Playtime

She was left alone with her thoughts. In some ways, time to think was worse than the blind terror she felt when her captor was near. The time allowed her an opportunity to scare herself, to think of the worst case scenario.



And for a realization to occur to her.



She had been targeted. He knew her name. Her full name. Something which was not common knowledge. Either he had been stalking her for a long time, or he had gotten the information from someone she considered a friend.



She had been betrayed. Possibly even sold.



The last thing she could remember before awakening here was going to bed on a pallet at the 188 Trading Post. Others had been there. This Legion slaver had waltzed right into a crowded, NCR-protected trading post and taken her.



How long had he been following her? What else did he know? And most of all, why her? She wanted to know why, but she doubted the answer would be forthcoming.



All she could do was wait.