Deena! May I ask you for a solid? May I please request an icon of the Shrub looking blank with the caption "Crime makes you stupid."? Ranking on the Man and Pembleton quotes. Best.Stuff. Ever.

No problem, Erika!

Cool! That's so great!

Insent, and thanks for asking. I hope you like it.

I love them. So awesome. But Frank is a bit wide...lj doesn't want to take it. Bastards!

I'll fix it and send it back.

Great... thanks again.

Faith and Claire aren't done sitting around talking...thought there'd be plot or overt porn, but not yet.

But the surprises didn’t end there. Claire’s mom asked Faith to stay to dinner, because the world could just...like, fucking end, and there would be Mom with mashed potatoes, you know? Not like Faith, who’s had a real life, and like, a destiny(even though it didn’t work like it was supposed to, but Claire isn’t sure she even understands that story. Listening to it felt like being high. The world is in the tiny manicured hands of an ex-cheerleader named Buffy?Nuh uh. And she thought catechism didn’t make sense.)

”What’s it like?”Claire asked, after making sure her bedroom door was closed. All the way.

“Killing monsters makes me hungry and horny.”

“Uh, not that. The other part. I wish I had a destiny.”

“I don’t think about all that much, C. Not really. Life’s too hard to get all deep about it. I might as well ask why I have tits. I don’t know but I can still have fun with ‘em right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Claire bluffed, hoping Faith thought she understood.

“You’re all pink. What, don’t you say “tits” either?”

“They’re not much to talk about...”

“More than a mouthful is wasted, right?”

”Dinner!” Claire couldn’t decide if she was relieved or upset, even after Faith said “At least I won’t be hungry.”

Beginning of something new here. It doesn't have a title yet. Enjoy!

ETA: It has a name now!

Yesterday's Guitars

Part One:

There were screeching guitars streaming into her wireless earpiece, and a vampire on the other end of her short sword. “All in all,” thought Dawn, “there are worse ways to be spending New Year’s Eve.”

Of course, she could think of one, but Xander was still off doing research in Los Angeles, and she was stuck in London, trading blows with walking dead still wearing 2018’s fashion.

The vampire leapt at her, but instead of tackling her like he planned, he found himself flat on his face to her side. In one fluid motion, Dawn spun and brought the sword down, severing the vampire’s neck. It exploded in a cloud of dust.

“Little bad’s ashes,” said Dawn, to no one visible. “It’s 2023 in fifteen minutes, and I have no one to kiss.”

“Wish I could be there with you,” said Xander, whispering into her ear over the com system. “Duty first.”

“Duty sucks,” said Dawn, watching the lights of London glisten in the distance. “We could have phone sex.”

Xander chuckled.

“With Wesley monitoring this line at any moment?” said Xander. “No thanks.”

“Ah, c’mon,” said Dawn, smiling now. “It would make it exciting.”

“I’ll see you in Los Angeles in a couple of days,” said Xander, still audibly chuckling.

“Love you,” said Dawn, chuckling now too, “spoil sport.”

She clicked the direct line off, and her music resumed. It sounded like metal scraping on metal. It suited her mood. She loved London, but no one was here right now but Giles, and frankly, she wasn’t in the mood to hang with him. There was a murderer loose out there, a centuries-old psychopathic killer, and she had to stop him.

“Geez,” said Dawn. “I sound like an old TV character.”

Not for the first time, she wondered if this was what it was like for Buffy, alone on rooftops and dark alleys, spouting B-grade movie dialog to keep her teeth from chattering.”

“Buffy would probably insist it was nothing but A-grade dialog,” thought Dawn.

She came to the decrepit, gray building and tried the door. It opened easily, with a squeak. Cautiously, she entered, her sword drawn and ready. A thick layer of dust covered everything, but she could see where it had been disturbed. Someone had dragged something big through here.

Dawn knew full-well she made no noise when she didn’t want to. She knew nothing normal could know she was here. Still, she stopped a few feet from a closed door ahead of her. She stood quietly, staring at the door as though she were transfixed, her sword at rest beside her.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and a feral form draped in bandages and rags leapt at where she’d be if she’s opened it by hand. Disoriented, the figure squealed and gnashed its teeth. Dawn was moving forward now, her sword raised and ready to slice as she approached. The figure was humanoid, she realized. And it wasn’t a demon. It was…

Her sword collided with the killer’s body before she finished the thought. Steel hit the killer’s bandaged frame and there was an explosion of dust. It wasn’t her man, it was a vampire.

Dawn looked into the room beyond. A teenage girl was gagged and whimpering in the corner. Mystic runes adorned the walls, and there was a permeating smell of stale blood.

“Wesley,” she said, clicking onto the emergency line. “Pavayne’s bolted. We’ve lost him. Repeat, we have lost Pavayne.”

“Understood,” said Wesley’s voice across the digital connection. “Is the victim unharmed?”

“The current one, yeah,” said Dawn, who had sheathed her sword and was cutting the girl loose with a knife. “There were a lot of others. Soon as you get a team here, I’m going to continue pursuit.”

“Yes,” said Wesley. “I think that’s imperative.”

There was silence for a moment, save the ungagged girl gasping and crying onto Dawn’s shoulder.

“And Dawn,” said Wesley, his voice low.

“Yes, Wesley?”

“Happy New Year.”