I just finished updating Latitude.

I will conk out in a few.

I noticed that. Good night, and have a good trip!

THERE WILL BE DONUTS!!!

If I have to force my mother to pull over, I am going to have donuts.

And write. I'll be checking here in the morning... any special requests?

DONUTS!!!

Doughnuts - thank you very much.

You stock up on Timbits and coffee and chocolate and have a wonderful time. Write me something smutty, please.

Requests? Well, I suppose requesting donuts would be a little beside the point, but Wes-smut and anything Connorsquicksome are always good.

Doughnuts - thank you very much.

Hey, I gave in to the short spelling months ago (for reasons related to my lingering wrist problems), and I ain't looking back.

So Latitude is all Buffy/Wes, all the time?

Yep.

Latitude is (thank goodness, and it's actually kind of hard, and it means TALKING to people) the guild site for the pairing.

Ah, heck. I should bring the whole site with me, and finish some essays while I'm at it. Hmm. An essay submission page... don't anyone let me forget!

Recalibration is my personal archive. Latitude is for anyone who writes Buffy/Wes. (Cough*Dana*Cough)

I need to put together a Recs page for pairings on my site.

late night ficcing that'll make more sense when I'm awake

Nearly three a.m., and the traffic was fairly light on the freeway north. Giles drove easily and not quite fast enough to attract attention.

Spike bend down the backs of two of the bus' bench seats, making uneven but adequate sleeping surfaces. Joyce made a wry comment about road trips to concerts, but she stretched out gratefully with Dawn at her side. On the other side of the aisle, Willow settled Tara against her. Anya curled up in the corner of her seat and went efficiently to sleep.

Buffy made her way carefully up the aisle, checking on people. She smiled a little at the sight of Dawn curled up under Spike's duster.

A couple of seats back, Xander still hung over the back of Anya's seat, one arm reaching down so he could lightly stroke her hair.

Buffy sat down next to him. "Field trip from hell, huh?"

"I said that when I saw this thing. I thought the deal with graduation was that you never had to ride in one of these again." His smile was tired, though, and the humor reached nowhere near his eyes.

She rubbed his shoulder. "You should get some sleep, you're going to be driving in a few hours. It's kind of neat. Me and Willow and--and the others, we do the mystic thingies, but when it comes to real life stuff, we always yell for you."

"Yeah," he said. "I'm Average Normal Guy, Mr. Everyday."

"And we need him," Buffy said, disturbed by the bitterness she heard. "I mean, do you want me to drive?"

His smile answered. "Not at all."

"Then get some sleep."

"I don't think I can, not with people up and moving around." He nodded towards the back of the bus.

The last few windows on either side had been spray painted black. Spike crouched among the rear seats, rearranging baggage.

Buffy patted Xander's arm. "I'll go tell him to keep it down." She frowned at the look of distrust Xander sent towards Spike. "It's only Spike, he's harmless."

"Yeah, harmless. Look, Buffy . . ."

He went silent. With every appearance of unconcern, Spike settled back on his heels, as if he was only stretching his back. But from under lowered eyelids he was watching Xander. The scarred eyebrow quirked when he saw Xander looking back, and his faint smile dared Xander to tell what he knew. But an eye-flick towards Willow was reminder enough about the unwilling bargain.

"I don't trust him," Xander finally said, still looking back at Spike. "I've got my reasons even beyond him being a vampire. Helpless is a great act for somebody just waiting for you to turn your back."

"He can't do anything with the chip," Buffy said just a little impatiently. "You know that."