Pairing: Buffy/ Ethan Rayne.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Author's Note: Yes, I know most people will just say, "Oh God!" and move on. And I know this is unusual. And I know that this seems very abrupt and out of character just now. But bear with me. I'll address all of it in the following chapters.
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The night was hot, the bar was full and the beer was warm- apart from that, Buffy didn't let herself think too much about anything. She took another gulp of the bitter-tasting stuff that the bartender had drawn for her and stared morosely at the scratched wooden surface beneath her hands.
"Well, well, well," a voice spoke up behind her, "And what have we here?"
She knew who it was even before she turned and she was tempted to throw a straight right cross to the guy's face except that it required energy she didn't have at the moment. So she simply spun on her seat and glared at Ethan Rayne distastefully. "What do you want?" she sneered, "I thought you usually want to see Giles."
He slid into the seat next to hers. "You know," he murmured conspirationally, "I never really expected to see anyone at all here. I certainly didn't know you liked these dear old-fashioned pubs."
She stared the insect over and decided it was far too hot to argue. "I don't really care about it," she replied simply, "Giles mentioned the place once."
Ethan stilled and she felt the tension as he echoed her words, "Mentioned? You used the past tense, my dear."
Buffy knew what he was asking, but she didn't want to twist the knife in the wound. Maybe back in Sunnydale she would have enjoyed that but no more, and especially not in such heat. "He's still alive, Ethan. In fact, he's more alive than I've ever seen him."
Something about the say she said it made Ethan look at her shrewdly. "The masks are coming off, I presume?" Buffy nodded wordlessly and Ethan made a soundless toast to his old comrade for finally getting up the courage to do it. "I take it you don't approve?"
Gray eyes looked up at him and for once they weren't filled with animosity. Then Buffy looked away and shrugged, answering his question with a half- smile. "It's none of my business and he's already told me that. I just wanted to know that he was okay, right? But no-oo! He got all Ripper and blew me out."
Ethan laughed. He knew all about that particular little Mr. Jeckyl and Hyde personality. "My dear Slayer, you of all people must know that Ripper is really who the man is! And let me add that Ripper is not that bad once you're used to him."
"I guess!" But Buffy wasn't all that convinced. She wanted her Watcher back and never mind that she sounded about five years old when she said that, she just really needed Giles to sit down and talk to her like he used to. "He's just changed so much. Well, actually, he's just really different to how I knew him."
"Masks," Ethan commented serenely, tossing down a whiskey chaser, "Everyone uses them. Ripper is perhaps more complex than most people, but no one can be exactly how you see them. Take your little friend, for example- Willow, if I remember right- the sort you'd never believe would hurt a fly. But give her power and she's a merciless Goddess, passing judgments that are really not hers to make."
"That was different," Buffy muttered, going red and waving his words away with her left hand.
Surprisingly, Ethan caught that little hand in his slim fingers and pressed sympathetically. "Slayer, no one ever shows anyone their true face. Ripper has never trusted *himself* enough to be truthful. And his ideals remain, no matter what he acts like; rather tragic actually, all things considered. He was a barrel of laughs back in the old days."
"Why do you care so much?" Buffy snapped, pulling her hand away and wiping it on her jeans in disgust. Ethan only chuckled at her actions and tweaked a dyed blonde curl. Buffy swung in anger at him but he caught her wrist in his fingers. Whether he was unexpectedly strong or Buffy was less than half- hearted, he clamped her hand firmly to the countertop and wagged a finger in her face. "Temper, temper," he deplored teasingly, letting go.
They sat in silence for a while as Ethan ordered another drink. It was only when Buffy was contemplating leaving that he answered her still-hanging question- "He was my friend once. We may have moved on but I would not like to see him hurt."
Buffy looked up laconically and smiled knowingly. "So it's not something more?"
Ethan shook his head and gurgled in amusement. "If you are implying what I think you are, then no; not for either of us. As for anyone else since I've known him, I can't really tell you. But not me and none that I know of. Travers may have persuaded him otherwise, you never know; and I always did find his pressure on dear Ripper a little too intense."
Buffy shuddered and gave him a mock glare. "If you must torture me with images I *really* don't want, why that one?" she grumbled, paying her shot and smiling nicely at the cute guy who took her money.
Dark eyes darkened even more with a mischievous glimmer even while the mystic looked innocently at her. "Would you have preferred me to bring up the time he almost broke a man's back in that very corner there?"
Buffy looked at him with a thoughtful expression and he noticed with fascination that a little drop of sweat was trickling down her neck. He suddenly wondered whether she was remembering what and who he was and whether or not she had scrounged up the energy to kick him senseless; except she smiled and shook her head at him. "Actually, that's one I can believe."
She got up and began to walk out. Ethan looked at her slight figure winding it's way between the other customers and he made his usual split second decision, "Here!" he snapped hurriedly, slamming a couple of twenties on the table, "Keep the change, mate."
"Ta," the guy grunted, "Have a nice night."
"Hope so, love," Ethan commented, "I bloody well hope so!" He raised his voice as he caught up to her outside, "Well, since it's such a lovely night, why don't I drive you home?"
She stared at him in disbelief and asked, "A 'lovely night'? Are you insane or do you have heatstroke? It's too damned hot to think!"
"Well, then, let me drive you to a place where you can cool down," Ethan amended promptly. Buffy looked torn at the thought of coolness and at distrust for this man who had only ever caused trouble.
"No," she said finally, "And don't follow me, you creep! And don't even think of causing trouble 'cause I swear I'll break your neck if you do!" She was annoyed to find his eyes looking delighted, warming to her in ways she didn't want to think about considering they had flicked below her neckline for a second.
"How utterly charming," Ethan smirked, "but just think of what Ripper would do to me if I didn't protect you with my life."
"Kill you, probably," Buffy said bracingly, "And good riddance!"
"To bad rubbish? Yes, isn't it?" Ethan agreed, "But then I knew that before."
Buffy was walking away but paused enough to toss one last statement over her shoulder. "Yeah! You don't really go in for the masks, do you?"
"I have more masks than you'll ever find out, Buffy," Ethan said quietly.
The Slayer stopped dead in her tracks and stared doubtfully at him with a frown in her gray eyes. Not only did the man sound honest, he sounded far too certain of himself. She felt the pull of the challenge in his eyes. "I don't *want* to find out, Rayne."
Ethan shrugged and got into his sporty little car. He leaned across and pushed open the front passenger door. "Get in, you silly girl," he said impatiently, "I'm hardly going to rape you!"
"How do I know that?" Buffy retorted, crossing her arms but taking a cautious step forward. "I mean I don't know anything about you."
He looked at her, eyes warm and laughing, "My dear," he protested dramatically, "**Never** on a first date!" He was stunned to see Buffy start laughing as she strode forward and slid into the car next to him. He had never expected her to agree. And now here she was and was he mad to think of taking her 'There'?
"So, Ethan Rayne, where are you abducting me to?" she asked good-naturedly, adjusting the cooling vents to hit her full in the face. He tossed an appreciative smile at the sight of her upturned face with its closed eyes and fluttering hair. Even the unremarkable attire of jeans and a thin tank top looked good on her. He was reminded of one of the frequently desperate loves of his youth who had had much the same hair and lean, fit body. But Eve was long gone, along with the others, and he really was taking her to 'There'.
"It's a rather long journey so I hope you can sit still for an hour," he commented, before pulling out of the parking space and driving down the road with a purr in his throat and a roar of the car's engine. Buffy's answer was to stick her tongue out at him and wriggle further into her seat.
As time went on she was forced to admit that he hadn't been exaggerating; the drive was substantially longer than an hour and involved driving out of the City. She stared at the emergence of outer City suburbs and the beginnings of rural splendor with a growing fear for what she had gotten herself into. She remembered Giles mentioning once in a rambling speech on something else how it was through trusting Ethan Rayne just once that he had gotten himself turned into a Feorol. She wondered what the mystic had planned for his latest victim.
Ethan sensed the change in moods beside him almost as if she were talking. Funny how he'd never noticed how open the Slayer was in her emotions. "On hot summer nights, I generally take a trip to this place simply because it stays fairly cool no matter what the temperature. And there's always a place to paddle in."
Buffy stilled and looked at him with round eyes. "You're taking me to a pool?"
"A little pond actually, hidden in the most intriguing little clearing," he corrected her, "It even has ducks. I hope you're not sensitive to the slight taint of Chaos magic? Oh good! We'll get along famously then!"
Buffy just shook her head in wonder and let Ethan do the driving. When he finally pulled up inside a clearing and motioned to her to get out, all her fears were back full force. Add to that her Slayer senses tanked up by the sight of the dark natural cover around her and she was confident she shouldn't leave the car.
"I'm not kidnapping you and if you'd prefer to sit here then so be it," Ethan reminded her, dangling the keys in her face.
Buffy looked at him and noticed the amusement flicking at the corner of his wide mouth. Maybe it was the heat talking or the beers, because she was suddenly wondering what that mouth would taste like. As soon as the thought came, it left again, leaving nothing but a long 'ewwww' in its place.
"Well?" Ethan asked patiently, still offering her the keys to the car.
Buffy blinked and then bounded out nervously, ready to kill anything that touched her. Ethan followed and then took her arm gently, pulling her absently along with him as he led her down a particularly meandering way to another grassy area. And there, under the faded moon and the watery stars, Buffy Summers was treated to the spectacular sight of a small, clear pond fringed with the usual mucky green stuff and surrounded by springy grass and shrubs.
"This is- it's just- Wow!" she whispered, staring around.
"It's far too quiet for me," Ethan complained. But there was a note that the Slayer noticed in his voice, a note that said he didn't necessarily lament that fact as much as he would like her to believe.
"Take off the mask, Ethan," she asked suddenly, looking intently at him.
To say Ethan Rayne, disciple of Chaos and mercenary of magic, was stunned and confused was the least. To say he stared at her with his mouth open would be exaggeration; he was far too well trained to show it openly. He settled for a more sedate "Pardon?"
"You said it was too quiet," Buffy supplied kindly, "But you don't really think that."
"Really?" Ethan mocked smoothly, "What exactly do you think that someone like me wants with a place like this, pretty as it is? I can't use it for my wicked schemes. Though I suppose there are a few ducks and grubs in the water that I could terrorize-"
Buffy discovered that the most effective way to silence him was with her mouth and she proceeded to use that discovery until the both of them were breathless. After which she pulled away quickly and gagged, spitting and scrubbing furiously at her lips. "Oh, my God," she gasped, "I kissed Ethan Rayne! I kissed *Ethan Rayne*!"
Ethan didn't know whether to be insulted or amused. He watched her stomp up and down and agonize with her mobile little face and wildly waving hands for what seemed like forever. Until she turned her gimlet-like gaze on him and he wondered somewhat fondly whether he should quake with fear. "Are you expecting me to be scared?" he asked interestedly. She didn't answer so he kindly continued. "Yes, we kissed. It doesn't have to go further than that, my dear. Happens fairly frequently in my world though admittedly not when I'm discussing ducks." She still remained silent so he sighed and dropped the act. "Consider it forgotten, Slayer. I didn't expect you to kiss me and I don't expect you to do it again. Let's just paddle and cool down, shall we?"
Buffy was trying to collect her scattered thoughts from the grass in which they had fallen. But try as she might, she felt like she was roasting from the inside. The heat was pounding through her and she was melting straight into it, her body weak and her mind hazy. Maybe that's what this is, she decided, I've got sunstroke so I can't possibly be responsible for anything that I do right now. Once that was decided, she felt better.
"Buffy?" Ethan asked worriedly, peering down into her face.
And then it hit him- the heat. She was burning up, her gray eyes spitting fire that licked out at him and took his breath away. He was consumed, burnt and condemned at the stake and in his usual rash fashion, Ethan Rayne decided that if he had to go, he'd go out in a blaze of glory and damn the ducks and what they might witness! He grabbed Buffy, gripping her thin arms in his hands and pulled her in and up to his mouth, grinding his lips against hers in an effort to quench his thirst.
Buffy whimpered, pulling away long enough to whisper, "No masks, Ethan." Dark eyes flickered at her in an impassive face and then that mouth smiled. "No masks," Ethan agreed, taking in the flushed cheeks and sparking eyes, "By the way, you still hate me, don't you?" Buffy pressed a kiss into the soft skin of his neck before answering, "Well duh! And if you dare turn me into anything I'll tear your scrawny ass to shreds."
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Author's Note: Yes, I know most people will just say, "Oh God!" and move on. And I know this is unusual. And I know that this seems very abrupt and out of character just now. But bear with me. I'll address all of it in the following chapters.
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The night was hot, the bar was full and the beer was warm- apart from that, Buffy didn't let herself think too much about anything. She took another gulp of the bitter-tasting stuff that the bartender had drawn for her and stared morosely at the scratched wooden surface beneath her hands.
"Well, well, well," a voice spoke up behind her, "And what have we here?"
She knew who it was even before she turned and she was tempted to throw a straight right cross to the guy's face except that it required energy she didn't have at the moment. So she simply spun on her seat and glared at Ethan Rayne distastefully. "What do you want?" she sneered, "I thought you usually want to see Giles."
He slid into the seat next to hers. "You know," he murmured conspirationally, "I never really expected to see anyone at all here. I certainly didn't know you liked these dear old-fashioned pubs."
She stared the insect over and decided it was far too hot to argue. "I don't really care about it," she replied simply, "Giles mentioned the place once."
Ethan stilled and she felt the tension as he echoed her words, "Mentioned? You used the past tense, my dear."
Buffy knew what he was asking, but she didn't want to twist the knife in the wound. Maybe back in Sunnydale she would have enjoyed that but no more, and especially not in such heat. "He's still alive, Ethan. In fact, he's more alive than I've ever seen him."
Something about the say she said it made Ethan look at her shrewdly. "The masks are coming off, I presume?" Buffy nodded wordlessly and Ethan made a soundless toast to his old comrade for finally getting up the courage to do it. "I take it you don't approve?"
Gray eyes looked up at him and for once they weren't filled with animosity. Then Buffy looked away and shrugged, answering his question with a half- smile. "It's none of my business and he's already told me that. I just wanted to know that he was okay, right? But no-oo! He got all Ripper and blew me out."
Ethan laughed. He knew all about that particular little Mr. Jeckyl and Hyde personality. "My dear Slayer, you of all people must know that Ripper is really who the man is! And let me add that Ripper is not that bad once you're used to him."
"I guess!" But Buffy wasn't all that convinced. She wanted her Watcher back and never mind that she sounded about five years old when she said that, she just really needed Giles to sit down and talk to her like he used to. "He's just changed so much. Well, actually, he's just really different to how I knew him."
"Masks," Ethan commented serenely, tossing down a whiskey chaser, "Everyone uses them. Ripper is perhaps more complex than most people, but no one can be exactly how you see them. Take your little friend, for example- Willow, if I remember right- the sort you'd never believe would hurt a fly. But give her power and she's a merciless Goddess, passing judgments that are really not hers to make."
"That was different," Buffy muttered, going red and waving his words away with her left hand.
Surprisingly, Ethan caught that little hand in his slim fingers and pressed sympathetically. "Slayer, no one ever shows anyone their true face. Ripper has never trusted *himself* enough to be truthful. And his ideals remain, no matter what he acts like; rather tragic actually, all things considered. He was a barrel of laughs back in the old days."
"Why do you care so much?" Buffy snapped, pulling her hand away and wiping it on her jeans in disgust. Ethan only chuckled at her actions and tweaked a dyed blonde curl. Buffy swung in anger at him but he caught her wrist in his fingers. Whether he was unexpectedly strong or Buffy was less than half- hearted, he clamped her hand firmly to the countertop and wagged a finger in her face. "Temper, temper," he deplored teasingly, letting go.
They sat in silence for a while as Ethan ordered another drink. It was only when Buffy was contemplating leaving that he answered her still-hanging question- "He was my friend once. We may have moved on but I would not like to see him hurt."
Buffy looked up laconically and smiled knowingly. "So it's not something more?"
Ethan shook his head and gurgled in amusement. "If you are implying what I think you are, then no; not for either of us. As for anyone else since I've known him, I can't really tell you. But not me and none that I know of. Travers may have persuaded him otherwise, you never know; and I always did find his pressure on dear Ripper a little too intense."
Buffy shuddered and gave him a mock glare. "If you must torture me with images I *really* don't want, why that one?" she grumbled, paying her shot and smiling nicely at the cute guy who took her money.
Dark eyes darkened even more with a mischievous glimmer even while the mystic looked innocently at her. "Would you have preferred me to bring up the time he almost broke a man's back in that very corner there?"
Buffy looked at him with a thoughtful expression and he noticed with fascination that a little drop of sweat was trickling down her neck. He suddenly wondered whether she was remembering what and who he was and whether or not she had scrounged up the energy to kick him senseless; except she smiled and shook her head at him. "Actually, that's one I can believe."
She got up and began to walk out. Ethan looked at her slight figure winding it's way between the other customers and he made his usual split second decision, "Here!" he snapped hurriedly, slamming a couple of twenties on the table, "Keep the change, mate."
"Ta," the guy grunted, "Have a nice night."
"Hope so, love," Ethan commented, "I bloody well hope so!" He raised his voice as he caught up to her outside, "Well, since it's such a lovely night, why don't I drive you home?"
She stared at him in disbelief and asked, "A 'lovely night'? Are you insane or do you have heatstroke? It's too damned hot to think!"
"Well, then, let me drive you to a place where you can cool down," Ethan amended promptly. Buffy looked torn at the thought of coolness and at distrust for this man who had only ever caused trouble.
"No," she said finally, "And don't follow me, you creep! And don't even think of causing trouble 'cause I swear I'll break your neck if you do!" She was annoyed to find his eyes looking delighted, warming to her in ways she didn't want to think about considering they had flicked below her neckline for a second.
"How utterly charming," Ethan smirked, "but just think of what Ripper would do to me if I didn't protect you with my life."
"Kill you, probably," Buffy said bracingly, "And good riddance!"
"To bad rubbish? Yes, isn't it?" Ethan agreed, "But then I knew that before."
Buffy was walking away but paused enough to toss one last statement over her shoulder. "Yeah! You don't really go in for the masks, do you?"
"I have more masks than you'll ever find out, Buffy," Ethan said quietly.
The Slayer stopped dead in her tracks and stared doubtfully at him with a frown in her gray eyes. Not only did the man sound honest, he sounded far too certain of himself. She felt the pull of the challenge in his eyes. "I don't *want* to find out, Rayne."
Ethan shrugged and got into his sporty little car. He leaned across and pushed open the front passenger door. "Get in, you silly girl," he said impatiently, "I'm hardly going to rape you!"
"How do I know that?" Buffy retorted, crossing her arms but taking a cautious step forward. "I mean I don't know anything about you."
He looked at her, eyes warm and laughing, "My dear," he protested dramatically, "**Never** on a first date!" He was stunned to see Buffy start laughing as she strode forward and slid into the car next to him. He had never expected her to agree. And now here she was and was he mad to think of taking her 'There'?
"So, Ethan Rayne, where are you abducting me to?" she asked good-naturedly, adjusting the cooling vents to hit her full in the face. He tossed an appreciative smile at the sight of her upturned face with its closed eyes and fluttering hair. Even the unremarkable attire of jeans and a thin tank top looked good on her. He was reminded of one of the frequently desperate loves of his youth who had had much the same hair and lean, fit body. But Eve was long gone, along with the others, and he really was taking her to 'There'.
"It's a rather long journey so I hope you can sit still for an hour," he commented, before pulling out of the parking space and driving down the road with a purr in his throat and a roar of the car's engine. Buffy's answer was to stick her tongue out at him and wriggle further into her seat.
As time went on she was forced to admit that he hadn't been exaggerating; the drive was substantially longer than an hour and involved driving out of the City. She stared at the emergence of outer City suburbs and the beginnings of rural splendor with a growing fear for what she had gotten herself into. She remembered Giles mentioning once in a rambling speech on something else how it was through trusting Ethan Rayne just once that he had gotten himself turned into a Feorol. She wondered what the mystic had planned for his latest victim.
Ethan sensed the change in moods beside him almost as if she were talking. Funny how he'd never noticed how open the Slayer was in her emotions. "On hot summer nights, I generally take a trip to this place simply because it stays fairly cool no matter what the temperature. And there's always a place to paddle in."
Buffy stilled and looked at him with round eyes. "You're taking me to a pool?"
"A little pond actually, hidden in the most intriguing little clearing," he corrected her, "It even has ducks. I hope you're not sensitive to the slight taint of Chaos magic? Oh good! We'll get along famously then!"
Buffy just shook her head in wonder and let Ethan do the driving. When he finally pulled up inside a clearing and motioned to her to get out, all her fears were back full force. Add to that her Slayer senses tanked up by the sight of the dark natural cover around her and she was confident she shouldn't leave the car.
"I'm not kidnapping you and if you'd prefer to sit here then so be it," Ethan reminded her, dangling the keys in her face.
Buffy looked at him and noticed the amusement flicking at the corner of his wide mouth. Maybe it was the heat talking or the beers, because she was suddenly wondering what that mouth would taste like. As soon as the thought came, it left again, leaving nothing but a long 'ewwww' in its place.
"Well?" Ethan asked patiently, still offering her the keys to the car.
Buffy blinked and then bounded out nervously, ready to kill anything that touched her. Ethan followed and then took her arm gently, pulling her absently along with him as he led her down a particularly meandering way to another grassy area. And there, under the faded moon and the watery stars, Buffy Summers was treated to the spectacular sight of a small, clear pond fringed with the usual mucky green stuff and surrounded by springy grass and shrubs.
"This is- it's just- Wow!" she whispered, staring around.
"It's far too quiet for me," Ethan complained. But there was a note that the Slayer noticed in his voice, a note that said he didn't necessarily lament that fact as much as he would like her to believe.
"Take off the mask, Ethan," she asked suddenly, looking intently at him.
To say Ethan Rayne, disciple of Chaos and mercenary of magic, was stunned and confused was the least. To say he stared at her with his mouth open would be exaggeration; he was far too well trained to show it openly. He settled for a more sedate "Pardon?"
"You said it was too quiet," Buffy supplied kindly, "But you don't really think that."
"Really?" Ethan mocked smoothly, "What exactly do you think that someone like me wants with a place like this, pretty as it is? I can't use it for my wicked schemes. Though I suppose there are a few ducks and grubs in the water that I could terrorize-"
Buffy discovered that the most effective way to silence him was with her mouth and she proceeded to use that discovery until the both of them were breathless. After which she pulled away quickly and gagged, spitting and scrubbing furiously at her lips. "Oh, my God," she gasped, "I kissed Ethan Rayne! I kissed *Ethan Rayne*!"
Ethan didn't know whether to be insulted or amused. He watched her stomp up and down and agonize with her mobile little face and wildly waving hands for what seemed like forever. Until she turned her gimlet-like gaze on him and he wondered somewhat fondly whether he should quake with fear. "Are you expecting me to be scared?" he asked interestedly. She didn't answer so he kindly continued. "Yes, we kissed. It doesn't have to go further than that, my dear. Happens fairly frequently in my world though admittedly not when I'm discussing ducks." She still remained silent so he sighed and dropped the act. "Consider it forgotten, Slayer. I didn't expect you to kiss me and I don't expect you to do it again. Let's just paddle and cool down, shall we?"
Buffy was trying to collect her scattered thoughts from the grass in which they had fallen. But try as she might, she felt like she was roasting from the inside. The heat was pounding through her and she was melting straight into it, her body weak and her mind hazy. Maybe that's what this is, she decided, I've got sunstroke so I can't possibly be responsible for anything that I do right now. Once that was decided, she felt better.
"Buffy?" Ethan asked worriedly, peering down into her face.
And then it hit him- the heat. She was burning up, her gray eyes spitting fire that licked out at him and took his breath away. He was consumed, burnt and condemned at the stake and in his usual rash fashion, Ethan Rayne decided that if he had to go, he'd go out in a blaze of glory and damn the ducks and what they might witness! He grabbed Buffy, gripping her thin arms in his hands and pulled her in and up to his mouth, grinding his lips against hers in an effort to quench his thirst.
Buffy whimpered, pulling away long enough to whisper, "No masks, Ethan." Dark eyes flickered at her in an impassive face and then that mouth smiled. "No masks," Ethan agreed, taking in the flushed cheeks and sparking eyes, "By the way, you still hate me, don't you?" Buffy pressed a kiss into the soft skin of his neck before answering, "Well duh! And if you dare turn me into anything I'll tear your scrawny ass to shreds."