Work Text:
Warren hadn't really thought of himself as a religious person. Sunnydale had a lot of religious people, although they probably thought of it more as self-defence. The abstract concepts Warren felt most in tune with had been mathematical theorem, not spiritual ideology. Unfortunately, as soon as his heart stopped beating, his hereditary religion had suddenly noticed that one of their own was back, and was in need of a spanking.
If only mathematics or engineering had been a religion, Warren pondered. He could have coped with an eternity of being battered with faulty hypotheses and metal fatigue statistics. No, he had to get the fire and brimstone version of the afterlife. If only he'd known, he'd have converted to something that wasn't quite so hard on... well, everything.
Reincarnation might have been okay. Life as a flatworm had to be better than fire, fire, fire and on Sunday, just for a change, fire. Funny how something so agonisingly painful could eventually become boring. Actually, it wasn't funny, it was probably supposed to be boring: a little bonus torment. Oh joy.
Even so, he still felt a stab of terror when he felt himself suddenly tugged away from the flames. They'd found something worse?
Landing naked and singed on cold concrete was a surprise. Apart from a bruised elbow it hadn't hurt much at all. In fact, feeling cold was positively orgasmic. He spread himself face down on the concrete, trying to get as much of his body pressed into the floor as possible.
"Mmmm, I don't normally like hairy boys, but that's very tempting."
Warren scrambled to his feet, and glared at the owner of the voice: a scrawny older man, visible only in dim emergency lighting, sitting on a flimsy looking bunk, currently decorated with strange symbols drawn in... Warren sniffed, cinnamon and blood?
"Please excuse my manners. I'm Ethan. How do you do?"
Warren was confused. "What the fuck is going on?" His voice sounded harsh to his ears, not surprising since the only thing he'd been doing with it recently had been screaming.
"Ah, a no-nonsense sort of chap. Forget the niceties and cut straight to the chase. Probably for the best. I assume you haven't been dead very long?"
"I don't know. What's the date?" Warren suddenly remembered he was naked and brought his hands around to hide his cock.
Ethan chuckled. "You've got nothing to be ashamed of, lad. It's somewhere in 2004. Not sure of the exact date, but its probably still spring."
Warren blinked. He was sure it had to have been longer than that. "Are you sure?"
"Felt like longer, did it?"
"Hell no. Time really flies when you're burning in excruciating agony. What do you want?"
Ethan licked the corner of his blanket and started washing the symbols off his face. "I'm in jail. A very special sort of jail, for people with... special abilities. I'm a warlock."
"Okay, but what does that have to do with me?"
Now it was Ethan's turn to look confused. "You know, usually when I say that, people laugh."
Warren shrugged. "I grew up in Sunnydale."
"Ah. Well, that'll cut through a lot of tiresome explanations. Have you heard of The Initiative?"
"A bunch of military incompetents who futzed around with tech and magic until they got their asses royally kicked and had to be bailed out by the Buffy bitch?" Warren had heard the rumours, and Jonathan had passed on some stuff he'd overheard while hanging around the edges of Buffy's fan club.
Ethan had finished his face and started on his arms. The blanket was starting to look pretty disgusting. "Not entirely incompetent, unfortunately. They caught me, and imprisoned me here. There's a mystical field over the whole facility that neutralises most magic. It's a right pain in the arse."
"But not all magic?
"Well obviously, or you wouldn't be here. And it took me almost a year to collect enough cinnamon to work the Summoning." He shuddered. "If I never see another apple pie again it'll still be too soon. They're very careful not to give us things that we can use to Summon or Cast, but I've been studying magic for almost forty years. I know a lot more than they do." Ethan smirked.
Warren suddenly realised he could feel his heart beating. "Am I alive?"
Ethan looked uncomfortable. "No. You're dead. You're just... temporarily, not as dead as usual. It's sort of cheating, but I was desperate."
Warren edged away. "Desperate for what, exactly?"
Ethan grinned. "Well, that too, but don't worry, if I was going to summon someone to fuck, I'd have specified 'pretty' instead of 'genius'. I need someone who knows which end of spanner to use to get me out of here."
Warren stared at the blank walls. "You have a spanner?"
"Mmm, no." Ethan reached under his blanket. "But I have this."
'This' turned out to be a small radio, three types of battery, a TV remote control, five inches of coaxial cable, a cook's blowtorch, and a fork. "There's a sensor next to the door. You're an engineering genius. Do I need to draw a picture?"
Warren gaped at Ethan. "Do I look like the fucking A-Team?"
"Well... if you can't help, I could just send you back." Ethan made a vague banishing gesture with his hand. "Now hurry up, it's almost four am already."
"Well, fuck." Warren picked up the assortment of wires and gadgets.
"Mmm, maybe later, lovely."
Warren rolled his eyes; did he attract weird gay Summoners or something? First Andrew and now this guy. Still... if Ethan had the power to keep him out of Hell he might be persuaded to perform a hand-job or two. He'd done worse to keep Andrew in line. Warren managed to prise the cover off the door sensor and started pulling all sorts of electrical crap out of the wall. Most of it seemed to be dummy wiring, probably used to distract prisoners from the real stuff or to... oh yeah, here were a bunch of live ones, primed to shock anybody who touched them. He could tap some power off there, once he found the real door controls, which should be... there.
The door slid open with a quiet whoosh, reminding Warren of the original Trek doors. He suppressed a smile as Ethan shot out of the door. "What now? Got any more doors need opened?" Warren kept his voice low and seductive, it had always been very effective with Andrew. Sometimes all he'd had to do was say a few words in those low tones, and Andrew would immediately roll over and do whatever Warren wanted.
Ethan looked Warren up and down, a faint smile on his lips. "Maybe." He replied, pulling a wicked looking home-made knife out of his pants. "Why don't you stay for a while, just in case?"
Two corridors down a guard found them, fortunately he was rather too distracted by the sight of Warren naked to notice Ethan and his knife. Warren made a face at the mess.
"What? You've never killed anyone?" Ethan asked.
"Not on purpose."
"Sissy."
Warren glared. "That's what you have minions for, asshole."
"Oh God, don't tell me. You have a Lex Luthor complex." Ethan wiped his knife on the guard's uniform and looted his pockets. "Wallet, oh good, money, credit cards, eugh... hideous wife. Lets see... ah ha! Keys."
"You might want to take that Taser on his belt too. Unless you prefer running around in gore?" Warren said.
Ethan picked up the Taser like it was a snake. "I've never been very good with gadgets. I don't think they like me."
"Give it to me then."
Ethan hesitated. "I don't think so. What's to stop you using it on me?"
"Hmm, let me think... Oh yes, if I piss you off, you send me back to Hell. Sound like a good enough reason?"
Ethan shrugged and threw the Taser to Warren. "I hate to spoil the view, but those trousers look about your size."
Warren almost blushed. He'd forgotten he was naked.
"Hurry up, there's a guard station between here and the back door. Shift change is at six am, so the guards should be tired after a night's work."
Warren cursed and tugged on the pants, then followed Ethan down the hall. Warren grinned when he saw the set up; the guard station was a steel desk behind a wall of steel bars, with a steel door. "I bet you're glad you gave me this now, aren't you?" Warren asked, waving the Taser at Ethan.
"What?"
Warren darted out the shadows and pressed the Taser against the bars before the guard on duty could do more than blink. The current raced through the bars and into the desk, shocking the guard unconscious. Warren allowed himself a moment of smugness.
Ethan sighed. "So much more than a pretty... arse."
Warren bowed theatrically as Ethan used the first guard's keys to unlock the door. The back door wasn't even locked, and they made their was cautiously through the car park.
"Ah." Ethan took a deep breath. "Freedom smells so good."
Warren grinned. "Oh yes, and I can think of so many things to do with it. This time will be different: this time I won't let my temper get in the way. This time..." Warren stared at the knife in his chest. "Well fuck."
"Sorry, my boy," Ethan said, "but you were draining mystical energy I really need right now. Save me a spot in the fiery damnation won't you?"
Warren was pretty pissed off at how easily Ethan had bested him, but he consoled himself with the fact that before his sight faded, he'd seen five Initiate operatives sneaking up from behind.
The End.