Doubled And Redoubled (Xmas/new years)

[Washington DC, one month later]

The basement gym. An even better friend than her Stair Master, since returning from Paris. It wasn't the Stair Master's fault that using it only made her recall climbing the steps with Spike, kissing Spike as part of her cover, breaking into the unassailable vault with Spike. Fucking Spike in the stronghold of the Russian consulate. Escaping wrapped around Spike, her core still hot and throbbing from him.

But sword katas –those were clean of any memories. At least, any memories that were centered around one Agent 0013, William Spike, of MI5. The bastard. Smooth and strong, sweat streaming down her flanks and soaking her headband, trickling down her spine, she lunged, recovered; cut, thrust, parried. Deceived and glissaded and then thrust home. And again. And again. And again.

Spike watched Buffy a few moments, admiring her grace and strength. He'd missed her. How could you miss someone you didn't know? And yet he had.

Enough to talk to her boss. Enough to strike a deal him ... time alone with Buffy, to explain Taiwan. Enough to risk something he wasn't used to... rejection.

He was in fencing gear, but didn't bother with a face guard. Working solo, she didn’t have one, either. Soundless, he stepped in front of her touching his sword to hers to gain her attention. Their gazes clashed, and he was more than ready when she used the sword.

"Is this any way to greet an old friend," he asked, blocking and parrying, keeping his guard up because she had a weapon, and knew bloody well how to use it.

"You are not not a friend," she snarled, enraged to see him in her sanctuary, invading the one place she’d been able to find some almost-peace since Paris, and gave a fierce and flashy paired x-slash over his head followed up with a thrust at his package.

"Mind the jewels... I know how much you love them, being a woman and all," he parried, and gracefully moved behind her, their swords clashing as she followed. "And you are, after all, a woman and not a man." His tone was heavy with double and triple meanings.

"Always have been," she said, slashing at the back of his knee in a vicious cut as she faced off with him again. "No surprises there, Willy," she hissed.

He concentrated on fighting off her attack, then answered. "On the contrary. Big surprise there. Billy," he snarled the last as she drove him into defensive mode yet again.

The sound of steel clashing against steel rang out. They circled the room, went back and forth in a dance that would have been deadly if both them weren't so skilled. "Listen to me... dammit... put it down and listen."

"Sod off," she snarled, in a perfect mimicry of his usual accent before returning to her own, outraged tones. "What kind of professional doesn't study his partner's dossier before going into the field, you lying sack of shit?" She spun behind him, using his bent knee as a launching pad for her own soaring attack, flipping above him and reverse- slashing at his head upside down with complete disregard for safety or the courteous rules of fencing she should have been honoring.

Naturally, he ducked. She landed and came at him again, furious.

"You expect me to believe you thought I was really a man? Save it for someone stupid," she hissed, thrusts and deceptions coming so quickly that he was hard pressed, staggering back and off-balance.

That was a deception, too, except it was his, and not hers. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he enveloped her blade in a shining, singing double-circle glissade of steel, taking control of the momentum and sending it flying one way just as she went the other, her wrist stinging from the desarmament, and landed hard on the mats, breath knocked from her body.

Not even able to wheeze, nonetheless she writhed to one side like a snake, rolling from stomach to back and ready to kip up and take him apart with her bare hands, but no matter her skill, he was still better at the direct sort of confrontation that a mission might require, while she was a sneaker and a thief. Better, and faster.

He landed on top of her, strong legs forcing hers out to the side where she could get no leverage, and his hands clamped around her wrists. A quick, desperate twist got one hand free of him, but it wasn’t enough.

"You will let me have my say." He roughly knocked her wrist back onto the ground and stared into her angry eyes with equal fury.

"I was pulled into Tawain at the last moment. Your abbreviated dossier said nothing about your sex. All I knew was you looked like a man... you even bloody well felt like a man," he pressed his knee into her groin where she'd had a prosthetic. "I didn't understand why I... why I wanted you. How I could want you... do you see?" He could tell she didn't see, didn't want to see. "I thought you were a man and that I was going mad. I told someone I never wanted to work with you again. Wasn't a report... nothing official. It was just a stupid comment because I was scared... scared of this... of wanting this from a man named Billy."

When he pressed his knee to her, the shock of desire went straight through her like a bolt of fire. She had to end this, had to stop it now. Before the joke of control and detachment she'd managed over the years spilled from her current anger into shameful begging, weak forgiveness. Understanding for the man who'd ruined her career, set her back five years, sent her to a different country entirely to rebuild... everything.

“Whatever,” she said, voice flat to hide the pain. All a stupid mistake. And too late now, by five years. Too little, too late. “You’ve had your say. Now get off of me.”

Cold. She could be so cold, and yet he knew the fire that ran through her veins. It made him angry, sent his blood pounding into his temples.

Lowering his head, he brought his mouth down hard over her mouth. She could throw him out, ask him to leave... but sod it all, he wasn't going to let her pretend this meant nothing... that she felt nothing.

Though she moved her face back and forth, he followed, lips clamped over hers, pushing, pressing his tongue against her teeth, demanding entry. With every movement of his body against her, every tightening grip of his fingers around her wrists, every breath he took, he coaxed and prodded and sought a way to master her, to make her his.

Struggling was getting her nowhere; he was determined, hungry and angry. And even though she refused to acknowledge it, to admit how weak he made her, how needy and starved and just plain desperate for his touch, Buffy could feel her resolve slipping away as her desire flared, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist, to open herself to him, mouth, body, mind. Heart.

She wavered. Trembled. Melted.

She opened for him, and he didn't waste a second. With every stroke of his tongue, at first he fucked her, and then, when she stopped resisting completely, he slowed down and made love to her mouth. Slow, long, memorable strokes. He memorized her taste, her feel. Memorized all those feelings she'd evoked from the first day he'd met her, man ... woman... it didn't matter, she twisted him up from the inside, and no amount of thinking could resolve the mystery of why it was so. If a month hadn't done it, he had no reason to think a life time would.

He broke the kiss, and stared down at her. "Now I've had my say." Rolling off her, he got up. He'd been on the edge... could have gone too far. It drove him crazy that she could do this to him, make him lose control.

She gave herself to the kiss, feeling everything she'd tried so hard and so long to quash welling up in her like blood from a mortal wound, staining everything she was with this man, this moment, this truth.

She loved him.

And then... then, he rolled away. Said something, something final sounding. An end. Another goddamned end. Stunned, she stayed where he had pressed her to the floor, only moving enough to cover her face with one trembling hand, shutting her eyes against the tears that welled, trapping the sobs that wanted out from deep inside her throat. Even speaking, cursing him, would cost her too much. Give away too much. Let him see just how he'd ruined, not her career, but her, this time.

The ground seemed to fall away from under him. He'd wanted to break through, wanted to force her to show him a part of herself, to show him her feelings. But neither 0013, the world-savvy agent, nor William Spike, the man, had foreseen this.

He dropped back down on the ground and pulled her... Buffy Summers, the woman he had fallen in love with while he wasn't looking, into his arms. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry luv, shouldn't have done that. Keep hurting you, and don't know why. Don't know why," he said, crushing her to him, and knowing what he really wanted to do was keep her safe... from him... from the world... from anything that threatened to bring tears to her eyes ever again.

Shocked witless at the sudden change, when she'd thought he was leaving again and taking the tattered rags of her self with him, Buffy curled into Spike's arms and shook against his chest, clinging tightly, ragged words muffled below his hearing at first.

He rocked back and forth and was still apologizing when her heard her whispers. "What... what is it? Please don't cry anymore... you win. Whatever you want, yeah?"

"If this," she repeated, one hand wiping away tears like a child, "is how you hurt people accidentally, I hope you never put your mind to it." She looked up at him, eyes wet and the corners of her mouth just barely turning up. "I'll kill you. And that's a promise."

"Do you want me to go then?" The only reason he was unsure was the smile. He'd forced her down, forced her to listen... forced a kiss from her lips, and made her cry. But why was she smiling? He put his hand on her cheek, and kissed her mouth ever so lightly, tasting the salt of her tears. "Tell me what you want. Tell me, and I'll do it."

"You're smart. You figure it out," she told him, and took his mouth with her own, gently but inexorably, sweetly but with a searing heat behind it as her lips caressed his, as her tongue licked softly along his bottom lip, and then teased its way inside his mouth, tempting and tangling, exploring and seducing. Kissing him as she never had before, not only willingly, but with love instead of mere lust.

God. She wasn't angry. She wasn't cold to him anymore. Her kisses told him that and more, dragging him deeper and deeper with each touch of their lips. "You want..." Silence reigned while they kissed. "To have your way with me. And marry me. And have my ... mmm..." More kissing ensued. "... my children. Six of them. Three to follow me into MI5, three in the C... I.... A...."

Buffy laughed, clear and bright. "Try behind door number two, smart guy," she teased, hands roaming to his back and up under the tight fencing gear, caressing the sleek muscle there with a hunger too long denied.

He arched into her, sucking his breath in as her warm hand touched his skin. "You want a hot global affair, that will keep the tongues of both agencies wagging for years. There will be meetings in hashish dens in the middle east, kinky bars in Berlin, and sex... lots of it... in every uncomfortable two seated sports car known to man."

He traced her shape, kissing her neck and jaw, feeling her pulse kick up under his touch.

"Closer," she whispered, offering him her throat as her body hummed with pleasure, "but still no –ummmmm—“ she purred as her fingers drifted lower, "cigar."

He jerked up when she touched his... cigar. "Bet you're glad you missed it with the sword," he managed, gritting his teeth as she fumbled to free him. "Don't think a cigarette butt would be quite what you're looking for..."

Giving up on the fencing gear for a moment, she pressed her palm against the hard eager shape beneath his tight white pants, and breathed into his ear, "You have one door left," before taking his earlobe into her mouth and licking along the edge.

He groaned and closed his eyes as his cock came alive under her hand. "A bed. You and me naked. No phones or telly. Just hours and hours to do what we want..." That was what he really wanted. But there went her hand, rubbing him just so, making him hot and horny like only she could. "... or we could just fuck here," he said, his resolve weakening.

"I'm liking this hours and hours idea," she said contemplatively, "if you think you can make it to a bed. A big, private, bed behind a locking door with sound proofed walls?"

"Didn't your boss' office have a sofa bed." He groaned, missing her the instant he pulled away. As he helped her up, his jutting cock was clearly visible through the tight pants. "No... that was a joke, I don't want to be on camera, and I counted at least six in his office."

Pulling her up against him, he gave her another hard kiss to hold him for a while. "It so happens, I've got reservations at a bed and breakfast in Maryland. It's a bit of a drive, no soundproofing but... we've got the whole place to ourselves. Made sure of it in case..."

"No," she said firmly, twisting her hips against his rampant erection. "I’m not waiting that long to have you the way I've wanted to for five. damned. years. Follow me," she told him, turning away with a sway of her rear and a come-hither look over one shoulder.

His gaze immediately dropped to her white-clad ass and thighs, shown off to advantage in the tight fencing outfit. "Not waiting... also good," he said, following her wherever it was she was taking him. Unfortunately, he wanted her so bad that the walk through the building was torture. He'd see a desk and imagine himself bending her over it, a chair... and think of her sitting in his lap... even the bloody Xerox machine was giving him evil thoughts.

"Here we are," she said, pushing open a door that read "Janitor" and entering what appeared to be a supply closet, pulling the door shut behind him. When the outer door was closed, she did something clever under a shelf with her fingers, and a door to the side opened, leading into an inner hallway and another door, ordinary looking as any door to any upscale apartment in any secured residential high rise. "Home Sweet Home away from home," she quipped, leading him inside.

"Thought for a minute you were going to have your way with me in the closet," he said, with an approving nod at the apartment. "This come with a bed? First things first, yeah?"

"Yeah," she echoed, and had him up against the wall, hungry hands roaming his entire body while hungry mouth fastened on to his with all of the desperate need of their previous encounters, softened by an openness that was all new, tonight.

Every muscle in his body tightened and clenched under her touch as one wild kiss led to another, and another. He ran his hands up and down the length of her body, lingering on her curves and in those places that made her shudder or mewl. And every one of the sounds she made intensified his desire.

They switched positions, again and again... him pressing her against the wall, her pressing him... knocking furniture out of the way as they made their way toward the bedroom. Fighting to get closer, fighting to lead... to follow... God, he needed her!

Once they were in the bedroom, he released her but walked her backwards toward the bed as he undid the double row of buttons of her uniform (vest? what do you call it?), and then reached down and caught the metal zipper. "Can't wait to see you on an actual bed... with pillows..." he muttered, tugging it down and biting his lip when her pants started to fall off her hips.

"I've been wanting to see you too," she told him forthrightly, surprised to find herself flushing faintly from an attack of... shyness? Ridiculous! But this mattered. Mattered intensely. Her hands made quick work of his buttons, thief's fingers dancing dexterously along them and shoving his vest away from his shoulders.

"You mean in the actual... light," he grinned, staring unabashadly at her. "You're sexy as hell." Unable to keep his hands off her for an instant longer, he splayed his fingers across her stomach, then slid his hands to her slender waist. So petite... and yet she was so resilient and had so much strength. "Don't suppose you've got a mirror over the bed, so we can look at the same time... I know this place in Hollywood..."

"I'll just fucking bet you do," she grinned wickedly. "'Been all 'round the world and laid all kinds of girls'," she quoted from an old pop song, arching into his touch and biting at the underside of his jaw again, teeth sharp and white in the bright light. "But you're mine now."

His laugh came out as a rumble deep inside his chest, but her proclamation coupled with the love bite had him wanting to do anything but laugh. "All yours, Agent Summers... now what are you going to do with me?" he asked, slowly dragging her pants down the length of her legs, and helping her step out of them.

"Show you exactly what that means," she growled against his throat, hands slipping his pants away like magic, and curling around his cock with a possessive caress, just before she went to her knees and slid her mouth around him, taking in his whole thick hard length in one smooth, wet motion.

He sucked his breath in and leaned back. "You're showing me all right... like weapons of mass destruction, do you, Agent Summers?" Fuck... so much wasted time in that dingy cell in Taiwan... they could have been doing this!

He threaded his flingers through her hair, occasionally pulling her close when he needed more pressure. The way she sucked him, the way her mouth worked him, he was mindlessly thrusting into her mouth in no time. "Good... so good..." Throwing his head back again, he tried to remember to breathe.

Buffy's fingers dug into Spike's thighs, his rear, caressing and fondling, clutching him to her as she devoured his heat, rolling his balls in her hand with all the dexterity of her profession as government sanctioned master-thief, and then running one delicate, cool finger along the fragile line of flesh between them and the base of his cock, stripping any illusion of control from him.

She was merciless, and single minded, playing him like a fine instrument, taking him to places he'd never been... and that was some feat. Sounds broke from the back of his throat... sounds he'd never heard... was he begging? "Please... oh God... please..." Yes, that qualified as begging.

She rolled her eyes up to look at him, but didn't pause. If anything, she took him deeper, tongue and throat working around him as though she were starving and he were the only possible food, but one eyebrow arched questioningly, granting him the choice of giving in now... or of taking over.

He was torn... so torn, and it was her bloody fault... that mouth, those hands, the things her fingers were doing to him. Thrusting one last time, he groaned and pulled her up. "I'd like nothing better if we did this again... later. But now... want you on the bed, I want to be inside you," he growled, lowering her onto the bed.

He followed, putting on knee on the bed, then then next and moving between her legs. The lights were still on, and he had an eagle's eye view, and didn't waste it. His heated gaze trailed over every inch of her, and had a noticeable effect on his erection... now thickening even more.

Her knees swayed, opening wide in invitation and causing him to surge once more. Fuck... Gripping her thighs, he pulled her down toward him, then lifted both of her legs up over his shoulders. There... his swollen member was against her heat, slick and wet from being in her mouth, and now sliding tantalizingly against her opening.

A moan of desperation tore from her throat, twin to all the ones she had stifled in the vault, raw and needy and utterly vulnerable. "God, Spike... yessss." Her hands fisted in the coverlet, unable to reach him, and she arched her hips against his cock, feeling her own wet heat mingling with the slickness from her mouth and his own pre-cum; she whimpered with desire.

Lifting her higher, he bore down, entering her fast and hard... groaning as she closed around him so hot and tight. Liquid heat inched through his system as he started to pump, his gaze locked with hers, for the first time seeing her face when they made love, noticing how her pupils dilated, how she arched her neck and bit her lip. He loved it... loved the entire package that was Buffy Summers. She had it all ... looks... brains... skills... balls (he could say it now without wincing)... and Lord when they touched... it was an explosion of desire and lust and need.

He wanted her... wanted to be so deep inside her, wanted to stay there... she was his, he decided at that moment, thrusting deeper and deeper, struggling to get closer. She was made for him, had to be... there was no other explanation for this... for how she rocked his world.

Buffy arched and flexed against him, beneath him, her small internal muscles clasping him so tightly she thought she might scream with pleasure every time he plunged back into her, weep every time he withdrew; her whole world and everything she wanted in it narrowed to a crystalline focus on Spike, William Spike, Agent 0013, the sum total of everything she'd ever wanted in a man, a mate... a partner. "God, God," she panted raggedly, feeling the sweet burn of an approaching orgasm in every nerve, along every inch of her skin. "Spike, kiss me, Spike— please—"

That was all she needed to say. The night they'd had sex... pure sex in the vault, was still fresh in his mind. She'd rejected his kisses then, and it had cut him deeper than he'd thought. He hadn't dwelled on it then... he'd waited until those times he had a nice drink in his hand... and then he remembered how her mouth had escaped him, over and over.

His body vibrated with need, his cock pulsed inside her, and yet he fought the need to fuck her senseless. She wanted to be kissed, he would kiss her, and love her... and make it last....

She clasped his face between her two hands and fell upward into the kiss, his kiss, perfect and passionate and possessive all three, even as stars exploded behind her eyes and her body shuddered into a place beyond bliss.

She'd come, and he was still hard... so hard... he felt her fingers dig into him, encourage him to go on. And he did, because he had no other choice. He buried himself in her, again and again, driving into her, his breaths coming out ragged and harsh as he got closer. "Buffy... oh God... so good," he lifted himself up and plunged inside again, crying out as her muscles tightened around him and gave him the friction he needed.

Overwhelmed, she flung back her head and screamed out her second release, every part of her trembling beneath him, and her shaking hands coaxed him back to her mouth again, savoring the press of his lips against hers, the tangle of their tongues, the thrusting of his body and his mouth into her. A moan clawed at the back of her throat, and it came out as a breathy, yearning word: "Mine—"

God... that one word pushed him over the edge. "Oh yeah," he agreed, thrusting sharply as he rode his release, his mouth never leaving hers as he came and came... exploding... shattering into a thousand pieces before collapsing over her. He took a deep breath. "Did I give you a..."

"Mmmm," she smiled up at him, eyes gone smoky as jade with satisfaction as aftershocks rippled through her, nearly enough to send her over the edge again just from the feel of him still inside her. "Oh, yeah." She ran her fingers into his hair, and gave him the sweetest kiss possible.

Somehow he managed to smirk, and kiss at the same time, then rolled them both over so she was splayed on top of him. He was still inside her and had no intention of changing things. "Who knows, with a bit of coaxing... you might give me one." His blue eyes blazed with heat in response to her disbelief. "Agent Summers, give me three minutes and then...." His hands were already exploring her ass, and back.

She purred above him, and pressed kisses into his throat, along his jaw, and finally, practically delirious, to his mouth again. "I'll give you two," she whispered. "I hear that Agent 0013 always gets his man."

THE END

(A/N: I hope you all had a spuffy... erm spiffy... holiday season ::grins:: I think Vikingprincess and I will continue this tradition of writing a holiday spuffy every year. Do let us know how you liked it/watcha think. Thanks, and happy New Year to all!)