Artistic License

Spoilers: None
Completed March 31, 2004
Disclaimer: Property of Joss and ME. Just playing.
Summary: Ethan drops by Joyce’s Gallery.
A/N: Set in the Ménageaverse after the events of Heavy Breathing. A big thanks as always to Savvy for the beta.


Joyce was looking forward to a nice relaxing evening at home. The gallery had been quiet most of the day, so naturally the hours had dragged by. Even the shipment she received that afternoon had been small and quickly taken care of. Currently she was sitting next to one of the main showroom display cases, wasting time by carefully comparing invoices and billing statements. Unfortunately, her bookkeeping was impeccable, so she was almost finished. Well, that left either dusting, or closing a bit early. Leaving early was by far the more appealing option.

The door chimed, rousing her out of her thoughts. Of course she would get a customer fifteen minutes before she closed. Well, business was business. With the entrance off-set from the room she was in, Joyce had just enough time to straighten up the papers and present a professional appearance.

“Good evening, Joyce.”

Her head snapped up at the smooth British tenor. Ethan Rayne stood before her, slick and self-possessed as ever. Joyce ignored the slight increase in heart rate he elicited.

Keeping her tone casual. “Ethan. What brings you to Sunnydale?”

“I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d drop by. Always looking for new pieces of pre-Columbian art,” he said easily, studying a display.

“From what Rupert tells me, you’re never just in the neighborhood.” She walked over to join him.

“True, I always have an ulterior motive.”

“So you aren’t here for the pre-Columbian art?” Joyce asked innocently. While it had been three weeks since she had seen him, thoughts of the night she had spent with him and Rupert still made her go weak.

“What do you think?” Ethan turned and stepped closer, stopping just short of touching her.

“That you like to live dangerously,” she closed the distance, pressing against him with a seductive smile.

“I would have to say the same goes for you as well, my dear,” he smirked as he bent to kiss her.

Joyce eluded him, not quite ready to give in just yet.

“What did you have in mind?” She moved so one of the displays was between them.

Ethan didn’t immediately reply. Good, she’d caught him off guard.

“Are you more interested in pottery or statuary?” she clarified, tone businesslike and neutral.

He surveyed the gallery. “Ceremonial masks, actually. Of which I see there is a noticeable lack.”

“For a very good reason,” Joyce explained.

“Ah, bad experience.”

“I wouldn’t call zombies overrunning my home an enjoyable one.”

“Was it Nigerian?”

“Yes, it was,” she said with surprise.

“They’re a bit notorious. I’m surprised Rupert didn’t warn you,” he said, making his way around the display.

“Well, by the time he figured it out . . .”

“It was too late,” Ethan nodded.

“Aside from ceremonial masks, what else appeals to you?”

“The human form. Female at present,” he strode closer.

Joyce watched as he approached, every movement exuding sexual confidence. Ethan was a man very aware of his abilities.

“See anything of interest?” she murmured.

“I might,” he replied, pulling her against him with a gasp.

“Might?” she rubbed against his prominent erection. “I’d say that’s more of a definite.”

“I like to keep my options open.”

“I think that decision has already been made for you.”

“It’s out of my hands?”

She reached between them and cupped Ethan firmly, “Completely.”

“A better man would argue,” he whispered, mouth a hairsbreadth from hers.

Darting out her tongue to run lightly across his lips. “What a shame,” she sighed.

“Indeed,” he conceded before taking her mouth with his own.

Slowly at first, tongues danced and explored, becoming reacquainted. Joyce’s hands wrapped around his back, finger tips reveling against the smooth, brick red fabric. Dark and bold, it suited Ethan in every respect. She let her hands travel lower, tripping along his spine, skating down and over to finally come to rest on his firm ass. Either Chaos kept him active, or he found time to work out.

Ethan broke off the kiss with a groan, and bending Joyce back, began to work his way along her jaw line, whispering against her neck as he sought her collarbone, then descended lower along the V of her blouse until he reached the buttons. Not pausing he undid one after another, following the trail down.

Joyce wrapped her right leg behind Ethan for balance as he bowed her farther back. She had never appreciated keeping up yoga over the years more than she did at that moment. Flexibility was a godsend.

Swinging her up from the dip, Ethan pulled Joyce tightly against him, his arousal in close contact with her own thanks to her leg still hooked around him and skirt now bunched near her waist.

“Much as I would love to take you right here and now, I doubt your customers would appreciate it,” he sighed, frustration evident at trying to do the noble thing.

Joyce stole a glance at her watch. “Since I officially closed five minutes ago, they aren’t a problem.”

“Wouldn’t want you to lose any business on account of me.” Without preamble, Ethan hoisted Joyce up and onto the nearby counter-top.

“You break it, you buy it,” she warned huskily as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. She reached out and lightly traced along his chest, around each nipple, out to each shoulder, back in and down. Not too defined but she could tell he took very good care of himself. Oh, did he ever. She bit her lip, appraising him as he stood before her, shirtless and sleek.

She watched, enchanted, as he gradually moved his hand up her thighs, thumbs grazing the sensitive insides. Reaching his destination, he hooked his fingers in the elastic. Joyce propped herself up, as Ethan slowly drew her underwear down and off.

Grabbing his waistband, she pulled him close while undoing belt, button, then zipper. Straying inside, her hand brushed against bare skin. She felt his cock jump in response to her presence. Joyce smiled, pleased. “Still no use for underwear, I see.”

“It’s a nuisance.” Then, reaching in his pocket, he pulled out and handed her a foil wrapper. “As are these. But I like to be prepared.”

“Or you’re just conceited,” she said, tearing the wrapper with her teeth.

Ethan watched as she slid the condom on him. “You don’t seem to mind.”

“I hide it well.”

He struck fast, capturing her mouth and drawing her into position.

“Ready?” he asked.

Joyce nodded before deepening the kiss. Ethan swallowed her cry as he entered her. She shifted then, letting him in farther. Arching back, Joyce had to admit this more than made up for any conceit the man had. Not only was he good, but he felt wonderful inside her. She began to move then, setting things up for him to follow or change if he would.

Ethan’s arm slipped around back, unhooking her bra. Tossing the bra with the rest of their discarded clothing, he set about paying proper attention to her now free breasts. Between the slight chill and Ethan’s skill lower, her nipples were peaked and waiting. The first touch of his tongue, hot and slick, almost sent Joyce over. She held him close as he sucked in time with his movements.

By the time he switched to the other breast, they were both close. Joyce angled her hips and his quickened thrusts hit just right. Seconds later she came, screaming his name into the empty gallery. He joined her, shaking as he spent himself.

“Fucking amazing,” he breathed, leaning against her and the counter for support.

Finally able to focus, Joyce opened her eyes to see Rupert looking at her with a mixture of anger and arousal. The door must have chimed, but she had been too hear it. How long he had been there?

Sensing something was up, Ethan turned his head.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he smirked.

“Ethan. Didn’t expect to see you back so soon,” Rupert said calmly, even though appearances indicated otherwise.

This had the potential to be awkward. Too late to avoid that now. Unabashed, with Ethan still buried within her, Joyce spoke. “I thought you and Buffy had a Slayer thing tonight?”

“So did I. But I found myself at loose ends and happened by the gallery. When I noticed the lights were still on, I figured I’d stop in,” he answered, never taking his eyes off Ethan.

“Great minds,” Ethan said.

“What are you up to, Ethan?” Rupert scrutinized him.

Unfazed, “I would think that was glaringly obvious.”

“What are you really up to?”

“Just passing through,” Ethan shrugged.

Joyce could see this turning ugly fast. If she didn’t intercede soon, she’d have a full blown pissing contest on her hands.

“Ethan, the bathroom’s just down the hall, first door on your left,” she prompted not too subtly.

He looked at her.

Let me handle this, she pleaded with her eyes.

He seemed to take the hint. Pulling out, he quickly did up his pants. Ethan bent close to her ear, nipped lightly before saying, “Rupert enjoys making a fuss. Don’t let him fool you, he’s more turned on than anything.” Adjusting her skirt, he made his way to the bathroom.

Once he was gone, Rupert opened his mouth to say something, but Joyce spoke first. “I know exactly what you’re going to say, but don’t. I’ve lived in this town long enough to know that no one is just in the neighborhood or passing through. But whatever business brought him to town is really none of my concern.”

“Joyce . . .”

She hopped down off the counter and walked toward him, still clad in only her skirt. “Can you tell me this never crossed your mind?”

He looked at her mouth agape. She mentally cheered at having gotten him off track.

“What has never crossed my mind?” he asked finally.

“This,” she motioned to the room at large and herself. “It isn’t Ethan being in town that upsets you, is it?”

He shook his head as she took closed the distance between them.

“It’s that he got here first,” she said knowingly.

“I just worry that—”

“And I appreciate that you do, but I’m an adult, Rupert. I don’t fool myself regarding Ethan; I have a pretty good idea what he’s capable of, based on his first few visits to Sunnydale.” She sighed. “That aside, I do trust him in some small measure, at least when he’s with me. I couldn’t be with him if I didn’t. I know you didn’t like that fact when we first discussed it, and I’m sure you like it even less now. But that’s how it is. So until it’s proven otherwise, I’d like you to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

Rupert was silent.

“For me, Rupert. Please.”

“You’re making her beg. How unseemly.” Joyce turned to see Ethan standing just inside the room, arms folded, surveying the scene before him.

Joyce was about to say something when Rupert pulled her to him. Brushing his fingers through her hair, his hands locked behind her head bringing her mouth to his for hard, hungry kiss. Off-guard, she could do no more than let him claim her, pouring out his rage and frustration with heated passion.

He ended the kiss, leaving her breathless and a bit dazed. If that was his response, Rupert needed to catch her with Ethan more often.

“I told you,” Ethan said knowingly, taking his place behind her, mouth toying playfully with the dangling earrings she wore. She leaned back in response, wanting more. The man could do more things with his tongue than she thought were possible.

But Rupert would have none of it. His right hand came up and brushed across her breast, caressing over and around, then cupping underneath while his thumb came up to gently massage the nipple. At the same moment he leaned in placing a series of quick teasing kisses against her lips before gently capturing the lower. Darting his tongue inside, he traced along her teeth and then farther along her palate, successfully avoiding her tongue.

While Rupert was occupied with exploring her mouth to the full extent, Ethan’s right hand came from behind, capturing her free breast. Abandoning her ears and pulling back her hair, Ethan’s oh-so-talented tongue moved along her neck, testing for the most sensitive patches. These discovered, he used a combination of teeth, lips, and tongue to worry her into distraction.

Not to be outdone, Rupert’s left hand, unoccupied until that moment, fanned across her stomach, around her waist, to her lower back where he traced lightly, drawing her closer to him. In response, Ethan’s left flitted down her stomach to plunge beneath the top of her skirt, fingers twirling ever lower through her curls until he reached her throbbing clit. Joyce moaned in frustration as she was denied the attempt to increase friction.

Their hands were everywhere, restraining but at the same time driving her higher. She had never enjoyed being the center of conflict so much before. Rupert and Ethan’s competition only served to increase her pleasure, both men determined to give her the most. When she came, she was too overwhelmed to cry out. Their touch, seemingly everywhere, only further fueling the fire that consumed her.

If not for being pressed between the two men, Joyce wasn’t sure how else she would be able to stand. While she recovered and her mind began to clear of the post-orgasmic stupor, Joyce considered her next move. It was apparent that the men needed some time alone to work things out. Well, she would just have to give it to them, wouldn’t she? That would give her ample opportunity to clean up the gallery for business tomorrow.

“I think this requires a change in location,” she suggested, voice low and rough.

“A change might not be a bad idea,” Rupert agreed. “My place?”

Joyce nodded.

They broke apart then, Joyce and Ethan seeking out their discarded clothing.

“I have a few things I need to take care of here,” Joyce said as she refastened her bra. “Would you two mind going ahead?”

The men looked at each other, then back at Joyce. Ethan smiled knowingly. He read her almost too well. Joyce thought about it for a moment and decided it wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Come on, Rupert, I believe Joyce is trying to politely ask for some time alone,” Ethan said.

“Joyce?” Rupert questioned.

“Go, I’ll join you in a while,” she replied.

Rupert inclined his head in agreement. “Ethan?” he motioned to the door and walked out.

Ethan followed, but turned back to flash a wicked grin. No almost about it, Ethan definitely read her too well.

Hearing the door close, she went and turned the lock. Fortunately no one had gotten curious and stopped in. She couldn’t help but smile at the image greeting an unsuspecting patron. Joyce may have seemed upstanding in public, but behind closed doors . . .

Sighing, she made her way back into the main room of the gallery to clean things up. Joyce hoped her gamble would pay off and that she wouldn’t find one or both of them dead upon her arrival. They’d managed not to kill each other over the years, so being alone for an hour or so shouldn’t have any unfortunate consequences. And if things went as she hoped, well, so much the better.