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The first thing she felt was thirst. The hunger could be controlled – had to be controlled really. But the thirst was terrible. She couldn't remember back before the tears in that awful room. Regretting her decision to volunteer for this assignment she kept her eyes closed for a minute longer. They would be coming for her soon, especially after her unfortunate meeting with Hunter. A shudder ripped through her body as the tall man's glowering face flashed in her mind. For all the niceties, she didn't believe that he would be kind at all. But anything was better than Spike. Buffy sunk deeper into the covers. And immediately sat up again.

She forced her eyes open and gasped. The room was nothing like where she had been held. It was beautiful. Curtains the colour of dusk were draped on two of the walls. She guessed that she must be on the corner of the house, perhaps in a suite of some sort. The floor was smooth wooden boards, a luxurious rug covering the length of the it. A chest of drawers sat to her left, but I was far away compared to the usual standard of rooms. Buffy felt like she was in a hall from the size of the bedroom. Her hands unconsciously brushed the satin sheets beneath her, wonder sinking in even as her training told her to be wary.

Where am I ?

Surely that terrible man didn't still have her? Drake and Angel's faces flashed in her mind before she shook her head. There was no way that this could be real.

Or maybe it is and I can finally go home.

Naively she rose and looked at the walls closer. Maybe it was a hotel and he had saved her; placed her somewhere safe. Buffy didn't try to analyse what he she meant. Her love life was just one of the insurmountable problems that she had created.

But he was so irresistible. The thought came unbidden as Buffy considered the dark wooden table. It reminded her of Angel's eyes. The Angel that had comforted her after Master's first visit, the Angel who had convinced her that life outside of the rules was possible.

Riley had seemed like a ghost after she accepted the mission. Buffy knew that he was unhappy about it but also believed that he could accept her lifestyle. After all, Riley had known from the beginning that she wanted to be a federal agent, even if he had objected often. Buffy had convinced herself that the arguments were nothing more than his concern for her showing through, not a reflection of his own insecurities. But surely he still cared about her. Her eyes glanced at the bare ring finger on her left hand. Scars riddled where an engagement ring should of sat. She'd given it up, the day before they sent her in. Riley was holding it for when she got back.

If I ever get back.

Her engagement had been Riley's final effort to get her to retire early and start the process of being a politician's wife. Although Riley wanted to be active in the police force, he viewed it as inappropriate for Buffy to continue in her role. Angel had declared him an idiot and convinced her not to send information back to her commanding officer. The raid had come just before she would've been contacted by the mole. But now it was useless. Shame filled her as she considered the risks she had been willing to take for a criminal.

I'm such a fool.

If the last week had taught her anything, it was never to trust these gangsters. They were nothing more than criminals who preyed on the weak. It was her job to survive and report back.

That's if I survive…

Her throat was raw from sobbing but tears threatened to flow again as she fell back onto the bed. Why hadn't he come for her? Did the confessions of love really mean nothing? Her vision became blurry as she finally succumbed to the truth of her situation. She wasn't in some nice hotel room and no one was going to save her no matter how hard she wished for it. The Slayer was alone on this one.

The room contained a long profile mirror and it took a few minutes before she boldly stepped in front of it. Her blonde hair was still ridiculously peroxide rather than the normal golden hue, but it wasn't completely ruined. Buffy had read of survivor accounts from former agents. Shaving the head was the first in a series of torture tactics in order to totally reduce the will of the prisoner.

Her face was another story. Buffy couldn't remember when she had last been beaten so badly, certainly not in any training sessions. The bruises overlapped forcing a cringe whenever she dared to touch one. Shrugging out of her clothes, Buffy forced her gaze lower. Immediately after her capture, the guards had tried to mark every inch of her body, heavy hands beating down on her legs and stomach. She was lucky that that was all they had done.

She didn't try to put the dirty dress on again, instead walking slowly over to the dresser. Riffling through the drawers, Buffy struggled into a long shirt, obviously a man's and some pants. The shirt was finely tailored and had not been worn in a while from the lack of smell. All the better Buffy thought. Maybe he doesn’t live here anymore. She smiled despite the pain when she finally discovered a long tan belt. There was no chance of her keeping the clothes on otherwise.

She drew back the curtains for a moment and stared out the glass window. Below an estate stretched out, rich fields of green broken up by a long winding road which faded into the distance. It was miles from civilization and definitely nowhere near her beloved home. The afternoon sky suggested that she had been asleep for hours and the thought made her stomach rumble.

When were they going to let her out the room?

"Has anyone checked on her yet?" The tall man's question sounded in the silence of the room, breaking Buffy's brief reverie. Footsteps came to a halt outside of the door and she leapt back to the bed. If he wanted another fight, he was going to get one.

Hunter swung the door open slowly, waiting for a kick or punch or whatever the mean spirited girl would throw. He had learned from their last encounter and this time was better prepared.

"Hurry up, y' big ponce. I wan' t' see 'er".

"If you insist boss" Hunter grumbled. He didn't understand the fascination with the girl, no matter how pretty she was. Pigs were pigs. You couldn't change them and keeping them would only make you question your decisions. The fact that the pig was a girl only made him worry more.

He didn't check on his boss before shutting the door again in front of him.

Spike would have to live with his own decisions. Hunter just hoped that she didn't kill him first.





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