*

Of course he'd seen the way Ripper looked at the boy, had noticed the
carefully calculated indifference and sometimes outright cruelty.

Curious, yes.  But then, when one looked at the boy, Xander, you knew
why.

And it was odd, because Ripper never really had been big on self
restraint, but Ethan supposed it had something to do with his new life,
his veneer of respectability.

It probably wouldn't do to fuck the boy who had a rather obviously
desperate case of hero worship combined with some very interesting daddy
issues.

Ethan laughed as he imagined Xander's fantasies of the kind and gentle
Watcher kindly and gently fucking, excuse me, making love to the shy and
uncertain schoolboy.  Maybe even seducing him while Xander stuttered out
a shocked "I- I- I really d-d- don't think we... Oh Giles."

And oh my yes, there's just a little bit of a rather nasty greenish
tinge to those thoughts, because Ethan finds it disgustingly easy to see
Giles having the same fantasies.  Of course he would treat the boy
tenderly.  How could he not?  Xander was the total and complete
antithesis of everything Ethan had been at the age.  Xander still had
that sense of innocence and wonder that Ethan suspected would *always*
stay with him.  Unless, of course, someone took him in hand.

Because no one is truly innocent, truly incorruptible.  You just need to
find the key.

Or the key finds you.  That, Ethan thought, was the truly beautiful
aspect of chaos.  You never knew what you'd find around the next
corner.  Or, as fate would have it, in front of Ripper's house in the
middle of the night.

And there he was.  Little Xander Harris, just chock full of misery and
anger and need too long denied.  And in the end it was so easy.

Maybe too easy, upon reflection.

Satisfying, yes.  Xander's rage had just the right touch of young Ripper
to make Ethan's better judgement take a flyer.  Giving in to him that
way, all right, be honest, *surrendering* hadn't been so much planned as
instinctual.  And hadn't *that* been a rather surprising gift from the
gods?

Luckily, Ethan lived for surprise.  It happened so rarely.

In his rather shabby motel room, Ethan had found himself wondering about
young Master Harris.  So angry.  So shockingly unpredictable.  So much
*fun*.

And, for the moment, it beat out wondering about Ripper, who was just as
angry, but rather set in his predictable behavior patterns these days.
Still too noble or uptight --or hurt-- but he banishes that with the
ease of long practice, or rigid to do the things he really wants to.  To
either Ethan or Xander.

That, Ethan decided, is a shame.  A real waste of opportunity.  But if
Ripper wouldn't play... perhaps the amazingly angry Xander would.

And honestly, how often do you get a chance to be a formative experience
in a young man's life?  Okay twice, but Xander was not quite the same as
Ripper.  He was a little rawer.  A little more honest in his reactions.
But just as angry, when you got right down to it.

And of course, the idea of getting right down to it makes Ethan give a
little shudder of anticipation.

So.  Time to pay a visit to Sunnydale.  Perhaps he should bring a gift.
Something silver.
 

End.