Title: Smoke and Mirrors 5/15
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 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.

"She's going to be fine."

Giles had lost count of the number of times he'd said that to Ethan since they'd left Megan at the hospital, but the other man had been unresponsive -- especially since they'd dropped Kat safely home at her boarding house. Ethan was apparently lost in his own thoughts, twitching and occasionally, Giles suspected, mumbling, although nothing could be made out over the engine noise.

As street lights and passing cars briefly illuminated his lover's face, Giles glanced over, and he saw nothing to dispel his worries. Ethan looked... scared. There wasn't much Giles could do while driving except get them home as quickly as possible. Then, he promised himself, they'd deal with everything together.

Whether Ethan wanted to or not.

They were quite close to home when Ethan suddenly said, "Pull over." One look at his lover's expression was enough to get Giles to comply. "I..." Ethan didn't seem to be able to look at Giles, and he was fumbling with the door handle. "I should be back by dawn... maybe a little later."

Without thought, Giles reached over and grabbed Ethan's arm, keeping him from getting out. "No," he said quietly, truly afraid of what would happen if Ethan went off on his own. "Not tonight."

"I need to, Rupert." Ethan's tone was tense.

"You need somewhere safe and quiet to do the ritual. You have that at home."

"I..." Ethan was staring at Giles' hand on his arm. "Are you serious?"

"I don't want you alone tonight," Giles told him, leaving all the reasons why unsaid.

There were a few moments of silence, then in a strange tight little voice, Ethan said, "Would you be a sweetheart and remove your hand, Rupert? I don't require restraint." Giles did so, although he didn't relax until Ethan gestured for him to drive on.

There was silence until they pulled up outside the house, when Ethan asked abruptly, "Should I use the spare room?"

"Where would be the most comfortable?" Giles asked. He wasn't exactly crazy about having Chaos magic in his bedroom, but these were exceptional circumstances. For Ethan, he would, as Buffy would say, deal.

"Comfort doesn't matter." Ethan opened the door of the car and got out, shutting it behind him. Giles watched his lover walk straight to the house, open the door and go in. Normally Ethan waited for Giles, and they walked in together. Giles followed Ethan inside as quickly as he could, not liking this withdrawal and not willing to let it continue without at least trying to reach the other man.

He caught up to Ethan in the living room and grabbed his arm again to keep him from continuing to walk away. "Wait."

Ethan spun around, glaring. He spoke through gritted teeth. "Don't. Touch. Me."

The hostility took Giles off-guard. "Ethan, wha--"

"Just... just keep away from me. I can't be near you tonight." Ethan turned to walk away again, but then stopped, and with his back to Giles, said vehemently, "You've got a lot to answer for."

Giles took a deep breath. So it was going to be him that Ethan placed the blame on. "Ethan, I--"

"Shut up!" Ethan whirled back around; his face was contorted with what looked like fury. Giles had never seen his lover so angry before. Well, maybe once... "You did this. You did it." Ethan was waving a pointing finger in blame. "Stupid, selfish, cruel--"

Despite his resolve to remain calm, Giles' own guilt and anger were sparked by Ethan's. "You think I *wanted* Megan to get hurt? That I wouldn't have given anything for it not to have happened?"

For a fraction of a second, it almost looked as if Ethan was going to be stupid enough to try to hit Giles, but some kind of sense obviously prevailed. His voice was, while not calmer, a little more controlled when he next spoke. "You... you made me a sodding Watcher. You put me... *me* in charge of children. You made... you made..." He stopped and seemed almost to be fighting back sobs.

The anger flowed harmlessly out of Giles as quickly as it had first caught flame. Ethan's words made it clear that he wasn't blaming Giles so much as lashing out blindly. Giles reached out again to try and touch his lover.

"No!" Ethan threw his hands up, knocking Giles' aside. His expression was now one more of fear than anger. "Don't touch me. Don't..." He took a stumbling step back and tripped, falling onto his arse by the stairs. "You did this. You did this to me. You made me care. Oh God, you made me care..."

Giles' entire understanding of the situation shifted. This wasn't about guilt or anger -- though both were certainly present -- this was about sheer terror. For someone who had been alone for most of his life, this must be more bewildering and devastating than Giles could imagine.

Kneeling down beside where Ethan was sprawled, Giles implacably pulled his lover into his arms, holding on while Ethan struggled, as much against himself as against Giles. Eventually Ethan went limp in his arms, and after a little while longer, his lover put his arms around Giles and murmured miserably, "I'm sorry. It's possible I may not be coping too well."

Giles ran his hand in light circles over Ethan's back. "Possibly," he admitted. "But you don't have to cope alone."

"I just don't... I haven't... There's only ever been you, Rupert. And most of those years even my affection for you was all twisted up with resentment. I don't have any idea how to do this. How to care... if she'd died... I don't understand how you can cope with these things."

"For me, the alternative -- not caring -- is unacceptable." Memories swirled around him as he added, "That doesn't mean I've always coped well."

Ethan shifted against him, perhaps trying to get closer, or maybe just more comfortable. "You're a trifle bit stronger than me, I think."

Giles tightened his embrace. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"I'm a broken man remade, and the glue's still wet... Ah," he sighed. "I need to do my... to do the ritual." Ethan pushed back a little and smiled very weakly at Giles. "I'll use the spare bedroom. I'll do my sorry best not to let any energies escape, but you'd be wise to protect yourself. Especially the way you're glowing currently."

Startled, Giles quickly took inner stock; he'd thought he'd pushed all of his Power down again after burning the poison from Megan's system, but Ethan was right. It was all lurking there, barely beneath the surface; he would indeed be glowing to magic sense.

"I guess all the excitement kept me from locking it down properly," he murmured, as much to reassure himself as in response to Ethan. That was all it was, he told himself. He'd just been too distracted to do a proper job.

Ethan's hand softly caressed Giles' cheek. "You're beautiful," he said, with a slightly stronger smile. Then he stood up and started to climb the stairs, murmuring, "Thank you, Rupert," very quietly as he went up.

Giles watched him go, letting out a breath. He hoped that the ritual would help Ethan; he could put up with Chaos magic in his house if it did. Himself, he was going to have a glass or two of scotch. Then he was going to see about locking his magic back down.

He might well beautiful when glowing with power, but he was also dangerous...

A little over an hour later, Giles opened his eyes, admitting defeat. He was exhausted, had the beginnings of a headache, and his magic stubbornly refused to go back into the mental box he kept it in.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. The entire house resonated with the wild magic that Ethan was playing with upstairs, making it impossible to meditate or even concentrate on anything for very long. It was the mental equivalent of having ants crawling on his skin.

Giving it up as a lost cause, Giles downed the last of his drink and stood up. He headed upstairs intending to go to bed. Not that he thought he was going to get to sleep with his nerves jangling as they were, but at least he could pretend.

He had to walk past the spare room to get to the bedroom, and Ethan was standing there, leaning against the doorframe. His lover's eyes were black pits, and his smile was that of a hungry wolf. "Hello Ripper," he drawled.

"Ethan," Giles responded, his magic stirring in response to the power-centre that his lover currently was. Giles frowned, doing his best to push it back down again.

"So beautiful," Ethan murmured, and stepped lazily forward to touch Giles' face as he had downstairs earlier. "Quite exquisite."

And just like that, Giles' magic was back right at the surface. He stepped back, away from his lover's hand. "Ethan, perhaps this isn't the best time--"

But Ethan was moving closer still, forcing Giles back against the banister and pressing their bodies together. "I want you," he said breathlessly, his black-eyed gaze burning into Giles'.

Giles' body responded to Ethan's proximity, responded to his lover's magic; he could almost feel it running along his skin. "I... I don't think--" he stammered.

"Shh," Ethan soothed, in a way that wasn't remotely calming, and he pressed his hungry-wolf lips to Giles' while his hands stroked wild magic across Giles' body.

Oh god... He tried to resist, but the sensations running through him were overwhelming. Without thought, his lips parted under Ethan's, and a whimper escaped him when his lover's tongue slid into his mouth, tingling with power.

Ethan kissed like a starving man, pressing and rubbing into Giles until the banister rail began to creak ominously behind him. Then Ethan was pulling him into the spare bedroom, their lips still locked together, as they headed past the ritual remains to the bed Ethan had apparently pushed against the wall.

The Chaos energies from the ritual were even stronger here, and Giles felt himself getting lost in them, despite his best effort to hold onto and control his own magic. Ethan's touch was creating an ache that Giles couldn't ease alone, the power stroking him all over, arousing him in spite of his misgivings.

"Oh, my Ripper," Ethan murmured against his lips, and he turned them around together then pushed forward, so that Giles fell back onto the bed, with Ethan on top. "Texurum divid!" Ethan declared, and Giles found his clothes, and Ethan's as well, falling into useless rags around them.

Giles groaned at the feeling of skin against skin, magic against magic; Ethan and the Chaos power pulling the reaction from him, wrapping him up in a place where all he could do was feel. Reacting in any useful way was suddenly beyond him.

Ethan's mouth was consuming Giles' own, and Giles felt like he was being sucked inside his lover. And those long-fingered hands were on his chest, pulling at his nipples. Everything that was Ethan was tugging at Giles, dragging his magic out to join with Ethan's, the way they had once played.

But things were very different now.

There was a voice in the back of Giles' mind that insisted his magic was bad... dangerous. He no longer was comfortable with his magic and couldn't let it flow freely no matter the circumstances. Even now, with Ethan's overwhelming power drawing it out, Giles couldn't stop fighting it, couldn't stop being terrified that if he did relax his control he'd never get it back.

But fighting wasn't helping, at least not enough, as he could feel his own power mixing with Ethan's, who was moaning and twitching on top of him. Giles felt himself lift from the bed and float further onto it before touching down again, and he wasn't even sure whose magic fuelled the manoeuvre. Ethan's legs were between his own... and that was different too.

The magic -- his, Ethan's, both of theirs, he could no longer tell -- wrapped around him, making him arch upwards with a gasp, spreading his legs without conscious decision, offering himself for... for...

The ache inside him was suddenly taking on very specific shape.

With an awed expression that seemed to suggest Ethan couldn't quite believe what he was doing, his lover moved... and was suddenly inside Giles, slipping easily in on a lubrication of the magic that surrounded them. Their combined power surged around the bed, whirling out of either man's control.

Terror surged through Giles, heightening every other sensation. He clung to Ethan, hips rocking automatically as they moved together; all the while that voice in his mind babbled, 'No, control, no control...' over and over.

Ethan, oblivious and quite astoundingly beautiful, haloed with a fiery aura and looking for all the world like Lucifer incarnate, fucked Giles hard. Having never been inside Giles before, he seemed determined to make up for lost time, and there was fevered delight in his soot-black eyes. As the pleasure rippled through them both -- Giles as powerless to resist it as he was the magic that linked them -- corresponding waves rippled out through the surrounding field, and the lights began to flicker.

Giles could hear someone moaning, only dimly aware that it was his own voice. He was lost in the physical sensation of being taken, being fucked; the magic swirling through and around him, claiming him as much as Ethan was. All he could do was hold on, laid totally open to both.

And then Ethan was howling triumphantly and coming hard, and this like everything else was drawing an equal reaction from Giles. He felt his orgasm dragged from him forcibly.

It rushed over him with a power that couldn't be withstood, and took the world with it when it went away.

***

When Ethan awoke, the first thing he was aware of was the imminent likelihood of being sick, and he didn't want to vomit on poor Rupert whom he seemed to be lying on. Ethan was out of the door and halfway to the bathroom before he realised they'd been sleeping in the spare bedroom for some reason... then he remembered why.

Ethan nearly didn't make it to the bathroom in time.

Clinging to the toilet bowl, his body wracked with vicious spasms, Ethan was no more than half-aware of his physical condition. His mind was lost in the realisation of what he had done last night. Done to Rupert. Oh dear God, Rupert...

The thought seemed to summon the man, as the next thing he was aware of was Rupert kneeling beside him, helping to brace him against continuing spasms. It was not unlike how his lover had held Ethan during his convalescence, when his lungs had seemed ready to quit his body.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, so sorry..." he managed to get out before the retching started again. Rupert remained silent, but he held Ethan tighter. There was nothing left in his stomach; there hadn't exactly been much there in the first place. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat by the time his naked body collapsed back against Rupert's. Ethan felt frail and physically ill, but that was nothing compared to how he was feeling about himself.

Rupert shifted enough to reach up and get a cloth, wetting it in the sink. "Don't," he said softly as he rubbed it over Ethan's face.

Passively allowing himself to be tended to, not understanding why Rupert wanted to even touch him, Ethan shivered. "Don't?"

"I can practically hear you thinking. Don't. It was because of the magic -- both of ours."

"But... I..." Ethan had virtually raped Rupert, hadn't he? Agreed, his memories were a bit hazy...

"*Don't*," Rupert said again. "You weren't in control any more than I was."

What did Ethan remember? Doing the ritual, getting high as the bloody clouds... Rupert downstairs beneath him... his lover's magic a siren call. Then Rupert was outside the door, and Ethan was going to him, unable to resist touching him, deliberately calling to Rupert's magic with his own... Had he been in control of himself or not? Ethan had no damn idea. He whimpered and curled up against the other man.

Rupert wrapped him in his arms tightly. "Come on," he said after a moment, standing and pulling Ethan up with him. "The bathroom floor isn't where to have this conversation."

As Ethan was shivering with a chill caused by evaporating sweat, he could hardly argue. He let Rupert lead them both to the master bedroom, and the sheets of their shared bed had never felt so welcoming as he curled up under them. "I'm so sorry," he said again, his shock at his own actions not lessening at all.

"Apology accepted," Rupert said softly, pulling Ethan close again.

Desperate for comfort, Ethan went willingly and wrapped himself around his lover... but when he realised this action meant he was lying half on top of Rupert, Ethan froze.

"It's all right." If anything, Rupert's embrace tightened. "We're not going to let this change us."

"No, you're wrong. I... we have to change." Ethan wasn't sure where the words came from, but he knew them for truth as soon as he said them.

Rupert held him even tighter. "I'm not taking the chance of losing you," he said fiercely. "Not again."

"Which," Ethan said quietly, stroking Rupert's neck with soft fingertips, "Is why we have to change. We need help, Ripper."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," Rupert said after a moment's long silence. "Are you certain you know what you're asking?"

That was a good question. Was he? "Rupert, last night I nearly killed my Slayer then went on to... then did things to you that... If I can't change, I'd have to go... and God, then I might as well just... Without you, I can't..." He sighed, exasperated with himself. "Is talking about important things this difficult for everyone, or am I just blessed with a unique speech impediment?"

Rupert kissed him on his forehead. "You're doing fine." He kissed him again. "And whatever happens, I'm not letting you go. That's not a mistake I'm going to repeat."

Knowing his mouth must taste disgusting, Ethan didn't move in for a lips-to-lips kiss, much though he would have liked one. Especially before the next thing he seemed to feel compelled to say. "I need... I... Help would be appreciated. There's chaos and there's Chaos. You know that. My nature is what it is, but I could... I could try to move my alliance. Toward the more natural side of wild." He really couldn't believe he was saying that.

Rupert looked like he couldn't quite believe it either. "You'd be willing to do that?"

Ethan found the thought rather horrifying actually, but... "It has to be preferable to killing or abusing someone I care for. Rupert... don't hate me for saying this, please. But you need help too."

"The magic just got away from me last night," Rupert said. "Usually I can keep it locked..." He trailed off, looking at Ethan ruefully. "You're not buying any of this, are you?"

"I never have bought it, dearheart," Ethan replied gently. "Denying your power is like denying your sexuality or your intelligence. It's not altogether good for one's health, you know." He smiled wryly, but then sighed, feeling unsettled. "And I'm going to be a constant torment for you if you don't learn to stop being scared of who you are." He pressed a kiss into Rupert's neck. "I don't want to hurt you anymore."

He heard Rupert let out a sigh, as his body relaxed underneath Ethan. "All right," Rupert said. "The girls could probably use some time away to recover from last night anyway. I'll call Devon and see what I can arrange."

Ethan was very pleased Rupert had accepted the suggestion so well. Perhaps things were really going to be all right. "Ah, the infamous coven. Somehow I knew I'd end up there one day. Hmm... aren't they likely to blast me on sight?"

"You're coming to them asking for help. That makes a difference."

"I'll take your word for it." Ethan was feeling nervous already. Why exactly had he suggested this again? "I like the idea of the girls coming. I wouldn't want them staying here alone within reach of the walking Electra Complex."

"Nice one," Rupert complimented. "I may have to remember and use that."

Ethan chuckled, but sobered quickly, thinking of Megan. "We should go to the hospital... see if we can take her home."

"Yes." Rupert hesitated then asked, "Could you handle that alone? I don't want to keep her waiting, but I really do need to get my magic locked down again -- for now at least. I need some time alone to do that."

Ethan grimaced, nodding reluctantly. "I understand that the best way I can help you do that is by not being here. Rupert... did I... are you hurt at all?"

Rupert smiled, caressing Ethan's face. "I'm fine. A bit sore perhaps, but that's not necessarily unpleasant."

"We've never..." Ethan didn't want to verbalise it. He knew Rupert could fill in the blanks anyway. He watched his own finger draw circles on his lover's chest.

"No, we haven't." Rupert's hand covered Ethan's. "Wouldn't mind doing it again some time."

Ethan didn't know what he thought about that. He shifted about uncomfortably and eventually sat up. "I'll think about it," he said a little tensely. "I... I should get up then. I'm quite parched, Rupert. If I bat my eyelashes at you, would you make me a cuppa? While I shower?"

"Certainly." Rupert got up, clasping Ethan's shoulder as he stood. "And Ethan?"

Ethan turned to look at Rupert, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"You're coping fine."

***

Ethan patted his jacket over the top of the inside pocket, reassuring himself that the small package was still there. Then, taking a deep breath and drawing himself up straighter, he entered the small hospital room -- private thanks to the Council's BUPA account -- and smiled warmly at the girl sitting up in bed.

"Good morning, Megan. How's my fallen hero feeling today? Ready to get up again?"

"Ethan!" Megan's expression brightened immediately. "Are you here to take me home?"

"I certainly hope so." He shut the door and walked over to the chair by the bedside, pulling it a bit closer before sitting down. "The nurse says we need to wait for the doctor's say-so, but if he takes too long, I know a useful little cloaking spell... Seriously, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"It hurts if I move too fast, but it's not too bad." She smiled. "Got to love Slayer healing."

Ethan realised he was smiling at her in a way that could easily have been described as doting, and rubbed his face in embarrassment. "I nearly killed you trying to save you," he admitted quietly. He put his hand close to hers on the bed, but couldn't bring himself to touch skin to skin after yesterday. "I don't have words for how sorry I am. It... It won't happen again."

Megan's smile faded. "You're not... What do you mean by that? Exactly?"

Why was everyone so sure he was going to leave them? Didn't they realise that once Ethan loved something he could never give it up? Impulsively, Ethan overcame his fear and grasped his Slayer's hand. "I'm not going anywhere, Megan. Or at least I am, but you're coming too. We're all going to have a pleasant little holiday in Devon." He paused and then translated into American parlance. "Vacation, that is."

"Really?" She brightened again. "We're going to visit the coven?"

"Yes, all four of us. Maybe I'll be able find that elusive candy floss for you there."

"I don't know; I'm starting to think we may have to go back to the States to find some."

"I'll have you know the British invented candy floss, young lady," Ethan said in mock-outrage at her teasing. "We'll head to Torquay or someplace similar, and I'll prove to you beyond question of doubt that our teeth-rotting junk food is better than yours."

"Are we going to undertake exhaustive scientific studies?" she asked, sounding for all the world like she was serious, if not for the twinkle in her eye.

"No." Ethan grinned and sat back, separating their hands. "I am merely going to tell you the facts of the matter, and like the good weapon you are, you're going to believe every word I, as your Watcher, say." He reached into his pocket and drew out the small gift box he'd concealed, offering it to her. "Here's a little something to say sorry."

Megan took it, but didn't open it right away. Instead she met Ethan's eyes seriously. "Ethan, you do know that you saved me last night, don't you?"

He felt very uncomfortable. "Megan, you were unconscious. I was well meaning, yes, but I nearly killed you all the same. If Rupert hadn't been there..." He grimaced. "Just open it, will you? I haven't given anyone a present in over twenty years. It's making me a trifle nervous."

"You killed that... whatever it was. And Giles said that you're the one who knew the spell he used to save me. So if you hadn't been there last night, I might not be here now. And I am going to thank you for that, whether you like it or not." She gave him a stubborn look for a long moment before dropping her gaze to the present as she started unwrapping it.

Ethan tried very hard to pretend to himself that he wasn't petrified by any of this.

The wrapped gift box contained a discreet silver pendant on a chain. He'd picked it out for her earlier that morning at a small magic shop near Soho, which he'd used many times over the years. The pendant itself wasn't magical, although it was made from blessed silver. It was in the exquisitely crafted shape of an owl in flight.

Having unwrapped the box, Megan opened it, and froze for long enough to increase Ethan's worries.

"It's just a trifle," he said hurriedly. "Please don't feel obliged to wear it."

"It's beautiful," Megan breathed reverently, and Ethan felt a flood of relief. She looked up, then was leaning forward to hug him. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome," he said weakly, holding her tightly for a few seconds before relaxing his arms. "Just don't go nearly dying on me again, eh?"

"I'll do my best." She pulled back enough to hand the pendant to him. "Help me put it on?"

He nodded. "Turn around then." She did, collecting and lifting her long hair for him. Carefully, he strung the chain around her neck and fastened the clasp. "Now let me see how it looks."

Megan turned back, striking a pose. "Well?"

Ethan looked at the silver necklace then met her eyes, saying with utter sincerity, "It's you."

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