Title: Sleight of Hand 2/14
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 Smoke and Mirrors
Summary: It's behind the scenes where things get complicated.

Author Notes: Many thanks to Mad Poetess and Wesleysgirl for betaing :) This is the third story in the Of Old Mystics series; previous stories in the series can be found http://www.myarseisnotpansy.co.uk/piedm/mystics.html.

"So what dubious establishments are you thinking of visiting with our pseudo-daughters?" Ethan asked Xander, his eyebrow raised inquisitively.

The young American was taking Megan and Kat out for a night on the town, or they were taking him, it wasn't clear which. Ethan and Rupert also intended an evening out, possibly of a somewhat romantic nature, by themselves. But first, all five of them had gathered at Rupert's Council townhouse -- which Ethan presumed he'd have to start thinking of as his own also -- for a spot of light dinner.

The plates from said dinner were currently being washed up by Kat and Rupert in the small kitchen. In the living room, Ethan was enjoying a glass of wine with Xander, who would probably have preferred beer, but Ethan hadn't offered. Mainly because he wasn't sure how well the American would handle his and Rupert's specialist bitters and ales.

Megan was wisely sticking with fresh apple juice.

Xander cleared his throat before answering. "Well, after some fun games of let's try to fool the poor out-of-towner into taking us to--" He began to count things off on his fingers. "One, gay clubs; two, a lesbian strip joint; three, a very adult, and oh yes, *gay* play... we finally came to a mutual agreement regarding the latest Jude Law movie. Which, come to think of it, is probably a nice English costume drama all about two young men who happen to like each other a teensy bit too much."

Megan, who Ethan knew had come out to Xander earlier in the day, emitted a noise that even Ethan had to admit sounded like a repressed giggle, and Xander smacked his hands over his face.

"We're just trying to further our education," Megan said with wide-eyed innocence.

"Megan, be kind to the nice heterosexual," Ethan told her. "He can't help what he is." Xander opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again, and Ethan took pity on him. "Cheer up, mate. I'm still the minority in this room, not you."

"How'd you figure that one out?" Xander asked, obviously perplexed.

Ethan smiled at him. "I'm the only one who likes men?"

Xander nodded slowly. "I see. You're presuming a lot there, Eth."

Ethan cringed at the abbreviation of his name. "Why do you say that, *Xan*?"

"Maybe I'm... y'know. Like Giles. Apparently. And may I say, there was no sign of that *ever* in Sunnydale. Well, except for when you were around. Possibly."

Rolling his eyes, Ethan replied dryly. "If you can't even say 'bisexual', forgive me if I doubt that you are one."

"I could be," Xander insisted.

"Megan?" Ethan asked, without taking his eyes from the young man. "Would you be a love and pass Xander the book Ian gave me for my birthday?" Megan giggled, then quickly schooled her expression back into something innocent again as she reached for the book and handed it over.

Xander opened the book, seeming cautious. Ethan watched the man's eyes widen at the first picture he looked at. "Mmm-mm," Xander said, as if he liked what he saw, but his body posture and the tension in his face said otherwise to Ethan. "Naked butted goodness suitable for every coffee table."

"Try page 32," Ethan suggested. He'd picked the number at random, but that didn't matter.

Xander started turning with obvious reluctance to the page, but Rupert came in from the kitchen just then, took one look at what was occurring and cleared his throat. Loudly. Xander gave a guilty start and quickly put the book down.

Rupert smiled a little smugly. "It's nice to see the old reflexes are still there."

Xander laughed. "Was I always that obvious? No, don't answer. I think I want to remain happily ensconced in denial land for that, and gotta say, so many other things currently."

"Considering the number of times I had to pretend not to hear or see things regarding your sex life, you can look at it as just retribution," Giles replied with a faint smile, moving to sit beside Ethan on the couch. Xander's answering smile seemed a little sad, and Ethan made a mental note to ask Rupert about the young man's history later on.

Kat came bounding in, wiping her hands dry on her jeans, and as there wasn't a spare comfy chair left, she perched on the arm of Xander's, and not, Ethan noticed, Megan's. He decided he was going to have a quick word with the girl before she went out tonight.

"Well, this is nice," he said, smiling around at everyone. "Very wholesome. All we need now are marshmallows and songs around the campfire."

Xander perked up at that. "I see you've got the old guitar on display there, Giles. Is that how you've been keeping all the girls in line? With your magic oestrogen-inducing tonsils?"

Kat and Megan exchanged looks, then as one looked at Giles.

"You sing?" Kat asked, watching him avidly.

Rupert seemed taken aback. "Well, I..."

"He doesn't just sing, my dears," Ethan assured them, standing up and walking over to the far wall. "And it isn't just oestrogen levels that increase upon hearing him." He carefully picked up the guitar and carried it back to Rupert, smirking happily at him. "Time to create some more adoring fans."

Rupert gave him a look, not reaching out to take the proffered guitar. "I don't think--"

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Very well. *I'll* sing then, shall I?" He sat down on the edge of the sofa and pretended to tune up the guitar.

He'd barely touched the strings before Rupert was taking it from him. "You've many talents, love," Rupert told him. "Singing isn't one of them."

No, but manipulating recalcitrant husbands into doing what Ethan wanted them to do apparently was. He grinned at Rupert, who was busy repairing any imaginary damage Ethan might have caused to the tuning, then addressed the potential audience. "Any requests, girls or boy?"

"Know anything by Nickelback?" Kat asked, which mysterious request prompted Xander to laugh.

"I'm thinking I'm requesting the golden sound of silence," he said cheekily.

"Yeah," Megan said, perking up and taking Xander seriously. "My mom listens to Simon and Garfunkel all the time, and that's one of her favourites."

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" Rupert asked, glancing sideways at Ethan.

Ethan looked back. "Why on earth wouldn't I?" The dirty look Rupert sent him then clearly said that he'd been expecting Ethan to get him out of this and would take suitable revenge later. Ethan giggled and put his hand to his mouth to cover it.

Everyone was watching Rupert intently, the girls leaning forward on the edge of their seats. They all went quiet as they waited for Rupert to start.

Clearly seeing there was no graceful way out, Rupert sighed, and plucked a few notes on the guitar before launching into the song, the Sound of Silence.

It was, of course, beautiful. The powerful lyrics of Paul Simon became something haunting and almost frightening when expressed in Rupert's poignant and sensitive tones.

Ethan felt emotions welling up inside him as the song progressed. He moved on the sofa, pulling his legs up and crossing them. He wanted to touch his lover, but satisfied himself with just a gentle stroke of his socked toes against Rupert's thigh.

At times like this, the love Ethan felt for his husband -- which word, in this case, he was using in his thoughts in all seriousness -- was overwhelming. He wanted to look around the room and say 'See? And he's mine. All mine.' But he didn't, as apart from anything else, he couldn't look away, not while Rupert was still singing.

The song reached the penultimate verse, and Rupert's voice lowered, becoming almost angry, and the chords from the guitar grew off-key and sinister. "'Fools' said I, 'you do not know silence like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach you. Take my arms that I might reach you.' But my words like silent raindrops fell and echoed in the wells of silence."

And suddenly, Ethan felt as he had during their last full day in Devon, in the house of Keri, the seer. The room seemed to darken and grow chill and a shiver ran through Ethan, and without thinking, he raised his hand to cover his mouth, as if to stop himself crying out.

The song returned to a more comfortable sound for the last verse, and the room felt friendlier by the time the last note died, but Ethan was shaken.

Rupert smiled shyly when he finished, and the girls both clapped enthusiastically. He glanced at Ethan, and his expression immediately grew worried with whatever he saw on Ethan's face.

"What is it?" he asked putting the guitar aside and reaching out for Ethan.

"Not here," Ethan muttered in Rupert's ear as he accepted the cuddle. "Later, when we're out." He pulled back and gave Rupert what he hoped was a dazzling grin. "You took my breath away, dearheart. That was... beautiful." He turned to the girls. "Well, didn't I tell you?"

"It was awesome!" Kat enthused. "You could totally win American Idol. If you were, y'know, American."

"She's right," Megan agreed. "You could be a big star. That was way better than my mom's album."

As Xander hadn't commented, everyone now turned to look at him. "What?" he asked defensively, holding up his hands. "It was, you know, old guy singing. Guitar. Nice, um, fret work."

"Bisexual, my arse," Ethan muttered under his breath.

"Thank you," Rupert said with a smile, his gaze taking in all of them. "But really it's just a hobby. I have no intention of giving up my day job."

Ethan looked at the clock. "Hmm, I want to freshen up before we leave, so if you'll all excuse me..." He rose to his feet after giving Rupert's leg a little squeeze. After walking to the stairs, he turned and added, "I'm sure you won't get up to any mischief while I'm gone, but perhaps, girls, you might like to entertain Xander with one of my birthday tapes?"

Smirking, he headed up the stairs.

***

Much to Giles' amusement, Ethan's 'birthday porn' quickly chased Xander out of the room, and indeed, the house. Giles found the younger man out in the back garden looking at the stars.

He glanced over and smiled as Giles came out. "I'm trying to figure out how to describe all this to the Buffsome one," he said quietly.

Giles smiled back. "I think I'd like to hear what you come up with."

"So far, I'm not doing so good. Giles..." Xander stopped, looking pained.

"You know you can talk to me about anything," Giles urged gently, having an idea of what turn their conversation was about to take.

The young man shuffled nervously on his feet, but he met Giles' eyes. "Why didn't you tell us? That you were, well... that you like to drink from both sides of the teacup."

Giles put his hands in his trouser pockets and gave a half-shrug. "The subject never came up. It's not like I was even... drinking from the one side of the teacup very much back in Sunnydale. I hadn't... turned the cup around in quite a long time."

Xander chuckled at that. "Worthy attempt with my crap metaphor there." His chuckle faded into a sigh, and he rubbed under his eye patch. "So... you and Ethan..."

"Yes. Me and Ethan." He glanced at Xander and asked carefully, "Does that bother you?"

"Well, on a wiggage scale from one to ten, I'd say I was pretty much into triple figures here. But, um, it's not so much the other side of the cup thing. More, well..."

"That it's Ethan."

Xander nodded and turned to face Giles. "I mean, wasn't he the wannabe big-bad who kept turning Sunnydale into his own version of Murderworld? And didn't his little tricks nearly get people killed -- nearly get *us* killed -- and more than once? What am I missing here, Giles? Because there's gotta be something I'm not seeing."

"He's changed." It was the truth, but Giles realised that it was a less than convincing sounding argument. "He's given up Chaos worship, which is akin to kicking a heroin habit."

"And so all is forgiven? God, it's like Buffy with Spike all over again." Xander shoved his fingers through his hair. "And yeah, I know, I'm skipping down the hypocrite road here. And it's none of my business. And you guys seem happy. And... arrghh. People are worried about you, Giles."

Giles grimaced. "I know. But..." Hard as it was, he tried to explain his feelings. "This is something I've wanted for longer than I realised until it was standing in front of me. I don't think I could give it up now, even if I wanted to. And yes, all is forgiven -- as much as it is for Willow. Or for myself. You can't pick and choose who you think is deserving of a second chance, Xander."

Xander gave him a very earnest look, almost beseeching. "But we do, don't we? All the time. Otherwise how could we ever get with the slaying? Seems to me, we forgive the people we love and need, and the rest we pile on that handbasket to Hades. And is that so wrong? I really can't tell anymore."

"There has to be the desire to change, the acceptance of a second chance. We 'get with the slaying' when those two conditions don't exist." He paused and then added softly, "And Ethan meets your criteria -- at least for me."

"So the rings...?"

Giles pulled his hands from his pockets and looked down at the ring that caught the moonlight on his left hand, not at all surprised that Xander had noticed it. "The rings are a symbol of commitment."

"I had a ring once that I was supposed to wear on that finger. It came -- or would have come -- with vows. Lifetime vows."

"So does this one." Giles found himself self-consciously running a finger over the ring as he replied. "They may have been spoken privately, but they were spoken."

Xander was quiet for a while after that, returning his gaze to the night sky. "Ok," he said eventually, uncharacteristically terse.

That was probably the best that Giles could hope for, for now. Whole-hearted and enthusiastic acceptance would only come with time, if ever.

"So," Giles said, changing the subject. "How are things back in the States?"

Xander looked back at Giles again. "Things seem pretty settled. I'm still the travelling-man, of course, following the leads your seers send me, so I don't get to party with the others as much as I'd like. Dawn came along with me for a while over the summer break, and that was much of the good. She'll make a great Watcher if she decides on that route."

"Indeed." Giles smiled. "She's shown a remarkable aptitude for languages. Give her a few more years, and she'll read more than I do."

"You're not kidding. She and Andrew keep bugging the others by talking in Klingon when they wanna be, well, cryptic. They're kinda scary together. Buffy worries about what they're getting up to with the big dusty tomes and the habit both of them have for inviting trouble in the front door."

"Well, hopefully not living on a Hellmouth will at least reduce the chances of trouble walking in the front door," Giles said wryly.

"Speaking of which, the Slayer rotation thingy in Cleveland seems to be working out well. And anyway, that place is no Sunnydale. They just don't make Hellmouths like they used to." Xander grinned. "Faith's the Slayer-in-charge there currently, and when I called in on my way to Detroit, she claimed to be bored to tears. Only, um, she used more Faith-y words, which I'll leave to your able imagination."

"Yes, thank you. From the reports I've been getting you've all been doing admirably." He glanced at Xander. "Especially you."

Xander immediately looked down at his feet, clearly embarrassed by the praise. "I'm, um, doing my humble best. It's good work, and opportunities don't exactly roll in for a one-eyed man who didn't do the college thing. I know I'm not a 'true' Watcher, like the lady said, but, well, I appreciate the faith you're showing in me, Giles." He looked up at the end, meeting Giles' gaze, showing his sincerity.

"We're lucky to have you," Giles told him with all honesty. "Francesca's opinion is not held by everyone -- or even a majority. You're far more what a Watcher should be than she will ever be. And you can ask any of the Slayers whom they would rather have as a Watcher, and I guarantee that to a one they'd pick you."

Xander gave a small self-effacing grin and said with humour in his voice, "I've always had a way with the ladies... well, those ladies not strictly human anyway."

It wasn't any of his business, but Giles asked anyway. "Have you been... dating?"

Snorting, Xander turned and patted Giles on the back for a reason not obvious to the older man. "That would require actually being in the same place for longer than a few weeks at a time. And, you know, not being constantly accompanied by nubile young superheroes would be a help too. Not that I'm complaining. Oh no, big with the not-complaining here."

Giles found himself smiling at this typical example of Xander babble; he never realised how much he missed that sort of thing until he was listening to it again. "So what was all that bisexual talk about earlier?"

Xander cringed in an exaggerated fashion. "You heard that?"

"I heard Ethan's latter comments. Is there something you want to tell me, Xander?"

"Um, other than I say stupid things when I feel threatened? Um, no, not really." Xander was still cringing.

Giles had rather figured as much; even now, Ethan was at his most predatory when he was feeling insecure. "You know, you make Ethan as nervous as he makes you."

Xander's expression was disbelieving. "What, with the way I blatantly flaunt my heterosexuality and the whole lack of magic or superpowers, you mean? Yeah, that's me, a real in-your-face kinda guy."

"He knows that I consider you family," Giles said, wondering if he'd ever before put his feelings for Xander so plainly. "That makes you considerably daunting to him."

Xander opened his mouth and took a breath to speak, but then paused. Finally, he gave Giles a shy smile. "Um, thank you."

Giles clasped the younger man's shoulder. "Just the truth. And probably one I should have put words to long ago."

"You know it's mutual, right? I mean, for all of us, not just me. But for me too, 'cause I'm part of that 'us'. Um, obviously I guess, as otherwise it would a 'them' and not an 'us' and the whole, erm... I'll just be shutting up now."

"I do know," Giles replied with a small smile. "But thank you for saying it."

The backdoor opened, and Ethan's voice called softly across the small lawn. "It's seven-thirty, dearheart, and much though I don't want to interrupt this sweet bonding scene you've clearly got going on, we need to get moving if we want to be there on time."

Giles looked at Xander wryly. "Apparently, we're supposed to be done now."

"I'm in England for a while, until the big meeting at least. There'll be other 'now's." Xander moved back from Giles and turned to look at Ethan, who was emerging from the doorway and lounging over toward them.

Giles noticed quickly that his lover seemed to have gone to particular pains to appear well-groomed for their evening out together. And for the first time in recent memory, Ethan was wearing makeup. Oh, not much, just a bit of eyeliner and maybe some colour on his cheeks, but it was enough to make Giles harken back to the old days.

"You're looking... nostalgic," he said to his lover, holding out a hand to Ethan as he approached.

"It seemed appropriate." Ethan's lips were curled in a slight smirk. He took Giles' hand and kissed him on the cheek before turning to smile at Xander. "Enjoying the evening smog?"

"Smog?" Xander said, looking around. "I can see stars!"

"Oh, don't let the Christmas tree lights fool you. They're not real." Ethan was clearly in one of his more surreal moods.

"Let me apologise for Ethan," Giles said to Xander, squeezing Ethan's hand. "He takes great pleasure in spinning tales."

"I'm an artist," Ethan claimed. "Making the world a prettier place." Xander turned to look at Ethan, and his expression froze briefly before he looked away again. "Say it, Xander," Ethan said in a kindly tone. "I don't mind, and I won't let Rupert mind."

"Um, I don't think so."

Ethan gave Giles a quick look, which seemed to be saying 'I'm trying', before continuing to talk to Xander. "Is it that bad? I was rather trying to avoid the Quentin Crisp look."

"I'm sure it's fine," Xander said, daring to look again. "I mean, how the hell would I know? It's just... well, you're going out with Giles. And he..."

"*He's* been drinking from that side of the teacup for longer than you've been alive," Giles said gently. "Even if I didn't drink much tea at all for a while. It's all right, Xander."

"And I'm the tale-spinner?" Ethan laughed. "So exactly which side of a teacup is the gay side then?"

"The side with the lipstick marks?" Xander offered.

Ethan smirked at him. "A lot of gay men would be offended by that, you know. But myself, I like it. Of course, I'm not the only man here to have worn makeup. Shall we go, Rupert?"

"Have fun with the girls," Giles said to Xander as he let Ethan drag him off.

Xander's scandalised voice followed him as he walked in the backdoor. "You wore makeup?"

NEXT