erika, this is beginning to really smoke. Stuff building. He's doing the dirty on W&H?

Whoooooeeeeee.

He *wants* to. He also wanted to be Abbie Hoffman, once. And he did say "Till death do us part," three separate times, so I'm not sure wanting= getting.But they made a critical mistake, going after one of "his" people.

Yep. I'm seeing Munch layers here that make me extremely happy. I also like the odd tender streak Kay seems to be developing for Cordy.

Sunday drabble. The theme is food.

The Blood is the Life

“What are those?”

Buffy stared out at the grazing mules. It was cool, early evening, in the Sonoran desert. The mules seemed unaware of the small black objects greedily sucking blood from wounds on the mules’ legs.

“Desmodus rotundus.” Giles’ face was unreadable. “The common vampire bat. Has a natural anesthetic in their saliva; their prey doesn’t know it’s being drained.”

“Damn.” Buffy suddenly pictured Angel, Spike, their faces ridged with need, their eyes golden, unnatural incisors finding warm flesh. “I keep forgetting that blood can be food.”

“Well.” Giles turned back to the car. “Back to town for dinner?”

Even though they still drive each other crazy. Like all the people...well, the originals anyway, on the Homicide squad...they love each other, in many cases, even when they don't like each other. Beau and Kay do that.Munch and Stan definitely do that, and that is Frankentim in a nutshell. I like to mess around with Munchkin's softer side...um, insert obligatory phallic reference here, and yet I think it's important to hide it too. Don't like Woobie!Munchkin who can be saved by the power of true love...it gets on my nerves so much that I don't leave much feedback on Munchfic any more because it makes me want to rant like him.Although some of them are SVU fans that have never watched H:LOTS and yet have inexplicably fallen for Pod!Munchkin...MunchkinLite, 98% smut free. So I try to be kind to the afflicted.

And because, let's face it, I pretend to originality, but basically just follow Deb around going "Me too!"...here's what "blood" made me think of. I've no idea why this moment fascinates me so...maybe the wiseass struck speechless?

He still can’t say the word "blood". He, who walks in it, works in it, waits for results and tests of it, and dreads it sometimes, in intimate moments(some of his women being most fearsome on their periods...the dark side of their passion, he reminds himself) He can’t force that simple syllable past his lips. He can’t face it. Next week, he’ll buy another pair of shoes. He looks at the spot...that spot, and can’t believe that so much of his world could be in something so small. He thought it would look different than the others, but it doesn’t.

My drabbles are always Munch or Kay. Maybe cause a Frank or Tim thought is, guaranteed gonna take more than 100 words?

He looks at the spot...that spot, and can’t believe that so much of his world could be in something so small.

Jeepers.

In that whole episode, he doesn't say blood once...and then that shoe thing which would make me well up right here if I quote it again, so I won't...and then that next day he's there with Mitch "The Amazing Partner" and he finds a spot on the wall or somewhere and says "That's Stanley's blood." Mitch doesn't get it. He says "Blood is blood." And I think I'm obsessed with those episodes andI don't know why...they don't have the porn like "Many Splendored Thing" but is this the second or third post-shooting Munch thing? I don't like rewatching them cause they tear me up, but here I am again. And I'm going to be a threadhog cause the blood drabble turned into an event. They're at [link] Tell me they're boring so I don't write the whole squad.(/ambivalence)

That's why I said "jeepers". It blew me away.

Second food/feeding drabble. This one has a tip of the hat to Roz Kaveney.

I Dreamed of Africa

She moves through the Kalahari, the early mist the only moisture the desert will see this day.

Soon the sun will rise, the hunted will be in places she can't follow. She holds her spear, the hide of a pangolin wrapped round the hilt. A lizard, motionless beneath a plant, rolls its tongue at her, scenting food on the air.

She is First Slayer. Her birthright is instinct; her power is understanding that she must destroy that which would feed on her.

At her back, the sun sends out red streaks. Daylight soon.

She returns to her bed of bones.