Title: Curtain's Fall 3/?
Section: I Casting Call (3/11)
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 Charades
Summary: The roles have all been filled and the players move into place.

Author Notes: This is the last story of the Old Mystics Series, sequel to Charades. We expect this to be rather long -- long enough that we've developed it into subsections: I Casting Call, II Dress Rehearsal, III Opening Night, IV Grand Finale, and V Encore. Many thanks to Mad Poetess and Wesleysgirl for betaing :) Previous stories in the series can be found
http://www.myarseisnotpansy.co.uk/piedm/mystics.html. Thanks to all the people who have sent us feedback.

To Ethan's great relief, Mr Bobbrick, the old Groundsman, was at the stables when he arrived back with Champ. "If I give you all my worldly goods, would you take care of this animal for me?" he asked the man beseechingly.

Bobbrick took hold of Champ's bridle and nodded at Ethan. "Did you have a fall, sir?" he asked politely.

"A fall from grace, you could say. No need to 'sir' me, by the way." Ethan slid gratefully from the saddle, trying to ignore his various aches and pains. He took off his hat, and not seeing anywhere obvious to put it, hung it from a nail protruding from one of the stall posts. "Oh God, if there's no breakfast left, I may have to cook it myself."

"No need for extreme action, sir. My wife will see you're fed alright."

"And what a wonderful woman she must be." Ethan wondered if he was meant to tip the man, not that he had any money on him if he was. All this class stuff made him think fondly of America. "Well, um, thanks. Better go and get clean again, I suppose." He offered the man his brightest smile and left the stables, heading around the back of the house.

He met Xander coming out of the kitchen door with a mug of something in his hands. Ethan peered into it when he got close. "Any left in the pot?"

"Yeah, there's plenty of everything still in the kitchen," Xander replied, frowning at him. "Have a spot of mud wrestling before breakfast, did we?" he asked in that strange accent he always assumed when attempting to speak 'Brit'.

"Mud is what happens when you run out of thin air, I discovered." Ethan looked yearningly at the door. "What's Mrs B like? Is she liable to object to a handsome and charming but unfortunately perhaps a little slimy man in her kitchen? I'm missing that most important first meal of the day."

Xander considered. "She's nice enough, but might get a little cranky if you track mud all over her floors. Tell you what, you go change, and I'll liberate you some breakfast and bring it up to you."

"That's very decent of you, mate." Ethan grinned appreciatively, slipping his dirty shoes from his feet. He opened the kitchen door and made a run for the hall and the stairs, the dogs suddenly appearing at his heels from somewhere on the way. It was only when he entered his and Rupert's room that he realised Xander's generous offer meant they were going to be alone in a bedroom together. Ah well. If Xander wasn't bothered by the idea, then there was really no reason for Ethan to be. Leaving the bedroom door ajar, so Xander could get in, Ethan told the dogs to stay, grabbed some clean clothes, and headed into the bathroom.

A quick wash-up later -- made all the quicker by the lack of hot water -- and Ethan was coming back out to find a full breakfast laid out on the table and Xander looking around the room with interest.

"Oh, you wonderful man," Ethan said happily, drawing a chair up to the table and lifting the main plate to his lap. "Do sit if you want to."

Xander sank into the chair opposite. "So this is Giles' old room, huh?"

"Apparently. You could fit five of my old bedrooms in here." Ethan frowned, hearing the acid in his own words. "Ignore me. I seem determined to play the disgruntled peasant today."

"And here I thought I was the only one dealing with fish out of water syndrome." Xander gave a half-smile.

Ethan smiled softly back. "No, you're not alone in that. Fancy a trip down to the village local this evening? It won't be what either of us is used to, and as I am apparently L'Enfant Terrible, we can expect to get thrown out on our ears. But there'll be beer until we do..."

"There could be pubbing." Xander flashed one of his infectious grins. "I've been trying to get with the local lingo."

"Good show, as our friendly fox-hunting gentleman would say." Ethan reached to the table for his mug of tea.

"Ah." Xander made a show of nodding wisely. "So that's what's behind the crankies."

"That's some of it." Ethan opted for honesty. "I already owe two apologies, and we've hardly been here twenty-four hours yet." He sighed. "How are you finding things so far?"

"As hideouts go, I've been in worse. Least I'm not having to share one bathroom with a few dozen girls."

"Never have quite understood your complaint about that." Ethan grinned before biting into a piece of toast and marmalade. "Apart from anything else, you seem to be rather fond of Slayers."

"Yeah, but it's not like they let me watch." Xander closed his mouth with an audible snap. "And can we pretend I didn't just say that? Every now and then I seem determined to prove those caveman instincts are alive and well."

"See, when you're gay, you can objectify all you want without ever having to feel guilty. Strange, that." He winked at Xander. "Being here will allow you more time with Kat at least."

Xander's smile was back, if a bit more goofy. "Yeah. Which is not an insignificant silver lining."

"Good practice in night time stealth manoeuvres too, I imagine." Ethan kept his voice deadpan.

"I'm not sure it would be gentlemanly to comment on that," Xander said thoughtfully, reaching out and stealing a piece of toast from Ethan's plate. Since Xander had supplied the food in the first place, Ethan could hardly object.

In a more serious tone, he asked, "Have you spoken to Dawn at all?"

"Yeah." Xander's expression became grim. "Another blast from the good ol' Sunnydale past."

"Can *you* tell me anything helpful about this 'Doc'? Dawn seems understandably fragile currently, and I don't want to push her. And Ian... well, he's never been an easy source of information."

"Doc looks like someone's grandfather, until he starts moving in ways most grandfathers -- at least the human variety -- don't. And he's damned hard to kill. This is twice now he's come back after I would've sworn he was dead. First time involved stabbing with a poker; second time was when Buffy shoved him off the tower." Xander shrugged. "Course everyone else who fell off that tower either survived or came back so..."

"So he's fast and hard to kill? Anything else?" Having finished his breakfast, Ethan began stacking the tray to take back downstairs.

Xander shrugged. "He had some kind of reputation with Sunnydale demons as being the place to go if you needed to know something."

"Like a sage or a mystic?"

"I don't know -- do many sages have lizard tongues or tails?"

Ethan frowned. "Lizard tongues? As in forked and snaky?" The last dream he'd shared with Rupert came flooding back to him.

"As in way longer and more prehensile than anything you expect to see coming out of a guy who looks like somebody's grandfather's mouth." Xander gave another shrug. "Definitely reptiley; can't really get more specific than that."

"I don't suppose you had much time for research during your first encounter with him, but I think some may be in order now. After all, I assume we brought all those damn books with us for some reason beyond taking up valuable suitcase space in the car boots." Ethan wondered distractedly if Rupert was going to let them out for shopping trips or if they really were besieged here... and if the latter was the case, he supposed a pub-crawl was out of the question as well. He gave Xander a glum look.

"That's a big part of being a Scooby -- sitting around looking through dusty old tomes for that one elusive piece of information that will save the day." Xander looked at him closely. "And anticipating research isn't what's responsible for the sad sack expression, is it?"

Sitting back in his chair, Ethan motioned with his head to tell Skunk she could get on his lap. His fingers combed her long fur as he looked appraisingly at Xander. "Of Rupert and I, which of us do you think would be better at dealing with sudden change?"

Xander considered the question, reaching out to idly pet Giddy who had approached when Skunk had. "I'd say both of you have had more than your share."

"Tactful non-answer, that." Ethan smiled wryly. "Since my mid twenties, I've moved around, staying no more than two or three months in any one place. I kept myself detached from people and places, letting nothing tie me down. Change was my way of life and indeed, my modus operandi. Then there was four years of Initiative hell, of course, wherein the day-to-day monotony was almost worse than the-- than anything else. And then there was Rupert, and 17, Mountbatten Road..."

Xander's mouth twisted upwards. "And you got attached." Pursing his lips, Ethan nodded. Xander smiled sympathetically. "So now you're feeling homesick."

"I know it was a Hellmouth, but don't you ever miss Sunnydale?" Ethan asked, changing the subject slightly, or at least the object.

"Some," Xander said easily. "I miss the people we lost more than the place. But yeah, every now and then I still get a nostalgic pang for ye old school library. Or Giles' place. Or Buffy's. Surprisingly, I don't miss the house I grew up in at all."

Hmm, so much Ethan could ask about there. He knew the bare bones of Xander's childhood, enough to know it held similarities to his own, so the sarcastic 'surprisingly' was not, well, a surprise. Ethan had also been told, mainly by Rupert, about Xander's relationship with Anya the ex-vengeance demon, but no details. Xander himself had yet to share much on either subject, but then again, Ethan had been hesitant to ask. "I think one has to have had good experiences in a place to miss it once you leave," he said gently. "I certainly have never missed my childhood home." Although he did still think fondly sometimes of his Nan's house.

"Yeah. It's more the people than the location that you end up missing. It's what happened with those people that makes you miss a place. I'm not saying the place doesn't matter, but as long as you still have the people, you can find another place."

"Very wise," Ethan said with a sardonic little smile. "Places do matter though. Time as well. People, location, and a place in history -- they all make up the unique pattern, the fingerprint if you like, for a specific memory."

"Can't argue with that," Xander said easily.

"So," Ethan started, suddenly wanting to move on to lighter topics, but not really being able to think of any. He opted for his current bugbear. "Fancy taking up a career as a hunt saboteur?"

Xander grinned. "You got something specific in mind?"

"Not yet. But however much trouble it gets me in, I won't tolerate it anywhere near me... even if I have to go out and change the scent of every local fox to protect them." He grimaced at Xander. "I've already been a bit of a git about this today."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Xander told him. "If I was confronted with people who hunted carpenters for sport, I probably wouldn't be all sweetness and light either."

Xander was a good mate, Ethan decided. It wasn't that the lad wouldn't tell him clearly enough when he thought Ethan was wrong, but he was supportive when Ethan wasn't expecting it, and he was unarguably loyal. Ethan tried to think of a way to express his appreciation without embarrassing both of them, failed, and opted instead for a smirk and innuendo. "You're a good man to have at my back." It wasn't as if Xander would expect anything different from Ethan.

"As long as it's clear there's no ogling happening when I'm back there," Xander replied in kind with a grin. "Not even a stray glance. Nope, none at all."

Xander was so very obviously relaxed and joking that Ethan had to wonder if the embarrassing kiss had actually helped the lad admit something to himself. He was contemplating steering the conversation into that area when he sensed the approach of his husband. "Rupert's on his way," he told Xander with an evil smile. "Quick, look heterosexual!"

Xander rolled his eyes and then very deliberately stuck his tongue out at Ethan. That of course was when Rupert came in. Sensing Rupert behind him, Ethan merely smirked more blatantly and said, "I could show you how to use that if you like."

"Can't leave you alone for a minute without you causing trouble, can I?" Rupert asked dryly, his hands falling to rest on Ethan's shoulders. Beside Xander, Giddy perked up and barked at his master's appearance.

Ethan lifted a hand to rub over one of Rupert's. "Hello, dear. Come to tell me off?"

"If I can work it into my busy schedule of abusing animals," Rupert replied in the same dry tone.

Ethan looked down. 'Sorry,' he sent, then decided it would be better out loud. "I'm sorry."

Xander cleared his throat and stood. "I think I hear someone calling me somewhere so I'll just..." he gestured toward the door.

"Thanks for breakfast, Xander," Ethan said, trying to show with his smile that he meant more than just the food.

"Any time," the younger man replied, returning the smile. "If this Watcher gig doesn't work out maybe I can fall back on waiter."

"You'd certainly encourage appetites in a tux," Ethan announced, deliberately salaciously, his gaze roaming over Xander's body.

"Lucky for me I have a girlfriend who can kick the asses of people who want to put me on the menu. You'll just have to make do with looking." Xander grinned, turned and left.

Rupert moved around to sit in the chair beside Ethan. "Do I even want to know what that was about?"

After checking with his pattern senses that Xander was really gone, Ethan answered. "I think that was healing, actually. Whatever was fractured between us during my unpleasant Chaos-fuelled attack on him seems truly mended now."

"So you're not about to throw me over and run off with Xander then, I take it." Rupert reached for his hand.

Ethan lifted Skunk and kissed the top of her head before putting her on the floor beside him where she bounced and yapped, apparently expecting something exciting to now happen. Ethan slid smoothly from his chair onto his knees and laid one arm over Rupert's legs, taking the proffered hand into his. "Not very likely now, is it?"

"If for no other reason than, as Xander pointed out, Kat would kick your arse."

"I'm not afraid of Kat," Ethan said, quite truthfully, sending a mental command to Skunk to sit and quieten down. He wasn't even slightly surprised when she did. Looking up at Rupert from under his brow, Ethan asked, "Are you very annoyed with me?"

"I should be," Rupert told him. "You were deliberately being the most contrary git that you could manage."

"I know," Ethan admitted, looking down again glumly.

"Do you want to tell me why?" Rupert asked him gently.

"You're presuming I know." Ethan grimaced and then shrugged. "I suppose I'm a grouchy fish out of water who's missing his nice little glass bowl in the city."

Understanding flashed through Rupert's eyes. "Because that was ours."

Ethan nodded, looking down again. "You rescued me, took me there... It was the first home I've had since we were together before. I'm embarrassing myself with this level of sentimentality, but..." He shrugged helplessly.

Rupert brushed a hand lightly against Ethan's cheek. "This isn't permanent, you realise. It's not like the house has fallen into a sinkhole; when this is all over, we can go back."

"That would be nice." Ethan laid his head down onto Rupert's legs and let his eyes close for a few seconds.

"Maybe this wasn't the best place to come," Rupert said, as he absently stroked Ethan's hair.

"No, this was a good choice." Ethan hurriedly reassured. "Very sound strategy -- especially if you let me beef up your old wards. Or better still, we do it together. I'll adjust to the move, and providing Squire Matthew keeps the hunt well away from me, I'll even do my best to get along with him."

"Matthew's not that avid a hunter. For him, it's mostly an excuse for a wild horse ride."

"I'm sure we can find some friendly imps to help him out there," Ethan said, looking up at last with just the hint of a wicked smile.

Rupert gave him a look that was equal parts of exasperation and affection. "Some things never change, do they?"

Stroking a hand between Rupert's thighs, Ethan asked, "Do you really want them to?"

"You going to remind me why I don't?" Rupert asked, eyes bright with a mischief that matched that within Ethan's own heart.

"What do you think?" Ethan let his fingers move higher, teasing and dancing. "My ride earlier was cut rather short."

"You weren't able to keep your seat." Rupert let his legs fall more open, giving Ethan better access.

"There wasn't anything to... hold on to." Ethan moved his hand up the inner seam of Rupert's jeans and then up further to the fly. "I need something to grip, you see."

He could see Rupert's hands tighten on the chair's armrests. "I believe we should be able to accommodate you now."

"So I see." Ethan grinned, his fingers tracing. "It's impressive. Do you think my mount may buck?"

"I think it would be safe to say he's quite spirited." Rupert's voice was taking on that husky quality which marked arousal.

Cupping the growing erection, Ethan squeezed and said, "I wouldn't ever want to tame such a mount."

Rupert brushed a hand against Ethan's cheek. "You'd be the only one who could."

"Don't want to," Ethan reiterated, rising to his feet. "I'd rather my mount be like a pooka and take me where he will." He began to undress.

"A really wild ride is what you're looking for then," Rupert observed, sliding down in his chair and watching Ethan through half-shuttered eyes.

"Oh yes. That would suit me just fine." He laid his clothes carefully on the other chair, taking his time over it all.

Rupert waited until he was finished, then stood, stalking towards him with the gait of a predator. "Always looking for the edge, aren't you?"

Ethan felt a heavy surge of blood into his cock just in response to the way Rupert was looking; he gazed intensely at his husband. "Am I the Magician, dearheart? Am I in control of these dangerous forces I play with? Or am I the Fool who walks blithely over the edge, his little dog at his heels?"

A faint smile touched Rupert's lips as his gaze went to where Skunk was lying with Giddy. "Well, you've got the little dog..."

"I do indeed. You better catch me when I fall then." Ethan moved into Rupert's arms.

"Always," Rupert vowed, closing his arms around him tightly.

There was always something highly erotic about being naked when Rupert was fully dressed. Ethan relished the hug, wriggling against Rupert and tilting his head sideways for a kiss. Rupert obliged with a teasing brush of lips against lips, before pulling back and giving Ethan a look that was both predatory and possessive, and possibly also pornographic.

Ethan's eyes flickered shut briefly as he felt another surge of arousal hit him. Again, just from a look. "So how's the ride so far?" Rupert growled into his ear.

"Full of exciting promise," Ethan replied, rubbing his cheek catlike against Rupert's. "But it's hard to judge until we actually leave the starting stalls."

Rupert chuckled as he pushed Ethan back onto the mattress. "Incorrigible brat." He followed Ethan down and covered Ethan's body with his own.

Ethan immediately wrapped his legs and arms around Rupert. "You wouldn't like me corrigible. Where would be the fun, the challenge, in that?"

"Challenging is a good word for you." Rupert lowered his head and ravaged Ethan's mouth.

Groaning, Ethan writhed under the savage kiss, trying to give back at least a little of what he was receiving. He thrust his cock against the roughness of Rupert's jeans, as his hands slipped under clothing to clutch at the warm skin of Rupert's back.

"I should do something to correct your bad behaviour this morning," Rupert murmured almost thoughtfully against Ethan's lips.

Narrowing his eyes, Ethan craned his head back into the bedding to try to study Rupert. "Normally I'd be overjoyed at the sound of that, but just recently there's been an alarming fondness for magical restriction in certain areas."

The smile Rupert gave him did nothing to calm his uneasiness. "Perhaps that just means I've finally found a punishment that works."

Ethan shifted uneasily. "Rupert, I genuinely hate it," he said, trying hard for a reasonable tone. It was the truth too, if perhaps not the whole truth.

"You do grasp the actual purpose of punishment, don't you? That you're not actually supposed to like it?"

"There's punishment and there's punishment." How was he going to get out of this without spoiling the mood? Well, if he wanted to act without ethics there were several ways available, but Ethan simply wasn't prepared to engage in such practices with Rupert anymore. Well, other than arousal twisting, but Rupert had never complained about that.

Rupert slid a hand between them and wrapped it around Ethan's length. "Considering how hard you are while we're talking about it, I don't think you hate it as much as you're insisting either." There was a definite air of smug amusement about his husband.

Bugger. "Rupert, please. I said I was sorry. And meant it!"

"And you think that means I should let you off easy?" As Rupert spoke, his fingers moved along Ethan's cock, sending off tiny bursts of magic.

Ethan gritted his teeth, trying not to moan, but barely succeeding. "Please. Make me do things. Hurt me. Just don't put that bloody ring on me, *please*."

Rupert seemed to consider the request for a moment then pulled back and challenged, "Convince me."

Still not quite sure how he'd got into this -- one minute they'd been exchanging witty banter, the next he'd lost all control of the situation -- Ethan nodded; here was his chance. He pushed gently on Rupert's chest. "Lay back?"

Rupert did so, his smile still carrying that air of smug amusement.

Ok. Now all Ethan had to do was get Rupert so lost in pleasure that he forgot all about the damn ring. Should be easy enough, so long as his tactic wasn't guessed... Ethan sighed. The trouble with the bond was that his tactic was probably already all too well anticipated and understood by Rupert. Oh well, he had no choice but to try it anyway.

Ethan leant over and kissed Rupert slowly and deeply. As he danced his tongue around his husband's mouth, Ethan let his hand move down to unfasten Rupert's trousers. Rupert responded to his actions, sliding a hand lightly down Ethan's spine, but he continued to let him have control.

Ethan pushed his hand inside the jeans and encircled Rupert's cock, stroking it slowly, almost absent-mindedly, and using no magic. At the same time, however, he began to map out Rupert's arousal in its glorious four-dimensional matrix. Outwardly, Rupert's only response was a soft intake of breath, but Ethan could sense there was far more happening under the surface.

Still kissing deeply, Ethan used the lightest possible magical touch to pick up key nodes and knit them together. Not yet tweaking, just interconnecting, and preparing his way. In the meantime, he circled his thumb slickly around on the underside of the head of Rupert's cock, deliberately stimulating one of his husband's most sensitive areas, but giving him nowhere near enough pressure.

Rupert made a small sound of pleasure, shifting slightly to press himself more firmly into Ethan's hand. "Not a bad start."

"Greedy," Ethan said, as he couldn't resist it. Then, so that Rupert couldn't see his smirk, he slipped lower in the bed. Much lower, so that his head was above Rupert's erection, still half buried in the open jeans. With a small noise of appreciation for the arousing picture before him, Ethan tugged at the denim, and Rupert obligingly lifted his hips so that Ethan could remove both trousers and boxers. Ethan opened Rupert's legs and knelt between them. He blew softly on the proud cock below. "Ready?" he asked softly.

He got a very Ripperish grin in response. "Try me."

Ethan stuck his tongue out as he moved down, and as just the tip of his tongue touched the tip of Rupert's cock, he tweaked, pulling at the string of nodes he'd created. Rupert bucked violently, as if an electrical current had wracked his nerves.

Gripping around the base with one hand, Ethan explored with his tongue, bathing Rupert's shaft. He tied the movements of his tongue to his weaving through Rupert's arousal, so that every lick, every wet caress, tightened the cords.

Rupert gasped and shook under the attention, clearly losing himself in the sensations; Ethan could sense the not-so-slow build up within Rupert and wondered just how far he could push him. Not that he'd allow orgasm just yet, but while Ethan could control Rupert's reactions, he had no hold on his husband's mind. Groaning softly, Ethan opened his mouth and took much of the length inside, sucking and working with his tongue.

"Ethan," Rupert growled; Ethan wasn't sure if it was plea or threat.

"Mmm?" He paused, lifting his gaze to Rupert's face.