Title: Smoke and Mirrors 10/15
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.

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. God, he was tired. It seemed to him like he'd been sitting in the St Botolph's College reading room forever -- or at least long enough that the words had ceased to make sense and were beginning to swim on the page.

Any sane student, he told himself, would call it a night and go to bed. The idea certainly would have appealed to his tired mind -- if it were not for the dreams.

Ever since returning to Oxford, he'd worked harder than his fellow students, far harder than was necessary, driving himself into a nightly oblivion to try to forget, to try to make up for things he never could make up for.

But now he was beginning to wonder if he really shouldn't go to bed after all, as he rather thought he was beginning to hallucinate. The text on the open pages of Herrin's Accounts and Histories seemed to be rearranging itself into the lyrics of a well-known and obscene drinking song involving the Good Ship Venus and her unlikely crew.

He frowned and put his glasses back on, running his fingers over the words. If he didn't know better, he'd believe that this was....

Then the smell of burning tobacco reached him, absolutely forbidden in this Council college library of course, and an amused voice he thought he'd never hear again said, "Hello, Ripper."

Giles' feelings in that first moment were so mixed and so complicated that he truly couldn't decipher what they were. Somehow that made it easier to keep his voice level and distant when he asked, "What are you doing here, Ethan?"

The other young man slunk forward out of the shadows of the bookshelves. To Giles' surprise, Ethan was dressed comparatively plainly, and his hair was cut short and neat. There wasn't a trace of glitter on his face. "Ah, so cold. And there I thought you'd be glad to see me." Ethan inhaled deeply on his cigarette and slowly and deliberately looked around the library. "God, it's a wonder you're not dead from the boredom already."

The routine and order of Giles' studies might have been mind-numbing, but it was what he wanted -- needed; something that would be least likely to remind him of where he'd been and what he'd done before. Boring wasn't putting his friends and the world at risk. Boring was safe.

"At least I haven't killed anyone lately," he replied.

Ethan's face didn't show even the slightest emotional reaction to that remark. He studied Giles then exhaled a long stream of smoke. "Even Christ only carried his cross for a day, you know. I never realised you were so into hair-shirts."

"What I'm into is not repeating my mistakes." Giles bit back the next words, not wanting to rehash an argument that was never going to be resolved. Sighing, he asked, "What do you want, Ethan?"

"The glasses don't suit you, Ripper," Ethan said, apparently ignoring the question. He came forward and perched on the edge of Giles' small desk, carelessly pushing books and notes aside to do so. "They make you look dull."

"They make me able to see," Giles replied, leaning back in his chair in an effort to put more distance between them. Having Ethan this close was... unsettling.

Ethan smiled; it was a sly and cruel expression. "And what, pray, do you see now that you didn't before?"

Giles smiled back, the expression feeling stiff and wolfish. "Consequences."

Ethan exhaled parallel streams of smoke through his nostrils. "And that, my dear, is where Chaos wins hands down. The cause and effect chain is broken. I may be the cause, but some other poor bugger gets the effect."

Anger flared at that, all mixed up with guilt and loss and disappointment. "Oh, I'm well aware of that," he said coldly. "Almost as aware as Randall."

Giles thought he saw a brief flicker of pain in Ethan's eyes at that, but it was clearly his over-hopeful imagination, as the next thing out of Ethan's smirking mouth was, "Oh, I think you'll find Randall isn't aware of anything very much these days."

Giles reacted before the thought was fully formed to do so in his brain. He lunged out of his chair, his fist connecting with Ethan's face. Taken by surprise, Ethan fell from the desk to the floor in front of Giles' desk, obscured from full view. There was a muffled noise, which Giles eventually deciphered as laughter.

Drained, disgusted with both of them, and tired of not knowing what he was feeling, Giles started gathering up his notes and things in preparation to leave. "Go away, Ethan. It's obvious you haven't changed. There's nothing for you here."

Ethan's hand appeared on Giles desk and the man pulled himself up. A bright red line of blood was making its way down from one nostril and over Ethan's lips. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the scarlet. Giles was hit by a flash of memory -- Ethan's carefully applied lipstick smeared across his face after a rapacious kiss from the boy Giles used to be.

Ethan gazed down at the blood on his hand and laughed again. "It's warming to know how much you still want to lay your hands on me."

"Just go, Ethan," Giles said tiredly. "Go, so I don't hurt you again." The sight of his former lover bleeding at his hand was disturbing, especially since the feelings it elicited weren't entirely negative.

"Oh Ripper, you've long since lost the power to hurt me," Ethan claimed. "And I'm afraid I'm not ready to leave just yet. I put a lot of effort into getting through the wards your sodding Council's got on this place; the least you could do is stay and be entertaining for a little while."

Why had he even considered the notion that Ethan would make this easy? "Fine," Giles snapped, turning his back on Ethan and going back to gathering his things. "*I'll* leave."

"Very well. Be sure to take your favourite books with you. I'd hate to leave you deprived of your only friends when I set light to this place."

Giles froze. "You wouldn't." But even as he said it, he knew that Ethan was fully capable of carrying out the threat.

He heard Ethan move closer until the other young man was standing behind Giles. "Oh, I think I would. I know that fire magic was always your forte, but I've been studying too. You'd be amazed at how much damage a single Bronart's fire imp could do in a place like this. Well, perhaps more dismayed than amazed."

Giles spun around and grabbed Ethan, shoving him against the wall behind the desk. "You think I'm going to let you do that?"

Ethan automatically raised his hands to protect himself, but he made no attempt to get away. Licking his lips, he drawled, "I'm sure you could distract me if you tried hard enough." The taunt, the feel of Ethan pressed up against him, dear lord, even the way the man smelled, Giles could feel his body reacting to all of it.

He hadn't... not since he and Ethan had broken up; he'd done his best to turn off his libido as well as his emotions and his magic. But lust was coming alive again with a vengeance, an overpowering physical urge that had him grinding his sudden erection against Ethan with an angry growl.

Ethan's eyes flicked half-shut in response, and he moaned quietly, "Oh my Ripper..." And for that brief moment, Giles was in the past, when being with Ethan had been right -- *essential*. For that brief moment, he forgot the reasons why he'd left, and why this was about as wrong as it could get...

Then Ethan's eyes opened and shone with triumph as he gloated. "All those high and mighty morals, Ripper; it didn't take long to make you drop them, did it? I should've come visiting sooner." And that was all it took to remind Giles that this wasn't the past, and that if he didn't want to lose himself, the past had to remain just that.

Even so, it was difficult to let Ethan go, to step back and release the other man, to give up that contact. He didn't say anything at first, just turned and picked up his things and started for the door. Ethan might well burn the library down in retaliation, but at that particular moment, Giles couldn't bring himself to care about that. Not when it was his own soul that was on the line.

When he got to the door, he paused and told his own personal demon, "Don't come visiting again, Ethan. I don't want to see you." He couldn't refrain from adding, heartbroken as he was for both of them, a softly begged, "Please."

Then Giles left and didn't look back.

***

Ethan stood up and brushed the grass and other debris from his bare arse. Sitting down on the sun-warmed rock, he addressed the large black-feathered bird beside him. "Better than cable porn, eh?"

The crow cawed and fluffed its wings out. There was shimmer in the air around the bird, and Ethan sensed the shifting of the pattern as it reformed into Ian. The older man smiled sardonically at him. "I seem to have been using the wrong kind of motivations for you."

"I've really only had one motivation for a very long time," Ethan admitted, smiling fondly at the diminishing figure of Rupert, who was just leaving the far end of the field in order to fetch Ethan some clothing. Talking of which... Ethan looked Ian up and down. "The clothes don't change with you then," he remarked.

"Not without excessive complications, no." Ian glanced down at himself. "The only time that's a problem is when it's cold."

"I suppose you could just grow fur in those cases." Ethan felt inside himself, understanding immediately how he could make his light coating of human hair transform into thick animal fur. The transformation to a different species was harder to figure out. Perhaps if he just tweaked there, and then maybe there, and then --

"While I am quite delighted that you've finally made a breakthrough, I need to remind you that you must walk before you can run, or else you'll fall on your face."

Ian's tone was casual, but there was an edge about it that made Ethan immediately stop playing and undo what he'd just done to himself. "Very well," he agreed. "Are you going to hold my hands while I toddle then?"

"Metaphorically speaking, yes." Ian smiled. "I've grown rather fond of you, m'boy; I'd rather you stayed intact in mind and body."

Ethan raised and bent one of his legs, resting his foot on the rock and wrapping his hands around his knee. He was actually quite touched by Ian's words, but realised as a result that he now had to add another soul to the short but growing list of people Ethan cared about.

Bugger.

"So..." he started, hoping Ian would tell him what was required now.

"First off, anything that involves making changes in yourself or others is dangerous territory."

"Care to tell me why?" Ethan had been looking forward to a spot of shape-changing. Transmogrification had always been something of a speciality of his.

Ian leaned forward and held his gaze seriously. "Because if you don't take the proper precautions, you could end up stuck with the brain of... whatever it was you were about to turn yourself into."

"Oh." Ethan shivered, suddenly feeling a chill in the air. "Good job you were here to stop me then." He laughed nervously and looked towards the corner of the field, but really it was far too soon for his lover to be coming back. "What I did to Rupert -- was that dangerous too?"

"It could be. Push too far or too intensely and..." Ian trailed off meaningfully. "I would've stepped in before it got to that."

Oh, and wouldn't Rupert have loved that. Ethan sighed heavily, his high from his epiphany turning to glumness. He rested his chin on his knee and stared out across the meadow.

"Don't look so down," Ian told him, squeezing his shoulder. "I swear, sometimes I think you're on some sort of emotional bungee cord; you bounce back and forth so quickly. You've done the hard part; you learned to look at things a different way. The rest is all just acquiring knowledge and learning finesse."

Ethan frowned at his mentor; it wasn't as if Ethan was gnashing teeth and tearing his hair out, was it? The very most he could be accused of was pouting. "So presuming I don't actually want to maim or kill any loved ones today, what *is* safe for me to try?"

"For the moment? Focus on seeing the patterns, how they feel, where you can change them," Ian told him. "Focus on the basic elements... play a little if you like, but small changes, in small areas. Leave the living things alone for now, until we have time to go through it together."

"Who did this for you?" That was something Ethan had wondered about for a while.

"A very irritating and demanding old woman who never let me get away with anything. I fought her tooth and nail on everything -- made you look like Saint Francis of Assisi -- they probably heard our screaming matches in London." Ian smiled bittersweetly. "I miss her."

Ethan nodded, taking the admission seriously and feeling further touched by it. "Did you... Was there a Rupert for you?"

Ian looked away, but not before Ethan caught the flash of pain that went through the older man's eyes. "Once."

"Oh bugger, I'm truly sorry." Ethan forgot his own troubles and moved closer to Ian, putting his hand tentatively on the thin bare arm. "I shouldn't have asked."

"It's all right," Ian said, patting his hand and managing a ghost of a smile. "It... was a long time ago, but..."

"I'm sorry," Ethan said again, feeling a bit helpless. He couldn't imagine going on without Rupert now. If something happened to his lover... He swallowed and squeezed on Ian's arm a little, feeling the strong muscle and bone, but absolutely nothing in the way of fat. It made Ethan wonder how long Ian had wielded Chaos before giving it up.

"You're fortunate," Ian told him after a moment's silence. "Your Rupert was strong enough to leave before... Before he could become part of the price."

And suddenly, Ethan found things he'd believed most of his life turned on their head. Ripper leaving had been a... good thing. "Ian... I... How do you go on?"

Ian smiled, though the grief still hung around him like a palpable cloud. It had always been there, Ethan realised suddenly; he just hadn't noticed it before. "Because I have to, m'boy. Because I have to."

***

"So you finally took the stabilisers off then?"

Giles paused with his hand on the banister and one foot on the stairs to turn and look at Lucy, who was standing in the doorway to the sitting room. Even after the walk back to the house, his nerves were still tingling from what Ethan had done to him, and his unfettered magic was making everything seem brighter, louder, just more *there.*

"Go ahead, Lucy," he said, in too good a mood to let her get to him. "Get the gloating over with."

"I merely wished to congratulate you," she smiled. "And perhaps ask you to turn it down a notch or two."

"Ah..." Giles blinked and reached for the controls he used to have on his magic before he'd locked it away. Or, perhaps more accurately, the memory of such controls because when he reached for them, he grasped only fragments. "I don't think I can," he finally admitted.

Lucy nodded as if she'd expected something like that. "Come into my parlour then," she said with a chuckle. "I imagine it's been a fair while, but I'm sure you can pick up the basics again fast enough."

He hesitated, his duty to be responsible with his magic warring with his promise to Ethan to be right back. "Can it wait? I... ah... am actually in the middle of a... um... rather important errand."

"Ian's with Ethan, Rupert. You have time. This won't take long." She turned and walked back into the living room, clearly expecting him to follow.

The crow. Giles had been right; he most certainly didn't want to know the details. Trying not to dwell on the fact that he and Ethan had most likely had an observer earlier, Giles meekly followed Lucy.

She sat him down in an armchair and crouched in front of him as she had when casting the highly irritating bell spell upon him at the beginning of their stay here. With her hands held out, palm up, it was obvious what she wanted him to do.

"This isn't going to involve any bells or whistles is it?" Giles asked, even as he reached out his hands to allow her to take them.

"No, I thought we'd try foghorns today, being as you've made so much progress." There was just enough humour around her eyes to reassure Giles that Lucy wasn't serious. She was quiet for a while, her eyes unfocused, and Giles was aware of the delicate touch of her magic inside him. Then she blinked and smiled broadly. "You really have made huge strides, Rupert. I'm very pleased."

Giles flushed in pleasure at the compliment, even as he felt foolish for doing so. He was far too old to be reacting so to simple words of praise. "It... I didn't do it for me. I don't think I would have ever managed to take that risk if it had only been for me."

Lucy nodded. "Yes, the two of you are unusually interwoven. It was perhaps a mistake to tutor you quite so apart from one another. Ian and I have been discussing that, where possible, we should deal with you as a pair in future... There are dangers to this approach, however, and that's one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you."

"I'm listening," Giles said, immediately sliding into a more serious, businesslike mindset.

Keeping hold of his hands, Lucy exhaled audibly through her nose before she started to speak. "You and Ethan are already what we might as well call a bonded pair. That is a fait accompli and cannot be changed in any desirable way. Working your magic together will only make you more a part of each other. Now certainly there will be many good and productive aspects to this. But the danger I want you to understand is a serious one. Eventually, you could become the spiritual equivalent of Siamese twins."

Giles turned that over in his mind, weighing the good and bad, what they had now versus what they could end up with. There was a very great chance that the type of permanent merging that Lucy was talking about would indeed happen; even in the old days, the way their magics had merged had been... extraordinary. So it would be prudent to accept this future spiritual blending as a fact, instead of just a possibility.

The question then became was it one that they wanted to live with? "What exactly would that sort of outcome mean for us?" he asked, wanting some more information before trying to answer.

"In most serious cases of Siamese twins, they cannot be separated and both survive."

He'd expected something of that sort and filed the knowledge away. "Are we talking a need for physical proximity? Or...?"

Lucy shifted, clearly growing uncomfortable in her crouch, and settled into a cross-legged position on the floor, Giles' hands released for the time being. "Well, you'll be less and less happy apart, that's for certain, but the most extreme cases that I've seen of this sort of thing involved... well, excessive forms of suicide, not unlike how young Willow reacted to her girlfriend's death."

Giles frowned. "So if one of us died, the other would go insane and try to destroy the world?"

"I said that was the most extreme possibility. If you know the risk, if you are prepared, the world will be safe. However, the more interwoven you become, the more likely the death of one of you will be closely followed by the death of the other."

"I... This is something I'll have to discuss with Ethan before any decision is made." Giles suspected that it might be a fait accompli already because unless Ethan and he separated totally, there was going to be some unintentional sharing of magic no matter how careful they were. But to actively court such a condition... that wasn't something he could decide alone.

"Of course." Lucy nodded, and held out her hands again. "So in the meantime let's work on the art of dropping a shout to a whisper, shall we?"

"Right," he said, taking her hands again. "Wouldn't want to keep you up at night or anything."

Lucy's thumbnails pressed painfully into Giles' palms for a fraction of a moment, just long enough for him to understand that she'd understood his little jibe, then she relaxed, and her eyes unfocused again. "Follow what I do," she instructed. "I'll do it a few times then you can try it for yourself."

"All right." Giles closed his eyes, better to concentrate on what she was doing. It seemed simple enough and vaguely familiar; he had, after all, had to maintain controls back in the old days. It just seemed as if what he was trying to contain now was substantially more than it had been then.

The barriers Lucy was imposing were much subtler than the process of completely locking down his power that Giles had grown used to. This was more akin to soothing his magic into a gentle sleep than locking it kicking and screaming into a closet.

After running through the procedure a few times, she said, "Now, you try."

It took several tries for him to manage something workable; he'd spent so many years essentially manhandling his magic that it took considerable effort and concentration to keep his touch light enough.

When he'd finally managed the process to Lucy's satisfaction, she released his hands and stood up. "That will do nicely for now. We can work on a more subtle touch tomorrow. You've both had considerable success today, and I suggest you spend the evening celebrating, while Ethan is still well enough to enjoy it."

"About that," Giles began, needing to bring up the subject one more time, something in him refusing to accept the answer he'd been continuously given. "There's got to be some way to--"

Lucy rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Rupert, do you want Ethan to live into a ripe old age?"

"Of course. But--"

"But nothing." She frowned deeply at Giles. "This is the best way we know of trying to ensure his long and healthy life. While allowing him to become so ill is obviously not without risks, it's considerably less risky than either permitting him to continue masking the damage with Chaos, or to in some way attempt to force the Chaos from his system. You know this. I've told you countless times already. You need to stop being such a wimp about it and be strong for him."

Giles frowned. "I don't consider being concerned that a loved one might suffer needlessly is being a wimp," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. It didn't matter. Even to his own ears, he still sounded like he was sulking.

"Well then, you'd better fetch him some clothes." Her eyes twinkled as she offered Giles a hand up.

At this point, Giles wasn't even surprised that Lucy knew the exact nature of his errand. Letting her pull him to his feet, Giles took the chance to make his exit before she could prove exactly how much she knew about what he and Ethan had been up to.

Lucy was right about one thing; this wasn't the time to dwell on future crises. With everything that had happened today, they deserved some time to savour and reflect. With that in mind, Giles put aside his concerns over Ethan's health for now and went upstairs to collect the aforementioned clothes.

This accomplished, Giles headed back to the meadow where he'd left Ethan talking to a crow... who apparently was Ian. And Giles wasn't going to dwell on that fact too much for his sanity's sake. As he walked through the gate to the meadow with the bundle of garments under his arm, Giles could see Ethan sitting by himself on the rock at the far end of the field.

His lover had a slightly unhappy appearance, sitting meekly with his legs together and clasped hands resting on top of them. But as Giles drew closer, Ethan stood up and grinned in welcome. "It's a good thing there wasn't a sudden cold snap. Did you lose the key to our door?"

"I had to placate the gatekeeper before I was allowed upstairs," Giles replied, handing over the clothes. "Lucy insisted on an impromptu tutoring session."

"I hope she at least said well done," Ethan remarked, as he fastened his trousers.

"Congratulations were offered, yes. I assume that Ian was equally pleased?"

"Yes," Ethan confirmed, buttoning his shirt. "Although I was given a convincing warning not to fly too close to the sun." Ethan walked closer and slipped his arms around Giles' waist.

"Had plans to play Icarus, did you?" Giles asked softly, wrapping his arms around his lover in return, relishing the closeness.

"More like Reynard actually." Ethan paused and seemed uncomfortable, then he said, "Rupert, I've got something I need to say, and I may never have the courage to acknowledge it again..."

There was a seriousness to Ethan's voice that Giles reacted to, tightening his embrace as he said, "I'm listening."

Ethan's eyes closed in a grimace, and Giles could feel the tension in the other man's body. Finally, the dark eyes opened again, meeting his, and Ethan said quietly, "You were right to leave me."

The memory of that time and all of the mixed feelings and uncertainty he'd experienced flashed through Giles' mind. He'd told himself over the years that leaving had been the only thing he could have done, but the expression that had been on Ethan's face in the cemetery would always haunt him. "What brought this on?" he asked, brushing fingers lightly over his lover's cheek.

"Something Ian said," Ethan acknowledged, then smiled raggedly. "Do me a favour, would you dearheart? Don't die. Or at least warn me in advance so that I can go with you."

Giles leaned in and kissed him, sensing the genuine distress behind the smile. "Actually, there's something we need to talk about," he said, thinking that he probably wasn't going to get a better lead in.

"Oh goody, more existential angst, I hope?" Ethan asked sarcastically, but then rolled his eyes and said, "Sorry. Shall we sit down then?"

"This is something I think you're going to like." Giles sat down on the ground, leaning back against the stone, pulling Ethan down beside him. "Even the drawbacks, well... perhaps I better start at the beginning."

Settling closely against Giles, Ethan chuckled slightly and prompted, "Once upon a time there was..."

Giles chuckled too. "Not quite that far back. Lucy was saying that she thought it might be better if you and I worked together with the magic from now on. Although if we do so, there's a high likelihood there's going to be some... melding."

"Melding?"

"The term she used was 'spiritual Siamese twins.'"

Ethan was silent. When Giles turned to look at him, Ethan shrugged. "I'm rather thinking I'm already that emotionally. I'm not sure how much difference adding a spiritual dimension to the bond will realistically make. Are you... um, don't you want to do it then?"

"To tell the truth, I'm rather intrigued by the possibilities." Giles smiled. "Considering some of the experiences we've had in the past, it's bound to be interesting."

Ethan's head was bent, and his voice was so quiet that Giles only just heard him say, "You wouldn't be able to leave again."

Giles leaned in, resting his head briefly against Ethan's. "I don't think I could regardless."

There was more silence from his lover, and Giles got the impression that Ethan was considering all the implications of what he'd just been told. Then Ethan straightened and reached out for Giles' furthest hand, holding it up, palm to palm and fingers interwoven. "It's agreed then? 'Til death and all that?"

"Agreed," Giles said softly, holding Ethan's gaze, feeling everything that was represented by the one word.

Ethan's expression utterly failed to hide the strong emotions he was clearly experiencing. Giles watched his lover's mouth open and shut a few times before Ethan seemed to give up on words and leant forward for a kiss. As their lips met, Giles felt a surge of Ethan's magic through their linked hands, calling for his own.

Releasing the controls he'd put on his magic with Lucy, Giles sent a surge of his own down through his fingertips to meet and mix with Ethan's.

Unlike previous experiences of their magic merging, this one was not sexual, although Giles realised it could easily become so with just a nudge here or there. Ethan's lips stilled their movements, and the pair of them sat motionless for an indefinable amount of time, lost in their combined spell, linked hand to hand, magic to magic, spirit to spirit...

It was a sublime experience; it felt *right* in a way that very few things had ever felt. Any doubts that might have been hiding in the corners of Giles' mind melted away in the face of this rightness like snow under a spring sun.

This was what Giles was meant to do, part of his destiny as much as being Watcher to Buffy had been. The next step on the path that he was meant to take.

One that he wouldn't be travelling alone. Not anymore.

***

(tbc)