was true that the slaughter nowadays was limited to ‘evildoers’, but still – death and destruction was a big part of his raison d’être.   

Buffy had been thinking about her return too.  Now she’d been on the frontline, the desk job at the Magic Box just wasn’t going to cut it.  She’d ask W for a permanent assignment, apply for accreditation as a 00 agent.  Nothing less would do.  She knew William would understand; they were two sides of a coin, both thrilling from the chase and the kill.  And she’d found that she was surprisingly good at it.  No, Buffy Summerpenny, keeper of the diary, was long gone.  Decision made, she turned into her husband’s embrace, nuzzling his shoulder as she drifted off into a satiated slumber.  

The shrill ring of the telephone had them both leaping up, alert to danger, and automatically adopting a defensive stance.  By the fifth ring, they’d identified the threat as a pale grey telephone and relaxed somewhat, embarrassed grins on their faces.  Buffy picked up the receiver, delighting in hearing herself say “This is Buffy Blond.”   

Spike chuckled, as thrilled as his wife at hearing her words.  He settled himself back on the pillows, closing his eyes as he listened in to her conversation.  His enhanced hearing picked up the other speaker as well as her side of the conversation...G if he wasn’t mistaken, and quite animated too.  He sat up, his interest piqued.  Buffy was listening half-heartedly to G’s chatter, playing with the cord of the receiver as she ogled her pale lover, his lips quirked in a grin that clearly said ‘get rid of him, I’m waiting’.   

He snaked his cool fingers up her arm and swept the sheet of golden hair away from her neck so that he could place burning kisses beneath her ear.  Buffy moaned -- loudly. 

“Sorry, Buffy – what was that?  I think there’s a problem on the line…” 

“Oh! Oooooh!  What?  No…sorry, G…erm, must be the full moon or something… playing havoc with connections.  Please tell me you didn’t call to fill me in on the latest assignments - Cordelia Chase is more than capable of dealing with any queries you may have.  So…what’s the sitch?” 

“Sitch?  I don’t…oh, situation…how very droll.  Well, yes…I suppose I am…well, not entirely…ahem, the thing is…” 

Spike snatched the receiver from Buffy’s hand, her squeak of indignation quelled as he placed his hand on her face and pushed her backwards onto the bed.   

“G. - Blond here.  You do know we’re on honeymoon, don’t you?  And you also know that we’ve put this off once already?  Better be a good reason for this call, old man, or you will be less a functioning lung when I get back.” 

“Blond.  Hahaha…yes…good man.  I understand entirely.  The thing is…have you had a good break?  The cuisine there is out of this world – have you tried the lobster yet?  And what about the ‘Blue Bar’-- down by the docks? One time… it must have been the late seventies, I’ll never forget--” 

Blond’s snarl snapped the gadget-man back on track.  “Ahem.  Oh right… well then…  The thing is…we need you back at HQ a.s.a.p. old chap. W’s missing.  And there’s a scroll.” 

“A WHAT?”  Spike’s gruff voice cut through to Buffy’s lazy fantasies as she languidly ran a pedicured foot along the perfection of his back, his butt, as he sat on the edge of the bed.  She sat up, alarm on her face. 

Buffy gestured to Spike to give her the receiver, but he shook his head transferring it to his other hand out of her reach.  “What did it say?” 

“Just that Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang would have his revenge, that the Queen of his enemies would be the Queen of his Heart and all mortals would cower before him.” 

A beat.  A shared look. 

“We’re on our way.” 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

HQ was in turmoil.  All the operatives were indebted to W, either personally or professionally, and the news of her disappearance hit them hard.  Harris had gone to her apartment but she was out.  He’d rationalised her absence as being a woman thing, maybe another attack of shoe shopping or such, and had moved on to Anyanka’s home where he spent an afternoon and night indulging his favourite fantasy of ‘Xander the hussar meets the Princess Anyanka’.  In the morning, he’d woken up in the rabbit-fur shrouded bed, choking on the coverlet, and sweltering in the remains of a fancy uniform.  After basking in the afterglow, thoughts of W resurfaced and he took his leave of Her Highness, hurriedly dressing and returning to W’s home.  It was only 6.00 am.  Too early for work.  If she didn’t answer, he’d be seriously worried. 

Harris pounded on the door to W’s apartment, waking neighbours who screamed abuse at him, but got no response from inside.  Making a decision, he dropped his shoulder and charged the door.  The crash of his shoulder meeting the door was drowned out by his howl of pain.  “Fuck!” he screamed.  A shocked face peeked from the next door.  He smiled apologetically at the lady in nightclothes and a hairnet and she immediately ducked back inside. 

He charged the door again, and this time it gave, sending Xander sprawling onto the hall floor.   “W!” he bellowed, darting through the hallway and into the bedrooms.  Each door he opened revealed an empty room.  Nobody home.  Harris didn’t know what to do. He almost missed the parchment on the table as he ran out the door. 

As soon as he got back to HQ he summoned senior staff to an emergency meeting.  G was more than disturbed by W’s absence.  It was personal to him in ways that nobody could imagine.  In the maelstrom of the day, Harris forgot G’s violent reaction to the news of W’s kidnapping.  No doubt the sight of the trashed briefing room would focus his mind again when things settled down. 

The embossed scroll read: “Servants of the Queen, know that we have your Sovereign.  At the serendipitous moment, she will be mated to our magnificent Lord and Master Weisswurst, thus furnishing Him with the means to rule the Mortal World and to subdue human will to His own.  Cower in submission, and we may find a use for you when the Day of Blood and Torment dawns.”    

“In the words of the Master’s favourite singer, He asks us to relate this to you as a summary of His feelings – “You’re my World, my hopes and dreams; without you girl, it don’t mean a thing.”  Such are the sentiments of the Mighty Weisswurst as He beholds His Queen, the Queen of His Heart.  You will see her again:  As you die.  It is fitting punishment for depriving our Lord of the gift of love; it will be His revenge.  Your Queen stole the means by which the Master could quench the conflagration of His passions.  She herself will now fulfil that which He lacks.” 

Harris finished reading the missive to a stunned silence.  The mentally challenged Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang had decided that W, as head of the rescue team, was the ‘Queen’ for whom the spies fought.  Were the situation not so dire, it would be hilarious.  What a halfwit!  His revenge for the thwarting of his doomed attempt at child sacrifice was to bind himself to W, using her as the focus of his plan instead of the infant.  But instead of murdering her he intended to mate her, impose his warty, foul-smelling body on her.  

There was nothing to do now but wait for Spike and Buffy Blond to come and save the day.  G made the call. 

Cut to:  a whirlwind of preparation as bags are packed, hotel toiletries snagged into waiting suitcases.  A lingering kiss between the two Blonds, a frenzied final check of the cupboards. 

A knock on the door.  “Mr and Mrs Blond?  Your car is here.  Are you decent?” 

A smirk from a nearly naked spy as he bundles a completely nude Buffy into the wardrobe.  A whispered retort – “Hardly.” 

Doo – doo- doooooo; doo- doo – dooooooooo, doo-to-doooooo

Chapter 3

Tara checked her watch for the zillionth time, 9.00 pm and still no sign of her lover. It wasn’t like her; the flame-haired spymaster was never so much as a minute late, never mind an hour.  She looked around the busy restaurant, feeling hugely conspicuous sitting alone, and noticed the maitre d’ chatting to the waiter who’d brought her a second glass of wine.  Both men chose that moment to glance her way as she fumbled with the menu, thankful that it was big enough to hide her blush of embarrassment.  By 9.14 pm she decided to leave.  W wouldn’t keep her waiting like this without good reason and the only way to find out what was going on was to go and look for her.  She motioned to the waiter for the check, choosing to ignore the sympathetic ‘you’ve been stood up’ look he shot her way.  Leaving enough money on the table to cover the bill and a tip, she collected her coat and practically ran from the restaurant. 

It was only a ten-minute walk to W’s place so it wasn’t as if she’d be out of breath when she got there, being pretty much out of breath on a permanent basis.  She did have an interesting encounter with a chubby mugger who tried to run off with her purse, but he’d had a change of heart when she flashed her vamp face.  Funny how that always seemed to do the trick.   

Tara felt uneasy as she stood at W’s door.  She thought of the first time she’d been here, her stunned awe when W had warmly invited her in to the first human home she’d entered since being turned.  William was at ease in the company of – for want of a better word – food, but she found it very difficult to deal with her conflicting feelings.  As a vampire she knew instinctively that she should be craving warm, pumping, human blood straight from the vein; but since the horror of being turned and the ensuing suicide attempt, neither she nor her brother had killed a human for food.  She’d survived on animal blood, and yeah, it was hard.  But it would be harder still to carry on, knowing she’d taken another being’s life.  So, for the most part, she kept herself isolated from human contact.  It was easier that way.  Until she’d met William’s boss.   

Wow.  Talk about coup de foudre – and she hadn’t even known whether or not W was gay!  But she did know that she could look at those big sea green eyes and the mass of titian hair forever and that would be enough. When said green-eyed gal made her move and it became apparent that she was not only gay but also definitely interested, Tara could have burst from happiness.   

And now she was loitering at her lover’s door, unsure whether to knock or just slink away.  What if W had changed her mind?  She wouldn’t blame her.  The powerful spymaster could have anybody she wanted, so what could she possibly see in somebody as timid as she was?  As she was about to knock, she stayed her hand.  Should she?  What if W was entertaining somebody else.  If that was the case it’d be a good day to greet the sun, and that would devastate William.  No.  Best to just leave things.  Wait until W got in touch.  With a final glance back at the closed door, Tara disappeared into the night and back to the haven of her own home. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

“So it’s honeymoonus interruptus and back to the action – well some kinda action.  I’m all confused – part of me wants to get at it, you know?  But another part of me wants to…” Buffy grinned wickedly, “get at IT… rip your shirt off and kiss those nipples… bite ’em till you… mmmm…” 

“GOD!!  Buffy!  Please!  We’re doing 90 and I’m trying so hard to stay on the road right now.  And can you please move your hand…” 

“No can do, honey – I love it when you try hard.  Besides you promised to worship me with your body and I need some worship.  There must be a forest or something soon?  Couldn’t we…” 

“Grrrr!  Buffy! You’re gonna kill me!  Bloody hell… can’t even move my leg now to change gear.  Ok, ok – you win.  I’ll pull over.  But just a quickie, right?  We’re needed at HQ.” 

Spike Blond spotted a place and expertly skidded the car to a screeching halt under the cover of some overhanging trees.  He cut the engine, yanked the parking brake on and tore the seatbelt open.  With a roar he lunged at the giggling blonde in the passenger seat, crushing her beneath him.  Suddenly the seat reclined and he found himself sprawled uncomfortably with his hypersensitive groin resting on the gear stick.   

“Ooops - Sorry!  I just thought we’d be more comfortable.” 

“I’d rethink your definition of comfortable, pet.”  Blond winced, “Gear stick in the family jewels isn’t exactly relaxing.” 

“Awww, well – maybe I can do something… kiss it better…” 

The rasp of a zipper opening was soon followed by the gasp of a rampant vampire.  There was a rustle, moans, the creak of leather upholstery.  Lips battled lips to get closer, sharp teeth nipping and grazing the tender flesh.   Another zipper, buttons.   

“Oh… Buffy… yeah…that’s right, kitten…don’t stop….” 

“William… switch… you lie back, ok?”

“Nooo…don’t stop…” 

“Move it, Mr Blond, if you know what’s good for you!” 

“I know what’s good for me…you are.” 

“Awww…” 

More kissing, gasps of pleasure, upholstery springs protesting at the wrestling match taking place in the cramped interior.  Buffy snaked her hand down the cool, firm torso of her husband who was presently laid out on the reclined seat beneath her.  In the moonlight she could just see the glint of his blue eyes, filled with love, lust and amusement as she tickled him on her downward journey to his impressive erection.  He giggled, a delicious sound that rumbled in his chest and made her smile.  She bent to kiss him, whisper soft at first then more urgent as she slipped her hand lower to tangle in the dark curls that clustered at the base of his thick cock.  His tongue thrust into her mouth, his groin simulating the same movement into her eager hand as she wrapped her fingers around his throbbing length.  Buffy sucked on his tongue, squeezing his hard-on and moving her fist slowly up and down.  She rocked against his leg, seeking friction to ease the need building between her thighs.  Letting out a moan, she released his tongue, resting her forehead on his to drag in great gulps of air before homing in again to bite down on his full bottom lip.  

Spike Blond wasn’t slacking either, one hand caressed his wife’s finely muscled back to seek out the bra clasp that slipped open, baring her to his stroking.  He continued around to cup one plump breast, tweaking the rosy nipple to exquisite hardness between thumb and forefinger.  Buffy ‘mmmed’ her pleasure into his kiss.  His other hand insisted on joining in and dipped inside her unzipped trousers finding the moist curls that heralded her arousal. Buffy groaned as he slipped one cool digit between her folds to circle her swollen clit. 

“Why’d we put all these clothes on… get ‘em off.” 

Buffy sat upright as she finished speaking, forgetting the low roof of the car that her head thunked against.  “Ow! Ow…my head…” 

“Aw, poor bossy baby got a boo-boo?” 

“Shut up… I’ll give you boo-boo… later, kiss my bumps later… get these off!” 

She scrabbled at his pants, succeeding in getting them halfway down his thighs.  Her shirt and bra hung off one shoulder, her bare breasts dangling enticingly in front of his lips.  “Oh, crap… look, just pull mine off one leg – I don’t care as long as I can get at you!” 

Spike happily complied, manoeuvring down enough to grab the hem of one leg and pull it, leaving her trailing the inside-out trousers from a still booted foot.  With a snarl he realised he still had her sodden thong to contend with; he shrugged and the oh-so-pretty but oh-so-delicate garment joined the ranks of its predecessors, sorry shreds of lace ripped off in passion.   

“Spike!  That was part of a set!  Dammit, you are so cruel to my frillies.  Why don’t you…oh…never mind…oh…god…don’t stop…” 

Spike knew how to shut her up – he was presently sliding three well-lubricated fingers in and out of her pussy, his thumb circling her clit in counterpoint as she bucked her hips into his touch.  He watched her, her body gleaming pale in the moonlight, her mouth an ‘o’ of pleasure as she gyrated against him, one hand braced on the window the other his chest.  She was miraculous. 

His cock was demanding attention now, the tip leaking pre-cum and bobbing in anticipation.  Spike withdrew his fingers from their red-hot prison eliciting a whimper of loss from Buffy shaking above him.  “Look at me” he whispered, her eyes opening at his tone and fixing on his beautiful face. 

He slid the fingers coated with her juices into his mouth licking them thoroughly, his tongue wrapping around each one in turn before he sucked it all the way in and released it noisily.  

“Guhhhh” Buffy managed, her eyes wide and glazed with lust. 

While she was still mesmerised at the sight of him relishing her taste, running his tongue around his lips to catch any stray drops, he gripped her hips to centre her above his erection and thrust up into her heat.  She fell forwards to kiss him ravenously, her hands tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck, grinding down into his upward thrusts.   The silk of his shirt was a barrier between her breasts and the cool flesh she craved so she pulled, tearing it in her haste.  Her goal reached, she pressed her hardened nipples against him, sighing with happiness into his mouth. 

“Buffy, love… can’t last… you’ve tormented me for miles… gonna come….” 

“Me too… want you so much… come for me now...” 

Buffy clenched her vaginal muscles around his length, the feel of his hard cock sparking a tightening in the base of her stomach that spread outwards, shivers of anticipation signalling that another bone melting orgasm was about to flood her body.  Spike bucked up into her tight pussy, screaming her name when he ejaculated deep inside her, the throbbing of his cock pushing her over the edge to join him in an orgasmic scream of her own.    

More creaks of leather, soft kisses, panting for breath… whispered endearments, giggles of soft affection. 

The knock on the window startled them both.   

“You folks okay in there?  Oh my God!!!  This isn’t a hotel you know!  That’s just disgusting!” 

Buffy looked at Spike, hand across her mouth before dissolving into a fit of giggles that had her coughing for breath.  Spike burst out laughing too, marvelling yet again that this woman was his.  When she calmed, they dragged on the remnants of their clothing, Spike not even bothering with the shirt that was in tatters.  Buffy ruefully retrieved the ruined thong from where it had landed on the gear stick, checking to see whether it was worth a go with a needle and thread.  Nope.  Not a chance. 

“You know, I think I might stop wearing panties.  We’d save a fortune.” 

“Oh please god, say you’re not joking!” 

“Mr Blond!  Please!  Now, don’t we have somewhere to be?” 

“What?  You cheeky bint!  Whose idea was the ‘let’s stop in a forest’ thing?  I was all for going straight to HQ.  It’s you, you’re insatiable!” 

“And whose fault is that?  I can’t help it if I want you all the time… And you’re complaining why…?” 

Spike Blond grinned, his tongue resting against his teeth as he fired the ignition and slid the gear into first.  “Not complaining, love.  Thank every god there is that you straddled me that night in the Bronze.  Don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but I can’t be without you - ever.” 

“That works out nicely then.” 

Hands entwined atop the gear stick, he floored the accelerator, and the Aston Martin sped away from the dirt track in a cloud of raised dust.  Playtime was over. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

HQ was crammed with every available operative awaiting the arrival of their number one spy.  Mr and Mrs Spike Blond had been expected an hour ago and although nobody voiced the thought, everybody gathered had a fleeting worry that the newlyweds had gone the way of their missing leader.  In W’s absence, all eyes turned to G to take charge and he was feeling the pressure.  He was more than capable of course, he had the same clearance, even the same training, as W.  They’d spent time together on the same courses and become firm friends.  Secretly, G had harboured hopes that they’d be more than friends – surprising himself since he was perfectly contented with his bachelor status and was a good a number of years older than her – but after a few stuttering attempts at asking her out were politely refused, they’d settled into a warm and mutually rewarding friendship.  True he still adored her, but platonically.  Nonetheless, her absence was causing him great distress and he was finding it difficult to concentrate. 

“What…sorry?” He realised through his musings that somebody had spoken. 

“G…I was just saying, does anybody know if W has family that we should be contacting?  I’ve checked her records but the recent information says that she’s an only child, parents deceased.  I haven’t been here very long… is there a boyfriend, husband?” 

“Miss…Chase, isn’t it?  No, nobody that I’m aware of.  W was…is…quite literally married to the job.” 

Silence descended again, G surreptitiously checking his watch.  Damn! Where the blazes had the Blonds got to? 

The tinkle of the bell over the door jolted everybody and they all looked at the entrance in expectation. 

“No… steamy windows nothing to do with me, love…no breath, remember, no body heat?  ‘Sides, you’re so hot it’s a wonder they didn’t vaporise...  Hey!  Watch the suit…” 

Spike Blond’s voice tapered off as he became aware of the welcoming committee that had, unusually, gathered in the ‘Magic Box’ part of HQ.  Operatives rarely lingered in the shop, as it was the front for their operations and therefore kept mostly low key.  Buffy’s smile froze, her hand still pulling at the lapel of the Saville Row jacket that hung open over husband’s bare chest. 

“Hi!” she managed to squeak out, her eyes darting about to see Spike swiftly button the jacket to try and regain some dignity. 

G shouldered his way through the masses to greet them. 

“Trouble, 00666?” he muttered quietly. 

“What?  Oh… the shirt... no, nothing….s’nothing.  Just…G, what’s going on?” 

“I told you, W’s missing.  She’s been kidnapped.” 

“I know but…is this every active agent?”  He indicated with his raised eyebrow the throng of people pressed into the room. 

“Oh, yes.  Well.  It appears that once news got out they all wanted to help.  We still don’t know where to start so I thought it best to keep all options open.” 

Blond had known G for years and could tell that the quartermaster was scared.  Terrified in fact.  He looked like he was about to snap.   

The spy laid a hand on G’s shoulder, staring into his eyes.  “It's alright old man.  We’ll find her.  We’ll get her back.” 

G gave him a shaky smile, swiftly moving away to take off his glasses, busying himself with wiping them furiously with his handkerchief.  Buffy looked puzzled, even more so when she saw a tear track down his cheek.  She turned to voice a question but Spike stopped her with a small shake of his head.  He mouthed to her ‘later’ and she nodded. 

“Right, people.  Let’s stop arsing about with this.  Everybody grab some research – we need more on Weisswurst - and let’s get cracking.  Harris – you found the parchment, I want a detailed sketch of everything in the apartment, photographs if you have them.  Travers, G here needs to fill me in on a few things so I want you to draw up a list of possible requirements for a rescue mission.   Demons, don’t forget, and right pillocks so keep that in mind.  You… what’s your name?” 

A small, red-haired man gestured to himself with incredulity.  At 00666’s nod, he spoke quietly.  “Me, sir?  Osborne – Daniel Osborne.  I’m in demon languages, sir.” 

“Can you hack a computer, Osborne?” 

“Oz, sir…most people call me Oz, and yes, of course.” 

“You just got your clearance upgraded.  I need somebody to get into W’s database, find out what you can about any contact she’s had with Mr Kiss Kiss or his followers.  Check her computer at home too.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You…no… you there, with the brown hair.” 

Cordelia Chase drew herself up to her full height, shifting her weight to one leg before resting her hands on her hips. 

“Yes?” she answered, her eyes sweeping him appreciatively. 

“You’re new.  What do you do?” 

“Oh…this and that…and the other… whatever’s needed.  What do you need me to do?” 

Spike felt Buffy’s snarl building her before it left her throat and placed a warning hand on her arm.  The brunette was either very sure of herself or didn’t know who he was – and more importantly that he was with Buffy.  She shrugged off his hand and stepped forwards.  

“What we need you to do…Miss..?” 

“Cordelia Chase.” 

“…Miss Chase…is to get your mind on the job in hand and act appropriately.” 

Spike took a step back letting Buffy handle this one.  She seemed to be holding her own… which is more or less what he’d be doing if he so much as glanced at the statuesque Miss Chase.   

“Fine.  As I said, I’ll do whatever is needed.  Why don’t you tell me what that is, Miss…?” 

“Mrs. Blond… Buffy Blond.” 

“Oh!” 

Buffy smirked; bull’s-eye.  Jealousy assuaged, she linked her husband’s arm and paraded him through the room towards the classified area.  As they passed Cordelia Chase she stopped, gesturing to Spike to carry on without her.  Rolling his eyes, he left her barking out further orders as he went.  The room cleared, everybody scurrying off to start the search for W. 

“Miss Chase…I presume you were sent to cover my absence?” 

“Well, yes.  I’ve been assigned here temporarily.” 

“Would you care to make it permanent?  I only ask as there will be a vacancy.” 

“But I thought… aren’t you coming back?” 

“Oh, don’t worry.  I’m not leaving.  I’m just trading up.  So…do you want to stay?” 

Cordelia considered her options.  She was presently at the heart of the field organisation, more than she’d expected would ever happen to her.  She’d have daily contact with all the hot studs she’d previously only filed reports on.  She’d got plans for Xander Harris and there were one or two other hotties dotted about that she’d be looking up details on.  And there was Spike Blond.  God, his photos didn’t do him justice…and that voice… Her musings were cut short when she focused on the woman in front of her.  Ah, and there was Buffy Blond.  What the hell, it was too good a chance to turn down. 

“Yeah, ok.  I’d like to stay.”

“Great.  Welcome to Sunnydale.” 

The two shook hands warily.  Cordelia turned to resume her work and Buffy started to walk away.  Her footsteps stopped, the brunette lifting her head in response.

“Oh, one more thing.  British Intelligence want a receptionist who can present a convincing façade – the hooker looking for a customer act was totally believable but hardly professional while you’re on duty.  If you ever look at my husband that way again…” 

Then she was gone, leaving Cordelia Chase swallowing in fear over the unvoiced threat.  God, she was one scary lady.  Maybe just Harris to mack on then… 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Tara was seriously worried.  It had been two days since she’d heard from W, the longest she’d gone without a message apart from the times recently when W had been on a mission.  Maybe that was it, maybe she’d been called away.  But how could she find out?  The only thing she could think of was to ask William.  But William was away with Buffy, on honeymoon.   

The gentle vampire agonised about it, not wanting to bother her brother but desperate for news of W.  And another thing, she’d told no one about her relationship, not even William.  What if he didn’t understand… 

Her anxiety overcame any thought of consequences.  With a shaking hand she picked up the phone and called William. 

After ten rings it diverted to his answering service; she pondered whether she should leave a message but decided against it.  She nibbled on her lower lip, wondering what to do now.  Then she remembered he’d left the number of the hotel they’d be staying at.  Where had she put it?  She scrabbled about the flat finally locating the scrap of paper. 

“Hello?  Yes, can you put me through to Wil…I mean Mr Blond please? Oh, when was that?  Th...thank you; no that’s all, goodbye.” 

William had checked out the day before.  Where was he?  She was now beginning to panic.  Making a decision she grabbed a coat and her keys and headed into the night. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

“My first……my last…………my everythang…….” 

W shuddered when she smelled him coming, then the warty demon wobbled into view, his jowls quivering as he warbled his favourite song.  His stench hit her and she gagged around the rag stuffed in her mouth.  She had no option but to breathe through her nose and she was sure that any minute now her systems would shut down from olfactory overload.  If only she had her hands free… 

“Salutations, my preeeety one; how are ve today?  You are gut, ja?  I can see dat you are liking very  much my singing, Herr Vhite is der master of der love song, ain’t dat der truth.” 

W looked on in horror as the monster preened at one of the many mirrors dotting the underground cavern.  Insane, totally insane. 

“I regret I must absent myself from your delightful presence, mein pumpernickel, a few days only – preparation for der glorious ceremonials when you vill transcend der commonplace and join vid me in der rapture.  I vill be leaving my superior beasts to protect you; dey have mein orders to see dat you vant for nothing.” 

He waddled towards her, bare thighs bulging out of his lederhosen rubbing together with a sweaty squelch, each step nearer intensifying the odorous miasma that surrounded him.   

Up close and personal was even worse – what with the pig eyes, the pustules, and the slobbery lips.  W clamped her eyes shut, ‘Don’t think about the warts… no warts… anything but King Crap drooling away right in front of me’.  Her mind settled on a vision to centre her, keep her sane.  Tara.  Glorious, outlined in moonlight, as she laughs and sips at red wine.  Long hair spread out on a satin pillow.  Silken skin.  A searing kiss. 

She felt wet rubbery lips brush her cheek, and couldn’t suppress a shudder of revulsion.  Of course, the egotistical demon thought it was something else.   

“Patience, my qveen; soon you vill haf your innermost desire.  I vill return for you…and den you vill know such loving dat you haf only dreamed of.” 

With a shimmy of his walrus-like rump, he waddled away singing once more in obsessed homage to the Love Machine himself. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Cordelia Chase looked up in surprise as the front door opened; it was late and whilst customers were in and out during the day, at night it was usually only spies and spymasters.  Still, she kept to her training. 

“Hello!  Can I help you?  Spells or potions, blessings or curses you’ve come to the right place.” 

“He... hello.  I’m looking for….I mean…is William here?” 

“I’m sorry, Miss.  I don’t believe William works at the Magic Box.  Do you have the right address?” 

“I..I think so.” 

Tara leaned forwards, whispering. “Is this …HQ?” 

Cordelia instantly hit the alarm button, immediately sealing the front door and all other exits with steel and magical barriers.  The noise was intense and meant to disorientate any intruder; to the vampire the high-pitched siren was agonising.  She collapsed to the floor, hands over her ears, screaming. 

Suddenly the door to the rear offices swung open, a blur of blond hair barrelling through to the stricken figure on the floor.  He cradled her, smoothing her hair and kissing the top of her head.  As the siren blared on, he turned to the puzzled Cordelia screaming at her, “Fucking turn that off - turn it off NOW!” 

Galvanised into action, she dived for the reset button beneath the counter.  She had no idea what was going on but angry Spike Blond was not something she wanted to deal with.  Silence returned save for the sobbing of the woman on the floor. 

“Tara…Tara my love….what is it?  What’s happened?” 

Cordelia was more than puzzled now.  God help the woman if Buffy caught them - and what a naughty spy Mr Blond was cheating on his wife so soon!  Her mouth curved into a smile of anticipation; maybe 00666 wasn’t quite so off limits after all. 

The rear door opened again and in stepped Buffy.  ‘Oh this was getting really interesting.  Cordelia shifted to get a better view, grinning expectantly.  This was priceless! 

The grin faded as Buffy fell to her knees on the other side of the woman – Tara – and wrapped her arms around her too.   The sobbing woman turned into her arms, Spike Blond sitting back on his heels as he tried to get a grip of his emotions.  He flung an icy glare at Cordelia. 

“What?  I reacted as set down.  She asked was this HQ; she didn’t show me any ID or anything.   I followed protocol!”  Cordelia was becoming pissed off with the treatment she was receiving from the Blonds.  So what if they were the golden couple, didn’t mean they could treat her like dirt.  She was beginning to wonder if she’d made a mistake saying she’d stay. 

Spike got to his feet and strolled over to the counter where the brunette was studiously avoiding looking at him and the two women on the floor. His soft voice spoke. 

“Hey, Miss Chase.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to snap.” 

Without conscious thought she turned to look at him.  Bam.  Putty; right there and then she was putty in his hands.  His baby blues were full of remorse and fixed on her.  She swallowed, licked her suddenly dry lips. 

“It’s…no big, doesn’t matter.  I overreacted.” 

“No, you did exactly what you’re supposed to.  The Service should be proud of having you.  It’s just that she’s my sister and as you can see, she’s more than a little upset.” 

He followed his words with a lopsided smile and a tilt of his head.  Oh god…she couldn’t think, was staring at him with her mouth open.  Think, Cordelia, move mouth, make words. 

“No, really.  I’m sorry.”  She noticed Buffy glaring up at her from the floor.  “Erm, I think I need to go take care of some things out back.”  With a final fearful glance over her shoulder she made it through to the corridor, leaning against the door she’d closed behind her.  “Man is this going to be a job and a half!” 

Spike returned to where Buffy and Tara were still sitting on the floor.  Tara seemed to be calmer, leaning her head against Buffy’s shoulder as they spoke quietly.  He knelt down, taking his sister’s hand in his and kissing it. 

“Now, what’s the problem, my sweetness?  Did you really miss me so much that you had to cause a lockdown?”  He smiled tenderly at her. 

“Oh, William.  It’s just…..I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.  I didn’t know what else to do, and I tried ringing your cell phone and it wasn’t answered and then I rang the hotel and they said you’d left.  I’m sorry…” 

“Tara, what’s happened?  Why did you need to find me so urgently?” 

She took a deep breath, disturbing indeed for a vampire.  Eyes lowered and face screened by her long hair, her voice barely registered and Buffy strained to hear her. 

“Is…is W here?  I’m so worried, it just isn’t like her.  She’s never done this before.” 

“W?  Our W?  Why, Tara?  What do you know?”  Buffy’s voice was tense. 

“Know?  I don’t know anything.   She was supposed to meet me at the restaurant and she didn’t turn up…and I’ve tried ringing her.  I just need to know that she’s alright, William.  Please tell me she’s alright.” 

Spike was still puzzled but Buffy thought she knew what Tara was trying to say. 

“Tara…you and W… you’re more than friends, aren’t you?” 

Tara nodded, head bowed.  Buffy gestured at her husband to say something. 

“Hey, hey sweetheart!  Look at me.  I’m sorry, we didn’t know or we’d have got in touch with you right away.  I’m so stupid!  I should have realised, I mean with you coming to the wedding together…  Look Tara, there’s no point beating about the bush.  W’s been kidnapped.” 

Tara’s anguished cries echoed off the walls. 

CUT TO : the interior of an Aston Martin DB5, windows steamed up, a bare foot easily discernible on the windscreen.  The sound of a horn and a muffled “bloody hell!” then a giggle as the music is turned on.  Obvious sounds of kissing and skin on skin.  Barry White plays in the background – a gasp of horror.  “Oh sod it!  That’s really not helping the mood, Buffy!”  A female chuckle.  “Well, we did tell G we were going to do research…..” 

DOO.DOO.DOOOOOO; DOO.DOO.DOOOOOOO;DOO.DE.DOOOOOO

tbc...

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