Menage or Three for the Road

Disclaimer: Property of Joss and ME. But oh how I wish they were mine. At least I get to play.
Summary: Ethan’s plans change when Joyce shows up at the bar he and Giles are drinking at.
A/N: Not only was Sadbhyl a phenomenal beta on this piece, but she planted the seed for the story and kept at me to write it. So you have her to thank in large part for this piece even existing. I definitely explored a lot of new areas in the writing of it. And now this story seems to be growing into something more. Who knew one simple story could grow into something so consuming? That said, there should be a little something in here for everyone even if G/J/E isn’t your OT3. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. And for more in the Menageaverse, please visit our website at http://www.responsibleadults.sadbhyl.riverworld.net.


Giles sat in the booth across from his old friend in one of Sunnydale’s dingier but still somewhat reputable bars.

“Now, isn't this more fun than kicking my ass?” Ethan asked with a rakish smile.

“No,” Giles grimaced in reply.

“Oh. It's more fun for me,” his friend said in amusement.

Having had more than enough of Ethan Rayne in the short half hour they had been together, Giles said, “Just tell me what—” he stopped, eyes caught by a woman at the bar. Excusing himself, he got up, walked over and tapped her on the shoulder. “Joyce?”

“Rupert?” she smiled with relief. “You don’t know how glad I am to see a familiar face.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Didn’t strike you as the bar type, did I?” she answered lightly.

“No, not really,” he agreed.

“I was supposed to meet someone here but they don’t seem to be showing up,” Joyce sighed. “Probably all for the best anyway. I should probably get home.”

“Would you consider sticking around if I bought you a drink?” he offered. A gesture of friendship and nothing more, of course.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Giles?” she blinked innocently.

“Oh, well, er . . .”

“I’m sorry,” she took pity on him. “I just couldn’t resist. And yes, I would love a drink.”

~*~

After getting a drink for Joyce, Rupert led her back to the table.

“Oh, you’re not alone. I don’t want to intrude,” Joyce backed up.

“You’ll be doing nothing of the sort,” Rupert said firmly.

“Glad you value my company so much, Ripper,” his companion frowned. Then looking at Joyce, he flashed a wicked grin, “But I suppose I can excuse you this once.”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” she studied the man as she sat down.

“I don’t think—”

“Remember the incident with the band candy last year?” Rupert hinted.

Oh, the band candy. Joyce was very glad the lighting was so dim. Not that she didn’t have some fond memories, but . . . “You two are friends?” she asked with surprise.

“Ripper and I go way back,” Rupert’s friend smirked. “But some of us don’t like to remember the good ol’ days, do we?”

Rupert frowned.

“Ripper,” Joyce let the name roll over her tongue. “I’ve always wanted to know more about him.”

“Well . . .” he began, searching.

“Joyce. Joyce Summers,” she supplied holding out her hand. “And you are?”

His eyebrows shot up, but he kissed her hand smoothly. “Ethan Rayne.” Then with a smile, “Well, Joyce, what would you like to know?”

“Ethan, I beg you,” Rupert tried.

“Hm, begging, that could be interesting,” Ethan considered.

Joyce didn’t miss the look that passed between the two men. It seemed like being stood up just might be the best thing that ever happened to her. Aside from the incident with the band candy, she couldn’t remember the last time she had acted freely and uninhibited. Most definitely not since college. Oh college! Wouldn’t Buffy be shocked to learn that . . . well there were some things not meant to be shared between a mother and a daughter. If she were younger, Joyce just might . . . why younger? She wasn’t exactly over-the-hill, was she? It had been far too long and life was too short, especially in this town. Why should she deny herself?

Deciding to ease the tension and stave off further thought, she flagged down the waitress for another round of drinks. Then turning to Rupert, “I do know about Eyghon, I’m not that out of the loop. Plus I’ve seen a bit of Ripper myself, if you remember,” she said casually. “Subduing that officer and then the hood of the police car . . .”

“Joyce!” Rupert was aghast. Wouldn’t he be surprised to hear about her college days!

~*~

Ethan studied the two and reconsidered his plans for the evening. This might turn out better than he hoped. The Fyarl demon could wait. It was far more fun to make Ripper squirm in front of a woman he was apparently fond of. Who knows, he might be able to get Ripper to make an appearance if he played things right. One of the many great things about worshipping Chaos was that you were never upset by a change of plans.

~*~

Three rounds later, Giles had accepted his fate and joined Ethan in recounting tales from their shared past. And Joyce, seated between the two in the corner booth they now occupied, now seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. She was bloody amazing, that’s what it was. Feeling a bit more Ripper-like than he had in some time, he decided to play with fire. Slinging an arm around Joyce, he leaned in close and asked huskily, “So, what about you, my dear? We’ve shared our secrets, only fair that you share yours.”

Joyce leaned back, smiling impishly, “What’s a woman have if she doesn’t have her secrets?”

“Plenty,” Ethan leaned in on her other side. “Believe me, there’s much to be gained in the telling.”

“What could I possibly get in return?” she asked, a slight note of suggestion in the question.

“That all depends on what you want, Joyce,” Ripper leaned in and nibbled on her ear in the way he remembered she liked.

“And I’ll double your pleasure, my lady,” Ethan whispered against her neck.

“Mm,” Joyce enjoyed the moment. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

The old friends exchanged a glance. Looked like the old days weren’t so far gone after all.

After paying off their tab, the group made their way out into the night.

It was fortunate that Giles’ apartment was only a block from the bar, otherwise the trio might not have made it much farther than the back alley.

As it was, they had barely exited the bar before Giles had Joyce pressed against the brick wall. He leaned over her, Ripper stirring just beneath the surface.

“You don’t have to go through with this,” he stated.

“Last time I checked I wasn’t being forced to do anything,” she said simply. “Now if you wanted to tie me up later on . . .”

Oh, Ripper definitely liked that idea. All gentlemanly intentions left the scene with her suggestion.

Joyce pulled him to her, kissing him long and deep. Breaking away, “You don’t have to go through with this, either.”

Ethan pressed close behind him. Voice slick, “Ripper never was one to back down—he knows I wouldn’t let him. And, as I’m sure you can attest, Joyce, his interest is fully piqued.”

Joyce reached around and grabbed a hold of Ethan’s pants, pulling him snug against Giles, and Giles against herself. “And how is Ethan’s interest, Rupert?” she queried.

“Undeniable,” he attested.

“Well then, all parties agreed, shall we depart?” Ethan asked.

Somehow, despite the tangle that they were, they managed to finally reach Giles’ flat.

“You did something to our drinks,” Giles accused while fumbling for his keys. A relatively simple task hindered not only by a large quantity of alcohol but by Joyce and Ethan’s careful ministrations on either side. With Ethan’s wandering hands and tongue and Joyce’s oh so talented nibbling, it was a wonder he could even think at all.

“Not that I’m above it, old man, but rest assured that I had nothing to do with this,” Ethan said, tone playful. “If there is anyone to blame, Joyce is a good candidate. Had she not shown up—”

“Always blame the woman,” Joyce glared at Ethan over Giles’ back.

“Now did I say that was a bad thing?” Ethan caught Joyce’s mouth.

Joyce denied Ethan entry at first, but after abandoning Gilhe dhe devoted her full attention to gaining dominance over the other man. Ethan’s hands would go seeking and she would bat him away, only to do the same to him. Joyce seemed to want to call the shots.

His companions’ current distraction with one another allowed Giles the brief reprieve he needed, once he managed to look away, to find his keys and unlock the door. He stood in the doorway, looking back at the pair. Ethan always did have a way with the ladies.

Having had enough watching for one lifetime, Giles cleared his throat.

Ethan broke away from Joyce to look at him. “The Ripper I knew never waited for anything. He took what he wanted.”

“Did he?” Ripper grinned coolly, pulling Ethan away from Joyce and pinning him against the door. An instant later he was devouring the other man’s mouth. Ethan had a way with the men as well.

~*~

Joyce watched the two men. Well, that was something they certainly failed to mention in their storytelling, not that she was surprised, considering a few things that had taken place over the evening. Of course, she couldn’t see the three of them here, together, if not for a bit of history on their part. And while she was one who appreciated good art, Joyce was a little putout at being on the sidelines. One could be content with only watching for so long.

She didn’t realize Ethan was looking at her until he spoke, “The lady’s feeling left out, Ripper.”

Without turning around, Ripper reached a hand behind him and pulled Joyce between him and Ethan.

“Can’t have that now, can we?” Ripper said, voice low, as his hand began to trace languidly between her breasts.

Ethan, taking the low road, murmured in her ear, “We are gentlemen, after all. Ladies come first.”

If not for the two men pinning her in on either side, Joyce would have melted to the floor then. Their gentle teasing in and of itself was enough to send her over the edge, but when Rupert’s hand snuck between the buttons of her shirt and Ethan’s under the hem of her skirt, simultaneously and of one mind, she let out a deep moan.

Their hands were everywhere, dipping and tracing, feather-light touches replaced by slight pressure only to flit away again. It was overwhelming and too little at the same time. There was no discerning which was which anymore, not that she cared.

And then they stopped.

Joyce blinked her eyes open, staring at the men in confusion, realizing that she was the only one against the door.

“The neighbors,” they said, in perfect unison.

Did they really think she gave a damn about the neighbors at a time like this?

She pushed herself off of the door and stood on not-too-steady legs. They thought they were in charge here? Well, then. “Are you suggesting,” she slunk up to Rupert, snaking a hand around his belt and pulling him to her, “that we take this inside?” She undid the belt in one smooth motion, “Because the only neighbors I see are the palms,” button and zipper were next, followed by her hand sneaking in, “and maybe a philodendron or two.” She brushed his rigid cock almost imperceptibly causing him to jump against her hand. Tightening her grip, she began stroking him slowly. “I don’t think we’re going to make it inside, do you?”

Rupert was lost and unable to reply.

Only then did she feel Ethan’s arms wrap around her waist, slowly tugging her skirt up for easier access. “I do believe inside,” he whispered, tracing along the satin she wore, “is overrated.”

If Joyce had the ability to, she would have agreed.

When Ethan’s fingers deftly slipped under the elastic and into her wet center, Joyce let out of a gasp of surprise. He was still for a moment, letting her get used to his presence, then he began to move in and out in slow, steady strokes. Remembering that she had something to do as well, Joyce began anew with Rupert, adopting the pace Ethan set. Imperceptibly he increased the rhythm, adding a second finger to the first.

Feeling that Giles was close, Joyce began to lean more into Ethan, trying to work for her own release. As if reading her mind, Ethan’s other hand slipped from her waist to tease her clit, slowly building her up. Fortunately Giles came first, allowing Joyce to give herself over completely to Ethan’s ministrations, oblivious to her now damp shirt.

“Mm, we can’t have that now,” Ethan murmured in her ear, his fingers twisting just so. “Ripper never was half the gentleman I was. I assure you, with me, the lady always comes first.”

And with that, Ethan sent her crashing over the edge.

~*~

Ethan made himself a drink while his two companions recovered on the sofa. This was proving to be a much better evening than he’d hoped for. It was lucky he was a man who took more pleasure in giving than receiving, for there had been little receiving on his part. He did always derive a certain amount of satisfaction in the control of others. But the night was young, things could and likely would change. Oh, they most definitely would.

Joyce and Rupert seemed to be plotting something; he could just barely make out their hushed conversation. They both turned to look at him.

“Too much for you, eh, old friend?” Ripper questioned.

Ethan finished off his scotch and made his way to the couch. “More like not enough.”

“I believe Ethan’s feeling left out now, Rupert,” Joyce commented.

“By choice,” Ripper answered knowingly. Good to see he hadn’t forgotten anything. “Ethan likes to feel in control of things.”

“Does he?” Joyce nearly purred, eyeing Ethan predatorily, as if seeking out his weakness. She stood and made her way around the back of the couch to face him. “So what comes next? Or should I ask who?”

Distracted by Joyce, Ethan didn’t know Rupert was behind him until the other had seized him firmly about the chest. An instant later Joyce had his pants undone and around his ankles. He smiled at Joyce’s surprise at finding nothing else under his trousers except what his maker had given him.

“I think Rupert officially has some competition,” she grinned as she viewed him. She looked at Rupert, “He’s definitely not overcompensating for that.”

“A bloke has to cushion his ego somehow,” Rupert sighed.

“I didn’t say he had you beat,” she said. “Only time will determine that.”

Joyce knelt down. “Still think you’re in charge?”

She was on Ethan before he could reply. Using only her tongue at first, Joyce teased the head before working her way down the shaft. At the base, she gave the underside one smooth, firm lick all the way to the tip and then engulfed him completely in one quick motion. Alternating between a twirl of her tongue and sucking in her cheeks, she moved along his length, steady and relentless. In minutes, between Joyce’s skillful tongue and Rupert’s mere presence, he was shaking with release. So much for running the show.

~*~

Giles watched Joyce rise from the floor, a look of smug satisfaction toying at her lips as she wiped away the escaped remnants of Ethan’s climax, then licked her fingers clean. Maybe the band candy had only been an excuse. It wasn’t that he thought Joyce was incapable of the lack of inhibition she had shown this evening, but she was a mother and . . . oh, who was he kidding. Mr. Moldy Books and Tweed? He knew better than to judge based on appearances or situation.

“You can let go anytime, old man,” Ethan broke into his thoughts. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

“Oh, yes, right,” he let go.

“Uh oh, looks like Rupert’s had too much time to think,” Joyce said knowingly.

“A very dangerous thing,” Ethan stated, turning to eye him. “And he seems a bit overdressed, wouldn’t you agree, Joyce?”

Joyce, whose blouse had been undone during their fun on the patio, nodded and slid the garment off. “I think it’s time we remedied that.”

“You read my mind,” Ethan pulled her to him for a searing kiss, deftly removing her bra in the process.

“Mm,” Joyce grinned as she divested Ethan of his shirt.

With Joyce naked from the waist up and Ethan clad only in that irrepressible smirk of his, Giles was feeling quite out-of-place in his simple shirt and khakis. His hands went to his buttons of their own volition, but were soon stilled by Joyce.

“I don’t think so,” Joyce said warningly, taking over the joban aan achingly slow place. “There’s no fun in that.”

Reaching around Joyce, Ethan began to inch out Giles’ belt, snaking it around Joyce to settle it upon his neck. “This might come in handy later on.”

Ethan then undid the pants Giles had refastened not ten minutes earlier. Giles wasn’t sure whether it was he or Joyce that moaned as Ethan slid the pants down in a lingering drop.

Joyce finally removed his shirt as Ethan reached the floor with his pants.

Peaking around Joyce’s skirt, Ethan let out a discontented sigh. “Oh, Ripper, how the mighty have fallen. Boxer-briefs?”

“It’s more practical,” he sniffed.

“Lends a bit of mystery for those who are unfamiliar,” Joyce said lightly. “At least they aren’t white.”

“Small consolation,” Ethan said.

“Could you both possibly draw this out any longer?” Giles growled in frustration.

Ethan stood, his face unreadable. “Patience is a virtue, old friend.” With that said, he swept Joyce into his arms and made his way to the stairs, leaving Giles to stand alone in his navy boxer-briefs.

“Bloody show o Gil Giles muttered, watching them ascend. Ethan would pay dearly for this. Ripper grinned, but that was part of the fun, wasn’t it? He took his time walking up the stairs, letting Ethan enjoy the upper-hand for the little time he still had it.

~*~

Ethan set Joyce down on Rupert’s bed and considered her as she lay there.

“You look perplexed,” she commented.

He nodded toward her skirt. “I seem to have overlooked one tiny detail.”

“I’m surprised it’s still there,” she bit her lip. “What do you intend to do about it, Mr. Rayne?”

“Formalities at this late date, Ms. Summers? Very well then,” he agreed, pulling her to her knees on the bed. He wrapped one arm around her and with his free hand began to slowly drag down the skirt zipper. “What I intend to do is far from honorable. Now if you’ll be so kind.”

Joyce stood before Ethan and let the skirt pool at her feet. She remained standing, unashamed, in her simple satin underwear.

“You are a vision, Joyce Summers,” Ethan said, his tone sincere and touched with awe.

She fought down a blush at his words. How long had it been since she’d received such a complement and had it mean something? Maybe never.

Ethan began trailing kisses across her collarbone, down between her breasts, and paused to linger on her stomach when she shivered.

“Soft,” she felt rather than heard him murmur before continuing his descent.

When he reached the waistband of her underwear, Ethan’s tongue expertly slipped in between the elastic and her skin. Joyce’s knees nearly gave out on her; she closed her eyes. She felt him kiss from just below her navel around to her right hip. After a brief pause she felt the right side being tugged down. Joyce opened her eyes and looked down to see Ethan gazing back, dark eyes dancing, the black satin caught between his teeth. Reaching a set point, he stopped and kissed his way up and across to her left hip. His next trip brought him across her soft curls; the moist teasing warmth almost sent her over but he moved on at just the right moment to keep her in suspense. Once he reached her knees, Ethan nodded towards the bed and she gladly collapsed. Past her knees, he was able to draw the underwear off the rest of the way in one smooth tug.

He gazed up at her worshipfully from the floor as she lay on the bed, trying to remember to breathe after one of the most sensual experiences of her life. A movement in the doorway caught her eye and she looked up to see Rupert observing the tableau appreciatively.

Rupert stalked into the room. Ethan stood as he approached. The two men faced off over Joyce, Rupert on her right and Ethan on her left. Joyce looked between the two men, a leisurely smile spreading across her lips.

Giving Ethan a not-so-subtle smirk, Rupert, still clad in his boxer-briefs, knelt before Joyce. Purposefully, he began to trace oh-so-delicately along her thighs. On the up-stroke he traced her outer thigh, then came down on her inner thigh. Slowly, of their own volition, her legs began to open.

Soon Rupert replaced his fingers with his lips and began to work his way slowly up, inch by frustrating inch, to the apex of her thighs. He paused, holding her gaze over still golden curls, as if asking permission once more. Then without warning, his head dropped and his tongue traced along her slit.

Joyce bucked in response. After Ethan’s undressing of her, Joyce knew it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge.

Finding her clit, Rupert began in earnest, carefully working between her folds, lapping and applying pressure in just the right spots.

Giving herself over to sensation, Joyce barely registered when he moved lower. His tongue darted into her center tentatively at first, then seeking ever deeper with increasing urgency.

Joyce sought out Ethan. He stood by patiently, stroking himself almost absentmindedly while he watched with hunger evident—though hunger for which one of them she couldn’t say.

Distracted by her thoughts, Joyce’s climax crashed upon her unawares and she came with an almost silent cry of surprise, her eyes never leaving Ethan’s.

~*~

Giles continued his ministrations until Joyce had finally stilled. He placed a reverent kiss on the patch of skin just above her curls, then got to his feet. She gave him a sated grin in return.

“Ripper you were, Ripper you always shall be,” Ethan breathed into his ear. “You always did fancy yourself the alpha.”

“Someone had to be,” Ripper said calmly. He whipped around and captured the other man’s mouth with his, ruthlessly plundering, leaving no room for doubt as to who was in charge. He snuck his hand down and grabbed a hold of Ethan’s cock. Breaking away, he held his friend’s gaze. “You are always close. But I am always first.”

He began to pump Ethan faster until the man was arching near release, then switched at the last moment to stave off climax.

A groan. “Jesus, Ripper.”

“Just like the old days,” Ripper said with a smile, still holding Ethan’s fully erect and, he knew all too well, aching member. He caught Joyce’s eye, who was watching with intent fascination. He gave her a questioning look and she nodded in return. “I believe the lady is waiting for you.”

Searching his face, Ethan asked, “You aren’t being magnanimous, are you?”

“What do you think?” Giles said pointedly.

Satisfied, Ethan licked his lips. “Had me worried there for a second.”

Giles choked back a laugh. Looks like the Master of Chaos wasn’t so sure of things after all. Probably hadn’t expected him to fall so easily back into old patterns. While Giles had denied it, Ripper would never be gone completely. He might be a bit more restrained, but once he was free, well…

“Oh, one thing,” Giles stopped him and went to his nightstand drawer. He pulled out a foil wrapper and handed it to Ethan. “Common courtesy for Joyce.”

Ethan took it with a sigh of mock exasperation. “I miss the 70s more and more.”

“For a number of reasons,” Giles agreed.

“Well stocked,” Ethan glanced in the drawer. “If I didn’t know better I would think you had planned on this.”

“If I’ve learned anything from living on the Hellmouth, it’s to always be prepared, for every eventuality.”

“I’m starting to think the two of you are all talk,” Joyce cut in, joining them. She riffled around the drawer and pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs. “These bring back some memories. Too bad they aren’t the same pair.”

“Who said they weren’t?” Giles replied.

“My friend here has always been a bit of a sentimentalist,” Ethan added, patting Giles on the shoulder.

She flashed them a smile of pure delight. “Later, then. First things first,” she grabbed the foil wrapper from Ethan and pulled him toward the bed.

First things first, indeed. Giles finally removed his last piece of clothing, then began to remove various items from the drawer. The 70s may be long gone, but that wasn’t always a bad thing.

~*~

Ethan fell back onto the bed, where he had been pushed none too gently by Joyce. Soon she knelt astride him, condom in hand and rolled it down his length.

“I’m at your mercy, Joyce,” he prompted, waiting. Now he could better understand Ripper’s anger over the band candy. To be with this woman only to have his perceived duty deprive him of her. He probably tried to justify it with some nobler reasons like saving babies, but Ethan knew better. That’s why he kept coming back, to keep the past fresh. That, and there was nothing like a hellmouth for chaos.

“Mercy?” she considered, as she positioned herself over him and slowly began her descent, in part to tease, and in part to grow accustomed to the intrusion. “Mmm. Mercy,” she rocked her hips once, “ is the furthest thing,” again, “from my mind.”

Joyce began to ride him in a steady rhythm, halting whenever he made an attempt to change pace or position. Her internal muscles clenched around him, working in counter-point to her external motions.

She leaned down with a contented groan, but never breaking the rhythm, to whisper, “Ready for a switch?”

Before he could reply, Joyce rolled so now Ethan was on top but denied complete control. There was nothing submissive in her taking the bottom. It seemed calculated. A thought which was immediately confirmed by the presence of warm, surprisingly rougher hands than remembered on his back, massaging slowly down, keeping time with Joyce.

Ethan caught the wicked glint in her eye as she stilled her movements and unlinked her ankles from around his back. He was then aware of one slick finger working its way into his rear passage.

“So gentle?” he grunted, not from discomfort, willing his muscles to relax as a second finger joined the first.

“For you?” Ripper rasped in his ear. He twisted his fingers just so, then added a third finger suddenly. “Think again.”

The fingers were quickly withdrawn to be replaced by Ripper’s sizeable erection. There was no preparation or gradual entry, just one quick thrust that drove Ethan deeper into Joyce, eliciting a low moan from all three of them in response.

Caught in the middle, it was Joyce and Ripper who set the rhythm, working back and forth to drive Ethan and themselves over the edge. Gone was the slow cadence Joyce had rode earlier, now he moved between alternating thrusts of increasing rate, building to a near frenzied pace.

One of Ripper’s hands snuck between Ethan and Joyce, seeking the bundle of nerves to give Joyce her release. With Joyce’s tightening around him and Ripper inside of him, Ethan was aware of his own near climax the mere instant before it overcame him. Joyce followed with a cry, arching into him. And last, by choice, came Ripper, shuddering against Ethan’s back as Ethan spent himself in Joyce’s still quivering center.

~*~

The trio lay sated and recovering on Rupert’s bed, minimal cleanup having been attended to.

“I will say one thing, Rupert, old man,” Ethan said, voice languorous, “you haven’t lost your touch.”

“And you thought I had?” Rupert gave his friend a look of incredulity.

“Previous visits did lead me to believe that.”

“Pray tell, how exactly?”

“The number of bruises I sustained for one,” he smirked. “You did take things to extremes. I just naturally assumed you didn’t have other outlets.”

“Didn’t seem to deter you any,” Rupert grumbled.

Ethan nudged Joyce, “See how he isn’t denying it.”

Joyce shrugged noncommittally. “Don’t put me in the middle here. I’m just an innocent by-stander.”

Both men snorted at that.

“I will say this has been one of my better visits,” Ethan remarked.

“Only better?” the host enquired.

“While you haven’t exactly lost your touch . . . oh dear, how does one put this delicately?” Ethan didn’t get the chance because Rupert was over him in a flash, pinning him to the bed.

“You were saying?” Ripper said, glaring down.

Unflappable as ever, Ethan glared back. “Well, it’s just apparent that you’re a bit out of practice. Understandable, but nonetheless disappointing.”

“That was disappointing?” Joyce sniggered.

Ethan turned his head to look at her. “I assure you, Joyce, that was disappointing. If—”

Ripper cut him off with a bruising kiss. “You never did know when to keep your mouth shut.”

Smirking, “The lady was asking a question.”

“I believe the lady wanted to stay out of it.”

“Didn’t want to be rude.”

“And that’s stopped you before?”

“You two really have to be the most chatty men I have ever met,” Joyce sighed.

“Chatty?” They exchanged a look, immediately breaking apart and coming up on either side of Joyce.

“Yes?” she blinked innocently.

“You did say ‘Don’t put me in the middle,’” Ethan agreed finally, letting his hand trail delicately along her torso.

Unruffled, “I’m entitled to change my mind.”

“Entitled, yes,” Rupert rasped huskily in her ear, “but I think,” there was a metallic snick, “we shall go with your first request.”

The two men drew away, leaving Joyce to look up at her right wrist, now firmly secured to the headboard. In moving her left hand, she realized that it too was secured to the headboard by Rupert’s belt.

Before she could protest, the two men had moved away from her and were engaged with each other in a fierce battle of tongues and wills. And Joyce was left unable to do more than just watch them, denied release from the stimulation. Should have kept her mouth shut. Well, there were worse things that . . . oh, that was—

Neither was giving ground to the other. They each had a hold of the other’s cock, working quickly to bring the other off first, straining to not concede.

Joyce sat restrained, aching with need and willing both of them to give in. She didn’t know how much more she could take. They kept building and building, fighting for dominance over the other. Suddenly they came, breaking apart with equal groans of release.

They knelt there, leaning against each other for support, recovering. Rupert made as if to leave, but Ethan pushed him down onto the bed and proceeded to lick the other man clean of their mixed ejaculations.

“That was slightly less disappointing,” she heard Ethan utter while he worked.

“Pillock,” Rupert groaned. Joyce could see his growing erection. Good to see he was so quick to recover.

Rupert pulled his friend down and proceeded to return the favor.

Joyce couldn’t help the moan that escaped. They were just too much.

They turned to look at her, equal pictures of satisfaction.

“I think she’s learned her lesson, don’t you?” Ethan said.

“Lesson?” Joyce managed.

“It seems she missed the point of our little exercise,” Rupert commented placidly.

“There are other ways,” Ethan remarked.

“Indeed there are,” Rupert agreed.

Joyce looked frantically between the two men, they weren’t going to leave her like this were th—“Oh!” she moaned again as they began to lick and nibble their way up her outstretched legs, Ethan on the left and Rupert on her right. Slowly they teased a trail higher and higher, only to skip over the center of her need and work their way up and out to the tips of her bound hands. Feeling her restraints give, Joyce grabbed both men and pulled them up to her. “Well?”

And then they were kissing her, hands on breast, stomach, dancing over her sex . . .teasing and building her up. She arched against them both alternately as they traded off. “Please,” she begged, “I need you both.”

“Joyce?”

“Both!” she said firmly.

The men quickly made themselves ready, Rupert in front and Ethan behind her.

Little by little Ethan worked his way in, prepping her to accommodate him, pausing to let her adjust. Joyce relaxed, taking him in. Rupert watched her closely, waiting until she was ready. She had done this once before, in college, on a dare and was surprised at how pleasant the experience turned out. She waited, letting her body remember the long ago intrusion, then gave the go ahead to Rupert. He positioned himself and slid in with little difficulty. His and Ethan’s show had definitely helped in that respect. Their dynamic while they worked to bring each other off had her dripping, but when they had taken to clean each other off, the aching desire had grown tenfold. There had never been a time when Joyce had been more ready.

Joyce took a deep breath and nodded. Slowly at first, they began to work back and forth, alternately pushing in and pulling out. And the pleasure began to build. She gave herself over to the sensation of having them everywhere, both inside and out; much better than the memory. She came strong and hard, pulling them over with her, spasming again and again as they spent themselves inside of her. Oh yes, she thought as she came down, definitely better than she remembered.

~*~

Carefully Ethan made his way around the living room, searching for his discarded clothing in the grey pre-dawn.

“Leaving so soon?”

He turned to see Joyce making her way down the stairs, wrapped in a blanket.

“I thought I should get out of town while Ripper was still in a good mood,” he answered, fastening his pants. “Even I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Smart man,” she agreed.

“I like to think so.”

Joyce reached the couch and stopped to study him. “You’re not one for good-byes, are you?”

“Too final,” he said, slipping into his loafers and reaching for his shirt. “I like to keep things open.”

“Part of the whole Chaos thing, I assume?”

“Part.”

Ethan felt her grab his wrist and looked to see her delicately tracing the raised scar. “This must’ve hurt. Almost getting her killed aside, Buffy’s still upset she had to forego new boots to get hers removed.”

“So you know. I’m surprised you’ll even stand in the same room as me.”

She shrugged. “I figured if Rupert let you live, there must have been a good reason. Seems you have some redeeming qualities.”

He pulled Joyce snug against himself. Then, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “Only some?”

“Some,” she confirmed, leaning into him.

“I expect your daughter would kill me on sight if she found out how I ravished her mother last night.”

“Oh, without a doubt,” Joyce said, letting go of the blanket to reach up and pull him into a hungry kiss. Drawing back, “So you had better make me a very happy woman before you leave, or I may have to let Buffy know what you were up to.”

“Is that a threat?” he asked as he backed her up against a wall.

“It’s a promise.”

“Well then,” he pressed her into the wall, “I’ll do my very best to keep you from fulfilling that promise.”

Ethan then set about properly ravishing Joyce against Rupert’s wall. Pressing her against the wall, he worked his way down along her throat to give long overdue attention to her breast. He laved and sucked her right nipple into a prominent peak then set about doing the same to the left. Satisfied, Ethan kissed his way down, pausing to tease her navel. Finally he reached her sex, snaking a tongue out to deftly tease her clit into aching arousal. Making sure she was braced against the wall, he delved deeper, tasting as he twirled his tongue just so. He made his way back up to her clit, not letting up until she began to shake. Down he went again to taste her release as she came, not stopping until she had stilled.

Getting to his feet, Ethan watched Joyce as she recovered. So intent was his study, that he didn’t notice that she had moved until he felt his pants drop to the floor. He kicked them off along with his loafers.

“Got dressed too soon,” Joyce breathed against his neck.

At that he hoisted Joyce up against the wall, allowing her just enough tio poo position herself before driving his cock up into her wet, waiting center.

“Oh God!” she arched, pulling him deeper.

“Name’s Ethan, actually,” he said, beginning to move in her.

“You really are a smart ass, aren’t you?” she moved with him.

“One of my irresistible charms.”

And then there was no more talking. Joyce threw her head back, exposing her smooth neck as she rode him. Kissing along the column, Ethan paused when he found the spot he wanted, waiting until he felt her begin to tighten around him. Pressing just enough, he sent her over the edge with a gasp. He let up just before he came hard and quick within her. Ethan felt Joyce tighten with climax a second time in response, barely finished with her first, and he stifled her cry just in time with a strong, searching kiss. Reaching between them, he rubbed her clit, building her up before the second one had even started to end, to crash over a third and final time.

Pulling out, he set her down slowly to lean against the wall.

Joyce stared at him, eyes wide, speechless.

Ethan left her momentarily to retrieve a towel from the kitchen to clean up the mess they’d made. When he finished, she finally spoke.

“I think I need to make threats more often.”

“I’m safe, then?”

“For now,” she grinned. “For now.”

~*~

Giles awoke the next morning with Joyce curled tightly in his arms and realized that they were alone in the bed. Unsurprisingly, Ethan had left while they slept.

Joyce stirred, opening an eye to look at him. “Hello,” she smiled, voice sultry.

“Morning,” he smiled back, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“Ethan told me not to tell you, but he was far from disappointed by his visit after all,” she said. “I was awake when he left.”

“And you, Joyce?” he questioned.

“A memorable evening. Much better than I could have hoped,” she replied.

“Indeed?”

“Mm, hm. What about you? Feg reg regretful?”

“Hardly. I believe that’s the first amicable encounter I’ve had with Ethan in years. And relatively Chaos free.”

“Oh, I believe there was a fair amount of Chaos last night,” she grinned wickedly.

“You are one amazing woman, Joyce Summers.”

“You were even better the second time around, Ripper.”

He rolled so he was on top of her, “Just better?”

“It might have been due to Ethan,” she said, face unreadable. “So I guess I can’t really say if it was better or not.”

“Are you challenging my ability, Joyce?”

“Depends,” she reached down and teased her hand along his shaft.

“On?” he tried to remain cool, but the woman was making it nigh on impossible.

“Whether you’re up to it or not,” her voice still calm.

“Whether I’m…” he rolled his eyes. “I believe you’ve spent way too much time around Ethan.”

“The effects don’t seem all that bad.”

“With Ethan,” Giles began to trail his hand down and across her stomach, “the effects never seem bad at the time.” Flitting over her clit, he sunk one finger into her followed by a second. She arched off the bed and into him.

“Still seems good,” she murmured.

“Just good?” he asked, removing his fingers and positioning himself for entry.

Giles had barely sheathed himself in her, before Joyce rolled them so she was on top.

“Getting better,” she said, beginning to ride him.

“You didn’t even give me a chance,” he tried to sound hurt.

“Giving up so soon?” she asked lightly, leaning back to adjust the angle.

He took advantage of her movement to rise up and push her back, regaining dominance.

“Mm,” she glowed, “much, much better.”

Then he was kissing her thoroughly, tongue grazing tongue, relishing the unique flavor that was Joyce and Joyce alone. The urgency of his thrusts abated and took on a more languid nature, savoring the act.

Somewhere in the middle of all of this, it began to dawn on Giles that things had changed, that this wasn’t simply fucking anymore. It was the same act, but different somehow. It meant more to him this time.

Seeming to sense this shift, Joyce broke the kiss and looked at him with concern. “What’s going on, Rupert?”

He stilled his movements and looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since the whole thing began. “You’re incredible, Joyce,” he said finally, voice hoarse. “I don’t think I’ve etoldtold you that.”

“Rupert?” she questioned softly.

“Bugger!” he cursed himself. Hell of a time to do this, after . . . after everything. Of course he would have an epiphany in the middle of making love to a woman. Making love? That was it, wasn’t it?

Giles started to pull out and away, but Joyce held him fast.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I, um, well, that is…” Bloody hell. How was he going to get out of this? Short of a full confession which he was absolutely was not prepared for.

“What’s going on?” she reached up to touch his cheek. “Now’s hardly the time to get shy.”

“I hate to admit it, but I wish Ethan were here,” he muttered to himself. Because with Ethan he wouldn’t be thinking. Ethan eliminated the ability to think, and that wasn’t always a bad thing. Seeing her questioning look, he decided to test the waters. “What was this for you, Joyce?”

“Do you mean was this just some fling?” she asked. “I honestly don’t know.”

He must have looked pained, because she went on. “You and I, we share something. I can’t say what exactly, but I know it’s more than just band candy. It’s more than just a good time.” She paused. “I think the sis tis true with you and Ethan.”

“No, with Ethan’s it’s just a good time,” he said, not convincing himself.

“Not for you and not for him, either,” she said firmly. “Sure you can do what we did last night and have it be no more than a great fuck, happens all the time. And I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t the case in college. But now . . . I don’t know. How’s that for an answer?”

“More of one than I had,” he smiled finally, somewhat relieved that he wasn’t exactly alone in his feelings.

“What brought this up?”

“I just started thinking about how incredible you are and wondering why I didn’t realize it sooner.” Which wasn’t a lie.

“Well, at least you realized it.”

“I’ll say it again, you’re an incredible woman, Joyce Summers.”

“You aren’t half bad yourself, Ripper,” she grinned.

“That’s it, time to resolve this quality issue once and for all,” he kissed her firmly and began to move again. He would think about connotations later, but right now there were more enjoyable things to focus on.

Breathless she whispered in his ear, “I do know that I wouldn’t be opposed to it happening again.”

Things were open, that was good. He could live with that for now.

“Joyce!” he gasped. “Do that again!”

She complied, rocking her hips up as he plunged in, allowing him to go deeper, and then down as he pulled back, increasing the pressure. She kept to the pace he set, moving just the right speed to appreciate what they were doing. Joyce caught his gaze and held it even as they both came. Giles could almost hope that maybe there really was more to this for her as well.

~*~

After taking Joyce to her car, Giles returned home to find a note attached to his door.

Ethan’s elegant scrawl greeted him:


Ripper,

Joyce is a delightful woman. You’d be a fool to let her get away. You should thank her next time you see her, because you might have woken up a Fyarl demon this morning were it not for her intervention. The evening was much more enjoyable than intended.

If I could hope to leave as unscathed, I might visit more often. The past isn’t so horrible, is it?

Eternally,

E


A Fyarl demon? Oh dear lord that would have been unpleasant. He would have been lucky if Buffy didn’t kill him. Good thing Ethan was always up for a change in plans.