Parker Abrams looked at the blonde girl sitting next to him. She was pretty enough in that certain way so many of the California girls were, all tan and toned and smiling like life was actually commercial good. He would have let this one go, but the job was the job.
He dumped the powder in her drink while she was distracted. He got her up and moving as they sipped their drinks. He needed her away from the crowd. Her eyes began to droop. The drug always hit them hard. She'd be out for hours. Hell, she'd wake up in his bed tomorrow and assume they'd spent the night together.
Buffy stumbled and he grabbed her arm. She was such a tiny little thing that her weight didn't bother him at all. They just needed to get to a viable extraction point.
"I should get back to my dorm." Buffy smiled shyly.
"I guess it is too soon to ask you to spend the night with me." He stroked her cheek. He could see the pick up team coming up behind her. He kissed her and rubbed her neck. This one was cute.
Buffy shuddered and pushed back from him.
"No." She wrenched herself free of his hand and took three awkward steps away from him. "Too warm."
She flipped around and collapsed into Finn's arms.
"Did she take the full dose, Parker?"
"Good work, we'll have her in the release zone at five thirty unless she warrants further testing."
"I know the drill."
"Yes, I suppose you do." The blonde man's sneer bothered him.
"Yes, sir." Parker snarled. Drugging young girls and turning them into test subjects wasn't what he had joined the Air Force to do. Most days, he loathed his own reflection.
Finn nodded and carried the subject off. Parker closed his eyes. Tomorrow he would crush the girl, just like all the others. He hated himself. This wasn't research. Buffy had been so sweet. He opened his eyes and watched as Finn carried her in to the facility through one of the concealed doors. A bottle of something strong would get him through the night. He headed back toward his room.
Willow knew she had to go to Giles. She stared at the stuffed pig resting against Buffy's pillows and bit her lip. There was no more room for denial.
Buffy was missing. She wasn't sleeping elsewhere, not without calling, and she hadn't been to class. Slaying kept her busy, but she rarely missed class.
No, someone had taken the slayer. She bit her lip and grabbed her purse. Giles needed to be told. He would know what to do.
Buffy became aware of the world around her slowly. This was her third room. She smelled the antiseptic scent of a hospital and tried to remember what had happened. They had undressed her in the first one. Then they'd sprayed her with a hose. The water had been far too cold and the humans wielding the hose had refused to talk to her. Hell, they didn't really see her. When she had fought the idiot with the taser had dropped her hard.
Being dragged into the next room by a man while she was so exposed had stripped her of any dignity.
Her body wouldn't respond. She felt her legs being moved and some sort of support being placed behind her knees. When her legs swung wide, she managed to open her eyes.
"The cold slide of the speculum hurt her. It was cold and huge. She couldn't move at all. She couldn't speak. Fingers touched her, not gently.
"Is she ready?" That voice sounded like her psych professor.
"Another round of injections should do it." It was a man's voice. "She'll be ready tomorrow morning."
"She's aware." Professor Walsh came into her line of sight.
"The paralytic will hold her steady for days. It's best really." The man moved his hand inside her and she wanted to scream. "Have you picked a demon subject?"
"We have five options in the cells, but we might haul in something better tonight." Walsh stroked her hair. "She'll be our Eve."
"Would you pass me the dose?"
Walsh smiled and lifted the stainless steel syringe where she could see it. It was huge. What the hell were they shooting into her? She shuddered as a latex covered hand took hold of it. She counted.
One. The glide of his fingers on her sensitive flesh.
Two. The clicking of the speculum as he pushed it wider.
Three. The pinch of the needle deep inside her.
She tried to pull her legs free, but nothing happened. She tried to move, but her body wouldn't respond. Tears ran from her eyes in hot streaks to her hair. She managed to take a deep breath.
The needle slid from her and she wanted to pull her legs together. The sudden heat between her legs was awful. What the hell was the drug doing?
"Do you think this series of injections will be enough?" Walsh pressed a needle into her arm.
"I have enough of the serum to do three more of the cervical doses and five of the drug cocktail, but I doubt we need to use them." The man rested his hand on her thigh like she was a table.
"Would it better our chances if we used them?"
"There is no way to know. This has never been attempted."
"Then give her as much as you can before the implantation." Walsh smiled. "We can always synthesize more."
Buffy felt the fingers on one hand flex. The drugs seemed to be wearing off. She forced her body to remain still. She needed them to believe she was still caught while her body came back to her.
Time was measured in the torture of shots. No one spoke to her. She was just a thing. She shifted an arm as the bastard finally pulled the speculum from her body. She was on fire. Whatever they had given her was making her burn inside. She could feel her powers surging. Survival. It was everything. The slayer had to survive.
She wanted to hunt. She wanted to take her prey down and revel in her victory. The slayer surged to the fore. The small whimpers of the girl were lost in the quest for survival.
"The subject is responding intensely to experimental cocktail three. I doubt we will need restraints." He was speaking into a recorder with his back to her. He was weak. He had hurt the girl. This was unacceptable. She sat up in a fluid motion and snarled as he turned toward her. She grabbed the speculum and hit him with it. He dropped to the ground like a stone. She yanked his white jacket off of his body and shrugged into it. She nudged him with her toe.
Her body burned. She snarled. The thing on the floor was not prey, but she wanted to kill it. This whimpering creature had hurt her. It's like could not be trusted.