She felt soft. No that wasn't right. Whatever she was laying on felt soft, and comforting, barely imprinting on her bruised cheek. A groan escaped her lips. There wasn't a single part of her body that didn't ache. After Drake had socked her into unconsciousness, they'd taken her down here and from the feel of her ribs, taken the punishment upon themselves. Buffy ignored the ratcheting fear which flew her. What else had they done to her? Her fingers swept over her thighs, a sigh escaping her as she realized that they hadn't gone that far yet. By typical scenarios in her training, Buffy knew that it was inevitable.
But then she had trained for it. As much as anyone can.
Fear began to rise within her as she looked hard around the room. That man… Drake wasn't going to leave her alone. She just knew it. I have to get out of here.
Unable to stifle her pained gasps, she struggled into a sitting position. Her vision was blurred in the left eye, and ghosting her hand over the skin softly, she could feel the swelling. Too many punches to the face had rocked her in the three days she had been here. Was it only three days? There had been no way to keep track of time ever since they took her with the rest of the girls. And she was terribly alone now. The room was bare besides the furniture and homely implements, nothing to suggest the time or date.
Buffy thought back to the day she had been taken.She'd hated Masters as much as any of the other girls, but their company had made the undercover role more bearable. Slowly over the course of a year, she had placed herself in a position within Masters' private whores, where she could accurately gather information. She had been on the verge of revealing the mole working for the family, when they had burst through the doors. Any men that had been with them at the time, had been shot dead. Whistler had fallen on top of her, his still beating heart flooding the ground with blood, as Buffy had struggled to escape the man's weight. He had been one of the few guards who didn't try to bully favors out of the girls. He was my friend. Buffy had been certain, as the gang of men entered, that she'd been betrayed, but like the other girls who were a part of Masters' private stock, she'd merely nodded and obeyed every order.
And then they had noticed her. He had seen her. His face was a maze of sharp angles, a beaky nose shadowing the thin mouth which was twisted into a grim smile. But his eyes. They were what had truly scared her. Twin pools of inky black had focused onto her thin frame and the scantily clothes.
He had looked directly at her, through her.
Despite the many blondes that continued to walk past him, he'd caught her. Fear raced down her spine. Had they gotten to him? Was he safe? She had lifted her feet as though to run, before forcing herself to stay still. If I run, it will only make it worse.
"It's her." He had shouted, shoving the other girls out of the way. When no one reacted, he pulled his gun from its holster. "Move you fucking idiots. Drake wants her." His fat finger flicked the safety switch as he pointed it to aim directly at her. It wasn't a shot that would kill on impact, her training told her that she could move to the left and minimize the damage. But it was enough. There would be no way she could survive for more than two hours if he did shoot.
I have to remember the mission. He needs me to stay alive. Buffy raised her hands into the air, keeping her head down. The less of a threat she appeared, the more likely that they wouldn't hurt her too badly. At least that was what she had hoped before a swift jab to the side of her head had knocked her to the ground.
They'd dragged her into a car, the bullying leader of the group, laughing as she struggled to right herself. Her vision was still blurred then, but she could remember them staring at her, the insignia of a cross on their shoulders, burning into her memory. Angel had never mentioned these men before. Neither had her source on the outside. What did the cross even mean? Sucking in deep breaths as another fist to her stomach rocked her, Buffy decided to keep her head down. Whoever they were, there was a very real chance that she would be killed. You can look later Buffy she thought to herself. Her hands continued to shake with adrenaline as they came to a stop, her feet finally finding a purchase on the hard ground. The hard punch to her face was the only thing Buffy could focus on as a blindfold covered her eyes and she was thrown bodily into a car.
Looking up to the high ceiling, Buffy shook her head to erase the memory. It would do her no good here to think of how she could've escaped. Only the present was important. They still didn't think she was a threat, having not bothered to tie her hands again after the earlier scene with Drake.
Hot tears cascaded down her cheeks as she remembered staring into brown eyes so similar to Angel's and yet cold. Almost soulless. Where was he? He had promised in the days before she'd been discovered, to look out for her, to protect her.
The only one who can protect me is myself. Buffy swiped a hand across her face, ignoring the pain. When had she become so weak? The old Buffy would never had relied on a criminal to help her out of a situation; even one as dire as this.
She'd been trained by the best and had far exceeded the expectations of both her tutors and fellow agents. She was renowned for her ability to infiltrate and organize the demise of criminal organisations. Years of training forced her to stand. This would not break her. They could not break the slayer.
An unconscious smile flitted across her lips as she thought of the nickname.
The room was locked but it had chairs and even a table set with utensils. She moved slowly on her feet, one hand grasping the edge of soft luxurious leather sofa for balance. It was a definite upgrade from the cells below. Her heart went out to the girls who were still suffering, most likely because of her. There was no chance that she could help them, unless she had back up.
But did anyone know that she was even here?
Another problem. She knew that she needed all of her strength to be able to get out of here. The only difficulty was that she had no idea how to escape. Or what she would even do if she managed to find her way out.
God Buffy, get a hold of yourself. Got to remember that you are the badass federal agent not them!
Grabbing a butter knife from the table, Buffy forced it into the keyhole and began to twist. A full minute passed before she heard the audible click.
Success!
Clenching the knife in her fist, Buffy peered out into the corridor. There was no one. Barely able to contain herself, she slipped out.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Hunter moved into the full light of the hallway, hand resting easily on a still holstered gun. He couldn't help but smile at the surprised look on the small woman's face. He unconsciously reached out a hand towards her. Her face was badly bruised, so much that the poor girl could only see out of one eye.
Buffy wasn't having any of it. They must think I'm a fool. Before the tall man's hand could touch her, she backed away. She didn’t remember him but that didn't mean anything in a place like this. Everyone was out to get her as far as she was concerned. His face was plain in the poorly lit hallway, a hard pair of eyes peering down at her from what seemed like the ceiling. He was even taller than Angel.
"Just let me go. I promise not to say anything." Even her voice sounded weak and Buffy vainly tried to glare as the tall man laughed at her.
"Sure, and I'm just here to keep you company." He took a step closer. "Spike won't like it if he finds you out here."
"Who's Spike?" Her brow creased with frustration as again a laugh sounded.
"You'll know soon enough, sweetheart." He was right in front of her now. Her panicked gasps the only sound to be heard. "I'm not going to hurt you." The deep voice was heavy in the hallway as again the tall man reached out for her arm. "That is, unless you struggle."
"That's what you think." Buffy twisted in his grasp, forcing his hand back until the muscle was stretched to its breaking point. The pleased smile died on the tall man's lips. She forced him to the ground, all her strength focused on bending the tall man's hand.
"Now listen here-"
"Hunter", the man supplied in a pained gasp.
Buffy nodded. "Hunter. You are going to help me get out of here."
"Don’t think he can help wit' that, luv." Buffy felt him stand behind her, hard, calloused hands quickly breaking the submissive hold. "Hunter's never been good wit' getting birds to obey him", warm breath cascaded onto her neck. "But don't let that change your mind. With all the time we're destined to spend together, you two are bound to become… friends."
Buffy could only watch as something akin to fear flittered across Hunter's face.
Spike spun her around to look at him and immediately felt anger building. What in the bloody hell happened to the chit's face? Even when Drake had beaten her, it had never been this hard or this badly. I damn well made sure of it. A strange feeling of possessiveness welled within in, as the girl with her one good eye continued to glare at him.
Even like this, she's still defiant. Glancing back behind him, Spike kicked the door open and gestured in Hunter after him. He kept his tight grip on Buffy.
The room was like all the rest down in the servant's quarters, a mattress to sleep, some furniture and of course a dining table. 'Must hav' been how she got out." He pushed her into the middle room, noting the way that she stumbled. Someone was going to pay for that.
"'M Spike" he stated matter-of-factly. When she failed to express recognition, he sighed. He had hoped that she would still be asleep and had come to find Hunter to type up some loose ends.
Silence hung in the room.
And then she looked at him hard. "You could be Billy Idol for all I care."
He raised his hand to cuff her and then thought better of it. She could barely stand as it was and her anger, her righteous little rage that scrunched up the cute button nose, was all that was holding her together.
Won't do to break the girl.
Instead he moved back to the door, his hands signaling Hunter to follow him out. "As soon as we leave you'll know not to mock me like that pet." Spike straightened his new shirt, regretting that this one too, would soon be covered in blood. "But for now, I'll let it pass." He rolled his tongue behind his teeth in humor as she seemed to shake with rage. No she wasn't broken yet.
"All that you need to know, is that I own you."
The door slammed shut behind him. Spike not caring as sobs escaped the confines of the room. She would soon learn like the rest of them had. Hunter raised a questioning eyebrow.
"I want two men guarding this door." Hunter nodded in assent, massaging his hand ruefully.
Spike ignored it. His lieutenant had underestimated the girl and it had cost him. "Now bloody well, come on. I've more to do then watch some chit cry herself to sleep."
Angel was waiting for him.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I really love the band Bush, so don't take the chapter headings that seriously, it's just what I write to. Thanks for the encouraging reviews. It really helps kick start the muse.
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks for reading!