The previous owners had been a pair of bluish scaly looking demons, old friends of Ethan. They'd left town to avoid the slayer and had offered the use of their home to Ethan in their absence. It was outside of town and rather inconspicuous looking. Growing tired of bumming around the States and starting to feel his age, Ethan had taken up residence and avoided town as best he could manage. He'd have rather had more space between himself and Sunnydale, but beggars can't be choosers. Word of Marion's death had reached him only a day before he heard a British girl was in town looking for him.
"Well," she said as they pulled up to the dilapidated home, "it's a place to sleep." She opened her door and slung her pack over her shoulder. Ethan walked up to the front door through the overgrown lawn and unlocked it. She closed her door and followed him inside.
The house was dirty, most of the kitchen ceiling was on the kitchen floor, the bathroom made her shudder, but Stone was exhausted and failed to care. She stowed her stuff on an empty upstairs bedroom. She considered bringing her sword back down stairs with her, but thought it would be a better start with Ethan if she didn't. She put it under her pack and left to go decided which was cleaner, the couch or the floor.
"Well," she said as they pulled up to the dilapidated home, "it's a place to sleep." She opened her door and slung her pack over her shoulder. Ethan walked up to the front door through the overgrown lawn and unlocked it. She closed her door and followed him inside.
The house was dirty, most of the kitchen ceiling was on the kitchen floor, the bathroom made her shudder, but Stone was exhausted and failed to care. She stowed her stuff on an empty upstairs bedroom. She considered bringing her sword back down stairs with her, but thought it would be a better start with Ethan if she didn't. She put it under her pack and left to go decided which was cleaner, the couch or the floor.