Hushed

Spoilers: None
Rating: NC-17
Completed: April 9, 2004
Spoilers: “Hush” through “New Man”
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Property of Joss and ME. Just playing.
Summary: How Hush might have gone in the Ménageaverse.
A/N: For the sake of the Ménageaverse, Hush falls three weeks after New Man and takes place the morning after Artistic License. So the Initiative and Riley’s connection to it is already known and Spike has his crypt. Also no Olivia, nothing personal, but it just wouldn’t work. And lest I forget, thank you to Savvy for the beta and holding my hand through the rough parts


Joyce stood in Rupert’s shower enjoying the warm spray that washed over her, loosening her tired muscles. Not that she minded. It was the pleasant achiness that followed a night of sexual abandon. Ethan’s return to town had more that made up for the slow day she’d spent at the gallery, and Rupert’s stopping by only improved things that much more. But what woman didn’t enjoy two men vying for her attention?

Strong arms slipped around her waist and pulled her close. Joyce craned her neck back to smile at Rupert. Their mouths met in a languid kiss, easy and tender. She twisted ie eme embrace until she faced him, not breaking the contact between their mouths. Dropping her loofa, Joyce moved her right hand between them and began to slide it along his shaft.

Rupert ended the kiss and gazed at her, black crowding out the blue of his eyes as his arousal grew. He removed her hand from his cock and placed it around his neck. Joyce placed her left around his neck as well. Slowly he pressed her against the wall, spreading her legs as he did so, and still managing to keep them both within reach of the spray. He bent his knees slightly and slid smoothly into her. Using her grip around Rupert’s neck and with some help from him as well, Joyce was able to lift her legs up and wrap around his hips. As he straightened up, she was angled just so to let him slide a little deeper.

Joyce’s left hand reached out to grip the soap ledge, bracing herself as Rupert started to move, tentative at first until he became accustomed to the slick terrain of the shower. The water helped eliminate any friction and the pace began to increase. Joyce was near climax when the shower suddenly turned freezing cold, but instead of chilling their passion, the sudden shock sent them both crashing over.

As she came down, Joyce began to shiver violently, but this was soon remedied by Rupert deftly reaching out and turning up the hot water. Soon they were bathed in blessedly warm water. Not certain how long the warm water would hold out, they quickly pulled apart and began to wash up. They had just enough time to rinse off before the water started to chill.

Quickly dressing, Rupert gave her a quick kiss before heading downstairs to make her breakfast.

After doing her hair, Joyce dressed, thankful that she had the foresight to pack an overnight bag. This way she didn’t have to rush home before work and could enjoy some extra time with Rupert. It would have been nice if Ethan hadn’t slipped out in the early hours, but he didn’t seem to be one to stay any place for too long. Maybe one of these days she could get him to stay the entire night.

She packed her bag and headed downstairs, following the smell of cooking.

“Smells wonderful,” Joyce said as she joined Rupert, or meant to say, but no words came out. She hadn’t screamed that much last night. Again, “Smells won—” but not even a rasp.

Rupert turned to her themilimiling, “Oh, Joyce, I didn’t hear—” He stopped, considering. Then tried again, but nothing came out.

Hoarse might be expected, but no voice at all? Not even a whisper?

“What’s going on?” she mouthed.

He shrugged, but then something seemed to dawn on him and he frowned. Quite clearly it was one word: “Ethan.”

Joyce let out an exasperated sigh. Otep tep forward…

“He would do something like this,” he seemed say, slamming the countertop.

“Why?”

Rupert looked incredulous. He mouthed the words slowly so she could catch them, “Why? Because he’s Ethan!”

She turned her back on and walked out of the kitchen. It was worse than dealing with children. Was he going to blame Ethan every time something went wrong when he was in town? Given their history it was understandable, to a point.

Her eyes fell on a notebook by the phone. A bunch of doodles and some words. Can’t even shout, can’t even cry. Must have 7. Gentlemen. Slayer dream?? Buffy. Right. Sometimes her dreams weren’t just dreams.

She turned when Rupert touched her arm. He said something she gathered was an apology.

Joyce picked up the notebook and shook it in front of him. “What about this?”

“What about it?” he mouthed.

She followed the words with her finger. “Can’t even shout, can’t even cry?”

Rupert took the notebook from her, looking it over closely. “Oh,” finally understanding. He gave her a sheepish smile.

Joyce nodded, fighting a grin of her own.

Suddenly, he looked horrified and started pushing her toward the door.

Before she could ask what he meant, the door to Rupert’s apartment opened and in walked Xander and his girlfriend. Amy? Annie? Anya. And they were carrying two large boxes of . . .donuts? Ah. She caught Rupert’s eye. “Research?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

Xander pulled up short. “Mrs. Summers?” He looked to Rupert.

Thinking quickly, Joyce picked up a mug from the desk. “Coffee.”

The boy nodded, understanding, and made his way into the living room.

Anya studied them before following Xander.

Joyce and Rupert shared a moment of relief. This was going to be interesting. Hopefully, everyone would be too occupied with the no voice thing to wonder what she was doing at Rupert’s having coffee this early in the morning when they had never sought each other out before. Aside from the band candy incident, that is.

~*~

Ethan had left Rupert’s shortly after sunrise, carefully extricating himself from the tangle of bodies so as not to wake his companions. Sadly, Joyce did not see him off as she had on his previous visit, but that couldn’t be helped. It was best to leave before Rupert awoke. The man was far less amenable and tolerating of Ethan’s presence in the harsh light of day. Ethan shifted his arm, soreness evidence that his friend wasn’t all that tolerant in the darkness, either. Not to be unexpected, all things considered.

The morning work crews, or lack there of, had been his first indication that something was wrong in Sunnydale. It wasn’t until he stopped by the local coffee place that he learned exactly what was wrong. The place was curiously deserted for a weekday during what should have been the workday rush. When Ethan tried to place his order with the somewhat dazed clerk he found that no sound came out when he spoke. Odd, but he was intrigued. After an extremely trying game of charades, he’d managed to order a double espresso and set out to investigate the phenomenon further.

Soon he began to notice the dazed, lost look of the coffee clerk on most of the morning denizens he passed. The individuals became small groups, seeking solace in a shared malady, even more clueless together than alone.

Around eleven o’clock he passed a preacher setting up shop to tend to his flock in what his sign proclaimed was the end time. Please, if you would, turn to the appropriate page and you could read about how this was indeed THE END as it had been foreseen ages ago. Ethan laughed to himself. Little did the sheep know that the apocalypse was an almost weekly occurrence in their fair town.

Oh, now there was an enterprising fellow standing by the main thoroughfare, selling dry-erase boards for ten dollars. Double the normal price. Brilliant man capitalizing on a crisis. Ethan admired that.

Caught up as he was in his musings, Ethan wasn’t paying much attention to where he was going and slammed into someone heading in the opposite direction. He started to make apologies to the young blond and her redheaded companion when he realized that he knew the girl quite well. The Slayer. He really needed to work on leaving when he had the chance. Well, at least he wasn’t the cause of the mayhem this time around. Not that it seemed to matter much to the girl before him, who looked like she was quite ready to kill him. If only she knew what he had done with her mother and Watcher the previous evening, well then, she might have ca

Ethan made the attempt to explain himself, but he found himself quickly sprawled on the ground after a stellar left-hook to his face. One of these days he would like to leave town without getting the shit kicked out of him. Ok, so he’d managed that on his last t but but a repeat performance wouldn’t be taken for granted.

Ow! Of course she’d choose to twist his sore arm as she pulled him to his feet. The Slayer and her companion began to march him along the street, back to Rupert’s, no doubt. That should prove entertaining. He wondered if Joyce was still there. Maybe this wasn’t so unfortunate after all.

He spared a glance to the Slayer’s friend as they walked; she glared in return. With the glare he felt a surge owerower, but the girl didn’t seem to notice. Well now . . . he did a bit of poking about . . . he needed to keep his eye on that one. Not yet, but someday soon she might be a force to reckon with.

They halted outside Rupert’s door, and the Slayer knocked with her free hand. The door opened and Rupert stared at him, face gone quite pale. Ethan just caught a glimpse of Joyce before he was pushed, stumbling, through the door. Looks like things might be more amusing than he’d thought.

Ethanded ded unceremoniously on the couch where the Slayer tossed him, warning him in unmistakable body language that if he moved, it was on pain of death. Joyce was standing not five feet away; huld uld handle staying put.

~*~

Giles inwardly cringed when he saw Ethan on the doorstep with Buffy and Willow. The last thing he needed to deal with during the crisis was Ethan trying to make him squirm.

After tossing Ethan onto the couch, Buffy wrote quickly on her marker board: I think I solved our problem.

He motioned for the board, then wrote grudgingly, It’s not Ethan.

Willow snapped for attention. But he’s Chaos guy. Isn’t this chaosy?

Ethan looked pained at that and seemed to be muttering something to the effect of “Oh, certainly, let’s blame Ethan. Things always go wrong when he’s in town.”

Coincidence, Giles wrote.

Willow was excited. But this is Sunnydale, there’s no such thing.

Buffy brightened as she grabbed the board back. Oh! My dream. This might have something to do with it?

He acknowledged that she was right.

Willow’s sign came up again. He still might know something.

They all looked to Ethan who at present seemed to be trying to convince an angry Joyce of something. The two realized they were being observed and stopped. Giles was impressed that she managed to remain fairly composed at possibly being found out.

Buffy turned to Giles, What’s Mom doing here?

He took the board from her, a bit too quickly perhaps, and wrote: She stopped by for coffee.

Buffy scrunched her eyes skeptically, darting from him to her mother and back. Finally, If you say so.

She would choose now to be observant.

Xander had taken over Willow’s board, Can we get back to solving this no voice thing?

Giles couldn’t help but be impressed by the boy. There was hope for Xander yet.

Using Buffy’s board, Giles explained Buffy’s dream and his preliminary thoughts on its meaning to the group assembled. When he was finished, he assigned each of them to a certain aspect and sent them off to research.

Xander and Anya weren’t much help, being too absorbed in one another to pay attention to much else. He was pleased to see Joyce working through a number of volumes with Willow; she had seemed quite happy to have the chance to help out. And Giles was attempting to go over Buffy’s dream with her, but kept getting distracted by Ethan, who was trying his damnedest to annoy Giles by inching ever closer to Joyce. The only way the day could get any worse would be if Spike were to suddenly show up.

He had barely finished the thought when the vampire in question came bursting through his front door, smoldering blanket in tow. Closing the door and dropping his blanket, Spike made his way into the room like it was nothing out of the ordinary. While everyone else turned back to their tasks, Giles put his head in his hands and gave a silent groan.

He felt Buffy nudge his shoulder and looked down at the notebook.

Are you OK? You seem distracted. It read.

I’m fine, he wrote back, forcing a smile.

Grinning, I can beat Ethan up if you like.

Giles looked over to see that Ethan had now joined Joyce and Willow. Joyce seemed to be concentrating very hard while Ethan leaned close. Buffy, he noted when he turned back, seemed as oblivious as ever. He had never been more thankful.

Maybe, he replied and got up to go to the kitchen.

Spike, unsurprisingly, had made himself at home, mixing some Wheatabix in with one of the remaining packets of blood from his brief stay in Giles’ tub. He was now reclining against the counter, staring out into the living room and sipping his meal. Seeing Giles, he pulled out a notepad and pencil.

Who’s the bloke hovering over Joyce?

Trust Spike to be the observant one.

Giles wrote, Ethan Rayne, an old acquaintance of mine. And they’re researching.

Spike rolled his eyes. Any leads?

Giles shook his head. Know anything?

Money?

Giles glared. If the information is useful.

New demons in town, not big on the noise. After something. Spike stopped writing. That’s all I know.

Spike stowed the notebook back in his duster and started to walk away. He paused, studied Giles for a moment, then left.

Giles reviewed his exchange with Spike. He didn’t think he’d given anything away when Spike commented on Ethan and the shower should have washed away any scents the vampire could have picked up. Probably just Spike being Spike. This whole thing was starting to make Giles paranoid.

Well, at least Spike had confirmed Buffy’s dream. Maybe she could find out mon pan patrol tonight. Giles rejoined the others to continue researching.

About an hour before sunset, the group started to disperse. It had been agreed early on that Ethan would be staying there so Giles could keep an eye on him, not that Giles could get rid of Ethan if he’d wanted to. Xander, Anya, and Willow had left together, Spike was in the process of leaving by raiding Giles’ kitchen, and Buffy was going to see Joyce home but pulled Giles aside as they were preparing to leave.

She seemed a bit hesitant as she wrote. Would you mind if I had Mom stay here for the night? I’d feel better knowing she wasn’t alone until we figure this thing out.

Giles choked. Dear lord, the girl really didn’t have a clue, did she?

When he didn’t respond. Please, it would mean a lot to me.

Like he was going to say no. This was almost too easy. He wrote, You might want to make sure it’s alright with her first.

She smiled and went over to her mother. Jolooklooked at him in disbelief. With Buffy’s back turned, he flashed Joyce a wicked grin. She appeared to try very hard not to return it.

Buffy came back, All set. She glanced at Ethan sitting on the couch, watching them with interest as he doodled on a legal pad. All of the band candy was destroyed, right?

Giles managed to cover his laugh up with a cough. Yes, it is. And I’ll make certain Ethan behaves himself.

Convinced, Buffy gave him a quick hug and headed out the door, followed by Spike who threw a curious look over his shoulder. Giles promptly locked the door behind them. He swiveled around to face his guests. Was it wrong that he wanted to thank the demons that had done this?