Andrew reading made sense to me, Kat.

(Gah. I wore a patch for several days after a rugby injury and collided with everyone/thing just walking! I can't imagine driving one-eyed. I guess you learn to compensate.)

(laughing at the Howardization of Buffista fic.)

Buffistas are the best editors evah. I love that y'all really make me think about what I write and why I have the characters do the things that they do, especially because I am the queen of laziness. Usually, my writing process is: write, spell check, post. I'm not exactly what you'd call reflective.

I assume that he could do so if he chose to. It just seemed to me that he was touched by Andrew's offer and accepted it.

Yup - that was my take. Besides, Andrew has whole natural drama thing going, and I imagine he'd read beautifully.

OK, this is from Kay again...guess you're not gonna get rid of those "hmms" anytime soon.
A woman on the Job sees a lot of shit. Not just your cases, cause that's kind of equal-opportunity anyways, for a detective. But there's a reason they call it "man's inhumanity to man", hmm? Men kill other men, and I'm there to clean it up. And there's your fellow officers, usually a great bunch of guys but they sort of forget the squadroom's not a locker room, huh? I know too much about all of 'em, except maybe Pembleton. And there are the real pigs. Every woman I trained with has a story about receiving some of the less attractive exhibits from Vice in the mail with her Christmas cards(I hope to God it's different now. I hope young women rookies don't still have to look at Tatiana performing private acts on herself while wearing a boa constrictor. I bitch about the quota system because it puts green recruits out on the street before they're ready, and if they're women, it's a reflection on me...just eating away at the respect I've built. But I hope it accomplished that much.)So I pretty much walk around with my jaded seen-it-all face on all the time. It's more natural to me than lipstick now and easier to reapply.

But it's no match for Caritas, which reminds me of the cantina scene in "Star Wars", which, I have to confess, is the last part of that movie I really remember...I went to see it with Chick, my first boyfriend, and by the time Luke Skywalker blew up the Death Star, we were rounding third base, which I certainly found a lot more interesting. I've tried watching it several times since, but I just find myself getting...how should I put this delicately? nostalgic, huh? But as Wesley and I walk in, I keep expecting somebody to ask us about Han Solo, or some director showing up to straighten everybody's spines for 'em.I marvel that Wesley, who seems pretty much all thumbs at human contact, seems so at ease with the creepy-crawlies.

He greets one of them pretty warmly, for Wesley...there's even some physical contact. I start to wonder if that may be why he gets so awkward when I tease him about pulling the train out of Platonicsville. Great, Kay, I tell myself, the whole Munchkin thing is not complicated enough without you getting a crush on a guy with a big green life-partner. With horns. But I thought Wesley noticed the chemistry too...I'm a detective, I should be good at this shit.

Wearing a boa constrictor?

Dude, I can hear her saying this. And I lvoe the way she's thinking about the whole gender deal here.

I'm proud to say that I can take no credit for the snake image...I believe that happened in a Wambaugh novel, and since I have Massive Snake Fear, it must have taken up space as The Grossest Thing(And I have read cases of police departments where the women are really harrassed by The Porn.) Thanks, Deb.(Sometimes it's like she talks to me, like Agnes Sanders talks to her...well, that one time. I'm also stalling on the Munch and Kay meet-up.) Cause I'm not sure how it will play out.

I wonder if she'd kick his ass over Darla?

Nah.

ok, a little bit more of First Meeting With Lorne. Maybe he's a human actor, I tell myself, but my gut is not getting a "Let's put on a show" feeling off the place, and my gut did lead me to the highest clearance rate in the squad(Am I boring about that? It is one of the things I'm proudest of, but the last thing I wanna be is like some girl with her new boyfriend, everything comes back to him."You planted carrots? Bob likes carrots."Sheesh. My clearance rate and I are fine with carrots, if you're wondering.)
When Wesley comes back with our drinks, I ask him, while trying to look and not look at the same time...which, how stupid is that?
"Wesley," I say, out of the corner of my mouth "is that guy really green?"
"Pardon?" I never knew anybody outside those old movies with the smoking jackets ever said that.There's like a furry monster couple arguing behind us, so I speak up a little, but in the time it takes to get Wes' attention back, the female(trust me I know) runs off and the guy clams up. So it's like the whole place can hear me when I say "Is that guy really green?" I'm completely embarrassed.
A friendly voice pops up with "Yeah, peaches, it's all me. And like the song says, "it ain't easy. Just let me finish my seabreeze...I'll give you a closer look."
"I'm sorry...you must hate me." And for some reason, it bothered me that he might, even though I still had my eye on the horns.
"Hate you? No way. You have such a strong aura that I can read it from here. Even though somebody forgot to introduce us. "

A Bob reference!

And a Kermit Joke!

(settles back to wait for Kay to sing)