Nobody wants to give me a warning label! It can't be the case that I don't require a warning, can it?
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thefourthvine: BtVS: Ten Years after Sunnydale: Encounters with the Survivors of the Nation's Biggest Natural Disaster.
“Clem”
I know it sounds horrible, but in a way it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I mean, I was—well, I was stuck there, you know? Not living, just existing. Hanging out on the fringes, watching the beautiful people live their exciting lives. When I left, I got a gig with this superfancy cat breeder, and that led to another job that was—let’s just say I’m now in a much better position, really happy with my life.
What? No, I wasn’t there at the very end. Was anybody?
Dawn Summers
No. No, I’m sorry. No, I don’t—No, thank you. (closes door)
Robin Wood
How did you find me?
Well, all right. Obviously, it was a significant trauma. Most of my students got out, but we lost – we lost too many. My thoughts are with the families of those left behind.
Jessica Harris
I try not to think too much about it. I live with my sister now.
I don’t know. I don’t want to know. Tony—Tony was lost a long time before Sunnydale was.
Xander? I got a letter from him, a few months back. An actual letter, the envelope covered with stamps, can you imagine? I guess they don’t have the internet where he is.
Oh, he got mixed up with this whole thing? With the vampires, and the Slayers? He was a very confused boy. He doesn’t mean anything by it. I think—well, I’d better not say anything more about it. I hear those vampires have the best lawyers.
Sheila Rosenberg
I deal with this topic extensively in my book Surviving: How to Cope with the Loss of a Job, a Spouse, or a Child. It’s a very personal work, coming out of my own tragedy. I hope that by telling my story, in combination with the most up-to-date psychological research on the grieving process, I can help others with their struggles.
Harmony Kendall
Are you sure my agent approved this?
Okay!
Well, you know, I was long gone by then. I was in LA, but this was before vampires were hot, so I wasn’t getting many auditions—it’s so awesome that they’ll hold them at night now! Anyway, I saw the pictures, and it was sad, I guess, but you know it was all the fault of the Slayers, right? I mean, they just love to kill stuff, and this was their big chance.
Well, no, I don’t have any ‘direct evidence’ or whatever, but come on! Do you really believe it was just a sinkhole?
No.
Um, I think I’m supposed to say, ‘this interview is over’ now.
Tucker Wells
The town was always cursed. PCP gangs on killing sprees, the principal getting eaten by a snake, all kinds of craziness. It’s better off as a space on the map.
Yeah, I’ve got no idea where the little creep is either. Who cares?
Jack Mayhew
There were heroes there. Oh, there were bad times too. But we always knew that someone was fighting for us. I like to think they won, you know? Even though there’s a hole in the ground that says they didn’t win big.
libgirl: M/S: "It's not what it looks like”
“It’s not what it looks like, Mulder.”
“Are you sure, Scully? Because it looks like you’re reading Harlequin romances, and I’ve got to admit, I’m finding it a little bit of a turn-on.”
She didn’t want to destroy Mulder’s good mood, so rare of late. But he prized honesty more, so: “Melissa had a stack of them. Sometimes she’d write notes in the margins about how ridiculous the characters were.”
Mulder’s face smoothed into blankness, withdrawing out of respect for her pain even though that wasn’t exactly what she wanted. He hesitated, clearly about to make up some errand that would allow him to leave, and she picked up the book at the top of her stack. “I could use some help, finding the annotations.”
There was a moment when Mulder might have left anyway, and then he focused on the title. “‘The Billionaire’s Proud Mistress’? That’s a real book?”
“That’s a job description, Mulder.” She held it out to him, and he took it. “I’m marking all the best notes. She had a wicked sense of humor.”
Mulder nodded, looking down at the book in his hands. She wanted to tell him that he would have liked Melissa, but it wasn’t a truth he needed right now. It would be enough, maybe, that he would get to know Melissa a little better through her words. They’d be able to mourn Melissa together.
And who knows, Mulder might learn something from the emotionally constipated but ultimately tender heroes.
alexseanchai: SPN: The angels are obviously not above using unethical means to persuade Dean...well, Ben Braeden isn't the only person out there who's probably Dean's kid. (Just the only one Dean knows about so far.) And judging by Claire Novak, whatever makes Dean and Sam suitable angelic vessels has even odds (if not a guarantee) of being passed on to Dean's kids...
“Where’s her mom?” Dean demanded, staring at the kid, who looked just like the pictures of Mom as a girl he’d seen at the Campbells’ house. Sara blinked back at him, leaning into Zachariah’s embrace: Dean was a stranger, of course, and she probably wasn't supposed to talk to strangers.
Zachariah shrugged. “She’s gone, now. Lucifer’s minions were as unhappy with Sara’s existence as we were thrilled. Stepdad’s dead too—did you know he adopted her? You humans and your patchwork families. Really loved her, too, judging from how she cried.”
“What do you want?” Dean asked, broken, because he’d seen Claire Novak, and because he’d already let too many Winchesters down.
“Don’t play the fool with me,” Zachariah said sharply. “Sweetheart, are you ready to go with your Uncle Michael?” Sara nodded, trusting as only a child who hadn’t been raised on the road could be. Zachariah met Dean’s eyes again. “She wants to be good. She believes. Not ideal, not like you, but she’ll do better than Lucifer’s current vessel, and at this point I’m willing to settle, if only to piss you off.”
Dean swallowed. “I gotta—Sam, I gotta—”
Zachariah shook his head, closing his eyes briefly in a parody of disappointment. “No, no, sorry. It’s not that we don’t have time for you to say goodbye, it’s just that I don’t like you.”
Dean felt his face pulling into a sneer. “You’re as bad as Lucifer, you know? Worse, because at least he had the stones to rebel. You’re just setting the house on fire ‘cause Daddy’s away.”
“Sara?” Zachariah invited, and the girl opened her mouth.
“Yes,” Dean said, and prayed to a dead God that Sam would understand.
eclectic: girl!Dean, surprise visit to Sam, Stanford era.
When she tracked Sam down, he was walking with a bunch of other college kids, though obviously he was easy to pick out given that he was the only one tall enough to double as Chewbacca. Dee was just going to run up to him and throw himself into his arms, letting Sam explain who she was—it would be awesome to see him squirm.
But then she saw the girl next to Sam, only a couple of inches shorter than him. Hair the same color as Dee’s, wavy like hers but cut so that it would look great hanging loosely around her shoulders instead of needing to be pulled back in a ponytail so as not to get in the way of a fight. Her clothes were a couple of chains up the ladder from the Salvation Army. Smiling, linking her arm with Sam’s, on top of the world.
Dee didn’t know a damn thing about her (not true: she knew what Sam liked, smart and funny and normal-normal-normal), but she hated that girl as much as she hated vengeful spirits. Only vengeful spirits were out of place, and this girl was exactly where she belonged, so it was Dee who was in the wrong.
There was nothing here for her. Swallowing, she backed away before Sam could sense the scrutiny. She didn’t need Sam’s help on a simple ghost hunt; Dad had only hinted that she might look in on Sam while she was in the area, and he wouldn’t say anything more if she didn’t mention Sam in her report.
Sam had his world and Dee had hers. Dee couldn’t change that, couldn’t ever be that girl, laughing and able to match Sam word for word.
There was nothing for it but to do what she did, which was to head back to the car and turn on the music, driving until the worst of the sting faded with the steady roar of the engine and the thump of the chords.
Dad had said he had a line on the demon. Best thing she could do was gank the ghost and get back together with Dad as soon as possible. It’d almost be like taking care of Sam again, even if he didn’t know it.
Blowing out a breath, she checked the gas. She’d be in Sacramento soon, maybe hustle a little cash, treat herself to a movie or something before heading to the library.
It wasn’t like she had anybody to explain herself to.
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niangao: SV + Kon from DC canon
Clark ignored Lex just as he’d ignored all the security measures on his way into LexCorp. “What’s this?” He shoved the paper nearly into Connor’s face, until Connor used his TK to grab it and actually take a look.
“Um, it’s a—lawsuit? I thought you had some kind of immunity from those, right?” Connor blinked up at him innocently, except that Connor’s innocent face had to have been inherited from the human side of his genome, because it suggested an inherent underlying guilt.
“Only for state torts,” Lex interjected smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “This is a federal claim. Connor doesn’t know anything about it,” he added as they both turned to stare at him.
“You had your foundation register the trademark to Superman!” Clark had known that Lex had to be behind this; he was just worried that Connor was still too far under the man’s spell to know that there was something wrong with all Lex’s machinations.
“Well, Connor was using the name, and you were dead. It’s called ‘abandonment.’ I can have my lawyers explain it to you,” Lex offered, in the tone of utter reasonableness that was guaranteed to drive Clark straight up the wall.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Connor said quickly. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake. Now that you’re back, of course we’ll give the name back.”
Lex’s mouth quirked in annoyance, and Clark’s mood lifted immediately.
“But we’re keeping the Superboy mark,” Connor added. “And associated trade dress. Have you seen how much a licensed Superboy T-shirt goes for?”
It was small consolation that the look on Lex’s face nearly matched Clark’s surprise.
Making a child out of the best of Kryptonian and Luthorian DNA might just turn out to be Lex’s most dangerous plan yet.
thefourthvine: BtVS: Ten Years after Sunnydale: Encounters with the Survivors of the Nation's Biggest Natural Disaster.“Clem”
I know it sounds horrible, but in a way it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I mean, I was—well, I was stuck there, you know? Not living, just existing. Hanging out on the fringes, watching the beautiful people live their exciting lives. When I left, I got a gig with this superfancy cat breeder, and that led to another job that was—let’s just say I’m now in a much better position, really happy with my life.
What? No, I wasn’t there at the very end. Was anybody?
Dawn Summers
No. No, I’m sorry. No, I don’t—No, thank you. (closes door)
Robin Wood
How did you find me?
Well, all right. Obviously, it was a significant trauma. Most of my students got out, but we lost – we lost too many. My thoughts are with the families of those left behind.
Jessica Harris
I try not to think too much about it. I live with my sister now.
I don’t know. I don’t want to know. Tony—Tony was lost a long time before Sunnydale was.
Xander? I got a letter from him, a few months back. An actual letter, the envelope covered with stamps, can you imagine? I guess they don’t have the internet where he is.
Oh, he got mixed up with this whole thing? With the vampires, and the Slayers? He was a very confused boy. He doesn’t mean anything by it. I think—well, I’d better not say anything more about it. I hear those vampires have the best lawyers.
Sheila Rosenberg
I deal with this topic extensively in my book Surviving: How to Cope with the Loss of a Job, a Spouse, or a Child. It’s a very personal work, coming out of my own tragedy. I hope that by telling my story, in combination with the most up-to-date psychological research on the grieving process, I can help others with their struggles.
Harmony Kendall
Are you sure my agent approved this?
Okay!
Well, you know, I was long gone by then. I was in LA, but this was before vampires were hot, so I wasn’t getting many auditions—it’s so awesome that they’ll hold them at night now! Anyway, I saw the pictures, and it was sad, I guess, but you know it was all the fault of the Slayers, right? I mean, they just love to kill stuff, and this was their big chance.
Well, no, I don’t have any ‘direct evidence’ or whatever, but come on! Do you really believe it was just a sinkhole?
No.
Um, I think I’m supposed to say, ‘this interview is over’ now.
Tucker Wells
The town was always cursed. PCP gangs on killing sprees, the principal getting eaten by a snake, all kinds of craziness. It’s better off as a space on the map.
Yeah, I’ve got no idea where the little creep is either. Who cares?
Jack Mayhew
There were heroes there. Oh, there were bad times too. But we always knew that someone was fighting for us. I like to think they won, you know? Even though there’s a hole in the ground that says they didn’t win big.
libgirl: M/S: "It's not what it looks like”“It’s not what it looks like, Mulder.”
“Are you sure, Scully? Because it looks like you’re reading Harlequin romances, and I’ve got to admit, I’m finding it a little bit of a turn-on.”
She didn’t want to destroy Mulder’s good mood, so rare of late. But he prized honesty more, so: “Melissa had a stack of them. Sometimes she’d write notes in the margins about how ridiculous the characters were.”
Mulder’s face smoothed into blankness, withdrawing out of respect for her pain even though that wasn’t exactly what she wanted. He hesitated, clearly about to make up some errand that would allow him to leave, and she picked up the book at the top of her stack. “I could use some help, finding the annotations.”
There was a moment when Mulder might have left anyway, and then he focused on the title. “‘The Billionaire’s Proud Mistress’? That’s a real book?”
“That’s a job description, Mulder.” She held it out to him, and he took it. “I’m marking all the best notes. She had a wicked sense of humor.”
Mulder nodded, looking down at the book in his hands. She wanted to tell him that he would have liked Melissa, but it wasn’t a truth he needed right now. It would be enough, maybe, that he would get to know Melissa a little better through her words. They’d be able to mourn Melissa together.
And who knows, Mulder might learn something from the emotionally constipated but ultimately tender heroes.
alexseanchai: SPN: The angels are obviously not above using unethical means to persuade Dean...well, Ben Braeden isn't the only person out there who's probably Dean's kid. (Just the only one Dean knows about so far.) And judging by Claire Novak, whatever makes Dean and Sam suitable angelic vessels has even odds (if not a guarantee) of being passed on to Dean's kids... “Where’s her mom?” Dean demanded, staring at the kid, who looked just like the pictures of Mom as a girl he’d seen at the Campbells’ house. Sara blinked back at him, leaning into Zachariah’s embrace: Dean was a stranger, of course, and she probably wasn't supposed to talk to strangers.
Zachariah shrugged. “She’s gone, now. Lucifer’s minions were as unhappy with Sara’s existence as we were thrilled. Stepdad’s dead too—did you know he adopted her? You humans and your patchwork families. Really loved her, too, judging from how she cried.”
“What do you want?” Dean asked, broken, because he’d seen Claire Novak, and because he’d already let too many Winchesters down.
“Don’t play the fool with me,” Zachariah said sharply. “Sweetheart, are you ready to go with your Uncle Michael?” Sara nodded, trusting as only a child who hadn’t been raised on the road could be. Zachariah met Dean’s eyes again. “She wants to be good. She believes. Not ideal, not like you, but she’ll do better than Lucifer’s current vessel, and at this point I’m willing to settle, if only to piss you off.”
Dean swallowed. “I gotta—Sam, I gotta—”
Zachariah shook his head, closing his eyes briefly in a parody of disappointment. “No, no, sorry. It’s not that we don’t have time for you to say goodbye, it’s just that I don’t like you.”
Dean felt his face pulling into a sneer. “You’re as bad as Lucifer, you know? Worse, because at least he had the stones to rebel. You’re just setting the house on fire ‘cause Daddy’s away.”
“Sara?” Zachariah invited, and the girl opened her mouth.
“Yes,” Dean said, and prayed to a dead God that Sam would understand.
eclectic: girl!Dean, surprise visit to Sam, Stanford era. When she tracked Sam down, he was walking with a bunch of other college kids, though obviously he was easy to pick out given that he was the only one tall enough to double as Chewbacca. Dee was just going to run up to him and throw himself into his arms, letting Sam explain who she was—it would be awesome to see him squirm.
But then she saw the girl next to Sam, only a couple of inches shorter than him. Hair the same color as Dee’s, wavy like hers but cut so that it would look great hanging loosely around her shoulders instead of needing to be pulled back in a ponytail so as not to get in the way of a fight. Her clothes were a couple of chains up the ladder from the Salvation Army. Smiling, linking her arm with Sam’s, on top of the world.
Dee didn’t know a damn thing about her (not true: she knew what Sam liked, smart and funny and normal-normal-normal), but she hated that girl as much as she hated vengeful spirits. Only vengeful spirits were out of place, and this girl was exactly where she belonged, so it was Dee who was in the wrong.
There was nothing here for her. Swallowing, she backed away before Sam could sense the scrutiny. She didn’t need Sam’s help on a simple ghost hunt; Dad had only hinted that she might look in on Sam while she was in the area, and he wouldn’t say anything more if she didn’t mention Sam in her report.
Sam had his world and Dee had hers. Dee couldn’t change that, couldn’t ever be that girl, laughing and able to match Sam word for word.
There was nothing for it but to do what she did, which was to head back to the car and turn on the music, driving until the worst of the sting faded with the steady roar of the engine and the thump of the chords.
Dad had said he had a line on the demon. Best thing she could do was gank the ghost and get back together with Dad as soon as possible. It’d almost be like taking care of Sam again, even if he didn’t know it.
Blowing out a breath, she checked the gas. She’d be in Sacramento soon, maybe hustle a little cash, treat herself to a movie or something before heading to the library.
It wasn’t like she had anybody to explain herself to.
niangao: SV + Kon from DC canon Clark ignored Lex just as he’d ignored all the security measures on his way into LexCorp. “What’s this?” He shoved the paper nearly into Connor’s face, until Connor used his TK to grab it and actually take a look.
“Um, it’s a—lawsuit? I thought you had some kind of immunity from those, right?” Connor blinked up at him innocently, except that Connor’s innocent face had to have been inherited from the human side of his genome, because it suggested an inherent underlying guilt.
“Only for state torts,” Lex interjected smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “This is a federal claim. Connor doesn’t know anything about it,” he added as they both turned to stare at him.
“You had your foundation register the trademark to Superman!” Clark had known that Lex had to be behind this; he was just worried that Connor was still too far under the man’s spell to know that there was something wrong with all Lex’s machinations.
“Well, Connor was using the name, and you were dead. It’s called ‘abandonment.’ I can have my lawyers explain it to you,” Lex offered, in the tone of utter reasonableness that was guaranteed to drive Clark straight up the wall.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Connor said quickly. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake. Now that you’re back, of course we’ll give the name back.”
Lex’s mouth quirked in annoyance, and Clark’s mood lifted immediately.
“But we’re keeping the Superboy mark,” Connor added. “And associated trade dress. Have you seen how much a licensed Superboy T-shirt goes for?”
It was small consolation that the look on Lex’s face nearly matched Clark’s surprise.
Making a child out of the best of Kryptonian and Luthorian DNA might just turn out to be Lex’s most dangerous plan yet.
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(Looking forward to reading your eight crazy nights entries when my days get less crazy!)
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I understand crazy days--in fact I'm not through mine, but I wanted to try to do this anyway. We'll see if I survive!
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Good luck with surviving the remaining nights!
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