Blink.

"Wouldn't it be nice if you could tell me what it is."

She opens her mouth again, just a little, but nothing comes out.

"As much fun as this little interlude has been, do feel free to give the answer away."

"Well, that's annoying."

"And will it solve this irritating puzzle if I permit you to do whatever you like?"

"Yeah," she breathes, suddenly relaxing and starting to cry.

Promise does not intrude on his tea-ing. She just cries softly.

"I - I - had a bad master. Went through a tear. Now I can't do any sorcery I suppose and I don't know if I'll ever see my tree again but at least he doesn't have me anymore."

"Well. Welcome to Sunnydale. Is this orders business a property of you in particular, or of the entire place you came from?"

"Of fairies."

"Fairies, that's a new one."

"There's lots of kinds. I've met a mortal once before, but it was years ago."

"Do I qualify as mortal in this context?"

"Unless you're missing your wings, yes."

"That I am flightless is not in dispute."

"Then yes, you're a mortal. As far as I know it's just fairies and mortals. Are you an unusual kind of mortal?"

"I think we may have to throw out the term 'mortal' as hopelessly ambiguous. I am not human, though I once was. I am the most common kind of nonhuman on this planet. Relative to humans I am also significantly less mortal, a distinction that many other kinds of nonhuman cannot boast."

"Oh. I didn't know mortals came in nonhuman. But if you can die you're a mortal."