the Final Cut

Disclaimer: Characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: the Series are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, the WB, and UPN.

Part III

“Dear God in heaven,” Jenny blurted, surprise momentarily undercutting her determined paganism. “Two Ethan Raynes? This just keeps getting worse!” She shook her head. “I’ll have some of that brandy after all. Suddenly I think I need it.”

Giles fetched it for her, along with a fresh cup of tea. “By that point,” he said, setting the cup in front of her, “I was willing to use any resource I could acquire. I had estimated perhaps twelve hours, probably more, between your capture and my finding of Angelus’s note. Another two hours to scout the factory, send up a flare for Ethan, gather tools and weapons and spell materials, and secure Ethan’s cooperation once he arrived; then another hour of arguing with Xander, adjusting our supplies to accommodate a third member in the party, finalizing the basic plan — such as it was — and returning to the factory. Add in at least another two hours working our way through the involution before reaching the chamber where we faced our counterparts. By then, I knew you would have been in captivity for eighteen hours or more, and was … increasingly concerned.”

“I know,” Jenny said, and took a long swallow of the spiked tea. “I know. It’s just … at least, with Xander along, the two of you had him outnumbered. Add in another one —”

Giles smiled at that. “Actually, there was little chance of them colluding against us, they seemed more inclined to compete with one another. Honestly, it never would have occurred to me that Ethan could be so jealous of … well, of himself.”

“Makes sense to me,” Jenny muttered. “Mister Center-of-Attention wouldn’t like sharing the spotlight with anyone who had the same-sized ego.”

“It’s a decent theory, I suppose,” Giles said, musing. “At the time, though, it was simply an annoyance that could have become a significant difficulty.”

“I don’t care,” Jenny said, settling herself more snugly into the blanket Giles had brought her. “Not as long as you and Xander got out okay.” She gave him a quick glance. “You both did, right?”

Giles smiled at her. “I can confirm that I did not die at any time in the proceedings. Nor did Xander … this, of course, not including the fate of our mystical duplicates.” That brought a thought, and he added some brandy to his own tea, focusing on the precise, controlled movements to keep his expression from changing. “The immediate peril to us may have been more severe, but Xander and I have suffered considerably greater injury in the past than any we sustained in this particular enterprise. You needn’t concern yourself on that point.”

“Thanks,” Jenny said, “but that brings us back to my earlier concern. Namely, two Ethan Raynes. I’m still trying to get my mind to grasp the thought, and you can’t tell me that wasn’t a complication you could have done without.”

“It was … unwelcome, initially, yes.” Giles sipped at his fortified tea. “In the end, however, I’d have to say it proved to be a fortunate turn for us. There were a few dodgy bits at the beginning, of course, but once we had those sorted it went … more or less smoothly from then on …”

*               *               *

“Take off your shirt,” Xander said as soon as it became clear they wouldn’t be killing or even forcibly separating themselves from the second Ethan Rayne.

At the command, that man regarded him with curiosity rather than defiance, asking mildly, “Why?”

“Staying out of the way of oncoming clichés,” Xander answered. He gestured with the axe. “Off. Now.”

One eyebrow lifted slightly (in query or mockery, or perhaps both), the other Ethan removed the dark red knit shirt, leaving him in a gray sleeveless tee. Xander took the shirt from him and tossed it away over his shoulder. “Okay, then,” he said. “I’m not up for any games of ‘which one is the real one?’, so: our Ethan still has his shirt on. Our guest doesn’t. That’s that.”

The shirtless Ethan smiled. “Ah. I thought perhaps you were choosing this moment to come out of the closet. And then I naturally began to wonder if we could persuade Ripper to join us —”

“Shut up, Ethan!” Giles snapped, and “Hey!” the non-shirtless version objected. “I’m Ethan, you pillock!”

Giles rounded on him. “It’s still the way your smarmy little mind works, so don’t be acting offended.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” that Ethan said. “Any time someone can get under your skin, I’ll cheer for more. But that’s not the point.”

“Nathan,” Xander said.

The others looked at him, Giles and Ethan both saying, “What?”

“Nathan,” Xander repeated. He indicated the double. “Not-Ethan, no-shirt Ethan, maybe even neutral Ethan. Nathan.”

The three men eyed one another, and then not-Ethan smiled. “Hullo, I’m Nathan,” he said to Ethan. “I believe we’ve met?”

Ethan didn’t return the smile. “Feel perfectly free to sod yourself,” he said in answer.

“You are myself,” Nathan observed. “So was that in the way of a proposition —?”

Giles had found that there were times when the best way to deal with Ethan was to ignore him. With two versions on hand, it seemed even more called-for. To Xander he said, “Having us switch opponents was brilliant; even aside from avoiding potential stalemate, you saved us from the ticklish problem of determining, at the end, which of us was the ‘right’ version. How on earth did you formulate such a masterful move on the spur of the moment?”

Xander grinned at him: the familiar Xander, not the one he had just seen kill two men (for a loose definition of ‘men’) in the space of five seconds. “Got it from Star Trek,” he explained happily. “You know, the ‘That Which Survives’ episode? Three Lee Meriwethers in purple halter tops and harem pants, one each to kill Kirk and McCoy and Sulu, only the guys switch positions so each is facing the woman whose touch can’t kill him? Worked for them, figured it’d work for us.”

Giles closed his eyes briefly. “In those first moments, then, your survival tactics for the three of us hinged on your familiarity with … popular culture?”

Xander nodded, still grinning. “And that doesn’t even count what I learned about fight strategy from Dragon Ball Z.”

Giles shuddered. He had no idea what that meant, and no desire to compromise his sweet, sweet ignorance.

“If you two are done cooing at each other,” Ethan — no, Nathan — cut in, “I may have some news for you.”

Giles and Xander turned to him, expressions skeptical. “Yes?” Giles said.

“Ah, now who’s looking with paranoid eyes?” Nathan smiled as Giles stonily refused to wince. “Untwist your knickers for a bit, Ripper, this could actually be good for us. The little choose-your-own-adventure scenario we’re in right now? Someone just made an addition to it.”

“Further perils, appended to those we already face?” Giles shook his head. “I fail to see anything encouraging —”

“You wouldn’t,” Nathan interrupted. “You’re not part of the fabric of this place. I am. When it changes — that is, when it’s changed from outside — I feel it, and I just felt something inserted that wasn’t here before.”

The other three traded looks, and Ethan observed, “If he’s telling the truth — and let’s never forget he could very well not be — it could be almost anything. Unlikely to be vampires, of course, this enviro would burn at them about half as bad as sunlight. Demons, though, or any of several different breeds of hellhound, or supernatural beasties primed to hunt us …”

“I don’t think so,” Nathan interjected smoothly. “No guarantees, but … first, it wasn’t a thing sent here, it was a place, a space, containing something. Second, what was contained: it has a familiar feel to it. Something like you three, in fact.”

“Human?” Giles asked sharply; and then, whisper-soft, “Jenny?”

“So we’re supposed to believe,” Ethan said. He was directly facing his twin, body square-set in the hackles-up bristling he had shown from the beginning, utterly unlike the amused needling that had been his easy response to open hostility from Giles and Xander. “He shows up to kill us, decides to play us instead of going with direct force: this sudden new information has to be a trap. Just another brick in the wall.”

Xander gave him a very nasty grin, looking something like satisfied for the first time. “Dude, even I can see that one was totally feeble. Who doesn’t know that line from the Floyd? You’re getting desperate.”

“We’re in a trap already,” Giles told Ethan steadily. “If Jenny is the bait, that’s where I’ll go, that’s what this has all been for.” To Nathan he added, soft and even, “If she’s not there, if you’re deceiving us from sheer cruelty, I promise you will live long enough to regret it … but only just.”

Nathan grimaced. “I told you no guarantees,” he said peevishly. “If you don’t believe me, don’t go. If it doesn’t work out, I’d really rather not be blamed for something I didn’t actually have to tell you.”

“Uh, guys —?” Xander prompted, looking around.

“Yes, yes, let’s continue our discussion while we move on.” Giles motioned Nathan ahead (he’d no intention of putting that one at his back), following in a position somewhat behind and to the right that would allow him, with a slight shift, to bring the crossbow to bear on the man if necessary. “Even if you are, indeed, a … less negative version of Ethan, I do find myself wondering what you hope to gain by aiding us.”

Nathan opened the door at the far end of the room, stuck his head out to look both ways, and then stepped out into the new corridor with the others trailing him. “There’s only four things worth chasing after,” he tossed back over his shoulder, suddenly cheerful again. “Sex, profit, survival, and artistic satisfaction.” He waved one hand to take in their surroundings. “You can forget about artistry, here, and the same for profit. Already ruled out sex, more’s the pity —” His voice clearly communicated the leer. “— so that only leaves the one little piggy.” He glanced back at Giles. “I want to live. Quel surprise, right?”

“He’s a game character,” Xander said, a half-second after Giles had recognized what Nathan meant. “He lasts only as long as the game does. But if we leave, if the game ends —”

“Exactly,” Nathan agreed. “This scenario was built for a purpose, and I don’t see its creators keeping it going once it’s fulfilled that purpose or failed to. When it fades out or shuts down, I’d rather be outside where I might have a chance to … keep existing.”

Giles frowned. “You said yourself that you’re part of the fabric of this reality. It seems highly unlikely that the energies maintaining you could continue in the outer world.”

“Yeah,” Xander threw in again. “Like a holodeck character on the Enterprise-D trying to leave the holo chamber. Poof!” He sounded not the least dismayed by the prospect.

“And exactly what energies are maintaining you three?” Nathan asked sharply. “You’re not from here, but you don’t seem to be winking out.” He made a general gesture of frustration. “However I came into being, I am now, and I’d like to keep doing that.”

“I’m not sure the comparisons balance as simply as that,” Giles said, raising the crossbow to cover a doorway as they passed it. “Xander’s example is crude, but remains pertinent. The involution is, in a sense, contained within our own reality, we merely moved from one level to another. You, on the other hand —”

“— will be trying to do the same in reverse.” Nathan finished. “Yes, I know it’s long odds, but still the only chance I’ve got. I think that, when we’ve found the exit, the three of you can form a kind of containment around me — better if there were five of you, to make a proper pentagram, but the basic theory should hold — to shield me during transition. Once we’re on the other side —”

“Then we’ll have no bloody use for you!” Ethan snarled. “Besides which it’d never work to begin with, the whole thing is sheer bleeding nonsense!”

“So why am I wasting my time on it?” Nathan snapped back. “This is my life here, I’ve no desire to throw it away. And it’s not nonsense, I know everything you do and I have a sense of this place that you don’t, and I’m saying there’s a chance.” He looked to Giles, and his tone turned wheedling. “You were always willing to give the original Ethan another chance, Ripper. Why not do as much for his slightly less unethical twin?”

“Trick,” Xander called from where he was functioning as rear guard. “When the guy who doesn’t have a better nature tries to appeal to yours? definitely a trick.”

Giles sighed. “All the same, it’s true,” he said; then, to Nathan, “If you keep your word, if we live to effect an exit, if the process you’re suggesting turns out in fact to be possible … then we’ll do our best to bring you out safely with us.”

“Speak for yourself!” Ethan spat.

“I speak for us all,” Giles told him coldly. “You agreed to join me in this quest; we are committed together. If you forsake your promise out of spite, I have no more use for you … but you’ll do no such thing, for I won’t allow it.”

For once, Ethan had no ready answer; wisely, Nathan forbore tossing back some Nyah-nyah! comment of his own. After a moment, however, Xander said, “Not sure the world would thank you for doubling its Ethan Rayne infestation, G-Man.”

“Don’t call me that,” Giles said automatically. “And the matter will arise only if we all reach the exit alive, so let’s concentrate on that part for now, shall we?”

“He’ll cozy you along till your guard slips,” Ethan insisted, grim and sullen. “Then he’ll do the dirty on you at the worst possible moment. Just you see.”

Nathan laughed. “If that’s how your mind works, no wonder Ripper thought an adjusted copy of you might be an improvement.”

“Don’t start again,” Giles warned, meaning it for both men. To Nathan he said, “You seem to be leading us in a particular direction. Does that mean you can feel the location of …” He wouldn’t say Jenny, wouldn’t let wild hope compromise his objectivity. “… of the new element?”

“No, I can’t,” Nathan replied. “Sorry. I felt it when it arrived, though, and it was more or less that way —” He pointed. “— and up. It’s not a beacon, if we lose our bearings we’re in hard cheese, but it gives us something to go on.”

“Very well.” It would be difficult not to become disoriented in these featureless rooms and hallways, but still it could be counted as a small advantage to have at least a vague idea of which way they should be going. That way and up … better than they’d had before, and he’d be glad for it.

Nathan gave a little laugh. “And just so you don’t accuse me of leading you into an ambush: the obstacles naturally increase as you get closer to the prize, so you can bet we’ll run into more opposition going this way.”

Which they very quickly did.

*               *               *

Jenny was frowning, either not understanding or simply not certain she had understood properly. At last she said, “They stuck me … inside this, this mystical video-game environment you were fighting your way through? Or was your mirror-Ethan just lying about that part?”

“No, it wasn’t a lie.” Giles placed his hand on hers again. “I don’t mind telling you that I drew considerable strength from that. It was no longer a matter, you see, of working our way through the involution in hope of being able to locate and recover you once we’d found our way out; now, the involution itself was the way to you. It made a difference to me that I … can’t properly express.”

“I can see that,” Jenny agreed. “It’s just, the thing itself doesn’t make sense. To have me in the involution, part of the trap, the center of the trap, I could understand that. But putting me in after you were already inside, I guess I don’t see the point. Is there something I’m missing?”

Giles shook his head, sighed. “I could offer theories, I’m sure. The involution was designed as a set of snares for the Slayer — in fact, Ethan had earlier confirmed that the traps and attackers we had encountered would have subtly and systematically drained away from her the force she used to fight past them — so our presence in her place may have unbalanced the operation in such a way that your insertion was necessary to keep it going. By the same token, the spell-working that pitted us against mirror-images of ourselves: that was a major undertaking, and it may be that you had to be fed in as the price of such a spell … though, of course, your arriving after it would indicate against such an interpretation. It’s even possible that you were in fact prepared or placed in such a way as to be the final trap, and it failed either because our two Ethans nullified the trigger in our approach to your location or because it was designed specifically to be sprung by the proximity of a Slayer.” He shrugged, regarding her with a slight smile. “Ultimately, I suspect the answer is quite a bit more simple than any of those possibilities.”

Jenny nodded understanding. “You mean, Drusilla just did it on a whim. Maybe because she knew something we don’t — she really is psychic, we can’t let ourselves forget that part — or maybe for reasons that wouldn’t make sense to any rational mind.” She hugged herself inside the blanket, seeming both smaller and older. “I’m … I’m terrified of her, Rupert. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. What if it isn’t over? What if this was … was only the first part of some process too crazy or convoluted for us to follow?” Her voice sunk to a whisper, faint and shaking: “What if she comes for me again?”

“If she does, she will die.” Giles’s tone, in deliberate contrast, was firm and resolute. “Buffy is maintaining overwatch of this flat, and will likewise watch over you when the time comes that you choose to leave. I have a message out to Sam Zabuto, urgently requesting Kendra’s presence here; the danger posed by Drusilla, Spike, and Angelus has gone on long enough, and I mean to bring it to an end.” He leaned toward her, trying to will strength to her through his eyes. “I will see it end, and you will be guarded until I do. On that, you have my sworn word.”

“Oh,” Jenny said. “Okay, then. Thanks.” Then she looked up. “Buffy? So she’s back from that trip with her mother?”

“Er, yes,” Giles said. He looked back to his teacup. “I, I phoned again once I had you secure here, and was able to reach her at that time.”

“Good.” Jenny seemed to … untighten, slightly. “It’s good to know I’m safe.” She settled back again. “I hate having to depend on you, but I’m glad I can.”

“You can,” Giles assured her. “I would … would not let anything come ahead of your safety.”

She nodded, an uneasy but firming calm beginning to replace her earlier fear, and Giles damned himself for the liar he knew himself to be.
 

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