I stood outside the room for ten or fifteen minutes, listening to Ripper do…whatever it was he was doing. Sometimes it was obvious what was happening: the sound of an open palm meeting flesh, the sound of a kick leaving Ethan wheezing; the sound of a body falling.

Then sometimes it would get quiet, and that was the most disturbing.

I could hear Ethan's breathless scream as Ripper did…something. It was quiet, a hoarse, whispering cry of pure agony that stripped the air from his lungs.

Finally, I could stand it no longer. I couldn't allow Giles to do this.

I marched back into the dark room, scenting blood as I did.

Ethan lay on the floor, blood trickling from his mouth. He was panting, sweating, trembling ever so slightly while Ripper casually wiped his hands on a handkerchief, not even paying attention to me at all.

"Tell me how to break the spell." He ordered casually.

"S-Say 'pretty please'." Ethan murmured, a broken chuckle breaking through his bleeding lips.

Giles frowned, and kicked Ethan in the small of his back, making him arch and yelp in pain.

"Enough!" I snarled. Before I knew I had even moved I was across the room and somehow had Giles pressed against the wall, pinning him with one hand on his arm and one hand on his throat. He blinked at me in shock, and even…fear.

"Enough." It was a low growl. "You'll stop this at once." I told him. "You said you weren't the Ripper anymore. Prove it."

He stared at me, at first furious. Then, ever so slightly, his eyes started to soften until he looked more like Giles. He dropped his gaze and swallowed, no longer resisting my grip. His lips moved, trying to find the right words. An apology, I guessed.

"Don't." I told him. "You're not sorry. Don't try and say you are." I let him go and then turned to Ethan.

"This shouldn't have happened." I told him. "Not like this. Being a monster is not Giles' job." I looked at Giles. He wouldn't look at me.

"It's mine." I said, grinning over the words, though I felt no pleasure in them, or in the grin. It was a show. Trying to make Giles see he wasn't what he had been, but I would always be what I was born. But being a true monster is a choice.

I looked down at Ethan, raised an eyebrow at him, lowered my fangs.

"Well?" I whispered, "Shall you tell us how to break the spell, weakling? Or do I need to teach you a more thorough lesson?"

I could smell the blood on him, and it was stirring the Essence, distorting my voice, making it growl and rumble in its desire to feed. I hadn't eaten that day, so I was fighting doubly hard against the smell.

And then his fear. God, his fear. It poured off of him in waves as I felt my face alter, turning into the face of a monster.

It was euphoric.

I shuddered in anticipation and the Essence burned another growl deep in my chest and throat.

"All-all right." Ethan stammered, curling into a ball to shield himself from me.

"Janus," he continued, "break his statue."

I turned away from him, picked up the statue with one hand like it weighed nothing, and, with the Essence going mad, it really did feel feather-light. I hurled it against the opposite wall, watched it shatter, and felt the dark presence leave.

"It worked." I murmured.

"Ethan!" Giles barked in alarm, and I spun just in time to watch Ethan scurry out the back way.

Giles started to lunge for him, but I intercepted him and gripped his arm.

"He's getting away!" Giles shouted.

"Let him." I answered, pushing him back. "He's done. And so are you."

Giles stared at me a moment, then blushed and nodded, slowly.

"We should find the children." I told him, forcing the Essence to quiet down and behave itself. "No doubt there'll be much to explain."

Giles nodded again, still not looking at me.

Well, this wasn't going to be awkward at all.

We found the other children easily enough, once I'd picked up their scent. Buffy had lost her wig but otherwise was none the worse for wear. Cordelia was upset because Angel had (naturally) been more concerned about Buffy, and Xander was in a panic as to where Willow was, but we managed to find her quickly as well.

She'd ditched the ghost-sheet, and didn't even blush when she started turning heads.

What truly bothered me was the fact that Spike had been involved. I didn't think he'd had anything to do with Ethan, but he'd somehow known something was going to happen, and come hunting. Even after what I'd told him.

That hurt. But we had no time to dwell on it.

We herded the smaller children back to the school, to be picked up by their parents, and then, just like that: it was over. The wild night of monsters, madness, spells, and rivals. It was over and no one would speak of it, I knew.

How would they explain it?

They couldn't. It was far better to pretend it had never happened.

It would have been better for Giles and I, perhaps.

It was an…awkward night, to say the least. We didn't speak to each other, and the next day conversation was restricted to trivial nonsense that's always spoken in the morning. Casual inquiries as to the quality of sleep, how the tea was; was it too strong, too weak, too hot, too cold?

It was maddening, and I think we both knew it.

Finally, he could take it no more.

"Look, Margery-" he began, but I cut him off.

"It's all right." I told him. "You were upset. He goaded you."

"I shouldn't have done it all the same." Giles answered, "You were right. I'm not the Ripper. Not anymore. I put that behind me. I shouldn't have let him get to me. He always had a way of provoking people. Pressing just where he was sure to get a reaction. I knew he was like that, but I let him get to me, anyway."

He sighed, and looked at me.

"I am sorry." He murmured. "I'm sorry I behaved so abominably. I'm sorry I had so little self-control. I'm sorry I let my past get in the way of the present. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now I did exactly what he wanted me to do. I'm sorry."

I watched him. His shoulders were slumped, and he did look repentant. And I knew that deep down perhaps he hadn't meant to slip so far.

"I forgive you." I said, and then arched an eyebrow. "But how did you come to be called Ripper, anyway?"

He flushed.

"I-I…well…I was a little more…reckless, in my youth. Rebellious, and all that. Ethan and I and some other friends, we did some…very foolish things in order to feel important and powerful. Not much different from most young people. Our methods were different, however."

He didn't seem like he wanted to divulge more. I couldn't really blame him. We all had dark, embarrassing, or just plain ridiculous chapters in our life we didn't want to talk about. I knew I did. Giles wouldn't be different.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked gently, "If you don't, you don't have to."

He glanced up at me quizzically.

"You'd really not mind?" he asked. "If I didn't talk about it?"

I shrugged.

"I trust you." I told him. "In spite of what happened last night, as long as it doesn't happen again, I know who you are, now. Our past doesn't always define us. I know who you are in the present, and that's enough. Unless you want to discuss it, I'm all right with not knowing, if that's what you want."

He smiled gratefully at me.

"Thank you," he murmured. "I…might tell you one day. But for now…"

I smirked and nodded in understanding.

"For now, let's forget it happened?" I guessed. He nodded sheepishly.

"I swear I will tell you one day." He promised.

"Just promise me we've seen the last of 'Ripper'." I shrugged. "He seemed a particularly cheerless sort."

Giles chuckled, and straightened, the relief very evident on his face and in his posture.

"I think I can promise that." He nodded.

"Good." I answered. I strode across the kitchen to him and quickly encircled my arms around his waist and gave him a quick embrace.

"I much prefer Giles to Ripper." I told him.

"I do too."