TITLE: The Plant of the Soul (7/10)
AUTHOR: dermawoman (smkwandr@rcn.com)
PAIRING/S: B/G/E
RATING/S: Fan-Rated Rating: frAO (Adults only; erotica).
CONTENT: Amateur psychological analysis, vulgar language, and threesome smut.
SUMMARY: Ethan tells Giles what his mother told him before she died; Buffy spends "quality time" with her Watcher and his `aging boy-toy.'
DISCLAIMER/S: Without prejudice. The names of all characters contained herein are the property of Joss Whedon, Sand Dollar Productions, Mutant Enemy, the actors who portrayed them, the production companies, and the studios. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.

Thursday, 29 July:

Giles was mostly asleep, but he felt Ethan clamber over him out of bed and fell asleep again. He woke later, turning towards the middle of the bed, but his friend was not there. Dread gripped him--where had that man got to now? Buffy lay sleeping, an arm thrown out as if seeking someone to hold. Giles left the bed and immediately saw Ethan when he scanned the room.

The ex-sorcerer was stretched out on the luxurious recamier lounge that Buffy bought for him, wearing sensuous silk pajamas in a lurid leopard print, a teapot steaming on the side table with a cup and saucer. He held one of his father's journals, the Art Deco Egyptian-style torchiere lamp behind the chaise illuminating him with a soft, rosy glow. He must have heard Giles, because he looked up and smirked. For an instant, Giles thought he looked like he used to--Chaos Lord Ethan--but now age and pain lines circled his eyes, and his smirk held none of the malevolence it once did.

"If Travers were still working on the illustrated OED, your photo would be next to the definition of sybarite," Giles muttered, stalking towards the bathroom. When he returned, Ethan's position was unchanged, but one of the armchairs was drawn up to the recamier, and a second cup and saucer were on the side table.

"If you'd sent my photo and the definition of sybarite to Travers, he'd probably have had a coronary," Ethan murmured, "or thought you misspelled sodomite."

Giles sat in the armchair and drank his tea, then thought about the incongruity of the scene and snorted. "Since when did either of us drink tea? I spent the last four years of my life having the caffeine shakes, worrying about my Slayer, her instant little sister, and next month's apocalypse."

"Since your Slayer Princess and her instant little sister discovered Europe and all the yummy things in it," the former mage drawled. "Besides, I've missed tea these past few years."

That remark sobered Giles. "Did you sleep well?"

"No nightmares, but I've been--uneasy--since reading my--my father's journals," he replied. "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd read. There are some things you should see--"

"Ethan, I don't want to pry--"

"I'm asking you to read it, that's not prying," he said quickly, picking up the oldest of the four journals and handing it to Giles. "Read the entries tagged with the red sticky-notes, then tell me what conclusions you draw."

A chill entered and shuddered in the pit of his stomach as Giles read the marked entries. When he finished reading the oldest journal, Ethan merely handed him the next, then the third when he was done with it. When he was finished, Giles stared with an expression of horror and shock at Ethan. Adam Rayne's journals disgusted him far more than he could easily put into words. Ethan looked at him, "Well, what do you think?"

"I--I can't find the words--" he stammered from anger and indignation, "I--I can only recall a flip phrase Buffy's friends used in high school-- `sociopathic much?'" He shuddered and ran a hand through his hair. "Good lord, Ethan, I knew it was difficult for you when you were young, but the man actually believed you weren't his son! I mean, it's too cruel for words!"

Ethan poured more tea into their cups and set the little pot down, putting his hand out as Giles reached for his cup. "What if I told you that he may have been correct?"

"Ethan! You can't believe the horrendous things he's written about your mother and you! Do you?" the Watcher exclaimed, aghast.

"My mother told me, when she was in hospital and dying, that she made a great mistake marrying Adam Rayne," he said, a distant look in his eyes. "I asked her what she meant; she said she'd been dating Adam, but also secretly seeing another man."

"Did she tell you who he was?"

"He was a research librarian named Maxim Sirk, and she'd been `intimate with him in the stacks' as she put it, to get help in Ancient Languages. She said he'd been `more intimate' than my so-called father."

"Why didn't she go to the Auger?"

"She said an administrator's son would have more chances than a librarian's son; she also said that his colleague was also his lover."

"Who was she?"

"*He* was named Basil--" Ethan smirked, "--she never told me anything about Sirk," he added; "you know that I left Oxford the day after her funeral and never returned. Well, except to see you."

"Except to see me," Giles echoed, "and I told you to sod off. God, I'm sorry I was so cruel to you then." The cup of tea forgotten, he moved to perch next to Ethan on the recamier, wrapping his arms around him in a consoling embrace.

"You were living with your own pain then," Ethan mumbled in the embrace; "I can't imagine what I was thinking to have you raise Eyghon; I had to have been insane."

"Based on his journals, Adam Rayne must have driven you insane," Giles said as they relaxed their hold on each other. "But it doesn't explain why he made his will in your favor if he believed you weren't his biological son."

"I think he may have felt guilty after Mother died and I left," he murmured, picking up the last book from his lap; "I haven't finished this one, but he wasn't well. I think he realized, too late, that possession is nine-tenths of the law--I was his son de facto, and he could have raised me any way he pleased, but by alienating me, he missed the chance to make me into his image--a good little Watcher drone."

Later that same day:

For the first time in a month, the "Scooby school of cuisine" was stumped for a lunch menu. Faith took one look at the motley array of foods in the fridge and declared that it was "clean-up- the-leftovers-day," which translated into a huge, top-it-yourself, mutant Cobb salad which could be covered by cubes of tofu, cheeses, ham, sausage, chicken, roast beef, salmon, tuna, and some things only Xander was brave enough to eat.

Ethan's financial statements arrived in the mail from the Bank of England, indicating that he was a wealthy man. After lunch, Ethan and Giles examined the reports dispassionately and thoroughly in the bedroom. "I'd give it all back if my mother were alive to tell me why she deceived three men," Ethan whispered.

"Three? Why three?" Giles asked in surprise.

"She said she never told Sirk, and she certainly never admitted it to my--to Rayne, and she never told me until she was on her deathbed," he replied. "I was--what, nineteen? I never understood why my father disliked--hated--me so much; I always thought he could tell that I was different from everyone else." Ethan sighed and looked bleak. "I know you put me onto the new Watchers' Council payroll," he added, "and I appreciate your taking care of me, I really do, but I should repay all the money you spent and gave to me. I have money of my own now, and--and I don't want to be a burden to you." He avoided looking Giles in the eye.

"You'll never be a burden to me, Ethan," Giles replied, "I love you too much to ever think of you that way again, and the new Watchers' and Slayers' Council needs you," he reached out and gripped his friend's hand.

"I don't know how I can help you, Ripper," Ethan whispered plaintively, "My magickal life has been Chaotic and dark; you don't need my negative energy in your organization."

"Hey, hey--enough with the negativity!" Buffy exclaimed, surprising them both. She had entered the bedroom silently, and now walked to where Ethan and Giles sat, financial reports strewn about them. "Ethan, put your past behind you, but don't undervalue your experience," she said, hugging him affectionately.

"My experiences have all been dark, Princess, and any Watchers' Council worth its salt would reject out of hand anything I have to offer," he mumbled.

"We're not just _any_ Watchers' Council," she replied, massaging his shoulders, "we're the new, improved, post-modern, turbo-charged Slayers' and Watchers' Council. Besides," she added, "not all your experiences were dark--you met Rupert."

He tensed beneath her hands and Giles became somber. "That wasn't an entirely bright experience, either," Giles said softly, "We practiced dark magicks--"

"Yes, yes, heard the sad story before," Buffy snapped impatiently, "Practiced dark magicks, raised things that ought not have been raised, et cetera. But you keep forgetting the epilogue to that chapter of your lives."

"And what is that, Princess?"

"You're here, you're alive; okay, a little worse for wear, but you're both here and both in my bedroom," she said, "Ethan, you did some awful things, but they weren't awful enough--you never killed me or Rupert when you could have--you weren't fast enough, or evil enough, or whatever, and we know you could have if you really wanted to, so some part of you didn't want to," she wrapped her arms around him from behind and hugged him tightly. "Don't sell yourself short; you made Giles a better Watcher, and he made me a better Slayer, and I'm a good enough Slayer to know that we need all the help, all the experience, we can get our hands on, and that includes you, and I'm not going to let you get away, even if I have to tie you down to keep you."

"Mmm," Ethan purred, tipping his head back, "is that a promise?" Buffy replied by gripping his forearms, pinning them to his thighs, and passionately kissing his neck. The reports slid off his lap onto the floor; his eyes fluttered shut, he moaned erotically, and arched his body off the recamier.

Giles groaned and picked up the reports. "Did you come up here to tease my fiancé, or to tell us some other news?"

"If I wanted to tease your fiancé," she said, releasing Ethan's neck; he whimpered unhappily, "I'd have tied him down and invited you to play with us." He moaned again, and Giles rolled his eyes. "Actually, Dawn's off with Malcolm again, and Willow wants to know what you two are planning for dinner, because if you're not cooking, Xander wants to do burgers on the grill."

"Lovely, American food on top of all this," Giles muttered, waving at the financial reports.

"You were always best on top, Ripper," Ethan murmured seductively, Buffy's strong hands still restraining him.

"Does your mind _ever_ come out of the gutter?" he asked in exasperation.

"Okay, you two--bed--here--now," Buffy suddenly said, pulling Ethan's arms above his head. She moved back when he stood and hauled his arms behind his back, holding his wrists with one hand, unbuttoning his shirt with the other, pushing him towards the bed.

"Buffy, you must be joking," her Watcher said.

"Will you tease him, or would you rather _I_ tease him?" she replied, ending with a growl and a pinch of Ethan's nipple that made him whimper again, and Giles roll his eyes again. "Lose the shirt," she told him, releasing his wrists. He quickly peeled it off and dropped it; she pulled his arms behind his back again and yanked the fashionable sash out of her jeans to bind his wrists together and to the bedpost at the foot of the bed. "Rupert, pull back the quilt, please?" she asked as she walked to the bathroom.

Giles stood and approached the bed. Ethan's eyes were closed, and he was still breathing heavily from Buffy's rough attentions. Her kiss had left a bite impression and darkening skin on his neck. He flexed his recently built-up muscles, testing her bonds, and Giles could see the outline of his stiff cock straining against his very tight jeans. He was tempted to put a matching blemish on the other side of his neck. Without any conscious thought, Giles's feet, hands, and lips were standing before Ethan, gripping his shoulders brutally, pulling him close, showering kisses down his neck before reaching just the right place to sink his teeth into the man's neck and suck his skin. Ethan moaned and panted faster, leaning his groin into Giles's, their aroused cocks straining against the barrier of denim and twill.

Buffy returned from the bathroom and muttered, "So much for turn-down service in this place," as she pulled back the quilt and covers, moving two of the pillows aside so she could tie Ethan to the metal headboard safely, if not comfortably. Both Giles and Ethan were distracted when she slapped Giles's rump; "Do you think we can share the pleasure and pain here?" she asked sharply, as he eyed her distrustfully, rubbing his backside. She untied Ethan's wrists from the bedpost; "Get on the bed, on your back, and grab the headboard." Ethan obeyed, and she rearranged him on the pillow, bound his wrists again, looped the sash through the metal headboard, tying it with a loose bow and sliding the ends through for him to hold.

She reached over him and picked up the cellphone from the bedside table, pressing a pre- programmed button. "Hey, Wills," she said crisply, "Let's go with the burgers; they can't think of anything, so Giles will just have to deal." She listened to Willow on the other end of the conversation, then casually remarked, "I'd love to, but you guys go; Ethan and Giles hafta go over these financial statements and they were falling into comas when I got here, so I'm spending some quality time with my Watcher and his aging Boy Toy--" Ethan hissed and tried to hit her with an elbow, but missed; "--yeah, and could you leave a note for Dawn and Malcolm that we're working up here and can't be disturbed before, oh, five or something? Great, thanks, I appreciate it."

At her `can't be disturbed before five' remark, their eyebrows shot up. Unfortunately, they couldn't shoot up any higher as she reached for the bedside table, pulled out the sleep mask printed with "90% Devil" and slipped it over Ethan's eyes.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, Princess!" he exclaimed, "Do you really have to--oww!" he yelped as she tweaked a nipple painfully.

"You will call me Mistress," Buffy whispered roughly into his ear, "or I'll discipline you." She knelt at the foot of the bed, undid the rivet on Ethan's jeans, unzipped, and tugged them off his bony hips. His rock-hard cock sprang up, freed from the tight denim; he dressed `commando' as a habit.

"Yes, Mistress," he panted breathlessly, his cock twitching before her.

Giles was about to speak when Buffy put a finger to her lips and tugged his shirt; he peeled off his clothes nearly as fast as she had stripped Ethan. She stroked his cock a few times, and Giles hardened; she passed him a condom and lubricant and he understood.

She moved off Ethan; "Prin--oww!" he gasped as Giles roughly pinched his other nipple and climbed onto the bed. Buffy shed her white jeans and red peasant top, unhooking her brassiere and shimmying down her panties; Giles watched her raptly, getting harder. When she was naked, she rolled her eyes and waggled her fingers in the international `get on with the gay sex, will you?' gesture.

Giles covered his fingers with lubricant and lifted one of Ethan's legs, his fingers circling his sensitive rear opening. He silently pushed one finger into Ethan's muscle ring, moving it back and forth until he relaxed. Ethan gasped and thrust up his hips; "Oh, please, Ripper, please take me, fuck me, fuck me now!"

"Patience, you skinny slut," Giles muttered as he inserted another finger, repeating the process, getting more frenzied thrusts from Ethan as he panted frantically. Buffy kissed down Ethan's neck to his nipples, which she worried like a dog with a bone until he was squirming beneath her and whimpering incoherently.

After Giles inserted three fingers, Ethan thrust up once more and gasped, "Oh, please, Ripper, please fuck me, please, fuck me now, please; I can't wait any longer!"

Giles rolled a condom onto his cock and lifted his hips to enter his rear opening. The muscle contracted reflexively, and he paused; Ethan squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply, willing his sphincter to relax as the man above him pushed deeper, slowly beginning to thrust, seeking the rhythm that would drive his lover wild.

"Oh, gods, Ripper, please fuck me, please take me, please fuck me now!" Ethan moaned, trying to thrust and prevented by Giles's strong hands on his hips, his legs in the air.

"I'm sorry, what is it that you want?" he asked, stopping his movements.

"Please, Rupert, please, fuck me now; please take me now, Rupert, please," the bottom man moaned in a breathless whisper.

"Beg harder for me, Ethan," Giles purred ferally into his lover's ear.

"Please, Rupert, please fuck me now; I'll be good; please take me now," he begged, "Please, Ripper, please, please move your cock in me now;" his breath hitched in his chest as his body quivered from arousal, "please, I'll be good; please take me hard, please take me rough," he whined, trying to move his hips for more contact; "Oh, gods, Ripper, push into me, ram into me, bugger me until I sob, and scream, and scream your name over and over again."

"That sounded sincere, don't you think?" Buffy said, brushing her thumbs over Ethan's nipples, making him pant breathlessly.

Giles pushed forcefully into Ethan, his hands holding his thighs; Ethan tried to lunge but both the scarf and Giles's hands restrained him. Buffy saw that Giles was losing his traction, so she carefully caught the back of Ethan's knee with one hand, surprising them both. Ethan kept panting, moaning, and whining, and she covered his mouth with hers.

He groaned and writhed and his passion surged as Giles moved his cock within him. His unsatisfied desires burned as his lover's thick cock rubbed the tight channel, striking the hot spot repeatedly, until Ethan's fervor burst into flames. He tried to wheeze and scream from the arousal, but Buffy's mouth covered his; they heard him projecting into their minds, < "Ripper! Ripper! Ripper! Ripper Ripper Ripper--Rip--Rip--Rip--Rip--!!" >; Giles sucked a nipple and clutched his cock as it spurted a jet of thick semen over his chest. A moment later, he felt Giles's cock within him, its muscles tightening, gushing hot cream, distending the condom he wore in his tight passage, and his muscles pulsed involuntarily, causing Buffy and Giles to hold him more tightly, and Giles sucked and bit an earlobe, growling wordless expressions of lust into his ear.

After Buffy cleaned Ethan with a warm washcloth, Giles laid on the bed, his head near the foot board, Ethan's thin legs over his slender hips, their balls and cocks rubbing together. Buffy slid on condoms, straddled them, and guided their cocks into her. "Oh, my God, Princess," Ethan wheezed, "what are you doing?"

She pinched his hard nubs and removed the mask over his eyes. "That should be `oh, my Goddess,' and I learned this in Amsterdam."

"Amsterdam?" he squeaked as she tightened her Slayer-enhanced labial muscles around their cocks, "you're going to kill me--aahh!" he screamed hoarsely as she flexed her muscles again and threw her head back.

"Giles, stop that," she growled. He had placed one hand between her shoulders and the other stroked her rear opening; "Rupert, don't make me call you Snuggle-Muffin in public!" A wave of arousal washed over her, involuntarily contracting her muscles, and Giles dropped his hands, shaking from the sensations flooding his body.

"Oh, dear Lord!" he moaned as she lifted off their cocks only to push down again.

"Copy that," Ethan whimpered. Buffy positioned her hands on either side of his shoulders and bent down to suck his hardened nubs, alternating between them, her blonde hair brushing his chest. He grabbed the head board's bars and thrust frantically, panting and wheezing incomplete exclamations, wanting to grasp Giles's balls and roll them in his hand--or mouth. He arched off the bed, feeling Giles's cock stiffen even more in her narrow channel.

With her derriere closer, Giles resumed stroking her sensitive muscle ring, arousing her, sending her nerves over the orgasmic rainbow, and all her vaginal muscles trembled and clamped about the two organs within her. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" she panted, grabbing Ethan's shoulders and sucking his neck as the aftershocks of her climax receded.

"Ah--ah--ah--ah! Ahhh!" Ethan screamed hoarsely, his throat raw from wheezing, lungs out of breath from panting; his balls lifted, stroking Giles softly as they did, discharging a flood of semen into his condom, shuddering beneath her.

"Buffy!" Giles gasped, even more breathless than Ethan, expelling a stream of semen into his condom at nearly the same time, shaking beneath her.

Minutes later, she released Ethan's neck, discovering that he was panting heavily, his head thrust back, his eyes staring in shock at the ceiling as they did at the hospital. Giles carefully lifted her off their softening cocks, and caught the condoms before they leaked; he wiped Ethan quickly and strolled to the bathroom. She grabbed tissues from the bedside table to wipe herself. "Oh. My. Goddess." Ethan whispered, enunciating each word distinctly; "Princess, please untie me, luv. If you keep doing that to me, I'll die from a heart attack."

"No, you won't, Ethan," she said, flicking a nipple with thumb and forefinger, and he moaned tiredly; "will you?" she asked doubtfully, putting an ear to his chest. Her hair spread over him, and he groaned again, squirming beneath her. "Your heart is fine," she said, "don't wiggle," tickling his nipples and ribs with a twist of her hair, circling down his chest, reaching and teasing his cock until it was hard.

"Oh, please now, Buffy, don't do that to me, just let--ahh!" he screeched as she put her hands on his hips and took his cock into her mouth. Giles returned with rinsed warm washcloths on a waterproof tray; he watched them for a moment, sliding onto the bed to slip a hand beneath Ethan's head, kissing him passionately, sucking his lower lip. "Ripper, you aren't helping!" he puffed when his lips were finally released, "untie me--oohhh!" He squealed as she moved her lips and tongue around his cock, and was reduced to incoherent squeaks and wheezes until Buffy incited another shuddering explosion within him. "Aahhgg!" he screamed full-throated as he came, Giles enhancing his release by nibbling and nipping down his neck. "Please, I'll be good, really I will," Ethan whimpered, panting to catch his breath, "I'll be good now, just untie me, please."

Buffy released his cock and hips and leaned back. "Ethan, you could have gotten loose any time you wanted by just untying the sash."

"I know, but begging and wiggling and screaming is much more fun," he chuckled, the evil smirk and mischievous gleam in his eyes returning. Buffy leaned over him, one hand by his head, the other pulling the sash loose, her lips nibbling and sucking his lips until his hands were free and slid down to her breasts. "My turn now," he whispered into her ear, rolling her onto her back. His lips followed his thumbs, where he licked and nipped and sucked her nipples until she was panting like a marathon runner. He kissed down her rippling abdomen to her fragrant pubic mound, nuzzling her hair, separating her labia with his thumbs, tilting her hips up, sliding down to flick his tongue over her clitoris, sucking as she lunged up.

"Here," Giles said, passing him a condom; to Buffy, he asked, "Do you think you can take me while you're on your back?"

"Sure," she replied confidently, "just push the pillow under my shoulders." Giles arranged her comfortably and straddled her chest; she teased his cock with her tongue.

Ethan rolled on the condom and slowly entered Buffy's depths. Her muscles fiercely clamped down around him, and a shiver of excitement ran through him as he placed his hands on either side of her torso and pumped. At the same time, Giles carefully slid his cock into her mouth and let her set the pace, his hands next to hers gripping the head board for support. Just the thought of giving head and getting fucked at once aroused Buffy off the Slayer horniness meter, and she worked Giles's cock mercilessly, causing him to scream and erupt down her throat as she tilted her head back, accepting all his cream and sucking him dry. Moments later, Ethan's attentions caused her muscles to quiver and clench around his cock, and he yelped in surprise and pain, spurting his seed into the condom he wore.

Giles moved off her quickly. "Are you all right?" he asked solicitously.

"I'm okay, just a little breathless," she replied, and grabbed Ethan's shoulders before he could topple onto her.

"Oh, shit, Princess, my legs and cock are cramping," he groaned, clutching his thigh. He rolled off her, and she removed his condom and cleaned his cock.

"Fifteen minute catnap, then we hit the whirlpool," she said, clambering over him and pushing him into the middle of the bed. Giles picked up his digital watch--the one Xander gave him and he almost never wore, except when traveling--and pressed a button pre-programmed for an alarm in fifteen minutes. Buffy pulled the sheet over them; on her elbow, she looked at Ethan, "Was that good sex?"

"Oh, my Goddess, Princess, that was incredible sex," he sighed, a huge grin on his face, "but I am out of shape and you are going to kill me."

"Then we have to get you into shape in time for your wedding," she murmured near his ear, clasping him gently. He hugged her back desperately, like a man afraid of drowning, and Giles snuggled closer, twining his arm over Ethan's waist. They sighed as one, closed their eyes, and breathed deeply, until the watch beeped.

Very late afternoon, 29 July:

Dawn and Malcolm returned and saw the large note on the kitchen island. "We're grilling burgers and fries tonight," Willow wrote; "Buffy's upstairs with Giles and Ethan, going over the reports. Do NOT disturb before 5 p.m." A smiley face with a suggestive leer and wagging eyebrows was scribbled at the bottom of the page--Xander's cartooning skills, Dawn thought, and giggled.

"What's taking them so long with the financial reports?" Malcolm asked.

"I don't think it's financial reports at all," she replied, still chuckling. She took his hand and they walked silently to the stairwell. They could faintly hear Ethan's hoarse scream.

"Is he all right? I mean--" she covered his mouth with her lips and steered him towards the sofa.

"They're just having a little afternoon sex; Buffy and Giles scream," Dawn murmured, "so I'm not surprised that Ethan screams, too; he way kinkier than Giles."

"Sex?! Scream?!" Malcolm squeaked, shocked, arms flailing as Dawn pushed him onto one of the sofas, pulled off his shoes, his belt, unbuttoned and untucked his shirt.

"Sex--what men and women, women and women, men and men, or even a mattress-full of people do when they feel like it," she said, straddling his thin hips, her sundress hiked up over her thighs.

She locked her lips with his, her hands caressing his chest. He closed his eyes and moaned into her mouth as her fingertips toyed with his nipples, massaged his ribs, circled his navel. His hands slid nervously beneath her sundress, hesitantly stroking her, locating her breasts, slipping his thumbs into her bra, brushing her nipples until they hardened. He ruffled off her sundress, their lips separating for a moment. He turned onto his side and tipped her onto the sofa; they moaned and sighed as they probed each other's mouth. He tugged her bra off her shoulders, his mouth frantically kissing her lips, cheek, neck, nipples, where he stopped to suck and nip them. Her lips sucked, nibbled, nipped along his jaw, his earlobe, his neck, his nubs, he murmured, "Oh, Dawn, oh Dawn, oh, Dawn--" as they rocked into each other.

She unfastened and unzipped his trousers, sliding a hand down his briefs to massage his cock and balls. She sensed his approaching release, removed a condom packet from her bra, and pulled down his trousers and briefs in one movement. "Is that a stake in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?" she whispered, tipping him onto the sofa, sliding the condom onto him, rubbing the neck of his cock until he almost screamed from the arousal. She covered his mouth with her lips, her fingers still stroking until his whole body convulsed below her, and he ejaculated forcefully into the condom. He released her shoulders, his arms and head thrown back as his cock softened; Dawn slid the condom off, tied a knot in it, wrapping it in tissues.

"Uh--uh--" Malcolm moaned, lifting his head, his eyes still unfocused.

"How was the cheap thrill?" Dawn whispered, kissing him again.

"Oh, my God, Dawn," he panted hoarsely, "what was that?"

"Some very heavy necking--" she said softly in his ear, her fingertips moving over his body. Breathing heavily, he clasped her chest, sucking and biting her nipples. "Okay, we have to stop before they come down," she said, noticing how aroused he was becoming again, "can you walk to the half-bath? You should wash up, preferably with cold water--or maybe even an ice cube," she joked. He looked stunned. "Not literally!"

He pulled up his briefs and trousers, Dawn adjusted her bra and pulled on her sundress; he walked like a drunken man to the half-bath by the inside stairs. Dawn threw away the evidence and gave him a clean washcloth. He emerged, neatly tucked and zipped, a few minutes later, with a big grin on his face, shyly asking, "Pardon me--I hate to be rude, but--is there anything to eat around here?"

Friday, 30 July:

"Dawn, where are you going?" Giles asked as the young woman padded quietly down to the kitchen, before she thought anyone else in the house was up and about.

"Oh, hi, Giles," she replied nervously. "I'm going to pick up Malcolm at the inn; Buffy said he could have breakfast with us." She looked anxiously at Giles, quite unlike her usual self. "I mean, you don't mind, do you?"

"No, no, we don't mind at all," Giles said, taking her hand. "Will you come sit with Ethan and me for a moment?" he asked, his expression becoming serious; "it's about Malcolm."

"What about Malcolm?" Dawn said defensively, "if you think I'm--"

"Little Principessa, come sit next to me and keep me warm," Ethan said.

"No, it's not that at all," Giles said quickly, "it's something else completely. We--we want to tell you about the children some of us called the `Sad Boys,' although I suppose there were Sad Girls too."

"What are you talking about?" Dawn asked, now confused, sitting next to Ethan.

"Malcolm's parents were both Watchers, and they died when he was a child," Giles said; "his cousin, Ted, also died. Some of us at the boarding school, those of us with one or both parents still alive, used to call these custody students `Sad Boys,' because of--well, because of their sad appearance."

"That was kinda insensitive," she said sharply.

"Yes, in retrospect, it is," Ethan murmured softly; "but at the time, we were just children ourselves and knew nothing about the emotional trauma they'd experienced, and we both had our parents for a lot longer than most."

"Dawn, Malcolm hasn't had an easy life, and he hasn't had a comfortable life," Giles explained. "And his life probably got harder and harsher after his cousin died. He may be unable to express his feelings--"

"--I know that, Giles," she interrupted, "I could see that when I saw a really honest emotion in his eyes. Do you remember when Buffy was resurrected, and she just wasn't all there, all alive, right before you abandoned her and returned to England?" she snarled at him.

Giles sighed. "You won't let me forget that, will you?"

"If you hadn't left, she'd have never gone to Spike," she growled. "Anyway, my point is, that's the expression in Malcolm's eyes--it's like he's dead while he's alive, and he's just waiting for death to take him, as if he has no reason to fight for his life."

"That's an interesting way of phrasing it," Ethan said thoughtfully. "How are you going to remedy that condition?"

"I--I want to teach him to live again, to enjoy living, not just go through the motions," Dawn said, trying to put her feelings into words; "I--I want to be his friend. I mean, since his cousin died, I don't think anyone's said, `hey, we're going for pizza, come with us,' or `we're going to the movies,' or even something Watcherly, like, `come to sparring practice, then we'll have tea and review our notes to _Barlowe's Urban Demons_'--" even Giles couldn't resist a chuckle at the image, "--I mean, I like him, I like him a lot; I just want to be there for him. I just want to let him know that he's not alone, that there's someone he can talk to if he wants--or not," she said, tears in her eyes.

Giles leaned over and gave her a very fatherly kiss on her forehead, resting his forehead on hers for a moment. "Dawn, have I ever told you how far you've come, how much you've grown, since you've come into our lives?" he murmured. "I'm very proud to have you as my sister-in- law." He composed himself and leaned back against the other sofa. "Go collect Malcolm; Ethan and I will make breakfast."

Later the same day, 30 July:

"Giles, I just got the weirdest e-mail from Oz!" Willow shouted, pounding onto the deck and into the living room, breathless from running between their units. "Here, I printed it out," she said, thrusting the stack of pages at him.

Giles put down his glass and began reading, then his expression changed. He finished the first page, passed it to Ethan, then looked up at Willow. "Are you absolutely sure that this message is from Oz?"

"Yes, why?"

"I'm serious," he said, "is there any way someone could have faked his message, making you believe that this information came from Oz?"

"Giles, it's us, Oz and me, the computer geeks from way back," Willow said, unsettled by his doubt; "There's no way it could be a fake. It's from the chat client we use, and it's got all the encryption safeguards we use. Read it again, and it even sounds as if Oz is talking to us."

"Do you think the message is a fake, or the messenger?" Ethan asked.

That brought Giles back to reality; Dawn was spending all her waking hours with Malcolm since his asked to join the new Watcher's Council. He and Ethan had scanned the young man's aura that very evening. He was innocent, emotionally damaged, and physically injured.

Giles passed the rest of the print-out to Ethan. "Willow, what are the odds that oz would just e- mail you about a rogue Watcher and some undiscovered Slayers only days after we've received information from very reliable sources that the same rogue Watcher might be Ethan's biological father, not Adam Rayne?"

"Uff--" Willow said, sinking to sit on the rug at Giles's feet.

"Are you all right, Little Witch?" Ethan asked.

"Are you going all soap opera on us now, Ethan?" she asked, smiling weakly.

"It gets weirder," he smirked, handing her one of his `father's' journals. "Read the entries with the red tags."

The front door opened and crashed closed. "Sorry!" Dawn called out. "We're back; we went shopping!" The grocery bags and opening and closing of refrigerator and freezer doors made much noise.

"Dawn! Malcolm! Could you please come here?" Giles called out.

Dawn skidded around the corner, a suspicious expression on her face, with Malcolm behind her, an anxious one on his. "What do you want to see us about, Giles?" she asked distrustfully.

"It's just Watcher business," Giles said, smiling. "Ethan and I would like to ask Malcolm some questions about the Council's activities a few years ago."

"How many years ago?" She asked warily. For an energy key to an inter-dimensional lock, Dawn in protection-mode certainly acted exactly like Buffy, Giles thought. He desperately needed field Watchers, and knew that Keats's experience made him one of the most qualified people he had, but he didn't dare separate him from Dawn--it would be bad for both of them.

"It's all right, Dawn," Keats murmured, a hand on her shoulder; "What would you like to know, sirs?" He moved around her and stood stiffly, his hands clasped behind his back; Giles had the urge to say `at ease,' but he resisted it.

"We're not formal here; you must have noticed that by now," he did say, a bit irritated. "Come sit with us; it's not an oral examination every time we ask you a question." Dawn rolled her eyes and dragged Malcolm over to the sofa Giles occupied. She sat and crossed her legs on the cushion and pulled Keats down next to her, wrapping her arms across his chest, her chin on his shoulder, still eyeing Giles suspiciously. Ethan tried very hard not to smirk and failed. "What do you remember about a research librarian named Maxim Sirk?" Giles asked.

Keats looked slightly confused. "I don't recognize that name," he admitted, "Do you mean Rutherford Sirk?"

"Who's Rutherford Sirk?" Ethan asked.

"He was the Dispatch Administrator, working with your--with Mr. Rayne," Keats replied; "and he suddenly disappeared in November 2002. Mr. Travers and Mr. Rayne had Special Ops searching for him until the attacks."

"And you've never heard of a Maxim Sirk?" Giles pressed.

"Not that I can recall," Keats said. "But I have some Headquarters directories in my valise at Mrs. Brooks's inn; he may be listed in one of them."

"Ethan, your so-called father had serious problems," Willow said, finishing the tagged entries and returning the journal; "Who's Maxim Sirk?"

"I'm not sure, but he could be my biological father."

"Was he a Watcher?"

"Yes, it seems he was a restricted access librarian at Headquarters."

"Weirder and weirder," Dawn muttered, looking at the print-out of the e-mail.

"Um, ain't that supposed to be `tweedier and tweedier'?" They turned; Xander walked into the living room, closing the deck doors behind him. "Who, what, how--no, skip how," he added, pulling over one of the armchairs. "This looks very Scooby-esque, so dish the dirt."

"Ethan's father suspected that he wasn't his child," Willow said.

"Whoa--that rocks my world; are you saying that Watchers were frisky?"

Giles smirked this time. "You'd be surprised how common `premature births' are in Watcher families," he remarked. Xander's eyebrows shot up.

"You're saying that you guys and guyzettes actually fooled around?" he exclaimed; "So, why did Willow just high-tail it over here?"

"Here," Ethan said, passing him the print-out of Oz's message. "Your friends say this is from Oz."

"`WolfMan to RedWitch'--yeah, that's Oz all right," Xander said, looking over the pages and putting them in order. "`I didn't know werewolf fur was valuable and used in spells until I read a tabloid when I was in Alaska. Some guy in Vegas had placed an ad looking for `werewolf fur' and would pay good money for it, signed E. Rayne'." He raised an eyebrow. "What the heck is werewolf fur used for?"

"I don't know," Ethan replied, "it's not something that I would have used in the kind of magick I used to do."

"Wolf fur may have been used by the Native Americans," Malcolm said quietly, looking at Giles, expecting a reprimand, but Giles gave him a slight smile and nodded.

"Loup-garou," Willow said, pronouncing it `loo-garoo,' "it's Cajun French for werewolf, it might have been used in Louisiana and the Appalachians." She looked dismal. "Tara would have known."

Giles rubbed her shoulder; in response to Malcolm's curious look, he said, "Tara was Willow's first girlfriend; she was accidentally killed in a shooting where Buffy was the target."

"I'm sorry for your loss," the young man murmured; Willow patted him on the knee.

"Getting back to Oz," Xander remarked, waving the printout, "`So the band and I went to Las Vegas, and I sent a letter to the P.O. box. A tough chick picked up the mail, and I tailed her back to a seedy motel. Maxim Sirk puts mail-order magick ads in magazines and tabloids, people send him money, and he sends back the ingredients and spell. He's pretending to be Rayne; he said he was supposed to have met with the real Ethan Rayne, who's been missing for four or five years now. He moved into Ethan's motel room and paid the rent on the place, taking over his identity.'"

The front door crashed open again. "Willow?! Willow?!" Kennedy shouted anxiously.

"Living room, hon," Willow shouted. Kennedy, Buffy, and Faith slid around the corner, crashing into the room.

"Cripes, girl, you didn't even lock the front door," Kennedy exclaimed, "I was worried for a moment that the invisible demonic creditors had gotten you."

"We might have a reason why there have been no creditors," Ethan said, waving the Slayers over to his sofa. Buffy and Faith joined him; Kennedy sat on the floor and leaned against his legs to play footsies with Willow across from her.

"Okay, do we have critical Scooby mass now?" Xander asked. "To bring you guys up to speed, Ethan's late alleged father may not have been his biological father. Oz just e-mailed Willow about some old British guy and some `tough chicks' in Las Vegas. We suspect they may be related--in more ways than one," he waggled an eyebrow at Faith, and she smirked.

"Oz goes on to say, `I'm e-mailing you because Sirk is in really bad shape. He never got proper medical attention after he got beat up in 2003, and he's been living on tea, toast, and crappy shaved steak the girls saute for him with canned gravy. I did a urine test (don't ask--it's something I learned from the natives living in the Canadian Rockies),--'" Dawn and the Slayers all went "Euww!" "`--and bought him some vitamins and a case of bottled water, but it's not enough--he needs more medical attention than we can afford to give him. I think he's a Watcher who went rogue, or bonkers from too much tweed, and I hope Giles can do something for him, maybe hook him up with the Watchers' pension plan or something.' That's assuming there's any pension plan left," the young man added, looking up at Giles.

"It sounds like he's in bad shape," Dawn said.

"Someone will have to go out there and bring them back here," Buffy said, "as soon as possible."

"Do you mind? Can I keep reading this to you guys?" Xander asked with irritation. "`I mentioned I was from Sunnydale and knew a British librarian named Rupert Giles, and he twitched, like he'd heard of him. He's got three runaway girls living with him, which is funny because I don't think he swings that way; he's 80 if a day, and all but propositioned me when I met him.' Whoa--T.M.I. there, Oz!"

"Well, that might support the theory that gender preference has a biological component," Faith said, chewing a fingernail. The others stared at her in surprise. "What? I read when I was in jail--it's not like there was a lot else to do," she responded; "And Wood insisted on giving me educational modules whenever the mood struck him."

"Okay--Oz adds: `I'm pretty sure they're Slayers; I mean, you told me you did that thing to activate the Potentials, and I think these girls are active Slayers. The first girl found him in May 2003 while he was getting beaten by a gang. She whipped them and carried him back to the motel. He was in no shape to do anything for awhile, and she hung around so he didn't die--' that sounds serious," Xander looked at Ethan, who appeared anxious. "At least she stayed, right? He had someone looking after him."

"Go on," Ethan said softly.

"`He couldn't show her any self-defense moves, but he talked her through tai chi and some kick- boxing and she trained. She had a harder time getting behind the concept of vampires until one attacked her on a street corner one night. She found the other two girls, and now they patrol the area; the local cops leave them alone because they keep the unsolved death rate down.' Hey-- that's serious," he added.

"It worries me that the police are familiar with them," Giles said. "I hope they haven't generated arrest records, or we may have problems with their documentation."

"This next bit sounds really bad, G-Man," Xander stated, shaking the pages. "The girls told me he's terrified that his former employers from England will find him and kill him like they did his friend. He didn't tell them exactly what happened to his friend, or who they worked for, but the girls said he has horrible nightmares on really cold nights, and it's all they can do to keep him calmed down.' What could the Watcher's Council do that terrified some old guy?"

"The Council has done many unforgivable things that they felt justified doing, many of which were never documented," Giles said, "now that Headquarters has been destroyed, any records that did exist have been destroyed, as well."

"Well, here's the last bit of his message: `The room has some of Ethan's tacky Chaos magick stuff in it--'"

"--Tacky Chaos magick stuff--I resent that; my supplies are rare and valuable," Ethan objected; Willow and Buffy smirked.

"`--and a lot of Watcher-like stuff, manuscripts and the like. There's some medieval-looking texts that Giles ought to see, as well as some old scrolls--Egyptian hieroglyphics, some Greek, some really fragile Latin scrolls, and some things that are unrecognizable to me.'"

Dawn was the first person to speak after Xander finished. "Okay, it's possible that this guy could be Ethan's biological father, and there are girls who may be Slayers. Also, there's--" she paused diplomatically, "--Chaos magick stuff and manuscripts that you guys ought to see, _and_ you're getting married on the 14th."

"No pressure, dudes," Xander remarked casually, "just status quo for a night in Sunnydale."

"Oz added a P.S. that he'll be incommunicado for three nights," Willow added, "the thirty-first, the first, and the second, so it doesn't leave us much time to go out there and bring them back."

"What if they don't want to come back?" Kennedy murmured softly; Malcolm nodded.

"Ethan and I should fly out as soon as we can get a flight--" Giles began.

"--No, not both of us," Ethan interrupted, "that would look too much like we're Special Ops or have been sent by Special Ops, and--and I don't think I can handle this objectively."

"Excuse me," Malcolm said quietly, "But because undiscovered Slayers are present, it might be a good idea to have an established Slayer go and explain things to them, reassure them." He looked at Giles, Buffy, and Faith as if he were expecting objections.

"Yeah, that settles it," Faith nodded, leaning back in the sofa, "Giles and B go. You know, Bonnie and Clyde, Romeo and Juliet--"

"--Bonnie and Clyde?" Xander asked, "where the heck did that come from?"

"Jail movie nights--we were really getting sick of `The Birdman of Alcatraz'."

"--No, not us," Buffy replied, "Rupert and I shouldn't travel together unless we absolutely have to. If something happened to the plane, going out or coming back, someone has to be here to take care of Dawn and Ethan--"

"--I'm old enough to take care of myself now!" Dawn exclaimed.

"I think I could muddle through," Ethan murmured, not as stridently.

"Faith should go with you, Rupert. I've gotten too prissy, and I think I'm off my game. If they're as tough as Oz says, you need Tough!Slayer--and that's Faith."

"Why me?" Faith burst out. "Why not someone else, like Kennedy, or Rona?" They're Slayers, too."

"Yes, but they don't have the experience you and Buffy have," Xander spoke up. "You two taught all the Potentials, so you have way more seniority."

"Watch it with the `S' words, pal," Faith snapped, but not maliciously.

"Malcolm, Buffy, and Xander are right," Giles said, "Faith, I'm confident that you'll be able to meet these young women and convince them to come with us."

"Yeah, sure, but what about this old guy?" she asked, "How will we convince him?"

"We'll just have to do our best," Giles replied.

"Okay, any other Scooby business to take care of?" Xander asked, waiting a moment, then hitting the cocktail table with a coaster; "All right, meeting adjourned, live long and prosper, and may the Force be with you." Everyone left the living room, except for Malcolm and Dawn.

"Is it--are meetings always like that?" he asked, stunned.

"Pretty much," she replied, "were you expecting multi-media presentations and pie charts, or magick?"

"I--I didn't know what to expect," he said, "I didn't expect it to be so--so straightforward."

Willow made travel arrangements for Giles and Faith; they would fly out of Logan on August third and return with Sirk and the undiscovered Slayers on the ninth or thereabouts. Kennedy, who traveled every year of her life, with her parents or on her own, accompanied Faith to look over her luggage. The retractable-handle wheeled stowaway was fine, but the backpack was not, and they went shopping. Giles packed an attache case and a suitcase, refusing to worry about rogue Watchers, bonkers Watchers, hyperactive Slayers, tough Slayers, or undiscovered Slayers.

TBC

TBC

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