They both got up and went over toward the bed. On the same side of the bed he'd slept on the night before, Ethan hesitated.

"Do we lie down with our clothes on and pretend there's a chance we might keep them on? Or are we just honest from the beginning and take them off now?" It was a light-hearted question, but Ethan felt as if he was asking a more serious one.

Rupert hesitated and then walked around the bed to him. Without speaking he started to unbutton Ethan's shirt, his eyes locked on Ethan's face. On the third button, he paused, slid a hand behind Ethan's neck, and brought their mouths together in a kiss that obliterated the last twenty minutes of talking and took them back to how they'd been when they walked through the door, too aroused to even make it as far as the bed.

There was a small sound like someone whimpering, and Ethan's hands caught in Rupert's shirt and held on as the kiss drew itself out, Rupert's lips teasing his so gently that he felt shaken. It was a completely different kind of kiss, reminiscent of a few times, years ago, when there'd been moments Ethan had believed Rupert loved him.

The kiss ended, and Rupert allowed Ethan to pull back a bit. Ethan lifted a hand that, he told himself very sternly, did not tremble, and rested it on Rupert's chest, blinking at him with wide eyes.

"We might as well be honest," Rupert told him. "Because there's no point in pretending I don't want you." With his hand still around Ethan's neck, he went back to unfastening the buttons on Ethan's shirt, his mouth warm against Ethan's face and throat, kissing him gently, but with a rising urgency until the final button was undone, drawing more sounds from Ethan that he couldn't help but make.

Everything about this was gentle; knowing, but gentle as if Rupert were aware that this meant a great deal and was trying to convince Ethan of it as well. And Ethan, little as he wanted this to be meaningful, couldn't quite manage to sort out how to keep it casual. There was some part of him that yearned for it to be about more than just a quick fuck. Rupert's hands eased Ethan's shirt off, letting it fall to the floor, Rupert's mouth sliding down across Ethan's collar bone in a wet, stuttering path than mimicked Ethan's shaky breathing. "Rupert..." He couldn't say more than that.

Rupert gave him a quick glance as if to reassure himself that Ethan wasn't telling him to stop, smiled, and reached down to deal with Ethan's belt, managing to ease it open one-handed. His other hand was moving over Ethan's back in long, sweeping caresses, his fingernails dragging against Ethan's skin with just enough force not to tickle, not enough to hurt. It made Ethan feel like the cat at the pub must have felt; he wanted to arch into that touch, to writhe and beg for more, for it not to stop.

It wasn't that Rupert hadn't undressed him before, of course. But what Ethan remembered was fevered, eager kisses and the clothes being nearly, and sometimes actually, torn from him. They'd had a tendency to fall down onto the floor and fuck right there, shouting out their release minutes after Ripper had pushed that hard cock into him.

This was different. It made Ethan feel as if his skin was being peeled off along with his clothing, leaving him raw, open, nerve endings screaming. He whimpered and tugged at Rupert's shirt as his zipper was slid down one notch at a time, the pressure over his cock almost unbearable.

"Stop that." Rupert whispered, bending his head and placing the first of three biting, sucking kisses along Ethan's shoulder, ending with a snatched nip of his teeth at Ethan's earlobe, still managing to make each touch unhurried and deliberate, although he was pressing his body against Ethan's with an eagerness that betrayed him.

"Stop what?" Ethan managed, tilting his head automatically so that Rupert could drag sharp teeth along the side of his neck.

"Trying to rush me," Rupert replied, doing just that, sending a shiver through Ethan as his body responded in the most primitive of ways to teeth so close to his throat. Rupert ended the slow, downward tug on the zip and flicked the button open before sliding his hand across Ethan's stomach, just above the waistband of his shorts, making him draw in a sharp breath.

Ethan closed his eyes as Rupert leant in to kiss him again, catching his lips with a soft determination that made it clear Rupert wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. That, of course, just made Ethan harder and more desperate. "I can't imagine how I ever gave you the idea I was capable of being patient," Ethan said, trying to hang onto the fragmenting remains of his detachment.

"I can't imagine why you think that's relevant," Rupert said, with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I'm not giving you a choice, you know." His hand, fingers spread wide, travelled up across Ethan's chest, though the soft, light drift of hair, finding a nipple and pinching it just hard enough leave Ethan's cock throbbing in sympathy. "And sadly, I'm not feeling as persuadable as I was an hour ago, for which you've only got yourself to blame." His hand went back to where it had been, scant inches away from Ethan's aching cock. "Did I say thank you for that, by the way?"

"I think we got a bit too wrapped up in arguing," Ethan said, sliding his own hand up underneath Rupert's untucked shirt in the back and touching bare skin as a grateful distraction to what was being done to him.

He was gratified by the way that had Rupert's jaw tightening as he bit back a soft sound of pleasure. "You're probably right." Rupert hooked his fingers inside the waistband of Ethan's shorts and moved them across until his fingertips brushed against the head of Ethan's cock, lingering there, stroking through the small pool of wetness gathering at the tip with a maddeningly light touch. "Thank you, Ethan."

"Believe me," Ethan said, his breathing coming a bit more quickly now as Rupert's fingers teased him, "the pleasure was all mine." He didn't think Rupert wanted him to beg, but he wondered if he ought to give it a try just in case. "Please..."

Rupert's hand moved away again, which really wasn't the result he'd been hoping for although watching Rupert lick his fingers clean, his eyes on Ethan as his tongue lapped thoughtfully at the glisten of precome, was a good consolation prize.

"Please what?" Rupert asked, stepping back and starting to unbutton his own shirt. "Please hurry? Aren't you enjoying this?"

He'd forgotten this teasing, playful mood of Rupert's, and he didn't think he'd ever learned a way to deal with it that got him fucked quickly rather than left frustrated for far too long.

"I'd be enjoying it more if I weren't so convinced that you'd be perfectly happy to continue all day, night, and into tomorrow without increasing the pace." Ethan reached out to help Rupert undo his shirt, unsure if he'd be allowed, and was a bit surprised when Rupert didn't comment, just let him unbutton from the bottom up. As the shirt slipped from Rupert's left shoulder, Ethan moved half a step closer and pressed his lips to the bare skin there, tasting it, inhaling Rupert's scent. It made him feel nearly giddy.

"I think you're overestimating my self-control," Rupert said, sounding a little breathless himself as he shrugged out of his shirt, moving carefully so that Ethan could carry on kissing him. "Which is weakening rapidly, I'm sorry to say."

"Does that mean you're going to fuck me?" Ethan asked, paying particular attention to the little hollow of skin beside Rupert's throat

"I was always going to do that," Rupert said, sounding nicely distracted. "Just a matter of when –" He took a deep breath as Ethan continued his exploration of Rupert's skin. "You're entirely too good at this. Stop while I just –" He moved back and kicked off his shoes and then got out of what was left of his clothes, with Ethan following his example.

With a gloriously nude Rupert standing in front of him, Ethan found himself suddenly unable to do much more than stare appreciatively, drinking in the sight of the man. If anything, Rupert was more beautiful than he'd been when he was younger, and Ethan ached for him but felt strangely hesitant now that things were progressed to this point.

"You're looking at me as if you've changed your mind about the need to rush," Rupert said. He looked a little unsure himself, Ethan noticed. "If you're about to tell me that in daylight I've lost my appeal, I won't be able to say the same about you." He stepped forward, brushing his hand down Ethan's arm. "Ethan – let me – please –"

Ethan swallowed, grateful for the renewed contact between them, reaching to smooth his own hand over Rupert's hip as their eyes met. "You don't need to ask. You can do anything."

"Apart from make you wait?" Rupert said, his lips curving in a smile as he relaxed again and placed his hand in the small of Ethan's back, pulling them closer together so that Ethan's cock lay in the hollow of Rupert's hip, even that small stimulus making him feel a tingle of arousal. "And what I want to do is fuck you –" Rupert's forehead creased with sudden concern. "Except we still can't. Damn."

Ethan knew exactly what Rupert was talking about. He also knew that the solution lay in a small packet at the bottom of his bag that contained not only condoms but lubricant as well. What he didn't know was how Rupert would react to being told that these things were staples that he took everywhere with him, 'just in case.' The last thing he wanted just now, with Rupert's warm bare skin rubbing against his own, was to set off another round of accusations and non-apologies.

Trying to decide what to do, Ethan slid both hands slowly down Rupert's back and over his arse, grabbing hold. "Now, now. Don't fuss. We'll think of something, won't we? We always have."

"I'm not going on a search through cupboards to find something vaguely slippery," Rupert replied, sounding just the smallest bit petulant, which made Ethan smile. It was nice to be wanted, and even nicer to have Rupert the one doing the wanting. Then Rupert tilted his hips so that his cock rubbed against Ethan's stomach, hard and hot and promising, and Ethan stopped smiling, gritting his teeth as he rode out a surge of uncomplicated lust. It was all right for Ripper, he thought, feeling a little aggrieved. He'd already come once, after all.

Bugger it. Ethan wanted Rupert to fuck him, and if admitting that he had the means available made Rupert angry, so much the better. He'd always liked it rough.

"If I'm not mistaken, there's lube in my bag," he said, turning away with some reluctance, well aware that he was giving Rupert a clear view of his naked arse as he bent over and rummaged through said bag. "Condoms, too, if you feel the need. I've found it pays to be prepared. I'd have missed out on quite a lot of fun recently if I hadn't been." He was equally aware that he sounded casual, unconcerned.

His hand closed around the lube and he straightened, but never got the chance to turn around. Rupert was there, right behind him, one hand reaching around to prise the small bottle from Ethan's grip, the other wrapping around Ethan's body, pulling him backwards so that his arse was snug against Rupert's cock.

"Don't move," Rupert said very clearly into his ear. "And don't say another bloody word if you want this in you." He bit down on Ethan's shoulder, making it hurt this time, bringing his hand down to give Ethan's cock a rough, casual caress, flicking his thumb over the tip. "Is this what you want?" he asked. "Is this what you expect when you make these... preparations?" His hand started to work Ethan's cock in slow, tight strokes. "Ask me to fuck you, Ethan."

Ethan groaned, pressing his arse back against Rupert's cock and then forward again into the tight grip of his hand. "Fuck me," he gasped, frantic for more and willing to do whatever it took to get it. "Please, Ripper."

Rupert gave Ethan's cock one final pump and released it, stepping back. "You've used quite a lot of this, Ethan," he said in a conversational voice, the small click of the bottle lid opening very clear in the silence. Ethan didn't answer. He'd give Rupert that much obedience for now. Rebellions could be amusing, but he'd learned how to time them, and Rupert didn't seem to need a helpful push at the moment. "Still plenty left though."

The cool drizzle of lube against his arse was sudden enough to make him gasp, but he managed to stay quiet, his hands itching to touch Rupert, his cock jerking with every breath. Then Rupert's fingers scooped up the trickle of liquid running down his arse and worked it into his opening, hand spreading him wide as what felt like Rupert's middle finger pushed into him without the slightest hesitation or fumbling.

Ethan groaned as Rupert slid his finger deeper, arching his back for more. His skin felt too tight, too hot as if it might split open if he didn't get to come. At that thought, his cock gave a tremendous jolt, a thin slick of precome wetting the tip.

Before Ethan could blink, Rupert's other hand come around and clamped onto the base of his cock. "Oh, no," Rupert said, tightening his grip so that there was no possible way Ethan could find release. "I don't think so."

Squirming, Ethan complained, "You're not playing fair."

"I'm not playing." There was nothing in Rupert's voice to contradict that, and it was said with an indifference that made it work better as a threat than anger would have. "If you come before I'm in you, I won't be happy, Ethan," Rupert warned. "There's impatience, and there's lack of control. One's forgivable. The other isn't."

He withdrew his finger until only the tip was inside and then said softly, "Let's try that again, shall we?" before pushing it back in, a fast, hard jab that tore a harsh cry from Ethan because it was both too much and not enough.

Ethan was grateful for Rupert's hand on his cock then because if it hadn't been there, it was entirely possible that he would have come. Or if not then, a moment later, when Rupert withdrew and thrust his finger in again. It was torture – amazing, spectacular torture, and Ethan loved every moment of it. "Ripper... God, yes."

Rupert gave the back of his neck an open-mouthed kiss, the flick of his tongue setting off a shiver that raised every hair on Ethan's body. "I want you on the bed now, Ethan. When I let go of you, do try and remember that you're not to come just yet." The promise implicit in the words was enough to send another of the dangerously arousing shivers over him. Then Rupert murmured, "Hands and knees, please, Ethan," and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to block out the memories and the expectation of what was to come.

He obeyed without a word, the only thing slowing him down the fact that his legs were a bit shaky. He knew his stamina was nothing like it had been when he was younger – he just wasn't physically capable, not with the way things had been – but he was determined to do everything he could to make this count.

As far as he knew, there wouldn't be another chance.

On his hands and knees on the bed, his cock painfully hard between his legs, Ethan waited.

And if he'd ever wanted proof that Rupert didn't hate him – and he had wanted that, he'd prayed for it but not to any God that would care – he got it when Rupert left him like that for a bare, split second, long enough to look at him, long enough to have a picture to keep, but not long enough to matter.

And then Rupert's hands were on him, impatient, wanting hands, running over him from shoulders to hips and Rupert's cock, slicked and so very fucking hard, was easing into him with a surprising gentleness that he didn't need but didn't protest because it felt so perfect, so right to have Rupert in him again that he was willing to wait until Rupert thought he was ready to be fucked.

Ethan drew a shuddering breath. He was grateful for the support of the mattress underneath him, firm and solid, even though he really couldn't feel it. The only parts of his body that felt alive were the ones that Rupert was touching as if he'd been nothing but stone all this time and was only now becoming real now that he was shabby and bits of his fur had been worn off. He shifted slightly backward, feeling the stretch as Rupert's cock slid half an inch deeper, and closed his eyes. Still waiting.

As if that tiny shift, that evidence of his need coupled with his silence was all it took to take the edge off Rupert's – well, he didn't really think Rupert was angry with him. No, it was more complicated than that and truth be told, possessive jealousy wasn't a bad look on Rupert as far as he was concerned. Ethan was still a little puzzled and distrustful about Rupert's apparent need to organise their future, but this, no, he wasn't puzzled about why he was positioned like this. Rupert was... claiming him. And part of him loved it.

And then the hands on his hips dug into his skin and Rupert ended the waiting with a slow, deep thrust that left Ethan filled for one perfect moment as Rupert's breath caught on a sound half growl, half sob.

He didn't stay, though. Of course he couldn't stay. Rupert had to pull back, sliding away from Ethan and almost completely out before surging forward again. They began to find a rhythm, one in which Ethan's participation was more a hindrance than a help as he moved with Rupert each time the man withdrew. Rupert fucked him with a practiced skill, sharp thrusts that dragged across sensitive nerve endings and made Ethan groan loudly. In the second or two between thrusts, Ethan gasped Ripper's name, the word sounding a bit like a plea. He didn't care if he came or didn't come, so long as Rupert didn't stop.

He could smell their scents on the quilt beneath him, each breath bringing him the raw, male tang of sweat and sex. His skin was flushed and hot, reddened and chafed where Rupert's fingers were tight against him, and his wrists and knees were aching as he braced himself against the onslaught as Rupert began to fuck him harder, giving him just what he wanted.

One of the hands on him, anchoring him, holding him in place, moved, and Ethan shut his eyes, knowing what was to come and close to regretting it. He could hold back his own release if it meant enjoying this deep, hard stroking from Rupert, and he'd been aroused for so long now that the prospect of an end to the torment had become hazy and distant, but one touch on his cock, no matter how light – and he doubted Rupert was capable of a refinement like that anyway, not now – and he'd come, and all the good intentions in the world wouldn't help.

He whimpered as he felt Rupert's fingers curl around his swollen flesh, shoving his cock forward into the tight grip despite his best intentions to remain passive. It was too much. Rupert's cock rubbing deep inside him, Rupert's hand stroking him, left Ethan with nothing to do but cry out harshly as he came in a series of almost-painful spurts, his release slicking Rupert's fingers.

He could feel himself clench around Rupert as his climax poured through and over him, ripping control from his hands and leaving him only able to hold position long enough for the final three thrusts Rupert gave him because of Rupert's grip on him, one hand still on his hip, the other moving to his thigh.

Three strokes, with Rupert starting to come on the first, slamming into him fast enough that the next two blurred together, with Rupert shouting out as he began to spill into Ethan, his cock deep inside him.

Ethan's arms couldn't support him any longer – he collapsed forward into what was surely an ungainly position, arse in the air and Rupert's hands still tight on his hip and thigh as he jerked out the last of his orgasm into Ethan. The blanket was rough against Ethan's cheek, his entire body humming with pleasure and limp with exhaustion.

Rupert eased out of him with a sigh that came close to being a whimper and rolled Ethan to his side before lying down behind him. His arm went around Ethan's waist, pulling him close with a sublime disregard for the inevitable mess they were in, and they stayed like that in a rare, contented silence for a minute or two. Then Ethan took a breath, preparing to speak, and Rupert's hand moved up to cover his mouth in a warning.

"I wasn't joking about being careful what you said," Rupert told him mildly, letting his hand drift back down.

"What about 'Glad to see you haven't lost your touch?'" Ethan asked cautiously, putting his arm over Rupert's where it hugged his waist.

Rupert chuckled and Ethan felt the brief, always welcome touch of Rupert's lips against his back. "I suppose I can't really complain about that without seeming churlish. Thank you, and I'll return the compliment."

He eased back and brushed his mouth over Ethan's shoulder, over skin that Ethan realised was sore and stinging from Rupert's teeth. "Sorry," he murmured. "I think that's going to leave a bruise."

Ethan squirmed around, wanting to see Rupert's face. "I don't mind," he said. He leant in and kissed Rupert, doing what very well might have been called snuggling up to him despite the rather cold and sticky spot he was lying in. "Am I allowed to tell you that I wouldn't mind doing this more often?"

"You're allowed to be as annoying as you like now my heartbeat's returned to normal," Rupert told him, giving him a lazily satisfied smile. "And we can do this as often as you like." His eyes narrowed. "Although if pissing me off becomes a regular part of our foreplay I might change my mind about that. Was that really necessary?"

"It got us both what we wanted, didn't it?" Ethan asked, sliding a hand along Rupert's chest and tracing one fingertip around a nipple. He squirmed a bit, feeling the ache that had resulted from their eager coupling. "I got fucked, and you didn't have to worry about anything but the moment." Of course, that hadn't quite stopped Ethan from worrying about what would happen after this, little as he wanted to.

"I wanted – oh, never mind." Rupert gave Ethan what was presumably meant to be a stern look, the effect of which was lessened when Ethan dragged his finger across Rupert's ribs, making him squirm. "Yes, that's still ticklish – full marks for remembering. Now stop it." Rupert captured his hand and kissed him, which as reprisals went was less than effective. "Going to tie you up next time," Rupert murmured between kisses, sounding, sadly, less than serious. "And gag you, and then perhaps I'll be able to take my time over fucking you."

There was a lift of hope that Rupert was talking about 'next time,' and Ethan slid his arm around Rupert and held on as they continued to kiss. "You know I don't mind being tied up," he said. "And somehow I don't think I was the only one who enjoyed it." Carefully, paying attention to Rupert's response, he suggested, "When we go back to London we could experiment with it a bit. See how it suits us."

There was a pause and Rupert pulled back a little, studying Ethan, who tried to keep his face clear of anything resembling anxiety or hope.

"Perhaps we could," Rupert said finally, his voice cautious as though he wasn't sure how they'd moved to this point. Ethan wasn't sure himself, and he wondered if once the glow had worn off he'd regret making even this much of a commitment to a shared future. Rupert's hand cupped his face gently. "Are you just being kind to me here? Because you'd made it fairly clear you weren't interested in giving me a second chance. And I wouldn't have thought sex, no matter how spectacular, was enough to change your mind." He smiled. "I know exactly how stubborn you are, you see."

Ethan's lungs felt tight, too small as though they'd been stuck together with some sort of glue and had to fight to expand. This was why he hadn't wanted to dance even this close to the subject; not when he felt all sorts of horrid, inappropriate things like hope. "I might not be averse to trying again," he said, searching Rupert's eyes for what the other man was thinking. "If I thought there was a chance things might turn out differently this time."

"Everything's different," Rupert said. "But I think that's a good sign when it comes to us. And I'm feeling suddenly happy, which is a terrible one." He grinned at Ethan. "Sorry. Too long on the Hellmouth."

Some of Ethan's anxiety faded, and he stroked his hand down along Rupert's back to his arse. "Not everything," he said. "You're still an incredible shag, for instance." Ruefully, he added, "Although my ability to go another round immediately has definitely gone the way of the dodo."

Rupert rolled to his back and gave a heartfelt groan of agreement. "God, yes. I'm astonished I, ah, rose to the occasion twice in as many hours. Feel free to take that as a testimonial to your charms." He yawned. "And shagged out is more like it. Why don't you take the first shower and then we can move on to the resting part of the afternoon's entertainment?" He craned his head and gave Ethan an appraising but affectionate look. "You look as if you need it."

"That's your way of telling me I look old, isn't it," Ethan said, but he got up, looking at the soiled quilt with distaste. "If you're sure you don't mind?"

Rupert just waved a hand at him, yawning again, so Ethan went off to the shower, grateful for the hot water. Still, he didn't linger. He wasn't quite convinced that it was possible for things to go smoothly for the two of them, and that meant he wanted to wallow in the good times while they lasted.

He got back to find the bed remade and Rupert looking a little more awake and sitting at the table wearing a robe. "You were quick. Does that mean the hot water ran out?"

"Yes," Ethan said dryly. "Do go and take your turn now so that I can laugh at your shrieks." He draped his towel on the windowsill and quickly pulled on some clothes, feigning that he was colder than he actually was. There was still steam wafting into the rest of the cottage through the opened bathroom door. "The water heater's quite large. Probably enough hot water in there for more than a lonely, single man's shower."

He wasn't implying anything immediate, of course, but in the morning it might be nice to share a wash, if things were still going well then.

Rupert finished gathering up his own towel and toiletries and walked over to him, tucking them under his arm. "Only probably? Well, if it runs out, perhaps tomorrow we could share one? In the interests of saving water and keeping you well and truly grounded of course. Nothing to do with my aversion to cold water." He stepped closer and pushed his fingers through Ethan's wet hair before kissing him. "And nothing to do with wanting to remind myself how you feel when you're naked and wet."

Ethan melted into Rupert's embrace, letting their bodies touch down the length of them. It felt wonderful even if they were both fully clothed. "You know I'm very concerned with conservation," he said, trying to sound serious. "Especially of things like hot water. And body heat."

"Doesn't sound very like you," Rupert murmured, dropping what he was holding to the floor and wrapping both his arms around Ethan. "But as long as I get my back scrubbed..." He nuzzled against Ethan's neck. "You smell clean," he said with a sigh. "I'm filled with envy. Right. Shower." He stepped back, giving Ethan a look that held more than a little conflict. "Would you mind if I got on with this translation when I get out? I'm sure you'll be asleep by then anyway."

Ethan couldn't help but be annoyed that Rupert would rather work on some stupid translation, although the conflicted look was a bit gratifying, and he was rather weary. "Yes, you finish that up," he said. "Then we can get on with more important pursuits. Me, for example."

Rupert bent down to pick up his towel and things. "I can't pursue you unless you run away. I'd really rather you didn't do that." He straightened and smiled at Ethan. "Please don't. And I do want to finish this." He moved close enough to give Ethan another kiss. "If only so I can give you my full, uninterrupted attention."

The warmth in his eyes was promising enough to make Ethan's mild irritation fade away.

"All right," Ethan said. "Off you go."

Rupert went into the bathroom and started up the shower. The sound of the water running tempted Ethan to go in and join him, but he really was exhausted, and the bed looked so tempting... He pulled down the quilt and crawled in between it and the sleeping bags, thinking that he'd only lie his head on the pillow for a minute or two...

Then he was waking up. The cottage was dark – the only light was the faint flickering of the fire and the lantern Rupert had sat on the kitchen table, where he was bent over a pile of books and papers. Ethan hitched himself up onto one elbow and rubbed at his face blearily. "How long have you been at it?" he asked.

"Long enough to have just finished," Rupert said, pushing his chair back from the table. "I've still got to read it again and get a feel for it as a whole though. By the end I was just translating it word-for-word and not paying much attention to the sense of it." He stood up, stretching his arms and wincing. "And long enough to miss a proper desk and a comfortable chair." He glanced over at Ethan. "You were fast asleep by the time I got out; how do you feel now?"

"Like I slept in my clothes," Ethan said, pulling back the covers and sitting up. "I've really been doing that far too much lately." He looked down at himself, feeling slightly off and not sure why. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"You needed it," Rupert told him. "And you didn't miss a thing, I promise." He began to stack up the papers and books. "I'll get these out of the way and see about some food. How hungry are you feeling?"

Ethan frowned, slipping his feet into his shoes as the wooden floor was on the chilly side. "I don't know. There's..." Something was definitely wrong. For a few seconds, he thought it was with him, but then he realised that it wasn't. "Hang on." Getting up, Ethan went to the front window and looked out.

An expensive-looking silver car was parked behind their rental car. As Ethan stared at it he felt his unease deepen. Why would a car like that be here of all places? And why was it standing empty, with no sign of a driver?

"Bugger," Ethan said, backing away quickly, hoping he hadn't been seen by anyone lurking in the shadows. "Rupert, I think we've got a visitor or two. The kind you don't bake a cake for."

Rupert dropped the papers he was holding, responding, Ethan thought, less to that odd feeling of wrongness than his agitation. It didn't matter. Rupert was too old a hand at this to waste time on reassuring him that it was probably nothing and they just wanted directions.

"Do you think it's connected with what you've been doing?" Rupert asked. His face went still, a cold anger in his voice. "The Initiative? Because if it is –" He came to Ethan's side, slipping a hand inside his arm in a brief, reassuring squeeze before looking around. "Did you see how many there are?"

"I didn't see anyone," Ethan said, shaking his head. "Not in the car, not outside." The suggestion that this could have something to do with the Initiative started a deep, resonant fear burning low in his belly, a fear that he couldn't ignore. He turned and spotted Rupert's cell phone on the table, and without thinking, reached for it. Almost before his fingers made contact, the small piece of plastic sizzled, a thin wisp of smoke coming up as he shorted it out. "Bugger!" His eyes sought Rupert's.

Rupert shrugged, moving close and clasping Ethan's hand in what might have been a safety measure but helped Ethan to damp down the flare of panic a little. "Who were you going to call, anyway?" he said gently. "We're on our own, I think." He glanced around the bare room. "No weapons. No back door. I think we should try to get to the car." He pulled on his jacket, tossing Ethan his, and took out the car keys. "Ready?"

Before either of them could do anything more, there was the splintering sound and slam of the door being kicked in, and three men dressed in dark clothing came rushing into the cottage. It was, Ethan thought later, fortunate that he and Rupert had known something was going on beforehand. Otherwise, it was difficult to say how things might have turned out. As it was, everything happened very quickly. The men had guns, and one was clasping a short piece of rope in a gloved hand. That was all it took to get a reaction from Ethan as two of them moved toward Rupert, seemingly more intent on him than on Ethan.

The anger that rose up at the idea of Rupert being threatened didn't replace Ethan's fear for his own well-being, but it shoved it aside long enough for him to act. Rupert was already moving, putting the table in between himself and the two men and hooking his fingers under it as he prepared to shove it against them. Which was a fine idea, Ethan thought, feeling oddly detached, his mind working quickly with a clarity driven by necessity, but the guns changed things somewhat. Obviously the idea wasn't to kill them, or in these close quarters they'd already be dead. They wanted Rupert, and they wanted him alive.

Of course, the same didn't necessarily hold true for him.

Ethan turned his attention to the man in front of him and smiled. The gun was pointing at him, held in a steady hand, but there was wariness in the pale-grey eyes. The man looked... capable, Ethan thought. Not overly muscled, but strong, and at thirty or so, in the prime of his life.

Pity it was about to end.

He reached for the magic, which had been building up for some time now. It was ready to be used – no, not ready, eager, straining for release – and Ethan was more than ready to use it. Or, he thought as he felt it explode from him, to be used by it. The first bolt of power hit the man in front of him. He was, Ethan was quite sure, dead before he even collapsed. The expression on the man's face went from wary to shocked in less than a heartbeat, and then to nothing at all as he went down. Before Ethan could think, he was turning to the other men, both of whom were looking in his direction now that they'd identified him as a potential source of difficulty. The magic jolted the one on the left so hard that the gun flew from his hand in an arc that seemed to Ethan to be almost in slow motion. The man on the right had enough time to shout as he died, the smell of burning flesh acrid in the air of the small cottage. And then the payback arrived, the crackle of energy surrounding Ethan. There was no doubt in his mind that it was going to be bad.

He turned to Rupert. If he'd just sacrificed himself he was damned if he was going to die without seeing the reason why he'd done it without regret just one last time.

Although he did have regrets – too many to waste time on now – saving Rupert, no matter what the cost, would never be one of them. Odd, that. He'd never really considered himself the hero type.

Rupert was moving, coming for him, coming at him, but Ethan put up a hand to ward him off. This was too much; no spring storm, light rain pattering, thunder rumbling as it had been when he'd done the spell to turn stone to sand, shifting cool through his fingers. This was tempest and flood, destruction and fire, searing, white-hot and deadly. He wasn't sure Rupert would survive being close to him, but he knew he'd never live if they touched.

Then he realised his mistake; what Rupert would think he was asking for with that imploring hand held out. He tried to draw it back, but it was too late. As he started to scream, feeling every part of his body fill with pain, unendurable and intense, Rupert's hand touched his. Touched, clung, held on.

And then it was Rupert's throat that was torn with agony, screams ripped from it, while Ethan watched and heard and waited for it to end, struggling to free himself from a grip that he couldn't break.

After that came the silence, and Rupert's fingers loosened as he fell.

They collapsed to the floor together, Ethan doing his pitiful best to cushion Rupert from the impact with the hard surface beneath them. His elbow connected with the wooden floor first, sending a jolt of near-electric pain along his arm, but he barely felt it. Feverishly, he touched Rupert's face. "Rupert? Rupert?" There was no response, but a trembling hand pressed to the man's chest revealed a heartbeat, and he seemed to be breathing normally. He was deeply unconscious, though.

Ethan's own breath was short, spasm-like as he tried to think. His eyes darted about the room and fell on one of the bodies of the men that had come after them, and he stumbled to his feet, going to each man in turn to be sure that they were truly dead before staggering over to the bed and grabbing a pillow and the quilt for Rupert. He moved Rupert carefully into a more comfortable position, pillow cushioning the man's head and the quilt over him for warmth. Rupert had slept for at least two hours after the last incident. He might be out for even longer this time. The question that kept running its way through Ethan's brain was 'why?' They seemed to have wanted Rupert, but not dead, although perhaps that was just a fanciful notion Ethan had latched onto. He went over to the closest body again and searched it, coming up with a mobile phone. With shaking hands that hadn't enough magic left in them to short out the phone, he worked his way through various menus, looking for something, anything that would make sense of this. He stopped when he reached the letter 'C.' C for Carlton. Ethan moved to the table and the finished translation, Rupert's paperwork in careful order. It didn't take long for him to sort out what he needed to do.

Part Ten

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