Brava, deb!

Supposing it was the First talking to a ghost? Rather than the First talking to the living?

Supposing, for whatever reason, the First didn't realise the person they were talking to was actually dead already?

Funny, I was thinking about a scenario of the First summoning up the spirit of Adam (yeah, Adam) to discuss the concepts of existence and evil. Odd thought, that.

Victor, dude, you have got to write that. It would be amazing, and I suspect you'd do it superbly.

Victor, dude, you have got to write that. It would be amazing, and I suspect you'd do it superbly.

Maybe when I get back from Syracuse. I've had a Bunny for an AtS spec script around, and I may use this to flesh out some of what's in my head for that.

OK, I'll wait. I'll even keep my dirtygirl fingers off it. This Bun's for yooooou...

New V!Giles in my LJ!

[link]

Okay, here's the Spred I wrote for Plei. It doesn't really have a title... going with Coffee or Something at the moment.

Fred worked feverishly. She was so close, so close. She glanced again at the formula on the wall behind her, top left corner, squinting to make it out in the gloom, and nodded. This is it. Yes, ammonite. Who would have suspected ammonite? Really, this was more like a spell than science, though, suppose, if you actually measured, input, output, distinguishing… you'd need quite a few experiments, and it would have to be in controlled conditions. She thought about, and then dismissed the idea that wearing patchouli might be required. Still, scent as carrier, energy, waves…. She rushed over to the wall where the windows used to be and began writing feverishly in the last white space left.

A minion poked his head in and stood waiting for her to recognize him, looking bemusedly at the walls. It had been really frustrating trying to get anything done around here until she'd commandeered her own lab. When she started writing on the walls, Lilah arranged for her windows to be removed and her walls to be covered in white boards. She'd taken out half the bulbs herself. She needed controlled conditions to do her work. At least, if they didn't understand, they'd finally left her alone to do it.

Still, she'd had to give some stern talkings to…to people, to get them to stop knocking. Knocking just, it made her uncomfortable, interrupted her train of thought. It had been very frustrating. It was weeks and weeks before she'd been able to get that last thought down. It was, probably, not the stern talking, more likely it was opening the door with a taser in her hand the last time someone knocked that had made them stop. She hadn't actually thought about it, she was, really, just so frustrated. Weeks of work, and then weeks more just because they wouldn't stop knocking! If they'd just stand there quietly until she had her idea down. She shouldn't have had the taser though. It had made working with them all a little more tense for awhile.

The minion cleared his throat and Fred ignored him. Really, how they ever expected her to get anything done with this kind of interruption, she couldn't imagine. This one more, something about the waves, and energy, and the patchouli. She wondered if Willow ever wore patchouli, or any kind of perfume, though, really, Willow seemed pretty outside the norm. She regretfully dismissed thoughts of Willow participation. One experiment with Willow and the results would just all be skewed and she wasn't sure Wolfram and Hart could even get Willow for her. She sincerely doubted Willow would just volunteer, not for an experiment at Wolfram and Hart. She laughed.

"Ma'am?" The minion spoke hesitantly, but with the air of a man who'd steeled himself to an unpleasant duty.

She continued scribbling, humming along with the rhythm, hurrying. She had to get this down, just a little more, it was really so very important.

"Ma'am. I'm afraid…" He stopped when she whipped around with a look of pure fury on her face.

"What are you doing?" She asked despairingly. He was a guard. Really the numbers, the ideas, she was losing them, every second took away from what she could put, and it would take so much time! They'd let anyone bother her, and she supposed it was okay, because, after all, she was just crazy old Fred, but, she was losing her train of thought. She took a deep breath and got ahold of herself, corralling the wild thoughts.

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean. Though, you've just. If you'd all just stop interrupting."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry." He actually took a step back, which made Fred try very hard not to smile. It was kind of strange how much she actually liked it that they seemed a little afraid of her. Strange and wrong, of course, yes, anyway, she returned her attention to him in time to hear, "so, if you don't mind me looking around." At her quizzical look, "for the intruder." He had an air of one who'd repeated himself to her more than once. "There seems to be an intruder in your area. I've been instructed to look for him or her and escort the person off the premises."

"Oh!" She laughed as the light dawned. "Really, no, there's no need. There's no intruder. I'm just conducting an experiment. Energy, you know, that kind of thing." She went to the poor guard and put her hand on his shoulder, turning him toward the door and urging him out. "I'm fine, really, everything's fine."

The guard stopped, immovable. That was hardly fair, she thought resentfully. He's all bigger than me. Well, they're all bigger than me. "Ma'am, the sensors picked up an unidentified mass in this room. I really need to search."

Well, it didn't matter that he was bigger. She wasn't letting him wander her lab and smudge her walls, and, it didn't matter. She had work to do. She smiled. "I'm sorry, energy can do some very strange things, can't it?" She started walking again, hanging onto his arm, and he began walking with her. "It's so amazing, all these waves, and the way they bounce off of some things, and through other things, and how they can carry, and, you know, it's really fascinating."

"I'm sure, Ma'am." He was at the door, looking a little puzzled, but she didn't care. She wriggled her fingers at him with a bright smile and then shut the door in his face.

A sound behind her made her stiffen and hope she didn't just do something very stupid. He'd said something about an intruder?

"When I open my eyes, this all bloody well better go away or I'll be pissed."

She turned jerkily.

There was a blond man.

A blond man on her worktable. Where the elements had been.

There was a very attractive blond man laying on the table where she'd been working.

A really, really attractive blond man with a nice accent, not Texas, but still, wow, nice. And he was just laying there, on her table, naked.

Oh. There was a naked man on her table. Fred felt all the blood rush to her ears and throb there. Well, it didn't all rush, not really, but some did, and she was blushing, and her chest was probably all blotchy. She closed her eyes and touched her chest resentfully. It did seem to be warmer.

When she opened them he was staring at her. Still naked. Laying there naked, but with his head turned and looking at her. He looked, well, fretful.

"So, who are you, love, and how did I get here?" He sat up and looked around. "This is a new one on me. Am I Frankenstein's monster?"

He didn't bother to cover himself, or, well, it's not like she hadn't seen it before, but, she wondered if Gunn or Wesley had any idea that average might not look so attractive to her anymore, well, if they cared, which they said they didn't, exactly, but sometimes, anyway, it didn't, average that is, look quite as attractive anymore. She realized she was staring.

"Like what you see, then?" She raised her eyes to his, admiring everything on the way up, because, you couldn't help, but, and she was blushing even hotter, could someone die of a blush? That would be an interesting, well, no, because someone would have to die, but… her mind shut down entirely when she looked into his eyes. Oh. Wow.

"You're a littlebit, aren't you?" He winced at his own words. She didn't understand, but that was okay because she hadn't quite figured out what to say so she just stood there, awkwardly, her right hand cupping her left elbow.

"Have I been out of things long?" He waited for a response but none came. "Hey, brown-eyes, are you all here?" He dropped his head a little, joggled it back and forth, trying to regain her attention.

"You're Spike."

"Bingo. Got it in one."

"Oh, wow." Fred shook her head, he'd have so much, and he didn't know, and, "Um, what do you remember last?"

"Last I remember was having tea with me mum."

"Your mother? You don't remember being a…." she hesitated. How to say, well, really, you can only say, "a vampire?

He snorted. "Course I do, silly git. This was after. After Sunnydale and all that First Evil and Turok-Han and whatnot. Did they all get out all right?" He looked around him as if searching for something.

"Oh, you were with your mom after…Wow. What was that like?"

"Got a cigarette?" He smirked. "I seem to have left mine in my other pants." She frowned a little and he cast his eyes up. Really, where did this bird come from?

"Your mother?"

"Oh. Right." He looked away from Fred, still distracted. "I was having tea with my mum, and she was asking me about my poetry, but the only poetry." He caught himself and looked back at Fred. "I, uh, haven't written any poetry lately, not so's you'd. None. No poetry."

Fred nodded. Poetry, perhaps poetry just happened after you died and, but then, no, that didn't seem reasonable. She wrinkled her nose.

"Uh, love?"

"Oh!" Fred jumped. "I'm sorry. I kind of forgot you were here, I mean, I have these ideas, and.." she trailed off with a shrug and grinned. "I kind of get carried away."

"Yeah. I noticed that. I don't suppose you have any clothes around?"