I should do a story count. And a word count.

I've been Insane Productive Chica lately.

I was about to "ten? That's more than I've got," but then I went and actual counted what I've posted on my site, and there are like twenty, plus remix and slashing-the-slashers, and the epic that's still in beta, that aren't there. 14 in Buffy and Angel, and since the end of Febuary, 15 in MASH. Some of them are very short, but damn-- 15 stories in a month? That's insane!

Tiny smidgen more Andrew.

* * *

"I need to pee."

He wasn't whining, because Evil Geniuses didn't whine. Not even former Evil Geniuses. But his bladder hurt, and the ropes chafed, and his ass was numb, and he hadn't brushed his teeth or bathed or changed his underwear in nearly three days, and everyone was being mean to him. And he'd recently been dragged through a wall backwards by a vampire and felt its cold lips close over his throat and then the sudden, sharp pain of pierced skin and suction before Buffy intervened - which was kind of like getting a hickey, only about a gazillion times more terrifying. Not that he'd ever gotten a hickey. And Warren was dead, and Jonathan was dead, and they were both hanging out somewhere watching all this and laughing, like Obi Wan and Vader with all their enmity forgotten. So there might have been just a little hint of a whimper in his voice. Maybe. But there was totally no call for Xander to look at him like he'd just crawled out from under a rock. Xander wasn't even a superhero. He didn't have any special powers at all. Although he had dated a demon, which was - different. Andrew hadn't ever done that - although he'd seen some pictures in one of Tucker's old demonology books that had made him wonder whether maybe - but that ritual was really difficult, and after the third time he'd tried it there was still no succubus, and the scorch marks and chicken blood on the mattress had been kind of hard to explain to his mom.

"Please?" Definitely a whimper. But it had been a really lousy couple of days.

Oh, Fay.

Not even former Evil Geniuses. But his bladder hurt, and the ropes chafed, and his ass was numb, and he hadn't brushed his teeth or bathed or changed his underwear in nearly three days, and everyone was being mean to him.

This is so unbelievably, perfectly Andrew - one of the few smiles I've managed most of the day.

More please.

And Warren was dead, and Jonathan was dead, and they were both hanging out somewhere watching all this and laughing, like Obi Wan and Vader with all their enmity forgotten.

This actually choked me up a little. Damn allergies.

Good, Fay. Funny too.

after the third time he'd tried it there was still no succubus, and the scorch marks and chicken blood on the mattress had been kind of hard to explain to his mom.

I loved this.

Fay, I think it started beautifully and went to incredible. There were a couple of things in the first part that didn't sound quite right to my inner ear:

The girls kept on showing up, shocky-eyed and jumpy --

kept on and shocky sound odd there, to me.

books and carefully labelled videos and the mint condition figurines, and all the magazines and fanzines and Top Trumps sets and all the things that mattered were gone.

I think he'd be more likely to do a list; star wars three through 6, blade runner, original trek, TNG, etc. (only much better worded) over carefully labeled videos, and I think he'd list the actual names of the zines rather than just calling them fanzines.

they ought to have a proper name

I think he'd say something more like "real" name instead of proper

from there on I think it just sails, perfectly smoothly and very much in his voice.

I'm really enjoying your Andrew.

Liking it a lot, Fay. I don't recognize 'Top Trumps' is that an English-version name for something I should know?

I can't remember if I posted any of this next section of V!Giles, so here's all I've got so far. It's kind of a "show your hand, you wimp, and keep writing" kind of thing.

Past midnight on Revello Drive, all the respectable people were asleep. Not surprisingly, the Summers house was brightiy lit. Really, it was something of a wonder that the neighbors hadn't gotten up a petition for the Slayer and her family to pull up stakes and move elsewhere.

Spike wished for a cigarette as he did another circuit around the house. He was supposed to be in stealth mode, and a glowing cigarette tip would give away his position. Inside the house, Red was setting wards and considering magical options. It kept her mind off her girl lying confused and lost in hospital, at least. Spike wished he had something to distract his mind. Ripper and the Slayer had been gone for almost two hours, and Spike disliked the idea of that pair being together without some sort of buffer between them.

He hopped the neighbor's backyard fence and scouted the area for signs of enemy activity. Nothing moving but himself and a couple of intelligent dogs cowering in their kennels away from the darker predator prowling through their territory. No time for games, though. He headed back to the house.

The argument inside was audible to vampire ears out on the walk. Joyce was taking exception to the idea of leaving. Spike let himself in, smiling a little at the confirmation of his invitation.

"I agree," Joyce was saying in the kitchen. "Taking Dawn away is a good idea. But I would just slow you down."

"Mom," Dawn said a little hysterically, "we're not going to leave you. Not where Glory can find you."

"She's right, Mrs. Summers," Willow added. "It has to be all of us."

"I don't know," Joyce started.

"I do," Spike cut her off as he stepped into the kitchen. "No one gets left behind. I'll carry you out to the car and strap you in myself if I have to."

Joyce glared at him. "You're not being sensible."

"No, we're not." He looked at Willow. "Any word from the Slayer?"

"Not yet. But Xander and Anya will be here soon."

Dawn looked around, counting people. "There won't be room for everybody."

"I'm assuming that's where Slayer and Ripper have gone," Spike said, fishing out his cigarettes. "Finding bigger transport."

Dawn yanked the cigarette package out of his hand. "You can't smoke in here! We've got a recovering woman in here."

"Oh, yeah, right, sorry." He grimaced at the self-satisfied nod Dawn gave him. Every now and then he was hit with these twinges of 'I'm a vampire, dammit, why am I nursemaiding this bunch of meals on feet?'

The knock on the door distracted all of them. Spike glanced at Willow, who nodded, then he headed to the front of the house. Xander and Anya waited on the front porch. Spike opened the door, glanced up and down the street, then gestured them in.

Xander hesitated, glaring. "And why the hell are you on door duty? Where is everybody?"

"Slayer left me here to watch Niblet and her mum," Spike answered with a smirk. "Everybody's in the dining room--except for Slayer and Ripper. They headed off a couple of hours ago."

Anya blinked. "Together?"

Spike shrugged, then looked over at Xander's car, parked on the street. "How reliable is that piece of junk?"

Xander bristled. "It is not a--well, maybe it is. But it gets me to work and back every day. Why?"

"Road trip, whelp, and we've got too many people for Joyce's vehicle."

"I hope I've got a job when I come back," Xander sighed.

"When?" Spike said softly. Xander glared at him but didn't have a good answer.

Anya stared down the street. "What in the world is that?"

An old school bus rolled down Revello Drive with its lights off and coasted to a stop in front of the Summers house. The door creaked open and Buffy hopped out. Giles sat in the driver's seat.

"Good, you're here," Buffy said to Xander and Anya when she reached the porch. "We can leave as soon as everybody's ready."

"Leave for where?" Xander asked.

"And for how long?" Anya added. "How long am I going to have to leave the store closed?"

"I don't know," Buffy said. "As for where--I don't know. Giles says he knows a place."

"Giles," Xander repeated. "And we're trusting Giles now because ...?"

"Because he's what we've got," she snapped. "Have you two got everything you'll need for a couple of days?" Anya gestured at the duffle bags at their feet, and Buffy nodded. "Let's get started packing, then." She turned towards the door but pulled up at finding Spike behind her.

"So how'd your little trip with Ripper go?" Spike asked.

"We got a vehicle, it went. Are Mom and Dawn ready to go?"

"Your mum is saying we should leave her because she'll only slow us down."

"Damn it," Buffy muttered, and she headed into the house.

Spike met Xander's eyes and raised an eyebrow. Xander nodded and followed Buffy into the house. Spike headed towards the bus.

Anya looked back and forth in disbelief. "I'm not carrying these!" she yelled, gesturing at the duffle bags.

Giles climbed down from the bus and leaned against the side. "Are they still running around and arguing with each other?" he asked Spike.

"Pretty much." Spike looked at the bus. "Nice vehicle. Lots of windows. No enclosed spaces to hide from the sun."

"I've got cans of black spray paint, we can cover some of the windows."

"And where are we going? Slayer said you know a place. What kind of place?"

Giles smiled a little. "A safe place. You'll have to trust me."

Spike started to snarl, but noise at the house attracted his attention. Xander was carrying his and Anya's bags to the bus.

"Buffy's packing and ignoring all argument