He'd upset Fred, that much was clear. But did he really have to explain to her his reasoning? As soon as she set the mug down, he straightened and dispensed with his as well, putting his hands on his hips and watching her round on him.

"Yes. Exactly that. Because we spent a night suspended on desk chairs trying not to get our heads cut off while Angel fought with an old enemy. I couldn't do a damned thing. None of us could. I'm tired of feeling helpless. Of wondering which one of us will be the next target. We've all got bulls eyes on our backs right now and I don't-"

He brings himself up short. He's straying too close to emotions he feels he has no right to reveal.

"Of course I want you here, Fred. You're a valuable part of the team. But you have to admit that things have been getting worse. There have been more attacks. More close calls. Cordelia died, for god's sake. Would it be so bad to get away from it all for a while? I just want you to be safe. Or at least safer than we are right now."