The lion woke feeling heavy and groggy; pain emanating from his core thudding through the beast. Derek opened his eyes and groaned at the sight that met his burning pupils. He was lying in what could only be described as a cell, and it was not the fairly nice cells of the Parisian Police department that Derek had once had the unfortunate pleasure of spending a night in for 'lewd behavior'. This cell was filthy; green mold grew down from the high window, spilling onto the floor and pooling into a small lake of fungus. It was cold even though it must have been hot outside; this time in summer it couldn't have been anything else.

Derek stood carefully, walking over to the window and looking through the small window almost too tall for him to see the Seine slowly flowing the in humid heat of midday. At least Derek hoped it was the Seine, who knew what day it was or where he was. The last thing Derek could remember was getting onto the metro with Spencer. Speaking of the young genius, Derek was worried about the smaller man. While Derek was more than physically capable of handling himself in whatever altercation they likely got themselves into, Derek seriously doubted that the pianist had any training in self-defense.

Just as Derek had worked himself into a panic about his counterpart, the heavy wooden door to his cell opened up and in walked a woman dressed in a bright orange flowing gown, giving her the immediate appearance of a socialite. Derek knew better.

"Hello, Derek" The woman spoke with a light accent, most likely Swiss-Italian. "It's nice of you to join us."

With this statement she grabbed Derek's chin lifting his face to look into his eyes. She scanned his face searching for something-something she didn't find by the way she immediately released him and walked back to the door.

"I hope you'll let us know when you're ready to talk." She said making ready to leave.

"Usually they ask you questions before determining that you are not going to talk to them." Derek proposed moving towards the woman and the door.

"If I needed to ask you anything, I wouldn't be good at my job Derek." The woman pointed out, pulling off her soft linen gloves.

"What exactly would that be, if you don't mind me asking?" Derek asked getting very close to the woman, close enough to smell the rose oil pouring from her body.

"I'm what one might call an interrogator, but the term seems so harsh. Just call me Emily, why don't you Derek." She finally said leaving the room in a whorl of orange and rose.

------------

It was dark again. Derek's third day in this…place and only the second time he'd seen the woman in orange. He'd been constantly visited by a string of food-bringers, bathroom escorts, and babysitters; but only twice by Emily. In Derek's mind it was an absurdly nice name for someone who was obviously going to kill him when this was all through. The worst part of being held captive was not knowing what was happening with Spencer.

Derek wasn't sure of anything when it came to the younger man. Derek didn't know where he was, what was happening to him, or even if he'd been kidnapped with Derek. After two days of going over and over in his mind the events of the day he was taken, Derek still couldn't remember what had happened. That worried him more than anything else. He naturally couldn't ask his jailors whether they had Spencer; what if he'd been taken later when not in Spencer's presence and they didn't even know of the doctor? What if they had him somewhere and were waiting for Derek to mention him so they could use him as a tool to get him to talk? There were simply too many variables for Derek to safely get an answer to his most fervent question.

He had however gotten some insight into his whereabouts. It was apparent that they were still in France as the guards watching over him constantly were baffled when Derek spoke Romansh which not many spoke but almost all in Switzerland could recognize; which was obviously where Emily was from and the only place in Europe that Derek knew of that had the same weather as northern France this time of year. He was fairly certain that they were still in Paris as well; he could hear the man that brought him his breakfast and lunch everyday arguing with another man about a football match that Derek had planned on attending in the city.

Derek had to quit thinking about the past though. It didn't really matter what city he was in or if Spencer had been taken with him as well. The only way to truly help him would be escaping and figuring out exactly what had happened. Derek was certainly well trained enough to accomplish this. However, he needed to put together just one last puzzle piece before his escape…

…why had they taken him?

As Emily walked into his cell for the second time he knew he had his chance. He tried to make his face appear open and inviting; willing to talk. He laid his arms at his side in a gesture of faith. Walking in for the second time, Emily smiled a large, predatory smile.

"Well Derek, I see we're a little more open to talking today." She whispered into his ear sitting in a chair that had been set in front of Derek's cot seconds before.

"I have some questions I want answered and I figure a trade is the most…democratic way to solve our little situation." Derek said loudly forcing Emily to lean back; she smiled however and crossed her ankles politely.

"I think that can be accomplished; you ask your questions- I might answer, I might not- and you answer mine- which you will answer." Emily said confidently pulling out a cigarette and offering to Derek.

"No thank you." Derek declined, noting the attempt to distract him for what it was "Why am I here? I know it's information of some sort, but what is the ultimate goal? Money, power, intelligence? I assure you I have very little of all three."

"Now, now, Derek we know that isn't true. You make a very fine living doing what you do, you are very influential in the right circles, and are just as smart as strong; but you are right while our short term goal is to make you talk our long term goal is slightly more complicated. Of course I won't be telling you what it is. I will however answer the real question that you're asking here; we know you're an American agent."

It took Derek a moment to process that thought, he had suspected that his status and an asset to the US government might be a reason for his imprisonment, but that was just a maybe. Just like the thousand other reasons that they could have for kidnapping him.

"So Derek, now I think it's time you answer a question of mine." Emily said smirking evilly at Derek's stunned silence.

"I thought you didn't ask questions" Derek lashed out, losing the composure he promised himself he would keep throughout this 'conversation'.

"For you Derek…I'll make an exception." Emily said finally lighting up the cigarette Derek had refused. "What exactly do you think we've been doing to little piano player?"

"I wasn't even sure you had Spencer." It was all Derek could think to say.

"Oh, we have him alright. He's been enjoying himself as far as I can tell." Emily replied her mouth twisted into a lecherous grin-Derek had no idea how he restrained himself from leaping from his bed and choking the life from her. "But you still haven't answered my question. You didn't know for sure that we had him that's true but you must have imagined. What nightmares wormed their way into your brain at night? What horrors woke you? Did you imagine that we tortured him? He is a fragile one, he'd break easy…but we didn't do that Derek. I've been honest; I do believe he's been enjoying himself."

"Just stop okay…isn't my turn again?" Derek asked feeling his stomach try and escape its worldly prison.

"Alright Derek, I suppose I've had my fun. Ask another question." Emily said stomping down the butt of her cigarette by the heel of her boot.

"Where is Spencer?"

"I'll show you him." Emily stood abruptly and turned away from Derek and motioned to the guard at the door.

The guard disappeared; walking down the hallway Derek knew must be long by the echoes he could hear in his room. He returned quickly opening the door wide for a tall man to pass through. He was dressed in a light gray suit making his long frame appear to stretch on forever. He smiled sweetly at Emily, kissing the top of her hand before looking at Derek, with a sad pensive look.

"Spencer" Derek choked out.