Giles had no way of telling how long they'd been walking. The maze had changed after the encounter with what Ethan had christened 'chaos-bunnies'. There were now corners and junctions, decisions to be made and options considered, but no matter which route they took, it led only to more identical corridors. His legs ached, and he tried to judge the time passed by this and the hunger he was starting to feel fairly strongly, but he wasn't sure how much the sensations truly meant.

They were approaching another right angle in the corridor when Ethan suddenly stopped, catching hold of Giles' jacket sleeve. "Wait. There's something around there."

Giles tried to stretch out with all of his senses, physical and magical, but was unable to sense anything definite, just a strong sense of danger. "More chaos-bunnies?" he asked, trusting Ethan's instincts when his own weren't sharp enough.

"Well, Chaos certainly. Raw and nasty, like the stuff that bastard threw at you." Ethan turned to Ian. "What do you think?"

Ian frowned, his eyes focusing distantly. "I think," he said slowly, "that we're going to have to find another way around. The Chaos is coating every surface. I might be able to make it through uncontaminated in crow form, but you two, especially Rupert..."

Giles suppressed a sigh at those last two words, of which he was beginning to become heartily tired.

Ethan pulled a face. "What's the betting that if we walk back the way we came, all the turnings we took to get to this place will be gone? We'll probably find ourselves back here after another useless hour of walking." He sighed. "It's too late to leave a trail of breadcrumbs anyway. So, we have a puzzle to solve. This feels like playing Tomb Raider, only without the implausible breasts."

"The implausible what?" Sometimes Ethan's conversation became as impenetrable as the Sunnydale children's had once been.

Ethan stared at him in obvious exasperation. "Dear God, Rupert, how do you manage to remain so steadfastly ignorant of pop culture? At least I assume it's pop culture you're ignorant of and not female anatomy as I clearly remember watching you handle some of the objects in question. Admittedly, a long time ago now..."

"Yes, well, all the breasts I did handle were extremely plausible."

"Do hold onto that memory, dearest, as I can assure you there'll be no more of the reality in your future." Ethan pouted artfully at Giles then moved ahead, cautiously approaching the corner.

"There's always that sex change spell from the same volume as the flying car," Giles pointed out, following Ethan to catch a glimpse at what they were facing.

Ethan stuck his hand out, blocking Giles' path. "Rupert, for God's sake, caution is not a dirty word!"

"I'm not doing anything you're not doing," Giles pointed out. His irritation at Ethan continuing to treat him like a defenceless child made his voice a little sharp.

"In case you've forgotten," Ethan said, glaring and showing more than a little irritation of his own, "this stuff melts you."

"It's not exactly healthy for you either."

"I don't fall apart. Literally. Go back to Ian." Ethan pursed his lips and looked mulish in the way that only he could.

Giles felt rather mulish himself, but gave in with an exasperated sigh. "We're going to be talking about this," he warned as he headed back to where he couldn't see or do anything.

"He'll concentrate better if he's not getting in a tiz over your safety," Ian murmured from where he was leaning against the wall.

"Makes me rather bloody useless though if I'm not allowed to even take a bloody look," Giles grumbled. Being treated like a child was certainly making him feel like one, a rather misbehaved, sulky one at that.

Ethan disappeared around the corner briefly, but was back again before Giles had a chance to worry. He returned to stand with them. "Right, strip both of you," he said, beginning to do so himself.

"Do you feel like enlightening us as to why?" Giles asked, not moving to undress yet, although Ian had begun to obey Ethan's demand unquestioningly.

"We're going through the air ducts," Ethan said, already leaning against the wall to pull his trousers off. "The Chaos extends up above the ceiling, but there's an empty, Chaos-free space between our ceiling and the floor above. I'm going to use the pen to draw an access vent. If we concentrate hard enough, that should create the air duct itself as well."

"A reasonable plan," Giles acknowledged. "However that fails to explain the need for nudity."

"I imagine," Ian commented, "that we're expected to put on cloaks of fur or feather now."

Ethan smiled appreciatively at Ian before saying slightly tersely to Giles, "There's only enough room for a narrow duct between the floors, and I'd prefer us as lightweight and quick-footed as possible."

"Oh." That certainly made sense, although it wouldn't have been Giles' first choice. Reluctantly, he began undressing.

"Have you considered the inadequacy of beak and small muzzle as opposed to hands?" Ian asked. Ethan frowned at him; clearly, he hadn't.

"Which brings up two problems," Giles said, laying out what they would need to solve. "Firstly, how to bring our clothes and other accoutrements with us, and secondly, how to draw ourselves an exit."

"I have rope," Ethan offered unexpectedly and drew out from his jacket a small coil of rope nearly thin enough to be considered string.

"I suppose we can make some kind of system to pull our things through," Giles allowed, which took care of one problem. The second one was going to take a bit more ingenuity. Remembering a documentary he'd seen on an artist who'd lost the use of his hands, Giles asked, "How do you feel about wearing a headband?"

"For the pen?" Ethan checked. "I can't say it sounds exactly like vulpine haute couture, but it could work. Rupert, I'm not happy that we won't be able to talk to Ian while we're changed. I know there are group telepathy spells; I don't suppose you know one?"

"I do, although I've never actually tried it." The technique had always been beyond his abilities, or so Giles had thought at the time. Looking at it now, and with the added experience the bond with Ethan had given him, he rather thought it wouldn't be difficult at all.

Ethan laid his jacket out and put everything of theirs bar the pen, rope, and their belts on top of it. "I can't say I'm happy about transporting the Key this way," he said. "Pity none of us have marsupial beast forms."

Giles shuddered at that rather disturbing thought. He wasn't all that comfortable with animal transformations as it was; having pockets would have been a bit much. "We make do with what we have."

Ian nodded. "The Key knows where it belongs," he said, gently adding it to the middle of the pile. "It's not going anywhere without us."

After cutting off a section of rope apparently with his fingernails –enchanted, clearly– Ethan trussed everything together in a long sausage inside his jacket, binding it with the rest of the rope and two of their belts. He looked at the loose end dubiously. "Fancy a harness, dear?" he asked Giles.

"I don't have much choice here, do I?"

Ethan's lips twitched. "Black leather would have been so much nicer." Ian chuckled at that, but Giles suppressed a frown, his irritation from earlier still affecting his mood. 'Dearheart, don't?' Ethan sent, looking at him with slight concern. 'Be in a mood with me afterwards, not now. Now we need to be of one accord, surely.'

'Easier said than done.' Giles managed to keep his tone civil, just about. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 'Look, this isn't the time for this argument; let's just get on with it for now.'

Ethan didn't answer, and when Giles glanced at him, he saw only Ethan's back as he handed the rope and one of their belts to Ian. "Looks like it's you who gets to practice your bondage skills, dear crow," he said with a nasty edge to his voice, before turning back to Giles. "I suppose giving me a leg up to draw the vent would be beneath your grand heroic dignity."

Giles opened his mouth, but closed it again without saying anything. Really, what could he say that wouldn't make the situation worse? Instead, he mutely gave Ethan a boost up to draw their path. Ethan sketched quickly and then stepped down. Meeting Giles' eyes with a look bordering on insolent, he then linked his own fingers and bowed, offering his hands to Giles as a step.

Stepping up, Giles just as quickly imbued Ethan's drawing with his magic, and after the vent had become at least tactilely real, Giles opened it and let it hang on its hinges. He stepped back down, remaining silent.

Ethan didn't straighten; instead, he dropped to his hands and knees, twitched, and changed into the fox, releasing a strange cough-like noise as he did so. For a few moments, he stood panting, his head down, but then he shivered from his muzzle to the tip of his brush and trotted over to Ian without looking up at Giles once. Giles tried to repress another surge of irritation at Ethan's attitude; just because he refused to pretend he wasn't annoyed, Ethan was now acting like a sulky four year old. All right, granted, there might be a bit of sulking on his behalf as well, but why did he have to be the mature one all the time?

Ian, staying perhaps wisely quiet, carefully fabricated a head harness for Ethan from the rope, holding the pen to the side of Ethan fox's head, just below his ear. After Ethan had tried it out and managed to make a mark on the floor to Ian's satisfaction, they both turned to Giles.

"Better do that spell now," Ian suggested. "Before you lose the use of your hands."

"It's more of a knack than a spell, but..." Giles closed his eyes and went through the steps he had learnt from Willow to make the psychic connection with the older man. 'Ian?' he asked, testing it out.

'Interesting,' Ian immediately sent back. 'Lucy has linked to me in the past, among others, but this feels a little different. You there too, young fox?'

'Yes,' Ethan sent briskly. 'Ready to change?' He looked at Giles.

"As I'll ever be," Giles replied aloud, without much enthusiasm. This kind of giving over of control was not something he ever relished, especially with Ethan in this mood. But he didn't have time to think about it for long as there was a yank on his body, pulling him forward and down. He was looking at Ethan at the time and actually saw the vibrant reds seem to bleach out of the fox's fur. Then the world became a world of scent again, and this time, it smelled wrong.

Instinctively, Giles backed up, shaking his head as if to dislodge the wrong smell, sneezing when that didn't work. It wasn't just the smell; it was everything around him that was bad, off in a way that raised his hackles. Giles growled low in his throat, feeling the urges to fight and to flee both equally strongly.

Fox-Ethan trotted forward a few steps, coming close enough to sniff cautiously at Giles. 'Rupert? Is something wrong?' Everything was wrong; everything that is except Ethan, who smelled wonderfully, perfectly right in this world of wrongness.

Still growling at the very air that was putting him so much on edge, Giles moved closer to Ethan.

'Dearheart, talk to me. Please.' A wet fox nose was moved along Giles' face and neck, investigating.

Giles turned his muzzle into Ethan's fur, breathing in more of the only right scent around him. 'Bad,' he managed.

'Me?' Ethan asked with alarm. 'I'm bad?'

'No. Everything else is.'

'Oh' Ethan moved closer still and seemed to be trying to curl himself around Giles. 'Even Ian?'

Giles didn't answer. Having Ethan around him helped steady him somewhat. If he concentrated on Ethan's scent and presence, he didn't feel like the entire world had turned inside out. He didn't want to willingly go beyond that.

'Rupert?' Ethan sent as he whimpered a little aloud. He pressed his nose into Giles' neck. 'Please talk to me.'

'What...' Giles took a deep breath and tried to order his thoughts. 'Why is everything wrong?'

'Because it's Chaos, illusions created from Chaos. We can sense it more acutely in this form, and it's anathema to you, dearest. I think...' Ethan paused, but then continued on. 'I think your subconscious remembers what Chaos did to you and is scared, and in these forms, we're closer to our instincts and subconscious urges.'

Chaos. The word, the explanation, kicked Giles back into thinking instead of just reacting. 'Right,' he said, sharing his thoughts with Ethan. 'We're surrounded by Chaos so of course it's going to smell... feel... be bad.' Lifting his head from Ethan's fur, he took a deep breath, fighting the urge to dive back in again. After a few such breaths, Giles began to relax ever so slightly.

'This is going to be a problem, isn't it?' Ethan sat down very close to Giles and panted. 'We're going to have to pass right through an area of raw Chaos, like the stuff that hurt you. I may be able to shield you a little, but... your animal instincts are going to be screaming at you for attention.'

'Now that I know what it is, I can handle it,' Giles said, although he wasn't as certain as he tried to sound.

'Maybe I should wear the harness,' Ethan suggested. 'I don't want to add to any feelings of claustrophobia for you.'

Giles shook his head, the gesture feeling odd in this body. 'I can do this. You've got enough to concentrate on drawing by headband.' He forced himself to look up, extend his senses beyond the narrow focus of Ethan's presence, and found another point of non-wrongness in Ian's presence, which provided a further anchor for him.

Ethan was sticking very close, his sulk apparently forgotten. He pressed and rubbed his body all along Giles. 'Let's be quick then, so you can be human again as soon as possible.'

'I won't argue with that.' But still, Giles made no move to pull away from Ethan so they could get on with it.

'Ian, may I persuade you to come over here?' Ethan asked after a few moments.

"Of course," Ian said, stepping over to them. Giles craned his neck up to look at the suddenly quite tall man until Ian knelt down closer to them. Ethan stayed reassuringly close as Ian looped the belt twice around Giles in a way that crossed the leather under his chest. It felt odd, unnatural, and when Ian fixed the end of the rope to the top of the makeshift harness, it pulled.

Ethan rubbed the side of his head against Giles'. 'How does that feel? Bearable?'

'It feels.... strange.' Giles chuckled, which came out in a series of clicks and little growls. 'Guess that's to be expected. I'm a badger, not an ox.'

'I need to go first,' Ethan said, 'as I need to draw when we get to the other side, and Ian will bring up the rear as he has to lift us up there.' Which made perfect sense, although Giles couldn't help but notice he was being sandwiched between Ethan and Ian again. Given the situation, Giles couldn't really complain about it this time. Having those points of rightness surrounding him in the midst of all this wrong would definitely help.

'Just means I get to watch your tail for a while,' he deliberately joked.

Ethan panted, fox-grinning at Giles, which may not have been a real grin at all, but it certainly looked like one. 'Are we all ready?'

'I am.' Giles looked up at Ian expectantly.

"Ready whenever you two are," Ian responded. "Shall I give you a hand up, my dear fox?"

Ethan nodded, which looked peculiar, but Ian seemed to understand. He lifted the fox body easily so that Ethan could scrabble up into the hole. He disappeared briefly, and then his head appeared, looking down. 'The way looks clear, but we should hurry, I think.'

Giles looked at Ian. 'If you would be so kind to give me a boost...?' Ian smiled and lifted Giles up until he was level with the opening. Ethan moved back out of the way, making room for Giles to scramble inside in a rather undignified fashion, with help from Ian's hand beneath his haunches.

The wrongness, the worst of it, was closer here; Giles could feel its menacing presence just ahead around the corner, making the fur along his spine stand up. Ethan backed his way in further to allow Giles to make room for the sausage of clothes that Ian was now poking through. Giles bit into it and tugged it up and along.

Ethan prodded Giles with his nose. 'There better not be any tooth marks in my jacket. My coat's already ruined, remember?'

'I'll buy you a new one when this is all over,' Giles replied. 'In fact, you can go on a full shopping spree if you want.'

'There's incentive,' Ethan said, and Giles could tell he was smirking inside. There was a flutter of wings and a squawk, and Ian joined them in the narrow duct in his crow form.

Narrow the duct might have been, but if Giles didn't think about the corridor below them or the Chaos ahead, then the close quarters actually felt quite cosy. He snorted with amusement when he realised that was because in some ways it was much like a badger's set.

'What did that noise mean?' Ethan asked, sounding concerned. 'Do you want a pause before we do this?'

'I'm fine,' Giles assured. 'Instincts work both ways. Did you know you were creating what amounts to an artificial badger burrow when you were drawing this?'

Ethan made a very strange noise, but Giles had heard it before and knew it was a chuckle. 'Foxes and badgers often den together, so I read on the net. Ok...' He wiggled around in the narrow space and then there was a fluffy brush in Giles' face. 'Let's go as quickly as we can.'

'You lead, I will follow,' Giles replied.

Clearly talking to Ian, Ethan added, 'Come on, Captain Beaky, you too.'

'I resent the implication that I have any resemblance to a duck,' Ian sent, his mental tone dry.

Happy for the distraction, Giles said, 'I thought Captain Beaky was a chicken?'

'Even worse!' Ian declared.

'Better than a goose,' Ethan commented philosophically and trotted off.

Giles followed almost without thinking as his instincts told him to stay close to Ethan. The sausage of clothes was an annoying weight dragging behind him, the rope constantly getting caught under his paws. As they drew closer to the Chaos, all of his skin began to crawl as if his fur were alive with parasites. He couldn't help but growl constantly, deep and low in his throat, as he tried to ignore the way the Chaos was making him feel. He tried to narrow his focus down to two things, Ethan in front of him and putting one paw in front of the other to follow him.

'Help me with this, mentor mine?' Ethan asked as Giles felt a cocoon of Ethan's magic start to grow around him. A second later, he felt a similar if not quite as familiar magic surround him from behind; Giles looked over his shoulder to see what he swore was a crow grinning at him.

So effective was the blanket they'd covered him with that Giles was almost halfway though the Chaos before he really began to feel it again. Suddenly one of his rear legs ached ferociously, and he felt like he couldn't breathe.

'Nearly through,' Ethan sent. 'Nearly there, dearheart.'

Giles gritted his teeth and kept going, the growling he was unable to stop beginning to sound more like whimpers. It was all around him: darkness, death, nameless threat surrounding him, cutting off his escape routes, promising pain and terror and then oblivion.

'Keep going, Rupert.' Ian's voice, firmly encouraging. 'Can't stop now.'

No, he couldn't. 'Keep talking,' he bade, doing everything he could to block out the sickly feel, the sibilant whispering that was trying to take him.

'Just another few feet and we're clear,' Ethan said immediately. He moved a little faster, forcing Giles to make his aching body move faster too or lose that vital closeness. 'You're doing brilliantly.'

'You're doing just fine,' Ian agreed. 'Remember to breathe as you walk. Concentrate on that and on your Ethan. Leave the rest to us.'

Yes. Breathing. That was definitely something he could focus on, counting his breaths as he followed his Ethan through this nightmare. He'd counted to twenty-five before the weight of menace began to lessen noticeably, but then, just as Giles really wanted to keep going to get clear, Ethan stopped.

'Time for me to play artist again.'

That meant that they were almost out of here. That was good. It also meant that until Ethan finished drawing their exit, there was nowhere to go; all Giles could do was stand where he was and wait. That was bad. Giles made another whimpering sound, acutely aware of the heart of Chaos that lay just behind them. Ethan whimpered too, perhaps in response, and Giles felt the magic cocoon around him strengthen, Ian's magic again mixing with Ethan's. Then there was a strange scraping noise that Giles didn't like at all, until he realised it was the noise of the pen on the floor of their tunnel.

'Bugger,' came from Ethan, followed by, 'oh for fu–' but finally the noise stopped, and Ethan walked further on again. 'Make it real, Ripper. Only, um, don't stand on it when you do. Bolts, hinges or fixings were beyond me.'

Giles moved forward, looking at the crude drawing that Ethan had managed. Starting at the far side, Giles ran a paw along the edge of the line, sending his magic through it. He finished up right in front of where he was standing, being careful that no part of his body was in the square at that time.

The magic worked, and the piece so outlined fell out, clattering on the floor below.

'Make way for the one of us with wings,' Ian announced. Moving as much to the side as he could, Giles let Ian waddle by, sneezing as the crow's feathers slid across his face. There was a slightly ungainly fluttering as Ian pretty much dropped out of the hole, but then almost immediately, human hands were reaching up, ready to catch Giles.

Giles shifted forward to the edge of the opening and then awkwardly launched himself through it to be caught and held securely in human hands. Ian clasped him close for a heartbeat or two as he manoeuvred the clothes parcel down to the floor. Then he knelt to set Giles on the ground. A moment later and Ian was setting Ethan down beside him.

'Get the harness off him so I can change him back,' Ethan sent urgently, biting at the belt that was wrapped around Giles as if intending to gnaw it off.

Ian, still knelt beside them both, somehow managed to push Ethan back and unbuckle the belt all in one swift motion. As soon as the harness fell to the floor, Giles sensed a surge of Ethan's power and felt himself changing, stretching and pulling until he was on his hands and knees, naked, and the Chaos-menace was like a strong wind beyond double glazed windows again rather than a hurricane raging all around him.

Ethan, still in fox form with the pen tied to his head, licked Giles' cheek.

"Thank you," Giles croaked, his voice feeling strange. He turned his head towards Ethan, sitting back and forcing fingers that still felt a little awkward to undo the pen and its headband. It took a while, but Ethan stood patiently, panting slightly, and as Giles eased the contraption from his head, Ethan began to change, sliding into human form and into Giles' arms in one smooth movement.

Giles closed his eyes and just held onto Ethan, letting his presence, his touch, soothe the last of his jangling nerves. Ethan made no move to pull away, kissing the side of Giles' face and stroking his hair and his back. "That was unpleasant," he understated dryly.

"Yes," Giles said in lame agreement. "I think I'm happier with my normal, dull human senses."

"We should get dressed and move further away," Ethan said, sensibly enough, although he didn't move.

"Sound thinking," came from Ian, and there was a series of noises Giles interpreted as the sausage of clothes being pulled across the floor and then untrussed. Giles held Ethan tighter for a moment. Then he forced himself to let go, turning towards where Ian was getting their clothes sorted out.

His attention was caught en route by the view back the way they had come. A whole stretch of the corridor was painted in dripping, tarry Chaos that made his vision distort and his stomach turn just to see it. It made a noise too, a very quiet white noise, but Giles was suddenly aware of the whisper of static he'd been hearing all this while without realising.

He was able to resist the urge to put his hands over his ears, but couldn't keep from giving a full body shudder.

"Nasty stuff," Ian commented as he handed Giles his clothing. "Dark Chaos with all the pretty veneer removed."

"I prefer it cute and fluffy," Ethan agreed. "Don't look at it, Ripper. Get dressed and come away now."

Ethan was still treating him like a child, but Giles couldn't find it in him to protest just then. Instead, he mutely obeyed, turning his back on the roiling mass of sticky darkness and stepping further down the corridor before stopping to put his clothes back on.

The other two dressed quickly also. In fact, by the time Giles had finished rebuckling his belt with shaking fingers, Ian and Ethan were already fully dressed and muttering close together against the other wall, which in the circumstances made Giles feel all the more the odd man out. He shoved that feeling down as best he could and said, "Shall we be on our way?"

They both looked at him, and Ethan walked over and took his hand, squeezing it. "Yes, let's."

"We think a rest might be called for shortly, Rupert," Ian said. "When we're far enough away from this unpleasantness."

"Do I look that bad?" Giles asked dryly, although he didn't argue with their plan. What good would it do him, after all?

"Oh, it's for my benefit, dear boy," Ian answered breezily. "I am somewhat older than you two, after all." Giles looked at Ian, who appeared as fresh as he had when they'd first started, and couldn't keep from snorting in disbelief.

Ethan glanced at Giles, looking very much as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Giles realised suddenly that the telepathic link he'd made to Ian was still in effect, so maybe that was why. Before he had a chance to comment on that, however, they turned a corner.

"A door!" Ethan exclaimed.

"Lots of doors," Ian added drolly.

Indeed, this corridor was lined with doors, one every several feet or so. "From famine to feast," Giles remarked. "This could take some time."