I'm thinking, she's very focused on finding Tara. His pouting is not her concern. More a blank-faced look, one that has him muttering apologies or trying to distract her with, "tara, shiny!"... my two cents.

More a blank-faced look, one that has him muttering apologies or trying to distract her with, "tara, shiny!"... my two cents.

That would work.

Connie has triple-hiccoughs.

Connie has triple-hiccoughs.

I do? Possibly an arcane reference I'm not familiar with, possibly to be transferred wholesale into a fic once I know the meaning of it.

Your last post - it came up on my screen three times in a row.

How strange, but fixed now. Only the last one showed on my screen when I posted that, so I didn't notice it.

Oh, well, I'll troll for obscure British phraseology in your story. I need quips for Ethan.

The quips would be situational, methinks? Hang on a sec.....

Ah. Here's a fun link, if you haven't got one:

[link]

Ooh, thanks for that, Deb. It will be all sorts of helpful in the future, I hope.

Marked. Gosh, I hope the "label bookmarks" feature is high on the To Do list.

Okay, just read Thrall and I have to continue with my general shrift worship. (I'd say that I kneel before her, but you guys would find a way to make it porny) shrift, gotta say that the references to Wes smelling like jasmine freak me out.

a little bit of Ethan and Giles in the night. This will probably make more sense after I've slept and possibly tinker with it

They stopped by the Chinese Embassy at the hour appointed and picked up their visas with no problems. With their small packs of traveling necessities, Giles was reminded of their sojourn in London with Molly and Annabelle. This time, at least, the pair of them looked like eccentric but well-off adventurers instead of bums.

As they descended to the subway and the train to Narita Airport, Ethan studied Giles. "They're not going to jump out at us here in the Tokyo Underground."

Giles did not stop watching all the shadows. "I don't think stealth is a real concern for them, so long as they succeed."

Ethan latched onto Giles' sleeve as they maneuvered through the crowd. "I think they'd have a difficult enough time just getting in reach of us in this mob."

They found the correct train and made their way on. As did several hundred other people. Giles panicked a little at the crush of bodies against him. He couldn't move to keep an eye out for trouble in the crowd.

"They don't have much of a personal space taboo, do they?" Ethan observed as he was shoved up against Giles. "Would you mind moving your bag? It's digging in rather painfully to sections I'd like to keep whole."

"Sorry." Giles studied those bits of the crowd he could see over Ethan's shoulder, then tried to crane his neck around to check behind him.

"Relax," Ethan said. "You watch behind me, I'll watch behind you. Just like old times."

"Right."

The last riders where shoved into the car--literally--and the train started moving. The press of the crowd kept movement to a minimum, but Giles still twitched at the way bodies swayed into him, all the strangers at his back. At least Ethan was paying close attention to what was going on behind him. Or, actually, rather distracted attention now that Giles was looking at him. Ethan was keeping very careful watch on what was going on behind Giles. Indeed, he was looking everywhere but at Giles. A rough spot in the track made the crowd sway, and Giles bumped against Ethan. Ethan twitched and moved back just as soon as he could, but not before Giles realized why he might be a bit distracted.

And now Giles was distracted, realizing how close he was to Ethan. There in that shower back in London, they'd both been naked and in each other's arms. But that had been shock, and Giles had been holding memories and reassurance, not a man. With a sense of touched surprise, he realized that Ethan was trying to be a gentleman, both now and last night, when Ethan had taken himself off to bed rather than continue one of their old-style debates/arguments/passing the time before finding other ways to amuse themselves conversations.

He cleared his throat. "Ethan."

"Yes, Rupert?" He still wasn't taking his eyes off the crowd. The twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away.

Well, and what was he going to say? That he didn't mind that Ethan got aroused when he was close to Giles? In the words of the children, so not a place he wanted to go. Memories were memories, the past was the past, they had a job to do and physical distractions were best ignored.

Then Ethan did look at him, and Giles realized that, once again, he was not in control of a situation involving this man.

"Is that the same aftershave you wore when we were young?" Ethan asked casually. He wasn't trying quite so hard to keep from bumping against Giles.

"No," Giles said just as casually. "They don't make that anymore. In any case, I'm not wearing aftershave."

"Really?" He smiled faintly. "So it's just you, then."

"Afraid so."

The train braked for the next station, throwing them together. Ethan's smile broadened. "Is this where we--"

"Oh, don't finish that. No, this is not our stop. We get off two stops from now." He winced at the phrasing. Ethan let the obvious pun die its well-deserved death, but he smiled knowlingly.

They had to hold on to each other not to be dragged apart by the shifting crowd at the stop. Giles watched for any threats, but none materialized. He cautiously glanced back at Ethan, who raised a curious eyebrow over that half-smirk. "Oh, don't," Giles said.

Ethan blinked in near-innocence. "Don't what?"

"Don't look at me like that."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

The train started forward, bouncing them together again. Ethan did nothing overt, but he made no great effort to avoid brushing against Giles either.

"We have work to do," Giles said softly. "And we're not the men we were."

"Speak for yourself." For a moment a flash of old longings appeared in Ethan's eyes, but he considerately put it away.

Giles shook his head with grudging fondness. "Pillock."

"Prig."