Part Fifteen

As soon as the door closed, Chloe, who was sitting on her bed, looked at Wilson. She remained quiet until he sat on a bed and rubbed his face tiredly. When he felt her gaze upon him, he looked up at her curiously, she asked, “Is Ethan going to give Wesley a hard time? Were he and Ethan, like boyfriends? Are they getting back together now? What’s he like? ‘Cause it’s kinda hard to see what Wesley sees in Ethan, other than his old-swinging-bachelor-I am-so-cool looks, you know what I mean?”

Wilson looked at the young girl, remembering and seeing another young person that had entered his life, a lanky, brown-haired boy with an ego the size of a continent on his shoulder, in desperate need of love, respect and attention. “Ethan is very complex person, Chloe. He’s seen too much and too much has happened to him while he was young.”

Deep in thought, Wilson walked briskly along the path to the Watchers’ Compound, towards the Appointment Room. Something was going on, the message that he had received from the school secretary had been very odd. He had been told that it was necessary that he meet with the Council immediately. He hoped that the meeting would not last very long, for he was supposed to be getting his place ready for Sharna, his untrained Slayer.

He looked at his pocket watch and sighed. Unfortunately, he had been delayed by the traffic. Eyeing the shrubs, he wondered if he jump over it and save a couple of minutes. Suddenly, a flash of light appeared, then a voice was heard.

Curious, Wilson crept over towards a particularly dense shrub. Parting some branches quietly, he saw the Rayne boy, Ethan, sitting cross-legged and in front of a circle. In the center of that circle was a small, half-used open vial of perfume that one would buy over the counter.

Sighing inwardly, Wilson wondered if Rayne were going to curse or afflict something on the Fletcher boy. Instead, Wilson watched as a cloud of smoke came forth from the vial and images formed.

“Now, young man, you know that this is a good move. It is good that you are here, with your grandfather and in this Watcher compound,” said the female figure. The woman was dressed in clothes that were considered quite fashionable several years ago and quite pretty. “They can give you so much more than I ever could.”

“But it’s even better for you, isn’t it, Mum,” sneered a young male voice, angry and defiant. From what Wilson could see, the young boy looked like Ethan when he was younger. “You leaving me here and you living the high life with that ponce of yours.”

“When are you going to understand that I am not going to live the high life with out you? Love, that ponce is the man responsible for giving me a respectable job. If he needs me to deliver a parcel for him, I will,” the woman said sharply. “Plus he’s not one to try and get under my knickers even though you think otherwise. He’s a gentleman and he treats me like a lady, not like the morning rubbish, Ethan.”

Wilson watched as he studied the mulish look on the young boy’s face, then looked at Ethan. His eyes widened as he realized what the woman called the young boy. [What the hell is going on?!? How does he have an affinity for magic at such a young age?!? And to call forth a memory!]

“Damn it, you think that this is easy for me? Knowing that I can’t keep you? Knowing that I’m no good for you?” demanded the woman. She shook the younger version of Ethan. “You are my son, my boy. And damn it, Ethan, I will have a better life for you. Something that I can’t give you at this moment.”

“Mum, I still don’t understand why you have to go away,” Ethan said sullenly. “Just because the old fart-“

“Ethan, you will not call your grandfather an old fart,” said Ethan’s mother with some amount of exasperation. “He is a man that was kind enough to take us in when he didn’t have to.”

Ethan snorted. “The old man only took us in because Grandmother made him and I’m his bastard grandson-ow!“

Wilson saw the young Ethan rub his ear as the older one touched the same ear. Ethan’s mother looked stern as she knelt to look eye to eye with her son. “Don’t you ever say that word! You are not a bastard. You are my son and don’t you forget that, young man. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ethan said sullenly. “But I still don’t-“

Ethan’s mother put her finger on her son’s lip. “You know why I really have to go on this trip, Ethan. The Watchers would not accept you completely if I were around and your grandfather would be much harder on you. You would have to work twice as hard to earn their respect because of me, and I will not have that. Do you understand?”

Young Ethan remained silent and his mother sighed before she kissed his brow. “You will do your studies, young man, and you will learn something from this Watcher compound of theirs. You will mind your grandmother and your teachers. No more playing around with magic unless you know how to control it, understand?”

“Yes, Mum,” young Ethan said dutifully. He smiled back when his mother smiled at him and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Mum.”

Wilson watched as Ethan’s mother gave him a smacking kiss. “And I love you, Ethan, totally and completely. You’ll always be my heart forever and ever. And when you find a girl that’ll steal your heart like your father did mine, I’ll make room for her too.”

“Girls,” Ethan grimaced fiercely as only a young boy under his preteen years could. “What good are they?”

Ethan’s mother gave him an amused smile. “I hope it takes you a few more years before you find out. Hey, you know what? I think that when we have enough money to do our own thing, we’ll get a place of our own and thumb our noses at the Watchers we don’t like.”

“Mum, I thought you told me that I had to mind my teachers,” Ethan said as he looked at her. “How can you thumb your nose at them and mind them at the same time?”

“It’s an art form that you’ll learn when you’re older. You can mind people, but you don’t have to like them, sort of like your relationship with your grandfather and grandmother,” Ethan’s mother said as she rose to primp up her hair, then sprayed some perfume on her wrists. “You mind your grandfather, but you don’t like him. You mind Grandmother but you like her. Now, I have to go, love, and I’ll be back at the end of the month. Hopefully, after a year or so we’ll have scads of money. Let’s be off now.”

The wind blew, and the images in the puff of smoke disappeared, leaving the older Ethan to stare at the bottle of perfume. Quietly, Wilson withdrew to leave the boy to his thoughts.

Two days later, Lucius Wilson sat at his desk staring at the information before him. Ethan Rayne was the illegitimate grandson of High Councilor Sebastian Thompson and Lady Arabella Spencer-Thompson.

Ten years ago, Lady Arabella and High Councilor’s only heir, Edward, got himself involved with Ethan’s mother, Felicia Rayne. The lovely, young woman had been a part-time student worker for the History Department in Oxford. From several accounts, while teaching a special medical-history class in Oxford, Spencer-Thompson had become quite intimate with Felicia until his untimely death. Several of the old rumors reported that the couple was on the verge of an elopement due to the objections from the High Councilor.

Within the year after Spencer-Thompson’s death, Felicia Rayne had been dismissed and had resurfaced when Ethan was seven years old. She had brought the boy to his paternal grandfather’s attention only after he accidentally called up a water demon. Two days after the woman had returned from her business trip, she died in a hit-and-run car accident. The driver was never found.

Wilson looked at Chloe and repeated, ”Ethan is a very complex man and his story is not for me to tell.”

Chloe frowned at this. “Okay, I can understand that, but I still don’t like it. And how am I supposed to know if he’d be good for Wesley or not?”

“The true question you need to ask is this: Does Ethan think that he’s good enough for Wesley?” Wilson countered as he looked at Chloe. “In any case, Ethan knows that if he wants to stay with Wesley, he must accept you, Chloe. You will always be a part of Wesley’s life, and that will never change. Ethan knows that. Now, lie down and sleep, girl. We have much to research tomorrow.”

Obeying him, Chloe lay down on her bed and thought about what Wilson said. “But knowing and accepting are two different things, Mr. Wilson.”

“Yes, they are,” Wilson said gently as he went over and tucked her in with his remaining appendage. Without thinking, he kissed her forehead. “Good night and happy dreams to you, Chloe. What’s wrong?”

Chloe looked at him with wide green eyes. “Michael never kissed me good-night. Does this mean that if Ethan and Wesley get together you’re gonna be my surrogate grandpa?”

“Well, let’s wait to hear what the two have decided before we decide anything,” Wilson said practically. He held up his hand as Chloe was about to protest. “We’ll talk about it in the morning, now go to sleep.”

“But if Ethan and Wesley get together, does that mean Ethan’s gonna be acting like a mom for me?” Chloe demanded with narrow eyes as a thought hit her. “It’ll really be weird ‘cause I can’t really see him in an apron and making me brownies after I get back from slaying. And I really can’t see him trying to be a mom for me ‘cause I really don’t see him doing my hair-”

“Now, Chloe, I told you, go to sleep,” Wilson said evenly as he pinched her nose. “There’s no use to think about that until we hear what Ethan and Wesley have decided. Sleep. Ah-ah! No more talking, young lady, we much to do tomorrow. Now sleep.”

“Fine,” Chloe grumbled as she buried herself into her pillow. “But if Buffy can have a family and friends, why can’t I?”

Wilson was proud of himself when he prevented himself from rolling his eyes at Chloe’s single mindedness. Ignoring the question and her petulant tone, he went over to his bed, lifted the covers and slip between the blankets. When he saw Chloe’s head lift up again, Wilson lifted his eyebrow at her and pointed down to her pillow. “Head down and go to sleep, Chloe. Now.”

Chloe shoved her head down again. “Good night. But I still don’t think that it’s fair that-”

“Good night, Chloe,” Wilson said as he clicked off the lamp light. He heard Chloe make a small sound of frustration, then the small room fell blissfully silent. He snorted in amusement as the sudden image of Ethan wearing a pink apron while braiding Chloe’s hair came into mind. He smiled as he thought about having a small family to care about after all the lonely years. [It would be interesting.]

With Ethan right behind him, Wesley walked quickly into the library as fast as he could. Then stopped only because he reached the fall wall of the library. With rueful amusement, he noted that the urge to go through the wall and beyond was quite strong. He did not fail to notice that he would rather, at this moment, face a hundred Bhavikan assassins instead of Ethan.

Wesley knew that he wanted this conversation, that he needed this conversation with Ethan. But as much as he wanted and needed this conversation to take place, he had dreaded its coming. He clasped his hands together as he tried to think rationally. Again with rueful amusement, he momentarily reflected on his topsy-turvy emotions. “Oh, bloody hell.”

Ethan quietly shut the door as he followed Wesley into the library. An uncharacteristic quietness filled him as he watched Wesley walk over to the bookcase. With his own brand of rueful amusement, he noted that his own scathing and wayward tongue kept still for once and forced him to momentarily reflect on his own topsy-turvy emotions.

Since his break up with Wesley more than a year ago, he buried himself into his worship of Chaos. He planned and executed plans to bring the Watcher Network down, but he could call none of those plans an undeniable success. Since Ripper picked him up this afternoon, Ethan had to look back at this past year and admit to himself that since Wesley left him, there wasn’t much of the same old hatred and passionate calling for the destruction of the Watcher network.

It was still there, but it wasn’t just as fiery and consuming, like it had been twenty years ago or like it still was for the Bhavikans. In fact, since this afternoon, Ethan was quite surprised to find that though he was more than willing to participate to help avenge Sharna, he was not willing to do so at the cost of Wesley or Wilson’s life. And Ripper’s, if he were to be honest with himself.

In fact, to be uncomfortably honest, he was just content to cast a few nasty spells to make life uncomfortable or unbearable for Travers and the others. Ethan snorted at himself. [I must be growing old, I’d rather have Travers and the others have a long life and suffer rather than have them die off immediately.]

With uncharacteristic hesitation, Ethan wondered what to say when he heard Wesley say something. “Pardon?”

“I said, ‘Oh, bloody hell’,” Wesley said as he turned around to face Ethan, his mouth twisted up wryly. “A term that I seemed to have picked up from you, among other things.”

Not sure of what to say, Ethan blinked as he looked at Wesley. “I didn’t know that I was that much of an influence on you.”

“You always had a lot of influence on me,” Wesley said quietly, his brown eyes intense as he looked at his former lover, then looked away. “But you never liked it whenever I thought for myself. Or whenever I went against your wishes.”

[Ah, the opening gambit] Ethan thought as he looked at Wesley evenly. “I really don’t know what you want me to say. Did you want me to say that I wasn’t angry and hurt that you’d accepted Travers and your grandfather’s decision about sending you away? That I was absolutely thrilled that you were going to Sunnydale to become a Watcher for the Slayer? Is that what you wanted me to say?”

“How about that you saying that you wanted to go with me? That I mattered more to you than your blasted revenge on Travers and the Council?” Wesley demanded as he looked at Ethan hotly. “That I mattered more to you more than Sharna did. But you never said any of those things; you just wanted to keep your secrets, your plots for revenge and Sharna deep inside your heart where no one could touch you.”

Feeling the blood drain from his face, Ethan stared at Wesley. “Sharna-I don’t discuss Sharna with anyone-“

“That’s quite obvious,” Wesley retorted stiffly. “I realize now that you refused to share a great many things with me. In fact, while watching Giles and Buffy’s mother interact with each other, I noticed quite a few things that were…lacking in our relationship, Ethan. You refused to share much of your past with me, kept almost everything about yourself in a secret room…such as your relationship with Giles.”

“What of my relationship with him?” Ethan asked stiffly. “You do not need to know anything about our past, Wesley. He-“

“He was your lover,” Wesley said as he looked at Ethan. His lips tightened as he felt that he was about to heave everything that he had eaten the last six hours. “How do you think it made me feel when I heard that, Ethan?”

“How-you-“ Ethan took a deep breath. “I didn’t know that you and Ripper compared notes about me.”

“We didn’t. In fact until today, I didn’t even know that you and Giles had a past, but thinking about it, I should have known. You had a wistful look on your face when we last talked,” Wesley said stiffly as he shook off the memory. “Another glowing example of a secret you refused to share with me.”

“I told you that had been in a few relationships, Wesley,” Ethan said coolly as a small gnawing sense of guilt started to bite at him. He tried to get the stiffness out of his jaw, but to no avail. “I had no reason to mention their names, any information on them and their whereabouts to you or to anyone.”

“Because I wasn’t important enough to you,” Wesley shot at him as a pang of disappointment went through him.

“Because I don’t ever kiss and tell,” Ethan shot back. He looked at Wesley angrily. “Whomever I am with, I don’t tell names of my past discretions, not to you, not to Ripper, not to anyone. My past is my own and no one else’s, Wesley.”

“Except that your past seems to be colliding with everyone’s life future, Ethan,” Wesley retorted. His fists clenched as he looked at Ethan. “There are Watchers that died-“

“As if I care about them!” Ethan snorted as he looked at Wesley coolly. “I care nothing about the Watchers Network and I refuse to help them, Tiger. Not even for you, I will not help them even if they were broken and bleeding at my feet. For all I care, they can go to Hell in a hand basket and rot there for all eternity and back.”

“Because of what they did to Sharna and Wilson,” Wesley said as he looked at Ethan, who face was expressionless. “You hate them because they Passed her for being a Bhavikan, and not a human, didn’t they?”

“If that’s your answer then who am I to say that you’re wrong?” Ethan said as he turned away from Wesley.

Wesley stared at Ethan’s back as the wheels started to turn in his mind. “It’s more than that, wasn’t it Ethan? Sharna, you cared for her. And from what Achala said, I gather that she obviously cared for you, enough to make her give you a place of honor among her people.“

Ethan made no answer, but Wesley continued ruthlessly on. “Lucius Wilson, you cared about him, you had a father-son relationship with him. And he disappeared the night that Sharna died, you never saw him again until today. You’re angry because you believe the Watchers took them away from you.”

“Pop psychology, Wesley,” Ethan snorted as he turned to look at Wesley derisively. “I’d never have believed it of you. I suppose all that studying in psychology has been paid off.”

Ignoring Ethan’s dig, Wesley ran his fingers through his hair. “Things have changed, Ethan. Back then they killed her out of fear and prejudice, Ethan, because they didn’t know better. But it’s wrong to condemn the whole Network for what they did to Sharna-“

“And that is where we differ, Tiger,” Ethan said in dulcet tones. “You think it’s wrong to destroy the network, to kill all the Watchers. I don’t. You say that they changed, well, then, if they changed so much, then why did Travers tell you to kill Faith? Was possible that little comatose Faith a danger to them? Or was she merely a symbol of their failure? Watchers kill young girls every generation, Wesley. But it’s not only young girls, Wesley. It’s anybody and everybody that gets in their way, good or evil, that the network kills. They’re all a bunch of murderers, with Travers and his lackeys spearheading the way. So if the Bhavikans wish to kill off the entire network, let them.”

“So you would condemn the whole lot of us to death,” Wesley demanded with narrow eyes. “You’d kill innocents just so you’d have your revenge for Sharna and Wilson? Condemn them to Hell as well simply because they mistakenly followed Travers and his cronies?”

“Forward, forward, ay and backward, downward into the abysm,” Ethan replied with a cold smile.

“Don’t you dare quote Tennyson to me,” Wesley said through gritted teeth. Rage filled Wesley as his hand itched to slap the cold look on Ethan’s face. “I won’t have it.”

”I’ll quote whomever I think is appropriate,” Ethan said coldly. “But if you want a different one, how’s this for the Watchers that followed Travers: ‘Theirs is not to question why, merely to do and die.’ How about that?”

“You’re not helping matters, Ethan,” Wesley said through gritted teeth. “You and Wilson have the ability to stop the Bhavikans, but you won’t help. Why? If Wilson is willing to stop the killing, why aren’t you? I would think that Sharna wouldn’t want her people to kill innocents-“

“Don’t you dare presume what Sharna wants or doesn’t want,” Ethan snarled at him. “You think that you know everything, Wesley. You with all your musty tomes and research, you just think that you can find all the answers, just at the snap of your fingers. Well, you can’t find everything; Wesley and you can’t fix everything just because it doesn’t fit with your worldview. And if you force it to be all neat and tidy, you’re no better than Travers’s lackey.”

“I don’t want to fix the world, I just want to stop the killing,” Wesley said hotly as he glared at Ethan. “And if you’re not here to stop the assassins, then why are you here?”

“To stop you from being killed, you silly twit!” Ethan roared back.

Silence filled the room as Wesley stared, slack-jawed at Ethan. The older man looked back at him, looking furious, embarrassed and defiant. “I came to stop you from getting killed by the Bhavikans, something that would have very likely to happened, sooner or later. It was only a matter of time before they’d tire you out, so much that you’d wish they’d just kill you and be done with it.”

When Wesley stood there, still staring at him and saying nothing, Ethan looked at the sofa bed, then started to grab a pillow and a couple of blankets. “Listen, I’ll sleep on Ripper’s sofa in the living room. You-you just sleep here, good night, Wes.”