Ple and I write porny porn. It's fun, if frustrating.

Nah, I don't write porny-porny porn.

Precious little of my stuff falls under porny porny porn. I eschew overt descriptions, because I have little use or liking for them. They get too clinical for my tastes.

(Been reading some, and it remains somewhat... dull for me. Because I know what cocks look like all hard and purpled with blood. They look silly. They make me giggle.)

Because I know what cocks look like all hard and purpled with blood. They look silly. They make me giggle.

Exactly. Good porn is the stuff that doesn't make me giggle and doesn't make me yawn, either. It's incredibly tricky.....

Rebecca, "Not Found".....

Really? How odd. It works for me.

But, not so important.

yes it is, damnit, and I want to read it.

The URL that comes up in the "location" box is

[link]

But no matter how I try and get in, it gives me a 404.

Buggeration!

Really! I had linked to [link]

Uh, I have it in my LJ, too, somewhere. I could find that.

Or email it to me? sf_deb@yahoo.com?

Because I just clicked on the /rliz link and I get the same 404 message. Did I already say buggeration? Because, well, buggeration.

That is so weird.

[link] anyway.

There we go - all read.

heh. Fun. But not porn - just extremely sensual.

Which is good, I like sensuality, that's rather where I live.

the finish of Ethan and the potentials. Not a good title, have to think of something else

Molly and Annabelle made deep inroads themselves on the piles of food that two waiters brought up to the suite. Whether they appreciated the good meal or the decadent bathroom more, though, was an open question. Out of respect for Giles' obvious shock, they were quiet, but Annabelle eventually took her nerve at hand.

"What are we going to do now, Mr. Giles? With the Council ... you know, and all the other potentials dead--"

"They're not all dead," Giles said firmly. He was on his third helping of chicken tikka marsala, and he'd almost fought Ethan for the naan. "There are probably a couple of dozen more potentials around the world. We'll need to gather them and get you all someplace safe."

Molly looked at Annabelle, then across the room at the television, which was running with the sound off and showing the continuing coverage of the tragic explosion and fire in the City at the unnamed research facility. A representative from Number 10 had already been on, reassuring the country that this was not a terrorist act. Giles would have laughed, if not for fear of hysteria.

"Where's safe?" Molly asked quietly. "If the First can do that ..."

"No, you're not safe here. But you will be safe--or, rather, safer--with the Slayer."

Annabelle blinked. "The--the Slayer? The real Slayer?"

"Wow," Molly breathed. "Where is she?"

"California." Giles took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "The Hellmouth."

As the two girls looked at each other, Giles looked across the room to where Ethan stood near the windows, keeping watch on the street as he ate his aloo saag. He'd been quiet since their tete a tete in the bathroom, either from reluctance to risk showing too much of his feelings in front of the girls or from regret at showing too much to Giles.

Ethan saw he was being watched. "So you're taking them to America?"

"Buffy can help keep an eye on them. And I imagine she could use the help. It's only a matter of time before the First moves on her. We need to combine our resources."

"You'll forgive me if I'm not eager to return to America myself."

Giles blinked in surprise, then nodded. "No, of course not, I shouldn't have assumed."

"A bad habit, making assumptions."

Ah, lovely, they were back to concealed daggers at arms' length from each other. But he didn't have time to deal with that. There were travel papers to acquire, one way or another, and plane tickets to organize. Giles was beginning to have very nervous feelings about being in one place too long.

Ethan helped obtain some remarkably authentic looking passports for Molly and Annabelle by the end of the day. Giles wasn't sure whether to credit magic or bribes for the speed. He didn't question it, either way. There was a plane leaving Heathrow for New York at 4 AM. The girls tried not to complain about the lack of rest and the late hour, but they were exhausted. Everyone was.

At midnight, they went down to Piccadilly Circus to start their journey to the airport. Possibly not the most efficient route, but anything to stay out of the crosshairs.

"You'll be careful?" Giles said to Ethan on the platform.

"Of course." He hefted the duffle bag of books that Giles had insisted he keep. "Are you sure you don't want to take these along?"

"I need to travel as lightly as possible. If you can't find anyplace safe to keep them, I put the address for the group in Devon in the bag. They'll be happy to keep them."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, a white coven. I'd be such a welcome visitor there. Oh, don't worry, Rupert, I have my own boltholes where the books will be perfectly safe." He slung the bag on his shoulder. "Give my love to our Buffy, won't you? Or not, depending on what mood she's in."

Giles didn't answer, too tired to deal with Ethan in this brittle mood, when all his words had knives' edges just below the surface. Someday it would sink in, that all the easy moments with Ethan were the exception, that believing the two of them could get past the tricks and plots and fists was a mug's game.

Molly hesitated a moment, then went over and kissed Ethan on the cheek. "Thank you, Mr. Rayne. For everything." Annabelle added a hug of her own.

Ethan looked utterly speechless for once in his life. Giles managed not to laugh. "My pleasure, of course, Molly, Annabelle. Anytime." All the proper instincts of a gentleman, despite all his worst intentions. He got a grip on himself. "Well, Rupert, look after yourself in America and against our unpleasant friend."

"And yourself, Ethan."

Giles made no move towards Ethan. Ethan gave him a look that suggested he might say something more, then he gave that thin, cynical smile and walked away. Giles saw Molly and Annabelle looking at him in surprise and disappointment, but he had other things to think of, safety, secrecy, the need to save the world a-bloody-gain.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall to see how long it was until the train arrived. "How can I find you?" he called.

Ethan froze for several long moments, then he turned. "What did you say?"

Giles went towards him, not wanting to shout. "How can I find you?"

The shutters were still up in Ethan's eyes. "Why would you need to? I promise I won't get into so much trouble I need--a watcher."

"I can't do this alone, Ethan. The girls and I would not be alive right now if not for you. I need someone I trust watching my back."

"If this is part of your recruiting speech for joining the side of goodness and light, Rupert, it needs some work. I think I just heard you say you trust me." He glanced towards Annabelle and Molly. "Besides, you have access to a whole group of destined warriors, there's a young woman in Sunny