Jeez, Deb, potatoes up your nose?! Well, I just knew that that "Are you Somebody?" thing would send the Munchkin on one of his riffs.

Jeez, Deb, potatoes up your nose?!

Yup. Literally. I was eating steak, had just swallowed a bite, forked up some garlic mashed, read that line, got the vision in my head of a valley girl in a tube top and Carlos Santana club shoes trying to pet the three headed hellhound, and Munch going "Actually, I'm more of a cat person", and WHAMMO! Right up the nose with the spuds.

Well, that is flattering...more Munchkin.

“Right. Well, make sure.” My face changes and they squeal like the road company for Deliverance. California doesn’t even make a decent yo...some of the cornerboys at home would look into my yellow eyes without flinching. I catch the smallest one and drain him, even as my angst demands a poetic lack of appetite. The demon doesn’t allow me to do that. I think it is still mad at me for not turning You Know Who.
She’d have made a fantastic vampire...she’s already good at catching what she hunts for. And I bet she looks amazing in black. But she would have to die, and that, if I could quote you, would really suck.I wipe my mouth and hands, feed Cujo some yo scraps in aid of bonding and walk to the newsstand and steal some of yesterday’s newspapers.
This brain is more than a porno theater you know....it’s also a finely tuned instrument. I take Devil Dog back to Wolfram and Hart, where, incredibly, Lilah still sits, with the lights on. Her stamina must be phenomenal. But the closest I’ll ever get is when the cerberus tries to hump her leg. Lucky bastard.

I can sense whether than see that the sun is high in the sky, from mine and the Princess’ bedroom/cave by the time I put aside my craft project...threatening letters. Really hokey. “Prepare to Die” cut out in newsprint. I have to make sure Wes sees them first. Kay wouldn’t pay attention to melodramatic shit like that. But Wesley’s been waiting for this moment since junior librarian school. And believe me, I know how intoxicating being Kay’s hero can be. All the more because she doesn’t want one. I know that this works better anonymously, but I stole a Baltimore Sun, too, and I can’t resist clipping from the Waterfront newspaper ad...I need her to know it was me. God bless Meldrick and his attention-seeking overwhelming Bayliss’ financially provident nature.
I could kiss him.(He’s done worse) Of course, then we have the problem of recasting a threatening note as a loving gesture, but one problem at a time. I sleep easily that morning. For once....I mean, without the Princess or Dru to...help me pass the time.

I wipe my mouth and hands, feed Cujo some yo scraps in aid of bonding and walk to the newsstand and steal some of yesterday’s newspapers.

omiGAWD.

I can sense whether than see

Should that be "rather than see"?

I could kiss him.(He’s done worse)

Hee! Then again, so has Bayliss. I'm lovin' this, Erika!

I sleep easily that morning. For once....I mean, without the Princess or Dru to...help me pass the time.

Oh my!

Erika, so much fun! Keep going baby.

Why'd I write "whether"...possibly trying to decide between two thoughts? Calli, thanks. I wrote it that way cause there's a scene in Homicide: A Year on The Killing Streets...(otherwise known as The Book to many scary Homicide fans, who have a frightening "In the Beginning was the word" kind of relationship therewith...almost "my precious", huh?) Well, there's a scene where an old-timer's getting ready to leave after a bunch of years. And his younger partner says "You know what I'll always remember about you?"

And the older guy says no telling.

"When it was our first time, you were real gentle, Don. A lot of guys would have just taken what they wanted, but not you. I'll never forget you for that."

The older guy, if memory serves, the main inspiration for Stanley, not to be outdone, says "You made it easy. You didn't scream."
Which is Homicide talk for "I learned a lot from you. Thanks." And "You're welcome." But they get the Hoyay...your partner is your bunky or your bunk. Which is why posts about Ff make me blink sometimes. And I do think AYOTKS kicks all kinds of ass, just not enough to be The Book. Thanks, everyone. David Simon likes long, gritty carrots.

Connie - bring on the pain. Poor confused Angel.

KAY

One morning I’m a little slow getting started.(Ok, so I had that dream about Pierce Brosnan and the giant flat of strawberries. Arrest me.) Anyway, Wesley’s ready ahead of me, which almost never happens. He’s looking somber, which almost always happens. Cordy’s poking all the donuts, looking for the one she likes, which, any given day? 50/50 shot. “Would you mind not fondling all of those? Other people might want some, too.”

“Are you sure?” Cordy says. “Women your age have problems metabolizing carbs.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got old age and treachery on my side...which, speaking of, give me a dime.”

“A dime?”

“Yeah, one of those little flat things that weigh down your purse.”

“ I don’t know why. You and Gunn just keep putting money in the curse jar anyway.” But she hands me the coin. She might be all right after all, in spite of herself.

“Why didn’t you tell anybody about this?” Wesley says, waving some little bit of paper around. Oh, crap, I think, but don’t say, he’s found one.

“It’s no big deal,” I say. “Just a kind of tribute thing. Tommy did it to me...before he uh... did it to me.Stan did it to the Munchkin. Ten years in, I get dimes, huh?”

“Not that. This.” He really wants me to look at this bullshit. Sighing, I give in.Kind of like me and Pierce.

‘Prepare to Die’ I read, “Junk mail’s getting really obnoxious nowadays.”

“ You could be in very grave danger.” Wesley says.

“Yeah, I could get shot or something....no, wait, that happened already. It’s all right, Wesley, the kind of twitch that does stuff like this does it because he can’t do anything else.They’re like...impotent. I’m safe as houses, huh?”

“I’d feel better if you stayed somewhere else for the time being, all right? Go home with Cordelia tonight.”

“No!” Cordy says, then she sees my look and says “ I’m sure Detective Howard can handle herself."

(Ok, so I had that dream about Pierce Brosnan and the giant flat of strawberries. Arrest me.)

wibble...

The dime thing is ringing a bell, but I can't quite remember the context. 'Splain, please?

It’s all right, Wesley, the kind of twitch that does stuff like this does it because he can’t do anything else.They’re like...impotent.

Heh. Makes me wish that Munch was eavesdropping.