You Only Unlive Twice

by Spikesdeb

Three months had passed since Buffy Summerpenny and Spike Blond had spent two idyllic weeks on a private Caribbean island.  Sunnydale’s vampire population had been all but eradicated by the holy water sprinklers in the Bronze.  One or two stragglers had missed the fealty ceremony, but even they had been picked off by the regular patrols.  A few out of town vampires had heard of the slaughter and headed into the Hellmouth, determined to take over the throne vacated by Auric, and small pockets of the undead were beginning to re-emerge – resilient as ever.  

W wasn’t overly concerned.  A few vampires here and there helped keep agents on their toes with opportunities to test their field skills.  It was only when the trickle became a deluge that she would mobilise a full assault. 

Meanwhile, she had another situation.  And she needed her best agent. 

*********************************** 

It was nightfall outside the penthouse apartment of Agent 00666; tonight would be business.  He’d already had the pleasure.  Sitting on the side of the bed, he smoothed the rumpled covers and grabbed his watch and keys from the bedside cabinet.  The covers were only smooth up to where they tangled about a tanned form, which now turned over to gaze at him drowsily.  

“Mmmm, what time is it?” the sleepy voice asked him. 

“Time for me to go to work, kitten.  I’ll be back later – it’s just a briefing.  W was on while you were in the bathroom earlier.” 

“Why didn’t you say, I’ll get dressed…..…” 

William the Bloody aka Spike Blond tilted his head and grinned at her, “Now let’s not be hasty.”  He licked his lips, catching the fuller lower one between perfect teeth. 

“Best get some rest while you can; I’ll be back before you know it.” 

He leaned towards her to stroke her hair away from her face and kissed her, lingering on her lips just enough to make her pulse start to race.  His senses tuned in to her delicious arousal. ‘Oh… just once more.’  God, if he didn’t go now, he never would.    Regretfully, he forced himself to draw back from her embrace and taking her hand, kissed the palm. 

Buffy watched as he raised himself from the bed, lean and lithe.  Every movement he made connected with her groin and made her wetter – ‘Hands… wrist… putting on of watch…’ even simple things which couldn’t possibly be considered arousing were just so mmmmm.  

As he reached the door, he tossed the keys into the air and catching them again in his left hand he spun round to fix her with his ice blue passion-filled eyes. 

“And Buffy…………..when I do get back, you’d better be exactly where you are now.”  

************************************ 

Striding through the Magic Box, the spy negotiated all the identity scans with economical grace.  Gaining access to the inner sanctum, he whistled a tune that had been going round and round in his head.  Something about “resting in peace… slave...” He couldn’t remember the words exactly but the melody had a grip on him. 

Reaching W’s office, he rapped lightly on the door then threw it open to make his grand entrance.  W had her back to him, her left hand resting lightly on the desk, her right hand held aloft with her customary cheroot dangling between her fingers.  William walked into the room to hear her talking softly.  He assumed she had the telephone on speaker so swung around the desk to take his seat.  He was startled to see that W was talking to a dark-haired young woman who was slumped in one of the overstuffed leather seats in front of W’s desk. 

“Ah, 00666 – glad you could make it.  Didn’t tear you away from anything did we?” 

“Nothing that won’t keep, W.”  He grinned at her and raised his eyebrow. 

Willow wasn’t swayed by his charm.  “Good.  Now William – this new situation is extremely tricky.  I’ll let Miss Layer go over our current information.” 

The brunette was young but looked as if she knew her way around the block.  She had large brown eyes and full lips which she moistened with the tip of her pink tongue.  The dark hair was long, past the shoulders, with a slight kink……..and that description said it all.   William would bet that ‘kink’ was her by-line. 

As she uncurled herself from the chair and gripped his hand in a firm handshake, she fixed his eyes with her own for longer than was strictly polite and drawled at him, “The name’s Faith and you’d be the famous Blond I’ve heard so much about.  Pleased to make your acquaintance… in the flesh.” 

Her hand still grasped his and she resisted his pull as he tried to free it.  After a few seconds she allowed him to retrieve his limb and resumed her seat, sweeping her appraising gaze across his body from top to toe as she did so. 

Three months ago, William would have snapped up the offer that was so obviously being flaunted under his nose.  She was a beauty, no doubt about it; all blatant sexuality and danger and quite clearly interested in him, whether by his reputation or otherwise.  But this wasn’t three months ago; this was now, and he couldn’t help compare her to the petite blond occupying his thoughts and his bed. 

As Faith Layer outlined the mission, William cringed.  Buffy was not going to like this one little bit………. 

************************* 

The female spy watched the interplay between W and Blond with interest.  Hmm, he was certainly one hot piece of ass – although not in a body temperature way of course.  She’d volunteered for this mission just so she could meet him.  He thought he was the “Big Bad” – well, she was badder.  And she was going to ride him until he popped like warm champagne and then toss him empty into the gutter…………. 

W addressed her again, rousing Faith from her musings.  “So, Agent 69  – you can get into this commune, yes?” 

“Yeah, the getting in is easy.  As you know, I usually take care of the research end of things.  I’m quite new at the fieldwork, trying to trade up to my “00” accreditation.  Anyway, I know a few people from swapping info over the ‘net.  They owe me favours.  I’ve got all the access codes, the locations.  I just need a fake husband to go with the fake name and the fake life.  Couples only, W, that’s the rule.  That’s why I need to borrow your man here – no offence.” 

“None taken.”  William fixed the woman with a calculating stare.  She was good, no question, but kind of grabby.  Cool, calm; no extreme emotions on show at all.  Her heart rate hadn’t jumped once since she’d been in the room.  She had control, which was plain to see.  He just hoped she was as businesslike as she made out and didn’t turn into Octopussy once she got him alone. 

“Tell me more, Faith, I’m still not clear on the set-up.  London said you’d been given the contact by a double-agent from S.T.A.K.E.?” 

The brunette nodded.  Continuing, W asked, “And you’re sure the information comes from a reliable source?” 

Faith Layer’s countenance was composed.  Inside, she was giggling maniacally; of course the information was reliable – she wouldn’t lie to herself, now would she? This was going to be sooo easy. 

****************************** 

Buffy remained in bed, stretching and luxuriating in the satin sheets.  William’s scent was all around her, on the covers, on her skin.  She could see the ads now -- ‘Eau de William, the aphrodisiac fragrance.’  Again she felt the flood of moisture pooling between her legs!  Good god – was it even possible for her body to produce that much liquid without causing a serious imbalance?  ‘Wonder if I need those…what do you call ‘em?  Electrolytes?’  

Since that magical night in the Bronze three months ago her senses had been in a state of constant stimulation, her nerve endings raw with need and her skin on fire.  Sure, she’d had boyfriends before but nothing to compare to this.  He’d been away on two missions and risked W’s wrath each time by using the coded communications channel to speak to Buffy.  Just a few words, an avowal of love and a promise of sexual acrobatics in the near future; enough to make her come as she listened to his velvet tones.  But the fact that he was risking his un-life each time added a thrill of pleasure tinged with a shock of impending loss.  The entire time they were out of touch, she felt hollow and alone and absolutely terrified that he wouldn’t be coming back.  He was a double-0 agent; expendable as the mission dictated………but not to her. 

Lying back on the indent he had left in the pillow, she thought back to their time on the Caribbean island.  Blushing, she brought her hands up to cup her breasts, closing her eyes and remembering the first time they made love after leaving the Magic Box, not even waiting until the ‘plane had taken off.  Then the Mile High Club – check; fucking in public – check; sucking him off under the table in a fancy restaurant – check; mutual fellatio on the veranda and getting caught by the maid – check; humid nights on the beach - check! 

Letting her hands drift across her body, Buffy gasped as she tweaked her nipples into twin peaks of aching need, arching her back and lifting her hips to meet the imaginary William who was resting between her legs.  Her open mouth let out a moan of pleasure as her closed eyes saw the face of her lover as he kissed her lips with bruising intensity, darting his cool tongue in between her teeth and nipping at her lower lip to drag it into his moist mouth.  

“Mmmmm.” 

Buffy kneaded her breasts together, crushing them in an almost painful grip before undulating her body and moving her left hand to sweep along her neck, the fingers tracing fire as she imagined cooler digits taking that path.  Continuing upwards to caress her features, she darted out her tongue to capture her middle finger and snatch it into the warm wetness of her mouth, circling it and nibbling at its tip whilst imagining that she was looking up into azure blue eyes that burned with desire. 

Moaning again, she slid her right hand down her toned abdomen and rippled among her neatly-trimmed curls, skimming her aching mound and coming to rest on her right thigh.  Building the anticipation, Buffy lightly tickled her skin bucking upwards to seek friction and release whilst at the same time denying herself that completion.  Goose bumps broke out all over her body despite the heat of the evening, and the bead of sweat that had gathered in the dip of her throat ran down the middle of her breasts causing her to gasp at the sensation. 

All she could see behind her closed eyelids was William, her lover, his pale skin gleaming in moonlight and his cool touch sending shivers along her spine.  Sometimes he was William…….. soft, gentle, poetic.  And sometimes he was Spike….raw, primal, bruising.  And she loved them both. 

Not able to hold out any longer, Buffy returned her left hand to her nipple and rolled the nub between her fingers to an exquisite point of pain and pleasure.  Her head was thrown back into the pillow and she gasped aloud, keening her pleasure to the night air.  Finally her right hand crept up into her moist curls and her breath caught in her throat as fingers glided over her swollen clit before her two digits thrust inside, bucking upwards to sink them as far into her pussy as she could.  Her hips moved in a frenetic rhythm, seeking the flood of pleasure that would relieve her craving.  Finally, as she reached her crescendo she brought her other hand down to pinch her clitoris and caress it, flooding her hand with sticky juices, and adding a third finger to her pulsing pussy she screamed Spike’s name as she sank into the abyss of pleasure. 

Spike stood in the doorway and watched her, rubbing his engorged cock through the now ill-fitting trousers of his Saville Row suit, delighting in the erotic picture in front of him.  She panted and drew in ragged breaths of air, oblivious to his yellow eyes watching her pleasure herself with his name on her lips. She was incredible.  ‘Right, the hard fucking demon it is then.’

Chapter 2

Panting for air as her sweat-soaked body quivered with aftershocks, Buffy was not immediately aware that William was standing in the doorway on the edge of her peripheral vision.  She gasped when she saw him, her fantasy vanishing.  He was really there, devouring her with intense golden eyes, one hand roughly stroking his all too obvious erection whilst the other discarded his suit jacket. 

Those demonic eyes had her riveted, almost hypnotic in their intensity.  Without further thought and never taking her eyes from his, Buffy stretched then ran her hands through her hair so it lay on the pillow like a golden cloud.  She then skimmed fingertips down over her face slowly, oh so slowly.  On reaching her mouth, she snaked out her tongue to capture a finger on her right hand, her left continuing downwards to cup her breast and caress her rapidly erect nipple.  She sucked the finger further into her mouth, moaning around it and flicking her tongue out so that he could see the moist, pink tip as she licked at her flesh.  Gazes still locked, Buffy slowly slid the digit in and out of her lips while her hips undulated rhythmically in time with the sucks.  She pushed the covers out of the way with a foot and a hint of challenge appeared in her eyes.   

He couldn’t hold back the demon any longer.  Spike vamped.  His forehead ridged and his teeth elongated into fangs as he stared, mesmerised, at his woman sprawling wantonly across his bed.  The jacket was a forgotten heap on the floor; his rock hard cock in danger of bursting through the straining flies of his trousers.   

“Hard day?” she cooed. 

“Getting to be,” he growled, grabbing at his tie to loosen it.   

He was desperate to be on her, in her, fucking and feeding. But as he slid the silky knot down, he became aware of Buffy’s hungry gaze.  Summoning control, he slowed…tug, tug, tug…. making its removal a sensual tease.  Buffy squeaked as the knot slipped off the end, so he yanked the length of silk from under the shirt collar and through his hands.  She shivered, the scent of her arousal flooding his nostrils. 

Inhaling deeply to savour her musk, he dropped the tie carelessly to the floor and slowly opened the top button of his shirt, taking a step towards the bed…then the next, and another step…another button…. step….  As he reached the divan, he grasped the shirt and ripped it open, scattering the remaining buttons across Buffy’s naked form to ping off and roll to the floor.   

Hypersensitive skin felt sharp taps when the buttons struck her flesh and she arched her back instinctively to find some release for the pressure building inside her. She was beyond aroused.  Her eyelids fluttered as she cupped both breasts together, rubbing and teasing her nipples between forefingers and thumbs.  Spike could see the sheen of sweat covering her golden body and longed to lap at it with his rough vampire tongue. 

Buffy’s eyes snapped open and she turned her head when she heard the jangle of his belt-buckle.  She was no more than two inches from his stiff cock as it strained against his trousers, straining the cloth as he undid the belt then flipped the button.  Oh, and she could smell him, his unique aroma that had almost made her swoon that night in the Bronze.  God, she wanted to taste him so badly, take his cock into her mouth and suck it so far in that she gagged.  Thoughts of him spending spurts of cool semen into her hot mouth caused another flood of moisture from her pussy and she moved her hands to tangle between her thighs, scrabbling to get some relief. 

Hypnotised, she watched the zipper as it slowly rolled down on its own, the monster wanting out of the cage.  She licked suddenly dry lips as Spike grasped the thick shaft and languorously stroked himself, up ….and down; up… and down; up….and down.  A pearly drop of come oozed from the slit and Buffy watched it roll down his length and over his fist to disappear into the dark curls at the base.  Suddenly realising she wasn’t breathing, she dragged in air and panted, her hazel eyes dark with lust and fixed on the hand of her demon as he speeded up his strokes.  Unconsciously, she was thrusting her own fingers deep inside herself to the same rhythm, rubbing her clit with a thumb and clenching her thighs together to increase the sensations. 

Spike stilled his hand.  His cock bobbed invitingly in front of her face as he threw off the ruined shirt.  With a shimmy of his hips, the trousers pooled around his feet.  Suddenly, Buffy lunged at him, her hands, sticky with her juices, grabbing his buttocks and digging in her nails, her moist mouth enveloping his considerable length almost entirely.  As she continued to glide further down his shaft, she opened her throat and he almost came there and then when she growled around him, her tongue caressing his stiffness. 

He let out a strangled “Buffy!” and tried to buck away; it only made her dig her nails in even more.  She knew what she wanted.  Looking up at him as she knelt on the bed, her hair cascading over one shoulder and her cheeks puffed out to accommodate his girth, she slowly released him from her mouth, swirling her tongue along the sensitive tip and nipping him gently.  Spike closed his eyes and threw back his head as he tried to keep control; he was losing the battle.   

Buffy closed her mouth over his cock again, pumping it in and out of her heat at an ever increasing pace, bringing one hand round to cup his balls and squeeze firmly.  And as she moaned his name around his length, he tensed and shot thick spurts of come into her greedy mouth, watching with fascination as she swallowed it down and licked him clean. 

Sitting back on her heels with a satisfied smile on her face, Buffy was taken by surprise when Spike pushed her backwards onto the bed and grabbed her heels to pull her towards him.  When he had her arranged with her pussy aligned with the edge of the mattress, he kicked off the trousers, which were suddenly impeding him, scrambling his shoes and socks off quickly with a combination of feet and hands.  At last, he knelt between her thighs, still in game face, and inhaled deeply of her scent.  Gripping her hips, he dipped his head and licked up the inside of each thigh, his rough tongue, raising goosebumps in its wake.  Buffy thrust her hips upwards, seeking his touch.    

William’s mastery of foreplay was a whole new language.  He would have played some more, worshipping her aching flesh.  Spike wanted to fuck her, ravenously, with his tongue, his cock, his fingers.  As he thrust his tongue deep inside her Buffy whimpered with pleasure.  Replacing it with two fingers, then three, he hand-fucked her as he moved his mouth up her body to close over one nipple, swirling his cool tongue around it until it puckered almost painfully.  Blowing across the wet nub, he watched Buffy throw her head back to dig into the mattress, her mouth a silent ‘o’ of pleasure.  Her gleaming neck filled his vision, the pulse pounding in his ears, her delicious blood pumping just below the surface.  As his hand stilled, his fingers buried deep within her, Buffy tipped her head up to look at him.  His eyes were glazed with need.  She knew what he wanted to do, what he needed to do.  And she desperately wanted him to do it too. 

Holding his yellow gaze with her own, she deliberately reached around to hold her hair away from her neck. 

“Now, Spike.  Bite me now” she whispered fiercely. 

The demon roared and then he was on her, his body pressed full length against her, one hand still playing with her clit, her pussy, the other fisted in her hair bending her head back as he sank his fangs into her neck taking long draughts of her rich blood.  Buffy could feel the tug of him suckling her neck and the cool blood that escaped to drip onto her breast. Her orgasm hit so hard she screamed as she convulsed around his fingers.  It was primeval, sound without form, and the demon loved it.  As she arched into his touch, she pulled him tight against her and instinctively bit down to mark him as hers.  As his blood gushed over her tongue, she swallowed down the rich fluid without thought, mewling against his neck.   

His demon was ecstatic!  Shuddering as he continued to drink from her sun-kissed flesh, Spike bucked against her and spurted semen along her mound, her belly. 

Withdrawing his fangs and tenderly licking the wound shut, Spike raised himself above her, resting on his elbows and stroking her hair.  He felt the ragged wound she had made below his right ear pulse with exquisite pain.  The demon receded, satiated, and the chiselled features of William slid back into place. 

Bending to softly kiss her lips, stained with his own blood, he licked her clean and whispered “Thank you”. 

Buffy smiled, reaching up to cradle his face in her hand.  “Thank YOU, William.  That was… earth-moving.” 

Wrapping her in a bear hug, he knelt up taking her with him to sit facing him on the bed.  He would never be able to eclipse the feelings running through him at that moment.  He’d held off giving her the “A to Z of Vampire Rituals” talk, but tonight he felt ready.   

“The thing is, Buffy, I need to explain what this means.  You remember the Bronze, the first time we made love?  When I bit you as we… The biting and the sex at the same time, it’s something special.  It means something to a vamp.” 

She looked at him quizzically, her head tilted to one side in an unconscious imitation of her lover.   

“And then tonight, you fed from me.  Only a little, I know, but still enough for… You see, luv…in vampire terms, once we’ve climaxed and bled together…. we’re mated, one.  Married, if you like.” 

Buffy’s gasp of surprise quickly turned into a giggle of delight as she launched herself at him, knocking him over and covering his face in kisses. 

****************************** 

Two hours later, it was a wobbly Buffy that shakily got to her feet and shuffled to the bathroom.  Glancing back at the bed, she smiled at the sight of her vampire lover lying prone, tangled in silk sheets, the curve of his buttocks just visible as his legs dangled over the edge of the mattress, arms splayed in “splat” formation.  She giggled and scooted off to freshen up as he groaned and rolled over onto his back, his right arm coming up to cover his face. 

“Fuck Buffy!  What the hell have you done to my demonic stamina?  I shouldn’t be panting like an overheated spaniel after a mere three hours of lovemaking.  Buffy?” 

He sat up, resting back on his elbows and tilting his head to seek her out.  His face was split by a wide smile as she teetered back towards the bed and she pouted. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“You’re adorable kitten!  Your hair’s all mussed and you can’t walk in a straight line.  Come here.” 

William patted the bed to his side.  He hated to break the moment but he had to tell her about the mission.  Departure was at 0800, less than ten hours from now.  For the first time in his long career as a spy, he considered the merits of a desk job and found them appealing. 

She wasn’t going to make this easy, he realised as she curled up against him.  Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, her slender arm wrapped around his torso to lock him to her and her legs bent up to rest her knees across his thighs.  She smelled of sex and blood and warmth and he felt his cock twitch to life again.  Not helpful. 

“Sweetheart, I have an assignment.” 

He felt her stiffen beside him, her heart actually faltering then beating double before steadying to a slightly elevated rhythm.  He felt torn apart inside.  

She sat up to look at him, a tremulous smile fixed on her lips.   

“How long do we have?” 

What a woman!  No clinging, no begging.  He loved her with an intensity that stunned him.  Never in all of his life, and his un-life, had he ever felt such depth of emotions surging through his being.  She made him feel alive. 

He reached up to stroke her cheek gently, leaning his forehead against hers.   

“Until morning” he whispered. 

Buffy’s eyes clouded with pain, but she quickly recovered herself.   

“Then we’ve got tonight.” 

She started to sink into his embrace, stroking her hand across his sculpted chest.  Closing his eyes, Spike gathered all his self-control and grabbed her wrist, stilling her downward progress. 

“That’s not all, luv.  The mission’s not your usual one.” 

Falteringly, he explained that they’d had information about an organisation apparently intent on breeding super-babies.  $1 million was being offered to any couple that passed the screening process.  Successful applicants gathered on a remote island in Thailand, secretly owned by S.T.A.K.E., to prepare for the accelerated development programme.  The true purpose was genetic resequencing and the couples were forced to breed batches of demon mutants until the female died, ravaged by the constant birthing and often grotesquely incompatible spawn that resulted.  The male was exterminated, his usefulness expired. 

Buffy cringed.  She knew what was coming next and she felt sick to her stomach. 

“I have to go undercover, Buffy, as part of a couple.  A female agent will assume the role of my wife.  Don’t know how long it’ll be.” 

Buffy’s eyes filled with tears, a single silver drop running down her face.  Two hours earlier, she’d been bursting with happiness and pride when he’d told her she was his mate.  Now another woman would be his wife. And it didn’t make any difference that it was all an act.  

William hated himself for causing her pain and silently vowed he would make it up to her on his return, would show her how much he loved her. 

Crushing her to him, he murmured soft words of love as he kissed her hair, stroking her back as she sobbed silently, her shoulders heaving.

Chapter 3

They spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing quiet talk and fitful dozes.  Each time Buffy woke she looked up to see William gazing at her, his blue eyes glittering in the moonlight.  Soft night breezes ruffled the sheer drapes.  Her eyelids drooped with exhaustion as she fought sleep to savour their remaining hours together. 

She snapped awake at the whirring sound of the automatic solar shutters lowering over the windows.  Her lips trembled with emotion as she realised that it was time.  William would go and be the hero and save the world from unspeakable demons.  Again.  Events at the Bronze had been life changing in more ways than one. She’d loved the gadgetry and the role-play; in a way she was itching to join in the fight.  Maybe she could go along on a mission.  She’d speak to W, see how the land lay.  Now she was involved with a double-0 agent; the desk-job was just plain dull. 

She hugged the empty pillow beside her, forcing down the wave of desolation it caused.  She’d have to get used to it again for a short while, unless he never… She gritted her teeth and banished that thought from her mind.  She would be strong for him. He would come back, he wouldn’t be hurt and she wouldn’t let him know that she thought otherwise.  He had to be able to concentrate on the mission, no distraction: his un-life could depend upon it. 

When William returned from the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips and his upper body still wet from the shower, Buffy gazed at him, mesmerised by the perfection of his form.  Swallowing hard to wet her suddenly dry mouth, she drank him in with her eyes. The tousled blond curls, the angles of his face and mouth, the gorgeously defined body - muscle wrapped in alabaster skin.  And his arms… good god, what arms, the slender lines belying hidden power.  Perfection.  She shivered at thoughts of the hours she’d spent in those arms, learning every inch of him, ghosting fingers across his torso, his biceps, and the lines of his cheekbones.  She could look at him forever.   

Moving her gaze further down she noticed with delight that the towel now appeared to be draping a flagpole.  She chuckled as she looked up to meet William’s tilted head and amused stare.   

“I’m just working on the mission inventory,” she giggled huskily. 

“Time for the equipment check then,” William drawled as he whipped the towel away to reveal his very impressive erection.   

Not trusting her voice, Buffy just nodded, as he prowled towards the bed to kneel at the end before stalking his way up her body on his hands and knees.  As he travelled upwards he blew cool air across her skin heightening her arousal even further.  The sweet scent of her skin, the taste of sweat and their mingled juices caused his cock to harden even more as he breathed in and lapped at her flesh.    

He swirled his tongue around her bellybutton, delighting in the way her abdomen clenched with the sensation, her breathy gasps making him smile.  His hands were gripping her hips to keep her in place, not allowing her to squirm away from him.  His mouth travelled up from her mound to between her breasts, flicking her chin at the end with his pointed tongue then dove to bite her neck with blunt teeth.  Buffy moaned beneath him and bucked her hips up to seek his shaft. 

He shimmied away from her, teasing her with his teeth and tongue, but never letting their groins connect.  He was going to leave his girl with something to remember him by, and he wanted to make it last a little longer.  The minute he let himself sink into her, he’d be lost.   

Allowing his hands to wander further up her body, he wrapped one arm around her back where her spine curved deliciously above her peach of a bottom, snagging her belly hard against him.  His shaft was trapped between them, poking into the flesh of their abdomens and pulsing.  Buffy moaned low in her throat and tried to move against him.  He stilled her, refusing to let her have satisfaction just yet.  It took all his self-control.  He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, picturing anything but her sun-kissed body.  Trying to think of the least arousing thing he could, his mind came up with his rival ‘00’ agent Xander Harris.  Ah, that did it – control regained.  

Bending his head again he lightly suckled at one nipple, his free hand caressing her other breast kneading and rubbing his thumb across her hardening flesh.  Continuing his attentions, Buffy’s nipples were like bullets and he amused himself by alternately suckling them then blowing across them to pucker the skin further.  All the while, Buffy panted and squirmed, the sweat breaking out on her brow, frantic for release.   

“Oh... please,” she whimpered and he was undone.  What Buffy wanted, Buffy got.  He removed his arm from behind her back and grasped both of her hands in his own, pinning them either side of her head, tangled in her glorious mane of golden hair.  Dipping his head to capture her lips, he nudged her legs open with his knees and drew back his hips to rest his cock at the entrance to her sex.  He held himself there as he raised his head once more to look into her eyes and held her gaze as he slowly slid home.  The look in her eyes humbled him; pure love, all wrapped up in lust and passion.  God, it had never felt like this with anyone else!  He willed her to see how much this meant to him, that she was his everything, his life.  She gasped his name, “William!” as he started to move inside her, long, slow strokes to prolong their pleasure as much as possible. 

Last night they had fucked; this morning they were making love.  And both the demon and the man were satisfied beyond measure.   

Buffy looked up into eyes so blue they almost burned her with their intensity.  He was looking deep inside her and she knew he was trying to reassure her.  He wouldn’t choose to go on this mission, would refuse if he could; but he was a tool to the Powers That Be to be used as appropriate.  Tools had no option but to be put to work.   

As he continued to thrust inside her, his pace quickening as his control slipped, he was talking to her, softly, words of love and devotion. 

“Mine, Buffy; you’ll always be mine; never want to leave you……..god, I love you so much, baby, I’ll always love you…….aargh, Buffy, so tight, baby….” 

The constant stream of words was working their magic on her and she felt her orgasm start to build.  Throwing her legs around his waist to lock him to her she bucked upwards to increase the pace and to rub her clit against his shaft as he started to pound into her.  The bed was moving away from the wall with the force of their coupling and she untangled her hands from his to bring her arms around him and dig her fingers into his butt.  

Her wail as her climax washed over her was swallowed by his mouth closing over hers, sucking her tongue in to rasp it with his teeth and tangle with his own.  He thrust into her once more, deep and hard, then moaned against her as release overwhelmed him, the pulsing of his cock as he came rippling through her body. 

Finally, they both came down to earth, thankful that the air conditioner had kicked in to cool their fevered flesh.  William was always amazed at the way his cool skin would heat whenever he was with her.  It was as if he borrowed life from her, or shared hers.  It was a miracle.  She was a miracle.  His.   

He had fallen forwards onto her as he came, and worried that he may be hurting her he pushed himself away off the mattress. 

“Don’t!” she cried, “not yet.” 

He steeled himself. “I can’t stay, Buffy.  Look at the time.  Got to get the mission rolling. Believe me, this is as hard for me… Now that I’ve found you, I never want to be away from you.  God, I’m going to miss you so much!” 

He crushed her to him, drawing in the scent of her hair to remember her by, the feel of her bare skin next to his.  It would have to keep him going until he could come home. 

Pressing a firm kiss to her forehead, he jumped up from the bed and returned to the bathroom to shower again, trying not to hear the sound of muffled sobs. 

*************************** 

By the time he returned to the room, Buffy was out of the bed and wrapped in his robe.  Her hair was tied back from her face in a ponytail and she was stripping the bed and piling the linen in a heap. 

She looked up as she heard him enter from the bathroom and smiled.   

“We kinda messed the bedding again.” 

He chuckled.  “That we did, pet.  Looks like the Laundromat once again will benefit from our relationship.” 

Buffy smiled.  Then she really looked at him - still wet, still wrapped in a towel and still gorgeous. 

Noticing her sharply indrawn breath, he backed away from her and swiftly put the bed between them.  He had about 15 minutes to reach HQ and if they started up again …………… 

Buffy shook herself out of her reverie and walked to him, determined not to weaken. 

 “One more kiss before you go.”  They clung to each other fiercely and Buffy looked up at him.  “I love you, William, always. Be safe and hurry back to me.” 

She turned and walked towards the bathroom. 

“I’ll just take a quick shower….” 

Her words tailed off as the bathroom door closed.  Breathing out unnecessarily at the lucky……….or not so lucky……escape, William continued to dry himself and dressed quickly before Buffy could return.  If he didn’t know better, he’d say her pheromones were loaded with some kind of addictive narcotic.  One bite of Buffy and you always wanted more; kind of like a cookie…….. 

It was half an hour before she came out.

Chapter 4

Spike jumped when the bathroom door opened and he was suddenly faced with wet Buffy body enveloped in a white fluffy towel.  ‘That’s all I need!’ he groaned to himself as he tried to drag his eyes from the delicious buttocks revealed by the low dipping towel as she padded across to the dresser.  Feeling the old sap rising again, against all rules of man and nature, he covered his eyes with both hands, desperate to block out temptation.  Bugger!  He had to get out of here before W sent the Snatch Squad to take him in. 

Buffy looked over her shoulder as she heard him draw in a sharp breath.   Damn.  He was on to her and wasn’t watching.  Still, she felt a warm glow as she realised that if it weren’t for the mission, he’d have had her upside down and halfway to happy land.  Resigned to the fact that he had to leave and not wanting to make it any harder for him, she quickly dressed in casual slacks and a silky shirt and swept her long hair up into a messy topknot.  Slipping on a pair of mules, she grabbed her purse and headed towards him.   

“Hey, Agent 00666 – duty calls.”  He was still tightly covering his eyes with his hands so she gently moved them and planted a soft kiss on his lips.   

William blinked and pressed his lips against hers more forcefully before cupping her face in his hands and drawing back, mapping her features inch by inch to stash away in his memory. 

Sighing heavily, he placed a last kiss on her forehead and said “Okay, luv.  Take me to your leader.” 

Chuckling, Buffy grabbed his hand and led him out of the room and the apartment block to the underground garage. 

***************************** 

All business-like now, Buffy entered HQ through the Magic Box entrance.  William had driven his Aston Martin around back and to the basement parking area.  Stashing her purse behind the counter, Buffy called up the Mission Allocation Team itinerary from the central database.  Skimming the timings with a critical eye, she shrugged.  Okay, they’d done a good job in her absence; she could simply approve it.  She had been hoping to find fault and thereby delay any departure, but she was kidding herself. And anyway, what had she been thinking?  She was a professional, part of a professional outfit, and she would never allow emotion to affect her performance.  

Grabbing the printout, she swept up the false ID papers and passport and went through to meet William in W’s office. 

W was winding up her briefing as Buffy entered the room, the redhead going through the latest report from London HQ regarding the evil mastermind behind the baby demon plot.  William was briskly efficient; his icy demeanour professional and serious as he took the proffered travel documents from Buffy’s outstretched hand with a murmured “Thank you, Summerpenny.”  Despite her resolve, his distance and detachment from her, necessary as it was, reminded her of how it used to be between them… before the Bronze.  As they left the room, W and William in front, Buffy trailed behind in an attempt to settle her emotions.  She watched his broad shoulders and his angular profile as he continued receiving instructions from the lady in charge.  A jolt of electricity fizzled between them as he looked over his shoulder and winked. 

G had already assembled the special kit the spy would need and stashed it aboard the company ‘plane that would ferry William and Faith Layer to the deadly island paradise.  W, William and Buffy climbed aboard the dark-windowed limousine that was to take them to the airfield, William sat across from W with Buffy to his right.  As soon as they were moving, W opened the drinks cabinet and poured a couple of stiff scotches for her and William.  Buffy declined, citing the early morning.   

All too soon, they were there, the jet fuelled and on the runway just outside the hangar in which the limousine parked.  W slid out of her seat and out of the car leaving Buffy and William inside.  Buffy watched her through the open door as she made her way across the concrete floor towards a dark-haired woman who could only be Faith Layer.  Buffy hated her on sight, and drew in a calming breath before turning to William and whispering “Good luck.” 

William closed his eyes.  Where had the mission buzz gone?  He usually relished the moment of departure, but now… God, he did not want to do this!  Steeling himself and gritting his teeth, he readied himself to go.  Turning to Buffy, his eyes clouded with pain, he gently stroked her cheek smiling as she leaned into his caress.   

“I don’t need luck, Buffy, I just need to know that you’re waiting for me.  Take care, kitten. I’ll be back before you know it.” 

And with a lingering aroma of expensive cologne, he was gone. 

******************************* 

Boarding the ‘plane under cover of the canopied walkway that had been set up to shield him from the early morning sun, Spike Blond slipped into mission mode.  William was submerged, wrapped in memories of a warm, golden body and hazel-green eyes locked with his own.  The spy was in the driving seat now. 

W was ahead of him, updating Faith Layer with the same information he had been privy to earlier.  He caught the tail end of the conversation as he sought his seat. 

“…..and obviously we’ll be monitoring carefully, Faith.  But you really couldn’t wish for a better partner to introduce you to fieldwork.  He’s extremely capable.” 

“I’ll bet!” Faith drawled, leaning around W to flick her deep brown eyes along the suddenly tense body of the vampire. 

W looked behind her and noticed the stricken attitude of her best agent.  Maybe he’d met his match.  She was unsure about the relationship her right-hand woman had with this creature.  His reputation was that of a lady-killer, sometimes literally, but he was an excellent spy.  He was also rather humanitarian by nature, despite appearances to the contrary.  And W had it on good authority from his sister Tara, with whom she’d been spending an increasing amount of time, that her brother William was kind to babies, puppies and kittens.  Visions of 00666 donning fireman garb - bare-chested of course, complete with braces, natty helmet and handy chopper – and reaching up to rescue a fluffy Persian from a tree, flooded her mind.  So much for early morning pick-me-ups.  Blinking furiously, W turned to face Blond and breathlessly launched into a speech about queen, country and honour. 

Blond wasn’t fooled.  W’s blood was pooling in her cheeks in a becoming blush; he hadn’t lost his touch.  He smirked his trademark smirk and for full measure tilted his head to the most effective degree and lifted his left eyebrow.     

Finding herself lost for words, W gathered up her remaining documents and wished the new Mr and Mrs Lucrada bon voyage! 

********************************* 

Buffy didn’t look up as W slid into the rear of the limousine.  She pretended to be fascinated by the mission parameters but as the file was both upside down and smudged with her tears, it wasn’t a very convincing ploy.   

The limousine pulled away smoothly, leaving the hangar and running alongside the coasting jet for a short time before bearing left and out of the airfield.  Buffy looked up and out of the rear window as the ‘plane took off, watching until the dot of it disappeared into the distance.  W was observing her silently, swishing the remaining scotch around the bottom of the glass before swallowing it down and reaching for a cheroot. 

Buffy looked up finally and donning her best efficient face, closed the file on her knee and faced W.  Going for an attitude of complete indifference, she calmly asked W what arrangements had been made for emergency retrieval as they hadn’t been filed on the computer when she checked earlier. 

“There’s no contingency plan, Summerpenny.  Blond’s on his own now, there’s no other way in.  If he fails, well, we call another ‘00’.  You know how it is with that status, you’ve read the briefings – one alone in all the world is chosen, blah, blah, blah.” 

W stared at Buffy as she delivered the deathblow, impassive to the terror and dread lurking beneath the PA’s calm mask.  Yes indeed, Buffy certainly did know how it was.  It was killing her. 

*********************************** 

‘Jeez, what’s up with Joe Cool?’  Faith could feel the waves of unease radiating off the vampire.  She twitched her lips into a feral snarl; she had a cure for all kinds of …tension. 

Clocking him out of the corner of her half-closed eyes, the brunette arched back into the seat and stretched her arms above her head to display her breasts to their best advantage.  The Celtic tattoo she bore on her right arm matched the clothing she was wearing at present.  She’d been issued with an entire “good wife” wardrobe but was putting off donning any of that shit until there was no other choice.  So what she had on was her own.  Trailer trash at its trashiest.  The leather trousers clung to her like a second skin and there was no panty line because, hey, no panties.  She wore a tank top with string straps, black of course, overlaid with a mesh shirt.  Peeping out from beneath the tank top was a black lace bra quite obviously designed to titillate, rather than to support its contents.  To add to the finished whore effect, the left strap of her bra had crept from beneath her top and rested like a slug across her bicep.  Classy.  Not. 

Spike had noticed the display of course.  The contrast with his golden goddess couldn’t have been more obvious.  Night and day – Buffy was the morning dew, soft and sweet; Faith was the darkest storm, dangerous and raw.  The demon in him saw a kindred spirit; the man was repulsed.  Both of them ignored her as she continued to use all the weapons in her arsenal to seduce him.  The demon wasn’t exactly happy to be reined in. 

As the flight went on, Spike realised he was going to have to rehearse the undercover role with Layer so that their stories meshed.  He’d been lying prone in the plush reclining seat across the aisle from the brunette, scanning the documentation in the field pack.  There was a large-scale layout of the island, the key indicating what was known about the buildings comprising the complex.  There was an enormous octagonal single storey structure labelled ‘Lab/Secret Hideout’.  Blond chuckled – G was so anally retentive; must be a Virgo!  Only G would actually label a map with ‘Secret Hideout’.  Shaking his head, Blond perused the plan further.  Set away from the main complex were a number of small hut-like erections; no doubt that was where the actual ‘erecting’ took place.  Looking further through the pack he found a detailed description of the interiors of the huts.  As he read on he groaned to himself. 

This was already a difficult mission for him and it was just getting worse.  The description of the rooms in the love-shacks used words such as “bordello-like”, “boudoir”, “decked out with all manner of instruments designed to enhance sexual arousal and increase pleasure.”  He was going to hell!  He glanced across to the sloe-eyed wannabe spy to his right.  She was dipping through the info too.  She was probably on the same page: yep, definitely.  The lascivious grin snaking across her lips and her moist, pink tongue gave it away.    Here we go – Faith the would-be vampire Layer at full throttle. 

He tensed as she shifted in her seat and turned to face him.  He couldn’t look away as she leant forwards, eyes locked on his, her cleavage so pronounced you could hide a gun in there.  As she tossed her dark hair over one shoulder in a move calculated to arouse him, thankfully she dipped her eyelids and gave him the opportunity to scurry away.   

“Big Bad huh?” she whispered to herself, lips curving slightly as she settled down to review the mission plan further.   

********************************** 

Spike was holed up in the well-appointed bathroom to the rear of the jet.  No ordinary ‘plane this, obviously.  Equipped with all the latest radar, sonar and stealth technology it also boasted a natty line in vampire sensitive reflective surfaces.  G had been busy!  Studying his image in the mirror, he critically assessed his appearance – he wasn’t half-bad, he decided.  Resting his forehead against the mirror as he recalled what had made him run like a girl to the haven of the restroom, he began to slowly head butt the shiny surface. 

*********************************** 

Faith studiously ignored him as he returned.  Instead of taking his own seat he proceeded to the lounge area where there was a circular table surrounded by six deep-filled swivel chairs.  He spread the mission file across the surface and split it into personal information, mission objectives, gadget specifications and photographs.  When he had them arranged to his liking he cleared his throat and steeling his resolve said,” Miss Layer, could I have the pleasure of your company?” 

Shimmying around the corner, having removed the mesh top and renewed her lipstick, the seductress slid into the seat opposite him and leaned her head on her hands, her elbows resting on the table.   

“Always a pleasure, Blond,” she drawled, “Let’s get cracking.  Isn’t that what you English guys say?” 

Spike gritted his teeth.  This was going to be a long flight.

Chapter 5

Buffy watched the dot of the aircraft slowly arcing across world map on the large screen display, tracked as it was by HQ.  All senior staff gathered in the briefing room to await its arrival at Hornshaft Atoll.  It was crucial that Spike and Faith clear the first hurdle when they reached their destination.  Faith Layer had the requisite pulse, circulation and body temperature; Spike Blond, of course, did not.   

What he did have, however, courtesy of G and his band of super-scientists, was enough technology to fool most scanners and certainly sufficient to pass cursory inspections.  Spike sported an implant next to his non-beating heart that thumped out a steady rhythm, mimicking the pulse of a healthy young man.  Should he be scanned to any depth, a second implant would kick in to induce artificial circulation by stimulating his heart muscles to pump the blood around his body.  Before leaving for the airfield, he’d been coated head to foot in a micro layer of exothermic material that would register as normal body temperature; the breathing, he would take care of himself.  Unlike most vampires, he already breathed almost constantly in an unconscious imitation of his living self.  But then he was nothing like most vampires.  He also had a liking for proper food, spicy and sweet being particular favourites, as Buffy had found out during their initial days together.  Serve him up a blooming onion followed by hot chocolate and marshmallows and he was putty in her hands.  ‘Not that I need food for that,’ she thought fondly.  

Buffy had read through the medical notes many, many times.  It made her feel closer to him somehow.  Panic began to rise in her again as the jet continued its journey.  Every minute that ticked by took him further away from her, and the bite-mark on her neck ached more as the distance increased.  Buffy absentmindedly kept rubbing at the mark drawing W’s attention to her reddened flesh. 

“Summerpenny?  Is there a problem?” 

“What?  Where?”  Buffy flicked her eyes to the screen display, pulse racing and sweat breaking out on her brow.  Seeing nothing wrong, she turned to look back at W. 

W gestured with her right hand, cheroot dangling languidly, causing Buffy to blush and hang her head.  But then she recovered herself.  What was she ashamed of – it was her wedding band to all intents and purposes and she wasn’t going to hide it. 

Bringing her head up to meet and hold W’s gaze with her own suddenly stormy hazel eyes she simply said, “I can feel him.  We’re mated.  He’s going further and further from me and it aches.” 

“Interesting.” W stated.  “Can you tell where he is, what he’s doing?”  Ever the efficient mission master, W wanted to know if it could be used to their advantage. 

“I can’t tell exactly; I just know that the greater the distance is, the more it tingles.  I can sense his general mood but not specifics.  Right now, I sense that he’s agitated, tense.  But I can’t tell why.”   

‘I can guess though.  Slut.’ Buffy thought. 

“Hmmm.  I’ll bear that information in mind, Summerpenny.”   

Returning her attention to the screen, W filed the snippet away for future consideration.   

Things with William’s sister were moving along nicely.  There’d been a kissing incident which took them both by surprise and since then the shy vampire had been making puppy eyes at her.  Perhaps she could suggest a nibble or two to notch things up a level……. 

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

Spike Blond was on his last reserves of patience.  He was able to ignore the increasingly overt invitations coming his way from the dark-haired temptress but his inner battle to keep his demon tethered was another matter.  She was everything his dark side craved; aggressive, amoral, reckless, and sexually wanton.  He closed his eyes to regain control of the devil inside him.   

“Ok, Layer.  Once more, from the top.  What’s my name?” 

“William Lucrada.  Born 20 August 1971 in Chelsea, England.  Mother and father deceased – car crash when you were 19.  You inherited their estate and that gave you enough money to put yourself through university where you took English, History and the Classics.  And could I be more bored?” 

“We need to get this right!  Listen, Faith.  I’ve been doing the spy thing since before you were born.  If you want to be a ‘00’ – then you need to survive your first mission.  Unfortunately for you, there’s more to it than flashing your cleavage.  So you can cut the nympho attitude, okay?  Get the basics right and the rest will follow.  Preparation is the key.” 

“Man! You sound like my boss back in Research.  Wet Wimpo Wesley Wyndham-Price.  ‘Make sure you lay the groundwork, Faith.  Ensure that every ‘i’ is dotted and every ‘t’ is crossed, Faith.  Three words to remember for a successful outcome, Faith – preparation, preparation, preparation. Bla bla bla’  Loser!” 

Spike gritted his teeth.  “I happen to know Wesley and he is not a wimp.  He’s clocked more field time than many double-0s and what he doesn’t know about research could be written on the back of a postage stamp.  You’d do well to follow his advice.” 

“Continue,” he growled at her. 

Rolling her eyes and swinging her feet up to rest on the table, she grabbed her notes and carried on. 

“We met when you came into the library where I work to research background material for your latest novel.” 

“When did we meet, Faith.  Specifics, remember.” 

Shaking her head she continued with the fake past.  “May 14, 1994.  You asked me out two weeks later, having come into the library every day to check me out.  Sorry, to check books out.”  She grinned at him from beneath hooded eyes and licked her lips. 

“Just couldn’t resist me could you?” she drawled huskily as she slid her boots off the table and leant forwards, her breasts resting on the surface as she lifted her ass from the seat to curl her legs up beneath her. 

She laughed out loud as his stony glare rested on her, his ice-blue eyes glinting with fury. 

“Guess the magic’s gone now, honey – how on earth are we going to recapture those heady days?” 

So saying, she ran her hand down her neck to brush lightly over the peak of one nipple, darting her pointed tongue out to sweep her lips as she did so.  One way or another, she was having his undead booty before she threw him to the wolves.  If he continued to spurn her advances, well – there were other ways. 

Spike laid his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes.  Sighing heavily, he looked up and narrowly stopped himself from slapping the smug grin from the face of the woman he was rapidly coming to regard as the biggest pain in the arse he’d ever met.  And what genius had assigned her to this mission? 

Raising his eyebrow he snarled at her, “Faith!” 

“Ok, ok – keep your pants on…………….for now.” 

Standing up she stretched like a cat and made her way around the table to lean over him, one hand on the back of his chair, the other flicking the pages in front of him.  Looking to his left he was faced with her ample cleavage just a tongue’s span away, her nipples hard and proud through her skimpy top.  Gaaaah!  The things he did for the safety of puppies, kittens and Christmas. 

When she blew softly in his ear he’d had enough.  Standing abruptly and kicking the chair backwards he grabbed her by both wrists and pulled her tight against his body.  “THIS.  STOPS.  NOW.” he hissed, his eyes flashing yellow and the force of his exhaled breath moving her hair. 

Faith just chuckled softly.  “Oh, baby.  Wanna play rough?” 

“Oddly enough, I’d prefer not touch you at all.” Disgusted, Spike shoved her away so hard she landed on her butt, looking up at him and laughing maniacally.  He stalked away, heading once again for the bathroom.  Her laughter followed him, setting his teeth on edge. 

Splashing his face with cold water to cool his temper, Spike considered the situation.  That something was not quite right with Miss Layer was all too apparent.  He was used to dealing with persistent attempts to bed him but this was ridiculous.  He was beginning to suspect that she was truly unhinged.  The thought of spending another hour with this jezebel made him shudder, let alone days; the fact that they would be watched round the clock and have to play-act at being the loving couple made him grind his teeth.  He snatched at the towel dispenser on the wall and it promptly crashed down into the sink, knocking the top off the faucet and causing water to spurt up and hit the ceiling.  Drenched by the torrent, Spike looked at himself in the vamp-reflective mirror and shook his head. 

Could this mission get any worse? 

Checking the time on his standard issue, thankfully waterproof, watch he realised they’d now be out of range for communication with HQ and there’d be no contact with base until the mission was completed.  There was no way of letting W know his qualms about Faith Layer and her mental capacity; he’d just have to make the best of it.  

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

The flashing dot of the aircraft was now steady and confirmed to those watching at HQ that it had landed on schedule at Hornshaft Atoll.  Buffy’s heart beat out a staccato rhythm, her mouth dry and her hands clasped in front of her to stop them shaking.  This was crunch time #1 of the mission, getting through the initial scans and medical workups to prove that Mr and Mrs Lucrada were prime baby-making candidates.  It had been established that on landing all hopeful recipients of the million dollar bounty were bagged and tagged, as it were, samples taken and identification confirmed before they were allowed to disembark.  Once through that initial stage, the couples were escorted to their own little paradise lost and left to their own devices.   At the thought of her lover playing make believe with the happy families, she felt the bile rise in her throat and clasping a hand over her mouth rushed out to the restroom. 

W noticed Summerpenny leave in a hurry.  Stony-faced, she returned her attention to the screen; if this relationship between her top spy and her right-hand woman disrupted the professional efficiency of the operation, it would have to end.  She’d keep a careful eye on it. 

Summerpenny slipped back into the control room a few minutes later having lost the contents of her stomach and heaved so hard her ribs felt bruised.  ‘Get a grip, Buffy’ she told herself.  She’d seen the glare W had thrown her way as she came back in.  Now was not the time to lose the professional detachment that had allowed her to rise through the ranks in such a short time.   

Buffy was required to be in the control room until Phase 2 of Mission BabyMaker kicked in.  And really, the love of her life was laying his life on the line – so where else would she be?  But it didn’t mean she had to enjoy it.  The tension level in the room was racked up to the ceiling, the air a blue haze thanks to W’s chain-smoking.  Buffy wanted to scream.  She began deep-breathing exercises to calm herself, but inhaling the cheroot-enhanced atmosphere brought on a coughing fit, earning her another glare from her red-haired boss.  Mouthing ‘sorry’ through her efforts to breathe and wiping her streaming eyes, Buffy tried another tack to distract herself. 

She recalled the day she’d applied to MI13 as a junior clerk.  She’d left high school and was unsure what to do with her future.  She’d just broken up with her high school sweetheart, her mom and sister were moving away from Sunnydale to start afresh in Virginia, and her classmates were mostly going on to university.  But Buffy didn’t want that – she wanted a new challenge.  As luck would have it she’d spotted an intriguing ad in the local newspaper and applied immediately. 

What had it read…….oh, yes – ‘Welcome [insert name here]; your mission, should you choose to accept it, will be fraught with danger, high on thrills and low on boredom.  You know you wanna dance.  Contact…….’  How could she not? 

She sent off the application form, but when a month had passed with no response, Buffy just shrugged it off as a hoax and got on with the mundane job of helping her family move and setting up her first apartment.  She’d taken a waitressing job at the Espresso Pump; boring, tiring and below minimum-wage, it just about paid the rent.  But she knew there had to be more to life. 

She was completely taken aback when arriving home late one night, she found a package behind the door.  It contained a cell phone and a note that simply read “Dial 13 – send”.  So she did.  The clipped English voice that answered stunned her.  “Miss Summerpenny?  Thank you for responding so promptly.  A car will be sent to collect you at 08:30 tomorrow.  Be ready.  And come alone.” 

The click of the line disconnecting left Buffy bewildered, mouth agape and staring at the silent cell phone.  Well!  No hoax then!  Her tummy had been buzzing with butterflies and she hadn’t slept a wink but she was ready and waiting when the car pulled up in front of her apartment block at exactly 8.30 am.  As she stooped to enter the roomy interior of the limousine, her life changed forever. 

Then there began an endless round of training, signing of Official Secrets Act documents, travel, and more training.  Buffy Summerpenny, who’d never left her native soil before, suddenly had travel stamps in her passport to places she’d never even heard of, and certainly couldn’t pronounce.  A six-month stint at London HQ fuelled her fondness for all things British and it was whilst she was there undergoing gruelling self-defence tuition that she had met him.  HIM.  Agent 00666, a legend in his un-lifetime, whispered about in breathless tones by every female with a pulse – and some without.   

Closing her eyes to commit the well-loved scene even further into her memory bank, she smiled as she recalled the sight of him striding with effortless grace across the training room floor, his muscular arms gleaming as the harsh light of the fluorescents above illuminated him and glinted off the fencing foil gripped in his left hand.  His hair was tousled by his exercise, the definition of his chest easily seen through the skin-tight vest he wore and his thighs………god, those thighs……, straining the stitching on the sides of the white fencing pants he completely filled to perfection.  The hush that had fallen as he entered the room was broken by a series of sibilant whispers as he made his way through the pockets of swooning women, head held high, eyes hooded and an amused smirk playing on his lips.  He knew the effect he was having, and he revelled in it.   

Buffy could recall how her heart had hammered in her chest, her sharply indrawn breath and the little gasps falling from her lips as she stared at him, entranced.  But that was nothing compared to the jolt that went through her when he turned his head slightly to meet her green eyes with his ice-blue orbs and winked.  

That was it.  *THWACK* Cupid’s arrow, right on target and leaving her jelly-legged and in danger of fainting.   

And nothing had changed; he could still make her melt with a look, a whisper.  Her heart still beat only for him.  But now she loved him so completely, so entirely, that without him near, she felt like half of her was missing.   

Reaching up to her neck to rub the throbbing mark that cemented their relationship, Buffy was dragged back to the present by W’s voice announcing, “Ok people, Phase 1 has been a success.  It would appear our agents have passed their first test.  Go, get some rest.  Back here in twelve hours for updates.  Summerpenny, with me please.” 

Following her boss out of the room, Buffy glanced back to see the dot of the aircraft pulse again as it started its return journey leaving William and Layer alone to carry out the mission.

Chapter 6

On returning to the main part of the jet, Blond was relieved to see that in his absence, Layer had donned the costume supplied by the quartermaster as part of her cover.  She wore plain black casual slacks, low-heeled pumps and a shapeless beige overshirt, primly buttoned from neck to hem.  The sleeves were long and loose, ending in tightly buttoned cuffs, not an inch of flesh showing.  To finish off, the make-up had gone, her hair was braided into a ponytail and she was sporting the ugliest pair of spectacles he had ever seen.  This Faith Layer, he could handle.  His demon wouldn’t be tempted by Faith the Librarian, except maybe as a hors d’oeuvre. 

Faith Lucrada, as he must now think of her, glared up at him from her seated position, and noting his amused smirk growled at him, “Can it, deadboy.  I may look meek and mild but don’t kid yourself that the clothes maketh the woman.  I could still kick your lily-white ass from here to eternity.” 

“But you look delightful, my dear; every inch the demure librarian.” 

Faith’s snarling mouth sat ill at ease with her nondescript garb.  Smirking at her, Blond passed the table and retrieved the suitcase containing his allotted costume.  He continued on to the bedroom, time to assume the life of William Lucrada, novelist.  His eyes widened in horror at a thought.  ‘If Faith’s outfit is anything to go by, G’s probably got me decked out like Oscar Wilde at a garden party.’   

Unfastening the case, he let out a sigh of relief when he found a selection of garments in muted colours – several t-shirts, both round and v-neck, some shirts, jeans and trousers and, to his amusement, boxers.  He was a commando boy, our Mr Blond – but on second thoughts perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea.  The more clothing he could place between himself and Faith Layer, the better.  ‘Must remember to get a bottle of that Mekong whiskey for G,’ he thought.  

He reached for a blue round-necked t-shirt and a pair of jeans and laid them on the bed, then stripped off his silk shirt.  As he began to unzip the designer trousers he wore, he stilled his hands.  Without turning, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth before saying in a voice devoid of emotion, “Do be a dear, little wifey, and fuck off.” 

Leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed and taking in the naked torso of her faux-husband, Faith Layer simply laughed hysterically and wandered off in a leisurely fashion.   

“Later then, hubby dearest…” 

Spike’s shoulders slumped, his chin on his chest.   What he wouldn’t give right now for a satin-sheeted bed filled with warm, naked Buffy and a mug of brandy-laced blood at body temperature.  Or a machete……………………………… 

**************************** 

Taking advantage of Blond’s occupation with his clothing, Faith Layer retrieved the tiny transmitter from the heel of her shoe and keyed in the unlock code.  When the LED flashed green, she brought it to her mouth and whispered, “Agent X reporting.  We land in 15 minutes.  All systems are go.  I repeat, all systems are go.”

On receiving an acknowledgement, she furtively stashed the transmitter in its hiding place and settled back into the seat. 

She didn’t notice the vampire staring at her from the open doorway, his icy blue eyes cold and murderous as he gazed at her calculatingly. 

****************************** 

Buffy was standing in front of W’s desk, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl.  After leaving the briefing, W had led the way back to her room in silence, striding ahead and forcing Buffy to do a little half-skip run to keep up.  Once within the plush confines of the chief’s office, time crawled as W paced back and forth behind her mahogany desk, puffing on a cheroot, whilst crossing her free arm across her body.  Just as Buffy cleared her throat to speak, W beat her to it. 

“Summerpenny...Buffy; sit down.” 

Her tone was almost gentle, not at all what Buffy was expecting.  She sat. 

W leaned back in her leather swivel recliner, her hands steepled under her chin, her gaze pensive.  “I hate to do this, Buffy, but I really need to have a little chat with you about your relationship with Agent 00666.  Now, I understand from your earlier actions that you consider yourself, what was it, ‘mated’ to him?” 

Buffy nodded almost imperceptibly, her eyes wide pools of green. 

“And this means what exactly?” 

*ivory hands running up her thighs  trailing fire in their wake as he gently lowers his head, feather light laps at her curls with his moist, cool tongue; she draws in a ragged breath and he laughs against her skin sending shivers rippling through her body.  Slowly, slowly he kisses along her labia, then licks and suckles her clitoris until she screams his name and arches against him* 

“Erm, I’m not really sure what it is you’re asking me, W.”  Buffy was blushing under her boss’ scrutiny as she recalled the night of lovemaking that had led to her being claimed. 

“Well, I’d like to know the hows, the whys, the ramifications.  Anything you think might be of interest.” 

*panting breaths as she gently floats down from her orgasm to see him prowl up the bed from between her thighs, his face glistening with the juices that had gushed from her pussy, eyes a mixture of pacific blue and golden yellow – caught between the man and the demon.  A rough lick across her nipple then a cool breath to harden it further; one finger, two fingers sliding in and out of her aching depths, pace quickening as her face flushes with her desire* 

“It’s kinda personal, W.  I’m not really very comfortable speaking about it.” 

“Buffy – we are not in a normal business.  Danger assaults us at every turn.  Any advantage we have, even something you may believe is inconsequential, could be crucial.  I’m a woman of the world, Buffy.  Just give me the basic facts.” 

*a growl from deep within his chest as he covers her mouth with his, sucking her bottom lip in between his own and nibbling on the fullness; sliding his tongue against hers, thrusting in and out to mimic the rhythm of his fingers then swirling tongue around tongue until she’s had enough of receiving and rasps her tongue across his teeth, muttering his name and begging him to fuck her* 

Basic facts?  What could ever be ‘basic’ about Spike or William’s lovemaking?  He was a master vampire, an immortal being with enhanced sight, hearing and smell capable of sensing the slightest increase in breathing, temperature, heartbeat and the gush of arousal.  His slightest touch, his look, sent her spiralling out of control – he was the maestro; her body, his Stradivarius.  And he plucked her, nightly, to a crescendo of passion. 

*green eyes wide as he takes her at her word and roughly parts her legs to wrap around his waist, thrusting his cock deep inside her; eyes meeting and holding each other’s gaze as he moves his hips in  slow, sweet torture, as she bucks her pelvis to gain friction for her throbbing clit; then a blaze of fireworks behind her eyes as he pounds her into the mattress, his shaft rubbing at her clit, his fingers digging into her shoulders and leaving marks of possession; pain and pleasure mingling as one as he bites down hard on her sweat-soaked neck, each pull of his mouth as he drinks down her blood causing mini-orgasms to crash through her womb; then the taste of his blood on her tongue as she instinctively seeks out the fluid of life – ecstasy* 

“Buffy?” 

“Huh?” 

“You were going to explain to me the mating bite?” 

“Oh; erm…. can I have a glass of water W.  My mouth’s suddenly very dry.” 

***************************** 

The jet shuddered to a halt on the runway; the occupants of the craft were both extremely nervous, but for different reasons.  Spike was potentially about to engage in the fight of his life so, yeah, not exactly calm.  Not only did he have the mission to tackle, but also he had an insane, nymphomaniac double-crossing hell-bitch to contend with.    

Faith however ------ well Faith was going home.  And everybody knows what a bitch family reunions can be.  The delivery of MI13’s top agent to her master was the price of entry to the inner sanctum.  She’d been deep undercover with the enemy for four long years, plotting and planning, and now that she was finally on her way to collect her fortune in blood money, her nerves were shredded.  She’d kill anyone who got in the way of her taking her place as S.T.A.K.E.’s number 1 agent.  Anyone. 

Grabbing the copy designer hand luggage Spike Blond grimaced.  He was accustomed to Louis Vuitton, Prada, Gucci - nothing but the best.  He was also used to Buffy, not the second-rate copy of a woman he was lumbered with for the foreseeable future.  Un-life’s a bitch – and then you fake-marry one! 

The jet’s engines slowed and stopped, the fuselage door opened up to drop down the integral stairs.  The heat and smell of the tropical day washed over Mr and Mrs William Lucrada as they passed through the doorway to embark on the next stage of their ‘married’ life. 

Despite G’s assurance that the gossamer thin layer coating his skin would withstand sunlight for a limited amount of time, Spike was still wary of stepping out into the glare of the afternoon sun.  When fabricating their application, they’d added a rider that William Lucrada was sensitive to sunlight, nothing hereditary that may mess up their supposedly golden child but enough to allow them to get him out of the unforgiving solar rays quickly without too much fuss. Of course, as he was now aware of Faith’s treachery, he felt sure that they would be fast tracked through any tests and on to the main mission quickly.  After all, if she wanted him to be discovered all she had to do was knock him out whilst he was still in the air.   

Still, as he stood perched at the top of the steps leading down to the complex, he said a silent prayer to the Powers That Be before grasping Faith by the hand and descending into the seething mass of people below. 

They were funnelled along a rope-lined passage that finished amid a bank of screens, scanners and scarily long hypodermics.  As they approached the first screened-off area, Spike activated his internal chips by biting down on the switch embedded in his right fang.  Whilst he was now sure that both he and his good ‘lady wife’ would pass the scans and tests with flying colours, her being from the enemy camp and all, he was still anxious.  He was alone in the midst of S.T.A.K.E.’s chief operations base, out of contact with HQ and suddenly saddled with an insane double-crossing ho.  And to cap it all, he kept getting the strangest feelings flooding his body, as if he was………embarrassed?  Where did that come from?  Pissed off – yes, but all coy and shy?  That just wasn’t him. 

As they were called forward to take their place in the hands of the doctors, he realised.  It wasn’t him; it was Buffy.  She must be hellish red in the face at the moment if the squirminess was passing along the bite mark to him.  Maybe she was in a worse place.  Maybe not. 

Feeling calmer as the link to Buffy reminded him of what was on the line here, and what was waiting for him back in Sunnydale, he moved forwards to take his seat and rolled up his sleeve for the pretty nurse. 

“So… Julie” he drawled, “badge says you’re ‘Bloodwork’.  Gonna work my blood up then?” 

The dark-eyed brunette blushed under his gaze.  God, this one was a hottie - and with the attitude.  With shaking hand, she withdrew the samples she needed for the lab.  The first test was done there and then – a DNA scan to prove his identity matched that on the main computer.  As she inserted the slide she’d made into the scanner and waited for it to confirm his ID, she risked a glance at him from beneath lowered lashes.  Bad move.  Body no longer in her control.  Unable to think. 

The beep of the scanner as it spat out the result on a ribbon of paper jolted Julie and she let out a little “eek” of alarm.  Regaining her composure, she verified that the man in front of her was indeed William Lucrada, novelist, and ticked the documents to allow him to move on to the next stage. 

“You’re so fine, Mr Lucrada… I mean…” she hesitated, mortified at what she’d just said “you’re fine to proceed to the next unit.  Please take this sheet with you.” 

Smirking, Spike Blond retrieved the medical sheet and clipboard and leaned towards her.  “S’been a pleasure, love” he whispered in her ear as he lightly brushed his lips across her cheek. 

Good lord – she wanted to see his babies.  Make that have his babies.  Please. 

Further tests followed, urine, saliva, more blood.  The urine was supplied by another of G’s ingenious pumps secreted near to Spike’s more than generous natural attributes.  Scans by the dozen of every part of the body, all carried out by an array of beauties occupied an hour of Spike’s time.  Spying Faith as he moved among the medical equipment, it seemed that her tests were carried out by a team of bodybuilding male models.  Seems the chief wasn’t taking any chances that the candidates would be unable to perform and was loading the dice early in the game. 

Eventually all tests were done, all boxes were ticked and all needle marks were bandaged.  Time to move through to the main event. 

***************************** 

“Very….hmm mmm….interesting, Summerpenny.  Do you mind if I open a window, it is awfully warm in here suddenly.” 

“No, W, go ahead.” 

Buffy had outlined the procedure in a detached manner, or as detached as she could get when it was about William, naked.  Guess she hadn’t been as clinical about the description as she thought, judging by W’s flushed cheeks and the hand fanning in front of her face. 

“I’m sure that the information will prove very useful.  Now, can you still sense him through the bite?  Do you have any indication of what is happening?” 

Buffy concentrated.  The emotions coming through weren’t very strong.  She sensed that he was relieved, she supposed, but other than that nothing was overlaying his general status quo.   

“I just get the feeling that everything is going according to plan, W.  He’s kind of relieved, so I think that means they got through the tests all right as we thought.  Nothing else really.” 

“Good!  Well.  Thank you, Summerpenny.  You’d better get off home and get some rest.  I want you back here by 2200 hours.  Your link with Blond is the only one we have at the moment.  It could be crucial.” 

Buffy rose from the seat and turned to go, reluctant to leave the security of HQ.   

“I could stay, W.  I’m really not tired.” 

“No; I need you to be fresh, rested.  I’ll call if anything develops. Go.” 

Buffy nodded and headed off home, anxious to get the eight hour faux rest over with and return to the fray as soon as she could. 

****************************** 

The piercing tones of the plastic-enhanced bimbette who was leading them to their love-shack, was giving him a headache.   

“So, all facilities are available to you 24/7.  You call, we run!  Okay?  We’re here to make your stay pleasurable… if you know what I mean.  We want you to make babies, people!  Lots and lots of them.  So, if the shack ain’t rockin', we’ll come a-knockin!” 

She turned her perfect Hollywood smile on them at that point, and received varying responses, ranging from titters to groans.  And one icy blue glare of death.  As she met William Lucrada’s eyes, her smile faltered and she turned quickly to resume the trek to the cabins. 

“Here we are, Shack 69 – William and Faith Lucrada.  Here’s the key.  Go!  Enjoy!” 

Spike reluctantly took the key from her red-taloned hand, grimacing at the key-fob as he did so.  He almost snorted.  This was nearly tackier than Faith; the 3-D couple on the fob moved obscenely in a parody of soixante-neuf.  ‘How thoughtful,’ he thought, ‘Just in case you forget the number of your love-shack.’  Lame; beyond lame. 

“Darling, shall we?” he smiled at Faith, hating the thought of being stuck in this situation with her. 

“Oh, yes – let’s check out the bedroom first, honey!” 

The tour leader flashed a wide smile and with a nod of encouragement, she moved on, the rest of the group following behind her like ducklings to the slaughter. 

As the door of the hut closed, a dark figure emerged from the woodland that surrounded the main complex.  Clad head to foot in black, skin-tight PVC, the raven-haired beauty uncoiled the bullwhip she carried loosely in her gloved hand and gave it an experimental crack.  She’d been impressed by what she’d seen of Spike Blond so far…and she intended to see a whole lot more, before she flayed that delicious pale skin from his well-muscled body.  Soon, very soon.

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