S.M.U.T. Bunnies by Chris Cook

Rating: NC-17
Uber Setting: James Bond, sort of.
Disclaimer: Based on characters from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and all manner of things including the James Bond series by Ian Fleming/Eon Productions, and The Avengers by Brian Clemens. All original material (I'm sure there's some in there somewhere) is copyright 2005 Chris Cook.
Distribution: Through the Looking Glass http://alia.customer.netspace.net.au/glass.htm
The Mystic Muse http://mysticmuse.net
Feedback: Hell yeah!
Author's Notes: Thanks to Tarawhipped (Cameron) - author of Secrets and Spies, The Legend of Green Eyed Red and Island of Death – for coming up with the 'Smut Bunny Anthem' (to the tune of 'Goldfinger'), and not stating the completely obvious when I suggested the notion of Smut Bunnies as secret agents – that being that I'm a crazy fool with lunatic ideas. And also to WickedReds and Wimpy, self-proclaimed Smut Bunnies – I'm sure, without Reds' use of the Anthem as a sig constantly fulfilling the role of the little devil on my shoulder saying "Go on, do it," the rational part of me would have pointed out that this is insane.
If you haven't figured it out by now, this story is going to be silly. Hopefully, though, it'll be entertaining as well.
Pairing: Willow/Tara

Summary: Secret agents. Supervillains. Adventure. Excitement. Smut. Lots of smut. And saving the world, too.

Agent Hot Tamale's Hacienda Fortress, Mexico
Guest Quarters, Living Room
2150 Hours

Willow finished typing up her report, sent it on its way across the Ministry Smut-Net to London for analysis, and closed her laptop to look thoughtfully across the table at Tara, still typing on her own laptop, and frequently stopping to frown thoughtfully at the screen. She felt Willow's eyes on her and glanced up, offering a quick smile.

"I type fast," Willow explained. "I was kind of born with a laptop and modem already attached."

"I bet your mother enjoyed that," Tara noted, earning a giggle. "I'll be done in a few minutes, I'm just adding whatever notes I can think of, about Cordelia today. Whatever might be useful."

"No problemo," Willow smiled. She stood and came around the table, reaching out to gently rub the back of Tara's neck.

"I, ah, just don't want to give you the wrong idea, and then disappoint you when we get there," she explained. "I'm not really feeling up to…today was hard, and I'm still trying to deal with it, so, what we would normally be getting up to, sharing a bath…" she gave Willow an apologetic smile. "I hate to be clichéd, but I'm kind of not in the mood, for that…"

"Not a problem," Willow assured her. "Not in any way, shape or form a problem, I promise a relaxing, non-smutty bathing experience, and good times all around."

"No, don't be," Willow replied quickly, crouching down to be at eye level with her. "Look, I won't deny the thought of me, you, naughtiness of the adults-only variety, it's more than just a pleasant way to pass the time, but…I want to be what you need, and if you need me to just hold you, cuddles and nothing more – even if you need your own space, and no me in the picture for a while – well then, that's what I want. I want to do what makes you happy, because, what makes you happy makes me happy, and it's handy how that works, I think. It's definitely a good thing, all with the goodness…"

Tara's smile widened as Willow spoke, and eventually she reached for Willow's hand, which had moved to rest on her shoulder, and brought it to her lips, silencing Willow with a soft kiss.

"There's never no you in the picture," she promised. Willow grinned and bit her lip.

"Well, then, I…you know what?" Willow said, then leaned forward and gave Tara a quick kiss on her lips, simple and loving. "I'll go get that bath going, and you come on in whenever you want."

Agent Hot Tamale's Hacienda Fortress, Mexico
Guest Quarters, Bathroom
2200 Hours

"Hey sweetie?" Tara asked, swinging the door closed behind her. She looked around when she heard an answering "Hey" from one side, and saw Willow perched on the edge of the marble vanity, with a cupboard open and various bottles of lotion and scented soaps strewn around. She was wearing a towel wrapped around her chest, which extended down just far enough to decently cover her – though if her legs, hanging off the edge of the counter, hadn't been crossed, it would have been a precarious distinction.

"Just checkin' out the selection," she said. "What do you think, pink bottle or purple bottle?" She held up two lotions.

"Pfft!" Willow protested. "Who chooses bath lotions that way? Oh, I know – both! Pink and purple – pinkle. Or purk. Punk? That's not right…"

"Gimme those," Tara laughed, taking the bottles from Willow. "Hmm…there's no A- Branch marking, so they probably won't explode if we mix them up."

"Oh well that's a good thing," Willow nodded. Tara glanced down at the lack of towel covering her upper chest, where her breasts, constrained slightly as they were by the material wrapped around just above her nipples, were lifted and displayed slightly.

"You're sure you're not trying to seduce me?" she asked, making sure her smile was wide enough that Willow wouldn't take her teasing too seriously.

"I promise no matter what, there is no chance you'll end up with a disappointed Willow tonight," Willow replied. "As if you ever could, anyway. But just because we're not going further than cuddles doesn't mean the scenery can't be nice, right?"

"Very nice," Tara nodded, as Willow slipped off the counter and walked over to the full, steaming bath to mix the lotions in, giving Tara the opportunity to admire her legs and rear as she bent over.

"Mmm," Tara said, half to herself. She slowly undid the sash of the dressing gown she had donned after finishing up her report, and slipped it from her shoulders, letting it slide slowly down her back.

"Lemme get that for you," Willow offered, taking the gown and hanging it on a hook on the wall. She returned to Tara and hugged her side-on, resting her head on her shoulder.

"You're so soft," she whispered dreamily, gently rubbing her cheek across Tara's skin. Tara smiled and kissed the top of her head, then worked her hand around to Willow's back and undid the loose knotted corners holding her towel in place. Willow stepped back a fraction to allow the towel to fall to the tiled floor, then moved back in, sharing a contented sigh with Tara as their bodies pressed together.

"Me neither," Willow agreed. "Oh, I know – c'mon, together." She and Tara both giggled as they crossed the short distance to the bath, still hugging, and stepped into the steaming water, supporting each other to keep their balance.

"You like the water hot," Tara noted, sinking down to kneel with the water lapping at her stomach.

"Yup," Willow said cheerfully, moving behind her and reaching for a washcloth and the soap, "hot, steamy, and full of Tara. Here," she offered, moving a waterproof cushion onto the side and nudging Tara to lean forward on it, "relax…there's plenty of room. Actually you know, my ideal bath would have one more element added."

"What's that?" Tara asked, crossing her arms over the cushion and resting her head sideways.

"Well…" Willow admitted, a smile and a blush waging a quick struggle for dominance on her face, "…I kind of have this thing for pink bubble bath…"

"You do?" Tara asked. "I like bubble bath…that's definitely going on our to-do list."

"Yay," Willow smiled, gently placing her hands on Tara's hips, one on either side. "Now, you just let me take care of everything…just relax…"

"Mmmm," Tara agreed, as Willow's hands traveled slowly up her sides, gently maneuvering her body so that she lay sidelong in the expansive bath, stretched out from her folded arms on the edge, with the water covering her breasts and reaching most of the way up her back, and Willow straddling her thighs. Willow paid great attention to washing her back, stroking her hands back and forth, spreading steamy water over her smooth skin before applying the soap and working up a lather that made her hands slide easily from the back of her neck right down to her waist.

Tara's eyes remained closed and she breathed slowly, concentrating her full attention on Willow's hands as they moved back and forth, up and down, sliding sensuously across her skin. Tara marveled at how, even though Willow's fingers frequently reached far enough around the sides of her body to brush against her breasts, and her palms often dipped far enough to cover the top of her ass, there was nothing sexual about her caresses – just love and care, given freely, and bestowed on Tara's smooth form in the knowledge that her touch was welcome, anywhere. The experience caused a bloom of pleasure within Tara's chest that was not arousal but satisfaction, almost like the aftermath of a strong climax – languid bliss, utter contentment, and no desire to do anything at all but lie right here amid a mist of joy that warmed and kissed her skin as the steam rose from the water around her.

Tara felt Willow's hands move to her shoulders and gently urge her up, and she let herself be rolled over without protest, or even opening her eyes. For a moment, though, she reached up and caught Willow's hand, squeezing gently, then she did as Willow silently bade, lying back, soaking, calm.

Willow took her leg and lifted it slowly out of the water, running her palms up and down from ankle to thigh and back again. Tara opened her eyes to see Willow rest her cheek against her gleaming calf as her hands moved down to her foot and began to wash it, careful not to tickle. Willow moved her cheek slightly, nuzzling Tara's skin in a subtle echo of the motions of her fingers moving around her foot and between her toes. Tara pursed her lips happily as Willow worked the soap smoothly into her skin, rhythmically massaging as she went.

She eventually lowered Tara's foot back into the water and repeated the process with her other, down to resting her cheek against Tara's calf as she held her leg up. When that was done she moved around to kneel between Tara's feet and, lifting both her legs, scooted forward so that Tara's knees rested over her thighs, affording her easy access as she worked up a good lather in her hands and applied it in long, slow strokes to Tara's legs, from her ankles all the way up to her thighs.

"Is this okay?" she asked quietly, breaking the almost meditative silence that had settled over them. Tara realized her hands had come to a halt on her inner thighs, half- way along above her knees. She nodded slightly and eased her legs open a fraction more.

She closed her eyes again, leaning her head back, and heard Willow's deep breath as she moved forward. Her hands warmed their way up Tara's thighs, and gently moved to her folds, pressing slightly, feeling the soft flesh give beneath her fingers. She avoided nothing, cupping her fingers first around Tara's mound, then to the edges of her labia, then gently parting them to stroke feather-soft among her yielding inner lips, and even between them to caress a fingertip around her entrance. She moved up, fingertips still parting Tara, and brushed over her clit, squeezing just slightly, acknowledging the tiny heartthrob bundle within its hood.

'Ohhhhh my gooooood,' Tara thought, as Willow repeated the gentle motion, from without to within, then up again. 'She can do this…she can touch me like this, and it soothes…it heals. How can she touch me there, and it still be simply tenderness? God…'

"Hmm?" Willow paused. Tara smiled at herself, and gave her voice over to her feelings.

Willow's hands resumed their bathing, and Tara could feel her answer spreading from her fingers. After some time she moved on, around Tara's hips to her ass, moving herself up so that her thighs rested beneath Tara's, supporting her half-floating to give her free access. Her hands were firmer now, but no less tender as she bathed Tara's cheeks, and between them, delicately circling her tight orifice.

Soon she made her way to Tara's stomach, her palms circling and caressing in slow patterns, and Tara couldn't help letting out a giggle as Willow's thumb dipped into her belly button and wiggled. Willow giggled with her, then her hands were rising, cupping Tara's breasts from beneath. She shifted again, moving as far forward as she could between Tara's legs, her abdomen flat against her sex.

"I like that," Tara murmured, as Willow slowly covered her breasts with her hands and massaged the soap into the soft, pliant flesh. "Being so close together…"

"Feels good," Willow agreed. She devoted herself to bathing Tara's breasts, making no secret of the pleasure she felt at touching them. Tara never considered objecting – she knew Willow would never ask for a pleasure she wasn't ready to give. There was no building momentum, no climax on the horizon to overshadow the gentle caresses Willow was bestowing on her – it was simply sharing for its own sake, not just sharing of bodies and pleasure, but sharing grief and sorrow if need be. Tara felt the burden on her heart lifting, bit by bit, as Willow cleaned away the day's hurt.

After a while Willow moved on, washing Tara's arms, working down to her hands, where she paid special attention to each finger one at a time, kissing each fingertip as she finished. Tara gave a contented murmur as Willow lay down beside her, cuddled up against her in the steamy water, and very gently began to wash her face, applying just enough water to be warm but not hot, caressing on a layer of soap and smoothly rinsing it away again, covering her chin, her cheeks, her forehead, her ears, and ending in a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose once she was done.

"Can I return the favor?" Tara offered. Willow chuckled and stretched, their bodies sliding easily against one another.

"You don't even need to ask," she nodded, laying back as Tara sat up beside her and took the soap from her unresisting hand.

"Oh man," Harmony yawned, "I hate trans-Atlantic flying." She and Cordelia were following Daniel through a corridor, in the approved supervillainous stainless steel, towards a control room up ahead.

"It took three and a half hours, Harm," Cordelia pointed out. "From LA, too – that's practically meteoric. Faster than even the Ministry's best supersonic transports can manage, too. Besides," she added in an undertone," it takes you longer than that to decide what to wear in the morning."

"It's a very important decision!" Harmony protested. "It can't be rushed – I mean, look at this place, if I'd worn white here I'd be so clashing with the décor."

"You don't have anything in white, Harmony," Cordelia snapped. "You got rid of everything in your wardrobe that wasn't black when you decided you wanted to be a supervillain."

"I know that Harm, I can see through your top same as everyone else. It's not a gender-specific term."

"'Villain' is an acceptable gender-neutral appellation. There's no reason to go around defining yourself by your gender, it's been shown in studies that women are just as capable of hijacking nuclear weapons and holding the world to ransom as men."

Harmony's face lit up as she looked ahead, to see Daniel giving her a faint smile before turning to descend into the control room. The balcony the corridor emerged on angled into a ramp, running half-way around the circular chamber and offering a comprehensive view of its cavernous size, and the matrix of huge steel support beams holding the great dome in place, like a massive metal spiderweb. Various computer stations, fitted with the regulation blinking lights, lined the perimeter of the steel cavern, but its centre was open, dominated by a large circular table, finished in brushed metal, with appropriately futuristic chairs around it.

"Okay, not bad," Cordelia admitted, nodding to Daniel. "I retract my prior statement – letting Harmony design the C&C may not have been the stupidest idea in all of history."

"Thank you," Harmony said, with what might have passed for good grace in poor light.

"That said," Cordelia continued quietly to Daniel as she caught him up on the ramp, "I give it two minutes before she does something dumb again."

"She's the most familiar with the Panacea program," Daniel said defensively. "It's natural she should oversee this support facility."

"So you like it?" Harmony said, skipping up just as they reached the floor and headed for the conference table. "You've got all your computer access whatsies all in the one place, access to the underground garage over there…there's inlaid controls in the master chair – red button's the chair-dropper and flamethrower arrangement, blue for the video screens for boastful exposition of your plans-"

"…green for summoning minions – I laid in some extra minions for the barracks level up above, with custom uniforms, which were kind of pricey, but I was sure you wouldn't want your minions outfitted off the rack." She shuddered at the thought.

"Where's the Panacea matrix?" Daniel asked, inspecting the control panel on the arm of his chair.

"Under the table," Harmony said proudly. "Anytime you want to bring it out and gloat, just push the yellow button and the whole thing folds open and it rises up out of the floor, it's really cool. Oh, the black button is for the deadly animal pit, I had the engineers make sure the spy-lowering device in that works extra slow. Uh, the hatch is over there," she added, pointing at a nondescript patch of floor, "so don't stand there, 'cause, you know, deadly animals…"

Daniel prodded the button experimentally, which produced a set of solid steel manacles lowering slowly from the ceiling above a pit which slid open in the floor, nowhere near where Harmony had indicated.

"Oh!" she pouted. "Oh, my bad – the circuit breakers are over there, that's the deadly animal pit. Okay, best we found that out before we had to use it."

"You think?" Cordelia asked. She joined Daniel at the edge of the pit, peering in. The pit was thirty feet deep, twenty of them filled with water, including various submerged hatches covered by metal grates.

"The habitat's at the other end of the tunnels," Harmony explained. "This is just, you know, the spy-killing part of it."

"So, what…?" Daniel prompted. Harmony leaned over to push a button on the chair, and the grates swung open. After a moment's expectant silence, a squat, furry creature swam out and began to circle around the pit.

"I can see it's a platypus," Daniel replied. "I want to know what it's doing in my underground lair."

"Well I was as surprised as you are," Harmony began, "but I was talking with the guy at the evil pet store last week when I was finishing setting this place up, and it turns out that platypussies-"

"-have these little spines just behind their back legs, and there's like toxin or something in them, and it's actually enough to kill a dog, so I figured, well, it'd at least cause blinding pain in a human, or something."

"And electric eels are, like, impossible to get," Harmony carried on, "and there's been some kind of ban on using piranhas since some guy with a laser satellite accidentally made his spy-killing pool too shallow and a bunch got stepped on by mistake, and this was all they had…but look at her, isn't she just precious?"

"I know what you're going to say," Harmony began knowingly, "but I really think we should be giving opportunities to the less-used evil animals – I mean, god, could sharks have any more publicity? That's totally like leather pants, they've been done already, time to move on."

"Well…" she said hesitantly, "I did get a cheap deal on a head-mounted laser…Only it's not waterproofed yet, the guys at the store said it'd be ready in maybe two weeks?"

"And look at her!" Harmony went on. "She wants to help out so much – can't you just, like, feel the villainy radiating off her?"

Cordelia gazed down at the platypus, which had stopped circling and was drifting lazily around.

"I named her Platypussy Galore," Harmony said proudly. Cordelia nodded and turned from the pool.

"I don't know, throw her in the platypus tank or something," Cordelia shrugged. "Maybe it'll put a ladder in her stocking or something equally horrific. I'm going to check the facility's defenses, just in case all the sentry cannons are fitted with nerf guns or something."

Willow looked up from her laptop as the room's wall-mounted screen came on, showing a call waiting. She glanced over her shoulder at Tara, still sleeping contentedly in the queen-sized bed, pulled her dressing gown around herself, and moved into the kitchenette to take the call there.

"Hot Tamale here," said the agent on the other end when Willow put the call through.

"New files from the London office," Agent Hot Tamale said. "They're being downloaded to your laptop now. And your Mr. McDonald has been singing like a canary, we've put together quite a profile on Osbourne's operations with his help."

"He's a lightweight," she said dismissively. "It only took a couple of hours. London's had analysts work on the transcripts, the results are all there for you. They say be ready to go in five hours, Kitten One is on the way to take you to Europe. I've deployed the airstrip – which incidentally has covered up the pool," she added in annoyance.

She returned to the apartment's main room just in time to see Tara stirring from her sleep, and her laptop beeping softly as a list of new files appeared, marked 'urgent'.

"Good morning," Willow said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Tara blinked in the light, then snuck a hand out from beneath the covers to stroke her thigh.

"Oh, sorry," Willow said, covering Tara's hand with her own. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't sure," Willow nodded. "I liked watching you sleep, anyway. They've sent new files from the McDonald interrogation. There's no hurry, our ride won't be here for five hours. They're sending Kitten One."

"Wow, they're not wasting any time," Tara said, sitting up. She noticed, with a grin, Willow's eyes roving over her body as the sheets fell to her waist.

"Yeah," Willow agreed. "By tonight we'll be in Europe – somewhere, I haven't checked the destination…yet…" She trailed off as Tara executed a classic stretch-and- yawn, arms out above and behind her head, back arched, breasts fully on display.

"Take your time," Willow offered. "I had a shower earlier. I'll get dressed and go over the files."

"If I'm not fully dressed, how are you going to un-dress me?" Willow asked innocently.

"Oh, yes," Tara nodded thoughtfully. "That's a…definitely a point to bear in mind." She grinned and leaned over to give Willow a kiss. "Back soon," she added as she slid off the bed. Willow gazed unashamedly at her retreating form, then, once the bathroom door was closed, glanced towards the walk-in wardrobe and grinned.

"Is that breakfast I smell?" Tara asked, poking her head through the ajar door. Willow looked up from her laptop and nodded.

"There's toast, cheese, croissants, various jams, scrambled eggs – take your pick," she said, gesturing to the plates arrayed on the table. "I tried pancakes, but they came out kind of funny-shaped…"

"I like funny shapes," Tara said, emerging from the bathroom with a towel wrapped not very thoroughly around herself. "Croissants sound good…Willow?"

"Yup?" Willow grinned. Tara, having rounded the table and gotten a good look at Willow, laughed happily.

"What's this?" she giggled, waving a hand at Willow's attire – sneakers, blue overalls over a light grey long-sleeved top, even a Scooby Doo watch. Her hair hung straighter than usual, making it seem a touch longer, trailing silkily over her shoulders and around her collar.

"You remember I mentioned the me of my school years?" Willow smiled. "Miss conservative who liked exercising her imagination reading naughty stories? I thought you might like to meet her. From what the wardrobe's disguise section had on offer, this is pretty close to Willow Rosenberg, circa high school."

Tara smiled widely as she took in Willow from head to toe and back again, shaking her head in amusement.

"Adorable," Tara corrected her. "Absolutely adorable, you're…my god, you're so cute! I just want to hug you forever!"

"I ain't stoppin' ya," Willow noted. Tara took half a step towards her, then paused, her smile turning thoughtful.

"I've got a better idea," she said, turning to scoop a croissant onto a plate. "I just have to get something ready. Stay here, I'll be back before you know it."

"Um…okay," Willow shrugged, watching in confusion as Tara took her plate and headed for the wardrobe.

Willow was still typing away happily, a half-eaten slice of toast and jam on her plate, when she heard the voice from behind her.

Willow spun around, not exactly startled by Tara's voice, but wondering at the oddly authoritarian tone. Tara was walking slowly towards her, her hair done up in a severe bun, wearing slim glasses, discreet yet eye-catching makeup, a very businesslike-looking suit with a jacket opened just enough to give a tantalizing hint of the tight silk blouse beneath, and a matching short skirt that showed off her legs, clad in dark stockings, to great effect.

Before Willow could respond Tara spoke again, accentuating the slightly British undertones in her usual American accent.

"I'm your teacher, Miss Maclay," she said. Willow opened her mouth to voice a question, then caught on and nodded, fighting a quick, intense battle with herself not to grin like a cat that had just caught a full-sized pterodactyl. Tara produced a notebook from behind her back and glanced at it.

"You're approaching your final exams," she said, all business, "and I see you're receiving top marks in all subjects…except one?"

"Miss?" Willow asked meekly. Tara flashed a quick grin at her, then resumed her role.

"Sex Ed," she said. "We can't have you graduating with only a B- now, can we? Your other teachers tell me you're a very diligent student, so I'm sure you'd like straight A- plusses across your courses."

"Yes Miss," Willow nodded. Tara smiled politely and sat on the edge of the table, just beside Willow's laptop.

"I think I know how we can improve your grades in this area," she said, her voice dropping slightly, becoming more personal, and a touch more sensual. "Learning such an…intimate subject purely from textbooks can be counter-productive. I think you could benefit from a more hands-on teaching style. Don't you agree?"

"I-I'd like to try, Miss," Willow nodded again. Tara's teacherlike manner was bringing back her memories of high school, and she found it easy to mimic her own nervous, eager mannerisms from back then.

"That's what I like to hear," Tara smiled, sitting a little further back on the table edge, so that her thighs and knees rose into Willow's field of view.

"Now, just so I can tailor your 'lesson'," she added with a friendly, subtly sensuous grin, "are you attracted to boys, girls, or both?"

"Girls, Miss," Willow replied promptly. 'Okay, so I'm not technically staying in character for my teenaged self,' she admitted silently. 'But who knows? If I'd ever had a teacher this hot, maybe I would have figured myself out a lot sooner.'

"I see," Tara said inscrutably. "Now before we get into more…thorough detail, I want to throw a key question at you. In terms of arousal…" She leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee, capturing Willow's gaze in her own. "…what's the most influential part of you?" Willow assumed her 'thinking frown'.

"Perfect answer," Tara nodded. She glanced towards the couch across the room. "Would you prefer we sit over there? It seems a bit stilted to be talking about these kinds of things at an uncomfortable old school desk."

"Um, yes Miss," Willow agreed. She turned as she got to her feet, and felt Tara's hand rest softly in the small of her back for just a moment as they walked together to the couch and sat down, Tara positioning herself almost close enough for their legs to touch, but not quite. Willow sat with her hands on her knees, the image of the attentive student, while Tara's hands rested in her lap, idly holding her notebook.

"Speaking of imagination," she resumed, "If it's alright with you…how about you give me an example of something you've thought about that's made you become aroused?"

"Uh, an example, Miss?" Willow asked, feigning the wide-eyed nervousness she always used to feel whenever she wasn't sure she knew the right answer right away, even though a scenario was beginning to form in her mind.

"It's alright," Tara assured her. "Anything you tell me will be just between us. And there's nothing wrong with fantasizing, you know. It's quite healthy, and most people do it all the time. I certainly do," she added, with a reassuring smile, and just a hint in her eyes that the object of her fantasies was sitting right next to her. Willow returned the smile automatically, and nodded.

"Suppose we start slow," Tara went on. "Have you ever fantasized about a specific person?"

Willow met her steady gaze for a moment, looked down at her hands, then glanced sidelong at her again and nodded.

"You," Willow blurted. 'Yep, classic Willow,' she grinned inwardly. 'Ninety percent clamming up like a…clam, ten percent embarrassing revelations.' When she judged she had spent enough time fidgeting nervously, she glanced back up at Tara to see her smile. 'At least I know this 'encounter' isn't going to end in frustration,' she thought, giving a grin to match Tara's.

"Really?" Tara said after a moment. "Have you…ever thought of what it would be like, if I were to touch you?"

'Okay,' Willow thought quickly, 'going with classic school-Willow, this would be where I chicken out and make a lame excuse to leave, and regret it for the next few months…Let's change the script there, just a little.'

"And did you enjoy those thoughts?" Tara asked, and her voice was low and steady, not so much a whisper as a purr. Willow bit her lip and nodded.

"I'm flattered," Tara went on. "You know, there's an opportunity here…I think I know a way I can teach you what you need to know, and make it an experience we'll both enjoy. You know it's easier to learn if you're enjoying yourself?"

"Good," Tara smiled. "Let's begin, then – we'll review the more relevant anatomy first. Studying this kind of thing from a textbook can be so dry don't you think? I think we can improve on that method."

Tara moved her hand from her lap, and Willow watched as it neared her. She inhaled quickly, a shallow breath, as Tara's fingers brushed against her neck.

"What's this?" Tara asked. Willow swallowed to moisten her suddenly-dry mouth. 'Guess all the moisture's moved south.'

"And if, as you've imagined, I'm touching you here, intimately…what might I do here?" Tara moved her fingertips slowly back and forth, in time with Willow's breathing, as if she was stroking the air in and out of Willow's lungs.

"We don't have a textbook to check the answers," Tara said softly. "But perhaps, we can see for ourselves…if you'd like?" Willow took a breath, held it a moment, and nodded. Tara leant close to her, opened her lips, and delicately placed them against Willow's neck. Willow closed her eyes and let out a little whimper of delight as Tara pressed harder and began to suck, while the tip of her tongue played back and forth as her fingertips had done.

"Mmm," Willow murmured quietly, "uh…yeah…ah, yes…" Tara leaned back, allowing just a little distance between her lips and Willow's moist skin.

"Let's move on, shall we?" Tara smiled. "We've still got a lot of our lesson to cover." She slowly undid one of the shoulder straps on Willow's overalls and, watching her face all the while, slid her hand inside to cup her breast.

"Mmmm," Willow sighed at the back of her throat, as Tara held her and gently squeezed.

"Breast, Miss," Willow whispered, instinctively arching her back to press herself into Tara's palm. Tara nodded and slid her hand down over Willow's breast, so that her thumb grazed the bump where her nipple was poking against the fabric of her shirt and bra. Willow jolted and gasped.

"Has anyone ever touched you like this?" Tara asked softly. Willow hesitated, then shook her head.

"Good," Tara grinned. "There's some important physical reactions we should study here…it's a little difficult to take proper note of them, though, when we can't…see for ourselves."

Willow feigned an astonished glance, then let her expression fade into nervous excitement at the thought. Tara withdrew her hand and slowly undid the other clasp holding Willow's overalls up, sliding them gradually down around her waist. Willow's top beneath it proved to be a size too small, offering an enticing glimpse of skin where it didn't quite reach down far enough to cover the bottom of her stomach, and Tara made sure to brush her fingertips against it in passing.

Tara noted Willow's show of hesitant excitement as she touched her skin, and sat back for a moment.

"Uh…uh, no. No!" Willow insisted vehemently. "No, nuh-uh, all part of the learning experience…just, you know…" she trailed off, with a bashful smile perfectly pitched to tickle Tara's amusement, as well as other parts of her.

"I know," she nodded understandingly, half-concealing her delight, "it's not easy to relax when you're…exposed," her voice dropped half a sexy octave as she said the word. "Perhaps it might help if you weren't the only one?" She smiled reassuringly at Willow's surprised glance. "Well, then we'd both be in the same boat? Neither of us would be feeling more open than the other, so…"

"Um, yeah," Willow nodded. "I, ah, I get it, yeah. Yeah…" she repeated, as Tara undid the buttons on her jacket and let it fall open, revealing the full extent of her blouse's tight, figure-hugging slightly-transparent unsuitability for teaching. Her hands found the bottom of her shirt and fiddled with its hem while Tara unbuttoned her blouse and peeled it off herself. Beneath she wore a satiny black bra, which was cut in just the right way that its simplicity made it maddeningly seductive.

Tara glanced at Willow as she in turn pulled her top up over her head and dropped it behind herself. She had to suppress a giggle at the cotton bra she wore, plain white with little flowers adorning its edges – the very picture of innocence, or at least it would have been, had it not been styled so as to reveal rather a lot of Willow's modest yet firm cleavage, and made from fabric so thin as to leave very little to the imagination. She looked back at Tara with demure nervousness, and amusement sparkling in her eyes nonetheless.

"Well," Tara said, "I imagine I look a little silly, with just a skirt and no top…so…" She flashed Willow a smile as she stood, undid the zip at the side of her skirt, and slid it down her legs, along the way revealing matching black satin panties, and the tops of her dark stockings, clinging tightly to her thighs.

"You-you're…very…beautiful, Miss," Willow said tentatively, raking her eyes up and down Tara's form.

"Thank you Willow," she smiled, ducking her head in acknowledgement, every bit the polite, proper teacher in spite of her considerably improper state of dress.

"Should I…?" Willow asked, putting a hand on the overalls around her waist. Tara glanced down, then shook her head.

"No hurry," she said. "We'll get to that, in time. Now, where were we…?" She put her hand on Willow's shoulder and slid it slowly down to her breast, tracing the edge of her bra.

"Let's review," she said, "breast…nipple…this?" she asked, stroking the darker halo around Willow's nipple, just visible through the thin cotton.

"And suppose you were aroused," Tara went on, "as I see…you are…" Willow couldn't help a moan as Tara gripped her more firmly, while moving closer on the cough so that she could reach around Willow's back and take her other breast into her hand as well.

"Um," Willow temporized, to gain time for her brain to start working again. Tara waited patiently, rhythmically squeezing and stroking her breasts, both hands moving in perfect time.

"Indeed," Tara nodded. "Let's take a look, shall we?" She leaned down, and Willow giggled softly as she felt her lips on her back. Her mouth moved over the clasp of her bra, Willow felt her tongue work, and then her bra was undone, held in place loosely over her shoulders, and by Tara's hands still cupping her breasts.

'That's a neat trick,' she grinned inwardly, doing her best to keep from slipping out of character by displaying her amusement too obviously.

"Now," Tara went on, allowing the bra to slide out from beneath her grip inch by inch, "we see…ah, there you go," she smiled as she lowered her hands, bringing Willow's nipples into view. "Quite firm…it's always more rewarding to see results like this first-hand, isn't it? Rather than just reading them from a boring old textbook."

"Ah, yes Miss," Willow moaned quietly, as Tara's fingers lightly stroked her nipples.

"Mmm," Tara agreed, "and so much more memorable…I'm sure you won't forget this come exam time, will you?"

"Well now, we've achieved arousal through squeezing the breasts," Tara noted. "So tell me, what other methods might yield the same results?"

"Um, stroking," Willow replied, as Tara began to do just that. "Squeezing…ooh…squeezing the nipples…o-or stroking them, too…or even pinching?"

"Mmm-hmm," Tara murmured. "No reason not to, if your partner enjoys it…do you, Willow?" she asked, taking her nipples between each thumb and forefinger and applying a steadily increasing pressure.

"There's also the possibility of oral stimulation," Tara purred into her ear. "Kissing and licking the breasts…kissing the nipples…licking, and sucking…nibbling…even biting, if you're careful…it can be very exciting, you know…"

"Oh god," Willow moaned. She began to squirm as Tara pressed harder, but then suddenly released her. Her left hand remained on her breasts, caressing soothingly from one to the other, while the other, reaching around her, slid down her stomach.

"We don't want to spend too much time on just nipples," she explained as her fingertips reached the bundled-up overalls around her waist. "There's a lot more to get through in our curriculum, after all. May I?"

"Yes Miss," Willow said – probably a bit too eagerly, for nervous teenaged Willow, but Tara didn't seem inclined to point this out, as she spread her legs and lifted her hips slightly, offering herself into Tara's care.

"Thank you Willow," she said, sliding her fingers beneath the heavy, loose material, feeling the thin cotton underneath.

"Let's keep reviewing our anatomy," she murmured. Her hand stilled beneath Willow's waist. "Here?"

"Um…Venus, Miss," Willow replied. "Roman goddess of love…Aphrodite to the Greeks…" 'Sitting on the couch next to me, it seems,' she added in the privacy of her thoughts.

"Mmm-hmm," Tara confirmed, stroking her fingertips across Willow's cotton-clad skin. "It's quite satisfying to lick, and can be sexually sensitive, in some women. But moving on," she grinned at Willow's quiet moan, and reached further between her legs, feeling the heat and moisture of her sex as she cupped her mound.

"Vulva," Willow whispered, trying not to start grinding herself into Tara's hand.

"It's a good word, isn't it?" Tara went on. "Derived from the Latin word for 'womb'…although now, it refers to this here, the external genitalia…funny how words change over time, isn't it? No doubt because it's such a fitting name…vulva," she whispered into Willow's ear, shifting slightly to sit half behind her. "Sounds luxurious, like velvet…but deeper, somehow…the sound of it hints at what's inside…and similar to 'lover', too…vulva…" She rolled the word around her tongue, squeezing Willow gently as she did so.

"Yes Miss," Willow managed in a hushed breath, not sure whether she was agreeing with her monologue or her ministrations.

"Very fitting," Tara continued, "as lovers enjoy giving pleasure to each other, and there's so much pleasure to be given here…" She pulled her hand back a little, so that her forefinger could find Willow's clit through the fabric, then all of a sudden began rocking her hand from side to side, rolling her fingertip quickly back and forth over her clit.

Her back arched, her hips bucked, her whole body straining under Tara's unrelenting stimulation of her clit. Tara held her firmly with her free hand, as the one busy between her thighs stayed in place, shuddering back and forth.

"UhhhUhhhUhhhUhhhUhhh-" Willow moaned, one long exclamation voicing her rapidly rising pleasure, until she seemed on the verge of peaking, and Tara's hand stilled.

"Sudden changes of pace can be very effective," Tara noted, smiling broadly. "Remember that, it may be worth bonus marks in the exam."

"But we don't want to finish just yet," Tara said. "Not when we have more material to study…" She lithely slid behind Willow, stretching out her legs on either side of her. Her hands went to Willow's waist, gathering the bunched-up overalls, while her thumbs slid beneath the waist of her panties.

"So eager to learn," Tara smiled. "You're a joy to teach, Willow." Willow beamed with pride as Tara slid her overalls down, panties too, to just above her knees, where she left them and returned her hands to her waist.

"Now that we can see what we're doing," she said with a chuckle, "we jumped ahead a bit there…just to stimulate your learning. What do we call this?" Her fingertip moved down to rest at the top of Willow's sex, touching very gently.

"Very sensitive," Tara nodded. "Typically protected beneath the clitoral hood, but during times of arousal…such as now…some swelling occurs, causing the clitoris to become exposed. Her size varies, naturally, and for some women the clitoris may be partially exposed at all times. Of course, you have to be careful here, too much stimulation at the wrong time could be very uncomfortable for your partner. But at the right time, as we've just seen…the feelings can be incredible…can't they?"

"It can be stimulated manually, as we've just seen," Tara continued, "or orally…just like your nipples, licking, sucking, even nibbling…or in fact, physical contact with practically anything, any toys you may be using, or any part of your body, or your lover's body, can be very pleasurable."

"Think of that next time you see Samantha the witch wiggle her nose," Tara smiled. Willow giggled, at which Tara nuzzled her neck from behind.

"Willow, are you trying to distract me, to avoid your lesson?" she asked, her voice openly cheeky.

"Well then we'll proceed," Tara replied, with more than a little satisfaction. "We'll leave the clitoris for the moment – don't worry," she added at Willow's protesting whimper, "I'm sure she won't be lonely for long, but we have other things to learn. And we do want to be thorough, don't we?"

"Yes Miss," Willow said without hesitation. Tara nodded and moved her hand forward a little, stroking her index finger and middle finger down either side of Willow's slick pussy.

"Outer labia, Miss," Willow replied promptly, sighing and spreading her thighs wider. "Or labia majora."

"Mmm-hmm," Tara nodded. She delicately parted Willow's lips and stroked her sensitive inner folds. "And?"

"Yesss," Tara whispered in her ear, tickling her with her breath. "Protected by the outer lips, very soft, very sensitive…very intimate. And within…would you open yourself for me, Willow?"

Willow smiled and snuck a hand in beneath Tara's, sliding her fingers between her lips and gently spreading them.

"Thank you," Tara murmured. "And now…?" She extended her forefinger and placed it delicately at Willow's entrance.

"V-vaginal opening, Miss," Willow whispered. Tara returned her free hand to Willow's chest and began slowly massaging her breasts, squeezing her nipples lightly in the gaps between her fingers.

"Yes Miss," Willow said at once, adding in a serious tone: "w-we can't leave anything out. There might be a question on it in the exam."

"Yes," Tara laughed, "you're quite right. Well then…The vagina can be a source of tremendous pleasure, and most women – not all, but most – enjoy penetration a great deal. You're also very flexible, very elastic…the sensations of something pressing against the inside of the opening can be very erotic, as, in some cases, can be the sensation of being stretched wider than is normally the case. Of course, one should start slowly – comfort is of the utmost importance. So…"

She slid her fingertip into Willow, meeting little resistance from her soaked passage, until Willow suddenly clenched her muscles hard, overcoming Tara's gentle pressure and immobilizing her finger.

"Ah," Tara nodded, placing a little kiss on the side of Willow's neck. "Of course, the traditional symbol of virginity – though it's a delicate barrier, and can be broken by strenuous exercise, horse-riding being the typical example." She grinned at Willow's tiny shudder. "Conversely, with the various options available for external stimulation, the presence of the hymen does not, in itself, indicate a woman is not sexually active and fulfilled." She stirred her fingertip inside Willow. "Nevertheless, the historic, symbolic importance of the hymen runs deep, and there's no reason to dismiss it."

"If you wish, breaking the hymen can symbolize your love for your partner. Giving him, or in your case her, a gift…allowing her into a part of yourself that is as yet untouched. It becomes an extension of the act of penetration, that first time, and can be pleasurable as a result, even though there is a degree of pain associated with it. In your mind, allowing and trusting to your partner this…vulnerability…can magnify your feelings enormously. Making love is, after all, far from purely physical."

"So it follows," Tara murmured, "if that's how you want to regard it, that this is something you should only do with someone you love…someone you want to give yourself to…someone you feel safe with…someone you can be vulnerable to…and someone who feels the same for you, who will accept your gift of yourself and cherish you…who will never fear to be as vulnerable to you as you are making yourself for her, because she loves you, and trusts you."

"Certainly, Willow," Tara purred. At the same time her hand squeezed Willow's left breast firmly, pressing in on either side of her nipple with her fingers, her thumb found her clit and rubbed firmly against it, and she extended her finger straight and with a single, steady thrust, buried the digit inside Willow.

"Oh god!" Willow exclaimed, jolting convulsively. Tara held her hands still, letting Willow set the pace, smiling as her hips rolled and thrust by themselves, her pussy squeezing and relaxing, rising and then surging down, making love.

"How do you feel, Willow?" she asked, resuming her firm caressing of her breasts, and stroking her thumb and remaining fingers here and there among Willow's folds, just clear of her clit for the time being.

"You're inside me, Miss," Willow whispered, her head tilting back to rest on Tara's shoulder.

"Do you like it?" Tara asked, rather rhetorically in light of how Willow was moving.

"No," she replied, "there was a little pain, but it didn't hurt me at all. Miss, can you…" she added tentatively, "can I take more?"

"That's up to you," Tara said, wasting no time in adding a second finger to Willow's grasping pussy. Her body, evidently with no intention of playing along with Willow's virginity game, accepted the thrust easily and reveled in it.

"There's one more point of interest…we should cover…in our lesson," Tara explained. She shifted her fingers slightly and pressed into Willow's inner walls, bending them so that her fingertips remained in place throughout Willow's gyrations.

"G-spot!" she moaned, her hands reaching back to grab Tara's back and hold her to herself tightly.

"It…" Willow gasped, "it…god…makes…me…COME!" She let her head again fall back onto Tara's shoulder and screamed with pleasure as her body convulsed, holding Tara within her as her core pulsed and gushed a bounty of thick nectar over her fingers and hand. Tara moaned too, nuzzling her neck, kneading her breasts, moving her thumb to Willow's clit to draw from her another howl of joy, and another climax that crushed her fingers and bathed them in juices as Willow literally lifted off the couch, arching upwards in blind need to express the sensations bursting within her. She stayed there a moment, feet splayed on the ground, hands gripping Tara's waist behind her, the back of her head pressed into the crook of Tara's shoulder, and her body glistening with a sheen of sweat, muscles tightly bunched, held aloft in wanton pride. Then she collapsed back into Tara's embrace, breathing in great gasps as her body heaved and slowed, and Tara's hands became more and more gentle, finally stroking her with caresses as gentle as a feather, cupped over her breast and still sunk within her core, while Willow mumbled pleasurable nothings into her ear.

"You know what?" Tara said, as Willow began to gather her senses. "I think you're going to pass your exam with flying colors."

"I don't think there's any chance of that," Tara laughed. Her laughter subsided to a grin as she gazed at Willow. "Thank you," she said softly.

"What for?" Willow asked. "I mean, besides the obvious – 'cause in that case, the phrase 'the pleasure was mine' has never been better used." Tara chuckled.

"For letting me be in charge," she explained. "It felt good…I think, after yesterday, I needed it, just to remind myself. Actually, it felt great," she corrected herself with a grin.

"You know the key to learning is consistent study," Willow said seriously. "I think it'd be downright irresponsible of me, as a student, not to ask for regular classes with Miss Maclay. Any time she wants."

"That's very commendable," Tara nodded. She kissed Willow's neck, then let her lips part and licked from her shoulder up to beneath her ear. "In that case…do you suppose Miss Maclay's favorite student would like to demonstrate some of what she's just learned?"

Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, heading east
Kitten One: Hypersonic Ministry Transport Aircraft
2130 Hours (GMT)

"Briefing incoming," the pilot of the super-jet announced over the cabin radio. Willow and Tara separated from each other's embrace and returned their seats to the upright position, just in time for the luxury passenger cabin's wall screen to activate.

"I'm sorry we didn't have time to brief you earlier," the Ministry commander continued. "We've had reports coming in from all the agents we could tap on this case, and we thought it best to get you girls en route while we compiled our information. We believe we're up against the clock on this one."

An image of Mr. McDonald appeared in a picture-in-picture to M's side, and was quickly replaced by a series of corporate hierarchy diagrams.

"Your captive has given us a break," M explained. "The support McDonald lent to Osbourne's operation was primarily in setting up smokescreen companies to conceal the extent of Mr. Osbourne's activities outside the purview of his own corporation. We've been able to dismantle some key camouflage on the corporate landscape and discern a lot more about what he's been up to."

The rolling diagrams of McDonald's companies vanished, replaced by a series of orbital photos of various landmarks: Versailles, the Coliseum, the Brandenburg Gate, the Millennium Dome, and others.

M continued her briefing: "Osbourne Industries has had remote public dealings with Centennial Construction, a specialist consultancy group involved in a lot of major construction and restoration projects in Europe. There's hardly a major landmark on the continent, new and old, that Centennial hasn't either worked on, or constructed new facilities to compliment. To the public eye, Osbourne's interest is merely diversifying his portfolio and reaping the returns of investment in a profitable firm."

"He is," M nodded. "Our new information suggests that Osbourne has been using Centennial's construction activities as a front to build infrastructure for his Panacea project. We've sent missions into several facilities already, and found data analysis complexes, computer centers and transmission control networks built into at least ten sites spread over six countries. Practically every major European data network, short of the Smut-Net itself, has been fatally compromised – in the event of a release of the Panacea virus, all defensive measures would be futile. There was even a rebroadcaster buried in a refurbished section of Buckingham Palace, and I suspect we're going to catch hell from the Queen when she hears about that in the morning briefing."

"We've got our best agents on the job," M replied, "but so far we're not confident that we can box Osbourne's virus in, in the event that he releases it. There are prototype versions of Panacea acting as watchdog programs in every site we've discovered – they make it impossible to trace the locations of other sites, we're lucky to be able to retrieve any data at all. It's a radically advanced program. That's why we're bringing you back to Europe."

"I'll be joining the hacking team?" Willow asked, her voice losing some of its enthusiasm. Tara discreetly took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Fred asked for you, but no," M shook her head. "We're keeping you two together. At present, our analysts still believe that our best course of action is to disrupt Osbourne's project, and prevent the release of the virus. Until we can find out how he plans to release it, we can't build a countermeasure strategy we're sure will work. You know Osbourne – it's essential that you continue to engage him directly." Willow nodded, and stroked her thumb over the back of Tara's hand.

"That's another reason we don't want you two working separately," M said. "Agent Queen Bunny is likely the most dangerous element of Osbourne's operation – not only for her abilities as an agent, but because the mere fact that she's working for him means our files on her are somehow woefully inaccurate. You know her better than any other field agent we have – you have the best chance of working out what her stake in this is, and finding a way to use that against Osbourne. And," she paused, and continued so somberly, "if worst comes to worst, you're intimately familiar with her fighting skills. If she needs to be taken down, no-one has a better chance."

"Understood," she replied. M and the other images vanished, replaced by an aerial image of a soaring road bridge.

"This is the Millau bridge," M's voice continued. "Centennial was involved in the logistics effort during construction. We have strong evidence to suggest that their activities on the site were far greater than publicly revealed, and we've devoted considerable effort to uncovering any scrap of information about this location. We believe there is a command and control facility beneath the town of Millau, put there during construction of the bridge's foundations and maintenance sites. It's likely to be heavily guarded. Our information points to a coolant conduit as your best means of ingress – it's disguised as part of a ventilation system that was installed a year earlier by another of Osbourne's shell companies in a clinic on the outskirts of the town."

The screen changed to a computer-generated image of a conduit leading from wireframe-rendered buildings on the surface down to a sketchy map of an underground complex.

"If we're right about the purpose of this conduit," M explained, "it'll be full of highly toxic coolant fluid. You'll have to be very careful not to cause a breach when you enter, so as not to endanger anyone on the surface. You'll find sealed wetsuits in Kitten One's storage compartments, they'll protect you for exactly one hour – longer than that, and our tests indicate a chance of a suit breach, which would be dangerous, if not fatal."

"So we'll be swimming through a very long, narrow tunnel filled with poisonous liquid?" Willow summed up.

"Just another day at the office," M nodded, reappearing. "One more thing: Osbourne's private transports are fitted with some kind of stealth technology we haven't yet been able to crack, but from what we've pulled together from secondary sources, we believe he, Queen Bunny, and this personal assistant of his, Harmony, flew to Europe a short time after you escaped them in California. Our analysts give a 60% chance of them being at the Millau facility." Willow and Tara nodded soberly.

"We've prepared an infiltration plan for the hospital, and technical briefings on the coolant conduit you'll be accessing," M continued. "But feel free to improvise however you see fit – you're the agents on the ground out there. Any equipment not already on board Kitten One can be shipped to your landing zone, the Ministry's full resources are at your disposal. Good luck, Bunnies."

There was a moment's contemplative silence, then, as one, the two agents reached for each other's hands and held them tightly.

"Pfft, I know that," Willow replied. Tara ducked her head in a bashful grin, then looked back up, into Willow's smile.

"…I'll be there for you," Willow finished. Tara nodded, with unshed tears in her eyes.

Willow, clad in very proper-looking doctor's attire, breezed past the receptionist in the clinic and spoke directly to the duty nurse. Tara sat patiently in the waiting area, enjoying the soft, light feel of the woolen pants and crop top her role called for, and watching Willow air her flawless French with confidence, explaining to the nurse that she and her patient had been delayed several hours due to horrendous traffic, but would nevertheless, in spite of the lateness of the hour, go through a routine check-up that had been scheduled for the afternoon, which she, Willow, was perfectly qualified to perform without requiring any assistance. Tara watched Willow flourish her credentials, and direct the nurse's attention to her appointment in the clinic's schedule database, both of which the Ministry had provided for them. The nurse gave an accepting shrug, and she and Willow fell into a brief, friendly discussion.

The door to the examination suites opened, and a doctor emerged, chatting with her patient and her partner as she handed her key card to the receptionist and checked out for the night. The patient, an elegant brunette who was just beginning to show signs of her pregnancy, caught Tara's eye in passing, glanced at her stomach, and gave a warm smile. Tara returned the gesture, patting her eight-months-pregnant belly contentedly as Willow returned to her.

"All good," the redhead whispered as she helped Tara to her feet and guided her towards the examination suites. "We've got the right room, and we won't be disturbed. You'll be getting a full check-up, so we've got plenty of time."

"Doctor knows best," Tara murmured in reply. Out of sight of the receptionist and the nurse, her hand on the small of Tara's back dropped momentarily to her bottom and gave a quick squeeze.

"Is that really proper doctor-patient behavior?" Tara asked with an arch smile as the door closed behind them.

"Just testing your reflexes," Willow grinned. "Salle deux, here we are." She held open the door to the examination suite for Tara.

"Hey, you're pregnant," Willow quipped. "Anything to help." She secured the door behind them and glanced around the room, which was clean, modern, and arranged around a padded chair with stirrups. Her eyes drifted to Tara, as the blonde leaned against the chair.

"You're sexy when you're expecting," Willow said, waggling an eyebrow for emphasis.

"I didn't say that," Willow pointed out. "Nevertheless, let's deliver your baby, shall we?"

"Do the honors" Tara offered, leaning back. She looked down at herself and patted her round stomach. "After all, you put this here."

"I'm so virile," Willow nodded. With one hand beneath Tara's stomach, she put her finger to the blonde's belly button and pushed firmly. There was a moment's resistance, then a click and a beep, and a seam appeared around the bulging stomach, where previously there had been only smooth skin.

"Congratulations, it's an equipment package," Willow said, lifting the false stomach off Tara. "Have you got a name picked out?"

"Atlas," Tara sighed, pulling free the straps concealed under her top, and beneath the waist of her pants. "So I don't forget how heavy that was. The access to the coolant conduit should be behind that wall," she added, pointing.

"Righty-o," Willow nodded, turning the faux stomach over and opening its underside. "What we need is one high-resolution ultrasonic probe, which should be right…here."

Tara put a hand over her mouth to stifle her chuckle as Willow held up an impressively-proportioned dildo, which at the press of a button sprouted a sonar transceiver from the tip.

"Hey, don't laugh," Willow shot back, trying to keep a straight face. "This was in you twenty seconds ago."

"Uh-huh," Tara giggled, "I had a fifteen-inch penis inside of me…That's quite out of character for me."

"I should hope so," Willow nodded, blushing furiously as she held the monster phallus against the wall. Data streamed across the screen built into its base.

"According to Anya's dream machine here," she read off, "the conduit is filled with A7-H coolant…We can't open it up until we've dealt with that, or we'll flood the room."

"Right," Willow nodded, dropping the dildo and prising a panel off the wall to reveal a metal surface behind it. "So, pop a reactive mix into the conduit, wait for it to crystallize…"

"Use a condensing reagent," Tara suggested. "It'll solidify the liquid down to a fraction of its usual volume, enough to clear out the conduit for us to get in. We can seal it back up from inside and cut out way through to the liquid lower down."

"It's a plan," Willow agreed, selecting from the equipment pack a fluid injector, which unfortunately looked like a novelty fake breast. She placed its nipple against the metal, fired it with a dull clang, and held it for a moment.

"And…hard seal," she nodded. "Okay, give it…forty minutes? Then we can go in. This panel will pop right off with a nudge from a vibratory spanner, no problem."

"No doubt there's plenty of things that vibrate in that pack," Tara said wryly. "So, say five minutes to get our wetsuits on…What shall we do for thirty-five minutes, all alone in here?"

"Don't you hate it when missions have these pauses, with no spy stuff to demand our attention?" Willow smiled.

"It's terribly tedious," Tara agreed, with a matching smile. She looked over her shoulder, then swung her legs onto the chair and leaned back.

"There is always the obvious option," she suggested, giving Willow a sidelong glance.

"What's that?" Willow asked, adorably grinning and frowning in confusion all at once. Tara raised an eyebrow at her, then lifted her legs into the chair's stirrups.

"We're in an examination room," she purred. "And those impressively realistic credentials I saw you showing off earlier do say you're a doctor…" The grin on Willow's face spread from bemused to cat-that-got-the-cream in the space of a heartbeat.

"Not at all," Tara said demurely. She lifted her hips to help Willow tug her pants down.

"Very nice," Willow nodded, gazing at the gauzy lace that didn't quite conceal Tara's sex. "I like your taste in lingerie."

"Mmm," Willow agreed, slowly drawing the thin lace down Tara's legs and, along with her pants and sneakers, pulling them over her feet and letting them fall to the floor.

"Detailed examination first," Willow said. "We'll see how you feel, and then decide what course of action is necessary."

Slowly, with her other hand resting, friendly and reassuring on Tara's shoulder, Willow let her fingers stroke down among the blonde's curls, and finally further down to sample her moist, soft labia.

"Mmm-hmm," she murmured thoughtfully. "Beautiful shape and texture…rather a lot of moisture though, isn't there?"

Tara took a deep breath as Willow's forefinger slid slowly into her, while her thumb continued to softly massage her lips.

"Indeed," Willow bit her lip in thought. "And do you know what causes it?" She slid her finger into Tara's channel firmly, burying it to the hilt, and began to stroke up and down inside her.

"Ah…yes," Tara nodded again, her chest rising and falling in deeper, more agitated breaths.

"I see," Willow mused, increasing her pace, wiggling her finger vigorously in its wet, hot embrace. "Well then…" With a teasing grin she withdrew, leaving Tara gasping.

"I prescribe orgasms," Willow said happily. "Whenever the symptoms reappear, as and when necessary."

"You sound…like Anya," Tara grinned, getting herself a little bit under control. "Would you assist in my treatment? Or, do I have to attend to myself?"

"My esteemed colleague Dr. Anya does have some good ideas," Willow offered sagely. Her eyes lit up at a thought, and she knelt down to rummage through the equipment pack.

"Just preparing to assist in your treatment," Willow said. "You could attend to yourself, of course, but it's always better to seek the help of a trained professional, don't you think?"

"I'll definitely do that," Tara smiled. Willow stood back up and reached beneath Tara's neck, stroking the back with her fingertips. In her other hand, she held up a pair of smooth metal balls.

"Oh," Tara nodded, her smile widening. "You want me to take two, and see you in the morning?"

"Why wait 'til morning?" Willow chuckled, lowering her hand between Tara's spread thighs. Tara gave a little twitch when Willow touched the cool metal to her lips, then sighed as the redhead delicately parted her folds and nudged the first sphere into her.

"Mmmm," Tara agreed. Willow withdrew her hand from behind Tara's neck and moved to stand between her splayed legs, her free hand stroking Tara's thigh as she nudged the second ball against her sex.

"I'll just perform a routine examination at this point," she explained. "No need for an impersonal probe, of course, when first-hand contact will work much better…" Tara murmured happily as Willow knelt down between her legs and inhaled the silky scent surrounding her core.

"Say 'ah'," she giggled, and leant forward to press her tongue to the bottom of Tara's sex, sneaking the tip inside to taste the source of the slickness coating her lips. Slowly, she drew her tongue flat against Tara's soft, hot labia, and licked up the length of her sex, finishing with a flourish on her clit.

"Good girl," Willow whispered approvingly. She placed a kiss on the second ben-wa ball, then used two fingertips to hold Tara's folds apart while she gently inserted it.

"Oh there's still a lot of procedures to follow," Willow assured her. "Remember, this is going to be a very thorough examination…"

"Good," Tara sighed happily. "I'm definitely…mmm," she moaned quietly as she shifted her hips and the spheres inside her slid smoothly around, "…definitely…in the mood…to be…thoroughly…" Sighs and moans overtook words, as her hips began moving in a rhythm all their own.

"Who said medicine can't taste good?" Willow smiled to herself, before taking another long lick at Tara's pouting sex just inches from her face. "Let me just slip into something more appropriate." She peeled off her jacket and undid her skirt, standing up to let it fall to the floor. Tara laughed, between deep gasps, at seeing Willow's remaining attire, a tight-fitting white nurse's dress with a zipper running up the front. With a tug Willow undid it far enough to reveal the perfectly formed cleavage within.

"Were you…thinking you might get…lucky with me?" Tara asked, as Willow leaned forward over her, holding her hips and adding to their rhythmic thrusting.

"I thought it…yeah…was only, patients, who…uhh…wore short dresses for easy access?"

"Why shouldn't doctors have some fun too?" Willow dipped her head down, pulled Tara's top up over her breasts, and licked at the soft mounds straining to escape her bra.

"I'm all your health care needs, in one convenient package," Willow murmured into her breasts.

"One lovely package," Tara breathed. Willow licked her way thoroughly down Tara's cleavage and onto her stomach, bathing her with long, firm strokes of her tongue. Tara's hands found their way to the back of Willow's head, her fingers winding among her hair.

"You're responding to your current treatment quite well," Willow joked as Tara moaned and arched off the chair. "How about upping the dosage?"

"Trust me," Willow grinned, slipping out of Tara's embrace, "I'm a doctor." She crouched and searched through the equipment pack for a moment, then returned to Tara's side.

"Ready for the healing hand?" she asked, holding up her hand to show off the thin, smooth sleeves over her index and middle fingers.

"I think it'll be more fun if you find out for yourself," Willow smiled deviously. "I should warn you, there will be side-effects."

"Thank you for fully informing mmm…me, before my treatment begins," Tara said seriously. She took a long look at Willow's scantily clad form. "I don't suppose you'd have anything that could cover my mouth, would you? It'd be a shame if someone came to investigate any excess moaning and interrupted us."

"It would be a shame," Willow agreed. "Lucky for you, I think I have just the thing." She grinned and lifted her dress, revealing white silk panties, with a large red cross emblazoned on the front.

"A first-aid kit," Tara noted hungrily, "how convenient. You think of everything."

"I never attend to a patient without it," Willow said, reclining the chair back and straddling it, facing back down Tara's slowly moving body as the blonde stared up from between her thighs.

"What should I do?" Tara asked innocently, stroking one hand over Willow's mound, while her other took a firm grip on her hip.

"Just open it up…" Willow murmured huskily, "and eat what's inside. It's good for you," she finished with a wink.

Tara's innocent smile turned predator in a heartbeat, and she wasted no time in wrapping her arms around Willow's thighs and pulling the redhead down onto her mouth. Willow giggled and wriggled her hips as Tara carefully took the fragile fabric of her panties in her teeth and pulled, tearing the crotch open to reveal her sex, already generously soaked. Pausing only to utter a muffled 'love you,' Tara held Willow firmly atop her face and sent her tongue questing deep inside.

"Ohhhh! Mmmm," Willow moaned, clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her initial outburst. Gaining a little control she removed her hand long enough to touch the sleeves on her fingers, tapping on each a tiny stud at its base, on top of her knuckle. With an almost inaudible whirr her fingers began vibrating. An anticipatory grin spread over Willow's face, and she experimentally touched a fingertip to her nipple, already poking prominently through the thin material of her dress.

"God!" she exclaimed, forcing her voice down to a whisper. "Oh baby, you are going to love this…" Leaning forward, keeping her core grinding against Tara's eager mouth, she rested one hand on the blonde's thigh, and brought the other with its two sleeved fingers near her sopping sex.

Tara jerked the moment Willow's fingers touched her labia, and gave a long, throaty moan into her sex. Willow toyed with her soft inner lips, taking one and then the other between her fingertips, sliding up and down their length, as all the while the finger- sleeves sent frantic vibrations into the blonde's heaving body.

Willow, feeling light-headed from Tara's now-erratic but still vigorous exploration of her core, played her fingertips all around Tara's sex, up and down the insides of her thighs, along her lips, all over her mound, delighting in the desperate, uncontrolled thrusts and shudders she drew from her lover. She forced herself to curtail her teasing, as she felt her own climax straining to gush free from within, and dipped her forefinger between Tara's lips to stroke her entrance, pressing gently against the yielding opening. Between her legs, Tara groaned loudly into her sex.

Willow leant back for a moment, savoring the sight of Tara as she was, totally devoted to their lovemaking. Her face buried between Willow's thighs, eagerly seeking the release which Willow knew she could not hold off much longer; her ample breasts, still encased in her bra, shuddering as she took great gasps of air in between thrusting her tongue as far as she could into Willow's depths, her body writhing, legs trembling, her sex glistening with arousal, her lips pouting open as she pushed against Willow's fingertip on her channel's mouth, trying to enfold it completely. Willow swallowed a moan, and knew it was time.

She lifted herself off Tara's mouth a fraction, not without difficulty as Tara held her thighs firmly. Willow looked down at Tara, between her nectar-soaked thighs, saw her deep blue eyes staring back at her, needful and giving, in a face gleaming with Willow's juices.

"Wanna lose control?" Willow whispered. Tara's eyes widened, then she nodded quickly.

"It's alright, I've got you," Willow promised, lowering her hips again. Tara's tongue was already outstretched, so that Willow felt her slide within as she settled once more on her lover, and leaned forward to lie on top of her, resting her open lips around Tara's clit, not yet licking or sucking, simply enclosing her. She withdrew the single finger tantalizing Tara's entrance, and curled it and her middle finger into her palm, feeling their vibrations run through her hand. She pointed her ring and little fingers instead and, without warning, thrust them into Tara to the hilt.

Tara's body accepted the intrusion without reserve, thrusting back to meet Willow the moment she felt her fingertips enter. Willow fucked Tara vigorously, thrusting her fingers into her again and again, jostling the spheres nestled inside her, ignoring the ache in her wrist. Her whole being focused, shutting out everything but a circular path of sensation that ran through herself and Tara, joining them at Tara's tongue inside her, and her fingers inside Tara. Willow's body sank into the sensation, guzzling pleasure like an animal, while her mind floated, slightly detached from events, wrapped tight in the idea of herself and Tara uniting, their souls flowing through both their bodies, forgetting which was which.

The first shudder of climax brought her mind back to the task before her, and she breathed in a lungful of Tara-scented air, thrusting one last time, deep, curling her fingertips to press against Tara's g-spot, breaking the wall of self-restraint that was holding Tara's climax barely in check. She felt Tara spasm beneath her, muscles clenching, her body heaving up off the chair, lifting on her legs and shoulders, carrying Willow stop her. Her sex pulsed, engorged with feeling, drew taut in preparation for the next heartbeat's release – and then, Willow withdrew, straightened instead her two vibrating fingers, and thrust them firmly into Tara's core, thudding into her target, the vulnerable, sensitive spot within her, with surgical precision.

Tara lost control, utterly. Willow knew, not by experience but simply by instinct, what her lover was feeling – trapped in her own body, unable to command it, a prisoner in a cage of gilded flesh that was being tossed on a stormy sea, exploding in climax. Tara was lost, without anything to guide her save her trust in Willow. Her fingers clawed into Willow's hips, scratching her, and Willow came into a mouth helplessly open, around a tongue moving randomly inside her, and Tara felt herself swallowing her lover's nectar without trying to. Her own sex was almost painful, almost more than her body could feel – it was as if her heart had opened up and was pumping her life out of her, but it was clear, sweet juice that Willow's lips tasted as she spread her mouth wide, touching the base of her fingers as she enclosed Tara's sex and tongued her clit for all she was worth.

It seemed endless for Tara – not multiple orgasms, but one, stretching on infinitely, pumping narcotic pleasure through her veins as long as Willow held her fingers inside her. Points of reference slipped away from the blonde as her body continued to surge, leaving her defenseless and disoriented – it should have been terrifying, but the trust she had in Willow made it exhilarating instead. In the moment before she lost all comprehension, she felt what Willow had imagined – both their climaxes circling through them, the juice flooding into Willow's mouth, passing through her body, flowing from her sex back into Tara's eager mouth, and in turn through her.

Still trembling with the aftershocks of her own orgasm, Willow slowly withdrew her fingers from Tara, snagging the balls' cord and pulling them free at the same time. She tenderly lapped at Tara's weary folds, as her body continued to shake and yield sweetness. Willow used her tongue lightly, with infinite care and grace, soothing the blissfully tortured softness before her until Tara relaxed, her body settling limply onto the chair. Finding the strength to move she lifted her hips, feeling Tara's hands clutch feebly, then slip and fall away, and turned herself around, facing the spent blonde. Tara's eyes were closed, and her mouth hung open, coated inside and out with Willow's juices.

"Hey," the redhead whispered, stroking a stray hair from Tara's sweat-covered brow. She stirred, and her eyes flickered open.

"H-hey," Tara murmured, her voice trembling. "A-am I…still coming?" Willow chuckled softly.

"There aren't words for how okay I am," Tara smiled. "I feel like…" she trailed off, searching. "Like you and me, us, got mixed…We turned liquid and poured together and flowed into each other, and…and now we're full of each other."

"Um, so," Willow continued, looking sheepish, "you're not too worn out, are you? For the mission, I mean? I didn't mean to get quite that intense-" Tara put a hand to her lips, silencing her, and glanced at her watch.

"We've still got ten minutes before wetsuit-time," she said. "In five minutes, you'll be in this chair, naked, I'll be between your legs drinking more Willow-juice than you ever believed your body could produce, and I'm not going to stop until the very instant we have to get ready." She raised an eyebrow at Willow's shocked, eager smile. "If that's okay with you?"

Millau, Massif Central, France
Underground Lair, Coolant Conduit
0100 Hours (local time)

Agents Shy Bunny and Adorabunny, safely enclosed in sealed wetsuits and helmets, swam steadily down through the blue-tinged coolant. Tara, in the lead, was busily taking ultrasonic readings of the conduit walls every few meters, while Willow, swimming behind her, was mainly concerned with how good Tara's ass looked in her silver wetsuit.

"Got something," Tara said, her voice being relayed through the helmet's point-to- point radio to Willow. "I think there's an airlock – well, fluid lock I suppose, behind this panel, we should be able to get out."

"Need a spanner?" Willow offered, reaching for her equipment belt. There was a muffled clang.

"No, I've got it," Tara replied, pulling the side of the conduit open. There was momentary rush of liquid as the empty lock beyond filled with coolant, then everything was still again.

"There's room for us both," Tara said, sliding her legs into the fluid lock chamber and reaching up to help Willow maneuver in the confined space of the conduit.

"It's just as well we like cuddling," Willow quipped, as she slid in beside Tara and pulled the hatch closed above herself. "Otherwise we'd have to get through this one at a time, and that'd be inefficient, you know?"

"Cuddling is very efficient," Tara agreed seriously. Willow saw the humor dancing in her eyes, through the transparent faceplate of her helmet.

They held onto each other as the fluid lock cycled, opening vents above them to admit a rush of icy-cold water, while the coolant seeped out from more vents below. In the space of a minute the vents closed, and they were immersed only in water. A funnel opened in the side walls of the lock chamber and drained the water.

"The alarm on this is just a hardware job," Willow said, reaching awkwardly down between her and Tara's feet to clamp a hotwire pack to the outer door. She fiddled with its controls for a moment, adjusting it to the alarm system it was tapping into. "No…problem…at…all!"

The door swung silently open, allowing Willow to crawl feet-first into the room beyond. Tara followed her, and they removed their helmets and drew tranquillizer pistols.

"Now we find Osbourne," Tara said, with quiet determination. She started forward, but then a blaze of crimson light filled the room, and Willow lunged to catch her and keep her from stumbling in surprise. Tara stared down at a thin, deadly laser beam that had appeared directly in front of her.

The two agents looked around carefully, finding their way blocked by dozens of beams – a cage. As one they looked up when a speaker crackled to life.

"Don't bother," Cordelia's voice echoed around the room. "I'll be happy to bring you to him."

"This…isn't so good," Willow said thoughtfully, dangling from a pair of electromagnetic restraints over the evil animal pit.

"It's actually quite good for your back," Tara noted, dangling alongside Willow. "I heard Codename Hands recommended one good suspension-over-death-pit every three months when he revised the Ministry's physiotherapy schedule."

"Quiet you two!" Harmony said, in what was probably meant to be a bark but came out more as a yap.

"Or what?" Willow shot back. "You'll string us up over a different death pit?" Harmony opened her mouth to reply, the paused in confusion.

"Don't get smart," Cordelia said, in a bored tone, from where she was reclining on the conference table adding minute highlights to her nail polish. "You know it's not fair on her."

"Hey!" Harmony rounded on her. "I designed this whole place single-handedly, let me remind you!"

"And if I hadn't installed some extra laser traps," Cordelia calmly replied, "Cathy Gale and Emma Peel here would've probably reduced it to rubble by now."

"Well they haven't," Harmony said smugly, as the logical flaw in her argument eluded her. "They're up there waiting to be dropped into the platypus pit, so there!"

"Whatever!" Harmony shouted. "Okay, you know what? You!" She pointed to one of the body armored minions lining the control room. "Go get me a dictionary!"

"Girls," Daniel interrupted, appearing on the encircling balcony, "let's not fight…" His face hardened as he glanced at the two captive agents. "Cordelia, why didn't you tell me Willow was one of the intruders?"

"Who'd you think they'd be?" Cordelia shrugged. Daniel glared at her, then slowly made his way around the balcony ramp.

"Willow, I'm sorry you're here," he said stoically. "Believe it or not, I'd really rather you stayed out of harm's way. Still, que sera, sera."

"Do we know a Sarah?" Harmony asked, earning a light swat on the back of the head from Cordelia. "Ow! Hey!"

"Focus," the former agent said, taking a seat. "Look villainous, and let Daniel do the evil speechifying."

"Thank you," Daniel nodded, turning back to Willow and Tara as he reached the main floor. "You'll find this interesting, I'm sure." He gave a smirk, then drew a remote control from his pocket and aimed it at the conference table. The table split in two, narrowly missing Harmony as its two halves tilted over and slid into the floor. In its place was a wide shaft, from which emerged a sleek computer, all brushed chrome and gunmetal-grey accents, with banks of status lights glittering along its sides. Two spindly antennae folded out of its top as it rose to its full height, creating an intricate web of electrical discharges between them.

"What's that?" Tara asked Willow quietly. "Apart from 'War Games' mark two, I mean."

"This is PRUDE," Daniel replied, overhearing her. "Panacea Reactive Universal Defense Environment. Seeing as you're going to die shortly, you might as well know." Behind him, Cordelia heaved an exasperated sigh.

"The Frankenstein's laboratory thing is a plasma matrix," Willow explained quickly. "It's a kind of hyper-storage – that's what, ten, fifteen trillion gigabytes?"

"Closer to twenty," Daniel said smugly. "Panacea is a massive program – a plasma matrix is the only portable containment system for the decompressed, uncompiled raw code. We've had it running self-defense scenarios for months in hyper-mainframes like this, developing responses to every possible attack." He pressed another button on the remote, and the lightning-generating rods slid against each other and folded along their length twice, becoming a single piece of hardware scarcely larger than a mobile phone. Daniel reached up and disconnected it from the huge support computer.

"And now it's ready," he said. "This one device contains the final, active Panacea program. Ready to transmit. From the point of transmission it'll spread like a virus – but then, it gets interesting. The system kernels, spread over a billion separate infected CPUs, will create and maintain links with each other, becoming a single, vast neural network. A learning intelligence, with all the world's computing power at its disposal. Your Ministry – the whole world – has no way at all of eliminating such a network."

"That's…" Willow began, stunned. "I mean, the power, the capabilities of a program like that…" Her amazed face hardened into a frown. "How could you create something like this, and then use it for evil?"

"Me," she said proudly. Willow had a coughing fit, while Daniel looked embarrassed and annoyed at once, and Cordelia watched with amusement.

"What are you?" Willow asked, once she had recovered. "Some kind of idiot savant?"

"She really created the program?" Willow asked Daniel, incredulous. He glared at Harmony, then gave a sheepish nod.

"Your master plan relies on Harmony!" Willow managed to giggle between bouts of outright uncontrolled laughter.

"She's got you there," Cordelia added helpfully, earning another glare from Daniel.

"Dammit!" Harmony protested, grabbing the assault rifle leaning on the back of Cordelia's chair and waving it at the two agents. "Shut up or I'll fill you full of lead!"

"Harmony!" Daniel warned. "We've got a perfectly good automated execution method for them."

"Plus the safety's on," Cordelia pointed out. "And that's a tank buster, so it'd be depleted uranium, not lead."

"Ah!" Harmony shrieked, tossing the gun away. "You want me to catch Gulf Air syndrome?"

"Gulf War," Cordelia grumbled as she retrieved her rifle. "And this is way more advanced, it's safe. Not for whoever's in the tank you shoot at, of course, but-"

"Well just keep it away from me," Harmony interrupted. "I'm not comfortable with weapons that violate major arms treaties."

"Exactly what kind of supervillain is it you want to be, again?" Cordelia asked.

"I'm just saying!" Harmony glared. "You've probably got anti-personnel landmines around here somewhere…"

"Gimme that," Cordelia snapped, grabbing a book from the hands of a returning minion. "See that access shaft over there?" She tossed the book down it, ducking as it exploded on landing.

"Did you really think a tank would've come down that shaft?" Cordelia went on. "It's one foot wide, Harmony!"

"Well duh, I had the mines retuned so they'd go off if a person stepped on them, but they're still anti-tank mines – and, that was my dictionary! How are we supposed to look up platypussies now? You!" she pointed at another minion. "Go get me another dictionary."

"You do and your family will be getting a 'we-regret-to-inform-you' letter from the Minions' Union," Cordelia warned, aiming her anti-tank rifle at him.

"Dictionary!" Harmony demanded. Cordelia responded by firing a shot over the minion's shoulder, decimating a programming suite behind him.

"Would you two please stop destroying my lair!" Daniel finally shouted, losing his cool at last.

"Do you want me to get him boasting about the program again?" Tara whispered to Willow, while no-one was paying attention to them. She shook her head in reply.

"I don't think he'll tell us anything else useful," she muttered. "What about Cordelia?"

"Not now," Tara replied quietly. "She's auto-bickering – she used to do it with Anya all the time. She won't be responsive – if she ever will be – until she's alone."

"What do you think?" Willow asked. "Try to get her to hang back when Daniel and Harmony leave?"

"Might be our best shot," Tara nodded. Daniel coughed to get their attention, with Cordelia and Harmony momentarily quelled by his uncharacteristic outburst.

"I'm afraid we'll have to leave you two here," he said, his composure back in place. "I'd say enjoy your stay, but…that's unlikely. Willow, I'm sorry you got mixed up in all this. Actually, our 'difficulties' all those years ago were the inspiration behind my scheme. It's a pity you won't be around to benefit from it."

"Daniel, you're so right," Willow nodded. "Except for one crucial aspect, which is the…Tara, what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Thanks," Willow gave her a quick smile, before returning her attention to Daniel. "See, she understands me. You, on the other hand, you know what your whole problem was?"

"And yet, here's me discussing it," Willow retorted brightly. "I appreciate how hands- off and patient you were in the beginning, really. Very much not the typical adolescent male."

"I know," Willow agreed. "But you didn't respect who I became. You wanted me to stay the shy, insecure, introverted girl forever, and no-one stays the same forever."

"I grew up, Daniel," Willow said patiently. "I grew up, and I started thinking, well, maybe some of the things I was always too nervous to try, maybe I should give them a go, now that I'm old enough to know what I'm doing. I found out wild doesn't have to equal spaz."

"What do you call it?" Willow shot back. "You were so proud of yourself for being the patient, no-pressure boyfriend that you never wanted it to stop. So even when you wanted to explore, you couldn't – not with me, not with sweet, innocent Willow, even though I wanted to! No, you got yourself all tangled up in denial, and ended up doing the nasty with some convenient floozy while my back was turned. And now, what's all this? You decided it's not your fault, it's everyone else? It's sexy movies and TV and video games that forced you to cheat on me?"

"They're not natural!" Daniel raised his voice, slightly. "They should be controlled, so they don't interfere with people's lives-"

"Oh, won't somebody please think of the children!" Willow mocked. "What, did somebody hold a gun to your head and make you buy those magazines you hid under the bed? You actually wanted to buy a Disney movie, but some unscrupulous sales assistant swapped it for the DVD you hid in the blank case behind the TV? Incidentally, her breasts were so fake."

"You've obviously become too enamored of all this…filth, to understand." Daniel shook his head. "I'm going to make the world better."

"Try making yourself better," Willow glared, "before you start making everyone else's choices for them."

"This is pointless," Daniel said, turning away. "There is one choice I'm certainly able to make for you – whether or not you ever leave here."

"Is this the pre-execution speech?" Harmony piped up. "Ooh, can I do it? Please?" Cordelia crossed to Daniel and stood beside him.

"Let her," she whispered. "It'll keep her out of the way while we get ready to go."

"Glee!" Harmony said to herself, clapping her hands. She took off her long coat, strode in front of the two restrained agents, and took a deep breath, hands on hips, to begin.

"I suppose-" she managed, before Willow and Tara both burst out laughing. "What?"

"Did you forget to put something on?" Tara added. Harmony opened her mouth to reply, paused, looked down to check her attire, then glared at both of them.

"I don't want to sound judgmental, Harm," Willow said, "but what you've got there really doesn't say 'villain' so much as 'free ride'."

"Which isn't 'advertising our availability to any nearby sporting teams'," Willow added snidely.

"I suppose," Harmony began again, loudly, glaring at Willow, "you're wondering what fiendish means of execution will be responsible for…" she searched for a word, "…executing, you two."

"Oh, don't misunderestimate the common platypus," Harmony laughed villainously, or near enough. She had to pause a moment, to adjust her outfit in order to keep her left boob from making an impromptu appearance, then continued:

"You're about to meet the newest member of our villainous team," she gloated. "Platypussy Galore. I'm afraid your pleas for mercy will fall on deaf ears…whatever platypussies have for ears…what?"

"She's my evil pet, I get to choose her name!" Harmony shouted. "And if you don't like it, I'll…well you're about to die anyway, so shut up!"

"Right," Harmony nodded. "In just five minutes, you…wait, are you mocking me?"

"Yes, they're mocking you," Cordelia said without looking up from her laptop. "Huh, 'platypuses'…what do you know."

"In just a few minutes," Harmony rounded on Willow and Tara, "the pit beneath you will open, and you'll be lowered in to your waists. At the same time, a tunnel will open allowing Platypussy Galore into the pit with you."

"I see step one and step three," Willow said critically. "Step two seems to be missing."

"Oh pipe down Harm," Cordelia offered. "I told you before, it wasn't going to kill them just because they didn't know it couldn't."

"Yeah," the blonde grumbled. "They don't appreciate a good execution speech anyway!"

"Go, I'll take care of it," Cordelia offered. Daniel gave her a stern glare, then followed Harmony, while Cordelia got to her feet and gave Willow and Tara a glance.

"Those cuffs are electromagnetic," she said idly. "There's no way you can force them open, and the controls are locked off. Don't let Harm's performance fool you – you're not going anywhere."

"Me villain, you heroes," she said with a shrug. "Me trying to dispose of you is a pretty logical follow-through from that, don't you think?"

"You know what I meant," Tara said accusingly. "Osbourne and his anti-smut scheme…damn it Cordy, you love smut! You practically wrote the book on exhibitionistic espionage, there wasn't a single one of Anya's toys you didn't at least take for a test run…after we saved Mardi Gras from Glorificus and her mad monks, I had to physically drag you out that nightclub after the fifth day of celebrations – and you'd lost your clothes on the second."

"How can you do this?" Tara pleaded. "How can you side with Osbourne, against everything you love?" Cordelia nodded, then leaned close to Tara.

"You're right, it's not about him, or his crusade," she whispered. "It's about one thing: I'm better than you." She glared for a moment, then shot a glance at Willow.

"All of you," she said. "I'm the best." Collecting her laptop and rifle, she headed for the main door, turning back on the threshold.

"Oh, and just in case Harmony's precious pet somehow fails to do the job," she added airily, "I'll be setting the self-destruct when I leave. So you girls have about…fourteen minutes before this complex and everything in it flash-heats to about twelve hundred degrees." She blew a kiss at Willow and Tara.

"I don't get it," Tara frowned. "She was never one of those agents who has to be better than everyone else. I mean, she was better than everyone else – since M got promoted out of field duty, anyway – but she never made an issue of it."

"Poor Cordy," Tara muttered. "I don't know…Something's twisting her up, but I just don't know what, or why…" She looked up at the magnetic restraints encasing her wrists.

"I've got a magnetic pulse generator in my suit, around belt-buckle level," Tara said thoughtfully. "If I can flip up between these cuffs and do the proper sequence of moves, I might be able to demagnetize them. Then find the controls, unlock them – I'll probably need you to talk me through that – get you down, and find a way to break out of here before the whole place becomes one big oven." She gave Willow a glance. "You?"

"I've got the remote control for the car," Willow offered. "I could just have it blast its way in here, then one good zap from the ion cannon will short out these cuffs, and we drive out again." Tara chuckled.

"Extra incentive for you to keep me," Willow grinned. Tara was about to respond, but a thought struck her.

"The, uh," Willow blushed. "The hands-free…attachment…I put a transceiver in it, and rigged it for remote activation."

"The…insertable…control?" Tara asked. Willow reddened and nodded. "So," Tara continued, "you've got that…um…in situ?"

"Uh-huh," Willow nodded again. "It seemed, you know, a good idea – back-up plan, just in case, you know, what with the high the capture-and-put-in-death-trap rates on operations like this…so I…yeah…" She trailed off, then gave a sheepish shrug. "It's actually pretty comfortable, once it warms up."

"Yeah, well…" Willow prevaricated, "…various sounds of hesitation…" Tara winked and blew her a kiss.

"Oh, when you were putting on your wetsuit," Willow chuckled. "After you'd got the main layer on, and the eye candy was over…"

"It'll be a lot easier to control if you can use your magnet thingy to hold it in place," Willow said. "So, I'll just…could you hold still for a moment?"

She swung her legs back, then forward, and started herself moving. After a few swings she was high enough to reach out with her legs and encircle Tara's waist, bringing herself snugly up against her fellow agent and holding on, with her ankles crossed behind Tara's back.

Tara turned her head sideways and bit one of her suit's seemingly-innocuous contour lines running along her arm. There was an answering hum from the level of her waist, and Willow trembled.

"Fine," Willow said quickly. "No problemo at all…it just moved a little…I think it's securely fixed now, so you hold still…I'll drive. Okay, three squeezes to start the engine…"

Tara felt Willow's legs tense as she used her muscles on the control inside her. Willow's eyes seemed to glow for an instant, then the contacts she wore clouded over and gave her a stereoscopic view of the road in the town up above, where they had parked the Aston Martin Vanquish.

"In…gear," Willow gasped, wriggling her hips against Tara, "and…" she gave a hearty thrust, "go! Hard right!" She jerked herself sideways and gasped.

"Yeah!" Willow panted. "Yeah, fine! It's just…oncoming traffic!" She thrust left and right, then rocked her hips forward against Tara's waist. "Uhhhh…just…it's got feedback…you know, road-sensing?"

"Distracting!" Willow warned playfully. "Okay, now…rockets!" She grunted and heaved her body against Tara, and there was a distant, muffled explosion from beyond the sealed doors.

"You're not…the only one…getting feedback…" Tara gasped as Willow slid back and forth against her, gripping her tightly with her legs. "That waist panel you're…magnetized to…reaches down just far enough…"

"You want…me to drive…slower?" Willow asked, her cheeks flushing as she gave a series of thrusts. From outside, nearer this time, there was the staccato rattle of an automatic railgun, and Willow gave a delighted shudder.

"Those railguns have a hell of a kick," Willow agreed. "I'm in the corridors…lots of tight turns, hold tight…"

Tara kicked her legs up and managed, with a considerable feat of flexibility, to get her ankles around Willow's sides.

"Ohhhhh yeah baby!" Willow shouted lustily, as Tara used her newly-gained leverage to push her waist against Willow's crotch. Willow rocked side to side unevenly, thrusting up and down at the same time, clenching and releasing her muscles now and then, to the accompaniment of various sounds of destruction from outside.

"Okay…" she panted, her chest heaving in its wetsuit, which did nothing to conceal her curves. "Coming up on the main doors…uh! Uh-uh-uh-uh!"

"Speed bumps!" Willow said desperately. "Oh god! That was not 'traffic calming'! Ready now…oh baby I'm so ready…"

"Here it comes baby!" Willow moaned, squeezing and thrusting against Tara with all her might. The doors to the control room exploded inwards, and the agents' Aston Martin rolled in, its paintwork scratched on the sides, but otherwise intact. A panel in the car's bonnet retracted, and a curious, high-tech weapon emerged and gave off a brief hum. Willow and Tara's cuffs sprang open, and Tara managed to get her feet beneath herself just in time to catch Willow, who was in no condition to control her own landing. They sprawled, safe if undignified, among the imitation plants in the platypus's habitat.

"Okay," Willow gasped, "now just the platypus to deal with…" She and Tara looked sideways, to see Platypussy Galore staring at them in bemused curiosity.

"I don't think Platypussy's a problem," Tara said, arranging her legs to find purchase on the sand beneath them, "but unless I'm mistaken, you didn't quite get to the end of your 'drive in the country' there." She wrapped her arms around Willow, cradling her head with one hand while the other supported her back, and thrust hard between her legs.

"Uh- Yes!" Willow shrieked, as the car revved noisily, and Tara thrust sensually against her. Her climax was swift in coming, almost before Tara had had time to settle into a rhythm she screamed: "Yes! Oh…god yes!"

Tara nuzzled her neck adoringly as she gasped, then leaned back and gazed down at her, admiring her flushed beauty. Willow lifted a shaking hand to stroke Tara's cheek. "Mmm, baby…"

"Magnet off," Tara murmured, touching the contour on her suit's arm. Willow lifted her head up and pressed a kiss to Tara's cheek, then moved to capture her lips in a second, far steamier kiss.

"I'll drive," Willow grinned. Tara nodded, and helped Willow stand up and brush the sand off herself.

"Oh," she said to herself. As Willow jumped for the edge of the ersatz death-pit, Tara caught Platypussy Galore around the middle, and carefully handed her up.

"You never know," Tara replied with a smile, accepting Willow's hand as she pulled herself out of the pit. "She might be redeemable."

About half a mile from the outskirts of the town of Millau, an unassuming haystack remained spread open one side, revealing itself to be camouflage over a steel-lined ramp leading underground. Within, further down the tunnel, sirens were blaring, hazard lights were flashing, and a massive blast door was slowly descending.

At seemingly the last moment, racing ahead of a wall of flame, Willow and Tara's Aston Martin roared into view and emerged from the ramp at such speed that it flew for several meters before thudding down onto the grass and swerving towards a nearby road. The blast door slammed shut just in time to contain the firestorm behind itself, and the haystack whirred closed.

"I'm contacting the Ministry," Tara said from the passenger's seat, activating a communications console in the glove compartment. Willow nodded, and devoted her attention to negotiating the unlit field. In the back seat, Platypussy Galore curled up for a nap.

"It is boosted," Tara replied. "The only way we could be being jammed is…at close range…" Suddenly a siren blared through the vehicle.

"Missile lock!" Willow warned, thumbing a control on the steering wheel. Panels on the car's radiator slid aside to reveal banks of missile, two of which streaked out ahead, curved over each other, and shot back on either side of the Aston Martin to collide and detonate in mid-air with a pair of larger missiles roaring towards them. As Willow swerved on to the road, Cordelia's Lamborghini Diablo shot out of the shadow of a barn and pursued them.

"You didn't really think I'd assume that death trap would work, did you?" the former Bunny taunted over the radio. Willow and Tara exchanged a worried glance.

"That's not what it looked like off Long Beach," Tara said quickly. Willow gave her a surprised glance, and she added, lowering her voice: "She always had a bit of a temper, when the villains got to taunting her. Hardly my specialty, but anything that gives us an advantage…"

"If it weren't so trite, I'd say you'll pay for that," Cordelia snarled. "Think about this, though: you've only got eight target-seekers left, and after that, you're all out of weapons that can fire backwards. And I've got a lot more than eight shots in this baby."

"She's right," Willow said quietly, glancing worriedly in the rear view mirror at the Diablo, which was proving impossible to out-distance now they were both on the winding country road. "Sedans are always built for frontal assault – they're not so good at, uh, backal assault, or whatever…"

"I'll give you five seconds to give up. If you're nice, I won't tell Danny boy I found you, I'll just hogtie you together until we win. Hey, you might like it! Tara, didn't I always say you needed to rope yourself a hot girl?"

"There'll be civilians around," Willow warned. "Do you think she'd risk them to hit us?"

"Right now I'm not sure of anything about her," Tara frowned. A roadsign showing a bridge flashed past.

"Willow?" Tara asked. "The bridge – it's a straight line, there's nothing to keep her from hitting us."

"This thing can take a few dents," Willow said confidently. "And a piece of straight road is just what I need right now!"

The bridge stretched more than two kilometers, there hundred meters above the ground. Tiny specks compared to its majestic span, the two vehicles roared onto the bridge, flashes of fire lighting their path as the Aston Martin's target-seeker missiles intercepted and detonated each salvo of heat seeking missiles from Cordelia's Diablo. Tinier flecks of light marked the ricochets of autocannon shells off the Ministry vehicle's armored rear.

"Amateur mistake," she chuckled to herself, ramming the gear shift forward and pressing a button on top of the stick. "Bad move Tare, should've picked a better driver." A large panel opened on the back of the Lamborghini, revealing a pair of jet engines which roared to life and sent the car hurtling forwards.

"Willow," Tara said worriedly, glancing back through the bulletproof rear windshield, seeing the Diablo closing on them.

"Then she doesn't know about the ion cannon – even if she's got a scanner, she won't see it until it powers up." She glanced in the mirror. "Come on, use your AI missiles…what's she waiting for?"

There was a flash behind them, then a crack as something hit the back of the car. The tires squealed as they slowed, and Tara looked back to see a cable leashing them to Cordelia's car.

Four plumes of fire leapt from the Diablo – four computer-guided missiles launching from its side bays, weaving out and then turning in mid-air and converging on the captive Aston Martin. At the last moment Willow ran her fingers down a bank of controls on the steering column, and spun the wheel sharply. The car's brakes locked, spinning it around, a razor-sharp buzz-saw slid from beneath the passenger side door and severed the restraining cable, and the ion cannon emerged from the bonnet and pulsed, detonating the incoming missiles as their on-board computers fried and triggered their self-destruct.

"My turn," Willow said, staring at the oncoming Lamborghini. A massive bank of forward-firing rockets lifted up from the car's boot and let fly, filling the air with flaming exhausts and smoke trails.

Just in time the roof of the Diablo blasted off, allowing Cordelia's seat to fly clear on an escape rocket as the car was blasted to pieces beneath her. The flaming wreck screeched across the bridge and smashed through its guard rails, hurtling off into the night and erupting into a fireball in mid-air.

Cordelia, now several hundred meters above the bridge, watched the car destroy itself, as her seat sprouted wings and stabilizer fins.

"She's out of the arc of the railguns," Willow noted, watching the glider as it swept away into the night sky.

"Good," Willow nodded, "they need to know what we know about Daniel's program. I'll find somewhere secluded to park."

"…and he said 'point of transmission'," Willow finished explaining to Agent Hidden Bunny, Fred's field director of statistical analysis, on the car's communications suite, "so my guess is that he intends to use a single transmitter to broadcast the Panacea kernels to all the receptive sites those substations you've been finding are opening up."

"That'd be my guess too," the agent agreed on the monitor. "We've stepped up search-and-destroy operations, but unless Osbourne is planning to sit on his behind for a couple of weeks, we're not going to be able to shut down the vulnerabilities he's created in the world's data networks in time. We'll…hang on, incoming from M…She's skimmed your report, she says good work, report to the nearest safehouse, and wait for your assignment."

"Uh…thanks…I mean, thank her, from us," Willow replied, quite distracted by Tara, in the driver's seat and out of view of the monitor, wriggling out of her wetsuit. With a considerable effort, Willow fixed her attention back on the screen.

"We're running shifts around the clock," Hidden Bunny nodded. "Minimal rest for critical personnel. Enjoy the down time until your orders come in, she finished with a wry smirk.

"We definitely will," Tara agreed. Willow turned to see her stretched out on the reclined seat, head propped up on one arm, wetsuit draped over herself in a not at all concealing fashion, and one leg thrust provocatively out over the gear shift console.

"What about her?" Willow asked, confused. She cast a glance at Platypussy Galore, who remained curled up and contentedly asleep on the back seat. Her eyes shot back to Tara's as the blonde stretched her leg across the car's centre console and trailed her foot up Willow's thigh to her crotch.

"Oh…oh!" Willow nodded, wide-eyed. "Well it was really just a spur-of-the-moment thing…and besides," she added, suddenly assuming a lascivious grin, "I was worried you might accidentally trigger the vibro-feedback test mode…using the diagnostic control in the steering column, just below the indicator arm in a little safe compartment, combination 2-5-1."

"Oh look," Tara smiled lazily, retrieving the diagnostic control – a slim palm-sized gadget – from the steering column, and pretending to be oblivious to her toes wriggling their way between Willow's thighs.

"See, that's exactly…what I mean," Willow agreed, spreading her legs a fraction to allow Tara a little more access. "It's so easy to stumble across…and switch into test mode, by pushing the two green buttons, then keying in T-T-zero-D-zero…"

"You're right," Tara nodded solemnly, keying the combination into the gadget's tiny control pad. "See how easy that was…"

"And then, the merest noise would make the car remote generate vibrations," Willow pointed out. Tara widened her eyes, feigning academic interest in this tidbit of knowledge, then held the gadget to her lips.

"Yes," Tara said in a low tone, making Willow shiver delightedly, "that's actually far too easy to do by accident, mmmmm…"

"Maybe," Tara suggested, "we should tell Anya, and get her to reconfigure the control? Hmmmm?" Willow squirmed, holding Tara's foot tightly between her thighs.

"Agreeeeeeeeeed," Tara smiled, sliding her toes up to Willow's waist as the redhead involuntarily parted her thighs. Willow ran a shaking hand along the blonde's calf, and lifted her leg higher, leaning down to kiss her ankle.

"Just what you wanted for Christmas?" Willow giggled. Tara laughed lightly, then gasped as Willow closed her lips around her big toe and sucked it heartily.

"Sweetie," Tara purred, her eyes heavily lidded with desire. "I think…it's time to switch to manual control…"

At Willow's eager nod, Tara withdrew her foot and nimbly clambered out of her seat to straddle the redhead. Willow opened a hidden panel in the passenger side door and touched a button, which retracted the back seat – and its bemused occupant – into a rear compartment, leaving room for both front seats to recline fully, leaving ample room for Tara to stretch out on top of her and begin to open her wetsuit.

"Lots of neat accessories," Willow agreed. "But you're right, automatic is only so good. It's always better to go manual – have the control right there, in your…hand!" she finished gleefully, as Tara pulled her wetsuit open from neck to crotch and slid her hand between Willow's legs.

"First gear," she murmured, sliding down to rest her head on Willow's body, licking and kissing her stomach. She slid a single finger into Willow's steamy sex, and began slowly pumping in and out.

"Vroom!" Willow nodded, stretching her legs beneath Tara, her hands in Tara's golden hair, stroking her.

"Second gear," Tara whispered, adding another finger. Moist sounds emerged from between them, as the blonde's thrusts displaced generous amounts of warm nectar.

"You're a natural, baby," Willow murmured, one hand still running through Tara's hair, the other gently caressing her face.

"Third gear," Tara said, adding a third finger. She opened her mouth and sucked Willow's fingers as the redhead's hungry, moist core welcomed her questing fingers and clenched tightly around them. Her other hand snuck around Willow's hip, delving between her cheeks and massaging her tightly-clenched rose, slick with the rivulets of juice running out of her sex.

"Mmmmm," Willow purred, grinding her hips into Tara's hands. The blonde kept her other hand's caressed superficial, stimulating without penetrating.

"Fourth…gear…" she murmured around Willow's fingers, withdrawing her soaked fingers, adding the fourth, and slowly easing them back into the redhead's clenching channel.

"Love you," Tara replied. Willow's wet fingers stroked her chin, her cheek, ran up and down the edge of her ear. She opened her mouth wide and pressed against Willow's stomach, laving her tongue over all the pale skin circumscribed by her lips.

"Fifth gear…?" Willow asked, in a hushed, tentative whisper. Tara looked up slowly, without ceasing her slow thrusts between Willow's legs.

"You want?" she asked. Willow opened her eyes and met the blonde's gaze unflinchingly.

"You've got," Tara murmured, returning her lips to Willow's skin. She slid slowly down, licking Willow's waist, her russet curls, while her fingers grew slowly more agile, venturing a little deeper, twisting a little more from side to side with each gentle, drawn- out thrust.

"Open," Tara whispered, finally reaching Willow's clit and circling it with the tip of her tongue. She tucked her thumb in her palm and pushed gently inward, withdrew, thrust, a little more each time, feeling Willow's body give more, her tight, grasping lips clutching further up her hand with every sliding penetration. She tilted her head to one side, placed a gentle kiss on the side of Willow's vulva, careful not to overstimulate her, to cause her to tense, and with a slow, inevitable motion, slid her hand beyond the final set of knuckles, over the widest point as the back of her thumb slid in, and buried herself to the wrist in Willow's yielding sex.

"Willow?" Tara whispered, glancing up, seeing an expression of rapture lighting the redhead's face. Willow looked back, and Tara felt engulfed in the dark pools of green that caught her gaze.

"I'm in you," Tara said, unable to process any thought besides the warmth surrounding her hand, more than ever before.

"You've always been in me," Willow said, letting her head drop back. "Oh, Tara, please…"

Tara smiled and ducked her head, finally covering Willow's clit with her lips and sucking voraciously. She felt, from inside and out, Willow's climax begin, a heavy, trembling wave that ran through her, erupted from her mouth as a blissful moan and from her sex as a gush of nectar escaping the tight seal her lips made around Tara's wrist. It subsided quickly, and almost as quickly began again, Willow tensing, releasing, a second time, then a third, and again, again. Tara swallowed all she could of the precious juices coating Willow's sex, feeding on the ecstatic shockwaves – Willow's core was tugging at her, clenching and relaxing, and Tara let her arm go limp and watched in amazement as Willow's body made love to itself, forcing her hand back almost to its widest point with each orgasm, then drawing it back in, hungrily, bringing on the next.

It was a deliriously long time before Willow finally subsided. Tara gently withdrew her hand, placing a soft kiss on Willow's inner thigh as she felt her lips draw tight in the moment before she slid free.

Willow awoke to find a thigh in front of her. In her drowsy, semi- conscious state, she considered that it was a very appealing thigh, resolved to kiss the gap of bare skin between the thoroughly short skirt above it and the top of the smoky black stocking held half-way up by an elegant garter strap, and she did so. It proved to be a tasty thigh, too.

"Good morning…afternoon, I should say," Tara smiled. Willow looked up from her new favorite thigh, and found that it was attached to Tara. 'That explains the wanting-to-kiss-thigh urge.'

"Afternoon," she murmured, blinking the sleep from her eyes. A random thought occurred to her not-entirely-working-at-full-speed brain. "Where's the car's remote? Didn't I have it…?"

"It's in the toy cleaner in the laundry," Tara replied. "It got dropped on the car floor, and I thought best to give it a clean, in case it needs to be used again."

"Oh yeah. Oh! Yeaaahhhh," Willow grinned, as her memory started picking up the slack. She shifted back, sat up, propping herself up with her elbows on the pillow, and took in the image of Tara sitting on the bed beside her.

"We're in France," Tara shrugged. "And I decided to get you breakfast – or rather, lunch – in bed, so I thought it was appropriate."

"I like that thought," Willow nodded. "It ended up in a good place." She rolled over and placed another kiss on Tara's thigh.

"This is sexy," she murmured against the smooth skin. Tara chuckled and swung her feet up onto the bed; Willow, at seeing the long length of stocking-clad leg stretching out in front of her, ran her hand slowly from mid-thigh to ankle and back.

"If I'm lunch," Tara mused, gently stroking Willow's hair as the redhead set about kissing her way along the blonde's leg, "what am I going to do with these croissants?"

"Coffee?" Willow asked quickly, her head popping up over Tara's leg like a watchful meerkat.

"Now this will be the ultimate test," Tara laughed, pretending to think out loud. "Can I distract her from coffee?" Without waiting to see if Willow took the question as rhetorical or not, she flipped her partner over and swung a leg over her waist. Willow blinked in surprise, and not a little delight, as Tara settled in on top of her, proudly upright, and smiling down lazily.

"What was that?" Tara prompted, hiking her already minimal skirt up around her waist and pressing her silken panties into Willow's stomach.

"Nope, forgotten completely," Willow grinned. Tara chuckled, and gently lay herself down, shifting sideways slightly so as to end up lying half-on top of Willow, with an arm draped over her chest and a thigh resting on her waist.

"You'll have to eat breakfast eventually," she smiled, drawing lazy patterns with her fingertips on Willow's shoulder.

"Oh sure, eventually," Willow said flatly. "But I do get to eat Tara first, right?" She fluttered her eyelashes, then tilted her head down to nuzzle in Tara's hair, lightly kissing her neck and ear.

"Of course," Willow replied. "The obvious eat/don't eat question…naturally I'm hoping for an 'eat' decision. Then of course there's the menu to be decided on, from all the available options – Tara nipples, and of course the greater Tara breast area, Tara lips, Tara clit, Tara labia, Tara channel-of-boundless-yumminess, Tara hips, Tara toes, Tara fingers, Tara ears…mmm," she paused, nibbling said Tara part, "…Tara neck is very kissable, not to mention Tara shoulders, the expanse of Tara back is good for literally weeks of non-stop kissing and licking, Tara thighs, oh, and Tara buttocks, very tasty…take your pick? 'All of the above' is a valid option, by the way," she added.

"'Channel of boundless yumminess'?" Tara asked, trying and failing not to laugh.

"Uh-huh," Willow nodded. "I looked it up. In my private Willow encyclopedia. 'Cause I'm not sure how I'd feel about intimate Tara bits being listed in any old dictionary for everyone to see…" She paused, and lifted her head up to meet Tara's amused gaze.

"Not that I'm being possessive," she quickly clarified. "I mean, if it was your lifelong ambition to model for a naughty illustrated encyclopedia…or something…I'm making the kind of sense you only get in bizarre parallel realities, aren't I?" Tara kissed the tip of her nose.

"You're adorable," she said. "And for the record, I'm quite content to have an audience of one in my chosen career as a nude model."

"Yeah," Willow smiled. "As your biggest fan, yay." She returned the gesture, kissing Tara's nose.

"Silly plus Willow equals adorable," Tara explained. "That's from my encyclopedia." Willow's stomach gave a grown, and Tara chuckled and stroked it.

"You need something inside you," she suggested, lifting a finger to Willow's lips to stall the inevitable response. "Food, Little Miss Ravenous. Come on, let's eat."

"But Tara-eating?" Willow protested forlornly, sitting up as Tara rolled over her and reached for the breakfast tray she had left on the bedside table.

"Plenty of time for all kinds of Tara-related activities," the blonde promised. "I checked in with the Ministry while the toast was toasting. We're scheduled for redeployment at six o'clock, briefing to be done en route to wherever they send us. So," she glanced at the bedside clock, "four hours and forty-six minutes of uninterrupted leisure time for the both of us."

"I'll make a schedule," Willow said to herself, pouring coffee for herself and Tara.

"Already done," Tara smiled. "Item one, Tara and Willow frolic and cavort. Duration four hours and forty-six minutes, meals included."

"Frolicking and cavorting?" Willow smiled back, handing Tara her cup, and accepting a croissant in return. They sat side by side, cross- legged on the bed with their knees touching.

"Or 'cavorting' without…um," Willow's brow creased in thought. "Well if you…add in a 'u' and an 'e', you could make 'tongue' out of it?" She watched as Tara snorted, laughed, stifled her giggles, then laughed out loud again, and felt a bloom of pleasure in her heart that came from far more than simply the ample amount of trembling cleavage Tara's top displayed as she shook with laughter.

"Tell me something Willowy," Tara said, as she and Willow tucked into breakfast in earnest.

"Yeah, something…something that's just 'Willow'. Not in your personnel file, nothing to do with the Ministry, or global eroti- politics, or espionage, just…a Willowy thing."

"A Willowy thing…" Willow pondered, as Tara watched her absently take adorable tiny bites from a corner of her toast. "Okay, well…at home, in the garden out back of my house – which is not a very big garden, I hasten to add, but it's nice, especially in spring, the sun comes in at just the right angle, it's sunny and shady at the same time…anyway, there's this little water feature kind of thing, basically just a stone bowl with a pedestal in the middle and a bird bath on top, so the water overflows from that and down into the bowl, and it's all very efficient behind the scenes so it doesn't waste water, or something – there's a filter, anyway. You could drink out of it, provided there aren't any birds in it, 'cause who knows whether they know that they should get out to do their business…I'm getting off- track, huh?"

"Okay, water feature," Willow went on. "I have this, I guess you'd call it a habit, of going out and putting a lawn chair out next to it, in the shade of a big old tree, and sitting there reading with my bare feet in the pool of water…I don't know why, it's just cool and soothing, and…well, I don't know. But I guess that's a Willowy thing."

"What about you?" Willow prompted. "What's something Tara-y? Tarary…? What's the proper conjugation of 'Tara'?"

"I am Tara, you do Tara, he/she…wishes they were Tara, if you're doing Tara at the time," Tara smirked. Willow coughed briefly on her coffee, then waved a hand and nodded to indicate she was fine. Tara put a hand on the redhead's thigh and rubbed it slowly.

"Alright, something Tara-y," she said. "I…oh I know. This isn't something that only I do, at least I imagine not, but it's something I really, really enjoy."

"Making notes," Willow promised dutifully. Tara squeezed her thigh affectionately.

"And by coincidence, it also involves reading," Tara went on. "I like curling up in bed with supper, something light like a sandwich and some tea, and reading some old book I've read dozens of times already. Just for fifteen minutes or so…it's kind of like meditation, before I go to sleep. I don't do it every night, just when I've had a long day, for one reason or another…usually when I'm off active duty and catch an administration rotation, departmental paperwork isn't my idea of fun. It's a, I suppose, a comforting way of unwinding."

"And as a consequence, I'm very good at catching crumbs," Tara added, deadpan. Willow giggled.

"Another Willowy thing," Willow explained. "If you'd like another Willowy thing, that is?"

"My crossword pen," Willow resumed. "Okay, you've probably noticed I'm not exactly averse to the company of electronic devices or a laptoppy variety, and yes, I do have a crossword program, but it's not as much fun. I have this felt tip pen at home that I've had for years – well actually, there've been several, when one runs out of ink I make sure I replace it with exactly the same kind, so spiritually it's all the same pen, if you get what I mean."

"It just…feels nice," Willow shrugged. "Writing on newspaper it's a little scratchy, when it's all quiet late at night and I'm crosswording I – did I just make up a verb?" Tara nodded and grinned, and Willow continued: "When it's quiet, I can hear myself writing, just on the edge of hearing, and I can feel the texture of the paper when I hold the pen lightly, which I do because would you believe, I'm not that good at crosswords…"

"That I don't believe," Tara said, arching an eyebrow and nibbling a croissant.

"No, really," Willow insisted. "Not the cryptic ones, just simple crosswords. I keep guessing, is the problem, and you can pretty much guarantee for some weird fluke-of-probability reason that any time there's two suitable words that both have the right number of letters, I'll pick the wrong one, and I never pause and check a couple of other clues first, to make sure…just full steam ahead." She gave a helpless little shrug, and looked at Tara expectantly.

"Hmm? Oh…well, speaking of steam, I like washing dishes," the blonde replied. "Not in bulk, obviously, just my own." She took a sip of coffee, and flicked Willow a glance over the top of her cup. "Though I could easily enough cope with two sets of dishes…It's the steam, it wafts up out of the sink and curls around my face, and it's very relaxing. My mind can wander completely – it's like daydreaming, only a useful household purpose is being fulfilled at the same time."

"And it's usually night, so it'd be night-dreaming," Tara added thoughtfully. "My Tara-y things seem to involve relaxing a lot, why is that?"

"It's…I know," Willow said quickly. "Newton's third law, equal and opposite reactions. You relax so much, because you're continually making me so agitated."

"Is that so?" Tara asked with a slow smile. She lifted her legs up onto the bed and gently lay Willow down, resting her head in her lap.

"Do I agitate you?" she whispered, playing with Willow's hair spread out over her thighs. Willow stretched her arms out above her head, on either side of Tara, and then began caressing her hips beneath her skirt.

"Mmm," Tara murmured, leaning back and supporting herself on her elbows. She looked down the length of her torso at Willow, from her point of view a swirl of fiery hair nestled comfortably on her hips.

"I had a…hm, heh…an idea earlier…" she spoke up, pausing for a breathy chuckle as Willow's nails lightly ran up and down her hips.

"Is it an idea that involves these panties being removed?" Willow asked, nudging the top of Tara's frilly skirt out of her way and gently poking her silk-clad mons with the tip of her nose.

"Which do you think?" Willow grinned to herself, digging her fingertips gently into Tara's bottom. "Don't get distracted, what's the panty-removing idea?"

"There's a security perimeter around a lot of the grounds of this place," Tara said softly. "Complete privacy assured. And there's a lovely area of woods just out the back…while I was getting breakfast ready, I was thinking, it'd be nice to have a picnic, just the two of us."

"Picnic," Willow mused. Tara's involuntarily opening thighs had spread far enough for her to quickly run the tip of her tongue across her panties, and feel the shape of Tara's folds beneath.

"Good. Because this outfit isn't at all suitable for a picnic." Tara looked down at Willow and put a fingertip to her lip, feigning deep puzzlement.

"If only there was somebody who'd strip me naked," she pouted forlornly, "that'd solve all my wardrobe problems, and leave me free to put on something more outdoorsy…later," she sighed contentedly, letting herself drop back onto the bed as Willow's fingers found the hem of her skirt and started sliding it down her legs.

The two agents sauntered slowly through the picturesque woods, holding a heavily-laden picnic basket between them, somewhat later than they'd intended. Their relatively straight-forward plan of 'shower, fill basket, get dressed' had somehow become 'shower, make out in shower, prepare basket, make out on kitchen table, get dressed, make out in wardrobe, get dressed again,' and what with one thing or another it was mid-afternoon by the time they arrived at a sunlit glade by a little stream, and spread their blanket out on the grass.

"Are you standing behind me for any particular reason?" Tara chuckled as she leant over to smooth out a corner of the blanket.

"Not at all to admire your ass," Willow promptly replied. They had typed 'picnic' into the safe house's Ministry-issue Sexy Wardrobe Unit, resulting in Willow wearing a sundress that was far more sun that dress, and Tara a soft flannel shirt that she'd tied in front instead of buttoning, and a pair of denim cut-offs that evidently had been cut off, then off again, then off once more for good measure, and really deserved to be called bikini bottoms.

They finished unpacking their late picnic lunch – Tara forgetting to use her knees whenever she had to bend over, and Willow coincidentally always standing between Tara and the sun, so that the light shone straight through her flimsy dress – and settled down to eat, both leaning up against the trunk of a handy tree, and cuddled together.

"It is," Tara nodded, blinking in surprise. "Our first date, huh? I think things are going pretty well. I'm not especially nervous."

"I'm feeling fairly confident that I'm not coming across as a spaz," Willow added.

"Normally I wouldn't," she replied. "But under the circumstances, I might be inclined to revise my policy."

"If I didn't kiss you, I'd be thinking all day about what it would have been like to kiss you," Tara grinned, popping a cherry into Willow's mouth.

"Then I'll be thinking all day about what it was like to kiss you," Tara said with a smile.

Willow tilted her head up from where she was resting on Tara's shoulder, with a curious smile on her face, a mixture of puzzlement and gratitude.

"It wasn't the cherry, and there's more where that came from," Willow offered impishly. "What's this?" she added, reaching for a cloth-wrapped bundle in the bottom of the picnic basket.

"Why would I not be interested?" Willow asked, taking her hand away from the mysterious surprise.

"Well," Tara said, as if not entirely convinced herself, "it's a…a kind of hot lusty action kind of surprise, I wasn't sure if you'd want to, just now."

"Well we've already made love a couple of times today, and you looked like you were enjoying the picnic as is – you know, um, calm. Serene."

"I'm perfectly serene during hot lusty action," Willow protested. "In fact, I think I'm rarely as serene as when you and I are up to whatever naughty hi-jinks it is we're up to."

"Absolutely," Willow replied, matching her mock-serious face for mock-serious face. "It's like yoga, only with benefits."

"Under protest at leaving Tara-cuddle," Willow pretended to grumble as she got to her feet. "I'll just be over here," she added, heading for the stream with a gleam in her eyes.

Each woman concentrated on herself for a moment, letting the quiet sounds of the other's activities reach their ears without looking to see what was going on. Tara finally finished her preparations, fought down a blush, and called out with only a minor giggle: "Okay, come and get it!"

She looked up just as Willow stood and turned around, and there was a moment of aroused silence as they each took on the other. Willow had quickly shed her sundress, leaving herself clad only in plain black panties and bra, and with the aid of a quick dunk in the stream, had slicked her hair back, with results that were far too sexy to be legal. Droplets of cold water, like Tara's eyes, trickled slowly across her skin, raising goose bumps – the water, and the stare.

Tara, on the other hand, had so far as Willow could see simply undone the knot holding her shirt closed, and Willow's eyes lingered for a long time on the softness of her breasts, tantalizingly available, before glancing down her body -

"Surprise?" Tara said, half bashful, half unashamedly drinking in the sight of Willow.

"My…what a…big penis you have," Willow finally managed, doubling over with laughter. Tara looked down at herself, specifically the notable bulge in her denim shorts, which just about covered the leather straps holding the attachment on.

"I can't think how you didn't notice it before," she joked. She got up and walked to Willow, who was having serious trouble breathing due to hysterics. She could see the humor in the situation – she had had a difficult time keeping her own laughter silent when Willow was using the bathroom and she had tried on the strap-on to adjust its straps earlier – but she'd seen the gleam of anticipation in Willow's eyes before the hilarity had taken over, and she knew neither of them wanted to abandon the promised 'surprise' just yet.

"All the better to fill you with," she purred into Willow's ear, scooping up the near-empty picnic basket and putting it in Willow's hand. "My dear Red Riding Hood…"

"Haha…heh…hm? Oh…hmmm," Willow's amusement quickly morphed into arousal as she heard Tara's purr, and caught on to her game.

"Well," she said, biting her lip as Tara shed her shirt and stalked slowly around her, "you see, Miss Big Bad Wolf, I was on my way to grandmama's house, when I accidentally fell in a stream, and lost my way, and my dress…I really didn't mean to stumble into your lair."

"Didn't you?" Tara chuckled, nudging Willow forward towards the picnic blanket. "Because from where I'm standing, you didn't look like you were lost. In fact, I'd say you were trying to find me. There's no food in your basket – you're not going to grandmama's house. You wanted to end up in the wolf's lair…with me."

"But," Willow said with an air of innocent confusion, as Tara gently pushed her down onto the blanket and rested a thigh atop her to keep her down, "why on earth would I do that? Everyone knows the Big Bad Wolf…eats anyone who strays into her lair," she finished in a trembling, aroused whisper.

"That's true," Tara said, leaning forward to murmur into Willow's ear. "But suppose a certain young woman…a very naughty young woman…were to think a lot about the Big Bad Wolf…And late at night, in her bed, naked," she nipped at Willow's earlobe, "would she touch herself, and let herself think naughty thoughts that all the other village girls wouldn't dare?"

"And one day, she just can't help herself," Tara continued. "She comes out into the forest, and finds the wolf's lair, because she can't go on wondering…She needs to know what it's like, to feel the wolf…touch her. Have her."

"Wolves have a keen sense of smell," Tara noted. "I can smell how wet you are, Red Riding Hood."

"Mmm…good," Tara chuckled. While she ran her fingers through Willow's wet hair, with her other hand she raked her nails down the redhead's back, and stroked her firm ass, glistening wet in the sunlight.

"Not so innocent, are you, Red Riding Hood?" she said, dipping her fingers between Willow's thighs to briefly touch her sex, finding her lips yielding beneath the thin panties, and a very different kind of wetness emerging from within.

"Not after all those nights fantasizing about a certain sexy wolf," Willow replied.

"Mmmeeee," Willow moaned, as Tara's fingers lightly stroked over her clit, making her hips lift and her thighs part involuntarily.

"Eager Red Riding Hood," Tara murmured into Willow's ear, as she left the redhead's core bereft of attention for a moment to undo her own shorts.

"Juicy Red Riding Hood," Tara continued, nipping at the nape of her neck. She kicked her shorts away, revealing the strap-on. It made no attempt to be anatomically accurate, but it was rated A++ by the Ministry's database – Tara, unsure if Willow habitually used a dildo, and not especially experienced in the field herself, had gone for the highest-rated regular size the safe house's storeroom had to offer, the euphemistically-named Wonder Wand 900™.

It just happened to be a somewhat tacky bright gold color, but she was hoping Willow wouldn't glance back to actually see it – another fit of laughter would derail the whole game they were playing. And, Tara mused, she was quite enjoying being the Big Bad Wolf.

"Ready, Red Riding Hood?" she asked, moving herself down to Willow's legs and stroking her waist with her fingertips, moving down her hips and urging them further up, and into a gentle rhythm.

"Ohhh yes," Willow sighed, feeling Tara teasingly licking the backs of her thighs, and then her inner thighs as she spread herself wide open.

"Wet for me, Red Riding Hood?" Tara murmured, tugging Willow's panties aside and letting her breath tickle the redhead's sex.

"Uh-huh," Willow moaned, coaxing a few more inches worth of spread from her legs for the blonde.

"So much for innocent little Red Riding Hood," Tara chuckled, moving up Willow's body. She carefully positioned herself, and let the tip of her dildo brush against Willow's moist lips. With one hand she gently, firmly, pressed down between Willow's shoulders, leaving no doubt as to who was playing the wolf. Stealthily, without Willow noticing, she reached behind herself with her other hand and turned up the inlaid dial on the back of the dildo's harness, stifling a moan as she felt the toy begin to rhythmically vibrate.

"Oooh!" Willow exclaimed, as Tara let the tip touch her clit – she could agree with the sentiment, as its base was firmly held against her own, and doing no small amount of teasing at the arousal that was already building inside her. She let her hips move forward a little, just enough to settle the tip of the dildo between Willow's lips, then stopped. There was no denying it, she mused as she regarded her lover's squirming form, it was a thrill in itself, even besides the obvious passion the sight inspired – seeing Willow so aroused, so caught up in their game, so eager to feel Tara take her.

"Say please," she whispered, keeping her hand on Willow's back to still the redhead's attempts to cut to the chase.

"Are you teasing me?" Willow smirked over her shoulder. Tara laughed out loud and smiled back.

"Maybe I just like seeing sweet, innocent Red Riding Hood admitting what she really wants," she grinned.

"Mmmm, you win," Willow groaned, shrugging Tara's hand off her back and lunging backwards until her bottom pressed firmly against Tara's hips.

"Oh…I sure do!" Tara agreed enthusiastically, head spinning from the vibrating pressure against her clit. She braced herself on her hands, either side of Willow's shoulders, and steadily thrust as Willow squirmed beneath her. The ingenious toy between them did its job of bestowing pleasure on both ends; Tara's hips against Willow's buttocks, Tara's breasts pressed against Willow's back, the way their panting, moaning breaths mingled in the air, heightened the experience far beyond anything a mere device could achieve on its own.

"Love Big Bad Wolf," Willow moaned in reply. She shivered in surprise and arousal as Tara let more of her weight rest on her partner, pinning her, and summoned an animal grown from her throat.

"Mmmmm!" she moaned in response, digging her fingers into the ground and pushing back. Tara thrust deep and stayed there, buried in Willow, slowly circling her hips. Willow quickly picked up her rhythm and began to grin her hips in opposition, causing the toy trapped between them to writhe, against Tara's clit and inside Willow. Tara put her weight on one arm, and wrapped the other around her lover's body, firmly squeezing her breasts, still confined in their silky bra, then lowering her hand to grip Willow's hips, and then delve between her legs, massaging her clit while holding Willow tightly against herself.

"…fuck me…" Willow breathed, snagging Tara's lust on her voice and pulling hard.

"Oh I will," Tara promised, feeling flutters in her belly. "I will, Sexy Red Riding Hood. Again, and again, and again…So much that when I'm done licking you clean, your taste will stay on my lips forever…" Both their bodies were moving jerkily, on the edge of control, desperate as they clung together.

"Yes…" Tara bit her lip as she felt Willow's nectar trickling down her inner thighs. She nuzzled the back of Willow's neck, and slowly withdrew the dildo to its tip, moving her hand back to firmly hold Willow's hip, bracing her for more.

The sound of an engine somewhere in the sky above interrupted them, and both Willow and Tara swore loudly, with a vocabulary neither really expected the other to have possessed, as it became clear that it was closing in. With their shared sense of duty, and protectiveness of each other, making a truly valiant effort against their arousal, they separated, Willow scrambling for a stun gun from the picnic basket and tugging her panties back into their intended arrangement, Tara struggling to get her shorts on with one hand and do up her shirt with the other.

"Whoever this is is deader than an 8086 trying to run Tomb Raider," Willow hissed. "Tara? The- oh my god it's bright gold!"

She dissolved in a fit of giggles, as Tara stopped panicking and realized the reason she was having trouble with her shorts was the eight inches of sex toy getting in the way. She finished with her shirt and began scrabbling behind her waist at the harness's buckles, while with the other hand she scooped up a miniature anti-vehicle rocket pistol.

"Wait," Willow waved a hand, "I…I know that sound. That's Ministry, it's a Bunnywing heli-transport."

"I think it's stuck," Tara complained, flipping the safety catch back on the rocket pistol and sticking it under her arm so she could devote both hands to the recalcitrant strap-on. A rope uncoiled from above, where the aircraft was visible as its wash blew the high branches about.

"Here," Willow said quickly, scooping up the picnic blanket and tossing it to Tara. She had just enough time to shake the leaves off it and wrap it around her shoulders, concealing her embarrassingly penis- endowed state, before Faith dropped in, dressed in a typically Faith- like flight outfit, consisting of leather and not a lot of it.

"Surprise!" she grinned, as Willow rolled her eyes. "It's your friendly neighborhood sexy goddess. B's up top with her hands wrapped around the stick – lucky I'm so understanding, huh?" She chuckled at her own joke and cast Willow an affectionate leer. "Nice outfit Red, how've you been? We've missed you!"

"I'm good," Willow conceded. "It's good to see you too. Uh, this is Agent Shy Bunny, my partner."

"Hi Shy," Faith nodded. "Leather Bunny, call me Faith. You been looking after our favorite newly-minted Bunny?"

"Um, yes…mutually," Tara said, somewhat taken aback by the brunette's brisk manner.

"Good – what's with the picnic basket Will, you and Shy been playing Red Riding Hood out here in the woods?" Faith looked from Willow to Tara and back again as they broke out in matching blushes.

"You have been playing Red Riding Hood?" she exclaimed. "Oh Red, I'm so proud – just wait 'til I tell B our little girl's all grown up and- which one of you was playing wolf?"

"Faith," Willow said in a long-suffering manner, "we're a bit in the middle of something, can you…could we meet you back at the house?"

"Sure thing Red, see you soon – nice to meet you Shy," Faith grinned, zooming back up as her rope retracted. A moment later the aircraft's engine noise retreated in the direction of the house.

"My former superior – one of, that is, her and Buffy. Cheerleader Bunny. Um, she's okay, really," Willow said apologetically. "Just kind of…well, you saw. So, uh, how about we depenisify you?"

"So," Willow said, "how is it that you're here interrupting activities which no Faith we are not going to talk about?"

The four Bunnies were sitting around the safe house's kitchen table, Buffy and Faith in their customized flight suits, Willow and Tara having quickly showered and changed into their usual mission outfits. Faith reached into Buffy's slim backpack and produced a shiny black riding crop, placing it on the table in front of them, where Platypussy Galore sniffed at it, then lost interest.

"Indisputable proof of authenticity," Buffy added. "See, here's the thing: in about ten minutes you'll get a call to be briefed here on the house's big screen, and that'll give you orders to go to Algeria or Venezuela or somewhere. And you have to ignore them."

"Hence the crop," Buffy nodded. "We got our briefing by mouth from the Gold Bunnies, and they got it direct from M herself. Right now there's new orders being sent over the Smut-Net to all active agents, and Bunnies being given countermanding orders in person, no electronic traces – one Bunny to another."

"Got it in one, Shy," Faith grinned. "Wyndam-Pryce – somehow Queen Bunny seduced him, and he's been feeding her inside info this whole time. He doesn't know M's nailed him, and he won't until this is over – so far as he knows, the orders being sent over Smut-Net are legit…"

"…and he's relaying those orders to Daniel," Willow continued, smiling. "The Ministry's setting a trap for him."

"Yep," Buffy agreed. "We know where Osbourne is going to hit, the broadcast he's going to tap into to distribute his anti-smut virus. As far as he'll know, the Ministry will still be in the dark, but in reality we'll be right there ready to stop him, every active and reservist Bunny within range."

"C'mon – Willow, you must know," Faith said. "What television event is every single person on this planet with a libido of any kind going to tune into?"

"Exactly," Buffy smiled. "The Academy of Lesbian Picture Arts and Sciences awards show – the stars of every smutty, sexy and/or downright erotic TV show and movie from the last year are there, the planet's most gorgeous women, celebrating hot gay love in all its forms, and…the opening number is a live performance by Miss Kitty Fantastico."

"But…how are we going go get inside the show, if Miss Kitty is performing," Willow said, gasping for breath from the surprise. "I mean, her shows…there's only like five a year, and it's half a million dollars just to get onto the waiting list to see her!"

"I don't know how," Faith grinned, "but M pulled some very, very big strings. The Ministry has tickets to the Kitten Awards ceremony. The four of us, along with about thirty other Bunnies, will be right there to get the jump on Osbourne when he makes his move. And until he does, we've got front row seats to a Miss Kitty Fantastico performance."

"Get your gear," Buffy said, as she and Faith got up. "When the fake briefing comes in just agree to whatever it is and sign off. We'll be waiting in the Bunnywing." She scooped up the crop, and gave Faith a light swat across her leather-clad rear. "Next stop, Paris – the Moulin Rouge."

Willow faced the horde of demons, resolute. Ice magic swirled around her, whipping at the trailing ends of her Zann Esu robes, shielding her from the hail of arrows, barbs, spines, and spells being hurled her way. Raising her staff she cast a barrage of frozen orbs, which shattered with brutal force against her primary enemy, the towering demon lord, and unleashed clouds of shrapnel that tore through the lesser minions crowded around him. The demon howled, roared, cast its own ice magic, but slowly and surely Willow's assault brought it to its knees.

"Demon, meet oblivion," Willow smiled grimly, readying her staff for one final attack.

Before she could unleash it, a black-clad assassin darted in behind the demon and jammed her katar blades through its back, sapping the very last of its strength and sending its corpse toppling to the ground, while its spirit swirled up into the air.

"Hey!" Willow protested, throwing her Playstation controller at Faith. "My kill!" Faith ducked and chortled.

"Didn't see your name on its scaly demonic ass," she laughed. "Anyway, 'demon, meet oblivion'?"

"The one spoken line you get in the whole game, and it's an innuendo?" Willow scoffed.

"Oh, because 'evil be-ware' is so much better? What are you, straight out of the sorceress pep squad?"

"That's it!" Willow glared, snatching up her controller. "You, me, naked hell cows."

"Did she just say 'naked hell cows'?" Tara asked, looking over her shoulder from the co-pilot seat at the pair of agents furiously competing in the transport's passenger bay.

"It's some kind of game thing," Buffy shrugged, ignoring them. "Have you seen her get all butch like this before?"

"Only at driving," Tara said, omitting the butch-Willow situations she preferred to keep private.

"Yep, she can't stand to be out-driven," Buffy nodded. "Not that I think it's ever happened. Driving and gaming. Do you game?"

"Same," Buffy grinned. "She and Faith were at each other's throats the first couple of weeks we got teamed – personality clash – but then they discovered a mutual love of Playstation, and, well it kind of sublimated all their antagonism."

"Don't worry," Buffy reassured Tara. "They do this for half an hour, and then they get on great for the next week." She settled back in her flight couch, with her legs stretched out, ankles crossed on top of the control joke, keeping the aircraft on course.

"So, uh," she said after a quiet moment, punctuated only by a venomous promise from aft relating to where Faith's Shadow Warrior was going to get shoved.

"Uh?" Tara asked, looking up. Buffy was looking at her sidelong, not unkindly, but very much as if evaluating her.

"And the hand-holding," Buffy shrugged. "But yeah, she can find innuendo in anything and usually does, but she's still a pretty good judge of who's into who." She chuckled softly. "She had me pegged, like, a month before I realized it on my own – not that she shut up about me wanting her the whole time…Um, about Will? She's special."

"I'm not trying to be all stern-lecture-from-the-parents," Buffy grinned sheepishly, "but, you know, you can't not want to look out for her…I, uh, had a look at your record. You never took another partner, after Cordelia…left. One-off assignments for specific missions, but nothing ongoing."

"Yeah, she is that," Buffy chuckled, as a cry of 'Stacked Blizzard, hah!' echoed forward. "Um…Cordy…?"

"A mentor," Tara explained. "My friend…but not more than that. She could have been, but I…Our relationship was what it was, even though she was never, well, shy about the possibility, I don't think either of us really wanted more. I'm not sure sleeping together would have been 'more', anyway – we were closer than that already, but in a different way. I was learning from her – I needed that from her, not, well, anything else."

"Hopefully?" Tara sighed. "Enough to take her down." Buffy looked at her, surprised and then grinning.

Willow found Buffy and Faith lounging in the entry foyer, checking out the various guests as they arrived, and covertly signaling to the disguised Ministry agents among them. Buffy was outfitted in a version of Dorothy's blue and white dress from The Wizard of Oz, the skirt of which was cut quite a bit higher than the original, and the white shirt of which was missing entirely, giving Faith ample opportunity to glance across at more or less the entirety of her girlfriend's chest, barring the shoulder straps which were valiantly preserving what remained of the blonde's discretion. Faith, true to form, was wearing enough leather to comfortably outfit one tenth of a woman. She had a rather generous, and luxurious, scarlet cloak around her shoulders, but it apparently hadn't occurred to her to use it to cover herself.

"I feel ridiculous," the redhead grumbled, sitting down between the pair. "Couldn't I have been Lara Croft again?"

"You look hot," Faith quipped, nudging her amiably. The top half of Willow's outfit was a very smartly-tailored black jacket, over a white shirt and tie, topped off with a bowler hat that gave her a rather rakish, if slightly comical, charm. Below the waist, on the other hand, she wore black satin panties, charcoal-colored stockings, and black high heels. The contrast was eye-catching, to say the least.

"John Steed," Buffy told her, attempting a Kansas accent with rather erratic results. "A very sexy John Steed. Come on, you were always going on about how cool the Avengers looked, I figured you and Tara would make a good Steed and Peel." Willow perked up.

"I had the Ministry round up the costumes, it's all taken care of," Buffy assured her. Faith leaned back and caught her eye, behind Willow's back.

'Touch of Brimstone?' she mouthed. Buffy nodded and waggled her eyebrows; Faith grinned gleefully.

"I still feel silly," Willow complained, oblivious. "Who decided the Kitten Awards would be fancy dress?"

"You never know," Faith smirked. "Stuffy English dudes, got to watch out for them. One time I peeked into the guys' change room back at the Ministry driving course, saw 'Citroen' Giles putting his tweed suit on over a Frank-N-Furter costume."

"Nah, just wanted to see your face when I said it," Faith grinned at Willow, poking her in the side.

"Since when does Red Riding Hood wear leather lingerie and thighboots with spikes?" Willow pointed out.

"Where- oh." Willow's mouth went dry as she caught sight of Tara, maneuvering through the crowd, and gathering stares as she went, though she seemed not to notice – all her attention was on Willow. The redhead, with the help of a gentle shove from Buffy and Faith, stood to meet her, taking Tara in from bottom to top as she got her balance: high black boots, bare thighs, body hugged by satin and lace, shoulders and arms bare to elbow-length black satin gloves, and a leather collar around her neck with delicate silver spikes set into it. Over one arm was draped a serpent, which stirred slowly, tasting the air with its tongue; around her other wrist was a thin strap, a leash. Tara held out the other end of it to Willow and smiled.

"You, uh…wow," she said at last, a grin breaking over her face. "You make a great Queen of Sin."

"Thank you," Tara smiled, a bashful blush coloring her face, quite at odds with her unambiguously forward attire. "Buffy said you'd like it."

"Uh-huh," Willow replied, without really hearing the question. Tara laughed softly and took her arm, as the crowd began to make a general move in the direction of the main theatre.

"You look beautiful," she whispered in Willow's ear, as Faith and Buffy chuckled and headed off to their assigned positions. "And handsome – the perfect English gentleman."

"Of course," Tara winked. "You're a gorgeous woman, what could be more perfect?" It was Willow's turn to blush, and she leaned close, obviously seeking Tara's lips, only to pause and glance at the spikes protruding from the blonde's collar.

"Rubber," Tara assured her, poking one with a fingertip – it bent easily. "There's no way I'd put on anything that ruled out Willow- kisses-" She got that far before just such a kiss silenced her for a long moment.

"Good," Willow whispered as their lips parted. They settled into one of the queues for admission into the theatre, had their tickets checked, and waited to be seated. Willow glanced down in surprise as Tara's snake nudged her elbow.

"One of Anya's creations," Tara shook her head. "I think I might switch it off once we've got our seats, I don't think I really want to know what it's used for, aside from display."

An attendant – dressed as Tinkerbell, though with a skirt somewhat higher and neckline somewhat lower than Disney would probably have liked – led them to their table, in the centre of the main theatre. The room was set up as a cabaret restaurant, but instead of chairs each round table had a lounge chair behind it, just large enough for two people to sit side by side. The chairs' high backs, curling around either side, afforded a sense of privacy while still leaving an excellent view of the stage, which was done up like a jungle, with vines hanging thick from the branches of tropical palms.

"Here's your snuggle seat, enjoy the show," Tinkerbell said brightly. "I'll be your waiter tonight, so if you need anything…" She grinned a little wider. "…at all…" She winked, then vanished to find some other guests to see to.

"All units, check in," Willow and Tara both heard from their earpieces just as they were seating themselves.

"Shy Bunny in position," Tara echoed, grinning to herself as Willow nestled up to her side, their thighs pressed together as they shared the snuggle seat. There was a pause, then a familiar voice came over the line.

"Yep, you don't think I'd miss this show do you? Everyone's checked in and deployed, I'll be monitoring your quadrant of the theatre. If you see anything that looks like enemy activity, you're authorized to act as you see fit. We don't know how exactly Osbourne and Cordelia are going to hit the show, but we've got the control boxes locked down tight, so it's likely they'll try to come in through the theatre itself somewhere, where we can't just shut down access. Leather Bunny and Cheerleader Bunny are on your right flank, about five tables away, they're your immediate backup. If you need anything else call me, I'll coordinate with M."

"In person. Guess she wants a look at Miss Kitty too. We drew straws for assignments, and you girls got lucky – you're monitoring the stage. We can't rule out an attempt on Miss Kitty or one of her entourage as a decoy or, somehow, a precursor to Osbourne uploading his virus to the network. So you two, make sure we know every move that they make up there."

"Not a bad way to earn a living, huh? Word of warning though, I know you're both going to get all sorts of hot and bothered, but just remember to keep watching the stage while you're busy in each other's pants."

"'Anya!' indeed, I know what you two are going to be up to the moment the lights go down. I'm going to brief Leather and Cheerleader, maybe offer some suggestions for positions. Keep in touch!"

Willow and Tara looked at each other as the line went dead, and shared a bashful grin.

"It is," Tara agreed. "But we've got a job to do, so…I guess we'll just have to restrain ourselves."

"Yeah," Willow said. "Okay, no problem. We're sensible, mature adults. We can watch a Miss Kitty show, all snuggled up to each other, without it leading to…um, well…anything…"

"Definitely," Tara murmured, trying not to notice how her arm had worked its way around Willow's waist. "It's natural to get…aroused. We'll just save it, for later."

"I'm not saying anything," Tara said earnestly. "I'm just, you know…not saying no…"

"Eyes on stage," Willow repeated. They sat in silence for a moment, until Willow's hand slid from her lap to rest against Tara's thigh.

"Good," Tara smiled, relaxing against Willow's side as the redhead's hand began to slowly stroke up and down. "Very good…"

"Welcome to the seventy-eighth annual Academy of Lesbian Picture Arts and Sciences Awards! And now, to begin the evening…Miss Kitty Fantastico!"

The house lights dimmed, and spotlights lit the stage, revealing a jungle setting of moss-laden tree trunks, age-old tribal statues, and a plethora of vines and creepers draped over the floor, the scenery, hanging from branches, and disappearing into the darkness above the stage.

"I've got DVDs of all of Miss Kitty's shows," the blonde whispered. "I've never seen one with a jungle theme."

"Do you watch them a lot?" Willow teased, licking the side of Tara's neck below her collar, with one eye on the stage.

"Hmm…maybe," Tara grinned. "Are you claiming you don't have some Miss Kitty DVDs lying around at home?"

"I have them on my computer," Willow admitted. "High-def encoding with surround sound…"

One of the hanging vines on stage twitched, and a roar of applause broke out as a woman slid slowly down it from the hidden stage catwalk above, spinning slowly as the smooth vine slipped through her hands. Her dark skin gleamed like polished midnight, large liquid eyes shone from her proud face; her attire consisted entirely of leaves and thin vines, wrapped tightly around her hips and chest, and pure white body paint on her hands and feet, and running from beneath her jaw down the front of her torso.

The woman completed her descent to the stage and unwound her long arms from the vine, swaying sensuously to a quiet drumbeat that began to slowly build. Her hands freed, she ran them up the sides of her body, inhaling deeply, stretching her torso just like a cat in a ray of sunlight, drawing gasps from the spectators. Her hands dipped over her shoulders into her mane of silky black hair that slid over her arms as she lifted them like a waterfall. When she dropped her hands and shook her hair out, a pair of cat's ears had appeared, peeking out above her fringe, and with a playful wiggle of her hips a long black tail uncurled from her waist.

"Hello all you lovely people," she said, her exotic voice picked up by a hidden microphone and broadcast through the theatre's sound system, which was thrumming in earnest with the beat of primal drums. "I am Miss Kitty Fantastico…and it's my privilege to welcome you to this special night. I'd like to introduce you to my kittens…"

Five silhouettes appeared at the rear of the stage, swaying through the creepers, and spotlights shone on them one by one as they were introduced.

"Say hello to Persian," Miss Kitty said, as a dusky, shapely beauty danced forward, gyrating with the practiced sensual motions of a contortionist. She wore only veils, whisper-thin, edged with gold weave and supported by tiny gold chains – one over her face, two covering her breasts, two others from her hips, one in front and one behind – but they were all but transparent, and hid nothing of the beauty of her face and body.

"Tabby." A compact woman strode forwards, whipping the vines out of her way. Her costume consisted solely of scraps of leather and fishnet sewn together, wrapped around her arms and legs, leaving her torso boldly bars except for the punkish tattoos adorning her hips, stomach and the tops of her breasts. Her hair was short, styled aggressively and dyed a striking orange, and her gaze was fearless.

"Siamese." A tall, slender Asian woman appeared next, slinking forward with feline grace, wrapped in a tight, near-transparent dress that covered her from neck to ankle, yet revealed every curve of her. She raised her breathtakingly pretty face to the audience, lifted her chin, and gave a playful wink.

"Lynx." There was a fallen tree trunk blocking the fourth figure's path to the front of the stage; she leapt gracefully onto it, paused a moment in a predatory crouch, then vaulted down to the stage floor and stood upright. She was blonde, her skin tanned brown, and her costume was a bikini made of ragged imitation skins sewn together with cords made from twisted vines – the result was skimpy in the extreme, and hid nothing of her powerful physique.

"And making her debut tonight," Miss Kitty smiled, "give a big welcome to Cheshire."

"Solo yachting around the world," Willow confirmed. "All the Miss Kitty message boards were going nuts predicting who the new kitten would be. Not that I obsess about online forums, or anything…"

"Of course not," Tara chuckled. Willow silenced her by dragging a fingertip over her bottom lip, leaving it quivering.

True to her stage name, Cheshire's smile was the first thing to appear, somehow shining brightly in an otherwise dark area of the stage. Then the spotlights opened fully to reveal a fit, curvaceous brunette wearing striped lilac and burgundy stockings all the way up to her hips, and similarly-colored gloves that reached her shoulders. The rest of her body was naked, save for an ornament dangling from her pierced left nipple: a silver crescent that, as she sauntered to her position at the front of the stage, was revealed to be, naturally, a wide grin.

"As you can see," Miss Kitty said, circling her kittens, reaching out now and then to scratch the back of a neck or pat a firm buttock, "we have many kinds of beauty up here…and I see many more out there," she grinned, waving a hand to encompass the audience. "Remember, my friends, there's only one person who needs to be turned on by you, and that's yourself. Enjoy yourselves, experience yourselves, be happy with yourself and love yourself…because love comes easy, once you love yourself. And just in case any of you are wondering what I mean by loving myself, partly it's a state of mind, and partly, well…"

Her five kittens gathered around her, Lynx and Persian, and Siamese and Tabby pairing to support a foot each as Cheshire gave Miss Kitty a boost, so that they could lift her up high, like a goddess on a pedestal.

"…just watch," she smirked, licking her lips, and in a quick, startling motion she tore off her makeshift costume, as the stage erupted with a dozen concealed torches bursting into flaming life, and the music thundered with drumbeats, and a frenzied tribal chanting.

The kittens danced apart; Miss Kitty executed a backflip landed in a crouch between them, joining them in their dance without pause. Each of the six danced in their own style, from balletic to tribal to modern, but as they circled near each other their styles meshed for a moment, becoming synchronized duets, before splitting off again into individual routines. Their hands roamed absolutely everywhere over their bodies, and reached for each other, but never quite touched; as Miss Kitty gyrated among them they all reached for her her, stretching their arms towards her, craning their necks, mouths open and lips trembling for a taste of her skin, but always she was a fraction of an inch too far away, half a second too fast to be caught, and the kittens could only watch in choreographed need as she touched herself the way they sought to.

Willow and Tara hugged each other tightly as they watched, entranced. Tara felt Willow's hand on her thigh clutch, hot and sweaty against her skin, and suppressed a moan.

"I think Siamese has a figure too close to yours not to be giving me ideas," Tara admitted. Willow, who had been following Tabby, glanced at the Asian kitten.

Willow slid her hand up Tara's thigh as the blonde opened her legs a fraction wider. Her palm cupped Tara's mound, feeling her heat through her satin panties.

"Yes," Tara nodded slightly. Willow rubbed her gently, feeling her whole body respond.

"You don't mind that we're…here?" the redhead asked, her voice trembling, seeking one last reassurance before giving in to what she absolutely wanted.

"This…is about pleasure," Tara gasped, staring at the stage. "So for me…it's about you. I want you to…oh god…I want you to be part of me, for this…" She risked a quick glance at Willow, just enough to see her eyes before returning to her duty, watching the performers.

"I want it too," Willow murmured, finding Tara's hand in her lap and holding it firmly. Her free hand slipped up, beneath the folds of light silk draped over her torso, and then down again, finding the waist of her panties and carefully slipping beneath them.

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S.M.U.T. Bunnies

by Chris Cook

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