"It's a trap, you know."

I restrained a powerful urge to make a joke that had already been beaten to death by the time my wife and I were in high school, and which had just started to make the rounds again when SAO launched. Old Internet memes never seemed to die, but they eventually stopped being funny. Usually. "Which do you mean?" I asked quietly, leaning over the pub table so that I didn't have to raise my voice to be heard. "The actual trap, or Viyami's warning about it?"

"Yes," Camilla replied helpfully, not looking up from her inventory as she sipped at a mug of black coffee.

I rolled my eyes a little and stirred my soup with my chopsticks, chasing the last elusive bit of meat. I found myself briefly distracted by the sound; after four months in this game the realism of the little details sometimes still caught my attention. They made the occasional reminders of our virtual environment that much more of a stark contrast. "I'm just not seeing it. What would they gain by sending her here to give us a fake warning?"

"I don't know," Camilla said after swiping a window closed with a wave of her hand, finally raising her eyes to mine. "But we'd be idiots to take what she said at face value."

Meaning I was being an idiot. I tried not to take offense; we still hadn't resolved the earlier argument and it seemed to still be bothering her despite a couple hours of rest under her belt. "Okay," I said. "Let's assume she's lying through her teeth. Where's the trap?"

We kept our voices low to avoid spreading our conversation outside of our table; not everyone in the pub was known to us, and the lack of the Black Cats' presence meant things were relatively quiet. But despite the lengthy silence from my wife, I knew she had to have heard me. I was just about to add a new thought when she finally spoke up.

"I think they're trying to scare us off. Make us afraid to leave the Safe Zone." The corner of her mouth quirked once. "They don't know me as well as they think."

I chewed on that for a moment, and then shook my head. "I'm still not seeing it. If they sent her, they've tipped their hand for nothing. It doesn't lure us into doing anything we weren't already going to do, and it gives us a warning that we didn't have before. If they wanted to set a trap for us, wouldn't it have been more effective just to wait until we left town and hit us unawares?"

"I do not credit these people with an excess of strategic genius," Camilla remarked as she finished her coffee and set the mug down with a sharp rap of ceramic against wood. "People are irrational and they make mistakes, Kadyn; their actions don't necessarily have to be logically sound. "

I shrugged doubtfully, not wanting to argue. "Okay, fine. It's a trap. Now what?"

"Isn't it obvious? We set one of our own."

I tried—and failed—to keep from rolling my eyes again. I saw the irritation flash across her face, and raised a hand to forestall the sharp retort that was sure to follow. "Or," I suggested, "maybe we could try sticking to the plan we worked out with the Army."

"That you worked out. I don't recall having much input into it."

That hit a bit too close to the mark. But it wasn't the whole truth, and I was starting to get annoyed with her attitude. "You were sitting right beside me, Camilla. You had exactly as much input as you chose to offer. I'm sorry that I brought up that idea without running it past you—but to be fair, you didn't exactly go out of your way to get my opinion before you decided to put both of our lives on the line by turning us into vigilantes. When do I get to not be okay with that?"

And after rolling that grenade out onto the table, I waited for the expected explosion as my wife's cheeks reddened and her expression clouded. It left me completely unprepared for what she said a few seconds later as she damped down her temper with visible effort.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

I'd gamed this conversation out about five steps ahead—I had to do that; it was the only way I could handle an argument like this in realtime. I had responses I'd thought up for pretty much every objection I expected from her, and even a few lines that I'd hoped would neutralize her temper if it flared up.

What I hadn't expected was contrition. It left me sitting there, looking at her stupidly with my mouth slightly open. "I… okay?"

Camilla combed through her hair with her fingers, pulling it back to get it out of her face as she met my eyes. "I just... dealing with these people again kind of brought everything back that we'd tried so hard to put behind us. I got scared and angry, and I wanted to hit back at them. I still do—honestly, I don't think they're ever going to leave us alone unless someone takes them out or we hit them hard enough to make them back off. We can't run away from this." It was much the same thing she'd said before, but this time it felt different—in tone, in context; it was less like an aggressive call to arms and more like an appeal to a partner for help in solving a serious problem.

I could deal with that.

"All the more reason for us to get as many allies as we can," I said. "Someone from the Army will be here in the morning. Recruiting from the town and organizing a local militia to patrol the major roads and paths will go a long way towards making this floor safer." There was more I wanted to say, but I cut myself off there—I didn't want to jeopardize this progress by making her feel like I was rubbing her face in it.

Camilla nodded, looking down at the table with a look of—not resignation, which had been my first thought, but something else. Weariness, perhaps. "It's just frustrating, Kadyn," she said finally, idly playing with the lacing on the sleeves of her dress while she spoke. "I don't like leaving our safety—or the lives of the people on this floor—in the hands of people we don't really know. I can't just sit here and hope the Army makes the problem go away—I need to be doing something about it."

"What's this about the Army?" Hinami said as she approached the table and offered us drink refills. "Don't mind me, I'm being nosy."

Yes, you are. I looked over at Camilla and shrugged. Everyone was going to know tomorrow anyway. As my wife exchanged her empty coffee cup for a fresh one, she explained. "Kady—we spoke with the leader of the Army while we were in the Starting City. They're going to assign a group to patrol the major traffic areas on this floor and start organizing a militia from the local residents.

"That's… good, I hope?" Hinami replied, looking between us as if unsure of what to think about this development.

"It should be," I answered, not missing Camilla's quick self-correction. "If they can get regular patrols going not just with their guild but with volunteers from the players who live here, it could make this floor too much trouble for the bandits to feel it's worth sticking around. And the patrols might just be able to round some of them up while they're at it."

As I said this, I caught Camilla suddenly getting the light of revelation in her eyes. She slapped a hand on the table, making her coffee slosh and startling both me and the waitress. "I've got it. Hinami, I'm sorry, could you give us a few more minutes to talk?"

"Sure thing, hon," she said, immediately sweeping up the empty mugs and finding somewhere else to be.

"What's on your mind?" I asked cautiously once we were alone again—at least, as alone as we could get with more people starting to fill up the pub. I could tell it was going to be a busy night; players who might've gone out in large groups hunting during the slower evening hours were being driven inside by the miserable weather.

Meanwhile, Camilla looked about as smug and excited as if she'd just discovered a cure for cancer. "I think I know how to make everyone happy here."

"I like the sound of this already," I said over my tea with arched eyebrows. "Figure that out, and you could bottle and sell it for a fortune."

"Funny. I mean I think I figured out a compromise to reconcile your Army plan with my need to be doing something."

"And?"

"Simple," she said, grinning as she brought her coffee up to her lips. "I join the Army."

Alarm bells went off in my head. "I changed my mind," I said at once. "I don't like this plan."

"I know, I know," my wife said, holding up a hand in supplication. "Hear me out?"

Arms folded and face wearing a mask of skepticism, I nodded warily. "All right."

"Thanks. Look, I'm not talking about joining their guild. But when they get here, they might be able to use an extra hand with training the militia they're going to try to raise. They also might need help filling out a patrol party. I won't ask you to go with me if you don't want to. I just need to be doing something to help instead of feeling helpless."

As I listened, I felt torn. I didn't like being separated from her while we were trapped in this world, but I couldn't really think of any valid reason to ask her not to go out. If anything the training idea at least sounded like it might be fun to watch.

And as I thought it through, I realized one other thing: this all went back to my wife's need to feel in control of her life. As long as we'd known each other, that had been a constant: she'd refused to accept financial help or lodging from my family when we first moved to Japan, and she'd never been comfortable when I was the only one working—in fact, that period where she was unemployed had been the source of more arguments than anything else in our marriage; she hated feeling dependent.

She had to do this. I understood.

I just wished I felt more comfortable with it.

I realized I'd gotten lost in thought when I was jarred back to awareness by a sudden burst of mirth from the front door of the pub: Ducker's loud laughter as he joked with one of the other Black Cats while they entered. My eyes refocused and I saw Camilla sitting across the table from me, watching me intently. For once she didn't make a remark about being off in the land of the Forest Elves; she simply waited in silence while I sorted out my thoughts about what she'd said.

I picked up my half-full cup of tea and sipped at it; it was cold. I stirred it pointlessly as I decided on the words I wanted to use.

"That's fair," I said finally, keeping things simple. I could see her relax the moment the words left my mouth, which gave me courage to go on—but no ideas for doing so. I searched for something else I could honestly say that wouldn't sound lame or contrived, but nothing came to mind.

"I know you're not happy about this, Seiji," she said a little more quietly, reaching across the table and brushing her fingers against mine. "But it's something I need to do."

"No, it's fine," I said quickly, turning over my hand and finding hers before it could slip away. What I said next wasn't entirely truthful, but it wasn't wrong either. "I had a problem with being dragged into what was starting to feel like a war of vengeance. I can't object to anything we can reasonably do to help here. Let's see who the Army sends and what they have to say."

I had a few moments to savor the look of gratitude on my wife's face before the moment was interrupted by a loud whistle. We both looked in the direction of the Black Cats' table quickly enough to see Ducker with his fingers held to his mouth as two of the others yanked him back down to his seat. Looking embarrassed and perhaps on the verge of PKing his guildmate, Keita gave us a wave and beckoned us over. Exchanging a look, Camilla and I grabbed our drinks and migrated over to their table; whatever they had in mind was bound to be better than rehashing our disagreements.

Ducker looked about ready to explode with excitement, and most of the other Black Cats weren't far behind him. Giving us a sheepish grin, Keita beckoned to a pair of empty chairs at the end of the table. "Hey there, you two. Sorry about that—I asked Ducker to get your attention, and he was on his feet before I could finish saying 'discreetly'."

"No worries," Camilla said cheerfully, her mood seeming to have been greatly improved by our fence-mending compromise. "You wanted to talk to us about something?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Keita replied with a grin. "You guys ever been on a raid before?"

My wife and I shared a laugh at that. "A few times," she said in wry understatement. "But only… before, in other MMOs. Not in SAO."

"We did have a chance to get into one once, but that was…" I trailed off, recalling the fateful raid that claimed Diabel's life—a raid to which he'd invited us; an invitation which we'd declined. "A missed opportunity," I said finally.

"Maybe it's your lucky day then," Tetsuo put in. "We've been invited to a small raid group some friends of ours are putting together."

"I was getting to that," Keita said, soundly only a little annoyed.

"So get to it!" Tetsuo said, laughing and giving his guild leader a playful shove.

"Well, it's like this," Keita went on, ignoring Tetsuo. "We've got some friends from another guild who are a little lower level than us, and I was telling them about your adventures in Weilan Marsh. Word is that Amphoric territory is supposed to be an overland raid zone, and it leads to that castle you can see from the shore of the northern lake—Weilan Keep, it's called."

"We've never been that far north on this floor," I said, suppressing a grimace at the thought of tales of our "adventures" spreading elsewhere.

Camilla nodded her agreement. "Anything good drop there?" she asked.

"Dunno," Keita replied with a shrug. "It's not really a popular zone; apparently you can only get to Weilan Keep by raiding through the Marsh, and that's supposed to be a lot of work just to reach a small low-level dungeon."

When Keita didn't go on immediately, Tetsuo spoke up again. "We figure since we're high-level for this floor, between us and our three friends we could put together a couple of small raid parties and get through it a lot more easily. If the two of you joined us, we'd totally breeze through it."

"What do you say?" Keita asked. "I think it'll be a good chance to hone our skills. Someday we might make it to the front lines, and we'll need to know how to act in a raid."

I'm not sure why I chose that moment to look over at Sachi. Perhaps it was because by this point, I'd been around the Black Cats at least enough to know what to expect when the group started talking about going adventuring. And sure enough: the more Keita talked about raiding and being on the front lines, the less comfortable Sachi looked.

I glanced to the side, wondering if my wife had noticed that, but when she turned to look at me it was obvious where her mind was. "What do you think, Kadyn?"

"I think," I said, fingering the necklace I still wore, "that I'd rather not find out whether or not Gekkekagh can take back his blessing."

Camilla stuck out her tongue, amused. "Seriously? You're worried about losing the ability to wander aimlessly through a nasty low-level swamp without being attacked by frogmen?"

"No," I said, in complete earnest despite the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "I'm worried about losing a necklace that gives me +5 to Agility. That's worth at least a level to me."

There was laughter around the table; I doubted there was anyone present who could fail to sympathize with the desire not to lose a piece of gear with good stats. "Besides," I added. "I think we're going to be pretty busy anyway starting tomorrow."

"Oh!" Camilla said, as if the thought of the conflict hadn't occurred to her. "He's right, I'm sorry, we've got to meet up with the Army tomorrow."

"The Army?" Keita asked. "Ah, right, the bandit prisoners—how did that go?"

"It'll make a funny story for later," I said. "But in the meantime, we should probably give you an idea of what to expect."

Having talked through the whole plan several times from different angles thus far helped the explanation go more smoothly; it didn't take long to clearly outline the basics for the Black Cats. It wasn't an especially complicated plan once you boiled it all down.

"Seriously?" Keita asked, sounding amazed. "The Army is coming here?"

"So to speak," I confirmed. "We don't know how many they're sending or exactly what they plan to do, but the general idea is what I just described: they're going to patrol for bandits, recruit new members, and try to organize a militia."

The Black Cats looked back and forth to one another. No one answered until Tetsuo and Ducker—pretty much at the same time—both exclaimed, "Awesome!" They immediately broke into laughter; Ducker sketched out a lazy salute with a mock-serious expression that even drew a laugh from Sachi.

"Well, that's good news," Keita said. "I'm glad someone's finally doing something about the bandit problem here—I guess we should thank you for that."

"It's too bad you can't join us for the raid," Sasamaru said, one of the group's quieter members speaking up at last.

"Yeah, have fun at boot camp!" Ducker said brightly.

That got me to snickering. Camilla laughed too, but then went on in a slightly more sober tone. "Listen, Keita, don't take any chances with your people in there. You won't be able to detect the Amphorics while they're underwater. You can end up getting ambushed by a whole bunch of them in a hurry, especially if you try to retreat or maneuver and pick up more adds."

Keita nodded. "Thanks, I'll make sure we keep that in mind. With only eight of us, we probably won't get too deep anyway before we have to turn back—we just want to do something different and get some practice being in a raid group."

"And loot," said Ducker.

"Definitely loot," agreed Tetsuo. "Look at Sachi! She can barely restrain herself from single-handedly taking on the whole marsh, she wants their drops so badly."

"Oh, shut up, Tetsuo!" Sachi seemed to have mastered the art of pouting in response to the gentle teasing of her guildmates, but it was an art that still allowed for the occasional smile to creep through.

"Well, anyway," Keita said while waving his chopsticks threateningly at Tetsuo. "I just wanted to extend the invitation. We're leaving early in the morning, so we'll probably be off by the time your Army folks get here. Good luck with that!"

"Thanks," I said, meaning it despite my earlier misgivings. "You guys be safe out there. Weilan Marsh is no joke."

"Hah!" Ducker kicked back his chair, standing and striking a dramatic pose. "Your frogmen haven't had to deal with the Black Cats yet! I'll get Parida to make us a soup with all the meat drops!"

On that high note we bid our goodbyes to the Black Cats and headed back to our inn room, leaving to the sound of their friendly laughter. Camilla and I didn't have much to say to each other on the way, but it didn't feel like the dangerous silence that had come between us earlier in the evening—more like the comfortable kind that settled in when there simply wasn't anything that needed saying.

It was just as well. We'd arrived at a compromise that had more or less settled our earlier argument, but I wasn't a whole lot more comfortable with it than I had been before—and I needed to be if I was going to hold up my end of the compromise, a role which largely consisted of not pitching a fit if Camilla decided to go off hunting bandits with the Army. Perhaps sleeping on it would help me come to terms with the risks and give her the space to do what she needed to do.

It was easy enough to say. Not so easy to do. Because once you set aside my very sincere love for my wife and concern for her safety, there was still an uncomfortable nugget of self-interest buried within my fears of something happening to her.

The fact was, there was only one of us who was capable of surviving without the other in this world—and I was pretty sure it wasn't me.