The pies were delicious, as expected, and Faith was already on her third one when she felt a slight nudge in her side. Looking around in bafflement, she saw Miyoko grinning widely and indicating slightly with her head in Pauline's direction. Blinking a few times, she saw Pauline trying to keep from laughing.

"Exhibit A: a Vampire Slayer with a healthy appetite. Has a tendency to forget her surroundings while in the middle of taking care of the hungries," Pauline chuckled. "Faith, I've been trying to get your attention three times already, but you were just oblivious to everything around you."

"What?" Faith asked wide-eyed with her mouth full of pie. By her side Miyoko snickered.

Pauline sighed but gave Faith a fond smile. "With Miyoko here I thought it would be nice if you could tell us more about yourself, how you came to be here, how you like it here – just your own impressions."

Swallowing the rest of the pie still in her mouth, Faith furrowed her brow. "I dunno," she shrugged looking down at her plate. "I'm still not so good at this kind of stuff, yunno, talking 'bout myself and all."

"Faith, we are all your friends here," Pauline reminded her gently. "No one will judge you or think any less of you, whatever you say or decide not to say."

"Hear, hear," Mr Hogan proclaimed and raised his glass.

"I'll get the ice cream," his wife announced, looking around and seeing the empty plates in front of everyone.

"Please, Faith," Miyoko requested and touched Faith's hand. "I'd love to hear more about you."

Faith tried to relax and get the thought of being interrogated out of her head. She was very sensitive to moods around her, especially in social situations like this, and all she could feel was warmth, honest curiosity and relaxation.

"Ok," she nodded finally and looked around the table. "There's some early stuff I don't feel so good about, so I'm not gonna go into that." ('I should beat you within an inch of your life, whore!')

She managed to keep her face straight as these words echoed in her mind. Miyoko must have felt something though, as she felt the woman slightly squeeze her hand encouragingly. Faith nodded to herself and started.

"A year or so ago my Watcher was killed by this ancient vampire named Kakistos in Boston where I lived. I fled from him to Sunnydale, California where Diane had said another Slayer like me lived. Buffy, she's my sister Slayer, helped me take care of him. Buffy has this group of friends around her – they call themselves the Scoobies – and I sort of got to know them. We were not friends at first but they slowly accepted me. There's Willow, she's a Witch..."

"Willow Rosenberg?" Patricia interrupted her in astonishment.

"Yeah," Faith answered hesitantly, not understanding the young Witch's excitement.

"You never mentioned her before," Patricia told her.

"What? I gotta have," Faith frowned. "Anyway, what's the big deal about Red?"

"No, you haven't," Pauline interjected. "I don't mean this as an admonishment, but you really don't mention you friends, except for Buffy and Rowan by name – and even them only in passing when you're not paying attention."

"Who's Rowan?" Miyoko asked.

"Tell me about Willow," Patricia prompted.

"Yo, guys!" Faith raised her hands. "One at a time." Inwardly she sighed. Rowan was much better at all this exposition stuff. "Ok, what about Red, Trish?"

"Red?"

"Faith gives everyone she likes nicknames," Pauline smirked.

"Oh, God," Faith groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Someone, please just kill me now."

"So, what's yours then," Miyoko asked Pauline.

Pauline took a spoonful of ice cream before answering. "I've heard her occasionally mutter about someone apparently known as 'Dr Kiwi'."

Faith was surprised to hear unrestricted laughter all around her. It wasn't mocking or anything; it sounded like everyone had heard the funniest thing in the world.

"I'm 'Dundee'," Faith heard Mr Hogan say proudly.

"But he's Aussie," Miyoko objected.

"So what?" Mr Hogan shrugged. "It's the idea that counts."

"What about Trang?"

"'Switchboard'," Trang muttered and, as a perfect punchline to a joke, her mobile started vibrating on the table. Turning to a bright shade of red, the Vietnamese woman excused herself and all but ran outside to the sound of hysterical laughter following her.

"Have you got one for me, yet?" Miyoko asked curiously after wiping her eyes.

"The jury is still out on that one, Cat-Hands," Faith grinned. She was feeling fully relaxed now.

"Neko-te," Miyoko smiled. "Very good, Sureiyā-san."

"Hey, what about my question about Willow?" Patricia cut in.

"What do you want to know about Red?" Faith asked.

"Did she really restore Angelus his soul?"

"Where did you hear about that?" Faith asked, totally astounded.

"I'm in touch with various Covens in Europe. There were some rumours floating around a year ago. I asked Althenea Moncreiff of the Devon Coven in England but all she could say was that it was all circumstantial at best. So?"

"Yeah, she did," Faith answered. "Right before B... that's Buffy, sent him to a hell dimension. B had to do that to close a portal Angelus had opened. Angel's back now, though. He helped us with an Apocalypse just before I got here. He's currently in Los Angeles, I think."

"Wow... that's wow," Patricia whispered in awe.

"I think we're jumping back and forth in the story. Faith, please continue."

"Who's Rowan?" Miyoko muttered almost inaudibly.

"So, besides Willow there's Xander," Faith continued. "He's just a normal guy but some magical accident a few years ago gave him lots of military knowledge, so he's really good like in strategy and stuff. Then there's Giles, he's Buffy's Watcher. He was mine too for a while until the Council sent a new one, Gwen Post. She is... was a bitch; I called her the Bitcher. When I got to Sunnydale, I used to live in this roach-infested motel for a while but she got us adjoined apartments soon after her arrival. We didn't get along, like at all at first, but still, she was my Watcher. She used to make me eat dinner with her a few times a week, fu... damn stiff and awkward. All the time just business – training, patrol schedules, demon quizzes, how Spartan-living built character. Couldn't really say no. I ate at Buffy's a few times a week; her mom is awesome. Then, last year around mid-November..." ('Come back to me, Sunray.')

"Last year around mid-November this guy came to Sunnydale." She couldn't keep the smile away from her voice as her thoughts turned to Rowan. "He's... um, a demon, really. Not evil, belongs to some ancient race called the Lehaïr."

"Rowan," Miyoko muttered again.

"Yeah, how did you guess?" Faith blinked.

"It wasn't hard. Please, go on."

"So, Bright Eyes... erm, Rowan, did some magic – not real magic – and 'BAM!', he was a Scooby. Everyone, except Gwen, accepted him just like that."

"How did he manage to do that?" Miyoko asked. "I'd have thought Slayers – you and Buffy – would be wary about having a demon around."

"Well, Buffy used to boin..., eh... date Angel, Willow's boyfriend was a werewolf and Xander went to the Senior prom with an ex-vengeance demon, so..."

"Masaka," Miyoko whispered, slack-jawed. The others were quiet as well. This was something Faith had not mentioned before.

"Yeah, masaka," Faith nodded. "So, yeah, ummm... it didn't hurt Bright Eye's case that he's... uh, quite good-looking and a pretty good fighter." Then it hit her. "He said he used to live in New Zealand!"

"Really, when?" Pauline asked. All the others were dead silent.

"I think he said it was some 26,500 years ago," Faith frowned. Something was not right here. "He's not really that old, though. There was an Apocalypse which he and his companions stopped, and he was thrown into some timeless place. That's where he came from to Sunnydale."

"26,500 years ago, here in New Zealand?" Pauline asked in a tight voice.

"I guess..."

"Faith, 26,500 years ago the Taupo Volcano erupted in the world's most recent super-eruption, destroying everything in what is now New Zealand. It's called the 'Oruanui eruption', and Lake Taupo partly fills the caldera left behind."

"No... no...," Faith shook her head. It was suddenly difficult to see and breathe. "No, the lake... it's huge... a volcano... no, they just spew out some lava."

"Some do," Pauline nodded. "Faith, listen. In 1980 the well-documented eruption of Mount St. Helens ejected maybe a quarter of a cubic mile of material. The Oruanui eruption was more than 1000 times as powerful. It was, as you said, Apocalyptic."

"No... he... the Sealing... it's really real." She jumped to her feet.

"Faith..."

"No," she shook her head. "I gotta get out of here."

As she rushed out through the patio doors, she collided with someone who was standing just outside the doors.

"Whoa, where's the fire, love?"

"Whistler?"

Gwen woke up slowly to a warm feeling. Opening her eyes, she found herself totally wrapped around the still sleeping Rowan. He was lying on his back with his left arm over his head, bent at the elbow, half-facing her. Seizing the perhaps unique opportunity, she silently watched him in fascination at a close distance. Velvety, brown skin, like coffee or chocolate, with a few scars marring the otherwise smooth surface of his arms and torso. Hairless below the eye level with well-defined muscles under the brown skin. Pretty ears, a beautiful nose and eyelashes to die for. Gwen knew it would be very easy to fall in love with him, but that was not the deal. What they had was maybe a 'friends with benefits' kind of agreement and it would never advance beyond that. But she was more than happy to have Rowan as a friend – she didn't have too many of those – and just maybe have him for herself for a brief amount of time.

Naturally, Gwen didn't know much about the Lehaïr and their ancient society's norms but from what she had seen and experienced, they didn't seem too strict about who they slept with. Rowan had told them their numbers were always small. They also lived for a, well... a very long time and apparently new births were a rare occurrence among them. Maybe something like polyamory was just a natural state of affairs to them and qualities like jealousy and possession were unknown concepts. But he and Faith apparently had something deeper between them. Kindred spirits? Soul mates? She wasn't certain, but knowing that the Slayer spirit was of demonic origin, maybe they just connected on a deeper level than was possible between him and a normal human with just a soul inside.

While she watched, Rowan opened his eyes and smiled at her. She smiled back and felt her heart flutter briefly. If this was something her Slayer would be waking up to every day in the future, she was truly the luckiest girl in the world.

"Naschemon tigrinja," Rowan greeted her and yawned.

"I guess that means 'good morning'," Gwen yawned herself.

"It does," Rowan nodded and turned himself so that he was facing Gwen. "But it depends on the rising and falling tones. Inverted, it could mean 'midnight is where the day begins'. If you were to just say it flat, it would mean something like 'a weak fart does not rip the arse'."

"You just made that up," Gwen laughed and slapped Rowan's chest.

"Well, yes, partly," Rowan admitted. "You really cannot say it flat like that, at least I can't."

"Well, I guess that demonstrates the complexity of the Old Tongue perfectly," Gwen sighed. "A weak fart, indeed." That reminded her. "Speaking of weak farts, what did Quentin want to see you and Wesley about the other day?"

"Council politics," Rowan shrugged and laid his hand on Gwen's hip. He started idly sliding it up and down the dip of her waist. "The situation with the elder Wyndam-Pryce and his faction is very delicate and it seems my presence here has created an unexpected escalation in hostilities."

"I noticed," Gwen nodded and moved a little bit closer to Rowan.

"So, he wants to defuse the situation somewhat. He asked me to go to Scotland."

Gwen blinked and froze. "Ballikinrain?"

"Yes. It seems the Watchers-in-training in their final year at the Academy could use some less than controlled circumstances as it comes to facing 'the creatures of the night'. He asked if I could go there and show them what 'facing a real demon' can be about."

Gwen smiled at the thought. "Maybe I could...?"

"Wes is coming with me," Rowan interrupted her gently.

"What, why?" Gwen asked in surprise, unable to keep the slight hurt away from her voice.

"I cannot take you, Gwen. You're too valuable here in the inner circle to just suddenly whisk away to Scotland. It would cause more suspicion. Sending Wes away is a smart move. It can be seen as a punishment, a temporary expulsion, to those who know what went on in the meeting. The same can be said about me, too. Travers needs to show a strong hand to make it clear he still controls the Council. Maybe this will make a difference about what I told you yesterday at the restaurant. On the other hand, Wes will be far away from his father's influence. And, yes, he is very influenceable by his father if sufficient pressure is applied."

That last part was not the whole truth, but since it didn't affect Gwen directly, he didn't feel the need to elaborate further.

Gwen could hear the wisdom in his words. She had once commented about all the inexplicable interconnections between events and now, with Faith connected to the Powers, who knew what was quietly unfolding within the canvas into which their destinies were woven?

"When?" she asked.

"Tonight. Travers has arranged for a private jet to pick me and Wes up at Biggin Hill. It will take us to Glasgow."

Gwen sighed. So soon. "I hope you weren't about to leave without a proper goodbye," she winked at Rowan secretively.

"Of course not. Get up here."

"Where?"

"On top of me," Rowan answered and rolled over to his back. He pointed at his mouth. "Park it here. I want to taste you."

"Oh, God," Gwen breathed as she flung her leg over Rowan's chest and slowly crawled upwards toward his face. This was something she had never done before, and she was already dripping with arousal. "Sometimes I wonder why I let you order me around."

"A few inches more and you'll know soon enough."

"Fine, but I doubt it." She tried to sound nonchalant, but her grip of the headboard spoke a different language.

Five seconds later Gwen was fully convinced.