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Sep. 19th, 2008 08:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liptonrm_backupSPAM DAY
So, it's always kind of funny when I use my iPod in conjunction with my parents. Like driving to Richmond or when the Mum came over earlier this week (she was 'helping me clean.' It's all kind of crazy and annoying). It makes me listen to my music with new ears and, man, I listen to a lot of semi-depressing music, at best bittersweet. Except for things like 'Back in Black' and 'Renegade,' but you get the idea.
Speaking of music, after law school is over and I have some more spendable cash I totally want to buy a guitar and take some lessons. The thought of being able to just sit on my front porch and play a guitar and sing is very appealing. Plus a guitar is a lot easier to haul around than a piano. I don't quite have the powerhouse voice I used to have but I can still carry a freaking tune.
And then I can move out to Seattle and start playing in coffee shops, or maybe I just need to stop listening to so much Dar Williams and Joan Baez. ;-)
I watched Pan's Labyrinth this afternoon. Anyone who doubts that Guillermo Del Toro is the right guy to direct The Hobbit really needs to watch that movie. It's splendid and haunting and really sad. Oh.My.Gosh. Just, OMG.
Okay, you know what? I'm feeling particularly cracky tonight. I wonder why. *looks in SPN's general direction* I'm just going to post this, self-respect be damned. This is what happens when I read fun little stories where Giles and Bobby know each other.
~~~
December 1997
Buffy was bored. Oh how bored Buffy was. Buffy was the boringest bore who’d ever bored.
She sighed loud and pushed her chair back from the table, the wooden legs screeching across the linoleum. Both Giles and Willow glanced up at her, identical perturbed expressions on their faces. “Sorry,” she rolled her eyes. “But I’m the slayer, shouldn’t I be doing something a little more slay-y and a little less, ‘My god, my god, I’m so bored my brains are dripping out of my ears?’"
Giles sighed that long, tired sigh that was a surefire signal of how dearly he missed the cold, rain-drenched moors where no teenagers had ever walked, or whatever England was really like. “There is more to slaying than the killing. As Kendra proved when she was here, a knowledge of your enemy, all of your possible enemies, can be extremely useful.” He punctuated the entire sentence with a good, thorough, cleaning of his glasses.
Buffy rolled her eyes again. “How could I forget anything about Kendra, the epitome of all that is right and holy?”
“Come on, Buffy,” Willow cajoled, “Giles didn’t mean it like that.” She pushed the tome she’d been reading across the table in Buffy’s direction. “Here, I think you’ll like this one. It’s all about K’R’Elnath demons and how their testicles are on their knees.”
Buffy’s eyes widened in horror. There was TMI and then there was demonic TMI and it never stopped being beyond disgusting.
The library doors banged open and Buffy sighed in relief. She was light years past desperate if the sight of Cordelia’s perfectly tousled hair was cause for jubilation.
“ … And I don’t know what kind of a statement he was trying to make but that dirty old trucker hat was beyond passé. And that girl was wearing flannel. Grunge was not acceptable even before Kurt Cobain swallowed a pool.”
“Oh no,” Xander quipped as he collapsed in a gangly sprawl in the chair next to Buffy. “Somebody alert the media, someone’s dared to offend Cordelia’s delicate sensibilities.”
“They’re not my sensibilities, they’re the minimum standard of decent society. If you’re going to leave your house you have a duty to at least make an effort. That red flannel combined with those jeans,” Cordelia shuddered. “It’s like Willow’s stepped right out of Vogue in comparison.”
“Was there a reason you felt the deep and uncontrollable need to descend on us and inform us of these unforgivable sins?” Giles asked, strained expression complete with added bridge-of-the-nose-pinching action; a clear 8 on the annoyed-Giles meter.
“Yes, we did,” Xander resolutely replied and gave Cordelia a look quelling enough to actually shut her mouth, for once. “Some old guy and a girl were looking for directions to the library. I sent them to the pool to buy us the time to give you a head’s up.”
Buffy perked up. “Do you think it’s something I can slay? I hope it’s something I get to slay.”
“Did they give you their names?” Giles asked slowly, like he was talking to a 3 year-old.
Xander shook his head. “Nah, but the old guy had on a dirty trucker hat, like Cordy said. His hair was kinda long-ish and he had a scruffy beard. The girl was a little older than us, maybe, and apparently the worst thing to happen to fashion since the leisure suit.”
“It was worse than a leisure suit,” Cordelia sniped.
“Hmmm, I wonder...” Giles muttered under his breath and got up from the table. He headed straight for his office a distracted look on his face.
“I’m totally gonna get to slay something,” Buffy crowed.
“What do you think it is?” Willow mused, a gleam in her eye. “Maybe it’s a necromancer. How neat would that be?”
“You have one twisted definition of neat,” Xander smirked. “That is so the adorablest.”
The library doors banged open again and Buffy jumped up from her chair. Adrenaline started pumping through her veins, the Slayer in her element.
“Here’s the library,” Jonathan chattered beside the grizzled guy who met Xander’s description to a tee. “I don’t know why anyone would send you to the complete opposite end of campus.”
“I’m sure they had their reasons.” The old guy glanced around the library, pausing momentarily on Xander before turning back to Jonathan. “Thanks a bunch, son, you were a big help.”
Jonathan swelled under the approving tone and the warm grin the girl gave him certainly didn’t hurt. She might’ve been dressed like a hobo but she wasn’t exactly malformed, or anything. He pretty much floated out of the library.
“Howdy,” the old guy said, stepping further into the library, the girl right at his back. “We’re lookin’ for Rupert Giles.”
Buffy stepped out from behind the table and stopped a few steps away from them. She balanced her weight on the balls of her feet. She was just itching for a fight. “What do you want with him?”
Trucker Hat gave her a long, steady look and nodded, like she’d done just what he thought she would. The girl behind him tensed, fingers twitching at her sides.
Old Guy stepped back, hands spread. “Hey, now, it’s all okay, your librarian and I-”
“Bobby,” Giles greeted cheerfully as he stepped out of his office, diffusing the tension that he didn’t seem to notice. “It’s wonderful to see you. Whatever are you doing in California?”
“Hey, Rupert,” Trucker Hat, or Bobby, or whatever, grinned. “The girl and I were in the area on business, thought you could give us a hand.” He stepped forward and they shook hands agreeably.
“Of course. I’d be more than happy to assist you. What are you looking in to?” Giles bustled Bobby back towards his office, a rare smile on his face.
Four pairs of eyes immediately honed in on the other interloper. She grinned at them, a little uncomfortably. She pulled out a chair at the other table and sat down, lifting the strap of her bag over her head as she did so.
“Hi,” she waved at them.
As one they all stood up and descended on her table. Buffy sat closest to her and was pleased to see how she glanced at Giles’s office door, a cornered look in her eye.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Buffy asked, her tone beyond serious. A little slaying might still be in order.
The girl gulped. “I’m Rachel and, well, it’s just like Bobby said, we were in the area on business and thought Mr. Giles could help us out.”
“What kind of business?” Buffy knew from interrogation and she wasn’t letting this one off easy.
“And how could Giles help you?” Cordelia interjected. “You, like, drive a semi, or something, don’t you?”
“Cordy,” Xander admonished, a hand on her arm. “Let Buffy handle the weirdos.”
Cordelia sighed and pouted but thankfully kept her mouth shut.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Buffy continued, drawing all of the attention back to her.
“I guess you could say we’re in pest control,” Rachel replied, a wry curl to her lip.
“You’re a slayer,” Willow exploded, her eyes wide.
Buffy narrowed her eyes and glared at Racehl. “What happened to Kendra?”
Rachel waved her hands and shook her head. “No, no, no, I’m not a slayer, absolutely not. Just your normal, average, eighteen year-old girl.”
“But, but, you’re obviously looking for something supernatural,” Willow stuttered. “And that guy Bobby’s totally your watcher, that’s how he knows Giles. You have to be a slayer.”
“Except I’m totally not. Yeah, we’re hunting down something nasty, but we’re just regular people.” Rachel grimaced. “Well, as regular as anyone who hunts things of the creepy-crawly variety.”
“All righty, then, to recap,” Xander interrupted before anyone could start throwing punches. “You and Bobby are on the trail of some baddy, you’re not a slayer and he’s not a watcher, and you came to Giles looking for a little intel.” He glanced around the table and grinned. “So what can we do?
~~~
And you know what's great? I'm posting on Friday night so even if I should be ashamed of myself it won't matter because no one's around to see it.
Speaking of writing, I have exactly one section left to write and A Family Business will be completely and utterly done. It only took me a year to write it.
I guess I should get on that.
So, it's always kind of funny when I use my iPod in conjunction with my parents. Like driving to Richmond or when the Mum came over earlier this week (she was 'helping me clean.' It's all kind of crazy and annoying). It makes me listen to my music with new ears and, man, I listen to a lot of semi-depressing music, at best bittersweet. Except for things like 'Back in Black' and 'Renegade,' but you get the idea.
Speaking of music, after law school is over and I have some more spendable cash I totally want to buy a guitar and take some lessons. The thought of being able to just sit on my front porch and play a guitar and sing is very appealing. Plus a guitar is a lot easier to haul around than a piano. I don't quite have the powerhouse voice I used to have but I can still carry a freaking tune.
And then I can move out to Seattle and start playing in coffee shops, or maybe I just need to stop listening to so much Dar Williams and Joan Baez. ;-)
I watched Pan's Labyrinth this afternoon. Anyone who doubts that Guillermo Del Toro is the right guy to direct The Hobbit really needs to watch that movie. It's splendid and haunting and really sad. Oh.My.Gosh. Just, OMG.
Okay, you know what? I'm feeling particularly cracky tonight. I wonder why. *looks in SPN's general direction* I'm just going to post this, self-respect be damned. This is what happens when I read fun little stories where Giles and Bobby know each other.
~~~
December 1997
Buffy was bored. Oh how bored Buffy was. Buffy was the boringest bore who’d ever bored.
She sighed loud and pushed her chair back from the table, the wooden legs screeching across the linoleum. Both Giles and Willow glanced up at her, identical perturbed expressions on their faces. “Sorry,” she rolled her eyes. “But I’m the slayer, shouldn’t I be doing something a little more slay-y and a little less, ‘My god, my god, I’m so bored my brains are dripping out of my ears?’"
Giles sighed that long, tired sigh that was a surefire signal of how dearly he missed the cold, rain-drenched moors where no teenagers had ever walked, or whatever England was really like. “There is more to slaying than the killing. As Kendra proved when she was here, a knowledge of your enemy, all of your possible enemies, can be extremely useful.” He punctuated the entire sentence with a good, thorough, cleaning of his glasses.
Buffy rolled her eyes again. “How could I forget anything about Kendra, the epitome of all that is right and holy?”
“Come on, Buffy,” Willow cajoled, “Giles didn’t mean it like that.” She pushed the tome she’d been reading across the table in Buffy’s direction. “Here, I think you’ll like this one. It’s all about K’R’Elnath demons and how their testicles are on their knees.”
Buffy’s eyes widened in horror. There was TMI and then there was demonic TMI and it never stopped being beyond disgusting.
The library doors banged open and Buffy sighed in relief. She was light years past desperate if the sight of Cordelia’s perfectly tousled hair was cause for jubilation.
“ … And I don’t know what kind of a statement he was trying to make but that dirty old trucker hat was beyond passé. And that girl was wearing flannel. Grunge was not acceptable even before Kurt Cobain swallowed a pool.”
“Oh no,” Xander quipped as he collapsed in a gangly sprawl in the chair next to Buffy. “Somebody alert the media, someone’s dared to offend Cordelia’s delicate sensibilities.”
“They’re not my sensibilities, they’re the minimum standard of decent society. If you’re going to leave your house you have a duty to at least make an effort. That red flannel combined with those jeans,” Cordelia shuddered. “It’s like Willow’s stepped right out of Vogue in comparison.”
“Was there a reason you felt the deep and uncontrollable need to descend on us and inform us of these unforgivable sins?” Giles asked, strained expression complete with added bridge-of-the-nose-pinching action; a clear 8 on the annoyed-Giles meter.
“Yes, we did,” Xander resolutely replied and gave Cordelia a look quelling enough to actually shut her mouth, for once. “Some old guy and a girl were looking for directions to the library. I sent them to the pool to buy us the time to give you a head’s up.”
Buffy perked up. “Do you think it’s something I can slay? I hope it’s something I get to slay.”
“Did they give you their names?” Giles asked slowly, like he was talking to a 3 year-old.
Xander shook his head. “Nah, but the old guy had on a dirty trucker hat, like Cordy said. His hair was kinda long-ish and he had a scruffy beard. The girl was a little older than us, maybe, and apparently the worst thing to happen to fashion since the leisure suit.”
“It was worse than a leisure suit,” Cordelia sniped.
“Hmmm, I wonder...” Giles muttered under his breath and got up from the table. He headed straight for his office a distracted look on his face.
“I’m totally gonna get to slay something,” Buffy crowed.
“What do you think it is?” Willow mused, a gleam in her eye. “Maybe it’s a necromancer. How neat would that be?”
“You have one twisted definition of neat,” Xander smirked. “That is so the adorablest.”
The library doors banged open again and Buffy jumped up from her chair. Adrenaline started pumping through her veins, the Slayer in her element.
“Here’s the library,” Jonathan chattered beside the grizzled guy who met Xander’s description to a tee. “I don’t know why anyone would send you to the complete opposite end of campus.”
“I’m sure they had their reasons.” The old guy glanced around the library, pausing momentarily on Xander before turning back to Jonathan. “Thanks a bunch, son, you were a big help.”
Jonathan swelled under the approving tone and the warm grin the girl gave him certainly didn’t hurt. She might’ve been dressed like a hobo but she wasn’t exactly malformed, or anything. He pretty much floated out of the library.
“Howdy,” the old guy said, stepping further into the library, the girl right at his back. “We’re lookin’ for Rupert Giles.”
Buffy stepped out from behind the table and stopped a few steps away from them. She balanced her weight on the balls of her feet. She was just itching for a fight. “What do you want with him?”
Trucker Hat gave her a long, steady look and nodded, like she’d done just what he thought she would. The girl behind him tensed, fingers twitching at her sides.
Old Guy stepped back, hands spread. “Hey, now, it’s all okay, your librarian and I-”
“Bobby,” Giles greeted cheerfully as he stepped out of his office, diffusing the tension that he didn’t seem to notice. “It’s wonderful to see you. Whatever are you doing in California?”
“Hey, Rupert,” Trucker Hat, or Bobby, or whatever, grinned. “The girl and I were in the area on business, thought you could give us a hand.” He stepped forward and they shook hands agreeably.
“Of course. I’d be more than happy to assist you. What are you looking in to?” Giles bustled Bobby back towards his office, a rare smile on his face.
Four pairs of eyes immediately honed in on the other interloper. She grinned at them, a little uncomfortably. She pulled out a chair at the other table and sat down, lifting the strap of her bag over her head as she did so.
“Hi,” she waved at them.
As one they all stood up and descended on her table. Buffy sat closest to her and was pleased to see how she glanced at Giles’s office door, a cornered look in her eye.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Buffy asked, her tone beyond serious. A little slaying might still be in order.
The girl gulped. “I’m Rachel and, well, it’s just like Bobby said, we were in the area on business and thought Mr. Giles could help us out.”
“What kind of business?” Buffy knew from interrogation and she wasn’t letting this one off easy.
“And how could Giles help you?” Cordelia interjected. “You, like, drive a semi, or something, don’t you?”
“Cordy,” Xander admonished, a hand on her arm. “Let Buffy handle the weirdos.”
Cordelia sighed and pouted but thankfully kept her mouth shut.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Buffy continued, drawing all of the attention back to her.
“I guess you could say we’re in pest control,” Rachel replied, a wry curl to her lip.
“You’re a slayer,” Willow exploded, her eyes wide.
Buffy narrowed her eyes and glared at Racehl. “What happened to Kendra?”
Rachel waved her hands and shook her head. “No, no, no, I’m not a slayer, absolutely not. Just your normal, average, eighteen year-old girl.”
“But, but, you’re obviously looking for something supernatural,” Willow stuttered. “And that guy Bobby’s totally your watcher, that’s how he knows Giles. You have to be a slayer.”
“Except I’m totally not. Yeah, we’re hunting down something nasty, but we’re just regular people.” Rachel grimaced. “Well, as regular as anyone who hunts things of the creepy-crawly variety.”
“All righty, then, to recap,” Xander interrupted before anyone could start throwing punches. “You and Bobby are on the trail of some baddy, you’re not a slayer and he’s not a watcher, and you came to Giles looking for a little intel.” He glanced around the table and grinned. “So what can we do?
~~~
And you know what's great? I'm posting on Friday night so even if I should be ashamed of myself it won't matter because no one's around to see it.
Speaking of writing, I have exactly one section left to write and A Family Business will be completely and utterly done. It only took me a year to write it.
I guess I should get on that.
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no subject
Date: 2008-09-23 11:22 am (UTC)You would love playing the guitar. You can sit on the porch of your country getaway and strum.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-10 03:50 pm (UTC)Yeah, stakes are cute and all, but when you want to get the job done a shotgun is totally the way to go. Let's get with the 21st Century, here, people!
You paint a delightful picture. I would very much like the future to be now, plz.