bonus snippet! (Giles/Ethan, PG)
For mydeira who wanted Ethan talking Giles into buying the red convertable.
***
"What are *you* still doing here?" Giles said, peering over his own bare shoulder at the man who was lying on his back behind him, one hand tucked behind his head, the other resting on his chest.
Giles rolled over, up on his side facing Ethan, finding it easier to glare at him in this position. Ethan rolled up onto his own side, mirroring Giles' position. "Really, Rupert. We shared something special and now you're tossing me out?" he drawled.
"Yes," Giles said, succinctly.
"I'm hurt. Really, I am."
"Good. Go away."
Ethan didn't.
"Fine." Giles rolled over the other way and got out of the bed, dragging a sheet with him, even though it wasn't as if there were a single centimeter of his body Ethan hadn't seen yet. "Stay. I'm leaving."
Naturally, by the time he walked out the door, Ethan was out of bed and dogging his every step.
"Why do you feel the need to torment me?" Giles asked.
Ethan pressed a button on the device on his keyring and his rental car chirped as it unlocked. "Says the man who's getting a willingly-given lift to a car dealership... undoubtedly one of the dullest places on Earth."
"I didn't *ask* you to--"
Ethan rolled his eyes and got into the car. Giles followed, reaching down to scoot the passenger seat back as he sat down.
"Anyway," Giles continued, "It's your bloody fault I need a new car, anyway."
"*My* fault? How's that? I did nothing to your car. Why would I have bothered? That car shamed itself. It didn't need any help from me."
Giles glared. "Spike destroyed it while I was a Fyarl demon."
"Oh. Well, you can hardly be angry with me over that. You're better off without that heap of rubbish."
"That 'heap of rubbish' only cost me a hundred and fifty dollars, and it ran perfectly well for four years until that load of concrete fell on it."
"Rule of thumb, Rupert. If the car costs less than twenty-five grand it's not worth driving."
"Oh, please. There's nothing wrong with being frugal."
"It's a *car*, Giles. It's an expression of who you are. All that old heap said was that you were a forty-six-year-old, well-past-his-prime librarian who hadn't had sex in ten years."
Giles couldn't think of a response to that right away, since it was more-or-less true.
"Well," he said, eventually, ruefully. "I rather am."
"True," Ethan said, "Except for the sex part, of course." He turned a corner, then said, "My point, however, is that it's really not necessary to advertise that fact to the entire world."
"So, my car should lie about me, then? In a very expensive manner?"
"Of course not. That would simply be pathetic. No, it should emphasize your better qualities."
"Such as my impressive ability to sustain head injuries?" Giles suggested wryly. "Perhaps a nice ambulance would do the trick."
Ethan snorted, scowling. "Self-deprecation doesn't suit you." He pulled into a spot in front of the show room, shut off the car, and turned to face Giles. "You're a desperately handsome, deeply sensual, vastly intelligent, powerful man, Rupert. Stop selling yourself short."
He got out of the car, leaving Giles flabbergasted. Giles had to jog to catch up with him. Ethan headed straight for a salesman.
Before Giles could speak, Ethan said, "My friend here wants a car. A red one. Nothing less than a V6."
Giles cringed a bit as he all but saw the dollar signs flash in the salesman's eyes.
Half an hour later, he was pulling off the lot for a test drive in a shiny, red contraption. He hissed with alarm as it leapt out into the street with a slight press of the pedal. Ethan knocked his hand away from the gear-shift a moment before he put the automatic transmission into neutral. "Let it alone, Rupert."
They rode in silence, Giles focused on not touching the gearshift and on not letting the car run away with him. It was growing on him. The growl of the engine, the split-second turning. Beside him, Ethan reached out and hit the button to put the top down. The afternoon sun and a perfect California breeze flooded in, and Giles found himself relaxing back in the seat and grinning. It *was* rather a nice car.
They reached the freeway, and Giles couldn't resist gunning the engine. The car roared and lunged, like a horse given its head bursting into a glorious gallop.
The thrilled tingle that went through him was almost sexual.
By the time he pulled back into the dealer, he was feeling exhilarated. He stopped the car by the door and turned, about to ask Ethan if he'd noticed the looks they'd got as they detoured through downtown.
His words caught in his throat, though, stopped by the intensity in Ethan's eyes.
"Buy the car, Ripper," Ethan said.
Then he got out and walked back to his rental, turned it on, pulled out, and left.
The salesman found Giles still looking off in the direction he'd gone.
"So," the salesman said, "What do you think?"
Giles ran his fingers over the smooth leather of the steering wheel, feeling the warmth of the sunlight sunk into the soft material.
He smiled slightly.
"I'll take it."
***
"What are *you* still doing here?" Giles said, peering over his own bare shoulder at the man who was lying on his back behind him, one hand tucked behind his head, the other resting on his chest.
Giles rolled over, up on his side facing Ethan, finding it easier to glare at him in this position. Ethan rolled up onto his own side, mirroring Giles' position. "Really, Rupert. We shared something special and now you're tossing me out?" he drawled.
"Yes," Giles said, succinctly.
"I'm hurt. Really, I am."
"Good. Go away."
Ethan didn't.
"Fine." Giles rolled over the other way and got out of the bed, dragging a sheet with him, even though it wasn't as if there were a single centimeter of his body Ethan hadn't seen yet. "Stay. I'm leaving."
Naturally, by the time he walked out the door, Ethan was out of bed and dogging his every step.
"Why do you feel the need to torment me?" Giles asked.
Ethan pressed a button on the device on his keyring and his rental car chirped as it unlocked. "Says the man who's getting a willingly-given lift to a car dealership... undoubtedly one of the dullest places on Earth."
"I didn't *ask* you to--"
Ethan rolled his eyes and got into the car. Giles followed, reaching down to scoot the passenger seat back as he sat down.
"Anyway," Giles continued, "It's your bloody fault I need a new car, anyway."
"*My* fault? How's that? I did nothing to your car. Why would I have bothered? That car shamed itself. It didn't need any help from me."
Giles glared. "Spike destroyed it while I was a Fyarl demon."
"Oh. Well, you can hardly be angry with me over that. You're better off without that heap of rubbish."
"That 'heap of rubbish' only cost me a hundred and fifty dollars, and it ran perfectly well for four years until that load of concrete fell on it."
"Rule of thumb, Rupert. If the car costs less than twenty-five grand it's not worth driving."
"Oh, please. There's nothing wrong with being frugal."
"It's a *car*, Giles. It's an expression of who you are. All that old heap said was that you were a forty-six-year-old, well-past-his-prime librarian who hadn't had sex in ten years."
Giles couldn't think of a response to that right away, since it was more-or-less true.
"Well," he said, eventually, ruefully. "I rather am."
"True," Ethan said, "Except for the sex part, of course." He turned a corner, then said, "My point, however, is that it's really not necessary to advertise that fact to the entire world."
"So, my car should lie about me, then? In a very expensive manner?"
"Of course not. That would simply be pathetic. No, it should emphasize your better qualities."
"Such as my impressive ability to sustain head injuries?" Giles suggested wryly. "Perhaps a nice ambulance would do the trick."
Ethan snorted, scowling. "Self-deprecation doesn't suit you." He pulled into a spot in front of the show room, shut off the car, and turned to face Giles. "You're a desperately handsome, deeply sensual, vastly intelligent, powerful man, Rupert. Stop selling yourself short."
He got out of the car, leaving Giles flabbergasted. Giles had to jog to catch up with him. Ethan headed straight for a salesman.
Before Giles could speak, Ethan said, "My friend here wants a car. A red one. Nothing less than a V6."
Giles cringed a bit as he all but saw the dollar signs flash in the salesman's eyes.
Half an hour later, he was pulling off the lot for a test drive in a shiny, red contraption. He hissed with alarm as it leapt out into the street with a slight press of the pedal. Ethan knocked his hand away from the gear-shift a moment before he put the automatic transmission into neutral. "Let it alone, Rupert."
They rode in silence, Giles focused on not touching the gearshift and on not letting the car run away with him. It was growing on him. The growl of the engine, the split-second turning. Beside him, Ethan reached out and hit the button to put the top down. The afternoon sun and a perfect California breeze flooded in, and Giles found himself relaxing back in the seat and grinning. It *was* rather a nice car.
They reached the freeway, and Giles couldn't resist gunning the engine. The car roared and lunged, like a horse given its head bursting into a glorious gallop.
The thrilled tingle that went through him was almost sexual.
By the time he pulled back into the dealer, he was feeling exhilarated. He stopped the car by the door and turned, about to ask Ethan if he'd noticed the looks they'd got as they detoured through downtown.
His words caught in his throat, though, stopped by the intensity in Ethan's eyes.
"Buy the car, Ripper," Ethan said.
Then he got out and walked back to his rental, turned it on, pulled out, and left.
The salesman found Giles still looking off in the direction he'd gone.
"So," the salesman said, "What do you think?"
Giles ran his fingers over the smooth leather of the steering wheel, feeling the warmth of the sunlight sunk into the soft material.
He smiled slightly.
"I'll take it."