Phoenix

by Cynamin


Part Thirteen

Buffy leaned comfortably into Angel’s embrace. The warmth of his body, delightfully unfamiliar, drove back the chill of their cell. That’s what this was, of course, a cell. Buffy had not doubt about that. Whoever had put them there had taken care to knock her out before she could put up a fight. She never even caught a glimpse of them.

She wasn’t thinking about that right now. Her chance – their chance – to fight would come. There was nothing they could do until the opportunity presented itself. No, instead she was taking comfort in Angel’s presence as best she could. She listed to the steady beat of his heart and the soft whisper of his breath. His arm was loose but comforting around her shoulders. She wished this could go on forever. Well, under better conditions, of course. She was afraid it wouldn’t continue, though.

“Angel?” she asked very softly.

She felt him shift slightly and knew he was looking at her. “What?” he asked, sounding distracted.

She swallowed hard. “How much… What do you remember?”

Angel said nothing for what felt like an extremely long time. “Buffy,” he said with a sigh. “It’s…I don’t know.”

“You’re confused,” Buffy said, half in question. She knew he remembered some; she could feel it. She didn’t know, though, whether this would be a miraculous recovery like they talked about in the movies, or just another step on a long road. Buffy was hoping for the former, but she was betting on the later.

Buffy could feel Angel nod. “Yes, I’m confused, “ he acknowledged. “As for what I remember…I couldn’t give you the story of my life at the moment, but at least I know I actually had a life now.” He chuckled weakly. “At least, I know I had a life once.”

Buffy couldn’t help but smile slightly at that. At least, even in such dire circumstances, he’d managed to keep his sense of humor. She didn’t know where things stood between them, though. “Do you remember…” she began hesitantly.

She never got to finish her sentence, as the door suddenly opened with a loud groan. With her eyes fully adjusted to the total darkness of the cell, the sudden light blinded her. She scrambled to her feet, instantly ready to fight against the assailants she couldn’t see. Angel stood quickly beside her.

“Well, isn’t that sweet,” an older male voice said sarcastically. “Restrain her quickly!” he ordered, and Buffy felt herself grabbed from behind.

She struggled against her captors. An elbow connected with someone behind her, and she heard a grunt of pain. She felt a flash of triumph before someone else grabbed her, tighter than the first.

“Hold her!” the same man as before yelled as she struggled. Suddenly she felt a needle dig painfully into her upper arm, and then her whole arm seemed to go numb. The person holding her relaxed.

Even as her vision adjusted to the light, she began to feel woozy and lethargic. “What have you done to me?” she asked thickly.

“Simply a mild tranquilizer…made just for you,” the man said confidently. “Can’t be too careful. Don’t worry; it will wear off soon enough. Of course, you’ll be dead by then….” He smiled coldly at her before turning to the men – his flunkies, she supposed – who stood with him. “Bring them both!”

Buffy’s eyes adjusted quickly after that, even as the drug took its toll. Through her blurry vision, she could see Angel being led out before her. He was being held by one disgustingly muscular man and not fighting. She wanted to yell at him to try and break free but couldn’t. Then, slowly, he turned around to look at her, and something in his gaze made Buffy’s words die in her throat.

He gave her a reassuring smile, and Buffy felt herself smiling in return. Whoever their captors were, they had no idea that Angel had maintained his supernatural strength! He turned his back to her again before his gaze could be noticed.

They were escorted into a large room with high ceilings. The room was empty of furnishings, except for a high backed chair facing a large wooden pole secured to the floor. Buffy had the strongest sense of déjà vu, and being burned at the stake really wasn’t a memory she looked forward to revisiting. There were people moving about the room, some in street clothes, some in ceremonial robes, all of them human as far as Buffy could tell.

Near the center of the room, two people were arguing vehemently. The first was an older man, his hair just beginning to go gray, wearing an expensive looking business suit. A nervous looking younger, smaller man who had ‘flunky’ written all over him hovered behind him carrying a length of red fabric. He was being ignored. Instead, the older man screamed at an elderly woman facing him. Buffy tried not to show too much interest as she listened to the argument.

“This is no good!” he yelled. “He was supposed to be out of the way! Instead, I’ve got a Slayer to deal with, too!”

The woman was completely unfazed. Calmly she replied, “I said he’d be helpless. I didn’t say he couldn’t find outside help.” Buffy realized in surprise that though her hair was completely white, Buffy had no clue how old this woman was after all.

Even as she listened to the argument, Buffy found herself watching Angel’s reaction. He’d paled considerably as soon as he’d seen the two of them. He no longer looked at them, but stood stiffly in his captor’s grasp. Buffy wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but it was taking all of her strength at this point to remain standing.

A pointed cough sounded in Buffy’s ear. One of the guards holding Buffy cleared his throat noisily to gain the suited man’s attention.

The strange argument stopped abruptly. Buffy could not help but notice their vastly differing reactions. The man gave a self-satisfied grin and walked towards them possessively. The woman, on the other hand, looked shocked – even possibly alarmed – at seeing them. Or, more specifically, at seeing Angel; her eyes were locked upon him.

“Good. They’re right on time,” the man said, sounding immensely pleased with himself.

The woman came up behind him, looking very worried. “What have you done?” she asked urgently.

The man laughed. “It’s times like this, Jade, that I wonder if you really support us.” There was a hint of threat in his voice.

The woman – Jade, apparently – looked offended at that. “Have I failed to help you yet, Marion?” she asked disdainfully.

Anger flashed in the man’s eyes. “That’s Hunter…or Mr. Hunter… to you,” he said dangerously. “Unless you want to get the next space on the stake. I’m sure the Slayer would love some company.”

Buffy felt her heart clench in fear. I won’t go through this again.

Distantly, she heard Angel yell, “No!” Glancing at him, she saw him begin to struggle.

“Restrain him now!” Marion…Mr. Hunter…barked.

One of the guards released Buffy and she found her weakened muscles weren’t as capable of holding her as she thought. She crumpled to the floor, and no one bothered to help her up again. Instead they were to busy restraining Angel, who fought valiantly against them. He had knocked out the single guard that had been holding him and now faced off against another. One of the guards in the midst of the struggle managed to fling Angel into the room’s only chair. He sat down hard and suddenly did not move.

The room fell silent when the fighting stopped. Hunter laughed lightly. “It works like a charm,” he said, staring at Angel. Angel was glaring at him angrily, but neither moved nor said a word. “Your magic never ceases to amaze me, Jade.”

Jade, however, looked nowhere near as pleased. “You never told me what you were using the chair for,” she said angrily.

The suited man gave her a pointed look.

The white haired woman continued unfazed. “You are a fool, Mr. Hunter,” she said, and his name took on a mocking tone. “I warned you before of the consequences of killing this Warrior.”

“And we won’t,” he replied calmly. “No, he’s going to live a long, healthy, mortal life. The Slayer, however…”

Angel looked furious, and his struggle to move was evident on his face.

“Kill the Slayer and another is called,” Jade pointed out.

The man chuckled. “For once I am ahead of you,” he said. “This Slayer has already died once. Her replacement is in an L.A. prison awaiting trial for murder. There are those that will make sure that her trial takes a long time, and that she gets put away for life. Kill this Slayer, and we are free to do as we please for, oh, fifty years at least.”

“And you are free to, oh, take over the world,” Jade replied, completely deadpan.

Mr. Hunter smiled. “Of course,” he replied. “You have no idea of the kind of status I will gain by being the one to kill this Slayer. That’s all that really matters.” He looked to his unoccupied guards. “Tie her up!” he ordered, gesturing towards Buffy.

The two conscious guards hauled her unceremoniously to her feet. They did not even take care to make sure she was standing before they half dragged, half carried her across the huge room. She couldn’t feel her feet, but she could feel her back when they shoved her against the pole. They were quite efficient with the ropes, tying her up until she couldn’t move regardless of the sedative.

Finally allowing his flunky to put his robe over his shoulders, Hunter wore a triumphant smile. Shrugging into his sleeves, he looked at Angel. “And you will get a front row seat, my fried,” he said mockingly.

Angel’s eyes betrayed everything his tongue could not. It was pure anger, and beneath that a hint of old and new fear. Buffy couldn’t interpret everything he was feeling, but she could understand it. Their gazes met, and Angel’s eyes begged her to come up with a solution. Buffy, terrified, knew her own gaze gave no answers as they began to pile the wood around her.


On to Part Fourteen

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