erika, I almost don't *want* tosee the real Homicide because I don't think I could love the real Kay as much as the way you write her.
And thanks for the reassurances, y'all. I agree the sex is kind of stuck in there ... it seemed like it wasn't a 'fic without some smut, but you're right that it's not organic as the story stands; will have to either expand it or cut it out. I just wanted to be sure I didn't butcher Connor.
know Charmed better than I'd like other people to know I do
So you noticed that I managed to make the spells almost as stupid as the real ones?
Aw, that's so great!She's a great character, though...it's in there till they made up some bullshit to write her off with so she had to fight with everyone and disappear. Besides, they ditched her for, like "The Babes of Homicide" "We solve murders. And we're very pretty."
(Picturing Tom Fontana going to visit Warren... hey, it's one explanation)
Of course, being charitable, I could say that I'm not writing for Frankentim, who can be very distracting. And by distracting, I mean...
And here is my Cordy ficathon entry. AU after "Tomorrow" -- Cordy turns down the "higher being" gig and ends up going to a certain formerly one-handed, morally dubious ex-lawyer for help findng Angel. The request was for Lindsey/Cordelia, but I couldn't find a way to ship them.
Driveby, for Open on Sunday. Drabble theme this week is "accidental confessions."
Thought Police
How to handle it, how to handle it...
Not your business.
"Oh, like hell," she muttered. It wasn't as if she'd gone digging for the information; if they wanted to keep it quiet that badly, maybe they shouldn't have gone there in the first place.
Eavesdropper.
"I wasn't eavesdropping," she told the inner voice. "They thought it, not me. Did I ask to be able to hear their thoughts?"
Don't even go there.
"Damn it." Buffy took a long breath, and marched off to ask Giles if he'd really had sex with her mother on top of a police cruiser.
More of Angel in Sunnydale...
The easy arrogance, the casual confidence. This was a vampire in the fullness of his power, experience and cunning, dependent on no one for his survival. The predator scanning the herd for prey, not the scavenger looking for leftovers.
The chip had to be out. Angel was surprised at the intensity of dread he felt. Angelus, once freed from his confinement, had been a mad, ravening monster. What revenge might Spike be plotting against the humans that had neutered him. Angel had to act quickly, if nothing else but to spare the people who would be Spike's meals.
He hesitated, though. It wasn't from any twisted remnant of family feeling. Drusilla and Darla and a pool of gasoline could tell you how little that mattered if he decided it was time for a descendant to die.
Art appreciation stopped him. It had been a long time since Angel could observe Spike just being Spike without the whole history of hatred, betrayal, challenge and soul getting in the way.
Spike was a good leader, when he cared to make the effort. He had the charisma to attract followers and the strength to keep them. He inspired loyalty, too, from the way that underling, Sammy, kept one eye on him, ready to jump whichever way Spike said. Vampires, like wolves, functioned best with a clearly defined hierarchy. Spike was obviously at the top of this pecking order.
The dread Angel felt at what unchipped Spike might do was real. But so was the pride, no matter how much Angel wanted to deny it. Obnoxious, maddening, infuriating idiot he might be, but he was of Angel's line. Deny it, fight it, interfere with it as he might, his "children's" twisted talents always brought a secret, shameful rush of gratification. That was why he wanted to destroy them so much, because they were so good at what they did.
With Spike there was the added pride in his survival. The Initiative cut him open, made him their lab rat, but he never stopped fighting. To be honest, Angel half wanted Spike to find the Initiative. It might be just a little fun to watch those mad scientists get a taste of their own medicine.
In the garage, Spike gathered up his groceries and headed for an inner door. With a word and a nod, he sent Sammy to close the garage door. Angel knew he should rush in, use the surprise to remove spike before the job got harder. The safety of the world and his own soul's urgings said this was what needed to be done. But a balls-out frontal assault was such a Spikean thing to do. Might work, might get his face kicked in. He had no idea how many underlings Spike had at his command or of the layout of the building. Spike would keep, and Angel would just have to accept the guilt for the people who died to keep Spike alive.
There are some excellent drabbles being produced this week...
Would someone mind doing a machete beta on my Werewolf!Angel fic posted upthread? I'd like to make sure it's in good shape before I send it to BFA, Glass Onion, etc.
Thanks ever so.
