Summary: Willow is captured by Rack.

Spoilers: Umm...Smashed/Wrecked, I guess.

Disclaimer: If I owned them, I'd have them all in an naked orgy.

My Notes: This is a really short fic, but there might be a sequel coming soon.


With a contented sigh, Rack layed down on his couch. He could still feel the energy of them all clamouring against his mind. Eddies of power poured from his fingers and he smiled, remembering how delicious they had been. But not as delicious as HER.

Leaning back, his hand behind his head, he smiled up at the ceiling. A crackle of flame arched from his fingers and light poured into the room.

"They taste so good, birdie. But not as good as you." He seemed to be speaking to the air, but the darkness gave nothing away. Suddenly, the light got brighter as he flexed his power.

His little bird winced away from the light and he chuckled in his throat, his tongue slipping past his teeth to lick at his lips. He was hungry. He stood and summoned her down to him, the chain holding her cage slipping its bonds and rattling down to him.

"How is my little bird?" He asked, grabbing at the bars of the spinning cage. It twirled, and she faced him, green eyes wide. Her hair hung in limp, red strands and she was thin, pale and drawn. She was frightened of him, as he well knew.

"How is my little Strawberry?" He asked, spinning the cage so that she was closer to him. She shrank from him, as she had done in the beginning.

Back in the beginning, when she was naive and new to the world of majick. Back when Rack made her think that she came to him willingly. And when she had stopped coming to him, stopped using majick all together, he was angry. His Strawberry would not come to him.

So he came to her.

Ages had passed since that day, when her world was narrowed to a wrought-iron cage and a cruel, insatiable master. She tried majick at first, but the bars would not bend and the chain would not slip. Everything around her was warded against her majick. Her majick having failed her, she tried to break the bars, but her strength could not twist the metal apart. Her master did not intend for her to escape.

Now she was a ghost, and he fed from her nightly. The first time he had drained her made him angry. With enchanted eyes, he saw the reasons. She herself had tapped into a powerful place in her soul, a vast power source that she had barely scraped the surface of. Oh yes, she was a powerful one. In some ways, he envied that power, but he had it now. Yes, his little Strawberry was a powerful birdie, just not as powerful as she should could have been.

So, with a twist, he had torn open her channels, stretched them wide and burned her up inside. She had screamed and he felt the power pour from her. Now she was an endless buffet of majick for him to feed off of.

"Strawberry's not happy." Rack said, his pouted lip veiling the cruel smile. A touch of his finger and the bars of the cage twisted open enough for his arm to slip inside. This time she shrank away from him like he was poison.

"I just want a taste, Strawberry. Just one taste or Daddy'll make you sing." Fear blossomed in her chest and she remembered the last time she had avoided his touch. He made her sing for him and she was still torn, bleeding in places that would never heal. With a shudder, she gave in to his questing arm.

His palm was warm against her cold skin and she felt a snap like a torpedo of flame searing through her chest. Her head flew back and he drank deeply from her, power spreading like chocolate across his tongue. His eyes crackled and he gulped back a moan. She gritted her teeth, eyes fluttering as she felt her life give way to him.

Then, as if it were becoming more difficult with every drink, he drew his hand back. The power cord between them snapped and she sagged against the bars, chest heaving, mind numb.

"Mmm...My little Strawberry. You taste better with every drink." He whispered as she retreated back into the space she called her mind. A flick of his wrist and the bars bent back into shape.

"Good night, my little birdie." He said, walking away as the chain pulled the cage back up to the impossibly high ceiling.

Willow felt tears leaking from her eyes, but she ignored them. She had no hope of ever escaping this place. Her friends would come for her. Tara would find her. But no one ever came and she was still here, an exotic bird for him to feed off of. And so it was that her hope flickered out. They would never find her and she would die, drained, her soul raped nightly by a cruel, thirsty master.

Somewhere in the darkness, Strawberry cried out at the loss of hope, but no one heard. No one would ever hear her but him. In the darkness, Rack smiled.