Guh. So tired, and yet so wired. (Hey! I'm a poet ...) I woke up around 5:30 going, "I know how to end Episode 6!" And then I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. 'Cause, 5:30 on a Saturday morning, dude. There ought to be a law against getting out of bed then if you don't have to. Especially if you'd only gone to bed 4 hours ago after spending way longer than intended on AIM. Anyway, I couldn't go back to sleep. It was all so vivid, I had to get up and write it down. So an hour later (because I'm very stubborn about giving up the chance to sleep through my mornings) I stumbled out of bed and downstairs to make a pot of coffee and came back up here to do just that. So, yay. It's early, and I'm sleepy, but I've got an ending. This is important, because if I don't have an ending, I don't have a story, and I've been stressing about this for quite some time now. So now I can stop, and just write the damn story.

Aaaiigh! Spider! Bugger just ran across my keyboard and disappeared behind my desk before I could catch it. Now I feel like things are crawling on me. Sheeyeahhhh!

Anyway. I was, of course, talking about DL up there, in case you have no idea what I'm prattling on about. And if that's the case, then you must be new here. But that ep's not due for a couple more weeks. Since I'm up (sigh), I think I'll get to work on Getaway. I'm going to do my damnedest to finish it today so I can forget about it and turn all of my attention to the big-ass research papers I have to write this week. Though considering I'm just reaching the half-way point, that's looking pretty unlikely. Maybe if I stay offline. Heh, right.

Anyway. Where'd I leave off on that? Oh, right. "Let's do this." All righty, here's the next little bit:

***

The five shadowy figures formed a semi-circle in front of the car, just out of reach of the headlights. Buffy opened the car door and got out. Spike followed her lead, pulling on his duster as he stalked towards the front of the car. He tried to look menacing. #She# tried to look apologetic. "Hey, look. We were just playing around back there. We really didn't mean to offend --"

"Oh, we weren't offended," a deep voice said. The voice's owner took a step forward, and she could make out a pair of snakeskin boots poking out from beneath leather chaps. The light illuminated his giant belt buckle. "Roy" was engraved across it in big letters. "My posse and I enjoyed the show. Thought we'd catch an encore."

Buffy took a second to glare at Spike. He rolled his eyes and started patting his pockets. Great. He was going to smoke. Again. Was that his answer for everything? "Sorry." She looked back at Roy. "That was an exclusive, one-time engagement. But thanks for your interest."

"Come on, don't be that way," he said. "Show us a nice piece of white meat like that, you can't let us go away hungry." He stepped all the way into the light, revealing his vampiric features.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," Buffy muttered. She held up her hands. "Look, guys. I'm on vacation. What do you say we all just get back in our cars and forget we ever saw each other?"

"Right." Roy grinned as his "posse" moved into the light. "That's gonna happen."

Buffy sighed, and reached for her stake. It wasn't there. She'd left it in the car. She looked back up at Roy. "Um ..."

"Slayer!"

She looked at Spike just in time to see a stake flying at her head. She reached up and plucked it out of the air. "Thanks!"

The others all took a step back. Roy's grin faltered, but then it widened. "I've always wanted to try on a Slayer."

"I'll bet you have," said Spike. He threw a punch that landed square on Roy's nose, knocking him back a couple steps. Roy recovered and spun around, aiming a kick at Spike's midsection. Wonderful. Roy new how to fight. Well, so did Spike. Buffy decided to leave them to each other for the moment and turned her attention on the other four. She made the decision a split-second too late. One of the others grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms -- and her stake -- behind her.

Exciting, innit? Now for to be finishing the fighty stuff. Later.