Holy CRAP, erika.

In a good way or a bad way? And it's All. Your.Fault. And well Joss' and Jane E. and that woman-hater Tom Fontana. And my piss-poor lovelife.

In a "hominahominahominahomina, someone hose 'em DOWN!" way.

Hot, girl. Basic high heat.

I mean, imagine would Buffy would say....

Yay! That's where I was aiming.

Well, if that's where the arrow was aimed, you hit it, whang! in the gold.

Good...I wasn't sure I could do it.But hey, no throbbing, quivering or writhing.

The more television rated version continues:

Munch strokes her hair like it's the winning lotto ticket he's always searching for, like it makes him a lucky guy. Even from Munch this is very flattering, she thinks, though she shouldn't think of him as " just Munch" now.

A few minutes later, Kay's buttons are askew, and he says "Honey?"

"What did I tell you?"

"OK, Kay, my friend, Detective Howard then. Do you trust me?"

"Considering you're headed for Nipple Country, I'm gonna say yeah. Unless you specialize in black-market heart-transplants."

"I wanted to but I couldn't hack the math requirement, Come with me, please."

"What are you up to now?" she asked.
" And wreck the mystique? You know me better than that!" And he takes his tie off and wraps it around her eyes. "In case we're followed, babe. Privacy's harder to find than an honest suspect today."

"I'm not doing this,"
"What! You don't even know! Humor me, please."

So it's like every day at work, she thinks. "You're on your own if you wanna play Patty Hearst

"Is it wrong if I find your distrust strangely erotic?"

"You find pop-tarts strangely erotic," Kay pointed out.
"Make one cherry filling joke, you're a freak for life,"

-more-

Is it wrong if I find your distrust strangely erotic?"

"You find pop-tarts strangely erotic," Kay pointed out.

bwahahahahahahahahaSNARF!

And she just keeps on zingin' em on out...

And he guided her down the street, till they got to the alley behind the Bronze, which was getting loud as the Dingoes were competing to be heard among loud locals, singing "Louie, Louie." One last thing...I will literally not be able to live with myself if I don't say this." he said, opening the door and shouting "You suck! Get off the stage," at the non-Dingoes.
"What? I dig the Dingoes. Of course they suck too, but with heart, which is a hard thing to find in this profit-conscious impersonal age."
"Munchkin, this is...like an alley. With Dumpsters and shit."
"And privacy," He nuzzles her neck.
" And garbage." "Would you do it if I did an accent? I bet you would.
"My heart couldn't take that."
-more-

" I get that a lot...God, you're so beautiful, Kay."

"This is Christmas and your birthday." she said, getting in gingerly. Are you sure this is safe?"

"Positive. Pick-up is Wednesday and Saturday." She shot him her patented quizzical look. "I know from the job. What kind of weirdo do you think I am?"
She gestured. "I'm gonna say this kind,"

"Yeah, but look what else. A flower with my pervo-gram." And he hands her a rose.

"Aw, Munchkin."

"Could we work out a new nickname? Not disputing the affection, but 'Fuck me, Munchkin' sends a message I'm not loving. Ditto "Ride me like a stallion, Munchkin."

"We're not going to have to worry about the second one*John*. There's not much room in here."