The last line was the best part. Deb, wrod, and also how he gets upset cause all her things are there, and it feels like she's coming back. And still, we feel for Vaughn(or I do, checks heart, still bleeding) I love L&O too, but they don't do that. OK, Schiff does, at the end. That was a Simon story, iirc. Maybe not the redballness, but the stick-up boy that didn't have the heart for it.

Simon likes humanising all his takes. As a writer and as a reader, that makes me love his ass.

He sets the bar so high, though. Damn him."The Corner" rules, too, have you read it? Made me want to dust off my journalism background. I knew there was more to it than inverted pyramid and Joe Sixpack. I also can't wait to distress some uptight family member with my new knowledge of the heroin trade, but that's just me. YMMV.

I really think I'm wasting my life. But at least some of you get the benefits. Munch POV

When I get back from Wolfram and Hart, it’s already morning, and I’m glad that I always sought out the dark corners, though hiding my face in my jacket for the last mile or so makes me feel like a schmuck.The Princess is asleep. It startles me that vampire sleep looks like death, although that evil little smile curving her mouth would keep me from getting the crime scene tape. I hide the money with my clothes, because laundry is too pedestrian a concern for Her Highness...it’s for the minions(or me).

I’m relieved that Dru is off in her room chattering away to that damn doll. Since I’ve gotten away with sleeping with her, I hardly want to. And Miss Edith was always a turnoff anyway. And then, when I had Dru impersonate Kay, and she did it willingly, just because I asked(and let’s be honest, cause she doesn’t know which end is up) it wasn’t hot like I expected. I needed to believe she’d hate me if she knew what was on my mind...that she was torn between contempt and lust...sometimes you just need to feel something familiar, you know? It wasn’t Dru...it was the sin I wanted, even if I didn’t believe in it.
Darla must have heard me come in, she’s already standing up.(Vampires wake so suddenly, it “freaks my shit out’ to use your generations charming vernacular. No yawning, no bleariness, strictly on or off. I know this will stun you, but I’ve never been a morning person. I look at her like I’ve never seen her, this vision in the tawny silky thing, and I wonder how I could’ve ever cooled to her, much less agreed to be a double agent.

I am convinced that her fangs met my neck in the bite of destiny.Bite of destiny? God, it really is early.
I should have known, of course. I’m never more in love with a woman than when we’re about at the end.”One last time’ is always the best time I ever have...why do you think Felicia and I broke up four times. If we could have broken up about three times a week for a year, it could’ve been the happiest I could ever be. Kay says I’m a glutton for punishment, which thought brings images of my friend with a crop, which I brush away by looking concerned.
“Babe, Princess, what are you doing up? Was I too loud, darling?”

“John? Did you just get in?”
It’s funny...the more names I have for her, the fewer she uses for me. Dru calls me Munchkin cause she picked it up on one of her vision quests. It added to my little illusion so I encouraged it.

“I smell money,” she said, wrinkling that little nose that disappeared as she did it, which always charms me disproportionately.

“Money and orchids.”
I felt like she caught me fucking Lilah, and I felt that familiar “Oh, shit,” thrill along my spine. Even though I’m innocent. Innocent like Sammy the Bull went straight. God, I missed it.
And my traitorous non-beating heart is filled with love again.
”Just a little score, babe. Nothing much. You should be resting. Unless you don’t feel like it...”

It wasn’t Dru...it was the sin I wanted, even if I didn’t believe in it.

Mmmmmmm, nicely put.

Thanks...the Munchkin has always wanted to believe he's bad, a threat to the national order even.

darn it, I wanted to finish this scene tonight, but sleep insists.

Birdsong outside his window woke Xander, and he opened his eyes to whitewashed walls and a tiled floor. He was momentarily disoriented, but it was kind of nice. Somewhere bread was baking.

This was a smaller room than the one Anya had been given when they were here last. The ancient rope-strung bed was surprisingly comfortable, but he'd been unable to really settle down to sleep until he'd shamefacedly lit the candle in the lantern on the table. He wasn't afraid of the dark, but the dark in Sunnydale was a less thick and impenetrable thing than the darkness in the mountains in a building that was still ignorant of all forms of electricity. He'd actually spent five minutes marveling at how much light his digital watch could give off. But once he had a little light, he'd been able to settle down to a good night's rest.

Odds were he wouldn't get a crack at the washroom this morning. He'd gotten in late enough last night that he was able to get a proper bath without upsetting respectable female eyes. Still, there was enough water in the jug on the table to go on with. This simple life had its advantages. He wondered how big a solar panel he'd need to run a TV and satellite dish off of.

They were done with morning Mass and halfway through breakfast when Xander realized he hadn't had any of the usual dreams that plagued him in Sunnydale. Whether that was a result of him not having that one extra beer before bed or not having visitors lurking at the windows, he wasn't sure. But he liked this feeling, the one of actually getting enough sleep. He should have that stable finished in record time.

Baynar didn't show up to help for an hour or so. Maybe his mother held Sunday School or something for little demons. Xander heard him coming, calling "Za-er!" as he came.

"Right here, guy, I haven't gone anywhere yet." He pulled out the board he'd been saving as Baynar dashed in. "Just in time, I need somebody to hold this end up while I nail it in." Baynar bounced excitedly.

Another hour saw the end of the tool-using portion of the job. Xander was giving the attentive Baynar a lecture on the importance of cleaning up the jobsite when he realized they had an audience. Joyce was leaning in the doorway, smiling that maternally pleased smile that was so bizarrely disturbing. Baynar squeaked a little at seeing her, but he only took a cautious step closer to Xander instead of actually running for cover.

"Hey, Mrs. Summers. What can I do for you?"

She looked a little apologetic. "Well, I was wondering when you wanted to get going home."

Home. That was supposed to be a happier sounding word. "Never?"

She nodded. "I know."

She joined him in staring out over the valley, the crops in the field peacefully growing, the mountains in the distance.

"But," Joyce sighed, "we can't stay. It's not our place."

"It could be," Xander said. "Without too much trouble at all, this or someplace like it could easily be my place. It's quiet here. Peaceful."

"You're too young to be looking for peace and quiet." She smiled when she said it, but the smile faded as she looked at him.

"Young," he mused. "I remember being young, once." He squared his shoulders. "But, yes, you've got other places to be and footloose and fancy-free daughters to be scolding. When did you want to leave?"

That sound you hear is my heart breaking for Xander.

Damn.mine too.

Xander in pain. I shouldn't enjoy it so much.