This took longer than I expected, and for that I apologise. The reason is that I've started work on another project.
The new fic is still B/S based, as that's my obsession. However, it's a result of someone asking why I don't write B/X. It's based on my belief that such a ship could only come about if things were very different from what we've seen, and that it couldn't be a healthy relationship. Because of this, I'm wary of posting here, as I don't want to contribute to the shipper wars which I really don't understand.
So, if you're interested in this new fic, you can read it at my site. I tried putting the address here, but when I did, for some reason, the chapter wouldn't load properly. The link's in my profile if you're interested, or email me for more information.
The decision not to post here might change depending on reaction. I'm going to try to write Xander sympathetically, but I'm not sure of my ability in that respect.
Now, on with the fic you clicked to read!
Chapter 17 - A Meeting with the Enemy
I must've slept. I mean, there's not a lot else to do here. Lay down after my chat with Jacob and had a good think. They haven't killed me, so they need me for something. Sooner or later, they'll let me out of this place, and when they do, I've got a chance to put things right. Until then, well, might as well conserve my energy.
No dreams this time. I'm almost disappointed. Scratch that, I'm bloody disappointed. Seems like Niblet's been visiting me while I sleep a lot lately, and when she can give me dreams like that last one, well, of course I'm disappointed. Only thing better than that would be for it to be real.
I think the sizzle woke me, 'cos when I open my eyes, Jacob's gone. Funny bloke. Well, maybe bloke isn't the right word, but it'll do. Hate to admit it, but he kind of reminds me of William. Of everything I despise about William. The way he believes the best of people. The way he wants to do the right thing. The way he thinks he can fix things, with nothing more than his intellect as a weapon. He doesn't stand a bloody chance, but ..
So, I'm on my own again. Wonder how long it'll be. I'm not left wondering for long, because there's another sizzle, and there's something in here with me. Gas canister, and it's filling the air with something. For a fraction of a second, I wish I was still a vampire and didn't need to breathe, but then, they wouldn't be using it then, now would they? Then ..
***
Ok, hangover. No, not a hangover, 'cos I haven't been drinking. Feels like one, though. Worse than a hangover. Maybe a hangover while the chip's zapping my poor noggin. I open my eyes carefully. I'm in a cage. There aren't any bars, but I know a cage when I see one. This one's made of some clear material, but its purpose is obvious - to keep me inside.
My head's spinning a bit, so I sit myself up slowly. I'm not alone. Massive great Fyarl demon's dozing a few yards away. Still seems sound asleep, so I look around a bit more. Then I see her. Sitting on the other side of the partition. Dawson. The after-effects of whatever they zapped me with disappear instantly in a wave of fury. I'm on my feet and throwing myself at her. Needless to say, the partition doesn't give in any way. Dawson doesn't even flinch.
"Hello, Hostile 17," she greets me.
The sound that answers her couldn't be called language.
"Now, now, don't be like that. You're very interesting, you know that? First, you're the only vampire who survived the chipping process. You actually adapted to it, finding another way to live. Very clever of you. But the rest? Well, I can't even start to understand how you've done it. I mean, no chip, you're warm, you breathe, and you don't need the sun-block any more. We'll be having a chat later, and you're going to tell me all about how you did that. In the meantime, we're going for a practical test. The people in the lab tell me you should be just as strong as you were before, but I wanted to see for myself. Got you a special treat. Hostile 347's been around for a while, and he's never come close to losing a fight. He's unusually aggressive, and he seems determined to kill anything that isn't him. If you manage to survive, we'll have a little chat. If you don't, then there's probably no point."
"You've taken your samples, you've got all the information you're going to get," I tell her, my voice a whisper.
"Oh, I don't think so. There are a lot of ways of getting information. There's always a post mortem exam, and I suspect you'd actually have something left to examine now, but I'm betting on your will to live. I think that's why you survived the last time. You had the strongest will to live. You'll fight, and you'll do what you have to do so that I don't kill you."
I shake my head, but as I do so, I remember the Bit's words. I've got to be strong. Buffy needs me. She needs me - Zara. Or is it just a cruel deception to keep me fighting, keep me suffering when there's nothing left for me?
I swallow, my brain trying to make sense of conflicting feelings. More or less believed the dream before, and what's changed? Nothing, except seeing that bitch outside. She didn't send the dream. Wasn't her style. Oh, I don't doubt she could do it, but maybe it'd take her a bit more time than she's had so far.
I'm pulled from my thoughts by a growl that signifies that my companion's waking. He's pulling himself to his feet faster than I managed, and he doesn't look happy to see me. Before I know it, he's charging towards me, and I know I've only got two choices. Kill or die. So, I decide to kill.
***
I pull his head, and hear the satisfying crunch that tells me I've broken his neck. I collapse on the ground, my breathing heavy, and excruciating due to the broken ribs. I suspect my face's a mess too. Certainly got hit there enough. That Fyarl was strong. Can't remember when one of them took me that long. I don't have any problem believing he's killed a lot of demons for them. Neat trick, that. Getting demons to kill other demons. Saves them getting their lily-white hands dirty.
"I knew you wouldn't disappoint," she says. I'd almost forgotten she was there. I ignore her and stay where I am, getting my breathing under control and trying not to wince. Don't want to let her know I'm hurt.
I hear a sizzle, and the Fyarl's gone. A couple of seconds later there's a bag filled with blood in its place.
"Very useful contraption," she comments. "We can effectively transport anything anywhere on this base, as long as it goes by way of the universe you will come to know as home. And soon, we'll be able to get around that little restriction. Jacob's no doubt told you his story. It won't be long until we have the master control unit, and when we do, we'll make our own units, with appropriate modifications."
I maintain my silence, but I reach for the blood and drink it quickly. I've already made up my mind about that. It might be drugged, but if I'm going to take advantage of any opportunities that turn up, I need to be strong.
"So, 17, what have you been up to since you were last where you belong?"
There's a pause, which I'm not about to grace with a comment.
"Not telling, eh? I thought you knew better than that. Remember last time? You learned then. Did exactly what you were told, in the end."
She's still waiting for a reply. I don't even look at her.
"Oh, I see. You think that because you don't have the chip any more, I can't hurt you. I think it's time for a demonstration."
I glance up and notice for the first time that she's sitting at a console. Her attention is on that, but I can't see what she's doing. There's a sound, it's filling my ears, a humming, getting louder, and then the pain hits. It seems to affect every nerve in my body simultaneously, yet I can't scream. Even those muscles are stretched taut in agony.
I don't know how long it went on, but I'm panting with the aftershocks.
"You see, I don't need the chip any more. The chip's electronic, and it was never going to last forever. It was only a means to an end, and I don't need it now. You were conditioned to react to some external signals. Sounds, pictures, faces. You remembered some things when you saw my face the other day, didn't you?"
She's still waiting for a reaction, and this time I give her one. I throw myself towards her. I know I'm not going to get her, but I want her to be under no misconceptions about my intentions if I ever get free.
This time she flinches away. Just a fraction, but I see it. It's a small victory, but we both know that's what it is.
"Sooner or later, that pain will start to destroy your brain," she tells me. "It's a disadvantage of the system, but it can't be helped. We already knew you were resistant to pain, so we had to maximise the output. I must admit, I thought that level would render you unconscious. I'm impressed. So, why don't you tell me what you've been up to? Or, why don't I give you a few minutes to think about it."
She hits a switch on the console, and there's another noise. This one doesn't give pain. It's pleasure, low level, leaving every nerve humming expectantly. She glances at me, then gets up and leaves the room. I try to get my brain in gear. I know she can break me. So, I've got to tell her something. I've got to tell her enough for her to think she's got me, but not so much that I endanger my girls. But what? I mean, glowing girls? She's going to believe that one, now isn't she? But then, how else do I account for it? I can hardly give her a recipe for turning any old vampire into another one of me.
She's coming back, and I've made my decision. I'll tell her about my trip to Africa, but I'm going to spin a line about the soul. I'll tell her the soul I won was incompatible with being a vampire, so they gave me a different body. No mention of Dawn, of needing to keep her safe.
***
I don't suppose it was a long session. In the end, she seemed worried at the amount of damage the pain would do to my brain, so she backed off, commenting that the cumulative effect would have a greater effect on my reticence. I decided to play hard to get. I know what I'm going to tell her, but I'm feeding it a bit at a time, and I made her wait for the first instalment. If I give her what I want to too quickly, she's going to know there's more. There's not been a lot of pleasure, just the pain whenever she wasn't happy about my answers. She gave up in the end, and sent me back, and I'm right back where I started. She enjoyed it, that much was obvious. Even through the partition, I knew she found it exhilarating. I wonder what her plans are for me when I'm no longer needed here. Somehow, I don't think death is too high on her list.
Jacob's back, too. He looks bad. There're what look like bruises and cuts over all the skin I can see, and he looks a very odd shade. He's out of it, though, and I'm not about to disturb him 'cos he looks like he needs some peace.
I'm angry. Furious that they treat demons like that without thought. I know, I've killed demons, but only when they threaten me, or someone I care about. There're enough demons around whose only thought is the pain and suffering of others, and there're more who consider the rest of us to be no more than food. I get that. That's how I used to think, too. But there're others, too. Clem, for example. Cheats at poker, but don't know anyone who knows him who'd say anything worse. They've no right to put all demons in one bundle. It's like saying all mammals are the same, and because some are dangerous, they should all be wiped out.
I'm not saying I don't deserve it. I do, I know that. If it wasn't for Buffy and Zara, I'd just let them kill me. I swear I'd not even fight back, but they don't just threaten me. It's the others, the ones who don't threaten anyone, that's what I object to. And I know Buffy understands that now. So, why can't these morons work it out?
