With her eyes closed she can almost, almost see him -- eyes black (because that's the only way she remembers him ever having been angry) and still so perfect even furious with her.

"Yes?"

It wasn't even a whisper - her lips barely shaped the question for fear of breaking the illusion. His voice had been so clear this time, as though the strength of her memory were directly proportional to the amount of danger she was in.

It was going to be hard to top this one. Maybe this will be the last time -- all the more reason to make it good enough to count.