3 AM. Saber stared out the flat's only window onto the parking lot flooded by orange street lights. Their black Volkswagen waited just outside the door. Occasionally people could be seen, slinking toward the convenience store, no doubt wrapped up in some shady business. Still, Saber believed she could trust the thugs more than she could trust the man she currently shared a room with.

"You should have let me die."

"I know."

Pulling the curtains closed Saber collapsed onto one of the two mangy beds. A lamp provided minimal light, but you could just tell the outline of the boy Kiritsugu rescued sleeping soundly beside the man.

"I'm not going to help you."

"Yes, you are."

Saber sighed and wiped her bangs to the side. She massaged her forearm where the fire had consumed her skin. That was two days ago when after a little first aid, Kiritsugu proclaimed her good to go.

"I don't owe you anything. In fact, you are the one who owes me. You effectively killed my chance at the grail and condemned me to this pathetic existence."

"Bitterness doesn't suit you. I thought the king would be above holding grudges."

At her feet the air conditioner churned out a frosty climate which chilled to the bone. Earlier she had moved to turn the temperature up only to find out that Kiritsugu controlled the thermostat. 'After all, I pay the bill,' she remembers.

"Here I'm nobody. And it's your fault I'm stuck."

"No, it's not," he chuckled dryly. "Don't hold me responsible for the train wreck called your life. They were your choices."

Kiritsugu turned off the lamp and relaxed on his back. "I'm no saint either. And I don't claim to be in any respect better than you. By all measures you were an immensely more forceful and effective person that I am. It's just I'm not as naïve."

Saber stretched herself out and made sure to face away from the intolerable Mage hunter just across the desk. She played with the frilly edges of her sheet as she began counting. Since the fire, counting was the only way she managed to fall asleep.

"I should have died," she whispered to no one in particular.

X

"Your child is so cute."

Saber jumped. A woman had joined her on the bench. Before them a number of children frolicked in the playground. Shirou had found a playmate in a taller redhead.

"I apologize if I frightened you."

"No, I'm the one to blame. Lately, I've been a little on edge." Saber concentrated on a meek smile.

The woman nodded in understanding. "My name is Linda by the way."

"Arturia, but most people call me Sabrina." Saber extended her hand and Linda shook it. "And your child?"

Linda pointed to the girl playing with Shirou. "Melissa. She's seven years old."

"Shirou," Saber anticipated. "He's eight. And," Saber admitted, "he isn't mine. I'm the nanny."

Linda formed an 'o' with her mouth. "I see. Then he's very lucky to have such an attentive guardian. I haven't seen your eyes leave him once."

"I believe in doing my job well." An awkward silence ensued as Saber returned to monitoring Shirou.

Linda attempted to revive the conversation. "So," she said, "where does he go to school?"

"Avenue House School." Saber caught something in her peripheral and stood up abruptly. A sprinting Shirou practically tackled her. She absorbed the exuberant embrace and rustled his brown hair.

"Are you ready to go?"

The redhead jogged over as well and joined her mom. Linda pulled her purse strap over her shoulder. "They took to each other very well, don't you agree?"

"Most assuredly." The wind picked up and blew her blonde bangs to the left.

Shirou tugged on her shirt. "Hey Saber, can we get ice cream? Father always buys me chocolate when we go out."

"Sure, just let me make sure I bought the correct credit card-"

The phone rang. She answered the cell only for her countenance to fall. "Yes sir. I understand. Right away."

Saber pressed end and turned to Shirou. "I'm sorry to say that we must go straight home. Your father wants to see you."

She addressed Linda. "It was nice meeting you. Perhaps we'll see each other again?"

"Of course." Linda with her hand around Melissa's watched the two leave. Then recalling something strange, she called out. "Why did he call you 'Saber'?

Saber stopped and looked over her shoulder. "It's just a game he likes to play."

X

They were at a bar. Kiritsugu's idea. Evidently he needed a little bit to drink. Under normal circumstances Saber wouldn't say no to a glass of wine, as long as it was in the spirit of victory such as a toast. However, drowning one's sorrows, she believed, was beneath her.

Nevertheless, she pulled up a stool, ignoring all the looks she was receiving (her golden hair, like that of the crown she once wore, in combination with her petite figure didn't seem to belong in such a rough establishment. Yet she made up for her lack of stubble in her walk and in her conduct. She possessed more confidence than the burliest man in the room.)

A mug is slammed onto the bar before her, and at first she was tempted to reject the whisky. On second thought she reached for the handle and took a swig, watching Kiritsugu out the corner of her eye.

He puts his glass down and stares at her unimpressed.

Another swig. This time she finishes the drink and indicates for another one. The bartender hands her one reluctantly. "No, this won't do." Saber pointed toward an entire pitcher. "I want that."

"I'm afraid, lady, that if you intend to get alcohol poisoning, it's not going to be in my bar."

"Just do it."

He narrowed his eyes and did as she ordered. Something about her made him want to obey.

"What do you think you're doing?" Kiritsugu demanded.

"I'm going to teach you how to properly drink. Like a man. Think you can handle that?"

He throws down a twenty and storms out of the bar. Saber couldn't resist a smile, satisfied that she got under his skin. She raises the pitcher to her lips and rolls her eyes.

"Is he your husband?'

She frowned at the bartender's question. "Right now it certainly feels like it."