Author : SpikesDeb aka Debs
Rating : NC17
Disclaimer: I bow down to the all-encompassing 
geniusness(?)...geniusism(?)...awesome talent that is Joss and his minions.  
I merely take the crumbs and try to bake up a cake.
A/N : This chapter really made me giggle; I hope you find it amusing too.  I 
just keep thinking of G's face.....*chuckle*
Shoutouts : NanaLou - thank you for polishing my words, for everything and 
for sharing the delicious experience of JM over the last week.  Can still 
feel his arms round me....can you?

_________________________________________________________

MR KISS KISS GANG BANG CHAPTER 4
_________________________________________________________

Buffy had settled Tara in the spare room of their apartment, making sure she 
was out cold before closing the door.  She'd sat with her for a while, held 
her hand as she spoke hesitantly of her worries, her fears for her captured 
lover.  Buffy asked her sister-in-law how they had first become involved, 
the soft smile of the vampire bringing a glow to her face.

"Oh, well...William was presented with an award -- do you remember, you were 
there I think -- when he dusted all those vampires at the Bronze, he got 
that burnished stake...he laughed about that, G's idea I believe, a bit of a 
joke?"

Buffy nodded.  She'd been there alright, ablaze with arousal remembering her 
contribution to the mission, the kisses, the wanton miss he'd awoken with 
his first touch in the Bronze...the fortnight of moonlit lovemaking after it 
was all over.  Oh yes, she remembered.  She'd been bursting with the urge to 
scream it out loud, show everyone her bite marks.  And when he'd caressed 
the wood and quirked his eyebrow at her – she'd had the tiniest orgasm; it 
was the stroke of those knowing fingers that did it... just like ringing a 
bell for Pavlov's dog...soaked panty time... again...

Tara was still speaking.  Buffy snapped herself out of the alluring memories 
and focused on the woman in front of her.

"...and she just asked me, casually, for my number.  Said it was in case she 
ever needed to get hold of William.  I didn't think anything of it at the 
time – truth be told, I was hard pressed to remember my name when she looked 
at me."

Buffy smiled.  She knew that feeling well.

"But...afterwards, I dared to hope.   Well, he's a spy!  What would she need 
my number for when he's got all this super-spy stuff?  So, I let myself have 
a secret dream that really it was just an excuse and she wanted my number 
for me."

Her voice tailed off as the tears began again.  Buffy shushed her, held her 
while she cried.

"She rang two days later," she continued tremulously, "spoke absolute 
nonsense for a while then just casually asked me to dinner."

"W's a cool customer alright.  We know absolutely nothing about her private 
life.  N, Buffy wrapping her legs around him and meeting his 
hips with her own.  The dual penetration, and his slow pace, quickly brought 
her simmering on the edge of completion.

This felt different than usual; they were clinging to each other, wrapping 
each other so close there was no space between their bodies.  Buffy 
whispered against his shoulder as he increased his pace, telling him how she 
loved him, could never leave him, begged him to never leave her.  Spike 
reassured her with his actions, his mouth still busily worshipping her neck. 
  Her shallow breaths told him she was on the edge and he withdrew his fangs 
to watch her face as she came.  Her eyelids were fluttering open and closed, 
mouth open as she panted her pleasure.  One more thrust and she screamed his 
name, her fingers biting into the globes of his ass where she gripped him.  
Spike let go, the muscles of her pussy milking him as he pumped her full of 
semen.

He fell against her, tongue laving the punctures and sending tingles through 
her to her toes.  She nuzzled up against him, one hand stroking his muscled 
chest as she cuddled into his side.

"William...did that feel different to you?  Desperate almost?"

"Know what you mean, kitten.  Couldn't help thinking what I'd feel like if 
you'd been taken.  Guess I just wanted to reassure myself you were really 
here."

"I'm here; I'll always be here.  But poor Tara.  We have to do something."

"And we will.  But rest now; it's been a long day. First thing in the 
morning we'll head out."  Buffy snuggled against him, exhaustion overtaking 
her as her husband pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++=

Cordelia Chase stood to attention as the front door almost banged back off 
its hinges heralding the arrival of Spike and Buffy Blond.  She quickly 
averted her gaze, not wanting to be accused of giving the best – and hottest 
– spy in the business anything approaching a 'look'.  No, Buffy Blond seemed 
more than ready to make good her threats and she quite liked her head where 
it was, thank you – on her shoulders.

"Chase.  Any news?" Spike Blond barked at her, but finished it off with a 
wink.

Gulp.

"Erm...nothing yet, 00666, but G and the department heads are meeting in 
Requisitions.  Shall I alert them that you're on your way?"

"No need; we'll sneak up on them, see if they're on their toes.  Buffy?"

He breezed past the desk, Cordy's head spinning as she inhaled his scent of 
masculinity and expensive cologne.  She licked her lips, leaning forwards 
instinctively – until she caught sight of Buffy's stern face.  Suddenly, she 
found she had elsewhere to be, grabbing a pile of papers and scurrying to 
the back of the shop.

Buffy smiled to herself.  This jealous wife bit was fun.  Gripping her 
husband's arm they made their way through to the classified section of HQ 
and down to the quartermaster's operations room.

"Scan complete: genus – vampire; ID – Blond, Spike aka William.  Licensed to 
kill – Agent 00666.  Clearance – level 1.  Enter."

"See, baby, I told you hooking up with me would open doors!"

He swept into the inner sanctum with a grin splitting his face; Buffy rolled 
her eyes and groaned.

"May I remind you, 00666, that not only do I have the same clearance as you, 
but I set up your clearance in the first place – and could just as easily 
take it away?"

Spike chuckled.  "Yeah, I know – you're the boss, you hold the whip hand.  
Speaking of which...

He kissed his wife soundly, grabbing her to him to grind his seemingly 
permanent erection against her heated mound.  Buffy brought her arms up to 
clasp him to her, forgetting momentarily that they were in the middle of G's 
workshop...and surrounded on all sides by gawking agents.

"Ahem, Blond, old chap...glad you could make it."

Spike opened his eyes, noting Buffy's blush.  He moved away from her 
slightly, biting his lip as she giggled. Oh, that giggle – not helping with 
the current walking difficulties, due to the restriction at his groin. He 
gestured downwards with his eyes and she glanced down.  Her eyes widened as 
she noted the ample bulge spoiling the line of his designer trousers.  No 
way was she going to let everyone know he had the Eighth Wonder of the World 
in there!

She turned her back on Blond and he pulled her against him, using her as a 
shield so that he could pull himself together.  Unfortunately, pulling her 
against him brought her pert rear into intimate contact with his straining 
problem.  He groaned, a strangled noise, into her ear.

This wouldn't do at all.  A minute went by.  Buffy grinned nervously at the 
assembly and Spike kept butting at her shoulder with his forehead, battling 
gamely with his rebellious cock.  But, as usual, any time spent in the 
vicinity of Buffy's hot little body gave it a mind of its own and it wasn't 
listening to daddy.  Realising that there was only one solution, Spike 
started to walk backwards, pulling Buffy with him.  Just before the security 
door closed, Buffy gave a bright smile.  "Be right back!"

G stared at the closed door, somewhat nonplussed.  He hadn't a clue what had 
just happened but he felt a heat flush his cheeks nonetheless.  With Blond 
it was guaranteed to be risquT, even more so since he'd hooked up with Buffy 
Summerpenny.

"Ahem, yes...quite.  Well, don't just stand about.  You all know your orders.  
I'm sure 00666 and Summerpenny...I mean Blond...will be back once they've 
handled the immediate problem."

Loud guffaws greeted his announcement and he scurried off to the sanctuary 
of his corner room to hide his blushes.

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

"Well, that was embarrassing..."

"Erm...yeah, but still he doesn't do the decent thing and go to sleep... Hey, 
Captain Picard! – time to stand down"

"Well if you stopped stroking him, maybe he would!  Buffy!  Have you any 
idea what you do to me?"

"Hmm; I think I'm getting the picture.  Shall we see what we can do to ease 
the situation?"

Spike's reply remained mute in his throat as Buffy dropped to her knees and 
unzipped him, gripping his cock in her fist and flashing him a wicked smile. 
  His eyes bored into her as she placed a quick kiss on the tip, flicking 
her tongue across the end to collect the drops of pre-cum that glistened in 
the stark light of the store cupboard.

"There, there...so pretty.  All better now?"

"Not really, Buffy...bit worse to be honest...for god's sake, woman, have pity!"

She laughed, a throaty sound that made him shiver to the bone.  God she was 
sexy!

All thoughts were eclipsed, however, when her hot mouth enveloped his 
erection, her sucking and licking driving him to distraction.  He gripped 
the back of her head with one hand, the other leaning against the door to 
stop himself crashing to the floor.  Spike began to thrust into her mouth, 
his eyes rolling back in his head at the pleasure her tongue and lips were 
giving him.  When she brought her free hand up to cup his balls he was lost, 
unable to do anything but gurgle her name as he shot his load down her 
greedy throat.

He sagged against the wall, Buffy's head still gripped in one hand as she 
lapped at his softening cock to collect all of his come.  Sitting back on 
her heels, she looked at him with adoration as she wiped her mouth drawing 
every last drop inside.  A stray dribble was licked up and a movement at his 
groin drew her attention.

"Oh no, not again...we have work to do.  Down, boy...I mean it, now!"

Spike closed his eyes, willing himself to forget the sight of her hot, pink 
tongue darting out to lick at his come as it ran down from her lips.  
Aaaargh!  God, think of something else...something horrific...

Weisswurst. Angelus' hair. Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang.  W.  Tara, broken and 
afraid.

He zipped himself up, reaching down to pull his wife to her feet.

"Better now?"

"Much; and we do have work to do as you say.  Shall we?"

She knew that look.  William, her husband, had left the building; 00666 was 
in charge now.  God help the bad guys.

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

"Ah, good, you're awake.  So glad you could join us.  Can I get you 
something to drink, a snack maybe?  You know you really should keep your 
strength up for the forthcoming nuptials.  You'll need it.  My employer has 
a reputation for taking his time – plenty of stamina but sadly lacking in 
technique.  Takes days, apparently."

The smug face of the man in front of her was almost as unsettling as the 
warty features of her prospective husband.  Slimy.  That was what he was.  
Well dressed in a rather camp, lounge lizard way, but slimy.  And his accent 
was familiar....

"Do I know you, Mr...?"

"I don't believe so; maybe by reputation..."

He bowed, obviously expecting her to gasp in recognition.  Silence.

"No doubt the spymaster has heard of the dangerously dashing Ethan Rayne?"

"Sorry; not that I recall."

He blinked, nonplussed.  "But surely....doesn't Rupert Giles work with you?"

"Do you mean...G?  You know G?"

"We go back a long way -- great pals – we shared rooms when we were up at 
university.  Yes, many's the time I'd get into a scrape wreaking havoc only 
to have old Rupes try to rein me in.  I can't believe he's never mentioned 
me..."

"Sorry."

"Oh.  Well, that's a disappointment.  No matter...he'll remember me when we 
meet later."

W's heart leapt in her chest.  G...in danger.  He was her best friend, had 
been for years.   Hell, she'd even been tempted to take him up on his offers 
of a date...until she'd realised that if she did, chances are they'd be eyeing 
up the same waitress.  But she felt cold at the thought of him being 
attacked.

"Why G?  You have me... why involve him?"

"What's that...do I detect an affaire du coeur?  Oh, this is priceless!  
Wonderful!  I'll be sure to pass on my congratulations as I torture him."

"No, I just...he's a colleague, nothing more.  But you leave him alone."

"Oooh, scary - I'm shaking.  Well, well, fancy old Rupes having a young 
filly to sniff around.  He always was a dark horse.  But...can't hang about, 
need to be off and causing mayhem in one hour at...don't tell me --  I bet you 
call it HQ, right?"

W just stared at him, venom building in her eyes.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure he gets your message.  I'll send him your best. 
  Bye W, don't wait up!"

His maniacal laughter faded as he left her chained up in the cavern.  W 
seethed, wrenching at the manacles in a futile attempt to get loose. But 
wait...he said an hour.  That meant she must be still in Sunnydale, but where? 
  Frantically she tried to replay in her mind all the sounds and smells 
she'd noted since regaining consciousness.  She sobbed in a rare unguarded 
moment as all she could recall was the stench of her husband-to-be.

Where was Spike Blond?

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

"Right, so now the giggles have stopped..." Spike shot a look that would 
freeze mercury at a particularly jovial member of the supplies team who 
hovered on the verge of hysteria "...what do we have, G?"

"Not much, Blond.  I have the technicians calibrating all our sensors to 
seek out a female human, but as we don't know where to start looking..."

His answer tailed off.  Spike could see the despair behind his eyes and 
placed a comforting hand on G's shoulder.

G smiled at him, acknowledging the gesture.

Then all hell let loose, sirens and lights filling the shop floor.

"Intruder alert, in the Magic Box!  Move it!" 00666 bellowed and everybody 
remembered their training, scattering to their allotted tasks.

G grabbed at a clump of seemingly random tubes, the first thing to hand, and 
followed Blond out to the shop.  He skidded to a halt as he recognised the 
reason for the palaver.  Ethan Rayne.

"Rupert, old chap.  Do you have a minute?"

TBC


CUT TO:  the store cupboard, the sound of shelves rattling rhythmically and 
items crashing to the floor.  A pale hand grips a shelf support, a sharply 
indrawn breath and a muttered "Bugger!".

"Hey, Mr Blond.....if you can't take the heat...."

"That a challenge?  Hey, can't beat Agent...oh...oh...fuck..."

Giggles, ecstatic cries, sounds of flesh on flesh....

Screeches as a sprinkler gushes water all over the heated flesh of the 
lurkers in the cupboard.

"Erm, Buffy.........not funny...."


DOO.DOO.DOOOOOOOOOOOOOO; DOO.DOO.DOOOOOOOOOOOOOO; DOO.TE.DOOOO

CHAPTER 5/?

The air crackled with tension, all eyes fixed on the flamboyant stranger in
their midst and the shocked figure of G standing facing the intruder.

"Ethan Rayne.  I might have known you'd resurface one day!"

"Ah, so you haven't forgotten me.  I did wonder since the succulent Miss W
had no idea who I was.  Hardly seems credible, does it?"

Blond stepped forward, grabbing the faux silk shirt in his fists and lifting
Rayne off his feet.  "I think you'd be wise to tell us what you know about
W!"

Rayne tried to keep calm; but the snarling features of the agent -- who
could only be the infamous Spike Blond, 00666, licensed to kill – was like
icy water trickling down his spine.  The way his eyes kept flickering from
icy blue to amber didn't help either.  And weren't his teeth just a little
bit too long and pointy?

"Ripper, old man...do tell your witless thug to put me down."

G fought against the urge to let the vampire follow his baser instincts and
rip out the man's throat.  But Rayne was there with a purpose – and
obviously knew something about W.

"Blond.  Put him down; we should hear what he has to say."

The spy threw the man away from him, growling as he wiped his hands on his
jacket.

"Happy to oblige, G -- who'd have thought they still made shirts out of
polyester?" he grimaced.  "Okay, Rayne, make it snappy. I'm not in the mood
for games.  And it's nearly time for my lunch..."

Spike allowed his demon to show through, his forehead ridging momentarily
and his fangs sharpening to lethal points.  He noted the man's racing heart
and the waves of fear flowing off him with satisfaction.  The git was an
absolute sewer!  Just this once he may forget his 'do no harm to humans'
rule.  And anyway, creepoid scarcely registered as a person in his book.

Ethan Rayne swallowed, masking his panic with feigned amusement.  When he
was through with this job for Weisswurst, he promised himself he'd take a
little 'me' time and turn the arrogant – and yet admittedly suave – vampire
to dust.  Just for fun, no profit.  That'd be a first....

"What do you want, Rayne? And no sudden moves."

"I'd prefer to deal with the organ grinder, not his pet monkey..." his voice
trailed off to a chuckle.

G was making a great show of assembling some gadget of unknown genus, which
he raised and pointed in Rayne's direction.  Puzzled looks shot through the
assembled agents and clerks alike as they eyed the...what looked remarkably
like a dildo...that G held in his left hand.  Buffy's eyes widened in alarm as
she watched his grip tighten on the...balls...of the extremely phallic weapon
that magically rose from a 45 angle to a perky 90 as G
squeezed.

"Well, well, Rupert, congratulations!" Ethan drawled.  "I see you finally
got round to inventing that spermopositor you were always daydreaming about.
  You won't even need batteries by the look of it.  First rate."

"Enough!  This weapon has just scanned your body mass and is capable of
melting your shirt or flaying every square inch of skin from your sorry
body, and yet leave your heart still beating inside your crumbling skeleton
-- so I'd be a little more respectful if I were you.  Where's W?"

G moved forwards, Blond stepping aside and circling round to stand the other
side of the cocky Ethan Rayne.  Rayne eyed the two of them from beneath
lowered eyelashes, every inch the cocky and assured villain, mouth curved
into a smirk.  But Spike could sense the hidden fear, could hear his
increased heart rate.  His demon bridled under the enforced bonds of his
moral control, his features stuck somewhere in between totally human and
totally vampire.  Slightly elongated fangs and eyes flashing from blue to
gold were the only signs of his mutinous demon.  Buffy felt the pull of his
struggle through the claim and quietly moved to take his hand, her fingers
interlocking with his and giving him the strength to regain full control.

He couldn't stifle the growl as Rayne spoke.

"Tut-tut, Rupert.  You're slipping.  What happened to the star recruit, the
straight A student who aced every assignment given to us poor unfortunates
back in Fort Monkton?  Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you win the
Queen's Prize for Solo Search and Retrieval three years on the trot?  Oh,
how the mighty have fallen!"

G gestured with the weapon he clasped in his hands and Rayne made a big show
of ignoring him.  Blond's snarl soon changed his mind, however, and he
sauntered over to the chair indicated by his former colleague.  The vampire
made quick work of tying him to the chair, lashing the bonds around his
wrists and feet securely and maybe a little tighter than necessary.

"Now, Rayne, I suggest you start talking.  Where is W?"

"There's no need to kill the messenger.  I am merely here to deliver
greetings from the exalted Weisswurst on the occasion of his nuptials to W,
Titian-haired Queen of His Hearts.  In deference to her inauspicious
origins, I am authorised by the Great Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang to invite one
of your number to the ceremony to take place the day after tomorrow."

Blond, G and Buffy exchanged glances.  An invitation to the wedding? This
had to be a joke.

"Rayne, am I to believe that your 'lord and master' is actually expecting us
to join him in celebrating this charade of a marriage to W?  Is he insane?"

"Well, yes...actually; I'd have thought that was obvious.  Rupert, I'm simply
winged Mercury, sent to inform you that at 12 noon the day after tomorrow, a
single lucky wedding guest will be collected from here and conveyed to join
in the blessed ceremony.  Oh, and if you don't release me, W won't live to
enjoy her perfect day."

Blond smiled as he spoke, his face mere inches from Rayne's.  "Contrary to
appearances, I'm sure you're not quite stupid enough to think we can't
persuade you to talk.  You'd be surprised what we can achieve with a little
helpful... encouragement!"

"Rupert, old thing – don't you have a muzzle for your Rottweiller?  He talks
posh but this shirt doesn't do well with slobber.  The reason why you won't
carry through on your charmingly phrased threat, vampire, is that if I don't
return within the hour, the delightful Ms W will meet an unhappy accident. 
Capische, Slugger?"

"Blond.  Leave him be.  We can't afford to risk W.  Untie him."

Quashing his frustration, Spike undid the ropes holding Rayne to the chair
and yanked him roughly to his feet.  The rip of the shirtsleeve as he did so
enraged Ethan Rayne but went some way towards soothing the vampire's demon. 
Such a petty pleasure, but that shirt was just begging to be put out of its
misery.

Ethan inspected the damage and smoothed down his cuffs as he moved towards
the door.  "I hope you don't fight like this over the invite; I'm sure she'd
be delighted to see any one of you on her special day.  Be seeing you."

And he was gone.

There was shocked silence for a moment until the well-oiled machinery kicked
in.  Soon, everyone was scurrying about to their allotted tasks. Buffy, G
and Blond met up in the middle of the shop.

"Well?  Why am I still standing here, G, and not tracking the fucking
fashion-challenged dickhead who knows where W is?"

"Well for one, Blond...see that big ball of blazing fire up there in the sky? 
That might be a good enough reason, don't you think?  And no amount of
necro-tinted glass is going to help you if he goes places the car won't. 
And another; there's no need."

"What?"

Buffy and Spike Blond spoke at the same time, puzzled faces turned to G who
smiled smugly.

"Well, while you were flashing him the fang and tearing his ghastly shirt, I
was actually listening to what he was saying.  Earlier I told you we were
calibrating the sensors to search for a human female but we didn't know
where?  Well, now we do.  Or at least we know it's no further than an hour
away..."

Spike Blond chuckled.

"You sly old dog!  Was that what you were doing whilst I was being
intimidating?  What have you found out?"

"A moment.  Miss Chase!"

"I'm here, the readout's coming up.  Nice thinking, G.  With the time span
known and the sensors already primed, the backroom boys have made fast work
of it.  I'll print it off now."

Tense seconds ticked away as the printer whirred.  Then they had it, the
likely position of W.

"The cheeky sod!  She's practically right underneath us!  No more than an
hour?  It's not even ten minutes.  Right, I'm off – who's with me?"

"Hold on, 00666.  We have to be alert to the possibility that Rayne planned
this all along and it's a false trail.  Although he was never that sneaky in
the Service, didn't have the brainpower; still – best do an equipment check
and call in backup.   I know you want to get going but you must be prepared.
  Cordelia, get Harris to come in immediately – pull him off the job he's on
and replace him with Agent Whedon.  I'll be in my lab."

Buffy and Spike watched the maelstrom of movement carrying on around them as
they stood in the middle of the room, an island of seeming calm.  Buffy
reached for her husband's hand.  He was going into danger again; she wanted
to go with him but she knew she'd be of more use here coordinating the hunt.
  Cordelia Chase was certainly showing promise – despite Buffy's original
misgivings about the girl – but this was too important to entrust to anyone
else.  So she'd have to watch him go out of the door again, not knowing
when, or if, he would return.

And then there was Tara.  She deserved to be kept abreast with developments;
she must be going mad with worry.  It seemed that Spike's thoughts were
going the same way as his wife's as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Buffy...Tara..."

"I know.  I'm sending a car for her; I want her to be here.  She needs to be
with people who love her.  Don't worry.  Now scoot!  Go see what goodies G
has for you."

Spike cupped Buffy's cheek, imprinting her face again on his memory as she
rubbed against his palm.  Slowly he leaned in to capture her lips in a soft
and tender kiss, whispering to her as he did so.

"I'll be back later, Mrs Blond...don't undress without me...."

With a final kiss to her forehead, he swept out of the shop and through to
the back room.

Cordelia watched the exchange between the two and sighed.  Yep, Spike Blond
was definitely off the menu...time to turn her attention to other tasty
morsels.  Locating Xander Harris' file, she keyed in his pager number with a
smile.  He'd do nicely.

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

An hour later they were all set.  Blond and Harris were decked out in black
stealth gear including the latest in sensor-reflective technology.  Blond's
platinum hair was covered with the balaclava he had yet to draw down over
his face, and looking at the identically clad figure of his brother spy, he
decided he must look like a complete pillock.

"We look like a couple of bleedin' mime artistes, G!  Is this the best you
can come up with?"

"Trust me, Blond, once you're completely covered, including the night vision
visors, you'll be able to rush through the caverns to W's side without
detection.  I'm really rather proud of the material.  You see it has a layer
of heat reflective implants that are impervious to..."

"I tell you what, G, save the dissertation for later.  I get it.  I'll play.
  What else do you have for us?"

"Ah, well – the weapon I was threatening Rayne with earlier; it really is
rather effective.  I fail to understand why everybody giggles when I get it
out.  It's very comfortable in the hand.  Try it."

Tentatively, Spike reached for the 'gun' held loosely in G's grip. 
Thankfully, despite its appearance it wasn't the least flaccid but cool and
metallic to the touch.  He squeezed the sac-like protuberance as he'd seen G
do earlier and the muzzle of the gun leapt from 45 to the perky
90 that enabled it to fire.

The chuckle from Harris had Blond almost dropping the thing.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing.  Just seems to me it's not the first time you've had your
hand wrapped quite so intimately around a..."

"Harris!  Well, you should know.....but my lips are sealed!"  00666 rolled his
eyes and grinned at the one-eyed spy's bewilderment as he was handed his own
weapon.

G shook his head, exasperated at the childish name-calling and pseudo
flirting going on. "Any chance of the two of you growing up in the next ten
minutes?  As interesting as your veiled allusions to your, I'm no doubt
non-existent, shared sexual history is, there's a job to do...."

"Looks like we're both bollocksed up!  Come on - let's get to it.  You good
to go?"  Xander grinned as he holstered his Penis-o-Pistol at his hip.

"Yep; let's head 'em up and move 'em out.  There's a damsel to be rescued."

A final equipment check and the two spies slipped out the back door to the
parking garage and the entrance to the sewers and caverns that comprised the
underbelly of Sunnydale.

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

Cordelia was becoming exasperated.  Every time she tried to look at a
readout, view a monitor, she felt Buffy hovering behind her.  It was
disconcerting to say the least.  Hadn't she trained just as much as the
former Miss Summerpenny? She might be new at the job but she was just as
qualified.  Eventually, she'd had enough.

"Look, Buffy – I do know what I'm doing.  Can you just let me do my job? 
And besides, the boys are off sensors, as you well know, because of the
suits.  They'll contact us when they can; but for now could you just back
off?"

Buffy was about to put her straight about a few things – then stopped.  The
brunette was right.  She was doing everything by the book, faultless.  Buffy
couldn't have done anything differently.  But it was just hard, being left
behind and unable to do anything.

"Cordelia, I know.  I'm sorry.  It's just...it's W and my husband out there. 
I have to be sure they get every backup they need."

"And they will. Trust me.  I'm not just a pretty face..."

Buffy gave her the first genuine smile since they'd met.  Maybe she should
get off her case; after all, wasn't her fault she'd been attracted to her
husband – hell, the girl would have to be comatose not to want him.  Not
that she was about to relax around her; the leggy brunette had somewhat of a
reputation as a man-eater.  In fact, she'd suit Harris to a tee...

Right then, the bell over the front door tinkled heralding the arrival of
Blond's sister.  Buffy rushed to her side, hugging her and explaining
exactly what was going on.  She settled her at the table and arranged for
someone to bring her a mug of blood, then went to check on G.  Hopefully
he'd be able to tell her exactly where her mate was right now.

++++

"Anything, G?"

"Ah, Buffy...no, not yet.  I expect they're just about at her position now so
I'm not really expecting anything just yet.  I suppose it's redundant to
tell you to relax?"

"Pretty much."

"Well then; could you pass me that probe?  I'm keeping myself busy...."

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

W bowed her head, panting for breath.  She'd spent hours screaming for
somebody to come.  Her throat was raw and scratchy and she was desperate for
a drink.  She'd tried threats, promising dire retribution when MI13 found
them.  She'd resorted to the threat of Weisswurst's anger when they
discovered how poorly they'd treated his fiancée.  Hey, she'd use whatever
she could; she was a strategist.  Nothing had brought a response, though,
and she was seriously dehydrated now.

She heard footsteps, raised her head hopeful of seeing a cool glass of water
coming into view.

"Oh.  It's you.  Well, let me just say..." she croaked, "that your boss isn't
going to be happy.  'Everything dat you need' he told me; well I need a
fricking drink!"

"Ah, dear W, where are my manners.  Of course, allow me."

With a flourish, Rayne poured water into a chipped glass and held it to her
parched lips.  W gulped noisily, draining the entire glass and coughing when
the cool water met her tortured throat.

"Better?"

She nodded the affirmative, closing her eyes but unable to halt the tear
that slipped down her cheek.  How long had she been here?  Where was here? 
Was she even in Sunnydale?  She thought she was, from what this slimeball
had told her earlier.  But surely if she was, the cavalry would have come
over the hill and rescued her before now.  She just didn't know.  Time was
all mixed up.

Rayne prattled on but she blocked him out with thoughts of her icy maiden,
visions of Tara, her soft smile and gentle manner soothing her as she was
forced to listen to his whining.  Tara! God, what must she think – she'd
have gone to the restaurant and thought she'd been stood up.  And she
wouldn't know what was going on...unless Blond...but why would he even think
to...God!  She had to get out of here.

"Ethan Rayne...is it?"  Her voice was still croaky.  "So...you know G?  You said
you were at school with him?"

"Ah yes – happy days.  Oh, he's terribly worried for you by the by.  Was
quite commanding earlier, I can see what you see in him.  His pet vampire
however, how on earth does he get all the ladies in a lather?  A bit long in
the tooth for my liking."

W's heart started to race. He'd been to HQ; maybe they'd followed him, maybe
her cavalry was just rounding the hill.

"Oh, I imagine you'll see him in a couple of days.  I extended the wedding
invite to the group – just one representative – but I can't see old Rupert
giving up the chance to play the hero, even if it will be the most pitiful
attempt ever.  He may even try a Mrs Robinson trick at the back of the
church...except we won't be in a church.  Oh, the dramatic possibilities are
endless!  I may sell the rights to Hollywood!"

W lowered her head again.  Another insane jailer. Why do villains always
play to type?  Was there an unwritten rule?  Still, if he was true to form,
he was about to set out the entire plan so that when the cavalry drew to a
halt and dismounted she'd be able to fill them in.  She obviously needed to
do some 'helpless maiden fearful of her life' prompting.  It wouldn't really
be a stretch in her position.

"Where will the wedding take place?  If I'm about to experience a girl's
happiest day, surely I should know about the ceremony."

"Well, won't do any harm I suppose.  Actually, you're in for a treat –
you're off to Austria – Weisswurst's hometown, Salzburg.  Very scenic city –
all trees, mountain peaks, and yodelling.  His family's sacrificial altar
has been lying ready for this blessed day for decades.  He has quite the
following there, you know.  In fact, thanks for reminding me...it's about time
you were on your way.  From the smell of you it's going to take quite some
prettifying to get you ready to walk down the aisle."

W's horrified eyes registered his clicking fingers as he summoned four
demons to let her down from the manacles and bundle her off through the
caves.  Her mind screamed 'nooooooooooooo' as she realised that even if
Rayne had been tracked, by the time the posse got there she'd be long gone...

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

Blond and Harris emerged from the cavern they'd crawled through just in time
to hear Rayne's words echo off the stone walls.  By the time they'd
scrambled through the maze of linking passages and into the opening, all
that remained was a set of swinging manacles and the stale smell of
captivity.

Blond snarled; "Fuck!!! We have to follow them; move your arse, Harris!"

The one-eyed agent leant against the rough cavern wall and lit up a cigar. 
Taking a deep drag he chuckled.

"Hey, Blondster – no worries.  Looks like we're taking another trip to
Austria.  You got a tux or you need a rental?"

TBC

*cut to*

Spike Blond standing in the middle of the room, arms outstretched as female
hands fiddle with his collar, his cuffs.  His bow tie is adjusted from
behind.  A strangled cry emerges from his throat.

"Bloody hell, Buffy!"

A slurp.  "Sorry honey; but you were spoiling the line of the trousers......I
had to get you nicely positioned now......didn't I?"

DOO . DOO . DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO; DOO . DOO . DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO; DOO . TE. DOOOO





 

More Spike Blond ........:D

TITLE : Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang – Chapter 6
AUTHOR : SpikesDeb <spikesgirl_453@hotmail.com>
RATING : NC17
DISCLAIMER : Spike, Buffy et al are the delicious imaginings of Joss Whedon 
and ME.  Lucky buggers.  I'm just borrowing to bend to my wicked will.
SHOUTOUTS:  Once again NanaLou – who prettied up and  basically enhanced the 
humour tenfold.  She's a wicked funny woman.
FEEDBACK : Always gratefully received; it's like a drug.

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

The crackle from the loudspeaker drew a crowd of eager listeners.  Many of 
them shook their heads as the familiar one-upmanship of the service's two 
top spies bristled along the airwaves.

"No – I'll do it, Harris.  Move out of the way."

"But I've already got it...leave go!"

There was an obvious tussle, the sound of slaps and what could have been a 
kick to a shin resulting in a 'bastard!'  Then a British voice...

"G?  This is 00666 and 0013 reporting in.  We found..."

The whoops of the gathered audience drowned out Blond's next words.   G 
frantically shushed the room, joined by Buffy Blond and her very vampiric 
sounding growl.

That got the desired result, not to mention shocked faces.

"Do you copy, G?  Are you there?"

"I'm here, Blond; is she alright?"

A beat.

"Gimme it... you're taking forever.  Harris here, G, she's gone."

A collective indrawn breath.

"Gone...you don't mean..."

"Nice one, you tosser!  Sorry about that, G, no...not gone as in ceased to 
be...just as in been moved, and recently by the looks of things.  This will be 
easier if we come in and report.  We'll be there in 45 minutes -- got some 
housekeeping to take care of first, we could both do with a bit of a 
workout."

"Understood.  Have that."

The transmission ended, static zinging through the room.  G reached for the 
switch and flicked it off.

Buffy Blond let go the breath she didn't know she'd been holding as she 
realised she'd see her husband in less than an hour.  She could imagine what 
the 'housekeeping' actually meant; whatever Blond and Harris were doing, she 
doubted that either would be in pristine condition when they returned.  More 
like covered in demon gunk and other unmentionables.  It didn't matter, just 
as long as they came home.

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

Spike Blond slipped the slim, black pen/transmitter into the concealed 
pocket of his stealth suit.  Got to give it to G, he had a nifty line in 
dual-purpose gadgets.  Speaking of...

"So, Harris. You think you've got a handle on these things?"  Blond had 
taken out the embarrassingly phallic weapon and was weighing it in his hand.

"Well, by the way you're feeling it up, it's gonna shoot its load any 
second, pal.  Kindly stroke your spermatrator somewhere other than in my 
direction."

Spike quirked his eyebrow, "Know a lot about things going off prematurely, 
do you?"

"What can I say, Bleach boy.  Jund he couldn't help the smile that came 
to his lips.  He still had it...

So it came as a surprise when his petite wife shoved him with such force 
that he bounced back into the wall, and was about to whimper at the loss of 
contact with her lips and pert breasts.  She was on him in a second, 
thrusting one leg in between his and grinding her groin against his thigh as 
she attacked his mouth with sharp teeth and hot tongue.  Buffy kept nipping 
at his lips, not allowing him to gain full contact in the kiss and it was 
driving him insane.  A strangled growl burst from his throat as he fought 
the urge to dominate her.  Demons didn't play well with teasing, being more 
of the "WANT. TAKE. HAVE." mentality and he was going crazy from not being 
in control!

Thankfully, just when his fangs threatened to spring out and leave her with 
a pierced tongue – which if rumour was correct was a whole new sensation for 
the lucky lickee – she relented and pressed her lips fully to his.  Soft 
flesh moulded in familiar ways, Buffy's hands snaking up around Spike's neck 
to pull him deeper into the kiss.  Oh he liked this; judging by the 
throbbing erection digging into the soft flesh of her abdomen he liked it a 
lot.  She still had it...

Buffy broke away to drag in air and he seized his chance while she was 
gasping.  She squealed in shock when she suddenly found herself effortlessly 
tossed over his shoulder and being carried over to W's highly polished desk. 
  She heard a clatter and out of the corner of her eye saw Spike's arm sweep 
papers and pens onto the floor.  Unceremoniously deposited onto the surface, 
she had little time to wriggle away from the sharp edge of the intercom 
before her skirt was shoved up and cool fingers were drawing her panties to 
one side.  She gasped at the touch he shivered across her clit, her back 
arching and allowing him the opportunity to settle between her legs.  
Buffy's panting warred with the rasp of Spike's zipper, her moan of pleasure 
as he pushed slowly into her tight pussy building as he started to rock 
against her.  Her legs came up to wrap around him and keep him captive.  
This was way better than arguing...

In moments she was at fever pitch, little whimpers, whispered names and 
endearments leaving her lips.  Spike felt her flutter and ripple around his 
thickened cock and he moved faster, harder, the desk drawers rattling as he 
pounded her across its surface, her fingers gripping the edge to stop 
herself sliding away from him.  Her climax ambushed her suddenly, her 
internal muscles wringing him almost painfully and sending him ecstasy bound 
with her with a roar of completion.  Bloody hell, she was spectacular.

Sometimes fast and furious was so good.  Like when you were celebrating the 
safe return of your danger-loving husband.  Or when you wanted to distract 
your pissed-off wife.

Having regained her breath and smoothed down her clothing, Buffy sat on the 
edge of W's desk, her legs swinging as she swept her eyes appreciatively 
over the sight of Spike Blond tucking himself back into his designer 
trousers with a well-pleased smirk plastered on his face.  She knew what 
he'd done, how he'd decided to distract her from her anger at being 
dismissed as a weak and feeble woman who needed protection.  But right now, 
their mingled spendings slowly trickling down her thighs and in the 
afterglow of a bone-melting orgasm...she couldn't care less.

"William...Spike.  I'm coming with you."

He turned to face her, hands smoothing back his platinum curls.  His blue 
eyes were clouded with the emotions he was feeling; worry, concern, pride 
that she'd want to throw herself into the fight, satisfaction at their 
heated coupling – but most of all love.

"I know, love -- just don't want anything to happen to you."

"Well then, you know how I feel!  So no more of that pathetic 'little lady' 
stuff?  You'll give me the proper respect that my years of training and 
blindingly quick brain deserve?"

Spike laughed and shook his head.  What on earth had he done without this 
woman at his side?  He strolled towards her, bending down as he reached the 
desk with his arms either side of her.  Lips inches from hers he spoke.

"You have my respect, my admiration, but most of all – my heart and my love. 
  Always, Buffy.  Always."

A soft kiss.  A change of gear.  Now they were back to Superspy and 
protégée, all business as they left the devastation behind them and headed 
back to the shop floor.

G was a very deep shade of pink, 'aheming' and quite unable to meet the 
couple's eyes.  Furtive glances from the other occupants of the Magic Box 
had them puzzled.

"Is it my imagination, or are we being given strange looks?"

"Seems like, pet.  God knows why."

The buzz of noise and the muttered curses that crackled out of the speaker 
system as somebody had entered and noted the devastation in W's room 
connected the dots in both their brains at the same time.

"Oh my god! The intercom!  I must have knocked it when we..."

Xander Harris couldn't contain his laughter any longer.  "Oh man, you two 
are unbelievable, you sure know how to seize a moment.  And can I say, the 
acoustics in W's office have been very underrated."

Squealing with embarrassment, Buffy escaped to the ladies room to recover 
her equilibrium.  Spike Blond simply basked in the testosterone envy hitting 
him from every XY chromosome set in the room.

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

W could hear people moving around her, but the thick blindfold that Ethan 
Rayne had tied far more tightly than was necessary prevented her seeing 
anything.  Her head ached from the pressure of the cloth and her eyes had 
long since done the white spots thing.  She'd been unceremoniously 
unshackled from the wall just as she'd dared to hope rescue was on the 
horizon, and bundled into a blacked-out car.  As it sped away, Rayne 
sadistically tied the blindfold and whispered in her ear to cheer up and 
think about the happy prospect that the next sight she'd see would be her 
bridegroom in all his splendour.  Her sarcastic retort was cut off by a gag, 
which was tied with the same consideration as the blindfold had been.   Soon 
she'd been airborne in what she assumed was a plush private jet – certainly 
there'd been plenty of popping champagne corks and hideous laughter -- and 
she doubted even the residents of Sunnydale would allow a bound and gagged 
woman to be taken kicking and screaming onto a regular flight.

And now she was here in Salzburg, and about to be married to the revolting 
bag of pus known as Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang.

Tears slid unheeded down her face from beneath the blindfold.  Rayne had 
delighted in enlightening her on the finer details as they travelled, 
relishing her horror as she realised the full extent of the depraved fate 
that awaited her.  Weisswurst planned to impregnate her there and then as 
part of the wedding ceremony, the tradition of his people apparently, and it 
would do her no good praying that she wouldn't conceive.  Once the insane 
demon was in rut, he was a relentless performer – no matter how long it 
took.  Couple that with the pheromones he released and she'd be rendered 
helpless - a sick spectacle at the centre of her own waking nightmare.  The 
worst thing was that once she'd been exposed to the love scents, she'd lose 
all control and become an eager participant begging for his corrupt seed.  
W shuddered.  What she wouldn't give for a daring Spike Blond rescue round 
about now.  Allowing her mind to wander, making up one rescue scenario after 
the other, she settled back against the stinking mattress upon which she'd 
been laid and waited helplessly for her fate to be sealed.

TBC

*CUT TO : ...champagne flutes, confetti, two bands of gold.  An invitation 
with gold edge beneath the glasses declares that we are "Cordially invited..." 
   The whole idyllic setting is spattered with green goo and ruby red blood, 
sounds of battle in the background the soundtrack to the wedding feast.  
"Well, honey...got to hand it to Weisswurst – he certainly knows how to throw 
a party.  Mind if I have this?"  A strangled cry.  "Well – you did say I 
could hold my own...and this is my own, isn't it, Spike?"  "You could at least 
have washed your hands..."

DOO . DOO. DOOOOOOOOOOO . DOO . DOO . DOOOOOOOOOO. DOO . TE . DOOOOO

Been a while I know *kicks stupid RL* - but here's the penultimate chapter 
of Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang.  Enjoy!

TITLE : Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang -- Chapter 6
AUTHOR : SpikesDeb <spikesgirl_453@hotmail.com>
RATING : NC17
DISCLAIMER : Nothing belongs to me, I just worship at the feet of Joss and 
his cohorts.
CHAPTER : 7

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

G was alone in the Magic Box when Ethan Rayne breezed in sporting a leather 
flying jacket and white silk scarf.

"Delighted to see you, old man!  I take it you're the lucky bugger who's won 
the golden ticket to the wedding of the century?"  He eyed Giles' tweed 
pointedly, "I do hope you've packed your best bib and tucker."

"Oh just get on with it for god's sake.  I want to get this sad and sorry 
debacle over with."

"There's time a-plenty, Ripper, time a-plenty.  Besides, I've come 
personally to escort you; thought we could catch up, you know, reminisce 
while we travel.  I've even got your favourite Scotch.  We can party!"

"Judging by your get-up, I presumed you were planning to fly the bloody 
plane," Giles snapped.  "Listen, you prat.  I am going with you because I 
don't abandon my friends; I'm going with you because I need to see W.  I 
intend to do all I can to stop this farcical wedding, and you know it.  So 
don't think we're going to get all cosy in the limo.  It is a limo?"

"Of course."

"Of course; what else would it be?  Ever the exhibitionist.  See, I know 
you, Rayne.  You think you know me but you don't.  I admit that I dabbled in 
some questionable activities when I was a nanve young idiot and therefore 
blind to your self-serving opportunism.  But I'm not him anymore; I'm not 
Ripper.  Don't confuse me with the easily led fool you knew.  He's long 
gone."

Rayne nodded his head in acknowledgement, an oily smile playing around his 
lips.  The smile faded though at G's next words...

"But he'd like to come back."

And just for a moment, G looked at him with Ripper's eyes.  Chilling.

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

Harris, Whedon, Osbourne and the two Blonds dropped silently from the belly 
of the small jet under cover of darkness.  They'd flown into Salzburg and 
landed at a remote airfield, the jet now concealed in woodland to wait for 
the successful recovery of their lady leader.  The wedding was set to take 
place the following afternoon and they needed to discover where W was being 
held and be in position before then.  It was a motley crew; G had been 
surprised when Blond and Harris suggested that the two untried agents 
accompany them.  Blond had told him that Osborne had proven adept at 
cracking computer code and also was remarkably gifted at map reading and 
recalling coordinates and the like.  His skills may come in useful to be 
able to locate their position quickly.  And Whedon -- well he was the 
linguistics expert; he had a quick mind and despite his unassuming exterior, 
his imagination was in a constant whirl.  He'd be handy to have around if 
they needed to come up with a cover story or sweet talk some cops or such.  
If you needed a legend quickly, he was your man.

Buffy Blond had proven herself already, despite Spike's earlier faux pas 
regarding her ability.  He didn't doubt her; he just dreaded the thought of 
her being hurt.  So that meant that he wouldn't let her be hurt, would do 
everything he could to keep her safe.  But it had to be without her 
knowledge, because that way lurked a pop in the nose and chilly sheets once 
back at 'chez Blond'.  Harris -- well; other than Blond himself, Harris had 
clocked more field time than any other agent; and though he'd prefer to 
stake himself rather than admit it openly, Blond liked and admired him.  
There was also a hit squad on standby to do the wet work, but it took 
finesse to make the initial forays and bring back the intelligence.  
Slaughter would come.

They had the approximate coordinates of Weisswurst's ancestral pile, but had 
been unable to pinpoint the location of the family chapel in the extensive 
grounds.  That would be where Osborne came in, and possibly Whedon if they 
needed to seduce a little information out of a suggestible young thing.  The 
jet had set down some kilometres from the perimeter wall and after a hike 
cross country, it was an easy task with the equipment they carried to scale 
the twelve-foot stone wall that kept the world blissfully unaware of the 
gross and repulsive being that lived within.  The five spies dropped 
silently to the ground and pulled down the balaclavas to completely hide 
their faces. They all wore stealth suits that would allow them to sneak past 
most known security sensors.  Buffy crept round the wall behind Spike and 
had a hard time controlling the drool as he displayed his pert rear in the 
skin-tight material.

'Mmm...like a ripe peach, just waiting for my bite...grrr   Focus, Buffy!  Less 
lusty, more stealthy.'

Spike Blond's soft chuckle alerted her to the fact that he knew exactly what 
she was thinking.  Smarty-pants vampire!

"Hey!" Buffy hissed.  "Concentrate, 00666.  Less of the giggly."

"Well, if you stopped trying to get my pants off with the power of your mind 
alone, maybe I could."

"Guys!  Please!  We're supposed to be on a mission?  I'll take point, Buffy 
then Whedon then Osborne and you bring up the rear.  Alright, Blond?"

"Harris!  I'm impressed!  Very commanding for an amateur. What we waiting 
for then?  Let's go."

The five black-clad figures melted into the night, the occasional rustle of 
greenery or crack of a twig the only sounds as they crept forwards towards 
their prize.  Harris signalled a halt while Osborne verified coordinates and 
altered their path slightly.  After checking the map they had been supplied 
with - sadly lacking in detail but being diligently amended as they went by 
Osborne -- they headed towards the mansion.

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

W had finally been untied and the gag and blindfold removed.  One look at 
her surroundings and she wished they'd left the blindfold on.  The room she 
was in was a seduction chamber worthy of Cecil B de Mille; or rather it 
would be if the painted murals hadn't been XXX-rated.  Life-sized images of 
her repulsive soon-to-be-husband lined the walls; his hideous bulk contorted 
in unlikely 'erotic' adventures with a busty human female.  Her stomach 
churned and she was almost grateful for Rayne's petty cruelty in denying her 
anything to eat during the journey.  At least she couldn't make matters 
worse by adding vomit to the eye-watering decor.  She shuddered as her eyes 
couldn't help but be drawn to the explicit and colourful paintings.  As if 
in a trance she walked round on shaking legs examining each lurid tableau 
with sick fascination; it was then she realised that although the face of 
the male was the warty visage of Weisswurst, the female participant's face 
had been left blank.  W shot backwards, hand over her mouth to mask her 
horrified wail.  It was waiting for the bride to be chosen, waiting for her. 
  She sank to the floor, sobbing hopelessly.

After a few minutes' self-pity, she tried to pull herself together.  'This 
won't do... I have to be strong... oh Tara...'  Her breath hitched - if ever she 
needed a daring Spike Blond rescue, it was now.

+++

The quintet had reached the main building and was hunkered down in some 
shrubbery while Whedon scanned for video or other surveillance.  So far, so 
good.  They'd still not managed to pinpoint where W was being held but 
judging by the activity they'd spied on their way to their hiding place, 
they were getting close.  There'd been a steady stream of servants, both 
human and demon, toing and froing from the service entrance of the mansion 
bearing tables, chairs, flower arrangements, basically all the makings of a 
party for -- oh, say -- a wedding reception.  In the last twenty minutes 
there'd also been a number of well-dressed couples turning up at the massive 
front entrance.  It looked like Weisswurst was throwing a pre-nuptial bash.

Spike Blond was on edge.  He knew W was near; she had to be...this mission was 
too personal; his professional detachment was slipping.  He ached to vamp 
out and storm the place, but that wouldn't help matters and would probably 
get him and his companions killed.  But the demon inside him was restless 
for the kill.

"Whedon?  Anything?"

Agent Whedon shook his head in the negative.  "No, sir, nothing yet.  But I 
haven't finished scanning on the..."

"Sod that!  Look, there are times when you have to use some initiative in 
the field.  We could be here all night twiddling your dials and knobs and 
still be none the wiser about W.  I think it's about time we wheel out some 
good old-fashioned espionage.  You with me, Harris?"

"Lead on, I'll follow.  What do you have in mind?"

"Well, since Mr Kiss Kiss is doing a little meeting and greeting...it would be 
awfully rude not to turn up, don't you think?"

The one-eyed spy grinned at his blond companion.  He may not be struggling 
to restrain a bloodthirsty demon, but Xander Harris was equally eager to 
kick some warty ass.

"You can't be serious...Spike...William!"

"Buffy; trust me -- I know what I'm doing.  I've done this countless times 
before, and I've always come back.  You know I have.  I need you to be 
second unit, to back us up if things go wrong.  Don't look at me like that -- 
they won't, but a good agent always has a second string to his bow."

Buffy was fuming.  She was mostly annoyed because she knew he was right.  He 
was so sleeping on the couch when they got home.

"Fine.  But come back dust and I'll never forgive you."

Spike Blond smirked, head tilted as he looked at his wife's petulant face.  
He loved that face.  Placing a quick kiss on her nose, he stripped off the 
stealth suit to reveal a pristine black tuxedo.  Buffy's eyebrow raised in 
question.

"What?  Standard issue pet! Well -- it is on my missions.  How are you fixed, 
Harris?"

With a smug grin, his fellow spy unzipped his suit to reveal a cream tux and 
black dress pants, a scarlet rosebud nestling in the lapel.

"Bugger me!  It's Humphrey Bogart! You been raiding my wardrobe?"

"I can't help it if I scrub up better."  Xander began to sing softly, "You 
must remember this; a kiss is still a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh...  Anyway I 
get to be the one that says 'We'll always have Salzburg'.  So are we gonna 
yammer on all night or are we gonna motorvate?"

Whedon and Osborne exchanged glances.  This was their debut in the field, 
other than on a training mission, and it wasn't working out quite how they'd 
expected.  Blond had a reputation for being 'gung ho' and Harris wasn't far 
behind in the nutcase stakes.  Unconsciously they huddled closer together, 
eyes wide and fixed on the grinning faces of the master spies.  They both 
privately promised themselves that if they got out of this alive, they'd 
happily superglue their butts to their chairs and be deskbound for the rest 
of their careers.

With a final look back at Buffy, Spike Blond grabbed Harris' arm and dragged 
him off to the front of the mansion.  Buffy beat down the frightened wife 
and tapped into the Summerpenny who had fronted MI13's operations so 
efficiently.

"Osborne, Whedon -- calibrate your sensors to track their signatures.  Any 
change -- any at all -- you let me know."

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

W had stopped howling.  It had taken several burly men and a shot of 
sedative to restrain her, and she was now sitting in a perfumed bath being 
pampered by simpering handmaidens in a scene straight from of Liz Taylor's 
portrayal of Cleopatra.  Somewhere inside her pounding head a rational voice 
was baying to be heard.  But her drugged body lolled back against the padded 
bath-pillow and allowed the massage and the creamy lather, the gentle hands 
washing and conditioning her hair.  A half hour later she was sitting before 
a vanity mirror having a manicure, pedicure, facial, hairdo, the works -- 
everything an excited bride-to-be could ask for.  As the effects of the drug 
started to wear off, she focused on the conversation buzzing around her.

"Oh, Mistress -- just think, all of the Wursts are here, even those from 
other dimensions.  There hasn't been a gathering like this since...well, 
there's never been a gathering like this!  And the Master...he's so proud!  
And so excited - he's even had a bath himself!  The Master!!!  Can you 
believe it?"

W found herself nodding and smiling while inside she was screaming.  Dammit 
all, where the hell was Spike Blond?

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

"The trick, Harris, is to look like you belong even if you don't, yeah?"

"Pfft -- story of my life, buddy boy.  Look, Blond, you may be hot stuff but 
trust me -- when it comes to blending in where you stick out like a sore 
thumb? I'm the man!  Follow me, you might learn something."

"To the ends of the earth, Harris -- to the ends of the earth."

Harris adjusted his eye-patch and tugged the bell pull by the ornate wooden 
doors that marked the entrance.  The tiny demon in attendance later had 
great difficulty remembering the conversation he'd had with the two men, but 
he seemed to recall being picked up and soundly kissed by the one-eyed man 
with dark hair while the blond giggled.  Suddenly, he found himself alone in 
the foyer, minus two exclusive entrance keys, and with the distinct feeling 
that he'd missed something.  Of course, he'd claim he had no memory...

Blond and Harris entered the vast mirrored ballroom, ablaze with the light 
of several huge candle-decked chandeliers.  After a quick look about, they 
separated to mingle, hoping to elicit information about W's whereabouts.  It 
was your typical black-tie do -- lots of canapTs and sticky drinks with 
little in the way of interesting conversation -- but the appearance of the 
guests was anything but typical, in that they ranged from one hundred 
percent human to huh?  Blond gave up counting the number of sexual advances 
he'd batted off, and while part of him was gleefully adding them to his 
tally of conquests-I-coulda-had, the sensible besotted husband part of him 
was hoping that Buffy wouldn't zone in that intuitive vibe she had going and 
sense the attentions his increasingly tender butt was enduring.

Then Blond spied the groom himself...well, sniffed him really and followed the 
familiar stench to where Weisswurst was holding court.  Surrounded by 
guests, he was posturing and posing, gross and warty in his usual ghastly 
lederhosen.  Gagging, Spike wondered if they were the same ones he'd been 
wearing the last time they'd met -- certainly didn't look any cleaner.  A 
fleeting image of that oozing flesh invading W's pale and delicate body had 
him balling his fists and resisting the urge to tear off the demon's head 
there and then.  He focused on the conversation taking place between Mr Kiss 
Kiss Gang Bang and his band of disturbed followers.

"I tell you, zis iz going to be ze vedding of ze century.  Messerschmidt has 
composed a musical opus to honour ze charms of my betrothed.  Natnrlich I 
have chosen vell and she is absolutely cuckoo about me.  Who wouldn't be?"  
He cackled, spittle dribbling at the corner of his rubbery mouth and his 
chins wobbling.  "She vill join us here for your inspection.  
GötterdSmmerung - I am fizzing wiz anticipation!"  High-pitched giggles 
pierced Spike's eardrums as the loyal flock pandered to their Master's 
inflated ego.  All rational thought disappearing in a pissed-off growl, 
Spike pushed his way into the tightly packed throng and snagged a glass of 
champagne from a passing waiter.  Kiss Kiss had his back to him, still 
pontificating and bathing everyone in gobs of putrid saliva and flecks of 
pus.

"So, tell me -- old...thing, when do we get to meet the lucky lady?"  Spike's 
elegant tones owed much to his childhood and blended perfectly with his 
expensive tailoring.  The warty bridegroom wobbled round to face his guest 
with a slimy smile on his face.  The smile faltered as he recognised 00666.

"Herr Blond.  I did not expect to see you here."

"No doubt.  You didn't think I'd miss W's big day, did you?"

"Quite.  I believe zis party is by invitation only..."  The words died on his 
lips as Spike flashed the requisite invitation and smiled smugly.  "...no 
matter.  It iz good zat you are here now to reap ze results of your meddling 
in my affairs, vampire swine!  At ze time, I vas most displeased when you 
and your puny MI13 ruined my plans; but now I haf to zank you.  Wizout your 
interference, I would not be on ze brink of a glorious union wiz your 
precious W.  Mein fiancTe iz ze hottest momma in town!!"

"Is that right?  Fascinating.  So...where is she then?"  Spike sipped his 
champagne cocktail while never taking his eyes off his worthless -- yet 
admittedly tricky -- opponent.  "I haven't come alone, you know.  Do you 
expect me to walk into this hell hole without any resources?"

"No, Herr Blond.  I expect you to die!"  Weisswurst clicked his fingers and 
burly bodyguards moved towards them, their ill-fitting tuxedos giving away 
the bulk of their bodies and the barely concealed armaments.

Agent Harris swallowed the canapT he'd pilfered from a passing waiter and 
drained his glass.  He shook his head; did Blond have any understanding of 
the concept of 'undercover' work?  What the hell happened to the 'let's take 
it slow, suss things out' stuff?  Checking his dildo-gun and loosening it in 
its concealed holster, he unbuttoned his tux and waited for the inevitable 
smack down.  He was puzzled, however, by Spike's actions.  He was simply 
standing in front of Weisswurst, every inch the happy guest chatting with 
his genial host.  Harris took a few steps closer, straining to hear the 
conversation.  Blond was soon flanked on both sides by the bodyguards, a 
smile on his face and seemingly relaxed and happy as Harris edged closer 
still, his hand twitching over his weapon.

"My dear Weisswurst; surely you know I hate to do what's expected of me?" 
Spike Blond smiled a terrible smile, designed to strike fear into the hearts 
of his enemies, a rictus grin with just a flash of fang.  "Oh-oh," Harris 
gulped.  Weisswurst took a step back.

Time seemed to stop as the bubble of silence surrounding the demon lord and 
Blond expanded through the room, cutting off conversations as it spread like 
a pebble tossed into a pond.  Harris readied himself for action, fingers 
tensed round the phallic weapon, his teeth worrying his bottom lip.

'Gah!  Make a move already, Blond,' Harris willed his fellow spy.  He didn't 
do well with anticipation.

Just when it seemed the atmosphere would combust with the tense silence, a 
fanfare of trumpets heralded the arrival of the bride, borne aloft on a 
gilded litter carried by eight muscular youths wearing nothing but 
well-placed fig leaves and leering smiles.  Blond and Harris pushed forwards 
as the platform was set down, all finesse forgotten as they battled to reach 
their boss.  W was decked out in a skimpy bikini, apparently made of gold 
chain mail, and gold gauze harem pants, her flame-red hair piled high and 
sparkling with gold dust where the tendrils curled about her neck.  She 
reclined against a blood red day bed, her limbs arranged in perfect symmetry 
by her attendants, her left hand grasping a peacock feather fan and her 
right wrapped around an enormous glass of sparkling champagne.

The two agents looked on, stunned by W's seeming delight in her fate.  She 
wore a beaming smile on her heavily made-up face and looked for all the 
world like a woman without a care in the world, drunk with love.  The men 
glanced at each other, both puzzled by her lack of resistance.  Blond's 
perturbed features sharpened into his demonic visage as he spied the 
telltale needle marks that peppered the inside of W's pale arm.  She'd been 
drugged.

W's barely audible plea kick-started the '00' agents into assassin mode.

"Help...me..."

With a feral growl, Spike Blond launched himself -- sharp fangs glinting in 
the candlelight -- straight for Weisswurst's neck as Harris whipped out his 
spermopositer and squeezed it to activate its deathly ray.


CUT TO :  A party room, balloons and streamers spattered with blood.  
Glasses and bottles roll around on the floor, clinking as Spike and Buffy 
Blond wander hand in hand through the debris of a hard-fought fight.  A 
whoop of delight.

"This one's got some in it!"  Buffy triumphantly holds up a half-full bottle 
of champagne.  Sounds of zippers, shoes being toed off, much heavy petting.  
The thud of two bodies hitting the floor while entwined intimately.  The 
fizz of champagne as it is poured...

"Quit wriggling!  You're spilling it!"

Very unmanly giggling.  "Buffy!  I can't help it...your tongue tickles..."

DOO . DOO . DOOOOOOOOOOOOO; DOO . DOO . DOOOOOOOOOOOOOO; DOO . TE . DOOO



TBC...and the next chapter's the last in this adventure for Spike Blond...D

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