"Are you sure we can trust them, Michael?" Rin asked, tugging on Roa's sleeve.

"Of course we can," Roa said, not at all sure. He knocked on the door again, and was about to give up and come up with an excuse to explain his failure to get in touch with his supposed best friend, when the door was opened by an older woman. 60s, Roa guessed. Caucasian, like himself, with white hair tied back in a tight bun.

"Why, hello there," the woman said. When her eyes lit on Rin, she smiled and knelt to meet her at eye level. "You're very cute, you know!" She reached out her hand to tousle Rin's hair. Rin shut herself off at first, trying to block off any sensation of physical contact with someone she didn't already know, lest they attack something else dear to her. But the touch on her head was very warm and gentle, and she felt herself leaning into it instead.

The woman smiled, and brought herself back up to her full height. She addressed Roa: "So, how can I help you?"

He stopped trying to look behind her into the seemingly vacant house, and said, "Is this Waver Velvet's house?"

"One moment," the woman said, and turned around. She brought her hand to her mouth to use as a sort of trumpet, like an angel in Revelations. Roa thought this was amusing, since he had always fancied himself like unto the Lamb. (Naturally, Arcueid was the Woman.) "Waver!" she called. "Your friends are here!"

XXX

Waver Velvet was still recovering from the episode with Ciel some days earlier. He had told Glenn and Martha that he had sustained a nasty fall, and that Alexei, his brawny roommate (who was staying in Fuyuki as a Greek exchange student, which cover story annoyed Rider far less than Waver thought it would; "I may have been born in Macedonia, but culturally I've always been a Greek, boy! Who could be otherwise, with a tutor like Aristotle?" had been his response) would be taking care of him, and that they shouldn't disturb him. So, when he heard Martha's call, he was nonplussed, and then very suspicious.

"Rider," he said quietly.

Rider materialized instantly on the ground, which was a true statement except that Rider had this truly annoying habit of not dematerializing, preferring instead to suck every last bit of prana out of his Master in the effort to "not waste any moment of this divinely granted second chance at life! Why, boy, if I did that, I would be spitting in Zeus' face, and I assure you that that itself would doom our chances of success in any military campaign, even one as minor as this Holy Grail War of yours."

Rider annoyed him a lot sometimes. But on the other hand, Waver felt like he could trust him implicitly. Like he didn't even need to keep Command Seals in reserve to control him. He wasn't sure why he felt that way, but he surmised that it was because Rider was so bombastic, and wore his feelings on his sleeve all the time, that he couldn't possibly keep any traitorous thoughts hidden long enough to plan and then act on them. Not that he wasn't smart. But Waver thought of him like a well-trained border collie: highly intelligent, and totally loyal.

"What are you thinking, Master?" Rider asked, from his position on the bedroom floor, surrounded by crisp bags and strategy game collectible t-shirts.

"I think our position's been compromised," Waver said. "Ordinarily, I would assume it was Ciel, since she's the only one who knows about us. However, two points against that: First, Martha's call implies there's more than one person here, and there's no way Ciel would have brought her Master. Not voluntarily, anyway; and if her Master is here, I'd rather not meet him."

"And the second?"

"I don't sense the presence of a Servant. So, it could be an enemy Master, with an ally," Waver said. "I'll have to ask you to do some recon, Rider, and let me know what you find."

"Of course, boy; I'm proud of you. Exactly what I would've done!"

Rider smiled, and walked out the bedroom door, his naked thigh muscles rippling.

Why couldn't he at least wear some trousers?

XXX

Rider descended the steps, and saw Martha facing him, so he waved his hand apologetically and said "Sorry, Waver's not feeling up to leaving his room right now."

Then he saw Assassin, and his fears were assuaged. He told Martha, making sure to be loud enough for Waver to hear, "I'll bring his friends upstairs, don't worry. He's sure to be glad they came. Thank you for letting them in, Martha."

"Oh, Alexei! It's my pleasure; anything for Waver. We only wish we could have taken care of him like this when he was younger, but," she added conspiratorially, "it's our duty to take advantage of any opportunity to see him! If you ever have grandchildren, make sure you spend time with them as much as possible before they get old enough to not want you around."

Rider nodded, and promised to do so.

Martha bowed out discreetly, happy that her grandson was surrounded by such wonderful young people. "Young man," she said to Roa, "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

Roa thought about the interaction at the front door, and said, "Thank you, Martha." He pointed to Rin. "You mind taking care of her for a bit? She hasn't eaten lunch yet, and you know how kids are when they miss a meal."

Rin looked up at him confused, but if Michael wasn't worried, then she supposed she should be brave too.

And the old woman's touch was kind.

"Oh, of course!" Martha exclaimed. She beckoned Rin over with a wag of her finger. Rin went over to her, and was unexpectedly assaulted with a hug. When she managed to squirm out of it, Martha brought her in, keeping up a rapid fire of questions and remarks on how cute she was. Rin immediately regretted her decision, and stuck her tongue out at Roa. Martha couldn't've noticed; she was too busy showing Rin how to use an egg baller. Michael made a weird gesture with his middle finger, but Rin figured that she had won the insult contest since Michael's gesture made no sense to her, so it couldn't have been very meaningful.

Roa turned to Rider and shrugged. "The girl's fun to play with, what can I say."

Rider patted his shoulder with a chuckle. "You're lucky; my companion is far less fun to be around."

Roa eyed the stairs. "He's upstairs, I suppose?"

Rider joined his eyes. "Indeed." He began walking to the steps, and called for Roa to join him. Roa did so, after sparing a quick glance to make sure Rin was being properly annoyed by Martha's sudden infatuation with the girl.

It gave him a sort of satisfaction to see, one which he didn't think too much about. Best to leave the emotional introspection for Ciel; that girl was good at that, after all, and seemed to revel in it. Which wasn't really Roa's style, nor did he feel any desire to make it so.

As they ascended the steps, Roa noticed Rider's bare legs, his lower half yielding to modern standards of modesty only in a cutoff pair of jeans, which at least covered his ample and firm hindquarters. "So, Rider," Roa cleared his throat. "Have you found the modern world to your liking? I know you like the girls, at the least."

"Assassin," Rider whispered, "this world is tortured by an entirely different spirit than the one that prevailed in my day." The stairs creaked underfoot. "Modern men and women live diluted of the powerful, almost crazed individualism that made heroes out of myself and my contemporaries; which itself was nothing compared to that which animated the heroes of Homer. It feels almost like any shining stars in the sky have been blotted out by the streetlights covering these cities."

"So what you're saying," Roa mused, "is that you prefer girls with a bit more spunk than the demure, effete ladies you have met in this town?"

Rider chuckled. "In a manner of speaking, Assassin."

"I call 'em as I see 'em, what can I say."

They reached the top of the stairs, and could see a wooden door before them, with a purple mark on it. The mark glowed softly, in the shape of a serpent with coiled head, being bitten by two other serpents resting perpendicular to the first, at a point midway down the first's body.

"A cross?" Roa asked.

"My Master has... odd tastes," Rider said. "Come." He knocked on the door.

Roa shuddered, feeling a tugging inside of himself.

You okay in there, Mom?

No answer, but he knew her enough to not need one.

What a silly girl!

XXX

Rin was not used to this, not at all. Her parents loved her - Father especially, always taking great pains to ensure that his dearest daughter was brought up in the aristocracy and magical proficiency she deserved - but they always had a certain distance about them. As if they were worried that too deep a bond would endanger something in what they were trying to do, the experiment that was the continued passing down of Magical tradition and power. Rin often saw Mother fight against her own facial muscles, wishing to turn the demure smile she wore into a deep, throaty laugh; but something always stopped her from doing so.

Rin sensed there was a deeper sadness than Mother wanted her to know about. As was her job, Rin kept that observation to herself, and never asked Mother about it, lest it make things even more difficult for her. It was the least she could do, to respect the great efforts Mother went to, to protect her. From... what? Rin didn't know, but it felt like there was something there. Something dangerous.

Mother would often call for Father at those times, as if to save them both from that which lurked inside.

Rin remembered only wishing that she could escape having to fulfill that fate in the future, the thing she felt a magical woman needed to be.

That was why she had been so glad that her Father had chosen her to be his primary successor, so she could escape the prison she saw Mother in.

That was why she... didn't miss Sakura as much as she felt she should.

She didn't really know how to manage those feelings.

She knew she loved her - former - sister, but she also knew that she had been the one Father had loved.

The one he had chosen to stay with him.

It was way too complicated.

And it hurt her head and her heart to descend again and again into this bottomless pit of internal conflict.

And what did it matter anymore, anyway? Father was...

He was...

Why couldn't she bring out that next word? What was wrong with her? Why was she kept trapped by something so very, very small? Wasn't she better than that? She was brilliant, everything that Father had dreamed of for an heir, and yet she was being defeated by a simple *word* that any idiot could write! Just a few strokes of the pen and the concept could be made real and a five-year-old could read it in kana. How could something so meaningless have so much meaning?

And why did it inspire the greatest fear in her breast? A fear of something that was everywhere and nowhere all at once, something that consumed all of existence like a giant ogre but also was a tiny little worm invading her soul, bringing rot from the inside?

It just made no sense!

So, she didn't understand this old woman before her, doting on her with the tenderness of... a mother bird on her chicks. A scene Rin had witnessed before, once, while on a walk with Father in the park. He had been teaching her about the flow of mana between the playing children and families, the way it curled around them and, with a little effort, how it could be seen to carry all of their emotional affects right there in the open. He relished the opportunity to study them all like giant rats in an invisible maze, but she felt drawn to the bird's nest in a tree high above. She could only see the bird and its chicks, no mana, but she knew there was something there that Father had not seen. Or had turned his eye from.

So, this woman - Martha, she had heard her called - giving her cookies and asking her to help bake some more, giving her also licks of the mixing spoon with its sweet chocolate frosting, made Rin only feel that deep thing that both was and wasn't fear. This sense that there was something in this world that, despite her great wealth in both money and her parents' secure care of her, she had been cheated out of. And it was already too late for her to take it into herself, and Martha's efforts were way too distant for them to ever reach Rin's heart. Rin felt sorry for her. Though, she couldn't bring herself to care very much about the woman, no matter how kind she was. Rin could only feel sorry for herself, really.

She found herself wishing for Ciel's presence. There was less abject tenderness there, but there was also a pain that attracted Rin to the blue-clad Servant.

Still, Rin couldn't simply abandon what made a Tohsaka a Tohsaka. Father would hate her if she did so.

So, she smiled, even laughed, and let the façade of bright childhood find its way into her eyes as she licked the spoon, and wished it were a dagger she could swallow.

XXX

Roa lay sprawled on Waver's bed, with the Magus himself sitting on the floor, wearing a uniquely annoyed look on his face. This amused Roa; was this kid so green that even the minor inconvenience of having to move seats would fuck up his mental state enough to let it show? Or was he, rather, just so unused to having to hide his feelings behind a mask of calm and poise? Then he'd soon have been swallowed up in magico-academic feuds, let alone something as bloody as a Holy Grail War.

Good thing he had Rider on his side. Roa envied Waver a little bit, that he had managed, by sheer luck - as far Roa could tell, anyway - to summon one of the strongest Servants in the Throne, who seemed to be listening to him as much out of affection as anything else. But, on the other hand, there was something promising about the boy. Ciel certainly thought so, and as much as Roa liked to rag on her, she was no idiot. How many times had she killed him? Five? Thirty? It didn't really matter; once you did it a single time, you could brag for the rest of eternity that you had bested the great Prince of the Vampires, Michael Roa Valdamjong. There wasn't much point in doing it any more, since you couldn't win anyway.

He smiled to himself.

What is that kid talking about anyway? Roa had been too busy thinking to pay attention.

"...so as I was saying," Waver said, with a glance of contempt at the Assassin, "we need to ally with Ciel to take down Archer. You with me, Rider?"

"Of course, boy!" said the giant. He was about to slap Waver on the shoulder, before the boy's instinctive cower warned him off. "I would never get in the way of you and your heart." A vein in Waver's forehead began to bulge. "Why, if I did so, I'd be no better than King Creon at his worst." He pondered for a moment. "Boy, do you think yourself more a Haemion or an Antigone?"

"Which one would finish the analogy quicker?" Waver asked, dejected.

"Will you stop being such a bore, kid?" Roa sighed and sat up on the bed. Clearly, this would take a third party's involvement; this Master/Servant pair were *way* too codependent and nothing would ever get done if he left it to them. "Look," he said, as Waver reluctantly turned his attention to him, "It's very simple. You," he jabbed a finger at Waver, "join us," pointed at himself, "and save a sweet, innocent girl who's being," he mimed knives stabbing his torso, "tortured. This is something you people care about, right? Morality, all that shit?"

"As anyone would!" Waver protested. "But we still need to consider the risks to each member of the team. We'd need to spend at least three or four days planning, since we know almost nothing about the Matou manor. Plus, Archer might show up, and what would we do then?"

"I'll take care of that," Rider said, grave. "Goldie and I have some... differences of opinion we need to sort out."

Waver raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that, Rider? Last I saw, you two seemed to get along like old buds."

"Don't fool yourself, boy. Goldie and I respect each other, but if he shows up at that hellhole to defend the torture of an innocent young girl, I'll know that all the things he says about his position relative to others are things he actually means. Anyone that deluded needs to be put out of their misery for their own good; it would be an insult to him if I were to let it slide, in fact."

"Well, then," said Waver. "Assassin. Can I trust that you would, then, take care of freeing the girl? Rider may keep Archer busy, but there's no guarantee there won't be other Servants involved. My intelligence on the Matou Master is very sparse, but I do know he's not considered very strong. Still, the manor is old, and there may be traps filling every crevice."

"I'm an Assassin, kid; don't worry about traps. We're built to get around shit like that." Roa smiled.

"So, are we all agreed?" Waver asked.

"Your word is my will," said Rider.

"I'm in," said Roa.

"Excellent! Now all we have to-"

"Sorry," Roa interrupted. "Isn't there someone else you forgot to ask?"

Waver blushed. "I... I assumed you spoke for Ciel, you know, because the two of you are..."

"What? What are we?"

"You're just one Servant! Don't take my words in a weird way!"

"Just yankin' your chain, dude. Don't sweat it. Still," Roa winked, "do you want to do Ciel the honour of shaking her hand to formally seal the deal? It'd be pretty bloody, but I can get her out here for you."

"S-sure," Waver said. "Not that I really care, I mean, but if she would prefer that, I guess I could..."

"Great!" Roa stuck his hand in his jacket, and pulled out a knife. He extended it to Waver, tip first. After the Master regained his composure at having a scary man point a weapon at him, he took it, gingerly. He looked at the glinting metal, saw his reflection in it.

What a weak boy. Could he be the man Ciel needed? What sort of woman, let alone one as powerful as she, would ever give him a second look? And yet she had! She had indicated to him, as far as he could tell, that she respected him for who he was. If not as a person, then at least as a Magus. And she came here, through her messenger, Roa, to ask for his help!

Maybe he could be what she needed!

Macho Waver, here we go!

"So, Assassin," he said, animated with newfound confidence, "What do I need to do with this thing? Draw some blood as a starter for the ritual to summon Ciel?"

"In a manner of speaking," said Roa. "If you want to bring Ciel out here, right now, instead of waiting till the night of the operation, you're going to have to stab me. In the chest. And you're going to have to carve open my chest cavity and drag her out. Bloody, and naked, like a baby forcibly torn from its placenta."

Waver gulped.

Roa sighed. "Didn't think so, kid. Hey, Rider. You've got a long way to go with him. In the meantime, I'll go get the Tohsaka girl from downstairs; I dunno about her, but if it was me down there with the old biddy I'd be praying for the sweet blades of the Church just to cut her insipid saccharine smile off her face."

Waver didn't see Assassin get up, but he heard the footsteps, and the door closing.

He had been able to hold himself together for the few minutes that it was necessary, but now tears filled his eyes and prismatically played the glinting light reflecting off the knife blade into rainbows, framing his vision in multicolored accusations, tearing him apart from the inside.

Rider sat down next to him, and gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder. He said something reassuring, but it couldn't mean anything to Waver. Nothing could.

Because all he saw in the reflection was his own face, twisted and bent by the convexity of the blade, blurred by the cloudy water in his eyes, and framed by the ironic rainbows jumping out of it.

And all he saw was a weak boy.

Heyo. Quick update, this time. Thanks to TungstenCat for looking it over.

Nothing else much to say here, but hope y'all enjoy, and see you next time!