Strange maybe, but that's the first thing she could think of, her foot tingled. She stretched it and felt the floor underneath it. Her hands touched something soft and her back was supported.
Her first decision was to open her eyes, her second was to straighten up. Her third was to ask a question.
"Where am I?"
Fred stared up at the young man in front of her. He moved away a few feet and picked up a small teapot.
It was then that Fred noticed she was holding on to a cup.
"Would you like some tea?"
Fred opened her mouth for a second, slamming it shut the next. She held out her cup and he filled it. The heat steaming up from out of the porcelain into her face.
She didn't sip. Yet.
The man in front of her had his back to her now. He placed the teapot pack on the toble, on a silver plate holding one more cup and a small pot with suger. Not small white sugar cubes, but small brownish bits of sugar.
Her host filled a cup for himself and turned back around. His hand moved to his head, straightening his glasses, and moving brownish curls back out of his face. He was dressed in light gray clothing, the kind you saw in period movies. Late nineteenth century style.
Fred finally sipped from her cup and found herself liking it. Still a slight bit too hot though. She took her spoon and spinned it around her cup.
He'd moved to the fireplace. Shadows played across his face, leaving reflections of the flames in his glasses. The both of them were waiting, awkwardly for the other to say something. Her host barely even looked at her. Fred let her eyes wander away from him, noticing the small prints and pictures around the room. Paitings, small furnishings, all refined, classics. Not a thing out of place.
The servingplatter on the cornertable wasn't just silverish, it gleamed with the light, the spoons felt heavy, expensive. The teapot on the platter was porcelain. Rich blueish porcelain. The tea in it still let free the occasional burst of steam.
"So..." The man finally started, she turned back to look at him. He stopped.
"So..." Fred responded., trying to avoid her hosts eyes.
"I don't get many visitors here." he let out.
"Nobody I'd want. I'm still fixing the place up from the last visit I've had."
Noises rose out from the hallway. Tapping, someone or something was moving there, scraping on the door. She only now noticed the chains holding it shut.
Someone was pounding on the wood now.
Her host stayed in place.
"William." The name singsonged from a female voice.
"William, sweet Willy. Are you in there."
Fred could see him turn away, his back turned to the door as he leaned up against the mantle of the fireplace. He dropped the teacup, it splattered all over the floor. Leaving a mess.
There were other things wrong in the room as well. Red stains in the carpets, little cracks in the walls. A red hue all over the portraits.
Working men's boots stood in the corner, a bowler hat was torn yet still hanging on its hook.
William was trembling, she noticed. Yet he stood up again, picking up the teapot, pouring in a new cup. His hands shaking. Drops stained the porcelain.
"Would you like another cup?"
Gunn was shouting into the phone. Demanding for someone to be pulled in as soon as possible. Angel was talking to a doctor. And Wesley stood still, his hand on the glass keeping him from touching out to Fred. Noone was allowed in. Not untill they knew for sure it wasn't yet another virus.
Fred was in the first bed, surrounded by heart monitors, a respirator, ready if needed...She seemed so small in between the sheets. Her head sunken into her pillow.
There was only one other bed in the room. That one didn't have a heart monitor, it didn't have anything but the bed and it's occupant. If you didn't know that the body in the bed belonged to a vampire, you might be tempted to think the patient had just died.
Spike's eyes had been open when they found them. The doctor had closed them to protect him from dehydration. They'd found him in Fred's lab, the both of them had fallen to the floor, lying there who knows how long till Knox had found them.
There'd been no trace of sleeping gas, nothing indicating they were knocked out and aside of the fact that they simply refused to wake up, you'd probably think they were just sleeping.
The doctor wouldn't even allow any of them in.