"We really are in trouble, people," Wash said, watching the controls owlishly. "They've got hold of us with some sort of grappling hook—we're going to be eaten alive. Oh my God. Oh God. Oh God."
"Shut up," Mal said, and Zoe crawled across to hold her husband's hand. She considered trying to keep him quiet another way, but decided this probably wasn't the moment.
Somewhere, deep in the ship but closer than any of them liked to the bridge, a series of bangs sounded, doors opening and then footsteps echoing in metal corridors.
Jayne took Vera's safety off.
And the start of something for Elena's challenge. Sorry, folks. I'm writing the first evil-- take that as a warning.
- - -
Some time in 2001, military base
"That's enough! Stop right there!" a random guard—tall, heavy, armed with something black and nasty—barks.
The prisoner, desperate for the open air, for freedom and chaos, doesn't stop.
Just once, a shot rings out in the echoing corridors, and the prisoner will be finding out if there is chaos after death.
No names for his next of kin have ever been taken, and so no one is notified. A nameless prisoner who dabbled in dark arts; and a nameless grave in ground unprotected from dark forces. It's easy. Too easy.
November 12th, 2002, Westbury, England
Giles sat alone in big garden room. It was really a living room, but the place had two, and this one's windows looked out at the sunset over the garden, so they called it the garden room. Bored, he looked up from the book he was trying to read, and noted the time on the grandfather clock opposite—one minute past eight.
Funny. He hadn't heard it strike.
The house was mostly empty—on Tuesday evenings, it seemed, everyone had a reason to be out, expect him. He thought Kathryn was probably still around, in her room or the library, but it didn't seem like a good idea to go and look for her. She was more than a little wild—he liked that about her; it reminded him of Ethan—but there was quite a high chance she wanted to be alone.
The book in his hands was heavy, and he started to put it down. The pages ruffled, in a way that pages shouldn't unless there's a stiff breeze—and then there was, a powerful blowing in the still air of the room, cracking at the thick paper and disturbing the dust motes.
"What…" he started, slamming the book shut, trying desperately to remember what this reminded him of… something about demon summoning, the presence of evil… Ethan, again. Why couldn't he stop thinking…
… that Ethan was there, the air still again as it should be, and Ethan, three-dimensional, as wiry and grinning like usual, standing there in front of him on the expensive Persian rug, and saying, "Hey, Ripper. Good to see you again."
Ooh! Nice beginning. I love the opening bit about poor Ethan's untimely demise. It seems rather lacking in the flamboyance that he'd like, but it's still very effective, especially the bit about finding out if there's chaos after death.
Oh, my god! Can not stop laughing. You are like unto a god, Am. That is some funny shit!
The ship lurched back from the Vogons, slide slightly towards them again
Slid?
But, Jebus, the crawling over each other and the computer and Wash and and... So funny!
As for the CWDP, keep it coming, missy.
Oh, look, SA. My keyboard just melted.
Is that payback for Plei's tormenting you with Joyce as the creamy filling in that evil little short of hers? Huh?
I totally loved that. One phrase rang wrong, in tense/parsing:
he can catch sight of Faith
Can catch?
Other than that? I'll be in my bunk.
And when I come out of said bunk and take a long hot shower to wash the sweat off? Off backthreadwards to read Am's.
Is that payback for Plei's tormenting you with Joyce as the creamy filling in that evil little short of hers? Huh?
Payback? Hm. I don't think it's proper payback unless it's something that completely freaks her out as that did me.
And I don't think there's a thing in the world that will do that now, and I love her for it.
(insent, btw, Deb.)
Hee! I can't imagine anything in fic freaking Plei out, either.
Backsent to you, with info.
Aww!
GAH!!
BWAHAHAHAHA!
sigh, Ethan...
(What? I'm catchin' up!)
And I don't think there's a thing in the world that will do that now, and I love her for it.
Umm. I have squicks. I have squicks that make me near to twitch.
Angel/Cordelia (and I have a lot of friends who like it, but it's WRONG, wrong like a wrong thing and perhaps even wrong like Buffy/Giles) and, natch, Buffy/Giles.
Angel/Cordelia makes me want to poke out my eyes with fish hooks. I'm still scarred from the couple times I tried to read it.
Thing is, it went so wrong when they tried it on screen not ONLY because of the chemistry that's... not, but because it was basically a massive retcon of a mutual lack of attraction and the corrupting of the family vibe, and fuck that shit, damn it.
I never cheered louder than when Connor got some with Daddy watching. I wanted to kiss DeKnight (and I think that one *was* DeKnight, yes?) or send him fruit or just thank him.
