Warnings and disclaimer in Chapter 1. Enjoy.
Joyce sighed in relief when she crossed the threshold into her house. It was the middle of the night and they had a psychotic vampire who could get past their protective boundary line, but after twenty minutes of staring out the window she decided to risk it. She did take precautions though. She had two stakes in her pockets and held a cross in each hand, and she made sure the crystals were both clear before she made her mad dash across the lawn.
She leaned against the closed doorway for a minute, letting her breathing calm back down as she thought about what she did. It took quite a long time for her to calm down, for a while not even holding the twins helped the raging anger she felt towards her ex-husband. Xander kept shooting concerned glances her way, while Anya watched her almost more than the movie she crashed. Andrew, uncomfortable with extreme shows of emotion, studied the movie so intently he didn't even look at her. Thankfully none of them pressed and she was feeling better when the movie ended and they went to bed. She stayed in their living room for a few more hours, mindlessly watching some late night horror film before she felt she could be in the same house as her in-laws.
With her breathing finally under control she turned to look at the house. It was obvious at first glance that everyone was upstairs in bed. She quietly made her way up the stairs, stopping outside Buffy's room. The door was closed but not shut so she gently pushed it open. She smiled at the scene inside. She expected someone to be in the bed with Buffy, but she didn't expect how completely Giles would be surrounding her, keeping her safe. She also didn't think that Dawn would be camped next to the bed, her textbook falling from limp fingers as she obviously fell asleep reading. Joyce quietly moved the book to a much safer position on the dresser before pulling the blanket up and tucking in her youngest. She turned and checked on Buffy, finding both her and Giles deeply asleep. Not willing to risk disturbing them, she backed out into the hall.
"Disgustingly charming isn't it?" She jumped at the voice, turning around with her fists raised. Ethan merely grinned at her. She glared back.
"What are you still doing here?" she hissed. "Why haven't you gone away already?"
"And miss all the fun?" he laughed mischievously. She scowled at him, glancing back to see if his outburst had woken any of them. She closed her eyes in relief when she saw they were all still sleeping. Closing the door, she glared at him once again then made her way to the kitchen. He followed her.
"Can I interest you in some tea?" he asked, looking around the kitchen until he saw the liquor cabinet. "Or perhaps something stronger?"
"Can I be blunt Mr. Rayne?" she asked as she started searching the refrigerator for some leftovers she could reheat.
"Only if you call me Ethan," he said, helping himself to a very generous portion of whiskey. He offered her the bottle, which she declined, then poured himself a second glass.
"I don't like you," she said as she put a plate in the microwave and turned to face him.
"To be fair, I didn't like you first," he countered, moving to sit opposite her on the island.
"You've never even met me until a few days ago," she sounded exasperated. He opened his mouth to protest but she silenced him with a glare. "I'm not counting teenage me, but the real adult me. How could you hate me first?"
"Because you stole him from me," Ethan said, more seriously than she had ever heard him speak. He didn't look at her, instead staring at the whiskey as if it held the answers to the universe.
"What?" she asked, not following his train of thought. He finally looked at her, his cocky grin back in place.
"Well, not necessarily you exactly, but rather your daughter." She looked at him in confusion before realizing where he was going.
"Rupert," she whispered, finally understanding what he was trying to say.
"Ripper," he confirmed, taking a deep swig of his drink. "He left me for a girl that hadn't even been born yet. At first I simply hated her, enough that I actually tried to have some fun with her." Joyce glared at him again. He raised his hands in surrender. "It was all in good fun I assure you. Even I was surprised by how successful the spell was. I never realized the true power of a Hellmouth until that time. If I knew then what I know now."
"You're not helping your cause Ethan," she told him. He shook his head to refocus his thoughts.
"That was the first time I met the girl that Ripper chose over me. She impressed me, more than I think even I realized at the time. I couldn't hate her anymore, so I focused my anger on you. When I got the job from Mr. Trick I couldn't believe my luck." He laughed. "But chaos is inherently chaotic. I met you for the first time and I couldn't hate you any longer either. You are both so spunky. I tried hating Ripper, after all he did choose you over me, but I couldn't hate him."
"So when the time came to help him you jumped," Joyce finished. She looked at him inquisitively. "You love him." He looked back into his drink.
"I've tried not to," he told her softly, "and make no mistake, I've had my fair share of lovers over the years, but no one has ever known me as well as he has." Joyce sighed as she pulled her plate from the microwave and slowly ate. "It's entirely one sided I believe. He has never shown anything more than best mate friendship toward me, and that was before our falling out." He turned to her once again. "I don't expect you to believe me any more than he did, but I am trying to help. I don't want to hurt him. I don't want to hurt anyone here because that will hurt him."
"I believe you," she said, seeing the sincerity on his face.
"Thank you," he told her.
"But that doesn't mean I trust you," Joyce added. Ethan smirked.
"You would be a fool to trust so easily," he said, "but I am trying to earn your trust. I can continue entertaining the in-laws so you won't have to."
"Thanks, but they'll be leaving in the morning." She began feeling the anger building in her again.
"I have no qualms killing that man for you?" he offered, but she shook her head.
"That man is Buffy's father," she said quietly.
"And one of her Masters," he countered. "Even I am disturbed by this."
"He'll be gone soon," she said distractedly, "and he knows not to come back. Besides, he's punishing himself more than I ever could." She stopped, looking at him intensely. "Why did you call him her Master?" He rolled up his sleeve, displaying the tattoo he showed them earlier.
"You can't get this tattoo just anywhere," he told her. "Only the Ring could mark someone with this particular brand."
"Yes, but she's never acted like that around you," Joyce said, thinking about their past interactions. "She's been drawn to you, but never scared of you."
"I've never commanded her to do anything either," he countered. "I simply cast the spell. I never tested the effectiveness of it." He sighed, looking pained at his next statement. "The tattoo on your ex-husband's arm is the mark of a buyer. As their property, the slaves of The Ring had to obey every command they gave." Joyce closed her eyes at the thought.
"So how do we undo the spell?" she asked, desperate enough to ask the chaos mage.
"I have no idea," he told her. "The spell forcing compliance was broken. She shouldn't be forced to follow any command she is given. Now the only one stopping her is herself."
"So it's a psychological reaction now?"
"I think so," he admitted. "And I have no idea how to help with that."
"Neither do I," she admitted. They fell into a comfortable silence. Ethan finished his whiskey first and casually excused himself. Joyce finished later, but found she was to wired to go to sleep. Instead she went up to her daughter's room and pulled up another chair and watched her family as they slept.
"Mom?" Dawn asked sleepily, blinking her eyes several times to try and clear them. Joyce looked up from the book she was trying to read. She picked it up last night, deciding to copy Dawn and pull one of her overstuffed chairs into Buffy's room and read. She never got far, picking up the book and reading a few pages until she lowered it and just watched her family.
"It's early Dawn," Joyce said softly, trying not to wake the Giles, or more importantly, Buffy. Dawn blinked again, twisting her body around to where her clock radio would be, but instead saw Buffy's chair. She shook her head slightly before looking at her mother.
"What time is it?" Joyce flicked her wrist.
"Just after five. You can go back to sleep for a bit."
"Naw," she replied, stretching as the blanket fell off. She stopped when she heard sounds coming from downstairs. She looked at her mother curiously.
"They're getting ready to leave," she told her daughter, trying hard to keep the anger out of her voice. She hadn't seen Hank at all, which was a relief to her, and had managed a friendly smile for Nancy, but had only been able to stare icily at Irene when she looked in on them on her way downstairs. Irene had looked at the scene in disbelief and was ready to comment when Joyce glared at her. Instead she mumbled a 'good morning' before hastily retreating. Joyce was fine with that, her anger at Hank extending to most of his family at this point.
"Are you going to go down?" Dawn asked as she stood up, picking up the blanket and quickly folding it before dropping it on the chair.
"I don't think it's a good idea," Joyce told her truthfully. Dawn nodded. While she wasn't entirely sure what happened last night, she knew it wasn't good. They both looked over when Buffy, despite sleeping deeply, shuddered. Giles automatically tightened his arm around the girl. Buffy calmed down and both of them kept sleeping.
"Well, I've entertained them the whole time. I guess it's only fitting I see them off."
"Make sure they don't leave until after sunrise," Joyce told her.
"I know," Dawn whined. "I'm not a kid anymore you know."
"I know," Joyce told her, reaching her arms out for a hug, which Dawn gave without hesitation. "I'm so proud of you." Dawn smiled before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her so nobody would inadvertently disturb them. Joyce tried to follow her own advice and get some sleep, but the increasing noise around them prevented her from doing much more than dozing. By the time the sun started peaking over the horizon she had given up on sleep and just stared out the window, watching the sun as it crept closer and closer to her house. Finally, her home was bathed in the warm glow.
She heard the front door open and close several times, but based on the noise around her she knew her in-laws had not left yet. She figured Andrew had returned to his beloved kitchen, probably with the others right on his heels. Eventually the noise quieted. Joyce was just about to try to sleep once more when there was a quiet knock on the door. She debated ignoring it momentarily before sighing. She opened the door quietly, barely resisting rolling her eyes when Irene was on the other side. She took in the scene much more composedly than she did earlier. "Joyce, we're ready to leave," she started. "I know we haven't exactly been on the best of terms this trip, or even in the last few years if we're being honest." She stopped and her gaze flicked to Buffy. She frowned slightly at the sight of Giles cradling her grandchild, but wisely kept quiet. "But if you ever need anything I want you to know you can call me. Any time, for any reason."
"Thank you," she replied, knowing Irene was holding out an olive branch even though she knew it was unlikely she would ever call them. She would call the Watcher's Council before calling these people. Irene nodded and walked off, leaving Nancy, who was standing behind her mother. Joyce didn't even notice until then.
"Well," she began awkwardly, "this has certainly been an interesting experience." Joyce gave her a small smile, her relationship with Nancy was the strongest amongst her former in-laws.
"You're handling it better than I did," Joyce told her. Nancy shook her head.
"I'm staying strong," she said, "for everyone else. Believe me, once everything settles down I am headed for some serious denial." They both laughed quietly before becoming serious again. "I don't know what my brother did, but something has been bothering him since he got back. I don't know what you talked about down in that basement, but he's been different since then, like a weight has been lifted." Joyce started to speak, but Nancy quickly continued. "I don't want to know. At least, I don't think I want to know. I just want to say thank you. I know you probably didn't want to help him, but you did." Joyce sighed.
"As much as I hate him right now, I'm glad he's finding peace." Nancy nodded and hugged Joyce.
"If you ever need anything," she said, much more sincerely than her mother. Joyce nodded, knowing she probably wouldn't take her up on her offer either. The two women pulled apart. "It really was nice seeing you again, despite the circumstances."
"You too," Joyce said, tears in her eyes. Nancy nodded as she turned and left. Joyce stood there for a few minutes, looking back at her daughter, before she decided she might as well start her day. She shut the door quietly before moving into her own room. After a quick shower and a change of clothes she felt like she could face the day. She headed to the kitchen to find the rest of the group gathered around the table in an uncomfortable silence. Even Andrew, who was usually oblivious to the moods of others, was sitting uncharacteristically quietly.
"Morning," Tara broke the silence first. She smiled nervously at Joyce.
"Morning," she responded brightly, trying to act like everything was normal. She headed into the kitchen, the others shuffling uncertainly behind her. "Pancakes?" she asked the group, surprised when Andrew didn't jump up to cook or even object to her doing the cooking.
"That would be great," Xander forced out. She nodded, pulling out what she would need to make the breakfast. A tense silence filled the room, the clinks of the pans being the only sounds filling the kitchen. "So," Xander started awkwardly, "the family is gone." Joyce sighed, laying down the spatula she had been using.
"Xander," she started, before realizing that everyone was watching her intently. "Okay everybody. Let's clear the air."
"What happened last night?" Anya asked with her usual level of bluntness. "We asked Dawn earlier, but she got really quiet and said she didn't know, which I'm not entirely sure I believe." She looked at Dawn accusingly, who wore a sheepish expression on her face.
"I don't know," she insisted, before adding reluctantly, "I do have some suspicions though. The only one who really knows is mom."
"And I don't want to talk about it," Joyce said sternly. "It's in the past, over and done with. Please don't ask me about it."
"But how are we supposed to not ask about it if you won't tell us what not to ask about?" Anya asked in her unique way. Joyce sighed and turned back to the stove instead of answering. All at once everyone turned their attention to Dawn.
"What?" she asked, before sighing. "I know it has something to do with dad. Hank I mean," she corrected automatically, "and it was bad. It's why they left so quickly this morning and why I don't think they'll ever be back." She sighed, looking at her mother intently, but she was pretending she couldn't hear any of them and just kept making breakfast. "And I think it has something to do with The Ring."
"The Ring?" Willow asked dumbfounded. "And your dad?" Dawn stayed quiet so the group turned back to Joyce. She stiffened her back but didn't turn around. The friends' expressions turned from shock to disgust as they thought about what Dawn said, and more importantly, what Joyce wasn't.
"I'll kill him." Xander didn't shout, but the quiet venom in his voice was scary.
"Xander," Joyce said in resignation. She slowly turned back to the group. "It's more complicated than that. Just please, give us time to get our heads around this."
"But what if he comes back?" Tara asked. Joyce noticed she didn't immediately object to Xander's proclamation. It showed how truly upset she was.
"He won't," she said simply, "at least not for a long time." One by one they nodded. "And please don't pester Rupert about this. Or Dawn. Or me."
"Fine," Xander conceded after a few minutes. "We'll be pester free." He thought for a minute. "We can still hate him though, right?"
"Absolutely," she grinned, returning to the oven. Soon she had a stack of pancakes, and plates full of eggs and bacon. The girls set the table while Xander and Andrew helped move all the food into the dining room. They were soon eating the delicious meal.