Chapter 46 - 28 July 2004

I don't think she even notices I'm here. The scene in front of her is one that is strangely familiar. I/she is manacled to a wall in what looks remarkably like a disused factory. Angelus is leering at her, and his words are intended to be chilling.

"Welcome to your new home. You'll spend a lot of your time here, although there are other areas you'll come to love. And look, you've got company! I hate to think of you girls being all alone while I'm away."

He moves slightly, allowing the girl to see the opposite wall. The shock I feel at what we see there is almost too much for a moment. It's Buffy, but she's almost unrecognisable. Rake-thin and filthy, her body covered in scars and partly healed areas that look like burns. Angel hardly pauses in his monologue to let the sight sink in.

"Do you think you'll last as long as she has? That's five years. But then, it's an art. You'll last longer than you'd think but that's my art. She's a good subject though. She's still not broken, not really. She'd still stake me if she had a chance. I just keep her weak enough that she doesn't have that chance. The trick is to find what she tolerates, what she really hates. Blood doesn't bother her. I can cut her, hit her, and somehow she copes with that. Burning her, now that's a different story. That wears down her resistance pretty quickly. And when I've got her tied to my bed … she hates that most of all. She hates that because she thought she had something special with me - as if I could love the child she was, as if a child would have any idea how to satisfy me. I wonder what you'll hate most - what'll bring a look of terror into your eyes?"

I can't take my eyes off Buffy. I know she's not my Buffy, but that doesn't seem to matter. The fury I feel is just as real as if it were. I can't imagine what he's done to her to make her scar like that. My Buffy's been hit, she's had broken limbs, she's taken a bullet, and there's never a mark to show for it once she's healed. I stare at her, and I'm not even sure I know how I recognised her so easily, until my gaze is drawn to her eyes. Her body looks broken, but her mind … she's still the same person inside, and she's looking at Angelus with an expression of loathing like I've never seen before.

Angelus makes his way across the room towards Buffy. There's a brazier, with long-handled implements heating there.

"You've had a holiday, haven't you, Lover? I'm sorry about that, but then you need to understand that it's not all about you. You haven't forgotten me, have you? You remember the little games we play and how much you enjoy them. And look, I've got a new toy."

He holds up one of the implements, and, although I can't see the detail, it's obvious it's a brand.

"I had this made 'specially for you. See? I'm the soul of generosity and I can't wait to see how it looks on you."

He puts the brand back in the fire, and rolls his shoulders before sliding out of the leather jacket he's wearing. I know the signs; he's getting himself comfortable for a long session.

There's the sound of footsteps approaching, and Angelus turns angrily towards them.

"What is it? Can't you follow a simple instruction?"

The vamp that appears is young, his face apparently not up to remaining in its human guise. He looks terrified.

"S…sorry Master. It's just … an emissary of the Three has arrived, and insisted on seeing you immediately."

Angelus screws up his eyes at that, taking several deep breaths before looking back towards the cowering vampire.

"Tell the emissary that I'll be there in a moment."

When he's gone, Angelus turns back towards Buffy.

"It looks like you'll have to be patient, Lover. Still, it'll give you the chance to get to know your new roomie. Just don't get jealous on me. You know you have to share, so I don't want any sulking. See you later."

He turns towards me/the other Slayer, checking that her chains are tight enough before blowing an exaggerated kiss at both girls and walking away.

Buffy's shoulders slump in relief. She's doing her best to seem strong, but that gesture shows just how much her defiance is costing her.

I make a determined effort to push my fury aside, and explore where I am. I can pick up on a lot of things from the girl, one of which is confirmation that this is Fiona, and beyond that, there's a perfectly understandable terror. My first instinct is to try to calm her. Apart from anything else, I'm finding it hard to think clearly between my own anger and her fear. I start slowly, gently, just repeating her name over and over, until I've got her attention. Of course, she doesn't know what it is that's whispering her name, but once she's listening, I try to explain that I'm a friend. Not surprisingly, she's just trying to shut me out, thinking that her fear is responsible for voices in her head, so I go further, recounting one of the fights Gus told me about, one where a vamp in a kilt was annoyed that she'd interrupted an argument he was having with another vamp. I push in as many details as I can remember, trying to at least persuade her that I'm a friend of Gus. At last, she's actually listening, so I try to explain what happened to her, and how we were trying to rescue her. When she seems to have suspended her disbelief, she's willing to at least listen.

"So, what's the plan?" There's a note of hope in her tone, and I'm wishing I could give her one - a plan that's simple and foolproof - but so far, I don't have one.

"Well, let's see. Do you think you could let me speak? I mean, using your voice. Can I try to control it?"

"You know what? This is freaky."

"And being transported to another dimension isn't?"

"Ok, ok. Try it. I won't stop you."

I feel around in her mind for a while, and then I give up trying to work it out, deciding to just speak as if I were in my own body. It works. The voice isn't mine, but, from the surprised note in Fiona's thoughts, the accent seems to be.

"Buffy, Buffy, can you hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you. He hasn't damaged my hearing - wants me to listen to what he says too much for that."

"Ok, Buffy. Listen. This girl, the one who seems to be talking to you, she's a Slayer."

"You don't say! He wouldn't waste his time on a mere human any more. Wouldn't last long enough to be interesting. And what do you mean, 'the one who seems to be talking' to me?"

"It's complicated. But this Slayer, she doesn't come from your world. She's been brought in from another one, one in which you, another you, managed to share the Slayer power so that every potential Slayer became a Slayer."

"Neat trick. Wish I'd thought of it."

"Yeah, well. A group of us, well, we've been trying to rescue the girls - there were others taken too - and Fiona here's the last one."

Fiona decides enough is enough and over-rides me then.

"Can we have a bit less chat? I thought you had a plan to get us out of here?"

The change in accent is obvious, so at least Buffy's got some chance to follow who's talking.

"I do, Pet," I answer her silently. "But part of it is finding out what Buffy knows about Angelus' habits."

She's silent then, leaving me to continue.

"You know? This is really confusing. You're really trying to tell me that you rescue people by taking over their bodies?"

"Not as a rule. Didn't mean to do it this time either, but that's just how it worked out. Look, I need you to think. Is there something we can do, some opportunity that you haven't been strong enough to take …?"

"Not a chance. I've tried everything. I've even died four times. He just keeps bringing me back - got a special shaman for that. Last time, he said I was too damaged for him to do it again. I'm all mixed up inside - bits have healed all wrong. Seems there's a limit to Slayer healing after all."

"Look, Buffy, Pet, just think."

"Pet? Who are you? Do I … know you?"

"Er, no," I manage. Telling her who I am with her history might just guarantee that she won't help at all.

"If he doesn't know you, then why does he keep getting pictures of you in his head without all the scars, and … wait. He loves you, or someone who looks very like you."

"Ok, I admit. I know a version of you. But that's not important. I'm here to try to get Fiona home, and get you out of here."

"Won't work."

"What won't work? It isn't like you to just give up."

"Five years of Angelus; are you sure? But that's not what I mean. There's something about this place, some enchantment. Without it, I'm already dead. Escape to anything other than death isn't an option, and right now, death seems like a very good idea."

I can hear someone approaching, so I quickly tell Buffy, "Think. Just think. Any ideas, any at all."

There's a long pause before she answers. "He's most vulnerable when he unchains us. I think it's part of the thrill for him – a Slayer who's too weak to hurt him. That's the only chance. Probably later, once he's had enough in here, he'll make me shower - tell me I'm filthy. There's a short time then when there are no chains, just him holding me. With you here, he'll probably have back up – just in case. He used to for me too, at the start."

"Who? Dru?"

"Dru? The only people I know who call her that are Angel and Spike."

"I've heard about her from Angel," I say quickly. "He got his soul back in my universe."

"Are you ... Angel?" Her tone holds a wistfulness that's heartbreaking.

"No, not him."

"So, even with the soul back, we don't ..."

"Your choice, Pet. In the end, you chose to go a different way."

"Oh." I can hear from her tone of voice that she doesn't quite believe me, maybe can't bring herself to believe that things could be different, but she goes on anyway. "No, it won't be Dru. She left … near the start. She didn't like the amount of time he was spending with me, and Spike took her off somewhere."

"So, who?"

"Whichever female vamps he's got around. They don't last long - he gets annoyed with them and stakes them. He won't let any of the males in on it – one of them had some ideas a couple of years ago."

"Will Fiona be unchained then too?"

"Probably. He might want her just to watch, or he might want to have a go. You never know."

There's a frisson of fear running through Fiona that's in addition to the overall terror she's feeling.

"Ok, good. Fiona, you ok to act then?"

"I can try," she admits. "But staking him, even if we can do it, won't get us home."

"No, Pet."

"So how …?"

"I'm working on it. Honestly, I'm working on it."

I go back to questioning Buffy, not knowing how long we've got until Angelus gets back.

"What about other security? Can we get away from here? How many has he got around?"

"I don't know. I only see them one or two at a time, and they're always different. He tells me that he's staked this one or that one, so I get the feeling that he just makes a few vamps when he needs them, and then stakes them when they annoy him."

"But they're probably all young?"

"Probably. I don't know."

"That's good. Young vamps are still growing into their power - they shouldn't be a problem for a healthy Slayer - especially with me helping."

"If I'm fighting, just keep out of my way. It's not going to help me to have you yammering in my head." Fiona sounds annoyed at the prospect, but that's good. Annoyed is better than scared.

In the silence that follows, I'm desperately trying to work out a way to get us back. Without Willow, I can't even see a way of getting out of Fiona's head, let alone back to my own body. The smell of Buffy's blood is so strong, I can actually taste it. I look her over, trying to see how she's hurt, but I can't see anything fresh, anything that could account for the smell/taste.

"What's that?" Fiona asks, mainly herself, but me too.

"What?"

"That taste. I know you're getting it too. It's like blood - like I cut my finger and sucked on it."

"Buffy," I ask. "Are you bleeding anywhere?"

"Nothing fresh," she answers. "Angelus likes to start with a clean slate from time to time. He knows it's always worse that way."

That little fact is one I already know from my own experience, but it doesn't answer the question. I concentrate on the flavour. It's real Buffy. My Buffy. But … I got pretty good at ignoring Slayer signals that weren't native to my world. This Buffy would have that 'not-quite-rightness' about her blood that's common for Slayers in all the other worlds. So, if I'm getting my Buffy …

I concentrate hard on the taste, trying to find its source. It's outside of Fiona, and I experiment, trying to work out how I can follow it, and then I spot a way out. In fact, I'm almost outside Fiona before I realise it, and I go back quickly, not wanting to leave without explaining my plan.

"I think I've found a way to get back. I'm going to go, follow it, and I'll try to bring back someone who'll help. Please, just keep calm. I'll be back; I promise."

It's obvious that Fiona doesn't believe me, and I can feel her desperately trying to hold onto my presence in her mind.

"Fiona, what do you think Gus'd do to me if he thought I'd abandoned you here?"

"He'd …" A series of lurid pictures follow, with Gus looking at least seven feet tall in each of them.

"Yeah, well, let's not go into details, but we both know it wouldn't be pretty. I'll be back."

And with that, I lurch outside, following a thread that I can feel rather than see. It's fine to the point of almost breaking at times, but it holds true, and at last, I feel that free-fall sensation that I associate with rejoining my body. I open my eyes to find my Buffy, her red-rimmed eyes on my face and her thumb rather incongruously in my mouth.

Instinctively, I run my tongue over the cut on her thumb, savouring the taste of her blood. She's staring at me, as if she doesn't quite believe that I'm back, and then her arms are around my neck and she's kissing me, and for a second, the rest of the world, of the universe, fades into nothing.