OCTOBUFFY CHAPTER 5

A/N : Thanks once again to Lou for beta'ing this chapter and making it such fun. Anya's words in this are mostly Lou's so if you like it, you've got her to thank. *much huggage*

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“Buffy... Buffy...wake up... shevelis`!!!”

Buffy could hear a strange hissing voice and struggled to open her eyes, which felt like they were weighted down. She had no idea where she was, or why was she lying manacled on a table ...and naked? Blinking, she peered through a fog and was even more confused to see the equally naked and bound Anyanka Jenkinskovitch come into focus, the spy hissing her name over and over.

“At last! I am trying to wake you forever, Buffy. Sleeping, sleeping – all you do is sleep! We must get out of here pronto. I’m awake longer zan they sink and we have to do something before their preparations are complete.”

“Anyanka? What ...where are we?”

“Bah! I know you are blonde, Buffy, but I didn't take you for dumb. Nautilust, da? He must have figured out we are not party girls looking for good times. He slipped us ...how do you say...a Mickey Finn? When he shot us, with the darts? Now we’re in his laboratory, tied up like two plucked chickens waiting while his buddies cook something special up for us. And you can bet it’s not borscht.”

“Hey – less of the chicken! It’s just a little cool in here!”

“We need to get out – very fast. Where’s your backup?”

Suddenly, Buffy remembered everything. The near orgy she'd found herself involved in, before that the helicopter ride with Heidi, her assessment and....Gwendolyn Post -- that poisonous bitch. Oh, she was so dead when she got her hands on her.

“There isn't any. I'm on a solo mission.”

“No backup?” Anyanka hissed across at her, disbelief colouring her voice. “Are you crazy? You are a novice in ze field, no? Is zis standard procedure for MI13?”

Buffy could do no more than shake her head. “No. I think I must have rubbed someone up the wrong way. It has to be a set-up. There's no way Nautilust could have known about me and I'm damn sure your cover held up to scrutiny. We've been betrayed.”

Anyanka closed her eyes and relaxed against the cold metal she was strapped to. What to do...she was an experienced agent and had escaped from tighter spots than this, but Buffy? What to do about Buffy. She could just leave her there...deny any knowledge of her and feed her to the wolves. It was an attractive option, trading her to Nautilust would surely buy her own freedom. And if he knew whose wife she was...

But then Xander Harris, the extremely attractive, randy young adventurer would be very angry and she could probably kiss goodbye to any more ‘shagging until sunrise’. That was what he called it, said he'd borrowed the phrase from Spike Blond, his buddy. And then there was that little matter to consider. If Buffy was harmed, it was unlikely her husband, legendary master spy and all round scary vampire that he was, would let a little thing like cooperation between their respective governments prevent him from taking his revenge.

No, all things considered, any escape plan would have to be for two. And as the senior more experienced agent, it was up to her to find a way out.

+ + + +

“No, Blond. Nothing’s wrong. Buffy checked in on schedule and she's due to buzz us again in a little over 30 minutes. She'll be fine. I told you to trust me. Even if Ms Post has a surprise set up, we're good. I've taken care of it.”

“Yeah? And how exactly? I'm getting cabin fever here W! There's nothing wrong with me. I don't need an assessment of my agility or my brain and I certainly don't need my non-existent piss tested. This is stupid. Just point me in Buffy's direction and I'll fire up the white charger and go rescue the girl.”

W sighed. She'd been expecting this but had hoped Buffy would be out of there before she got the call. Blond had been patient, far more so than she’d have believed possible, but she knew what he was capable of if he thought his wife was in danger. W had played down her concerns so that he would go to the assessment centre; if he knew that she was worried enough to send Harris and G after Buffy – well, the vampire wouldn't be happy.

“Listen to me, William.” She lowered her voice, tried to cajole him. “Try to look at it from Buffy's point of view. She's almost made it to full 00 status but that won’t happen if she doesn’t carry out a successful solo mission. How would it look if you burst in there and treated her like a damsel in distress? You could ruin everything!”

She could almost hear the screech in his brain as he fought his natural inclination to race to his mate's side and slaughter anyone who dared endanger her. But she wasn't just his mate; she was a fellow spy, a risk taker, a woman who could look after herself. She just needed the chance to show it. He wouldn’t want to take that chance away from her. W was counting on his spy brain to win out over the husband one.

“Okay, W. You win,” he grumbled. “I'll play nice...but if she's not back in my arms in 48 hours, I'll start ripping off heads until somebody tells me where she is. Deal?”

“Deal. Oh, and Blond? After your last visit to the Morgan Institute, it appears that half the staff applied for transfers to HQ and the other half are still in therapy. Try to tone it down for those impressionable young ladies, won't you? I'd hate to have to mark your file active service terminated on account of traumatising staff.”

“You wouldn't...”

“Oh, but we both know that I would. Now go. It's almost time for Buffy to report in and I need to get myself organised. You've only one more day of assessments and then I'll let you come back in and you can bite your nails in my office. W out.”

Spike tossed the phone onto the bed and leant back wearily, his hands cushioning his recently showered curls. He heard the scrape of a note being pushed under his door, and he watched as the newcomer joined the scattered drift of missives left earlier. He hadn't checked any of them, but he knew what they'd say. They'd all be variations on the same theme, horny women eager to sample the legendary Spike Blond, 00666. A year ago he would have sifted them all, ranking them in order of allure, and he would have done his best not to disappoint any of them. But not now. Now, he was more than happy to disappoint the lot.

God he missed her so bloody much, and it had got worse as the weeks went by. Now it was like a big aching void in his guts. He’d close his eyes and think of her – that helped.

Chuckling to himself, he checked his watch, and shook his head in disbelief that Spike Blond was about to shut his eyes and call it a night at just shy of midnight. He was Buffy-whipped. Or, rather, he would be when she came home.

+ + + +

It was overdue. In fact, it was way overdue. W tapped the crystal tumbler with manicured nails and checked her watch for the hundredth time. She finally had to accept the fact that Buffy Blond may be in trouble. She chewed her lip, not exactly eager to be the one to inform Spike, but knowing that she was the only one to do it. Nobody other than G, Harris and herself were aware of Buffy's mission this side of the Atlantic, and she doubted that anybody other than Gwendolyn Post knew of it back in England. In fact, she'd be willing to bet her pension that if she checked, there'd be no actual record of it at all, despite the official notification from Post's office informing her of Buffy's continued absence. Everything about this mission had felt off from the start, but orders were orders and as usual, she'd followed them to the letter. Of course, she'd built in her own fail-safes and thank god for that!

She took a bracing mouthful of scotch, then reached for the communicator and keyed in the code that would patch her through to Harris and G. She was afraid it might not be enough.

+ + +

G started as the communicator buzzed and beeped against his chest. Harris was up on his feet the second he heard it, crouched and ready to pounce as he instinctively reacted to the sound.

“Relax, Harris. It'll be W, doubtless relaying Buffy's signal. I’ll check it. Go back to sleep, there's still another hour or so before you're on watch.”

“Nah, I'm good. Having some heavy dreams to be honest. Too much candy.”

“Hardly surprising, the way you wolfed it down…Hello, this isn't good.”

“What’s up?”

“Buffy. She missed sign-in. W wants us on stand by.”

“Call it in, chief. I can't wait for W to dot all the i's and cross the t's. If we need to move, we’ve got to be ready.”

G configured the communicator and waited for W to respond. The sound of her voice drew a smile to his lips despite the circumstances, but her words soon had him frowning.

“So, nothing at all? Right. Harris is straining at the leash here. Do you have any orders? Fine, yes – I understand. Well then, we'll keep you informed and, W...if you could keep Blond off our backs for at least a couple of hours it would be most appreciated. Not sure 00666 in a rage would differentiate between friend and foe. G out.”

“So we go?” Harris was bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager for action. G nodded, barely managing to step back out of the way as the spy rushed past him to get to the equipment stashed at the back of the cave. It took no more than a minute for Harris to be kitted up in the adapted SCUBA gear again and he stood, barely restraining the urge to shake G into action, and holding out the latter's gear.

“G. Call me impatient and reckless – but would you quit the fiddling and get suited up! We have to save Buffy!”

The older man let out an exasperated sigh and fixed the spy with a decidedly icy glare. “I'm aware of that, 0069. And where, exactly, do you propose to start looking for her?”

“Well, you're gonna tell me -- that's why you're equipment guy and... oh, right. Point taken. Fiddle away. I'll be...over here.”

G shook his head. He understood Harris' anxiety; he felt it himself. But he was too experienced to let that anxiety disrupt his analytical mind. He followed procedure, that's how he got things done. Twiddling and changing settings, fine-tuning the signal – it only took five minutes but it seemed like a lifetime until he got a steady blip that pinpointed Buffy's exact location. It was moving slowly, and seemed to be heading straight for them. Maybe they were in for a bit of luck; it seemed that the submarine was about to return to dock. Made it a hell of a lot easier to board and rescue if they could do it close to land. Finally, the flashing dot that indicated Buffy's tracker was steady, and G calculated that she was no more than twenty metres away.

"But where, G? Not a lot of places for her to hide and the walls of this place can't be more than fifteen metres away max. You sure your knobs are tweaked enough, maybe need a little more stroking? I’ve got some great cliff notes on technique..."

"Very amusing. But my instruments are fully functional, thank you. And Buffy...is on the submarine that is about to surface! Harris – take cover!"

The water in front of them frothed as the sub’s conning tower broke the surface. Both men did a classic double take before scrambling to collect any evidence of their presence from the rocky shore and stashing themselves and their equipment deep in the cavern. The metallic clank of the hatch opening set their hearts racing, but the submariners disembarked and strolled off without incident, leaving them peeping warily at the sleek grey hulk.

"Where the hell is she, G?" Harris hissed.

"Hang on, I'm trying to narrow the signal. It’s weak...the hull must have some sort of shielding property But she is still here. On board I mean. Maybe she's right into the mission; after all – it’d make sense that she'd wait until the men were on shore before searching the vessel."

Xander considered. G had a point. But something felt wrong about this. Buffy Summerpenny – nope, Blond; he still couldn't get that right – was a stickler for protocol, had chewed his balls off often enough for not filing the right forms on his return from a mission. She wouldn't miss a sign-in unless there was good reason. Or bad reason.

"No, G. Something’s up. I can feel it right here." Harris placed his hand flat on his gut.

"Yes, well – that'd be the sugar poisoning you've inflicted on your poor abused digestive system."

"Naa – been there, done that."

G raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Right, fine. We'll go after her. But I'm in charge here, Harris. You follow my orders, do you hear me?"

"Yup, loud and clear, keep your boxers on. So – what's the plan, G-man?"

G groaned. "Never call me that ridiculous name again, 0069. How many times do I have to tell you?" Harris backed off, hands raised in surrender.

"Well, I suggest we get a little closer and do some more in-depth scans, maybe go below the water and then – and only then – do we make any move to enter that submersible."

Harris rubbed his chin, eyes flicking between his boss and the sub. "Yeah, we could do that...or we could do this..."

Before G could stop him, Harris was heading for the sub, zigzagging in standard approach manoeuvre, reaching the side of the sub and hugging close to the cold metal. It was a little strange to see the spy try to be unobtrusive in the SCUBA gear, but then again Harris was always was more than a little strange himself. He signalled to G to 'come on' and despite a whole host of objections, G sighed and followed suit, his own attempt to zig-zag forcing Harris to hide his grin as the gadgetmeister lumbered towards him, panting for breath.

“Now what, 0069?”

Harris grinned, gripping the miniature mouthpiece that G had added to the SCUBA outfit between his teeth, and speaking indistinctly around it.

“Now, my British buddy – we dive.”

+ + +

Anyanka was moaning, her head thrashing about as she lay on the narrow metal table. Buffy called out.

"Help! Somebody help!"

Anyanka upped the groaning and the thrashing, and a minute later Nautilust sauntered into the room accompanied by one of his scientists. He cast an amused glance at Anyanka, applauding lazily.

"Nice try, honey. Quite effective with the uninitiated, I imagine. Unfortunately for you, I watch a lot of movies. I'm not about to fall for that old chestnut. You are very alluring however. So, once I’ve dosed you with my serum I believe I will take you to my cabin and let you scream for me in private."

Anyanka let forth a barrage of guttural syllables, Buffy imagining that she was cursing up a storm in Russian. “Poshël ty…SÙKA!!” It almost sounded elegant. Nautilust was unfazed, reaching across to slide his fingers across the bound spy's taut stomach. She shivered and he laughed. "Delectable! You respond to my touch. Hmmm, I think that after all, the serum I had prepared for you is incorrect. I have a far better one in mind. You, my little Russian doll, will have to wait for your present."

He spun round and closed the gap to Buffy's bed. She strained against the manacles and snarled at him, eyes venomous.

“Nice way to treat your guests,” she snapped.

"Ah, Mrs Blond...”

Buffy froze.

“Gotcha!” He laughed, “Yes, I know who you are and who your husband is. I hear he's the possessive type. And who wouldn't be. You’re quite a prize." He cast a lascivious leer across her nudity. "Pity the collar and cuffs don't quite match, but we can make that our little secret."

Buffy spat at him. A muscle started to tic in his jaw but he kept his cool, simply wiping his cheek and holding the smile. "My but you’re feisty. I can see why he holds you so dear. But it won’t be a problem. He isn't here, nobody’s here. And by the time he arrives we’ll be long gone and you, my dear Buffy, will be an entirely new creature."

He reached for a syringe and held it up to the light, depressing the plunger so that a spurt of luminous green fluid arced in spatters across her bare stomach. He paused, the syringe nearing her manacled arm. "I'm actually quite proud of this. Very apt, I believe. Your husband will get the joke." Buffy winced as the needle pierced her flesh, an icy pain surging along her body as the unknown serum raced through her veins.

She gritted her teeth, hissing at the departing scientist. "You have no idea how big a mistake you've just made. There isn't anyplace on earth that you can hide."

Nautilust turned round leisurely, an amused smirk playing around his lips. "Gee, I never thought of that…but to quote the immortal Bard ‘there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy', Buffy’. Trust me, you’ll be amazed. Now, I must go and fix something special for your companion. We don't want her to feel left out, do we?"

Buffy was furious. He'd injected her with something that she didn't even dare think of, with who knew what side effects. He'd do the same to Anyanka too if they didn't get out of there quickly. She scanned the room, coming to the same conclusion she had before. Unless there was a miracle, they were doomed. She had to think… what would William do?

+ + + +

Spike shot up in bed, eyes open and wide awake. Buffy. Something was wrong with Buffy. They were too far apart to communicate, but extreme emotion set off a buzzer in his brain. He had to get to her, the service be damned! He'd resign if necessary, but he was going to find his wife.

In a few minutes he was dressed, grabbing the keys to his Aston Martin and racing out of the door. He left his luggage, not wanting to waste precious time packing. As he sprinted along the corridors he searched his pockets for his cell phone, found it and keyed in W's number. She answered just as he got to the car.

"Blond. I've been expecting your call. Buffy's in trouble."

His howl of anger trailed behind him as he burned rubber down the driveway and with a squeal of brakes swung out onto the open road.

* * * *

Cut to : the interior of the Aston Martin, trees and shrubs seen whipping past the window as it hurtles towards Sunnydale. A muscled hand snaps the gearstick into the next gear, slapping back onto the steering wheel and gripping it hard. Even the engine sounds angry as it screeches and whines in response to the touch of the furious spy. The same hand unlatches the glove compartment, scrabbling about until it finds the prize – Mrs Blond's knickers. With a feral growl, the vamped out agent stuffs them into his pocket and zooms towards HQ. “Hold on, love. I'm coming to get you – and if you're hurt in any way, there's gonna be cold blooded murder.”

DOO . DOO . DOOOOO . DOO . DOO . DOOOOO . DOO . TE . DOO.

TBC