"Ethan…"

The air in the room went still, as though everyone had stopped breathing at once.

Giles paced toward the window running a hand roughly through his hair, he spun around facing Willow and Tara. "Why would he need such a thing?"

The two witches exchanged puzzled looks.

"I- I don't know," Tara answered nervously. "Every spell we've ever seen the placenta used in has been for good. Healing, blessings, protection, that kind of stuff? That's what we wanted it for…"

"Slimy git worships chaos," Spike growled quietly, shifting himself off the hospital bed to hover protectively over the bassinets where his daughters slept. "Something tells me that's not what his intentions are. This bastard does anything to hurt Lily or Grace and I'm gonna rip his bloody throat out."

Dawn wiggled uncomfortably in her seat next to Buffy. "Think you're going to have to save some for the rest of us if he hurts them."

"Then we make sure he doesn't get the chance," Buffy said, jaw set and steely resolve in her voice.

Willow swallowed hard. "Tara and I can still do the same protection spell on the girls we did on Connor. I- I'm not sure if I have everything we need for it though."

"Check," Buffy instructed coldly. "If you can do it now then do it, we're not waiting."

Willow nodded, pulling her messenger bag from where she had set it down and took a seat in the corner. Tara followed her down, helping her pull out spell ingredients.

"Right. That's a good start," Giles replied, turning his attention to Xander. "You said you lost Ethan between the abandoned buildings and here, correct?"

"Yeah, I thought he was crashing in one of the houses but now I kind of think maybe he just came in here," Xander replied.

"Why not both?" Buffy asked just as Lillian started to fuss.

Spike picked her up cradling her gently. "Oh now, that's enough of that sweetheart, Daddy's got you." The baby turned her little mouth toward his hand attempting to latch on. "Sorry my little love, don't think Daddy can help you there," he chuckled before handing her over to Buffy.

"Yeah I can already see where this is going," Buffy grinned tiredly, taking her and getting her situated for feeding as discreetly as possible. This nursing thing was definitely going to take some time to figure out. "You and your sister are going to make sleep impossible for Mommy, huh?"

"Oh… oh no..."

They all turned to Anya who had her hand pressed to her mouth.

"What's with the 'oh no'?" Xander asked when she didn't immediately elaborate.

She gave him a wide eyed look. "I just thought of something. What if- what if this isn't about the babies at all. What if it's because of what they are?"

"What do you mean? It's not like vampires and Slayers have babies all the time. We don't even know if they're going to have any kind of Slayer powers or anything yet. As far as we know, they're just babies," Buffy responded as she held her daughter against her chest.

"Well yeah, that's what I mean, that they shouldn't exist."

"Excuse me?" Buffy bristled.

"No, no, not like that-" Anya waved a dismissive hand, "-I mean that they are an Impossibility. They literally shouldn't exist, just like Connor, which makes them a big 'I' kind of Impossibility. Which means any part of what sustained them in the womb is also an Impossibility. The placenta, umbilical cords, the sack thingys, any of it. He wouldn't need the babies when that stuff is so much easier to get to," Anya explained in a tone reserved for teaching small children to add single digits. She sighed in exasperation when no one seemed to understand what she was saying. "There's an old saying among dark practitioners: 'Nothing is impossible when an impossibility is born'. What if what he wants the placenta for is to make something impossible, possible?"

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose and drew himself upright moving his hands to his hips, breathing deeply.

Impossible…

There were a million things Ethan could be planning and yet that single word set off a land mine in his gut. He had told Ethan what he was asking for was impossible.

Bloody hell, Ethan…

The thought gripped him by the throat. He reached for a spare plastic cup sitting on Buffy's bed table, filling it with ice water from the pitcher and drained it in one gulp as though it might wash it away. It didn't, of course.

Giles looked up to meet Spike's gaze. "We need to find him. Now," he rasped.

Spike gave him a nod and turned to Buffy. "Sun's down, can track the scent easily enough. You gonna be—"

Buffy shifted herself to sit up straighter, glaring up at him while still clutching Lillian to her chest. "Don't be stupid. We'll be fine here, I'm counting on you and Giles to stop him from- whatever the heck he's doing," Buffy answered tightly.

He leaned down, kissing her softly, laid a hand on each of the girls in turn and left following Giles down the hall.

Willow got up from her seat on the floor with a small piece of paper handing it over to Anya. "As much as I want to agree with you about this not being about the babies, I really don't want to take that chance. I'd like to give the spell as much protective oomph as we possibly can."

Anya read over the list with a little hum. "We definitely have all this in stock. We'll make the supply run and I'll send Xander back with everything. We left in a hurry so I still need to take care of a few things."

"Make it fast, we don't know how much of a head start he has," Willow replied just as little Grace started to cry for her mother. "I think we're going to have our hands full here as it is."

(*)

Spike sniffed the air, following the metallic tang that bore notes of Buffy and his daughters. The scent he'd been saturating in since their birth such a short time before was absurdly easy to follow and it struck him that Ethan must know it too.

Spike stopped in his tracks, turning to Giles. "What are the chances this is a trap?" he asked, tilting his head.

"It could be, but I doubt it," Giles cleared his throat. A small voice kept nagging from the recesses of his mind telling him Ethan wanted to be found.

Spike glared at him menacingly. "You been dancing 'round this thing a bit too much for my liking." He jabbed a finger into Giles's chest. "My girls might be in danger because of this git and you're holding something back. Now talk."

Giles stepped forward, jaw set. "I am as concerned for their safety as much as you are, I assure you," he seethed. "However, I believe Anya is correct in her belief that he is using it to achieve the impossible."

"Small comfort that," Spike replied, inhaling deeply to follow the scent as they continued down the sidewalk.

They made a turn going up the walkway of an empty house and onto the front steps. A loose piece of siding swayed in the light breeze brushing by them. Spike stood at the door with his head tilted in concentration as he sniffed the air and shot Giles a nod before dipping down to jimmy the lock. There was a tiny click and Spike lifted a finger for silence as he listened for signs of life within.

"He's definitely been here, maybe a day or so. There's something off though," Spike said, shaking his head. "Can't exactly tell what."

Giles pressed against a cracked and grime covered window, straining to see in, but to no avail. He turned back toward Spike to find him down on the overgrown lawn making his way around the side to the narrow alleyway separating it from its neighbor.

"Have you found something?"

Spike shook his head, turning demonic features and bright amber eyes on him. "Thought I heard something, gonna check it out, why don't you make yourself useful and see if you can find anything to go on. I won't be a moment."

"I'll just holler if something grabs me, shall I?" Giles scoffed but Spike was already slipping silently along the edge of the derelict house. "Very well then…" he muttered to himself as he pushed the door open.

He'd almost expected the hinges to creak from disuse but he passed through into the musty interior easily enough. It was hard to say how long it had sat empty, a few years at least judging by the very 70's color scheme and a thick layer of dust. The house had been cleared of furniture leaving wide open space and empty walls.

The scent of incense wafted towards him, a welcome change from the smell of neglect. Giles moved through the entrance and into the living room. The scent grew stronger as he neared a short hallway leading back to a closed door.

An odd mixture of emotions threatened to claw through his chest as he laid his hand on the brass doorknob. A painful yearning mixed with triumphant glee rolling around chaotically with notes of fear, love, remorse, and desperation as though they were boiling together in a pot over fire. Emotions he was sure he had never experienced to such a degree all at once.

That could mean only one thing. The spell was already underway; the chaos energy of the magic being used was undoubtedly being fueled by Ethan's emotional state.

That knowledge along with the tangible emotions radiating through the air ripped through Giles with more ferocity than he could have imagined as he threw open the door.

Candles lit the room with a warm glow, illuminating Ethan where he sat shirtless in the center of the room on a large throw pillow placed in front of a low coffee table he was using as an altar. In the center sat the large ceramic offering bowl containing a dark red mass, that made Giles's stomach twist as he realized it must be the missing placenta, placed reverently with candles all around it. If it hadn't been for that, Giles might have been able to believe Ethan was simply meditating within the large black circle painted on the hardwood floor.

Ethan opened his eyes, turning his gaze onto Giles. "You're early," he murmured, straightening his back almost regally. "No worries, darling, I'm nearly finished."

(*)

Spike circled around the back of the house, into the alley behind where a chain link fence hemmed in the property line. His already heightened senses had been going haywire since they got close to the house. He seemed to be picking up everything and nothing all at once. He was certain he would find something significant, but there was nothing— no, not true—he suddenly noticed a small blood stained muslin bag hanging from the gate. He tore the bag down and it squished unpleasantly in his palm. "What the hell?" Spike murmured, as he opened it to find a small piece of umbilical cord.

A spell.

A distraction.

Spike turned back toward the house as a rock dropped in the pit of his stomach.

A trap.

(*)

"Stop this, Ethan," Giles ground out.

"What ever happened to your sense of adventure?" Ethan rolled his neck, a motion that accentuated the lithe wiry muscles of his neck and chest. "No matter," he murmured, not waiting for an answer as he closed his eyes again.

Giles took several steps toward him. "What are you doing?"

"Reminding you who you used to be, my Ripper," Ethan answered without opening his eyes. He raised his left arm, taking up a small sharp knife with his right, raising it to his own palm.

"Have you lost your mind?" Giles rushed forward into the circle, grabbing Ethan's wrist firmly. "Stop!

Ethan's eyes flashed open, locking with Giles as three drops of his blood dropped into the bowl. "It's too late. I can't stop it now. I know you can feel it; the energy, the magic, the heat. I told you what I wanted and you threw me out. I'm just making the impossible possible."

"What have you done?" Giles asked in a desperate whisper.

"Now, now. We can't spoil the surprise," Ethan grinned.

Giles pulled back his free hand, slugging Ethan in the jaw. A swirl of wind blew through the room, rather than extinguishing the multiple candles, they seemed to grow brighter as Ethan hit the floor. He swiped a hand across his bloodied mouth giggling as Giles took stock of each of the spell components laying out, including an old picture of the two of them together laughing with their arms around each other. Giles's eyes grew wide.

"You see now don't you? I've been telling the truth all along. I came back for you. Or rather my Ripper."

Panic filled Giles's heart as he tried to work out the best way to redirect the energy Ethan had raised without potentially killing them both. He cast a glance toward Ethan, none of this would be happening if he had just been willing to talk to him. And he might have been willing to talk to him if only he could trust him and he couldn't do that ever since Ethan let himself fall into the dark arts. There was too much history, too much magic, too much—far too much.

And then the answer hit him full force just as Spike came barreling in through the back door. "Giles!"

"In here!" Giles called out, raising a hand to stop him from coming into the room.

Spike let out a low growl as he took in the scene before him. Wind and sparks of energy continued to swirl around the room as Giles stood over the altar table, a half dressed Ethan sprawled on the floor grinning up at Giles.

"Spike! Stop! I need to contain and redirect the magic before it gets loose."

"Oh well sure, take your time then," Spike offered sarcastically.

Giles shoved Ethan out of the way when he tried to sit up.

"Always liked it when you took charge, but it's no use," Ethan purred, raising up on his elbows as Giles took a seat on the cushion.

"Shut your trap, ya slimy bastard. No one's talking to you!" Spike snapped at Ethan, taking a step into the room without crossing over the circle. "I swear, if you did anything to my girls, I'll-"

"Keep your pants on, Daddy. I couldn't get what I want if anything happened to your precious offspring," Ethan interrupted.

"What were you trying to do then?" Spike asked, pinning him to the spot with a threatening glare.

"Do you want to tell him or should I, Ripper?"

Giles didn't answer, but kept muttering under his breath, keeping his eyes closed in concentration. It was clear to him that the only way out of this was through, and maybe just maybe, he could help Ethan after all.

If he would just shut up.

Giles gripped the edge of the makeshift altar straining his entire body as he attempted to harness the magic around them. His nerve endings were alight with the power of it. The primal energies of untethered magic consuming him completely in an ecstasy he hadn't felt in years.

Since they had last been together.

He could feel movement next to him. Ethan's voice purring in his ear, "That's it, let it in. Feel the magic filling you and be mine once again. Just mine."

The words filled him with something undeniable. A desire to let go. To give into the magic and the rising passion filled his body as he felt Ethan's arm wrap around his waist, fingers grazing the fabric covering his stomach. He moved his hand instinctively to Ethan's, gripping him tightly.

A growl sounded from somewhere, ripping through his concentration.

And then all hell broke loose.

Several things seemed to happen at once. Spike had pushed into the circle and was attempting to wrench Ethan away from Giles. The swirling energies had become something like a small tornado within the confines of the room.

Giles held onto Ethan as he fell to the floor. He pushed Spike out of the way. So blinded with the power filling him that he barely realized he had thrown him into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster. There was no time if this was still going to work.

He took a deep breath, harnessing as much of the magical energy as he could, forming his intent in his mind. Kim's words "CAN YOU HELP HIM" suddenly filled him. And Giles felt more than heard the scream tear from his own throat as he straddled Ethan, pushed his palm, along with his intent, straight into Ethan's chest.

A fiery red glow formed under Giles's hand, spreading through Ethan's body, and through his limbs until he glowed like metal in a forge. Giles panted with strain as the red glow filled the room. Slowly the red seemed to fade out into white then extinguished completely, leaving the room in almost pitch darkness.

Giles slumped down over Ethan's unconscious form, utterly exhausted from the amount of magic he had used. Pain seared his body as he made a conscious effort to ground-out the magic, forcing it to drain out of him, into the floor and down into the earth beneath the house.

A groan from the corner of the room reminded him he wasn't alone with Ethan and he pushed himself up, sitting back on his haunches, head pounding. Giles clutched his skull. If the hangover Is the from earlier that morning had been bad then this was infinitely worse. He sat back breathing through it a moment before he could register the fact Spike had been trying to talk to him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking up at Spike dusting himself off. "What did you say?"

"Bloody hell," Spike groaned. "I asked you what the hell just happened?!"

Giles shook his head. "He was right, I couldn't stop it, so I had to shift the intent and redirect it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Spike asked, eyes landing on the half-destroyed altar and the picture lying there. "Think I caught enough to get the general picture, but—" Spike said, pulling himself up to stand. "Suppose I can see what Ghost Lady meant now."

Giles tilted his head down, massaging his temples and looked back up to Spike with a groan. "Go on then, let's get the judgment and ridicule out of the way, shall we?"

Spike strode toward him, sidestepping Ethan. He extended a hand down to pull him up. "Don't be daft. What do you want to do with your once and future lover over here?"

Giles took his proffered hand, letting Spike pull him up. "I don't know if I'd say future, not after—"

"Just stop, you'll only insult both of our intelligence by denying it. I'm assuming that bit at the end was supposed to be some sort of a fix-it something or other, yeah?"

Giles cleared his throat. "I could feel myself slipping— it was— tempting, to say the least…" he trailed off. "I didn't have much of a choice. I did the only thing I could think of— I eh, I forced the chaotic dark magic from both his physical and metaphysical bodies."

"Bloody hell…" Spike breathed. "No wonder he's out of it."

"Even so, I won't know if it worked until he wakes up." He glanced down at Ethan, taking a moment to process everything, and nodded. "I'm afraid there's a chance he might not wake up at all."

"You want to take him back to yours, sort it out later?"

Giles nodded numbly and watched as Spike heaved Ethan over his shoulder. Giles took up the offering bowl, unsure of what he was going to do with the contents but knowing he couldn't leave it there.

Once outside Spike shifted Ethan down off his shoulder, situating him between himself and Giles as though he'd simply had too much to drink, miraculously all without spilling the bowl. The three of them made their way like that toward Giles's car in the hospital parking lot. They shoved Ethan unceremoniously into the back seat and headed toward Giles's house.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Rupert," Spike said as Giles parked his car in the attached garage and closed the garage door. "We'll get him settled in. I'll go back to Buffy and the girls and send the witches over to check him out, yeah?"

Giles twisted around in his seat to look back at Ethan and gave a tight nod. "Yes of course. They might be able to help him— I- it's been quite a day."

"It's not over yet."

A/N: Just a little heads up that'll be taking a tiny hiatus on this fic until after the holidays as I'll be working on some special holiday treats. Stay tuned!