That particular threesome - rain reign rein - were ones we were expected to memorise properly at school. I remember a feisty, sexy little primary school teacher called Miss LeAnza ("call me Rita! I'll tell everyone tales of smoking cigarettes at the movies!") singing a bit of "My Fair Lady" and then choosing a child at random and demanding "Right! WHICH rain in Spain falls mainly on the plane? Spell it!"

And the child had best spell it right.

(yes, my tenses are wandering. I desperately want to sleep but I'm waiting for Nic, and I still need to clean up after Buffydinner....)

I know hardly anyone even thinks of horses as anything more than decorative and fun to bet on in races these days, but having so many people not knowing why one "reins in" something, not "reign in", is depressing.

I will cop to having made that typo (though caught before beta) when writing.

And, well, history geek and major horse geek here. Just sayin'.

Finger/brain disconnects happen.

Yeah, I'd meant the e. Interestingly, also, I noticed you once called a woman a "brunet"-- and the feminine form of that is much more used in English, I think.

("Brunet" *is* masculine, right? I'm not confused?)

"brunet"

Did I? If I did, it would have been either a spelling automatic fix, or because someone called me on it; I have to admit, it's one of those spellings that looks wrong to me, no matter what. Rationally, I know that "ette" is feminine/diminutive, but still. Brunet just looks odd; it's like the word "biped" - my tiny little mind wanted to read that as a verb, not a noun, the past tense of the verb "to bip".

my tiny little mind wanted to read that as a verb, not a noun, the past tense of the verb "to bip".

Oh, that makes me laugh. Reminds me of Normal from Dark Angel. "Bip, bip, bip!"

Brunet just looks odd;

I love this word. It is simply not used enough.

Gorgeous. Damn, Deb, you are totally selling me on the joys of buttery low-fat Spred.

ion, Miss LeAnza is my new hero.

signed, wanders around her class warbling 'On the Street Where You Live' whilst teaching ICT.

Fay, Rita the Righteous drove a pink Mustang, 1965. She was about four foot ten and we all worshipped her. Big hair, cheekbones, and attitude for miles.

She sounds like a babe. I don't doubt that I'dve followed her around and/or said "Miss Rita says..." every chance I got.

erika, I was nine, had only just moved to the US for the first go-round, and I thought she was fucking Aphrodite on wheels. She was even cooler with the girls than with the boys.

Hey, actual plot development, not just moving people around

Anya proved an efficient navigator. The first side road off the highway passed a few farms and ranches. Dawn kept her nose plastered to the window, watching for horses; Willow distracted Tara by pointing out new lambs.

Buffy settled into Xander's old seat, careful not to trip over the duffle bag underneath. She leaned against the window and stared out at the scenery. A tractor pulled some piece of arcane farm machinery through a field as the driver waved at the passing bus. Vampires liked cities, Buffy mused. It must be nice to live where the night was full of cricket noises and frogs instead of screams and death.

She was thinking of the fireflies at her aunt's house as she drifted to sleep.

The jerk of the bus coming to a stop woke her. There were trees outside the window, and the sun was much higher. "What's wrong?"

Joyce grinned back over her shoulder. "Good morning, sleepy head. Bathroom break."

"Oh. Yeah. Good idea." Her bladder was awake and agreeing with the plan. She looked outside again. They were on a dirt road now, surrounded by forest instead of farms. "So. Bushes. Who remembers what poison ivy looks like?"

Dawn raised her hand. "I do! Campfire Girls!" She went still. "Or, you know, I ..."

"I don't care how you know," Anya said. "So long as you know."

Xander pulled open the door. "So, ladies to the right, gentlemen to the left?" He and Anya left the bus.

Buffy started to follow, then went to the back. "Guys?"

Spike poked his head out from under the seat--on the opposite side from where Buffy remembered him bunking out at dawn. He raised his scarred eyebrow at her when she looked perplexed from one side of the bus to the other. "What?"

She gestured vaguely over her shoulder. "The rest of us--nature calls. Stretching our legs and--stuff. We won't be gone long."

Spike gave a smile that was more than a little pleased. "Thanks for telling us. We can go through everybody's bags now without being caught."

Buffy craned her neck, trying to locate Giles, checking under the seats on the other side of the aisle in case he and Spike had switched places.

"He's asleep," Spike said, almost moving to get in her way.

"What, and he has nightmares if he's all alone?"

He shrugged. "Didn't want him getting knocked around and out into the light, the way Harris does his kamikaze routine on these roads."

"Right." She studied him for a few moments, then straightened. "Be back in a bit."

"Right." Spike disappeared under the seats again.

In every lecture she'd ever heard, protectiveness was not high on the list of vampiric qualities. Just as well, or there'd be solicitous sires waiting over every fledgling's grave, making her job all the harder. So was it just a Spikey thing, that he stayed close to Giles, looking after him? Maybe it was part of what kept Spike with Dru all those years, maybe he just liked having someone to look after. Whatever it was, she was an idiot for ever allowing herself to think "that's kind of sweet" on the subject.

Business in the bushes was conducted quickly. Several napkins and tissues from Joyce's purse prevented the need for leaves and the identification of possible poison ivy.

"Boy," Willow said, "I hope we have a mom with us every time we're on the run." Tara tugged on her arm, pointing to several flowers on a nearby bush. "Yeah, those are pretty. Buffy, can we walk around a little? She might be a little less restless if we do."

"Probably not a bad idea. I'll go find Xander."