Steed and Emma hoisted themselves into the green Bentley currently parked in the Ministry's own car park. He revved the engine gently, and with its soft growl, they were off along the snow-flecked road. It had stopped snowing for a while now, a good thing too. The streets were thick in the ankle deep whiteness.

Emma sat stiffly in her seat, deep within the reaches of her mind. As the car wound its way through the streets of the city, she could feel Steed's warm gaze upon the back on of her neck. She wanted to say something, but for once she couldn't find any words. She just continued to stare out to the rapidly melting world around the Bentley, her dark, calculating eyes filled with unexpressed thoughts.

And there, suddenly, they were at her apartment. The car flowed to a halt. Mrs Peel faced her friend, faced those warm gray eyes - that seemed to let her into a part of that complex soul. She felt strangely distanced.

"Are you all right?" Steed was sincere.

"I'm fine… Fine," she reassured him when he shot her a knowing look, "Goodbye Steed." She didn't quite look him in the eye.

"Goodbye E- … Mrs Peel." He did.

He knew he should just leave her to herself for a while.

She slid out of the car. Trudging softly through the snow, she twirled the knob on the door and withdrew up the stairs. There she could sort out her addled thoughts.

Steed didn't move the car until he saw the lights flick on in her apartment.

Emma remembered her feet taking her up the stairs, the keys suddenly jangling in her grasp and her apartment door creeping open, all mechanically. She slipped off her coat and sunk onto her couch, her body slumped in some kind of resignation.

It was a sign, wasn't it? It couldn't be anything else. How could it be? No, the fact was: he, Prendergast, was back, and this meant Emma was in danger. She thought of that weekend… a fear of which she had never quite held before. Oh, God, she thought to herself. She ran her fingers across her brow, brushing away straggling locks of hair.

It felt like a dream. It all wasn't processing properly.

It didn't seem credible.

Emma could feel her heart starting to hammer in her chest. Not again… It can't happen again… Oh please no…

No.

I've done it before. I've fought these fears. I can again. I have no fear. I have no fear…

Prendergast is back, and I might very well be in danger, and that's the simple truth. This time I'll be ready. This time.

So like her other concerns and worries, she locked them away, deep down in her heart, to keep them from her.

The fearless Emma Peel.

The night before seemed like a surreal blur. Emma peeled herself off the couch. Groggily she clambered to her feet. She had fallen asleep last night there, remembering suddenly being overcome by a wave of exhaustion.

She chanced a glance at her clock, hoping she hadn't awoken at some ungodly hour. It was around ten past seven in the morning. Better get up.

She groaned and trudged into her bathroom, and then slithered into a hot shower. She was just starting to enjoy herself, soaking up the heat of the gloriously temperate water when -

The phone rang.

Silently pouring out a stream of impolite words the girl stomped out of the shower, hurrying to pull a towel around herself and sped down her hallway, trying desperately to hold up the towel.

She flung her arm at the telephone, and grasping it in soggy fingers, and put it to her ear.

She knew exactly who it was.

"Steed."

"Mrs Peel! Good Morning!" The man said cheerily.

"Steed do you know what-"

"Ah, glad to hear you're feeling better now. I just thought I'd pop over for breakfast."

"Well I-"

"Good!"

"Goodbye Mrs Peel."

"Good-bye Steed."

It seemed Steed wasn't going to take no as an answer. Probably because he knew it would almost definitely be the answer he'd get.

Emma stalked back to the shower and immersed herself under the flow. Despite her annoyance, she could hardly suppress a small smile.