"What do you think you're doing?" Frances said. "Fighting a demon with your hands? And where is Noor?"

"Way to thank me for saving your life," Buffy snapped. Her clawed palms hurt, and she looked down at them to see how deep the cuts were.

"I only came out here to observe your progress, and if I'd been able to track you and Noor together, I'd not have been forced to get out of the transport and endanger myself in the first place," Frances said. "And I need to have a look at those cuts -- and at the Gryra --"

"The cuts aren't deep," Buffy said with a shrug.

"Well, every now and then you find a Gryra demon with poison in their claws," Frances said as she leaned over to look at the demon's smoldering remains.

Buffy stared down at her hands. The cuts weren't that deep at all.

"Hmm," Frances said. "As I thought. No white stripes on the limbs. Should be fine, then --"

Just little cuts. Nothing major. Nothing to worry about.

"-- but you really could have been in trouble, you know --"

"Was it poisonous?" Buffy said.

Frances blinked. "Was I not clear? No, this isn't one of the poisonous ones."

"Are you sure?" Buffy was still staring down at her hands. They were shaking violently. "Are you sure this one wasn't poisonous? My back! It got my back too -- are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Frances said coolly. "We need to find Noor this instant --"

"Because if we need to get an antidote or do a spell or something we should do it really fast, like, right now, Frances. We have to really hurry because there might not be time if we don't hurry. So we have to be fast and we have to go right now and make sure that there's no poison --"

"Buffy!" Frances crisp voice seemed to cut off Buffy's broken jabbering. The last words choked in her throat. She didn't stop shaking. "Get some control over of yourself."

"Okay," Buffy said, speaking more to herself than Frances. "Okay. I'll be okay."

More gently, Frances said, "Let me see those cuts."

Buffy held out her hands, then turned so Frances could see her back. "Not poisonous?" Buffy asked through chattering teeth.

"No," Frances said, taking Buffy's elbow to steer her toward the transport. "You're very lucky, Buffy. You could have had much worse."

"I know," Buffy whispered.

**

"You came back without Noor?" Ishak said, his forehead furrowed with concern.

"They're looking for her now," Frances said, her voice raised slightly to carry the length of Ishak's Hall. A handful of Watchers, all but one apparently roused from sleep, had been gathered together there.

Angel, of course, would have been wide awake. Buffy could almost feel him watching her from his place at the far end of the room. But she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes, or anyone else's; she sat trembling in her chair, unable to collect her thoughts or her strength.

Markwith was seated next to Ishak, and though nobody in the room appeared to be very happy, he looked angrier than anyone else. "Buffy, what were you thinking? Since your arrival we have stressed, over and over, how dangerous it is for you to patrol on your own --"

"It felt weird," Buffy said in a voice that sounded small and pathetic, even to her own ears.

"I beg your pardon? Did you just attempt to excuse an egregious breach of all Council protocol by saying that looking to your own safety 'felt weird'? Is that what we're to understand?" Markwith demanded.

"Markwith --" Angel said, his tone a warning.

Markwith cut him off with an impatient gesture of his hand. "I'd prefer to hear an explanation from someone who was there and might know. Can you shed any light on this, Buffy? On why you would do something so irresponsible?"

"It -- felt -- weird," Buffy said, putting a little more strength behind her words. "I felt like I wanted to see the city for myself. And I never patrolled with anybody I didn't really know. And really trust."

"You don't trust Noor?" Frances said.

"It's not that! I just mean that -- that --" Buffy gestured with her still-aching hands, trying to grab at the words she hadn't found, even for herself. "Slaying's not about rules. It's about instinct. Whatever it is that makes me the Slayer -- it's deep inside me. It's a part of me. And I have to listen to that first. That's what makes me good at this. That's what keeps me alive."

A brief pause followed her words. Buffy could tell that some of the Watchers were carefully considering what she'd said.

Markwith was not. "Forgive me for saying it, Buffy, but your records suggest that, many times, this was what almost got you killed." Buffy felt her body go cold; the stripes of pain across her back throbbed with fresh pain. "I have no doubt that your Watcher was a good man, but my review of his records suggests he was rather -- lax -- in your discipline. You may have enjoyed that freedom at the time, Buffy, but his failure to --"

"Giles was not a failure!" she cried. "Giles understood this! He wasn't some -- some -- pointy-headed pencil-pusher who tried to run my life like, like, I don't know -- Dilbert's boss or something."

Frances sighed and said, to no one in particular, "Do you understand anything she's saying?"

"Yes," Angel said. The others all turned to look at him, and to Buffy's surprise, Angel actually smiled. "I understood every word. It's weird, the things you remember -- Dilbert was -- it was a cartoon, right, Buffy?"

Buffy felt the sob that had been welling in her throat suddenly turn into a short little laugh. "Yeah."

"Right!" Angel said. "Well, Dilbert was this little guy who worked in an office, and he had a necktie that went like this --" Angel made a swooshy motion with his hand in front of his chest, and Buffy laughed again. Nobody else at the table did. Angel dropped his hand and looked somewhat abashed. "What Buffy's saying is that you can't let the form of the rules be more important than their intent. The most important thing is letting the Slayer do her job to the best of her ability."

"Our rules are designed for that purpose --" Frances began, but Angel cut her off.

"Our rules work well for the Slayers who were trained to work with them," he said. "But maybe they don't work so well for Buffy."

"So what are you suggesting?" Markwith said. "That we simply send Buffy out without backup every night? I should have thought you'd be more concerned for her safety."

"I am concerned," Angel said. "I just think Buffy should have a say in this."

"The Slayers don't make the rules," Frances insisted. "And we're not going to break them because of her former Watcher's bad habits."

"A word of warning," Buffy said. "I'm injured right now. But if you guys ever start badmouthing Giles when I've got my full strength, you're gonna learn a lot about MY bad habits."

"Buffy, please refrain from threatening members of the Council," Ishak said, calmly enough. "You're upset. Understandably so. Is there perhaps some middle ground here? Can you think of a compromise?"

"I should come on patrols with you instead," Frances offered, "That's standard procedure, after all. Or we could try one of the other Slayers --"

"No. I don't want that -- I don't know what I -- " Buffy sighed and put her hand to her forehead, then winced with renewed pain. She looked at her injured hands -- and the answer came to her in a rush. "Angel," Buffy said. "I'll patrol with Angel."

Nobody seemed delighted that this simple solution had presented itself. The Watchers all shifted uneasily in their seats. Angel himself looked more surprised than anything else. Ishak was the first to speak. "Buffy -- we've not permitted Angel to patrol for decades now."

"What? Are you crazy?" Buffy said. "You need to kill as many vampires and demons as you can, right? Take it from someone who's fought him: Angel can kick some serious ass."

"Something happened," Angel said. "About forty years ago. I was flushing some demons out of nest, and I let a Brachen demon go."

"Oh, wait, I know this one," Buffy said. "The ones with the green faces with little pointy things. They're peaceful, right? No harm, no foul?"

"Peaceful, yes. They'd never hurt anyone. But most humans don't understand that. And when some people saw me let the demon go -- well, they weren't happy."

"Well, who cares?" Buffy shrugged. "So they got their panties in a wad. Since when did you start worrying what people think?"

Angel said nothing. It was Ishak who said, gently, "People have a great deal of difficulty with the idea of a vampire on the Council. When they saw him letting a demon go free, they interpreted it wrongly. The end result was something of a mob scene, I'm afraid."

The room was deathly quiet. Buffy finally said, "They hurt you?"

"I made it through," Angel said. "If you want me to patrol with you, Buffy, then I think we should do it."

"Angel, no," Ishak said. "We all want to assist Buffy. But you must not take such risks again. You were six years getting your strength back --"

"Nothing's gonna happen to Angel," Buffy said, with more confidence than she felt. How badly did a vampire have to be hurt for healing to take six years? But the thought of Angel so badly wounded when he had only been trying to help filled her with an anger fueled her determination. "I -- I won't let it. I'll watch his back, and he'll watch mine."

"You're meant to be operating as the Slayer, not as Angel's bodyguard," Frances said. "It's counterproductive."

"No, it isn't," Angel said. "Buffy and I were a good team. We fought well together. And I'm not going to let her take any risks on my behalf."

"Any more risks, I think you mean," Frances said, with the cold assurance of someone who had, undoubtedly, finished reading Giles' diaries.

Angel was unfazed. "Yes. That's what I mean."

"I don't like this," Ishak said. "It's dangerous for you." He meant Angel, Buffy realized.

"Patrolling is always dangerous," Angel said. He was leaning forward now, gesturing as he spoke. For the first time since her return, Buffy realized she was seeing Angel behaving naturally; that mask of hard, severe control had slipped away. "It's always a risk. I've obeyed your restrictions for all this time for your comfort, not mine. If we're asking Buffy to take her chances out there, then we should help her any way we can."

"I think it's an excellent idea," Markwith said.

Buffy's raised an eyebrow. She could see Angel tensing up again, leaning back in his chair.

"Angel's priorities are clear," Markwith said. "He wants to help Buffy. And that's understandable, isn't it? Why not give it a try?"

Buffy tried desperately to think of why not. Anything Markwith approved of seemed somewhat suspect.

But with her back still throbbing with pain on every heartbeat, and the memory of the smell of her own blood fresh, Buffy could not bear to let the chance go. "Is it settled, then? Can we go?"

Ishak still looked unhappy, but he nodded. "Angel will accompany Buffy on her patrols. But there is one other thing -- no, not about you, Buffy -- I understand there were vampire trials today."

Markwith's smile suddenly seemed a little forced. "Yes, there were. All the authorizations were carried out."

"And those authorizations do not specifically require you to get my approval," Ishak said. "I'm warning you now, that is likely to change. Very soon."

"Ishak, your personal distaste for the procedure doesn't change what it means to the people --"

"No, I don't suppose it does," Ishak said, rising from the table. "But I don't think it means as much to them as you believe. You know my feelings on this. You agreed to slowly phase them out of existence; that's the only reason I haven't stopped them entirely before now. Don't call them for anything so trivial again. Any other business?"

"The recent theft from my room has never been solved," Angel said. "I'd like my things back. Barring that, I'd like an explanation."

"We'll look into it," Ishak said tiredly, and Buffy got the impression this conversation had happened before.

Markwith rose from his seat, half-bowed, and quickly exited the room. Frances hesitated for a moment at Buffy's side. "We will have to discuss this."

"Whatever," Buffy said tiredly. Frances shook her head and hurried after Markwith. The other Watchers filed out behind Ishak. murmuring among themselves.

Angel remained in his seat and looked at her for a long moment. She expected him to say something about the patrols -- "thanks" or "what were you thinking?" or something. But he finally said, "It shook you."

"What? The Watchers? No way --"

"I mean earlier. The attack. You're still afraid."

Buffy wanted to lie, then remembered that Angel could literally smell fear. She took a deep breath and nodded. "The demon clawed me. Frances thought it might be poisonous, and when I thought I might die again --"

The last words caught in her throat. As she sat there silently, Angel said, "Will you be all right?"

"Yeah," she said. "Just -- walk me home, okay?"

"Of course," he said, gesturing to the door.

She got tiredly to her feet. "This coming back from the dead is no picnic."

"Tell me about it," Angel said. Buffy couldn't help laughing a little as they left the Hall.

After they had walked through the Keep for a while, Angel said, "Thank you for asking for my help with patrols. It means a lot."

"Bet you've missed it," Buffy said. "Kicking ass, taking names. Trust me, it's like riding a bike. You never forget."

"I never learned how to ride a bike," Angel said. "But I know what you mean. That's not what I was talking about, though. I meant -- thank you for trusting me. Wanting me by your side for this. It's -- been a while."

Buffy looked up at him. His expression was relaxed again, more gentle and natural than she'd seen it in a long time. "I always trust you," she said. "You know that. I know things got kinda weird with us sometimes, but -- I trust you. Don't you remember?"

"I do now," he said. "I'd almost forgotten how it feels."

His eyes were soft, and his body was close, and Buffy felt a very different sort of adrenalin rush. Disconcerted and surprised, she cast around for another topic. "Okay, how can you forget Willow and remember Dilbert?"

Angel shrugged. "There's not much rhyme or reason to memory, Buffy. A couple months back, I tried to remember what I was doing in the late 22nd century. Came up completely blank. There's a period of about thirty years that's just empty. But I can still remember every word of a lecture my father gave me once when I didn't rub down one of his horses after a long ride."

Buffy remembered her 20th-century history final, the one where she'd spent fifteen minutes trying to remember exactly what the Bolsheviks wanted, anyway. The whole time she'd been racking her brains, she could picture the relevant page of her textbook right in front of her, complete with the little flying pig Willow had doodled in the margins. The pig had blue-ink wings. The Bolsheviks were a mystery. "Okay," she said, "Point taken."

"Is this your room?" Angel said.

"Uh, yeah. I think so." Buffy squinted at the door, which looked like every other door in the whole compound. "How could you tell?"

"Smells like you," Angel said.

"In future, feel free to make up another answer," Buffy said. Angel smiled and opened his mouth, no doubt to bid her farewell. Buffy quickly added, "Angel? That attack tonight? I -- I think it was probably a good thing."

"Why is that?"

"When I first got here -- I mean, here as in now -- you know what I mean. Anyway, I was so depressed and scared. I told myself I just wanted to die again. I really did want to die."

"Buffy --"

"But tonight, when I actually thought I might die, it freaked me out. I knew I wanted to be alive again." Buffy looked up at him. "I knew I wanted to be here, no matter how weird or scary or strange it might be. I don't think I could've found that out any other way. Though I wouldn't have minded trying."

"I'm glad," Angel said.

"That's I'm better? Or that I'm here?"

"Both."

**

"And that was it? No good-night kiss? No hug?" Xiaoting's arms were crossed in front of her, and she looked as indignant as if she had been the one left unkissed at her door.

"It's not like that," Buffy said. "Didn't these stories you heard include the information that Angel and I broke up, like, two years before I died? We weren't a couple then, and we're not going to be again." She was forcing down the muesli-like cereal that apparently would have to serve for most breakfasts. Xiaoting had joined her for a picnic on the floor.

The bolts of red and blue fabric were stretched out over her sofa; Agatha, who had insisted on eating at the table, was studying them. "I've never attempted to sew without a pattern," Agatha said doubtfully.

"You'll think of something," Xiaoting said with an airy wave of her hand. "And don't give me that, Buffy. You and Angel are quite obviously drawn to each other. Imagine him still wanting you after so long!"

"I'm not sure he does," Buffy said. "And I'm not sure if I do. Even if we were -- we kinda have a curse problem."

"Ohhh, yes," Xiaoting said. "I'd heard about that. I thought that part of the story just had to be made up. But it's real?"

"Unfortunately," Buffy said.

"I thought Angel's curse was his soul," Agatha said. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"There's more to it," Xiaoting said. "And we'll tell you if you want, but I'm warning you now, it's about all those subjects you keep begging me not to mention."

Agatha's pale skin flushed. "You mean -- matrimonial relations?"

"Without the matrimony," Xiaoting said.

"Then perhaps you two should simply tell me what sort of clothes you want," Agatha said hurriedly.

"Anything that doesn't make me look like the Shmoo," Buffy suggested.

The door chimed, and Buffy called, "Come in!" She was hoping it would be Angel -- then looked with some panic at her wide-open window --

Instead, Noor stalked in the room. Her eyes were blazing. "You have ruined this for both of us!"

Buffy held up her hands, the spoon in one of them dripping milk on her arm. "Whoa, whoa. Chill out. I got busted. We knew it could happen --"

"It did not happen to me," Noor insisted. "It happened to you. Because you let your Watcher catch you, now we have to patrol on leashes. Like little dogs."

"Is Angel going to have you on a leash, Buffy?" Xiaoting laughed. "That's a bit kinky --"

"Oh, so you are patrolling with your boyfriend now," Noor said. She was glowering at Buffy with real fury -- something entirely different, and far scarier, than her usual bluster. "Is this why you let yourself be caught? So that you could have your lover for a chaperone?"

"I did not let myself be caught," Buffy said, feeling her own anger begin. "They were looking for both of us, and they just happened to find me."

"Very likely. Meanwhile, you are with your Angel every night now, and I must patrol with my nagging, weakling Watcher. He does not let me use my hands or my feet. He makes me fight in the ways I cannot fight." Noor was pacing now, her anger shifting from Buffy to her Watcher. "Why do they do this? It is stupid. It is worse than stupid."

"Noor, do try to be reasonable," Agatha said. "The new rules are only for our protection --"

"We are not to be protected," Noor said. "We are to fight. Am I the only one who sees this?"

Without waiting for an answer, Noor stormed out of the room. Buffy dropped her spoon back in her bowl. "Okay, that was in the dictionary next to Overreacting."

Xiaoting sighed and ran her hand beneath the blue material. "That girl has got to learn to relax."

"Her Watcher is rather a bore," Agatha said. "Certainly he's not so dashing as your new patrolling partner, Buffy."

"Can you guys stop with the boyfriend talk already?" Buffy tried to relax. "Sorry. I'm kinda edgy. But maybe Noor isn't just feral.I guess if I had to patrol with Frances from now on, I'd be all kinds of hacked off today."

"Exactly," Agatha said. "I think. If I understood what you said."

"Speaking of Slayers barging in," Buffy said, "where's Sumiko?"

"Oh, Markwith came for her first thing this morning," Agatha said. "I saw them going to the training area while I was taking my morning constitutional."

"Sumiko and Markwith?" Buffy said.

"He's spending a little extra time with her," Xiaoting said. "Helping her adjust, as much as she can, poor thing."

"It's kind of him," Agatha added.

Buffy frowned. But she said only, "Very kind."

*

continue