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.

"like ice cubes of honey'...what a nice phrase.

More, all, more!!!

Deb, I just don't understand how you do a 100 word drabble and convey the essence like that. Very nice. Very.

It's ok, Am, babe. I imagine they'd be hard to follow for you, with the cross-culturality and not seeing the show. Daniel is totally right in one respect. Timmy would not accept such a compliment because he's "not worthy"(Lots of us think otherwise, but not him, right. And it's BaylIss. Bayless used to be a grocery store round these parts when I was a sprog. It's hard enough not to type that anyway.)

Because I'm not feeling esp. hot(except temp-wise) today, the end of Kay's story.

Kay surveyed her best black dress. It looked like she'd been sleeping in it, but it was her only choice, so she put it back on. She couldn't face the Pumps of Doom again, so she gave them a dirty look and put on some white sandals that some other "guest" of Whistler's had left. It occurred to her to wonder how often he did that, but she realized she wasn't exactly Miss Moral High Ground at the moment.

She hoped to get in the squad without seeing anyone, but Munch was prowling around as usual." Interesting ensemble, Detective Howard. You smell different, too. I detect the magic of pheromones. And detection is what I make the big bucks for, after all."

"John, for God's sake. 'The magic of pheromones' What are you, fifteen? I'm trying out a new perfume."

But he was undeterred." Hey, give me a break. I'm living vicariously. And perversely disappointed we didn't do the 'hunting down like a dog ' thing. And even Felicia, God rest her soul, gave me credit for being seventeen."-more-