What there is left of 'Sunblind' Giles/Ethan, Angel/Wesley/Spike

[janedavitt]

I just had feedback on Snowbound/Sunblind which, as those of you who can remember that far back will know, was a Regency romp that I started in January 2004, during Regency Week, which was followed by Spanking Week which explains this fic more than adequately ;-)

I abandoned it mid-story; Secretary was taking all my time and I just lost the thread. It's not ever going to be finished, something I've only done with two other stories out of 400. Those three prey on my mind but what can you do?

There was a bit I don't think I ever posted on LJ, although it's on my web page, and a final snippet that's never been posted at all (I think; not going to spend hours searching for it, anyway...)

So, for the sake of completeness, here are those two bits for anyone interested and that's, sadly, it.

If you want to know how I'd planned it to end, the amulet/necklace contained a trapped, malevolent spirit which tried to persuade Ethan and Giles to release it with the bribe of letting them go back and relive the decision that split them up so many years before, with knowledge of the future to guide them. Ethan's all for it; Giles realises that it would mean he'd never meet Wesley and that Wesley, Angel and Spike would probably be dead without his help. Ethan's initially furious that Giles would put Wesley over him but when it comes down to it, can't go through with it either.

Except it wouldn't have been quite that black and white and I've missed out all the smut :-)



Previous parts are here



Chapter Seven

Wesley went to his room to retrieve a book Giles had lent him some months earlier that he had promised faithfully to return and made his way back to his lovers. His entrance had Angel and William moving apart hurriedly, but as they were still dressed and had been doing no more than kiss, they were not overly flustered.

“Our hosts?” Angel asked, his gaze travelling past Wesley to the empty doorway.

“They needed to be alone to conduct an experiment,” Wesley said, glaring at William whose eyebrows had risen in an unmistakably meaningful fashion at his words, his lips twitching in a smile. “The medallion is magical in nature and seems to behave differently when I am present.”

“Oh, spare me,” Angel said, stretching out booted feet and yawning widely before rising to replenish his glass. “Giles and you are as tedious as William here once you’re riding your hobby-horse.”

“’Tis not tedious!” Wesley protested. “I cannot see why you think it so.”

“I’ve had my fill of magic,” Angel said bluntly. “It brings naught but trouble and pain to all concerned.”

“If used wisely –” Wesley began, only to be interrupted by William who stood suddenly, his face concerned.

“Did you hear that?” he demanded. He met their astonished glances and shook his head impatiently. “Something is amiss – I feel it. Wesley, this experiment; did it involve anything dangerous?”

Wesley turned and began to walk quickly, heading back to the study with the others close on his heels. “No; merely an examination of the object. I’m sure Giles would not have attempted anything of that nature without telling me.”

He tapped gently on the study door and when he received no answer pushed it open. The sight of the two bodies on the floor brought a cry from his lips but even as it was voiced he was rushing forward.

“No!” Angel said, long strides bringing him close enough to catch at Wesley’s arm. “Do not touch them!”

“I must!” Wesley said distractedly, trying to free himself from Angel’s strong grip. “Leave go!”

William appeared at Wesley’s other side, his hands preventing Wesley’s escape. “No, love. Don’t rush in. Use your eyes.”

Wesley took one deep, shuddering breath and forced himself to calm down. “They’re still alive,” he noted, trying to be dispassionate. “I can see that they breathe and there are no marks of violence on them.”

“But they look –” Angel swallowed. “They look as though they suffer.”

"The medallion," William said urgently. "See how they both hold it-" Taking a handkerchief from his pocket he swathed his hand in it and before Angel could do more than utter an inarticulate protest, encumbered as he was by Wesley, William had tugged the medallion free of Ethan and Giles' grip, dropping it a second later with no apparent ill-effects.

"I will take the hide off you," Angel swore, striding over to William and giving him a sharp shake before kissing him hard. "Fool."

Wesley had fallen to his knees beside the two who even now began to stir. "Giles?" he said. "Giles..."

"Thank you," Ethan said tartly, opening his eyes. "I'm perfectly well."

"Oh, I did not mean –" Wesley flushed and then recovered his dignity. "We found you both like this. What occurred?"

"The medallion," Giles said, struggling to sit and accepting Wesley's help with a weak, but grateful smile. "God, my head!"

Angel walked over and extended a hand to Ethan who eyed it and then allowed himself to be assisted to his feet. "Thank you."

Giles stood also, exchanging a concerned look with Ethan and going to a chair, collapsing into it.

"When I took it from you, whatever hold it had was broken," William said. "Think you it is safe now?"

"You did not touch it?" Ethan asked quickly.

William shook his head. "Not directly."

"Do not," Giles said. He nodded at it. "It has been brought to life again and answers only to us, I fear."

"You speak of it as though it were alive," Angel objected. "'Tis but a trinket."

"It is a prison," Ethan said. All eyes turned to him and he met the gazes with a frown. "And the being who lies entrapped within is alive – in a manner of speaking."

Wesley cleared his throat. "You – a prison?" He turned to Giles, unwilling to name Ethan delusional but finding his claim a trifle fantastical.

Giles shrugged. "As good a name as any. The... being has been captured, his essence – his soul, if you will – held here on this plane."

"Why?" Angel asked bluntly.

"And by whom?" William added.

"Good questions," Ethan drawled. "Would that we had answers for you, but we do not." Giles stirred and Wesley watched Ethan's eyes narrow in what was surely a warning. "We are poor hosts I know, but you must be tired yourselves; would you forgive us if we retired?"

Giles stood at once. "I think that would be best," he said.

"You are keeping something from us," Angel said. He did not commit the solecism of blocking Ethan's path to the door and yet he seemed formidable to Wesley's eyes of a sudden.

"Clever boy," Ethan murmured, passing a hand that shook slightly – through genuine weariness or affectation, Wesley could not determine – across his eyes. "Yes, we are. Forgive us also our poor acting skills."

"Angel," Giles said, walking to him and laying a reassuring hand on his arm. "Let us sleep on this. Tomorrow we shall share with you what we know, but I fear it would be but a farrago of nonsense were we to attempt the telling tonight."

He took Ethan's arm, and when Wesley smiled at him anxiously, he got no more than a warm smile in return and then the door closed.

"Well," William remarked, "I'd not say no to an early night myself."

Angel shook his head. "Not yet. I want to look at this medallion – from a distance."

"Good luck with that, "William answered, staring at the patch of carpet where it had lain, bare of aught but dust.

"Ethan took it," Wesley said quietly. "I saw him."

"And it didn't hurt him?" William said, half to himself. "Strange."

"It is all strange!" Wesley said passionately. "I had thought this over; that we were come into peace after all that has befallen us."

Angel and William exchanged glances. "To bed," they said as one, drawing him close for an embrace that left Wesley's spirits soothed somewhat.

"And we can always leave come morning," William said. "A dying aunt, a forgotten invitation..."

Wesley stiffened. "Leave Giles when he needs me – us?" He shook his head. "I would die rather."

Angel glared at him. "If it comes to that, Wesley, if you endanger yourself thusly, you'll wish you had. And you have my word on it."

He stalked towards the door, leaving William to whistle softly. "He means it, you know," he told Wesley. "I'd watch your step, were I you, love."

"I'll not fail Giles," Wesley told him.

He got a curious look from the blue eyes so different from his own. "I'm not sure my muse favours Homeric epics, Wesley. I can immortalise a tryst 'twixt you and Angel and have the angels weeping at the beauty of it, but a fight?" He shuddered. "No. Little rhymes with 'blood' and 'guts'."

"Oh, have done with your versifying!" Wesley snapped and followed Angel to bed.


*****

Chapter Eight

"You were less than open with them, were you not?"

Ethan lay back against the pillows and stared at Rupert from underneath lowered lashes. "A trifle," he allowed. "And you were equally discreet, for which I thank you." He smiled slowly. "Come here, my dear Rupert, and I'll render my gratitude in a more tangible fashion."

Rupert extinguished the candles on the table, leaving the room lit only by the one beside the bed. "I feel far from amorous, love."

"I see."

Ethan tried to keep his voice neutral but the quick glance he received showed how far short he had fallen.

"Ethan –"

"Am I permitted to hold you? If I promise not to let my thoughts – or hands – stray?" Ethan asked, not even trying to keep his irritation from showing now.

Rupert sighed and moved closer, coming into Ethan's waiting arms without thought, his body curving around Ethan's so that their arms and legs entwined. "We cannot sleep without conversing but I had thought we would be discussing what befell us in your study. Why do I feel instead that you wish to express your reservations about Wesley?"

"Because you know me?" Ethan said with a sigh of his own, relaxing a little and stroking his hand down Rupert's face. "Very well. I will set aside my concerns, and my plans to distract you from this plight in which we find ourselves, and we shall talk."

Rupert smiled at him. "You are distracting me now," he murmured, shifting slightly. "As I might have known you would."

"'Tis easy enough," Ethan said. "I have but to let my hand move here... ah, ah, no!"

He found himself on his back with Rupert straddling him. "You no longer have the use of your clever, knowing hands, my love," he said. "What will you do now?"

Ethan relaxed, not struggling against the strong hands that gripped his wrists and held them by his side. "You think me powerless?" he asked curiously. "When I still can speak?"

A mouth he'd dreamed of for years came to rest against his own in a warm kiss. "I could forbid you speech."

"No," Ethan said, with a certain hauteur. "You could rob me of it, perhaps, but no more than that."

Rupert sighed, releasing him and sitting back a little. "Ever the lord," he complained. "Your stiff neck bends to no man, is that not so?"

"Well, on occasion, I'll allow it to..." Ethan said meaningfully. "But I'll not allow you to dictate my words, my very dear Rupert, and I'll not keep silent when that boy –"

"Ethan!"

Rupert's exasperated voice had no effect on Ethan. None, he told himself fiercely.