stop. look. listen.

5 Death Scenes Fred Burkle Never Had. (AtS. Fred Burkle, Fred/Wesley, Fred/Gunn. PG-13.)
There is a smile on her face when she goes.
"I walked with heroes," she says with a pride of a job well done, life well lived.

5 fucks Faith never had (or maybe she did). (BtVS/AtS. Faith Lehane. Faith/Buffy, Faith/Wesley, Faith/Lilah, Faith/Dawn, Faith/other. R.)
She feels hot breath on her skin and thinks, this is where the darkness mixes with light.
Angel City. (AtS AU. Wesley, Cordelia, Lilah, Fred, possibly others. Semi-WIP series of standalone drables. R.)
My name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and I'm a Private Investigator. Let me assure you, you won't find any other place with more private affairs, secrets and sins than this city.The City of Angels.

Another Plan Foiled. (BtVS. Giles/Ethan/Xander. PG-13.)
Ethan Rayne was not a welcome addition to these evenings, and right now should be on a plane back to whatever hell he had crawled out from. And not, quite emphatetically not, sitting on Giles' couch. Giles' couch, on Saturday evenings, belonged to Xander. And maybe, possibly, Giles.

A Place in Time. (AtS/Ffly. Wesley/Mal. PG-13.)
“Demonic cows,” Mal said again, getting another eyeroll from Wesley.
“Yes. Do I need to repeat the whole thing again?”

“Well, it keeps getting funnier each time.”

A Story of Shoes and Cookies.
(BtVS. Buffy/Giles. G.)
“Yep, just like the old times,” Buffy announced mock-cheerfully as the heap of bones burned brightly. “It wouldn’t be a proper visit if it didn’t end at a cemetery, now would it?”

Book Value.
(BtVS. Giles/Wesley. NC-17.)
He picks up the knife and cuts through the duct tape securing the last books, opening it to reveal its contents. As predicted, more books, thick leather-bound volumes, wrapped protectively in tissue paper. His eyebrows shoot up at the sight of the first volume he picks up, then his mouth curls up in a smile as he holds it up for Wesley to see. "There's definitely room for this one, though," he offers, barely containing a wide grin that threatens to appear.

Burn the Bridges As You Cross Them. (BtVS. Giles, Giles/Faith. R.)
He remembers: how one learns that you'll never fly a Spitfire, never soar high above; that the generations of those before you hold you down, keep you grounded do strongly that it might just as well be their dead arms, breaking the earth, forcing themselves on you like poison ivy.

Cast Me Genty Into Morning. (BtVS. Giles, Giles/Tara. PG.)
She’s watching him during the research nights, clearly aware that he doesn’t report his findings even when he has all the answers. He’s waiting for them to figure it out themselves, to find the right book, the right rituals.
She has probably figured it all out, knows that he’s preparing them for when he leaves.

Chinese Whispers.
(BtVS. Giles, Giles/Faith. R.)
The Master is slowly regaining control over Sunnydale, after the losses he suffered in the factory. Recruitment was never a trouble for vampires (Larry is one of his new minions. Giles wonders if he should care more about this).

Click. (AtS/BtVS. Dawn/Fred. PG-13.)
Fred's smile slowly changed into one without cracked edges and Dawn couldn't help but respond to it. Maybe Fred was crazy, but it was nice, quiet kind of crazy. Attractive kind of crazy, too.

Feels Like Home. (BtVS. Buffy/Giles. G.)
“Would you like a cup of tea?” he asks, and she almost smiles, losing her resolve face. Instead, she glares. He sighs again. “There was this demon,” he offers, and Buffy smiles this time.

It's not stalking, If you happen to be in the same bar.
(BtVS. Giles/Ethan. PG-13.)
Or, say, you choose a small Californian town as the aim of your next prank, coincidentally, randomly, no connnection whatsoever to him, or anyone else. It's just easier to perform rituals on the Hellmouth. Well known fact.

Jingle Bells. (AtS/BtVS. Giles/Wesley. PG.)
But the circumstances were far from normal, and after fourteenth rendition of 'Jingle Bells' Wesley's brain threatened to shut down if Giles wouldn't shut up.

Lines in the Sand. (AtS. Illyria, Wesley, (Fred), Fred/Wesley, Illyria/Wesley. PG-13.)
He can't look at me, turns his eyes away. Once those who dared to look had their eyes gauged out, or melted in their sockets, and their suffering was there to be an amusement for us, like an exotic creature brought in for the show.

Love/Hate, Watcher/Slayer.
(AtS/BtVS. Buffy/Giles, Faith/Wesley. PG-13.)
I chained mine to a chair and made him bleed, she broke hers' heart. He wanted to give me to the Council's psychos, Giles left her when she needed him most... That's the carousel, join us for the ride.

Love Will Leave You Bruised. (BtVS. Buffy/Faith. R.)
“I had a vertical tango in mind, actually” Faith offered cheerfully, right after plunging the stake in the heart of the first unsuspecting vampire. “You, me, a wall,” she continued, delivering a high kick at the charging demon.

New Dawn. (AtS/BtVS. Dawn/Wesley. NC-17.)
Her name brings hope of a new day but her eyes are older than time.

Now I know how Joan of Arc felt. (AtS/BtVS. Lilah, Giles, Lilah/Wesley. R.)
Everything is a game. And it doesn't matter, that the cards are marked, the dice are weighted down, and the gun in the rulette is always fully loaded.

One of those Epiphany Thingies. (BtVS. Buffy/Giles. PG.)
He opened his mouth, but she interrupted. "Because I'm guessing you weren't. Rome, Giles? You go demon hunting in Rome, and you don't tell me? Sure, not like I could have just popped into the demonpalooza headquarters on my way to the coffee shop, or anything. But you really should have called and..."

Playing God. (AtS. Fred, Illyria. PG-13.)
They always ask you who do you want to be when you grow up.

Pulse. (BtVS. Giles/Faith. R.)
They share the bed and they share the nightmares. Sometimes after 3am he wakes up with her scream on his lips and doesn't protest when she tries to kiss it away.

Rough Draft. (BtVS. Giles/Ethan. PG-13.)
He can't sleep. Next to him, Ethan's breath is even, a steady sleep of someone with no nightmares, no second thoughts, no regrets.

Significance of a Click. (AtS. Fred, Fred/Gunn, Fred/Wesley. PG-13.)
The quiet sound of a red permanent marker scibbling on a freshly-painted wall. Doodles and drawings, numbers and equations, all coming together in the final answer, the perfect moment.

Singularity. (AtS. Cordelia/Gunn/Wesley. PG-13.)
"I stink," Cordelia announced unhappily but matter-of-factly when they dragged themselves into the hotel. "I don't know if you guys noticed or not, but you do too," she added, wrinkling her nose, and rubbing at the hem of her shirt. "Eew. Demon goo. Ruining my best clothes since 1997."

Songs of Experience. (AtS/BtVS. Giles, Illyria. PG-13.)
"You poison yourself with liquid grief, a failed attempt to wash away your guilt," she mutters, but makes him a cup of coffee anyway. It's an awful cup of coffee, and she curses the kettle and its ancestors in the meantime, but he still appreciates the thought.

Soul Music.
(AtS. Fred/Lilah. NC-17.)
Now she know there was more to comprehend than body and soul, because she had lost both, and yet here she was, still very much herself, broken smile and soul burned out, less than an echo, more than the life.

Stranger Things. (AtS/BtVS. Giles/Wesley/Xander. PG.)
Of course, some things did change. Like, for example, how beer appeared on the list of beverages Giles' offered when Xander visited. The day Giles added it to the usual selection of tea, coffee and soda, Xander's jaw dropped. What, was he an adult now? Apparently so.

Stuck With You For A While. (AtS/Ffly. Wesley/Simon. PG.)
When the fourth day of research doesn’t bring any answers, they all start setting into the possibility that just maybe, the Serenity crew is here to stay.

The Benefits of the Tropical Virus #298. (BtVS. Giles/Xander. PG-13.)
"Geez, what is this, an Apocalypse?" Xander grumbles, unlocking the doors and opening them wide. He blinks at the person behind them. "Shit. Don't tell me, it is an Apocalypse."

The May/December Thing. (BtVS. Giles/Dawn. PG-13.)
“God help me, you’ve been rehearsing this,” he muttered. “Did you thought over the fact that your sister will have my guts for garters, and my liver for a pincushion, by any chance?”

The Pretenders. (AtS/BtVS. Giles/Wesley. PG-13.)
Being trapped in a cottage, in the middle of a snowstorm, with Wesley and no clothes whatsoever? Not Giles' ideal Christmas.

The Rules of the Smuggling Business. (AtS Space!AU. Wesley/Gunn. PG-13.)
Gunn attempts a glare, which crashes with the customary casual-leaning-against-the-hull-of-the-ship cool pilot mode he had practiced for just the occasion of breaking rule seven. "She may not look much, but Winifred is the fastest ship you will find.” Certainly true in this hole of a planet.

Time and Place. (AtS/Ffly. Fred/Inara. R.)
Inara doesn’t ask, she never asks. It’s always about Angel, or Gunn, or Wesley, about foolishness and blindness and words and arguments. She just moves to the side, letting Fred in, as she’s already taking off her coat, reaching to remove her hairpin, cascade of curls surrounding her, like a halo in the candlelight.

Uncharted. (AtS/BtVS. Illyria/Faith. PG-13.)
For me each touch is new and sudden, explosion of sensation, electric impulses passing from neuron to neuron. It should offend, the reminder of how physical, how filthy, how human it is.

Under the Mistletoe. (BtVS. Giles/Xander. PG.)
Right now, the mistletoe hanging from Giles' living room celing was a big part of his master plan... a plan that was failing quite miserably.

Using the Library Computers, Rules Of
. (BtVS. Xander, Giles. G.)
1. The Watchers' use of the computers is a priority. If you disagree, go talk about it with Giles, he'll give you a research assignment in Latin. And don't think you'll get a book with pictures, oh no.

All Your Time, Waiting. (AtS/BtVS. Giles/Wesley. PG.)
There were other questions Giles really wanted to ask, starting with repeating the first one until he gets an actual answer, but Wesley looked even more tired than Giles felt, and that was an achievement. And besides, there was something like hospitality.

A Strom in a Broken Tea Cup
. (BtVS/SPN. Giles, Castiel. PG-13.)
There's no typical reaction to idiots in wrinkled coats announcing themselves to be Angels of the Lord, but the easiest one is to break out in giggles (drunken giggles, granted, but you deal with what you have).

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream. (BtVS. Buffy, Giles, Willow, Kennedy, OCs. PG-13.)
She dreams about a little village somwhere in the strange mountains, where people bolt the windows shut and pin crosses to their doors. She dreams of lambs left chained to a wooden pike on the main square, left overnight, like a prayer and a sacrifice to the evil powers visiting the village each night.

Saved in Translation (Translating Rupert Giles from English into the language they speak in, you know, England). (BtVS, Giles, Buffy, Willow, Xander, Jenny, gen, G)
In sunny California he's always very British, it's the first thing anyone mentions when his name comes up. "That's Giles, he's British," as if this was the one true definition of him, as if the word contained not only his accent but also his personality and his soul.