I've had that nightmare.

Dude, I'm in the middle of that nightmare even as we speak.

A funny nightmare would be Giles muttering about how he's drowning in footwear.

Elena, I'm thinking of a sequel to this, a TAR take, very high comedy: cue the theme from "Mission: Impossible". Two teams, in search of the ultimate prize: Genuine Relaxation. Contestants: Wesley and Giles. Shopping team members/buddies: Fred and Olivia.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it: hit the Beverly Center, and shop til you don't drop. The last Watcher Standing, with five grand worth of purchases that he must produce receipts for and explain why he bought, wins the event.

Kind of an updated ficcish Yojimbo, with Platinum cards and designer shoes.

And then Oz shows up and it'll be like Rat Race.

Sounds like a hoot.

Started it.....

I'll believe it when I see it.

.. ..

...

Waiting.

Posting first chunk in about two minutes.

Hmph....

t checks timestamp

part one of many, I'm afeared:

LAST WATCHER STANDING

Neither of the two remaining Watchers on the North American mainland were ever really able to say how the idea had first come about, or from whose insane excuse for a mind. One day, they were working side by side, companionably enough albeit both rather tired and run-down, with Olivia and Fred hovering over them with cups of Constant Comment and suggestions to take a few hours off; the next, it seemed, and they were fighting for their lives and their sanity, not to mention their dignity.

"No. I won't do it."

"Oh, come on, Wes." Angel, leaning against the back of one of Wolfram and Hart's posh leather Chesterfield sofas, grinned at him. "Getting out for a few hours will do you a world of good." He grinned some more; Wesley, glaring, thought the grin resembled some evil demonic hellspawnish clown-painted mouth of doom, sent to destroy him.

"We're busy." Giles took off his glasses, and polished them on his sleeve. He was, Wes thought bitterly, too obviously stalling for time. "We've got to track down the origins of that spell Willow asked about; otherwise, we could find ourselves with a major infestation of unstoppable proportions."

"So? What's the big? We do that twice a month." Gunn, Wes seethed silently, you traitorous sod, don't you dare.... "Like the man says, Wes, do you and Rupert a mess of healthy to get your asses out there. Loosen the stiff upper lips a little bit."

Disloyal bastard, Wes thought, and shot a sideways glance at Giles. Rupert's face was a tight mask of irritation. He's as furious as I am, Wes thought, and wondered why that realisation should be so heartening.

"Wesley?"

He looked up, and met Olivia's eye. "Yes?"

"We're doing this." Her voice was flat, calm, and utterly inflexible. "We're not going to argue about it. We're not going to strut our watcherly pride like a pair of offended roosters. We're doing this."

"Suppose we refuse?" It was a last ditch attempt at wriggling, and Wesley knew it was pointless. He knew the answer; so did Angel, grinning in a way that made Wes long to hit him, very very hard, just above one ear. So did Lorne, whistling and looking innocent over by the magically treated windows; so did Giles, who sighed windily, a soft angry noise of capitulation.

"Then neither of you get anything resembling sex, at all, for six months."

"You can hardly-"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, of course they can!" Rupert exploded at last. "Don't be so bloody dim, Wes. If anyone ought to know what this place has in odd cabinets literally from here to hell, it's you." He turned around and looked at Olivia. "So, what is it? A spell to render us gruesomely hideous to all carbon based life forms, if we don't play along? A talisman to make us smell like Komodo dragon food? What?"

Fred smiled sweetly. She and Olivia exchanged a look.

"Someone phone down to the auto pool, and tell them to get a car ready." Fred's sweet smile had become an evil grin. Wes was suddenly reminded that this slip of a girl was from Tornado Alley. "YeeeeHAW, gentlemen, we're going to shop until one of y'all drops. Beverly Center, next stop. Saddle up!"

• * *

He's as furious as I am, Wes thought, and wondered by the thought should be so heartening.

wondered at the thought?

Holding my breath waiting for the rest.