"I haven't ruled out the possibility."

Guh. I can hear him say it. Wibble-making.

"Wes, I wasn't old enough to drink last time you saw me." Nice to pass the wincing to someone else for a second.

Looks like Xander isn't the only one who paid attention to D'Hoffryn. Then again, Buffy has always had a talent for finding weak spots.

Congratulations to Herself, who won the Halo Award for Best Drama - Buffy for What She Deserves (tied with Kalima, which is rather fitting, I think).

[link]

"where the devil did she learn that?", "or that?", and "how quickly can we get into the building?".

Nice. And you kept the pun! I'm so pleased. Heck, I like the whole handcuffs thing.

Sunday's a slow day at work. I knocked out a few paragraphs.

Giles wasn't wearing the usual padding as he and Buffy sparred in the training room behind the Magic Box, but neither was worried. He neatly dodged most of her blows, and he shook off the ones that landed with no more than a passing wince. Buffy noticed he moved faster without the padding, makng her move faster as well. It was good to face her mentor as an equal.

His eyes were colder and more focused without the glasses, and he managed to hold a conversation as they worked. "You and Dawn should get out of town, get as far away as you can. Glory won't wait."

"I can't leave Mom."

"Well, you can't take her with you, she'd only slow you down. Willow and the others would look after her."

She ducked away from his kick. "Not leaving her." She nearly swept his feet out from under him, but he dodged at the last moment.

"And what will you do if Glory's next move is against Joyce? You said you were prepared to sacrifice the others. Are you prepared to sacrifice your mother?"

Buffy stepped out of the fight and lowered her hands. "Glory could do that anyway, grab Mom. Grab anyone to try and get me to bring Dawn back. And I couldn't do that, Giles. She's my baby sister, I got to hold her when Mom and Dad brought her home from the hospital, I got to take care of her. We'd play with each other's hair, and I helped her get back at Sally Ann Consecko, who was mean to her in the third grade--"

Giles moved closer. "And you know it never happened. The memories might seem real, but they never happened. You can't lose yourself in worry and memories now, you need to make plans. What will you do if Glory moves against Joyce in an effort to get to Dawn? Will you trade your sister for your mother or your mother for your sister?"

"I could--send Mom away, send her someplace where they could take care of her but is too far away for Glory to worry about. If we scatter she won't have time to use everybody against me."

"Very good," Giles nodded. He moved around the room picking up discarded weapons. "I know it's difficult to think of these things, but once one has a plan one knows how to react in any circumstance. You can't hesitate."

Then he was behind her, with an arm around her throat and her hands pinned. "Your enemies won't," he snarled. Fangs drove into her throat as she screamed.

Buffy woke, and her hand was checking her neck even as her mind said "Dream."

The clock said nearly five. The sky outside was grey fading to pink. Slayer Happy Hour, the vampires would be scampering for cover and the demons would be retreating into their lairs to avoid being spotted by the innocent humans who felt safe in daylight. Might as well just get up.

Her mind was more on her dream than on morning routines. It wasn't bizarre enough to be a true prophetic dream. No shadows of the First Slayer with her bones and war paint, no guys with cheese. Just her fears finding words and images.

She was going to have to choose. This thing was going to end in blood one way or another, and she'd better have her acceptable losses laid out.

As she got dressed, she found Mr Pointy and carried it downstairs with her. Her job description was to save the world, but her job title said Vampires first. Her dream had shown her the dangers of forgetting about vampires. She was pretty sure the Slayer's Handbook had a few words to say about calling on the aid of one vampire to go save the butt of another vampire. Stupid Handbook, just as well she never got one. Like that TV show from when she was a kid, about the guy who received a superhero suit from a bunch of aliens who forgot to give him the manual that went along with it. Maybe that show was on cable somewhere, she could relate to that about now.

Then he was behind her, with an arm around her throat and her hands pinned. "Your enemies won't," he snarled. Fangs drove into her throat as she screamed.
Buffy woke, and her hand was checking her neck even as her mind said "Dream."

BITCH!!!!!

This thing was going to end in blood one way or another, and she'd better have her acceptable losses laid out.

This, to me, sums up the genius of the show. Most heros? They don't have to worry about collateral damage. Buffy and Batman and Spiderman.

I wonder what would have happened if Joyce were alive in show... I wonder what would happen if Buffy's choice was between Dawn and Joyce. When the time comes, she won't choose you.

Interesting...

BITCH!!!!!

Well, of course I am, check the thread title! Gosh, that gives me such a warm fuzzy.

her hand was checking her neck even as her mind said "Dream."

I second Elena's BITCH!!!

And add a BITCA of my own.

Good stuff, connie, keep it coming.

Aren't you lucky? 375 words as my final count tonight, which isn't enough to put in the LJ, but is just enough to share here! (Shh. Pretend you feel lucky. Punks.)

-----------------------------

She did something with the tip of her tongue and the inside of his lips that managed to stem thoughts of Lilah and one-upmanship completely, allowing for a flood of thoughts closer to "where the devil did she learn that?", "or that?", and "how quickly can we get into the building?".

He broke contact and started fumbling for his keys, which were, unfortunately, in the front pocket of his jeans. Getting them out would require digging, finesse, and perhaps a moment spent thinking of something unpleasant--John Major in a leotard might do, though not if he didn't first close his eyes and move about ten paces aware from the source of the stimulation.

"This is even more public, isn't it?" she finally said when they'd both caught their breath. "Inside? Now?"

It didn't matter that he knew she was talking about the building; the words themselves were enough to make it so that John Major could have been buggering Prince Philip to the tune of "Mandy" and it wouldn't have made a dent in his arousal. He extracted the keys with some difficulty.

"Yes, that seems like a good idea."

He took care not to touch her as they made their way through the halls to his flat lest he find himself unable to stop; it came as something of a surprise to note that he still had something that bore some resemblance to a sense of shame, however small. It was an oddly cheering realization.

That they made it to the couch with their clothing intact was nothing short of a miracle, though not of the sort that would qualify either of them for sainthood. Buffy attacked him like a starving man would attack a feast, her hands and mouth everywhere, and he was quite content to be devoured.

The slits in her skirt were as convenient as she had indicated; he slid his hands through them to caress the bare skin of her legs as she worked her hands back under his shirt. His fingertips skimmed over the smooth lines of muscle on her thighs, working their way slowly upward until they hit the jut of her pelvis.

"I know we've covered your inappropriate fighting attire, but do you often go patrolling in a skirt..." He brushed a thumb lightly over the soft curls he'd discovered. "...with nothing underneath?"

She arched against his touch before responding. "More often than is good for me."

He kissed her, then withdrew his hand despite her whimper of protest. "I believe you said something earlier about handcuffs?"

(and then, I managed to write more.)

"Mmm-hmm. And you said something about padded ones?"

"I did. They're in the bedroom." Which was where he was wishing very much to be as her fingers worked at his belt buckle.

"Is it far?"

"Thankfully, no." She'd managed to undo his belt buckle, and was fiddling with the top button of his pants.

"Good. I guess this means I should get off of you now, doesn't it?"

"Essentially, yes." His zipper gave way under her insistent fingers. "Unless you'd rather stay on the couch?"

She withdrew her hands, and it was his turn to let out a wordless protest. "Somehow, I get the feeling the bed would be more comfortable. Besides, I'd kind of like to break the habit of missing them." Buffy slid off him and onto her feet in a fluid motion that would have been impossible for almost anyone else, even without the handicap of high heels. "Do you trust me?"

"Why?"

"Because I'd like to be the one doing the cuffing."

"It's an interesting proposition." Wesley stood and beckoned towards the hallway. "The last time a Slayer had me tied up, she tortured me to within an inch of my life." Buffy flinched a little at the mention of Faith and he smiled before continuing. "I'd like to see you do better."

Good stuff, Ple. Took me a moment to work out it was Wesley and Buffy- but that's just me being stupid. It says PMM at the top.

John Major is in a whole new light after Edwina Curry's revalations, but I guess Wesley might not know that. However, for the Brits you might consider using someone else (or not. Could be funnier as is).

I like the way you tell us what he's going to say before he says it.

"I know we've covered your inappropriate fighting attire, but do you often go patrolling in a skirt..." He brushed a thumb lightly over the soft curls he'd discovered. "...with nothing underneath?"

Grin!