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The Late Shift (FIC)

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The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby Owl » Mon Mar 18, 2002 10:26 am

Ah, the return of wiccachica, indicating the official start of the working week... I find you preferable to the factory whistle and those little punch-cards. ...in case you were wondering....
I am very happy that you have decided to continue this. aside from the whole extra willow fiasco, there's the matter of Danger, and Olivia...(she says hopefully) where are they, and what is she, besides dead?

bearskeeper
do you remember the cliff that said "bite me"? well, actually, it was Tara that said "bite me," after she'd left the house in sunnyhell (possibly called merrimirth? or was that just the house?) and dragged spike into the saloon/ magic box filled with soon to be singing vampires. That's when they left. just after that. so they are in Regular Sunnydale now.
see page fifteen. i looked it up for you. edited to say: looks like i was beaten to it... darn.

Where's supermus when you need some good cliff's notes?
hope that helps?

[This message has been edited by Owl (edited March 18, 2002).]

Owl
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby wiccachica » Mon Mar 18, 2002 11:42 am

Afternoon Kitties!

Pixie wrote:

quote:
*gives the troll a little scritch on the ears*

Pixie.... little did you know that your innocent 'scritch on the ear' of the troll is an ancient Troll Matrimonial Ceremony dating back before time was time. The troll has told me that you 'scritched' him...and therefore...by the sacred stones of the Troll Nation....you are bound to him in Trolly Matrimony ...he's rather excited...as he is a young troll of only two thousand and three... he has never been scritched before...and isn't sure how his family is going to take a troll/pixie interspecies marriage....

but your new scritching has inspired him and he writes this next one for his...and I quote...'darling new scritchee.....'

I think I'm starting to see a pattern in the troll's storytelling chaos though....so thanks, Pixie......

(as you can see I'm just having too much fun with this fic....)

Afternoon Edition:

Chapter One Hundred and Six: Lapiz Lazuli

" A jaunt to the Carnival...that was brave of you to offer..." Willow says after closing the door behind her. She leans against it...seemingly proud of her ability to block the only real way out of the room...

I am her not-so-relunctant prisoner...and she knows it.

" We all have to face our fears some time….besides….I'm here to PAINT." I say in innocent answer to the unspoken innuendo in her eyes...and to gently put the topic off the carnival and onto the task at hand.

Because just the thought of going to a carnival sends chills down your spine...doesn't it?...But that was so long ago, Tara…..you were what....seven?

I look around the room to see she has already gotten the room ready to paint...Everything has been pulled into the center of the room and covered with tarp....

" You think I asked you to come over and help me just so I could...lay on the old...Willow charm?" She says with mock injury.

If the shoe fits, Baby doll.....and speaking of FITTING...

" You mean to tell me that shirt wasn't PLANNED?" I say with a wry smile. She looks down at her T-shirt.

" This is my painting T-shirt...I've had it since I was twelve...bought it at a thrift store with my own babysitting allowance...." She says smoothing the material possessively....enough to make me blush." I earned ten whole dollars for watching the Tennison Twins next door....they were little demons...let me tell you...." Willow juts out a hip and rolls her eyes to the ceiling... " Come to think of it...this IS the Hellmouth....they probably WERE demons...or at least hatchlings... but back to the topic ....the shirt is mine....I bought it cuz it really freaked Xander out and made him cry...and that was in junior high…which is saying something…."

" It's ...small..." I say...barely able to keep my attention from her bare midriff.

" Well...I suppose I do have a little more...upstairs...than I did when I was twelve...." She says.

You are preaching to the choir, Baby...

" Do you." I say casually.

" You saw fifteen year old me...back when we were at...Mother's....think about THAT chest...and then deduct a training bra....I was flat as a board." She walks over and crouches to pick up a screwdriver.

Well from here...you don't seem to be having a problem in THAT department any more...so...

She pops the top of a can of paint with the deft ability of a professional. She uses a stick to stir it as I drop down beside her. She blows at a strand of her hair away from her face...

" I have paint on my hands...could you...kind of...pull my hair back..." She says this sheepishly...and I can't help but chuckle at how red her face turns when I move behind her and rake her hair back as she stirs the paint.

" Casual conversation about your rack, paint, and a free pass to play with your hair...is this a new method of seduction?" I joke. I see her shrug...but she doesn't say anything. The back of her neck is turning red, and I can feel a heat permeating off her in waves. I lean over her shoulder slightly.... enjoying this heady feeling I have right now... " I love that colour." I say.

It's kind of blue...kind of white...a little bit of cobalt...very nice...

...Very....one of my favourite colours...

" I know... I figure if you like the colour...maybe...you'll...like to come by more...often...you know…stay….longer…" Willow says under her breath. When she turns her head to the side to catch my expression...I can't help but take this opportunity to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

I don't need a nice colour to make me want to be with you, Willow Rosenberg.

" I don't need a nice colour to make me want to be with you." I say into her ear.

She takes another few moments to gather her thoughts before she leans back against me.

" Have I told you yet how you in cut offs is really distracting." She says....and it's my turn to blush. She catches it and goes in for the kill... " I'll bet there are women out there…right now… who would give their eye teeth to see Tara Maclay in a set of shorts like this...maybe money too...lots of money....and here I am with like a front row seat...." I kiss her ear to ease my embarasment by seduction transference..." ...m-maybe...an orchestra seat..." She says rubbing my bare leg with a painty hand. "...o-or a mosh pit...."

Oh a mini Willow babblathon....my favourite...

" Are you just trying to get out of painting?" I say with a chuckle.

She's getting pale blue paint all over my outer thigh....but neither of us seem to notice...

"Actually....no...." Willow says against the side of my neck. "...but I was hoping for a back stage pass....for ....later..."

I truly don't think THAT is going to be a problem...

TBC...

------------------
"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy

" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz

" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)quote:

wiccachica
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby Owl » Mon Mar 18, 2002 12:11 pm

Mazal Tov, Pixie!!!!

*bangs a fork against her glass of tea and screams
"Gorko! Gorko!"
which translates as "Bitter! Bitter!"
i.e. give that troll some sugar so my tea doesn't taste so nasty anymore (it is supposed to be wine, but 'tis a bit early for that...) i.e. give 'im a kiss!

Wiccachica: I am adding wall painting to my list of things that i didn't find sexy before but now do, thanks to you.

Owl
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby willow_thebadasswitch » Mon Mar 18, 2002 12:28 pm

*looks at her walls*
*looks at wiccachica*
*looks back at the walls*
*scratches head*
*scribbles furiously on her to-do list*

------------------
I could go crazy on a night like tonight
When summer's beginning to give up her fight...

willow_thebadasswitch
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby canadian kitty » Mon Mar 18, 2002 1:21 pm

*glances at freshly painted bedroom walls, scratches head and consults equipment list*

Let's see, paint, drop cloths *head scratch* , tape, stir sticks, ahhh forgot the girlfriend. Damn.

The troll wouldn't be interested in a harem would it?

canadian kitty
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby wiccachica » Mon Mar 18, 2002 2:02 pm

Well...canadian kitty...why don't you scritch the troll's ear and find out if a troll harem is the right thing for you...

He wants to know if you can sing like Barbara Streisand...or do a little soft shoe....

And....would it give him Trollish/Canadian status? He very much admires the Canadians....

And....Owl....painting..and....laundry.....hmm...what other household chores can I fiendishly bastardize?

I'll try to think a good one up for you.... (wink)
n

------------------
"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy

" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz

" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)

[This message has been edited by wiccachica (edited March 18, 2002).]

wiccachica
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby canadian kitty » Mon Mar 18, 2002 3:49 pm

Yay! the troll admires Canadians. I guess this means my dowry should include maple syrup, a southwester, pepper spray, an ugly politican, and lots and lots of beer.

And no I don't sing like Barbara or soft shoe but I've been told I braid hair like nobody's business.

Oh and to aid you in your quest to bastardize all things domestic.... well, I've always been fond of dusting cause, you know, there's feathers.

canadian kitty
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby supermus » Mon Mar 18, 2002 3:53 pm

OK, I'm a little lost. What did Willow's spell really do to Tara? Did it fix her soul, return the Osirian essence, or what?
Edited to add: Looking for domestic activities to bastardize? How bout washing dishes? Just full of wet T-Shirt possibilities.

------------------
Spike: I say we go out there and kick a little demon ass! What, can't go without your Buffy, is that it? Too chicken? Let's find her! She is the Chosen One after all. Come on! Vampires! Grrr! Nasty! Let's annihilate them. For justice - and for - the safety of puppies and Christmas, right? Let's *fight* that evil! - Let's *kill* something!

"And of course you can't become if you only say what you would've done. So I missed a million miles of fun"

[This message has been edited by supermus (edited March 18, 2002).]

supermus
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby Kalita » Mon Mar 18, 2002 4:15 pm

quote:
Originally posted by wiccachica:
" I'll bet there are women out there…right now… who would give their eye teeth to see Tara Maclay in a set of shorts like this...maybe money too...lots of money...."

And she'd be right. quote:

Kalita
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby bearskeeper » Mon Mar 18, 2002 4:35 pm

Thanks for the clear-up on the getting back home thing. The fog has lifted!! And geez - why didn't I wait till I have a girlfriend to paint my room?

bearskeeper
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby jomarch » Mon Mar 18, 2002 5:13 pm

Woo Hoo, the weirdeness continues. Thanks Wiccachica. I am so loving these updates.

Ps Since Pixie is marrying the troll, I volunteer to throw the traditional hen party for her! Lots of panties flying about i can gurantee!

jomarch
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby Pixie » Mon Mar 18, 2002 7:23 pm

Wow! I spend all morning on the board, then I go to work, and return to find out I'm married! To the troll! *Pixie looks around in bewilderment at the woncubines circling her in a hora, singing 'mazal tov u'siman tov u'siman tov u'mazal tov, y'hei lanu'*

This is all so sudden. I mean, I was kinda looking for a girl. And I don't think he's Jewish. But he is kinda cute. How will I tell my mother?? What will she be more upset over - that I'm married to a troll, or that she didn't get to come to the wedding?

jomarch, do you promise there will be lots of panties at the hen party?

(man, the things we do for fic!)

wiccachica, the thought of Willow and Tara in cut-off shorts has me feeling all tingly! mmmm...painting. This is oddly disturbing.

And I'm all for the use of other household activities. Definitely dusting (mmm...feathers) or dishwashing (we know from Ruth's fic about the joys of water). I know we already did laundry, but what about hanging laundry on clotheslines in the sun - lots of opportunity for sweet smells and sexy silhouettes behind the sheets.

Pixie
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby jomarch » Mon Mar 18, 2002 7:44 pm

Oh, Pixie-hon. We will be wearing and throwing the following http://www2.victoriassecret.com/collect ... SPNTSNPZZZ just for you and that lucky troll.
jomarch
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby Pixie » Mon Mar 18, 2002 8:13 pm

quote:
Originally posted by jomarch:
Oh, Pixie-hon. We will be wearing and throwing the following http://www2.victoriassecret.com/collect ... SPNTSNPZZZ just for you and that lucky troll.

Uh.... * * (Pixie's empty head right now) You'll be wearing...th..those? *drool* Who am I marrying?quote:

Pixie
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby LeatherQueen » Mon Mar 18, 2002 8:40 pm

Yay WC!! Loverly more weirdness. Let it abound and go forth and multiply.

And oh goody, we'll finally find out what's the what with the Willows.

And yeah, I gotta agree. I'd pay really, really good money to see Tara in those shorts. Especially up close.

------------------
"Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind." -Glory

LeatherQueen
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby katydid » Tue Mar 19, 2002 8:13 am

I never knew painting could be so sexy. More painting!!

------------------
"She practically has 'genuine molded plastic' stamped on her ass.

katydid
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby wiccachica » Tue Mar 19, 2002 9:07 am

Good Morning Kitties!

First a little Beck and Call:

canadian kitty... The troll imagines himself sporting foxy new dreads and drinking Canadian beer...and he quickly offers a fuzzy ear for you to scritch...

Supermus... If the troll is telling it right to me...Tara was strong enough to hold onto her soul(s)...The Osirian patch was the only thing taken in the onslaught...and that more will be explained ...as will the duo of Willow still missing from the picture... I'll give you a hint though...the Willow's are plotting something....

Bearskeeper....I was going to go into a beautiful monologue about the benifits of painting one's own room...but...I can't stop giggling...I'm soooo mature.....

LeatherQueen and Katydid... Maybe...just maybe...I can bribe the troll into putting our girl back in those shorts again later...It may take some convincing...and some creative backpeddling...but we'll see....

Jomarch....Those Victoria's panties....can I say most eloquently....buh...gah...meh...he...beh...(brain fritzes and shuts down)

Pixie...The troll hears that you wanted a girl....and now he's panicked and unsure what he can do to make you happy.... He has asked my advice on how to make a Pixie-who-likes-girls happy during the first few months of scritch...I suggested he be a little more sensative...and write a few fluffy...lovey-dovey fic sections to examine his inner female troll...

He gave me the troll-off ( a gesture I am unable to explain in a PG-13 thread) And ran back to his computer...

I'm afraid I might have insulted his fragile troll masculinity...so fully expect the sort of piece that trolls do best....

Dark...confusing...and well....here it is now.....

Chapter One Hundred and Seven: What's Fair is Fair...

Click---scrape.

The little girl is running...running...her legs ache...her chest is tight...her lungs on fire...but she does not stop....no...

She does not stop...because…if she stops...she'll hear the sound again...the sound of something coming relentlessly closer...

The sound of something coming to get her...to take her away....because it can see something that others cannot...

It can see into her eyes..into her thoughts…and it knows what's hiding there...what she is...

And that is exactly why it wants her…

Click----scrape---click----scrape. And it keeps coming....doggedly....

And the little girl runs... her pink shoes clapping against the hardwood floor...her heart throbbing in her ears...threatening to drown out that awful sound....

Click----scrape----click----scrape

WHAM!

Unable to stop her forward momentum any other way...the little girl hits the mirror with the palms of her hands...hard enough to start the wall of glass warbling. She takes only a brief second to recognize her own face before her...frightened...stark...and sheened with sweat....Then.... she makes an immediate left...and has to pick up speed again...

WHAM!

Another mirror shudders under her hands...... She turns.....

WHAM!

And another.... she has run right into a trap…..

Click----scrape----click----scrape----

She has run out of places to go....

Click----scrape----click----scrape----

Trapped....The little girl is unable to move...unable to scream...unable to call for her mother....

Click----scrape----click----scrape----

She presses her back against the nearest mirror...at least it cannot come from behind her…

And when it comes for her...she will be able to see it...she will memorize it...

Click----scrape----click----scrape----

The little girl ...despite her need to see her pursuer....closes her eyes tightly.

Dozens upon dozens of little mirror girls throughout the corridor close their eyes with her....

Click----scrape----click----scrape----

The little girl covers her ears...

If I try hard enough...If I want to bad enough...I can leave here...I can get away....

Click----scrape----click----scrape----

If I want it...If I want it to...happen.....If I.....really want it to.....

***

" Tara...Honey....wake up....you're having a bad dream.....come on...." I say...hoping my voice brings her back to the world....

She thrashes for a few more seconds until she recognizes my arms around her...my lips against her ear...speaking to her in dulcet tones...trying to rouse her loudly enough for her to hear...but not the rest of the house.

We're on the couch...the room too full of paint fumes to sleep in....and right now she has a death grip on the side of the couch...her eyes squeezed shut...her lips pursed tight....

" I...w-want...I....w-want...." She moans under her breath to her phantom dream attacker.

The feeling of her shuddering in my arms had brough me out of sleep...now she was sweating...and shaking...and razing her head from side to side on the pillow in grand negation....

I stroke her hair out of her face...away from her damp brow....

" I want...." She moans...quieter this time....the dream subsiding....

" Tara?" I whisper again...and this time she hears me. She lays completely still...gathering her thoughts...and her stregnth....

" I wanted it...and it happened....it did....I got away....." She murmurs...half awake. I pull her tighter to me with one arm.

" You're here with me...you're safe...." I croon...trying to bring her all the way back to me.

"I'm never safe..." She says softly.... " Never...be...."

And then she drifts back into another dream...one not filled with the demons that haunt her some nights when she sleeps ...

And I am left in the dark....

In all senses of the word.

TBC...


------------------
"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy

" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz

" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)

[This message has been edited by wiccachica (edited March 19, 2002).]

wiccachica
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby Pixie » Tue Mar 19, 2002 9:26 am

Uh...wow! It's a good thing I spent some time over the weekend inspecting my harness and making sure all the straps and buckles were ship-shape. And I'm sorry I caused the troll to panic...but we certainly got a great update out of it. (And yes, Canadian Kitty, this clinches it. You were right - I am a completely amoral fic-whore.)
Pixie
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby jomarch » Tue Mar 19, 2002 10:00 am

Its 1 in the morning here and insomnia is back but so is your update. Yahhh insomnia. PS Wiccachica, please tell brain not to shut down, we need the late morning, afternoon, late afternoon, evening, just incase you're still there updates .
*note to self, stop posting Victoria Secret links*
jomarch
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby wiccachica » Tue Mar 19, 2002 11:38 am

Good Afternoon, Kitties!

Jomarch...though panties may prove to slow me down...I am never at a loss for long...I'm a babbler...we are hardly ever hampered by undies....(pun...sooo not intended)

Afternoon Edition:

Chapter One Hundred and Eight: Happy Legs...

Stir….stir…stir…

Dance….dance…. dance…

Bump a drawer closed with a hip….turn a burner on…

I am the mistress of mastication…the diva of dining…goddess of goodies….!!!

The dish of the morning: Peanut butter and squash eggs rancheros ala Dawn….my own invention.

I clatter around under the sink for another pan to house my capers and cheese hashed browns…
Whistling a tuneless song under my breath.

Why am I so happy, you ask? Why…because I wake up this morning to find my favourite Willow and Tara all cuddly-like on the couch… Tara curled into the crook of Willow’s arm like a kitten…her arms around the redhead’s waist…and the content sleeping smile on Willow’s face….well….

It warms the cockles of my heart…well whatever the cockles are and frankly… WHEREVER my cockles are located …I’m sure they are toasty warm right now…

" Morning…" A sleepy voice says behind me, and I whip around… Tara looks blearily at my culinary endeavors. She’s wearing a pair of flannel smiling-moon bottoms and a too-big T-shirt that proclaims that she is a: WORLD CLASS SNUGGLE BUNNY…

" I woke you up…I’m sorry…" I say, and she shakes her head and walks over to the stove where she examines my egg masterpiece…her expression unreadable.

" …Nope…I’ve been awake off and on all night…right now…I’m on…" She says.

She does look a little extra tired around the edges…and not the happy…’ spent all night in smoochies with Willow’ way…but more of a ‘distracted…bruisey coloured circles under the eyes’ way….

" You feeling okay?" I ask. She turns the heat down and stirs at my eggs to either keep them from burning or to keep them from escaping…I’m not sure which.

" Yeah…just…not sleeping so good…"

" Bad dreams?" I ask her…and she lifts her head slowly to look at me…as though she might have remembered something…something coming right up to the surface…..

…And then it is gone…slipping back into the murky depths… and then she rewards me with a dazed smile.

" I guess…maybe so…I can’t recall…" She says earnestly.

" Well….once I make you breakfast…you’ll be as good as new…" I motion for her to sit down with a wave of my spatula.

When she finally sits on a stool at the counter…I see her expression faze away again…

" Are you going to be up for the carnival tonight?" I ask… worried about her.

She blinks at me…then smiles again…this one…even less convincing…

" Of course…I wouldn’t miss it for the world…" She says.

" Miss what for the world…?" Willow asks…breezing into the kitchen and up behind Tara to put her arm’s around the blond woman’s waist with a comfortable sweetness that sends my cockles all warmy again.

" The carnival tonight…" Tara explains…stroking Willow’s arms with a soft smile…

" Ohh…the CARNIVAL….you know…we don’t have to go if you’re not ready to…you know…take something like that on…" Willow says…

" Did I miss something? Is there something wrong with the carnival?" I ask.

" ALL carnivals…Tara has a healthy fear of fairs…." Willow says…defending her honey.

" A fear which I’m willing and old enough to face." Tara points out to me…after catching my look of surprise.

" W-what made you so scared of them?" I ask…feeling oddly guilty about staging a trip to a place that terrifies someone I love in the first place…

Tara’s expression fades back into that look…like she’s pressing very hard to remember what it is…and the harder she presses…the farther away the answer gets….

" I got lost in one when I was a little girl…and…and…well…that’s it…I guess….See? Silly isn’t it…?" She says to me. Willow kisses her cheek from behind, and disengages from her to go and check out what’s cooking on the stove.

" Uhm…Dawnie…?" Willow says..staring transfixed at the pan before her…

"Yeah?" I ask.

" Breakfast is gray, Honey…" She says…

But I am hardly paying attention…I am watching Tara fall back into quiet contemplation…her blue eyes fall out of focus…her jaw muscles throb as though she’s clenching her teeth…and she doesn’t seem aware that she is twisting her hands in her lap…

Something is going on here…I’m not stupid…She looks more than distracted or tired…she looks…tense…scared….

She looks….TRAPPED…

TBC…

------------------
"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy

" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz

" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)

wiccachica
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby sinfaery » Tue Mar 19, 2002 12:43 pm

Ok, I'm a lurker - I admit it! No shame, no shame. But, Wicca, I'm just compelled! I am loving this fiction.

COCKELLS!!!! Hehehehe! such a great word,... but then your fic has been full of delightful cockell warming phrases,...

Wicca, you, m'dear, are truly the diva of plots well made. You just simply rock

sin

[This message has been edited by sinfaery (edited March 19, 2002).]

sinfaery
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby canadian kitty » Tue Mar 19, 2002 1:46 pm

quote:
Originally posted by Pixie:
(And yes, Canadian Kitty, this clinches it. You were right - I am a completely amoral fic-whore.)

Trust me. Admitting that around here will only get you more friends and panties.

And I also was not aware the troll was male. But hey, as part of the harem I'm sure you and I could find some way to satisfy our girlish, umm, need. You know. In between scritches. so with your blessing I will officially scritch the troll.

Wiccachica: cockles? LOL. you can never hear that word too much.

quote:

canadian kitty
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby wiccachica » Tue Mar 19, 2002 2:33 pm

Hi sinfaery...Yeah ... the word cockles hit a funny bone in a dream I had last night...had to use it today...I woke up laughing (which I actually do A LOT)...does that make me weird?

canadian kitty...oh how to explain the complexity that is the troll....I'm like the troll's inner female...and he is my...inner...well... troll...

but we are still trying to decide who is the figment of imagination for whom...

I vote for me....of course...

and congratulations on your enscritchment...you are now Mrs. C-kitty Trolloskovic.

Cheers!

and as for sexy household chores...what about vacuuming...I mean...wow...all those attatchm....(whack!)

My inner nun just smacked the bahoohas right outta me....

*walking the straight and narrow...with a few not-so-straight wobbles....*

n

------------------
"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy

" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz

" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)

wiccachica
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby MoMack » Tue Mar 19, 2002 2:38 pm

quote:
Originally posted by canadian kitty:

Wiccachica: cockles? LOL. you can never hear that word too much.


That and "mastication." I'm so mature that that word has NEVER failed to make me giggle like I'm in a junior high sex-ed class!

------------------
Like love-making, this is something best done by myself. ~Karen (Will and Grace)
quote:

MoMack
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby bearskeeper » Tue Mar 19, 2002 4:08 pm

I'm glad I'm not the only one who giggled at mastication! I swear, I did a double take just to make sure it wasn't another...different word. You know?
bearskeeper
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby canadian kitty » Tue Mar 19, 2002 4:25 pm

I'm a biology grad student and I use the word 'organism' quite often in papers. Believe me, that word gets more than just a run through the spell check before I hand in the paper.
canadian kitty
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby wiccachica » Tue Mar 19, 2002 4:49 pm

As long as we realize that we are all Masticating organisms.

I, for one, masticate frequently while at work or writing....or watching TV....or doing laundry....

oh heavens.... my innocent mind is heading into a treacherous place....

You are all a bad influence on me.

just....(can't help grinning) ...terrible....

------------------
"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy

" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz

" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)

wiccachica
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby Sassette » Tue Mar 19, 2002 7:38 pm

Ahhh ... wiccachica ... I'm so glad to see updates! And I'm REALLY looking forward to where the bizarre-weirdness goes next.

*grabs tight to her inner-weirdo and hangs on for dear life*

-Sassette

Sassette
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby Pixie » Tue Mar 19, 2002 7:45 pm

quote:
Originally posted by wiccachica:
canadian kitty...oh how to explain the complexity that is the troll....I'm like the troll's inner female...and he is my...inner...well... troll...

but we are still trying to decide who is the figment of imagination for whom...

I vote for me....of course...

and congratulations on your enscritchment...you are now Mrs. C-kitty Trolloskovic.


Wiccachica, is this sort of like the man who dreamt he was a butterfly dreaming he was a man?

Um, do I get a new name, too?

Hey, Canadian Kitty! Does this mean we're...co-wives? Since we're so...y'know...close...I think we can definitely work in some...satisfaction...

And jeez! cockles....mastication...organism....you guys are so immature! (heheheh)

*waves to Sass*quote:

Pixie
 


The Late Shift (FIC)

Postby wiccachica » Wed Mar 20, 2002 11:15 am

Good Day Kitties!

Sorry this is so late today...but I tried to actually get the troll to write a section at home last night...and the whole pre-thought-out stuff just doesn't work so it was scrapped....and of course today I got a late start.... but enough excuses...

Sass... Welcome home, Dear...You were very missed (as I'm sure you saw). Yeah....be prepared to be weirded....I am sensing the troll in his new scritching status will delight us all with ULTRA strange stuff soon....

Pixie... OF COURSE you get a new name too.... Pixie Trolloskovic has a FABU ring to it...doesn't it? Say it out loud a few times...

and it looks like you and CK are going to be sharing a Troll.... congrats...I'll stop by the old moss cave and bring gifts.... (okay...consider yourself completely INTO this if you actually SAID it out loud a few times...)

Now...on with the show...

Chapter One Hundred and Nine: Catching the Red Eye….

In the near distance…the rumble-clatter-roar of rides…the disjunct howl of hundreds of thrill seekers…the clamorous metzcla of music….and the blaze of thousands of lights battling against the night…

Six friends make their way down the street to the carnival.

Xander jumps from the curb to the gutter with the practiced athletic dexterity of a clumsy mime.

I watch him stumble twice…and catch himself before he takes a header into the street. Attempting to cover up his bumble…he decides to boggle us all with babble.

" I’m really not too keen on the whole clown thing…you know…It’s not so much that I’m AFRAID…but I …could be…you know…a little…not trusting…I don’t have a lot of trust to work with…" He says.

" Do carnivals even have clowns? I thought they were strictly a scary circus thing…" Dawn says, sans Janice…who ended up with a serious case of a ‘ mandatory cousin’s birthday party syndrome’ and couldn’t come.

" Carnivals are more like…rides…and booths…and food…and funhouses…." Buffy adds brightly.

" Don’t forget the freakshow…there’s always a freakshow…" Xander says.

" I don’t think they call them freakshows anymore…Xander…I think its something like House of Oddities….you know…a little less with the calling nice people who happen to be different from us, freaks…" Willow corrects, taking my hand and giving me a reassuring smile.

Why am I so nervous? What could possibly be so bad about rides and games…and funny houses….? Listen to that…it’s the sound of happiness…of revelry….

I return her smile…I give her hand a squeeze and wink at her for good measure….

Last thing I want is to have her all nervous too…

So what’s making you come here, Tara? Do you sense it? That PULL in the center of your gut…that one that makes you WANT to be here…even though your better senses tell you that you have every right to be afraid of what you cannot remember….

As we turn off of Main Street…all other sounds of the night dim under the weight of the fair.
I can see a Ferris wheel arching against the night sky…. A handful of bright red gondolas swinging gleefully … They swing autonomously of each other…. like small red bells keyed into various songs almost a hundred feet in the air.

" Okay…first thing I want you to take me on… is THAT." Willow says conspiritally in my ear. " Nothing I can think of better than a kiss from you at the very top of the world."

I smile despite my previous distracting thoughts.

" What are you two whispering about over there?" Buffy chides with an all-knowing smirk.

Willow casts her an innocent look.

" I was just saying that Tara here should watch Cheata McCheat Vampire Slayer over here rake in the major game prizes…like she always does when faced with games of skill…"

" I can’t help it if I’m the slayer…" Buffy says with a shrug…" But if it makes you feel any better…being this wonderful does seriously take the fun out of winning all the time…" She winks at us.

" Aww..Poor Buffy…" I say in mock pity.

" Poor me, indeed." She says definitively.

And just then the entire Carnival slides easily into our view…and I almost stop under the weight of it.

I KNOW this place…

It’s your imagination, Tara….It is…don’t be ridiculous…you have never seen this carnival before in your life…

I recognize the arched entrance….the gates hued crimson under the enormous neon red eye. The setting of the fairgrounds beyond those gates…like….deja-vu….

For a moment…my thoughts swim…and my head aches…

But then again….it may all just be in your head…a little crossed-lines action with some scary carnival movie from the eighties….

But if there is one thing I have learned from recent experiences..it is that the colour red means trouble….

Well…except perhaps for red rotating beds…now those are all right….

" Is it just me, or does any one else look at that big ol eye and say…eek…" Dawn says, interrupting my thoughts…

" Here-here." Xander agrees.

" I think it’s rather…cute…." Anya remarks. We all look at her and she shrugs. " In a slightly…spooky red glowing eye way…."

Willow gives my hand another squeeze.

" You okay for this ?" She asks.

I manage to look totally ‘okay for this’, and nod.

" You’re safe with me…remember that…you are safe with ALL of us…We are here for you, Sweetie…" She says. Everyone around me agrees wholeheartedly and I feel the warmth of family surge through me…

" I know..." I say.

But you aren’t safe here…are you Tara…and as long as they are with you…they may not be safe either….you could be pulling them into a trap…and look at you…you don’t even have the strength to stop …Leading them inside…. like lambs to the slaughter….

TBC…


------------------
"You're *NOT* the source of me." - Buffy

" I mock you with my monkey pants!" -Oz

" Tremble!" Gachnar (Fear Itself)

[This message has been edited by wiccachica (edited March 20, 2002).]

wiccachica
 

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