Title: Inside to Outside 1/?

Author: Cyberwulf

Rating: 12s (PG-13), will be 15s (R)

Disclaimer: Joss and ME own all the characters, and have shares in the plot.

Spoilers: Takes place during and instead of "A New Man"; contains dialogue from "A New Man".

Summary: What if, instead of a Fyarl demon, Ethan had turned Giles into something else?

Distribution: Ask me first, and tell me where it's going.

Feedback: Feed the Wulf! [email protected]

   " Everything's switching. Insides to outsides … Someone's come to change it all." – Drusilla, Hallowe'en.

***

   " You know what gets me?" Giles slurred. " This is what gets me…" He took a couple of deep breaths and steadied himself in his seat. " Twenty years I've been fighting demons. Maggie Walsh and her nancy ninja boys come and…" He hiccupped. " …six months later the demons are pissing themselves with fear." He shook his head slightly. "They never even notice me."

   " Who's Maggie Walsh?" Ethan asked. He wasn't really that interested. He gazed at the waitress as she walked past. God, she had a nice arse.

   " Oh, she's awful," Giles replied glumly, staring into his glass. " She said I was a…absent male role model." A brief, bitter smile appeared on his face. " Absent my arse." He raised the glass to his lips. " Though I'm twice the man she is…"

   " You know, you're really very attractive."

   " Hmm?"

   " Here's… my name and number…" Ethan slurred, jotting something down on a scrap of paper. Giles looked up at the waitress, who was picking up the empty glasses, and nodded in understanding. A flush of embarrassment crept up the back of his neck. He should've known better than to think Ethan was chatting him up – those days were long gone.

   " You give me a call… I'll show you a good time." Ethan gave the waitress a tipsy smile as he handed her the paper.

   " Right," the waitress replied tersely. She was used to creeps hitting on her. It didn't matter, as long as they kept spending their money, and the bouncers sorted out anyone who got heavy. But this guy was especially slimy. She turned and got back to the bar as fast as she could.

   " We've gotta face it, we've changed…" Giles put his glass down. " Well, not you, you're still… sadistic and self-centred –"

   " Here's to me," Ethan replied with a grin.

   " The world has passed us by," Giles continued. His expression changed to one of wonder. " Someone… snuck in and left a couple of clapped-out has-beens in our place…" He looked up at Ethan and tried to focus. " I mean, this… Initiative. Their methods may be questionable but they're getting the job done." He sat up straighter, ignoring the wave of dizziness that cascaded over him. " What am I? I'm an unemployed librarian with a tendency to get knocked on the head and then…"

   " Well, you won't have to worry about that any more, mate," Ethan said matter-of-factly. " When you went to the loo I slipped a small pellet of poison in your drink." He paused for effect. " You'll be dead in an hour."

   A cold feeling of dread washed over Giles as he stared at Ethan in disbelief. He suddenly wanted to be sick. An image of Buffy flashed through his mind. How could he have been so stupid as to go drinking with Ethan Rayne?

   The sorcerer stared back at him… then broke into a grin.

   " Just kidding!" he exclaimed, cracking up. It was infectious, and Giles collapsed into laughter. Ethan sobered a little and gazed at his old friend. It had been a long time since he'd seen Ripper really happy. From what he could remember of his mate's drunken ramblings – the evening, like the room, was getting a little fuzzy around the edges – the brats treated him like shit. Well, when they remembered to talk to him at all. It made Ethan angry. Little bastards didn't deserve him. But try telling Ripper that. His self-esteem was so low these days, Ethan wouldn't be surprised if the former Watcher blamed himself for the way he'd been tossed aside. It made Ethan sad. It was one of the reasons he invited the beatings – making Rupert Giles angry turned him back into the fierce, powerful man he'd been twenty-five years ago. 

   Giles was coming down a little, grinning ruefully at himself and his situation. " I'm gonna feel like hell in the morning…"

   " Relax," Ethan replied. " Enjoy the night." He gave Ripper a smile. " You know, we're still a couple of old sorcerers," he remarked softly. " The night is still our time. A time of magic."

   Giles raised his shot glass of whiskey. " To magic."

   Ethan bumped his glass against Giles', and both men downed their drinks in one swallow. Giles banged his glass down on the table and his head almost followed it. He pushed himself up and leaned against the back of the seat. He sighed. Ethan copied him. Clearly Ripper wasn't done being maudlin. Still, if he needed someone to talk to, Ethan would listen. After himself, Ethan cared about exactly two people – his favourite nephew Donovan, and Ripper. He viewed the vast majority of the human race as a source of amusement, and was quite happy to spend the rest of his life alone. Ripper wasn't like that. Ripper needed human contact, emotional attachment, intimacy. A listening ear, a shoulder to cry on… a cuddle or a hug now and then. And he wasn't getting any of that, and none of his 'family' noticed or even cared. Ethan scowled briefly. Fucking kids.

   Giles traced a line in the condensation on his pint. " You know what else she did?"

   Ethan frowned in puzzlement. " Who?"

   " Maggie Walsh," Giles slurred patiently. " She said… Buffy lacked a father figure." He gave a mirthless chuckle. " She said that… right to my face." He leaned forward and held his thumb and finger close together. " Reeeaaally pointedly."

   " Yeah?"

   Giles squinted at his friend. Ethan was very blurry. He put his glasses on. It didn't help, so he took them off again.

   " Don't you get it?" he asked. " She only goes and assumes I'm Buffy's bloody dad… and then she tells me I'm crap at it." His head was nearly on the table again. Ethan reached out and gently pushed him backwards. " Thank you." He picked up his empty shot glass and studied it with a bewildered expression on his face. " Professor of psychology." He hiccupped, then grinned again. " Wonder what she'd say if she knew what I really wanted?"

   " What's that?" Ethan asked with a grin of his own, though he knew perfectly well what Giles meant. The other man's smile disappeared.

   " Oh, Ethan," he sighed. " I want…" He trailed off, unable to continue.

   " To throw Buffy down on your bed and fuck her till she can't move?" Ethan asked with a smirk.

   Giles' expression soured. " Yes, you would have to put it like that, wouldn't you?" He grew glum again, resting his cheek on his fist. " Oh, God, I love her. I love her so bloody much that I don't know what to do."

   To Ethan, the solution was obvious. " Why don't you just tell her?"

   Giles looked at Ethan as if he'd grown horns and a tail. " I can't tell her!" he replied. "She doesn't feel that way about me, and she never will." He had another mouthful of beer. " Besides, have you seen her latest boyfriend?" Ethan shook his head. " How am I supposed to compete with six foot two of clean-cut, athletic, sandy-haired all-American boy?" Giles continued. He grew bitter. " I'm just a walking library to her."

   Ethan had closed his eyes at Giles' description of Riley. " Sounds positively delicious," he purred. He opened his eyes again and leaned forward. " I could always seduce him for you."

   " Oh, please," Giles replied, making a face.

   " Just because I'm comfortable with my bisexuality –"

   " You're not bisexual, Ethan, you're just a letch," Giles slurred.

   Ethan pretended to look wounded. " Now you've hurt my feelings."

   " Makes a change, me hurting people," Giles growled sourly. " Instead of me getting hurt…" He slipped sideways and Ethan dived across the table to catch him. " Oh. Ta."

   " Let's get you home," Ethan suggested.

   " Okay," Giles replied. " I'll just finish my pint…"

   Ethan looked down at the glass he'd knocked over with his elbow. " I think it's on the floor," he said apologetically. " Sorry."

   " 'S alright," Giles managed, as Ethan helped him to his feet. " American beer tastes like piss anyway…"

   Ethan was glad it wasn't far to Giles' place. The other man could barely walk and Ethan had to half-pull, half-carry him along the street. Ethan couldn't help giggling a bit.

   " What's funny?" Giles demanded.

   " Just wondering where you put it all," Ethan replied. " I haven't seen you this full in ages."

   " I've got two hollow legs," Giles answered, " and neither of them are working properly at the moment." He rested his head on Ethan's shoulder. " So don't drop me."

   " I promise," the sorcerer reassured him. He grinned. " I also promise not to take advantage of you when I'm putting you to bed."

   Giles snorted. " Chance 'ud be a fine thing. I can't remember the last time I was involved in any kind of advantage-taking…" He made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and his head slid forward onto his chest. " No-one wants you when you're old."

   " You're NOT old," Ethan insisted patiently.

   " I am," Giles replied. " That's all I am to them now." Ethan's eyes narrowed. There was no need to ask who 'they' were. " I'm not the Watcher," Giles continued, " I'm not the mentor or the sensei, I'm not the one with all the information any more. I'm just the old guy."

   " Pack of ungrateful little shits," Ethan spat. Giles straightened up as much as he could and gave Ethan a shove.

   " Don't call them that," he growled, but without much conviction. He nearly fell and Ethan steadied him. He wrapped an arm around Giles' waist and rubbed his back.

   " I will call them that," Ethan murmured. " Nasty little brats, upsetting my Ripper. Making him feel old and useless."

   " It's not their fault," Giles slurred. " I mean, they're young, they're off making their way in the world…" He gazed blearily at Ethan. " Come on, when we were twenty and twenty-three, we didn't want to hang around with forty-six-year-olds, did we?" He sniffed. " We certainly didn't want to sleep with forty-six-year-old women…"

   " I did," Ethan replied.

   " Don't you remember our little conversation about you being a letch?"

   " I prefer to be called 'delightfully saucy'," Ethan remarked.

   Giles covered his face with one hand. " Oh, God, I think I'm going to be sick."

   Ethan halted on the footpath. " Rip, is this your house?"

   " Hmm?" Giles looked up. " Oh. Yes." Ethan helped him down the steps.

   " Keys?"

   Giles felt in all his pockets before he found them in the first pocket he'd checked. Ethan got the key in the lock on the second try, and managed to open the door on the fourth try. He pushed Giles inside.

   " You've never been in my house, have you?" Giles hiccupped.

   Ethan shook his head. Giles stood in the middle of the lounge and spun around slightly unsteadily, arms outstretched.

   " Well, that's it."

   Ethan gazed around disinterestedly, noted that the décor was not to his taste, and shrugged his shoulders. " Very… neat." He approached his old friend. " Come on, I'll put you to bed." He took Giles' arm and pulled him upstairs.

   They had just reached the landing when Giles' legs packed in completely, and he slumped against Ethan. The warlock looped his arms under the former Watcher's, and hauled him to the bed. He heaved him up onto it and started taking Giles' shoes off. That done, Ethan got to work on Giles' jeans.

   " What you doing?" Giles slurred, raising his head slightly.

   " Relax," Ethan replied with a smile. " I'm just making you more comfortable." He tugged off the trousers, then gently wrestled Giles' sweater off. Giles dropped his head on the pillow and closed his eyes.

   " Thanks for listening to me," he mumbled. " I need someone to listen sometimes…" He passed out and began to snore gently. Ethan pulled the quilt over him and sat on the edge of the bed. He gazed down at the sleeping man and sighed. Poor Ripper. The idea that had been slowly forming in his head all night now began to push through the alcoholic fog in his brain. Ethan turned away. A slow smile crept over his face. Yes. This would make Ripper happy, and it would give those kids the kick in the arse they needed. It might even open a certain Slayer's eyes to what was right in front of her. He looked down at Ripper again. Of course, he really shouldn't do it. Which, for Ethan Rayne, was the only reason to do anything.

   He closed his eyes and chanted the spell softly under his breath, careful not to wake the man next to him. He leaned over and kissed Ripper on the forehead.

   " Sleep tight," he murmured, then rose and let himself out.

***

   Giles opened his eyes a crack. There was a giant fly buzzing around his head. After a couple of seconds he realised it was his alarm clock. Mercifully, it clicked off automatically. Giles closed his eyes again and groaned. He wanted to stay in bed, but the full feeling in his bladder made that impossible. He threw off the covers and made his way into the bathroom.

   He whistled idly while he went, but gave up quickly as the sound shot through his head like nails on a blackboard. He flushed and washed his hands.

   " God, I feel like hell in the morning," he muttered, as he flicked the cabinet mirror closed.

   Giles let out a startled yell at the sight that greeted him. He touched his face to make sure it was him and gave a little jump back. No lines. No wrinkles. He turned his head to the side. No grey. He ran his hand through his hair. His longer, thicker, darker hair. Giles looked down and touched his chest. It felt different. Quickly, he shucked off his T-shirt and gasped. His pectorals were firmer, better sculpted. The belly he'd been noticing with increasing apprehension these past few years was gone. Hangover forgotten, he stared at his reflection in disbelief.

   He was a young man.

***

   " I like pancakes, because they're stackable," Buffy said brightly. " Ooh, and waffles, because you can put things in the little holes if you want."

   Willow giggled. " You should always have a new boyfriend. You're so much fun right now."

   " Riley's great," Buffy replied dreamily. " And Maggie Walsh is so cool. She's really interested in the whole mystical side of slaying." She had a forkful of pancake. " I'm telling you, Will, she and Giles would so totally get along. Y'know, I think I'll introduce them."

   Willow grimaced. " They – they kinda already met."

   " Huh," Buffy replied, looking at Willow in surprise. " When did that happen?"

   " Giles was looking for you yesterday," Willow told her. " He went to see Professor Walsh and – well, I'm not sure what happened exactly, but they didn't get along."

   Buffy frowned in puzzlement. " They didn't?"

   Willow shook her head. " Not unless 'fishwife' means something good."

   " Why was Giles looking for me, anyway?" Buffy asked.

   " This demon prince was supposed to rise last night," Willow replied. Seeing Buffy's panicked look, she added hurriedly, " But it's okay. When we got there, the Initiative had already taken care of it."

   Buffy gave a sigh of relief. " Good." She noticed Willow's serious expression. " Not good?"

   " Xander and I mentioned the Initiative to Giles last night," Willow replied. " He didn't know what we were talking about."

   Buffy's bewildered look gave way to shock and she put a hand over her mouth.

   " Oops."

   " He didn't even know that Riley was a commando," Willow continued. " Or that Maggie was in charge."

   Buffy stared down at her food, suddenly uncomfortable. " I can't believe I forgot to tell him," she murmured. She looked up at Willow again. " Was he mad?"

   " He was really hurt, Buffy," the witch replied. She remembered the look on Giles' face as he sat in the crypt, just before she and Xander had high-tailed it out of there, and suddenly wished she'd stayed to keep him company. " He's feeling neglected and outa the loop-y."

   " Oh." Buffy cheered up a little. " I'll make it up to him tomorrow." Willow looked at her. " Okay," Buffy amended, " I'll make it up to him tonight." She grinned. " I'm spending today with Riley."

   " Oh yeah," Willow replied with a grin. " I forgot that's what you always do on the days the earth rotates."

***

   Giles walked down the street, still stunned at his new appearance. He'd spent ages staring at himself in the full-length mirror in his room, unable to get over what had happened. His muscles were firmer and stronger, his skin was smooth, the niggling aches and pains he felt these days were all gone. His eyesight was better, too. He paused and gazed up at a tree, marvelling in his ability to see all the little leaves in detail instead of a big green blur. He knew Ethan had done it. What he didn't know was why. Or if it was permanent.

   He approached the bar they'd been in last night. It looked closed, but then a few guys walked in ahead of him. Giles pushed the door open, hoping the waitress Ethan had tried to pull was at work this morning.

   He ambled up to the bar, looking around. The bartender noticed him and moved swiftly down towards him.

   " If you're here to drink, I'm gonna need to see some ID," he informed him.

   Giles couldn't stop the huge grin that spread across his face. The bartender stared at him in angry puzzlement. Giles cleared his throat and got hold of himself.

   " That's all right," he replied. " I'll just have a Coke."

   The bartender gave him a last look before turning away to get his drink. Giles paid him, and leaned against the counter. He sipped his drink. Being asked for ID was probably the biggest compliment he'd been paid in quite some time, but it highlighted a rather large problem with his new appearance. He needed to find Ethan.

   " Morning, Sally," the bartender said suddenly. Giles looked up and saw the waitress from the previous night enter the bar.

   " Hey, Tom," she said wearily, heading into the back. She emerged a few minutes later, with a notepad and pen. Giles set his glass down and approached her.

   " Excuse me, miss."

   " How can I help you…" the waitress asked, then quickly swept his body with her eyes. "…sir?"

   A warm feeling rushed through Giles. It had been a while since a woman had checked him out so blatantly.

   " I'm looking for someone," he explained. " There were two men in here last night. English, like me, but older. One of them gave you his number."

   " Oh," the waitress said, remembering. " I threw it out. When I saw he was staying at that rat trap –"

   " Which rat trap?" Giles asked.

   " The Sunnydale Off-Ramp," the waitress answered.

   " Thank you," Giles replied with a smile.

   " You know, you look a lot like one of them," the waitress remarked. " Is he your dad?"

   Giles' smile grew wider. " Something like that."

   " I had to search for my dad after he went on benders, too," the waitress sighed. She smiled back at him. " I hope you find him."

   Giles nodded, then turned and headed out. The waitress pouted.

   " Damn, why couldn't *he* have given me his number last night?"

***