Chapter 1

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

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

“That’s it -- I’m officially numb.” 

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

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

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

“Sorry, G, you first…” 

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

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

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

“Light , G – not write.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“William!  What about the driver….” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“William…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still – wonder what they’re up to….”


TBC

Chapter 2

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

“Like this, sweetheart?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Agent.  Agent Harris, Xander Harris.” 

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

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

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

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

“Cordelia…isn’t it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!” he hissed. 

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

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

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

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

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

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A beat.  A shared look. 

“We’re on our way.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TBC

Chapter 3

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

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

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

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

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

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“William… switch… you lie back, ok?”

“Nooo…don’t stop…” 

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

“I know what’s good for me…you are.” 

“Awww…” 

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

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

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

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

“Aw, poor bossy baby got a boo-boo?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The knock on the window startled them both.   

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That works out nicely then.” 

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

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

G shouldered his way through the masses to greet them. 

“Trouble, 00666?” he muttered quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you hack a computer, Osborne?” 

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

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

“Yes, sir.” 

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

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

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

“You’re new.  What do you do?” 

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

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

“What we need you to do…Miss..?” 

“Cordelia Chase.” 

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

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

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

“Mrs . Blond… Buffy Blond.” 

“Oh!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, ok.  I’d like to stay.”

“Great.  Welcome to Sunnydale.” 

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

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

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

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

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

“I..I think so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tara’s anguished cries echoed off the walls. 

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

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

 

TBC

Chapter 4

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

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

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

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

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

Buffy smiled.  She knew that feeling well. 

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

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

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

“W’s a cool customer alright.  We know absolutely nothing about her private life.  Nobody dare ask her!”  

Tara smiled, tears drying on her face.  “Yeah, she’s very protective.  She…she...told me ‘I kind of like having something that's just, you know, mine’ and I melted.  She had me then.  All of me.” 

Again with the nodding; yep.  Been there, done that.  

Tara calmed then, her tears drying as she began to doze off, exhausted.  Buffy covered her with the quilt and shut the door quietly. 

“She alright?” 

William nodded towards the closed door.  He was trying to act unconcerned, but Buffy knew that if his sister was hurting, he was too.  They were close, more than close.  For a century they’d only had each other.  If it wasn’t for the fact that Tara was such a sweetie, she may be jealous.  But she was really such an empathic and gentle creature that anybody who met her immediately wanted to take care of her. 

“Yeah, she’s sleeping now.  William, she’s so broken.  She’s totally in love with W.  I’m talking tweeting-birds-love-you-‘til-I-die-and-if-you-don’t-kiss-me-soon-I’ll-pop kind of love.  And now we know, it all makes sense.  You’ve seen W lately, don’t you think she’s been happier, more relaxed?” 

William nodded.  It was true.  W had been almost playful at times.  It was nice to see.  And Tara - he’d been so wrapped up in Buffy, drowning in her, and somehow he’d missed this hugely important event rocking his dear sister’s world.  He felt awful.  He had to fix it, get W back for her, show her he cared.  He had to do it for both of them.  W was more than just his boss; she was his friend. 

“So help me Buffy.  I’m going to rip that bastard’s head from his bloated body and shove it so far up his arse he’ll be able to eat his lunch from the inside.” 

Spike couldn’t keep still, his jaw working as he paced.  For the first time, she realised that she’d married a predator, a creature that could actually do the things he threatened without blinking.  Oh, she knew he wouldn’t harm an innocent, would only pummel those deserving of pain.  But still…a part of her quailed. 

Of course, that tiny part was subdued by the whole gung-ho ‘my husband’s so hot when he’s threatening to behead somebody with his bare hands’ nympho that now ruled the rest of her body.  He was most definitely distracted; took him all of two minutes to notice her increased pulse rate, the scent of her arousal.   

His eyes when they hit on her were like death-rays.  Blue, focused, smouldering… burning right into her and melting her from the inside.  Oh god, she wanted him.  Right now.  Sane and sensible Buffy, with the sleeping sister-in-law the other side of the door, had left the building and was happily skipping with little fluffy lambs.  Mrs Buffy Blond wanted her man, and her man she was going to have – immediately, if not sooner! 

She turned the tables, stalking him, growling in her throat.  William stood up straight, surprised at her actions.  But then he raised his eyebrow, tilted his head and did the tongue thing.  Oh now she was definitely having him!  Done prowling, she seized his lapels and drew him to her, sliding her hands inside his jacket to find his still naked chest.  Tongue teasing his lips, she bit down drawing blood from his tender flesh.  The rumble that emanated from his throat told her she’d struck pay dirt.  She walked backwards towards their bedroom dragging him by his lapels and with his lip caught between her sharp teeth.  For a vampire, it was foreplay nirvana. 

Buffy’s back met the bedroom door with a thud, her hands fumbling behind her for the door handle.  The lock clicked open and the Blonds tumbled headlong into the room, Spike landing on top of his wife as they fell to the floor, his lip still gripped mercilessly in the vice of her teeth.  He moaned against her, running his tongue along her lip as it met his.  Buffy responded by moaning against him, freeing his lip with a pop.  The bruised flesh throbbed where she’d bitten hard enough to draw blood and he watched, fascinated, as she gathered the droplets clinging to her lips on her moist, pink tongue.  She licked up his blood and he mirrored her actions, eyes focused on her throat as she swallowed. 

“God, Buffy!  You are an evil vixen!  I’m all tense and trying to be focused and you go and pull out the sexy siren card.  Not exactly cricket!” 

“Sorry, baby, if you’d rather not…” she scooted back on her heels, and then jumped to her feet to return to the living room. 

“Not so fast, missy, you follow through on your promises!  If I’m being distracted, I’m being distracted good and proper.  C’mere!” 

He leapt up, gripped her upper arm as she tried to slip past him, the scent of her causing his nostrils to flare in appreciation.   Pushing her back into the room, he kicked the door shut behind him with a Gucci-shod foot.  The jacket soon pooled on the floor to be joined by Buffy’s shirt, the clothing somehow miraculously leaving their bodies despite the fact that they never seemed to leave hold of one another.  The backs of Buffy’s knees hit the bed and she let herself fall to the surface, pulling Spike with her.  Her hands reached between them, eager to breach the final barrier as she fumbled with his fly.  Spike batted her hands away, unzipping both of their pants in short order.  Buffy’s hips raised and she wriggled out of the trousers, blessing the powers that be that her shredded thong had been left on the floor of the Aston Martin.   

Spike toed off his shoes, bouncing to his feet to shimmy out of his trousers before lunging back onto the bed with a throaty growl and covering his wife with his cool body.  He whispered his love in her ear, his breath moving her hair as he made her blush with his suggestions.  One hand moved to caress her cheek, cup her jaw as he flicked his tongue across her lips.  Buffy’s sharp indrawn breath and arched back encouraged him and the hand moved lower, lingering at the pulse point on her neck before sweeping along her collarbone and down to cup one pert breast.  He swallowed her moan, sucking her tongue into the cool cavern of his mouth and nibbling on her lips with exquisite bites.  Her nipple responded, puckering to hardness in an instant.   

Spike abandoned her lips to trail wet kisses along the side of her neck, biting down hard at the juncture with her shoulder.  Buffy shuddered with pleasure.  His bite never failed to thrill her, even a blunt bite that skimmed her skin.  But she desperately wanted more…. 

“Spike…I need you inside me, now, cock and fangs!  Bite me now… please…” 

Buffy’s hands were fluttering along his back, trying to draw him tighter against him.  He was hard and ready, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in her heat.  Her pleas to bite her were electrifying.  It wasn’t the first time – hell, it wouldn’t be the last – but when she begged him to let his demon loose, it just filled him with absolute pleasure that she accepted him for everything he was. 

Buffy felt his face change against her neck, felt his fangs as they grazed her skin where they lengthened.  She moved her head so that he could see the expanse of her skin where she stretched.  The hand at the small of his back urged him to enter her.  He leant up a little; taking in the sight of his golden girl spread out beneath him, open and vulnerable as she offered herself to him without restriction.   

“Buffy!  God, I love you so much!” 

“Well, Big Bad – time to show me.”  She thrust her hips up towards his straining erection, managing to rub her moist curls along the head.  Spike growled, his head dipping towards her neck as his cock pushed past her outer folds.  Buffy gasped, her head thrown back and he struck, his fangs pressing against her flesh before piercing the skin and letting a trickle of blood coat his lapping tongue.  He moved within her, timing his slow thrusts with his suckles at her neck, Buffy wrapping her legs around him and meeting his hips with her own.  The dual penetration, and his slow pace, quickly brought her simmering on the edge of completion.  

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

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

“William…did that feel different to you?  Desperate almost?” 

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

“I’m here; I’ll always be here.  But poor Tara.  We have to do something.” 

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

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

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

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

Gulp. 

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

“No need; we’ll sneak up on them, see if they’re on their toes.  Buffy?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spike chuckled.  “Yeah, I know – you’re the boss, you hold the whip hand.  Speaking of which… 

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

“Ahem, Blond, old chap…glad you could make it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

“Well, that was embarrassing…” 

“Erm…yeah, but still he doesn’t do the decent thing and go to sleep… Hey, Captain Picard! – time to stand down” 

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

“Hmm; I think I’m getting the picture.  Shall we see what we can do to ease the situation?” 

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

“There, there…so pretty.  All better now?” 

“Not really, Buffy…bit worse to be honest…for god’s sake, woman, have pity!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better now?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I know you, Mr…?” 

“I don’t believe so; maybe by reputation…” 

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

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

“Sorry; not that I recall.” 

He blinked, nonplussed.  “But surely….doesn’t Rupert Giles work with you?” 

“Do you mean…G?  You know G?” 

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

“Sorry.” 

“Oh.  Well, that’s a disappointment.  No matter…he’ll remember me when we meet later.” 

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

“Why G?  You have me… why involve him?” 

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

“No, I just…he’s a colleague, nothing more.  But you leave him alone.” 

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

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

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

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

Where was Spike Blond? 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

G smiled at him, acknowledging the gesture.   

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

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

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

“Rupert, old chap.  Do you have a minute?” 



 

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

“Hey, Mr Blond…..if you can’t take the heat….” 

“That a challenge?  Hey, can’t beat Agent…oh…oh…fuck…” 

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

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

“Erm, Buffy………not funny….” 

 

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

TBC

Chapter 5

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

“Ethan Rayne.  I might have known you’d resurface one day!”  

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

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

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

“Ripper, old man…do tell your witless thug to put me down.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d prefer to deal with the organ grinder, not his pet monkey…” his voice trailed off to a chuckle.  

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t stifle the growl as Rayne spoke.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Blond.  Leave him be.  We can’t afford to risk W.  Untie him.”  

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

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

And he was gone.   

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

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

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

“What?”  

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

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

Spike Blond chuckled.  

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

“A moment.  Miss Chase!”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Buffy… Tara …”  

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

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

“I’ll be back later, Mrs Blond…don’t undress without me….”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The chuckle from Harris had Blond almost dropping the thing.   

“What?”  

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

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

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

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

“Yep; let’s head ‘em up and move ‘em out.  There’s a damsel to be rescued.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And they will. Trust me.  I’m not just a pretty face…”  

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

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

++++  

“Anything, G?”  

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

“Pretty much.”  

“Well then; could you pass me that probe?  I’m keeping myself busy….”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  

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

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

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

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

 

*cut to*  

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

“Bloody hell, Buffy!”  

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

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

TBC

Chapter 6

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

“No – I’ll do it, Harris.  Move out of the way.”  

“But I’ve already got it…leave go!”  

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

“G?  This is 00666 and 0013 reporting in.  We found…”  

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

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

“Do you copy, G?  Are you there?”  

“I’m here, Blond; is she alright?”  

A beat.  

“Gimme it… you’re taking forever.  Harris here, G, she’s gone.”  

A collective indrawn breath.  

“Gone…you don’t mean…”  

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

“Understood.  Have that.”  

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

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

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  

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

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

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

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

“What can I say, Bleach boy.  Just doing my best to perform up to your standards – don’t you know you’ve always been my Yoda?”  

“Touché, 0013!  Come on, grab your pocket rocket in those clammy hands of yours and we’ll go take us out some demons.  May as well salt the earth before we get back to HQ.”  

With a jaunty whistle the two spies moved through the caverns, confident that if there were any of Weisswurst’s minions not yet departed for the grisly matrimonial celebrations, they’d soon be in need of a shroud, not a wedding outfit.  It was great to be a good guy.  

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

The Magic Box had never been busier.  Blond and Harris were due any second and the assembled agents and other officers were milling about trying to look like customers.  The fact that usually there would only be Buffy, in her former guise of Miss Summerpenny, or lately Cordelia Chase manning the whole shop façade didn’t stop the rest of them from cruising the shelves or suddenly finding an abstract fertility statuette absolutely riveting.  Buffy rolled her eyes.  But she couldn’t blame them.  This was too important; W’s safety was at stake.  The jangle of the bell over the door drew everybody’s gaze.  

Harris strolled in, hair mussed and face splattered with green goo.  He was smoking a cigarillo with studied ease, looking every inch the suave spy as the smoke curled up in front of his velvet eye patch.  Cordelia sashayed to his side placing a manicured hand on his shoulder.  

“Agent Harris,” she murmured breathily, “It’s good to have you back.  I need to take you through to the back for immediate…debriefing.”   A world of meaning sparked between them.  And wasn’t there just a little too much stress on the ‘have you’?  

Buffy looked anxiously towards the door.  Agent 0013 noted her line of sight and shrugged off the crimson painted talons of the delectable Miss Chase to move towards her.  He didn’t notice the brunette’s moue of disappointment as he left her side.  

“He’s here, Buffster – just came via the less flammable route,” he indicated with a nod to the back door.  Buffy turned to look just as a vision in black Lycra burst through, sapphire blue eyes searching out one thing.  Her.  

She rushed to envelop him in her arms, kissing him before he could speak.  She was definitely making the leap to active agent after this; she couldn’t stand the tension of separation.  And Chase was well qualified to keep the home fires burning.  Reluctantly abandoning his lips to drag in much needed air, Buffy gazed at her husband’s face checking for wounds.  He seemed intact, a small jagged cut just behind one ear and the beginnings of a black eye. They’d heal in no time with his vampire constitution.  The rumble of his laughter stilled her hands as she was bending his head to check his scalp.  

“What?”  

“’s nothing; it’s just – feel like a soddin’ chimp being groomed, love.”  

She gave him an affectionate tap on the head then turned back to the room and the eager faces all trying to look disinterested but failing miserably.  “You’d better deliver your report before we have a revolt.”  

Blond snapped into info-mode, striding to the counter and hopping up.  Buffy couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips as he crossed one leg over the other thigh, stretching the Lycra material deliciously tight.  He met her eyes and winked, curling his tongue suggestively. God was he going to be seriously ravished later, maybe sooner!  

“Listen up, troops.  We got to the caverns and could hear words between W and that ponce Ethan Rayne, but it’s a bloody labyrinth in there and by the time we reached the location, they’d gone.  At that point we reported in to you lot, then had a bit of fun pummelling demons.  Not much of a workout actually, miserable excuses for evil.  Makes me ashamed to call ‘em second cousins twice removed.”  

“Blond…more detail, less lateral thinking.”  

“Sorry, G.  Yeah, right.  So…from what we could hear of the charming Mr Rayne, it would seem W has been whisked off to Austria - Salzburg to be exact.  Apparently Mr Kiss Kiss has a special chapel all set aside just waiting for a blushing bride.  Enough to make you heave, isn’t it?  Our W with that git’s warty fingers… filthy swine.  So it’s skis and slivovitz all round, G?”  

“Very droll.  But yes, I suppose we should make plans to head out.  One of us has a legitimate invitation, and Rayne said they’d be coming by to collect the lucky blighter; that’d be me, by the way.  We can track from that.  I’ll go along and pretend to play and meanwhile we’ll already have agents in place in Austria waiting for the optimum moment.  Right then, Blond, Harris – select our best men for the advance team.  We’ve a wedding to get to.  Buffy, you’ll coordinate things with Chase from here.  We’ll need the jet, maybe the heli too…stealth gear, snow wear, full range of radio equipment.  I’ll take care of the weaponry.”  

“No.”  

“We’ll meet up in three hours to finalise the…I beg your pardon?”  

“I said no.  I’m coming with you.”  

“Buffy…” Spike Blond interrupted.  

“Listen, I’ve been in the jungle, I’ve fought against a skanky double-crossing ho, I’ve been bitten and…other things…all in the line of duty.  I know I’m ready to hold my own in the field and I’m not staying here while you lot swan off and have fun.  I’m coming with.  End of discussion.”  

“Sure it’s just your own you want to hold, pet?”   

“Spike!  Focus!  You know I’m right.  I’ve got all the certificates I’ll ever need, more than some of the agents already active.  I just need to clock field time.  G – back me up, you’ve seen my moves.”  

“Better not have,” Spike mock-growled.  

“Yes.  Ahem.  Well, I suppose…if London okays it, Buffy, I’ll sanction it in W’s absence.  But strictly in a supporting role, mind, no reckless jumping right into the fray.”  

“Trust me, G.  I’ll be good as gold.”  

What on earth had he agreed to…  

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

Later, once mission dockets had been sent to all active agents and stealthsuits had been stripped off and sent to forensics to check on the demons’ origins, Spike and Buffy Blond found time to share a moment.    Spike had ducked into W’s empty room and pulled his wife after him, the unexpected tug on her hand sending her off balance and tumbling against his sculpted chest.   Heaven.  She inhaled his unique scent and closed her eyes.  How had she lived before having this in her life?  How had she managed to get out of bed when the closest she got to him was a brief touch of his hand as he took documents from her?  She shivered as she realised how close she came to losing him every time he stepped out of HQ and into his 00666 role. Well, never again.   

“Buffy.  I’m not sure it’s a good thing you coming to Austria.  I know, you’ve been on missions – we’ve been on missions – but this is a particularly nasty set-up.  I’ll have enough on my hands keeping Harris in check and G from diving in headfirst.  If I have to take care of you too, I may leave myself open.”  

The temperature of the room seemed to have dropped, enough to cause the vamp to shiver.  Buffy took a step back.  ‘Way to go, mate.  Just broke the number one rule – don’t treat the little woman like a little woman.’  

He tried a tentative smile that froze at the look in her eyes.  Whatever he said now would mean the difference between hot loving and cold-shouldering.  Oh bugger!  

“WHAT!!  You’ll take care of –” In a flash he closed the distance between them and stopped the tirade about to burst from her lips in the best way he knew how.   Buffy beat on his chest to get him to let go of his grip on her shoulders, but gradually the fists flattened out to become caressing palms and he couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips.  He still had it…  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“William…Spike.  I’m coming with you.”  

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

“I know, love -- just don’t want anything to happen to you.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seems like, pet.  God knows why.”  

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

“Oh my god! The intercom!  I must have knocked it when we…”  

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

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

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

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

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

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



 

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

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

TBC

Chapter 7

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.” 

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

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

“But he’d like to come back.” 

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

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harris!  I’m impressed!  Very commanding for an amateur. What we waiting for then?  Let’s go.” 

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

++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

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

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

+++ 

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

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

“Whedon?  Anything?” 

Agent Whedon shook his head in the negative.  “No, sir, nothing yet.  But I haven’t finished scanning on the…” 

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

“Lead on, I’ll follow.  What do you have in mind?” 

“Well, since Mr Kiss Kiss is doing a little meeting and greeting…it would be awfully rude not to turn up, don’t you think?” 

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

“You can’t be serious…Spike…William!” 

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

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

“Fine.  But come back dust and I’ll never forgive you.”   

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

“What?  Standard issue pet! Well – it is on my missions.  How are you fixed, Harris?” 

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

“Bugger me!  It’s Humphrey Bogart! You been raiding my wardrobe?” 

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

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

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

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

+++++++++++++++ 

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

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

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

++++++++++++++++ 

“The trick, Harris, is to look like you belong even if you don’t, yeah?” 

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

“To the ends of the earth, Harris – to the ends of the earth.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Herr Blond.  I did not expect to see you here.” 

“No doubt.  You didn’t think I’d miss W’s big day, did you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Help……………..me…….” 

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



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

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

“Quit wriggling!  You’re spilling it!” 

Very unmanly giggling.  “Buffy!  I can’t help it………your tongue tickles…………” 

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

 

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

Chapter 8

The wail of sirens flooded the room the second Blond’s fangs made contact with the repulsive blubber of Weisswurst’s neck.  Harris launched himself in a graceful arc over the tussling pair to take out two of the heavies advancing to protect their boss from his friend.  Yes – his friend .  Dammit, Blond was infuriating but that vamp had had his back on too many occasions for Harris to let him be dusted now.  Damn fool would never let him live it down if that happened… 

And Buffy’s reaction?  Don’t even go there… 

‘Focus, Harris – the mission first, self-flagellation later’ 

He crash-landed on the thugs, slamming their heads together as they staggered and fell, their guns clattering away across the parquet.  Bullets wouldn’t kill Blond but would certainly have slowed him down – and having spotted the advancing bodyguards, a slowed-down Blond down was the last thing they needed. 

“Blond!  Get it done and move!” 

Spike was struggling to swallow the demon’s blood.  It was putrid, like his knobbly flesh; Blond was sure he could feel globules of lard sticking in his throat.  He stifled the urge to gag.  He’d find another way to dispose of the warty monstrosity because there was no way in hell that he could keep this up.  Christ, the cholesterol alone would put him in a coma, not to mention the stomach-churning stench emanating from the monster trying to squirm out of his grasp.   

Twisting Weisswurst around to block a lethal looking blade aimed for his jugular, Blond ripped his fangs from the slimy grey flesh beneath the quivering jowls of his victim.  With a flash of preternatural speed the vampire snagged a sleek Glock 37 from the nearest goon’s shoulder holster.  He hefted its weight in his hand. 

“Thanks, Lurch.  Nice gun,” he said admiringly as he drew it back and pressed the muzzle against the demon’s temple, squeezing the trigger the instant it made contact.   

Guests scattered, screaming, as the shot rang out.  Harris ended up behind a table laden with party fare, spinning round to check on his compatriot before helping himself to one of the larger canapés.  He smirked as Blond dropped Mr Kiss Kiss to the floor and turned to wipe his hands clean of the demon’s blood on the white tablecloth, now spattered with brains and other bodily fluids.  Time seemed to stop; nobody made a move towards them but the spies took a defensive stance, back-to-back and facing outwards with weapons at the ready.   

Harris eyed his spermositor nervously; still unsure as to what would happen if he squeezed the trigger.   He’d cocked it earlier when things were starting to look bad, readied the deathly ray, but the actual squeezing?  Not really happening… 

“You know that G said this thing would melt flesh…what if it backfires?  Cos my flesh is kinda nice just the way it is.” 

“Too late for the j-j-j-jitters, Harris.  You’re such a big girl!”  Blond’s eyes glittered, his lips curled in a grin of anticipation as the freeze-frame ended and more heavies zeroed in on them.  He threw the Glock down and reached for his own phallic weapon.  “G’s never given us a dud yet.  I’m up for it but if you’re too scared…” 

“As if!  Bring it on, dead boy.  They don’t call me Quick Draw McGraw for nothing!  Let’s kick ass!” 

Both spies were now eagerly awaiting the inevitable showdown.  Their delight in the down and dirty part of the job was why they made such a lethal team, and merited them being classified with the coveted ‘00’ codenames.  They were the best in the Service and they knew it. 

In tandem, the duo unleashed burst after burst of energy ray from their unfeasibly shaped guns. It wasn’t pretty; G hadn’t been exaggerating.  When the beam of cold green light came into contact with a body, it started to bubble and was soon reduced to a puddle of gloop and the wail of a dying scream.  Diabolical? Yes.  But these were demons, and evil ones at that.  The end seemed to justify the means. 

The angry bellow and the crash of the table collapsing behind Blond drew Harris’ eyes despite him being busily engaged in making demon soup.  What the fuck? 

“Blond!  Behind you!” 

The vampire spun round, trying to dodge blood-encrusted fingers as they groped for his throat. 

“Bloody hell!  What does a bloke have to do to kill a fetid poofter like you, Weisswurst?” 

“Ha!  Something more, apparently, zan you are capable of imagining, Meester Blond.  How remiss of you not to know zat my body regenerates.  You see, I am invincible!  And you, puny vampire…are about to vish you had never interfered in my plans.” 

Weisswurst nodded over Blond’s shoulder, Blond turning to follow the direction of the demon lord’s signal.  He stifled a frantic roar when he saw W’s terrified eyes and the knife pressed to her throat by yet another of the bridegroom’s muscle-bound henchmen. 

“Submit to my vill, gentlemen -- your veapons?” 

There was no choice but to comply with the order.  A thin trickle of blood was already making its way down W’s pale neck and Spike Blond could smell her fear.  He obeyed his training rather than his instinct when he flipped the gun and handed it over.   

“Blond!  Are you crazy?”  Harris hissed at his partner as the flabby grey sausage-like fingers closed greedily over the MI13 weapon.  “Fight, man!  Come on!” 

The rip-and-rend demon battled with the coolly detached spy.  For once, the spy won.  “Just do as he says, Harris.  We’ve no choice.  W.” 

The one-eyed man spun round to look at his boss.  Her green eyes were huge with fear and she was visibly shaking.  The meaty hand gripping her arm tightened further and she let out a squeal of pain.   

“Bastard!  Let her go!”  Harris lunged forwards, only to be restrained immediately by the cool grip of Spike Blond. 

“Harris.  Not now,” he ground out.   

With a snarl of impotent rage Xander Harris did as the more experienced spy asked and handed over the weapon. 

Things didn’t look good.  The two agents were frogmarched out of the room past the terrified W and off into the bowels of the castle.  The clang of the iron door shutting them in the pitch-black chamber seemed to seal their fate. 

“Thanks for nothing!  I’d have taken the bastard if you’d let me!  Now we’re stuck down here and -W’s all alone.  Since when did you become Captain Sensible then?” 

Harris heard the creak of shifting bones as Spike changed his features to easier see the confines of their cell.  Dank, dark, no handy little trapdoors; pretty much as he’d expected. 

“Couldn’t risk W.  Anyway, have I ever let you down before?  Trust me.” 

Xander wandered over to the far wall and hunkered down against the clammy walls.  “Trust you.  Is that what I’ve come to now – trusting a demon who couldn’t even eat his dinner?  Please let this all be a dream.” 

Blond settled on the floor next to him and patted himself down until he found the G gadget he’d pinched when the old man wasn’t looking. With his enhanced vampiric eyesight he made short work of piecing together the tiny tubes and connectors that made up the lantern that suddenly illuminated the dungeon. 

“Whoa!  Warn a fella would ya?  I think my good eye’s imploded!”  Harris had his arm firmly across his eyes, one hand rubbing frantically at his weeping lid.  “And much as I appreciate the Portasun, couldn’t you have come up with something actually useful like – oh, I don’t know – a key or something?  Maybe a nifty bulldozer?” 

“Will you shut the hell up!  I’m feeling a mite peckish here, Dead-eye Dick, and I don’t see room service arriving anytime soon.  May just have to nibble on what’s handy to get rid of the taste of Mr Rank in my mouth.  I told you to trust me .  Now go cower in the corner like a good puppy and let the Big Bad get to work.” 

The dark-haired spy smirked, the banter between the two of them although full of barbs was the way they communicated and it solidified their bond of friendship.   Thing was he did trust Blond; he trusted him with his life.  And more to the point, he trusted him with W’s.  He moved away to the far corner and leant against it, arms crossed in defiance. 

“Okay, Blond.  Do whatever you have to – I’ll have forty while you play with your toys.” 

“Done playing.” 00666 shook his hands out like a magician and there appeared in his palm a metallic globe about the size of a tennis ball.  He twisted it and it began to hum and glow.  Then he quickly laid it at the foot of the iron door and backed off to stand beside Harris.   

“I do not want to know where you had that one stashed, Blond.” 

The vampire’s reply was lost in the heavy boom that heralded the disintegration of the barrier that kept them from W’s side.  Seconds later, the cell door had been reduced to rubble. 

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

“So what do you think of the ancestral pile, old chap?  Not quite Bath is it?  But still, he does try.”   

G walked with Ethan Rayne through the shadowed grounds of Weisswurst’s castle “It wouldn’t be out of place at Disneyworld,” he grunted.  It was grossly over-turreted and a plethora of deformed statues lurked hideously behind bushes to take the unsuspecting visitor by surprise.   

“Ah, I see you’ve noted the stone ancestors?  That little beauty is Weisswurst’s mother.”   

“Good god…” G couldn’t suppress a shudder.  “No need to ask where he gets his looks from.” 

“Oh, don’t worry – she won’t be at the wedding.  None of them will, actually.  It seems that the only way to make it to the top in the Weisswurst clan is by killing off your bloodline in the most obscenely terrible way imaginable.  My master himself had offspring who turned on him but he made short work of them as you can see.”   

Rayne indicated a row of headless statues ranged round a cauldron containing what G guessed would be their missing heads.  “That’s part of the reason he just simply had to have W, to make more children.  I know you think it’s all about revenge but he is entirely taken with the fiery chit.  She’ll want for nothing.  Oh, she’ll last until the birth of the first litter – but a human birthing the Master’s spawn?  A bit tricky, old chum…and they’re so hungry when they’re born.  Don’t fret, though, she’ll have a super life until then.” 

Rayne wasn’t prepared for the fist that smashed into his face and catapulted him backwards into the bushes.  But G was.  He took to his heels immediately and headed towards the bright lights and the music. 

It was at the exact same moment that Blond had Weisswurst in his grip and his fangs in his flesh that G slipped into the ballroom.  Keeping to the edge of the throng he watched helplessly as the two spies surrendered their weapons and were bundled off.  Thinking on his feet, he quickly sidled out and holed up in the corridor until he spied an exit.  He knew he didn’t have long before Rayne came to and sounded the alarm, but it was entirely likely that the effete pillock wouldn’t want the world to know he couldn’t handle an old duffer like G, and would try to pretend that nothing was amiss. 

Spying an unguarded door, whilst everyone was gawking at the removal of Blond and Harris, G shot outside into the darkness and headed out to find Buffy and the others.  Things had changed.  They no longer had the luxury of surveillance; W’s fate depended upon the operatives’ ability to pull the proverbial rabbit out of the hat. 

As he ran through the dark, the memory of W’s haunted features and the tears on her face hardened his resolve.  He wouldn’t let her down. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

Buffy Blond knew the moment things started to go wrong.  She could feel Spike’s rage through the mating link and it nearly had her screaming and clawing at her neck.  She vowed that she’d have him show her how to tone it down a little so that she could work through   the turmoil of emotions the overload caused.  It was hard for her to fight down the anger and killing urge she felt and she swallowed, hard, as she realised if she was feeling it at that level, William must be almost incandescent in his fury. 

She packed away her communikit and jumped to her feet, startling the snoozing Osborne and Whedon who were nestling against each other in the undergrowth.  “Guys!  Move it – we’re needed on ops.  Playtime’s over: we’re joining the big leagues.  NOW !” 

The two novice agents stumbled to their feet.  Once again their eyes met in an unvoiced vow to hide at the very rear of HQ when they returned and never, ever come to the notice of the people at the dirty end of the job.  Maps and research into demon languages would suit them fine.  Until then, Buffy Blond - despite her petite stature and girly hair – was a veritable Valkyrie who demanded their immediate compliance with her every order. 

She took off, hissing over her shoulder for them to keep up and simultaneously signalling for backup from the flight team, and hopefully the wet-team they should have retrieved by now.  Osborne and Whedon could barely keep her in sight as they crashed through every bush and thicket in their path.  Soon Weisswurst Castle loomed before them and Buffy halted, gasping for breath.  She was panicked, wanting to reach her husband’s side but knowing instinctively that if she barged in she may simply give Mr Kiss Kiss the added advantage of a second hostage.  No, she’d have to plan her assault – not and easy task as she had no idea of layout, numbers, whereabouts… 

Think, Buffy!  What would William do?  Or W?  Or G? 

She almost cried with relief as G himself called her name, backlit by illumination from the castle. 

“Buffy!  Are you alone?  Where’s the team?  Quickly now, we have to move!” 

“G!  Thank god.  Am I glad to see you!  William…?”  She tried to keep the edge of panic from her voice, made a valiant effort at it too. 

“He’s fine; Harris and Blond were overpowered and taken off to the dungeons but I don’t imagine they’ll stay there long.  I know for a fact that Blond made very free with my belongings the last time he visited my lab.  I wager they’ll be back in the fray any minute now.  So…the team?” 

“On their way.  The jet’s just touched down so they’ll be about ten, fifteen minutes getting here.  But we have the boys…any minute now.”  Buffy pointed back the way she’d come as the shaking and sweat-soaked desk jockeys finally caught her up. 

“Well, it’ll have to do.  We can’t wait.  They’ve got W captive in the ballroom and I’d lay odds they’ve drugged her or else she’d have tried to fight them.  We have to help her.  Rayne outlined what’ll happen if that damned ceremony goes ahead….” 

Buffy didn’t want to know.  Her brief meeting with Weisswurst was more than enough to have her gagging at the memory.  She didn’t need any more fuel added to that fire, thank you very much.   

Turning round to check that her slightly wilted companions had recovered, she marched forwards.  “Fine then, let’s get to it.” 

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

The seven demons previously guarding the cell were now part of the corridor décor, adding interesting abstract designs in shades of purple, green and red to the stone walls.  The lack of weapons meant Blond had to rely on fist and fangs to rip at flesh and Xander Harris was all too happy to take the hand-offs and finish the slam-dunk.  It hadn’t taken long; they’d had the element of surprise and the impetus of saving W from a rape worse than death to spur them on. 

Silently they crept through the lower levels and back up to the main floor of the house.  By the sound of the music coming through the walls, Weisswurst’s party was back in full swing and W’s time was running out.  Spike stopped, Harris clumsily running into him and cursing under his breath. 

“Can it, Harris.  I’m trying to think…” 

“Yeah, I got that -- figured it’d be way too complicated for you to think and walk at the same time.  So what’s the plan?” 

Thing was, right at that moment, Blond didn’t have one.  But it wasn’t the first time he’d relied purely on his instinct and his urge for survival.  Made it all the more exciting once you got past the crippling fear…not that he’d ever admit to anyone that he ever had a moment’s doubt. 

As he mulled over his options, Spike felt Buffy’s frantic emotions through the link.  It was a mix of hopefulness, anxiety, blind animal panic – and she was coming nearer.  He smiled; he loved it when a plan came together.  All they had to do was wait.  Buffy wouldn’t turn up empty-handed; she was far too well trained for that.  It was all in the timing. 

“Right, Harris – we need weapons.”  Blond glanced around the baronial hallway.  “Looks like our charming host has put his best ones on show for the nuptials.  No end of sharp objects, so go grab us a couple.  We’ll just have to keep slashing away at Weisswurst until there’re too many bits for him to get back together -- at least until we can get hold of G and pick his mighty brain for the way to destroy Mr Kiss Kiss bloody Gang Bang.” 

Soon they had a couple of knives each and Spike was also wielding a nifty looking mace on the end of a gleaming chain.  They edged forwards and took up station in a cloakroom opposite the grand ballroom, their door slightly ajar so they could see the comings and goings.  A cacophony of noise drew their notice as the bloodied Ethan Rayne burst through the main entrance with psycho henchmen in tow and screeching hysterically for Weisswurst.  They caught the gist of it, Spike more so because of his super-sensitive hearing.  G.  G had punched him out and scarpered.  Good man!  Now all they needed to know was where he was. 

Spike chuckled into the darkness of the cupboard.  Seemed that the gadgetmeister was such a slippery little customer not one of the minions could find him.  The vampire thought back to when G had first entered the service, way back when Spike was building his reputation as the coolest spy in the business.  G had shown promise as a field agent but had rapidly graduated to the man to know if you wanted a specially adapted weapon or a watch that doubled as a laser cutter.  Still, once trained by Her Majesty’s best, you never lose it… 

“And this is funny…. how?  We’re holed up in a cupboard, Blond, and knives against machine guns?  I don’t think so.  So I ask again…do you have a plan?” 

Spike felt Buffy’s nearness through the link; she was almost at the door.   

The vampire turned his golden eyes on his friend.  “Yeah, Harris.  We go see what the missus wants to do.” 

With perfect dramatic timing, the petite blonde in question threw open the double doors and black-clad wetwork operatives swarmed in, weapons poised for action. Buffy, Osborne and Whedon stood aside as the professional assassins took up post on either side of the ballroom door.  Spike and Harris burst from the cloak cupboard, Spike quick to pick up his wife and hug her to him with his free hand while keeping the mace free and ready to strike.  “Buffy,” he nuzzled her hair.   

“Honey, I’m ho-ome!” Buffy Blond sing-songed before clamping her legs around the lithe torso of her spy husband and crushing his lips with a kiss that promised heated oil and silken scarves once they were back on home soil.  “And I brought some friends, William.  Hope you don’t mind…” 

“Well, it’ll be a stretch, but there’s mayhem enough for everyone.  Any sign of G on your travels?” 

“Why, Blond – did you miss me?”  G brought up the rear, twiddling with yet another gadget of unknown purpose and looking scarily serene.  Whedon and Osborne on the other hand looked like they’d been dragged through a hedge. 

Spike put Buffy down and patted her bottom affectionately as she sashayed away.  “Well, G – I didn’t really want to tell the wife this way but now you mention it…” He grinned and walked towards his longstanding colleague and friend.  “Hug?” 

G raised a very Spike-like eyebrow and rolled his eyes.  “I think not, Blond.   Besides, we’ve work to do.” 

“Foiled again!  Work.  Fine.  Lead on, Macduff.  Just tell me…how precisely do you kill Weisswurst?  I only ask because shot to the head?  Not as effective as you’d expect.” 

“Oh.  Yes.  Quite.  Well – I wasn’t exactly sure that rumour was true.   So he regenerated, did he?” 

Spike and Harris nodded in tandem. 

“Ah.  Well it seems that the only organ susceptible to death is the second kidney.  Only thing is nobody is sure where exactly in the body it resides.” 

“Not the head because KAPOW! – and nada.”  0013 mimed a pistol to his temple. 

“No, obviously not in the head.”  G stopped his fiddling and gave the pair his full attention.  “Wait a minute…you shot him in the head with my – what did you christen it, Blond? – The erm... spermopositer, and he didn’t... well – decompose?” 

Blond and Harris looked shifty.  G didn’t like his gadgets getting into the hands of the enemy. 

“Well, no… actually, I didn’t use the bloody penis gun, G.  Thought a traditional bullet to the noggin would nail the nasty bugger so I grabbed what was near to hand.  Nice job of giving us the down and dirty old bud.” 

“Well, there’s your answer then!  At the right setting, the spermopositor – and I’m trademarking that, Blond – will melt his entire body, second kidney included, and it’s cheerio demon.  So, holster the guns and let’s get cracking!” 

The assassin team were ready and waiting to go, only lacking the proper signal to have all guns blazing.  G eyed the two agents shifting from foot to foot with a sinking feeling in his gut.  “You do still have the weapons…?” 

No reply, no eye contact. 

G sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Where are they?” 

“Weisswurst has them.  Don’t fuss, we’ll get ‘em back.” 

The bloodcurdling screams from the ballroom stopped everybody in their tracks.  The reek of burning flesh seeped beneath the doors, making those nearest to the ballroom gag.  It could only be the spermositers. 

“Right!  Let’s get to it!  There’s no time – it could be W in the firing line.” 

Blond took control of the situation - being the senior agent in both age and experience - and charged forwards through the double doors and skidded to a halt on the bloody floor.  His vampire senses were on overload, feasting on the scent of fear - a banquet of gory delights.  He didn’t usually like to suit up so early in a fight as it lost him the advantage of surprise; but the blood, the sight of the cringing guests as Weisswurst swaggered about with his new toy, and the very real danger that W was in, flicked his switch and he roared into vamp face.  The sound echoed through the room making the entrance of the vampire and his colleagues the focal point of all. 

“Meester Blond!  Again you interrupt me – and so rude.  Vhy do you never do vhat I ask of you?  You zink to save your W from a fate vorse than death.  But see her!  She is happy to see me – aren’t you, mein adorable Weichselstrudel?  She cannot vait for our union.  See how she trembles with desire!” 

W was shivering; her jingling chains providing demented background music to the inevitable showdown.  She looked far from happy, however, her heavy makeup streaked down her face where her tears had tracked, and her knuckles white where she still gripped an ostrich feather fan and a champagne flute.   

It was too much.  Your average vampires weren’t known for their restraint in a crisis and Spike Blond was far from your average vampire.  He leapt – quite literally – into the fray.   

The MI13 agents were hot on his heels, Xander Harris leading them forwards.  The less experienced Osborne and Whedon peeped round the door, limply cradling weapons they were too scared to use, drawing a huff of impatience from Buffy when she sprinted past them.  “Time to grow a pair, you two.  We need all the manpower we can get – if you’re up to it!” 

Whilst the nervous duo would have preferred to make a discreet withdrawal, there was enough backbone there to have them cocking their pistols and preparing to engage.  G pulled out an impressive weapon of mammoth proportions and nodding to the pair of wet-behind-the-ears agents he preceded them into the ballroom. 

Spike Blond was everywhere, making full use of his supernatural speed to disarm lumbering thugs before they could use their assorted weaponry.  He was homing in on Weisswurst who was still gesticulating wildly with both spermositers, the beams of bone-melting energy sizzling any flesh in the their path and reducing the unlucky random victims to primordial sludge.  G couldn’t stop a smug grin from creasing his face as he noted the extreme success of his invention.  Weisswurst changed direction. 

Blond needed a diversion to enable him to seize the demon and turn the guns against him.  Harris was already on it, making for W and the ring of guards around her with a posse of assassins in tow.  They were making headway noisily in an effort to create the maximum impact.   

There…right there the moment arrived.  G bellowed W’s name to add to the mayhem and was gratified to see Weisswurst lower the spermopositors and start to walk towards his bride-to-be.  Blond took the offered opening and karate-chopped Weisswurst’s wrist, deftly catching the dropped weapon and aiming it back at the warty demon’s torso in one graceful manoeuvre.   

“Weisswurst!  Heads up, you stinking heap of putrescence!  I want you to see my joy as you dissolve in agony.  Nobody messes with my people.” 

“Ha!  Empty vords, DumKopf. You forget zat I am invincible; you haf tried to destroy me once and yet I still live.  Do your vurst, zen perhaps I can complete mein nuptials and get to ze rumpy-pumpy!” 

00666 smirked.  “Your wish is my command, Weisswurst.”   

Putrid gobs of spittle hung from Weisswurst’s green teeth as Spike Blond pulled the trigger snarling, “Auf Weidersehen, Pet.” The beam hit his chest and began to singe the folds of flesh, slicing into his body like a hot knife through butter.  Weisswurst fell backwards, the other spermositer dropping from his hand as he realised that invincibility was overrated and today – although not a good day to die – would nonetheless have to do. 

The guards around W were under attack from Harris and his mob and G, Buffy, Whedon and Osborne were hitting out where they could.  The guests were running scared to every corner of the room, high decibel screaming following in their wake.  The highest pitch of all came from the decomposing former master of the ancient mansion in which they stood. 

“AAAAAAARGH!  NEIN!!!  I AM MELTING, I’M MELTING!  STOP ZIS!” 

Blond and the others stifled the urge to follow the yellow brick road whilst humming a jaunty tune.  But the hysterical screams of Weisswurst, aka Mr Kiss Kiss Gang Bang, focused everybody’s attention on the main event.  Blond stood over the rapidly dwindling remains of W’s captor spinning the reclaimed guns in expert hands.  He roared victory; a feral sound that chilled all that heard it.  Demon against demon had battled and the best had won. 

After that, the fighting fizzled out.  Weisswurst’s henchmen were only too happy to surrender now the threat of retribution for their failure was gone, and whilst there were a dozen or so followers of the ‘Great Weisswurst’ weeping and wailing and tearing at their clothes and hair, the majority of the guests were starting to wander away chatting excitedly about the pre-wedding feast and the best fight they’d been to in years. 

G made his way towards W and was about to hand his gun to Harris so that he could help her up, but he spotted Ethan Rayne crawling out from under a table.  G’s eyes narrowed as he focused on his target, steadying himself legs slightly apart and cricking his neck to take aim.  His ridiculously long pistol was steady as a rock as he took sight down its muzzle. BAM BAM BAM shell after shell thudded into Rayne’s jerking body.   

Rayne slid down the wall, clutching his chest and groaning.  “Ripper…oh… bug…ger...” 

With a smile of satisfaction, G blew imaginary smoke from the end of the barrel, twirled the gun and holstered it in his belt.  W wobbled to her feet and took a couple of steps forwards until the golden chain tethering her ankle to the daybed jerked her.  Harris bent to tug at it but was unable to free his boss.   

“Allow me.”  Spike had lost the vamp face as he came over to his colleagues, his voice soft and husky with emotion.  He gripped the chain in both fists and pulled, the links separating easily with his enhanced strength.  W sagged against him, still shivering and she huddled gratefully into the warmth of his tuxedo jacket as it was wrapped around her shoulders.   

Buffy watched as her husband gently lifted the exhausted woman in his arms and spoke softly to her, tenderly cradling her against his chest as he turned to face them.   

“I knew you’d come for me,” W mumbled into his neck, tears streaming down her face. 

“Yeah, well – couldn’t have my baby sister staking me in my sleep, now could I?  And you know that’s just what would happen if I came back without you.  Shhh, shhhhh – it’s all right now.  Everything’s alright.”

 

Spike raised his head, suspiciously wet blue eyes seeking out their hazel twins.  He stilled as Buffy smiled at him, projecting all her love and relief through their bond. 

Yes.  Everything was all right.  Time to go home.   

++++ 

TBC – just the epilogue to come now.  

++++ 

CUT TO:  An overloaded jet crammed full of tired and filthy agents, the only sounds snoring and general sleepy mumblings except for the heated discussion going on in a corner. 

“I said no!  Somebody could see us!” 

“Pffft.  Never stopped you before.  What?  You’re a trembling virgin all of a sudden?” 

“No, it’s just………STOP THAT!” 

A different voice echoes from the huddle of sleepy forms. 

“Yes, Buffy – do please stop that!”

 

MR KISS KISS GANG BANG – Epilogue

 

The crème de la crème of MI13 had departed Weisswurst’s castle with unusual ease. The minions hadn’t even noticed, befuddled by a mixture of despair at their loss and glee that their bondage was over.  Most of them were wandering about aimlessly as if wakened from a dream and Buffy supposed that the demon had used a mixture of drugs and thrall to keep his slaves in line.  She shuddered at the thought as she walked alongside her husband on their way to the jet.  W was still wrapped in Spike’s jacket and cradled in his arms, her head lolling against him where she’d succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep. 

 

The wet squad had run on ahead to ready the jet for takeoff, leaving Buffy, Spike, W, G, Harris and the two dazed agents, Osborne and Whedon, to set their own pace.  G walked in front, casting concerned looks back over his shoulder every few paces.  He felt honour bound to be the one to carry his old friend but conceded that Spike, with his superior strength, should be the one to bear her back to the jet.  He fidgeted with his glasses, pulling them on and off his nose in agitation.

 

“G, there’s no need to hover – I’m not about to drop her now am I?  We agreed.  This is my turn, you can mind her on the jet, there’s a good fellow.  Now eyes front!  You’re making me blush!”

 

W stirred in his arms and croaked out raspy words.  “G…you all came for me…”

 

The gadgetmeister dashed to her side, taking her hand and squeezing it as they continued walking.  “Of course, W, did you doubt us?  Besides, this lot needed a good workout; it’s been rather quiet and they’re in danger of becoming fat and lazy.”

 

Blond snorted.  As if!  He doubted they’d get any time at all to recover before they were reassigned to another mission.  It seemed as if there’d been a resurgence of evildoers lately and reports were coming in hourly of new – and not so new – foes that needed to be taken care of.  Master Bates, for one, had resurfaced along with the infamous Faith Layer and the wicked Kat causing mayhem and murder, and Spike regretted not taking the time to see an end to that beast.  Not an error he’d be repeating.

 

Soon the jet was in sight and it wasn’t long before they’d all crowded inside and settled down where they could.  It was crowded but it felt like home.  Spike cleared a corner for W to curl up in, laying down a wad of coats for a makeshift bed and placing a kit bag beneath her head.  He begged Harris’ tuxedo and covered her gently, stroking back the red hair from her face.  Buffy watched, her heart swelling at this gentle side of her vampire husband that she knew so intimately but hardly anybody else had ever glimpsed.  She wasn’t jealous, well, not much - she couldn’t help a slight twinge – but she understood his feelings.  These people were more than colleagues, they were almost family; and Weisswurst had struck at their very heart by snatching W.  Still, he’d got what he deserved.  She just wished it hadn’t been such a quick death.

 

Buffy looked around for a place for Spike to snuggle besides her.  She’d missed him.  He’d only been gone a couple of hours but when he was on active duty those hours seemed like a lifetime.  She was desperate to get her hands on him, reacquaint herself with the feel of his skin beneath her fingers, the taste of his tongue and the tang of his lips.  She felt the flush of arousal start wending its way across her throat and face, her heart racing in her chest.  She looked back towards him and knew his eyes would be searching for her. 

 

Oh yeah… she knew that burning melting look.  Mouth suddenly dry, she found a secluded space- and began to loosen her clothing.  Mile high club coming up…

 

Spike forced himself to ignore the scents and sounds, the call of his mate, and turned to listen to W as she spoke softly. 

 

“Thank you for everything, Blond.  I mean it.  You didn’t have to do this, I know.  Once an operative goes missing, standing orders are to destroy all links to avoid an infiltration of the service.  I mean, I hoped…”

 

A knowing look passed between them.

 

“Just returning the favour, W.  And besides – Tara ’s really scary when she’s pissed!”

 

“Oh. You know!!  I thought maybe I’d misheard you earlier but no…so…are you really alright about it?”  Her green eyes were huge, her voice wavering as she watched his reaction.  Nobody had even known she was gay and now the brother of her lover, who happened to be a big scary vampire, had the power to crush her.

 

Spike Blond smiled at the woman he’d moved heaven and earth to rescue, a woman who meant so much to him and who’d risked her life and her career to bring him back to the fold a few short months ago. 

 

“I’m more than alright.   I love my sister…and she loves you.  She’s probably waiting for you at HQ.  When you'd gone missing she came charging through the door and Chase put the store on lockdown thinking it was some kind of vamp attack.  Of course…she does have her moments, I should warn you…”

 

They laughed together, easy in each other’s company.  W’s eyes were drooping though, the effort to stay awake too much.

 

“Rest now; there’ll be time enough to catch up.  Good to see you, W.”

 

Spike left her then and smirking in anticipation headed towards the soft arms and urgent kisses of his delectable Buffy. 

 

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

 

“Hey, G-man – we’re about twenty minutes from landing.  Shall we shake up the troops?”

 

“Hmmph…what…oh, Harris.  Pass me my glasses, would you; I seem to have mislaid them.   Ah, thank you.  Yes, yes – I suppose we should.  Leave W though, she needs the rest.”  G struggled to his feet, stretching out the kinks and scanning the jet’s interior.

 

“Where’s Blond?  And Buffy?”

 

“Give you two guesses.” 

 

Harris motioned with his head to the back of the ‘plane where a “Bathroom Occupied” sign could be seen glowing neon red.  “Been occupied virtually the whole flight.  Hell, I had to move away from the door – it’s a pity you missed the soundtrack.  The man has serious stamina!”

 

G blushed.  The vampire’s sex life was the subject of much speculation - and it must be said envy - among the men of the service, and the women still swooned when the suave spy passed their way.  But anybody with half a brain could see that Buffy and Spike Blond were matched in every way possible and neither of them would be looking for other partners.

 

“I suppose they do have to ‘seize the moment’ as it were; in Blond’s line of work he never knows whether he’ll be making it home.  Well, we can afford them a little time before they have to be made decent.” 

 

An orgasmic scream rattled the fuselage, pinking G’s ears and bringing out Xander Harris’ schoolboy smirk.  A number of the dozing soldiers lifted their heads and started out with the ribald comments.  Soon be home.

 

The sound of the landing gear engaging had everybody preparing for touchdown and gathering their belongings.  Buffy and Spike eventually sidled out of the bathroom, Buffy flushed and sweaty and Spike walking with an awkward gait and his hair tousled from its customary slickness.  Sniggers, whistles, and a round of applause greeted them and had Spike acknowledging the attention with a courtly bow and Buffy squealing and hiding behind her husband until she regained her composure.

 

‘Yikes!  Busted…again!  Gotta learn to control myself…but I can’t help it… those fingers touch my skin and it’s hello Slutty Buffy… but I am only human, after all.’  Giving in to temptation was always so fulfilling.  Hell they were married; they could do what they wanted.  Where they wanted. When they wanted…even if they wanted to do it all the time.

 

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

 

After a short debriefing for the tired companions and a thorough check-up for W in the medical bay, they were all released for 24 hours’ recuperation.  W was pronounced fit and well save for a little dehydration and some bruising but she was to be kept in a plush side-room overnight as a precaution.  After a crisply efficient nurse settled her into bed, Buffy and Spike held her hands and spoke to her softly, promising to locate and tell Tara to come see her as soon as they could get away. 

 

G had scurried off to his beloved lab, eager to write up a report on the gratifying efficiency of the spermositers while it was still fresh in his mind; whereas Harris had an assignation with a certain Russian spy to attend to.  Anyanka Jenkinskovitch had been waiting out front in her Porsche as the weary agents trudged in to make their reports for the record.  She was wearing the fur coat that had played such a large part in their couplings to date, and very little else -  flashing a glimpse of bare breast at Xander as she swivelled in the seat of the bright red sports car to blow him a kiss.  Osborne and Whedon almost tripped over each other in their dash to be first at their beloved desks, running their hands reverently over the solid reliable surface and making a pact never, ever , to come out from behind them again. 

 

The Blonds and W jumped at the loud rap on the medical room door.  “Come in.”

 

“Erm…W…there’s a visitor here to see you…I think she’s got clearance, isn’t that right, 00666?”

 

Cordy was shoved to one side, stumbling on her killer-heel shoes as Tara burst into the room and threw herself into W’s arms.  Buffy and Spike stepped back to give her room to check their boss over, because the lovesick vampire wouldn’t be satisfied with what the medics said.  She needed to make sure for herself. 

 

Cordy lingered by the door unable to tear herself away from the juicy gossip material unravelling in front of her.  She started when Buffy’s acidic tones cut across her consciousness.

 

“Miss Chase?  I hope there’s a good reason you’ve abandoned the front desk to intrude on this family time?”

 

Cordelia Chase, queen bitch of her high school, the girl most likely to succeed, according to her yearbook, by walking over her rivals in spike-heeled shoes, nonetheless knew she was outclassed by Buffy Blond née Summerpenny.  With an audible gulp, the brunette turned on her heel and scurried back to the Magic Box and the safety of data and numbers.

 

“Buffy…”

 

“What?”  She turned a dazzling smile on her husband as he looked at her quizzically.  “Oh she deserved it.  And besides, it’s fun taunting her.  Did you see how I made her run?  Me?  Buffy Summerpenny…oh, sorry darling – Buffy Blond.  I’m so baaaaaaaad.”

 

The giggle on her lips turned into a squeal as Spike scooped her up into his arms and kissed her fiercely.  “Want to show me just how bad, Mrs Blond?”

 

“Ahem.”

 

The two broke apart and turned towards W and Tara to see the redhead flushed with embarrassment and Tara giggling, her vampiric hearing letting her in on the matrimonial discussion. 

 

“Time to go, sweetheart?”

 

Buffy nodded at her husband’s question.  “Yeah, I think these two deserve a little alone time, don’t you?  Tara ?  We’ll make sure there’s a car waiting to bring you home.  And W – rest up, and make sure you tell Tara about the Princess Leia outfit!”

 

“Thanks, Buffy, William – but I’m staying here with W.  I won’t be letting her out of my sight again in a hurry.”  W squeezed Tara ’s hand looking at her with green eyes full of love – and suddenly there was nobody else in the room.

 

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

 

Buffy closed the door of their apartment behind her with a sigh of relief.  It had been great to actually take part in a mission on her own merit, but it was even better to be home…with her vampire at this very minute filling the bathtub with scented oils and hot water to soothe her aching muscles. 

 

“Fancy a drink, pet?  Snack maybe?  What do you want to nibble on?”

 

Buffy pounced, in one bound she had Spike gripped a round the waist with her thighs and her lips close to his.  “Mmmm…I was thinking of something a little more… substantial,” she purred.  

 

Steam from the tub was filling the bathroom, moistening skin and making Spike’s dress shirt cling to his chest, outlining his well-muscled torso.  The kiss was violent, bruising, a wild mix of teeth, lips and tongue that fuelled the already sparking embers into blazing passion until Buffy dragged her lips away reluctantly to take in a breath.  Blue eyes burned into her soul and stripped her bare – much as Spike’s hands were now doing with her unwanted clothes.

 

“Hey, Mr Impatient – what happened to my nice relaxing bath?”

 

“Well, you need to get these off first….”

 

Buffy grinned at him and quickly took a step away leaving him clutching empty air.  Just as quickly she rushed him and knocked him backwards so that his legs hit the tub and he fell into the water with a splash, still wearing the now translucent shirt and tight black dress pants. 

 

“Not necessarily…oooh look, yummy nipples”

 

Spike gasped, truly shocked by his wife’s actions.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her.  She was magnificent, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling.  It wasn’t often that he was lost for words but right now he couldn’t think straight.  That ceased to matter when Buffy joined him in the scented water, knocking the faucet off and splashing as she positioned herself between his parted legs.

 

She finished the work he’d started on undoing her blouse, pulling the wet garment off her body and tossing it to the floor.  Her nipples were hard and clearly visible against the sodden lace of her bra, Spike reaching out a hand to cup one firm breast before Buffy pushed him away and undid the fastening.  The bra joined the blouse on the floor. 

 

“Your turn…” Buffy commanded, huskily.  Spike sat up a little, the water surging round his back and lapping at Buffy’s bare torso.  He didn’t bother with niceties, ripping his shirt off as he got to his knees and began slowly licking up Buffy’s stomach and across her breasts to capture droplets of water.  She shivered, his touch as always sending her into spasms of pleasure.  Her arms came up to wrap around his neck, fingers tweaking the moist curls at the nape as they pressed closer to each other; bare chests met and slid seductively with the oils Spike had added to the bathwater.

 

There was no need for words, the two got to their feet, water streaming from them with a tinkling cadence that soothed and excited in equal measure.  Buffy reached for Spike’s fly, Spike did the same at the buttons on her trousers and in sync the fastenings were released, the wet garments pooling in the bottom of the bathtub.  Now naked, Buffy raised her leg and hooked it around Spike’s, pulling him towards her so that his erect cock pressed into her abdomen.  She made a tiny mewling noise in anticipation of the ravaging to come.

 

“Commando, Buffy?” Spike breathed at her neck.  “What’s a nice girl like you doing with no knickers?”

 

Buffy sucked on his bottom lip and nipped at it, drawing blood and inflaming his senses.  She licked at the oozing wound with relish.  “I told you, Mr Blond…I’m bad…”

 

Spike gathered her to him and stepped out of the tub, sleek, wet, and trailing steam as he strode purposefully from the bathroom and into the bedroom.

 

Buffy squeaked as Spike threw her onto the bed, but recovered and eagerly scrambled so that her back rested against the headboard, her legs spread to accommodate the rampant vampire that followed her onto the satin quilt.  Spike grabbed her legs and pulled her down the bed so that she lay beneath him, her hair fanned out on the pillow and her eyes glassy with desire.  The aroma of her arousal was making his head spin; he could hear her heartbeat, feel its thudding as it raced with excitement.  Her blood surged through her veins, honing his senses to almost painful intensity.  He could see the pulsing of her heart and made him desperate to bite her, to release her essence from the confines of her skin and flood his mouth with its glory. 

 

“Yes….”

 

Her voice was whisper soft and he needed no further urging. 

 

The fangs descended, his brow ridged and his senses heightened.  He fought the urge to tear at the flesh of her neck and merely lapped at her skin to settle himself.  Buffy wanted more.

 

“Do it!  You know how much I want to feel you…”

 

He knew what she meant; every time he fed from her and she tasted the tang of his blood on her tongue, their connection intensified and their bond grew stronger.  Whenever they’d been separated and in danger, Buffy craved the renewal of their relationship.  And truth be told, so did he.

 

Sharp fangs sliced into her skin, Buffy arching into his bite and gripping his shoulders to keep him feeding.  This act, the demon overtaking the man, defined their relationship.  She loved all that he was.    Hard and fast, she sank her teeth into the soft flesh of his neck barely drawing blood with her blunt incisors but releasing enough to coat her tongue and draw out a moan from her vampire.

 

Without removing his fangs, Spike nudged her legs further apart and slid his cock fully inside her slick passage.  Foreplay over.

 

Animal growls accompanied his thrusts; the rumble vibrating against Buffy’s skin and adding to the sensory feast Spike was gifting her with.  Every inch of her body tingled with pleasure and once again she thanked whichever deity was listening for the joy that was her life.

 

“Flip,” Spike snarled, ripping his fangs from her flesh; he needed to mark her right now, reassure the demon that this woman belonged to him and would do his bidding in all things.  And besides – Buffy liked it nasty every now and then…

 

Scooting backwards slightly to give her room, Spike looked down at his cock shiny with their combined juices and moaned, biting his lip and sucking it into his mouth.  She drove him crazy with want.  Buffy licked her lips and ran her hands from her thighs and up her body, making sure that Spike saw her fingers dip between her moist folds and followed their path up, up, over her breasts and finally finding sanctuary in her mouth where she licked them clean with her hot, pink tongue.

 

When she knew she had him teetering on the edge of self-control, she flipped over, kneeling with her elbows on the bed and her ass waving in the air.  Her pussy glistened, the curls dark with her juices and the lips pink and plump from her arousal blood.  Spike reached for her, pulling her backwards to sink along his cock, his fingers bruising her hips where he gripped her and bounced her in time to his thrusts. 

 

When Buffy rested her weight on one arm and slid her tiny hand down to tweak at her own clit, taking in a casual stroke of his length on the way, Spike was lost.  Unable to stop the impending flood of his ejaculation, he pushed Buffy down to lay flat and spread her legs wider, pounding her into the mattress and bouncing the bed away from the wall.

 

Buffy whimpered as her climax built, her nerve endings thrumming with electricity.  Almost without warning her pussy clenched hard around Spike’s cock, dragging him over the edge into a bone-melting orgasm that seemed to have no end.  He kept moving in her, slowing now and gentler, when suddenly Buffy was ambushed by another climax from her eager and greedy body. 

 

It took five minutes before they could speak and function.   Buffy’s neck was raw from the bite and aching, but she loved it, and the way it reinforced their connection.  Spike noted her discomfort as she rubbed the twin puncture holes and let his cock slip from her warmth, rolling onto his side and scooping Buffy round her waist to nestle with her back against his chest.  She rubbed her ass against his groin as she snuggled, almost provoking a replay of their lovemaking, but to be honest, both of them were exhausted from the physical and emotional upheaval of the last week.  As Spike lovingly licked at the wound he’d given her as a mark of his love, Buffy drifted off to sleep happy and safe in her husband’s arms. 

 

Spike watched her doze off and only when he was sure she was breathing evenly and sleeping did he close his eyes and allow his guard to drop.

 

Another mission over.  A mission that had called not only on his skills as a spy, but his restraint as a friend and husband.  It had been tough.  But they’d got through it.

 

He just hoped that Buffy had now had enough of being in the field and would go back to operations at HQ.  He didn’t think his restraint would last through another mission in which his wife was potentially in the line of fire.  Even though she’d not been in any immediate danger, the entire time he was dealing with Kiss Kiss and his goons he’d been wondering whether Buffy was alright.  It was distracting.  It could have cost him dearly. 

 

But now she’d got the taste for it, knowing his wife as he did, he doubted that she’d go back to being the little lady behind the desk.  She was more likely to go all out for a double ‘00’ licence herself.  Spike swallowed hard. 

 

He had a feeling things were just about to get extremely interesting.

 

THE END

 

 

 

CUT TO : a shooting gallery, a bank of targets hung up in front of cubicles.  Gunfire comes from one of the cubicles, the aim of the shooter less than perfect.  A bullet zings around the concrete bunker, sparks following it.

 

“Buffy!  Will you please concentrate…that nicked my ear!”

 

“Sorry!  It’s just……I’m being distracted, G….”

 

Platinum blond hair appears from below the counter, Spike Blond wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

 

“Oh for heaven’s sake, 00666 – will you please leave your wife alone during her assessment.”

 

“Just trying to help, old man.  She’s got to be able to shoot straight no matter what’s going on around her.”

 

Girlish giggles as Buffy pushes Spike down below the counter and wriggles, raising the gun with shaky hands.  G ducks as the next bullet ricochets wildly.

 

“Oooops!  Sorry!!!”

 

DOOOO . TE . DOOOOOOOOOOOO; DOOOOOO . TE . DOOOOOOOOOOO.  DOO . TE . DOOO.

 

 

 

Buffy and Spike Blond will return in their next adventure – “Octobuffy”

 

 

Feedback would be appreciated and glomped.  :D