"Ethan." Giles straightened up slightly, his stance and demeanor showing he
wasn't as drunk as he projected. "What ill wind brought you in here? And
why shouldn't I kill you right now?"
His former friend looked warily around the room. "I'd say right now the answer to the first is the same as the second. Our fellow patrons are not happy to have you here. Come on." Ethan grabbed the other man's arm and tried to pull him to a standing position. He grimaced as Giles collapsed back on the barstool. "You're going to have to help me here Ripper. You're not as light as you used to be, and I'm not as versatile. I can't carry you this time."
Giles shook his head as if to clear it. "Oh God," running his hand wearily down his face, he began to rise, "I'm a bloody fool. Lead on MacDuff." So saying, he turned and followed Ethan toward a door at the rear of the building, his step weaving only slightly. They paused only once as Ethan collected a bottle and two glasses from Willie, making sure Giles had enough to pay for it.
Giles stumbled into the small room, taking in the table and chairs, as well as the various magic paraphernalia. "I see you've been making yourself at home Ethan." He turned back to find the other man chanting and marking the closed door. "What are you doing?"
Ethan didn't pause in his casting, answering Giles only when he'd finished. "Ensuring that demons don't have an open invitation to this room. I promised our patron I'd keep you alive tonight." He moved toward the table, placing the glasses upon the surface before opening the bottle. "Now then Ripper," he poured a generous amount into the first glass, "if memory serves me right you're a miserable drunk. But when you're plastered," the second glass received equal proportion, Ethan pausing as he placed the bottle on the table, "or receive other less inhibiting substance," he picked up both glasses, handing one to Giles, "why you become my old comrade in arms again. Ready to cause havoc upon the earth." Tipping his own glass in salute, he downed it in one swallow. Giles shrugged, then lifted his drink to his lips.
.........................
Buffy sighed for the tenth time in an hour, this time making sure her companion heard her. Riley's irritated look was reward for her effort, although he continued concentrating on the device in his hand. Lots of beeps coming from the thing, but nothing to show them the way. "So, what's this phosphorous thingy again?"
Riley opened his mouth to correct her pronunciation for the fifth time, then realised the futility of it. "It tracks down the creatures scent. Each living creature has a unique make up."
"DNA. Yeah I know that one."
"But that's only part of it. There's also your scent, the way you walk, your lifestyle. They all add up to create a chemical mix that is uniquely yours. This tracks that formula. First we track on the known general makeup of the creature we're hunting, then we narrow it down as we get more samples of the creature's phosphor.." He hesitated as he realised he was going to use the same word as Buffy. "Well, that's the theory anyway."
"Too bad nobody told this demon that." Buffy's frustration was evident. Willow and Xander had gone with separate teams to search other quadrants, to no avail. The strongest tail had come from the area they were now patrolling, but that had also petered out. Even with their scientific know- how and technical gadgets, the Initiative hadn't been able to find this demon. Instead, Buffy felt as though she'd wasted a whole evening. "Look, it's getting late. I'm going to patrol the cemeteries for any stray vamps, and then I'll call it a night. Maybe we'll have better luck next time."
Riley nodded, knowing she was right. "I'll call off the other teams. See you tomorrow?"
"'kay. Night." They looked at each other a few seconds longer, before turning away and walking into the night.
.....................
The original bottle lay on the table, it's clear glass reflecting the stains and watermarks upon the wooden surface. Beside it stood a second bottle, already two thirds down. Two tumblers slammed upon the table-top within a few seconds of each other. "My win!"
"Was not!"
"Come on, Ethan. You were always a bad loser."
"Only when I don't lose. I finished first. You're getting slow in your old age Ripper." Both men slurred their words, their bodies weaving slightly as they spoke. Their skulling game had gone on for almost an hour now, and Giles was indeed beating Ethan. Just. Some things did not change with age.
At Ethan's words Giles paused, a look of melancholy on his face. Ethan swore to himself as he waited for what he knew would come next. "I am old. Just an old man who keeps getting in their way. They don't need me. Do they?" He peered myopically at his old friend, a look of hope in his eyes. "It's not my fault I'm not nineteen any more is it?"
Ethan sighed, then smiled as a thought came. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the ingredients he needed. "Of course it isn't. And I bet if you were nineteen those kids wouldn't keep up with you." He glanced up to see if Giles was watching what he was doing, but the other man was lost in his melancholy.
"I guess they just don't think we have anything in common. And they're growing so fast. They've moved away from me now. They don't need me. She doesn't need me, not now she has the Initiative."
Ethan finished rolling the herbs into the paper, then licked the end down. Twisting one of the open ends slightly, he handed it over to Giles. "Here, this should cheer you up." Giles jerked up a little, then took the joint and placed it in his mouth. Ethan turned away slightly, muttering to himself.
Giles pulled the joint out of his mouth, wavering it about. "I bet she wouldn't even notice if I'd disappeared." He started patting the pockets of his jacket and pants, sighing in satisfaction when he extracted a lighter. He indicated it to the other man, who continued muttering to himself. "In fact," he paused to light the open end of the joint, drawing back until he saw the slight flare, "probably the only way I could get her to notice me is if," he drew in a mouthful of the drug, allowing it to fill his lungs as memories of other times reminded him of the rush he was about to feel, "I became a demon."
Ethan finished his muttering and turned around, smiling as he smelled the distinctive aroma of a good crop of marijuana. "No say 'I wish I was nineteen again.' Trust me on this."
Giles smiled, and duly repeated, "I wish I was nineteen again." He then took another drag on the joint before passing it onto Ethan.
His former friend looked warily around the room. "I'd say right now the answer to the first is the same as the second. Our fellow patrons are not happy to have you here. Come on." Ethan grabbed the other man's arm and tried to pull him to a standing position. He grimaced as Giles collapsed back on the barstool. "You're going to have to help me here Ripper. You're not as light as you used to be, and I'm not as versatile. I can't carry you this time."
Giles shook his head as if to clear it. "Oh God," running his hand wearily down his face, he began to rise, "I'm a bloody fool. Lead on MacDuff." So saying, he turned and followed Ethan toward a door at the rear of the building, his step weaving only slightly. They paused only once as Ethan collected a bottle and two glasses from Willie, making sure Giles had enough to pay for it.
Giles stumbled into the small room, taking in the table and chairs, as well as the various magic paraphernalia. "I see you've been making yourself at home Ethan." He turned back to find the other man chanting and marking the closed door. "What are you doing?"
Ethan didn't pause in his casting, answering Giles only when he'd finished. "Ensuring that demons don't have an open invitation to this room. I promised our patron I'd keep you alive tonight." He moved toward the table, placing the glasses upon the surface before opening the bottle. "Now then Ripper," he poured a generous amount into the first glass, "if memory serves me right you're a miserable drunk. But when you're plastered," the second glass received equal proportion, Ethan pausing as he placed the bottle on the table, "or receive other less inhibiting substance," he picked up both glasses, handing one to Giles, "why you become my old comrade in arms again. Ready to cause havoc upon the earth." Tipping his own glass in salute, he downed it in one swallow. Giles shrugged, then lifted his drink to his lips.
.........................
Buffy sighed for the tenth time in an hour, this time making sure her companion heard her. Riley's irritated look was reward for her effort, although he continued concentrating on the device in his hand. Lots of beeps coming from the thing, but nothing to show them the way. "So, what's this phosphorous thingy again?"
Riley opened his mouth to correct her pronunciation for the fifth time, then realised the futility of it. "It tracks down the creatures scent. Each living creature has a unique make up."
"DNA. Yeah I know that one."
"But that's only part of it. There's also your scent, the way you walk, your lifestyle. They all add up to create a chemical mix that is uniquely yours. This tracks that formula. First we track on the known general makeup of the creature we're hunting, then we narrow it down as we get more samples of the creature's phosphor.." He hesitated as he realised he was going to use the same word as Buffy. "Well, that's the theory anyway."
"Too bad nobody told this demon that." Buffy's frustration was evident. Willow and Xander had gone with separate teams to search other quadrants, to no avail. The strongest tail had come from the area they were now patrolling, but that had also petered out. Even with their scientific know- how and technical gadgets, the Initiative hadn't been able to find this demon. Instead, Buffy felt as though she'd wasted a whole evening. "Look, it's getting late. I'm going to patrol the cemeteries for any stray vamps, and then I'll call it a night. Maybe we'll have better luck next time."
Riley nodded, knowing she was right. "I'll call off the other teams. See you tomorrow?"
"'kay. Night." They looked at each other a few seconds longer, before turning away and walking into the night.
.....................
The original bottle lay on the table, it's clear glass reflecting the stains and watermarks upon the wooden surface. Beside it stood a second bottle, already two thirds down. Two tumblers slammed upon the table-top within a few seconds of each other. "My win!"
"Was not!"
"Come on, Ethan. You were always a bad loser."
"Only when I don't lose. I finished first. You're getting slow in your old age Ripper." Both men slurred their words, their bodies weaving slightly as they spoke. Their skulling game had gone on for almost an hour now, and Giles was indeed beating Ethan. Just. Some things did not change with age.
At Ethan's words Giles paused, a look of melancholy on his face. Ethan swore to himself as he waited for what he knew would come next. "I am old. Just an old man who keeps getting in their way. They don't need me. Do they?" He peered myopically at his old friend, a look of hope in his eyes. "It's not my fault I'm not nineteen any more is it?"
Ethan sighed, then smiled as a thought came. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the ingredients he needed. "Of course it isn't. And I bet if you were nineteen those kids wouldn't keep up with you." He glanced up to see if Giles was watching what he was doing, but the other man was lost in his melancholy.
"I guess they just don't think we have anything in common. And they're growing so fast. They've moved away from me now. They don't need me. She doesn't need me, not now she has the Initiative."
Ethan finished rolling the herbs into the paper, then licked the end down. Twisting one of the open ends slightly, he handed it over to Giles. "Here, this should cheer you up." Giles jerked up a little, then took the joint and placed it in his mouth. Ethan turned away slightly, muttering to himself.
Giles pulled the joint out of his mouth, wavering it about. "I bet she wouldn't even notice if I'd disappeared." He started patting the pockets of his jacket and pants, sighing in satisfaction when he extracted a lighter. He indicated it to the other man, who continued muttering to himself. "In fact," he paused to light the open end of the joint, drawing back until he saw the slight flare, "probably the only way I could get her to notice me is if," he drew in a mouthful of the drug, allowing it to fill his lungs as memories of other times reminded him of the rush he was about to feel, "I became a demon."
Ethan finished his muttering and turned around, smiling as he smelled the distinctive aroma of a good crop of marijuana. "No say 'I wish I was nineteen again.' Trust me on this."
Giles smiled, and duly repeated, "I wish I was nineteen again." He then took another drag on the joint before passing it onto Ethan.