Title: Curtain's Fall 17/?
Section: II Dress Rehearsal (6/10)
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.

And that was that; the fight was over.

They had two dead human mages, several dead demons, one captured Slayer -- the other having sensibly vanished somewhere; hopefully the Council could locate her later. And assorted minor wounds, of course. Ethan wished his shoulder would remember it was only a minor wound and stop hurting as if he'd been poked right through with a burning lance or something similar.

He was dog-tired, and now the adrenaline was draining away, he couldn't keep up the controls he had been maintaining on his own body. He felt himself becoming drunk again, and the fear he'd been denying time or energy to was starting to make his body shake. He wasn't cut out for this sort of thing; he really wasn't.

He was also cold and wet and had twigs in his hair.

It was better to not worry Rupert though. So he stayed standing where he was and pretended to be studying the unconscious Slayer's patterns.

There was some quiet discussion over the corpses, and then Kat, Xander and Rupert walked slowly back to where Ethan and the captured Slayer were. Rupert immediately went to Ethan and wrapped his arms around him while the other two went to the Muslim girl, picking her up.

"They're taking her back to the house," Rupert murmured to Ethan, as they watched them start off through the trees. "Matthew and the other two girls are going to see to the disposal of the bodies."

Ethan couldn't resist pressing closely to Rupert and burying his face into the crook of Rupert's neck. "Is everyone all right? Those bodies can't be nice to look at."

"What bodies are? But Dawn's seen such things before, and Megan is a Slayer through and through." He sighed and nuzzled Ethan's forehead. "Everyone's fine. Some cuts and bruises, nicks and scrapes, but nothing more serious than that. This--" Rupert gently touched Ethan's shoulder above where it was gashed, "seems to be the worst we've suffered. We were incredibly lucky."

They really had been. "I expect Kat will have something herbal to splash on my shoulder and make it all better. I need to check the integrity of the wards, but then, I'd rather like to go home and please, no more books tonight? I'm so tired, Rupert."

"No books, I promise." Rupert kissed him gently. 'After everything that's happened, I just need to hold you for a while.'

Regardless of the pain it provoked from his shoulder, Ethan tightened his arms around Rupert and more or less clung for a few moments. But his pattern senses told him that while Rupert might not be drunk and injured, he was just as drained from days of high stress and research as Ethan was, and it wasn't fair to lean on him, no matter how strong and sturdy he felt. So Ethan reluctantly pulled back and began to wearily poke about in the wards, checking they remained sound.

"I'll see to that, dear boy," Ian said, walking up to them as he pulled his jumper over his head and put on his coat. Ethan hadn't even sensed him coming. His mentor smiled at him. "You two look like you've been put through several wringers. Back to the house with you, go on! Leave the grunt work to your elder."

Ethan gave the older man a rather desperate glance, suddenly feeling every inch the trainee, but he didn't have the strength to argue. "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you," Rupert added, tightening his arms around Ethan as if to hold him up. "It's much appreciated." Ian just nodded and waved them off in the direction of the house again.

They walked in silence to start with, their dogs finding them and keeping them company without being boisterous. As they reached the bottom of the field that led up to the house, Ethan said, "I want a shower, food, clean sheets and you. Not necessarily in that order. In fact, I'd rather the 'you' was a constant throughout the rest."

"Good," Rupert replied, and Ethan could feel the rumble of his voice, pressed against his side as he was. "Because you've got me whether you want me or not."

Ethan hesitated before broaching the next subject, but then said it anyway. "I, um... well, I always used to run away wherever possible when these kinds of situations arose in my dark and dirty days. I wasn't much cop in the fight. Sorry."

"You don't need to apologise." Rupert turned his head to drop a kiss on Ethan's cheek as they walked. "You led me there -- in one piece I might add -- and you were a great asset to me in the actual fight. I never would have been able to hold the Slayers long enough for help to get to us without you. Not every contribution needs to be big and flashy to be essential."

It wasn't that Ethan didn't listen to Rupert's reassurance; he did, and it felt good, but he couldn't help replaying the battle in his head. "Mage to mage, I can hold my own, but against physical foes... Well, unless I can do what Ian did and find time and space to concentrate in, I'm not sure what use I can practically be." He should have obeyed his original instinct to call down a storm. Bugger it.

"I wasn't able to give you that space. I'm sorry. Demon got past my guard."

"Not your fault," Ethan mumbled. "Demon didn't interrupt anything useful anyway." Ugh, he sounded whiny. Ethan took a deep breath and attempted a less self-pitying tone. "I think if we find ourselves in that sort of situation again, the best solution would be for me to get to the sidelines where I can lurk and augment without being an obvious target. Support staff, that's me; wouldn't know what to do with that big shiny weapon of yours even if you let me handle it. Not the wisest course to put me in the heart of combat, really."

There, that was more reasonable... wasn't it?

Rupert was silent for a moment as they continued to trudge back to the house. "I never seem to do a very good job of protecting you, do I?" he finally murmured. "I'm sorry. I can understand why you wouldn't want to be put in that position again."

"What?" Ethan stopped dead in his tracks, forcing Rupert to stop also. "No. Abso-bloody-lutely not. I'd be dead and more than once were it not for you. You are not only the only person who's ever tried to protect me, you're also sodding good at it! This is about me being a useless git and wanting not to get in your way, not you being anything less than magnificent. Which, you may remember I told you, you were."

"You're not useless," Rupert replied fiercely. "Far from it. I don't want you ever thinking that you are." Ethan knew better than to say such things to Rupert; he really did.

"No, I don't think that. I'm exaggerating." He moved closer and nuzzled into Rupert's neck. "Sorry. It's just that my skills, significant and many though they might be, aren't much cop during combat." He thought about all Ian had achieved during the fight and added, "Or rather, I'm not, I guess. Oh, I don't know, Rupert. I'm tired, drunk, wet, and really not at all high on life and soul qualities currently. My insecurities are really the least of our worries; let's pay them no more heed, eh?"

Rupert's arms went around him again tightly. "You saved my life out there -- or at the very least, a nasty goring, don't you remember? You knocked me out of the way of that demon before I even saw it; if you hadn't, it would've got a free shot at me and that may have been all it needed." He kissed Ethan again. "You're *not* useless."

Oh dear. "But... but I didn't. I mean, I would have done, had it been aiming at you. Really, I would have. But it was aiming at me, and I pulled you back inadvertently as I jumped away from it. Can we go in now?"

Rupert sighed, kissed him again, and nodded.

They made their way up the hill and over the gravel and cobblestones to the kitchen door. Ethan paused before they went into the light and warmth, really not wanting to face anyone. The dogs sat down obediently, uncomplaining at the delay.

"Come on, love," Rupert encouraged gently. "Let's get you up to our room and cleaned up. We'll have Mrs B. send up some food that I think we both could use."

"And you think you don't protect me," Ethan murmured gratefully, as he let himself be steered inside.

"I try, at least," Rupert murmured back as they headed through the kitchen. He left Ethan very briefly to go speak with Mrs B., but was back very quickly. Leaving the dogs behind to be fed, they headed out into the corridor and up the stairs.

Ethan kept his head down, not wanting to risk meeting eyes if they bumped into anyone on the way, but they didn't. And as the door to their room shut behind them, he half-collapsed back upon it and looked up at Rupert, trying to communicate everything he was feeling with just his eyes.

Rupert pulled him close again, wrapping his arms about him tightly and just holding him for long moments.

It felt so good; it would feel even better skin to skin, but this was sheer bliss even clothed. "What happened to our nice life together?" Ethan asked rhetorically and more than a little petulantly. "Why's everything upped and gone to hell? I want our nice quiet life back. Even the office. I want the office back."

Rupert kissed Ethan's temple. "We'll get it all back. I promise."

His shoulder was burning abominably, but Ethan really didn't want to move from Rupert's arms. "You've been stressed out for days, dearheart. You've barely slept, hardly eaten; you look a little ravaged, truth to tell. And yet still... still you can be strong for me. Never think I don't appreciate this, Rupert. Never."

"Having you here helps tremendously. I don't think you can begin to know how much. Doing what needs to be done is what I was born and bred and trained to do; knowing that I have you to lean on when I do it is..." Rupert shook his head wonderingly. "It makes all the difference."

And even that was exactly the right thing to say. Ethan stroked his fingers over Rupert's rough stubble in wonder. "You might just be all I need, you know. You're miracle panacea, golden goose and aqua vita all in one."

Rupert smiled, lowering his eyes in embarrassment. "I'm just me. A slightly worn, oft-beat up Watcher and mage who's spent his life dealing with things no one wants to." He rested his forehead against Ethan's as he continued. "A man who loves you more than anything and who's feeling more at home in his own skin since you've come back into his life."

Ethan closed his eyes, soaking in as much of Rupert's presence as he could. He let his fingers comb gently into Rupert's hair, massaging his scalp. "Shower with me? I feel like I have half a tree in my hair and rather more mud than I like to consider on my skin."

"I'm not ready to let you out of my reach for a while yet," Rupert replied, pulling back and leading Ethan towards the bathroom. "And I want to take a look at your shoulder."

"It hurts," Ethan admitted, "but it isn't bad. Nothing that won't heal." He paused by the sink to look at himself in the mirror and winced at what he saw. "I'm suppose I should apologise for getting drunk with Ian again. He was very persistent, and I'm... " He sighed and left the 'weak' unspoken.

"No apologies necessary. Taking a break isn't a bad thing."

Ethan stared at his reflection. "I should have told you what I was doing."

Rupert came up behind him and slid his arms around Ethan's waist. "You don't have to clear your every move with me, love," he said, meeting Ethan's gaze in the mirror. "And given the circumstances, you wouldn't have been able to anyway." He lowered his head to nuzzle gently at Ethan's neck. "I'd much rather it was me who found that out the hard way than you."

Ethan couldn't stop a shiver as he thought of what it would have been like to suddenly discover Rupert gone from his mind. "I'm sorry you had to experience that."

"We've only been able to hear each other's thoughts for a few months." Rupert nuzzled him again. "It's amazing how quickly something like that becomes essential."

Closing his eyes, Ethan leant back slightly against Rupert, wrapping his own arms over the top of his husband's. Was there something more important than essential? If so, that's what Rupert and their link was to Ethan. "I did learn something useful today. I'm not sure how aware you were of it in the heat of things, but I linked us at a deep level during the fisticuffs, so that you could call on my awareness of things almost instinctively... among other things."

He hadn't actually detached them again yet, but that seemed to be happening naturally by itself.

"That would explain..." Rupert murmured mostly to himself. "I seemed to almost have eyes in the back of my head during the fight, as if I could see what the demon was going to do before he did it. I thought it was just the usual adrenaline-based sense sharpening, but it was... more."

"Yes." Ethan smiled at Rupert in the mirror. "It was exactly how I link our nodes during sex occasionally, but different nodes and at a deeper level. Thinking about it, it should have been very hard to do... but it wasn't. Not at all."

"We're meant to fight together. Even if I'm the one swinging the sword, it's still both of us fighting."

Ethan considered that. "I suppose I should stop thinking about me and what I'm achieving, and think about us and what we're managing to do together. Ironic that, really."

"A whole stronger than its parts," Rupert murmured. "We're a bloody force to be reckoned with."

Snorting softly, Ethan smiled. "We are. Truly. If a rather dirty force currently."

"Indeed. Shower?"

"Yes, shower. Nice and hot, please."

"Do you need help getting undressed?"

Ethan chuckled and turned around in Rupert's arms. "I believe I may be quite helpless in this matter."

Rupert smiled at him even as he said, "I'm serious. What with your injury..."

"Yes, it's quite grievous. You may have to cut me out." Ethan pretended to swoon against Rupert.

"I'm in love with a drama queen," Rupert mourned rather dramatically himself.

Ethan giggled against Rupert's shoulder. "He loves me. Now my life is complete. Take me, Rupert, never mind the pain. Take me now!"

Rupert shook his head sadly. "Delirious from blood loss."

He did feel a little delirious; it was true. But that didn't seem such a bad thing currently. Ethan pulled back from Rupert and began to undo his coat, announcing a clear "Ow!" with every button until Rupert got the hint.

Taking over, Rupert undid Ethan's coat and then gently eased it from Ethan's shoulders, obviously doing his best not to jar the wounded one.

It did hurt. Really, quite a lot. But Ethan was enjoying regressing to helpless five year old rather too much to complain, and anyway, it would undoubtedly have hurt a lot more if he'd tried to take it off on his own. He took the coat from Rupert's hand and looked mournfully at the wrecked shoulder. That was his Barbour gone then. He sighed.

"We'll get you another one," Rupert said, seeming to read Ethan's thoughts. Or at least his body language. "Coats can be replaced, you can't."

Ethan nodded and lightly chucked the coat over to the corner of the bathroom, which hurt his shoulder again. He winced. "Not sure I was kidding about the cutting my clothes off me. Getting this jumper off may be tricky."

"I've an easier way," Rupert said, touching Ethan's clothes and murmuring, "texurum divid," causing Ethan's clothes to fall from him in rags.

Well, apart from the fragment of shirt that seemed stuck to his shoulder. "Ow," he said mournfully, knowing he was milking it, but it was easier to get sympathetic attention for his shoulder than for the other things that were bothering him.

Rupert wet down a flannel and dabbed at Ethan's shoulder, trying to pry the fabric from the wound with as little discomfort as possible. That still meant quite a lot of discomfort, but Ethan knew it could have been far worse. Just the fact that it was Rupert touching him helped in a way nothing else would have.

He felt the fabric peel away, and Rupert had done his work so well, there was little extra pain. "How does it look?" he asked, half-turning.

"I've seen worse," Rupert said, but he was pressing his lips together into a thin line, an expression he always wore when he was upset about something.

"What's wrong? I know it's not that bad; my pattern senses tell me."

"I don't like seeing you hurt," was the softly spoken answer.

It was just so very nice to be cared about, for the things that happened to him to matter to someone, and not just any someone but Rupert. "I'm fine, my dear. Better than fine now. You saved me from the big bad demon, and now you're making me feel deliciously warm and cared for."

Rupert stole a quick kiss. "You'd do the same for me."

"I'd certainly try." Ethan began to undress Rupert, but his shoulder really was feeling sore now, an ache spreading out down his arm and into the muscles of his neck. He could, of course, block the pain quite easily by twisting, but some instinct told him it was unwise to do such things when it wasn't vital.

Rupert grabbed his hands and stepped back out of Ethan's immediate reach. "Let me do that. I don't want you aggravating things."

So Ethan reluctantly just watched at Rupert efficiently stripped, and then waited for him to make the water hot before stepping after him into the shower. When the powerful jet hit his shoulder, he yelped.

Rupert immediately moved his body to shield Ethan's shoulder from the water. "Sorry. I should've--"

"No. Dearheart, it's okay. The water needs to get to it. I'm being a little bit of a wimp." Ethan moved close to Rupert again, wrapping his arms around him. "Hold me some more?"

'Easiest thing to do in the world,' Rupert sent, switching to talking mind to mind, and he hugged Ethan close.

Ethan deliberate manoeuvred until he was back under the spray again, letting the hot water torrent over his head and down his back as he pressed his face into Rupert's neck. He tightened his arms as his shoulder protested, but then relaxed slowly as the water seemed to soak so much that felt wrong with him away. 'You make everything good.'

Rupert sighed. 'Would that that were true.' He began running his hands lightly over Ethan's back.

"It is true!" Ethan protested aloud. Rupert just smiled a bit sadly at him and leant in for another kiss. 'You make everything good for me, at the very least,' Ethan insisted, even as he felt himself seem to melt under the combined comforts of hot water and Rupert's lips.

'I do my best,' was Rupert's slightly wistful reply.

Ethan really didn't like the insecurity in Rupert's tone, but he supposed it was to do with Rupert's failure so far to find a solution for their Dawn problem, and Ethan really didn't want to discuss that. Not tonight. Not now. Now was about warmth and comfort and each other and not appalling responsibilities they couldn't escape. He took a deep breath and sighed it out before allowing his magic to radiate out gently from his hands and into Rupert's body, trying to soothe him without words.

Rupert made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a sigh of contentment, and Ethan could feel some of the tension in his husband's muscles start to ease. 'I love you,' Rupert sent, his tone heartfelt, starting the kiss again.

'At this moment, pretty much all I am is a great mushy puddle of love for you,' Ethan sent back with a small chuckle. 'You really have no idea just how wonderful you are for me, have you?'

'I do my best,' Rupert repeated, this time more assured.

That was better. Smiling into the gentle kiss, Ethan let his hands move lazily over Rupert's water-slicked back and arse. 'Mmm, you feel good, dearheart.'

'So do you.' Rupert nuzzled Ethan's throat. 'Do you have any idea how much of a difference having you here with me has made?'

'Things are only right when we're together... which is obvious really. I find it so hard to believe I did without you for so long. The more I have of you, the more I want. Is this the bond or is it just us, Rupert?' He reached for the shower gel from the shelf -- it was his favourite one for evening showers currently, scented with tropical fruits and coconut; it was like bathing in a summer cocktail.

'Both, I think,' Rupert replied, taking the gel from Ethan's hands. 'We fit together in ways that are as much about who we are as what we are. The bond just lets us realise how deeply and completely that is true.' Rupert's conviction that there was more to their relationship than a strong mystical bond was always very reassuring.

Ethan pulled back enough to let Rupert wash him, smiling as he relished the touch of slippery hands upon his body. 'So very good. Ah, I'm unwilling to even say this and spoil this moment, but do you want to talk about the attack? We probably should.' Wherever he'd purchased a conscience from without realising it, Ethan hoped they'd accept returns.

'Not just yet,' Rupert beseeched. 'We need to get cleaned up, get your wound tended to and eat something before Mrs. B comes after us with a cast iron frying pan. After. After will be soon enough.'

Ethan's unwanted conscience was apparently not yet so well developed that he was going to argue with that. 'You forgot the shagging, dear, but other than that, it seems a fine plan... oh, and might want to stick an elastoplast on my shoulder before then.'

'That would fall under getting your wound tended to,' Rupert replied. 'Ah, the elastoplast, not the shagging.'

'Yes, I merely meant we should do the tending before the shagging. In case there may be a certain amount of friction... talking of which, are you intending to shave?'

'I hadn't really thought about it,' Rupert replied as he continued to wash Ethan.

Ethan gave Rupert a cheeky grin. 'May I persuade you? While I believe there is some anti-ageing benefit in removing the top layers of skin, I'd rather not if it's all the same.'

Rupert smiled slightly. 'What if I said I wasn't sure we should shag, what with you being injured and all?' he asked.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Ethan exclaimed aloud.

Rupert chuckled. "Entirely the opposite, love, I assure you. I suppose if we could shag when my leg was messed up, we should be able to work something out with your shoulder..."

"It's a mere scratch! Forget the bloody elastoplast." Ethan pressed his soapy body against Rupert's and wriggled intently.

"It's a bit more serious than a 'mere scratch'," Rupert argued. He didn't pull away however.

"Put it from your mind, dearheart. I insist." He nibbled up the side of Rupert's neck then took his earlobe between his teeth.

"You wouldn't insist if I'd been the one who'd been injured." Rupert's voice was becoming just a bit distracted.

"That would be different." Behind Rupert, Ethan took the shower gel back from the hook and filled his hand with plenty. "Time to get you clean, my dear. Parts of you are looking quite dirty."

"How would it be different?" Rupert asked.

"It would be different because you're not very good at looking after your own needs, whereas I excel at protecting my own skin." With hands full of shower gel, Ethan slicked down Rupert's belly, and without hesitation, slid over and cupped his cock and balls.

"So, you don't want me to take care of you when you get hurt?" Rupert asked with amusement, even as his body reacted to Ethan's touch.

"You're teasing me," Ethan pointed out. "Now be good, or I'll start my own kind of teasing." As an example, he let his slippery stroking hands emit a strong dose of magic.

Rupert's eyes closed in pleasure. "And this is supposed to be a deterrent?"

Was it their ever-growing bond, the links he'd imbued between them earlier, or just his own inclinations that made Ethan feel Rupert's arousal as his own? He groaned quietly and leant his face towards Rupert for a kiss, who complied, lingering with their lips brushing together.

'Rupert,' Ethan sent, his hands moving, squeezing and sliding. 'I'm hungry, tired and I hurt, but more urgent than all that, I need you.'

'I'm here,' Rupert replied, but he didn't do anything more than just wrap his arms tighter around Ethan. 'Always.'

Ethan pulled back a little, frowning. "Not in the mood? You *feel* in the mood." He glanced down pointedly at his hands.

"I'm always going to react to your touch. I could be half-dead and I'd still react. But--"

Ethan's hands dropped to his sides. "But you don't want it, want me, right now."

"I always want you," Rupert argued, sliding his own hands down to take hold of Ethan's. "I want you here, with me, touching, talking, just being. I just don't want to fuck right now."

Ethan pursed his lips and said nothing, staring over Rupert's left shoulder. It was stupid to feel hurt. Of course Rupert was tired and stressed.

"Or we could forget touching and talking and just go with silent staring," Rupert said dryly. He moved his head so that his face was in Ethan's line of vision again. "Not my first choice, but as long as I'm with you..."

Ethan closed his eyes and tipped his head down. "Sorry," he mumbled and wrapped his arms back around Rupert. "I just wanted to feel... better."

"And I can't make you feel better without sex?" Rupert asked gently.

"Sex is the easy route." This really wasn't a conversation he wanted to be having. "Let me wash my hair, and we can get out of here."

Rupert grabbed the shampoo before Ethan could. "I'll do that," he said quietly, switching to mind speech to add, 'Let me pamper you a bit. Take care of you.'

'Sex would be pampering.' It was a last ditch attempt however, and Ethan could feel himself giving in. Rupert was not, after all, the only tired one, and his shoulder really was aching.

'Sex would be sex,' Rupert replied. 'It would be too... desperate right now. Besides, don't you like this?'

As Rupert massaged the lather into Ethan's scalp, Ethan kept his eyes closed and was surprised to find just how close he was to dropping off. While standing up in the shower. Not a good sign. 'Yes, it's very soothing,' he acknowledged a little drowsily. Well, he could hardly deny it, could he? 'It's just...'

'You don't think I want you unless I'm willing to fuck you?'

Ethan cringed. 'It's not the willingness; it's the wanting to, the...needing me.'

"I do need you," Rupert said, speaking aloud. He turned Ethan around to face him. "I don't think I can begin to describe how much. Sex is a very, very small part of that. If we never had sex again, I'd still need you more than I've ever needed anything or anybody else."

"I know. I *do* know. I..." Ethan just didn't have the words for this, and that was partly why sex was so important to him, he realised. It allowed him to say so many of things that were far too difficult to verbalise. Things such as 'I need you in order to live, to carry on breathing', or 'I want to give you something; I want to give you *me*', or even 'I need to know you trust me, need me, love me, desire me... please show me'. He whimpered softly. "We are, um, still going to have sex again, aren't we? You didn't mean...?"

Rupert chuckled. "Yes, we're still going to have sex. Just not right now."

"Ok," he said meekly and bowed his head under the spray for his hair to be rinsed. 'Pampering is nice too.'

Rupert rinsed out the shampoo from Ethan's hair then turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a large towel and holding it open for Ethan to step into. Letting himself be enveloped within the warm cotton, Ethan managed to think up another objection. "Sex is a two-way thing... well, normally. And much though I'd hate to disprove my reputation for being a selfish brat, I'd like to be looking after you too."

"You are," Rupert assured him. "You do."

Hmm. Ethan supposed it was just about within the bounds of possibility that looking after him was sometimes as comforting for Rupert as being looked after was for Ethan. He kissed Rupert softly and murmured, "Thank you."

A quick spray of antiperspirant under his arms later, and Ethan was walking out of the bathroom to look for some clothes. Perhaps it was some subconscious instinct that had made him wrap a towel around his waist, or perhaps just habit. Either way he was glad of it, as waiting for them in one of the armchairs was Kat.

Probably a good thing they hadn't started shagging in the shower then.

Kat pointed at the other armchair. "Sit," she said. "Let me take a look at your shoulder."

"Hello Kat," he said loud enough to warn Rupert they had company. Skunk trotted over to say hello, and he bent to ruffle her ears. "You won't mind, I assume, if I put some trousers on first?" His eye fell on the coffee table between the two chairs. "Oh, is that the promised ambrosia?"

"That's the tray Mrs. B asked me to bring up for you and Giles, yeah. You can eat when I'm fixing your shoulder."

"Look away like a well brought up girl, and while I put these on, you can tell me what's happening with our captive," Ethan told her as he liberated trousers from the wardrobe and pants from the drawer.

"We've got her locked in one of the spare bedrooms. Heavily sedated for now. We considered using chains, but Xander didn't think that actually was going to be a good first step in winning her trust," Kat said, averting her eyes as asked.

"And forced drugging is?" Ethan shook his head. He knew which he would prefer. Kat just shrugged. He pulled on his clothes and walked over to her. "My cut just needs something over it to stop it bleeding,"

"*I'll* take a look at your shoulder and then decide what it needs. Which of us has healer training after all?"

"I have pattern sight," he pointed out, but he knew perfectly well that he was arguing because he didn't want Kat to stay long, which wasn't a very hospitable way to feel, but he was uncomfortable around all of them currently.

Both Kat and Megan had gone out of their way to tell him in the past that he wasn't the evil man that Rupert's Sunnydale children had thought him. What would the girls think now, if they knew what he was doing with his days? He'd appreciated their loyalty so much, born as it was from the fact that he *did* care and *had* stood by them. Would they now believe he would sacrifice either of them if it proved necessary?

He sat down as he had been bid. "Good boy," Kat teased him, patting his uninjured shoulder before starting to tend to the injured one. "This needs stitches really, but I don't have the silk for that."

She seemed to be doing a good deal more than just putting something over the wound to stop it bleeding, but her touch was deft and gentle enough that he barely felt it, although he caught various herbal scents and felt changes in temperature. Afterwards, whatever she had done also seemed to be easing the ache that he had resigned himself to having to deal with.

"Thank you," he said. "You haven't lost your touch. Am I allowed to eat yet?"

"Go. Eat. Mangia, mangia. It'll help you recover." Kat grinned at him and patted his good shoulder again. "Now as soon as Giles decides to stop hiding in the bathroom, I can check him out and get out of your way."

"He's shaving," Ethan asserted, more in hope than actual knowledge. 'Coming out, dear?' he sent to Rupert.

Rupert appeared in the bathroom doorway then, wearing his robe and freshly shaven. He looked better than he had, but still the strain and exhaustion was visible around his eyes. "I'm fine, Kat," he assured. "A few scrapes and bruises maybe, but nothing more serious than that."

Kat stared at him hard, arms crossed over her chest. "I wouldn't go so far as to say fine, but I'll take your word that you weren't injured in the fight. Mostly because I know Ethan would rat you out if you had been."

Ethan chuckled and lifted a bowl of stew and dumplings from the tray, wanting to eat it before it got too cold. To his delight, Mrs B. had put the bowls on heating rings, so the stew was still hot and palatable. "Oh, this is good, Rupert. Come and eat. Kat has patched me up as good as new. You might want to talk to her about the arrangements for our new guest however. Sedation doesn't seem enough to overcome Slayer self-preservation to me."

"It'll do for tonight," Rupert said, crossing the room and taking the other chair beside the table. "We're using a special Council formulation designed for Slayers. In the morning, we can talk to her, see if we can't undo Francesca's brainwashing." He glanced at Ethan. "I'll want you to check her for any Dark Chaos contamination as well."

"Already done to a point," Ethan said between mouthfuls. He still didn't think any sedative was enough to keep a Slayer down for long, but he wasn't the Head Watcher for good reason. "She's free of anything current; there's residue however, as if spells have been done upon her in the past."

Rupert grimaced. "I feared as much. In which case, once we get her to see us as something other than the enemy, it might be a good idea to send her down to Devon for a while to recover."

Ethan nodded. "I concur quite thoroughly. We can't keep her here; there may be programming that could kick in at just the wrong time."

"If there is anything like that, Mary and Jonah should be able to deprogram her again," Kat offered.

Ethan knew he should volunteer to help, or Ian should, but neither of them could afford the time currently. He wiped around the inside of his bowl with the crusty bread provided. "If you don't eat up, Rupert, I'll spoon-feed you in front of Kat."

Which at least caused Kat to giggle if nothing else. "As interesting as that sounds, I think I'll leave you two alone for a bit. Megan and I are going to do an extra patrol before bed tonight, just in case."

Ethan looked up, properly meeting her eyes for the first time. "Is... is everyone all right, Kat?"

"Yeah," she replied, smiling at him. "That," and she nodded towards his shoulder, "is the worst that the good guys suffered. Pretty decisive repelling of the enemy if I do say so myself."

"Yay to us." Ethan tried to make his tone less sarcastic than the words sounded in his mind.

Kat shrugged. "Hey, take our victories where we can," she said with a grin. "We're standing, they're not. That's good enough for me."

"Thanks for coming up, sweetheart." Ethan smiled at her, trying to make what was obviously a 'bugger off now' as nice as humanly possible.

"I can take a hint," she replied good-naturedly. "I'm going already." She headed for the door, tossing a grin and a little wave over her shoulder as she left.

Ethan closed his eyes and sunk low in the chair, leaning his head back into the cushions. "None of them will ever forgive me."

Rupert reached over and took his hand. "They're Slayers. If... They'll understand."

Ethan snorted. "Buffy's a Slayer. I made a deal with her, you know. A deal I'm currently breaking in so many different ways."

Rupert was silent for a few moments before offering softly, "I'd only known Buffy for a few months the first time I had to send her out to prophesized death. I didn't want to. I was looking for another way, a loophole. She overheard me talking about it." He smiled slightly. "To say she didn't take it well might be a bit of an understatement. Yelled and screamed and threw books at me." The smile faded. "She said she didn't want to die. I don't think she ever sounded so young to me. Part of me was so relieved when she said she quit, that she wasn't going to go."

That made Ethan look up sharply. "And if Dawn says no?"

"I was going to go in Buffy's place," Rupert said, as if not hearing the question. "But she changed her mind. Came back and told me, and knocked me out to keep me from stopping her. When it came down to it, she couldn't let everyone else suffer because she was afraid. I think that's the moment when I figured out what truly makes a Slayer." He glanced up at Ethan then away again. "Dawn is from the same mould. She won't say no."

Rupert still hadn't eaten a sodding mouthful. As Ethan had nothing helpful he could say about what Rupert had just said -- it was too painful and too current -- he stood and lifted the uneaten bowl of stew from the tray. Sitting on the arm of Rupert's chair, he filled a spoon and lifted it towards Rupert's mouth. "Come on, dearheart. Mrs B. will be very cross with me if you don't eat."

Rupert gave him a faint smile then opened his mouth. "And you think you don't look after me."

"I never said that," Ethan argued, as he lifted another spoonful. "I said we couldn't both pamper each other simultaneously."

"Can't we?" Rupert pulled back enough to pick up Ethan's spoon from the empty bowl and dip it into the stew. "Seems to me that there are ways," he finished, bringing it up to Ethan's mouth.

Ethan smiled, but pulled his head back. "No, dearheart. I've had mine, and you need to eat this. You've pampered me plenty already."

Rupert gave a half shrug and ate the spoonful himself. "Doesn't mean I want to stop."

Snorting softly, Ethan ran his hand over Rupert's damp hair, flattening it down a little. "You can start again after you've eaten. Are you going to feed yourself then? Because if you are, I'll busy myself with important kissing and stroking duties. Not to mention vital stuffing my face with pudding responsibilities."

"I'm quite capable of feeding myself," Rupert responded with dignity. "You just get impatient."

"I just know you. Far too well." This was nice though, sitting beside Rupert and engaging in mock bickering as if everything was normal and everyday. Ethan kissed him softly on the temple, and Rupert slid a hand over Ethan's thigh, patting it fondly as he pointedly took another mouthful of the stew.

Ethan reached for one of the bowls of apple pie and cream and began to tuck in. "If you grew up with food this good, how did you ever adjust to California?"

"I hadn't been eating here for quite some time before I went to California," Rupert reminded him, adding almost as an afterthought, "And I don't think I'm that bad a cook."

"Better than me, anyway," Ethan agreed with a laugh. "I don't think Mrs B. has heard of cholesterol and the evils of saturated fat... which probably explains why this all tastes so sinfully good."

"Generally, given our line of work, the evils of saturated fat are the least of our worries."

"True," Ethan agreed more glumly, his thoughts inevitably taken back to their current situation. Ah, bugger it. Not tonight. He pressed his lips against Rupert's jaw in a quick kiss before finishing his pie. "I love it when you've just shaved."

"No longer fond of the stubble look?" Rupert asked with amusement.

"Oh, that has something going for it too, especially when combined with your leather jacket. But my lips in particular prefer you freshly shaved, your skin silky and sweet smelling, and nothing there that's going to remove the top layer of *my* skin."

Rupert grinned. "Perhaps I just like leaving my mark on you."

Ethan chuckled a little darkly. "Remember when I used to beg you to hurt me enough to leave scars? I was such a prat. Really, I was." His fingers moved over the invisible brand on his arm. "You wisely knew the time wasn't right to mark me then."

"It scared me sometimes," Rupert admitted, brushing a finger over the brand himself. "Your need to be hurt, the way it felt to do so... We walked a fine line back then. Compared to what we have now, we were so far apart even when we were together."

"It's hard to remember now in some ways." Ethan tried to imagine being that boy again, wild and fucked up, full of self-destruction and excess. "I suppose I wanted you to hurt me so that you'd break through all the masks and poses -- all those deceptions I'd put up to protect myself from the world. I didn't want to keep you out, but I... I didn't know how to let you in."

Rupert brushed a light touch over Ethan's cheek. "And I could never hurt you enough to destroy the masks completely. I'd get... glimpses inside, flashes of what even then I somehow knew was something that could change me completely. But there was never more than that. Not then."

Rupert had finished his stew so Ethan took the bowl from him and put it on the tray together with his own. He lifted the second dessert bowl and spoon and then slipped down into Rupert's lap, holding them ready to feed Rupert if necessary. "Do you think we would ever have got where we are now without the things that happened to us while we were apart?" It was the same question he'd already asked a great many times, he knew, with slightly different wording. But still, he wanted to hear the answer again.

"I think so," Rupert replied after a thoughtful silence. "It took us longer than maybe it should have, but we finally grew up. Grew together." Rupert leant in and kissed him lightly.

Growing together was exactly what they were doing. With his sight, Ethan could see it so clearly. He didn't mention these things to Rupert; not after Rupert had been so uptight about what had happened the first time they had used Harriet's enchanted makeup together. But there was a symbiosis between them now that meant, as Lucy had predicted months ago, that neither one of them could survive without the other.

"I have no regrets, my Ripper," he said softly. "Not a one."

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