Title: Smoke and Mirrors 1/15
Author: Magpie and Wolfling
Email: magpie@moracle.co.uk and wolfling@sympatico.ca
Show: Buffy
Rating: NC-17
Category: angst, hurt/comfort
Warnings: spoilers up to the end of Chosen
Pairings: Giles/Ethan
Series: Of Old Mystics, sequel to Masks
Summary: Sometimes it's difficult to tell what is illusion and what is reality

Author Notes: Many thanks to Mad Poetess and Wesleysgirl for betaing :) This is the first chapter of the sequel to Masks, the second story in the Of Old Mystics series. Masks can be found at http://www.myarseisnotpansy.co.uk/piedm/masks/masks0.html.

"Any requests?" Ripper asked from the bed, not looking up from tuning his guitar.

It took a few seconds for the question to register, so intent was Ethan in watching the other boy's hands move so surely over the instrument. He thought a little while, wiggling about within the nest of floor cushions to try to get more comfortable, and as his eyes fell upon the painted tobacco tin near his feet, he began to smirk. "Puff the Magic Dragon, if you would."

That got him an amused glance. "The song or the activity?" Ripper asked teasingly.

"You take care of the former, and I'll sort out the latter. How's that sound?" He picked up the tin and opened it carefully, not wanting to spill any of the small treasures inside.

"Efficient." Ripper played the opening chords of the requested song.

Again, Ethan found himself mesmerised by Ripper's hands, the open tin forgotten in his own, and when his lover began to sing, Ethan felt himself getting caught up in the silly tale about the boy and his dragon. After the last night's happy --and inevitably intense-- debauchery with the others in their closed circle, they were both somewhat dazed and indolent this long, Sunday afternoon.

As always, Ripper seemed to get as lost in his own music as Ethan did; his eyes were closed, and his expression was one that never failed to make Ethan catch his breath. And somehow Ripper managed to eject sufficient pathos into the final maudlin verse -- in which the boy grew up and left the dragon behind to mope alone in his cave -- to actually bring a certain embarrassing dampness to Ethan's eye.

To cover it, he quickly set about the business of shredding and rolling.

Ripper finished the song, letting the last chords trail off into silence, opening his eyes and laying the guitar aside self-consciously. "I think we need a joint after that."

This was one of those moments when Ethan desperately wanted to tell Ripper how much he loved him, but he wouldn't -- couldn't -- let the words escape. Only when Ripper had broken through Ethan's many protective barriers with sex and magic could Ethan allow himself to say those words. He hoped Ripper knew though -- that Ethan loved him all the time and not just when high and shagged half-senseless.

Thinking about the song, which really didn't deserve such time and energy being spent on it, Ethan said, "I never want to grow so old I forget the magic. Let's stay in Never-never Land forever, my dear."

Ripper smiled sardonically, reaching over and plucking the just-made joint from Ethan's fingers. "This will certainly keep us there for the foreseeable future," he said, then glanced up and met Ethan's eyes, his own suddenly serious. "And you're more likely to forget your name than forget your magic." Ethan smiled, touched that Ripper knew him so well.

As his lover, with a touch of magic, lit up the well-made spliff, Ethan moved over to sit beside him on the bed, biting softly into the other boy's shoulder through his shirt. "Last night was fun."

"Yes." Ripper shot him a fond look as he took a drag then offered the joint to Ethan. "You seemed to be enjoying being the centre of attention."

After taking, and holding, a lazy toke, Ethan blew the smoke out in a long stream and rode the buzz briefly in silence before answering. "All of them looking, none of them seeing -- apart from you. Yes, I like it that way; you're right."

"You were... mesmerising," Ripper told him, his voice becoming a bit dreamy as he took the joint back.

Making the most of having his hands free, Ethan moved onto his knees behind Ripper and wrapped his arms around his lover, resting his chin on the other boy's shoulder. "I'm glad you think so."

His tone was dry, but that didn't change the fact that he meant it. His displays of glitter and excess were usually nothing more than camouflage, blinding other people to the reality of what he was. But when Ripper was there, they became something a lot more real and intense. Sometimes, with Ripper's gaze upon him, Ethan felt like he was somehow dancing in an exquisite ballet for an audience of one.

"I like watching you," Ripper continued in the same dreamy tone, letting his head fall back onto Ethan's shoulder. His free hand slid sensuously along Ethan's arm. "You move like..." Ripper broke off with a throaty chuckle before continuing. "Like sex."

Ethan giggled a little at that and pressed himself against Ripper's back, rubbing lightly from side to side with a sway of his hips. "Like this you mean?" He leant forward over his lover's shoulder encouragingly, hoping Ripper would hold the joint up to his lips.

"Something like that." Ripper took a drag himself, then moved enough to be able to kiss Ethan, exhaling the potent smoke into his mouth.

They were quiet for a while after that, apart from small moans and appreciative sighs, as they lost themselves in each other's mouths and the heady hit of the blowback. Ethan moved slowly around so that they were sitting side by side, facing each other, and he slipped his arms under Ripper's T-shirt to stroke sensually over smooth flesh.

Ripper made a small appreciative sound in the back of his throat and slid an arm around Ethan, pulling him closer, his kiss turning harder, possessive, and Ethan, as usual, met this receptively. It was his way to let his lover control the embrace, submitting happily to Ripper's physical demands. And yet, today, Ethan found he wanted something more than just the usual.

Separating his mouth from Ripper's, he bent and took another toke from the dwindling joint, letting it hit his bloodstream while he sat back on his heels and gazed at his lover appraisingly.

"That look always means trouble," Ripper murmured, although the only thing that shone in his eyes was anticipation. "What are you thinking?"

"Why don't you roll us another, and I'll show you," Ethan purred. Ripper quirked a smile at him, then reached for the tin to do just that, and Ethan slipped from the bed and slowly stripped. He wasn't dancing as such, but he let his body sway slightly to an inner music as he undressed. It seemed to have the desired effect, as Ripper spent as much time watching him, eyes dark with want, as he did deftly creating another joint.

Once Ripper's task was complete, if unlit, and his attention was all upon his lover, Ethan closed his eyes and began, with flat palms and splayed open fingers, to slowly caress his own body.

First exploring his chest and belly, Ethan dragged over his taut nipples and delved down to stroke over the edge of his pubic hairs. He tipped his head back, groaning softly, as the upper hand raised to encircle his throat. And then it swept up further to press fingers to his kissing lips. He stuck his tongue out to wet the tips; his eyes still closed, and his other hand moved lower still.

He heard his lover growl, heard the springs in the bed creak as Ripper moved. Speaking quickly, Ethan said, "No, stay, please. Let me do this for you."

There was a pause and then Ripper chuckled huskily. "Going to put on a show, love?" he asked, and Ethan heard the springs creak again, presumably from Ripper settling back.

"I exist to entertain you," Ethan chuckled. "Light up and relax." He continued to rub his hands all over his body, still swaying slightly, until he heard the muttered incantation from Ripper and smelled fresh smoke in the room. Then Ethan opened his eyes and locked gazes with the other boy, prowling forward towards him.

Ripper was eyeing him with desire, want, and admiration. "Mesmerising," he murmured again, reaching out a hand and beckoning Ethan to him.

"Uh uh," Ethan shook his head. "Today, you don't get to take. Lay back and put your hands above your head." It was a risk he was taking here; he'd never assumed control before.

Ripper raised his eyebrows in surprise, but after a second, he grinned and stretched out, raising his hands over his head, the joint still held in his left one. "What next?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Now," Ethan replied, climbing onto the bed and crawling up his lover's body, "For what you are about to receive, may the powers make you truly thankful." Sitting astride Ripper, Ethan reached out and stole the spliff from his hand, inhaling deeply.

"I'm sure I will be -- provided there's more to this than watching you smoke."

Bending down, Ethan shared his breath with Ripper, while simultaneously rubbing his naked body over Ripper's still clothed one, continuing the slow, soft rhythm of his non-dance. When the smoke was pretty much exhausted between their two sets of lungs, he moved back a small way and teased his lover's lips with his tongue.

Ripper lifted his head in an effort to capture Ethan's mouth, but kept his hands still above his head. Ethan backed up, smiling. "No taking," he reminded his lover. "Just receiving." Instead, he filled Ripper's questing lips with the spliff, and bent to nibble at his lover's neck. "I want you naked," he murmured.

"Feel free to take my clothes off then," Ripper invited, mumbling in an effort to not lose the joint. Ethan took it from him, took a deep drag, and then placed it on the side.

"Texurum divid!" he said, running his finger down Ripper's chest and laughing as the cloth separated under his touch. It really was very funny.

That earned him an eye roll from his lover, which quickly morphed into an almost-glare. "These are my favourite jeans," Ripper said, giving ample warning.

"Shhh," Ethan hushed him, still giggling quietly, but he took the warning seriously and removed Ripper's trousers the more normal way. His lover was naked underneath, his cock hard and impatient. Ethan pressed soft lips to the very tip of it and then moved back up the bed to reclaim the joint and share another toke with Ripper.

Taking advantage of the action, Ripper brushed his lips against Ethan's, quickly deepening the contact to a long lingering kiss. Ethan let him, unable to resist, the pot making him mellow and obliging.

But after a while -- quite a long while -- Ethan reluctantly broke away and started again to move slowly down his lover's body, licking, kissing, and even biting as he descended, the spliff held safely away from Ripper between two fingers. Ripper obligingly held still, but Ethan could feel the tensing and twitching of his lover's muscles under his mouth. Looking up, he found Ripper's gaze, dark with drugs and arousal, focused entirely on him.

The sight made Ethan moan and thrust himself against Ripper's legs.

Thinking he was sharing a deep thought, and maybe he was, Ethan commented, "Your eyes make me into one big erogenous zone. Sometimes I think you'd only need to look at me like that for long enough, and I'd be coming." He giggled. "So careful where you try it then."

Then he bent his head low and took the head of Ripper's cock into his mouth.

Ripper groaned, the sound going down Ethan's spine like a physical touch. Deftly, the younger boy worked up and down the thick shaft, his aim to make it as wet as he could, then he drew back far enough to take a long drag on the joint. In one, long, carefully controlled stream, he blew the smoke across Ripper's glistening and oh so beautiful cock.

Ripper's hips jerked upward, and he swallowed a muttered curse in reaction. Reflexively, he started to lower his arms, but stopped himself before Ethan could say anything.

Ethan smiled. Grasping the other boy's shaft in his free fist and starting to slowly work it, he bent his head lower to lick and then suck on Ripper's balls, taking each into his mouth in turn and massaging softly with his tongue. He heard Ripper gasp out his name like a prayer or a curse, and felt his lover's muscles tremble as he fought to remain perfectly still under Ethan's attentions.

Chuckling, Ethan sat back on his heels. "I think you should roll over now, dearheart. Hands and knees, if you please." He enjoyed more of the heavy smoke while he waited for his lover to oblige him, which Ripper did with gratifying speed -- all of the energy held in check during his forced stillness exploding into the requested movement.

Moving between Ripper's legs, Ethan paused briefly to view the sight presented him, which under the influence of love and a whole load of pot, seemed to have become something beautiful and otherworldly as opposed to simply his lover's arse.

Half-giggling, half-moaning, he bent his head to kiss and nibble Ripper's buttocks, first one and then the other, his tongue leaving glistening trails as he moved between them. Ripper himself remained silent, but the little shifts in movement, and the feel of his muscles tensing and releasing, let Ethan know Ripper was enjoying himself.

"You know," Ethan said, a little dreamily, "there's something I've always wanted to try." As he considered it, he moved his head lower, to lick, cat-like, up the back of Ripper's balls and along the perineum, teasing the sensitive nerve endings there.

"And what's that?" Ripper asked, voice deep and throaty.

Ethan took another deep pull on the joint, blowing over the wet areas he'd made, before replying. "Smoke," he finally said, apparently answering a completely different question, "is the illusionist's greatest asset -- along with mirrors, of course." He returned his tongue and lips to Ripper's sensitive skin and started to work his way upwards, using his fingers to part his lover's buttocks further, so that he could push his face between them.

Ripper groaned loudly at the first touch. "We've the smoke, although we're short on the mir-- Oh god."

Giggling against his lover's skin, Ethan kissed the puckered hole as if it were a mouth, running his tongue back and forth and poking a little way between the muscle. At the same time, his free hand moved round to grasp Ripper's cock again and stroke it firmly.

"You can keep doing that as long as you want," Ripper gasped, his hips moving between the two sources of sensation.

Ethan moved back just long enough to fill his lungs with smoke and pressed his lips back down, sealing to Ripper's skin. He looped his tongue, making a kind of straw, and pushed between the tight muscle, blowing the smoke from his lungs inside Ripper.

The reaction was immediate; Ripper threw his head back and gasped. "Wha-?"

Pulling back for another toke, Ethan first said, "It's all an illusion, my dear. Nothing but smoke, swirling and dancing, and telling delightful falsehoods." Lungs refilled, he bent and repeated his action, staying down longer this time and remembering to lazily stroke the older boy's cock.

"That's.... It feels..." Ripper broke off with a groan. "Christ, Ethan, that's...."

Ethan continued his activity until the joint, already quite depleted, was burnt down to the roach, which he discarded in the ashtray on the side. By this point, he was pretty much off his bonce, and giggling madly, he pushed Ripper over and collapsed on top of him.

Ripper wrapped his arms around him, and pulled Ethan up so he could kiss him, seeming to lose himself in the action. "Want you," he murmured against Ethan's mouth.

"Have me," Ethan murmured back and then laughed.

Rolling them over so that he was on top, Ripper chuckled. "You, love, are completely stoned."

"I will therefore gather no moss," Ethan announced grandly. He squirmed under his lover, moving his legs apart and making it very obvious what he wanted.

"Want me?" Ripper asked, teasing Ethan's lips again, but the younger boy didn't answer with words, choosing to wrap his arms and legs around Ripper and wriggle sensually instead. "I'll take that as a yes," Ripper said, and then he was pushing inside.

Ethan tipped his head back, breathing fast and grinning with an open mouth. As Ripper started to move within him, he said, "I refuse... to accept.. that you're not... totally stoked too."

Ripper grinned. "Maybe a little." He found Ethan's hands and clasped them in his own. Then, smile getting bigger, he sent a pulse of magic along Ethan's nerves.

Ethan's moan was probably somewhat closer to a wail as the touch of Ripper's magic ignited his own, and his body was wracked with waves of sparkling sensation. His doped-up mind had no chance of resisting; he could only ride the waves and trust his lover to guide him safely. It seemed to go on forever -- the pleasure, the sensation, Ripper in his body, in his mind, in his soul. It was almost enough -- almost too much -- as the waves went higher and higher, threatening to pull him under completely.

"Tell me," Ripper demanded in a breathless voice, pounding into Ethan with flesh and magic.

Ripped open and laid bare by his lover, who was living up to his name far too well, Ethan had no choice but to comply; to surrender the words he'd held onto so tightly. Tears ran down his transfixed face as he cried out, "I... I love you..."

He was rewarded by another surge of magic and a powerful thrust that hit exactly in the right spot, more than enough to push him completely over the top.

***

"Of course, we'll have to introduce them to drugs at some stage," Ethan said, watching their two Slayers do callisthenics on the mats at the far end of the warehouse -- this being the substantial building which housed the indoor aspects of the brand-new, purpose-built Slayer training facility near St Albans.

Giles, who had been concentrating on watching the two girls' form, swung around to look at his lover. "I'm sure you're going to explain that statement in a way that doesn't sound quite so irresponsible," he said levelly.

"No, Rupert," Ethan replied, his face utterly serious, "They need a bit of fun in their dreary days of endless training. So do we, for that matter. I was thinking of letting them experience a good old English rave."

"Don't you think we'd rather stand out at such a thing?" Giles asked dryly.

Ethan met Giles' eyes and smiled "Our days of drugs and clubs are long gone, but they're still young --" He nodded his head sideways towards Kat and Megan. "And with their constitutions they could do that high-energy jigging about they call dance all night and hardly feel it."

"Dancing all night is one thing; drugs are certainly another, and you know it." Giles was positive that Ethan was having him on, but he was quite happy to play his part as the disapproving one, especially as things had been going so well.

It had been almost a month since he had, on impulse, drafted Ethan into helping to train the two girls, and so far, everything was turning out far better than even Giles' hopes for it. Kat and Megan seemed to genuinely connect with Ethan in a way they hadn't with any of their previous teachers, and Ethan, for all of his irreverence, and his strong doubts about undertaking the responsibility, had displayed a real talent for teaching that had surprised everyone. Ethan most of all.

"I'm given to understand the taking of 'E' is a vital part of the rave experience," Ethan said.

"That may be so, but you know as well as I that you'd take apart anyone who gave it to the girls."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, neither affirming nor denying Giles' statement. "So the Council no longer believes in drugging their Slayers then?"

A flash of memory overwhelmed Giles for a brief second; the feel of the hypodermic needle in his hand, the look of betrayal on Buffy's face. He pressed his lips together tightly as he banished the memory and the emotions it raised as best he could. "That barbaric ritual will have no place in any Council I'm a part of."

Ethan's hand touched Giles' upper arm. "Sorry," he said sincerely. "I had to know."

The touch grounded Giles in the present, and he brushed Ethan's fingers briefly with his own. "No drugs," he said quietly, summing up everything in those two words.

"No drugs," Ethan agreed. "If they need training in using their skills while intoxicated, we can fake the experience with magic. No side effects then... at least, not for them." He frowned for a moment then called over to the Slayers. "I'm sure that's sufficient warming up, girls. I'm overheated myself just from watching you. Come over here now, and we can play a little game."

Kat and Megan both obeyed -- Kat all but bouncing over, Megan following more sedately. "What's up?" Kat asked, pushing a strand of pink hair from her eyes. The girl was half-Japanese and had naturally sleek black hair cut in a tomboyish bob, but she liked to bleach strands and dye them various bright colours.

Ethan grinned. "I told you; it's time for party games. A Slayer needs to know how to have fun properly. It's written in the big Watcher book -- you know, the one Rupert won't let you look in."

"I could always leave so you can malign me with impunity," Giles offered, knowing what the answer would be.

"Now, now." Ethan pouted at his partner. "You know we can't play the games without you."

Megan made a small noise, clearly about to speak. Unlike Kat, who had certain sturdiness about her, Megan was tall and very thin and when her long hair was loose, she had the air of a weeping-willow sapling. She looked so fragile it was sometimes hard to remember that she had the strength and reflexes of a Slayer. "What kind of game is it?" she asked softly.

"Hunt the Thimble." Ethan chuckled. "Or rather hunt the rare, mystical, and absolutely vital for world safety artefact that happens to look exactly like a thimble."

Kat snorted. "Much call for mystical thimbles is there?"

Ethan nodded solemnly, a twinkle in his eye. "Yes, absolutely vital in the potent magical art of quilting. Hop to it then. You have an awful lot of warehouse to search. And don't forget to check for traps. Tea, Rupert?"

"Tea would be lovely, thank you." Giles didn't even try to hide his smile; Ethan's methods might be unconventional, but that didn't stop them being effective.

"You're kidding, right?" Kat protested, looking around the indoor training facility, which they currently had to themselves.

"I suspect we're meant to look for clues," Megan murmured to her.

Ethan smiled approvingly at the shyer girl. "Everything you need to find the thimble is here in the warehouse. The game shouldn't prove a problem for observant players."

Kat continued to stare at Ethan in disbelief until Megan tugged on her arm, pulling her away to start searching. Giles watched them for a minute, making note of the way that Megan took control. Hidden depths there, if she could overcome her innate shyness.

When he turned back to Ethan, he saw his lover was watching the two girls with equal concentration. Ethan's mouth twitched in small smiles or frowns as the Slayers' search progressed and they got closer or further away from their objective. Apparently becoming aware of Giles' attention, Ethan dragged his gaze around to look at his lover. "Right, tea," he grinned, and headed off to their little Watchers' office to make it.

After one last glance at the two Slayers, Giles followed, entering the office and smiling as he watched Ethan putter around making tea. "You're loving this, aren't you?"

"The chance to corrupt young minds? What's not to love?"

"Corrupting." Giles nodded knowingly as he sat down. "Of course."

Ethan turned around and leant on the counter as he waited for the kettle to boil. He looked at his partner thoughtfully and then commented in a quiet voice, "They're good girls."

"Yes, they are," Giles agreed, waiting for a hint of what exactly was going on in Ethan's mind.

"Doesn't it bother you, Rupert? We're turning children into soldiers."

Ah. "Welcome to my world." It was a bit disconcerting hearing some of the ethical dilemmas that Giles had struggled with for years coming out of Ethan's mouth. Still, at least it was a subject he was well versed in. "Even if they're not going to be active, they're still going to be targets. We're teaching them what they need to know to survive."

Ethan nodded. "You're quite right, of course." He turned around and opened the tea tin, spooning some of the black leaves into the pot. "I'm thinking about going out tonight," he said casually.

The sudden change of subject didn't throw Giles off so much as it stirred worries that he'd manage to almost bury. "Alone?" he asked, managing to match Ethan's casual tone.

Ethan kept his back to Giles, pouring water into the pot. "If that's alright with you. Kat said something about co-dependency or some other Californian pop-psychology term. I had to admit we do rather live in each other's pockets."

"And that's bothering you?" Giles continued to keep his voice casual, though he felt anything but.

"Oh not at all," Ethan reassured, although he still didn't turn around. "I just thought it might be a good idea for both of us if we had occasional evenings apart. Don't want you getting sick of the sight of my face, Rupert."

"If that hasn't happened by now, I sincerely doubt it's going to," Giles replied a bit more vehemently than he had intended. He took a deep breath and did his best to be graceful about this. "Although of course, if you want to take an evening out, you should feel free to do so. I wouldn't want you to get sick of my face either."

And now, at last, Ethan turned, and after a quick check outside the office door, he walked over to his lover and touched Giles' cheek with a gentle hand. "If this face is the last thing I ever see, I'll be happy enough with my life," he said, with that scorching sincerity he sometimes found these days. Then he smirked. "Of course, I'm rather hoping for many more years of waking up to it before that day comes."

The words eased some of the fear that Giles had never quite been able to banish, fears that he didn't like to acknowledge even to himself, about not being enough to hold Ethan once his lover had recovered sufficiently to leave. Reacting to his fears, and to Ethan's words, Giles reached up and pulled Ethan down to kiss him long enough and hard enough to leave them both a bit breathless. "Remember that when you're out tonight."

With a rather stunned expression, Ethan nodded. He looked like he was about to lean in for another kiss, but then there was a noise from outside the office. They both looked up to see two pairs of eyes staring at them through the window.

Giles got up and opened the door. "I trust this interruption is because you found the thimble?"

Kat grinned cheekily up at him, "Nah, we found your cellphone instead. It was playing that smoke on the river thing again." She handed the offending article over to Giles. "And gotta say, you two together... hot!" She waved her fingers about and blew on them expressively.

Megan blushed and looked down, but Giles could see a small smile on her face as well.

Before Giles could respond, the phone in his hand rang again and he answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello sir, it's Pamela. I realise you're busy, but we have a bit of an unfortunate situation here..." He could hear the strain in her voice.

Sighing, Giles sat back down. "What is it now, Pamela?"

Ethan frowned and murmured something to the girls who promptly left the office. He turned to pour the tea.

"It's Ms Travers, sir. Certain... issues have arisen. We really could do with you in the office."

Giles let out another sigh, reflecting he'd been doing that an awful lot since Francesca Travers had shown up. "This can't wait?"

He heard Pamela take a deep breath. "In my judgement, no sir. I think the situation requires damage control that I simply don't have the seniority to supply myself, much though I'd prefer not to bother you today."

Ethan placed a mug of hot tea down beside Giles and gestured with his eyes to the door, obviously asking if he should give Giles some privacy.

Giles reached out and touched Ethan's hand in a staying gesture. "Just what kind of damage control am I going to need to do?"

"Talk to her, sir? She simply won't listen to reason. Her father... well, let's just say she doesn't like the changes to Council tradition that you have initiated, and the others are too cowed by memories of her father to protest as she sweeps around the place countermanding your every instruction."

"Bloody hell," he muttered. "All right. I'll be there as soon as I can. Please tell Ms Travers I've asked her to wait in my office until I arrive."

"I'll pass the message on immediately, sir. I'm sorry about this."

As Giles turned the phone off, Ethan moved behind the chair and began to gently massage his lover's shoulders. "Trouble?"

"You could say that," Giles replied, letting himself relax into his lover's touch for a moment. "I've mentioned Francesca Travers to you...?"

"Your predecessor's daughter with the big daddy issues. Yes, her name may have passed your lips once or twice." There was gentle amusement in Ethan's tone.

"I can't imagine why," Giles replied in kind, then sighed as he continued. "Apparently she's been throwing her weight around in my absence. Blasted woman needs a leash." He paused. "Possibly a muzzle."

"I could turn her into a Balshat Demon for you," Ethan offered. "They come ready supplied with a number of leather accoutrements."

"Not that I'm not tempted, but turning her into a demon would do more harm than good. Might improve her personality though."

Ethan chuckled softly. "So playtime is over for today?"

"For me at least." Reluctantly, Giles pulled away from Ethan's hands and stood. "Looks like you picked a good night to go out, love. Knowing Francesca, I'm probably going to be tied up with this for quite some time."

Ethan didn't exactly looked pleased at the prospect, but when he spoke it was with an obliging tone. "I'll get the girls home on the train if you like. Maybe take them shopping. That way, they can actually find the damn thimble before we leave here." He smiled.

"I'm sure they'll like that," Giles said, moving to kiss Ethan. "If I don't see you before, I'll see you in the morning."

Something uncertain seemed to flicker through Ethan's eyes, but he nodded, still smiling. "Try to remain calm with the bitch, Rupert. She doesn't deserve the exquisite thrill of your anger. And if all else fails, just think 'Balshat.'"

Giles smiled back and kissed Ethan one more time before moving away. "Have fun tonight." And come home to me, he thought, but didn't add. He did say after a moment's hesitation, "If I'm asleep when you get home, don't be afraid to wake me."

Again the doubt flickered through the dark eyes. "Of course," Ethan replied.

Giles wanted to stay and see about what was causing those flickers of doubt, but duty called. Vowing to find out later, he squeezed Ethan's arm as he passed, heading out of the office and the warehouse, to go do battle with a harridan.

A Balshat demon would be easier to handle.

NEXT