'All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces'
The lack of feeling in her hands was the least of her problems, Buffy thought sourly as she sat tightly bound to the unyielding metal chair in the floor of her cell. On the other side of the glass, which they had oh so deliberately turned her to face, was Spike. He sat clad only in his jeans, the heavy black material a stark contrast to the icy whiteness of his skin and hair. He seemed to fade back into the blinding light and the stiffly padded walls, his icy blue eyes focused on hers.
The doors to her cell slid open and she craned her neck around to see a solid, middle aged man step through the doors and into her cell. The other soldiers which crowded around her, quickly straightened and saluted, their eyes hardening under their commander's inspection. He finally nodded, giving them the single to return to normal and headed for her. Abruptly she turned away, her eyes staring straight ahead as he came to stand before her.
He studied her as she stared beyond him into the cell where Spike was contained, his eyes narrowed as he watched the man suspiciously. MacGruder smiled gruffly, his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he roamed over the petite girl who sat before him, her chin jutting out rebelliously, her hazel eyes gazing past him into the room where the hostile, her lover he reminded himself, sat morosely. He was aware of Agent Finn beside him, a ball of frustration and hatred. He was more than eager to do away with the girl, impetuous and bloodthirsty. MacGruder frowned, once that would've made him the ideal soldier but now, with so much at stake, he was more of a liability than anything else.
"And you must be Miss Summers."
Buffy jumped at the gruff voice, her eyes hardening as they landed on Riley before meeting the eyes of the middle aged man before her. He was almost painfully nondescript, his proud bearing and graying hair giving him an air of authority. His blue eyes watched her interestedly, his heavily lined face without expression, "If I say no will you let me go?"
A brief surge of surprise moved through him as he stared down at the younger woman. Most people in her place would have been in tears, begging to be released, promising anything for their life. Few would have responded with such sarcasm. Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of Riley moving, the man's beefy fist hitting the side of the girl's face so that her head turned, "That will be enough, Agent Finn." We want her alive, he thought irritably, how can he not see how valuable she is?
He took a step forward, watching as Buffy opened her mouth experimentally, there was only a faint mark on the side of her face which was fading rapidly before his eyes. "Please excuse Agent Finn," he began carefully, "I am General Arthur MacGruder." Buffy nodded once, her shoulder's squaring as she crossed her legs, silently thanking whoever was watching over her that the soldiers in the cell had so badly underestimated her that they left her legs free.
"Undoubtedly," he began again, impervious to the danger of her silence, "you are wondering why you are here."
"The thought," she said, noting the positions of the soldiers who stood around her cell, "might've entered my mind."
Riley moved forward again but MacGruder stayed him with his hand and a warning nod, "The truth is, Miss Summers, that you are a liability, one that we can no longer allow to roam unchecked."
"So what," she began sarcastically, "You just plan to keep me in here until I wither up and die? Or will you experiment on me too?"
MacGruder shrugged and moved away from her, the two guards at her side moving slightly closer, "The choice is entirely up to you Miss Summers. From what I can tell from our recent interlude you would be very … pleasurable company to have."
"And what if I choose option three?"
MacGruder paused and turned to look at her, "There is no option three."
Buffy smiled uncrossing her legs and placing her feet firmly on the ground pushed herself upwards into standing position. She swung around quickly, smacking the chair hard against the sides of the two soldier's nearest her, the formerly sturdy wooden legs of the chair splintering and releasing her hands from behind her. She turned as another soldier advanced towards her warily, her fist connecting with his face as he raised his gun, sending him slamming into the glass wall. She watched surprised as he bounced off, not even a crack appearing in the glass. Her surprise didn't last long as Riley lunged at her, his beefy body knocking her against a wall. Summoning up all her strength she pushed him back, her fist connecting with his face, her knee with his solar plexus, forcing him to the ground. With a final punch to the face he hit the ground. The other three soldiers lay stunned on the ground, in no condition to stop her. If she was going to leave it would have to be now.
She turned towards the now empty door and exited into the hallway, her fist raised to smash in the control panel to Spike's cell when the sound of tsk-tsking from behind her penetrated her adrenaline fogged mind. She turned slowly, defeat shadowing her eyes as she recognized the figure of Spike held between five commando's, more than one stake, aimed directly at his heart. She cursed the chip in his head silently, despair filling her as she realized that they was no way she could leave without him, not knowing what she knew about this place, and not feeling what she felt.
MacGruder stepped before her, a smug smirk on his hardened lips, "You continue with this rebellion and you forfeit your companion's life. Comply … and we'll consider his survival."
Buffy lowered her palm, her gaze hard as she met MacGruder's, "What do you want?" Behind her she heard Spike gasp, cursing her and calling out all kinds of names and entreaties for her to go and forget about him; he could take care of himself. Buffy locked him out, focusing only on the war hardened visage before her.
He smiled, his yellowed teeth, glinting faintly in the bright lighting of the corridor, "You, Miss Summers."
'Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere'
Worn out places, worn out faces'
The lack of feeling in her hands was the least of her problems, Buffy thought sourly as she sat tightly bound to the unyielding metal chair in the floor of her cell. On the other side of the glass, which they had oh so deliberately turned her to face, was Spike. He sat clad only in his jeans, the heavy black material a stark contrast to the icy whiteness of his skin and hair. He seemed to fade back into the blinding light and the stiffly padded walls, his icy blue eyes focused on hers.
The doors to her cell slid open and she craned her neck around to see a solid, middle aged man step through the doors and into her cell. The other soldiers which crowded around her, quickly straightened and saluted, their eyes hardening under their commander's inspection. He finally nodded, giving them the single to return to normal and headed for her. Abruptly she turned away, her eyes staring straight ahead as he came to stand before her.
He studied her as she stared beyond him into the cell where Spike was contained, his eyes narrowed as he watched the man suspiciously. MacGruder smiled gruffly, his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he roamed over the petite girl who sat before him, her chin jutting out rebelliously, her hazel eyes gazing past him into the room where the hostile, her lover he reminded himself, sat morosely. He was aware of Agent Finn beside him, a ball of frustration and hatred. He was more than eager to do away with the girl, impetuous and bloodthirsty. MacGruder frowned, once that would've made him the ideal soldier but now, with so much at stake, he was more of a liability than anything else.
"And you must be Miss Summers."
Buffy jumped at the gruff voice, her eyes hardening as they landed on Riley before meeting the eyes of the middle aged man before her. He was almost painfully nondescript, his proud bearing and graying hair giving him an air of authority. His blue eyes watched her interestedly, his heavily lined face without expression, "If I say no will you let me go?"
A brief surge of surprise moved through him as he stared down at the younger woman. Most people in her place would have been in tears, begging to be released, promising anything for their life. Few would have responded with such sarcasm. Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of Riley moving, the man's beefy fist hitting the side of the girl's face so that her head turned, "That will be enough, Agent Finn." We want her alive, he thought irritably, how can he not see how valuable she is?
He took a step forward, watching as Buffy opened her mouth experimentally, there was only a faint mark on the side of her face which was fading rapidly before his eyes. "Please excuse Agent Finn," he began carefully, "I am General Arthur MacGruder." Buffy nodded once, her shoulder's squaring as she crossed her legs, silently thanking whoever was watching over her that the soldiers in the cell had so badly underestimated her that they left her legs free.
"Undoubtedly," he began again, impervious to the danger of her silence, "you are wondering why you are here."
"The thought," she said, noting the positions of the soldiers who stood around her cell, "might've entered my mind."
Riley moved forward again but MacGruder stayed him with his hand and a warning nod, "The truth is, Miss Summers, that you are a liability, one that we can no longer allow to roam unchecked."
"So what," she began sarcastically, "You just plan to keep me in here until I wither up and die? Or will you experiment on me too?"
MacGruder shrugged and moved away from her, the two guards at her side moving slightly closer, "The choice is entirely up to you Miss Summers. From what I can tell from our recent interlude you would be very … pleasurable company to have."
"And what if I choose option three?"
MacGruder paused and turned to look at her, "There is no option three."
Buffy smiled uncrossing her legs and placing her feet firmly on the ground pushed herself upwards into standing position. She swung around quickly, smacking the chair hard against the sides of the two soldier's nearest her, the formerly sturdy wooden legs of the chair splintering and releasing her hands from behind her. She turned as another soldier advanced towards her warily, her fist connecting with his face as he raised his gun, sending him slamming into the glass wall. She watched surprised as he bounced off, not even a crack appearing in the glass. Her surprise didn't last long as Riley lunged at her, his beefy body knocking her against a wall. Summoning up all her strength she pushed him back, her fist connecting with his face, her knee with his solar plexus, forcing him to the ground. With a final punch to the face he hit the ground. The other three soldiers lay stunned on the ground, in no condition to stop her. If she was going to leave it would have to be now.
She turned towards the now empty door and exited into the hallway, her fist raised to smash in the control panel to Spike's cell when the sound of tsk-tsking from behind her penetrated her adrenaline fogged mind. She turned slowly, defeat shadowing her eyes as she recognized the figure of Spike held between five commando's, more than one stake, aimed directly at his heart. She cursed the chip in his head silently, despair filling her as she realized that they was no way she could leave without him, not knowing what she knew about this place, and not feeling what she felt.
MacGruder stepped before her, a smug smirk on his hardened lips, "You continue with this rebellion and you forfeit your companion's life. Comply … and we'll consider his survival."
Buffy lowered her palm, her gaze hard as she met MacGruder's, "What do you want?" Behind her she heard Spike gasp, cursing her and calling out all kinds of names and entreaties for her to go and forget about him; he could take care of himself. Buffy locked him out, focusing only on the war hardened visage before her.
He smiled, his yellowed teeth, glinting faintly in the bright lighting of the corridor, "You, Miss Summers."
'Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere'