Giles paused for a moment before signing his name with a flourish on the last file ever to cross his desk as Head Watcher.

"Well done, dear," Ethan said from where he was perched on the edge of the desk. He bent down enough to kiss Giles' cheek.

"I think I've signed more papers in the last two weeks than I did all the rest of the time I was in charge," Giles said wryly, leaning back in his chair and letting his gaze roam around the room. It was barer than he was used to seeing it; all of his personal effects had been boxed up the day before and added to the growing pile at Mountbatten. This was his official last day at the office, and by the end of the next fortnight, they would be moving all of those boxes west to their new home and business.

A new start.

Unfortunately, that meant that this week had been taken up with a number of endings, and while he was looking forward to the future, that didn't stop Giles feeling a bit wistful at leaving parts of his old life behind.

Ethan rubbed the side of his leg against Giles'. "We've got a little while before this formal goodbye do of yours. Do you want to take a walk? I'm getting the feeling that hanging around here is making you melancholy." He slipped from the table. "We can steal some files if you like. That way, if withdrawal gets too bad, you can sniff them or add a note or two."

"You," Giles began fondly, reaching out and taking Ethan's hand and pulling him down onto his lap, "are a bad influence."

Cupping Giles' face, Ethan beamed. "Thank you, dearheart. Lovely of you to say that even now." He kissed Giles.

Giles kissed him back with enthusiasm. When they parted, he sighed and admitted, "It is difficult to realise this is all ending today. It's been a large part of my life for a very long time."

"Well, apart from when poor old Frannie's father gave you the sack that time." Ethan stroked fingers through Giles' hair at his temple.

Francesca Travers was being given the best private care money could buy at a top London psychiatric hospital; it was unlikely she'd ever fully recover. Giles frowned a little at the thought. "I was still a Watcher then. Just... freelance."

Ethan nodded. "And now you're you."

That, Giles thought, was the most succinct way of putting where he was after the last decade's journey. "Yes," he said with a small smile. "Now I'm me." He paused and touched Ethan's face. "And you're you."

Ethan nipped at Giles' lips with his own before replying. "Yes, I suppose I am. When did that happen?"

"Five months ago from last Tuesday," Giles joked, deadpan. He kissed Ethan and then added in all seriousness, "It's like in that dream we shared about the costume trunk in the attic. You just had to trust enough to take off the masks."

"Maybe." Ethan gave Giles a soft smile. "Or perhaps I am no longer the person who was hiding behind the masks."

Giles shook his head. "You've always been the person you are now, deep down. Even if it was so deep down you couldn't see it."

"I don't feel the same." Ethan looked down, his eyes unfocusing as if he were looking within. "I feel quite different. Before I was, hmm, running. Always running."

"While I was doing my best to hide," Giles admitted, thinking back on his own past and how much of it he'd spent denying parts of himself because he was frightened of them.

Ethan grinned suddenly. "I ran until you came out of your den to growl at the hounds and chase them off. Then I was able to stop."

Giles smiled, caught by the whimsy of Ethan's metaphor. "Is that what I did?"

The grin faded back into the soft smile. "Well, they've gone, so I think you must have." Ethan kissed Giles again.

"Aside from the two hounds sleeping in the corner over there," Giles said, nodding towards where Gwydion and Skunk were curled up around each other.

"They are friend, not foe."

"And only chase you when you have their food dish."

"They will adore Clarendon Comfrey. London isn't a place for dogs. Not really." Ethan pulled back enough to undo the first button of Giles' waistcoat. They were both dressed in their smartest clothes today for the formal retirement buffet. The clothes were giving the whole day a slight funereal feel however.

"It isn't," Giles agreed, looking over towards the dogs again; Gwydion was nearing his full height now and was quite obviously oversized for their small house on Mountbatten. "Much more leg room for everyone at our new place."

"And rabbits," Ethan reminded. Over in the dog's basket, Skunk raised her head.

"This rabbit thing is becoming something of a fixation," Giles observed dryly.

"Well, certainly you accusing me of that seems to be becoming a habit." Ethan stuck his tongue out.

"Oh yes, very mature." But Giles couldn't hide his smile as he leant in for another kiss, and as their mouths touched, Ethan undid another button of the waistcoat. Giles raised an eyebrow when Ethan pulled back. "Something you want?"

Ethan raised his brows in turn. "Me? No. Nothing." He undid the final button and stroked his hand up Giles' shirtfront.

"So your undressing of me would be...? A nervous twitch?"

"You still look lamentably dressed to me." Ethan undid the shirt button just below the knot of Giles' tie.

"Yes, I generally am at the office." It was taking Giles a great deal of effort not to give in and smile. Ethan undid another button and then bent to lick at Giles' chest through the gap he'd made; a slight tingle of magic was left as his tongue passed over Giles' skin. Giles shifted in his chair at that sensuous touch. "I really don't know, Ethan, if this is something that we..."

"Shh," Ethan said. "We're upholding tradition here." He undid another button and tugged at one side of the shirt, freeing it enough to reach Giles' nipple with his tongue.

"Still, I don't think..." Giles began dubiously, but lost his train of thought under Ethan's caress.

After another couple of buttons, Ethan was kissing and then nibbling gently at the nipple, just scraping the edge of his teeth around it. There was a trace of magic in every contact. He was pretty much curled up in Giles' lap in order to reach, but that didn't seem to be bothering him; Giles' luxury executive chair prevented him from falling. "I think you should take me," Ethan said between nibbles, "over your desk to celebrate our last opportunity for doing that... or maybe I should take you."

Giles' brain obligingly provided images to go with Ethan's words, and he closed his eyes to try to keep control. "I, uh... I don't think that would be..." He broke off with a groan as Ethan's clever fingers found their way to the front of his trousers.

"Come on, husband," Ethan urged, the heel of his hand making it very difficult for Giles to think at all. "You know no one dares enter this room without a whole Chinese tea ceremony's worth of knocking first. We're safe, and this landmark day deserves to be noticed."

"I'm not going to be able to say no, am I?" Giles asked wryly.

"Am I that irresistible?" Ethan grinned, slipping from Giles' lap. "Good!" He held out his hand. "Think about the memory I'm now going to give you of this place. It will be a much better last memory than signing papers, I promise."

Giles was aware he'd already made up his mind before he admitted it aloud. "I suppose I should give you a chance to keep that promise," he said, reaching out and taking Ethan's outstretched hand. Ethan pulled him up and then into an embrace, kissing him slowly but passionately.

Ethan taking control like this was still rather novel, although becoming less so as time went on. Giles was fairly certain, however, that he'd always find it incredibly arousing, just as he did now. The kiss grew steadily harder, more possessive, Ethan's hands holding Giles on the back of his neck and on his arse. Giles' mouth was invaded by a thrusting tongue while hard fingers pressed into his buttocks.

Then suddenly, Ethan drew back. He was breathing heavily and gave Giles a predatory look. "Oh, you are going to remember this," he said, taking hold of Giles' hips and turning him around to face the desk.

"I'm not finding that difficult to believe," Giles replied, his voice rough with arousal. He moved as Ethan guided him, trying to relax tense muscles. This, giving in and letting Ethan have control, was getting easier for him as time went on as well, but it still was something he had to consciously work at.

He felt Ethan close behind him; a hardness pressing into his arse and heavy breath at his ear as Ethan's hands reached around to unclip Giles' braces and unfasten his trousers. As they fell down, hands sparking with magic pushed under the waistband of Giles' boxers.

Giles groaned and moved into the touch without thought, wanting more.

The wonderful hands wrapped around him for a few seconds, stroking and tugging gently, but then they were gone, and Giles' boxers were suddenly down around his knees. "You really should step out of all these impedimenta, dear," Ethan said, sounding both amused and aroused. "We don't want anything resisting access, do we?"

"Or to get ripped or stained," Giles murmured, imagining the reactions if he showed up to his formal goodbye obviously rumpled and... ripped or stained.

Ethan crouched, helping Giles out of the fallen clothes. While he was down there, he started stroking his hands up Giles' thighs, kissing the back of them, and after lifting the shirt tails, licking up to Giles' buttocks. "Had I been interested in fair turn around, this smart dress suit of yours would be nothing but frayed rags by now."

"The thought had crossed my mind," Giles admitted, turning his head to look down at Ethan. "Although considering you actually picked out this suit, I was trusting to your affection for fine clothing."

Ethan grinned up at Giles before sliding a hand up his back and pushing. "Bend over, if you'd please."

Giles complied with the request, remarking, "Almost sounds like something said to naughty school boys when they visit the headmaster's office."

"Have you been naughty then?" Giles felt Ethan push his shirt up further. "Pray, do confess." Hands gripped his hips while a hard wet tongue licked just a little between his buttocks.

Giles chuckled, the sound emerging a little breathless. "First thing I learnt at school, never admit to anything for which they don't have proof."

"Oh, a sound strategy," Ethan said, before using his hands to part Giles' arse cheeks. "But then, they didn't have my persuasion techniques, I imagine." Giles shuddered almost violently as Ethan's face pressed to him and a tongue dripping magic was dragged over his most sensitive skin.

"Oh God..." he all but squeaked, his hands gripping the edges of the desk in a white knuckled grip. One thing that had never changed from the moment they'd met – no one could drive Giles crazy faster than Ethan could. It was just the methods that varied.

Ethan chuckled, the sound blowing soft puffs of air against Giles' flesh. Then the tongue started again, swirling and pressing, dragging and gently poking. It was maddening, arousing, wonderful... and not nearly enough. Giles groaned and pushed his hips back, spreading his legs wider in a mute demand for more.

Ethan pulled back enough to ask, "Want something, dearest?" before going back to work.

"For you to get on with it?" Giles gasped out in reply, the words coming out as more of a question than a statement. The only answer he got to that was Ethan's tongue poked inside him and a hand curling round to wrap tightly around his cock. Both fed him magic.

Giles made a sound halfway between a groan and a strangled shout. "Bloody hell, Ethan..." There was another chuckle pressed against his skin.

Ethan kept this torture up for a few breathless, maddening minutes, in which, Giles realised, he stood no chance of being allowed to come. He'd begun to be able to recognise now when Ethan was making fast and loose with his patterns.

Just as Giles felt certain he could no longer hold back the yell that would bring God knows who running into the room, Ethan let go and pulled back. "There. That was a nice appetiser. Now for the main course."

"I'm almost afraid to ask." Giles tried for a dry tone, but his voice was too rough and breathless for him to be able to pull that off.

He felt Ethan stand behind him, Ethan's hands gentling Giles a little, sliding up inside Giles' shirt and down his flanks. "You seem a little shaky, dear. Do try to relax." Then the hands were withdrawn, and there was the easily identifiable noise of Ethan's trousers being undone.

Relax? Giles snorted at the thought. Not when his entire nervous system was thrumming in anticipation of what Ethan was about to do as much as from what Ethan had already done.

One hand grabbed his hip and a hardness intruded between his buttocks, pressing against him. "Want this?" Ethan asked, his voice low. "I do."

A shiver went through Giles at the question. "You know I do." He felt a surge of Ethan's magic enter him, followed by the stretch of Ethan's cock. "Oh God..." Giles groaned at the sensation.

"Ripper, Christ," Ethan muttered, and then immediately began to thrust, gripping Giles' hips tightly.

Giles' world instantly narrowed down to Ethan and what they were doing, and he lost himself in it. He was hyperaware of everything about Ethan: the way his breath was catching as he moved, the way his fingers tightened on Giles' hips with every thrust, even the warmth of his body pressed against him.

After a while, Ethan paused, buried deep inside Giles. He moved his hands roughly over Giles' body. "No more offices for you, my husband. No more futile pushing of paper. You're better than this, you are. You're so much bloody better." He adjusted his angle slightly and began to move again, shoving almost viciously into Giles.

Giles wanted to argue the point –the work he'd done from this office had been vital– but at the moment he was fairly convinced he wouldn't be able to string two coherent words together. Not with Ethan fucking him so hard and fast that he found himself whimpering from the heady pleasure.

"God, Ripper, I love being inside of you." There was a pained wonder in Ethan's voice, but Giles didn't have time to appreciate it before a hand was sliding around in front of him and wrapping around his cock once more.

Any remaining thoughts Giles might have had vanished in that second as he felt Ethan relax the tight hold he'd kept on Giles' pattern. At the same time, Ethan sparked magic through the fingers wrapped around Giles' cock. White-hot pleasure obliterated everything, and Giles came with his lover's name on his lips.

After a little while, Giles was vaguely aware of Ethan moving back and a feeling of sudden emptiness inside him. Then hands were on him, pulling him back and then down. To Giles' great surprise, he found himself sitting on Ethan's lap in his own office chair.

Giles blinked at this role reversal and then started chuckling. It was odd, but also oddly right somehow.

Ethan's smug smile disintegrated into giggles. "You're bloody heavy, you know, dearheart," he said when he could. "I can't imagine why you seem to like me sitting on you so much."

"I think I have a couple of stone on you," Giles pointed out, still chuckling himself. "Do you want me to get up?"

"No," Ethan said immediately, clasping Giles closely to him. "Stay." Giles, who was still feeling quite boneless, was quite happy to comply. Ethan played a hand lightly over Giles' leg. "That really was rather nice, dearheart. Thank you for letting me have my wicked way with you."

"You were very persuasive."

Ethan was quiet for a while although his hand kept slowly stroking. Then he laughed. "So how come I never knew about this naughty boy and headmaster kink then?"

Giles shrugged. "I guess it just never came up. Although," he continued thoughtfully, "it's not like the dynamic hasn't been present in our sexlife before. But usually, you are the one to take on the persona of the naughty boy."

Ethan giggled again. "Well, that is more me, don't you think? So it is a kink then? I was making an apparently astute guess. Oh Rupert, my dear. The things I could do with this." He sounded decidedly evil.

Oh dear. "Just be aware that turnabout is fair play," Giles finally warned, knowing that it wouldn't dampen Ethan's enthusiasm at all.

"Well, exactly." Ethan grinned hugely. "And just think of all the fair turnabout I've built up in our times together." He nuzzled against Giles' ear and whispered, "Your poor, sore behind..."

Which for some reason sent Giles off into laughter again.

***

Ethan surreptitiously dropped a vol-au-vent into Skunk's open mouth and grinned as she gulped it down. She seemed to be enjoying them a lot more than he was.

He brushed a fleck of food from his Armani trousers. He'd probably eaten too much, actually, but it wasn't as if there were many other ways of occupying himself during this official goodbye do of Rupert's. It was fitting though that the Council were seeing Rupert off in the same suffocating tradition in which they'd wanted him to live.

Well, no more. And however much he'd changed, Ethan couldn't help a small sly smile every time he thought of that. He'd won. It had taken him a few decades, for sure, but the Council had lost, and Ethan had won. Rupert was his, his forever. God, that felt good. Good with all the depth and near on religious meaning he could give to the word.

Dull grey men and women milled about talking quietly in groups. Ethan looked around them with amused disbelief – nobody has died, you lifeless sods. Wake up! But this was good too, the contrast it gave would be salutary for Rupert, should he start to doubt his decision. Life was away from here where they could breathe, where they could be together. Life was where there was colour and growing things, and where people dared raise their voice in mirth without having a whole boardroom full of librarian types instantly frowning at them.

Ethan sensed someone looking at him and quickly located Pamela across the room. She nodded at him, and he smiled back. All right, time to drag his no doubt slightly down-in-the-mouth husband out of this place for the last time.

Without looking around for Rupert first, Ethan mooched straight to his side. His awareness of Rupert had been close to instinctive since the day that they'd joined. He knew where Rupert was without thinking and almost as much about Rupert's body as he knew about his own without looking at deep patterns. He knew when Rupert was tired or hungry, tense or horny.

Right now, he seemed weary. Ethan slipped his hand into Rupert's, and ignoring the people Rupert had been in conversation with, he said, "Time to go home. Andy and Teddy have to say bye-bye." Gwyddion, who'd been hunkered down at Rupert's feet, immediately stood and looked towards the door.

Rupert smiled at Ethan then turned back to the conversation he'd been having. "It seems I'm being dragged off," he said wryly.

The man he was talking to –Higgins, Ethan remembered, one of Rupert's staunchest allies on the Council– smiled. "Can't say we won't miss you, old boy. You've done more to reorganise the Watchers than anyone, but if anybody deserves to enjoy their retirement..." He held out a hand to Rupert, who took it in a firm handshake. "Don't worry about us here; we'll keep on the path you set us upon."

Ethan tugged Rupert's other hand while smiling politely at Higgins. Rupert didn't move. "I'm sure you will," Rupert replied. "I wouldn't be able to leave if I didn't think the Council was in good hands."

Ethan began to think cheerfully about playing with the patterns of Rupert's bladder. "Come along, dear. I want to get to the shops before they close." It was possible he wasn't being very patient, but then, better not give the old bugger a chance to delay and maybe begin questioning his decision.

Higgins grinned at them both and waved them off. "Go on. Make your escape while you can."

Ethan turned and began to walk away, pulling hard on Rupert's hand. "Trot, trot, dearheart."

Rupert laughed as he let Ethan pull him off. "You're certainly in a hurry."

"I want to get you away from this place before it finds a way to get its claws back into you." Ethan flashed a strained smile at Rupert. "We're nearly at the door. No speaking to anyone now."

"It's a bit undignified to be fleeing from a party in my honour as if it were an illustri demon horde." Rupert slowed down.

Bugger. A tall female Watcher was approaching. Oh hell, and a couple of blokes from the other side. They would never get out at this rate. In desperation, Ethan sent, 'Please Rupert? Come now? I can't breathe in here.'

'We are leaving,' Rupert pointed out, gesturing at the progress they'd made toward the door.

'Now!' Ethan didn't have to exaggerate the urgency in his mental tone as the woman reached them.

"Ah, Mr Giles. Leaving already? I'd rather hoped that we–"

"I'm afraid we're off now," Rupert replied smoothly. "If it's anything Council-related, I suggest you talk to Chris Higgins; I'm not in charge any longer." As he spoke, he kept them moving towards the door.

Yes, better. Thank God. Ethan knew it had to be psychosomatic, but he really was feeling just a little light-headed. Anyway, if he looked slightly ill that would help Rupert leave early without appearing rude. He leant just a little on Rupert as Rupert got them both through the door and into the corridor beyond.

Once they were away from the room, Rupert paused and looked at Ethan. "Why the rush to leave anyway? I know it wasn't the most exciting of parties, but–"

"Well, I really do need to get to the shops," Ethan said weakly. "And I really do need to get out of here too."

"It's not as if I'm going to change my mind, you realise," Rupert said a bit more gently.

"The longer we stay here, the more chance there is they'll find something that just has to have you to sort it." Ethan tried to get them moving again.

"Ethan." Rupert stilled both of them and met Ethan's gaze. "It doesn't matter what they find. I'm not changing my mind."

Ethan smiled rather fixedly as Pamela appeared behind Rupert, saw them, gave a pained grin, and backed off on tiptoe. "Shops, dearheart? Please?"

"What do we need to go to the shops for?" Rupert asked, but obligingly fell back into step with Ethan as they made their way down the hallway.

"I'm cooking tonight," Ethan claimed blithely. "Special celebration meal."

"So we'll be stopping by the local fire station and putting them on standby as well then?"

"Bad boys get no delicious suppers," Ethan promised, relieved as they neared the door that led to the car park. "Although I can think of other things they might get instead."

"Why don't we eat out tonight to celebrate?" Rupert suggested. "Someplace where you can scandalise the other patrons?"

Oh for... "You're hurting my feelings now, Rupert," Ethan said as he pushed open the heavy door to the outside world.

Rupert shrugged. "It's not that I'm against your forays into cooking really. I just rather had the idea of us going out and being decadent tonight." He paused in the doorway and looked back. "So that I don't think about leaving so much." He shook his head and started walking again before Ethan could prod him. "I'd have suggested taking everybody out with us if they weren't all either out of the country or otherwise occupied."

"Yes, this really is badly timed, all in all," Ethan said, hoping he wasn't speaking the truth. "All right, if you wish to reject my cooking, we can go out. But we still need to go to the shops at least briefly."

"All right," Rupert agreed easily enough.

Thanks be for small mercies. "I'll drive," Ethan said, holding his hands out for the keys. Just to make sure that there would be no further detours from plan.

Again Rupert easily agreed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his keys before handing them to Ethan without argument. In fact, he seemed on the brink of sinking into one of those thoughtful silences that hardly ever boded well for his mood. Damn. Oh well, Ethan would get them moving, at least.

After the dogs were fastened into the back, the humans into the front, Ethan started the car. "Any last words?" he asked, pausing before driving off.

Rupert looked out through the windshield at the building for a long moment then shook his head. "I think everything that's needed to be said has been said."

Ethan drove out into the traffic, deciding to leave Rupert with his thoughts for a little while. A glance to the backseat via the mirror showed Giddy looking rather doleful too. Oh dear. Well, maybe a little dismal was just what was needed currently, as preparation.

"It's hard to believe I'm done with it," Rupert commented after a few minutes. "It's all been so... quiet. Somehow I always pictured my leaving the Watchers as something a bit more..."

"I don't know," Ethan said, but he said it gently as he did sympathise. "It seemed just what I would expect from a gathering of Watchers."

"That's part of it. I guess I always pictured less old school Watcher and more... Sunnydale alumnae insanity." Rupert smiled slightly. "Have I ever told you about the send-off they gave me the first time I left?"

"Left Sunnydale? No. Do tell."

"I tried to sneak away unnoticed. Just left a note and headed for the airport. But they showed up there, complete with large sign with balloons and small trinkets, some truly disgusting mass-produced fruit pies, and a little monster finger puppet." Rupert smiled again. "I still have the puppet somewhere."

Ethan found he could imagine it very well. "There is something to be said for American sentimentality, is there not?"

"Indeed. Of course, Willow was raising the dead before my plane had even landed at Heathrow, but..."

Ah yes, Willow. "It's a shame she had to go back to America before we had more time to talk. I found it hard to recognise that scared little ghost I first met in that very powerful witch who helped us boot bear-arse to kingdom come."

"She's certainly grown into a confident and talented young woman," Rupert agreed. "They all have changed and grown so much from when I first met them."

"Your influence has had a lot to do with that, I'm sure." Ethan reached out briefly to pat Rupert's leg. "Your legacy is impressive."

Rupert smiled, obviously pleased at the pronouncement even as he ducked his head. "They changed me just as much," he admitted.

"I hope they all visit the Fox and Badger frequently," Ethan said thoughtfully, indicating to turn into the small carpark by the Tesco Express. "Things are rather quiet without any of them about currently, don't you think?"

"I suppose it's something we'll have to get used to. I'm not sure I ever did though when I first came back to England."

Ethan didn't answer immediately as he was psyching out a contender for the one remaining parking space using his best psychopathic smile, the one that communicated a willingness to destroy car and limb to get what he wanted and probably in interesting and spectacularly sadistic ways too. He won the space, of course.

"They will visit, won't they?" he asked as he put the handbrake on and stopped the engine.

"I'm sure they will," Rupert said, undoing his seatbelt. "When they can find the time. So as long as the schedule remains apocalypse-light..."

Ethan gave Rupert an appraising look. "That was not exactly dripping with optimism, dear."

Rupert smiled. "As Buffy was often fond of pointing out back when she was in high school, apocalypses tend to interfere with one's social life."

"Our friends will come," Ethan said firmly, getting out of the car. He waited until Rupert was also out before adding, "Or at least they'll try to. I'm expecting many calls along the line of 'help, we're lost in the wilds of some place called glue-chester-shy-er'."

That pulled a chuckle out of Rupert. "It wouldn't surprise me at all. Xander is still complaining about everyone driving on the wrong side of the road. Although I think it's more now because it's expected of him than any lingering confusion."

They opened the back doors long enough to reassure their dogs that they'd be back soon and then locked up and headed to the shop. Ethan grabbed a trolley and grinned at Rupert.

"We had to leave to get to the shops before they closed?" Rupert made a show of looking around. "And that would be this shop that is open 24 hours...?"

"Ah, but thanks to your cruel and unreasonable lack of faith, I'm not cooking anymore," Ethan pointed out, being ready for the objection. "Therefore I no longer need to get to the specialist Thai shop." He started adding things to the trolley more or less at random. It was the shopping method he preferred. It was entirely coincidental that it was also the shopping method that drove Rupert most crazy.

Watching the assortment of items accumulating in the trolley, Rupert said exasperatedly, "If we needed to go shopping, that would imply that we're after specific items."

"I don't see why," Ethan said cheerfully, trying to decide between a packet of plain couscous and a box flavoured with lemongrass and lime. "I'm just refreshing the paint palette here. The cupboards were looking rather bare. Good cooking is, I'm convinced, the art of the happy coincidence. This is me stacking the odds."

"We are packing up to move in a couple of weeks," Rupert reminded him. "Cupboards looking rather bare is probably what we're aiming for. Less to pack that way."

Ethan waved his hand dismissively after dropping both kinds of couscous into the trolley. "Oh, there'll be plenty of room in the van."

Rupert reached in and pulled out one of the boxes and put it back on the shelf. "That still is more to pack and unpack."

"Isn't that Harabald over there?" Ethan asked, staring with a slight frown towards the far end of the aisle... and when Rupert looked, as he was only human, after all, Ethan slipped the box back into the trolley, which he wheeled forward. "Come along now. Let's get this done."

"Someone is certainly trying for the part of naughty school boy," Rupert observed dryly.

Ethan's mobile phone chose that moment to play 'Hit Me Baby One More Time'. He giggled as he unhooked it from his belt to view the text message the noise announced. "I knew I chose that ringtone for a reason."

"I'll restrain myself from making a comment on that."

Ethan read the message and quickly cleared it from the screen. "Ah, apparently I've won all sorts of wondrous goodies which I'll find out about if I immediately call this ultra-premium number." He returned the phone to his belt. "Ah well." He looked up to find Rupert staring at him speculatively. Oops. Ethan was making a bit of a pig's ear of this; he could tell. He needed a solid distraction and now. He let his face fall into a pensive frown. "Rupert?"

"Yes?" Oh yes. That was definitely a suspicious look.

"You have... I mean, you mentioned apocalypses. What are you going to do the next time one comes around?" It was worryingly easy to 'fake' this insecurity.

Rupert gave an elegant shrug. "We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. If an apocalypse shows up on our doorstep... Well, I doubt either of us would be able to ignore it," he said with painful honesty. He moved closer and brushed a hand against Ethan's arm. "But I'm not going to be seeking them out."

Ethan looked down.

"I sincerely doubt many apocalypses are going to find their way to our doorstep in Clarendon Comfrey," Rupert continued, obviously trying to lighten the conversation. "They're more likely to get lost in the middle of 'glue-chester-shy-er'."

That made Ethan chuckle in spite of himself. He looked up and gave Rupert a rueful grin. "I've rather gone off shopping now. Can we just pay and go?"

"Of course." Rupert waited a few beats before adding, "And we can put that extra box of couscous back on the way."

"You can put it all back if you like," Ethan said, making sure there was just a hint of glum in his voice.

"Far be it for me to curtail your hobbies. Just the one box will be sufficient."

A little later, they were back out at the car, putting their bags in the boot. Ethan gave Skunk a hug for being good before getting back into the driver's seat. "It's not that I don't trust you, you know," he said, before starting up the engine. "It's just that I know I don't deserve this. So every once in a while I find I'm ducking, imagining the other shoe is on its way."

Rupert just looked at him for a minute. "Ethan, you do remember the part where we pretty much saved the world? Don't you think that means you deserve some happiness?"

"In a world as prone to apocalypse as this one, that just makes me one of a crowd." Ethan snorted softly and let out the handbrake, heading back to the road.

"I see I still have my work cut out for me," Rupert murmured.

Well, that distraction had certainly worked. The only problem was that now Ethan really was feeling a little, well, anxious maybe. "Let's change the subject," he announced. "Have you set an opening date yet?"

"Can't very well do that without consulting you," Rupert pointed out, going with the topic change easily. "Besides, that will depend on how long it takes to refurbish and settle in."

"I'm looking forward to receiving the brewery reps."

"Do try to remember we need to foster an ongoing relationship with them."

"Oh, absolutely. I was thinking of insisting on a tour of premises for each one we're interested in." Ethan shot a grin at Rupert.

"Oh dear."

"Oh, my dear, you are worrying over nothing." Ethan patted Rupert's leg. "You see, I can organise a piss up in a brewery. You'll see."

The talking of plans for the pub occupied the rest of the drive back and also served to lighten both their moods somewhat; it seemed difficult to stay down when thinking about how bright their future was.

Ethan parked the car in their usual spot, thanking, not for the first time, his foresight back in pre-pattern magic days in enchanting this spot. He hoped the new residents –Megan and Xander in fact, with their respective partners when available– would appreciate the always available parking space. It was particularly obvious today, considering how packed their street was. Ethan could only hope Rupert didn't look too closely at any of the cars.

"Come on, dearheart," he said, smiling at Rupert to keep his attention on him. "Let's have a cuppa while we plan where to go eat." Ethan patted Rupert's leg and then got out of the car to start the process of releasing the dogs. Gwydion seemed uncharacteristically restless now they were stopped, his sharp-muzzled face pointing eagerly at their front door.

"Someone seems happy to be home," Rupert commented as he moved around to the boot to get the groceries they'd bought.

"Hmm," Ethan said, trying to sound thoughtful. "Maybe Megan's back early from her endurance training course."

"That would be a pleasant surprise." Rupert sounded a bit wistful. Rupert had, Ethan thought, really been feeling the lack of, well, everyone bar Ethan himself this last week. Poor old sod.

Once the dogs were on the pavement and the boot shut, Ethan beeped the car locked, and they headed for the door. After opening it, Ethan let the dogs and Rupert go in front of him into the cramped, dark lobby. The adjourning door to the living room was shut, of course, even though they had left it open that morning. "Go through, dear," Ethan said from the street. "No room for me in here until you do."

Shifting the shopping bags to one hand, Rupert got the door to the living room open and stepped through.

Ethan watched Rupert stop dead in his tracks, the dogs running past his legs and barking excitedly. Rupert paid them no attention whatsoever, being far too amusingly gobsmacked by, presumably, the large and sparkly banner hung high up far wall proclaiming, 'Happy Retirement, Giles!' Or just possibly it was the fact that their small front room was packed to brimming with people that was throwing him.

No, not just people, friends. Friends who weren't even meant to be in this country in certain cases; Ethan grinned over Rupert's shoulder at Buffy and Dawn, Xander and Willow. Megan and Kat were there too, and Faith, even Madiha, who was to all accounts doing very well in her adjustment. There were others too, off in the study. Coming out of the kitchen were Matthew, and ah yes, Pamela. Ethan winked at his fellow conspirator.

Rupert was staring at them all with his mouth slightly open. Ethan found he was regretting the lack of a camera to hand. Xander stepped forward with a grin and a large bottle of the champagne they'd decided upon. "Surprise?"

In spite of his obvious shock, Rupert managed to find his voice. "Well, that explains why no one made it to the get-together this afternoon," he said dryly.

Pamela coughed politely at that. "Shop well, did you, sir?" and everyone chuckled.

Ethan took the bags from Rupert's hands so that Xander could pass him the magnum. There was a little condensation on the bottle as if just taken from the fridge. "It got itself a little shook up," Xander said. "Careful now, ex-boss man."

Dawn stepped forward, carrying a tray of the champagne flutes they'd purchased specially for this. She pointedly stood away from where the bottle pointed, however. "Happy no-more-work day." She beamed at Rupert.

Rupert smiled back. "At least no one thought to christen anything with this," he said as he carefully set about opening the bottle.

"Nah," Dawn said in mock-seriousness. "We figured you'd been hit on the head enough for one lifetime."

Ethan slipped an arm around Rupert's waist. "Want me to pop your cork?" he asked with one of his best innocent smiles.

"Maybe later," Rupert said with a straight face. "But you can help open the champagne now if you'd like."

Chuckling, Ethan said, "Point it away from the light fittings, dearheart. And may I just say, revenge is sweet, and you're not the only one who can employ Pamela in covert non-Council business."

"All this after-hours work will have to stop, dear girl," Matthew said, good naturedly, "once we're married." He put a possessive arm around Pamela, who blushed.

The cork finally came loose with a distinct pop, but Rupert managed to keep hold of it so nothing breakable was put in danger. Champagne bubbled out slightly, dripping to the floor. "Have you two set a date yet?"

"We were thinking a Christmas wedding, old boy," Matthew said, beaming with obvious pride. "Invite everyone up for a bit of a holiday, lots of partying, maybe a bit of shoo–" He paused and looked uneasily at Ethan. "Now foxes eat game birds, so I'm not going to have any trouble with you about some seasonal shooting, am I?"

"Define 'trouble'," Ethan said, with a deliberately blank smile.

"Shouldn't have a problem if it's geese at least," Buffy put in, grinning at Ethan. "Ethan's got some kind of grudge against them."

Matthew frowned. "Well, I was thinking more of a few grouse, a partridge or two..." he trailed off.

Rupert was just holding the opened champagne and doing nothing useful with it as he continued to look around the room, an endearingly perplexed expression on his face. Ethan took pity and removed the bottle from his hands. He gestured with his head at their Slayers, and Megan and Kat came forward. They took an arm each of Rupert's.

"Come on," Kat said, "Sit down where we can 'pay court' like we're supposed to."

Looking entirely bemused, Rupert let the girls lead him to the sofa. "Next you'll be telling me there's a paper crown I have to wear."

"I vetoed the party hats," Buffy told him. "Have to look out for my Watcher's dignity after all. Anyway, I look incredibly silly in them."

"And we have the pictures to prove it," Dawn put in, winning a sharp look from her sister.

Ethan filled a couple of champagne flutes before handing the bottle back to Xander. He wandered over to Rupert and pressed one of the glasses into his hand. Dawn and Madiha were passing around the others as Xander poured. Ethan perched himself on the arm of the sofa beside Rupert. "I hope you didn't eat too much of that dull Council food, dear."

"I didn't have much chance, what with someone dragging me out to go do some essential couscous shopping," Rupert replied with an arched eyebrow.

"Vital, that was." Ethan winked and raised his own glass. "Someone make a toast?"

Rupert raised his glass and looked around the room, his gaze thoughtful and lingering. "To family and friends," he finally said with a small smile that clearly, to Ethan at least, betrayed the emotion behind the words.

Ethan echoed the words as did everyone else, raising their glasses in turn. Ethan clinked his against Rupert's and met his eyes before sending, 'Happy beginnings, husband-mine.'