"She did indeed restore my soul," says Miles. "And apparently doing big spells gets you high! Who knew?"

"I did, and it's terrible, and I'm not getting out of bed and you can't make me. But I put his soul back and I did a much better job than the curse thing, it'll stay now."

"Cool," says Zeke. "Can I borrow him for a while to celebrate? We'll bring you back some blood from the butcher."

Uh.

"..... sure," she says, after a noticeable pause. "Yeah, go ahead. Thanks, I'll appreciate the blood, we uh. Kind of used up a lot of my stores."

"You got it!"

"Do I get any say in the nature of this celebration?" he asks as he follows Zeke out and down the path.

"Bet I can guess what you're going to pick."

"Maybe I want to go to a poetry recital, how about that?"

"And where are we gonna find one of those?"

"I'm a resourceful man."

"Wow, you definitely have your smile back."

Is she uncomfortable with this? It's kind of hard to tell, she did just wake up. And it's not like she has any sort of, of claim on him. She doesn't. She's aware of that. It's completely ridiculous to feel anything weird about this at all. And yet: feelings.

She buries her head into her pillow and tries to figure out what she would even want from a hypothetical relationship that doesn't actually exist right now. And bemoan the lack of vampire Tylenol. She thinks she has a post-magic-high headache coming on.

After a little while, she recalls the part where her sister is probably going to want to kill her the moment she realizes that she's got her soul back. She really doesn't have time for relationship drama. She needs to prepare.

She crawls her way out of bed by sheer force of will, has a mug of blood (the last in her fridge) and then figures out a list of things she'll need to protect herself from the most terrifying vampire in the world. It's a respectable list. Luckily a lot of the things she was saving for are no longer relevant, she can sink some money into 'not dying.' She writes a note explaining that she's going shopping, leaves it pinned on the door with a magnet from her fridge, and then goes to shop.

The store itself is small and a bit cramped, but it's a good one, and she knows it well. She's of course recognized by the cashier, and replies with a sedate wave. Then she starts systematically working her way through the aisles, picking up things as she goes with careful efficiency. She probably looks about as anti-social as she feels, with her hair a mess and the 'don't talk to me' look on her face, but she'll optimize her path through the store to avoid people anyway. Because, ugh. People.

People seem to be picking up on her mood really clearly! Absolutely no one bothers her. It's a miracle.

She is so pleased. There wasn't likely to be many people here anyway, but - yeah, she doesn't want to people right now.

She doesn't get everything on her list, because not everything on her list is here, but that's okay. It's better than nothing.

... She will put in orders for things, though. This list, please, she can pre-pay if necessary - oh, pay when she picks it up, that's fine. Excellent. Thank you.

And then she's free to go home and crawl under her covers again, excellent.

As Yvette leaves the shop, she passes a girl browsing the herbs. Looks to be in her late teens, human, wearing jeans and a jacket.

The girl hesitates for a few seconds, then follows Yvette out. "Hey," she calls quietly. "I couldn't help overhearing the on-the-run-from-the-mafia shopping list, and my aunt's big into protective magic, do you want an introduction?"

Yvette peers at her, frowning slightly.

"... I might, yes," she hedges, cautiously.

She catches up to a more conversational distance.

"Sorry for following you out of the store like a weirdo, but - it really sounded like you could use some help. I try not to let those opportunities pass me by."

Okay, but is she the Slayer. She's the right age for it...

"Fair enough. It's fine. Do you tend to help a lot of people?"

"When I can."

"So are you the Slayer or...?"

"Yes, and I've been keeping an eye on your friend Zeke because he tried to eat me last week and seemed unusually responsive to the suggestion that he stop doing that, so I noticed that he'd turned a guy and then I noticed that they went to you to get the guy's soul back and now here you are needing a lot of protection in a hurry and under the circumstances I would really genuinely prefer you not die."

Well that's remarkably straightforward and honest, how wonderful.

"Yeah I'd really prefer me to not die, too," she agrees, blinking. "... I'd offer to invite you home to talk but Zeke wouldn't appreciate walking in on you in my living room."

"I bet I could talk him down, but fair point. My place? Where you will also find the aforementioned aunt."

She considers.

... The Slayer did just admit that she knows where she lives, if she wanted to set up a trap she could manage it in a less obvious fashion than this.

"All right," she agrees, a little tentatively. "But let me drop off my purchases at home first?" And write a note.

"Yeah, no problem."