Title: School's Out
Fandom: BtVS
Characters: Xander, Cordelia
Warnings: R rating, spoiler for end of S3

School's out for summer
School's out forever
School's been blown to pieces "We're taking a moment," Oz said. "And, we're done ( Read more... )

Well, go on down to Jackson; go ahead and wreck your health.
Go play your hand you big-talkin' man, make a big fool of yourself,
You're goin' to Jackson; go comb your hair!
Honey, I'm gonna snowball Jackson.
See if I care.

Xander slid the cue through his fingers.

The tip tapped ever so gently on the cue ball.

But they'll laugh at you in ( Read more... )

"You're a lifesaver," Xander told Amy Madison, outside the second floor boy's bathroom ( Read more... )

"Oh, XNR, I cannot stop myself!" Lady Anne cries, her dress floating down about her ankles to reveal a lithe body in stays and stockings.

"Madame, calm yourself," I beg her. "It would not work out. You are a lady of the Quality. I am a fusion-powered battle tank."

"I have heard hussars are...lusty." A coquettish smile plays over her lips. "And ( Read more... )

I roam through Sunnydale. A whirlwind of death. The hand of Shiva upon earth. Through the sewers, the alleys, the graveyards. And now, to the hive of scum and villainy that is the putrescent center of evil in this town. "Willy's". The front door receives a blast from my Hellbore. The denizens within cower when I enter through the fire and smoke.

" ( Read more... )

Alexander Lavelle Harris. Seventeen years old, dark hair, hazel eyes, 1.803 meters tall in a lanky body more akin to a scarecrow than anything else. An academic record at Sunnydale High reveals a grade average clinging to a C by its fingertips. A scan of police records finds almost weekly visits by the police to his home over domestic disturbance ( Read more... )

"My true name is...Buffy?" Lady Anne asks, walking beside me. Somehow, she had acquired a parasol out of thin air. "I find this hard to believe. Such a name is so...common."

"I doubt," I say, easing around a corner to scan for Enemy, "that in any incarnation you would be common."

"Why, Lieutenant, you flirt with me." Lady Anne twirls the parasol ( Read more... )

Since my first encounter a half an hour ago, I have managed to: escort thirty three unaffected inhabitants to safety; hack the town's police radio band to best direct the rather incompetent law enforcement resources to best effect; and eliminated ten true demons. The lack of Enemy about is puzzling, but welcome.

A scream from a nearby alley. ( Read more... )

While I ponder for a few seconds on my options, I assume a strategic hull down position in front of a vital resource. Several bags of candy had been dropped by fleeing denizens of Sunnydale. They require guarding. Sweet, sweet delicious candy.

Mmmmmm.

( To battle....and candy! )

A quick explanation: BOLOs are ungodly huge sentient tanks of the far future in a series of novels and stories written by Keith Laumer. Essentially, the equivalent of a Star Trek warship with treads, an AI with a "knight errant" personality, and the size of a few city blocks. And that's the small ones ( Read more... )