Title: Revealing Pictures (2/16)
Series: Giles/Ethan Series (Story 1/Part 2)
Author: Adrienne S.
Disclaimer: None of these characters or situations belong to me and no copyright infringement is intended.
"Buffy?"
Buffy dropped her bag by the door and slouched into the living room.
"No luck. He won't budge."
"I could have told you that," a new, familiar voice said.
"Ethan?" Buffy glared at him. "What are you doing here?"
"Making sure that the show goes on. It isn't like I didn't expect Ripper to try to stop the exhibit. How much did he offer?"
"What?" Joyce looked puzzled as Buffy pulled out a small, folded slip of paper.
"Well. He's getting generous in his old age." Ethan handed the cheque to Joyce. "So you have a choice. Cave in to this tiresome attempt at bribery or allow me to clear up this little legal contretemps."
"Is this for real?" Joyce stared blankly at the cheque.
"Quite. And I can assure you that Ripper's good for it." Ethan smirked. "It is more than you'll get from the show, but the loss in prestige would be more expensive in the long term."
"Not if you just announce that the show is cancelled and move on," Buffy objected.
"And what would the fun be in that?" Ethan smiled. "A word here, a word there..."
"Bastard."
"Buffy!"
"Now, Joyce. I've worked hard for that title. Allow me to bask in the recognition."
"Can you stop the court order?"
"Of course I can. Ripper doesn't have a legal leg to stand on. The show's been travelling around Europe for over three years, after all. He lost the battle about model releases ages ago," Ethan said soothingly. "Don't worry. You'll get your show. And just imagine the stir when Rayne is actually at the vernissage."
"If Giles doesn't kill you first," Buffy put in darkly.
"Ah, the sucess de scandale." Ethan put a hand to his chest and gave a theatrical swoon. "How delicious."
"No, Ethan. Giles really does want to hurt you for this."
"My dear, I've lost count of the number of things Rupert Giles wants to hurt me for. It's sweet of you to be concerned, though."
---------------------
"I'm not sure I can do this." Willow clutched the books to her chest as she, Buffy, Xander and Cordelia walked toward the library. None of them were entirely sure how to face Giles, after what they had seen.
"That's my line," Xander replied, too brightly. "Xander Harris. Library. Not a match made in heaven. In fact, if it weren't for you, Buff, I wouldn't know the Dewey Decimal system from the Dewey-Truman debates."
The three girls stopped in shock.
"What? I actually paid attention in American History class last week." Xander defended himself, then looked panic stricken. "God. I really have been spending too much time in the library. I'm turning into Giles."
"Trust me, Xander, you've got a long way to go before you'll look that good in leather." Cordelia shook her head. "What? I know a good looking guy when I see one. Giles was hot when he was young."
"You think Giles is hot?" Buffy choked.
"Well, not now. Okay, the accent's a plus, but he's, like, ancient, and that whole tweed and tea thing... Eeewww."
---------------------
The tweed and tea were in full view when they walked in, a little hesitant. Well, Buffy, Willow and Xander hesitated. Cordelia walked in with confidence and approached Giles.
"So, what's all this about you shutting down the exhibit?" she demanded. "How am I supposed to meet cultured and sophisticated people if you insist on destroying my chances? I could have met the artist."
"You'll have other chances, Cordelia," Giles said stiffly, not lifting his eyes from the massive tome in his hands. "Besides, you've already met him."
"Yeah, but that was when he was creepy magic guy who helped you summon demons."
"He hasn't changed any."
"Yes, he has," Cordelia insisted. "He's a famous artist. Giles, I have to be at that opening and if you don't back off, I won't be able to."
"Yes, I've arranged this to maximize your inconvenience." Giles shut the book with a loud thump. "Live with it."
Cowed by the tone of voice and the fire in Giles' eyes, Cordelia slowly sat down.
"Jeez, try and make something of yourself and look what happens," she muttered.
"So, Watcher mine, what's up?" Buffy turned up perkiness to full volume. "Some badness? Something Hellmouthy to deal with? Some obscure prophecy of death and destruction that we can thwart?" For the first time, she was rather hoping so. Giles in librarian/Watcher/research mode was far preferable to Giles in pissed off Ripper mode.
"Well, as it happens..." Giles removed his glasses in such a characteristically Giles-ish way that she nearly cheered. "There is a prophecy, but it isn't a bad one. It's rather good, in fact."
"There is such a thing?" Buffy frowned. "Spill, Giles. What's the sitch?"
"Well, according to Ospensky, the next two weeks are supposed to be pretty much disaster free." Giles opened the book again. "Apparently, every twenty one years, about this time, the Hellmouth is rather torpid."
"Torpid?" Xander frowned. "That doesn't sound good."
"It isn't." Ethan Rayne walked in. "It's frightfully dull. Hello, Ripper."
"Ethan."
"You don't seem happy to see me."
"Am I ever?"
"There was a time. But that was long ago in a faraway country."
"To finish what I was saying..." Giles glared at Ethan, then looked back at the book. "The Hellmouth goes dormant for about a fortnight. Ospensky says it has something to do with the astronomical cycles around that time. He doesn't go into details, but looking at the last couple of centuries, it appears to be consistently quiet around here during the period in question."
"I could look into why it happens. Maybe it's sun spots or something," Willow said eagerly, her fingers already flying across the library's computer keyboard.
"That won't be necessary," Giles told her. "In fact, I would appreciate it if you would all leave and put the closed sign on the door. I have a few things I want to say to Ethan."
With cautious looks at each other, the four of them gathered their books and bags and started to drift toward the door.
As she passed him, Cordelia gave Ethan the sort of smile that melted men's hearts.
"Hi. I'm Cordelia Chase. I think we've met."
"Yes, but not under the best of circumstances." Ethan smiled back. "I would love for you to stay and chat, but I believe that your Mr Giles would like to beat the living daylights out of me. Perhaps later. You could bring me chocolates at the hospital if you like."
"That'd be great." Cordelia flashed another brilliant smile, undimmed by Xander's grabbing her arm and dragging her out.
---------------------
Buffy put the sign out, then took off down the hall at a rapid rate.
"Buffy, where are you going?" Willow ran to catch up to her.
"Outside." Buffy slowed a fraction so Willow could keep up. "I'm going back in through the stacks."
"You're going to eavesdrop?" Willow looked shocked. "I think Giles wants privacy."
"I don't care that he wants to be alone with Ethan. I care that he gets arrested for murder."
"Murder?"
"He's gonna kill Ethan."
---------------------
Buffy and Willow peered around a bookcase and took in the tableau below them. Ethan was leaning against the library table and Giles was facing him, about three feet away. Both of them had their arms folded.
"I don't have all day, Ripper," Ethan said. "Get on with it."
"No matter how much I would enjoy it, I'm not going to hit you."
"Really? How out of character for you. And I thought you had lost the ability to be unpredictable."
"Why, Ethan?" Giles barked out the question.
"Why what? You'll have to be more specific if you want an answer." Ethan unfolded his arms and idly opened the cover of one of the books on the table.
"Why the exhibit? Why did you bring it here?"
"It's a business decision," Ethan replied immediately. "A North American tour is good for business. It had nothing to do with you."
Giles just glared.
"Okay, yes, the decision to bring it here was about you," Ethan admitted. "I don't suppose I could convince you to come to the vernissage?"
"No. If I set foot in Joyce's gallery while those paintings are hanging, I'll destroy them."
"Well, that'll bring in the crowds. Not that I'll let you do it, of course. Those paintings are the most valuable pieces of my early work."
"You can't stop me."
"Oh, yes I can. I've already stopped the court order. And between a restraining order on you and a few judicious wards, I can keep you away from the gallery," Ethan said seriously. "It's nothing personal, Ripper. Not this time."
"Like hell, Ethan. It's always personal between us," Giles retorted. "If it isn't, why did you show those works in the first place? You gave me your word that you'd never show them."
"And you know what my word is worth, Ripper," Ethan said easily, then looked away. "I needed the money."
"What?"
"After the Genoa exhibit, I needed a new show and those works were all I had. A ritual involving a Darwahl demon went pear shaped and I couldn't paint for nearly a year. I was contacted to do an exhibition in Brugge, and I couldn't afford to turn it down."
"What in God's name were you doing, summoning a Darwahl demon?"
"Was that a note of caring, Ripper? I'm touched," Ethan mocked. "Suffice it to say that it's not a ritual I will try again."
"I should think not."
"Between the medical bills and the magical supplies, I needed money. The offer would pay off everything and leave a little left over. So I took it," Ethan finished. "I didn't do it to irritate you, although that was an unexpected bonus. I didn't think you'd even notice."
"I didn't. The Council did."
"The Council knows what you did back then."
"Not all of it. Do you have any idea what the consequences of your show had on me? Why the hell didn't you just contact me? I would have helped."
"I won't be a charity case, Ripper."
"I would have bought the paintings at full market value and you know it."
"You'd be willing to put that large a dent in your trust fund for a few canvases? The Council was that upset about it?"
"You cannot imagine what the results of your artistic career has had on mine."
"No, but I suspect you're going to enlighten me."
"Ethan, when I returned to the Council, I didn't tell them anything more than they already knew. They knew about the music and the magic and the fighting, but they didn't know everything. They assumed that the paintings were a chronicle of my life in London and they were honestly shocked."
"Good God. They're more prudish than I would have thought. Surely they've seen that sort of thing before?"
"Yes, but not about a Watcher about to be put in charge of an active Slayer."
"What?"
"I was supposed to be Buffy's first Watcher. Merrick was retired, living on a beach near Santa Monica. I was packed and ready to come to America when I got called on the carpet and asked to explain why a series of pictures drawn by my ex-lover were making the rounds on the Continent. And, while I was at it, could I please explain about the drinking and the drugs? And did I really fancy playing with those toys?"
"I still don't see the problem. You had strayed off the straight and narrow for a while."
"The Council was understandably concerned about sending me alone to southern California, to a high school where there are nubile young men and women, legal handguns and easy access to drugs," Giles said bluntly. "So they activated Merrick. We had to get to Buffy before she had time to access her powers on her own. His heart wasn't in it and it showed."
"But you got the job anyway."
"After Merrick died. By the time I arrived, Merrick's half assed methods nearly ruined her. I had to throw out the manuals and feel my way around. Buffy's a remarkable girl and she's done well, but her way would have been easier if I had been able to guide her from the beginning. And Merrick deserved to enjoy his retirement, not spend the last eight months of his life training an anomalous Slayer that he couldn't hope to understand."
"And you spent eight months successfully convincing the Council that you really were suitable for the post. I fail to see a problem."
"I spent the first three months of it in a mental institution," Giles said sharply.
"A mental... Ripper...?" Ethan pushed away from the table and took a step forward. Giles gave a humourless smile.
"For tests. I took every damned psychological test they could devise. Thank God for Phillip's psych texts or they would never have let me anywhere near Buffy."
"You foxed the tests? Good for you."
"Yes, good for me. I came out of those tests with pronounced stammer and an inability to play any part but that of a stuffy, tweed wearing British pedant. I don't dare. I can't even play music anymore without being terrified that they'll take me away from her."
"Ah, that explains it, then. But why didn't you just leave? You did that before, when they tried to force you to be someone you're not."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Can you put down your paintbrush, Ethan? Can you stop picking up a pencil and doodling on cocktail napkins?"
Ethan paused for a long time before he answered.
"No."
---------------------
Willow meeped as Buffy grabbed her arm and dragged her swiftly and silently out of the library the way they came. Buffy didn't stop until they had reached the fountain in the courtyard.
"Well, at least they were talking," Willow offered as Buffy dropped down and buried her face in her hands. "I mean, it's not good what they were talking about, but Giles didn't kill Ethan and that's good. Isn't it?"
"Giles was supposed to be my first Watcher." Buffy lifted her head, her eyes filled with tears. "Dammit, Merrick didn't have to die."
"Buffy, you don't know that it would have been any different with Giles," Willow said gently. "All that stuff in LA might have happened anyway."
"No, Giles is right. Merrick was... He was strange, Will. He would tell me stuff and not tell me other stuff and... Giles tells me why. Merrick never did, not like Giles does," Buffy replied. "And he didn't have the books or the weapons or the other stuff Giles has. I guess being sent in at the last minute threw him for a loop."
"Giles is your Watcher now, though, Buffy." Willow rubbed circles on Buffy's back. "It's all worked out okay. Well, okay, not okay for Merrick, but okay for you. Right?"
"At the expense of who Giles really is," Buffy said bitterly. "I've fought with Giles for years to be able to keep a little piece of Buffy Summers. The Buffy Summers I used to be, that is. And he gave up the Rupert Giles he used to be. For me."
"But... Wasn't that his choice?"
"To give up part of who he is or to be denied his Calling? Hmmm. Some choice."
---------------------
"You do understand that I won't stop the exhibit," Ethan said slowly. They were now both sitting in chairs and drinking tea that Giles had brewed. "It's my reputation and Joyce's on the line. However, I give you my word that I won't do anything to embarrass you regarding the show."
"And I know what your word is worth, Ethan, remember?"
"That's harsh, Ripper. Fair comment, but harsh. Would you feel better if I told you that I am not willing to do anything to jeopardize my only source of reliable income? Should you choose to make use of some of your contacts, I could find myself unable to hang anywhere."
"Damn. I never thought of that."
"Don't think it at all, if you would," Ethan admonished. "The Council already knows about the paintings, Ripper. They can't hurt you now."
"May I remind you that I am a librarian at an American high school? Any hint of impropriety on my part could get me fired."
"Oh, come on. I mean, we hear about American prudishness, but that's ridiculous."
"You haven't met Principal Snyder, have you?"
"The short, officious little troll who insulted me and, by the way, you, when I asked him for directions to the library?"
"You've met."
"Met, cursed, and felt ever so much better."
"You cursed him? How?"
"Nothing too serious. Incontinence is inconvenient, not fatal. Ah, now I get a laugh. I do miss your laugh, Rupert."
"I find it hard to believe that you miss anything at all about me."
"I miss a great deal more than just your laugh," Ethan said softly, reaching over to rest the tips of his fingers on Giles' right hand. Giles moved his hand away.
"I think we should move this conversation somewhere more private."
"More private? Ripper, we've been talking for nearly two hours and not a soul has come near. Are you sure this is a public school?"
"I put the closed sign out, but that won't stop the children. I expect them to show up any minute now to see if they can help dispose of your dead body."
"Ah, the sign of true friendship. You've got a loyal bunch there, Ripper. Your flat, then? Sunnydale's finest hotel is not as fine as all that. The walls are shockingly thin and the room service is appalling."
---------------------
Willow and Buffy crept quietly towards the library, only to see Xander and Cordelia coming from the opposite direction doing the same thing.
"Do you think the bloodbath is over?" Xander asked Buffy, concern wrinkling his brow.
"I'm not sure there was a bloodbath," Willow said, with a significant rise of her eyebrows.
"Good. Xander had me thinking that we'd be wading in Ethan's guts or something. And that would totally ruin my shoes," Cordelia said. "Not to mention the ick factor."
"You were the one who was sure that Giles wouldn't do anything violent." Xander looked at her.
"Well, I was. Until I remembered the last time we saw Ethan Rayne. You know, that whole Ripper thing. I mean, there has to be a reason why he's called Ripper."
"Maybe it's the fact that Ripper sounds a whole lot cooler than Rupert. Then again, anything is cooler sounding than Rupert."
"Would you guys shut up?" Buffy hissed. "If they're still talking, I don't want to disturb them."
The others subsided. Buffy went first, creeping into the library on tiptoe.
"Giles?" she called softly. "Giles?"
"They're not here," Cordelia said, after a swift look around.
"They had tea," Willow said, pointing to the two empty cups still sitting on the table. "They had tea, Buffy."
"And they didn't even tidy up," Xander added. "I'm shocked. Shocked, I tell you."
"Maybe they're friends again," Willow said hopefully.
"Whatever made you think they were friends in the first place?" Cordelia had scorn down to a fine art.
"Maybe the fact that Giles posed for Ethan? Posed naked, I might add?" Xander retorted, then paused in horror. "That means Ethan's seen Giles naked. Oh, my God."
"Xander?" Cordelia looked at him with an exasperated expression. "What's with you? Yeah, I think it's pretty obvious that Ethan's seen Giles naked. So what?"
"Oh, God. And I showered with Giles. I mean, not showered with him, as in showering with him, but showered in the locker room at the same time. You know, after that Jehar demon sprayed us with orange goo?"
"Yeah. So you showered with Giles. I showered with Willow and Buffy," Cordelia pointed out. "I even let them use my shampoo. Get your mind out of the gutter, Harris."
"It's not in the gutter, Cordy," Xander protested.
"Oh, puleeze." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Like you didn't have weird, sick adolescent fantasies about it."
"I didn't," Xander insisted, to an audience of feminine disbelieving stares. "Okay, I did."
"And I can assure you that I, at least, did not have any weird or sick fantasies about you and Giles," Buffy added.
"Me, neither. Then again, I don't have any fantasies that involve you, Xander." Cordelia turned her back on him and began to walk out. "Even if you did share a shower with Larry."
"Hey. Every guy in school shares showers, okay? There's nothing weird or sick or perverted about it."
"Then why did you bring it up?" Willow looked obviously confused.
"No reason."
"He's just being paranoid." Cordelia tossed the comment over her shoulder. "I mean, why would Giles even look at someone like you?"
"Cordelia, just what are you implying?" Buffy asked her, in a low voice. Her stomach sank. God, if Cordelia thought that...
"I'm not implying anything," Cordelia replied. "I think it's pretty obvious that Ethan and Giles had something going once upon a time."
"No. Cordy, you're completely wrong. No way. Never." Xander stated. "Not possible."
"Xander, grow up. It's none of our business whether Giles is gay or not." With that, she marched out. Buffy and Xander exchanged glances and followed. Willow remained rooted to the floor, her eyes wide.
"Giles is gay?"