Title:  Rejecting Forever
Authors:  Wickedfox and Michelle
Date:  May 2005
Rating:  Mature, violence and sexual situation
Summary:  Giles has a visit from an old friend. This is a prequel to Shattered Illusions.
Disclaimer:  These are not my characters.  They belong to Joss, Twentieth Century Fox, UPN, WB & Mutant Enemy.  This is purely for fun.

~~~~

Buffy walked outside as the sun began to set. She would do a quick sweep of the cemeteries before heading over to Giles’ place. Butterflies erupted in her stomach at the thought. He had invited her over for dinner and some Watcher/Slayer bonding. He hadn’t called it a date, but that’s what it was.

“I still can’t believe it,” she muttered to herself. “A date with Giles. I wonder what Travers would say about that.”

~~~~

Patrolling didn’t take long. All the cemeteries were eerily quiet. There were no vamps anywhere, and the one demon Buffy found exploded when she staked it.

“Great Now I have to go home and change before I see Giles,” she complained.

She passed close to Giles’ place on her way home. As she did, a strange sensation came over her, one she couldn’t place. Looking around, she didn’t see anything, but there was something in the air, something she thought she should recognize. It vanished before she could be certain it was ever there. “I’ll call Giles after I go home and change into some clean clothes, just to be sure everything’s okay.”

~~~~

A substantial spark arched from Giles’ fingertip, momentarily connecting him with the metal spoon he’d released. It’d never happened before, falling victim to static electricity while cooking. Though it was odd to say the least, he thought nothing of it and continued to stir the marinara sauce slowly as it simmered atop the stove.

A knock at his door drew him out of his culinary daze, instinctively directing his eyes to the oven timer. It was far too early for Buffy to be reporting back from patrol and too late for Willow or Xander to be paying a visit. He adjusted the temperature lower in preparation of a short diversion and went to answer the door.

It never failed; you could always look to The Hellmouth in providing the unexpected. Finding Ethan Rayne poised comfortably at his door step, dripping with designer labels from head to toe, went a long way in supporting that trend. The sorcerer greeted him with a saucy smile, always a portent of trouble. That coupled with the impish glint in Ethan’s eyes did nothing to diminish the anxiety the chaos mage’s presence always produced in Giles.

“I should have known it was you. I felt a pain in the arse coming on that nauseatingly complimented the one settling into my head,” Giles said flatly, crossing his arms in an obvious show of irritation. Of course it would be too much to ask for such a passive display to scare off this persistent pest.

“Ah, but there’s much enjoyment to be had with the right kind of pain. I know it’s been a while but if you care to, we can elaborate on that intriguing pain in your arse,” Ethan smirked. The sorcerer appeared pompously overconfident, not at all intimidated by Giles’ threatening posture. Perhaps it was the obscene abuse of black in his attire, but there was something unsettling there. Then again, Ethan never could be considered to resemble anything near normal. Still, the lack of flare was uncharacteristic of the peacockish upstart.

Giles’ arms fell stiff to his sides as his hands curled firm fisted and openly hostile. “How much of your blood will I need to spill to send you on your way, Ethan?”

“Let’s remember our manners, Dear Boy. Certainly they taught you something of propriety in that prejudiced education of yours?” the sorcerer asked with a disciplinary glare. “Aren’t you going to invite an old friend in out of this revoltingly pleasant California weather?”

“I’ve made it a habit not to invite unwanted guests into my home. It reduces bothersome interferences by solicitors and evildoers; either of which you’re apt to be, I’m sure.”

“Ah, but which, I wonder? A bit of both, perhaps. Well, if you aren’t going to invite me in, then allow me.” With a wave of his hand, bluish sparks shot out to snake around Giles’ neck. The Watcher’s hands lifted to defend against the attack but it was too late as the band of energy went taut, like some mystical noose choking him. He tried to fight against it, fingers clawing at the ethereal restraint only to pass through it uselessly, scoring his neck in the desperate attempt.

“Let’s try this again, shall we? Invite me in, Rupert,” Ethan directed him with a gentle tone.

“Never,” Giles choked. The noose tightened, and with it, his knees buckled, sending him kneeling to the floor and gasping for breath.

“Lovely, just as I like you. You’ve not forgotten, Ripper, how utterly delicious.” Ethan’s eyes flickered orange to yellow and back to black. “Invite me in or die in your refusal.”

“Then… kill… me,” Giles gasped, choking out each word.

“In due time, luv, but I’ve other plans for the time being. You really are such the stubborn Watcher, as uncompromising as that pesky invitation rite. Fortunately, I neither anticipated nor require your willing invitation.”

Ethan’s free hand lifted, emitting a maroon stream of illumination that braided along the other mystical restraint until it struck hard at the core of Giles’ throat. He cried out as the powerful energies seeped within the muscles, straining them near tearing, and with the agonizing pain, he heard his voice gasp out with a forced breath, “Come in.”

An instant following the false invitation, the torturing magiks ceased to flow, and he collapsed forward, grasping at his neck in panic of the phantom noose tightening still.

“Thank you, Rupert.” Ethan stepped over the threshold with a pleased smile and calmly shut the door behind him. He returned his attention to his companion struggling to recover at his feet. “Oh stop with the bloody drama, already. You’ll only make it worse with your defiance. Submit, give it a moment and the binds will sever, as long as you don’t attempt anything foolish, that is.”

Though he had no reason to trust the sorcerer, he was familiar with this form of spell and knew what Ethan advised was, in fact, the best course of action. Even so, Giles found it difficult to simply give in to the constricting after effects. He forced his eyes closed, imagining inhaling a deep, soothing breath and let his hands fall slack to the floor. Finally, mercifully, the noose evaporated into a stinging memory.

“What…” Giles voice rasped, succumbing to a coughing fit. He swallowed hard, taking a moment before continuing. “What… do you want, Ethan?”

“You.” Ethan had said it so frankly, as if a universal truth, that it stunned Giles.

“I don’t underst…”

“Come now, Rupert, don’t play chaste with me. Let’s not forget I’m the one able to see through that particular naive facade of yours, remember?” He stepped over the fallen Watcher and made his way toward the scarce selection of whiskey and rum displayed for all to see on Giles’ kitchen counter. He took up one bottle to examine more closely, twisting off the cap to sample a whiff as he continued. “You fancy yourself a brainy sort, thick-headed with the otherworldy and worldy alike. Doesn’t take a vampire Slayer to deduce that I’ve been…”

“When?” Giles carefully worked his way back to his feet, avoiding any quick movements that might reactivate the restraint spell. “When were you turned?”

The sorcerer cast a curious glance to the Watcher. “The deed is done. Does it matter when?”

“It does to me.”

“Now that’s touching. Honestly, Ripper, I didn’t know you had it in you.” Ethan chuckled, returned the bottle to the counter top and took a seat on the chair positioned nearby. “Well, if you must know, it happened a month ago, give or take a few days. You’ll find time has little meaning to those left unpunished by its consequences.”

Giles wanted to charge the intruder. He eyed his marble statuette of the Goddess Erh, considering its weight and the damage it could inflict with a single blow. The Blessed Blade of Krinth laid just a few paces from him, if he could only motivate his feet to move. Every impulse seemed dampened, as if even the slightest action would result in a lumbering attack through immovable mud. Every thought of resistance seemed pointless.

“The endless hero, don’t bother. I’ve calculated your every move, anticipated every thought. For once, I’ve gained the upper hand between us, Rupert. Rather intoxicating, really. I can see why you enjoy beating me down as you do - so brutal and wild, the most basic of man’s nature. No matter how civilized you proclaim yourself to be, you’re always one thrust away from the beast I know and crave.”

“Who sired you?”

“Didn’t offer her name, just another mindless drone of the undead. It was for the best, I suppose, bound to be a bit of a disappointment on account of me setting her ablaze a second after my resurrection. Enough about me, Ripper. Let’s get back to you.”

Giles stood motionless, helpless as Ethan approached him, stalking him at his leisure. Dark eyes, the blackest eyes, searched along the Watcher’s body, inspecting him.

“I’ve missed you,” Ethan said sweetly, a strange sort of serenade as he closed the space between them. The old rotary phone suddenly burst into an obnoxious ring, eliciting an annoyed scowl from Giles’ dangerous seducer.

“You should answer that,” Ethan consented with a nod, his mesmerizing stare never leaving his prey.

“Perhaps… perhaps I should answer that?” Giles responded obediently. He slowly lifted the receiver to his ear, pausing a long moment before offering a greeting. “H-hello?”

“Hey, Giles. It’s Buffy?” The familiar voice sounded over the line. It was obvious Ethan had already deduced who it was or perhaps he could hear her. In either case, his smile quickly faded as he conquered more of the space between them.

“Buffy? Is something wrong… something happen?”

Rupert stared at the man inches from him, his mind adrift in those absorbing eyes. Ethan leaned in, his nose nearly brushing Giles’, then with a deep intake of breath, he closed his eyes, savoring the scent of the Watcher.

~~~~

She wanted to ask him if he’d made other plans, wanted to ask if someone was with him, wanted to ask if he’d forgotten about her, but she couldn’t do it. She was afraid of the answers, afraid she’d assumed too much.

“Just checking in to see if we’re still on for tonight,” Buffy said vaguely, giving him the chance to warn her. She knew he would find a way to tell her if he was in danger. He was trained for this.

~~~~

Giles wanted to warn her, to alert her using the cunningly masqueraded clues they’d trained to employ for just such a scenario, but his mind grew muddied as the sorcerer slipped around behind him, drawing his long fingers along Giles’ hand that cradled the phone. The instant he felt the caress, the Watcher’s lingering will drowned under the flood of arousal washing over him. He cursed his body’s reaction to the invasion, all the while unable to avert the inviting stimulation.

“Tell her something unavoidable has come up,” Ethan suggested with a whisper, fingers continuing their way up his arm, down his breathless chest and quivering abdomen to claw mischievously along the strained zipper seam of Giles’ slacks. “It’s the truth, after all, isn’t it?”

“Giles, is someone there with you?” Buffy’s voice reverberated over the line. “I didn’t mean to interrupt…”

“Buffy, I…”

“You can postpone your little affair until after I’m done with you. Besides, you’re destined to pay her a visit soon enough.” Ethan’s wandering fingers turned brazen in their exploration, pressing solidly against Giles’ insolent groin. Giles barely managed to stifle the resulting groan as Ethan’s groping intensified.

“B-Buffy, I’m afraid I have to cancel our plans, unforeseen circumstances.”

“Are you okay? You sound kinda wiggie?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with, it’s just some personal… erm, well, that is to say…”

“Tell her you need the night off, to get off … male bonding or some such nonsense…” Chilled lips kissed along Giles’ neck followed by a nibbling lick of the lobe of his ear. The silent prayers for the return of his will remained unanswered.

“Giles? Everything okay?” There was growing concern in her voice.

“It’s just… I mean, I just need some time… to myself. You know, guy time and all that.”

“Guy time? Well, okay… I guess. Um, see you later, then?”

“Yes, very good, Buffy. Thank you.” The handset returned clumsily to its stand just as Buffy voiced her final farewell.

“That’s a good boy.”

~~~~

Buffy felt the tears begin as she hung up the phone. Giles didn’t want to see her. He’d rather be alone than spend time with her. She let the door slam shut behind her as she left the house for the second time that night.

“There’s gotta be some vamps to dust,” she mumbled. “No demons this time; I just want a vamp or two.”

~~~~

“You’ll never get away with this,” Giles whimpered his half-hearted disapproval, mindlessly grinding his budding erection into the hand of his molester.

“Wrong, luv. You’ll ensure that I get away with this and a great deal more,” Ethan purred, tempting him with more licks. Then the sorcerer’s cool, moist tongue dipped within Giles’ ear, setting him stiff instantly.

“Buffy will stop you, Ethan. She’ll do what she has to do. She’ll stop me, if that’s what it takes. It’s her calling, something you can’t possibly comprehend.” All moisture evaporated from his mouth with his powerless taunts. “You underestimate her.”

“Quite the contrary, dearest, she underestimates me.” Ethan’s hand dug its way beneath the fabric of Giles slacks, burying in until it met its destination. “And so do you.”

Blunt nails grazed along Giles’ rigid flesh. It pulsed at the prompting, begging pressure with every throb and grind. It was unbearable suffering, more than any magicks Ethan could curse upon him.

“Why are you doing this?”

Ethan’s playful claws grew vicious, digging in until piercing the tender tissues of Giles’ aching shaft. Rupert winced, knees buckling as Ethan retracted. When Giles looked defiantly up at his torturer, he saw his fingers coated with the ruby evidence of his cruelty. Ethan smiled broadly, amused as he licked his bloody fingers clean one at a time.

“You loved me once,” Ethan began, softly, directing Giles to take a seat on the nearby couch. Beyond his control, Giles grudgingly obliged and Ethan continued as he slowly paced before him.

“That’s what I believed at the time, hearing it in your sated whimpers warming our bed and your pledging songs that seduced me there in the first place. I loved you like no other, unequaled since. Then you discovered your birthright, embracing your supposed duty. I presumed it a passing interest, no more genuine than any of your other idle diversions.”

The mage stopped his pacing to stare coldly down at his hostage.

“But then came her, your precious Chosen One, packaged prettily and with a purpose rivaling the greatest of martyrs. She became your passion… your inspiration. I became nothing but a denied memory, forsaken for delusions of grandeur.”

“You never did take rejection well, Ethan. It’s hardly my fault you misinterpreted the depth of our relationship.”

“Misinterpret? That bulging bit of flesh between your legs proves otherwise, luv.”

“Fuck you,” Giles snarled. “It proves nothing other than your cowardice, evoking dark magicks to take advantage of me.”

Ethan knelt down before Giles, forced his legs apart and pressed his body in between them. He leaned in, snuffing Giles’ firm groin with his own as his face hovered a breath from his. That’s when the demon finally revealed itself; eyes of flame blazing out from under the misshapen brow as his thick lips retreated back just enough to adjust for protruding fangs. But beneath it all, not well hidden behind the exterior of the menacing beast, undeniable melancholy.

Ethan’s voice became a whisper. “I’d give you eternity knowing you’ll never accept my forever.”

“Then why, Ethan?” Giles asked, more plea than question.

“In taking you, I take her, devastating all that you both ever stood for and ever will.”

“Then it’s merely revenge.”

“No, Ripper. It’s much, much more. It’s chaos.”

And after a savagely gentle kiss of his cool lips to Giles’ warm, he felt the daggered pair of teeth puncture and sink to a shallow depth within the meat of his neck. A fever rushed to welcome the wound as his blood pulsed free of his body. The vampire began to drink in the heat of his life as he labored with his last breathes. Just as the shadows of death settled in to embrace him, he felt the drizzle of tepid copper serum slick the back of his throat.

Involuntarily, his body betrayed him by swallowing. He hadn’t the strength enough to let himself die.

~~~~~~~~
The End
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