The Heroes of Ulster Rise

by Lord umbrex

Bound by Oberon's curse, the Banshee seeks out the one person she hopes can help her, but that person is the one she betrayed the most. Will he help her? Or will he allow himself to be ruled by his anger?

1. Call of the Banshee

Gargoyles: The Ulster Heroes Rise

Disclaimer: I don't own it, but Disney and Greg Weisman do.

Summary: Bound by Oberon's curse, the Banshee seeks out the one person she hopes can help her, but that person is the one she betrayed the most. Will he help her? Or will he allow himself to be ruled by his anger?

A/N: This is just a long one-shot consisting of two chapters telling how I think Molly and Rory came back together and how they started on their adventures together.

Part 1: The Call of the Banshee

A year after learning of his past as Cu Chulainn, Rory Dugan walked down a dirt path at sundown one day during the springtime. He had his wooden walking stick in his hand and a backpack slung over his shoulder as he made his way towards his destination, which was his father's house that was a day's walk away. His pace was not slow, but he was not in a rush either, instead he seemed to be enjoying the warm day. As he walked, there was a sudden flash of light, and a being appeared in front of him, one that he recognized almost immediately. The being had long blue hair and purple skin, and wore a tattered green dress, but her appearance, for she was a female, was very familiar to Rory's brown eyes.

"You!" Rory yelled out with wide eyes, dropping his bag and gripping his walking stick tightly in preparation of a battle. He did not want to be caught off guard, knowing that such a mistake would leave him injured, if not outright dead. "I thought I took care of you at Cairn na Chulainn, but I see my old enemy returns once more."

"Don't be alarmed," Banshee's voice said in Rory's mind, her mouth unable to be opened due to the metal binding that Oberon had placed upon her as punishment for her refusal to partake in the Gathering. "I'm not here to fight."

Rory stared at the Banshee with a disbelieving expression on his face, keeping his guard up in case it was a trap, but willing to listen to her nonetheless. "What are you here for then?" Rory questioned skeptically, not knowing what it was that she wanted from him if not a fight.

Banshee pointed to her mouth, where the metal plate appeared as she dropped the glamour that she had placed upon it, allowing Rory to see her dilemma. "I come to ask for your help in removing this. I cannot do it alone." She said in his mind once again, using her magic to communicate with him silently.

"You want me to help you? You, Banshee?" Rory laughed mirthlessly, finding little humor in the absurd request. "You, the person who betrayed me and tried to kill me?" Rory scowled in a mocking tone, holding his walking stick tightly in his right hand, not believing that he wouldn't need it.

Without another word, he picked up his bag from the ground, turned his back on the Child of Oberon and started to walk away, not giving the request another thought. He passed her by, sidestepping her presence, and continuing on his way, but stopped once more upon hearing a new voice in his head: it was of Molly, the girl he spent so much time, the girl he loved so immensely before he found out she was only out to get him. "Please, help me," Banshee's voice pleaded in his mind again, unintentionally conjuring up visions of Molly for Rory. Her tone was begging and painful, as if her lack of magic was killing her slowly, painfully; truthfully, though Rory did not know it, the metal in her mouth was agony as her magic was being stunted, and with that, her life was being drained.

"Why should I?" Rory questioned earnestly, wanting to know why she thought he would be willing to help her after all she had done to him. "You betrayed me, you tried to kill me, and most damaging still, you tried to take away my destiny, knowing full well I did not have much going for me at the time. You hoodwinked me into believing we had something, all for your own selfish desires."

"Please," Banshee pleaded in his mind once more, hoping that his internal goodness, for he was one of the best men that humanity had to offer in either his Rory or Cu Chulainn form, would overpower the anger he felt towards her. She knew it was a risk, knew that he probably wouldn't help her, but with the pain she was feeling from the binding, she was willing to risk confronting him in order to receive the favor that she needed.

Shaking his head, Rory started to walk away again, hoping to get away from the nightmare in front of him, but stopped not a moment later and took a deep breath. He had spent so much time with Molly, had experienced so much with her that he couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse in his heart. He had loved her, and her deception had broken his heart in more ways than he would admit. However, upon hearing her voice after so long an absence made something inside of him stir, and without a word, he gripped his walking stick more tightly and turned back to face the Banshee.

In a flash of golden energy, the walking stick turned into a spear made completely of light, and he was Cu Chulainn, the ancient Irish hero once more. Then, whipping his arm around, he stabbed the metal plate that was blocking Banshee's mouth, using his great strength to break through it's defenses, and it disintegrated with a little effort, being destroyed in a flurry of particles as it disappeared into the aether. Freed from the burden that Oberon had placed upon her, Banshee fell to her knees, tears coming out of her glowing white eyes as her magic slowly returned to her in full-she wasn't what she once was, but in time, she would get it back. However, the fact that she could finally use her voice, her precious voice that supplied so many of her wonderful abilities, was enough that she was willing to live without the return of all of her magic for the time being.

"There," Cu Chulainn said, turning back into Rory, preferring to be his normal self unless he was in battle. "Don't bother me again." He ordered as he began to walk away, but Banshee teleported in front of him, blocking his path; she transformed into Molly in an instant, dropping her normal appearance and taking the form of a human. "That won't work, I can see through your tricks now."

"Where are you going?" She questioned interestedly, her voice timid, almost sad, though Rory did not understand why. She seemed strange, Rory noticed, as if she wasn't the cruel, merciless being that she was months prior, a little over a year ago when she had attacked him; her attack back then had been cold, quick, and brutal, a far cry from what she was displaying at the present time.

"To protect Ireland: to protect the world from people and beings like you," replied Rory with a scowl, making a move to pass her, hoping to return to his travel. "But before I can do that, I have things to do. So, if you don't mind…"

"I'm…I'm sorry, okay?" Molly whispered before Rory was out of earshot, her eyes staring at the ground as the humanity that she possessed in the form of Molly overtook her. She looked up at Rory for a second, before bursting into tears: real and salty tears, human emotions flowing out. She had taken human form, blood and flesh and all, rather than just illusion herself into Molly, so her tears weren't crocodile ones, but instead they were true and real. "Without my magic, I couldn't help but think about my life, my past, Cu Chulainn, you, everything. And now I know; I know in my heart that I don't want to fight you anymore, that I don't want to be your enemy."

"So we won't then," shrugged Rory, looking into the distance, not daring to meet her gaze. A flicker of love appeared in his eyes, his heart breaking with every word he said in the conversation up until that point. Oh how he wished he could reach out and take her in his arms, desiring nothing more than to be with her, to laugh and be happy once again, but the festering bitterness that he felt at her betrayal was too strong to ignore. While he was a powerful hero, one that could and would face down death without blinking, he was still human with the entire spectrum of human emotions, the negative ones like anger and disappointment being no exception. "You go your way, I go mine, and as long as you're good, we'll never see each other again."

"I don't want that either, though," muttered Molly, kicking dirt with her left foot and wiping her eyes with her hands. Even though her Molly form had a hard looking appearance, for she had spiked magenta hair and wore tight blue jeans with a red belt, blue boots, a tight-fitting red shirt, and a black leather jacket, the human side of her was a real softy when she allowed it to be.

"Then what do you want?" Rory questioned quietly, wondering what Molly was trying to say. He didn't want to read into her words in an effort to prevent himself from being hurt, so he wanted her to expressly state what it was that she was after.

"I want to go with you," Molly answered simply, inwardly knowing that she owed Rory a great debt, both for his own actions in freeing her from her burden and for the actions that she had herself had taken against him. "I've since found that you're my only friend; those of my kind, the Children of Oberon, don't care about me. You're the only person I have, Rory."

"That's why you tried to kill me, right?" Rory sneered, his eyes burning in anger at her declaration. "That's why you tried to prevent me from finding my destiny, from becoming the man I was always born to become?"

"It was Cu Chulainn I was after, not you, Rory," Molly replied, hoping that he would understand the difference in her mind. To her, Rory was simply a human being, while Cu Chulainn was her enemy, not the man who was Cu Chulainn's reincarnation—it was a subtle difference, but a difference to her nonetheless.

"I AM CU CHULAINN!" Rory roared, not allowing her to get off on a simple technicality. The Banshee knew that Rory would become Cu Chulainn all along, meaning that she betrayed and attacked him just the same, regardless if he hadn't been in the form of Cu Chulainn while she did it.

"I said I was sorry, all right!" Molly replied angrily, though she did not appear to dislike what Rory was saying. "Look, I don't expect you to believe me, but I am willing to show you that I've changed. I'm willing to try. But if you don't want to give me the opportunity..." She allowed the tail end of what she had said to linger in the air, not really knowing how to finish it.

Rory bit his lip with his eyes closed, going over everything that she had said. Was she really willing to try? And if she was, did he have a right not to help her down the new path that she had chosen for herself? Could he handle having her around without distracting him from his goals and his reason for being? Finding his answers to those questions after a moment of thought, he took a step forward, walking in the direction he had been going before the Banshee had first appeared. "Are you coming?" He called out to Molly, who smiled and rushed towards him. He had no idea how it would work, if it would work at all, but if she wanted to try and be good, he knew that he had to help her. He would not trust her completely, but it was up to him to prevent another evil from punishing the innocent people of the world, a duty that he took to heart.

"Where are we going?" She asked in a curious tone, wondering what he had to do before he could protect Ireland from evil. In her mind, he had all that he needed, what with his gae bolga weapon and his unbelievable battle frenzy that gave him great strength and ability, each of which made him well prepared for any battle that he may face, regardless of the enemy.

"Well," Rory shrugged, giving a wry grin her way as his plan jumped to the forefront of his mind. "I figured since I've been reincarnated, my hound aught to have been, too, right? So, we're going to find him, even if it takes us a thousand years."

"A thousand years is nothing to an immortal," Molly replied confidently, having lived for an eon already, the prospect of living another thousand years was not too extraordinary to her. However, she knew that Rory himself was not immortal and that he would die just as the rest of humanity, albeit perhaps not as easily, which made an idea jump into her mind, a kernel of a plan that she would think through over their journey, one that would hopefully fulfill any debt that she had to him.

"I know," Rory whispered back with the same small, devilish smile on his face. A flash of blueish light emanated from Molly, and Rory cocked an eyebrow as he flicked his eyes over to her, curious as to what she had done.

"I'm in the illusion of a human now…just in case." She answered his questioning gaze, as her eyes moved about, as if searching for an enemy. "If I actually take a human form, I am human through and through, barring the ability to transform back into my natural state."

"In case of what?" He questioned, confused as to why she would take such actions. To him, it was an action that seemed to be in anticipation of something specific, rather than a healthy alertness to danger, which made him think that she had an ulterior motive by traveling with him, though he couldn't figure out what just yet.

"In case something attacks us, I want to be able to help you fight," said Molly, not wanting to find herself caught off guard in case Oberon or his any of his vassals came to retrieve her. She had been injured and in hiding when she had been tracked down by the Weird Sisters in order to be dragged back to Avalon for the Gathering, with the sisters combining their powers to manage to overpower her. If she had not been injured, and if she had been prepared, she knew she would been much more capable of fighting them off, even if they were fairly powerful in their own right, which is why she decided to take such cautious actions this time around.

"I'm powerful enough to defend us both, Molly," Rory replied, though he inwardly continued to wonder what it was that she expected to attack them. Was someone or something after her? Was that why she needed his help? Was this all just a insidious plot to have him help her defeat the enemies that were circling her? Shaking his head, he continued on with her at his side, hoping that she really was willing to change her ways and this wasn't one of her schemes.

They trekked for another hour or so, following a dirt path through a grove of woods, until the sun completely set, making their journey all the more difficult. With a sigh, Rory silently collected some pieces of wood that were on the ground and set them in a circle. He took a seat on a large rock that was nearby, and reached into his bag and took out a lighter and a piece of paper. Lighting the piece of paper in flames, he tossed the paper into the pile of wood, watching as it sparked and alighted, giving them heat and light for the chilly night.

"What are we doing?" Molly asked confusedly, not understanding why Rory had stopped. While she knew that humans had a fear of the dark, she did not know why Rory would have that affliction, as there were very few monsters in the world that he could not match in the form of Cu Chulainn.

"Setting up camp for the night," Rory replied, as he took out a small tea kettle from his bag, and then opened his canteen and poured some water into it. Molly took a seat on a tree stump that was a few feet away from the rock, though still close to the fire as she watched Rory do whatever it was he had planned.

"I could just bring us to wherever you wanted to go, you know," Molly suggested, not wanting to sit around and do nothing for the night when they could use their time more efficiently. As a being that could be anywhere and everywhere in the blink of an eye, she did not understand humanity's patience while traveling, how anyone found enjoyment in the journey, rather than the ultimate destination was far beyond her understanding.

"You shouldn't be using your powers like that, walking is fine. We'll get there when we get there," Rory answered patiently, placing the tea kettle down next to the flames in an attempt to heat it up. They went silent after that, each lost in thought as the darkness of the night started to envelope them. "I've been living like this for a while now; trust me, it gets enjoyable." He added as he started to relax, knowing that it would be a while until the water in the tea kettle was hot.

"What have you been doing?" She asked, curious as to how he had spent the last year without her around. During her time as Molly, the pair had spent every day together, so she wondered how he filled the void that her disappearance had created.

"Traveling around the isle, earning money, fighting evil, searching for what I need in order to fully embrace my destiny," Rory answered with a shrug, having tried to occupy as much of his time as he could over the past few months. Rarely did he spend a moment to himself, instead focusing on pursuing his destiny as a hero, a life that was not easy but extremely rewarding. "It's been a busy year."

"What is it that you need?" Molly inquired, wanting to know exactly what Rory was alluding to with what he was saying. There was something in the way he was speaking, a glimmer of something underneath that made her question what it was he was actually after and whether he knew what it was for himself.

Rory stayed silent, instead grabbing a small twig that was off to the side and coming back to the rock on which he had previously been sitting. "What am I?" Rory questioned as he tended the fire, poking at it with the wooden stick, before he tossed the stick itself into the flames, satisfied with the size of the flames.

"Your memory hasn't been restored yet?" Molly asked, surprised by that revelation. It had been a while since Cu Chulainn first reappeared, long enough in her opinion for Rory to come to an understanding of his new situation.

"Bits...pieces, not the whole story, just flashes of what once was," Rory replied, shaking his head slightly as his gaze moved over to the woman. "Mostly when visiting places that I went to during my previous life."

"You're Cu Chulainn, the hero of Eire, the hound of Ulster," Molly whispered, staring down into the fire in front of her, as the heat warmed her face. Instinctively, memories of her former battles with the great warrior formed in her mind, images of her numerous defeats at his hand taking shape. "You are…"

"No," Rory interrupted, stopping her from continuing. He knew all that, having researched the stories about his past life after learning about it, but what he didn't know is where he came from and why he had been reincarnated in the first place. "I know who I am; I meant literally, what am I?"

"Oh," Molly nodded in understanding, realizing that he actually meant 'what'. "We call you the protectors, the guardians, for we don't know what you are actually named. Humans in the past called you epic heroes or demi-gods, we simply call you the middle-way; neither halflings nor human, you simply are warrior humans."

Rory cocked an eyebrow at something that Molly said, confused by her terminology. "Middle-way?" He asked, puzzled as to what she meant, having never heard it before other than in the teachings of Buddha.

"Something greater than humanity, but less than a hybrid," Molly answered, having no other term for what Rory was besides that. "You and your brethren were born in an effort to protect humanity from the Children of Oberon, from gargoyles if the situation calls, and yes, even from humanity itself. You're human yes, that is for certain, but you're...different. Stronger, faster, more stout and filled with greater vigor than the rest of humanity, more evolved than your brethren, you are a match for even the most powerful of my kind. You're the sentinels of humanity, granted great powers beyond normal scope. And through reincarnation, you learn from each of your past lives, gaining more cunning all the while, becoming better and wiser as you go."

"There are others like me?" Rory asked, quite surprised but happy with that revelation, having assumed that he was one of a kind with his nigh-magical powers. "So I'm not alone? I'm not the only one like this?

"No, there have been others before and after you, so there are some," Molly nodded, looking up at him for the first time since the conversation began. "Humans called them Beowulf, Enkidu, Gilgamesh, Sigurd, names I'm sure of which you are aware. You know the warrior known as Achilles? He was the same sort as you. The beings known as Kintaro, Rostam, Hercules, and the huntress Atalanta? All likewise are the same as you. You all have been scattered about history; you are rare, but known nonetheless."

Rory nodded silently, of course recognizing most of the names that Molly had rattled off. He thought about what she said, processing everything, before a question popped into his mind. "So someone created us?"

"No idea," Molly shrugged, not being privy to that knowledge as it was well before her time. "The origins of people like you are shrouded in the most enigmatic of all mysteries. If I had to assume, however, I'd wager that magic itself created you in an effort to make sure that the Third Race would not rule over humanity like so many of us thirst to do, but that would just be a guess on my end."

Rory made a note that said thirst in the present tense, as if she still wished to do it, but did not bring it up, knowing that it would be a process for her to change her ways. "What of the gae bolga? And my shield and armor?" He asked, wondering where his armaments came from, presuming they weren't just a creation of destiny.

"They're all magical, but the spear was crafted by your teacher and in many ways your spiritual father, with Culann himself forging the shield and armor," Molly replied, thinking back two thousand years. There had been many people in the rise of Cu Chulainn, where each played a part, however large or small, in making the great warrior what he was.

Cu Chulainn looked at Molly, gesturing for her to continue, wanting to know more about the story. "Who was my teacher?" He finally asked after seeing that she would not expound on the matter on her own.

"An elf by the name of Lugh, who imbibed the spear with his own brand of magic, which is where its great powers come from," Molly answered, having known Lugh very well before his death in battle. "He was like me."

"And you're a member of the Third Race, part of the Aos Si, the elves of the sidhe, as well?" Rory asked, wanting to see if his memory of the cosmology of the world was truthful. He knew about gargoyles, humans, and the Third Race; he just couldn't put it all together through his memories quite yet.

"A member of the Tuatha De Danann and a Child of Oberon," Molly replied with a slight tilt of her head, agreeing with his statement. "Danu is my literal great-grandmother, whereas Oberon is simply the Lord to whom my race owes allegiance."

"Do you have any actual siblings?" Rory asked in an effort to get to know her a little more, as he only knew about her made up past as Molly, rather than her actual past. As Molly, she had informed him that she was an orphan after her parents had died, though now that he knew about her secret, he assumed that story was entirely false, made up to make her seem more human.

"I have cousins, but no siblings," Molly answered, shaking her head in the negative. "Danu had many children, each of whom became the legends and myths of Eire because Danu's home, the sidhe called Tir Na Nog, was located here. Tir Na Nog was a wellspring of natural magic, which is why Danu conquered the land and created her home there. My mother is Danu's granddaughter known as the leanan sidhe, while my father is the chief spriggan."

Rory tried to imagine what a leanan sidhe or a spriggan would look like, but he came up short, as he had no idea what Molly's true form actually was in order to help him with conjuring an image. "Show me your true form," Rory ordered, staring blankly at the girl in front of him, wanting her to drop any pretenses and show him how she truly appeared.

"No," Molly scathed, immediately shaking her head in the negative as an angered expression came upon her face. "That is deeply personal," She replied, liking it to someone asking another person to strip naked for them to see.

Rory continued to gaze at her as if he was unaffected by her pronouncement, not at all concerned with how personal his request was in her opinion. "Is it the Banshee? Or the Crom Cruach?" Rory questioned with a raised eyebrow, not relenting on the subject, knowing that it would be a sign of how serious she was to her commitment to be good.

Molly stared at him angrily, biting her bottom lip, clearly peeved by his request. She stayed silent as he continued to stare are her, apparently desiring to see her true form, no matter the cost. "Neither," Molly finally said as the silence became unbearable, before disappearing, where a ball of dull green light took its place. It was wispy, not entirely corporeal, as if a blanket had been put over a lamp, allowing you to see partial light, but not the full glare. Nonetheless, the ball of light was clearly of a green color, not unlike the color of dress that Banshee had in her usual elfin form. "We are not flesh, we are not blood, nor are we corporeal, so to speak of our true form is entirely inaccurate as we are whatever we want to be at the time." Molly said as she reappeared in her human form as the green ball disappeared. "But that, that is me at my core, without any form of transformation or glamour put over me. When I am hurt, that is the form to which I revert."

Rory stayed silent for a moment, looking at Molly before flicking his eyes over to the flames in front of him. "Do you eat?" Rory asked, as he picked up the tea kettle from off of the fire. He poured the noodles and broth into the cup that he had taken out of his bag, before looking over to Molly, asking her if she wanted any.

"Every living thing needs food," Molly replied knowingly, before continuing with, "My food is a bit different than yours, depending on my form, but as Molly I eat, yes."

Rory handed the cup of noodles and broth over to Molly, who accepted it with a small nod. He then took out another, smaller cup and poured his own meal into it, glad that he had enough for both of them. As he ate, he stared at the flames for a few moments, not really knowing what to say to express what he was feeling at that moment—it was all so confusing to him, having spent the past year disliking Molly only for her to slip back into his life in a moment. "Why did you show me that?" He finally settled on, wanting to find out why she was willing to show him after being so against it.

"I owe you for helping me," Molly answered simply, believing that she had no right to deny Rory's request due to what he had done for her not an hour prior. "While I do not consider us even just yet, I need not to go to as extreme lengths to repay you anymore."

"Understood," Rory nodded, as he took the tea kettle from the fire and poured some more of the soup into his cup. He passed it over to Molly, who also poured herself another cup, though she was not that hungry. "Like I said before, I don't remember my past yet," Rory started, stirring his soup in his cup, allowing it to cool down before he ate. "I can recall bits, pieces here and there, but nothing substantial."

"It's been two thousand years," Molly replied easily, believing that it was simply a matter of time until he could remember every detail of his previous life, though she knew not whether her belief would prove itself to be truthful or not. "It'll come."

"What happened back then? What happened to me?" Rory asked, hoping that Molly could jumpstart the process of his memories being restored in full.

Molly gave out a deep sigh, not wanting to think back to the terrible fight that the pair had on the pastoral fields of Ulster—she had barely escaped with her life. "There was a battle, and immediately after defeating me, you fought Nuada, Queen Mab's faithful warrior, and managed to kill him. He was a powerful vassal of Queen Mab, who instantly came and tried to gain revenge. After being informed of your taboos by the sisters, she slew you and turned your beast into stone. However, one of her warriors intervened before Mab could finish the deed and destroy the stone beast, and used his magic to fling the beast over the cliff into the Irish Sea, to never be seen again."

"Why would the warrior do that?" Rory questioned, not understanding why a member of the Mab's contingent would help his loyal ally out like he seemed to do. Sure, the beast may have died in the water, but at least he had a change to survive, whereas if Mab had her way, he would have died regardless.

"He was friends with the gargoyles," Molly shrugged, not really knowing why it happened, though she was able to wager a guess. "And he did not want to see one of them perish needlessly. He believed being locked in stone for all eternity was punishment enough."

"Who was this warrior?" Rory inquired, wanting to know who it was that had saved his beastly friend from certain death. Did he know him from myth? Or was it a relatively unknown member of the Third Race?

"Reynard the fox," Molly answered quietly, recalling how it had been Reynard, or Prometheus as he had been known to the Greeks, that had saved the gargoyle beast that day nearly two millennium prior. Reynard was extremely affectionate to the animals of the world, having taking the form of an anthropomorphic fox after losing the Titanomachy in order to create a new identity for himself.

"Never heard of him," Rory said, though he knew he wasn't well versed in the folklore or mythology of the world. Before Cu Chulainn returned to the world, he had thought all myths and legends were made up, stories to tell to pass the time, not epics that were based on real life facts like he had come to learn.

"As well you shouldn't, he was basically Mab's court jester, he never stepped foot in Ireland before then," Molly replied with a hint of laughter in her voice, knowing that Reynard had been a clown up until he turned against Mab and joined with her son. "He was nearly killed for his treachery, but a series of events led to him regaining his name when Oberon rebelled and dethroned his mother. He is one of the most intelligent of us all."

They both went silent for a few moments, Molly not really wanting to talk, and Rory going over everything that he had just heard. "Do you have a real name?" Rory finally asked, intrigued by the prospect of learning more about the woman in front of him. Did she have a life outside of being the Banshee or was being the Banshee all she knew?

"Molly is fine," Molly replied, not wanting to divulge the name that many in her clan called her, at least those closest to her and knew her name: Cliodhna. "I've grown accustomed to it while in this form."

Rory nodded solemnly, before getting off the stone and lying on the ground, getting comfortable in an effort to get some sleep. "Put out the fire when you go to sleep, goodnight," He said, rolling over and using his green sweatshirt as a blanket as he tried to rest for the long journey ahead of them.

"Aye," Molly whispered, as she continued to stare down into the fire, losing herself in the flames. She did not know how long she sat there thinking about her life, but the moon was high in the sky when she finally went to bed, her mind dreaming about the man across from her, though she dared not admit it.