Thanks...not that I'm sorry to be mistaken for debg...maybe married people type alike.

D'oh!!! No, sweet thing, that was two separate compliments. I am perfectly aware that you and deb are AS one on occasion, but you are not one.

Must. Be. Clearer. In. Feedback.

Kay singing 'Boots' was tee-riff. Deb's fourth thing was a wonderful slice of AU schmoop. Is that better?

DOOOOOOD!

I. love. that. confrontation.

Would have served Wes right if she'd chucked all over him, damnit. Back, demon? Jeepers.

Why, look! It's my muse, back from her sneaking off and leaving me to deal with real life. And she's brought the next part of V!Giles, Joyce and Xander on the road to the Convent of St. Eugene, with her.

They stopped for lunch at the same restaurant as they stopped at last time. The place was full of travellers this time, families on vacation, hikers headed for the mountains, people with maps and sunburns.

"And gas prices are easily twenty cents more per gallon than they were in the spring," Xander observed as they were finally shown to a table.

"So are the food prices," Joyce added, studying her menu.

"If you cover the refueling, I'll cover lunch." He saw her look at him in uncertainty. "I've been putting in a lot of overtime, I can easily spring for a tourist-priced lunch."

She smiled graciously. "All right, then. Deal."

To his surprise, the lunch she ordered paid mere lip-service to the idea of either healthy or low- cal. She bit into her bacon cheeseburger with delight, then made a noise of inquiry at his stare.

"You don't eat like a girl," he blurted out.

She swallowed and smiled. "Life is short. Eat a cheeseburger."

He nodded but his smile was a little forced. Life is short. Damned straight.

They worked through their burgers and fries and drinks in peaceful silence for ten minutes. When Joyce took a deep breath over her last fry, though, Xander braced himself.

"How's Anya?" she asked, paying more attention to the puddle of ketchup on her plate than to him.

"She's fine." He licked a finger and began picking up the stray sesame seeds from his hamburger bun. He finally couldn't help looking up at Joyce's continuing silence. She was wearing the Concerned Parent face, a look that only seemed to get directed at him by people he wasn't related to. "Don't, please," he said as she took another breath.

"Xander--"

"Please!"

She frowned a moment longer, then reached across the table to pat his hand. "All right, I'm sorry. It's just--we worry."

"Everything's fine." He couldn't help smiling just a little at the "I don't believe you" that went over Joyce's face. "We're--managing."

"And that odd--person. With the horns. Who you made the deal with. What about him?"

"D'Hoffryn. Anya's boss." He found some sesame seeds he'd missed. "Haven't seen him. When he shows I'll deal. When did you want to get back on the road?'

She frowned a moment more, then nodded. "We probably should get going. I'll meet you at the car."

Xander signaled for the check as he watched Joyce make her careful way across the restaurant. That hadn't gone nearly as bad as he'd been afraid of. And maybe she'd leave the subject alone. Too bad Buffy and Willow wouldn't take No for an answer on discussing Anya and the deal. He had no idea what D'Hoffryn had in mind. The demon might hold on to that debt for twenty years or something. What could the master of vengeance demons possibly need from one human? Best not think too long in that direction.

The waitress arrived with the check, and he headed for the cashier. Some snacks and some drinks for the rest of the drive, that would keep his mind away from things that were best left alone.

Thanks, Deb. I'm not sure how she'll adapt yet. And I need to find a list of Munch's ex-wives. Cause the only one I remember is Gwen, cause she did Lenny Briscoe. (Gwen is also my wheelchair's name, cause, difficult ride).And of course Billie Lou drove him from Balmer. But who was the first lamb led to nuptial slaughter?

But who was the first lamb led to nuptial slaughter?

Damn. No clue - I didn't keep track of John's wives.

There must be site or nine at which that info is housed...

I don't think he did, either. And you'd think so, right? But I haven't found it yet. SF/fantasy people are just more on top of that shit. I ended up googling myself accidentally while looking, and surprise! I'm not blind.

Munch POV: When I saw Kay on the stage, I thought it was a flashback to the '70s. Not that I knew her then, more like I had finally cracked the code on all those cockamamie seminars Alicia, my first wife, and the softest heart of my Nordic Goddess period, used to drag me to. Alicia was big on saving the planet, positive thinking, and making your desires manifest. Guess which part was my favorite. (I swear to God, Vishnu, whoever, that I did try. But all I could truly visualize was us being treated like suckers. And, honestly, who can be quiet that long? Anyone that can, I don't trust. They're hiding something, nu?)

Anyway, I felt that I missed Kay so much, I'd called her into being. Of course, even my imagination couldn't have called up that little song and dance, even if I suspected Howard of having hidden...dimensions. Even sitting next to the Princess it gave me a shiver.

Ah, Alicia. Still on the top five breast list.(The Princess is on the top twenty but I wonder sometimes if she shouldn't be in some Hall of Fame all to herself, some lifetime achievement Mammary Class, given the three hundred years faithful service.) Alicia had shampoo commercial hair, bright blue eyes, the whole Breck girl thing. I admit that was the first attraction...the heart attack my parents threatened when I brought her home. I tell people sometimes that my first disappointment as an adult was when they failed to have it...it's a great line, but I've said it so much, I'm not sure I believe it now.

-more-

Alicia wanted to save the world. And me. I'm not sure which was the greater lost cause. And I gave her hell, cause she was nice, and would take it. And I'm not. How dare she believe in me? She fucked with the whole misunderstood thing I had going, huh?(Great. Ten minutes with Kay, I'll probably do that for three days...Munch's Love at Midlife. Gulp. Is it still midlife if you die first?) I'd run a stake through my own heart fifty times to escape the look of horror on her face, brief though it was. I was going to tell her, but Little Lord Fauntleroy outed me. Him, I wouldn't mind scaring. "I have fangs and you don't. How do you like those odds, babe?" And, spare me the dime-store psychology on how Felicia sounds like Alicia and how I wanted to recapture...something.I've got it, Dr. Freud.

Is it still midlife if you die first?

There's an entire subset of fic waiting to be tackled, right there. I swear.

erika, would his "They're hiding something, no?" be more Munch as a "They're hiding something, nu?"