Battlekitten's Font of Nothing

fluffybkitty — Thu, 14 May 2026 23:01:00 GMT

It hit him straight out of the blue.

No one had told him she was even sick! The last time he’d seen her . . . it had been, what? A year ago? Eighteen months at most, and she’d been thriving. She’d looked great. She’d said the gallery was making more money than she’d ever thought it could – because galleries didn’t make money very often, right? But hers was, and he was pleased for her. Despite all of their arguments, all twenty million of them, they had parted ways amicably in the end for the sake of the children.

He’d kept in touch with them both too, with Buffy and, um, Dawn. Regular phone calls three times a week and fortnightly visits until Buffy said she was too busy with her social life for them.

Why hadn’t he still visited Dawn? He honestly couldn’t remember. There had been that big compound settlement with Oristica two years ago. Had that been why?

Whatever the reason he felt gutted. Neither of his children had even bothered to tell him their mom was so sick she could die at any minute. Like he didn’t have a right to know!?

He still loved her for being the mother of his children. Still loved her for being an amazing individual. Maybe they had just got married too soon – straight out of college.

He would never know now. Why hadn’t anyone told him she was sick?

NaNot.

fluffybkitty — Mon, 29 Nov 2021 21:22:48 GMT

Well I tried, but November has turned out to be a bad month for writing. The first two weeks were hampered by a double workload after a colleague nearly had 2 fingers bitten off by a parcel-hungry dog. The second two were derailed by a family-sized dose of covid-19. Mild for us all, thank God, but despite the extra time on my hands the combination of isolation and home-schooling didn’t work out for me.

I did manage just under 10000 words in the middle of all that; giving me a nice new chunk of HotSS episode 11 to do nothing with.

NaNoWriMo 2021

fluffybkitty — Wed, 03 Nov 2021 07:33:29 GMT

It's been a slow start for me this year. Not really surprising as I feel like I've been having a slow five years full stop with the writing.

I am determined this year to get to the end though, so let's see how it goes.

416/50000

Happy new year!

fluffybkitty — Sat, 02 Jan 2021 18:59:00 GMT

Well I did a resolution thing that I was going to post at least a sentence here every day, but I already failed that lol.

What have I done?

fluffybkitty — Sun, 03 May 2020 08:20:24 GMT

Well, I'll tell you . . . I've just signed up for WIPBigBang (link to follow). It's a totally nuts thing to do when I don't seem to be able to string a single fictional sentence together. I don't know, maybe it's Isolation Stagnation Syndrome or the liquid iron finally kicking in again but I just . . . need . . . to finish . . . something.

So, my chosen torture is the next episode of House of the Setting Sun. I'm about 10000 words in but I'm stuck in a awful pattern of deciding it's ALL JUST WRONG and starting all over again and I've been stuck in this cycle since 2015!

So, this is different.

fluffybkitty — Fri, 20 Mar 2020 16:55:26 GMT

The schools have closed now until further notice so we will be home-schooling a ten year old and home-nursery-ing a 3 year old for the foreseeable future.

We shall indeed be living in interesting times.

We are MAKING PLANS.

I'm making a quiet study area up in the boy's bedroom and Ally is turning the dining room into a learning-y playroom.

We shall see how this goes.

Urgent help needed!

fluffybkitty — Wed, 05 Jun 2019 23:41:21 GMT

I just dropped a picture frame of me and the boy into a beer! A lot of beer. It's probably safe to assume that I actually tipped a can of beer over said picture frame. Accidentally, obviously.

If anyone can advise me how to save the photo at least I will be eternally grateful (quietly, from afar, but still very, very grateful).

It's also messing up my keyboard :(

NaNo update.

fluffybkitty — Thu, 08 Nov 2018 08:35:54 GMT

Oh so far this is not going well.

It's that time of year again.

fluffybkitty — Thu, 01 Nov 2018 09:14:26 GMT

Time to get NaNoWriMo'ing. I think I've got at least... oh, 8000 words in me this year.

I have a rare, spare thirty minutes before I have to be anywhere and LouLouBean is sitting happily on the sofa watching some kid on the telly learn how to eat ice cream (or it might be mashed potato) with a spoon. This could keep her occupied for hours or just a minute so time to get writing.

Fic: Opposites Attract (Faith/Buffybot)

fluffybkitty — Mon, 21 May 2018 18:06:03 GMT

Wrote this for the last Faith round over at femslash_minis

Title: Opposites Attract.
Pairing: Faith/Buffybot
Word count: 2300
Rating: Teen
Prompt: Slayer rivalries, kicking ass, personal style.
Written for: brutti_ma_buoni

Opposites Attract

Faith waited until she'd pulled up outside the warehouse before she felt up the Bot to find the ON switch. It was just easier on the ears that way, and her conscience, but damn she would never get used to how real this mechanical bitch's plastic skin felt!

She waited while the eyelids flickered a few times but as soon as those hazel eyes were focused front and center she said, “Yo, you good to go?”

She'd been too quick. There was a few seconds delay before the Buffybot replied, “Yes, Faith, I am good to go. How are you? How is your social ehabilitation going today?”

“Fine. Same as yesterday. Thanks for asking . . . again.” She was pretty sure she'd told Willow more than once to fix that glitch in the Bot's memory, but it still kept coming out of her mouth. “Get out of the truck. It's time to patrol.”

“I like patrolling.”

“I know.” It was the only reason she ever agreed to have the robot along with her. That and the fact that despite the updates on her murderous well-being she was the only person that didn't actually treat her like somebody to be suspicious of. “Giles says there's a nest here.”

“A nest of vampires? Goodie.”

“Goodie?” Faith laughed and tilted her head to see up the Bot's skirt as she shuffled forward on her ass to get out of the truck. Sue her, she'd always wondered what was up there. She didn't get her answer though, the stupid pleated pink skirt was in the way. “So we're looking at half a dozen vamps, maybe more. Think you can keep up?”

“Yes. I can regulate my pace with yours.”

“I meant once we get in there. Can you hold your own or will I have to carry you?”

“I have never slayed vampires while being carried before. Is that how you would like to slay the vampires tonight, Faith? If you need to carry me to be effective I am sure I will adapt.”

“No, I didn't mean . . .” They were at the double doors of the warehouse now and Faith shook her head. “Don't worry about it. On the count of three?”

“One. Two. Three.”

Faith had raised her leg, but the Buffybot was just counting for the fun of it, so she dropped her foot back down, feeling like an idiot. “You were supposed to kick on three!”

“Kick what?”

“The doors! You go one, two, three ki . . .”

The BuffyBot's heel connected with the lock and the warehouse doors swung open.

“There ya go,” Faith praised it, but they'd taken too long and every vampire nesting inside had come to the doors to defend their territory.

“Shit!” The sight of them put Faith on the back foot, her knuckles clenching white as she held her stake defensively up by her shoulder. That was a fuck-load of vampires staring back at them. There was no getting around it, this was going to be me-lee and they had to jump in while the critters were still wondering why two hot chicks had knocked at their door. The only way to keep any kind of advantage was to hit them hard and now and Faith's muscles bunched as she prepared to leap forward.

“Hello!” A bright voice from beside her intervened. “I'm Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, and I'm here to clean out your nest of evil, you scurfiest fiends.”

Faith did a double-take. “What the hell was that? Are you gonna go around the group shaking hands for your next trick? 'Cause there's like twenty Vamps here and I've got shit to do later.”

“There are twenty-three vampires,” The B-bot corrected her, making Faith throw her hands up in a whatever.

“Actually Walsa and Little Joey are in the back,” a helpful vampire told them. “So it's more like twenty-five.”

Another checked with his neighbour, “What does scurfiest mean again? I thought it was something to do with a lack of vitamin C.”

Faith didn't know either and they weren't going to find out yet because the introductions were done apparently and the B-bot had taken out three of the vampires before anyone, including Faith, had noticed. She was several feet into the dimly lit warehouse now and, if Faith was any judge, about to be surrounded.

She was holding her own though. Robot Buffy's style was methodical but effective. If the vampires stayed where she could see them, but this wasn't that kind of fight. There were too many of them. B-bot carried on like she didn't realize it and the vamps in front of her continued to disintegrate as she plunged her stake in, pulled it out, made a bad pun – she'd dusted so many already she'd had to start repeating them – and then moved automatically towards the next closest foe.

That could be a problem. There were so many foes crowding around her that trying to decide which one to go to next might be enough to fry her circuits.

It was probably a good time for her to step in, instead of hanging out by the door like an untipped pizza delivery chick. She waded into the throng with elbows and fists, taking the dicks totally focused on the B-bot by surprise. It didn't take them a minute to realize they had two attackers though and then she was as equally surrounded by the hissing, growling, fang-faced ass-holes.

Faith punched, kicked, shoved and a few times throttled the fiends before finishing them off with her stake and the whole time she could hear the reassuring sound of a shit quip and the whoosh of a vamp becoming dust in the background.

Soon enough there was visible space between the vampires and not long after that the biggest vamp she had ever seen ran towards them from the back of the room. He was fucking huge! For real, he made Kakistos look like a skinny midget!

“Little Joey, right?” she guessed with a grin that was more confident than she felt about going up against that.

“No, I'm Walsa. That's Little Joey.” The massive dude pointed behind him to a short vamp-faced kid and while she was still taking the information in he swung a ham-sized fist at her face.

Fucking-ow!

“Faith, you are on the ground! Are you still able to function?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” She was already getting back to her feet despite the ringing in her ears.

“You sound weak. Would you like me to stake your adversary for you?”

“No, and fuck you I'm not weak! I got this.”

“Are you sure? I do have a greater stake ratio to you on this mission.”

“Only 'cause you're a fucking robot!”

“She's a robot?” Walsa turned around in surprise to check the B-bot out. His curiosity was his downfall.

Faith ran a short burst, leapt high and used both hands to stab her stake into his back. She wasn't even sure if her modest chair leg would be enough to pierce all of the fat and muscle covering him, so she pushed and pushed it and twisted it for good measure and suddenly there was a loud whoop sound and Faith landed back on her feet. She coughed out the dust that she had sucked into the back of her throat and saw that she was missing two inches from the pointiest bit of her stake.

That pissed her off so bad that she yelled out and flung the useless chunk of wood at the closest approaching vampire face. It knocked his head back and gave her enough time to pull her knife from the holster on her belt and stab that into his heart.

“Faith, these are vampires. A dagger will not be effective in . . .” Fang-Ugly poofed into a million particles and the Buffybot said, “Oh.”

“Had the blade blessed with Holy water. Doesn't always work but it did this time.” Faith held her knife up again and called to the remaining vampires, “Anyone else up for a little Russian Roulette?”

The baby-faced Little Joey was apparently the smartest of the bunch and decided he wasn't. As he ran for the door she let him, even though she could have grabbed him and rung his little neck easily enough. That left three bloodsuckers up for a game and they all started advancing on them at once; with lots of nasty, drooling teeth on display.

Faith pulled her knife higher as she said, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

“Faith, a vampire has gotten away. We should give chase and slay it!”

“Or we could concentrate on the guys who stuck around for the party,” she said right before she leapt forwards and headbutted a vamp in the face. She knocked it onto his back and with a gleeful shout she spun around, whipping the tip of her knife across the throat of another. That one went down to its knees with both hands held to the deep gash. “Actually you can give chase if you want; I'm all over these fuckers!”

The Buffybot stared into space and Faith thought she'd caused a systems meltdown, but then she blinked and it turned out she'd just been thinking, uh, computing or whatever.. “But if you slay these three and I slay that one then you will exceed my total by two.”

Faith was having trouble with the last vamp standing. He was quick and wiry and punching above his weight with her and she was more intent on getting a clear shot at its chest than what the B-bot was saying. “What?”

“You have been keeping score and I do not wish to lose to you.”

“Jeez, you're just like Buffy.”

“Yes, I am Buffy.”

Faith rolled her eyes and took an opportunity to drive her knife deep into the difficult vampire's heart. He stared at her in dismay. She stared at him, waiting. Nothing happened.

“Shit!”

He looked down and realized the same thing that she had and then grabbed her throat with both hands. “I guess I win, Slayer.”

Yeah, as his fingers tightened around her airway it certainly felt like it. She clawed at his face and kicked his shins and ankles with the same result. Through eyes now smattered with black spots she saw the B-bot bend down and stake the one she'd dazed with the headbutt and then the one who's throat she'd slit.

“I win!” she said with all of her ultra-bright cheerfulness once they were both dust,. “I will hunt for the one that ran away now. If you are sure you have this under control.”

“Ohg yeg, totagly ong . . .” She needed to be sick but she couldn't let that happen, the vampire's hands would keep it locked in her throat and she'd probably choke to death. “Yug guh,” she told the B-bot, because if she was going to go out like this she didn't want any witnesses who could spread her humiliation around.

“I'm sorry, Faith, I cannot understand what you are saying. Please speak more clearly.”

The vampire taking her life grinned and squeezed his fingers until she couldn't make any words at all. Faith managed to gurgle out a few weird sounds. They made no sense and she knew that would be the last chance she had because she could feel a black-out coming on.

“I am still struggling to understand your words, Faith. I'm concerned that your power is failing.”

Jesus fucking Christ that was going to be the last thing she ever heard! And from a fucking robot too. A hot robot for sure, and a funny one – although it wasn't usually intentional – but that's why Faith enjoyed patrolling with her. She could be a kinda caring one too. Usually. Not so much now obviously. She always asked how Faith's day was going, though, before asking about her mental well-being. She wasn't just a robot, she was . . . a friend . . . who just happened to look like Buffy and be made of circuits and shit. Oh for fuck's sake, now she was gonna start crying about never seeing her again! This was totally not the glorious death she'd sometimes envisioned for herself.

WHOOSH

“I'm sorry for taking a slay away from you, Faith, but I was failing to understand everything you said and I was worried that some of it might have been important.”

Faith was on her knees, coughing her guts up, but she had to laugh at that. She coughed a few more times and then forced herself back to her feet. “Don't worry about it. You win tonight.”

The B-bot beamed but then her expression turned troubled, compelling Faith to ask, “What's wrong?”

“I don't know, my skin feels all tight and tingly,” she said, rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms.

“Yeah?” Faith might not have had the last slay but she was feeling pretty tingly too. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“Well it feels good to feel like this but it kinds makes me want to be bad.”

“You had me on-board at bad. Wanna get some ribs and then see where the night takes us?” Faith joked and kissed her because there was nothing like a good slay with a helping of real danger to wet the appetite . . . and the pussy.

“I don't have any ribs, Faith, but I do enjoy imbibing the occasional pint of grease-based lubricant.”

“Kinky.”

“And I also really enjoy sex.”

Faith smiled with pure pleasure. “Come on then, babe. Let's go break into an auto-shop and have some fun.”

That's a wrap.

fluffybkitty — Thu, 17 May 2018 23:13:27 GMT

I'm calling time on All Night Long. Nobody seems that interested in it and to be honest since about chapter 3 it's never been how I imagined it should be. Since I started it I've had a lot of life-changing events that have distracted me but I've just kept plodding on because I'd already begun. I can't do it anymore. Damned made me happy even when it was hard; this doesn't.

Got the count wrong a minute ago.

fluffybkitty — Fri, 04 May 2018 22:45:15 GMT

12863 / 50000 words. 26% done!

A few more words

fluffybkitty — Fri, 04 May 2018 22:41:36 GMT

10863 / 50000 words. 22% done!

Fic: All Night Long 9

fluffybkitty — Fri, 04 May 2018 22:37:14 GMT

Title: All Night Long - chapter eight..
Series: Damned If I Don't, Damned If I Do.
Rating: R
Pairings: Buffy/Faith
Summary: Curses can pass from one generation to the next, even without biology involved.

Chapter eight.

“Faith, your waters just broke.”

“They did not!”

“I’m pretty sure they did.”

“You’re lying! I have a week to go yet!”

Buffy was staying calm, not that Faith was making it very easy. “Okay, fine. You have crappy bladder control and pee’d yourself. Let’s keep going then.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time since the brat started bouncing around in there.”

Buffy’s nose wrinkled at the new information but she walked beside Faith, leaving the steaming patch in the snow behind. Well, she walked, Faith waddled because of her damp underwear.

“We’re on West 107th so we must have missed the motel on 105th, somehow, but there’s another on here that’s just . . .” Faith doubled over all of a sudden and Buffy rushed to put arms around her in case she needed to be held up. “Okay, what was that?”

Faith straightened up without help but didn’t shake Buffy off. Her hands were holding her swollen stomach tenderly. “A really hard kick?”

“Or a contraction!” Okay, trying to stay calm was out, panic was in. “Was it a contraction? Faith, you need to tell me and now! Was it?”

“I don’t fricken know! How am I supposed to know? Not like I’ve had a lot of babies before? Anyway it’s gone now, I’m fine.” She started to waddle on. “Let’s just find that motel because my pussy is freezing!”

“Can you not call it that!” she snapped.

“Why? Never bothered you before.”

It had actually, once upon a time, but now it just felt wrong when a baby was about to come out of it!

“Hurry up,” Faith called over her shoulder, still walking awkwardly away.

*****

“They’re contractions, Faith!” she snapped after the third one. “Stop trying to deny it.” She knew she should be timing them or something, but she had too much to deal with right now.

“Bull, it's indigestion.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, look! Told you we'd find one, B! This place is on the list! Number . . . three.” Why had she let Faith keep the list. “So not the worst. Says here it has eight double rooms.”

“Double as in they double as maternity rooms?” she asked hopefully as she checked out the black plaque bolted to the stone pillar beside the tall spike-topped wrought iron gates. Forbidding much? “'The Cleveland Requiem'. Odd name. Sounds like a churchy place.”

“Nah, it's a classy name. B&B's are always like that.”

“If you say so.” Faith had spent way more nights than she ever had in temporary accommodation so she should probably defer this one to her, but . . . “Wasn't number three one of the budget places though? How classy is it likely to be?”

“Would you stop looking for problems? It says 'Vacancies' in the window and that's all I need to know.”

Faith was right. No neon this time though. Just a handwritten word on a piece of card taped to the inside of the window. There was nothing in it to strike fear in even the faintest of hearts so Buffy didn’t get what was holding her back from the bulk-standard, boring front door. Unless it was just her ability to smell traps everywhere tonight.

“Faith are you sure you wouldn’t . . .”

“B, I’m having a baby not an operation so I don’t need a doctor or a hospital or a gown that leaves my ass cold or anyone trying to gas me. All I need is somewhere reasonably comfortable and out of this fucking snow.”

“Faith, you can’t just crawl into a corner to give birth. You’re not an animal.”

“No I’m a slayer and I’ve got this, B. All you need to worry about is catching the kid in a clean towel when he pops out.” With that she pushed the doorbell. It donged six times like a death toll, not improving Buffy's spirits one bit.

They didn't have to wait long before the door creaked inwards and Abraham Lincoln smiled down at them. “Good evening, ladies.”

“Great, a themed place,” Faith grumbled. “That's why it's budget.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Buffy eyed the top hat and the sparkly blood-red waistcoat beneath his black dinner jacket and was left with a 'huh?'

“Welcome to The Requiem. Please, come in out of the cold and make yourselves at home.”

Neither of them moved; Faith because of what she thought was going on and Buffy because she didn't know what was going on.

“Do we have more guests, George?” A woman, short and skinny, sidled around the man so that she was the one in front of the doorway. She took in their apprehension and smiled reassuringly. “Forgive my husband. He does get carried away on nights like this.”

“Uh huh,” Buffy said while contemplating the woman's bonnet, frilly apron, and sensible leather clogs.

“We need a room,” Faith said.

“No we don't,” she said.

“Then why did you ring the bell?” The woman asked.

“Because we need a room,” Faith said again.

“I wanted to borrow your phone,” Buffy improvised, and as improvisations went it wasn't a bad one. A working phone would be awesome right now!

“Then come in, dear girls, and use our telephone. And perhaps warm yourselves a while. Would you like some wine?”

“Sounds good.” Buffy had to pull Faith back from entering, “I didn't mean the wine!”

“We're in kind of a hurry. My girlfriend is about to have a baby. Can you bring the phone to us?”

“A baby? Mmm.”

“I'm afraid the cable will not stretch so far. Will you not come in and make use of it?” The man said over the woman's head. “A warm break from the cold snow will surely make your onward journey more pleasant.”

“Exactly! Come in. Come in,” the woman urged.

“You guys are weird,” Faith finally realized.

“You guys are vampires,” Buffy said, getting straight to the crux of her particular problem with them.

Faith looked at her in surprise. “They're what?”

“Are you new at this?” she snapped as the hoteliers dropped their act to lunge at her unsuspecting girlfriend. Snap-kicking the woman back into the man brought them a few seconds and then Faith produced a short, thin stake from somewhere and Buffy snatched it and with a lunge turned the creepier one to dust.

With a roar of pain-filled rage the man with the mutton chop sideburns and the sparkly red waistcoat ran through his wife's dust to get to them and met Faith's small over-the-shoulder handbag ... fangs first.

He landed on his ass clutching his mouth and Buffy pulled Faith away from the house and back up the path to the road before she could charge in and claim a room for the night.

“How was I supposed to know it was run by vampires?” Faith snapped in an out of out of breath voice.

“You weren't,” she assured her. “I didn't know either at first.”

“But then you did. What's wrong with me?”

“Baby hormones?”

They were back on the pavement and several looks back showed that nothing was chasing them. Still Buffy walked as quickly as Faith could to put some distance between them and The Cleveland Requiem. After a while Faith stuck her thumb out, and figuring it couldn't hurt Buffy did the same. Several cars passed them with no luck.

“Show a little leg.”

“No! You show a little leg!”

“Okay, if you're happy with your pregnant girlfriend doing that . . .”

“No! No, I'm not. I'll do it!” She hiked her dress up and immediately cars started honking their horns.

She was feeling flattered until one guy shouted out of a passenger window, “Nice pussy! Wanna fuck?”

“Too high, B! Pull your fucking dress down a little, you ho!”

“What? Oh God!” In an embarrassed panic she pulled her dress down as far as it could go and there was no way she was trying that tactic again, ever. “Okay, so we need to . . .” Faith bent over to lean on someone's decorative brick wall. “Damn, are you okay?”

“Yuh, I'm fine,” Faith promised in a strangled voice.

Buffy gave her a minute before saying, “So hospital now, yes?”

“No, I'm ‘kay.”

“Faith, you can't even string a pair of syllables together. Do you want to have your baby out on the street?”

Faith walked on like she hadn't even heard her and, shaking her head, Buffy followed. What choice did she have?

“Got another.”

“What?”

“I don't think it's on the list, but it's a motel with a vacancies sign out front.”

“Hospital, Faith! You need a hospital.” Buffy sighed as the stubborn look reared in Faith’s eyes and saved her breath for the Lamaze breathing techniques she’d learned from a book. “Alright, let's knock on the door.”

It was another opportunity to use a phone at least.

This place was less grand than the last, but it looked nice from the outside. There were painted shutters over the windows and hardy winter shrubs were in flower along the path, battling the snow falling on them and – so far – winning.

They couldn't find a doorbell so Faith took the flimsy-looking knocker between finger and thumb and banged it down hard three times. In Buffy's opinion the sound it made wouldn't attract the attention of a Hearing Dog for the Deaf, but only seconds later the white painted door opened to reveal a middle-aged blonde woman. She was smiling widely and holding her hands out to draw them in before she even saw them.

Buffy did a quick check and noted the pink cheeks and rapid, excited breathing. Definitely not vampires. Possibly still weirdo's though.

“Come in, come in. It's so cold out there! Oh, you're pregnant! How nice. How far along are you? Is this your sister? Hello!”

She reached out to shake Buffy's hand. “I'm not her sister.”

“Apologies. Good friends are special, aren't they?” The woman beamed and then addressed Faith again while peering over their shoulders out into the snowy night. “Is your husband with you? We have parking at the rear if he has a car.”

Beyond the door was a long, dimly lit hallway. The electric lights were in low wall sconces and shed more light on the pictures hanging above them than the diamond patterned carpet or the way forward.

“She doesn't have a husband,” she said, distracted by the artwork. It was amateurish and there wasn't much variation on the theme but it wasn't that bad if you liked oil paintings of bearded men in robes with cherubs and/or sheep.

“Oh!” Buffy startled back when the proprietor clutched dramatically at her chest. “A widow so young. You poor girl.”

Faith finally stopped wincing at the pain she was trying to mask to set her straight. “I'm not a widow.”

“Running from domestic abuse?” the woman asked hopefully, hands wringing in front of her.

Faith gave a flat, “No.”

While Buffy mused on it and said, “Kinda.”

“B, no! Me and my man just had a difference of opinion when it came to having this baby, that's all. So we split.”

Buffy balked at Faith wordage, but when the owner of the place began with: “I understand pregnancy can be a very trying time, but a difference of opinion young lady is no . . .” she balked even more.

She could see Faith was about to let loose on the woman and believe her, Buffy wasn't thrilled with what they had unwittingly walked into here either, but at the very least she needed to use the telephone!

“You're so right and if it was down to me there would be wedding bells tomorrow,” she lied, cutting in optimistically. “So how much will our room be?”

It was in vain. “I'm afraid you won't be able to stay here tonight. I wish you well, dear, but our Lord is very clear on the importance of children being born within the sanctity of marriage; the fruit of a loving and committed union.”

They were being ushered back towards the door! “No, wait! My girlfriend's in labor. Please at least let me use your phone to call an ambulance?”

Sighing and smiling softly the woman looked about to relent, until the words sunk in. Buffy kicked herself as her expression hardened even more. “Girlfriend? Honestly! No wonder the father left you.” She shook her head in disgust. “Out you go, now please.”

“You're going to regret this!”

“B, just leave it and let's go.”

She didn't. She couldn't. “I mean it! The dad is a God too and he is going to be so pissed with you when he finds out you're the reason his precious son was born on the street!”

“Now you're making fun of me?” She opened the door in one violent pull . “Leave before I call the police.”

“And tell them what?” Buffy demanded. “You have a vacancies sign in your window! So it's hardly a crime to . . .” Shit, Faith was gone. Out of the door as soon as she'd heard the P of police probably but Buffy had been too incensed to notice right away. She stared out of the door, hesitating. “Please can I just use your telephone?”

“Out!” The pointed finger left no room for more argument.

“Awesome Christian spirit by the . . .” The door slammed in her face. “Faith! Faith, where are you? Oh, there you are. Why are you hiding in a bush?”

“I don't know; I might be giving birth,” Faith panted from the depths of the shrubbery.

*****
Thankfully Faith didn't give birth in the garden next door to the religious fanatic, although it was a good few minutes before she could make herself rise out of the squat the contraction had forced her in to.

“So where is the hospital?” Faith asked once they were moving again.

Buffy was overjoyed that Faith was finally on the same page as her, but she couldn't answer that. “How do I know? It's your hospital.”

“You're the one who did all the dummy runs!”

She had done a lot of them, but every time she and Xander - or sometimes she and Kennedy - had started from Wendigo Hollow and she was pretty sure that they had never passed through these particular streets.

“Cleveland Presbyterian right? Okay, that’s . . . maybe I should knock on a door or . . . or wave down a motorist?” Faith looked at her with sarcastic sympathy. “Fine, what do you suggest? Oh, I could find a cop, they’d have to help, right?”

“No cops! Are you kidding me? Do you want our kid born behind bars?”

“Better than being born in the snow!” she shouted back, but she wasn’t going to jump in front of police car now that she remembered Faith was still technically on the run. “Okay, I’ll get us a cab. Not like we have to worry about staying in a fleapit motel now anyway.”

“No, now we get to stay in a fleapit hospital instead. Come on, then. Might as well just keep going the way we were. Bound to hit a big road sooner or later where we can hail a cab or, you know, an ambulance.”

Buffy shrugged in compliance and trudged along beside her because what else could they do? It wasn't like they had options falling out of the sky and . . .

“Holy shit, dude! Where did you come from?”

Buffy looked up in alarm to see that something had just landed in their path and this was certainly no snowflake. It was as white as one though – except for the dark glasses.

“Buffy, nice to see you again.”

She groaned as she watched large feathery wings fold discreetly away and couldn't believe that she'd forgotten about this guy.

More words.

fluffybkitty — Fri, 04 May 2018 10:18:33 GMT

Okay, okay I know it's May, but I'm going to keep going anyway.

Chapter 24 of "Standing on the Edge, Dancing in the Flames" is now up.

10621 / 50000 words. 21% done!

Late out of the gate.

fluffybkitty — Mon, 23 Apr 2018 04:38:27 GMT

Ha, it's only the 23rd and I have already posted some fic, Yay \0/ *head/desk*

Chapter 23 of "Standing On The Edge, Dancing In The Flames" is now up.

7115 / 50000 words. 14% done!

Camp Nano

fluffybkitty — Fri, 30 Mar 2018 16:30:46 GMT

Camp NaNo begins on 1st April but with the Easter holidays taking up two weeks of it I'd be lucky to hit 1000 words so I've decided to do something different.

I have two fics finished but in need of some Serious tidying up and posting so I'm setting myself the challenge of posting 50000 words in a month instead of trying and no doubt dismally failing to write that many.

Obviously its not suitable for the official challenge so I'll be posting my progress here instead. Hence the first post I've made here in a million months.

Wish me luck 🙄

I finally found my password.

fluffybkitty — Thu, 05 Oct 2017 21:46:20 GMT

So I finally caved after two days and bought a new laptop . . . five months ago. It has taken me until now to find my bloody password. Anyway for anyone still reading, I'm back :)

If only I could express the owie in a hundred words.

fluffybkitty — Sat, 18 Feb 2017 02:37:35 GMT

I have a painful, painful shoulder. It's very hurty and sore and it's making everything, but most importantly, writing hard :( I'm trying though.

Also I have that Sarah McLachlan song in my head. The one from the end of Becoming Part II.

My brain isn't a happy place tonight.

Fic: All Night Long (8)

fluffybkitty — Mon, 23 Jan 2017 21:45:53 GMT

Title: All Night Long - chapter eight..
Series: Damned If I Don't, Damned If I Do.
Rating: R
Pairings: Buffy/Faith
Summary: Curses can pass from one generation to the next, even without biology involved.

The sound of the crash was fast replaced with a high pitched squawking noise. At first Buffy mistook it for sirens and panicked, until the flashing amber hazard lights clued her in. It was just a car alarm, blaring, screaming to the world that somebody had hit it hard, side-on.

It didn’t calm her panic as Buffy slipped and slid at speed around to the passenger side of her own car. “Faith! Faith, are you okay? Shit!” She nearly went down but saved herself with two hands on the lowered window. “Are you alright? Please tell me you’re not hurt?”

“I’m not hurt; don’t think I can say the same for our car. Or that car.”

Buffy yanked the door open and half fell inside to check Faith over for herself. If Faith was seriously wounded or, God forbid, the baby, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself.

“I said I’m fine,” Faith griped at the fussing as Buffy patted her over for any obvious injuries. “I saw what was coming and braced for it.”

Satisfied, Buffy finally had time to think. Straightening up, she surveyed the damage over the roof. Faith had been steering them out of a line of assorted vehicles parked parallel to the sidewalk. The late hour and poor weather had worked in their favor, meaning there was ample space in front and behind them to pull out. Only, when the engine had caught and roared to life their car had shot forward with a burst of speed that was too much for the snowy road conditions and Faith had obviously not been able to control it from the passenger seat because it had skidded not just forwards but sideways too.

Unfortunately the car they’d crunched into was the smaller of the two and now had a new hood ornament, which doubled as a wing ornament and a door ornament. And it looked permanent. Pity it hadn’t killed the alarm too; it was still shrieking and attracting passers-by that hadn’t already stopped at the initial crashing noise. People were no longer minding their own business, they were too busy paying attention to hers!

“Well if you saw it coming,” she snapped, feeling even more frazzled because of the on-lookers, “why didn’t you brake?”

Despite the tight interior, Faith skilfully spun the hilt of the broadsword in her hand so that it was pointing up instead of down. “Why do you think, huh?”

Buffy gulped and didn’t dare look down in case she split her chin open. “Witnesses!” she hissed, suddenly grateful they were there.

“No jury in the land would wanna convict me once I explained. So say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know. What’s that thing that’s the opposite of what you usually love saying to me?”

Now seeing where this was going, Buffy did her best to fight against it. “Um, don’t fuck me?”

Faith laughed but the sword stayed where it was. “Nuh-uh, try again.”

Buffy sighed. “You were right and I was wrong. My plan wasn’t of the good. Now put that sword away before one of us loses a head, or the cops show up.”

Still laughing, Faith did throw the weapon onto the floor in the back and then began the laborious task of getting out of the car and onto her feet.

“Be careful you don’t slip,” Buffy warned as she helped by pulling on her arm.

“I’m fine. I have a decade and a half of experience when it comes to walking on snow. Just grab my bag for me, will ya?”

Once Faith was out of the way Buffy did so. She didn’t know what they should do next, but they weren’t going anywhere in the car tonight – or probably ever again. By the time she’d shut the passenger door and locked the car with the fob Faith was already on the sidewalk and walking away.

“Faith, we can’t just leave the scene of an accident. It’s illegal!” She’d never be sure if she said that because she felt it or for the benefit of their audience, but it was enough for Faith to turn around and head back.

Digging around in her purse for a moment, she used a sleeve of her coat to wipe the snow from the windshield of the car they had accidentally totalled. When she’d finished Buffy could see she’d written a series of digits on it in crimson lipstick and the word ‘Sorry!’ beneath.

“Faith, that’s Giles’ phone number!” she reprimanded with a scandalized chuckle.

“So what? It’s his insurance anyway. Now come on, before the cops really do show up.”

Buffy followed her to the opposite sidewalk, trying to keep her face turned away from the gathered crowd. One woman didn’t take the hint and approached her anyway.

“Is your friend okay? She’s pregnant. Maybe I should call an ambulance.”

She thought about letting her. If her phone actually worked maybe Buffy could borrow it afterwards to check in, but she was sort of with Faith in wanting to get far away from the scene as soon as possible.

“Thank you, but my girlfriend assures me she’s fine.” Buffy gave her the bright ‘Yep, I’m gay’ smile she’d been mastering since she and Faith had become a real thing. “But I promise I’m going to make her see a doctor just as soon as I can find one.”

She was pretty sure the woman kept on talking, but that was okay because Buffy just kept on walking. She was faster than Faith now – not that she hadn’t always been! – and caught up with her easily by the end of the block.

“So now what?”

“Now I figure we break the rules a little and stay out past curfew.”

“Pretty much a given at this point.”

“Do you think you can sneak out for the whole night? Without your pops finding out and being mad?” Faith grinned and Buffy mentally pencilled ‘role-play’ into her mental log for when things got boring in the bedroom.

Actually, she probably shouldn’t wait that long, or they’d already be too old to get the full fun factor out of it.

“I think I’m prepared to risk it. For you. Why, what do you have in mind?”

“You. Me. A room in the best motel I can afford.”

“So a pretty sleazy one then?” she joked.

“Only if you want breakfast in the morning too.”

“Happy birthday to me,” Buffy sing-songed.

Faith bumped her shoulder. “Nah, we can find a nice one. We’ll just make it sleazy after we lock the door for the night.”

“Sounds perfect,” Buffy smiled. “Are you really sure you’re really okay though? After the thing.”

“Really, really. I’m fine and Junior is still bouncing off the walls like an asshole so I think he’s alright too. I don’t know what’s got him so antsy tonight, though. Feels like he’s snap-kicking my kidneys or some shit.” She rubbed the bottom of her back. “He’s got some power in his legs, that’s for sure.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Kinda.”

“Are you sure it’s not some other reason, like the . . .”

“B, I said we’re fine, didn’t I? For real, if I thought there was something wrong I’d be doing something about it.”

Buffy believed that so she let it drop. They passed a Mexican restaurant, a bar lit up like it was still Christmas and a late-opening coffee house that wafted delicious mocha-aromas around them when the door opened. The area being so lively made her hopeful that they would come across a motel soon and until then it was kind of nice walking with Faith through the gently falling snow. She reached out and took her hand, giving it a squeeze before lacing their fingers together.

Faith smiled at her and squeezed back, but said, “One word about this being romantic and I’m sleeping in that motel room alone. You can find a bench.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Buffy promised, before slyly whispering. “You know it is though.”

“Walking through the snow is not romantic.”

“It is! It’s pretty.”

“It’s not. It’s freezing.”

“It is! Did you know that every snow-flake is different? No two are the same.”

“And that’s what makes it romantic? Every piece of ice that falls on my face is different so I should feel more in love with you than I already do? That’s so full of crap.”

Buffy smiled. She didn’t need Faith to believe it, she’d just heard the proof for herself.

About twenty minutes later the snow wasn’t romantic anymore, even to her. The walking was keeping the shivers at bay, but she still felt cold right down to her toes.

“Do you think we’re going to find a motel soon?” she asked, pulling her hands into her sleeves and tucking them under her arms.

“Thought we’d have found one already. There’s motels and B and B’s all over this fuckin’ city, I don’t understand it.”

Buffy thought about Troy’s ability to control space and time and about how some demons could cloak their lairs. Then she thought about how they were in a part of Cleveland that she didn’t know, that had given over to residential neighbourhoods about three minutes after leaving the road of restaurants and bars behind. Perhaps it just wasn’t a very touristy area.

With that in mind, at the end of the next block she insisted they change direction. “There’s nothing around here. Let’s head back towards the lake.”

Faith didn’t grumble about it as they turned at the corner, until they’d walked another three blocks. “Are we going the right way?”

“I think so. How far were we from it at the restaurant?”

“About half a mile.”

They’d walked further than that, but most of it had been in the wrong direction. “Let’s just keep going.”

“Really? Are you forcing another of your plans on me?”

“Fine. You pick the next direction.”

Laughing, Faith shook her head, “No, it’s cool. Despite the universe advising me otherwise, I trust you.”

She was right to, because only a block later they saw a red neon sign for a motel with a flashing green ‘vacancies’ sign beneath it. They picked up the pace as they approached it. The office was right off the road and warm and most importantly, snow-free.

The woman behind the high desk smiled as they walked in, shaking snow from their hair and clothes. “It’s getting worse, huh?”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s gonna stop anytime soon,” Faith agreed.

“You need two rooms or a twin?” the woman had swivelled her chair around to her computer already.

“A double, please?” Buffy said with her ‘Yep, I’m gay!’ smile again.

“Oh.”

“Do you have a problem with that?” She could feel Faith smirking at her but she didn’t care. She’d struggled to be out and proud with Toni; she refused to be the same way with the love of her life. “Will you not give us a double room?”

“No, it’s fine.” The woman was so busy on her computer now maybe she hadn’t heard right.

“We want a double so we can sleep together.” Okay, that was too much information. Her mom was turning in her grave. “It’s what we do, together, in beds and . . . What’s so funny?”

Faith was slapping her leg at Buffy’s apparently rib-tickling routine while the receptionist was smiling too. “You can have a double, no problem, but there’s only one left and it’s our most expensive.”

As Buffy came down from her Pride Parade for one, Faith pulled out her bank card. “That’s fine. It’s her birthday anyway.”

“Happy birthday!” The woman said to her, before taking Faith’s card and saying, “its $120. Just give me a minute to print out the paperwork.”

“Are you kidding me?” Faith snatched the card back so fast the woman continued typing for a few seconds before she realized it had gone. “For one night?”

“Like I said, it is our most expensive room.”

“We’ll take a twin.”

The woman nodded and tapped some more on her keyboard. She’d learnt fast because she said, “Our cheapest twin room available is $87.”

“How much for a single?”

More tapping. “$45.”

“That’s more like it. We’ll take it.”

“You’ll need two of them.”

“No, it’s cool. We’ve shared a single bed before.”

“Actually, funny story, we shared this tiny, single camp-bed one time and . . .”

She was happy to be interrupted, because what was she thinking? She couldn’t share those stories with a complete stranger! “I can’t let the both of you share a single room. I’m sorry but it’s company policy. Fire regulations and all that.”

“We’re not gonna start any fires! We just want to sleep!” Faith argued.

“I’m really sorry. Look, help yourselves to a hot drink and I’ll get you the addresses of some other motels in the area. They might have more rooms. We just packed out early because of the snow.”

It was a nice offer and their best option so Buffy coaxed Faith away from the desk to the drinks machine against the wall of the reception area. Still irate Faith demanded an expresso, so Buffy got her a hot chocolate and gestured for her to sit down on the red couch.

When she complained, Buffy said, “The baby is already jumpy, do you really want to feed him caffeine?”

Faith groaned, but accepted the cocoa and nursed the plastic cup between her hands.

They’d barely sipped at their drinks before the desk-woman was calling them back to hand over a short list of motels that were close by.

“This one definitely has rooms, I spoke to the manager just a little while ago, but they’re not much cheaper than we are. These two are budget, but they might already be fully booked because of the snow storm. This one is . . . honestly, personally I wouldn’t stay there, or let my dog stay there, but they only charge $15 dollars a night. If you’re that desperate just . . . sleep on top of the sheets with your clothes on.”

Buffy took the list and thanked her, because she really was trying to help. Faith was in a less grateful mood, but she wasn’t outright rude so Buffy let her be.

“Stay and finish your drinks if you want.”

“Thanks, but I think they’ll be better as hand warmers as we walk. Not that they’re not tasty!” she lied as she pulled on Faith’s arm to get her moving again. “And thanks for your hospitality,” she called back as an afterthought.

“What hospitality?” Faith pulled on her hand until she could comfortably trap Buffy’s arm under her own and then passed her hot chocolate to her other hand so that it wasn’t jiggled with every step she took. “In case you didn’t realize, she turned us out.”

“But not because we’re gay!” Buffy pointed out.

“Times sure are a-changing,” Faith drawled, earning herself a poke in the ribs – or roughly where her ribs were – that spilled her cocoa anyway.

They stopped in a bus shelter to check the list of motels. There were more than just the four the receptionist had mentioned and surely one of them had a vacancy. Christmas was over, there had to be room in at least one inn.

Faith glanced up at the bus stop sign and nodded, “Right so we know where we are now, let’s take a look at the map and figure out where these places are.”

“What map?”

“The city map the chick behind the desk gave you.”

Frowning, Buffy looked through the papers the woman had given her. It didn’t take long. “There is no map.”

“Come on, she must have given you a map!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Faith, I can’t see a map. Here,” she thrust the two pieces of paper at her girlfriend. “See if you can find one.”

“How can she not have given us a map?” Meticulously, Faith checked the top and bottom and front and back of each sheet in disbelief. “Doesn’t she get that we’re tourists? That’s why we need a freakin’ motel room in the first place.”

Buffy caught her arm before she could storm all the way back and demand one. Faith’s passion for carrying knives had landed her in prison back a long time ago, but she wasn’t above still twisting the occasional arm to get things done her way.

“Hey, let’s not. We can figure this out.” She gestured up at the sign. “The streets are numbered. How hard can it be?”

“I’m more worried how far it can be.”

Faith did look weary for someone who’d been glowing with health just a few hours ago. She was haggard and sweaty-looking despite the snow swirling in her face. “Are you . . .?” No, Faith would walk another twenty miles than admit any physical weakness. If Buffy hadn’t known that already Toni had said as much about their trip through Tartarus. “I mean, did you want to flag down a cab?”

“Then we really will be staying at that flea-pit. Just come on.”

They walked further down the street and turned at a cross-section, hoping they were heading the right way. If they were, one of the motels should be just two blocks away. The snow was settling fast now and they left inch thick footprints past terrace houses and large, upscale apartment complexes. Buffy gave Faith quick glances and was alarmed each time to see her panting lightly and holding her stomach. Was she in pain? Buffy felt worse about leaving the car lights on with every step she took, but each time she opened her mouth to say so she was convinced she could hear Faith growling under her breath.

“Looking on the brightside,” she said after another twenty minutes. “We’re sure to pass one of those motels by chance any second now. You know, with the law of averages and . . .” Buffy stopped abruptly when Faith did and wondered at the, uh, complicated look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t . . .” The sound of hissing steam overtook her words and Buffy looked down. “Oh, for fucks sake I am so done with pregnancy! Did I just fucking piss myself in the street?”

A nervous giggle escaped her, “Uh, not unless you were lying about going at the restaurant and, you know, turned into a racehorse.”

“What?!”

There was an uneven circle of steaming sidewalk showing in the snow between Faith’s feet that could only mean one thing.

“Faith, the baby’s coming.”

Not so shabby.

fluffybkitty — Fri, 13 Jan 2017 10:49:00 GMT

So first day went well and getting up wasn't a problem because I hardly slept all night anyway. I enjoyed it. It wasn't as tricky to pick up as I was expecting and I tell you it was a hell of a lot warmer in the store than out of it this morning!

I think my mum was watching over me too :) On my way in to work I heard the Prayer For The Day on Radio 4 and it was all about overcoming redundant fear and anxiety to live a happier, more successful life. The second sign was the robin hopping inquisitively about in the fizzy drink aisle. They were my mum's favourite bird and have always held a close association for me ever since she passed and seeing on in the store is definitely not a regular occurrence.

So if that was all down to you Mum; thanks, you helped :)

Why I need to become a morning person over night.

fluffybkitty — Thu, 12 Jan 2017 22:39:29 GMT

I start a new job tomorrow. Same company, same department but a different role with a much earlier start-time, which is supposedly going to fit in with my life better now. It wasn't my decision and I'm not very happy about it, but I have been struggling at work for the past couple of months for a few reasons so I'm just constantly trying to convince myself it's for the best in the long run.

My new shift starts at 6am. I haven't started work at 6am for 12 years! I didn't even know people still did start work at 6am. As you can see I have a problem with the 6am. I am somewhat trained in this area now however, more so that I was 4 months ago because my daughter also thinks the day should always start sometime before 6am. So it won't be that bad, right?

Thinking positively isn't stopping me from bricking it about what happens after I wake up tomorrow though :(

What the . . .?

fluffybkitty — Wed, 11 Jan 2017 02:59:38 GMT

Weird things just happened. I was writing away on the next HotSS episode, all going well, but I paused to go downstairs for a cigarette (yes I know they're bad for me, and I'm down to just a couple a day) and when I came back up I found this:

It took them over an hour to patrol Town Road because the houses were spaced far apart and at every gate the same argument arose. “Is it okay to just walk into this life. Or should I be more sensitive to my brother?"

It's the bit in speech marks that got me, because they really don't fit into the story! I know I'm tired, I'm always tired because I have a 15 week old baby! but that still feels way to pointed to be random. I just wish I knew what it was pointing at.

Fic: All Night Long (7)

fluffybkitty — Fri, 21 Oct 2016 17:45:03 GMT

Title: All Night Long - chapter seven.

Series: Damned If I Don't, Damned If I Do.

Rating: R

Pairings: Buffy/Faith

Summary: Curses can pass from one generation to the next, even without biology involved.

As it happened, Xander did not have breakdown coverage, but the guy who ran the auto-repair shop they usually used offered to do him a solid by driving out to take a look in the morning. That was the best he could do, he said. He didn’t seem to care that Xander and six young girls were stuck on the side of the road half-way between Wendigo Hollow and the city, in the cold.

“But it’s starting to snow,” he pleaded as small, icy flakes fell softly from the low, dark sky.

“Yeah, it’s coming down heavy, huh? It’s not good. Did you know I’m a dad now, Mr. Harris? I can’t drive in this, I got a baby to think about.”

“You’re not the only one, Pal!” Xander muttered as he cut the call and huffed hot breath onto the bare hand he was holding his cell with. What next? He turned on the spot to take in as much of the crash site as he could, cursing the combination of dazzling headlights and swirling snowflakes that laughed in the face of any confidence he usually had in his impaired vision. “Okay, ladies, let’s get this van moved out of the road before we wind up crumpled at both ends.”

Xander was taking charge, but really it took the six slayers about three seconds to get the busted vehicle off of the highway and onto the snow-dusted scrub to the side of it.

“Now what?” Ying asked him, rubbing her gloves together in anticipation. “Are we walking to Cleveland or walking back home to get another vehicle?”

He admired her enthusiasm . . . or he would if it didn’t make him feel like super-whiny-guy. He didn’t want to walk anywhere, not when it would be near to ten miles in either direction, but they were no good to anyone standing on the side of the road like this and the girls were all looking at him, waiting for him to carry on taking charge.

WWBD?

So . . . “Uh, I’m just gonna call Buff and see what she thinks is best,” he decided, hitting the button on his cell phone and holding it to his ear. He gave the girls a reassuring smile as it rang on and on. “She’s probably busy pushing a meatball around her plate for Faith; I’ll leave a voicemail.” He had no idea why he dropped his voice and covered the mouthpiece when he said that, except that the background static-y noise was of the creepy wind tunnel kind. It rang and rang and he began to tap his foot impatiently in time until he had to finally accept that Buffy’s voicemail was never going to kick in.

“I’ll try Giles," he told the expectant girls. “If nothing else, he can come and get us.” The G-man wouldn’t like it, but what else could he do? Bracing himself for some good old British grouchiness, Xander called the house, but he only had to listen to the same spooky whooshy sound behind the dull ringing tone for half a minute.

“What the hell happened here?” That hadn’t come through the phone! Xander turned back to face the road to see that another van had pulled up beside theirs and the girls were clustered around the windows.

“God Bless ye merry gentlemen, uh, gentlewomen,” he exclaimed at the sweet escape from grumpy Britishisms and muscled his way to the driver's window. “Kennedy! Not that it’s not great to see you but what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be surrounding Buffy’s birthday bash by now?”

If he sounded cranky it was only because if his team wasn’t there and Kennedy’s team wasn’t there . . . nobody was there.

Kennedy was sheepish as she explained. “We were, ah, kinda delayed by a . . . Look, there must have been something in the road. It could have happened to anyone.”

“What could have happened to anyone?”

“We got a flat,” she finally admitted, and then the confessions kept on coming. “And I’ve never had to change a tire before, okay! And it’s not like I’m just driving a car. It took some time, alright, but I did it, so don’t give me that look.” He didn’t know what kind of look he was giving her until she added, “Anyway, what happened to you? Why is your hood all buckled like that?”

Now he knew his look, it was as sheepish as hers. “We, um, may possibly have run into the back of a car. The car Buffy and Faith were in to be exact.”

“Really?” At his embarrassed nod, she deadpanned, “Then you win.”

“Awesome,” he cheered sarcastically. “They’re fine, by the way, left us in the dust . . . actually make that snow. They’re probably already eating. Did Buffy text you the restaurant yet?”

“I don’t think so.” She pulled her cell phone from the dashboard to check anyway and the shake of her head was a negative. “You? Obviously not, or you wouldn’t be asking. Okay, everyone pile in. It’s going to be a squeeze, but Willow will be mad if I leave you out here to freeze to death.”

“You’re all heart,” Xander joked as one of her girls pulled the side door open and they all did as they were told. “But thanks. We appreciate it.”

With eleven girls and Xander in the back he felt like a sardine. It smelled like a cross between a Macy’s perfume counter, warm, wet wool and the garlic-y lasagna Andrew had made for an early dinner. This van had been modified the same as his with a bench along each side, but even though they were all ten times stronger than him, he was a lot bigger than most of them and chose to sit on the floor between the many pairs of slender feet in big, thick ass-kicking boots.

He eyed them warily and called to the front, “If you could take it easy around the corners that would be . . .?”

Kennedy pulled away from the side of the road at speed and Xander winced and swore under his breath as everyone was jostled around. That was going to bruise . . . in like eleven places!

“I’m going to call Willow,” Kennedy shouted back to him. “Get her to do a locator spell.”

“Good idea. So would be slowing down.”

The G-force created by Kennedy stamping on the gas was tugging at him, pulling him back, and as he put his hands down to keep his balance they were stepped on. Oh this was just great! Buffy’s birthday curse was obviously getting stronger, because he was having a crap Buffy-birthday too!

“I can’t slow down. We have a lot of time to make up.” And then Willow was saying hello over the speaker-phone and Kennedy was talking to her and Xander just had to grimace and bear it.

*****

Xander was starting to get agitated in the back of the van. “What do you mean the third was a bust too?”

“I mean Willow’s first two attempts came to nothing so she tried again and she’s still coming up state-wide.”

They had reached Cleveland now and Kennedy had pulled up in a side street so the finger-crushing had stopped, but that was the only upside so far. It was still too dark, over-crowded and chaotic in the back but worse than that was Willow’s lack of results. What was the point of him being stuck in this situation if they didn’t even know where Buffy was?

He tried her cell phone again and listened to the same eerie squall as before. “This is stupid!”

“I agree!” Kennedy slammed her hands on the steering wheel. The casing creaked. “Sorry. Just what are we supposed to do now?”

“I don’t know.” He’d pushed his way right to the front so he could talk to Kennedy without being drowned out by the frustrated slayers, but they were still a din that was getting on his nerves. “Did Will speak to Giles? Does he have any ideas?”

“Apparently he’s going frantic. Raving about calling the Seers in England. Willow is getting pissed off with him.”

Xander chuckled at that; it was the only funny thing about tonight. “Okay, here’s a thought. Buffy’s wrong, Faith’s right. Everything’s going to be fine. We give up and all go home to bed?”

The noise behind him grew even louder.

“I was joking! Have you girls never heard of the humor/horror concept?”

“We only have the most serious girls here,” Kennedy gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Then maybe that’s where we’re going wrong,” he griped.

“Because slayers that don’t take things seriously have inbuilt GPS?” Kennedy was sarcastic now.

He didn’t appreciate it. “That would be better than this! Buffy could be out there right now, in a major trouble situation and we can’t do squat!”

“And Faith? That is who we’re supposed to be out here protecting anyway, isn’t it?”

“Don’t even.” He shook his head angrily. “I’m here for Faith, but if she . . .”

“What? Didn’t want to take her girlfriend out on her birthday?”

“Didn’t insist on no protection! I wouldn’t be surprised if she was behind our lack of communication. She probably paid someone to block the signals just to be difficult.”

“Would she really do that?” Kennedy asked.

“She’s done more for worse reasons.”

“Well, if she has . . .” The in-car phone rang. “Hang on.” She pressed the button to answer it. “Willow?”

“No, it’s me Dawn. Willow’s doing yet another locator spell, but I just hacked Faith’s internet history. Faith made reservations for tonight at T . . . he . . . Lan . . . te . . .rn . . . B . . .”

“Dawn, you’re breaking up. Where?”

“Th. . . La . . . t . . . n . . . Be . . .”

“Where?” Xander shouted from the back.

“The . . . ter . . .Ell! Ca . . . ou . . . h . . . me?”

“No, say it again!” Kennedy snapped at the phone.

“L . . . n . . . ell . . . G . . . t?”

Kennedy looked back to him but he could only helplessly shake his head.

“Hang up and try calling her back?”

She did so. The ringing tone seemed to go forever and then Xander realized it was because it was going to. Nobody was going to pick up.

“Maybe it’s the weather.” He looked at the windshield. Since they’d been stationary enough snow had settled to obscure the view of the street.

“Maybe. And maybe it’s not.” Kennedy started the engine and the wipers cleared the layer of white flakes with one swipe. “So does everyone agree we’re looking for somewhere in the city beginning with La?”

Proud Momma

fluffybkitty — Tue, 18 Oct 2016 20:54:49 GMT

Liam wrote his first fanfiction!

I have never been so proud. It was for a school project, he had to do something, seriously pretty much anything - the list of options was a whole side of A4 - connected to the Funny Bones universe. He wrote a news report about the skeletons antics - including a reward of £10 000 000 for anyone with any information on their whereabouts. And then... AND THEN, he asked if he was allowed to write his OWN story about the skeletons.

"Allowed?" I said "Get back on my laptop right this minute. I'll bring you a snack and mop your sweaty brow as you painstakingly search for and stab out each letter!"

He wrote 155 words in the end and we're both thrilled to bits with it. I just hope his teacher likes it too.