he had a resolve that would not be tampered with

That's my boy. OK, my and Elena's boy. Oh, all right, we'll share. A little.

I just want to let him be the hero(and Bayliss' mouthy doppleganger) then you can defile and corrupt him, I promise.I'm not overusing that gag, am I? Cause I think it's funny, but I might be the only one. "Virtue isn't virtue unless it slams up against vice." after all.And I think when FP said "slam" he meant porn. But I'm glad you thought he was good...I've not written much for the Xan-Man.

I'm rethinking the Tim N Willow scene at the Bronze right now.. note the absence of/....but dude, would that be the awkward leading the awkward or what...but I keep coming back to Munch and Spike at Willy's. So, just because: Munch said "Ok, assuming you're right, how exactly would this vengeance bit go down?"
Spike said "It usually involves a wish...something like 'God, I wish the irritating git next to me would find somewhere else to take his boring personal problems. Only with warts or banishment. Then the demon touches her power center and Bob's your uncle."
Munch says "That sounds incredibly hot."
"Wrong power center. It's usually on a chain or something. And they say I have a one track mind. Bloody Hell! You make me look like Robert Sodding Browning. And you're stingy with the drinks, too. I thought your people say that's just a myth."
"My 'people'? I come here seeking information, and a little solidarity, and all you do is get ethnic. I feel incredibly sorry for you, Sid."
"Spike. Sid's more dead than me. Poor bastard."
"We'll have two more over here," Munch said. "I have to make a phone call."
Spike chuckled and said "I knew it would work."
Eavesdropping was one of Spike's favorite nonviolent, non-naked hobbies. Munch said "Gwennie, it's me,"Spike laughed, as the pause lengthened. "Your ex-husband. John. I've got something to ask that might be a little strange."
"When have I not? What the hell is that supposed to mean, Gwen? If memory serves, I wasn't the only one getting two rides on that trolley in San Francisco. And, no, I haven't been drinking...for Christ's sake, Gwennie, I do too call you sober. Listen, do you still resent me?"
"I know it's a stupid question...I'm humbling myself to ask a stupid question, here. God, he sounded all right, Spike thought, but he made Peaches sound virile, when you got right down to it.

Then the demon touches her power center and Bob's your uncle."

Munch says "That sounds incredibly hot."

Goddamnit, erika, I just hurt myself, swallowing down the wrong pipe.

Evil woman.

I know. Hopeless isn't it. I may need a program or something.

then you can defile and corrupt him, I promise

Erika is so NICE. And, please, make him as heroic as you please. Heroes who suffer are very nice.

Oh, and for those who care, I put that piece with Spike and Dru and the moon landing up on Fanfic, Shriftweb, and my website. It's called Nothing New Under The Sun

t she says, trolling for hits on her counters

"Heroes who suffer are very nice." This is true. Although I've only discovered this through Bayliss-oost, I have to say. He works better pained.I figure Xander's messed-up background is going to be an asset, somehow, much like for the detectives.

Tim Bayliss felt sure things were out of hand at the Bronze.Too many bodies,(many of whom were married to other, absent, bodies. They should be ashamed. Tim was, just watching. But he couldn't stop watching.) It was like a car accident with breasts. Or what happened at his parents' cocktail parties.

Once when Tim was nine, he caught Mrs. Green and Mr. Randall, the neighbors on opposite sides of the Bayliss', in the closet together. Really caught them, with their hands all over each other. He tried to tell his mother, but she'd said he'd misunderstood, that they were just being affectionate, and what were you doing with the closet open anyway, Timothy? End of conversation. He was always Timothy when he was in trouble.My mother is such a liar, he thought, not for the first time. And not only about stuff like that. She told me a big white smile and a firm handshake would impress people, but she didn't know what it was like...everybody having fun and being in on something, and you are too shy to say anything, having to practice what you do say in the bathroom mirror.Under your breath so your brothers and sisters can't hear and laugh. Or your father, who might...he still can't think about that. But other people called it discipline so sometimes Tim did, too,
Except with his cousins. They were brave, so they made him brave. Like the people at work now.

"Old man still riding your ass, Timmy?" they'd say.

"Only when I'm awake," he'd say, trying to match their tough tone.

"I don't get it, T.J. You don't even do anything. Not girls, not drinking.You even do your homework, for Chrissake,"

"I'm sure I do plenty," Tim said. "You don't see everything."

"I'd still like to go ten rounds with him."

" Don't say that. You could get in trouble."

"God, Timmy, don't shit a brick. It's only us here."

Yeah, Bayliss, he reminds himself, don't shit a brick. He takes a glass of the punch, even after that weird little Snyder guy complains cause somebody spiked it.He makes a point not to look at the Snyder guy, if he's learned anything in school, it's that vibes are contagious and that you try to avoid geek vibes.He senses how everybody avoids Snyder, and knows if he took his side he'd get some of the same. And there's something there Tim himself doesn't quite like.But his conscience nags him enough that he shrugs and gives the principal a look that says "it's nothing personal."

It's really getting loud in here. Tim likes it better when it's quiet. -more-

A familiar voice says "You suck! Get off the stage!" as the doctors and accountants swing into "Louie, Louie" for the third time. Badly. That Munch is such a ballsy guy...just says what he thinks when he thinks it. Tim could never do that.He looks at the gyrating couples. He could never do that either. He'd feel stupid.Frank had said they'd be here only an hour but he is too busy laughing and being amusing to notice the time.The intense genius, Frank Pembleton, laughing. Something Tim never gets to see. I knew it, he thinks, it is all my fault.He fishes in his pocket and brings out one of his candy bars, which is soft from the heat in here. Chocolate always feels good, he thinks. Only his mother's relentless lectures on manners stop him from licking melted chocolate off his fingers.A little redhead comes up to him. She's cute. Tim blushes, and looks at the floor.
"Are you Tim? Cause I've been looking for you,"
" You must have me confused with somebody else," he said.
"Not unless there's another detective that looks lost with big brown eyes. That sounds like you. This place is kinda intimidating, huh? I used to feel that way but my friends and I are in here all the time. And my boyfriend's a Dingo. I'm with the band. I love it when I get to say that."
"If you have a boyfriend, what do you want with me? Oh, God, I'm sorry...I can't believe I said that. I thought this was a prank or something...forgive me."

"No big. It's flattering, really. And you look so much like...somebody I had such a big crush on...I don't get that much attention from guys."
"Me either...from girls, I mean. I look like Xander, right? Does it disappoint you to see how Xander ends up? Because I was Xander. Without all the jokes.He's pretty funny." He takes out the last candy bar. "Want half?"
"Trust me," Willow says. "You don't want any more of that."
"Yes," Tim says, "I do. I want it very much. Everybody tells me what I want and don't want. My parents, my boss, Frank...other people. And you, Pippi, a complete fucking stranger? You don't get a vote. OK? I'm sure there's a gold star with your name on it somewhere."
"OK! But I think you should know...you're not yourself. And my name's not Pippi!"
"I'm sorry," he said. "What is your name?" He felt bad, hearing her voice shake.
"Willow Rosenburg, And that chocolate's tainted."
"That makes two of us," Tim says.

And you, Pippi, a complete fucking stranger? You don't get a vote. OK? I'm sure there's a gold star with your name on it somewhere."

"Willow Rosenburg, And that chocolate's tainted." "That makes two of us," Tim says.