Rigsby spotted Van Pelt going for a walk with Marissa and hurried to catch up. The little girl – Slayer, he reminded himself – did look like a miniature Grace, with the same red hair, the same eyes and the same smile. Not that the girl had been smiling much, except at Jane, who had decided to entertain the younger Slayers with magic tricks while Cho and Rigsby had the speech about the origins of the world.

It had been a shock, to say the least, and Rigsby hadn't believed a word of it until one of the girls, looking no older than thirteen, had tied a crowbar in a knot, right in front of his eyes. And then Faith had untied it. Cho was still inside, trying to be logical about the whole thing and asking hundreds of questions. Apparently Kevin was thrilled to find someone interested in the theory of demonology.

Rigsby didn't care about any of that. He cared about the fact that Grace was throwing away her career to save her cousin when, as far as he could see, the cousin was far more likely to be saving all of them. He cared that she was going to ruin her life. He cared that he might never see her again. And until he sorted out this mess, so that Grace could come back to work and he could still see her every day, he didn't have the energy to care about any of the weird stuff.

Van Pelt noticed and waited for him to catch up. She smiled at him awkwardly and they both stood there, silent and embarrassed, until Marissa rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go see if there's any donuts left. You two, talk or something."

They were still silent when she left. "So, vampires, huh?" Rigsby managed, and got a smile out of Grace.

"I hate to crow, but I told Jane all of this stuff was real." They both started to laugh at the same moment. Grace's laughter died away. "I really screwed up, didn't I?"

"Lisbon's mad because she was worried about you. We all were." Rigsby frowned. "Why didn't you just call someone?"

"And say what? My cousin is a twelve year old, destiny chosen superhero and I'm nervous about leaving her in a house filled with other superheroes? That we didn't want to tell her parents the full truth, as they trust me to make the right decision for Marissa? You guys would have laughed me out of the agency and Lisbon would never have given me an extension on my leave. At least," she added with a frown, "she wouldn't have if she didn't already know about Slayers."

"Well, you could have just lied," he pointed out logically.

"She always knows when I lie. She's like Jane like that."

"Grace!" Exasperated, he caught hold of her shoulders. "You could have told me and I'd have covered for you. I'd have lied for you," he repeated quietly.

"Oh, Wayne," she said with a sigh. "I know. I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

He realised he was still holding on to her shoulders and dropped his hands, shoving them into his pockets instead, to stop himself reaching out and touching her again. "So, I guess we're all staying then. To fight a possible breakdown in reality."

"Yeah." She blushed. "Thanks."

He gave a one-shouldered shrug, as causal as he could make it. "We're a team. That's what teams do."

"I'd better go see if Marissa is OK."

"Yeah." He watched her walk back to the house before hitting himself on the forehead. "Idiot! Idiot! Oh, 'I'd lie for you, Grace'! Idiot! Just tell her 'I'd do anything for you'. Idiot!"

Faith knew research was never going to be her strong suit. She knew where her talents lay – fighting and killing. She left Dawn and Kevin to marshal the troops and get the younger Slayers to help out with the research, while she headed out to the large and airy gym, to work out some of her excess energy. She was going through a sequence of tai chi when she realised there was someone else in the gym with her. Patrick Jane was watching her with fascination.

Unable to resist, she stretched a little and slid into a perfect horizontal split, then straightened up, taking great care to be as obviously flirty as she could. When that appeared to have little effect, she walked over to him and leaned forward, giving him a direct view of her breasts. He smiled a little wider.

"Married," he pointed out, holding up his left hand to show the gold ring he always wore. "You're very beautiful, as you are well aware, but I'm taken."

"Fair enough," she allowed, grinning at the compliment. "Your wife must be pretty secure, to let you go tripping round the country with those two pretty agents."

The smile faltered and died and Faith wondered what she'd said wrong. "I hope she knows I love her," he said very softly. Then he cleared his throat and his smile came back. "You're the senior Slayer here, right? I've already met Buffy."

"B? Oh yeah, when Robin died. I guess that makes me senior here, when she's not about. Why? You wish she was here to save the day?" It came out a little bitterer than she had intended, but Faith didn't really care. She and Buffy had made their peace. It was only other people's reactions towards the world's oldest Slayer that really got to her now.

He only looked at her for a long moment. "It must be difficult. Always being second to Buffy. Always knowing you're just as good, but that people will still look to her first. And working with Xander can't be easy. He had a crush on Buffy when they were younger, probably still idolises her."

"How'd you know all that?" Defensive suddenly, Faith backed away, before reminding herself that she could break him in half without trying. She didn't need to back down to anyone.

He shrugged. "I pay attention. And no, I don't wish Buffy was here. I'm sure you can cope with whatever a breakdown in reality actually means. I'm just intrigued."

"By what?"

"Everyone treated Buffy like a general, following her lead on everything. That's easily explained. She's a natural leader; so are you. I just want to know why they treat you like an unexploded bomb."

"They still do, don't they?"

"What did you do? Something really bad, or just a little naughty?"

"Oh, I was bad. I was badder than you could ever imagine." She smiled wickedly at him. "But I don't think I should be the only one dishing out the secrets here. Show me yours and I'll show you mine."

"Show and tell later, Jane," Lisbon called out. "Xander wants a word with us."