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.

I keep thinking this is going to wrap up quickly. See what I know.

The step in the hallway was quiet and furtive. Ethan woke from his half-doze with the words of a fireball spell already lining up in his mind. The room was dark, though faint light showed around the edges of the window blinds.

He got up from the chair and went to stand by the connecting door. All was quiet on the other side. He debated opening the door to make sure the bad guys hadn't been able to take out two potential Slayers in absolute silence. Another step in the hallway distracted him. A quick check under the pillow on the bed showed Rupert hadn't forgotten old habits. Ethan rather thought he recognized the double-edged dagger from London days. Maybe he'd been there when Ripper had bought the thing--

Damn, he was getting maudlin in his old age. That was a hand on the doorknob. Dagger in stronger hand, spell ready with the more nimble hand--key in the lock?

Giles froze as he opened the door and saw the reception waiting for him. "Um, good morning?"

"Good morning." Ethan threw the dagger into the back of the chair he'd been sitting in. "Well, you said before dawn, I suppose the sun's not quite up yet. Are you all right?"

"Yes, fine." Giles put a hand on the dagger to stop it vibrating, then pulled it out. "Tense night?"

"No, very quiet, until I heard someone creeping down the hall. Did you get what you needed?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm going in this afternoon."

Ethan stared at him for a few moments. "Right. You get some sleep, I can keep watch."

"No, no, I'll be fine, go ahead and get some sleep. You had that long trip yesterday." Muttering a few choice words about Watchers and their lack of a reasonable sense of self-preservation, Ethan went over to grab his shoulders. As he suspected, Giles had difficulty focusing on him as his eyes wobbled from exhaustion. "You are going to get some sleep if I have to use unfair means on you."

Giles frowned suspiciously. "What sort of unfair means?"

A blast of memory, of days and days without sleep, when life was too short and too full of amazing things to learn and experience to waste time lying down with eyes closed, until you couldn't sleep even when you wanted to, and someone else had to make your mind slow down, jump the tracks into rest.

Ethan let his eyes show the memories for just a moment, then he smiled a normal smile. "Warm milk, if I must. Lullabies, if you get stubborn."

"Oh, my god, you singing. I'll be good." There were memories of his own in Giles' eyes, then he nodded in surrender and stumbled towards the bed. He sat down on the far side, slowly slumping in on himself as he let the weariness catch up with him. "Still, you can't be much better."

"I'll manage. You're right, someone needs to keep watch."

Giles frowned at him, then at the chair, then, very briefly, at the one largeish bed in the room. "You can't go forever on no sleep. And neither of us is of an age to appreciate sleeping in chairs. We could put some wards up, give us a few hours ..."

Ethan told himself very firmly that Giles was only thinking of the job to be done, that memories were only memories, not plans for the future. "I can put wards on the doors, this one and the girls'. They'll be waking up soon themselves, though."

"If they go through the door, we should know about it. I'll feel safer, regardless."

Nodding, Ethan went out into the hall to put an alarm ward on the outer door of the girls' room. When he returned, Giles was lying curled up on one side of the bed on top of the covers, fully clothed except for shoes and his glasses, which were perched on the nightstand. Were the clothes in order to be ready if something unfriendly came through the door or to avoid any comparisons to other times he hadn't slept alone?

Ethan shook his head, too tired for once to care. He took off his own shoes and laid down on the other side of the bed, sighing in mingled comfort and pain as his joints began to relax. He glanced at the man next to him, thinking of the distance forged by time and circumstance. "Good night, Rupert," he said very softly, closing his eyes.

He was snoring quietly before the soft reply came. "Good night, Ethan."

More to come!

Must remember to go to bed before midnight, though.

More! More more more more!

... um, er ... that was very nice. Please write some more soon?

A wee bit before leaving

Several hours later, two girls whispered together about what they were supposed to do about breakfast and maybe getting a shower. Mostly breakfast. Wisdom prevailed over appetite, and the two decided to consult with their strange guardians.

Molly pulled open the connecting door cautiously and peeked into the next room. Then she gestured urgently at Annabelle to come see.

The two men were snoring in harmony. Ethan was flat on his back, and Giles lay on his stomach, left arm hanging over the edge of the bed.

Annabelle smiled. "They're kind of cu--"

Ethan rolled off the bed and came up in a crouch, faint sparks crackling off the fingers of his raised right hand. Giles' dangling hand reached under the pillow and came up with a dagger even as he searched the room for a target.

"Just us, just us!" Molly shrieked. Annabelle nodded quickly.

Ethan blinked his eyes into focus, then shook the sparks off his hand. "You two. Right. Ripper, it's the girls. At least put your glasses on before you start flinging daggers round the room."

"I'm not that blind yet, idiot," Giles said, sitting up fully. "And what were you about to summon without even knowing what the hell was going on?" He yawned and stretched, his back popping loudly.

Fighting a yawn himself, Ethan leaned on the edge of the bed and looked at the girls. "You needed something?"

"Food?" Molly said cautiously.

"Wash?" Annabelle offered.

Giles blinked a little more. "Food. Yes. Tea. That does sound lovely."

"You haven't changed a bit," Ethan smirked. "Wake up, demand tea. No matter where you woke up, you had to have your tea."

Giles reached back with his dagger-free hand, but Ethan easily dodged the smack that was headed for his head. "I'm sorry we had to go the old-fashioned route with regards to facilities," he said to Annabelle. "I believe there's something down the hall. But don't take too much time over it. When you're done we'll get something to eat."

The girls disappeared eagerly, and a few moments later, Ethan winced. "Remind me to take those wards off."

"Right." But Giles looked distracted. "I'll have to take you all with me into the Council. We don't dare get separated."

Ethan managed to keep Giles from seeing his anticipatory grin. "A follower of Janus in the hallowed halls of the Watchers. Are you sure alarms won't go off?"

"No."

There was a note in Giles' voice that bothered Ethan. "Look, save the plots for breaking and entering and thievery till after you've had your tea. You were always useless before your first cuppa anyway."

Ripper appeared very briefly. "Not always."

Ethan snickered. "Always."

A wee bit before leaving

She taunts us, she teases! Give us more, please, nice Connie!

edited for personal memfault.

Give us more, please, nice Elena!

It was Connie, wasn't it?

Edited, sorry. And thanks, Steph. I plead the beginings of post-dinner food coma.

Random start of lord knows what...

-------------------

He found her waiting tables in a nondescript town somewhere up the coast. He hadn't been looking for her, or for anything, really. Aimless wanderings had taken him around the globe and back again in the years since the world had failed to end for the last time, and this was just another stop with which to mark time.

The moment of recognition did not come instantly; the slight and faded figure refilling his coffee bore little resemblance to the girl he'd once known. Lifted of her burden, she was tiny, almost fragile, her bent head and shuffled step giving the appearance of one lost in forever in thoughts of the past. Not until a clatter of shattered dishes and broken class startled the into brief awareness did he realize who she had been, once upon a time.

Her name slipped unbidden from his lips, and he was rewarded with a vacant stare that gradually filled with first confusion, then wary recognition. He wished he could take back those syllables, leave her to the shabby peace she seemed to have found in her anonymity, but wishing never made it so, as he'd learned time and time again.

He watched her fold herself away behind shuttered eyes, leaving just polite indifference as she lifted the coffee pot and moved on to the next table.

damn, Plei, you're good at atmosphere!

Also, more, Connie, please?

lighting black candles, etc. thinking of goat sacrifice, dismissing on the grounds of bloodstains, intoning, moreconniemoreconniemoreconniemore