Now if I could just find a below-$200 fare to Chicago....

I really, really want to come next year.

Can someone rec me a good gen fic in the Buffyverse? One of the stories I was going to rec for crack_van this month has already been recced, and I'm kind of fumbling for another story. (It was Micole's "Truly and Forever.")

Yahtzee, Hoop Screams?

Green Chick's Ink?

Ink. Absolutely. Thank you.

The golf carts return!

She thought back to the moment when her life had come tumbling down changing its tranquil mundane ways forever. It had not been when the bombs went off and the world ceased to turn on its axis - no – it had been the day King Paul came into her life making his everlasting presence known to her.

Yes. Armageddon is nothing -- the true terrible event is that crazy King Paul.

She quietly spoke, ‘Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal taste Brought Death into the World, and all our woe, With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat… ”

Michael stopped the fusing, placing a caring hand on the buttons of her shirt as the other still dried the stream of tears and said quizzically, “John Milton’s Paradise Lost,” and then furthered quoting the next line of the 1667 Master’s poem, “Sing Heav'nly Muse.”

Nothing like a literature lesson in the middle of your fic.

The moment seemed to last an eternity and it was only broken by the voice of an angry Walter reprimanding one of the Birkoff twins for their driving skills. The tiny engine of a golf cart heard approaching, its profile hidden behind the clouds of steam, but the unruly behavior of the elder Statesman aided to lend comical relief to the moment. At Michael’s discovery of Nikita’s smile he mumbled jokingly – or was it a joking remark?

“They’ll be plenty of time for explanations and apologies.” He said and then added, “Over here Walter, at the end of the bend.”

Before Nikita could answer, before Michael finished assuring himself that Nikita’s clothing covered every inch of her naked form, they heard Walter yell, “Yonder our Prince awaits, onward steed, gallop like the wind.” And laughter filled the area, entertaining reprieve for tense moments ahead.

Oh, thank god for that cooky Walter and his golf carts.

I quote stuff in my fic sometimes...how much is too much?

There's a huge difference between quoting something and dumping it in wholesale. If it doesn't feel like you're in high school English class, I'd say you're fine.

Cause I was gonna say, Kay Howard's version of Macbeth is in there.(She sort of misses the point, though.)

Michael stopped the fusing, placing a caring hand on the buttons of her shirt as the other still dried the stream of tears

...fusing?