Title: Charades 15/24
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 Sleight of Hand
Summary: Searching for meaning in the signs and symbols of life.

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.

"Alone at last," Giles said dryly, as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

Ethan's answering smile was rather lacklustre; it had been a long and stressful evening for him. He sat down on the bed and sighed.

"You did well tonight," Giles told him.

True to his word, Ethan hadn't apologised to Jade, but he had asked Xander to see her home after bluntly giving instructions for a long soak in the bath and a change of clothes. Buffy and Dawn had left quietly with Xander. Ethan had disappeared for some time into the study with Megan, while Giles rescued Gwydion from the bedroom and put together something approaching tea.

Giles wasn't sure what Ethan had said to Megan, but it had been clear during their meal that tension was eased, and after the two of them had taken Gwydion for his evening walk and returned, they were laughing and joking together again, which was a relief.

Ethan's smile now seemed slightly warmer. "I tried."

"Told you you could do it." Giles crossed over and sat down beside Ethan on the bed.

Ethan immediately turned and wrapped his arms around Giles, wearily slumping against him. "I would very much like to be in bed with you."

Giles slid his arms around Ethan in turn with a sigh, soaking up the feel of his presence. "I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be right now."

Eyes closed, Ethan moved his face towards Giles like a blind kitten seeking the teat. "Please," he breathed.

Unable to resist, even if he had wanted to, Giles kissed him, first light and teasing, but quickly growing deep and heated.

Ethan moaned, the sound resonant with need. He wriggled on the bed to get closer to Giles, his hands moving urgently on Giles' chest, legs, back... anywhere Ethan could reach.

Laughter bubbled up as Giles continued to kiss Ethan. "Easy, love," he murmured, trying to calm him between kisses. "I'm not going anywhere."

When Ethan pulled back, his expression was intense. "If you want me to go slow, Rupert, you'd better restrain me."

"Do you want me to?"

He looked almost pained. "I just want you. Urgently. Christ, Ripper. Please."

The thought of losing himself in Ethan definitely was more than a little appealing to Giles just then. "How fond are you of those clothes?"

Ethan looked down at himself as if he'd never seen the garments before. "I'm really not."

Grinning and feeling what Ethan would dub as Ripperish, Giles ran his hands along Ethan's garments and murmured the familiar Latin, causing them to fall away, their stitches unravelled.

He watched as Ethan, still looking down at his own body, shuddered, causing the strips of now useless cloth to drop to the bed and floor. Then suddenly Ethan was moving, getting up on his knees on the bed and pretty much throwing himself at Giles.

Giles felt his mouth covered and a hard, desperate tongue thrust inside.

That would be difficult to resist at the best of times, and Giles didn't even try. He wrapped his arms around Ethan's body and lost himself in his lover.

Without breaking the lock on Giles' mouth, Ethan scrabbled over him, straddling. Giles' position on the edge of the bed was too precarious to easily support him with his writhing lover thrusting against him, and Giles' hands were too busy running over Ethan's body to prop his own. So it was no surprise to find himself falling backwards onto the covers, Ethan following him down, lips still fiercely kissing.

The way Ethan was going, this could be over very quickly. Trying to gain some control and slow them down enough to make it good for both of them, Giles rolled over so that Ethan was underneath him. His naked lover squirmed, wrapping his arms and legs around Giles and pushing up as he made impatient noises into the kiss.

Giles pulled away enough to speak and to grab Ethan's arms and pin them to the bed over his head. "Guess you're right," he said, slipping unconsciously back into the way of speaking he'd had in his youth. "I do have to restrain you."

Ethan stared intently up at Giles, his breathing pronounced. "Please, just for these few minutes, let me be free." He sounded like he was refusing to be bound, but Giles knew Ethan and knew what he was asking for.

Not wanting to leave Ethan even for the short time it would take to find appropriate physical restraints, Giles used his magic to encircle Ethan's wrists and hold his arms pinned to the bed. "Better?"

Ethan nodded and closed his eyes. "Please. I need you. I've needed you all day, so very badly."

With another few words of Latin, Giles turned the light off the lazy way. He then lowered his body until he was lying flush against Ethan; the only thing separating them were the clothes he still wore. He initiated another long lingering kiss, channelling his magic into the action so that it poured into Ethan with every little movement.

Ethan, surprisingly, remained very still, kissing back of course, but not squirming or rubbing or otherwise trying to speed up events. The kiss and the magic seemed to be soothing him. So Giles continued on with just that for quite a while, in no hurry if Ethan wasn't.

After all, they had all night.

Or rather they had what was left of the night, Giles thought, when Ethan stirred beneath him, and he realised they'd both been asleep for some time.

"Rupert...?" came a rather querulous complaint. "My arms hurt, and I'm cold all down my sides."

"Sorry, love." He quickly released the magical restraints and got Ethan under the covers. "That wasn't exactly the seduction I had planned."

Ethan cuddled near, seeking warmth, slipping his arms under Giles' clothes. "It was enough, for then."

Giles pulled him close with a contented sigh. "Good. Not like kissing you is a chore."

Ethan nuzzled closer still, and said, "It's probably best we waited, anyhow."

"Oh?" Giles asked, sensing that there was more than just a need for sleep behind that observation.

"Made you a promise last night," Ethan said sleepily. "Best I keep it before... well, just before."

It took a few seconds to remember what promise Ethan was referring to. "You have something to tell me?" he finally asked softly when he did.

He felt Ethan nod against him. "Something that happened yesterday. Well, a lot happened actually, all of which I should tell you about. Including a couple of things I'm pleased with myself over and hope you will be as well. But..." Ethan sighed heavily. "Something bad too."

"You know you can tell me anything," Giles encouraged, his hands automatically moving over Ethan's skin in an effort to soothe him.

"Do you want the whole story or just the me buggering it up again part?"

"The whole story?" Giles asked, hoping to make Ethan feel less like he was doing a strange sort of confession in the darkness here.

Another nod. "Well, we went to P&G Holdings and discovered there was no one there. In order to break in, I used the ventilation shafts. They were narrow. I, um, turned myself into a fox."

Giles couldn't help but frown. "Are you all right?" he asked, his hands running over his lover's body again.

"I'm fine. It went well. I won't say I wasn't nervous, but it wasn't anything like the last time. I think with a little more practice I could actually enjoy the shape, like Ian does his crow." Ethan paused, then pointed out as if fact, "That bothers you."

"It worries me a little," Giles admitted, remembering finding Ethan as a fox on the Heath. He found himself tightening his embrace a little more. "Vivid first impressions."

"I'm sorry." Ethan pressed the side his face to Giles' shoulder. "When things are more settled, perhaps we should both practice together to become more at ease with the form. It might be wise for us to be comfortable with it, don't you think? You never know when being small and sneaky could come in useful."

"This is true." Giles still, however, wasn't comfortable with the idea.

"I'm a cute fox," Ethan claimed, and poked Giles with his finger. "You just haven't seen me at my best."

"Had a mirror with you in the ventilation shaft, did you?" Giles teased, letting Ethan lighten the mood.

"My fur is long and sleak, my tail bushy, and my eyes bright. I am a paragon of vulpines." Ethan sniggered, then sighed a little. "Well, we searched the room, and this is where the bad bit comes. Prepare yourself, dearheart. I walked straight into a trap."

Giles wasn't quite able to keep himself from tensing, despite the proof of Ethan's wellbeing he held in his arms. "What kind of trap?"

"One created especially for me. Aren't I a lucky boy?"

"Chaos," Giles breathed, putting the pieces together.

"Stickiest Chaos. Not the void type that bastard on the train threw at us, but my old school of magic and designed to cling like goose burrs. There was so much of it, Rupert. It took me over. It... it made me similar to how I was on that day I performed the Ritual of Abreaction in the spare room and..." Ethan seemed to run out of words.

Giles waited, but no more seemed forthcoming. "And...?" Giles nudged gently, letting just a little bit of his magic flow through his fingertips where they touched Ethan in a gesture of comfort.

"I assaulted Xander."

He hadn't been expecting to hear *that*. "What?" he asked, his alarm showing through. He tried to remember if Xander had looked disturbed when they had come in earlier; he didn't think so, but he'd been so focused on Ethan at the time that he couldn't be sure. Ethan made a small noise and tried to turn in Giles' arms. Giles tightened his grip, holding him in place. "Ethan, talk to me."

Tensed, but not fighting the restrictive hold, Ethan asked quietly, "What do you want to know?"

"What happened."

"I... kissed him. Touched him. Got halfway through a spell to remove his will -- a spell I had no idea I could even remember. Rupert, truly, I'm so sorry. He was very forgiving. Afterwards."

That thankfully didn't sound nearly as bad as Giles had been imagining. "You say you got halfway through a spell -- what made you stop?"

"He kept saying your name. It brought me back to myself; enough to fight it anyway."

"My name made you stop?" Giles supposed that was only to be expected, but it still made him feel warm -- that he could help Ethan resist even when he wasn't there.

Ethan inhaled loudly through his nose before speaking. "No, *I* made me stop. And it was hard, Rupert. Really sodding hard and painful, getting that stuff out me. It left me paralysed for a while. But your name made me *want* to stop."

Giles felt his lips curve up into a smile. "You made you stop," he repeated.

"Yes." Ethan chuckled sheepishly. "I did. And you know what, Ripper? I don't think I'm a danger anymore. Not in that way. I don't think my old addiction can touch me now... Are you upset about Xander?"

He shook his head. "If he's not upset, I don't see it's my place to be so on his behalf." Still caught up in the knowledge that Ethan had met this crisis and vanquished it, Giles leant in and kissed him.

When the kiss drew to a natural close, Ethan pulled back a little. "While I was trying to remember how muscles worked, Xander searched the offices. Most of their stuff had been cleared out, obviously, but he did find an interesting thing when some instinct told him to crawl about on the floor and look under places."

"Yes, well, I guess it pays to leave no stone unturned -- or desk unlooked under," Giles said. "What did he find?"

"A metal coin with a symbol on it, a light enchantment too. The symbol, or at least one bit of it, seemed fami-- oh."

"What?"

Ethan moved closer, perhaps seeking comfort. "The design on the coin is quite complex, but part of it... part of it is the same symbol that was embroidered on the bag that held the void-Chaos."

"Oh, indeed." That certainly put to rest any doubts that this wasn't an organised attack against them. Still, any new bit of information was another lead they could research -- another chance to find the information they were looking for. "Does Xander still have the coin?"

"It's downstairs with the rest of the stuff we found. The only other thing that looks at all important to me however is a poster of Ursa Major. I asked Xander to take it down when I saw properly what it was." Ethan made a move to sit up, and when Giles didn't stop him, straightened up fully. "I could go and get them if you like. I quite fancy a cuppa."

"All right," Giles said, moving to get up as well.

Ethan reached out and put on a sidelight, and as he started to pull on some warm clothes, Giles noticed a few new bruises had appeared on his lover's body, but nothing serious.

"These from expelling the Chaos?" he asked gently, sliding his fingers over the darkened flesh.

Ethan looked down at himself. "Hmm, no. I achieved that using water and a diverted electrical current. I suppose I got these marks while under though. The Chaos, that is. I wasn't in complete control of my body, or indeed, anything, for a while."

The pictures those words painted were not pretty, and Giles found himself wrapping his arms around Ethan again, needing to feel him safe and alive against him.

Ethan stroked his hair. "I'm fine, dearheart; don't fret. I'm better than I've been since Hyde Park in fact. I won single-handed against an attack designed just for me, you've forgiven all my sins, and I'm in your arms. Truly, I'm fine. More than, really."

"This is where you should be," Giles murmured, speaking from some instinct that insisted the world was only right when Ethan was with him.

"Yes," Ethan answered simply.

They kissed softly before pulling back. Ethan finished pulling on his clothes and put the rags Giles' spell had made of his earlier clothing into the bin. Tiptoeing, they opened the door and crept down the stairs.

"This reminds me of sneaking out of my room at night when I was young," Giles offered near the bottom of the stairs, struck by the sudden nostalgia.

"For a midnight feast with your dorm mates?" Ethan asked in a whisper that was probably unnecessary downstairs. He grinned at Giles before heading into the kitchen.

"No, this was at home." Giles flicked on the light as he followed Ethan. "I was always sneaking out of my bed and downstairs to get a book or a snack. But what I did the most was eavesdrop on my father -- listen to him dealing with Council business."

Ethan yawned conspicuously. Giles could tell from the twinkle in his lover's eye that it was quite deliberate. "Thrilling childhood you had, Rupert," Ethan said before filling the kettle under the tap.

"Listening to him discuss the best way to take out a vampire nest or deal with a demon infestation made for quite interesting eavesdrop material," Giles insisted, as he moved to get down two mugs. "And there was the brief time he had a Slayer," he added quietly.

That stopped Ethan halfway between sink and counter. "He had a Slayer?"

Giles nodded, remembering the shy dark-skinned girl with the eyes that were always sad even when she smiled. "Her name was Alisha."

Ethan frowned slightly. He plugged in the kettle and switched it on before walking close to Giles and slipping his arms around him. "You never said."

"It's never come up," he replied, half-shrugging as he wrapped his arms around Ethan in turn.

"She died. Obviously. Did you meet her at all?"

"Oh yes. She and my father travelled quite a bit -- going to wherever there was need of a Slayer -- but between those trips she stayed at ours."

Ethan stroked Giles' cheek. "An early crush?" he asked gently.

"What?" Giles chuckled softly as he shook his head. "I was too young to be interested that way in girls -- or boys for that matter-- when she was with us. But," he heard the wistfulness in his own voice, "she was always nice to me. For an only child, it was a bit like suddenly acquiring an older sister."

"Until she was killed." Ethan's lips flattened. "Was your father very upset?"

Giles sighed, not liking to remember that time, when his entire world seemed to take a turn for the sad and confusing. "He became very quiet. Everyone did."

Ethan shivered and shuffled closer, saying nothing.

"You know," Giles began slowly, speaking as a sudden insight became clear, "I think I reacted much the same way when Buffy... when I lost my Slayer. You keep going because you have to, but there's nothing left remotely resembling enthusiasm."

Soft fingers stroked Giles' face as Ethan frowned in concern. "But your father still had you, surely..."

"The son he had to see trained to grow up and go through the same trauma he was dealing with." Giles smiled slightly, suddenly understanding his father in a way he never had before. "He loved me -- I never doubted his feelings for me -- but the responsibility of what he'd done and what he had to do always seemed to weigh him down."

"Hardly a surprise," Ethan said darkly. Giles wondered if he too was reassessing his long held opinion of Giles' family.

"Things are different now than they were back then. A Slayer's death is no longer a foregone conclusion. Each has a chance at whatever kind of life she wants; there's hope for the future." Giles closed his eyes, vividly remembering his father's rare smile. "I think he would have approved."

The kettle clicked, and Ethan kissed Giles softly before turning to deal with it. "I can't say I really care for the past much."

"It had its moments," Giles said, watching as Ethan went about the minutiae of making tea. "But the present does seem to outshine it."

"Even after the last day or so?" Ethan turned with the mugs of tea in his hands.

"Even then." He moved closer and took one of the mugs from Ethan. "You're here."

Ethan smiled, but then looked down, nursing his mug in both hands. "Does it ever hit you sometimes how little time we might have?"

"I plan on having a lifetime with you," Giles replied in a soft voice, but letting his determination show in his tone. "We may not be twenty-something any more, but we've still got a few decades left in us."

"They want us dead, or separate and darkened." Ethan breathed in shakily. "Sometimes I feel like every moment I'm not with you is a wasted one."

Thinking of what Ian had told him, Giles asked, "Is that what you need from me? To be with you more?"

Ethan seemed to twitch a little. "You need your freedom. My company gets oppressive after a while. I do understand."

Giles set down his mug and took Ethan's from him, putting it on the counter as well. Then he reached out and took Ethan's hands in his own and met and held his gaze. "What I asked is what do *you* need from me, love, not what you think I need from you."

"I'm not sure I can differentiate," Ethan said uneasily. "Really. It's all very well for me to say I want to be with you every minute of the day, but when my doing so causes you... discomfort... Well, then I don't."

"So my discomfort is more important than yours?" Giles asked gently. He was beginning to see how this could be a problem, just as Ian had warned.

"I think it's more your discomfort *is* my discomfort. I tend to feel it as if it were my own." Ethan smiled softly. "We find an acceptable compromise, don't we? I thought things were reasonably comfortable."

"Except that you feel... discomfort when I'm not with you." Giles sighed and decided to get to the heart of why he was asking. "I called Devon yesterday."

Ethan pulled back a little, his body tense. "About me," he said; it wasn't a question.

"About us," Giles corrected. "I've been as much of the problem as you, love."

"Really?" Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Been cursing young girls, have you?"

"I've been fighting the bond. Or so Ian informed me."

"Ah. Yes, you have rather." Ethan reclaimed his mug and took a sip of hot tea. "You don't normally talk to Ian."

Giles leant back against the counter and reached for his own mug. "He was the one who answered the phone, but you're right. I've never really had many conversations with Ian; I'd almost think he was deliberately avoiding me if that made any kind of sense whatsoever."

"It makes perfect sense. I'm sure interacting with you is quite painful for him." Ethan said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It wasn't, however the most obvious thing to Giles. He shook his head, trusting his puzzled expression would get Ethan to explain further. "Rupert, think about it. He is the surviving half of the previous pair to us. The 'me' in that pairing. I have no concept of how he goes on. Really, I don't." He gave Giles an unhappy look. "I couldn't."

Oh. Feeling unusually dense for not figuring that out before having it explained, Giles focused now on dealing with the feelings that spelling it out had obviously stirred within his lover. He held out his free hand to Ethan. "You won't have to. I promise."

Ethan took the hand and squeezed it. "I'll be holding you to that," he said with a ragged smile. "So Ian told you to stop fighting?"

"Essentially, yes. Also to not let you hide from me."

"Ah. Hence the no more secrets. " Finishing his tea -- Ethan always had been able to drink it more or less straight from the kettle -- he put his mug down in the sink and moved closer to Giles. "So can we do this? I don't want... well, I know this old face isn't what it used to be, but I'd rather you didn't start hating the sight of it."

Giles stared at his lover's face, thinking about how much it meant to him to be able to have the privilege of doing so, of how waking up to Ethan every morning made him feel. "I don't think that will ever be a problem," he said, voice husky with emotion. Hate the sight of him? Just the possibility of not being able to see Ethan again made his heart ache.

Ethan pushed his arms under Giles' and tugged him close. He nuzzled their noses together before asking, "So what's your plan?"

"Plan?" Giles echoed blankly.

"You don't have one?"

"I don't let you get away with keeping things from me, and you don't let me get away with pulling back?"

Appearing uneasy, Ethan nonetheless nodded. "It's a deal."

"But you don't like it," Giles said softly, resting his forehead against Ethan's. He had thought his resolve to try and stop fighting the growing bond between them would have made Ethan happy. Obviously he'd been mistaken.

Ethan gave him a pained look. "I'm none too keen on the idea of forcing you to be with me when you don't want to be, no. Did you really expect I'd relish that task?"

"Oh, love..." Giles moved back enough to set down his mug, then took Ethan's face between his hands and kissed him. "I want to be with you -- there's not a time I can think of when I wouldn't be happier having you here. It's just..." He sighed and tried to come up with a way to explain his feelings. It wasn't easy; this sort of thing never was for him.

After a few moments, Ethan gently prompted, "Just?"

Giles sighed again and forced the word out, whether it was the exact right one or not. "Responsibilities."

Ethan's face screwed up in thought. "No, dearheart. That really won't wash. I can't see what on earth responsibilities have to do with your urge to be people-free every once in a while."

"It's not that." Giles waved Ethan's words away with a sharp gesture. "I mean, yes, sometimes I need some time away from everything, but that doesn't include you. You've given me my silence when I've needed it, even when you've stayed in the same room. That's not what makes me get... skittish."

"Tell me then?"

Giles felt the urge to pace as he tried to find the words to explain, but knew that pulling away from Ethan right now might be misconstrued. He stayed where he was and concentrated on fighting his seemingly ingrained reticence. "For the last decade at least, my life has been about my responsibilities -- with the Watchers and my Slayer, Slayers now. Everything else I did took a backseat to that; it had to."

"Does being with me really interfere with your responsibilities?" Ethan asked, then paused. "Or... is this about the prophecy? Is this you not taking yourself, your needs, seriously enough again?"

"No. Well... maybe?" Giles shook his head and, unable to keep still any longer, pulled away and began pacing the length of the kitchen. "You don't interfere with my responsibilities; on the contrary, you've been a great help. But the bond, the limits it's forcing on me... I'm afraid..." He trailed off again, some superstitious part of him not wanting to put his fears into words and make them that much more real.

"You're afraid that being with me -- the bond and being part of a prophecy -- will mean you can't be there for one of your myriad children, or the Council, or somesuch other bollocks." Ethan folded his arms almost angrily, then immediately unfolded them again and tried to reach out to Giles. He said softly, almost pleadingly, "Why can't you understand that *now* your greatest responsibility is us? No," he raised his hand, "Not me, *us*. Who we are and what we're to do. And by fighting the bond you're neglecting your most important... duty." He smiled wryly with the last word, apparently finding it ironic in some way.

"I'm trying," Giles said, moving closer to his lover once again. "I just... it isn't easy to change a lifetime's way of thinking and feeling." He stopped just within touching distance and met Ethan's gaze as he forced out words that were never easy for him to say. "Help me?"

"In any way I can," Ethan said seriously. "Starting with this." He pulled Giles tight to him again and started to kiss him.

As persuasion methods went, it was certainly among the most pleasant ones that had been used on him. Giles wrapped his arms around Ethan and kissed him back.

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