That? Must See TV, right there. Oh, the universe of foot pain I missed by not being born AB. Of course when I was a girl, they paid a therapist( the rapist) to simulate the same thing without the ego payoff, so there you go.

Oh, the universe of foot pain I missed by not being born AB. Of course when I was a girl, they paid a therapist( the rapist) to simulate the same thing without the ego payoff, so there you go.

And again, I ask: why in sweet fucking hell aren't you being paid to write, girlygirl?

It's not me, it's them. about 50 times. and I write for free, sometimes. maybe they think I'm cheap.

maybe they think I'm cheap.

Demand their firstborns.

for disability press?I'd get one haunted woman and a copier, man.

BWAH!

Lordy, I second the why? That's just amazing Erika.

Erika, I lack the words and the skill to tell you in how many ways you rock my world.

Oh, me too. Catching up here has been fine. I'm grinning with so much good stuff--and not all of it fic.

When You Are Tired of London

Part Seven: Faith’s Day

James wasn’t sure what was happening, but he knew it wasn’t good. All of the girls he’d met the night before were convinced he was Rupert, and none of them remembered his arrival. Dawn knew that Buffy and the others had gone to London on some sort of case, but she couldn’t recall what exactly. Every time he tried to explain who he was, the memory seemed to slip away.

Rupert would know what to do. Best, then, to think like Rupert. Of course, Rupert wouldn’t need to ask directions to his own office.

“Excuse me, Mr. Giles?” said one such girl. “I’ve been reviewing ‘Formgander’s Compendium,’ like you suggested, and I’m afraid I can’t find any of the information on Medeival German Necromancy for the test.”

“Uhm, yes,” said James, tired of attempting to explain that he was, indeed, not Giles. “That would be on, uhm, page 76.”

“Really? But that part’s all in Sumerian!”

“Oh. Well, maybe there’s a translation.”

“I don’t see how you can expect to quiz us on things that aren’t even in a language we’re studying this semester.”

“Right, right. I’m a terrible headmaster. I’ll go flog myself, right quick.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Uhm, now where is my office again.?”

James followed the bewildered girl’s instructions to Giles’ office and, upon finding it, began to tear through his books for some clue as to what was happening. Unfortunately, it seems that it wasn’t just page 76 of “Formgander’s Compendium” that was written in Sumerian. Everything seemed to be in languages he didn’t comprehend. Even those evidently in English mostly eluded him. He foraged through the bookshelf and then, finding nothing, rummaged through the desk. He didn’t find anything useful written down. He did, however, find a bottle of Lagavulin 16.

“Old Rupert did always have good taste,” he thought, as he took a sip.

It was then that he heard a knock at the door, and the extremely attractive girl—“What was her name again? Faith, that was it.”—popped her head in.

“Hey chief,” she said, casually. “Just checking in. You OK?”

James took another sip of Scotch.

“Peachy. Drink?”

He passed the bottle to Faith, who looked at him warily, but took a sip anyway.

“It’s just,” she said, hesitantly, “you’ve been acting like a spaz all day. I mean, it’s OK and all, but we’ve gotta think of the neighbors.”

“Oh, quite.” Said James, very lost.

“Geez, G-Man. That was a joke. Seriously, what’s up?”

James spent a moment appraising her, and then took another sip before speaking.

“Faith, how long have we known each other?”

“Huh? Ages now. Ever since I first came to Sunnydale.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. And why did you come to England with me?”

“After Sunnydale sunk? Well, it was either that or back to jail. You know all this, Giles. You and the council holdovers said you’d get my record wiped if I stayed and helped out here.” She took another drink. “You’re starting to scare me here, G-Man. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Nothing at…” he looked up at her. “Have I ever told you what a beautiful woman you are, Faith?”

“OK. Now you’re creeping me out.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m having a rather bad day.”

“Dude. Is the world ending? Cause if it’s not, whatever else is cake.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I was out of…”

“Well,” said Faith. “Can’t say I’ve never thought about it. You know, the whole, Watcher/Slayer thing.” She rose from her chair and slid onto the desk in front of him.

“Yes…Slayer…what’s a… never mind.” He reached a hand up to her shoulder, and pulled her close for a kiss. Their lips pressed against each other for a moment, and soon she had slid down from the desk and was straddling him on the chair.

“You…are the most…incredible….” He started to say, but Faith kissed him again. Her hand caressed his leg, and then ran up his neck, to his throat.

Suddenly, he realized her fingers were wrapped around his throat, and she was standing, hoisting him one-handed up above her head.

“So tell me, lover boy,” she said. “Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with Giles?”