Fiona's latest visitor came to her apartment. This time, it was a woman with dark hair. The apartment was well-maintained but virtually unadorned, except for a painting and a comfortable-looking couch that stuck out like a cherry tree in the middle of the desert. "Sign this form, and you will receive a state stipend for your expenses within six weeks," Handler said. She wiped her glasses. "So. Have you made progress with Colonel Stahl?"

"We're partners in the therapy group," Nightfall said. "Was that…?"

"No," Handler said. "We considered getting involved, but it was deemed more risky than it was worth. There were only four people besides Stahl and yourself, so the odds weren't bad. Loid Forger says the therapist had full control, anyway. Of course, it's always possible Stahl asked for you. I'm told you got a visit from him before the first session. You seem to have made an impression. I also heard he asked you out after."

"He invited me to an alehouse for drinks, along with a couple veterans on the staff," Nightfall said. "It was strictly friendly. He was clear about that."

"Or he wants you to think that," Handler said with a sly smile. "You aren't the only asset we have monitoring Colonel Stahl. Several people have reported hearing him talk about you, quite spontaneously. You must have made an impression on him somehow. Also, I was told there was an interaction between Stahl and Gerald Gorey. Has the situation with the director caused you any more trouble?"

"Not at all," Nightfall said. "He never gave me real trouble in the first place. He thinks he is in love with me. He also thinks there is something he can do to win my favor, or at least a certain amount of gratitude. He is inconsequential. Even if he were to try to make trouble, he does not have the power to be more than a nuisance."

"Still, such feelings can drive someone to extremes," Handler said deadpan. "Take care that it doesn't get out of hand."

"What are you saying?" Nightfall said irritably. "That I'm responsible for how he feels about me?"

"Of course not," her superior said. "What you are responsible for is judging who might be a threat, or become one. The powers of the director of a hospital are not nothing, and that is leaving out what he might do all on his own."

"Why don't you just admit what you're really doing?" Nightfall said. "You want me off Strix."

"I have many, many, many reasons to keep you as far away from Strix as possible," Handler said. "I still have no idea what you are talking about."

Even the irritation drained from Nightfall's face. "Twilight can't work with me, because of what happened," she said. "I had to save him. I made him look weak."

"He's grateful to be alive," Handler said. "That's why he is trying even harder to make you a part of Strix. He even told Yor an even more half-arsed story than we already had that you saved him from a fall. The only thing troubling is that you are the one who will not accept this. It makes me wonder about your willingness to be seen as the lover of a cripple."

"Steven isn't weak," Fiona said. "He's stronger as half a man than most men are whole."

"And I never said he wasn't," Handler said. Slowly, her expression became genuine sadness. "Not everything is about Strix, Nightfall," she said. "Not everything is about him, either. The fact is, a great many things are being reevaluated. In your case, that includes the best use of your obviously considerable talents. For now, you are getting by on experience and instincts. We still have to assume that there will be a time when age will wear you down, and you keep making the point. We have sent you on ten different honeytrap missions in your career, before your present assignment. You have not gathered a single piece of reliable intelligence that couldn't be obtained and independently verified by other methods."

"My assignment was to satisfy my partners," Nightfall said. "I always did. I made sure they knew they satisfied me."

"About that," Handler said. "We do keep track of feedback. Want to hear a few of your greatest hits? Because we added a few since last time. `Like putting it in a rigged pachinko machine.' `Thought she just hated talking in bed, realized she got good in bed to get out of talking.' `Wished she would fake it once in a while like everyone else.' `Like she was using me to scraw herself, and she learned to do it from a man.' That last one was from one of the women we assigned to you."

Fiona's face was frozen in a grimace. "That's not the whole picture, or a fair one," Handler said. "From what we know now, you didn't do any better or worse than other agents using the same techniques. Back then, straight-up blackmail material was considered enough to justify an operation. But, again, things have changed, and you are not changing. On top of that, we really are short on agents qualified for honeytrap operations, which you officially can and have performed. We could move you from field duties, but where would you go? A desk analyst? You would be violently bored within an hour. An instructor? The things that make you a good field agent are the things that cannot be taught. We are giving you this assignment, while you are recovering, to let you renew your skills and adapt to changing needs. If you do not, it will at least give you a path to a soft landing."

"Right," Fiona said. "Thanks. You can go."

Handler rose to do just that, then looked back. "Could you just tell me one thing, Nightfall?" she asked. "Honestly? Why did you fall in love with Twilight?"

Nightfall pondered for a short but pointed moment of silence. "Honestly?" she said. "Because I chose to." She sat at the table long after Handler had closed the door behind her.

The following day, Fiona had her second physical therapy class, to expand on the exercises they were expected to continue daily on their own. Gorey looked in at the beginning, then promptly withdrew. She was relieved, but her mood did not improve. She was almost entirely silent, and several times, she fell out of rhythm with her partner. Once, a wrong move made her cry out in pain. She looked up, expecting Stahl to scold her. Instead, she found him looking back at her with a sad, steady gaze. "It will be all right," he said.

At the end of the session, he politely invited her out again. He showed neither surprise nor disappointment when she shook her head. "I'd like to be with you tonight," she said. That held his attention without drawing a clear response. "How about this? I'll come to your place and fix you dinner."