Of Incubi and Inversion

08/10/2011

Nights like this are the worst. Quiet nights, nights where he can hear himself think, loud and clear. Nights where the sandman requires hefty bribes in the form of beer or whisky (or both) before Xander can drift into an uneasy state of something kind of like sleep, but without the restful part.


Mutating Paradigms and Other Shifts in Reality

08/10/2011

Okay. Ground rules. Thinking about Giles the way you’d think about Angel or Spike or Riley, or even Parker, was wrong. Giles was not allowed to be attractive.


Leaving Terra

08/10/2011

She’s there for a good minute and a half before he notices her. She’s tempted to break the moment, to make some joke about the necklace he’s holding, how between its scrubbing bubbles and the slicing dicing scythe, their weapons should have their own infomercials. Instead she just stands there until he looks up.


Last Rites

08/10/2011

Things used to be simple. Black and white. Good and Evil. G-d and Country. Boys and Girls.


Imposters in This Country

08/10/2011

Buffy swallowed a sigh and turned around. The guy was tall, a bit on the skinny side, with overly-pomaded dark hair, glasses, and a suit so stuffy it could only mean one thing: new Watcher.

“Do you guys all come factory-equipped with tweed? Tell the Council they can bite me. I’m through.”


Ice

08/10/2011

Faith thinks they seem almost too thin to be legal, like she’s fucking a school girl, but that’s B, all skin and bone and self-righteous attitude.


Heads or Tails

08/10/2011

“Heads, you sleep in the motel room; tails, you sleep on the bus.”


Coastal

08/10/2011

Faith’s voice breaks into Buffy’s solitary contemplation of the sunset. The three months since the closing of the hellmouth have reduced their numbers as most of the girls, slayers now, have gone off, either home to their parents or to find their own way, but solitude is still in short supply.


Benefits

08/10/2011

“I believe this is what they call a Mexican standoff.” Xander glared at Spike. Spike glared right back.


Bedtime Story

08/10/2011

“Tell me a story.”

“Dawnie, you’re too old for stories.” Still, Buffy sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh.