Night was always when she missed him the most.

It didn't seem to matter where she might be or who she was with or what she was doing. Every time she had these bouts where she felt an immense gap in her life where he was meant to go, it was always night. The emptiness had hit her once while she'd been staring up at the stars while out on patrol at the ranch. She'd curled into a little crouching ball and cried then, right out in the middle of the pasture. Another time had been while sleeping in a safehouse that was the size of a sardine can, and her team lay all around her. She couldn't cry then, not without waking up everyone, so instead she gripped her pillow hard and tried not to remember how his arms were not around her and his warm bulk was not at her back.

The brief moments that they did spend together only made the aching emptiness worse. She had fresh memories that sprang to mind when she thought of how he was absent. She could bring into her head clear as day how he smelled, how his skin felt under her fingers, how he smiled at her from across a pillow, and it hurt so much worse than any hit or fall she'd taken.

When they were together, sometimes she would cling to him and wish that she would never have to let go. He would wrap his arms around her then and ask what was on her mind, and all she allowed herself to do was shake her head and bury her face in his chest. What good would sharing that gaping emptiness do either of them? It would only serve to upset them both and possibly cause him to lose focus on the goal. The only cure was to never be apart again, and that was currently impossible. He had his role to fill and she had hers.

Sometimes there were brief respites where the emptiness was chased away when they were apart. Calls here and there snuck in between missions and debriefings and strategy sessions could do that. A torrent of messages flowing between them at all hours kept it from consuming her completely. But she could never entirely forget it was there, not even when she assumed a totally different identity for the purposes of her work.

And yet, the emptiness wasn't all bad. She knew that it would disappear the moment she was back with him. It galvanized her in bad situations, gave her strength to keep fighting because she would not let him feel that same emptiness for the rest of his life just because she had the poor luck not to come back. It made her throw herself into her work even more because a future where they would no longer have to fight and therefore no longer have to be apart would be that much closer. It made her value the stolen moments together all the more because of their rarity.

The dark kitchen she'd been standing in suddenly brightened as someone flipped on the light.

"Zabre? What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Ecruteak."

She turned and ran across the kitchen to the speaker, flinging her arms around him and causing him to stagger a bit at the force of her hug. Stefan's strong arms immediately encircled her and she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to keep tears from escaping. The emptiness had gone with his return to his home, and the relief and joy that replaced it was overwhelming. She would be safe here from the emptiness for a little while here with him.