So it turns out the missing paragraph is the result of a rotten LJ-cut tag. (I left out the >, which made everything until the end of the next set of italics disappear.) It should read as follows:
She reached in, hefted a shiny hubcap axe. Balancing it between two fingers, Faith spun it; first clockwise, then counter-clockwise. "Aw, this is wicked. It would take out a dozen vampires at once. Line 'em up and knock 'em down."
"That's what I thought when Wes tracked it down. It's got some magic mojo on it, too, makes it extra-precise."
Faith nodded. "State of the art killing machine." She put the axe back in its cabinet. "You want to take it with you to Wolfram and Hart, or is this one we can have at the Slayers' Academy?"
It was August, sticky in Los Angeles. The Hyperion's ancient air conditioning hardly made a dent in the smog filling the building. After two months at Wolfram & Hart, Gunn had finally admitted to himself that the attorney upgrade was permanent. When Faith called to ask him if he'd be interested in helping her train some of the new Slayers, it was the push he needed to finally clean out the weapons cabinet at the old hotel; Angel, Fred and Wes had long since removed the weapons they wanted, but had left him the bulk of them. For "closure," Fred had said, propped against the couch in his new office, scooping nachos with extra guacamole into her mouth.
He halfway listened as she explained that it was important that he get his stuff out of the Hyperion, just as she had removed her techie toys and Wesley had dismantled the library. Gunn watched the way her ponytail bounced on the back of her neck as she spoke and thought: She might make goo-goo eyes at scientist boy, but when she's lonely, I'm still her eating buddy. He remembered, vaguely, that their relationship had ended badly, but brushed the thought aside. No point obsessing. Time to move on. Fred was ready to be friends – why wasn't he?
LJ, great story, even better with the middle. :)
Definitely a great story. Thanks for reposting that part.
See, I read it in LJ first, and commented here. That'll larn me.
I'm but an amateur self-flagellator. Tim Bayliss has me beat. Ironically, I just got invited to a (Buddhist) divine feminine deal this morning. I love these women but sometimes they drive me batshit...with the clean living. And the hummus.
Taking a break from the marathon cause I just saw the (boring) McBride case. Want Kay.Sigh.
oops. that belongs in Bitches, maybe.
Ooh, deb wrote Andrew/Dawn, my own personal "so wrong it's right" OTP. I liked it. And LJ's Faith/Gunn and more from Erika and Connie. I love catching up here!
Thank you.It's all for the wives.
MUNCH
Dru likes to be on top. And I am fine with that, given she could kill me in the time it takes to say “Daddy’s Little Girl”. I’m foolish enough to think this makes it hotter, the thought of fucking into dust.
I tell Dru to sit at Darla’s desk, wearing one of my shirts, and nibble a pen. She won’t wear pants though, just some frilly skirt, but she nibbles a Bic quite gamely, even though her look of concentration is more spacy than intense. She giggles. I feel a stab of...God, is that guilt? Maybe that soul thing is bullshit...a conspiracy dreamed up to further Judeo-Christian religion, I can believe it. There’s a lot of money in death and pain.
Look at Bernie the Prick and the mortuary...he’s another one I’d bite for fun, if he was in town. But Shana might miss him...whatever else he is, he’s her dad. And I’m really too lazy to get off my undead ass and follow him back to Balmer...maybe when She goes. Because it was never love between me and the Princess, even with the phenomenal sexual magnetism(I did mention it was phenomenal, right? Cause it is. History class did not do justice to the colonial period.)
But she could find another show pony. Another stud horse. In one way, I’m born to be undead, because as long as I don’t flaunt this thing with Dru , monogamy isn’t really part of the Sire/Fledgling contract. “Shh. We don’t talk much in this game. Not like the Name Game.”
“Let’s do Munchkin!”She says and laughs again. She really has acquired a taste for double entendre since we met and sometimes she is like a twelve year old bar girl from Bangkok.My unlife would be different if I met her first.
