I'm a very bad man. So bad, I'm linking to it, even though it's PG.

Mutating Paradigms and Other Shifts in Reality

It's, umm.

kinda B/G

I've got a certain weakness for B/G. I'm probably going to Electra Complex Special Hell. It's not an OTP or anything, though.

"We would have gotten a utility belt guy." But that's neither here nor there. I'm just trying to explain why I enjoy climbing from rooftop to rooftop, even when, strictly speaking, there's no need for it. The Princess hates when I do it, claims it attracts too much attention, blah, blah, blah. She doesn't know what my new agility means to me The honeymoon has gone on long enough that I no longer pay attention to every syllable out of her perfectly shaped mouth, gifted though that organ is. Sometimes, I like my time alone. Better that than mediating between the Princess and Dru. Some of their smallest beefs still go back fifty years And did I mention the claws? -more-

This time of night, the streets are mine. Mine and some poor detective's. But this time, I'm not the one mainlining bad coffee and cursing my superiors' parentage.
I pass cautiously by the Hyperion Hotel. I've heard a lot of rumors about the place, but I don't know what to believe, and it turns out the undead are just as full of shit as everyone else, which kind of disappoints me. I hoped for truth-divining powers, at least. A flash of something catches me attention with my nifty new peripheral vision, and I tell myself I'm looking for a bite, though I'll be tasting that claims adjuster's thin blood for hours. The truth is I was born a nosy bastard and I'll un-die one too.

I swoop down on the rooftop, a little more dramatically than necessary, I admit. I was stunned to find none other than Detective Howard, holding herself against the tiny, imagined, nip in the air(It is kind of cold for California, though. And she's dressed funny, a big sloppy shirt on top, dress pants, and tennis shoes, no socks. From this outfit I can see two things.Either she is really cold or this is a pleasant surprise. And she's got no pockets. Which I guess is only important in view of the next part of our conversation.

"Kay," I say, speechless for once.
"Don't come any closer. I've got a stake and I know how to use it, huh?"

Ericaj: It's true...Pretty hot.

Thank you.

Yeah...I liked it,WS. Glad you came back in to get the credit.

Erika, that's really cool--though I can't hear her saying "Huh" at the end of the stake line. Could be I need to clean my ears. You're an evil creature. I like that about you.

Yes, it might be excessive at that...but this whole story tends toward excess. And I think she might, if she doesn't really mean it...but I'm not telling, just yet.

Heh. I lied and created a cheap cliffhanger just because...network TV might be in my future after all.

She stuck out her chin in that way she has but I could tell there was no intent behind it. Just to be safe, I kept about a person's width between us."Where?" I asked. "Taped to your thigh?(in which case, lucky stake!) What are you doing up here?
Don't tell me you convinced that British Poindexter to join the twelve-stories-high club!"

"No, it's nothing like that," she said, not looking at me. "Why don't you give your sense of humor a rest some time, huh?"

I believe I mentioned to you that there are times I can be very stupid, right? One of the ways I am stupid is mistaking an absence of homicidal intent from a woman as an opening. This time it kind of worked out but last time it happened, with my third wife, Nancy? It took a restraining order to clear up my confusion(If you're keeping score, I'm not holding my breath, provided I still needed it, for closure on that one.) I sit to show her that my fangs are staying inside my mouth, but the demon smells her worry and fatigue and counts the pulses in her neck. I do something I rarely do: tell one of my urges to shut the fuck up. It's surprisingly simple. The part that's not is the part where I can't get credit for my sacrifice...the karmic gold star, you know what I'm saying, babe? Although I know "Look, Kay, I'm resisting the urge to drink your blood like latte!" is not exactly confidence-inspiring, even if I don't drink latte. -more-