our hospital facilities are nationally acclaimed

[cross_and_bow]

Bella wakes up a day and a half later, a medical miracle with a splitting headache. (Between what she knows about her own construction and what the doctors mutter to the nurses, the demon stepped on her, it broke her spine, she passed out from pain and shock, and she could have easily died if she weren't blessed or the Slayer - both were probably called for.)

[Sherlock? Giles?] she attempts, when she's solicited and received pain medication.

Comments

[cross_and_bow]

[I don't suppose we know why that kind of sand dissolves them.]

[pythbox]

[There's at least one separate theory for each of the candidate fountains. Demonologists with too much time on their hands have argued over it at length. I personally don't think there's enough information to support any of their conclusions.]

[cross_and_bow]

[Is there enough information to suggest any experiments on how to duplicate the effect? If there are - Powers forfend - a bunch of these, I'd rather not be down a hundred squares by the time I find the source of the problem if I could solve it with sand that was the right color or had the right ratio of diatoms in it.]

[pythbox]

[About the only thing we're sure of is that it was a magical property,] he says apologetically.

[cross_and_bow]

[Well, that's irritating.] She sighs. [I think Sherlock's asleep now, do you know if he's been able to get in to visit me or not? I don't know what visiting hours are like here.]

[pythbox]

[He hasn't mentioned anything.]

[cross_and_bow]

[I'll ask Jarvis. Thanks for the updates.]

[Hey, Jarvis, I'm awake.]

[poeticterms]

[Pleased to hear it,] says Jarvis.

[cross_and_bow]

[Do you know if Sherlock's been able to convince the hospital to let him visit at night or if he's tried or what?]

[poeticterms]

[He's been in to see you. I believe he skipped the wheedling step.]

[cross_and_bow]

[Ha. Should've guessed. They're talking about keeping me for a week, but the way I heal I'm betting I can get that down to a day or two. If I'm asleep when he wakes up will you let him know for me?]

[poeticterms]

[Of course.]

[cross_and_bow]

[Thanks. I'm gonna try napping off this headache now.]

[poeticterms]

[Good luck.]

[cross_and_bow]

Bella successfully sleeps. She wakes some three hours later, past dark, feeling significantly better.

[eversomuchfun]

She has a visitor!

[cross_and_bow]

"Hey you."

[eversomuchfun]

"Good morning. Feeling better?"

[cross_and_bow]

"Morning?" scoffs Bella. "But yeah, much better, I don't even have that headache anymore. It's probably even safe to hug me." She holds out her arms.

[eversomuchfun]

Ooh. Hug!

[cross_and_bow]

Indeed. "So we may need magic sand that we can't get, and we have a distinctly finite square supply but those work in a pinch, and if there are more Defenders running around we don't know where?" she says.

[eversomuchfun]

"Yes indeed."

[cross_and_bow]

"Isn't that just grand. Well, they'll let me out of here sooner or later and I can help you look."

[eversomuchfun]

"An excellent plan."

[cross_and_bow]

She and the hospital wind up splitting the difference: she's free to go three days later. (She has Sherlock bring her demonology books and Charlie bring her laptop and Jarvis talk to her about Sunshine-type magic; she's annoyed by the confinement but not bored.) It's morning when she's free, so she can't go celebrate with Sherlock, but she can tie on her string of squares - the doctors interpreted it as a decorative belt and it's with the other clothes she was admitted in; thank goodness Shell Bell's coins are so pretty - and get started crisscrossing town in her truck, seeking Defenders or anything else out of the ordinary.

Sunnydale's got a good-sized population, but it's not that huge geographically, and it's surrounded by greenbelt on all sides; it doesn't take her even all day long to case the entire joint, at least insofar as she can from the cab of the pickup, and she finds nothing. She starts circling around the outskirts of town.

Someone's orange orchard has some unusual visitors today. They're breaking the beehives at the edges of the tree rows, heedless of the angry bees thereby stirred up. (Bella rolls up her window.)

[Giles, I found - five, no, six, Defenders, in an orange grove just outside town, running around destroying beehives. Are you as confused as I am?] she asks, puttering along on the shoulder of the road watching the goings-on.