"Now this goes beyond Memory Lane to Déjà vu Avenue," Ethan said as he and Rupert walked from the tube station together. "You and I out for an evening together, me dressed up to the nines... I feel nineteen again."

"Some things are different," Rupert said, reaching out for Ethan's hand as they walked. "But this does feel familiar."

Glancing at Rupert, Ethan smiled. "Are you ready to bring the Ripper out when the first bunch of young louts we meet take exception to this?" Ethan squeezed the hand in his.

"Not likely in this part of town." Rupert smiled.

"Well, not at this time of night anyway," Ethan acknowledged. "Currently, the only skinheads we'll see are more likely to protect us than threaten us."

They were in South London, close to the Thames, and walking through an area studded with gay clubs and pubs. They passed many same-sex couples, smiles and nods often being exchanged, and it was... more than pleasant. Ethan felt a surge of pride flood through him, to be here, with Rupert, made him feel decidedly smug.

"Have you guessed where we're heading yet?" he asked.

"I haven't given it much thought, actually. Although judging from our location and the fact that you're, as you said, dressed to the nines," Rupert gave him a teasing smile, "I would assume it's somewhere you can dance."

Nodding, Ethan replied, "You're not likely to guess beyond that actually... unless you know this area better than I think you do. And if you do, I want the full details please."

Rupert mock-glared. "Are you implying I had a social life without you?"

Ethan chuckled. "You did seem to rather lose the knack for a while. I kept it up myself, off and on, but it was an empty experience without you; just a means to an end." He tugged on Rupert's hand, pausing them on the pavement, and reached with his free fingers to touch Rupert's face. "You are the song to my dance, dearheart. Without you, there was no music left inside me to move my body."

Some part of Ethan noted that the usual cynical dryness he would have once felt compelled to use when expressing such romantic concepts was lacking from his voice. Well, almost. He and Rupert had reached a point where there could be no shame between them about such things.

Rupert's expression became serious, and he slid a hand up to rest at the nape of Ethan's neck. "That was a definite crime. The way you move is one of the wonders of the world, love."

Ethan beamed. "Right next to your singing then." He kissed Rupert softly on the cheek, and they resumed walking. "So tell me about young Xander. What's his story?"

"Xander was there from the beginning in Sunnydale." Rupert's eyes seemed full of memories. "I've watched him grow up, just like Buffy and Willow. Is there something specific you want to know?"

"He seems, hmm, sad under the banter. Is that because of his eye, or is there something more?"

Rupert grew momentarily silent, and some of the sadness that Ethan had perceived around Xander suddenly seemed to be clinging to Rupert as well. "His ex-fiancée was killed in that last battle to close the Hellmouth."

"Ex, but not really, I take it? Poor bloke." Ethan tried hard not to think about how easily it could have been Rupert who was killed during that apocalyptic fight... or indeed, any of the other apocalyptic fights Rupert had been involved in. "You knew her too, I presume."

"Oh yes." Rupert smiled fondly. "Anya was my business partner in the Magic Box. She took over when I went back to England. She was quite extraordinary."

"Ah. Such a shame I was never around to witness you in your role as shopkeeper," Ethan teased mildly. "I would've liked to have seen that, although I imagine you would've refused to serve me."

"We would've had words, certainly," Rupert agreed, squeezing his hand. "Anya, however, would have only made sure your money was good."

"Very sensible too. You can't get picky about customers if you want to run a profitable business, which is probably why both of our tenures as shopkeepers didn't last that long." They were approaching their destination; Ethan could already hear some familiar rhythms. The way people nearby were dressed also pointed the way.

"My shop was destroyed by a driven-mad-by-grief witch," Rupert replied dryly. "What was your excuse?"

"Hmm, you ran me out of town, if I recall correctly... not that I really went, of course, but I could hardly lurk unseen and run a thriving business simultaneously. Here we are." Ethan pulled Rupert to a stop outside the Tavern.

It was a large and odd-shaped building standing on its own in the apex of a junction. Rounded at the front and angular at the back like a slice of cake, it couldn't really be called attractive, but it was certainly memorable. The roads outside were full of people – mostly men, and mostly shaven-headed as was a popular look amongst the older gay crowd these days it seemed.

Older, but not of the age of Ethan and Rupert, however, which fact Ethan tried hard to ignore. The blackboards around the main door declared it to be Seventies Revival Night. Most of the men Ethan could see would have been still in nappies at the time of Glam rock.

Rupert laughed when he saw the signs. "I see this really is a trip back to our past. Complete with the music of the time."

"Yes," Ethan smiled. "It seemed appropriate for our first evening out since we got married. Are you ready for this, my dear?"

"I'm entirely yours."

The simple truth of that statement was enough to make Ethan feel a little overwhelmed. It wasn't helped by the fact that he found he was already a bit nervous. Coven moots aside, it had been about a decade since he had last gone dancing. Suddenly and uncharacteristically insecure, he moved closer to Rupert, seeking an embrace. "We could always go somewhere quieter if you'd prefer."

Rupert wrapped his arms around Ethan's waist. "I want to see you dance," he said softly; then added after a slight pause, "But you could dance for me at home if you'd feel more comfortable..."

Rupert knew. Rupert always knew these days when there was something wrong, and that was really all the reassurance Ethan needed. He smiled and pulled back, grabbing Rupert's hand and tugging him through the doors, into the flashing lights and throbbing beat beyond.

They paused for a brief moment once inside, taking in the atmosphere and the décor. "It's definitely been a while," Rupert commented wryly, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

Things really hadn't changed that much. The air still stank of beer, fags and sweat as it had in the clubs of their youth. There was still too little room on the dance floor and no room at all at the bar. Ethan frowned and began to consider crowd movement as a natural pattern. As soon as he thought it, he could see it, and see where to twist.

Laughing, he leant to speak into Rupert's ear. "Would it be terribly wicked to use magic in the pursuit of beer?"

Rupert looked at the bar. "I won't tell, if you don't," he finally replied with a hint of his old Ripperish smile.

Delighted, Ethan grinned back. He squeezed Rupert's hand and then sent out his magical senses. As they walked towards the bar, Ethan pulled at the living warp and weft of the Tavern crowd. It felt like parting the Red Sea as people simultaneously thought of something they just had to do elsewhere and the way cleared.

"Very deft touch," Rupert murmured in his ear when they got to the bar, his arms coming around Ethan's waist from behind.

"Mine's a pint of export," Ethan said with a grin, warmed by the praise. He pushed back slightly against Rupert and began to move with the rhythm.

Rupert's grip tightened, pulling him just that bit closer as he raised his voice to give their drink order to the barman. "Going to work up a sweat tonight?" he growled for Ethan's hearing alone while they waited for their drinks.

"That was my general intention." As they waited for the drinks to be poured, Ethan's movements became increasingly dance-like, his shoulders and arse swaying to and fro to the rhythm, his body rubbing against Rupert's. "This feels... good."

Rupert laughed, the sound deep and husky. "'Good' may be an understatement."

Their drinks arrived, and they separated just enough to allow themselves to consume them. Ethan downed his pint quickly, impatient to get to the dance floor. There was the familiar buzz as the alcohol from the strong beer hit his system, and he grinned broadly at Rupert, leaning in to kiss him. Physical communication seemed easier than trying to express anything complex over the music.

Rupert kissed him back just as enthusiastically, tasting of love, magic, and the alcohol he'd just consumed. Pulling apart, he grinned at Ethan and asked, "Shall we take this to the dance floor?"

Ethan smiled and nodded, and hands held, they made their way into the crowd. To make a space to dance in, Ethan used a little bit of magical tweaking not dissimilar to the method Ian had used to keep ants away from them in the woods.

The alcohol, and more importantly Rupert's eyes upon him, gave Ethan all the confidence he required to let his body move instinctively to the music. Moves he didn't think he'd used since the last time he'd been clubbing with Rupert, came back to him naturally. Any residual self-consciousness simply vanished as the simple joy of dancing took hold of him, and he gave himself up to the experience.

It wasn't a surprise that Rupert was more conservative, at least at first, his dancing less demonstrative and a bit self-conscious. The surprise came as time wore on, after Ethan began to lose himself to the music. Rupert's movements became smoother and more confident, moving in perfect synch, Ethan's enthusiasm seeming to carry Rupert along.

Ethan watched Rupert with appreciation, deliberately now leading them both in a physical duet. It was exciting to move like this together, akin both to sex and to the combined magic exercises set them in Devon by their mentors. Ian and Lucy had given them a progressive series of 'lessons' to help learn to use their magic effectively together, lessons they were still working their way through. This dance felt a lot like the experience of wielding magic as a synchronised pair.

As they moved, gradually Rupert began to occasionally take the lead, initiating the movements that Ethan willingly and joyfully followed. This was the way it was supposed to be between them, completely and totally together, each of them equally able to lead at any given second. The way, Ethan realised with a small wince, it wasn't during sex.

Putting such concerns aside, Ethan moved closer to Rupert so that now their dance involved touch and a more intimate interaction of their bodies. Rupert smiled as he met Ethan's gaze, his hips pressed against Ethan's and moving with the beat. He leant in for a kiss, but stopped just before their lips would have touched, hovering just out of reach.

Ethan grinned at the teasing and licked his lips. He then sent out a little flicker of his magic to bridge the gap between their mouths. Eyes darkening at that, Rupert let his smile widen and sent back a little flicker of his own; Ethan felt it buzzing under his skin. He felt his cock twitch and start to harden in response.

Pressing even closer, Ethan tugged Rupert's T-shirt out of his jeans and slipped his hand underneath to make contact with the skin of his back. Ethan let his touch not only send a pulse of magic through Rupert, but also to provide Ethan a good connection for something else. Something he'd only done once before and that was in a meadow in Devon.

Ethan traced the patterns of Rupert's arousal, and very subtly, pulled on them magically.

He felt more than heard Rupert's groan in response and watched as Rupert tilted his head back in a silent surrender to Ethan's touch. The dance continued, their feet moving together instinctively, somehow interweaving without ever entangling. Their growing erections rubbed together as their bodies moved.

Grinning somewhat smugly, Ethan used his power to tug at Rupert again, increasing the pleasure and sensation he was experiencing. Ethan buried his face against Rupert's neck and bit gently at the same time. Rupert groaned again, sliding his hands down Ethan's body and cupping his arse as they moved, their movements becoming even more blatantly sexual as they continued.

Ethan moved his lips to Rupert's, and they began to kiss in earnest. Through his awareness of the patterns, Ethan knew exactly how aroused Rupert was, and the shape of his excitement was beautiful, complex and throbbing like a living thing.

Almost as if echoing his own thoughts, Ethan very clearly heard Rupert say, 'So beautiful,' in an awed tone, only to then realise that Rupert's lips were against his own and hadn't spoken.

Ethan pulled back a little way, and although he stopped neither the dance nor the exchange of magic, he looked at Rupert a little questioningly.

"What is it?" Rupert asked, and although Ethan couldn't hear him over the music, the words sounded clearly in his mind.

So, as well as linking through dance and magic, they were linking minds? It made sense, looking at it like that, but it remained a very powerful experience for Ethan. Laughing a little incredulously, he spoke within his own mind to Rupert, keeping his lips firmly shut. 'I love you.'

Rupert's eyes widened, and then he laughed also and leant in to kiss Ethan again. His voice sounded clearly in Ethan's mind. 'I love you too.'

In all his years of magic use, Ethan had never had anyone enter his mind. It was his one truly private place, or at least it always had been. He didn't mind Rupert penetrating even there, in fact it felt quite desperately 'right', but Ethan found his emotional reaction to it all was a bit... staggering. Rather overwhelmed by developments, he moaned heavily into the kiss. 'Want you,' he thought. 'Need you now.'

'What, on the dance floor?' Rupert's voice in his mind was laced with laughter and arousal.

"Ripper, please, I... God, please." Ethan was saying the words as well as thinking them now. He was feeling a little lost, somewhat out of control; the mental connection on top of everything else was more than he could easily handle. He needed Rupert to make sense of it all.

He wanted Rupert to take control of the situation and of him, and the easiest way to ensure this was through the sex that they were both already very much in the mood for.

"Is there somewhere we can go?" Rupert asked, the words still more in Ethan's mind than his ears.

Ethan didn't know, and he was too flustered to use his magical sense to try and find out. Instead, he rather guiltily pulled on the pattern he was already in touch with, that of Rupert's arousal, hoping to make him as desperate as Ethan was. So that Rupert would take control and find them somewhere.

He felt the surge of arousal go through Rupert's body at his manipulation and saw his eyes grow dazed and even darker. "Ethan..." Rupert growled, whether warning or plea, Ethan couldn't tell.

"Please," Ethan begged. "Christ, Ripper. Please." Fecklessly, he tugged on the pattern again, and Rupert shook in reaction, before finally breaking and shoving Ethan up against a support column with enough force to make Ethan lose his breath, the brutal kiss that followed completing the job.

God, yes. This was what Ethan needed so badly. Ripper taking control of him; it made the world make sense again. He didn't give a damn that they were in the middle of a public dance floor; he'd cloak them if necessary; Ian had shown him how. 'Yours,' he thought powerfully. 'Take me.'

Rupert seemed single-mindedly intent on doing just that, appearing to have been pushed past the point of rational thought. He fumbled with the fastenings of Ethan's trousers, kissing him like it was a predatory act.

While he could still think at all, as it was clear he soon wouldn't be capable of much beyond moaning and grunting, Ethan felt out with his magic into the crowd and strengthened his space-clearing spell, making it much more than that. He twisted the pattern of the dancing crowd, ensuring that eyes would pass over Rupert and himself, seeing, but not noticing, effectively making them invisible.

If Rupert registered the added use of magic he didn't react. Finally getting Ethan's trousers open, Rupert pushed them and Ethan's underwear down almost to his knees. Then Rupert roughly spun him around until his face was pressed against the column.

A brief second was all Ethan had to get used to the new position, before Rupert's cock was pushing into him on a stream of magic.

Ethan had no words. Words were all gone. Rupert... Ripper... made no attempt to go slowly at first, pistoning into Ethan's arse with violent abandon. Ethan's body was overtaken: Ripper's cock, Ripper's magic, Ripper's incoherent thoughts all inside Ethan. He gave himself up utterly to Ripper, no longer caring about losing control as Ripper had hold of him in every sense.

Gradually, Ethan became aware of a rhythm to Ripper's thrusts, one that matched the throbbing bass beat of the music. Ripper's hands came to rest on Ethan's hips, holding him close as he continued to fuck Ethan in time to the music. They were dancing again, only with Ripper's cock buried deep in him.

Ethan wondered vaguely if it was possible to die from too much sensation. The tiny part of him that remained capable of thought couldn't quite believe that this was happening. Around them, close enough to reach out and touch, men danced. A hundred strangers moved in complex patterns about the dance floor, while in the centre of them all, Ripper thrust hard into Ethan's arse.

In time to sodding Suzie Quatro of all people.

Ripper's husky chuckle blew warm breath against Ethan's ear. "How long do you think we can keep this dance going?"

God, Ripper wanted words from him? Thinking rather than saying, Ethan tried his best to answer. 'More. Lots more. Want more.'

"You always want more," Ripper replied out loud with fond affection. As the beat changed, he added a slight circular movement to his hips as he moved in and out of Ethan's body, and Ethan stopped trying to think with words at all. He just lost himself in the experience of being taken, body and soul. Time and the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the music carrying them along.

Oh God, Ethan was floating somewhere. His body was in one place, awash with magic and sensation, but he was somewhere else, somewhere high, still, and bright. It felt like Heaven, quite literally. If Heaven existed, surely this was the kind of discorporate bliss it would involve. Ripper was with him, inside him, part of him. They were one.

Ethan had never known such a purity of contentment.

Nothing could last forever, and after a timeless period, Ethan felt a tugging upon him. He became aware that he was somehow looking down. He was looking at himself from above, and at Ripper moving behind him, Ripper's hand wrapped around Ethan's cock.

The tugging increased, and sound returned, the music and the noise of his heavy breathing. Ripper was close to coming, Ethan realised, and so it seemed was he.

Suddenly, he was slammed violently back into his body as Ripper thrust him back against the support column, fucking him hard and fast for a few more seconds until they both came. The sensation seemed brutally real after the gentle bliss Ethan had been floating within.

As the shudders faded from his body, Ethan felt his legs buckle. Rupert held him up, braced against the column. It seemed very quiet all of sudden, in spite of the music and crowds around them; Ethan gradually realised it was because Rupert's thoughts were no longer in his mind.

As overwhelming as having Rupert in his head had been, losing him again left Ethan feeling bereft and lost. Panicking a little, he reached out with his magic to check his spell, scared it had lost coherency whilst he'd been living it up on cloud nine. But it was still intact; no one but those specifically looking for the two of them in that spot would notice their dishevelled states.

Ethan became aware that he was shaking.

Rupert seemed to become aware of it at the same time. He murmured reassurances into Ethan's ear, pulling back long enough to get them both more or less put back together. Then he turned Ethan around to face him and pulled him back into his arms.

Ethan clung. He was fighting back tears; simply a reaction to the intensity of what they'd just done, and not a sign of any specific emotion. "Rupert..."

Rupert nuzzled his cheek gently. "Dancing seems to have changed some since the old days," he teased.

"I... oh. Outside?"

Rupert nodded, and they headed for the door, Rupert keeping an arm around Ethan the entire way.

Out in the street, Ethan leant back against the wall of the tavern and tried to recover his wits. "Rupert, I... I was... not... I... So high. Looking..." He wasn't being particularly successful so far.

As Rupert pressed gently against him, holding him up as much as anything else, a drolly amused voice from the club door said, "Popped one happy pill too many, has he?" It was one of the security blokes.

"It was a bit too much of a spiritual experience for him," Rupert replied shortly, most of his attention quite obviously focused on Ethan.

"You should get him home and let him sleep it off then," the man sounded concerned in a detached kind of way.

Ethan touched Rupert's chest, feeling its solidity and drawing on it emotionally. He struggled to put a coherent sentence together. "I'm okay. Home sounds... good."

"Yes, it does," Rupert agreed softly, the words a verbal caress. "Shall we start back there?"

Ethan nodded, and laughed a little raggedly as he said, "I think I'm... back inside enough to walk." He got a slightly confused look for that comment, but Rupert just nodded and slid an arm around Ethan's waist as they started down the pavement towards the nearest tube station.

Ethan remained quiet for a while, but he was feeling increasingly restored to himself. After they had entered the station and made their way to the platform, he said quietly. "I miss you."

Rupert brushed the back of his free hand against Ethan's cheek. "It was quite an... intense connection," he agreed.

"It felt... like you were in every cell... no. No, it was more than that."

"You seemed to go away for a bit there, during..." Rupert said. "You were there still, but you weren't." He shook his head ruefully. "I think we may need some new vocabulary to discuss this."

"Or just a different way of communicating."

The underground train rolled into the station, and the pair entered the carriage together with a couple of other people who had been waiting on the platform with them. Rupert guided Ethan to seats at the back of the carriage, and they sat down. Ethan found himself staring up at an ad for a building society, which seemed, surreally, to be comparing its customers to soft fruit.

"The world seems odder than usual," he commented.

"Indeed." Rupert chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "Dear lord, we just shagged in the middle of a crowded dance floor. Even in the old days, we never reached that level of boldness."

"Er, no," Ethan agreed, the extent of what they'd just done finally hitting home. "Oh God..." He ran his fingers through his hair and leant forward, staring down at the ridged flooring. The train stopped at a station, and the doors opened. Two people got out of the carriage, and one got on. The doors shut, and on they went. "I'm sorry," he said a little wretchedly.

"For what?" Rupert asked bluntly, letting his hand rest on Ethan's thigh, "Just because I never would have imagined performing thusly, doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it. It was a rather... sublime experience."

Ethan looked up at him nervously. "I seem to remember forcing the issue somewhat"

Rupert smiled wryly. "There wasn't much force needed."

"I used... I tweaked you." Ethan couldn't help but chuckle at his wording, but the laughter soon faded.

"I know, love."

"Oh." Ethan looked down again, not sure what to make of that. He was quiet for a while.

The train stopped again, more people disembarked, and nobody got on. There were only a couple of others left in the carriage now – a tall black man sitting quite close to them and looking with an indeterminable expression at Rupert's hand on Ethan's thigh, and a small figure at the far end of the car wearing an anorak with its hood up.

Ethan sat up straight and moved close enough to Rupert's ear to be able to talk with no chance at all of being overheard. "You were inside me, dearheart... in my mind... I... It was overwhelming."

Rupert tilted his head to meet Ethan's eyes. "That's the first time you've dealt with telepathy?" Ethan nodded, and Rupert went on. "I've a bit of experience with it with Willow. She's the only witch or mage I've ever encountered with enough power to do so easily. I never thought it would be among my own abilities." He smiled wryly, "Although this is an entirely different sensation than that was."

"A good sensation?"

"With you?" The smile grew affectionate. "Very good."

The tall man opposite stood up, and Ethan watched surreptitiously, wondering if there was going to be trouble, but instead the man walked to the sliding doors, and when the train pulled to a halt again, he got off. A bunch of loud young girls got on, but sat away from the pair. Ethan snuggled a little closer to his husband. "It... you... everything, it sent me somewhere. I suppose you could say I had an out of body experience."

"Ah. That would explain it."

Ethan studied Rupert. "What was it like for you?"

Rupert's eyes grew a bit distant with memory. "Good. Intense. You were... everywhere, everything. And the music just made it all... It was like the music was part of it, and we were part of each other." He met Ethan's gaze again. "But I stayed quite firmly in my body."

"Someone needed to, I suppose," Ethan said thoughtfully with a slight frown. He'd wanted –no, needed– Rupert to be in control, but had that denied him the same bliss that Ethan had experienced?

"I think I can see why you've been so enamoured of dancing," Rupert teased, obviously trying to lighten the conversation a little.

"It's more tiring than I remember," Ethan replied with a small grin. He lay his head on Rupert's shoulder and shut his eyes for a while. He was aware of the train stopping and starting as it passed through more stations, and of Rupert, strong and solid at his side, but little else.

When he sensed they must be close to home, he opened his eyes again and straightened up. The carriage was empty now bar the small anoraked person at the back and a very tall thin man opposite them who looked like he should have played basketball when he was younger. His face was tanned and deeply wizened in the way white people's tended to get when they'd lived for too many years in the tropics. He was staring at Ethan and smiled slightly when Ethan's eyes met his.

Ethan frowned.

"What?" Rupert asked, mostly under his breath, obviously having felt the slight tensing in Ethan's form.

He put his hand on Rupert's leg and squeezed meaningfully. "Next stop is ours, my dear," he said lightly.

It wasn't, but Ethan felt a strong desire to get away from the man opposite who felt menacing and all too familiar to Ethan's senses. The stranger virtually reeked of Chaos.

Rupert's gaze sharpened, and he glanced briefly at the stranger. "So it is," he replied, covering Ethan's hand with his own and squeezing back, letting Ethan feel the power that was ready to be used if necessary.

They stood, even though the train was not yet slowing for a station. And as they moved, they began to weave protection around themselves automatically, working together by unspoken consensus. As they started to walk to the doors, the stranger spoke, with the grating voice of a heavy smoker.

"That's a cute trick, but I'm afraid I can't let you go." Unable to leave the carriage anyway until the train stopped and doors opened, Ethan flicked a glance at the tall withered man and saw that he was now standing. "Retexe!" the stranger said, and flung something small, black and animated at the pair.

"Consiste!" Rupert barked out immediately, raising one hand and halting the object in mid-air.

It seemed to be a ball of living Chaos. Ethan shuddered at its proximity, simultaneously drawn to it and strongly repelled. He concentrated on building and maintaining the patterns of defence around them, confident that Rupert would take care of the more aggressive magic needs.

"Perge," croaked out the Chaos mage, and the black writhing ball inched a little closer. "Retexe!" he said again, after pulling something from his pocket. He threw another identical ball towards them.

"Consiste!" Rupert said again, with more authority in his voice, his arm jerking slightly as the power he was using surged. The two black balls were both now halted and even moved back towards their attacker by a bare inch.

"Sustine." The Chaos mage smiled, his teeth alarmingly white against his sallow skin. His hand went back into his pocket, and made aware by some instinct, Ethan shouted a wordless warning, moving in front of Rupert, pushing him back a few steps. The mage's hand re-emerged and chucked something hard at the carriage floor. "Retexe!"

Metal buckled and twisted, and Ethan caught a glimpse of the mechanisms and track beneath the train through a newly created hole before he was knocked back to the carriage floor behind him, falling into Rupert on the way, and inevitably interrupting his concentration. Rupert tried to twist around to get a hand up to stop the two balls he'd had immobilised, but was too late.

The balls hit Ethan's pattern-enhanced shields, spreading out in inky rivulets of black Chaos, which seemed to obey neither gravity nor sense. Ethan felt his careful patterns corrupting and twisting as the Chaos energy ate its way through. The shields fell, and he gasped.

He scrambled up, kneeling between Rupert and the hole in the floor, and struggled to reform the barriers again before another attack could be made. But the Chaos mage was already digging in his pocket again.

One by one, the mage produced more of the black Chaos balls, launching them towards Ethan and Rupert.

With a quickly shouted "Consiste!" Rupert caught the first ball, halting it in mid-air. He caught the second as well, and the third, and fourth.

By the fifth, he was starting to sweat.

Ethan couldn't spare the time to help. The detonated Chaos balls had done something to the patterns around him. They had become unnaturally mutable, dissipating whenever he tried to touch them with his power and reforming in other shapes. He continued desperately to try to tweak their defences back into existence, but nothing would stay the way he put it, not here in the Chaos fall-out zone.

"We have to get off this bloody train," he growled through gritted teeth.

"I think not," said the Chaos magician, and with a smirk that reminded Ethan a little too much of his own, the man raised his hand and threw two writhing black balls directly at him.

"No!" Rupert shouted, giving a huge 'shove' to the balls he'd been holding back, sending them flying to the far side of the carriage, at the same time tackling Ethan flat to the floor, putting his body between Ethan and the two balls hurtling towards him.

The carriage walls rippled and broke where the balls hit them, but Ethan could spare no time to observe the phenomenon. The balls intended for him hit Rupert's back, and Ethan was struck by appalling terror as he watched agony distort Rupert's face, He could sense the raw Chaos swarming through Rupert's body, ripping him apart.

"No, oh God, Ripper, no!" In white-minded panic, Ethan moved to his knees and poured his power into Rupert's wracked and bleeding frame, holding the man together through sheer willpower. He knew the patterns of Rupert's body almost better than he knew his own. He didn't have to think about how to twist them back to what they should be, he just did it, instinctually drawing power from any sources his magic could find.

And then did it again because, as with the barriers, nothing would stay the way Ethan put it.

"You can't save him," claimed the mage, who was carefully stepping around the hole in the floor. "I mean, in time, and free from the pleasantly Chaotic atmosphere here, I'm sure you could, but what do you really think the chances are of me giving you that time, hmm?"

Ethan didn't waste energy replying to the bastard, he was using almost everything he had just stopping Rupert from falling to pieces under his hands. But he spared just the tiniest feather of awareness for the mage now standing before him. Probing with infinitesimal delicacy into the git's body.

"He will die," The mage crowed. "And you will be left like the one before you, a wild mare with no saddle, no rider to hold the reins."

"Maybe," Ethan conceded, tears running down his cheeks. "But you won't see it." He twisted his magic in the man's heart, having sensed the pattern of a potential heart attack. It might not have been due to happen for years yet, but Ethan made it happen now.

The mage clutched his chest, his long frame folding over. "No..." he groaned through gritted teeth, "Recrea--".

Not prepared to give the bastard a chance to heal himself, Ethan rose and shoved hard at the man, sending him screaming through the hole in the floor and into the moving machinery below. The scream was cut off abruptly and blood and bits of flesh splattered up through the hole, hitting Ethan.

He told himself he didn't care.

He laid himself down over his broken husband and closed his eyes, going deep within himself to at least maintain the level of physical integrity he'd managed to restore for Rupert so far, hopefully mending more.

He was aware of the train stopping and cries of horror and concern around him. Eventually, people tried to move him away from Rupert, and he threw them back with a wave of power. The confusion around him only increased until someone had the sense to move them together, and as one, they were lifted out of the mangled carriage and carried from the station.

As soon as they were away from the Chaos fall-out, Ethan 's magic stopped needing constant concentration. Things stayed where he put them. But too much of the damage was already fixed in the timeline and beyond Ethan's ability to heal with his type of magic.

He didn't know if what he was doing was really helping anymore. He didn't know if Rupert would ever wake again. He just knew that he had to keep doing it until he had nothing left to give. For without Rupert Giles, Ethan was nothing at all.