He kept the distance at first, watching her struggle along, waiting to see whether or not she would have the strength to flee once more - whether not she would recognize his presence.

(Had she learned her lesson?)

When it became apparent she did not, he gave up the pretense, his stride lengthening and eating up the ground between them.

He was on her in a heartbeat, past and present blurring as a thick, muscled arm roped around her neck, squeezing across her throat as she was hauled off her feet and clamped in the vise of his arms.

"Barbara," his voice as calm and cool as ever, not the least bit fatigued. As if he'd just casually strolled up her. "How nice to see you again."