2600 words and counting on my remix fic. I should have it done sometime in the wee hours Monday. Any brave betas in the area?

Moi!

He had as much trouble believing in this prosaic British world, concerned with football and rates, as Mrs. Culpepper did believing in Ethan's world of demons and magic.

connie, I love this. In fact, I think I love this whole story. There is much in your Ethan that seems very oostable just now.

I'll take a look if you like, Elena. I only wish I was getting somewhere with my remix story.

Who did you get to remix, Am? I'll take both of you up on your offer and will try to finish soon.

clapclapclapclapclap

Wonderful, connie!

Oh, yeah.

Look what I did there.

more late night writing

Ethan had chosen the hotel in London that Giles was using as the HQ of the Watcher's Council in Exile. It was a quiet neighborhood that ignored anyone who made a decent effort to be discreet. Giles was pacing in the room he was sharing with Ethan, but the connecting door to the next room was open, and another young girl was aimlessly working through the channels on the TV there.

"Sorry we're late, Rupert," Ethan said with a chipper smile. "The trains these days are appalling. This is Molly."

Giles contented himself with a glare at Ethan and a muttered, "You could have called," before he turned to Molly. "Hello, Molly, I'm Rupert Giles."

Whatever qualms Molly had had about Ethan, none of that showed with Giles. She shook his hand with a tired smile. "Hello, Mr. Giles. Mr. Rayne said you worked with the real Slayer."

"Yes, I did. I still keep in touch with her. I'm glad you made it here safely. I heard what happened to Deborah Tate, I'm sorry."

Molly looked at the floor. "I liked her." She looked up at the appearance of the other girl in the doorway. "Hi."

Giles gestured the new girl in. "Molly, this is Annabelle. She's a potential Slayer as well."

"Hi," Annabelle said, hanging back but studying Molly.

Giles moved over to Ethan. "How did it go?"

"No problems. Miss Molly reports that she has been followed, though, and she suspects they're the same people who killed Miss Tate."

"Annabelle hasn't seen anyone, but she has been on the fringes of things. No one from the Council had been to see her yet."

"So she didn't know about Slayers and all that?"

"No. Which is why I went to get her, not you. I can't imagine your explanation of vampires and Slayers and the like would be in accordance with the Council's standard party line."

"As I consider the Council's standard party line to be little more than a step-by-step manual on how to get yourself killed, you're right. Now what?"

"I need to go out." Giles looked Ethan over carefully. "How tired are you? Someone should keep watch."

"I can manage. Is there coffee?"

"Yes, that Turkish sludge you prefer."

Ethan smiled wickedly. "Why, Ripper, after all this time you still remember."

Giles didn't even bother to react. "Ladies," he said, turning to Molly and Annabelle, who had begun a cautious conversation, "I have to go out for a couple of hours. Ethan will be here keeping an eye out. Molly, Annabelle can show you where you can put your things."

The girls took the cue and moved into the other room, closing the door.

"Where are you going?" Ethan asked.

"I'm meeting someone from the Council. I need to get into the library, take a look at some files, and I don't have time to go through channels. I should be back before dawn. Look after them."

"My pleasure."

Something in Ethan's voice made Giles look at him closely. "Ethan, no games."

He managed to look innocent, an immense accomplishment. "Whatever do you mean?"

"We are here to protect them, not ..."

"Amuse ourselves?" Ethan smiled. "Not to worry, old man. I do know better than to mess about when there are good odds of something nasty popping out of the woodwork with an axe. Not to say, though--"

"Don't," Giles interrupted. "Ethan, I have not trusted you in nearly twenty-five years, don't make me regret starting now."

"And this is why I never liked the Council, it's against the rules to even think about anything fun." He patted Giles' shoulder, touching his cheek almost by accident. "Go on, and don't worry. I'll look after them as if they were my own--" He paused to think of something of sufficient importance. "My own precious skin."

Giles finally smiled. "Fine. Be careful, yourself. Try not to get an axe in the head."

"Trust me, I shall try to the utmost of my ability to avoid that. You may find the hotel a smoking wreck and the girls and I shivering on the pavement, but I will avoid any axes to the head."

Giles nodded and squeezed Ethan's shoulder as he left. Ethan sighed and scolded himself for being a nostalgic idiot, then settled into the one comfortable chair with the Thermos of hot Turkish coffee and the remote to the television.

And tomorrow, call volume willing, I'll write the conclusion.

"Go on, and don't worry. I'll look after them as if they were my own--" He paused to think of something of sufficient importance. "My own precious skin."

This sent the most delicious shiver along my own precious skin. Wonder why?

Sigh. Cannot get in the mood to write. Maybe I'll have something for SA and am tomorrow.

Ethan sighed and scolded himself for being a nostalgic idiot, then settled into the one comfortable chair with the Thermos of hot Turkish coffee and the remote to the television.

vibing for low call-volume

I think that says about everything, unless I go into the whole More! Now! routine.

RL, comment in your LJ.

Elena, insent.