Dont own BTVS or the mini-crosses...
To say it was a bad day for Rayne was to understate the matter.
It had, up till now been a good week.
Normally he was monitored 24/7 to ensure he didnt use any magic but he had managed to magic his way of of his cell whilst his guards were distracted by the sounds of a riot in the area marked only Restricted: Area 52 Prisoners and Personal Only Gleefully, he had noted that his escape was during Shift Change, making it all the easier to jump into the boot of a Car about to leave the premises and aided by a simple 'Somebody Elses Problem' spell, get successfully past the guards and overblown inspections required to exit the base.
They weren't set up with the mystical in mind after all.
Leaving the company of the unknown pencil-pusher whose car he had borrowed, a Dr Rodney McKay according to the name on his letterbox, he had not only managed to find transport but transport that came will willing female company.
Okay, so she was undead but after 5 years in prison, Rayne was happy even for that company.
They had raised terror and chaos in their journey across America, heading towards the Cleveland Hellmouth with the sole intention of taking over the town.
That, Rayne had to admit, was probably his first mistake.
His Companion, the lovely, if pyscotic Drucilla was dust on the wind, the victim of, of all the things to be killed by, a falling mirror which had, in a move Rayne would only have believed if he had seen in a cartoon, caught the sun and redirected the full blast onto Dru's neck.
Cursing and screaming, he had attempted to go outside only to have to duck back inside as he spotted Riley Finn moving into the room on his left.
Rayne should have spotted it when the room on his right filled, should have known the universe had it in for him and laid low for a while but in his arrogance he had stayed.
Despite a pensive looking Mckay moving into Room 12 on his right joined by a team calling themselves SG-1 who just happened to have photfit pictures of him and, if his danger sense, augmented as it was by various spells, was anything to go by, a Presidential Mandate to bring him in for questioning. Something about a foothold, whatever that was.
He should certainly have taken notice when that bloody boy scout moved in downstairs, mainly because Ethan knew damn well he had killed that bloody Scot fifteen years ago to get some quick cash.
Ethan gave himself a small pat on the back for noteing the surrealness of it all when he saw the Charmed Ones show up with trunks through his tightly closed windows.
He had made the sensible decison then, and decided to skip town.
Naturally it hadnt worked, or he wouldnt be in this mess now.
For a start, the car which had worked reliably and unfalteringly for months, died.
As in, burst into flames.
Something which generally only occured in the movies.
It had caused unwanted attention from the very people he was trying to escape from but he had worn a disquise and knowing the Charmed Ones would have sensed a Glamour, made it a non-mystical disquise.
He was truly shocked that, surrounded totally by several groups of people, all of whom he either knew were after him or had a pretty good idea they were after him, that he had managed not to be spotted.
He could have sworn his heart was beating loud enough to be heard all the way over in merry old England, but apparently not.
When he spotted Willow in town whilst... ahem, 'shopping' for a new car, he had decided to forgo skipping the town and go straight to skipping the country.
A truly sensible decison indeed, there had been far too many coincidences for his liking, far too many people just happened to show up in town who were either known enemies of his or searching for him.
Naturally, his new transport had died right out in the sticks with only the one house in sight, a massive faux-English Manor.
Maybe he could get some help there, he needed to get the car sorted and fast.
This town wasnt a healthy place to be.
glanced up as movement registered on his eye, his hands stilling in the
dishwater as he gazed disbelieving out the window.
"Giles" he finally managed to gasp out, "Is that Ethan Rayne coming up the drive"
He watched, slightly nervous as Giles carefully placed the Dish he was drying back on the draining board, dropped the towel on the rack and gazed blandly at the unmistakeable figure approaching the rear of the Scoobies new home.
With a slight tut, he turned, rummaging through the open toolbox Xander had left on the dining room table and selected a large mallot.
"I'm just popping out for a while, I may be some time"
With that, he strode out of the kitchen.
Ethan's day was about to get a lot worse.