"Now you're getting it. I'm glad you're seeing things my way." The man waited a moment. "I'm so glad you're being smart about this. I saw what happened to the last girl... all that blood, her cries of pain... It is not something I am wanting see again."

The man sat next to her on the couch. She watched, glared, then scooted away.

He continued, "So, in a few minutes Forrest is going to take you to a room where you will be able to change. I'm sure you're tired of being in those filth scrubs by now. You may take a shower and do whatever it is you need to do. There will be some clean clothes for you to change into and I will also be sending someone in there with a tray of food for you. I'd say in about an hour or so. And then I will come for you and take you to your new patient. I will expect daily notices about his condition, my dear girl."

Buffy angrily interrupted him there. "Now you wait just a second. I will take care of this... whoever. I will do the job you are asking of me and I will make him better. And yes, I will give you stupid notices of his progress and I will behave myself. But you listen! My name is Elizabeth Anne Summers. It is not dear girl. It is not dear. It is not my dear or any other damn pet names you want to think about using!" she told him, her voice raising.

Forrest stepped forward, reaching a hand out to grab her. But the man only waved him away.

"Alright," he said softly. "Doctor Summers." And then, with a move she never even saw coming, his open palm reached out and found her cheek, hitting her so hard that her head was knocked back and the rest of her went flying off the sofa to the ground. "You listen here, girl. Nobody talks to me in that way. I will call you whatever I wish, and you! You keep that damn mouth of yours shut!" he said gravely, now standing above her.

She slowly sat back up, holding her red cheek, feeling blood coming from her mouth. Her lips had been cut on her teeth. She moved slowly, getting back up onto the sofa.

"Now, dear girl, as I was saying... I expect daily notices. I want to be informed immediately when he regains consciousness. Forrest here will escort you to your room now," then he waited for him to come forward once more.

Forrest wrapped his hand around her tiny arm once again. He still had a lustful smile and gleaming eyes when looking at her. That only grew more when she flinched to try and get away from him.

Forrest hauled her back up to her feet, dragging her towards the door, but then they were stopped by the boss.

"Forrest? Please remember you are to escort her to her room. You are not to hurt her, in any way. We need her alive."

Forrest nodded then opened the door, pulling Buffy out then closing the doors. "Come on," he growled, yanking on her.

Buffy did her best to keep up with him as they turned down several corridors. It got to the point she couldn't have even began to guess from which way they'd come or in which direction they were heading.

Next, came a short flight of stairs, then on through another door. He opened it and had pushed her inside.

She'd barely had time yet again to look around before Forrest grabbed her, pushed her against a wall, his body coming up into hers, holding her there. His fingers slid over her face, roaming over the slap mark. "I was so very disappointed that you chose to do what he wants you to," he whispered before his mouth came over hers.

Buffy struggled against him, barely able to breath. And to not vomit.

His tongue wiggled its way between her clenched lips, pushed against her teeth. She tried to bite him, he'd just grabbed her breasts, squeezed, until she cried out in pain. "All I want is one kiss, you bitch. So you do it. Play nice and I won't have to hurt you," he growled out before kissing her once again, this time lifting her so he could press his erection into her. And he began dry humping her.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, it had stopped.

He stepped back, let her slide down his thigh before getting back to the ground. She dropped down and sat there, staring at him, terrified.

"It is just too bad. You just had to agree, didn't ya? Oh well... maybe we will get lucky and the asshole we got will just die, then the boss will give ya on to me 'cause Lord knows that'd piss him off," he said shaking his head. Then he turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

OoOoO

Once Buffy had heard the lock clicking, she jumped up. She ran to a different door, racing towards the toilet.

She lifted the lid and let all the water she had drunk earlier come back up. Tears streamed down her face. Tears of pain, fear, and rage. She thought she was dying.

When she was done dry heaving, Buffy curled on the tiled floor of the bathroom, wondering what she was going to do. She knew that even if she did all the guy wanted her to, he was going to kill her. No doubt about that. He hadn't even tried to disguise himself. She saw his face, his workers faces. They weren't going to let her live.

She knew she had to escape. That was all there was too it. She just didn't know how.

She finally managed to get herself up off the floor and walked over to the sink area. She grabbed the wrapped up toothbrush off of the counter, noting that her brand of toothpaste sat right beside it.

She quickly brushed the taste of her sickness out of her mouth then stared at her reflection. Her green eyes were rimmed in an ugly red, dark shadows lurking under them. There was fear and worry shinning through her eyes. Her face was pale, except for where she had been slapped and her lips were swollen from being mauled. Her hair a tangled mess of dirty gold.

She knew she desperately wanted a shower but instead she went back into the main room she'd been dragged to, her eyes widening as she looked at the place. It looked as though she was in a five-star hotel. There was a huge bed, expensive looking furniture, things she certainly wasn't used to.

She looked around for a moment before hurrying over to the closest windows, pushing aside the large drapes. After she stared at the large bars bolted over them from outside.

All the other windows in the room ended up with the same exact problem.

Buffy's hand turned into a fist. "Goddamnit!" she groaned out loud. Next, she sighed and walked around the room a bit. When she got to a long dresser in the room she started going through the drawers. There she had found clothing... all of it new, and all in her sizes. Her style for the most part, too.

It was as if someone knew in advance what to buy. And that thought shook her to the core.

Buffy grabbed a pair of jeans a tee shirt, followed by finding some undergarments to put on. Then she hurried with them to the bathroom.

Once inside, Buffy shut the door, trying to find a way to lock it but seemed there was no such luck on that.

When she turned around, Buffy looked at the giant soaking tub with yearning. Next to it was a large shower stall with frosted doors. She sighed, walking towards the shower and turning on the water.

Buffy didn't know how much time she had left before someone would come for her, but she knew she needed to clean up a bit, and more so she didn't want to be caught off guard. Let alone undressed.

She hurried her dirty scrubs off and stepped into the shower's heat. She closed her eyes briefly, letting the spray hit her, enjoying the feel. But as she opened her eyes, she felt another pulse of panic. The shampoo, conditioner and body wash inside the stall on a small corner shelf were again her brands. She turned her head and noticed a shower poof, a brush and a hairtie on another shelf. Just like she had set up at her own home.

'How the hell did they know? How long have they been planning to grab me?'

Buffy rushed through the shower then grabbed a towel off of the heated towel rack to dry off. She didn't waste much time, finding herself still damp as she jumped into the clean clothes she'd brought in with her.

Buffy swallowed, still brushing her hair with one hand, and went over to the medicine cabinet. Again, finding it set up almost exactly like hers at home. She reached a hand inside... touching a few random items she saw. Two bottles of Tylenol, an extra toothbrush, a small tub of lotion... her brand, her deodorant, her brand of floss. Hell they even had it down to the same brand of rubber bands she used. And all of it was new, all still sealed.

She was severely creeped out.

Buffy put a few bands and hair ties around her wrist and went back to brushing her hair, heading back to the other room.

Buffy saw a small tray on the bed when she entered the room. One that had not been there when she'd run off to take a shower.

'He must have came in here when I was in there.'

The thought gave her chills.

Buffy sat down on the edge of the bed. Her knees thankful, they were still weak from it all. She sighed, knowing she needed food and to get out of this place.

She studied the tray, already smelling bacon. She lifted the lid over the main plate and looked down. Inside besides the bacon were some eggs and toast, a small bowl of fresh fruit. On the tray were also a huge glass of orange juice and a small mug of coffee. She had a fork, no knife, and a small spoon. She picked the toast up first, sniffing it before taking a small bite. She figured if it were drugged it was nothing she could taste.

Her stomach grumbled and she moaned a bit. Then she surprised herself, picking up the fork and eating every last bite. She wasn't a big fan of coffee but figured it'd do her some good in this situation so also drank it and most of the juice as well.

Just as she finished the mug, there was a knock on the door, followed by it opening. And there he stood.

Buffy looked him over, noting the gun in his hand, using it to motion for her.

"Well I'm certainly glad you enjoyed your meal Doctor, is there anything else we can get you?"

"Well you could put that thing away," she said, her eyes never leaving the pistol. "Guns make me nervous," she said truthfully.

"That's good. It means I won't be having any problems with you then. You might want to go over to the closet, there's some shoes in there, and where you're heading you're going to need something on your feet."

She did as told. She pulled out a pair of tennis shoes, again her brand and style and color, just adding to the creepiness of this whole thing. But without mentioning it, she went to the bed, sat down on it then pulled them on, quickly tying the laces.

"Very good. Now, if you would be so kind as to come with me... I will take you to your patient," he motioned again with his gun then stepped back as she went out of the room first.

He motioned for her to take a left, away from the hall she was more familiar with, though that wasn't really saying a lot.

He stayed a few steps behind her, giving her directions and soon they were in an older looking area of the building.

There was no carpet, no wallpaper.

"Stop right here," he said, hauling her in front of a bank of elevators. He pressed a down button on one then motioned for her to get into the one that had opened up. He smiled as she hesitated. "Oh, yes, I forgot. Claustrophobia. Hmm, well I guess waking up in that coffin must have been quite the nightmare for you."

Buffy took a deep breath and stepped inside. She turned when he instructed her to do so. She watched him hit the lowest button, making her wonder just how big this place was.

And, as if reading her mind, he told her, "My father bought this place from the government. It was some sort of research and design lab or something of that nature. It's hidden by the mansion above and does work oh so well for my needs."

But she refused to get into any conversation with him, so just stared at the numbers that flashed above the door.

It stopped at a negative three, which made her grimace.

The doors opened on another hallway, this one much less pristine as the others that she had seen. These had cracked tiles, stained walls, mold and other types of fungus.

"You have an injured man down here in these type of conditions?" she asked, clearly outraged.

But he just looked at her like she was insane or something, but then he shook his head. "That way, Doctor," and he followed her out of the elevator, watching where he walked as if not to coil his shoes or cuffs to his expensive pants.

OoOoO

When they got to the end of the hall, Buffy stood before a huge white door. It was locked from the outside.

The man motioned for her to step off to the side then he quickly typed in the digit code to get inside, blocking her view as he put it in.

Soon the door swung open to show a very tiny room. It was white, had a small table inside, two chairs in a corner. In another corner it had a toilet and a sink.

But what shocked her most was what was on a tiny cot bolted against a wall.

A man. She guessed the "patient."

His feet were hanging off of the small cot. His arms were chained above his head, attached to an eyehook in the wall. His dark hair was a mess. It was shaggy and mess, looking like he probably kept it short most of the time and was months overdue for a haircut. His body was covered in dried blood, bruises, scrapes and other horrible things. And besides the cuffs, the man was completely naked.

"What the hell is this?" she asked scared and shocked.

"This is your patient, of course," he told her.