Reavers ain't men. Or they forgot how to be. Now they're just nothing. They got out to the edge of the galaxy, to that place of nothing, and that's what they became.

Mal ,'Bushwhacked'


Spike's Bitches 25 to Life  

[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.

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Steph L. - Sep 01, 2005 8:00:07 am PDT #9999 of 10001
It's actually been a really hard year, when you stop and do the math. Eliot would cry, too, if it didn't take him seventy minutes of therapy, two cocktails, and a Sondheim medley before he can experience a human emotion through the haze of his PTSD.

Spiders killed the thread.


§ ita § - Sep 01, 2005 8:00:23 am PDT #10000 of 10001
Well not canonically, no, but this is transformative fiction.

I wish I could share my spider ignoration. There was one that lived in my bathroom and kept ending up on my bathrobe, and I'd shake it onto the floor every time I found it. I'm assuming it was always the same one, but it died in a cleaning accident a few days ago.


DXMachina - Sep 01, 2005 8:06:52 am PDT #10001 of 10001
You always do this. We get tipsy, and you take advantage of my love of the scientific method.

Yadda, yadda, this thread is closed. Continue bitching over here:

"Spike's Bitches 26: Damn right I'm impure!" Sep 1, 2005 10:06:29 am PDT


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