"You're not done with your training!" her mother objects. "You can't just leave."
"Maybe not with my Watcher training, but I'm done with nursing school," Emma says patiently. "I have a job lined up in California. Phil also has a job lined up in California. We've lived near you for years; Phil wants to be near his family now."
"So this is his idea, is it?" her father asks darkly.
"No," Emma says, frustrated. "We decided. He wants to be closer to home. I can get better jobs there. I'm going to be an ER nurse, if we stayed on this coast I'd have to wait years for that. We're moving."
The argument continues for hours, but Emma's parents can't win this one. She's broken her lease, they've found a place in California, she's signed the paperwork for her new job. This is not something she can be talked out of, for once. There's more Watchers than Slayers, and there are never enough nurses. She's getting out of this weird, insular, magic-driven life and going to actually help people.
Two weeks later, she starts work at Sunnydale Hospital.
There are rather a lot of injuries, here.
"I decided 'it's not as bad as it looks' was just barely less flimsy than 'oh, the pain, the pain, but let me go tomorrow at the latest pretty please'."
Emma laughs. "We wouldn't keep you overnight for this kind of thing necessarily, you'd just get stronger drugs. And, if you hadn't gotten me, you'd probably have been stuck with that rabies shot."
"What, do some non-mammals carry rabies? I was going to go with 'somebody's escaped pet alligator' if pressed on the point."
"You know, we haven't been here long, and yet somehow it does not surprise me that 'escaped pet alligator' is a reasonable explanation here?"
"Yes. Am I keeping you from more medically urgent situations and/or clocking out? I don't know how much time you have for small talk blocked into your day and you did sound like you wanted to go home."
"Clocking out. Nothing else urgent's come up, thankfully." She starts to pack up her things. "Good night, Isabella. Stay safe."
"Bella, please. And I'll do what I can. Can I get you to sign a note saying I did not sneak out, I am released good and proper?"
"Of course, did you need a copy...?" If her father's that suspicious, he could just call and check, Bella's a minor still, but he seemed reasonably trusting. At least in the minute or so Emma encountered him.
"If it's not too much trouble. He'll probably believe me, but I'd rather accumulate credit than spend it, considering."
"...you're lucky to have your dad," she adds. "It's nice that he believes in you."
Is that wistfulness? Maybe a little.
"He probably wouldn't if he hadn't - seen things." She shrugs. "But yeah. I'm lucky." She puts the paperwork in her bag, along with Emma's phone number.