See Part 1 for disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: Once again, I can't thank you all enough for the great comments. It's fantastic to see that people are sticking with this rather unusual pairing and giving them a chance. As for the many questions everyone's asked, I promise they'll be answered. Just not yet. evil grin A big hug and huge thanks go again to Lynette for her wonderful, and extremely fast, abilities as beta. As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

Part 3
Her cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much. Jack's sense of humor was sarcastic, witty and more often than not self-directed. His descriptions of his team had surprised more laughter out of her than anything in the past ten years combined.

She was still grinning slightly as they walked up the drive towards the front door. The house, now that she could be bothered to look, was nothing special, yet it had a character that invited a body to pull up a chair and make herself at home. She liked the unpretentious, straightforward landscaping and the lack of frills in its simple lines. Looking over to the man at her side as he unlocked the door, her smile dimmed. Was she really thinking about the house or its owner?

Shaking off the atypical thoughts, she followed Jack into the entryway, the one she'd surprised him in just that morning. She watched silently as he tossed the keys onto a small table next to the door and kept moving through the walkthrough into the kitchen. Now that they were there, she had no idea what to do next. As much as every piece of physical evidence screamed it, this wasn't her home. She didn't know where the towels were hidden, she didn't know if there was both coffee and tea in the house. She didn't even know how many bedrooms there were.

It was suddenly imperative to have something, anything familiar. Something that was hers. She was choking on things she didn't know, couldn't remember. She couldn't even talk about her suspicions with the man she'd chosen to spend her life with! The words escaped without any thought. "Jack, do you mind if I use the phone?"

Halting instantly, he turned and crossed the room back to her. "You don't have to ask permission to do anything. This is our house." He lifted his hand slowly, as if toward a skittish shaerly demon, and gently gripped her upper arm. "Just act naturally."

"Thanks," she whispered, the warmth of his hand melting some of the rigidity from her muscles.

"Why don't you use the phone in the office? I'll be making some noise in the kitchen."

"Pre-barbeque type noises?" She didn't wait for an answer, her mouth continuing without thought despite her anxiety. "I'll stay out of the way then. I know all about men and their charcoal."

Snorting back a laugh, Jack tweaked her nose before she could flinch away. "Brat. For that you can help me chop veggies later."

"Anything but that," she said dramatically, heart already lighter from his easy teasing. He shot her a wink and headed back into the kitchen. His trust sent waves of guilt through her gut. She didn't deserve it, clean bill of health from Brightman aside, when she still wasn't sure she really was his wife. The guilt forced her feet forward onto the tile. Jack's head was buried in the refrigerator, clanking noises not quite muffling the running commentary coming from his mouth. "It's long distance." She at least had to warn him his bill might be a little higher than normal.

"Don't care." He hadn't even looked around the door, just went back to his muttering.

"I'm calling Cleveland." Yeah, okay, it did have a slightly petulant tone and she should probably be more appreciative, but she was serious and he was more concerned with whatever it was he was muttering at. "It might be a really long call."

"Summers?" Stepping away from the fridge, he carried a bag of tomatoes and peppers over to the counter. He flashed a smile over his shoulder she felt all the way to her toes. "Tell her I said hi." And he went back to the vegetables.

She watched him for a minute longer, not sure what to make of their exchange. It appeared once Jack gave his trust that was it, there was no second guessing for him. Brightman had vouched for her and that was that. But she knew, with a sudden instinctive clarity, that once lost his trust would be next to impossible to regain. With a shrug, she headed in search of the office. She was the Slayer. If she could find one six-inch tall demon in a maze of tunnels she should be able to find an itty bitty room in a new place. The house couldn't be that big, could it?

Five minutes later she was closing the door behind her. She'd found the office easily enough on the lower level EM1 of the house but had sidetracked to familiarize herself with the layout of the entire place. The Slayer had determined it was defensible if necessary and Faith had pushed the thought aside roughly. She hadn't seen or heard anything to indicate there was any demon population to speak of in the town. But she'd been wrong before.

Like the rest of the house, what Jack called the office was neat and orderly without being obsessive. A simple wooden desk with a desktop computer, cordless phone and neatly stacked files, two bookcases filled to almost overflowing, a four drawer filing cabinet and two desk chairs encompassed the main portion of the small room. The wall opposite the desk was covered with framed accolades, awards, decorations and even a degree certificate. Feeling just the slightest bit intimidated at the display, she stepped closer to read the small print. Jack had a master's degree in aeronautics. Hadn't he just told her in the truck everyone he worked with was 'way smarter than he was?' Slightly intimidated turned into downright dwarfed. She hadn't even finished high school. She'd been too busy saving the world, turning evil and getting arrested to bother with reenrolling in school. And once they'd closed the Sunnydale Hellmouth there hadn't seemed to be a point in trying. It wasn't like she was going to need a diploma to kill vampires and demons.

Dejected, she glanced over the other signs of Jack's overachieverness, idly wondering why she was bothering. How had they ever hooked up in the first place? He was so out of her league they didn't even live on the same planet.

About to turn to the phone, knowing her pride really couldn't take much more, her eye was caught by what looked like her name. What the hell? That couldn't be right.

And yet there it was in black and white and gold. One GED certificate awarded to a Faith O'Neill in the year 2004. She'd gone back to school.

Blinking furiously to clear her vision – she was not tearing up, damn it – she ran shaking fingers over the glass. It didn't disappear as she was half afraid it would. It was real. She wondered if any of the Scoobies knew about this or if she'd kept it a secret from them. Buffy had always told her she could be a Slayer and have a life at the same time. Until now, Faith hadn't believed her.

With one last lingering look at her certificate, she walked the few steps to the desk, sitting in one of the chairs. She grabbed the receiver and started pounding out numbers, but stopped almost instantly. What if the number wasn't the same? Why hadn't she thought of that? Disgusted with herself, she set the phone on the desk, trying to decide whether or not to call information. Eyeing the address book lying next to the base station, she drummed her fingers on her leg. It wouldn't . . .

Oh, what the hell. Stranger things had happened to her in the past six hours. Flipping quickly to the S's, she ran a finger down the neatly printed list of names. Sacks, Sarten, Scrapton, blah, blah, blah, Summers. Buffy Summers. She'd told him about Buffy but not about being the Slayer? What had that conversation sounded like? She and B weren't exactly two people someone would instantly choose to be bosom buddies.

Before she could change her mind, she picked up the phone again and dialed. Three rings and then a voice she'd heard only the night before answered.

"Hello and thank you for calling Insanityville. How may I direct your call?"

It must have been a pretty bad week if B was resorting to confusing innocent bystanders on the phone. The sound of her voice brought the nonexistent wetness back to her eyes. Finally, something that was recognizable.

"Hello? Speak or I'm hanging up."

"B," Faith finally managed to spit out.

"Faith," her voice brightened and Faith could hear the smile with four states between them. "How was the anniversary? A week on a tropical island where clothing is optional? I so covet your life. Give me everything! You know I live vicariously through you. Don't leave out a single detail."

Unable to hold back the laughter, she halted the flood of words before Buffy passed out from lack of oxygen. "Woah, there. You okay? You're channeling more than a little Willow, you know."

Sounding unrepentant, Buffy gave her own snort of laughter. "And your point is? Now spill."

"Believe it or not, I'd love to." She had no words to express how true that was. "But I can't."

"Come on, I share the blood and guts with you. You share the domestic bliss with me. That's the deal."

Her smile widened at the wheedling before disappearing completely. "B, has anything weird happened lately? Slayer-type weird?"

"Just a horde of zithrals we finally got rid of last night," she said, all humor erased from her voice. "Why? What's wrong? Is Jack okay?"

"He's fine, I think. It's me."

"What's wrong, Faith?" There was no dissembling, B wanted an answer. Unfortunately, Faith didn't have one.

"I'm not sure. Not really." She took a breath, rubbing her eyes. "Apparently I've forgotten the last three years of my life."

"What!"

Yanking the phone away from her ear, Faith winced. Maybe she could have found a better way to say it. Now for the fun part. Leaving nothing out, she recounted the entire morning. Buffy listened quietly, interrupting only to ask for more specifics on a few bits. When she finally fell silent she leaned back in the chair, uncomfortably relieved to have dumped it all on someone else.

"Wow." Faith could see Buffy pacing across the distance. "I've never heard of anything like this. Not a spell or demon. Do you want me to see if Will can find anything?"

"Please," she said, hand unclenching from around the receiver. "I want this mess fixed as quick as possible."

"How's Jack doing?"

"'How's Jack?'" she parroted, spine straightening stiffly. "How about a little 'How's Faith?' Jack's not the one missing large chunks of his life."

"You're a Slayer. You've been dealing with things of the weird most of your life. He's just a normal flyboy." When Buffy paused carefully, Faith knew she wasn't going to like what came out next. "He might not be missing his memory, but he is missing his wife."

Yeah, that was the point she'd forgotten in the midst of her relief and indignation. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to be Jack's wife. She didn't know how to be anything but a Slayer. "B." She hesitated, a shaking beginning in her chest. "How do I . . ." She couldn't even finish.

Thankfully, Buffy knew her better than she did herself. "Just be nice to him. He's a good guy, Faith." An unexpected giggle came over the line. "He even took it in stride when I threatened him."

"When did you do that?"

"On your wedding day. I was your Maid of Honor." The seriousness came back without warning. "I told him if he hurt you I'd have to rearrange all his body parts."

If she'd ever thought B hadn't forgiven her for her jealous stupidity years ago, that one statement erased any doubt. "Thanks. But I doubt he took you seriously." Before Buffy could go on, there were a few things she had to get cleared up. "Do you know if I ever told Jack about us? About being a Slayer?" And how weird was it to be asking someone else about her own life?

"I don't think so. Since you've been there you've only run into a handful of vampires and no demons at all. Willow said there was some kind of weird energy around the whole town, kind of like a giant bug zapper. Not evil or anything. But whatever it is seems to keep the demon population at zilch."

Wasn't that a cool bit of knowledge. Had they taken any readings to see if the effect could be duplicated around the Hellmouth? Shaking off the Giles-like thought, she tapped one finger on her jeans clad knee. "Then why didn't I tell him?" There had to be an answer somewhere. She wouldn't have married him if she didn't think he could handle the whole package.

A heavy sigh echoed over the line. "Faith, I don't know. You never really told me why you were leaving. One day you just started packing. Said it was time to go."

"And you let me?"

"I admit I was a little irked at the time," and that had to be the understatement of the year, "but who was I to try and stop you? All you said was one day you might be able to tell me. Whatever that meant."

She let out a grunt, hand fisting tightly. So much for any clues from the Scoobies. If she hadn't told Buffy she certainly wouldn't have confided in any of the others. "I'm sorry, B. I'm just a little frustrated right now." Frustrated and still piling up more questions than answers.

"Be frustrated all you want. Just don't ever start to think you're not exactly where you're meant to be."

Huh? "You lost me with that sharp left turn. Want to translate?"

There was silence for almost a full ten seconds as if Buffy was trying to decide not only what to say but how to say it. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, hesitant, and yet awed at the same time. "About a year ago I asked you if you regretted your decision to stop being a Slayer. To marry Jack and basically just live a normal life."

"What could I possibly say to explain away abandoning you to the Hellmouth?" Faith's voice came out bitter, confused and downright scared without any conscious thought. And she definitely didn't think there was any reasoning able to justify what she'd done. "No man, however perfect he might appear, is worth giving everything up for."

"You're right, Faith. You told me he was worth living for."

Her mouth shut with an audible snap. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could even think after that. For the first time in years she was stunned into absolute silence.

"That's why you have to give this a chance, give him a break, even if you don't remember a thing." Buffy spoke softly, her voice soothing over Faith's dazed brain. "You'll never forgive yourself if this gets screwed up."

Somehow she found the words to end the conversation after getting Buffy to promise to call when she had any news from Willow. Dropping the receiver absently in her lap, Faith stared blindly at the computer screen. She screwed everything up. It was a given. If she was involved, unless it had something to do with being the Slayer, there was no question – it was doomed to failure. Especially in her personal life.

She could count on one hand the number of normal relationships she'd had in her life. Hell, she could be missing a few fingers and still have more than enough left over. And B was telling her to not mess up with Jack? That was like asking a vampire to switch to V8 juice. Not going to happen. She wouldn't do it on purpose, but eventually she always did something wrong.

A strident beeping cut into her morbid thoughts. The phone. She hadn't even disconnected after Buffy had hung up. Pushing the button roughly, she tossed the handset onto the desk. So, no answers. At least until Willow was able to find something. Damn it, she just wasn't cut out for this kind of stuff. Give her a demon or a good old fashioned horde any day. Those she knew how to deal with.

Standing, she scooted the chair back into the desk where she'd found it. The situation wasn't going to fix itself by hiding in the office. It was time to get back upstairs and get to know her husband and his friends.

With one last lingering look at the certificate on the wall, she walked out the door, back straight. Apparently she had some vegetables to chop.

TBC

Author's note: For those of you who are more Jack fans, he has a much larger role in the parts to come. Thanks for staying with us!