Wow, this was fun to read. Love the drabbles, kat, ita, deb, and anyone I forgot. Oh, and plei, though I think I said so already. Loved the continuations Connie and Deb.

It really wasn't, uh, work-appropriate, you know? Heh.

No, shrift, it wasn't, which made me very happy when I got home.

Connie, I love the take on Willow you've got going. This, though:

"There are so many of them," Willow whispered.

"I guess she's a big eater," Xander shrugged.

Manoman, would he really be that cruel? Tara's in a bed across the way, having suffered the same thing as the people he just dissed. And he loves Willow, and Willow loves Tara.

And here (thank Jah) is the end of it. How it got to push 7000 words, I don't know.

But I may revisit this, all or most of the characters, in future.

• * *

"I'm not saying I don't believe you." John Steed leaned back in his Chesterfield chair, listening to rain bouncing off the window ledges. The summer heat had broken, and London was luxuriating in streams of stormwater, sluicing off the dusty buildings. "I do, actually. For some reason, those two vampires sound familar. The demon is a bit harder to swallow, mind you. But I find I jib rather hard at the milk float."

"I still wonder who was driving it." This one detail obviously rankled. "I can't see how it could possibly have been Ethan Rayne; he hadn't time to get past us and out to that damned float."

"I can't help wondering whether that girl, whoever she was, simply wandered off like an exotic dancer and went, er, toplessly wandering through Oxford City Centre." Seeing this had raised a smile from Emma, Steed relaxed. "I'm shocked about deVries, though. He's actually set up as some sort of paranormal investigator?"

"Not only that, he has clients. Who would have thought there would be so much other-worldly activity in sleepy old Oxford? I wonder if it has something to do with he presence of someone he called a Slayer?"

She knew, by the the way Steed's face suddenly went impassive, that she'd guessed right. He knew something, that was clear. Equally clear was the fact that he wasn't going to talk about it, not now. There were moments when she could cheerfully have run him down with his own Bentley.

"I wouldn't worry about that, if I happened to be you," he said vaguely. And anyway-"

He was interrupted by the jangle of the phone. He lifted the handset and listened for a moment.

"Mrs Peel," he said tersely, "we're needed."

• * *

Connie, that's marvellous stuff.

Manoman, would he really be that cruel?

Well, he's still a bit snarked at the "dependable" thing and Willow being all trusting of V!Giles. It's a tense night.

Connie, yuppers on the tension; that comes across really well. I just don't see her taking that one without so much as a "I heard that, it was ugly as hell and I'm filing it away but don't think you're getting off scot-free" look.

Love the rest of it.

I just realised, I have a whole mess of Avengers stuff and I think I have some on DVD.....

Yeah, a quick dirty look in response would work. Or the patented "I can't believe you said that!" Willow pout.

I'd go for the dirty look; he was way over the line for a pout. Hell, Willow even bordering on the Darth 'tude would likely have eviscerated the bastard....