"You know," Giles said later that evening as he picked up yet another book of spells and rituals to go through, "I never realised quite how many ways there were of expelling a spirit or demon before. Possession apparently has been a larger problem throughout the ages than I would have guessed."

"Or simply a harder problem to solve," Ethan suggested dryly from the sofa. "The number of 'solutions' could represent the difficulty in finding one that actually works."

"Yes, well, considering what the current plan of attack consists of, let's hope it doesn't prove to be too difficult." He sat down beside Ethan again, leaning back against the sofa cushions with a weary sigh.

"I'm really not sure all this reading is necessary, dearheart." Ethan put down the book that he'd been holding in his hands; it had been obvious all along that he hadn't actually been reading it. He twisted on the sofa and combed a hand through the hair at Giles' temple. "Unless it helps you relax, which it doesn't seem to be doing."

"I don't think I'll be able to truly relax until this is over," Giles admitted softly, even as he closed his eyes under Ethan's light touch.

He felt an equally light touch of lips on his cheek. "I really don't want to start that argument we were having in the maze dimension again, but as my magic is now entirely improvised, I'm not sure how we could work together on one of these.... recipes." For a man who had once rejoiced in the high ritual of Chaos worship, Ethan was certainly dismissive of formal magic now.

Given Giles' own nature, it probably wasn't a surprise to Ethan that Giles had a harder time letting go of the forms and rituals of magic. "I fear I've been rather too schooled about the importance of being properly prepared to feel comfortable with a plan that is basically 'we'll improvise'."

"We have an outline," Ethan pointed out. "We're not completely without comforting structure."

"Maybe," Giles grudgingly admitted. It still bothered him though.

"Really, Rupert, when we're dealing with quintessential Chaos, being a control freak is setting oneself up for failure. Now, do you want to talk through the outline? Might that make you feel a bit better?"

"It might," Giles allowed, "if the outline actually included some detail on what we're going to do. I don't want–" He stopped when he realised what he had been about to say, and what that meant about why he was feeling so uncomfortable about this.

"What don't you want?" Ethan prompted, fairly gently.

"I don't want to end up standing on the sidelines watching, not knowing what I'm supposed to be doing to help." Like before, he thought, but didn't say.

Ethan pulled back. "When have you ever had to–" He paused. "Oh. This is about me, isn't it? About saving Dawn."

"Yes," he said. It was the truth even if he'd only just realised it.

Ethan pulled a long breath in through his nose and released it. "Rupert, no amount of book reading would have helped you there. What I did, as far as I know, has never been done before."

"I know. I don't want to take away anything from what you did. It was unique and selfless and perhaps one of the greatest feats of magic I've ever witnessed."

There was quietness for a while. A glance at Ethan showed him to be staring into space, a slight frown on his brow. His hand was moving slightly on Giles' leg though, in a reassuring manner. Eventually, Ethan gave himself a little shake. "Do you know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think the problem isn't too much improvisation or too little book-reading. I think the problem is the one we've been learning to deal with since this all started. We should be working together, intimately together, and not thinking about what each of us can do individually."

Giles turned that over in his mind. "I think you might be right," he finally said.

Ethan chuckled and moved closer, snaking an arm around Giles' waist. "We really should have learnt that by now, shouldn't we? I'm sorry. No more magic that doesn't involve you, I promise."

"At the very least, no more big life-threatening magic," Giles replied, sliding an arm around Ethan in turn, feeling better for the promise.

"So," Ethan said leadingly, moving a hand over Giles' chest. "We should probably prepare by becoming more... joined, don't you think?"

Giles chuckled. "You're trying to use our duty to seduce me?" he asked, amused at the notion and feeling the atmosphere lighten with the banter.

"Well, we could do some magic together if you like." Ethan made a show of thinking. "Maybe we could make a rose..."

"One petal at a time?" Giles asked, chuckling again.

"Yes, although I seem to remember progress became much faster after we'd removed our clothes."

"I think that was in spite of us removing our clothes actually."

"I disagree," Ethan said, slipping a hand under Giles' jumper. "I thinking the undressing had a lot to do with the speed at which we finished."

"Somehow I get the feeling we're not talking about the rose anymore," Giles said dryly, making no move to stop Ethan's wandering fingers.

"Probably not," Ethan agreed amiably. "We've got some good memories from this place," he went on, apparently changing the subject somewhat. "It's hard to recall how I felt when I first arrived here. May I take this off?" He lifted the hem of Giles' jumper a little.

"You always seem to be undressing me on this sofa," Giles observed, although he obligingly lifted his arms and sat forward enough for Ethan to pull his jumper off.

"I have no objection to going upstairs," Ethan offered helpfully. "The dogs can't join in, that way." Both dogs were currently asleep near the gas fire, but there was no guarantee they would stay that way, not that Giles hadn't become accustomed to their politely curious stares being directed at him during moments that should be private. Which was proof, he mused, that one could get used to almost anything given enough time and sufficient incentive.

"The bed would probably be more comfortable," he observed.

Ethan slid from the sofa to his feet and held his hand out. "Come on then. Let us seek comfort and each other in cleanish sheets." Giles let Ethan pull him to his feet with only a brief glance at the books he'd been using for research.

When they reached the bedroom however, they both stopped in their tracks. The bed was covered in suitcases and bags, delivered earlier that evening by Matthew. It was all the stuff they'd had to leave at Buckham Hall returned to them. After chatting to Matthew and Pamela, Giles had felt obliged to get on with research, and so he'd forgotten they still had it all to unpack.

Ethan laughed. "We could just push it all onto the floor?"

"It shouldn't take us that long to unpack it all," Giles pointed out reasonably. "After all, it didn't take long for us to pack it up in the first place."

Ethan smiled wryly. "If I can get you to put down your books, I suppose I can be patient for a little while in return." He sat on the edge of the bed and opened one of the bags. "Ah ha. Now I've missed these two." He pulled out first the soft toy badger that he had bought Giles for Christmas and then the fox, its inevitable partner in crime.

Giles smiled, taking the fox from Ethan and unconsciously smoothing its fur. "Packed together, I see, as always."

"Of course. How else would they get to shag?" Ethan sounded perfectly serious and reasonable.

"The sexual habits of cuddly toys has never been a subject I've given much thought to," Giles replied, quirking an eyebrow.

Ethan grinned over at him. "Every fox needs his badger."

Giles met Ethan's gaze for a moment and then looked down at the toy he still held. Silently he reached over and set the fox in Ethan's lap beside the badger. "Every badger needs his fox as well," he said softly, still looking at the toys instead of Ethan's face.

He felt Ethan's hand slide up his cheek to cup his face tenderly. "I'm here."

Giles covered Ethan's hand with his own, looking up and smiling wryly. "Took me long enough to figure out exactly how true that is."

Leaning over, Ethan began to kiss Giles, a slow, deep kiss that showed no immediate signs of stopping, which was more than all right with Giles. He reached out to pull Ethan closer. After a slow motion scramble, during which their lips never parted, Ethan was straddling Giles' thighs.

Giles wrapped his arms around Ethan, relishing the warmth and the weight of his presence. It had always been something good, something important, but since what had happened in the maze and its aftermath, Ethan's presence had become more than that. Touching Ethan, having Ethan close, it had become completely essential, as necessary as breathing was for his continued well being. It was a revelation that coloured everything else in Giles' life, and that was still taking time to get used to.

When their mouths finally parted, Giles drew back a little way. Ethan's eyes were closed, his lips wet and slightly parted, his breath deep and a little fast. "Don't stop," he murmured with a small smile, his eyes remaining shut.

"Never," Giles promised, leaning in to kiss him again.

***

The next day, Ethan was leaning upon the wall by the kitchen door and watching Rupert move around the house determinedly, collecting together bits and pieces for the coming fight. It was strange, he thought, but unlike the last time they had gone through this, before the journey through the maze, this time he himself felt no need to prepare or gather.

Dawn looked up from where she was sitting at Rupert's writing desk, working on... something. "Look at this, both of you!"

"What do you have, Dawn?" Rupert asked, adding a sword to the bag he was putting together and then walking over to where she was sitting. Ethan pushed away from the wall and wandered over as well.

"Look," Dawn repeated. "These are the symbols from the Pilantine casket. We know that this one means Chaos and this one, Order, or at least the crystal matrix. We've all had guesses about the third. So anyway, this is them fitted together as the symbol on the coin that opened the maze door." Ethan nodded, wondering where this was leading.

"They're all related, that much is obvious," Rupert said, looking over Dawn's shoulder at her work.

Dawn nodded. "Well, we thought the coin was a Chaos thing because of where you guys found it, right?"

"Yes," Ethan said slowly, "and it opened the door to the Chaos maze, after all. But I take your point that it has both Chaos and Order within the symbol."

Again, Dawn nodded. "I think we were wrong, and I think the third symbol is for Vaurtain, because look–" She grabbed an open book from under some papers and pointed at the picture upon one of the pages. It did look rather like the third symbol, and the caption underneath it read 'bear'.

Rupert took the book from her to look more closely at the symbol and the information provided there. "I do think you're onto something."

Ethan peered over Rupert's shoulder, trying to discern from what source the symbol came. "Dytriscan? If so, I might have guessed." He shook his head, annoyed at his own failure to discover something so obvious, especially as Harriet Giles' notes had mentioned the Dytriscans and their great bear god.

"We both should have," Rupert said wryly. "I guess we were distracted by the other things we'd discovered."

Dawn beamed, looking rightfully proud. "Well, the coin shows the Vaurtain symbol kind of containing the other two symbols, and I think that means the maze with you two within it. Maybe? What do you think?"

"It makes sense and fits with everything else," Rupert said.

"Where are you going with this, sweetheart?" Ethan asked, feeling certain there was more to come.

She grinned up at him. "That isn't the only way the symbols fit together perfectly. Look at this." She pulled out a sheet of graph paper on which she'd sketched a new version of the amalgamated symbol. The time the symbol for Vaurtain was held within the other two.

"Vaurtain held captive by Order and Chaos combined." Rupert smiled faintly. "I daresay that's encouraging that we're on the right track with what we're planning."

Ethan nodded thoughtfully. The symbols for Order and Chaos had been pretty much imposed onto and into each other in order to create the shape that enclosed the Vaurtain symbol. "That's really quite powerfully interesting, my dear girl. Well done."

"Yes, excellent work, Dawn," Rupert chimed in. "I can see future research efforts are going to be in good hands."

Ethan leant over and shuffled through Dawn's papers until he found a blank sheet. Taking that, her sketches, and one of her pens, he moved away to the sofa, his head full of enticing half-thoughts. He could feel eyes upon him for a long moment before he heard the movement away as Rupert went back to getting ready for the assault.

Some time later, Ethan felt the other side of the sofa sink down, and he looked up and smiled at Rupert, although his thoughts were still full of potent what-ifs. He felt as though he was teetering just on the very brink of epiphany, but for some reason, he was unable to walk that single step further. Where was a small yapping dog to chase him off a cliff-edge when he needed one?

"You look quite engrossed," Rupert commented, with a small smile, resting his arm on the back of the sofa so that his hand brushed the back of Ethan's neck.

"Hmm?" Ethan made himself look at Rupert properly. "Oh, don't tell me it's time to go?"

"Almost. We've a few minutes before we have to meet the others. What are you working on so diligently?"

"Something I think I may have to leave unfinished by the sound of it. Bugger." Ah well, it was probably nothing anyway. "So, hmm, what's the plan when we get there?"

Rupert gave him an exasperated if affectionate look. "This would be the outline you were so keen to emphasise yesterday," he pointed out. "You would know it if you had actually paid attention during the strategy meeting."

Ethan grinned in what he hoped was a loveable and ingratiating way. "There was something about Slayers, I believe."

"The Slayers will attack, keep Vaurtain's forces busy and distracted, while Willow, Dawn, you and I go after Vaurtain directly," Rupert explained with exaggerated patience. "Willow's job is to cast and hold the wards to keep Vaurtain contained in a small area with us. Our job is to exorcise him from Francesca and force him into the Chaos pouch."

"Right. I remembered the pouch bit anyway." He craned his head around to look for Dawn, but she no longer seemed to be in the house, or at least, not downstairs. His pattern senses quickly told him she was in Megan's bedroom, which she'd been borrowing, so he sent his next thought to Rupert telepathically. 'I'm not at all happy with the idea of Dawn being in the thick of the battle against Vaurtain. With the Travers bitch doing the driving, he'll aim directly at her rather than at us. I think I can handle the pouch safely enough...'

"No," Rupert said out loud in a firm, brook no arguments voice, but he switched to thoughts himself before continuing. 'You're going to need all your attention and strength for what we need to do; you won't have any to spare to shield yourself enough to hold the pouch. Dawn, because of who and what she is, can hold it without that danger. She's been involved in apocalyptic battles before; she can handle herself.'

Ethan shook his head fiercely. "Not unless she has considerable protection," he hissed aloud before continuing mentally. 'He/she/it will use Dawn against us otherwise. They'll see her as our Achilles heel, our loose scale. I didn't save her only in order for her to die now, fighting our battles.'

'They'll be seeing wrong then. Dawn is not as vulnerable as you seem to think.' Rupert held up a hand to forestall more arguments. 'But we can ask Willow to cast extra wards around her if it makes you feel better.'

Ethan frowned. "I want at least two Slayers with her at all times, as well."

"That will be more targets in the line of fire," Rupert pointed out, although the argument made little sense to Ethan. Weren't they all going to be in the line of fire anyway?

"Slayers have the strength, speed and senses to survive it,"

he pointed out.

"But not the natural immunity to Chaos that Dawn has." Rupert closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he seemed to be trying to regain his composure. "All of this was debated and discussed, and the plan we decided upon has the best chance for success with the least amount of risk."

"Don't tell me that she won't even have Buffy to protect her!"

"Who's 'she'?" asked Dawn from the stairs. Bugger, when had they started to speak out loud?

"We're just going over our plan of attack," Rupert put in smoothly.

Ethan sighed and drew himself to his feet. 'I'm not happy about this,' he sent to Rupert. He should have paid more attention to the planning, he knew, but more than three Watchers in a room at one time was a better soporific than a handful of valium. "Time to go, sweetheart," he said to Dawn. "All ready?"

"Yeah." Dawn was looking at him suspiciously. "You were talking about me, weren't you?"

Ethan nodded as he wasn't about to lie to the girl. He bent to pet Skunk who had appeared from somewhere as soon as he'd stood up. "Where's the pouch?" he asked Dawn.

"In my pack with the crystal matrix," she replied, lifting the knapsack that she was carrying by the arm band. "Why?"

"Just wanted to make sure that you had it," he replied, more or less truthfully. He went to the coat peg and grabbed his new jacket and Rupert's old one. "Let's get going then."

Skunk growled.

Rupert looked down at Skunk then up at Ethan, with a raised eyebrow. "Objections from the canine contingent of our group?"

Skunk barked, and Ethan stared at her. "What's wrong, girl?" She barked again in response.

"If this were an old movie, she'd be trying to tell us Timmy fell down the well," Dawn offered helpfully.

"She's certainly trying to tell me something," Ethan agreed. "Might be more helpful if you showed me instead," he told his dog. Immediately, she turned and scampered upstairs.

"Follow that dog," Rupert murmured under his breath as they went after her.

They found her in the bedroom, sat in front of the bedside cabinet on Ethan's side of the bed. When she saw Ethan enter the room, she lifted her forequarters to scrabble on the locked and warded drawer.

Rupert exchanged looks with Ethan. "Considering what we keep in there, that's rather... disturbing."

"Yes... Dawn, would you mind waiting outside please?" Ethan walked over and sat on the edge of the bed by the cabinet. Dawn looked between them and then left without saying anything.

Skunk whined and scrabbled some more, and Ethan had to push her aside to break the wards and open the drawer. He looked inside, shrugged, and then pulled the drawer all the way out, emptying the contents on the bed. Skunk immediately jumped up, landing within it all.

"I have mentioned how disturbing this is, haven't I?" Rupert asked, looking at Skunk sitting amidst the toys and other things that they considered not for public view. She had her paw on Harriet's magic makeup box, Ethan noticed. He reached out and slipped it from under her. Skunk immediately stood, barking and wagging her tail rapidly. "Makeup?" Rupert frowned. "That's what all this fuss is about?"

Ethan ran his fingers over the old wood of the box and felt a small shiver go through him. "Yes. Yes, this is what all the fuss is about. Well done, girl. Very well done indeed." He stood up suddenly. "Right. We can't waste another moment. We need to get there now."

Rupert looked at him. "That's it?"

"Yes, she pushed me over." He paused to hug his very very good dog indeed. "Clever sweetheart. Wonderful girl."

"You are, I trust, going to start making sense eventually."

"Perfect, world-stopping sense with a bit of luck." He grinned at Rupert. "Or at least, bear-stopping. Come on, move. Move!"

Rupert continued to look at him dubiously, even as they started back down the stairs.

Gwydion and Dawn waited for them at the bottom, looking interested and hopeful. "Door, now!" Ethan chivvied, waving his free hand in a shooing gesture. "We need to be there five minutes ago."

"Not literally, I hope," Dawn said as she allowed herself to be shooed outside. "We're good, but not time-travel good."

"Oh, I don't know." Ethan laughed. Well, all right, maybe it was more of a giggle, but he had good reason. "Today, we may even be that good."

The five crammed into Rupert's car, and then they were on their way.