The day dawned bright on Sunnydale High School. Students arriving for class seemed bright and chipper, many reveling in the glory of a double chocolate mocha from the local Starbucks. As usual, the halls were filled with the hustle and bustle of teens chatting about the upcoming weekend, what they were going to wear to the Bronze, the homework they were going to leave for Sunday. The world seemed light and new.

Well, except for one student. Rupert Giles looked up as still of the library was broken. The little blonde Slayer trudged in, her feet dragging across the shining floor.

"Good morning Buffy… did you have a rough patrol last night?"

She looked up, and Giles saw the dark rings under Buffy Summers’ eyes. "No… Slayage was really of the quiet. I guess not having the Crazed Couple around anymore has thinned down the vampness." Buffy leaned on the book counter, stretching her arms forward like a languid cat.

"But when I got home, I found my mother lying down in bed, coughing majorly. I was up for the rest of the night taking care of her."

"Your mother is sick, then?" Concern danced across the eyes behind his wire rimmed glasses.

"Very. She’s come down with a totally nasty case of the flu." Buffy yawned loudly. "And she needs me to take care of her… so I need to get out of patrol tonight."

"Oh, of course. Angel and I can patrol for you tonight."

"That’s so great. My Watcher gets to see more of my boyfriend than me." Stretching her arms upward, Buffy picked up her books. "Well, I gotta book. Snyder is already on my case enough. I need to make an appearance at class."

"Tell your mother I wish her the quickest recovery."

As Buffy walked out the library’s double doors, she tossed a reply over her shoulder. "Can do."

*****

Somewhere Below London, England. 1789

Darkness.

"H-he-hello?" Kathryne’s voice rang out softly as she came to.

As she came up from unconsciousness, two things became apparently clear. She was freezing. The entire backside of her body was lying against an icy surface… she could feel the goosebumps prickling at her skin. Her naked skin. The fact that she was completely and utterly unclothed hit her like a bucket of water. The clammy draft blowing above passed over her exposed breasts, and she could feel her nipples crinkle and harden. Attempting to bring her arms around her chest for warmth, Kathryne noticed something else: she couldn’t. Her arms were bound tightly at a slight angle upwards, on either side of her head. Pulling them gently, she realized that she did not have any give. Testing her legs, she concluded the same.

She was defenseless.

Feeling a lump in her throat start to grow, Kathryne choked out another plea:

"Hello? Is someone out there?"

But there was no response.

Her eyes, behind the folds of cloth, began to grow wet with unshed tears. Trying once again to struggle, Kathryne was only welcomed with a growing cramp in her arm. Biting her lower lip, she withstood the urge to cry out. Breathing deeply through her nose, waiting for the sharp waves of pain to pass, Kathryne trembled.

*What is going to happen to me?*

The cramp passing, she let out a faint breath of relief.

Only to draw another in sharply as a cold hand passed over the flat pane of her stomach.

"Hello?"

But only silence greeted her. Silence and the feeling of the wintry palm sliding up and over her right breast. The feeling of hands cold as ice pulling on her nipples roughly. Kathryne bucked her back sharply, letting out a sharp cry of pain as the bonds pulled on her joints.

"Who’s th-t-there?" she stuttered out, her body quaking with fear.

A pair of lips pressed themselves to her ear, lips cold as the grave, and there was no breath of warmth coming from them.

"Just you wait, ma chere," a sweet feminine voice filling Kathryne’s ear. "You shall see soon enough…"