Summary Buffy makes a wish and finds Ripper and Ethan on the other side
Rating NC17 Het, Slash, multiple
Disclaimer No quality fanfiction was harmed in the writing of this story.
Any injured copyrights were unintentional
Notes Thanks to Scarlettgirl for planting the original seed to this in a parking garage in downtown Philly,
to Mydeira for starting it and then letting me take over (large chunks of the first three chapters are hers, so share the love),
and to Wickedfox for the absolutely amazing graphic she made to go with it!
Chapter 9
They sat like that, still joined, gently caressing with mouths and hands as the cheering died down and the band started their encore. Ethan was the one to break off first as he pushed her back slightly to allow himself to withdraw with a wince. “You probably ought to go back to the loo and freshen up, yeah?” he asked, tucking himself back into his trousers and zipping up, still under the blanket of her skirts.
Glancing around, she leaned forward and asked in a hushed voice, “Aren’t you going to have a wet spot?”
His eyes glinted mischievously. Leaning forward, he grabbed a beer off the table and took a long drink as he slid her off his knees. Then with casual disregard, he dumped the rest in his lap. “Oops.”
Buffy couldn’t help laughing as she grabbed what napkins she could find and started blotting at his lap.
He caught her wrist. “That’s not helping matters, girl. Go get yourself cleaned up.”
Touched by his rough consideration, she leaned forward and brushed her lips across his. Then she went in search of the ladies room.
It was almost a comfort to find that one thing that was consistent on either side of the Atlantic and across three decades was the line for the ladies room. Buffy waited impatiently and a little uncomfortably for her turn, cleaning up quickly when she finally got a stall. She was startled when she came out to find Thomas standing there. His shaggy blond hair looked like he’d run his hands through it more than a few times, and his eyes were dilated, showing her sex and rock and roll weren’t the only recreations going on here tonight. “Thomas.”
“Thought I might find you here,” he said abruptly, as though trying not to forget the words. He shambled towards her, forcing her to back away from the safety of the main room.
“You thought?” All Buffy’s alarms were sounding. “Thomas, did you follow me?”
“No,” he insisted, backing her slowly back towards the wall, “I followed Ethan. That’s how it always works. First Ripper, then Ethan, then the rest of us. Ripper and Ethan had their turns, so why wait?”
He moved in, intent on pinning her to the wall, obviously not expecting her to be able to stop him. He looked surprised when she straight-armed him. “Hate to tell you, buddy, but I’m not some toy to pass around.”
“Sure you are,” Thomas insisted, finding surety in the buzz of whatever he had taken. “You’re the cunt they have on the side for when they aren’t too busy fucking each other. Won’t take you long to get tired of being their third wheel. So come on, baby, find out what a real man feels like.”
“Since there aren’t any around,” Ethan’s voice came low and ominous from behind Thomas, “I suggest you back off. She said no.”
Thomas snorted. “Like that means anything to you.” He didn’t budge, his eyes raking over Buffy aggressively.
“It means finding someone a little safer to come on to.” Ethan’s voice was even, although Buffy could hear the warning in it.
“Just means the bitch needs more convincing.” Thomas pressed forward, hands reaching for whatever parts of Buffy he could grope.
And suddenly he was gone, crashing against the far wall to collapse on the floor.
Ripper was right on top of him, dragging him back to his feet to slam him against the wall again. “What the fuck you think you’re doing, Sutcliffe?”
Thomas cringed. “Nothing! Shit, what’s your problem?”
“My problem,” Ripper said, giving Thomas another fierce shake, “is that you’re touching something that doesn’t belong to you.”
“But Ripper . . .” Thomas started to whine.
Ripper slammed him into the wall again. “Did I tell you you could touch her?”
“No, but . . .”
“Did I say you could even look at her?”
“Geez, Rip, it’s not like we didn’t see it all last night.” Thomas was starting to get indignant. “You’ll get tired of her in a day or two, you always do. You always give us your leftovers. Well, I wanted something a little fresh, before you two ruin her for the rest of us.”
Ripper punched him. The first blow drove Thomas’ head back against the stone. The second knocked him flat. Buffy’s instinct was to break them up, but Ethan stopped her. “Don’t.”
“He’ll kill him.”
“Thomas knew what he was risking when he came on to you. Besides, it’s over now.”
Sure enough, Ripper was backing off, leaving Thomas bleeding and barely conscious on the floor. To her surprise, Ripper turned and grabbed her wrist. “We’re leaving,” he insisted, dragging her along behind.
Buffy didn’t recover her wits until he was pushing her ahead of him into the alley. Yanking her arm away from him, she turned on him. “What was that all about?” she demanded, furious.
Ripper glowered at her. “He was bothering you.”
“You think I can’t protect myself from some grabby guy?” She saw Ethan follow them into the alley and take up position behind Ripper, watching them in amusement. “Hello, Slayer here!”
“Not the point.” He didn’t flinch. “He knows better than to touch what isn’t his.”
“God, you Neanderthal!” She was starting to get really pissed now. “Welcome to the twentieth century, buddy! I don’t belong to anybody, and I get to decide who touches me and who doesn’t. And,” she poked him emphatically, taking satisfaction from his pained wince, “if I don’t like someone’s advances, I can tell him to take a hike for myself, got it?”
She gasped in surprise when he grabbed her arms and jerked her against him. But this time the feel of his hard, aroused body against hers didn’t distract her. He wasn’t in charge of her, and if he intended to turn verbal violence into physical violence, well, it was about time Ripper was the one left bleeding on the floor.
Something off to the left snuffled.
It was a low, almost bovine sound, seconded by a curious grunt. Together, Buffy and Ripper turned to face it. The demon standing there was all too familiar.
“What is it with you and Fyarls anyways?” Buffy groaned, already searching for a weapon. There wasn’t a lot of silver to be found in a dirty, English alley. Then her eyes lit on the belt buckle she had noticed on Ripper earlier. “Is that real silver? Please tell me that’s real silver.”
“Yeah, but what . . .”
She didn’t give him a chance to finish, her fingers already deftly working the catch and yanking the belt from around his waist.
“Hardly time to be getting’ into my pants, girl,” Ripper said, his eyes shifting between her and the monster.
“You wish.” She slid the leather back through the tang and cinched it tight around her hand so the buckle lay over her knuckles. The rest of the belt she wrapped quickly around her arm as she shifted her stance. “Stay back,” she warned both him and Ethan. “And if it looks like it’s about to sneeze, well, duck.”
She almost felt bad. Fyarl were mostly mercenaries, she knew that. But this one looked more lost than anything. She couldn’t just let it wander around, though, not with all these drunk college students everywhere. Someone was bound to antagonize it, and then there would be trouble.
It studied her curiously as she approached, its oversized head swaying as it watched her. God, it was big. Her best bet was going to be to try and get it on the ground and then focus on the vulnerable parts. Well, as vulnerable as this guy got.
“Believe me,” she warned, setting herself, “this is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me.”
The first blow only pissed it off.
It bellowed and lunged for her, but its great, lumbering body wasn’t built for speed, allowing her to dodge easily. She hadn’t counted on the long reach of its arms. It backhanded her with an enraged roar and sent her flying across the alley to crash into the wall.
Flipping back up, she jumped up and caught the fire escape, using the momentum to slam her feet into its chest. It stumbled back a few steps before charging again, but Buffy didn’t stand still to wait for it. She flipped up over its head and lashed out on the way down, kicking it behind the knees. Flailing, it spun around, furious.
Before Buffy could try again, the Fyarl howled and stumbled to his knees, revealing Ripper standing behind it, a long length of iron drainpipe gripped in his hand.
She took the opportunity and slammed her armored knuckles into the demon’s face. “I thought I told you to stay out of this!” she shouted at Ripper over the creature’s roar of pain and fury.
“Bugger that!” Ripper smacked the pipe against the side of the Fyarl’s head. “You going to be all night at this?”
He was intentionally baiting her, and she let him, redirecting her anger into the furious blows she rained on the Fyarl’s vulnerable face. It gurgled and reached for her, but Ripper batted it in the ear, distracting it enough for Buffy to drive her fist into the creature’s snout with a sickening crunch. With a last watery growl, it toppled to the ground and was still.
Buffy unwound the belt carefully from around her hand, flexing against the impressions the metal had left in her skin as she scoped out the alley. “We probably shouldn’t just leave him here.”
Ripper nodded, already moving towards the creature’s shoulders. “Ethan, give us a hand.”
Ethan crossed his arms. “Oh, no, mate. You made this mess, you clean it up.”
Buffy draped the belt around her neck and picked up the demon’s legs. “Just open the dumpster, Ethan, please.”
With a put upon sigh, he did as she asked, allowing them to muscle the corpse over and heave it up into the bin, dropping the cover down over it again. Buffy dusted off her hands and clothes before turning back to Ripper. “Now, where were we?”
“Right about here.” His eyes darkened as he reached out and grabbed the belt still around her neck to drag her close, his mouth descending on hers demandingly.
And there it was, the surge of adrenalin that struck after every fight, preparing her for the next one. Her body didn’t care if the struggle was physical or sexual. Although with Ripper’s hard lines pressing into her, sexual was definitely gaining the upper hand.
She took control of the kiss, demanding access to the inner reaches of his mouth as this time she pressed him back against the wall. Ripper reached up to catch hold of her hair, but she caught his hands and pinned them to the brickwork, grinding her stomach against his erection as he groaned in desperation.
Cool fingers brushed the hair off the back of her neck, and then Ethan’s lips were there, caressing over the tender skin as he asked, “Is this a private party or can I play, too?”
Without freeing Ripper, Buffy turned her head and traced her tongue over Ethan’s lips, opening her mouth to welcome him in as he pressed close against her back. Ripper struggled to get free, but Buffy held him tighter. With one last caress, she released Ethan to stare Ripper down. “Who do I belong to?”
He glared at her, finally grumbling, “No one.”
She tightened her grip. “Wrong answer.”
“Yourself!” he winced. “You belong to your bloody self.”
Easing her grip, she asked in the same even tone, “And whose girl am I?”
“Ethan’s,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“And?”
When he didn’t answer, Ethan slipped his arm around her middle and leaned forward over her shoulder. “And you’re damn lucky I let her share herself with you.”
Ripper didn’t look amused, but Buffy was. “And,” she went on, “if you want me, you’d better ask really nicely, got it?”
He looked furious, but she could feel him still struggling to get to her. Finally, he subsided. “Please, Annie. Wanna feel you. Wanna fuck you.”
The need in his voice made her tremble, but she stayed strong. “You call that asking nice?”
Ethan chuckled in her ear. “Small steps, pet. Can’t expect him to become a sensitive bloke in an instant. Now,” he nuzzled against her neck, “are you going to take pity on the poor boy and shag him here? Or shall we go home where it’s more comfortable?”
Her own desire was making her skin throb, but she was determined to make sure Ripper learned his lesson. She kissed him again, pouring all her own pent up desire into it until he was fighting against her to get free. Then she broke away, turning to casually head down the alley.
“Let’s go home.”