[Bella! I found out what you were following,] says Giles. [They're called Defenders. The knowledge required to make them was supposedly lost in the library at Alexandria, but apparently rumours of its demise were greatly exaggerated.]

[Okay, how do I kill them, and what day is it?]

[Tuesday. They will apparently dissolve on contact with a grain of sand from a particular mystical fountain. Sources disagree on which one, but all three candidates were destroyed upwards of six hundred years ago. Sherlock used a square and that worked fine.]

[...I don't suppose we can use a square to conjure this sand? I bet Sherlock tried that and it didn't work.]

[Sherlock tried that,] he confirms. [It didn't work.]

[Dammit. Okay. What sort of quantity are they likely to come in? I don't suppose either of you have actually had a look at the Hellmouth to see if I was right about there being lots?]

[They are not congregating at the Hellmouth, no. I checked. Sherlock has been guarding the body of the original by night and so far no one has shown up to claim it. But Defenders don't appear spontaneously, or act of their own will; someone created that one and told it to go wherever it was going.]

[Grand. That all we know?]

[Essentially, yes. Sherlock also reports that attempt to set the dead Defender on fire were unsuccessful.]

[I can fire-wand underwater, I might be able to fire-wand these things, it's still worth a try - but yeah, that's not encouraging.]

[There's nothing in the records about fire either way.]

[Has anything else unusual or demonic cropped up while I've been recovering from - what happened exactly? I remember jumping on it, it's a blur after that.]

[It threw you on the ground and stepped on you. Apparently that's all it took. And no, it's been quiet.]

[It stepped on me. Well, that's embarrassing.]

[You could say that, yes.]

[I do appreciate that if you are giggling right now you're at least polite enough not to brainphone it.]

[Not even slightly,] he assures her.

[The doctors are saying they want to keep me for observation for a week. I think I can convince Charlie to turn that into a day, or two, and then I can start combing the town for where it came from.]

[Good luck,] he sighs.

[Something wrong? Besides whoever's sending a Defender charging through Sunnydale?]

[You're in the hospital and I'm worried.]

[I'll be fine, it's just a headache at this point,] Bella says. [But thanks.]

Giles ahems uncertainly.

[Did you set out to find the Slayer without expecting her to land in the hospital at least now and then? I'm surprised I've made it this long.]

[Yes, actually. Slayers don't often make use of contemporary medical services.]