Her smile didn't slip; however, the laughter in her eyes died. Buffy had once watched a man die from a stake-wound. Blood on Faith's hands and blood on hers. The Deputy Mayor had died so fast. All there had been left to do was run. Run and let the horror creep in.

In the breathless moments after she'd recognized Albert for who he was, that horror had lingered. Artificial and imagined, fuelled by her pessimistic imagination and the twitch in her arm muscles. It had been a twitch that had almost led to her finishing the killing lunge. But then she'd looked into his eyes and her heart had leapt in knee-jerk joy. Not just to see him but because if he was here...

Don't be so ungrateful, Summers. One familiar face is more than you could have ever hoped for.

"I suppose it's a lot like riding a bicycle." Ah! Now -- there was a thought. A nice alternative to a dim theatre. "Have you ever? Ridden one? A bicycle? Back in..."

She trailed off, unwilling to say the name. Luceti.