It was barely five in the morning on Friday when Miranda walked up the north stairs into the main Hub which was still in night mode. She had spent a fitful night, waking frequently despite the sedative. The dreams had varied… Isabetta's skin shining with sweat, her face flushed and gasping in pleasure as Miranda's fingers moved in her… Miranda weeping beside Isabetta's sickbed as she coughed and struggled for breath. But by far the worst dreams were those of ordinary memories… Miranda stacking firewood outside, the sound of Isabetta's angelic voice singing inside the house drifting through the open doorway… Isabetta bent over a piece of sewing, her brow furrowed in concentration, her bottom lip caught in her teeth… Miranda doing the laundry, wiping the sweat from her brow as Isabetta tapped her shoulder, offering a cup of water, a ghost of their courtship. When Miranda had woken from that dream an hour ago, her heart had splintered. She had cried until her tears ran dry, gasping out dry sobs into the darkness. I miss you… I miss you so much…

She craned her neck towards Jack's office and saw the light was out. Usually the other immortal only slept a few hours a night and would be at his desk by now, buried in paperwork. It was more evidence of how good the Welshman was for Jack. I would never have wanted this for Betta… she thought quickly and felt a pang of sadness for Ianto. Despite how heart broken she'd been when Isabetta had died and how desperately she missed the other woman, she never once wished Isabetta was immortal, nor had she for any of her other mortal lovers. It would have broken her heart more than her death had she had to watch the delicate and gentle woman endure the cruelty and violence of the Game.

She decided to leave the Hub in night mode so as not to disturb the two men. She headed down into the autopsy bay to check the printer for the test results. The light on the printer was flashing. Out of paper… She filled the paper tray and hit the button to get the printer started again. She headed into the Hub's kitchen and then remembered there would be no coffee with Ianto still asleep and she had no desire to risk the Welshman's wrath by touching the coffee maker. She gave a passing thought once again to buying one of those single cup brewers. Ifan would shoot me… Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her fob watch, clicking the button to open it. The coffee shop should be open by now

She went back down to her rooms for her gun and coat. She decided to take the invisible lift up to the Plass even though the Tourist office entrance would bring her closer to the coffee shop, again so as not to set off the proximity alarms and risk waking the two men. As the lift ascended upwards, she secured her gun in its shoulder holster and her sword in her coat.

It was quiet up on the Plass, a chilly November morning with an overcast sky. As she walked down the quay towards the coffee shop, she heard the sound of footsteps a discrete distance behind her. She stopped for a second and walked over to the railing, pretending to gaze out over the bay. The footsteps stopped as well, a smile tugging at her lips.

She called out, "Kiernan? You want a cup of coffee?"

A freckled young man with sandy hair came up behind her. "You're not supposed to know I'm there, Mao-Lin."

She'd first learned of the Watchers in the 70's. It had been 1973 and she'd been living San Francisco. The young woman had red streaks in her hair and Miranda had first noticed her sitting in the library a few tables away. She'd been reading the same page for more than ten minutes. She didn't think anything of it until a week later when she saw the same woman in line at the grocery shop and then again, in the park while she was jogging. Miranda was a patient woman. For over a year, on and off, she had serendipitous sightings of the woman with the red streaked hair, a little too often to be mere coincidence.

After two years, she'd finally had enough. She went for a jog in a local park and taken a turn onto a rarely used path. The red streaked woman had followed her. Miranda had easily overpowered her, pulled her sword and demanded an explanation. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd seen a mortal used by one of her kind to case a potential opponent. Much to her surprise, the young woman, Joyce Greenfield, was honest with her about what she was and why she was following her. Joyce had been a true believer in the Watcher cause, that the outcome of the Game would have a profound impact on humanity and that it needed to be recorded for posterity. The two women had become friends and Joyce had remained her Watcher until her death in 1989. Since then, Miranda had been of the rare type of Immortal who not only knew about the Watchers but tried her best to befriend those assigned to her.

She'd had a different Watcher, Dafydd Bowen, in Caernarfon. Dafydd hadn't wanted to uproot his family to relocate to the larger city so she'd been assigned someone new. Kiernan Davies was a bright young man but had only just moved into the field from research. Dafydd had arranged a meeting between her and Kiernan and the two of them had chatted over coffee.

"You need to work on your tailing technique, kiddo," she teased as they stepped into the coffee shop. "I could hear you. Follow from farther away and don't walk with the same cadence as whomever you're following. What were you doing up on the Plass so early anyway?"

"Couldn't sleep. Bethan and I had a fight. I slept on the couch. I needed to talk to you anyway."

Miranda nodded as they ordered their coffee. Bethan was Kiernan's girlfriend. The two had just started living together and it was causing friction in their relationship. He'd been asking her advice though she couldn't imagine why. She didn't have the greatest relationship track record. "This is my treat, Kiernan. Was it the toilet paper roll or the laundry this time?"

"Both," Kiernan confessed with a laugh as they moved down the counter to wait for their coffee.

She joined in the laughter but it felt forced. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Not in here, Mao-Lin."

She nodded and accepted the cup from the barista. She stepped outside with Kiernan onto the quay. They moved off back to the railing. Miranda leaned her back against the railing, sipping her coffee, grimacing at the taste. I should've just waited for Ifan… "What's up, Kiernan?"

"I need to warn you-"

She interrupted him sharply, "Whatever you're about to tell me, stop. Don't say another word." She pushed off from the railing and quickly walked away, tossing her coffee into the bin.

"Mao-Lin! Wait!"

She turned around, slicing at the air with her flattened hand for emphasis with each phrase. "No! I will not listen to this! You do not interfere. Not now. Not ever." She spun on her heel and started briskly walking back to the Plass.

"Adaf Terfel is in London!" he shouted at her back.

By the Gods! Miranda whirled around, white hot fury rising in her throat at the name and Kiernan's foolishness. "You shouldn't have told me that, Kiernan. Go home." She turned to leave again and added with a final tone. "We're through."

"Mao-Lin! Please…"

She kept walking and didn't answer him. His voice calling her name faded into the background as she turned the corner towards the Plass. She stepped onto the invisible lift, using her PDA to activate it. The Hub was, thankfully, still in night mode. She stepped off the paving stone and headed for the autopsy bay. She leaned heavily on her desk, trying to quiet the rage bubbling within her. She wondered if fate was playing some sort of cruel trick. She'd been thinking about Terfel since the drug had brought her memories of Isabetta to the surface. Had it not been for that evil hearted sadist, she never would have been abducted to England. She never would have travelled across Italy at that particular time. She never would have met Isabetta.

She slammed her clenched fists down on her desk, her whole body shaking with fury as the memories flashed in her mind's eye… Terfel's foul breath on her face… the sharp pain as he thrust into her… the foreign words she hadn't understood then… I hath branded you a whore… With an angry roar, she swept her hands across the desk, knocking everything to the floor with a loud clatter and a flutter of paper. She slammed her fists into the desk again, her shoulders shaking with rage. She inhaled sharply and then rolled her shoulders. She forced herself to unclench her fists, she placed her palms flat on the desk, flexing the fingers. As she exhaled slowly, she tried to force calm.

"Will?" Jack asked tentatively. Upon seeing the mess at her feet, he crossed the room quickly and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey… hey… what's wrong?"

"Don't touch me!" she cried out, his touch startling her. She recoiled from the touch, her arm swing upwards. Her forearm impacting with his, knocking his hand away, hard. She backed away quickly, almost panic-stricken, her feet sliding on the fallen paper.

"Woah! Hey, take it easy!" Jack backed away from her, worry and concern on his face, rubbing his arm.

Miranda, again, tried to force calm. "Jack… I'm sorry… I'm… Goddess below, I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I'm sorry," she stammered.

"What's going on, Will?" he asked, not unkindly but with an edge to his voice.

"It's nothing… It's… I'm just a little jumpy, that's all, Jack. I didn't sleep well." She hoped that he would leave it at that as she bent down to clean the mess she'd made. She dropped a messy pile of papers onto her desk. "Really, Jack. I'm fine."

She could tell by the look on his face that he didn't believe her for a minute but he didn't press the issue, instead dropped down to help her. When the two of them had gotten everything up off the floor, Jack turned to her and stared. He didn't say anything for a while but must have decided to let it go and said, "Did you get the results?"

She shook her head. "The printer was out of paper and then I got… distracted."

He walked over to the printer, pulling out the small stack of paper and handing it to her. "Let me know as soon as you can."