There's an old, venerable fic bunny chewing on lettice at the front of the bunny hutch. I've known him for a couple of decades now, and it might be time to give him his due.

That said, does anyone know of any cool sites that have information on the old series "Night Stalker," that joy of my teenage years and late night companion on weekends in college? Or am I just going to have to look for myself?

Erika, you're an utter and complete genius. I hadn't seen the whole thing together before, and it's beautiful. The H:LOTS world lost a great writer when you weren't born twins. Xander being the mini-Bayliss is just lovely.

And the cadences and flow of conversation are gorgeous and natural, full of snark and sweetness. Poetry in motion, as it were.

LJ, just about to curl up and read yours.

Connie, you just named one of my favourite shows, and in fact, damned near the only thing I ever watched in the seventies.

erika, keep it coming, babe. Just, keep it coming.

Drabble. This week's theme is "creation":

Down the Dark Ladder

She never knew how it happened.

Before, there had been nothing; only a void, as vast and dark as the space before the Big Bang. She - the word was futile, there was no pronoun in human language to fit what she was - she had drifted, concentrated, aware of everything, nothing, a shimmer of light and power, at once empty and all-consuming.

She hadn't known she was wanted. She hadn't known she was hunted.

Monks, chanting in a patois of Serbo-Croat, took her from a greenish sparkle of energy. From that, they created a sister, a daughter, a Key.

edit: Whoa. LJ, that's fucking smoking. There was something especially sexy in this line for me:

I think I've learned efficiency.

Because dayum, put the boy in his place, you know?

And one thing, I think is a typo:

she hardly noticed as his fingers found a finger and twisted it, hardening it into a pebble

Finger? Should that be a nipple?

Aw, man, Karl broke me. If I said I wanted to run away with you, would your wife hold it against me?(/Munchkin)And yeah, I was proud to find the Xander-Bayliss connection...there was a chart...it was a thing. I would've had to be a fucking prodigy to write TV at twenty(or Mr. Whedon's dirty little secret.) Also, it'd probably get tiring playing "My face is up here." with Mr. Fontana every day, but every career has its sacrifices,huh? If he would agree, I could ditch the V-necks. Deb, thank you. Unfortunately thanks to so much Munch exposure only the early hour enables me to respond to "coming" like an adult. Mornings are good for something, who knew?

A little more Munch/Darla: Kay Howard was sitting at her desk pretending to work, something she prided herself on doing rarely till now. The Munchkin was supposed to be back from vacation today and he wasn't. Neither had she gotten some obnoxious taunting phone message telling her he was extending his visit to La La Land. As hour followed quiet hour, Kay was starting to get a very creepy feeling about the whole thing. Maybe I'd better rattle some cages in the City of Angels, huh? she thought. But her Visa was still on the critical list from fixing her water heater. Best to not go off half cocked
She ambushed Bayliss coming out of the coffee room. "Timmy?" she said, trying to sound casual, "Have you talked to John recently...about the bar or swizzle sticks or anything?"

"Why, Kay? Some kind of swizzle crisis?" Tim asked, both amused and taken aback.

"What do I know about running a bar? Closing 'em out, sure...but...promise me this won't leave this room."

"Sure...whatever," Tim said.
"Nope, not good enough. I need to know this won't be making the rounds...does the word cuffoon mean anything to you?"
Tim blushed and nodded. " This needs to be a bigger secret than that,hmm. You were the only one who didn't make fun of me for that ghost thing, and I never forgot that, but you have to swear, on Adena's memory, that you will not say *anything*...I'm worried about Munch, Timmy."

"Wow, this sounds serious. But maybe it'll sort itself out."

"Maybe he's another Crosetti, Timmy. But I'm not a Meldrick, huh? I can't ignore my instincts here."

If I said I wanted to run away with you, would your wife hold it against me?

I don't think so; she's giggling over here. She says that as long as you return me in one piece ("slightly ruffled is OK"), she's all good with it. I was chuckling in so many spots when I read the whole opus that she's now convinced she has to read it, even though her H:LOTS experience is limited.

(unbelievably charmed) Unlike my ani-Munch, I feel a real impulse to protect the (dubious) sanctity of my 3 or 4-way ficcer marriage...but if we ever end up in a bar in Hong Kong, I, and my abiding interest in art and philosophy? Would be happy to let you ravish me.( how's that for an inside reference?) Sigh...if all of the people(including me) whom I have talked to about H:LOTS watched while it was on, it could have been like L&O instead of "The Best Show You're Not Watching"...serves them right, not coming to me, like Merrick came to Buffy to explain my television writer's birthright.

Thanks for the comments, everyone. It turns out sex scenes are kinda fun to write. Who knew?

Wrod...although I've been known to make myself sweat and giggle nervously at the exact same time.Approaching VampLove very cautiously...part of me still doesn't want to be that kind of girl.

Second drabble, same theme (creation).

Trauma

There is a dark place where there should be none.

It sits, a microscopic nodule of quiescence atop a healthy-looking bit of tissue. A picture taken of it would show a pinpoint of uncertainty, a shadowy patch that only an eye trained in the mysteries of such things might read. It doesn't seem enough to cause the sudden searing headaches; certainly it's too small to kill.

And yet, without movement and without growth, it can do both things.

Joyce, not knowing what else had come into being when her second daughter was made, winces and sways, and reaches for aspirin.