Chapter 14: 'Rayne, Rayne, go away, Come back Later. In fact, don't come back at all'
The first odd thing that Giles noticed was that his front door had fallen off its hinges. Well, it wasn't the first thing – it was the most telling thing. The fact all his lights were on, and the frantic cheeping off the canary could be heard four blocks away were merely preliminary indicators that pointed him in the right direction.
He approached the front doorway with caution, motioning that Anya stay behind him, and stay quiet. Picking up the metal plant stand that stood outside (it was plant-less as Anya had decided that plant free was the way to go, and Giles couldn't argue with Anya about plants, as he knew he'd probably lose), he crept cautiously through the door, wielding the metal implement as threateningly as a metal plant stand could be.
"Cheep cheep" The canary greeted Giles cheerily, and The Ex-Watcher felt a shiver of dread as he saw the bird's feed bowl was almost full. It had been nearly empty when he'd left this morning. That was eerie. Couple that with the broken door and Giles could conclude that something…weird was happening.
Anya followed Giles closely, nearly treading on his shoes, biting her lip and looking anxiously about. In fact, she was so close, she was breathing down his neck.
"Anya!" Giles whispered.
"Yes?" She replied, in an extremely loud stage whisper. Giles jumped and the plant stand quivered in his hands.
"Stop" He commanded. Anya, wearing her impossibly high pair of heels no. 37, clunked to a halt.
"Someone's here" She said quietly.
"I think they are"
"No, they are. A man is sat on your couch"
Giles looked in the direction, and with a jolt saw that Anya was right. The back of a man's head was visible, and now that he listened properly, the sound of quiet snoring was coming from that direction.
"Stay here" Giles said firmly, before making his way to the sofa.
He approached cautiously, gripping the plant stand tightly. A limp arm, an empty bottle of scotch ('My scotch!' Giles thought furiously), a shirted torso and the head of…
"Ethan Rayne" Giles whispered in shock. The man snored, and shifted slightly, a thin ribbon of drool trickled off the end of his chin.
"Who is it?" Anya asked from the door.
Giles bit his lip, and contemplated what he should do. He heard Anya clunking her way over, so she could have a look herself.
"Hmm. Do you know him?"
"Yes" Giles said darkly.
"He's fairly attractive"
"He's trouble"
"He's evil?"
Giles paused. "No. Ethan Rayne is just trouble, with a large T. Which leads me to wonder what the hell he's doing here, feeding my canary and drinking my scotch!"
"Perhaps he came to see you" Anya bent down and prodded the unconscious man in the arm. "Unless you don't have any friends?"
"Anya? What? Of course I have friends. Ethan just happens not to be one of them"
"Uhuh" Anya said, arching an eyebrow.
"Cheep cheep!" Sang the canary from the corner.
"And you can stop laughing" Giles snapped.
The Canary hung his head in shame.
"Don't take it out on Herbert! He's merely an innocent bystander. It's not his fault you're alone and friendless" Anya defended the bird to which she'd grown so attached. She understood him. Living in a cage…Eating bird mix. Very similar to a life of vengeance.
"Anya, I'm not friendless!" Giles sounded incredibly frustrated, and Anya grinned.
From the sofa, the drunken man grunted, more drool slipping down his chin, a spreading patch of wet over the collar of his shirt. The scotch bottle, completely empty, rolled off the sofa, onto the carpet. Giles sighed, and put the plant stand down.
"Go fetch the handcuffs"
Anya gazed at him in bewilderment, as the very sharp and fast turn the conversation had just taken caused it to spin off the road, into a mushroom farm. The Canary blushed bright red.
"The handcuffs" Giles repeated. "The ones under the sink…So we can stop Ethan from escaping and causing evil havoc" He elaborated.
"Oh" Anya replied. She thought about mentioning that keeping handcuffs under the sink was a bad idea as then they tended to get rusty, and then you couldn't undo them when you came to use them and so you ended up attached to your bed all day until your partner got a hacksaw from his toolbox…but she decided not to.
Giles didn't need to know that.
Anya made her way over to the sink, and indeed, there the handcuffs were, between the fairy liquid and the squeegie. The key was attached to one 'cuff with tape and Anya picked them up dubiously. Considering the guy was an ex-librarian, his cataloguing of such implements leaved much to be desired.
"Do you have them?" Giles asked from the other room. Anya lifted them up, so they dangled from one finger and rattled them in an affirmative.
She felt Giles blink, and then "Ok. Good. Bring them over here"
Shutting the cupboard door, Anya returned to the sofa. The drunken man, Ethan, was still unconscious, and no longer so attractive. He was just incredibly boring.
"Here" Anya said, and handed Giles the handcuffs. She watched as the British man fastened the other man's ankles together.
"Aren't you going to wake him up?" She asked.
"Yes, in a moment"
"Good. He's started to dribble all over your couch"
"Bugger, so he is"
Giles stood back up, having put the handcuffs firmly in place, and picked up the plant stand.
"Ethan!" He shouted, deciding there was no time like the present. "Ethan, wake up" Giles waved the plant stand a little. "Bloody hell man, your inebriated slobber is getting everywhere. Ethan!"
Anya rolled her eyes. "Give it to me" She demanded, holding her hand out for the plant stand. Doubtfully, Giles handed it over.
"Mr. Ethan, wake up now!" Anya shouted, flipping the plant stand over and prodding Ethan in the chest with the three-legged base. "Come on, wake up"
"Anya, if you're not going to use that thing sensibly…" Giles began.
Ethan grunted, and his eye-lids fluttered open. He looked incoherently about for a second and then that wide, chesire-cat grin spread across his face.
"Ripper" He drawled, more from drunken inebriation than suavity.
"You were saying?" Anya said smugly. Giles bowed his head in admittance, then balled his hand into a fist and slammed it into the side of Ethan's face.
"That was for making me a demon!" He snapped. Mr 'Farm Fresh Chicken' rubbed his cheek slowly, and looked as stunned as he could when he couldn't feel his face.
"Wait – this is the guy?" Anya asked, excitement creeping into her voice. "Is he gonna turn you back?"
"You're not meant to sound impressed, Anya"
"I'm not. Why would I be impressed? I've made people much worse things than demons…I've made them fat. And French"
Giles raised his eyebrows.
"And if I was feeling really evil, I made them fat and French – at the same time!"
From his slumped position on the sofa, Ethan chuckled.
"And I never knew you liked them so talkative"
Anya stopped, then gazed fondly at Giles.
"Is he implying that I'm your…?"
Ethan chuckled again, and Anya tightened her grip around the stand, realizing it was an insult.
"Can I prod him again?" She asked Giles. Giles took a breath and declined response.
"Don't forget who's got the plant-stand Mister!" Anya yelled, glaring at Ethan with all the fury a 21year old ex-demon, who once stood up for scorned women and looked vainy whilst she did it, could muster. Which was quite a lot. A couple of sharp prods aided her efforts.
"Alright, alright!" Ethan complained, shuffling around. "God. I take it back. I take it back" He looked at Giles "Are your women always this stroppy?"
Giles decided not to comment on that, and instead nursed his newly bruised knuckles.
"Why are you here Ethan?" He demanded. Ethan smiled his smarmy smile, and one hand lolled aimlessly through the air.
"What can I say, I like the sun"
"That's not a good answer" Giles commented idly, pacing a little. "And if you don't answer properly she'll prod you again"
Anya wielded the plant-stand a little tighter.
Ethan sighed, and sat up a little straighter, noticing his feet were handcuffed together.
"The end of the world is coming. And if it doesn't get stopped, I lose a bet"
The plant stand jabbed sharply into his ribs.
"Ow!" He exclaimed. "I'm telling the truth!"
"He probably is, Anya" Giles admitted. Anya paused, mid-jab.
"I know!" She said. She prodded him again.
"OW!" Ethan yelled. His semi-glazed eyes wandered over to look somewhere in her vicinity, glaring as much as they could. "Why are you still prodding me?"
"Because you put a bet on the end of the world!" Anya said, as if he'd asked something incredibly stupid. "What are you? An idiot?"
Giles coughed, and bit back a smile.
"Hey!" Ethan said indignantly. "I know Ripper and his little buxom Slayer – They'll stop anything from going down" He glanced at Giles "They're a wonderful constant in this world. So I thought I'd make a little money from this upcoming apocalypse"
"That is not a safe way of making money. Apocalypses are tricky things"
Ethan sneered at her "Why? Do you have personal experience?"
Anya looked at him as if he was missing a head. "I've caused four. Well…almost caused"
His blank stare was infuriating.
"I was - am evil, ok? Little Ex Ex-Demon standing right here!" Anya explained. Ethan chuckled.
"Talkitive and evil, Rupert. That's very impressive"
"Shut up" Giles snapped. "Remember I'm not the one in the handcuffs"
"Not at the moment" Came the muttered comment.
Giles paced back the way he'd come, so he was stood in front of the couch.
"So you're here, why? To check up on us?"
"What can I say – you're so bloody perceptive"
"Hmm" Giles paused, and then punched Ethan again.
"Ow" Shrieked the recivee
"Bugger!" Giles hissed, shaking his now very bruised hand in pain. He'd forgotten how painful punching people was – it never looked that hard on TV.
"How did you get out Ethan?" He snapped, "You were living the life of luxury in the Nevada desert, last I heard"
Ethan rubbed at his chin. "Met a man. And a demon. People are so easily bribed these days" His eyes glinted and Giles sighed.
"Great. And now, for that, I have to put up with you sitting on my sofa"
"You could just let me go. I did come to see you, remember – I'm not a threat"
"You're always a threat" Giles tapped his foot and realized that he was going to have to get his front door fixed at some point. Maybe Xander could do it.
"What can I say? I'm redeemed. Squeakier than a nun's shoes" Ethan continued. He grinned, smarmily. Giles began to wish he'd left him unconscious.
"But you used to be evil?" Anya asked seriously, sitting on the arm of the couch, and putting the plant stand down by her side. A wistful look appeared on her face as Ethan nodded.
"I used to be evil. Well, I am evil" She told him, sadly. Ethan nodded his head, understandingly. "But since I got into it again recently, I just can't, y'know, get in to it. Maiming, torture, making people listen to Celine Dion constantly for the rest of their lives…where once it was so much fun –now it just tastes…"
"Bitter?" Ethan offered.
"Flat"
"I see" Ethan nodded sympathetically. "I know exactly what you mean – I'm in exactly the same position" A quick glance at Giles to check his response caused the Ex-Librarian to roll his eyes.
"Ethan, you're evil, crazy and you place bets on apocalypses. If that doesn't make you twisted and sick, I don't know what does"
Ethan held out his arms. "But I'm redeemed" His voice contained a touch of mockery. "And once you and Buffy have stopped the apocalypse, I'll be on my merry rich way"
Anya gazed at him, head on one side.
Giles suddenly felt very tired.
"God, I could do with a drink right now" He muttered. His eyes rested on the empty bottle of scotch "but oh, look. You drank it. Just another reason for me to lock you in my cupboard and throw away the key"
Ethan raised his eyebrows. "I'm surprised you'd be willing to drink in my company Ripper"
"Well you weren't tied up last time"
Anya frowned.
And Herbert starting cheeping.