(grinning evilly at erika)

It'll be a while...take the sting out of Howardless Homicide.

Heheheh. She could always go back to the squad after fighting some serious evil with Angel's crew. Can't you just see her with the Big Rubber Demon? "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT UGLY-ASSED THING?!?!?"

Plus, Kay would be a major help with the AI crew, because unlike them? She understands after emptying one clip into a demon that the gun thing probably aint gonna fly.

I could see her after, saying that the streets of Charm City felt a lot less scary."Give me a good dope murder, any day." And she knows how to dress for slime.

Kay Howard is the only television detective ever whom I would not only trust, but expect, to walk up to something like thre Big Rubber Demon, say something entirely realistic and exasperated, and then without thinking too much about the logistics, break the critter's arm.

"Oh, for the love of... Do I have to do everything?" Grr, argh, squish. "I'm not cleaning that up...I'll tell you that, right now."

"I'm not cleaning that up...I'll tell you that, right now."

And glaring at everyone as she says it. I wonder how she'd work with Gunn? Probably superbly. She likes brains and she respects stubbornness.

OK, my brain is draining.

Buffy shags Angel, he loses his soul - what the hell was the name of the episode?

Edit - never mind. Not Innocence - Surprise, right?

Yes. Sex in Surprise, Angel wakes up gasping, takes several minutes to put on his clothes (including coat), stumbles out into the rain, falls down and twitches. Beginning of Innocence is where he pops back up and eats the smoker.

Well, shit. I couldn't stand it anymore.

Be warned - total schmoop.

Fourth Thing That Should Have Happened in Sunnydale

"You're shivering."

She was; he was quite right. The water in the harbour had been as cold and dank as the taste of failure, knowing they'd lost that crucial piece of the Judge.

"Angel -" Her teeth were chattering, nearly grinding. Cold, wet, reaction setting in, the flicker of energy as the adrenaline of that fight at the docks crested and then sank. She was played out, limp, exhausted. And half frozen.

"We need to get you into dry clothes. You're going to catch pneumonia. Come on - my place."

Somewhere between the docks and the cemetery, Buffy gave up. This was a rarity for her - she was the Slayer and the Slayer stayed alert, aware, one movement would take her across the room, ready to do what she'd been chosen to do. But tonight, she was turning seventeen, the world was likely going to see something she might not be able to stop, and yet all she could think about was her own relief that Angel wasn't leaving, wasn't sailing, wasn't taking that damned demon's funky-assed arm off to the Gobi Desert or wherever.

When that realisation, and her own acceptance of her own enjoyment, sank in, she gave up being the Slayer. It snuck up on her, slow and easy, as Angel led them through Sunnydale, dark streets, side alleys, stopping, despite his worry over her, to make certain they were still alone. The understanding, his protection of her, loosened her Slayer-skin a bit more, making it that much easier to slough off, for just a while, a blessed little bit, where she was turning seventeen and she had this gorgeous guy looking out for her, caring what happened, worrying over her. She stepped away from the Slayer-skin and became Buffy Summers, sixteen-going-on-seventeen, wasn't that a song from some stupid musical her mother liked? Oh hell, her mother, and what was Giles going to say when he found out they'd lost the arm, screw it, she didn't care. Caring about that was the Slayer's job and she'd been the Slayer nonstop for a while and she was taking a birthday break, for cake and dry clothes and -

"Buffy?"

(continued)