They had just settled into their new living arrangements, were beginning to allow the space of their home to fill up, both with needed possessions with each other, when Giles gestured one evening for Faith to sit, that he wanted to speak with her. Faith had done so with raised eyebrows, folding her arms as she looked up at him expectantly, thinking he intended to "suggest" to her about something as exciting as picking up plates and putting them in the dishwasher after using them, or perhaps being less reckless with slaying- always a popular topic- but his expression was not reproving, nor concerned, but rather thoughtful before he spoke.

"I believe, Faith, it is important to us both that we find a new purpose to our lives."

Startled, Faith had laughed slightly, eyebrows still arched high as she lifted one hand, palm up, in a gesture of confusion and skepticism.

"A purpose? Like what, religion, God? Or maybe sex, would that do?"

"A reason to wake up in the morning," Giles said patiently but with quiet conviction, ignoring the somewhat mocking tone to her voice. "Something to live for and look forward to each day. A reason to feel useful and needed, a reason to feel that for someone or something, you are making a better existence, or at least working towards doing so. Something to make you feel as if your life is meaningful, or that makes your own life seem meaningful. It is important, even vital, that we have such a thing, because if we do not, we continue to drift along without caring and with pain."

"Is this about slaying…you think I need to step it up?" Faith had asked with some confusion, furrowing her brow and sitting up a little straighter. "Because usually you're telling me to slow it down."

"No, not necessary, although slaying could become your purpose, at least for the time being," Giles had acknowledged. "At least in part…it doesn't seem healthy to have slaying as a purpose, when one day you may not be able to slay any more, for whatever reason might crop up."

"Well, then what?" she had asked, genuinely mystified as to what was supposed to be her "purpose" when slaying seemed to be the only thing people tended to agree she was genuinely good at, when it was in fact her calling, something she had been chosen to perform in her life. It was making her useful, wasn't it? It was making a better existence for people who didn't get killed?

But Giles would not provide her with an easy answer.

"You will have to discover that for yourself, but it's something that I feel you should do," was all he would say, giving her a small smile before standing, beginning to back away. "Something to consider."

Faith had watched him, frowning, thinking, and as he began to disappear through the doorway, called out to him with genuine curiosity.

"Giles...you got a purpose?"

He had half turned, tilting his head, and looked at her closely, a seriousness about his expression, the way he seemed to be remembering every part of her face, that struck her in a way she could not quite understand.

"I believe I do," he said quietly, and before she could ask for an elaboration, he turned again, walking from the room.