Tim sounds frighteningly like my father in that last bit. I'm not sure I like that... very true to life, though.

That is a little frightening, Deena. I promise I don't think dirty stuff about your dad, though.

Erika, 10 years ago, just about every woman who met him thought things about him. He is a very handsome man, even now at almost 70. He's got certain Tim sensibilities, too. Huh.

Deena, do you want me to go to Electra Complex Special Hell? Cause it's bad enough I have a guilty fascination with Buffy/Giles and I look forward to Bayliss' torment whenever I can see it. Mixing those things disturbs even me,

Well, it wasn’t Miss Scarlet in the conservatory, babe. In the interests of national security, people have ‘accidents’ sometimes

(drumming heels on floor, moaning with laughter)

Just erase it from your brain, Erika. It never happened.

Deb, I laughed like a loon at that. So funny!

Who did it, Erika, who did it?!

"People like cake" -- so true, so very true.

It's ok...around here I'll find company in whichever special hell. And I spent plenty of time last night mocking the afflicted, so I'm doomed anyway. Your dad's gonna love having an invisible fan, though. Deb, that would totally be what Munch would think. Glad you like it though. Hmm, right now, it's a stone whodunnit.(translation: I don't know Yet.) As opposed to a dunker, wherein somebody shows up dripping with whatever and says something vaguely incriminating like "I did it. And I'd do it again. Bitch."(Yes, there are people that dumb. "Crime makes you stupid.") Too Much Candy might just reveal everything.

“Kay, I don’t believe it.”Munch said, being excitable more than hip, which put Kay's guard up. Kay Howard sat, steeling herself for a shock.

“Really? How bad? Money? Sex? Ecstasy? Sexual slavery?"

“No, Kay. I actually talked to a happily married person. Somebody who enjoyed his wife. I’d heard it could happen, but I thought it was a myth like nirvana. Or perfect democracy. The vaginal orgasm, even.”

“OK, I get it. Unbelievable. Is that it?”

“You’re testy today.” When she didn’t answer, his expression softened. “Tough one. Am I right? And though it does my twisted spirit some good to have met a unicorn among men, your clearance rate will not be helped by the news that Nic Grabien would not murder his wife.”

“John, I don’t care about my clearance rate, ok?”

“Who are you and what have you done with Kay Howard?”

“Ok, I care, but it’s not the most important, huh? This is giving me Chilton flashbacks. Too close for comfort. What about the lunatics in the asylum?”

“One of them told me I made her “wibble”. What’s a ‘wibble’ Kay?”

“I think...this is embarrassing, but she could be hot for you. That’s mostly what this stuff means. Except for AIFG.”

“And that is?”

“Fucking great.”

“I didn’t ask for an editorial...”

“No, genius. ‘I’m working a redball right now, and it’s fucking great. Except it sucks.” Kay clicked through the FAQ. “She invented “foamy’....these people talk about sex more than you.”

“Maybe I need to rethink this internet thing.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Guess you had to be there.”

“ But no, no Buffista grudges. And the tip about the plural marriage...some gag. The wives are scattered all over.”

“She’s a writer. Maybe she made an enemy.” “Finally, she sees reason...did I not tell you?” Munch paced the hotel room.

I am pleased with my willowficathon entry. It's unbeta'ed, so please let me know if you see any glaring continuity/grammar errors.

Light Years to Go, Willow & Xander, post-"Not Fade Away."