tabaqui | Yay, yay!!

I can finally post!
Except, all the things i was going to post about are now totally *gone* from my brain. Silly brain.
Ummm...let's see...

Go over to

fandom_counts and be counted, if you haven't been. Total currently stands at 33,536.

I don't know how, or why, but today the Monstrous Bebe decided that she is a fan of 'Top Chef'. There was a season one marathon on and she watched...all...day. She dragged Cat in, and then me, and we ate dinner while we watched. OMG. *She's ten. I guess i prefer this to, say, Pussycat Dolls.* She's been watching the Food Channel a lot lately. And also season one of Bones that

sweptawaybayou lent us. Now she wants to be a Forensic Anthropologist.

I say - Go go! :)

What else, what else...? If you've recently been friended, let me tell you - i don't post a lot. And you don't have to comment on every little thing i post, either. I shout to the void, it's okay if nothing comes back.

And now, just 'cause i can, three snippets. My not-Big Bang fic, and two of my Sweet Charity fics. One's an SPN fic in the Wolfpack 'verse and one's Spander. I have another Spander in the works, but not anything i want to post right now. Enjoy!

Read us the Book of the Names of the Dead

For Sam, Seattle would always be the first city where he and Dean got a hotel room all to themselves. Of course, the reason they did was because the three of them got food poisoning at a steak house in Wenatchee and by the time they'd hit Seattle they'd had to pull over four times. Sam hadn't ever puked so much in his life.

They had stopped at the first motel they saw – a Motel 6 – and Dad had got two rooms. Dad had said he was too old to be that sick and share a bathroom. The cool factor of a separate room was totally lost on Sam and Dean for the next two days while they alternated between bathroom and beds. At one point, Dean had heroically gotten dressed and staggered to the vending machines for Sprite and crackers for all of them and then had flopped down face-first on his bed and hadn't moved for the next four hours.

Savage and Jaunty, Fierce and Strong

The little dinger attached to the door goes off and Dick looks up, seeing three men walking back toward the counter. Three big men that move like cats, silent in their worn boots. The tallest one seems to be the youngest, and his cool, accessing stare makes Dick almost reach for the gun he carries. Almost. He stops himself with the merest twitch and the kid notices. His lips move, saying something to his companions and all three gazes are suddenly fastened on Dick and he feels...

Jesus, he feels like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Feels like a mouse under the stoop of a hawk. He can feel sweat break out, sudden and rank, under his arms and across his back and he lifts his hands from the t-shirts he forgot he was folding and holds them up.

Doesn't breathe until those hot, hungry gazes move off him.

Speak Like Rain

*Found you.* Spike reached into a pocket and unearthed cigarettes and lighter because, quite frankly, he wanted something to do with his hands. With his mouth, too, because God alone knew what would come out of it. *Five years and I still don't have a fucking clue what to say.* Spike lit up and took a long drag – headed uphill, his boots sinking a little into the sodden earth.

The crest of the rise was drier and Spike found him in a crouch, back to the slim trunk of the tree. Bottle gleaming wetly in his hand, thin yeast smell of cheap beer.

"I guess the lion doesn't sleep tonight," Xander said, and Spike let out smoke and breath on a thin laugh.

"I won't do the 'wimoweh' part," Spike warned, and now Xander laughed.

Took a long gulp of his beer, his throat working in the cool slant of moonlight coming through the acacia leaves. "You know, that's not even the right word. About half of that song was originally in Zulu."

"The things you learn when you travel seven thousand-odd miles."

A final note. In the past six months or so, i've had a few fic nominated here and there. And it's very cool and it's very *nice*, but i forget and forgot. I meant to say 'thank you!' to whomever did the nom'ing.

Now i - and i and

reremouse - have been nom'd again at the Fang Fetish Awards, and apparently it's a vote thing. I've never done this before! Heh. Go vote! Not necessarily for us, though.

Um. If i said i'd pimp or talk about something of yours in my 'next post' and i didn't? Well, my brain is spastic and i need reminding. Remind me! And i will. OH! I have a Greatest Journal, i'm Tabaqui there as well. Friend if you like, i'm not posting over there just now.
:)