Xaviers!

"Suppose it's not really stalking if you're getting me to come to you," she smirks faintly.

"Some kind of reverse-high-level-4d-chess stalking, then," she nodded.

"Seems I've been using you more as my confessional than the other way around, though."

"That's just showing respect to your elders, is what that is."

"Doesn't mean you got what you wanted, though."

"But if unsolicited advice works, be careful or you'll sound like the old man I beat up to get you back."

Will winced a little at that. "Yeah, definitely want to keep that lighthearted and not 'I know best'.

And we don't always get what we want, as said by the great philosopher Jagger."

"I'll take that as a 'no, I'll wait to talk to Madame Spookypants.'"

Will paused for a moment and stoked the fire.

"Would you be OK if we tried now?"

"...not like I'm ready to go to sleep again just yet, I suppose."

"Alright, if you're sure..." Will said, looking at her strangely.

"Just...close your eyes, and focus on the fire. Breath in the smoke."

Sam quirks a brow at the odd looks Will is giving her, but settles in by the fire, doing as Will asks, slowly breathing in and out.

Will put the other steak on the fire, listening to it crack and crinkle.

"Alright, just...I don't know. Sort of feel the room around you. Smell the offering, wafting up, listen to the crackle of the fire. Be here.


We sit in the darkness, and we call for the three-who-are-one."

Sam's bearing tightens a bit, her body language tense, ready to move.

"...this is all you could hunt?"

"Concerned with the quality, or the quantity?" Will asked, carefully watching Sam.

"Not much daring involved going to the supermarket..."

"You'd prefer hind? Going out in the fields and chasing down a wild herd? Do that nowadays, and you'd be most likely to find a wild herd of tourists, or businessmen."

"What no one ever gets is that it was never quantity or the spilling of blood. It was effort."

"Granted.

Then again, not just anyone would set up this lovely fire, or get dressed up. Or put part of themselves into the flame," she said, holding her cut hand palm-up.

"It's good stagecraft, I'll grant."

"I'm an actor at heart, though if you want a hunt, I'm sure I could arrange something.

We haven't been formally introduced, here."

"But you know me, and I know what you are. I know enough to deny that daft old fool what he wanted with you."

"I know a you. The you who gave my life purpose and meaning.

I appreciate that something about that carries over here. I suppose I'm marked, compact or no compact. Or am I just that good of a friend?"

"You are what you are," she says, notably not answering the question.

"You can be changeable but still immutable."

"I like that. I should get that printed up on business cards.

It's...good to see you."

"We come through, in certain moments. She's closer than ever to understanding."

Will nodded. "I've seen it. I've felt it. It's...weird, seeing her...seeing you, without each other. Just...not at all what I'm used to. Like everything is slightly out of focus.

If there's anything I can do to help, you know...you should know that I am willing to do it."

"She needs to accept it on her own, or else we would be... less."

"Sam is just another way our pieces fit together."

Will smiled. "Of course. You'll excuse me for being impatient; I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Is that why you called us? You wish that she was... more?"

"...No. I mean, yes, but that's not why I went through this effort."

She shifted a bit uncomfortably on the ground.

"I killed yesterday. I had the opportunity to pacify an invader, but instead, I held her life in my hands and I snuffed it out.

I've done it before, and I'm sure I'll do it again, but the day that that stops...stops bothering me is the day someone needs to take me down.

Back home, I've talked this over with my Sam. With my Morrigan. It's part of the compact. When it's just, and when it's necessary, and when it's in on the right side of battle, I can live with it. Here though...I'm working without guidance, and it's just..." she trailed off.

"You don't trust yourself? Maybe after this much time you're not as sure as you used to be?"

"I'm a stranger in a strange land. My constants have gone away. You, Sara, Robin...the places I turn to for support and backup are gone. I...

I'm not sure in myself. Who am I, here? What is my place in things? Where do I go and who do I turn to when I'm down? To have everything sucked away from you is..." she trailed off.

"So, no. I suppose I don't trust in me."

"And you're asking for... direction, aye?"

Sam cocks her head, focusing on Will. It's almost as if she's scrutinizing him, though the fact that her eyes are still closed might mean it loses something.

"I've always looked to my Gods for direction. Admittedly, it became easier when they moved in next door."

"You are... different from most. If the fish-eater had not found you, which is far more possible than he'd like to admit, it is possible I might never have had to take you to the other side."

"That's a frightening possibility."

"To know that you will never die of violence? Most find that comforting."

"Living forever; seeing friends and loved ones wither and age? Some may find that comforting; some find that a sentence."

"Consider who you're saying that to."

"Yeah, but I'm just a plain simple girl from New York. Clay of the Earth," Will smiled.