Buffy awoke to white light and sterile walls. God, I hate hospitals. Her entire body ached, and for a second she hadn’t the faintest clue what had happened. Had she been in a fight? She sure felt like it...
The door collapsing under the combined weight from outside... A swarm of men dressed in black... Metal rods to stun and beat...
Buffy sat up with a yell of unsuppressed fury, only to find that sometime when she had been unconscious her clothes had been removed. That only made her angrier, and she grabbed the sheet off of her bed and wrapped it around herself. “What the hell is going on here!?”
The door swept open abruptly, sliding into the doorframe. Huh. Star Trek. An older man with a square face and black hair streaked with white entered the room along with several younger men and one woman. They were all attired exactly the same in black jumpsuits with matching insignia, though the younger people carried weapons where the distinguished man did not. There was a look in his eyes that Buffy decidedly did not like. “Ms. Summers,” he said in greeting.
Buffy didn’t care how congenial he wanted to be. She was captured and she wasn’t going to have anything to do with it. Of course, she couldn’t exactly fight while holding a sheet around herself. “Who are you?” she demanded. “Where am I, why am I here, and where’s Angel?”
The man held out his hands in a placating gesture that did not at all match with the look in his eyes or the guards at his side. “Calm down, Ms. Summers,” he suggested.
“I will not calm down!” Buffy yelled. “I demand to know what you have done with me, where are my clothes, and what you have done with Angel!”
The man’s expression went dark. “You will calm down or I will bring someone here to sedate you,” he said coldly.
Buffy glared at him, but said nothing.
“Much better,” he said with a smile. “Why don’t you take a seat?”
“I’d rather stand,” Buffy said tightly.
“As you will,” he acknowledged. “You are not what we expected, Ms. Summers.”
“Don’t Ms. Summers me,” Buffy said. “It’s Buffy. And you haven’t answered my questions.”
“I’m Mel Castor,” the man said calmly.
“And...my clothes?”
“Your clothes were removed only so that our doctors could do a physical examination, to ensure that you were in good health and were uninjured in your retrieval. Aside from...”
“My retrieval?!” Buffy snapped. What a word for abduction!
He continued, unfazed by her outburst. “Aside from being a bit malnourished, you seem in remarkably good health for the time you spent below. I assure you, we did not intend....”
“Wait a second,” Buffy interrupted him yet again. “You keep saying ‘we’ and ‘us.’ Who are you people?”
He looked surprised. “Buffy Summers, you are in the headquarters of the Watchers’ Organization.”
Buffy suppressed a groan. She already had guessed that, actually, from the insignia the guards were wearing – the same insignia as the two men who had tried to capture the young psychic. “Watchers,” she couldn’t help but mumble. Then a thought occurred to her, and her apprehension grew ten fold. “Where’s Angel?” she demanded once again.
“He is our guest,” Mr. Castor said.
“Same as me?” Buffy said more than a bit snidely.
“No, not the same as you,” he said, a cold glint in his eye. “I’m afraid his freedom in this facility is...quite restricted.”
And hers wasn’t? They were both prisoners. “Where is he?” Buffy insisted.
“He is unharmed, I assure you.”
“Yeah, well I don’t buy your assurances, Castor,” Buffy snapped. “You can bring me some clothes and take me too him now...or you’ll need to sedate me to stop me from feeding you your spleen.”
From the way the Watcher paled, Buffy guessed he believed her.
Angel blinked at the unrelieved brightness of the room where he awoke. He did not move, taking stock of his surroundings instead. The room was completely white – ceiling, floor, and all four walls without variation. There were no windows and no immediately obvious door. All there was in the room was a simple cot which there was barely enough space to accommodate. There was neither blanket nor pillow, just a slightly thicker amount of padding at one end of the hard mattress.
‘This can’t be good.’
Sitting up, Angel winced. He hurt, but whether it was from the beating he’d taken, the slight pain he’d felt upon waking the last time now magnified, or something else entirely, he hadn’t the faintest clue. He moved slowly – standing, stretching, trying to make the pain less. It wasn’t too bad. It didn’t quite go away, but he could deal with it.
Now, if only there was some way to make sure his captors weren’t going to make his pain in some way worse....
Their captors. Angel suddenly flashed to the scene at his home, at the group of uniformed humans that had invaded it. They hadn’t been just after him. They’d been after Buffy.
“BUFFY!”
There was no response. Not even his own echo – the small room absorbed whatever sound he made. There was no sound at all – it was as if the world did not exist beyond the four walls. Magically sound-proofed, perhaps?
Angel growled. He needed out of this prison, now. He paced the room off, inspecting the walls. There was no evidence of how he got in here whatsoever. He could find no hint of a door – no seem or change in the walls’ texture. Paced the room again...eight feet by eight feet. He stood on the cot to inspect the ceiling. Seamless as well. He inspected the floor, and even crawled under the cot to look there when he found it was bolted to the floor.
Nothing.
Futilely, Angel pounded a fist into one unforgiving wall. “BUFFY!” he yelled again.
Absolutely nothing.
Time in the cell crawled by, marked only by Angel’s continued pounding on the walls and inspections of the room. Nothing changed, except that Angel’s hands were beginning to feel bruised. He yelled for his captors until his throat hurt and still there was nothing.
He sat on the cot for a moment and rested his head in his hands. He was tired; exhausted really. But mostly, he was sick and tired of waiting.
Abruptly, something was different. Just a tiny sound, but it was the first one Angel had not made himself since he awoke here. It was barely anything at all, but it was deafening in contrast.
His head shot up and he looked around wildly. There was nothing at first, and then a section of the wall in front of him...changed. The color was slightly different, it seemed to shimmer, and then...it just wasn’t there. He stood and prepared himself to fight whatever or whoever might come through that hole. The corridor beyond told him nothing – just sounds of life where there hadn’t been any before.
Angel was not ready for what actually came through that opening.
“Angel!”
His arms were suddenly full of Buffy, and then the area beyond the cell was silent once again. The opening was gone.
“I was so worried,” she was babbling. “They said you were okay, but I didn’t believe them. I was sure they had done something terrible, and after everything that has happened....”
Angel just held her tightly, feeling immense relief despite their continued captivity. “I’m okay,” he said softly. “I was worried about you. I thought....”
“I’m okay,” she replied, looking up at him at last. She smiled weakly.
Angel was content just to hold her for a moment. “What’s going on?” he asked at last. “Where are we?”
Buffy frowned in disgust and anger – not at Angel, but at their captors. “Watchers’ Headquarters,” she said.
Angel frowned in response. “What do they want with you...us?”
“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “He might have been about to tell me, but I kind of wouldn’t listen until I saw you were okay.”
Angel couldn’t help but smile slightly. “Be careful with them,” he admonished.
“Yeah, I know,” she agreed. “They’re watching.”
“Of course.” It only made sense that they would be. “They’ll try and use me against you,” he warned her. Since he wasn’t already dead, and he was locked here, it also only made sense that he was essentially a hostage.
“I know,” Buffy said softly. “I won’t...do anything stupid or...anything I wouldn’t do otherwise, I promise.”
Angel nodded, and kissed Buffy very lightly on the top of her head.
“So,” she said after a moment. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
Angel tried for his best teasing smile. “I’ve had worse,” he said.
Buffy’s lips quirked. “I’m sure.” She held him tightly. “I will be back, you know. No matter what.”
“I know,” he agreed softly.
Buffy stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. “We will get out of here,” she whispered in his ear.
Angel didn’t know if their hidden observers could hear them or not, but he didn’t care. “I don’t doubt it,” he said.
And he didn’t doubt it in the least. They would get out of here.
The self-satisfied Watcher was waiting for her when she emerged from the unrelieved prison cell. “Well?” he asked in a condescending tone he made no effort to conceal. “May I consider my spleen intact?”
Buffy glared at him. “For now.”
“I assured you that he was unharmed,” the elder Watcher said. “I assume you will take us at our word from now on.”
“Not likely,” Buffy muttered.
The man’s false congeniality faded at that. “We are aware of your history with the Watcher’s Council,” he said sharply. “Such insubordination will not be tolerated. We will take...whatever means necessary to ensure your cooperation.”
Buffy easily read the faintly veiled threat against Angel. She faced him stiffly, barely restraining her anger. “Why don’t you just cut the crap and tell me what you want from me already,” she said through clenched teeth.
Mr. Castor looked at her in surprise. “Ms. Summers,” he said, his eyes wide. “Were it not for us, you would not be here at all.”
Buffy looked at the Watcher in complete and total shock. “What the hell do you mean by that?” she nearly snarled.
He looked surprised at her tone. “Ms. Summers,” he said with infuriating patience, “several decades ago a prophecy came into our possession...”
Buffy looked at him angrily. “You’re not helping yourself, starting that way,” she said tensely.
He glared at her. “It spoke of a great war, and a great army,” he continued as if she had not spoken. “A strong warrior from ages past will stand at their forefront. Will be their battle cry. A great warrior.”
Buffy’s eyes went wide. “You think that’s me?” she squeaked.
“We used magic to call through time for the greatest Slayer in history.” He smiled coldly...falsely. “We got you.”
Buffy bit back her automatic retort at the condescension in his tone. She had no love for the Watchers and did not care what they thought of her. “So you brought me though time to...what, exactly?”
“Why, to lead our army against the forces of darkness, of course.”
Buffy blinked at him. “Your army?”
“Of course.”
Buffy just looked at the Watcher in disgust. “So, you took me from my home, dumped me in a completely new time, left my friends to fend for themselves, and expect me to work for you?” she asked, shocked.
“We miscalculated,” he said apologetically. “We expected you to come to the site of the spell, not to the site of your death. It took us quite some time to track you down. I am sorry you had to live for so long in the city below.”
“Sorry?” Buffy snapped. She could only imagine.... What would have become of Angel if she had not found him? “How dense are you? I liked it there! I’m needed there!”
Mel Castor’s expression went dark. “To succeed here, with us, will help the entire world.”
Buffy felt manipulated...and furious. “You couldn’t have found some better way?” she exclaimed. “You had to kidnap me and Angel? You couldn’t have, say, asked?”
“It was necessary.” His tone held no consideration for any other point of view.
“Like hell!” Buffy snapped.
“Ms. Summers!” he said, no longer stoic. “You try my patience, child. Do not forget that you are here at our sufferance.”
“I don’t care! I did not ask for this!”
“You are needed.” His tone showed some unexplained distaste at the idea.
“Are you sure?” Buffy pointed out angrily. “I don’t know much about prophecies, but that was one of the vaguest I’ve ever heard. What makes you think I am your ‘warrior’?”
He looked at her like she was a flighty student who had not been listening to the entire lecture. “You are – contrary to our records, apparently – the strongest Slayer who has ever lived.”
Buffy could not help but roll her eyes. “Yes, but you said warrior. Not Slayer.”
Now he looked at Buffy like she’d lost her mind. “The Slayer is a warrior against the darkness.”
Buffy felt like she was throwing herself against a wall. “A warrior, yes, but not the only...” At the look on his face she gave up her pointless tirade. “Tell you what,” Buffy challenged. “You let Angel go, and I will...work with you.”
He glared at her. “Or you could work for us and we will...not take any unfortunate actions that are fitting a vampire.”
Buffy’s stomach dropped at the most blatant threat Castor had made yet. “I can be quite...difficult,” she said.
“So your records reflect,” he said almost snidely. “You have nothing but yourself that we want,” he explained. “We, on the other hand....”
Buffy tried to hold onto her defiance, but it was fading in spite of her convictions. “You can not keep me away from him,” she said.
He gave her a self-satisfied smile. “Do as we say, and you may...assure yourself of his well being as often as you like.”
Buffy glared at him...but could think of nothing to say.
If anything, his smile grew. “First though, tomorrow, you shall meet our Slayer.”
Buffy nearly stomped back to the room she had been given. She did not care how childish she looked. “Thrill,” she muttered sarcastically.
Her mind, however, was saying something else entirely.
Damn it, Angel, you were right. But I will not let them keep you as a pawn. There will be a way out of this!
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