Twenty-five doors down the line, it had become clear –to Ethan, at least– that nothing really had changed. Each door led to an empty grey box of a room, some of which had a second door in them, but if so, it only opened into another endless corridor of doors.

Ethan slumped against the wall of their latest room and folded his arms. He was quite extraordinarily weary. The power he had used during the morning's ritual had been intense, and what with keeping Rupert safe, whether the stubborn bugger wanted to be or not, and with constantly having to boost the magical membrane around his cache of Dawn's pattern, Ethan wasn't getting any opportunity to restore his batteries.

Not only that but he was hungry, thirsty, stressed about Rupert, rapidly going mad for the lack of colour and variety in this unreal world they were exploring, and his legs ached. He'd had enough. "Somewhere an unfortunate camel has just found itself suddenly paraplegic," he announced. He could almost hear the poor creature's spine snap.

"Perhaps it's time for that rest you mentioned," Giles suggested, seeming less resistant to the idea now. "A chance to sit and regroup, see if we can come up with some more effective way of crossing through this labyrinth."

Ethan let himself slip down the wall until he was sat leaning against it, his legs folded almost against his chest. He wrapped his arms around them and rested his chin dolefully on his knees. "Do you think if I draw us a three-course meal it will just taste of cardboard?" Or rather floorboard, as there wasn't much else to draw on.

Rupert sat down beside Ethan and pulled out the pen. "One way to find out," he said, offering it.

"Might want to draw us something to drink as well," Ian advised, settling down on Ethan's other side.

"Oh, I intend to, believe me, but let's see if this works to start with." Ethan uncurled himself and drew what he currently wanted most of all things directly onto the floor – two narrowly concentric circles and the space within them filled with wavy lines, and added on impulse, a blocky cube. He looked beseechingly at Rupert. "Oh, please make it real, dear-to-my-heart."

Rupert looked at the drawing for a moment and then reached out a finger and trailed it along the edges.

Ethan watched the shimmer that accompanied the drawing's solidification and nodded. It still looked like a scruffy ink drawing on dull wood, for all that it was now sitting on top of the floor, solidly 3d. However, Ethan put his hand around it and felt cold glass. Shutting his eyes, he lifted it to his lips and tipped, almost swooning with delight when he tasted good malt whisky, chilled by a cube of ice that bopped against his upper lip. "Bliss," he murmured.

"Is it?" Ian asked. "Come now, my boy, share the wealth in that case."

"Mine," Ethan answered succinctly, before tipping back the rest of glass' contents. He sighed happily, eyes still shut. The whisky was real. His eyes told him otherwise, but his body and his pattern senses confirmed it.

"You are going to draw more sustenance for everyone, correct?" Rupert asked in a leading tone.

"Providing there's ink left in the pen. I suppose I'd better draw large things so that we can carry with us what we don't eat." Ethan pursed his lips as he thought and then drew his version of a giant-sized bottle of spring water, a roast turkey, a large bunch of bananas, a bulk bar of Cadburys, and some bread and cheese. As the pen was still writing, he added a sizeable bottle of Glenfiddich, even going so far as writing the name on the label.

"Transubstantiating Glenfiddich seems almost like sacrilege," Rupert murmured as he added his magic to the drawings.

"It's a miracle, dear," Ethan told him. "And no mere bread and fish for us. We're a better class of messiah."

"Let's hope we come to a better end as well," Ian said as he reached out and took one of the drawn bananas.

"Close your eyes, crow," Ethan advised, ignoring where Ian's words wanted to take him. "It helps." Obeying his own instruction, he put his hands on the turkey, dug his fingers into warm, cooked breast meat, and ripped a hunk off. It tasted quite wonderful, moist and savoury.

There was silence for a while as all three of them concentrated on eating and drinking with the single-mindedness of the ravenous. Finally, Rupert sat back with a replete sigh, holding the bottle of malt and taking a large swallow. "Much better," he said, handing the bottle on to Ethan. After a swig and a few moments to enjoy the smooth burn, Ethan smiled beatifically at Rupert. He was feeling so much better now, positively mellow. "Come here and kiss me," he demanded lazily.

Rupert seemed obliging, but as he leant in to kiss Ethan, Ian reached over and plucked the bottle from Ethan's hand. "You won't be needing this then."

Ethan had a sudden and pleasant sense of deja vu. He let the bottle go without complaint and pushed the fingers of his now empty hand into Rupert's hair, holding him there for a long, luxurious kiss, after which, he sighed contentedly.

Rupert shifted position so that he and Ethan were leaning against each other, running one hand lightly over Ethan's shoulder in idle patterns. "I suppose we should also see about getting some sleep."

"I strongly doubt I've enough ink left for a mattress. That sounds like your kind of magic though, dearheart. You've always been a genius at providing that touch of physical comfort, be it warm air, a lack of excess water, or anything else we need."

"Outside, perhaps. Aside from priming your drawings, I've been rather useless in this godforsaken place."

Ah, and here it came. Ethan realised he'd been stupid to think they had moved on from the tension earlier. He pulled away from Rupert and leant back against the wall. "What you actually mean is, I assume, you haven't yet had a good opportunity to play hero. God knows how you managed all those years hiding behind the Slayer."

Rupert bristled at that and opened his mouth, but closed it again without saying anything. Instead, he got up and walked to the other side of the room, his entire body radiating tension.

Ignoring a pang of insecurity, Ethan looked sourly at Rupert's back. "Or is it just me you need to feel better than?"

"What I need is to be somewhere I can carry my own bloody weight and not be just a bloody burden slowing everything down," Rupert shot back, spinning around to face Ethan, eyes blazing.

It wasn't at all easy, but Ethan met Rupert's gaze evenly. Well, maybe not evenly, but he didn't look away. "You are not a burden."

"Well, I haven't been much use, have I?" Rupert spat and began pacing, a sure sign of how agitated he was. "Might as well have been hiding behind a Slayer..."

Ethan took a deep breath, and as he was no longer being glared at, shut his eyes again. "Since we have been stuck in this hell of tedium, you have provided the magic to make crappy ink lines into useful reality. You've played cricket with a chaos-bunny and provided the magic that allowed me to destroy it. You've provided much needed leadership for this ragtag threesome, and most importantly of all, you've stopped me going insane. In short, you've been vital. Now stop being such a stupid arse and come and sit down."

After a long moment, Rupert did so, but seemed in no better spirits.

Ethan sighed heavily. "Rupert, you can't... Look, this is just like after the big fight at the Estate wherein you were the big sword-wielding hero, Ian was playing blinding strokes, our girls were doing what they do best, and all I could manage was some lacklustre back up. Remind me what you said to me then?"

Rupert shook his head. "Different situation," he argued.

"Indeed it is," Ian put in, having listened quietly to the discussion up to this point. "Not many people have survived the sort of Chaos attack that you have, and that's going to leave you far more vulnerable to its effects than a couple of reformed acolytes are. Facing it is bound to leave you shaken. The fact that you did face it at all speaks well of your abilities and of how stubborn you are." Ian smiled at Rupert. "But there's no shame in needing and asking for help. You're far too intelligent a man to think there is."

Oh, thank the various deities for Ian. Ethan wanted to hug his old mentor, but realised that wouldn't be all that sensible currently as Rupert was liable to take it as siding against him. It was time to be a good boy himself and apologise for his bitchiness. "Sorry I accused you of glory-hounding, Ripper. I know –really, I know– that's not you." He dared to look up and give Rupert a sheepish smile.

Rupert sighed, and Ethan could practically see the tension leaving his body. "That last encounter may have rattled me more than I'd like to admit," he offered Ethan, an apology maybe. Ethan would take it as one anyway. Bad temper between them was never pleasant, but while they were in this godawful place, it was almost unbearable.

He stretched out his legs again and allowed one to rub against Rupert's. "So, going to make us a king size airbed?"

"I'm afraid you're going to have to settle for bundled jackets and me," Rupert replied, but there was a touch of humour back in his voice that helped Ethan relax further.

Ethan was certain that, were Rupert feeling more confident, he'd be able to improvise a spell that partially solidified the air near the floor, making it into something soft to lie on, but he felt pushing it on any matter currently was unwise. "I imagine we'll need to take turns on watch."

"I'll take first turn at that," Ian said, moving to sit facing out the open doorway and taking the whisky with him.

Ian probably was the least tired of them, so it made sense. Ethan nodded and held his arms out to Rupert. "Come here then, dear. Let's get settled." Rupert came willingly, and it only took a few moments for them to find the most comfortable position for sleeping together. Ethan suspected that it was rather more comfortable for him, seeing as he was half-lying on top of Rupert, but he decided it wasn't worth mentioning, all things considered. "Close your psychic ears, m'lord crow," Ethan said, nuzzling against Rupert's neck. "Or at least pretend to for Rupert's sake. I'm about to talk dirty."

"Now do I look like the type who would eavesdrop?" Ian asked with an admirable attempt at innocence.

"Yes," Rupert replied. "But I'll pretend otherwise."

'I suppose some physical comforting is out of the question?' Ethan sent, while nibbling on Rupert's earlobe. 'I'm sure it would do us both good. Relax us and soothe the stresses of the day.'

'Always the exhibitionist,' Rupert teased back, which Ethan noted wasn't a refusal.

'I'm sure Ian will claim to be looking the other way.' Ethan stroked a hand trailing a little magic down Rupert's chest and burrowed it under clothing. This was possibly foolhardy, but on the other hand, their bond had been strained by the events so far, and a little bit of sexual healing might be just what the doctor ordered. Well, some doctor, somewhere, even if it took a hefty bribe.

'Not very fair though, is it?' But even as Rupert protested, he made no move to stop Ethan.

'Well, we could always invite him to join in, dear. Cast wards first, of course.'

Rupert ran a hand down Ethan's spine. 'Do you really think this is the place for that?'

He'll be gone soon, Ethan thought to himself; it's this place or none at all, but he didn't say it either aloud or mentally. That wasn't something he wanted to risk Ian hearing. He couldn't think of another answer for Rupert, however, so he just moved more over him in order to kiss him.

Rupert kissed him back, sliding a hand to the back of Ethan's neck, holding him in place. 'I don't think I'm, ah, up to full shagging, but this is nice.'

Ethan tried not to feel too disappointed, but it was hard, he was hard, and it seemed nothing was going to be done about that. It had always been this way, of course. When things became stressful, Ripper's response had always been to withdraw into himself and stew in his own thoughts, and Ethan's had always been to seek out something intense that would stop him doing exactly that. 'It might do you good, dearheart,' he tried, hoping he kept anything whine-like out of his mental tone.

'Would it?' Rupert asked, humour lacing his thoughts as he kissed Ethan again.

'Yes, it might.' Ethan squirmed slowly half on top of Rupert, making sure his knee was rubbing where it mattered most. 'And in all seriousness, it would surely do us good. When everything seems to hinge on our bond, I can't help but feel a trifle perturbed when we squabble.'

Rupert's hands dropped to Ethan's waist, whether to hold him close or just to stop him squirming, Ethan wasn't sure. 'You know even when we argue, my feelings don't change.'

'Yes, I know,' and at that moment, he truly did, 'but surface irritation could effect the ease with which we work together, which in a hellish place like this could be disastrous.' Ethan pulled back and grinned down at Rupert. 'So see sex as lube, dear, easing the motion of the bond.'

From the other side of the room there came a sound halfway between a cough and a laugh. Ethan rolled his eyes; Ian could have made a little more of an attempt to pretend. He winked at Rupert. 'Pay no attention to the rangy old bird behind the curtain.'

Rupert was looking up at him with such amused affection that Ethan wanted to bask in it. 'It still amazes me how much I love you.'

'Why?' Ethan teased, while nonetheless revelling in the words. 'Do you consider it to be in extraordinarily bad taste?'

'Actually,' Rupert licked at Ethan's lips, 'you taste rather good.'

Oh, and really, how was he meant to resist all this? Clearly, Rupert just wanted to be seduced. The grip on Ethan's hips had eased, so he made the most of that to slip free, moving right over Rupert to straddle him. Ethan grinned down, wriggled in a way that felt just right, to him, at least. Then he dropped down to kiss Rupert deeply.

Rupert kissed him back just as deeply, his hands once again sliding down Ethan's back in a light caress. Rupert was as hard as Ethan was, and things were looking a lot more promising. Ethan allowed some magic to enter their kiss as he rubbed their over-dressed cocks against each other. He reached out for Rupert's arousal patterns and tweaked, ever so slightly, just to rev things up a little.

Rupert responded by his hands clamping down on Ethan's arms hard enough to leave bruises and then rolling them over. Oh yes, this was what Ethan wanted all right. He gave Rupert a fierce smile as their mouths parted briefly, and he squirmed beneath him, moving his hands down to cup Rupert's arse. 'Need you so badly, Ripper,' he sent, partially because Rupert had felt un-needed earlier, but that didn't mean it wasn't true.

'Always have to push things, don't you?' Not that Rupert seemed to be too unhappy about the pushing, judging by the way he was thrusting his hips against Ethan.

'I can't help needing you. It's an intrinsic part of who I am.' Ethan arched up against Rupert. 'And anyway, stop complaining and do that some more, preferably without trousers on.'

'You think I'm going to give in that easily?' And the grin Rupert gave Ethan then was entirely Ripperish.

'Oh, I see.' Well, this could be fun. Ethan twisted Rupert's patterns a little more firmly, making him far more aware of all his skin, especially in certain key areas. 'Do remember, won't you, when you do finally give in, that we have no spare clothes.'

Rupert growled and leant down to kiss him fiercely. 'You're far too certain of yourself.' That was all the warning Ethan got before he felt Rupert's magic firmly encircling the base of his cock.

Ethan froze. He'd thought they'd come to an understanding about doing this. He'd thought Rupert had understood how much he hated it. Maybe Rupert had and was just working through anger at Ethan, but either way, having this done to him in front of Ian was too much. He let his arms drop to the floor and stopped moving. 'All right,' he sent with as little emotion as he could manage, 'You win. No shagging.'

Immediately the magic constricting him disappeared, and Rupert's whole demeanour went from wolfish to concerned. 'That wasn't exactly the reaction I was aiming at.'

'Wasn't it? Consider the last time you did it.' Rupert was still lying on top of him, so all Ethan could turn away was his head.

'You usually try to talk me out of it, but you do that with a lot of these types of play.' Rupert's fingers brushed against his cheek trying to get him to look back.

Obviously Ethan hadn't made his absolute hatred of the ring clear enough after all, and now everything was spoilt. He wrapped his arms back around Rupert and sent wearily, 'Let's go to sleep, dear.'

'No.' Rupert rolled them back over so that Ethan was cradled against his body. 'Not when you're wearing that look on your face.'

'I'm all right, just hold me. You were right about this being unfair to Ian anyway. Will you let me tweak you to help you relax?'

Rupert dropped a gentle kiss on his forehead. 'If you'll talk to me about what's bothering you.'

'Only the obvious. Nothing deep happening here, I'm afraid. I'm as shallow as ever.' It was one thing being an exhibitionist during sex, but talking about emotions to more than one person at a time, even the two men he was closest to, was too much of a challenge.

'Shallow? Ethan, you're one of the deepest, most complicated people I've ever known.'

Ethan laughed quietly. 'I'm upset because I spoiled the sex, Rupert.'

Rupert was silent for a moment, hands moving in small comforting circles on Ethan's back. 'I think that was more a team effort.'

'I know you feel it shouldn't, but it means rather a lot to me. Us shagging, I mean. More than it should.' He nestled closer against Rupert, mouthing softly against his neck.

'It means quite a bit to me as well.' Rupert brought a hand up to comb through Ethan's hair.

'When we have sex, it means everything's right with the world. Nothing terrible can happen while we're still shagging.' Ethan chuckled bitterly at himself, knowing he was voicing childishly simplistic concepts. 'That seems to be what my messed up psyche thinks anyway.'

'It feels sometimes as if you think that if I'm not shagging you, I don't love you,' Rupert sent softly, his hands never stopping their soothing caresses of Ethan's body.

They'd touched on this subject a few days ago in the shower, and Ethan didn't have much more in the way of an answer now. 'It's easier to believe you do when you are, but it's not just about that. It's a more general, more universal thing. If you are fucking me, then there is a God, the good guys –i.e. us– will win, and that generic 'everything' will come out right in the end. Ipso Facto.'

Rupert chuckled, not unkindly. 'Never knew my sexual prowess was so... wide ranging and powerful.'

'Well, now you do. And from now on, only metal cock rings? Please, dearheart.' Ethan kissed and nuzzled Rupert encouragingly.

'Only steel,' Rupert promised. 'Or possibly silk.'

***

A hard floor and a brain that just couldn't stop thinking over the puzzle that they were trapped within ensured that Giles didn't get much rest. Finally giving in to the fact that he wasn't going to get any more, Giles carefully slipped out from under Ethan and walked over to where Ian was sitting.

"I'll take over the watch," he said quietly to the older man. "No use both of us losing sleep."

Ian rubbed a hand over his mouth before answering. "Not much of a sleeper myself, although I may try in a little while." He looked over at Ethan, who was snoring softly. "Don't want our fox to get cold, do we?"

Giles followed his gaze, a fond smile touching his lips as he did so. "Ethan has always been able to sleep anywhere in any conditions."

"But you're more prone to feeling the pea than the mattress?"

He shrugged. "It's difficult for me to turn the brain off sometimes."

Ian harrumphed softly. "I'm sure Ethan would have obliged, if you'd asked. It's just a matter of a few key twists."

"I'm used to it," Giles said with another shrug and a faint smile, in no way revealing that the idea of Ethan twisting his pattern like that still gave him just a bit of unease.

Ian picked up the half-eaten bar of Cadburys from his side, broke a piece off, and passed the bar on to Giles. "There are times when we all have to let go of the tiller and let the river's currents take us where they will."

"I've never found it to be an easy thing to let others steer for me," Giles admitted, breaking off his own piece of chocolate.

"It's a valuable skill. You might find it worth learning one day." Ian stared out into the corridor. "Although from what Ethan tells me, seems like maybe you've started already."

"Ethan tells you a lot, does he?" Giles wasn't sure he wanted to know exactly what Ethan had been saying. Despite the fact that they'd certainly both shared much more than words with Ian, Giles found there were some things he was still reserved about sharing.

Ian turned briefly and winked at Giles. "Don't worry. It'll go to the grave with me." He felt in his coat pocket. "At the risk of introducing unlooked for intimacy, would you care to share some herbal relaxation with me before I take some rest?"

Giles chuckled at the offer; only Ian would have packed a joint or two with him when going into battle. "Why not?" he answered. "Considering the surreality of this place, it may even make it more comprehensible."

Out came the little plastic ziplock bag. Ian liberated one of his thin ready-made joints and lit it with a Swan Vesta, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply. He passed it over to Giles. "Derek had a few problems letting go of the tiller too," he commented casually.

"Did he?" Giles asked, taking a good hit off the joint before passing it back. It occurred to him that this was the first time Ian had ever spoken of Derek directly to him. After their threesome, Ethan had persuaded Ian to share many tales of his past, but without Ethan there to ease the connection, Ian and Giles had remained somewhat reserved with each other.

"Order likes to be in charge too much, I suspect." Ian savoured more smoke before continuing. "Derek would always discuss any big decision with me first, of course. Thing was, he'd keep discussing it, for days if necessary, until I..." He chuckled. "Saw the light."

"Did that method work for him?"

"Usually." Ian flicked a smile at Giles. "Back then, pleasing him was what mattered. No matter how bloody stupid he was being."

"I think we all must go through phases like that," Giles mused, thinking back on how he'd let Ethan talk him into summoning Eyghon.

"We learn best by getting our fingers burnt. Trick is, not losing the fingers in the process." Ian watched Giles take another hit, still smiling in that slight way of his. "You're like him in other ways too."

"This is where you say things that make me blush?" Giles asked as that smile on Ethan was generally accompanied by naughty suggestions.

The smile blossomed into a full grin. "Now there's a challenge."

Giles returned the smile then took another deep hit. "You probably would have found a blush easier to achieve if you hadn't already pulled out the dope."

Ian chuckled. "I was only going to say that you have some of his fire too. It's deeper under the surface with you, takes a lot more delving for anyone not Ethan to find it, but maybe it wasn't always that way?" Ian leant back against the doorframe as he took what was left of the small joint back. "Harriet had something of it too."

The mention of his grandmother brought a nostalgic smile to Giles' face. "She was always something approaching the family's black sheep, at least until I came along. I understand she was quite wild in her youth." He glanced over at Ian. "Meeting you affected her greatly."

Ian looked down. "Keri informed me that I had to meet her as I was an important catalyst in her story. At the time, I wasn't precisely keen."

Giles had never known Ian to be so forthcoming, not even with Ethan there to egg out the confidences. He wondered if the forthrightness had anything to do with Ian's premonition of death. Still, he wasn't above taking advantage of it. "How long after you lost Derek was that?"

Shrugging, Ian said, "Quite a few years. Not something you can get over in a hurry, no matter how many bossy witches you have helping you. Hold onto your Ethan, Rupert, with everything you have and come what may."

Giles looked over at Ethan, who had curled in on himself in his sleep since Giles had moved away. "I intend to. I don't think I could let him go now if I tried."

"It would kill you both," Ian said bluntly. "Your patterns are so linked now that you could not survive their severing. You do know how unusual you both are to have reached this far, don't you? You're a unique pair."

"That's rather refreshing to hear, considering everyone and his prophecy keeps telling us how we're just the latest in a series." Giles shook his head, not sure which he found more appealing. "We've been lucky."

"Very little that happens to any of us is truly random," Ian said with a snort, "and as far as you and your Ethan are concerned, I'm far from sure any of it is. That's the thing with changing from Chaos to pattern magic, you see. You find out that what looked like random disorder is actually a complex network of cause and effect, warp and weft. There is no true Chaos, not in the natural world."

This was as good an opening as any for Giles to be able to venture, "Ethan says you don't think you're going to survive."

Ian smiled. "I'll be back with my Derek soon, yes."

There was a peace and satisfaction Ian's eyes that Giles wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. "You really see it that way, don't you? As a reunion, not an ending."

"You would too, in my position." Ian nodded. "My poor Derek. He's been waiting a very long time."

"You never thought of... joining him sooner?"

"There was a time I hardly stopped thinking about it." Ian patted Giles' knee. "But I had a job to do, and I don't regret the delay. I'd hate to have missed meeting you two."

"Likewise." Giles smiled. "There are very few people with whom Ethan and I would consider passing a night in the old nursery."

"That was some night, that was." Ian grinned. "It was an honour to share with you both."

"It was indeed. Ethan and I used to... share, back in the day, but that was different."

"The young fox makes a very effective splice." Ian seemed to be studying Giles quite closely. "You taste so like him, you know, like Derek. Not identical, but when it has been so long..."

"That's why you avoided me before Ethan and I found each other again," Giles said, remembering what Ethan had shared about the distance Ian had seemed determined to keep between them when Giles had visited the Coven alone. "Because it would have been too easy for us to be drawn together."

"For me, at least." Ian nodded. "I like to think I have quite good self control these days, but there are limits."

"I can see how something could have happened." Giles thought back to his own emotional state during his various visits to Devon; nearly every time he'd been mourning a loss and feeling his aloneness acutely. "You have as much of Ethan in you as I must have of Derek in me."

"Any connection between us at that point would have been rank stupidity." Ian snorted softly and pulled his limbs in closer to himself. "Had I known then what I know now about how you taste, how you feel, I'm not sure even understanding why it was wrong would have stopped me."

"Sometimes ignorance can be bliss," Giles commented, not quite sure what else to say. "Or, at least, a necessity."

Ian was silent for a while, his thoughts apparently elsewhere. Then he exhaled wearily and slowly drew himself to his feet. "Do you mind if I snuggle up to your lover? He's a very companionable presence, even when unconscious."

"He is at that," Giles agreed, casting another fond smile at his Ethan's sleeping form. "Go ahead. As you said, we don't want our fox to get cold."

Ian smiled and clasped a hand to Giles' shoulder briefly before walking over to where Ethan lay and spooning himself behind his fellow pattern mage.