This is not real fic. This is "Entertain self and others while burning off a LOT of coffee" fic.

Warning. Sugar shock.

Still Life in Slow Nights

"Bored?"

Faith's treating her stake like a cheerleader's baton, tossing and twirling it as they walk between tombstones, looking for signs of life.

She turns and looks over at Buffy. "Yeah, kinda. Cemetery's dead tonight." She says it without irony, but she's right.

Patrolling outside of the Hellmouth is more like looking for needles in haystacks than keeping the peace, especially now that all the Potentials have reached theirs. Buffy thinks about the trip they took through Romania, where the only vampires they saw were on postcards for tourists, or about the nights they spent wandering around Greece, fending off drunken businessmen.

It's boring compared to Sunnydale, but Buffy loves every minute of it. They're back in England for a few weeks while Willow and the coven try locating more of the newly-called and Giles trains Dawn and Andrew in research while Xander keeps the crew entertained with Sunnydale Puppet Theatre. Italy's next on the agenda, but Buffy's in no rush to get there.

"Race you to the St. John crypt," she says, and takes off at full speed before Faith can answer.

"Cheater." Faith manages to look sullen for all of two seconds before her eyes take on a glint that Buffy doesn't quite trust. A quick buzz of Faith's lips against hers, just enough to startle, and Faith's off and running. "DeWalter mausoleum."

Buffy knows she can't catch up, but that doesn't stop her from trying. Her lungs are as close to burning as they get, her heart pounding and her lips stinging where Faith's touched them. Faith beats her by half a stride, the glint still in her eyes, joined by a grin.

"Forgot to mention, winner takes all." Then Faith kisses her again, for real this time, and losing doesn't seem so bad.

And if you laugh at Munch’s jokes, he’ll follow you anywhere.

This is one I learned the hard way, in reverse: When she stops laughing at your jokes, it's over.

Connie, Erika (and PMM!), the work is beautiful.

connie, I am weak. I gave in and threadsucked.

I am also scared for Xander; I don't know why, but something in that last paragraph is worries me. I don't like the idea that he's outside the gate and the walls and (as far as I can tell) unarmed, for starters. And I don't like not knowing where Giles and Spike are.

Most of all, of course, I don't like not having the next bit NOW!

Fantastic stuff. Fantastic. And scary.

Woo hoo, Connie. Like I said, your stories were the reason the Munchkin's on his long strange trip now. So, brava, and thanks tons. Karl, maybe I should have put that in the divorce section. But there are other things Munchkin is kind of a whore for, and one is being told he is amusing(Not that this feedback junkie knows anything about that.) Masterful? Me? Not the first thought I would have, but thank you.

KAY

He called me Legs. I hate him, honestly, though after what happened it feels creepy to say so. Like tempting fate. Like I got this second chance, so I need to only think and do good things. I already know it won’t last, not forever. We humans aren’t really built like that, huh? If we were, I wouldn’t be so busy all the time. One person whose pain won’t be disturbing my sleep is my perp, Gordon Pratt. In fact, when they told me he was dead, my first thought was disappointment that I was pulling lime-jello duty at the hospital, and was denied that particular satisfaction for myself. Which scared me, more than a little.

Cause that’s one thing they always said to keep women out. That we’re more emotional, and likely to blow people away cause we’re on the rag, stuff like that. All I ever wanted was to be a pro. Personally, I used to worry more about Bayliss and Lewis.Their lids’ve always been on a little tight. But I’m not immune, and they weren’t the ones with the vigilante streak,huh? A few days later, I’m a little bit stronger and fineagle the report out of Timmy.

He didn’t want to do it. He was like caught between being a model cop and comforting an injured person. I was proud to see the human win out...I was afraid he was looking like administrative material for a while there. I’ve gotten kind of off track here, but I have to tell this last part, it’s vintage Timmy.
Ok, so Bayliss comes to visit me in the hospital. He stands by my bed making lame chit-chat then he says he brought me the book I’d asked for. I look inside and find that Tuesday book that they made the Jack Lemmon movie out of.

“Timmy, man,” I say. “I must’ve been higher than Munchkin at Woodstock when I asked for that. You shouldn’t have paid attention to...”

“I think you’ll find page 35 applies to your situation.”

So I open the book, and the investigation report spills out. 35 like my next birthday. And in a book to soothe Tim’s overactive conscience.(Don’t tell Frank or Munchkin, cause they’re so proud of their brains, but I think Bayliss has us all beat. He’s just much quieter about it.)

"lime jello duty" Heh.

Hepzibah and Mehitable

Always wanted sister cats named this, but it's Mehitabel. More with the Baynar and Xander. I can take whatever tortures you have in store for the Xan-man, connie, but please don't hurt little Baynar.

Plei, nice moment. Yeah, sweet, but nice.

Well, if you can be dead and be 10-7(out of service, if I never explained it before) Be in prison and be a "Guest of the state" Then I'm guessing you could call a long hospital stay "lime-jello duty"

I'm sure you could call it that. I just thought you--and Kay--were clever for calling it that. I love getting a glimpse of how her head works. You have her rhythms, that part feels almost instinctive, and it's an extrapolation of how Leo played the character as written by whomever. But using what we were shown of the character to illuminate new situations and making Kay more three dimensional than even Leo played her is an art and a gift.

Aw, thank you. Guess we're all getting a little mushy in Buffista Fic today, huh? Damn allergies. She's a great character. Asks a lot of me though...maybe it's some kind of woman-to-woman thing. Don't wanna be a secretary with a gun, though if, say, Allyson, were the secretary, bet she'd have to come up with a different phrase.

Plei always kills me. Then erika resurrects me.