The Glitter Jungle:
Fiction:
 
 

Hurt/Comfort
Hurt. Comfort. Giles/Ethan
 

Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. I don't even want to look at you.

You can hit me, you can ignore me, you can even send someone else to do your dirty work and hurt me somehow. I don't care.

He's looking at me, hateful. I'm everything that is evil, everything that is wrong. I'm everything that is weak. He doesn't want anything to do with me.

He caught me in his town again. "His" town, like we're in some old western movie. The good, the bad, and...

I don't know why I'm here.

Oh, don't be so blind, Rayne. You know very well why you're here.

It's like picking a wound. Peel off the scab with your dirty fingernails and it's bleeding again, infected again, over and over and over. It won't heal this way, didn't your mother tell you?

I used to think he wants me as bad as I want him, but wouldn't let himself. I came to this town time and time again and got beat up and convinced myself of the existence of this imaginary gleam in his eye that says he loves me, and only hurts me because it's his way of dealing with it.

Gods, was I a fool.

Now that I opened my eyes, I see it as it is. Nothing written on his face but contempt. For what I was, for what I've become. For what I'm doing. I know it, and still I rented a roach-infested flat in a vampire-infested building in this literally hellhole of a city. And still I stare at his mouth when he talks to me, avoiding his eyes and the truth in them.

"Did you even hear what I said?"

"Hm?"

No, I didn't hear what you bloody said. I wasn't listening and I never listen, but I can pretty much quote it for you. You said something about causing trouble, get the hell out of Dodge, and possibly something nasty about being in bed with two vampires, both of whom are now dust. I take my pleasures where I find them, Watcher. None of your business.

"I said, this has gone too far. You're going home with me."

See? I knew it. Just like I said... what?

"What?"

"I've had it with you and your nonsense. This has to stop."

I stare at him, uncomprehending.

"You're coming home with me, now."

*Now* I'm looking in his eyes. I see anger. I see exasperation. I also see the famous, patented, Rupert "I'm going to fix everything" Giles look, and I don't know what that means. He's not going to kill me, I know that, but I'm not sure what he's capable of anymore. I can't be sure of...

"Get dressed, pack everything. And clean the blood before you go out."

I reach my hand to my neck, almost without thought. Yes, I let them bite me. There's blood on my neck, my thighs, and all over the bed. Not a *lot* of blood, now, I'm not stupid, but enough to draw unwanted attention. If I'm going outside in this town, I'll be better off not smelling like an easy snack. I get up from the bed and on my way to the shower before I stop and think about it.

"Why should I go with you?"

He stops and thinks it over, too. He seems to really contemplate it, and I'm waiting for him to come to his senses and realise he doesn't want me, but then he says, slowly, as if he's just reached an astounding new revelation: "Because you're mine," he says, "and it doesn't matter how many people you hurt or how many men, women, or vampires, you fuck."

Wow. Haven't heard him use words such as this in a long, long while. Or claim with such conviction ownership over anything, not to mention over anyone.

"But..." All I can think of is, "You don't want me."

Well, in the history of Ethan Rayne saying daft things, this ranks up there with the time I said "I love you" and with the time I said, "Sure, why not, let's go to France."

He walks until he's up and close in my personal space, so close the hairs on my body stand with the static. Then he pulls lightly on the small ring in my left nipple.

"I put it there, " he says, "many years ago."

I nod.

"And you didn't take it out," he adds. I look down at his hand touching my chest and the ownership jewelry and wonder to myself why, indeed, I haven't taken it off.

He pulls on the ring, tiny, rhythmic pulls that send pleasant warmth throughout my body. Then he says, "Get cleaned up and dressed before Buffy gets here."

That stops me cold in my tracks.

"What..." I start, not sure how to finish it. What will she say? What is she doing here? Are you screwing her? Well, I can't ask him that. Maybe later. Not now, when I feel like I'm looking up at him, even though we're about the same height.

He sighs, irritated again. "You really was not listening to anything I said, were you?" he says. I shrug, and try to look innocent and cute. It never works, though.

"I said," he accentuates, "that this building was vampire residence, and that we came here to make a sweep." He stops and glances at the bed. "And that's how I found you. In bed, " he takes a step forward, and I'm forced to move backwards, "with two vampires", he takes another step and I can feel the bed hitting the backs of my knees, "feasting on you." He stresses his point by sticking his finger in the middle of my chest. I lose balance and fall back on the mattress and guess who walks in the door at this very moment with a raised stake.

"Giles?" she's shocked. I think we broke the slayer. "What is this?"

"He's getting dressed, and then we're out of here." Either he's more oblivious than I thought, or he's ignoring her on purpose.

"What were you doing?" She won't let go that easily.

"What does it look like?" A blond vampire peering from behind Buffy. How sweet. And the wolf shall dwell with the lamb.

She looks around at the messy room and the filthy bed, and the naked me, and says, "It looks like sex." She's still shocked, and still holding that stake. I may not be a vampire, but I think she's not very reliable at this moment. And the stake scares me.

"There was sex," I interject quickly, "but Rupert wasn't a part of it." I smile charmingly. It never worked on her before, but it's all I have.

She's still looking around, stunned. "I don't see anyone else here."

I wonder why Rupert hadn't said anything yet, but then I realise he only now figured out what this must look like. For such a brilliant man, he can be so dense sometimes.

The vampire is already in the room, sniffing about. He turns to her and says, "There were vampires here." I look at him and he explains, "It smells different."

"What smells different?" she asks. We both stare at her. She crinkles her nose. "*Don't* tell me", she puts emphasis on every word.

Rupert shakes out of his momentary daze. "I... killed them." He stutters. "Um, staked. Staked them."

"More than one?" Buffy comments, "Wow."

I think she buys this. Oh, wait, it's the truth. Rupert really wasn't a part of the sex. Pity.

I pull the blanket around me, not so much for modesty as much as fear. "I'll go wash up," I say, retreating towards the shower. The bathroom door has a lock. They can solve this among themselves.

"I'll start packing." Rupert agrees.

"Where is he going?" Little blond girl asks. I find refuge in the bathroom, closing the door behind me so I miss Rupert's answer. I don't however miss the shriek of "What?!", and I don't think anyone in Sunnydale missed it as well. Seems like I'm really going home with a watcher. Tra la la.
 

[tbc]
 

Email