Man, I am dying to see what she gets out of him. And of course, now I'm envisioning guys in some Knox-like science division of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, building Ken Lay and....

Thanks. But I think the Munchkin's angst is going to take things over for a bit, first.

This week's Open on Sunday theme is "punishment".

"Do You Want to be Punished?"

The English countryside is verdant, rolling hills of green. There's soft life everywhere, trees, bluebells, lupine and campion. Even the clouds are gentle.

The interior of Willow's head is not quite so gentle.

She understands what she's done: murder, the oldest taboo. It makes no difference that the man she killed was himself a murderer. It makes no difference that he took from her what she most loved. The bare fact, the act committed, takes up her entire mind.

Rupert asked if she wanted to be punished. She goes to him, her hands folded, and accepts the punishment he offers.

"The Fledgling" part 36 Homicide/Angel

MUNCH

So, it occurs to me, right in the middle of tracking the biggest conspiracy of my life and fantasizing about Kay’s enhanced cleavage, I want to go home. Yes, that’s right, even through the two-great tastes-that-taste-great togetherness of it(see how insidious advertising is? Even dead people quote it. I weep for my nation.)
I miss cloudy skies and cold nights. And cobblestones. Whoever thought I would care about cobblestones? Buildings built before last Thursday. Places where every third person isn’t blonde. And my old apartment was already pretty dark, I have no need of a fancy lair. It’s just not my scene, the consort bit.
The Princess feels I’ve withdrawn from her, and is trying to drown her sorrows again. This time with some gardener from Belize with a great...hose, who doesn’t even speak English. I didn’t expect to be irreplaceable, but that is just insulting. I’m not going to stick around for that. And I know she’s nursing two grand passions. One for Angelus and one for Counselor Herrenvolk. No matter what I do, I can’t compete with that.

L.A. can never be my town. People smile too much here and too many women have silicone or saline in strange places. But I know what you want to know. Do I miss humanity? Yes, and no. But Balmer is easier to get to. There is a prophecy somewhere that says some vampire is gonna get a do-over on the whole homo sapien trip, but I know I’m not that guy. He’s a hero...I’m the guy who breaks into bookstores to impress a woman that I haven’t the guts to make prey...you know what I’m saying, babe?
It took forever to even begin to sort it out, my concentration’s gotten so rusty. But I’ve got nothing but time to read these days. And I don’t exactly have a flair for languages, since I kept getting kicked out of Hebrew school for being a smartass. But I will not have Kay thinking Wesley is smarter than me. If she ever asks about that stupid “shanshu” thing, I want to have the answer ready for her. She’ll really love...that.

What kind of stupid name is “shanshu” anyway? It sounds like a waterpark attraction or something. Something kids come to the zoo to feed...not a great transformation.Eh, who needs it? I haven’t been through all this to tap-dance to the tune of some prophecy. I’m not sure why, really, but what? I need a reason now? Why should my unlife be any different than the sad shambles of my life?

It bothers me to think of leaving Drusilla. It surprises me how much. But she’s a job by herself. She talks too much and I’d be afraid to leave her in my place by herself because she’d set the place on fire or something. Maybe I should just cut out some afternoon, early, before she wakes up. Because she could get around me with those big green eyes...I know she could, even though you’d hardly expect a monster to be so schmaltzy, right?

Excellent Munch angst. I love that he wants to get back to Bawlmer - the homesick vampire detective is a perfect fit..

My second punishment-theme drabble. Why yes, I am in a dark mood today.

Resurrection

"Do you trust me?"

She lays spreadeagled, her eyes open just enough for her to be able to watch him. He's a shock-haired slash against the shadows of his own crypt, slowly pulling off leather. He's rampantly erect; his own eyes are lasers in the dark. She sees his face, wanting to ridge and furrow.

"Do you trust me?"

The manacles on her wrists and ankles are the real thing. Not even slayer strength is getting her out of these. Truth is, she isn't trying.

The only thing she trusts Spike for is to punish her for being alive again.

If there is anyplace less Munchlike than LA, I can't imagine it. Texas, maybe. Thanks, though, although it's scary how close to the surface that always is...that Munch thing. Almost eerie. Know what I'm saying, babe? Can't help feeling I skipped a step, someplace. Very tempted by "Punishment" not sure if I should do it.

I tell you what, love, it really suits my mood today.

Hell, so far? It's the only thing that suits my mood today.

I don't know anything about that. That's why my Munch is so good...cause I'm such a sunbeam.
I'm trying to quit The Fic, but "just when I think I'm out something pulls me back in". And the more I think I should quit, the more bunnies I get.
Homicide drabble on Punishment:

Tim wants Risley Tucker to pay. He knows he is an unlikely instrument of justice, but he hopes that the arabber will be haunted by the intensity of his eyes. He enjoys handling the old man roughly, knowing that no matter what Bayliss does it’s still a fairer fight than Adena faced. Sometimes at night, Tim has helpless dreams, where he wakes up gasping, certain a serrated knife is waiting for his own midsection. He should pay for that too, for helping to create a world where neither an expert marksman nor the Angel of Baltimore can be safe.

And because I'm trying to save fic for weekends, and left sj hanging, "People V. Angelus" L&O style. crossover BTVS/L&O (I did the Calendar case as a "Homicide" last year. I'm still too proud of it.) First half of the post is Law(cops) second Order(legal eagles)Except in Sunny D. instead of the Big Apple.

“I sent him out to prevent a felony.”

”What’s a Watcher, Miss Chase?”

She sighed, looked bored, tossed her hair, all of teendom’s greatest hits that Lenny remembered from when the girls were young. He deserved it a lot more then, though he hated to think about it. “You didn’t hear about it from me.”

“We’ll pinkyswear on it, Miss Chase.”

“Cordelia. My mom’s Ms. Chase.. The Scoobies are gonna hate me for this.”
“Cordelia, a teacher’s dead. That’s more important than what your friends think.”

“They’re not my friends. But I did promise. You ever promise somebody something, even though you didn’t really like them?”

“I’m a cop,” Lenny said. “That’s what we do. Along with eating donuts and closing out bars with “Danny Boy”
After Cordelia told her story, Lenny felt even more confused. It just didn’t wash. A five-foot-nothing cheerleader wanna-be who inherited an ancient destiny that allowed her to save the world multiple times by the time she was sixteen. With the help of an undercover demonology expert. Uh huh, sure, makes as much sense as those pink elephants you used to see on Saturday nights, he thought.
It made him depressed, but if Buffy had been trained to be a dealing or killing machine by the time she was sixteen....or a drunk like him, it would have made more sense. The streets, jails, and living rooms were full of those, all over America. God, Briscoe, you’re getting old, if fighting the good fight makes you suspicious. But he’d fought a lot of good fights and lost. And thanks to sobriety, he could remember them all. Ain’t clean living grand?

A few weeks later: Angelus had been apprehended, at great manpower costs to SPD.

Several of those officers might never make it off permanent disability.Jack McCoy hated to think about that. If it was war the vampire wanted, it would be war that he would have. Within limits, maybe just within, but within. Schiff was already talking deal, but Jack thought Angelus should sweat this one. Let him cool his heels wearing a face mask and drinking pigs’ blood at county for a while. He did break a popular teacher’s neck, allegedly, he reminded himself.

Claire looked tense, and just not like her normal self as she read the latest paperwork. “Whoa,” she said.

“Good morning to you, too. What’s up?”

“You’re not gonna like it. Motion to dismiss People V. Angelus.”

“You can’t be serious. On what grounds?”

“His lawyer says because the jury pool is human, Angelus will not be tried by his peers.”

“That’s just ridiculous. What sort of wet-behind-the ears, Legal Aid trick is that?”

“Look, I didn’t write the motion, just read it. And I wish we could dismiss this as a beginner thing, but we can’t. He’s got Lindsey McDonald, Jack. If anyone could sell this trumped-up civil liberties defense, he could.”

“I’ve faced talented lawyers before, believe it or not. Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.”

“You know what I mean. McDonald’s not just good, he’s creepy good. I saw him at a conference and he left the other guy a gibbering idiot.”

“Why don’t you get excited by me like that?”

“No. I mean literally. He didn’t speak for six weeks. Now is not the time to get all Irish and poetic, Jack.”

MEEEEP!

Lyndsey as Angelus' lawyer?! I'd forgot that possibility.

Dear lord, do I love my internet wife. erika? You rock like a rockin' thing, woman.