Back from signing.

To find

(This is one secretary that might be all right with a gun.)

Excuse me. I think I just swallowed my tonsils. That is so. damned. perfect...

New V!Giles. Tara and Willow, more Xander/Joyce road trip

[link]

Drabble the first. This week's theme: A sunset, in summer.

Warmth (Angel)

There is sunlight, falling on his skin.

It hits him in vagrant strands, glancing bands of prismatic colour. They edge him with a nimbus, now bright, now blurred. Los Angeles shines with the last of the day's light, those same bands moving across buildings and freeways like forgotten echoes.

This sensation, the bliss of warmth against his flesh, has the novelty of something long lost. It has been two centuries since he felt this.

As night moves in, he takes the Gem of Amara from his hand, and smashes it beneath his heel. The hope of freedom disintegrates with it.

Second drabble, same theme.

Oncoming Darkness (Buffy)

Night's coming.

She gears up for this, every day of her life. Chosen, annointed, born to it - all of this translates in Buffy's mind as "no choice". She is allowed to be alive and real, to live a life that she actually chose for herself, between sunrise and moonrise. Beyond that, she becomes what she herself has come to hate: something that treasures the hours of darkness, something that hunts, something that kills.

The long summer day begins its inexorable crawl down into the violet-tinged moment when the sun hits the yardarm.

And the graves open.

And she hunts.

Lovely drabbles, Deb. erkia, I cant wait to see what sparks fly between Kay and Wesley.

connie, comments in your lj.

Thanks. Beverly. Right now, she is giving him a lot of shit, as you can see, because he's awkward and talking about his butt...I could see a fascination developing.Especially cause I wanna "hear" him pick up words like "whodunit" and "yo". As always, Deb, perfect description. And I have to join the legions of people bitching about "Wyndam" Pryce...it's never gonna look right. Connie, comment in your lj.

Just a little bit more...but I'm still feeling like vanity gal, in here taking up the thread space.

"OK, Wesley," I say. "I grew up on an island, too. Probably not as nice as yours...I've never been, just seen the photos."

"It has its moments," he said, smoothly. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Ok, then, meter's running, huh? I'm here cause my friend, John Munch, another detective, came here on vacation, and hasn't been back or called. And he's the kind of guy who announces himself...tells you more than you want to know, honestly."

" I think I know something about that," Wesley said, shooting Cordelia a look.

"Excuse me for living, Mr. Stiff Upper Lip."

"If you'd shut up sometimes, I might not have to!"

"I try to give the benefit of my experience, and all I get is grief."
"What?" I ask. "More clothes advice?" I'm just asking cause I want a few minutes to get my story straight...it's weird on this side of the desk...the only other time it happened was about Crosetti, and I didn't know anything, so that was cake, in a depressing sort of way. But thinking about Steve makes me think of the Munchkin pulling a "Final Exit'(He can be a real miserable bastard sometimes...although some of it's just talk...I can't always tell.) And if I think about that now, I'm just gonna lose it right here, and I can't take any tips about cry-face.
Luckily Cordy does run her mouth a lot. " No! Bad hair(she says in a tone reserved in my family for uterine fibroids and such) You don't have to worry about that. Although, nobody is wearing it that length this season, you might want to consider a cut."

"No, no, she won't," Wesley says...I have to strain to hear him.
"I'm sorry?"
"I meant that you have more important things to consider, with someone missing...did your friend have enemies?"

"Yeah...of course. The enemy thing with the Munchkin is complicated. Because he has whole lists of people he hates that don't even know he's alive. Newt Gingrich, Strom Thurmond, that Alanis girl on the radio...guess he doesn't wanna know what he "Oughta Know" huh? And that brings us to his Pissed-off Exes. Felicia, an artist named Brigitte something.... Gordon Pratt, the wannabe cop-killing asshole, who I hope is in a gunshop in hell right now, may God forgive me."

"Brigitta Svendson?" Wesley says. "I saw her work when it came to LA...it was a revelation about the dark side of decadence."

"Well, think about if it was your...revelation that the hometown crowd was looking at, huh?"

He's cradling an old book like it's a member of his family,

I love this image, erika.

Anyone want to send me plot-bunny-generationma? I'm signed up for a ficathon, due Saturday. I haven't yet started, because the person I'm writing for asked for Connor/Dawn friendship in a specific, fluffy situation, and one that makes the most sense if it's set in the near future.

Angsty Connor/Dawn, I would be all over. But fluffy? Without the false memory thing to talk about (and there's no way to fit it into what was requested without some really awkward shoehorning,) that's not Connor/Dawn, that's Dawn/someguywholookslikeConnor. Which is kind of like those AUs where Angel isn't a vampire.

I have no idea how I will write this. I keep starting and deleting. Ack.

Apologies for the whining.

Like Connor/ Dawn at the prom? People... Glad you liked the image...I figured if there was anybody that would confuse it would be Kay, not that she doesn't read,not much compared to Wesley, though, and not with the same reverent outlook, for sure.

I'm still feeling like vanity gal, in here taking up the thread space.

Every time these past few weeks when I've felt like I was just going to lay down my head and give up, I've come in here to find Kay being wonderfully snarky. Vanity or sanity, you make the call.