Title: The Watcher that Never Was 5/10
Author: Wickedfox
Rating: NC-17 (R for now)
Disclaimer: All Buffy stuff belongs to Joss Whedon, Fox, UPN, Mutant Enemy and other entities thereof.

"Tell me you have a trick up your sleeve," Buffy said anxiously as the two ferocious demon gangs closed in around them.

"What would you have in mind?" Ripper tossed his cigarette to the ground and glanced between the two daunting hordes.

"How 'bout another light show, for old times sake?" Buffy suggested and spun around, trying desperately to plan an escape or at the very least a good defensive hold position.

"That trick, as you referred to it, only works against vampires. We seem to be up against demons of a varying diversity at the moment." Ripper's voice went quiet as the demons surrounded them.

"Told you to leave town," a large lizard like creature stepped forward and Buffy's mind raced, trying to remember when she'd seen the demon before.

"Well I kinda..." she started.

"I don't follow orders from the likes of you, Nokashima," a towering brut covered with horns and fur growled from the opposing demon group. The others in his horde murmured in agreement.

"Sunnydale is ours. Leave now Theisis... or die!" The creature named Nokashima roared in response with accompanying growls and howls from his gang.

"I think we stumbled into the chewy, nutty center of a demonic turf war," Buffy whispered.

"It's your call Slayer," Ripper nodded, keeping his eyes on both sides.

"I think we better make with the leaving before these two gangs start their prom," Buffy spotted a couple of smaller spider-like demons and knew she could jump over them but wasn't sure about her less fortunate, Slayer power-lacking friend.

"Go for the Arachnisine couple and I'll meet up with you in the parking lot at the bottom of the hill." He suggested.

Buffy glanced up at him, "What are you gonna do?" she said with concerned look.

"Trust me!" He grinned.

"I want to taste your entrails meatbag!" Nokashima rushed forward with his gang following his attack. As demon claws and horns tore through the night air, Buffy dodged the oncoming attacks and sprinted toward the large scurrying spider creatures. She jumped just as the duo rushed towards her, striking at her as she took to the air. She easily cleared the barrage of demons and landed twenty feet from the closest creature. Looking back to see if her escort got clear, she saw he was still trapped smack dab in the center of the scuffle. Ripper just stood there, calmly muttering something to himself with his eyes closed in concentration. He was an easy mark.

"Ripper!" she yelled, wanting foolishly to go storming back into the conflict to help her new friend. But it was too late; his tall form disappeared from view in a sea of beastly violence.

****************

Ethan felt himself loosing control as the striking young crimson witch passionately licked along his lips once again. He'd barely managed to make it to the bed before she pounced on him with fevered anticipation, eager to taste more. But he had to resist, for both their sakes so he reluctantly pulled away.

"I'm sorry, my sweet. I can't allow this to happen," he whispered, trying to catch his breath.

Willow's face grew disappointed and Ethan looked uncertainly away from her confused and crinkled forehead as she tried to understand why he'd put on the brakes.

"It's me isn't it?" She squeaked, "I'm no good at this...inexperienced. I mean I've had a little experience but not with someone so mature and..."

"No, it's not you," Ethan took her hand and kissed it tenderly. How was he going to mend this without telling her the truth? Perhaps she'd understand if he told the truth. Perhaps he could throw caution to the wind and just rip her clothes off and praise every gorgeous inch of her silken skin with his tongue. "It's me. I can't."

Willow's eyes went wide, "Oh...oh god! I'm sorry. I had no idea you were unable to..." she jumped to her feet and straightened her dress. "I just assumed that with the kissing and the fondling and the..."

Ethan realized what she took his words to mean and started to laugh.

"Wow, you're taking this so well. I would think most men would be all embarrassed and..."

"I'm afraid you've misunderstood, my dear. I'm fully capable and very eager to pleasure you this lovely evening but I've vowed to remain celibate for the time being." He sat up and folded his hands into his lap. "Forgive me for leading you on. But I would love to go through with our original plans for some mystical tutelage, though. If your still willing?"

"Celibate? Huh...that's gotta be hard. Difficult! I mean difficult," Willow could feel her face blushing and she knew she'd already made a complete fool of herself. "I'd love a lesson or two, thank you."

"Take a seat, have a glass of wine and let me get my things. I'm sure we can conjure up something to take our minds off other more physical activities." Ethan strolled out into the lobby area and Willow sighed heavily.

"I hope so!" she pouted.

****************

Buffy watched the skirmish as she reluctantly walked backwards into the cemetery, trying her best to fade into the shadows but keep a lookout for Ripper. Blood and gore freckled the air and spilled along the ground as she searched the mob for her enigmatic stalker. She knew she could do nothing but come back after the gang war settled down, hoping to find the remains of her mystery man.

Just as she was about to give up hope, a trembling and sweaty hand slipped over her mouth and pulled her close against a large warm mass. She was dragged into some nearby bushes as she struggle to free herself, kicking and letting out muffled screams until she smelled the familiar musky scent of cigarette smoke and sandalwood tickling her nose. The grip over her jaw loosened and she jerked around to see Ripper bent over, panting heavily and sweating profusely.

"You're alive?" she gasped, puzzled by how elated she was to see him. She wanted to hug him but thought it would be way to awkward for the beginning of a relationship. After all, she hardly knew him...even though she felt like she did.

"You sound so surprised," he choked and tried to straighten up, quickly grasping his abdomen in pain.

Buffy glanced down and could see the glistening ruby red stain spreading across his white shirt. "You're wounded!" she knelt down and examined the gash. It was shallow but might need some stitches.

"Guess I wasn't quick enough. Messed up the second verse...had to start fresh," he hissed as she pulled the matted material away from the wound.

"Come on, I gotta get you to your place. You got a car?" Buffy wrapped her arm around his waist and tried to support his weight but Ripper wasn't about to let her see his weakness.

"Bike... parked at the base of this hill. I can make it. Just keep an eye out for demon tailgaters." He started to walk and Buffy followed along side.

"Alright macho man. I can't drive a bike anyway...I can't even drive a car!"

They managed to reach the bottom of the hill and Ripper cautiously straddled the Ducati Monster.

"Hurry it up Slayer. I'm bleedin' all over my bike. Don't want to mess up my paint," he reached out a hand to help steady her as she jumped on behind him.

"You're more worried about your motorcycle than you?" Buffy grabbed a handful of his leather jacket and leaned against his back as he started up the bike. "Remind me to discuss your priorities later. Where's your helmet?"

Ripper glanced back as if appalled she'd even asked the question.

"Fine...just be careful. My mom will kill me if you don't!" Buffy held onto his jacket firmly. She really wanted to wrap her arms around his waist but thought it best not to risk aggravating his wound while on such a hazardous vehicle.

They drove off into the night and Buffy couldn't help feeling a little turned on by the roar of the engine, maneuverability and speed of this dangerous machine between her legs. Ripper steered the bike expertly through the quiet streets, ignoring all traffic signals and pedestrian crossings. She bit her lip as they jetted speedily through a typically busy intersection, crossing her fingers that they would reach their destination safely.

"You do want to reach your hotel alive, right?" she yelled.

There was no answer and she felt the bike waver a bit as Ripper's head ducked forward. He was hurting; they needed to hurry.

****************

It was eating at Wesley's gut, keeping secrets from Buffy. How could she serve humanity well without being fully informed on hazards confronting her? She deserved to know the truth about Ripper, for better or worse. He drove speedily down Bradshire Drive, pushing his old Volvo to the limit as he glanced down at the clock. 10:45am, she had to be around the vicinity of St. Evensty Memorial Cemetery.

*******************

After a few twists and turns, they pulled into the familiar hotel parking. Buffy leapt off the bike before it had stopped moving and ran along side it, waiting until it slowed and she could assess Ripper's condition. Just as the bike stopped, he lurched forward against the grip and Buffy had to catch him before he collapsed to the pavement.

"Come on big boy!" she wrapped a supportive arm under him and guided him down the strip of hotel rooms. She carefully lowered him to the ground and propped him against the outside wall so she could search his pocket for the keys to the room.

The keys were hidden well and Buffy quickly deduced that he must have them tucked away in his pants pockets. She cautiously slipped her fingers into his front pocket and felt the edges of rough-cut metal she was looking for.

"Whatever you're searching for... " Ripper mumbled as she tugged on the key, "It's a little to the left." Buffy paused and glanced up at Ripper's sweat-soaked and grinning face.

"Why you dirty old man you!" she teased, pleased to hear he was in good spirits though injured.

"Old? You wound me Slayer," he leveraged himself up the wall, pushing with his straining legs to a standing position and Buffy helped keep him steady with her free hand as she removed the key from his pocket.

"For such a little scratch...you don't look so good," she unlocked the door and kicked it open as Ripper leaned toward her for support.

"Must have been toxin in the demon's claws. But I'm feeling a little better..." he wheezed and collapsed through the doorway to the floor in front of Buffy.

"I bet you are," she dragged him toward the bed as she kicked the door closed. Once she reached the bed, she cautiously lifted Ripper to the mattress and laid him out so she could treat his gash. She removed her jacket and prepared to operate, or at least bandage. A quick check of his forehead revealed he was running a bit of a fever and she hoped this wouldn't require a hospital visit for the same reasons she dreaded going before.

"Um...I have to...um, well your shirt's a goner anyway so I'm just going to rip it a little more..." she pulled on the material and felt the threads give way as she examined the wound more carefully. She was right; the injury wasn't fatal. It didn't even require stitches, just a little flesh wound amplified with demon gore to worry her unnecessarily at the time. But she knew she should at least clean it up a bit to prevent infection. They'd just have to wait to see how the toxin would run its path.

"Looking good, Ripper." Buffy tore away the remainder of the shirt and looked around for first aid supplies. "Do I have to call you that? You just don't seem like a Ripper."

She saw a small zippered pouch beside the bed and opened it. "Bingo!" There were the leftover supplies he'd used to aid her days before. She pulled out the roll of dressing material and a small bottle of iodine.

"I don't care much for Bingo..." Ripper mumbled slowly, "But you can call me whatever you like if you can make the room stop spinning."

Buffy snickered and joined him on the bed. "I thought you were out?" she poured some iodine on the torn shirt and placed it over the gash. Ripper seethed in pain and Buffy grabbed his hand to offer him some comfort.

"I wish I was, luv." He gritted his teeth as Buffy poured more iodine on the wound.

"Not much stuff here to choose from. This'll have to do for now. I've gotta clean you off a little." She saw a half full bottle of water beside the bed, opened it, and poured it on some of the bandage material. As she tenderly patted it along the edge of the injury, she caressed his tensing hand with her fingers, wishing she could somehow dull the pain. Buffy examined the wound as the blood was slowly wiped away. She found her attentiveness fading as her eyes wandered along Ripper's sweat-glistening torso. He was lean muscled and taunt. Various scars marked his pale skin also decorated with peppered hair that outlining his chest and trailed down his abdomen, ending somewhere below the leather waistband. Buffy's eyes gazed vacantly at his waistband, pondering her odd curiosity to such a mysterious character.

"It's nothing... you needn't worry," he smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. Buffy felt her face flush as she was brought out of her daze and wondered what exactly he was referring to, his injury or the mysteries that lay hidden below the blanket of faded black leather. "I've suffered worse."

Buffy smiled at his reassurance and concentrated on finishing her temp-nursing job. Her attention soon fell on the various marks and scars ornamenting his skin.

"You have quite the game of connect-the-dots here," Buffy glided a finger across a long scar by Ripper's navel. The texture was captivating, like spilled day-old nail polish on a mirror.

"I seem to make enemies quickly," Ripper placed his hand over hers and held it down. The motion caused a chain reaction of tingles and heat to swell up her arm and across her face.

"I'm sorry," she tried to pull her hand away but he gripped it to his skin, not wanting to relinquish the contact.

"Don't be. It just tickles," he released her hand and carefully sat up. He was looking much better and the fever seemed to have leveled off.

"I've never seen so many scars before," Buffy set the blood-soaked rags on the floor and looked around for a clock. She should have checked-in by now. "I don't scar easily."

"I don't either. But it never stops others from trying," he could see she was growing impatient. "You can go. I'm fine."

"You feel better?" Buffy stood up to stretch her legs.

"Thanks to you," he smiled warmly.

After a quick internal struggle between responsibility and gratification, Buffy grabbed her jacket and smiled at her patient.

"I think I should go then," she put on her jacket and pulled out her favorite wooden stake as she meandered towards the door, considering what the penalty would be for not checking in. Wesley would definitely grow suspicious if he wasn't already; so she decided she had to leave. Ripper labored to get to his feet and shuffled across the room to meet her at the door.

****************

The young Watcher walked wearily out of the cemetery, not really motivated to continue his search for Buffy. He'd exhausted most of the locations she frequented except one last hot spot located at the northern edge of town. As he threw his more manageable sized weapons bag over his shoulder, he heard the contents spill out onto the cement of the parking lot. He bent down to collect the variety of tools and spotted a couple standing in an open doorway at the hotel across the street. Though he could only see the back of the woman, he was surprised how much it resembled Buffy. Hair, clothes, stake... wait!

****************

"I think we should rethink our choice for dating activities," Buffy smiled as she nervously twirled the wooden stake in her hand.

"Date? Is that what this is?" Ripper leaned against the doorframe and rested his head against the wood.

"Well, no...how 'bout board meeting?" Buffy smirked and glanced up at Ripper, taking in his gentle smile and mesmerizing green eyes.

"Whatever they are, I wish to continue engaging in them," he shut his eyes and Buffy could see he was worn out.

"You need sleep, I should go."

Ripper slowly opened his eyes and bowed his head, moving his face nearer to Buffy, "If you must." His warm breath tickled along her skin and she felt something stir within her, something she hadn't felt in a long time.

Buffy instinctively leaned forward, wanting to get closer. 'He's so...different,' she thought. 'Maybe I should keep an eye on him until he's feeling better.'

"Your Watcher will expect you to check in. Shouldn't keep him waiting." Though his words seemed to tell her to leave, his tone was sensual and inviting, conveying a yearning for her to stay. And Buffy wanted to stay, her body pleaded for her to take a chance but she had to resist her desire. She had to go to Wes; it was her duty.

She stepped back and bounced the end of the stake against her thigh, "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Buffy."

"Buffy? What happened to Slayer?" she smiled at his familiarity.

"The Slayer shouldn't be here. The Slayer was ordered to stay away from me," he grinned slyly. "So I shall say thank you and goodnight to my lovely friend Buffy."

"Right then. See ya!" she turned and began to prance happily away.

"Count on it!" Ripper whispered and watched her go as the door swung shut.

****************

Wesley watched Buffy walk off into the shadows and sighed disappointedly as his eyes returned to the closing door. He recognized it was Ripper. Buffy was secretly meeting with him in total disregard for his wishes and Council orders and it hurt. He could sense she'd been keeping something from him but hoped it was as simple as a bad grade on a midterm or that she'd broken a battle axe; he'd never thought she was capable of such a risky deception. It had to end. Wesley collected the weapons and tucked them safely away in his car. He took a deep breath and headed toward the hotel room.

****************

The demanding knock on the door took Ripper by surprise. Surely Buffy hadn't returned so soon. He glanced around for anything she might have forgotten and didn't see any misplaced items. Barely able to move his sore muscles, Ripper staggered to the door and gripped the knob.

"Changed your mind..." he opened the door to the unwelcoming sight of a pistol barrel taking aim at his face. As his eyes focused on the young man wielding the firearm, he swallowed hard. "Damn." He let his head duck forward submissively.

"Do be polite and ask me in," Wesley said coldly and stepped forward so the cold steel barrel of the pistol touched Ripper's forehead. Ripper peered up from under his exhausted brow and stepped back, allowing the stranger passage.

"By all means. Would you like tea? I believe that's your poison," Ripper growled disdainfully as he moved back over to the bed and sat down, too tired to care what his uninvited guest planned to do.

Wesley scanned the room as he kicked the door shut. He spotted the blood-soaked rags beside the bed and the noticed the gash on Ripper's bare abdomen. Buffy must have been tending to his injury.

"I know who you are and what you've done. But I'm afraid I don't know what you want with Buffy and that troubles me." Wesley didn't like Ripper's relaxed attitude; he was known to be dangerous. Wesley wasn't sure he could shoot an unarmed man if he had to. But then again, Ripper was never unarmed; he was a sorcerer and a proficient one at that.

"She deserves to know who I am," Ripper said plainly.

"Is that why you're here? To tell her?" Wesley took a cautious step forward.

"No. I'm here to protect her. Same as you," he said as his eyes fell closed under the strain of sleep overcoming him.

"It was you who aided her the other night. Bandaged her wounds." Wesley's tight grip on the pistol's handle lessened as Ripper nodded slightly with a heavy sigh. "The Council has put a price on your head. Ethan Rayne's as well."

"Have at it then... bloody Watcher," Ripper's eyes cracked open and stared irately at Wesley. He couldn't hold out much longer, his body was fading fast; he needed rest.

"I'd rather put my trust in my Slayer. She has superior instincts," Wesley lowered the gun and smiled, "But I will be watching."

"That's what you do best, isn't it?" Ripper mumbled. "Watch Buffy. Watch her risk death every night while you putter around with your books and research, hoping she never realizes what a useless sod you really are."

"Is that why you left? Is that how you see us?" Wesley wasn't shocked by Ripper's opinion; he'd thought the very same things on many occasions. Especially when sending Buffy up against an unusually skilled and deadly foe.

"It's the truth," Ripper cursed under his breath.

"Well, this particularly useless sod has managed to keep his Slayer... Buffy... alive longer than most Slayers in the history of the game." Wesley turned toward the door and began to leave.

"She needs to know who I am!" Ripper unexpectedly stormed toward Wesley and the Watcher swiftly twisted around, cocking the gun and aiming square at the center of Ripper's chest as the older man stopped at the touch of steel against his flesh. He stood defiantly as the gun pressed against his dimpling skin. With a quick glance to the weapon, Ripper peered intensely at Wesley from under heavy brows as a wicked sneer curled his lips, "Do it!" he hissed.

"And just who do you think you are? You want truth? You want to shed some light on the harsh reality of the situation? How's this?" Wesley fished thought his coat pocket with his free hand and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper, throwing it at Ripper's face. The fuming man caught the fluttering sheet and examined it. It was his life's work, the unsavory credentials of a life full of crime and chaos and it was a waste of paper.

"That is who you really are!" Wesley barked. "And I will be damned if I let you tarnish my Slayer with your mistaken claims and counterfeit duty. I'm giving you a choice. Leave now and never come near Buffy again..."

"Or?" Ripper asked through clenched teeth.

"Or so help me, I will have a Council Extraction team take you to some dark lab where they can drain your twisted notion of entitlement from every cell of your being until you couldn't dream of continuing your warped mission to ruin Buffy's already difficult life."

Ripper smirked at the determined young Watcher trying desperately to intimidate him. "You love her," he said gently.

Wesley cocked an eyebrow in astonishment; he'd never thought about it. He did have strong feelings for Buffy, perhaps stronger than a Watcher should. He wanted nothing more than to protect her from the world, from the council, from herself.

"I suppose I do," he answered softly.

"Good," Ripper smiled. "Then we have something in common."

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