just a few more pages and I can finish this and move on to the action/adventure, blood and guts, mayhem everywhere, fun part of the job.

edit: Slumbernut for a damned funny Spielberg movie about World War II.

Whee! Loverly stuff, Connie. I like Ripper's choice of music, and I find it delightfully ironic that the two soulless characters are the ones steering Willow away from dark magic.

steering Willow away from dark magic

for now anyway

Woo. I love it, Connie.

Oh, good. Between sleep deprivation and the grind of work as I wrote between calls, I was afraid my existential ennui was transferring to the paper.

Must kill someone soon, that'll perk up my muse.

Someone fictional, of course, just in case any law enforcement agencies are monitoring the site.

Connie, you are just so. damned. good.

Niiiiiiiice, Connie.

Question: was it Bitchy in which we were talking about Roz Kaveny?

Because she just sent me Something New and I've just finished reading it and it totally rocks and I hope to hell she fnishes it soon....

she was working off starlight citylight reflected from the scattered clouds.

Connie, just peeking in to say that's incredible. This one line confused me.

I love this. V!Giles is a sexy and intriguing creature. You've got Spike's voice down _very_ well and Willow sounds realistic too.

connie, connie, that is lovely... Spike is dead on perfect. ("Thank you, Obi-Wan," Spike muttered.) The whole thing is just wonderful.

I'm especially looking forward to the next few chapters, because I'm spoiled.

And it took me an hour to post this. Stupid broken internet.

Err, finishing up some femslash. Going to repost the first bits, and the new stuff. Hope to finish it tonight, you see. (edited to add edits)

Maybe it all happened because of the beating my noggin took when she walked in the door. Not that she hit me on the head or anything like that, in spite of the amount of head-hitting that goes on in this place. I just hit it on the counter when I heard her footsteps in the lobby. I should explain that I was under the counter at the time, which makes sense if you think about it. I mean, glowing white aura or no, Cordelia's filing system never did improve, and I figured maybe she'd stashed some relevant pieces of paper there along with the emergency nail files and a couple pieces of gum.

I was prodding the edge of something (it turned out to be a receipt for a pair of shoes--charged to the business account) with one of those nail files when I heard the aforementioned footsteps. They were too light to be Charles, and besides, he always announces he's back. I thought maybe it was Cordy, and I didn't really want her to catch me under her desk sneaking through her hidden stuff so I beat a hasty retreat. I kind of misjudged the clearance between the bottom of the desk and the top of my head.

When they talk about seeing stars, it's a bit of an understatement. Everything went a little supernova before it faded to a couple of big hurkin' Pylean suns.

It wasn't Cordelia standing in the lobby. It wasn't anyone I could remember seeing, and I'm pretty good with faces, and besides, there's no way anyone could see her and not have her burned into his or her retinas. She was standing there in a tight tank top and a baggy pair of pants, holding a big old duffel bag and looking around like she'd just gotten back from some hell dimension and couldn't quite believe she'd escaped it. Which is a pretty common look around here, now that I think about it.

"Angel Investigations! We help the helpless, how can I help you?" I chirped. After all, she wasn't anyone I knew, and she was in our lobby. Therefore, it made sense that she was a client.

"Where's Angel?" Her voice was deep, kind of gruff, and not really what a person would call patient, and from the sounds of things, I was wrong about the whole client assumption.

"He's, well, he's... " she cocked an eyebrow and I gave up on obfuscation. "Well, it's kinda funny you should ask. We're not sure."

"What, he went out for milk and didn't come back?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"Shit. Should have known something was up when he missed his semi-annual visit to the big house. Where's Wes?" She was starting to look a little panicky.

"We don't really say that name around here anymore. He's what you might call persona non grata."

"Well, at least that's one awkward social encounter I'll be avoiding. Cordelia?"

"Oh, she's been AWOL for as long as Angel. They pretty much vanished at the same time."

She dropped her bag and stared at me for a minute before responding. "Let me get this straight: Angel's missing, Wesley's fucked up again--big shock there--and Cordelia's gone, too? Who's running the shop?"

"That'd be me. Well, me and Charles. And sometimes Connor, but he's run off somewhere again."

"So who the hell are you?" She seemed more tired than hostile.

"Oh! Sorry, I must have been kind of distracted. I'm Fred. Can I help you?"

"I'm Faith. I was kind of hoping Angel would have a job for me. He's not here, but sounds like you're short staffed at the moment. How 'bout it?"