In the six months since they found the four-year-old Slayer, they'd had to change their habits. He and Ripper could no longer spend the night drinking at the pub, or in performing arcane rituals.
"It could be worse," he muttered, "It could be bottles and nappies."
Ripper glared at him, over the top of Buffy's head. Oddly enough, he'd taken to this daddy stuff.
Of course, that left Ethan to do the heavy lifting. He hoisted both of their suitcases and Buffy's knapsack, and headed down to the car. Behind him, he heard Buffy ask, "Uncle Roopa, why do we have to move again?"
"Because - "
Downstairs, Ethan set down the suitcases and turned to open the boot. As he turned back, he saw the pain on Ripper's face.
"Because the bad men found out where we are."
"Can we stay at the next place?"
"For a little while."
"But I want to stay forever."
"I know, sweetheart," Ripper said, as he tucked her blanket around her and buckled her in. As he slipped behind the wheel, Ethan heard him mutter "no way to raise a child."
For the sixth time in as many months, they slipped off into the night.