Author: Chris Cook
Rating: NC-17
Copyright: 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.

Ministry Safe House
Undisclosed Location, France
1300 Hours

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 favourite 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."

"Uh-huh... how did it get dropped?"

"I, um, removed it, last night - remember? To make room for, uh, Tarahand..."

"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.

"Why," she wondered pleasantly, "are you dressed as a French maid?"

"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.

"Mmm, déjeurner," she grinned. "Merci, mademoiselle."

"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?"

"Mmmforget 'bout 'em," Willow mumbled into her thigh. Tara grinned deviously.

"The jam on toast?" she wondered.

"Uh-uh," Willow shook her head.

"I suppose, then," Tara smirked, "we won't be needing the coffee either?"

"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.

"I forgot what you were distracting me from?" Willow said hopefully.

"That's better," Tara nodded.

"Oh wait," Willow teaser, "I might remember..."

"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.

"Hmm... does Tara get a say in the eating issue?"

"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 encyclopaedia. '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 encyclopaedia... 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.

"Is that 'adorable' as in 'silly but smiling?'" she asked.

"Silly plus Willow equals adorable," Tara explained. "That's from my encyclopaedia." 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.

"You can't spell 'frolicking' without 'lick'," Tara chuckled.

"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.

"Something Willowy?" Willow echoed.

"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?"

"I'm in no hurry," Tara smiled serenely.

"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."

Tara nodded, and gazed at Willow through misty eyes.

"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."

"Sounds it," Willow agreed.

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

"I have a crossword pen," she said once her fit of giggles had subsided.

"A crossword pen?"

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

"I'd love to collect the full set of Willowy things," Tara said with a wink.

"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."

"Uh-huh," Tara nodded.

"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."

"Efficient," Willow noted.

"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.

"Ohhh... uh, indirectly, yes, I suppose it does," Tara admitted.

"I like this idea," Willow whispered, "pray continue."

"Is that 'pray' as in prayer, or 'prey' with an 'e'?" Tara teased.

"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.

"Oooh!" Tara squealed.

"Are we getting to the panty-removing part?" Willow asked innocently.

"Faster than you think," Tara replied, taking a deep breath.

"I think pretty fast."

"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.

Ministry Safe House Grounds, Woods
Undisclosed Location, France
1500 Hours

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.

"Can I ask you something?" Willow spoke up.

"Uh-huh."

"This is like a date, isn't it?"

"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.

"Maybe a little, but only in a very agreeable way," Tara noted.

"That's okay then," Willow smiled. "Tara?"

"Yes?"

"Do you kiss on a first date?"

Tara laughed softly.

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

"Oh? What circumstances are those?" Willow enquired, all curiosity.

"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.

"Mmm, thank you. And if you do kiss me?" she asked.

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

"So," Willow said thoughtfully, "the difference, in fact, is just-"

"A kiss, from you," Tara nodded. "A good enough reason for anything."

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.

"You really think?" she asked.

"I really think," Tara nodded, leaning down to kiss her.

"Mmm, swoon," Willow murmured happily in the aftermath.

"That cherry tasted good," Tara said to herself.

"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.

"Oh, wait!" Tara stopped her. "That's a surprise... if you're interested."

"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."

"Are you kidding?" Willow asked incredulously.

"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."

"Really," Tara deadpanned, with a hint of a devilish grin.

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

"So you'd like to be surprised then?" Tara asked.

"I would without question love to be surprised," Willow nodded.

"Okay... get up, and turn around for a minute."

"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.

"Okay, don't turn around until I say," Tara called after her.

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, tantalisingly available, before glancing down her body -

"Um," she said, stifling a laugh.

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

"You..." Willow tried to speak.

"Willow?" Tara asked.

"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 humour 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?"

"Mmm, yes," Willow said in a whisper.

"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."

"Yes..."

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

"Yes..."

"Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?"

"Not me," Willow admitted.

"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 fantasising about a certain sexy wolf," Willow replied.

"Heh, who's aroused by the Big Bad Wolf?" Tara sang softly.

"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.

"Please," Willow begged.

"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 colour, 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.

"Please," Willow responded without hesitation.

"Pretty please?" Tara teased.

"Pretty please," Willow replied, as soon as the words had left Tara's lips.

"With a cherry-"

"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.

"Like Big Bad Wolf?" Tara groaned into Willow's ear.

"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.

"Willow," Tara whispered into the redhead's ear.

"...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.

"Oh... god... Tara... I'm-" Willow gasped, spasming.

"I know," Tara breathed, "I feel..."

"Ohhh! God..."

"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.

"Oh, yes," the redhead murmured, "yes yes yes, I'm ready sweetie, please yes-"

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 realised 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 neighbourhood 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 favourite 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?"

"Please?" Tara asked.

Ministry Safe House
Undisclosed Location, France
1630 Hours

"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 customised 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.

"That's..." Tara whispered.

"One of hers?" Willow asked.

"Straight from M," Faith nodded.

"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."

"Wh-what?" Tara stammered, baffled. "We're supposed to ignore orders?"

"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."

"But why?" Willow wondered.

"A mole," Tara frowned. "There's a mole in the Ministry."

"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."

"What is it?" Tara asked.

"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?"

"The... the Kitten Awards," Willow breathed.

"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."

Willow and Tara's jaws dropped.

"What?" Willow managed to find her voice first.

"Seriously?" Tara followed.

"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."

"Oh, my, god," Willow breathed, taking Tara's hand and staring at her.

"Once in a lifetime," she agreed.

"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."