tarnished -- part two -- trekker |
Chapter One | |
Conversations With... |
The girl was gone. Ethan had seen her leave in a cab earlier in the day, and now, as he'd suspected, Giles was pulling up to his building in Bath for what was nearly the first time all summer. He waited for a few more minutes, watching as Giles' light went on, then finally walked into the building and up the stairs and tapped on Giles' door.
Giles answered it after a moment, and didn't seem surprised to see him.
"Ethan," he said, tiredly, then stepped back to let him in.
Ethan had suspected he would at least put up a bit more of a fight than this, but he shrugged off the odd behavior and simply walked in without a comment. Giles shut the door and headed for the kitchen.
"Tea?"
Ah, Ripper. Always unpredictable at the most unexpected moments.
Ethan decided to play along and see where this show of civility might lead. He hung up his coat and accepted the offer of tea and went to sit in the living room at Giles' invitation.
Though, granted, this was all raising his internal alarms. Which was mostly all right, given that he spent most of his life intentionally getting himself into situations which provoked that reaction, and actually rather enjoyed it.
Giles stayed in the kitchen until the tea was actually finished, leaving Ethan to fester in his mild nerves, and finally emerged with two mugs and set one of them before Ethan on the coffee table before taking a seat on the other couch and saying, "What do you know?"
And then it all made sense. This was Giles in information-gathering mode, not wanting to potentially damage a source of exciting news of the bad side of the world. Unfortunately, Ethan hadn't a clue what, in particular, Giles might be referring to.
"Well," he said, "I know a great deal of things. But I somehow doubt you currently have a pressing interest in any of them."
"Ah," Giles said, and sipped his tea.
Any kind of exciting adrenal rush that may have been building fizzled out, and suddenly they were quite disconcertingly merely two middle-aged men drinking tea.
"What exactly are you looking to find out?" Ethan asked, in a rather desperate bid to drag them back to something at least resembling, well... anything but that last thing.
"Willow had to return to Sunnydale. She sensed something rising. Something powerful and evil."
"Ah," Ethan said, "Well, contrary to whatever you may believe, I am not actually the first person in Evil's little black book, so apparently I haven't yet got the memo."
Giles gave him one of those dour looks that made him look exactly like, well, an aging librarian, and Ethan merely smiled in response, while attempting to tell himself that he most certainly did not find this milder side of his sometime lover at all enticing. He was in it for the occasional flashes of his interesting side.
Then they were both quiet for a bit, and Ethan found himself wishing for something more exciting than tea, and pondering the continuing strangeness of this peaceable, apparently sparks-free encounter. It just wasn't *right*.
So, he said, "So, I see your plan to off yourself heroically failed. Sorry about that."
"I'm sorry?" Giles said, in his would-you-like-to-please-revise-what-you-just-said? voice.
"Oh, come on, Rupert. I saw that look in your eye before you teleported to Sunnydale. You wanted to die. You wanted to go out in a blaze of glorious martyrdom."
"I did what was necessary," Giles lied, evenly.
"There were other options."
"No, there weren't. Nothing acceptable."
"Fine. Delude yourself if you like."
"Why are you here?" he asked, then, glaring at me.
"You invited me in," Ethan pointed out.
"Damn it," he said.
That man certainly knew how to make someone feel welcome.
"I was merely coming by to welcome you back to Bath," Ethan said, simply to be obnoxious.
"Then go away," Giles muttered, without even a hint of tact.
"Really, Rupert, you're usually much more civil--"
"Get the hell out of my flat." His intonation remained monotone, he didn't look up from his tea, but the threat in that simple sentence weighed more than any balled fist or glare.
Ethan abandoned his tea and left.
Apparently, that last spell had pissed Giles off more than he'd anticipated. Most likely because what Giles failed to realized was that all he'd done was mess with his hormones enough to make him feel so good he would have cheerfully confessed his love to a turnip. Still, his sensitivity on the issue was intriguing, and possibly promising, if Ethan actually cared whether or not old Ripper still had "feelings" for him...
And good lord, he was turning into a teenaged girl even as he had that thought...
But then a voice brought him up short.
"Of course you care."
He turned and found himself confronted with a very odd thing. Himself.
"This is not normal," he said, to the apparition. It smiled and sauntered a few steps closer.
"Of course you care how he feels."
"Oh, please," Ethan said to it, and turned to continue walking. Whatever illusion it was wasn't very convincing nor interesting.
"You shouldn't, of course," it added, falling into step behind him.
"Well, that's lovely, seeing as I don't," Ethan snapped. "Go away."
"There's so much more in the world, after all. Other men. Women. And power. Endless amounts of power."
"I have power. And all those other things for that matter. And I'm not really interested in your paranormal telemarketer spiel, thank you."
"I'm not selling anything. Merely... talking."
"Rupert's right. I am obnoxious."
Ethan kept walking, trying to figure out which of his enemies he'd particularly annoyed lately, Rupert not included, since this was far too creative for him.
"I think you're forgetting who you are," it said. "What you're capable of. What you're meant for."
"Oh, and what's that?"
"Great things, Ethan Rayne. Great, and terrible, and powerful."
Ethan had to stop then, not because he was intrigued, but because he just couldn't properly argue while walking.
"So very specific," he said, drolly.
His doppleganger smirked.
"You're meant for much more than moping around after some lifeless Watcher for the rest of your life."
"I do not *mope around.*"
The other him merely arched his brow.
"And yet, you always seem to end up where he is." It paused, then added, "And don't try to say it's him ending up where you are, we both know that's completely untrue."
Ethan scowled, and said, "Given how often I seem to be able to end up fucking him, I wouldn't call me all that pathetic."
"You wanted more from your life, once," it continued, blithely. "What would you have thought of yourself? Selling your magic and serving idiotic demons? You are better than that."
"Where, exactly, are you going with this?"
"Nowhere, it seems," it said, and then, most annoying of all, chose that moment to simply vanish entirely.
tarnished -- part two -- trekker |