"Faith. You're early." Giles stood back to let the slayer in. "It's good to see you." When she crossed the threshold, he smiled. "You look lovely, I guess you enjoyed your time with Cordelia and Willow."

"It was different." Faith looked in the mirror on Giles' hall tree. She couldn't get used to the new look. Her hair curled neatly in layers around her face. It was still long enough to pull into a ponytail, but right now, it hung in loose waves around her shoulders. Cordelia had taken her to a makeup counter at the department store, and she was now wearing makeup for the first time ever. She wore an emerald green silk blouse and some black linen slacks Cordy had talked her into. She hung her leather backpack on the hook. A pair of new Doc Maartens dangled from the bottom. "Patrolling clothes in there."

Faith noticed the dining room table piled high with books. Giles had clearly been working. "I guess you're not ready for me yet." Despite the scene in the dining area, she could smell delicious scents wafting from the kitchen.

"I'm just doing some light reading. Please make yourself at home. I'll have these picked up shortly. Let me check the food." Giles went to the kitchen, where he puttered, pulling the dinner out of the oven and throwing salads in bowls.

Faith looked over the books on the tables. "Watcher's diaries, huh? Whose are you reading?"

"Buffy's."

Faith squinted over the diaries. "Why are you reading your own diaries?"

"Not mine, her first watcher, Merrick."

"Buffy had another watcher? I didn't know that."

"He died about five months after she was called." Giles walked to the table, closing up the diaries and books, putting them away on a high shelf. "Buffy brought them by yesterday. It was believed his diaries were lost."

"Oh." Faith sat at a seat at the table, tucking one foot underneath her. "Took her long enough to tell you. Sarah didn't even keep diaries for me, I'm not a real slayer."

Giles looked at her in alarm. "What do you mean, not a real slayer?"

"Well, the stuffy watcher sorts weren't too happy that the street rat got called, so they had some doctor come by. I woke up, and I wasn't the slayer anymore, some thirteen year old girl in Paris was."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"According to Sarah, he gave me some drug to stop my heart, then restarted it once the new slayer was activated. I know my chest hurt like hell for three days. Then they started sending us all over to get rid of vamps. I've been to twenty cities, at least."

Giles was incredulous. "You're not serious."

Faith shrugged. "Believe what you want."

"So what happened to Sarah?"

"She died." Faith stood up from the table and walked away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"It's very hard when a slayer loses her watcher." Giles started to go to her, but the expression on Faith's face stopped him. "Buffy never spoke of her first watcher. Not until recently, anyway. And I don't think she remembers what happened anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"She ran away over the summer, and when she came back, she had some amnesia. Honestly, I don't think she even remembers me."

"That's pretty rough." Faith kicked off her slippers, revealing neatly painted toenails. "I wish I could forget. But I don't want to. I'm hungry, is the food ready?"

"Well, if you want to talk, I'm here to listen. Sarah was a friend of mine for a long time. I was quite fond of her."

Something in Giles' voice caused Faith to look askance at him. "You're the guy that bagged Sarah?"

"Bagged?"

"You're Jessie's dad. You know, Sarah's daughter." Faith teased. "The gorgeous long-legged redhead with all the curls and the green eyes, well, just like yours." Faith studied his face. "Huh. J.'s got your cheekbones, too."

"Sarah didn't have any children."

Faith frowned, but nodded. "If you say so." Turning her back on Giles, she clapped her hands together. "Let's eat. I'm hungry." Faith and Giles sat at the table, eating in relative quiet, occasionally making small talk.

"Are you still staying with Cordelia?"

"One more night. I'm moving in with B. and Oz. The girl has a monster house over on Crawford Street. I got the pick of five bedrooms. Course, the one I did pick, I might have to share. It's the only one whose owner might come back. But two beds, who cares? It's gorgeous. Huge bathroom, sunken tub."

"Really?" Giles perked up from his meal, surprised.

"Yup. Already paid her two months rent from my takings yesterday. Move in tomorrow. Course that's all I have, plus the things I picked up today." Faith pointed at the bag hanging on the hall tree.

"Did Spike say you could move in?"

"It's B.'s house, what difference does it make what Will thinks? He didn't seem to mind."

"It's Spike's house, I thought."

"No. B's ex left it to her when he died." Faith shrugged. "Guy must have been loaded. The place is enormous. B. didn't want me to pay rent, said it was fitting that another slayer should live there, but I don't like owing anybody anything." Faith pushed the last bits of food on her plate around, clearly finished eating. Leaning back in her chair, Faith gave Giles a wry grin. "So tell me, is this place crawling with watchers or what? What's the deal?"

"I'm the only watcher here."

"Riiight. And that's why I've sensed no less than six in the two days I've been in town."

"Six?" Giles sat upright in his chair. "You can sense Watchers? That's an extremely rare skill among slayers."

"Well, I not really a slayer, remember? So the rules don't apply to me." Faith tossed her napkin onto her plate. "Let's see, there's you. That's one. There's Will and Willow. Willow makes sense since she's your student, right? That makes three. There's the fellow who runs the Magic Box, and a black fellow who we ran into at the mall. He's a friend of Oz and B. I think he's staying at the mansion until he gets a house. And the guy who bought me coffee at the funky little coffee shop downtown and gave me a lift here. He got a page and couldn't clear out fast enough. But it was nice of him to give me a ride. So six so far. How am I doing?"

"I'm afraid your watcher sense is a bit faulty. Willow's not a watcher, or a watcher-in-training. She's just an ordinary girl with some magic. And to my knowledge, there are no other watchers in town."

"Man, watcher, you're shields are up so tight you can't see what's right in front of your face. Red's a freaking Watcher blowtorch. You need to teach her about shielding. She about knocks me over. Don't know how B. can stand it. Maybe that's why Piano-man is hanging around. He told Red that he could help her a bit but that she was mostly out of his league. Something about passing her on to a watcher more appropriate to her talents."

"Really?" Giles was intrigued, but surprised that there was another watcher in town, and even more surprised that he was open about it. "What of the fellow at the coffee shop?"

"Another Brit, about your age. A freaking inferno, like Red, but with black magic. He must be black ops. Name was, what was it? Evan, Aaron?"

"Ethan," Giles ground out the name between clenched teeth, his eyes flashing with anger. "Ethan Rayne. Trouble. Not Council."

"He was nice. Bought my coffee, gave me a ride here. Told me there's a price on my head, I shouldn't patrol without backup. Course, I already knew that, so it's not really news."

"There's a price on your head?"

"Kakistos doesn't like it when nasty little sort-of slayers stake his minions and get away."

"Kakistos?" Giles wracked his brain for the vampire in question, but could only come up with a vague memory of a super-ancient Greek demon. "Where has the Council been sending you?"

"Oh, he was in New Orleans visiting the master of the city. I was there to kill her, not Kakistos, didn't know he was around. He was still working out the protocol to get into the city. Those vamps do more political posturing than you would believe." Faith flopped on the couch. "You got a telly in this dump?" Feigning nonchalance, she reached for a motorcycle magazine Giles had left on the coffee table.

"You killed the master of New Orleans?" Giles was sidetracked from Ethan's presence by this knowledge.

"Theresa? Yup, she's dust. Not much of a fight. I guess Kakistos is master of New Orleans now. Maybe he should send me thank you note instead of trying to kill me."

Giles sank into the couch across from Faith, a look of utter horror on his face. "She's killed no less than a dozen slayers. Theresa is one of the most vicious vampires known to man."

"Was, being the operative word. Like I said, dust." Faith flipped through the magazine, admiring the chrome and leather of the cycles. "Hey, that's B.'s Harley." She held up a page.

Giles noticed the bike on the page, nodding. He'd recognized Buffy's bike, too; it was the reason the particular magazine was out in his living room; the rest of his subscription was hidden away in the guest bedroom as if they were Playboy's. "So what sent Ethan scurrying off?"

"Oh, what?" Faith looked up from the article. Apparently, she found the text intriguing enough to read it. "Oh, Ethan. Said B. paged him, some sort of trouble at her house."

"And you didn't go with him?"

"Nah, he said he could handle it. Hey, Jeeves, what are you doing?" Giles grabbed Fath by the elbow and steered her out the door and into his Citroen.