I Feel Free (Ethan)

[ethanrayne]

Ethan followed behind Rupert with the same resignation as a man to the gallows. Frankly, he didn't know what to expect when they go to the pub, but he was certain that it was not going to be much like their previous time that they had gone drinking. Ethan was not trying to trick him (though he admitted it was going to be hard to resist some sort of tomfoolery) and Rupert was not going to let himself relax around Rayne for a long time now.

And there it was again. That pang that he felt in his chest for actually making Rupert feel bad! Maybe it was the fact that Ethan knew that he had lost Rupert's trust? Certainly, he had acknowledged that years ago, to the point where Ethan had never really expected any trust from his old friend since Giles had returned to school. It was the name of Ethan's game. He rolled into a town, he took advantage of everyone that was gullible enough to enter in an alliance with him. Cash the check. Move on. What was so horrible about that?

And at this venture, who was he trying to convince?

He let Giles order the drinks, appreciating that he was getting them bourbons, and not something was too bottom shelf. Sure there was bad bourbon, and there was good bourbon, but when ordering it, there was a certain standard that American pubs gave out. Mostly it was because they wanted to line their pockets, and the best way to do that was to bring middle shelf quality for more “sophisticated” drinks. Though, this place was a bit of a dive, so anything was possible...

He waited in silence, feeling a bit like he was back in primary school, and waiting on a bench in the hallway to get a scolding from the faculty. He was making headway with Giles, though, and he really didn't want to risk messing it up. After all, Ethan was certain that this was all just part of another Rayne-styled debacle that he had planned, just another trick up his sleeve, another trap to be sprung. He just hadn't thought of it yet, of course.

Of course.

The drinks came, and Ethan certainly wasn't going to turn down the double. He listened to everything that Giles had to say, and could not help but let the smile spread over his face. Just because he was repentant didn't mean that he couldn't be snarky. "I will say it again, old mate, the fact that you called my religion 'so called' just shows your level of intolerance. Chaos isn't bad! It isn't good, either, mind you. It's just... chaos.” He said the last word with a deep level of reverence of someone who was honestly a true believer. "And everybody needs it." At the risk of sounding preachy to a man who may not want to listen to him. If Giles wanted to know he would ask, but Ethan wouldn't hold in breath. Rupert never really tried to understand. It was one of the reasons why Ethan acted out.

"Medication? Discussion?" He brushed the concepts off. "The traditional concepts of all that I got enough of in group therapy. Talking about our feelings, talking about our pasts, talking about our weaknesses, and inadequacies, and rubbish." He took a sip from one of the drinks, enjoying it for a moment. It was the first spot of alcohol he had gotten into him since he had been inside. Living like a priest, he had been. "And if I wanted to be skunked all day, I would turn to the bottle as a remedy. But I don't, so I won't."

A happy memory drifted through Ethan's head, a memory of just why it was a bad idea to get Ethan too drunk... “I mean, do you remember the time we were completely pissed, and we thought that it was a brilliant idea to break into Hackney Empire at two in the morning?”

Word Count: 686 Tag: Giles Notes: Verbose is never an issue. As a result, that lil' memory is just something I am improvising with. Go with it!
Credit: Jax

[rupertgiles]

The silence that loomed over the table before the bourbons arrived was a nice respite for Giles. It was surprising to the watcher that the man that he was about to lecture was not sending any verbal jabs or smarmy smirks his way. It was a good change of pace, one that made Giles wonder how much this behavioral modification went. Sometimes Ethan did play waiting games, but it just felt like the warlock had nothing planned. If he did, surely the man would be full of sharp words and grins. Well, once he had a glass of bourbon in his fingers, Ethan did give one of his classic mischievous looks which only made Giles softly sigh like a disappointed parent. And after his adulation of Chaos, Giles had to restrain himself from crushing Ethan’s foot under the table.

”Nonsense,” Was all that Giles had to say to that, only a twitch of his upper lip betraying any ire he felt. He didn’t know why it vexed him so; perhaps it was Ethan acting as if he was some kind of divine messenger.


”However, I think you’ve brought up a good point,” Giles set his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together as he leaned just a touch forward, ”You say that Chaos is neither good nor evil, but from my experience, you’ve always allowed it to harm innocent people. You have never directly had a hand in killing anyone, but you knew that casualties would occur. Including me, on more than one occasion,” He didn’t really mean to bring that up for any kind of knife-twisting guilt trip, simply to state facts they both already knew to come to the new conclusion that Giles had found.

This was taking an unexpected turn, feeling more and more like when the ex-librarian had reached out to Spike to encourage him to fight demons on their side. That actually hadn’t worked so well, but perhaps Ethan would listen to reason a bit more. He seemed desperate enough to, ”If you’re completely sure that serving Chaos is neutral, couldn’t you counteract the damage it does with… with something more constructive?” Giles had no idea what Ethan would say to the concept that he could play a saint every so often, but he suspected the idea would be shot down just as the other had been.

”Then don’t be traditional. We never have been,” Giles said simply enough. Admittedly, Giles was more traditional than Ethan by a long shot, but the life Giles had lived was certainly not the one his father had laid out for him, particularly not the time when he and Ethan had been good friends. He continued after a pause for thought, ”You’ll simply have find something to placate yourself. Otherwise you’ll, what, go mad, I suppose?”

Giles gave something of a dry chuckle, though it could have been confused for a gentle cough. Talking about the past was a risky proposition, which could possibly get them too far off subject, or it could be a way to crack Ethan’s psyche open. The watcher decided to take the risk and thought back to that night, ”I remember lying on the bingo tables, looking for ghosts in the rafters. We must have made it in, somehow. I have no idea why we wanted to get in there so badly.”

+++
TAGS: Ethan
WORD COUNT::560
NOTES: XD I like making up memories.

[ethanrayne]

Ethan scoffed down at the bourbon, not as an insult to the alcohol itself, but because he had to scoff at something, and right now he didn't want to direct it at Rupert. The scoff acted as a decompression of breath that had been building in his chest when Rupert spoke. It felt like a lecture. It felt like a schooling that he was giving to one of his little students. Time in an American high school did not do that impulse of his any good.

But mostly, he scoffed because he knew, somehow, Rupert was right. And Ethan was wallowing. And it was pathetic. And what is wrong with that? I'm allowed to wallow occasionally. When was the last time I truly got a good wallow in? It's be at least three years, if not more.

“We claimed that it was because we wanted to get a good look about and see if there was anything left over from the old Take Your Pick set, and there was nothing better to do at the time.” That was the time before the Sleepwalker. Ah, Eghyon. That had been the beginning of the end. Everyone blamed everyone else for who had the idea to use the Sleepwalker, and they all just fell apart. All the more reason to remind Rupert about the times before... him. “Mostly we were looking to get some time alone.”

He let the moment linger. There were questions lingering in Ethan's eyes. Questions that he did not want to know the answer to. Was this something that the Initiative did to him? Or is this something that therapy did? Was Ethan genuinely looking for a change for the better? What was the real reason why he had sought Giles out? Just how much of a hypocrite was he if he engaged in only the destructive side of chaos? Was he a shell of the man he once was now? Why did he care so much?

Again, though, these were things that Ethan was just too scared to utter into the air, because he didn't want to know the answers. You can't handle the truth! Instead, he allowed two completely inane questions that he only wanted to know the answer to a little escape out of his mouth, forcing the air to fill with some sort of noise to distract from the questions he left unanswered. “Why aren't your drinking anything stronger than water? Does being a Watcher mean you now need to take vows of sobriety?”

Word Count: 419 Tag: Rupert ol' mate. Notes: I hate house fires... it is why this post is so late...
Credit: Jax

[rupertgiles]

Giles nodded as the memory became clearer the more the pair spoke of it, ”Oh, the yes and no game. Didn’t we play a round? We kept getting into laughing fits. Ah… the prize was… was…” His voice cut out for a moment as he remembered what the prize was. He certainly wasn’t going to say that out loud. Not here. But Ethan was right. They had been looking for time alone. To get into trouble. To do whatever pleased them. Giles bowed his head once more, avoiding the warlock’s gaze. He gave a sigh and gently murmured, “Oh, we were stupid boys.”

”We had a few good times together,” The watcher finally confessed, his voice still soft but had more hesitation in it. He left it half-vague, just as Ethan had done; probably even more vague than Ethan. His gaze flicked up to look at his old mate and he was a little shocked to find the man not being arrogant, nor appalled by their past behavior, but inquisitive. He wasn’t saying a thing. Dear lord, this was as awkward when Giles had mistaken Ethan complimenting the waitress in Sunnydale as a compliment for himself. Only perhaps more so, because instead of Giles being left with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment, he was left with strange little shivers coursing through his body. No, certainly Ethan couldn’t be referencing that. Not now. There was no reason, was there? Well, save to get him off his guard.

But, again, it just didn’t seem like Ethan had a plan, and without a scheme, Ethan wouldn’t do this to him, would he? In fact, the exact opposite appeared to be true. Ethan was unsure, somehow, frightened and viciously lashing out every so often, like a wild animal in a trap. But he wasn’t rejecting Giles being here, although it could have been just because of the liquor the watcher was supplying. In any case, Giles let another long pause go by, only slightly shifting in his seat from time to time to take a sip of water. Talking about the past had somewhat backfired. What had it gotten him? Ethan Rayne, looking at him like a lost little child. He asked inane questions like one as well.

Giles gave a soft little cluck of his tongue to Ethan’s questions of his choice of beverage, ”Hardly. You know why. Although, you certainly have driven me to drink before,” As Giles recalled, the first time he had really hit the bottle in America was when Ethan had brought Eyghon. The difference between them was that while Ethan attempted to run for his life, flinging every obstacle in the demon’s path, Giles had done everything he could to try to stop the Sleepwalker, despite using brandy as a crutch. Of course, things ended somewhat bitter-sweetly, with him losing Jenny’s trust when the demon possessed her. Well, to be fair, perhaps things weren’t completely Ethan’s fault. They were the only survivors and probably neither of them could say what happened, back when they were university boys. God, that seemed so long ago. The watcher refocused on the matter at hand.

”Ethan, do you have… Could it be…” His voice trailed off again. No, he was switching subjects. That was much too dangerous to talk about. Giles cleared his throat and began again, ”Could it be that you might actually want to repent for your crimes? And not because of anything prison did to you? You might have reflected a-and possibly want to be redeemed for the damage you have caused.”

+++

TAGS: Ethan
WORD COUNT: 595
NOTES: Can't think of too many people who like house fires, mate. Good to know you're doing okay.

[ethanrayne]

Ah, yes, the long lingering silence of things better left unsaid. It was the tell tale sign of their history, a past that was never really truly resolved. When the Sleepwalker rose and murdered their mate, it had shaken Giles to the point of cutting Ethan off from his life, and going back to his studies as a Watcher. In fact, Rupert refused to speak to him, a reminder of something horrible. He was certain that on some soul-deep level Rupert felt guilt for all the terrible acts that he was responsible for. Remorse. Is that what kept him away from Ethan?

At least the silence, and the “stupid boys” comment meant that it had meant something. And something was better than nothing. He wanted to ask him if it was something that Ethan did directly that shoved the thorn between them or if it was just because he was running from his past.

“'Repent.' 'Redeem.' You're saying it as if those aren't just words that guilt consciences latch onto. There is not such thing as redemption. You know as well as I that once the deed is done, it is done. How do you make up for killing someone, or at the very least ruining their lives. Not that I care... but you seem to be doing well at forgetting the things you are responsible for. You seemed to have done well for yourself.”

Picking up and finishing the first bourbon, Ethan revealed in the lack of burn. Finally, he had gotten to the point of drinking where he was not going to be feeling much of a burn anymore. If he really wanted, getting drunk was going to be a down hill struggle from here on out, but it wasn't going to do anything for him. Ethan always had the remarkable ability to hold his liquor, which was bad when all you wanted to do was drink yourself into unconsciousness. “Just so you know, I just decided that I will not be drinking this problem away. It is an expensive habit that I will never be able to support. But, I will take the free drinks.” The next bourbon, though, he would defiantly be nursing rather than guzzling down.

Rolling the glass, letting the ice dance around the edge of the glass, he took a moment to gather himself. There was more to be afraid at than just what would happen in regards to the people he hurt. “Besides, I will never be free of all this.” The direct indication was vague, but purposefully. “I owe too many favors to too many... people. There is nothing altruistic about Chaos, and I may be going back on a few deals if I never do anything naughty ever again.” And that was true enough. He had more than a few demons, and one or two gods, who would not like it if Ethan signed off from his risque ways.

And they were the kind of deals that involved Ethan's internal organs or immortal soul. Not the kind of thing that one might be willing to part with.

Word Count: 524 Tag: Giles Notes: ~
Credit: Jax

[rupertgiles]

How had this happened? The silence that Giles had thought of as a peaceful respite was now just incredibly uncomfortable. And it seemed to stretch on for quite some time, as if either man was simply waiting for another comment on their past. But Giles took the initiative and asked his question, and in return, he received another ambiguous moral confrontation from a man who seemed to want no morals. The watcher had to credit Ethan—there was a certain amount of logic in what he said, but mostly what the warlock said angered and affronted him.

It wasn’t really from the standpoint that Ethan had made a crack at Giles’ attempt to introduce the concept of redemption. The watcher was surprised that Ethan was entertaining any kind of conversation containing those concepts at all, considering all that Giles had done was assault him and then lecture him. Giles certainly would have not stood for such a thing happening to him. But at the core of the insult to Giles was that Ethan claimed the watcher had forgotten. He wasn’t sure if this was merely Ethan baiting him or if it was Ethan’s true thoughts on the matter, but either way, Giles’ cold expression had returned in full force. He had actually just spoken to Buffy about this—being responsible when you take a life. His first night in Richmond, he had counseled her on this, since she had just defeated and killed a rogue slayer. And of course, it had brought up the ethics of what he had done in the past, at least in his mind. Their trust had gone through enough rough patches. Ironically, the Slayer and her watcher were possibly headed towards another, since Giles had a strong feeling that Buffy was distancing herself from him.

Giles noted that Ethan was still speaking, something about not using the drink as his solution. That was fine, and probably easier on his liver. Giles said nothing in return. The watcher kept listening as Ethan explained further, and though it was whitewashed for the ears of those ignorant of the occult, Giles understood what he meant. After another moment of pause, Giles simply bowed his head for a moment, and then reached for his wallet. He laid forty dollars on the table, which would probably much more than the two bourbons cost. He rose from the table and stared down at Ethan. If they didn’t have such an immediate audience, Ethan would have likely found himself being used as a punching bag right about now. But Giles restrained himself, and rather, decided that there was no more for him to do here.

”In a certain way, you’re correct. There is no true way to repent for taking a life.” Though still remaining hushed, the frigid ire in Giles’ voice was clear as he continued, ”However, I can assure you that I have forgotten nothing. Those who have died at my hands and those whom I’ve failed to protect. I bear those failures and I bear the costs of them as well. And I continue in my work so that others do not have to feel as I do.”

”I’ve told you what I can. I believe you’ll simply have to accept the consequences of your choices like the rest of us. It is up to you how to manage them.” And with that the watcher turned his back on Ethan again, this time offering no invitation. Ethan had wasted enough of Giles’ time and money, and he would not tolerate the man taking his charity and then slighting his character.

+++

TAGS: Ethan
WORD COUNT: 601
NOTES: Hmm, not sure if to close it out there or not... I'll leave it to you?

[ethanrayne]

The way he saw it, Ethan had a few options on his hands.

First, he could march his English rear right back to the Initiative and demand answers from them. This would probably earn him a repeat on his incarceration, with no repeat on his release. He did not feel like spending the rest of his natural (or unnatural) years festering in a cell, smiling at his fellow loonies, and gushing over just how good the Jell-o was in the mess hall was today.

Second, he could fight against this new found inner spirit. He could resist to high holy Hell, is what he could do. After all, he had to do it once before. He was born human, and at some point had to shut off that nagging voice in the back of his head that told him playing with matches was bad, and playing with human skin was worse. After a few slightly naughty deeds, he would be back on track. Already, though he could feel the swell of his conscience rebelling against the thought. The naughty seemed to be just fine, it was the loss of human life that he was having trouble with.

Third, he could surrender to this new life before him. Think of the adventure it would offer him. And Rupert did make some very good points, damn him to the pit. Maybe the reason he felt shaken to his very core was because of the religious doctrine that he professed about so readily. Maybe he had spent too much time being too destructive, and it was time for a change. That was what Chaos was about. That is what made it so necessary. Order guided the world. Chaos shaped it. Creative energy might be just the thing to help him out of this rut.

He slapped a hand down on the table, changing gears in his mood once more at the drop of a hat. He had a smile on his face as he did so, though he rattled just about every piece of flotsam and jetsam that made its home on the tabletop. There was something to what Giles had just said, something that spun the hamster wheel as if the little rodent had been force-fed a can of Red Bull.

"That's the thing, isn't it, Rip? A purpose. You found yourself a cause in life, and you went with it. Now I know you might seem resistant, but, please, I hope you consider." Ethan flashed him the most innocent smile that he could manage, and it came out about 90% genuine. The other 10% was born of uncertainty, both in himself, and what Giles would give him as a response. For the most part, though, Ethan was all puppy eyes, and expectant brow.

"You work for Good Guys Incorporated. Hell, you even run a part of it. You could give me a job!"

Word Count: 510 Tag: Rupert Notes: Sorry, this muse up and died for a little while there. But I am back!
Credit: Jax

[rupertgiles]

He shouldn’t have stopped. The watcher should have continued straight through the door, ignoring whatever Ethan said and forgotten about this whole exchange. But he did stop. In fact, Giles had only made it halfway to the door when Ethan started speaking again, and some inexplicable instinct in him made Giles listen. It seemed that something he said had gotten through to the warlock’s craven little brain and he was trying to bargain with the other man. And then he asked for a job. A job? Really? It was true that Giles was currently finding himself swamped with work, considering that the new Watcher’s Council was having difficulties finding and training new Watchers. More often than not, being a Watcher was something that was kept in the family, and now that Giles was attempting to find replacements, he had mostly been sorely disappointed. That being said, he certainly could not employ Ethan in such a position—the man didn’t have the skills, the aptitude or the temperament that it required, nor was Giles about to let someone with Ethan’s history anywhere near his Slayers. Giles was having enough trouble with Spike frequenting and Angel living at the Boarding House.

But perhaps there was something else. If Ethan was willing to offer his services, it would be possible for Giles to use the warlock’s talents and connections to his advantage. And with the Scoobies seemingly separating themselves from him, Giles was apt to use any tool he could to bring stability back into his patchwork family. And of course, there was the old adage about keeping your enemies closer. The watcher turned and gave the man a blank stare for a moment, simply reading Ethan’s face, all full of a type of hope that Giles had rarely seen so sincerely in Ethan. Slowly, as thoughts formed and set in the man’s mind, Giles returned to the table, though he did not bother to sit. Giles had problems and a possible solution was sitting right in front of him sipping bourbon.

”Hmm.” Giles finally uttered something, a non-committal grunt as if Ethan had just made an interesting chess move, ”I think we can come to an arrangement. If you want a purpose, you can procure a few items for me. I need Luminol, wooden bullets, motherwort and a seer’s eye amulet. That shouldn’t be extremely difficult for a man with your experience.” Not all of the things on that list were black market goods, but using Ethan to gather them would attract less suspicion than if Giles was suddenly seen around shops where he didn’t want to explain his presence. He had been pushed away from his Slayer and her friends before, but this time, it had a dark undertone that the watcher could not ignore. Potentials that had suddenly been dropped from the roster. A sudden urge to repaint the house. There was a tension among all the key players and yet a severe silence had dropped over the Slayer Organization.

Pulling out his billfold again, Giles added another two hundred dollars to the money on the table,”If you succeed, I will pay you fifteen hundred more and we can discuss more permanent employment. However, there are a few conditions. If I find you have attempted contact with anyone within the Slayer Organization, harmed any innocent bystander or are simply trying to infiltrate my council for any unsavory reason, I will find you and kill you with my bare hands. So, what say you?”

+++

TAGS: Ethan
WORD COUNT: 583
NOTES: Ah, underhanded dealings...

[ethanrayne]

Ethan could not help but wonder what it was that Rupert would need all of these goods for, but he was not going to split hairs. Still, he couldn't help himself, he just couldn't help himself. He had to quip. At least no one had taken that away from him. "CSI: Watcher's Council, is it then? Well, I won't ask questions, but I had better get a clue as to what this is about once I am done playing errand boy."

Ethan didn't want to admit how relieved he was that Rupert was putting even this limited amount of trust in him.

The funny thing about all of this, was that Ethan was actually getting excited. He was not waffling in the wind the way he thought he would be. He didn't want to admit it, but since he started coming to America, Ethan had been alone. He never cared about that until he went into the institution. While some of those blokes in there were certainly not the best of company, he always at least as someone to talk to, company, camaraderie. He never thought that he cared about it but... Ethan didn't have any friends anymore.

Why did he care? He was still convinced that the Initiative had done something to his brain, but there was little that he could do about it now. Why not just roll with the punches and see where this took him. It was always what he was good at anyway. If he started to over think it, it was only going to make it worse.

When Ethan spoke next, he did so with a complete business personality. Once money was involved, once a deal was struck, all hypothetical conversations were out the window. "Well, if we are keeping this incognito, then I will need you to give me a list of the places that you normally purchase your occult goods at so I know where not to go. I have a few friends that can help me with this, so this shouldn't take too long. Let me know how to get in contact with you." He smiled, dropping the business persona, and going back to “good ol' Ethan.” "Unless you just want to drop by my place and talk more... Come to think of it.. I don't have a place. I'll need to remedy that."

He got up from his place at the table, waving his hand over the money there. It was not magic that made it disappear, but a slight of hand that came with the experience as a criminal. It was meant to be discreet, and anyone who did not know what to look for wouldn't have even seen it happen. "I would call this an accord."

Word Count: 502 Tag: Rupert Notes: What do you think? A pair of wrap up posts?
Credit: Jax

[rupertgiles]

The watcher’s gaze flicked back down to Ethan in another cool stare as the warlock made the jab that Giles knew he would, ”Something like that.” Although, it was intriguing that Ethan was curious as to the purpose of Giles’ request. Perhaps it was just a survival instinct, a remnant from his less tasteful dealings to make sure that he didn’t lose more than he gained. The truth, if Giles eventually chose to divulge it, would be something that would probably mildly amuse Ethan, since there was a certain delicious irony in using a man who worshiped chaos to try to bring order to Giles’ life. But he accepted the job readily enough and that was all that mattered.

”Avoid the local Wiccan store, Pathways,” Giles cautioned. That was the store that he had typically frequented, considering he knew the owner, Julie. It was probably also the one that Willow bought her mystic items at the most, and Giles had enough trouble without anyone but him knowing that Ethan was here. ”There’s another shop in Mystic Falls, but if you want to be completely discreet, I would try for the one in Mid Rivers. That’s approximately half an hour away by car.” The watcher wasn’t sure if Ethan had somehow gotten a car, or how he exactly had ended up in Richmond to begin with, but Giles wasn’t that interested in the particulars now. Perhaps that would be a question for later. He could see a back and forth happening when the warlock came into contact with him again, if Ethan was truly that curious as to why Giles wanted the items he had requested. Now that they seemed to be on business terms, Ethan could be open to a trade of information, rather than his usual infuriating game playing.

There was a brief pause as Giles considered the best way for Ethan to contact him. The watcher still stubbornly refused to carry a cell phone and the Boarding House landline would be too risky. After his short deliberation, the solution came easily enough. A business card was pulled from his wallet, and Giles put it next to the money, ”This is the number for my London office. Leave a message on the voicemail and I’ll get it here. We’ll meet three days from when you call, at the Mid Rivers bar and grill, at six o’clock.”

Giles watched as the money vanished, neatly tucked away somewhere on Ethan’s person as the warlock stood. He wasn’t sure if his old mate was waiting for a handshake or some such when he confirmed their deal to be good, but Giles stood firm and stoic. He gave one last glance to Ethan, managing to look the man in the eye, ”I appreciate this. Don’t make me regret that.” And that was all Giles had to say. He turned and hastily exited the pub, already turning over what his next step was. And he knew he wasn’t going to be stopped by anything.

+++

TAGS: Ethan
WORD COUNT: 500
NOTES: Agreed. We'll see when we pick up with these boys a bit in the future?

[ethanrayne]

Ethan listened to the instructions with the conservation of a man committing something to memory. He wasn't going to write something like this down! The less of a paper trail, the better this was going to be. As it was, he was going to have to adjust how he normally did things. While Rupert would, no doubt, remain the firm Luddite that he was, Ethan was going to have to play this the new way. Disposable cell phones, and always being aware of CCTV cameras were the way of this world. At least something things hadn't changed. He doubts that criminals no longer spoke the language of “cash only” and “I owe you a favor.”

He could not keep the twinge of amusement off of his face even if he tried. The instructions that were given were complicated, as far as a phone calls went. “How very MI5 of us.” He winked at Rupert, the last bit of performance charm beaming out with it. With a certain swagger in his motions, he clapped the now empty glass that once held his alcohol, upside down, on the table, an almost universal signal of “I am finished. Take me home!”

He did a once over of the bar, taking a mental note of anyone who might be in there. This time of day, there were very few people haunting a dive like this, so it would be easy to pick out who was watching them, and who might pop up later. No one, it seemed. As always, Giles' instincts were right, and he had found the perfect place for a quiet conversation. These were plays on his thoughts that Ethan knew he had to keep to himself. He could only push that button so many times with Rupert before things got carried away, and not in the way that Ethan might want them to.

To push that button again would be to wedge something hard between them, and Ethan was already worried about the tentative trust that was dancing between them now. With words like “don't make me regret it,” it was very clear that while they were currently working together, that could change in an instant. With a gesture from his hand, Ethan gave a sign for “you can trust in me, old friend, old mate, old buddy, old pal.” “I will be in touch.”

He let Rupert exit the pub first, taking the time to use the loo, with plans to head out the back door. They were seen walking in here together. If any one of his friends saw him leave with Ethan, chances are any lie that could be perpetrated would be blown out of the water.

Despite his new found, infectious conscience that seemed to be growing in him, Ethan was actually quite excited about doing the dirty deeds for the leader of the Council. There had to be some sort of scandal attached to all of this, and Ethan was just tickled pink to be a part of it. Conscience or no, Ethan loved himself a good outrage. And if it meant that he got to be in Giles' pocket just a little more, all the better.

Looking at himself in the washroom mirror as he was washing his hands (good hygiene and all that) he found that his spirits were actually quite high. He found his reflection smiling back at him, and knew that his own features matched it. “Oh, what the hell!” he spoke to it, an exclamation of throwing caution to the wind. While he did not have all of the components needed, the mirror would act as a better vessel than magical herbs would any day. That was the trick about magical theory. Just because the book called for it does not mean that it cannot be tweaked.

“Discede.” he said with certainty, and in a woosh of air, Ethan was gone, teleported through the mirror, his reflection the last thing to fade into obscurity. This was going to be fun...

. the banter |:. Last post of the thread, first time using this wonderful template!
. the pledge |:. ~~~
. the turn |:. Silence
. the prestige |:. NO ONE!
. the benefactor |:. Jess <3

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[ADMIN ASHLEY]