"I've had those," Tim said, hoping he didn't sound as old as he felt. "They usually end badly."

"You know what your problem is? You take everything too hard. Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke, right? You'd be such a muffin if you'd smile more. And you're starting to get worry wrinkles."

"Excuse me," Bayliss said. "I'm not up on the hip words nowadays. What's a muffin?"

"Short for studmuffin. Absolutely. Edible. But I can't be sure till we run a test. Tonight? After your shift?"

Just adding a couple of lines to the above...as i see the conversation continuing:

"Hmm," replied Bayless, "studmuffin sounds a little like what my uncle John used to call 'horse apples' or 'road apples.'"

Bayless paused, a tiny smile cracking the corner of his mouth. "I wouldn't recommend eating road apples," he finished, bemused at the thought of being a 'muffin.'

ETA: just my 2¢. Just my opinion as to where the conversation could go. :)

Just so it's a comment on Faith's bull, not mine. :)

"Seriously, though, you don't even know me. I'm messy and obsessive, and I never sleep. My schedule is hideous, and I shouldn't be here right now. And I'm old enough to be, well, your much older brother anyway. Best of luck. Hope your appointment goes well."
" "Oh, for God's sake, I'm not proposing! Pretend it's the 70s."
His eyes narrowed. " Don't believe everything you see in the movies. And I'm not as old as you think I am. Too old to be having this conversation, though. One day you are going to come on that strong with the wrong person."
"As far as I'm concerned, I am already. I'm going in alone aren't I?" She made a great show of wrestling with her duffel bag of stuff and he pretended not to notice. He had made enough of a cliche' out of himself for one evening. Some muffin, he thought. More like a rice cake that wants its youth back.Frank was right. Some people are just not worth the effort.

Daniel, Faith would totally call him a muffin. I use the term myself and I'm pushing the half-century mark.

erika, more please. Like, asap.

Here's my Sunday 100 drabble. The theme was travel, and it works out nicely because I'd already done longer pieces featuring Darla in Tuscany, so this makes a lead-in.

Fiore della notte

The flight attendant had brought her blankets, iced Perrier, three extra pillows. He had also admired her big floppy hat and face-obscuring sunglasses.

She'd smiled at him, a lovely, heart-shaking smile. Her mouth was tender and her eyes crinkled. It was a shame about her allergy to sunlight, the attendant thought. She'd look smashing in a bikini.

Darla looked down as the redeye from New Orleans circled easily over the small airport in Florence. City of the Medicis, where the hills were green, the nights were decadent, and the blood ran hot in young throats.

She couldn't wait to deplane.

I didn't say she wouldn't. I just supplied more to the scene, not critisizing it.

I guess I don't understand where I said Faith wouldn't say that...

Daniel, sorry - that wasn't where I was going with it. Didn't realise it was an addition - it read like commentary, until I went back and read it again. The "just my two cents" is what threw me, I think.

Never mind.

I think I should have said, "Not trying to steal your narritive, just adding my continuation of the conversation, for what it's worth. please do not hit me for adding lines, please."

Is "my 2 cents" supposed to be only negative? I thought it was just a shorthand for "my opinion as to this topic, be it good or not."

Granted, I think I should have picked a clearer ETA... hee

Nonono, not negative, Daniel - opinion. But I never think of original writing as opinion. Result is, my brain went back and read the entire preceding dialogue as opinion instead of fic.

connie, deb, victor, please come here. I want to marry you.

A week away, and I've just caught up.

V!Giles is wonderful (I'm loving Xander, and Spike, and... all of it-- even Dreg); London is great (better to read about than be in, at this time of year), and with patience and a quick Google for background on Manchild, I'm following (kudos to the writing; I often have a hard time following crossovers unless I'm writing them myself or have a very good grip on both canons); deb, you drabble like... like ice cubes of honey, sweet and half-sharp and cold and confined into a beautiful shape.

Erika, I'm sorry, but I haven't been following your stories (lack of knowledge of the crossovers put me off to start with, and then lack of time for catching up. I will read them properly one day, I promise. And I still want to marry you, too).

You're all wonderfully talented. I love this thread.