'And you really have no idea what the Council want from you?' Giles asks. I sigh and run my hands through my hair.

'None at all. I don't understand why they'd suddenly… after all these years… it doesn't make any sense.' I shake my head in angry confusion. Anger is better than fear. Easier to deal with. More familiar. Less revealing.

'It's… It is a little strange,' Giles continues. 'Not so much the fact that they're trying to find you, as the fact that they know where to look.' I glance up at him quickly.

'I don't understand,' I admit. He spells it out for me.

'Well I can think of various reasons why they might be breathing down your neck… but to try and find you by calling me, less than twenty four hours after you've contacted me for the first time in twenty years… it's a bit of a coincidence…'

Anger is once again giving way to fear. Because, bloody hell, he has a point…

'I don't trust coincidences,' I say out loud.

'Neither do I…' he says with a shake of his head. 'Constantine, I'm afraid they know you're here all ready. I think they might be watching me.'

I've come to that conclusion too. It's not helping.

But it's better than most of the alternatives. Because if they're not watching Giles, then they must be watching me.

Now I think about it, if anything that seems more likely. I mean, not only do they know exactly where to look for me, they've also chosen now of all times to do it. When I'm up to my eyeballs in shit and afraid for my life.

Maybe they're hoping I'll come crawling to them, begging for their help… which is not bloody likely. I think I'd die first…

Listen to me. I say this now, but when the shit really hit the fan, I pleaded with The Snob. Maybe they know that. Maybe they know that if the smell of brimstone really does get too close, I'll take help from anyone who offers.

Maybe they're in league with the Devil. Maybe the Three set them up, just to freak me out that little bit extra.

Well, if they did, it's working. I'm freaked. Are you happy now, you bastards?

There's a ring on the doorbell. I jump. Giles stands up and answers it, warily, but it's only the slayer and her friends.

Teenagers. Bloody hell, was I ever that young?

'Hey Giles! Hanging with your demon buddy?' the boy quips. 'Ouch man, that's gotta hurt,' he continues, commenting on my black eye. I bite back a sarcastic reply.

'Constantine, meet Willow and Xander,' Giles says, taking off his glasses, and polishing them.

'We've met,' I say.

'He was tied to a chair,' the boy – Xander – points out. I'm starting to get pissed off with him already.

'Seriously, are you ok?' Willow asks kindly. 'You looked pretty beat up last night.'

I force a smile. 'I'm alright,' I answer, and it's mostly true. You can't die of morbid apprehension, and that's pretty much all I'm suffering from right now.

'Well, the good news is I didn't catch sight of your invisible attacker when I was patrolling last night,' the slayer says.

'Which isn't really surprising, seeing as he's, well, invisible!' Xander adds with a grin. Then he catches the look on my face.

'Sorry. Shutting up now,' he says.

'The bad news,' Buffy continues, 'Is that according to my sources…'

'… she asked Spike…' Willow whispers to Giles. I throw her a bemused look, and Buffy glares at both of us, without breaking her flow of speech.

'…there's a rumour about that someone's looking for a mage by the name of Constantine. And they're willing to pay big money if he's handed over… umm, the exact words were "alive but not necessarily in one piece." '

Briefly, I wonder if that's been set up by the Council, or by Hell. It sounds more like the Council, cos Hell don't usually offer payment for doing their dirty work. Of course, if they're working together, which is still a possibility, then it doesn't make all that much difference.

Giles is looking at me strangely. I don't think he can work out how I'm going to react. Trouble is neither can I.

I need a cigarette. Distracted, I fish about in my trouser pocket, but there's nothing there. Then I remember: not my bloody trousers.

'Constantine?' Giles says, with a slightly pitying look. I look up with a start, and then shrug, and decide to play it nonchalant.

'It's not the first time I've had a price on me head. But the bastards haven't got me yet, and I don't think they're about to start now. Not now that I've been warned, anyway. Thanks, luv.' I flash Buffy a grin. She doesn't smile back, but she does nod her acknowledgement, and the other two look suitably impressed. Giles, on the other hand, looks a little put out. Maybe he thinks I'm being cocky. Maybe he preferred it when I was being vulnerable.

Maybe he, like me, knows that confidence is almost never more than a mask; and maybe we're both sick of masks.

Maybe I'm thinking too much.

God I need a cigarette.

I stand up from the table, and pick up my trench coat, searching through the pockets for a packet of Silk Cut.

'Where are you going, John? Giles asks.

'Nowhere,' I say, waving the Silk Cut at him in explanation. I take one from the packet, but just before I light up, I remember that it's his house, and unlike Ripper, Giles is quite likely to complain about cigarette ash on the carpet.

'Umm… you don't mind?' I say, slightly embarrassed.

'What? Oh, no, go ahead, go ahead,' he says. 'Just mind the books.'

'It's an impressive collection. One of the best I've seen,' I comment. The closest to a compliment that I'm ever likely to get.

'Yes. Well. I've had plenty of opportunity to amass rare books. I was librarian at Sunnydale High for many years,' he says, slightly bitterly.

'Fate is cruel,' I retort. We grin at each other, sharing the joke. Buffy looks at us blankly, and Xander frowns slightly, as though he's realised that he's missed the punch line, and suddenly I'm scared I'm going to start laughing hysterically at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. I realise with a jolt that I'm so on edge I'm on the verge of losing control. So much for playing it nonchalantly. I take a long drag on my Silk Cut, hoping that no one will notice my shaking hands.

'What exactly is it that chasing after you, Mr Constantine?' Willow asks suddenly. I stare blankly at her, momentarily thrown by the name, because 'Mr Constantine' usually means trouble.

'I-I mean, umm… is it a ghost, or someone who can turn themselves invisible, or some sort of spirit? Cos if we're gonna research it… well, it would help if we knew what we were looking for,' Willow explains.

Ghosts I can deal with. Hell, ghosts I'm used to dealing with. I take a deep breath.

'I think it's some sort of demonic agent,' I say quickly.

'But we don't actually need you to read up on it,' Giles adds. 'I did some research of my own last night, and I'm pretty sure I know what our invisible attacker was…'

He flicks through one of the thick occult books until he comes to the page on invisible assassins that he showed me last night. Then he and Willow pour over the Latin text. Xander looks over their shoulders at the book and shudders.

'Sheesh! Not even any pictures…' he complains.

Well duh! They're invisible! I think spitefully in a malicious parody of his accent, remembering his earlier inane comments.

Buffy takes a look at the book herself and frowns slightly.

'Can I stake 'em?' she asks simply.

'Well that depends…' Giles says. Willow interrupts enthusiastically.

'Y'see, some of them are at least partially corporeal, and those should be pretty stake-able, but then some of them are transient, and jeez! there are even some here that are quasi-intangible, which is pretty exciting if you're interested in the quantum-occult side of things…'

'Huh?' Buffy says. 'Will, I just asked if I could stake it!'

'Oh. Well, that depends…' Willow says with an elaborate shrug. Giles sighs, exasperated.

'What I want to know,' I interrupt loudly, 'What I want to know is where the bloody thing is now. I don't care if it's quasi-insufferable, or to tell you the truth even whether or not you can stake it. I just want to know if it's still after me.'

'To be honest with you, Constantine, only you can answer that one,' Giles points out. 'Although I have to admit, I think if it was planning on killing you any time soon, it would have made another attempt last night, so I'd guess you're reasonably safe, at least for the time being…'

But before he can finish the sentence, he is cut off… because someone, or… or something… is hammering loudly on his front door.

I stand up fast, a burst of fear and adrenalin flooding through my body. I don't bloody believe this!

'Don't panic,' Giles says calmly. 'It's probably… I mean it's not necessarily…umm…' He trails off. I bury my face in my hands. The pounding is getting louder, more desperate.

'Oh bloody hell!' I say, and it's almost a whimper. Willow and Xander are staring at me. Buffy has produced a stake from nowhere and is glaring at the door.

'Giles! I know you're in there!'

It's not the threatening, silent voice of the… thing. It's… an English accent, tinged with anger, and desperation, and… fear.

Giles looks at me with a confused frown. I shrug, my panic receding slightly, but not entirely. Is this some sort of trick?

Giles hesitates, and then stands up slowly. He rests his hand briefly on my shoulder, and then cautiously goes to open the door. I hang back slightly, just in case it's… well, just in case.

'Oh thank fuck! Giles, I need your help…'

The voice is faint with pain and worry, and… strangely familiar. Frowning slightly, I try to look over Giles' shoulder inconspicuously… and then I suddenly I realise who it is that's standing outlined in the doorway, and I swear incredulously.

It's Ethan Rayne.

He's badly beaten up. He looks pale and dazed. His nose is bleeding, he's trying to stop the flow of blood with his hands, dabbing at it ineffectively, but he's only smearing the blood across his face. I expect Giles to take his arm, sit him down on the sofa, clean him up, maybe make him a cup of tea, but Giles is scowling angrily.

'Why would I help you?' he asks incredulously and harshly. Ethan seems on the verge of tears.

'I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry… I don't have anyone else to turn to. Something's after me…'

Giles seems to be working hard to control his anger.

'I hope you bloody realise,' he says quietly and dangerously, 'That under normal circumstances, there is no way I would believe a word you have to say. I don't like you, and I certainly don't trust you… but you'd better come in…'

Relief visibly washes over Ethan, and he buries his face in his hands.

'Thank you. Bloody hell, thank you…' he grovels. Giles stands aside, contempt written across his face, and Ethan steps into the house.

Then he notices me, and freezes. His eyes widen in shock, and then narrow in suspicion.

'Constantine…' he gasps. 'Oh bloody hell!' He stares at me with mistrust in his eyes, but I scarcely give him a second glance, cos I'm busy staring at Giles. I don't know where this anger on Giles' part has come from. I mean, there's always been tension between them, but… I can see hatred in Giles' eyes, and I don't understand it.

Something must have happened between him and Ethan, something big. Giles turns to Buffy.

'Go and see if you can find any trace of the thing that did this to Ethan. Anything at all. Take Willow and Xander with you,' he says urgently.

'All right,' Buffy said with a small frown, 'But I don't understand why we're helping him at all! Giles, he almost got me killed!' Giles sighs, obviously trying hard to be patient.

'I know, Buffy,' he says through gritted teeth. 'Believe me, nothing would give me greater pleasure than watching Ethan get torn to death by an invisible assassin… but if there's something that's after him and John, then that's bad news. I can't explain now, but I need your help. Please do this for me? And don't ask any questions, not yet…'

Buffy nods slowly. Then her and the others clatter noisily out of the house, talking excitedly about search tactics and slaying techniques.

'Giles, what the hell's going on?' I demand once they're out of earshot.

'What the fuck's he doing here?' Ethan says with a scowl.

'Same thing as you,' Giles says angrily. 'He needed my help. The only difference is, when he turned up on my doorstep I trusted him not to turn me into a teenager or try and get Buffy possessed!'

He trusts me more than Ethan! Well, considering the way things seem between them, that's not saying too much, but he trusts me not to get him and his slayer cursed or possessed or otherwise fucked over by the world in general. Even many of the people I consider friends dread me turning up on their doorsteps unannounced, because they don't trust me not to get them killed. And considering my track record, I really can't blame them. So it's not really so surprising that I'm pathetically grateful for Giles' little affirmation of trust.

'I'm sorry about that, Ripper mate,' Ethan says with a sickly smile. 'If I thought you'd believe me, I'd tell you it was an accident.'

Giles clenches his fists and for a moment, I think he's going to hit him.

'Giles, calm down,' I murmur. He takes a deep breath, and nods.

'Constantine, you really genuinely can't think of a single reason why the council would be after you?' he asks again. I shrug.

'No. Nothing. I've been keeping out of trouble,' I say with a slight smile. Ethan rolls his eyes and gives an exasperated sigh. Giles pointedly ignores him.

'But you have to admit, it's a bit of a coincidence, Ethan turning up here now,' he says.

'The thought had crossed my mind,' I admit. 'Last night I was certain that whatever it was that was after me, it was because of the Three. Now I'm not so sure.' Giles nods in agreement.

'It could be something to do with something we did when we were younger,' he says without much conviction. He doesn't really believe it, and neither do I. I raise an eyebrow at him, and he tries to explain his rationale.

'I mean… a far reaching consequence… of something…that we didn't register at the time…'

'… or it could be something to do with the council,' I interrupt. Giles shrugs, and then nods.

'We've been driven here, me and Ethan…' I say, thinking out loud, trying to get my thoughts in some kind of order. 'What if it's because they think we're supposed to be here? I think they might be…'

'Trying to get you to fulfil a destiny…' Giles finished for me. I nod enthusiastically.

'…but they knew we'd never cooperate…' I continue.

'…So they scared you into coming to me.' Giles realises with an incredulous, disgusted sneer. 'Made sure I was all you had left to turn to…'

'Bastards!' I yell, banging my fist down on the table hard enough to make the coffee cups rattle. Ethan jumps slightly, and then scowls at me.

'But I don't see why the Council would go to such lengths to get us to come to Giles,' he says with a sneer. 'What could possibly be happening in Sunnydale that would make the council decide we all three need to be here now? The Apocalypse?'

'He has a point…' I conceed.

'Umm I don't mean to sound arrogant, but if it was just the Apocalypse, we wouldn't actually need you,' Giles says with a strange half laugh. 'As my American friends would probably say: "Been there. Done that…" '

'You've averted Armegeddon?' I ask. Giles grins.

'More than once, actually,' he says, slightly smugly.