FIC: The Late Shift

[Grimaldi]

cool update



Tara is quite the party animal

Dude, we're surrounded by perverts!

Fucking Windows 98, get Bill Gates in here!

We'll roll on with our heads held high - The Living End

[tiyodragon]

Chica,



your awesome.



Your mind can go places that can't be described in a PDR.



Your talent for the comedy is un-matched.



Can't wait for more chica-shift.



tiyodragon

[tkheaven]

Wicca, officially, I have no idea what you're talking about... rotating beds? no, not at all, just a thought.... thoughts, a thought, an image of Tara with muscles flexing as she moves with sharp turns yet a graceful motion as her strong legs move her closer to a victorious challenge against her opponent.... you know, I can't go on, but after watching The Mummy Returns I can't get my mind off of an Egyptian-like Tara slowly swaying her hips as she walks into a dim lit room with the gold bracelet hugging her bicept and the smooth abs....I'm lost with words as to what I'm imagining, but you get the idea...

Tk's new and improved "GrrArgg"

-----------------------------
Tara was similarly riveted, her body on slow burn as Willow's lips parted and her mouth opened, the food slipping inside and being consumed. Never in her life had Tara ever wanted to be a chicken casserole so badly...Later that night..."It's good to be a chicken casserole," Tara murmured, before passing out. ~ Answering Darkness by Sassette

[wiccachica]

A little morsel from the troll...



Chapter188: The Hirsute Suite



Thrum-ba-da-dum----ba-da-dum---bada dum-dum-dum



I make every human effort NOT to pick at the drying red mud on my left arm as I sit on a bed of magnolia petals that one of the Amazons sprinkled down in the center of the ring of fire.



Thrum-ba-da-dum----ba-da-dum---bada dum-dum-dum



Oddly, after a few rounds under the icy cold yet gargantuan paws of the Red Mud Squad, I had become historically sober.



The remedy of which had been another rousing vat of "wine" and a round of what must have either been an Amazonian drinking song, or the true and correct answer to the statistical average of the lower left quadrant of the universe as a whole...if gravity is equal to X and is bisected by the graphical equivalent of Pi...



It could have been both. Amazons are really smart….aaaaand they like to party.



Sa-Li bri hanna.... HAH!



Thrum-ba-da-dum----ba-da-dum---bada dum-dum-dum



Su-an shi inna Lu!



Thrum-ba-da-dum----ba-da-dum---bada dum-dum-dum



Mi beleh yu ruh bana YA!



Thrum-ba-da-dum----ba-da-dum---bada dum-dum-dum



Da bu Teh et rel eh guut!



Thrum-ba-da-dum----ba-da-dum---bada dum-dum-dum



(J-Lo...eat your heart out.)



Thrum-ba-da-dum----ba-da-dum---bada dum-dum-dum



And as they start their ...like...tenth round of this...and I'm sitting cross-legged on the floor slapping my hands on my muddy thighs to the beat...when all of a sudden....



Through the wall of fire, bursts the first of six...well…what shall I call them???



Hot feathered jungle mamas?



Maybe I should explain them and let you name for yourself...



Okay....so I was sitting there...rocking out, if you will....



And through the flames burst six Amazons in shimmery red feather shanked boots and iridescent rouge feathers fanning out beneath their arms.



As they burst through the fire they spread their arms...fanning out their 'wings' to allow the fire…which seemed to leap and writhe briefly over the surface of the feathers… to subside.



And then they began their precise and choreographically entrancing dance.



Now don't get me wrong...the reason it was entrancing had NOTHING what so ever to do with the fact that the red feathers was virtually ALL that they were wearing...



Thrum-ba-da-dum----ba-da-dum---bada dum-dum-dum



It was like my own private Vegas Lounge Show.



And I surely would have paid full admission price for what happened next…



For who should burst through the fire and into the dancing line of hot feathered jungle mamas wearing nothing more than some giant feathers and some well placed red mud?



Why Willow D. Rosenberg…of course.



Thrum-ba-da-dum----ba-da-dum---bada dum-dum-dum



The drums came to an abrupt halt as she walked through the line of dancers, shaking the strange licks of fire from her feathers. She was holding something I couldn’t make out…but never mind that now…There are more pressing matters…Like…how…



The feathers seemed to REALLY favor Willow.



Red was CERTAINLY her color …and not that I didn’t know it a hundred-fold before this…but it was obvious to me why redheads were so treasured among the Amazons….



They were HOT!



Despite my position of honor, I quickly scramble to my feet to get a better view of this marvelous spectacle.



And once on my feet…I could see what she was holding in her hands… a book. A big…leather-bound red book with an intricate design on the cover…



“ Willow…Baby…you look…” I started to say…when she stopped an arms length from me, hefting the heavy-looking book in her arms.



And then without so much as a how-do-you-do…she pulled that book back…her biceps straining with the effort…. And I was mildly distracted by the sheer form she took as she swung it down and away….



She was like a professional golfer…or…Babe Ruth….



“ Will???” I ventured….just before she lifted the book back around and plowed it with every ounce of Willow strength …



right into the side of my head….



<>



Huh? Wha? What the…???Where did this little submarine come from….?



(Blonk….blonk…blonk… “Alert…alert…we’re reaching unconscious depth for the second time in like two hours sir…what do we do???”)



(“We keep going, Ensign….full aft rudder….dive! Dive!…(sigh) My god, man…what in the hell hit us that time?”)



( “I think it was a big red book, Sir. Would you like me to check…?”)



(“No….it’s no use now…we’re going down…we might as well go down with dignity…”)



(Blonk…blonk….blonk…)



TBC…



Beck and call in the AM ...

" I mock you with my Monkey Pants!" - OZ


" Nymph! (pause)Nymphette?"


"Nympho." -The Pirate Movie
-


" If you imps are lookin for a fight, then ya come to the Chapel Oblige-ya!!" - Legend

[LeatherQueen]

Oh chica... bravo!!



And oh, what would I give to have been one of the Red Mud Squad right then.



Poor Tara, tho... she might be catching up to Giles soon with the number of thumps to the head causing unconsciousness.

--------------------------------


"But when they're playing your song on the jukebox in Hell, you might as well dance." - K. Simpson


"Futile... like a FOX, baby!" - Tara in The Late Shift by wiccachica

[AutumnT]

Well, Willow did always like to do things by the book.

Autumn

-----------

Buffy Season 6: It grated, like something forced in where it doesn't belong.

[mollyig]

It was like my own private Vegas Lounge Show. Heh! Willow Rouge!



Okay I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for the book . . . hang on, I forgot whose fic I was reading!

Adding up the total of a love that's true, multiply life by the power of two
Indigo Girls

[tkheaven]

Quote:

---

(J-Lo...eat your heart out.)...It was like my own private Vegas Lounge Show.

---

I loved the whole Star Trek dialogue....

Tk's new and improved "GrrArgg"

-----------------------------
Tara was similarly riveted, her body on slow burn as Willow's lips parted and her mouth opened, the food slipping inside and being consumed. Never in her life had Tara ever wanted to be a chicken casserole so badly...Later that night..."It's good to be a chicken casserole," Tara murmured, before passing out. ~ Answering Darkness by Sassette

[Forbidden Magician]

"Itz a red book sir."

Omg when he said that I just lost it. That was so funny, I am now eternally indebted to the ultimate insane imagination women. I will now repeatedly bow to u until the next update.

Never play leapfrog with a unicorn!

[singgirl]

okaaay....



Anyway, good show, as usual. Can't wait for more.

[Grimaldi]

cool update very funny, was Willow using the updated caveman technique for claiming your woman?

Dude, we're surrounded by perverts!

Fucking Windows 98, get Bill Gates in here!

[miss calendar]

Hi wiccachica,

I've just started reading your wierd but wonderful fic. I'm only part way down page one so I reckon it'll be a while before I catch up. Meanwhile I thought I'd drop a line to say I'm as confused as hell but having a lot of fun. Thanks.

[TromDeGrey]

OW...owowowowowowow My freakin' sides hurt from laughing so hard!!! Chica, you're killing me!! But what a way to go...

Confusion is a definite direction.

[wiccachica]

What is with this troll anyhow?



Drugs?



Alien abduction?



Or just the troll being himself maybe...





Chapter 189: Das Booty...



("We have green lights across the board, Sir...")



(Okay...bring her up...but SLOW-LY...I don't want a disaster on our hands...what do we have on radar?")



(“Well...it looks like the red book is at the side of the red haired vessel, Sir...out of harm's way..")



(And the rest of the quadrant?...)



("Jam-packed with hard-core partying Amazon Honeys, Sir...shall I deploy tactical breast revealing maneuvers or launch the full frontal assault?.")



("No. Let's try to avoid total bedlam and just get to the surface. We'll worry about the rest later.")



("Aye, Sir.")



("And take it slow, Ensign...that's some highly volatile fuel we've got in there...one wrong move and there could be a meltdown...or a system back up...")



("Eww...Sir.")



(" Yeah...I've been through two wars ...I've seen it happen...The Dorm Party of '99 and the Bronze incident of ‘01.")



("...Wow, Sir.")



("Yeah...wow indeed...now look alive, Man and get us to the surface.")



("Ascending now, Sir")



TBC...



Chapter 190:Who Smote The Book of Love...?



I come to this time like a gigantic leviathan emerging from the murky depths of the ocean.



I blink up at Willow, dumbfounded as she stands over me looking sorry enough to cry.



She is holding the dangerously heavy book to her chest as though waiting for me to get up within range again so she can hit another homerun on my face.



"Uhm...OUCH." I say up at her.



" I know, Baby." She croons down at me...but makes no move to help me up...or at least join me down here where I can cuddle up to her and whine about how HARD she hit me with the big red book...and maybe cop a feel…or something to make myself feel better… I mean…she did hit me VERRRRY hard…



Speaking of that...



" Willow, Honey...you hit me in the head with a big red book." I state the obvious.



" I did." She states the obviouser.



" At some point...no pressure mind you...I'm going to have to know why you hit me in the...you know...head...with a big red book."



" The Queen told me if I wanted to be yours...I would have to come out here and hit you with it...and that I had to hit you as hard as I love you… or else it wasn't valid..."



" Good God...that's a lot of LOVE, Will..." I say...rubbing my face.



" Yeah...I kinda do...Love you...you know?"



“ I’m getting that…I’m also getting teary over here…but that might just be the concussion talking.”



“ Sweetie…you have to get back up.” Willow says down at me.



You sometimes think that the animated sound effect sound “GULP” can’t truly be that loud…not even…but I managed just fine.



“ Y-you’re going to hit me again? I don’t think COMA is the afterglow of Love, Willow…”



“ No…I’m not going to hit you again.” She says with a flighty smile…a little bit nerves, and a little bit 100% pure cut fear… I get slowly to my feet…and start to brush myself off…but quickly realize that I’m covered in mud…so what honestly is the use…



“ You have to hit me now…and it has to be as hard as you love me…or it won’t count…” She says…handing the book off to me before I can protest.



She turns her face to one side…offering me a perfect target…her eyes sqinch closed and I see her body tense for the impact.



I look don’t at the red book in my hands. The think weighs a ton…it’ll hurt like a son of a…



“ Tare…” Willow yelps… bearing down even more…bracing for impact….



I couldn’t hit the woman I love with a book…not even if it means I LOVE her.



Oh come on Maclay…she HIT YOU with the think without a moments hesitation…time to repay the favor.



I trace my finger over the red leather.



I could never hit her with a book.



You don’t and she belongs to the Queen and her posse forEVER…



I shake my head…There is just no way…



Maybe you didn’t hear your conscience correctly…I SAID the Queen and her posse will get to KEEP Willow for their very own… YOUR Willow…



I’m not so big on the violence thing…right? I could never inflict pain….



Stay on or get off? Stay on or get off?



I could never…



So let me get this straight….you are going to let some foxy Amazon KEEP Willow in her harem to do with as she pleases…to…you know…KEEP her…and make her go ‘whee!’…



<>



As the crowd of women cheer my obvious love for my girlfriend…I spit a red feather out and look down at her…



So what goes through a Willow’s head when they get K-O'd?



TBC….

" I mock you with my Monkey Pants!" - OZ


" Nymph! (pause)Nymphette?"


"Nympho." -The Pirate Movie
-


" If you imps are lookin for a fight, then ya come to the Chapel Oblige-ya!!" - Legend

[Latsric]

Wow! If that's how Amazon's say I love You, I'd hate to get on their bad side.



-lat-

- I need my obsessions, they keep me sane -

[tkheaven]

Quote:

---

As the crowd of women cheer my obvious love for my girlfriend…I spit a red feather out and look down at her…

So what goes through a Willow’s head when they get K-O'd?

---

So what does go through a Willow’s head when they get K-O'd? I'm almost afraid to find out...mind you, I said almost...

Tk's new and improved "GrrArgg"

-----------------------------
Tara was similarly riveted, her body on slow burn as Willow's lips parted and her mouth opened, the food slipping inside and being consumed. Never in her life had Tara ever wanted to be a chicken casserole so badly...Later that night..."It's good to be a chicken casserole," Tara murmured, before passing out. ~ Answering Darkness by Sassette

[Grimaldi]

loved the update, very funny

so the Amazons aren't big on saying love with flowers, hate to think what would happen if there was a wedding proposal

Dude, we're surrounded by perverts!

Fucking Windows 98, get Bill Gates in here!

[NewRuthRising]

Ok, first of all, I've been in Scotland for a week sans ordinateur and therefore unable to reply before now soo............



*Hands Chica espresso, towel, PJ's and much chocolate.*

Have fun!



Second... There are way to many things to comment on, I would jam up the whole board so I'll just say You ROCK!

*Runs and jumps in chicca's lap.*



But I will say...



"Babe Ruth"? Trying to turn me on?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes I get the distinct impression that none of us are as cool as we think we are. Hm. - Tommo

[wiccachica]

Beck and Call…



LeatherQueen… I have to agree with you….Our Tara is getting one too many conks on the noggin for her own good… I’ll have to discuss this with the troll…just to make sure he’s not planning to have her forget anything…you know…vital…like loving Willow…or potty training…



AutumnT…By the book! Snarf! You took my next cheesy punning title! Well I guess great minds think alike…you and me…(or is that two half wits make a whole wit…I can’t recall…)



Mollyig…The is NEVER a reasonable explanation for anything in this fic me thinks. Blame it on the troll…or the rain…or the bellboy…you choose.



Tkheaven…See now…I know a little more about you. I write dialog and you immediate turn it into Star Trek…even though we were not on the Enterprise. So know when I wrote the second dialog…I kept hearing Wesley Crusher’s squeaky little voice saying “Aye, Sir.” Than you soooo much for that.



Forbidden Magician…As much as I would love for you to be bowing and all indebted to me …alas…it is the roll who is the brains of this operation. And Trollish custom says you must NEVER bow to a troll…it makes them think that you are mocking their small stature.



Singgirl… Can’t wait for more? Well it’s truly too bad you weren’t around this fic in the days of Yore when the troll was powering out two, maybe three episodes a day. The morning and evening editions. (sigh) I miss those days… (creaks back in rocking chair and blinks out over the marsh)



Grimaldi…I’m all about getting with the modern times. Club = Red book. I keep getting little flashes of John Boorman’s The Emerald Forest…And may I also add to your most recent comment...you are QUICK, Grimaldi...very quick...



miss calender…Well…if you ever get back to this point again with your sanity…I welcome you!



Trom de Grey… I’m sorry I’m killing you so soon…and here we’ve just gotten to know each other. Talk about my severe social dysfunction… “chia…Trom…trom…chica… hi how ya doin…

(Scary psycho music starts)



Latsric…Amazons don’t have a bad side. Have you ever traveled around one to find out…All gorgeous…I guarantee…



NewRuthRising...You caught my Babe Ruth comment eh? Well that WAS no accident I have to say... And what can I say to an esspresso...jammies...Aaaaand a Ruth in the lap...?

(blinks and decides to cleverly sublimate her emotions into the next episode which the troll has allowed her to write...)

" I mock you with my Monkey Pants!" - OZ


" Nymph! (pause)Nymphette?"


"Nympho." -The Pirate Movie
-


" If you imps are lookin for a fight, then ya come to the Chapel Oblige-ya!!" - Legend

[TromDeGrey]

I'm stunned! I honestly didn't think she'd do it! But then... Good night, Willow!!!! What a riot!! Oh, and pardon my rudeness, Chica. Nice to meet you! Do you always have odd theme music following you around?

Confusion is a definite direction.

[mollyig]

I don’t think COMA is the afterglow of Love, Willow…”



Okay, Tara's mind was mad enough, but Willow's? Now that's going to be fun!

Adding up the total of a love that's true, multiply life by the power of two
Indigo Girls

[tkheaven]

sorry but it's the first thing that popped in my head..not that I was particularly thinking of Wesley Crusher...*shiver*

Tk's new and improved "GrrArgg"

-----------------------------
Tara was similarly riveted, her body on slow burn as Willow's lips parted and her mouth opened, the food slipping inside and being consumed. Never in her life had Tara ever wanted to be a chicken casserole so badly...Later that night..."It's good to be a chicken casserole," Tara murmured, before passing out. ~ Answering Darkness by Sassette

[NewRuthRising]

Hey, anything for to keep you and your wonderful troll going! Want a back rub to get you started?



*Twists so she can rub chica's back*



Of course, if anyone walked in...



*Several people walk in, gape, and walk out.*



...we are in a rather compromising position. Not by design though. Ahem.



Ruth

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes I get the distinct impression that none of us are as cool as we think we are. Hm. - Tommo

[wiccachica]

To be shifted...tonight....

" I mock you with my Monkey Pants!" - OZ


" Nymph! (pause)Nymphette?"


"Nympho." -The Pirate Movie
-


" If you imps are lookin for a fight, then ya come to the Chapel Oblige-ya!!" - Legend

[mollyig]

What an invitation! Oh hang on, it might be only in Ireland that the word "shifted" is used in a, ehm, how shall I put this, dating kind of way - e.g. so and so shifted so and so last night.



So maybe I shouldn't reply to that comment. But, hell what if it was an invitation?

Adding up the total of a love that's true, multiply life by the power of two
Indigo Girls

[wiccachica]

Who said it wasn't an invitation? Molly, Dearheart, whatever you want....it's yours...so spake the troll.

" I mock you with my Monkey Pants!" - OZ


" Nymph! (pause)Nymphette?"


"Nympho." -The Pirate Movie
-


" If you imps are lookin for a fight, then ya come to the Chapel Oblige-ya!!" - Legend

[mollyig]

Oh my!

Adding up the total of a love that's true, multiply life by the power of two
Indigo Girls

[wiccachica]

I have travelled far and through many an internet complication to bring you this little piece of troll strangeness...



"TREMBLE!"



Chapter 191: The Weirding Way…Pt.1



Tick-tick-tick-tick…



Why doesn’t it seem strange to you that you’re in the Sunnydale Shopping Mall?



You are standing on an escalator step…descending so slowly it would certainly be faster to WALK down them to the first floor…



But THAT would defeat the wily purpose of The Escalator in general, right? To defy the laws of ultimate laziness by moving slower than you would upon your own power?



Tick-tick-tick-tick…



Something is weighing heavy in your left hand…so you lift it to look.



What the….? How did you end up with a framed picture of Richard Nixon? Did you BUY this here?



Tick-tick-tick-tick…



You look around the mall to see if there’s a shop that sells Nixon memorabilia but end up locking gazes with a strange little white-haired man standing on the escalator opposite yours…heading slowly upward.



He looks concerned with the business of winding his pocket watch. He continually glances down at it and winds it some more….and then looks back up at you.



You do not think you two have ever met, and yet he looks remarkably like the old Swiss man who owned the watch repair shop in Downtown Sunnydale when you were ten.



“ Zere’s no time.” He says to you as your escalator paths begins to cross…his is still inching upward…and yours is meandering down.



“ Mr. Watchman?” You ask…using the name you and Xander had dubbed him as kids because you had no idea what his name was…and in the infinite self-importance of the very young…didn’t actually NEED to know.



Mr. Watchman reaches across the divider and presses the oddly warm pocket watch into your palm.



You shudder to think where he might have been keeping it for it to be so warm…



“ Zee average bout of oonconsheeznuss oonly lasts zree point two minoots…zoh zere iz no time to spare….”



“ What is with the cheesy overdone Swiss accent?” You feel inclined to ask.



“ You nevah av spooken to za Vatchman…Zoh you av no edea ow I spake…” He says in what sound like muddled French from an old black and white film. He points into your hand.



You look down at the watch he has given you.



Tick-tick-tick-tick…



The hands of the gold watch waver and move like those of a compass…unable to find True North.



It doesn’t strike you as odd? Shouldn’t you….



Wait a minute! Unconscious! You’re not unconscious! Why would you be?



You look out over the food court where your High school Sophomore Algebra class is sitting and eating corn dogs and watching CNN on TV tables. They all wave at you and then return to eating. You turn back to Mr. Watchman.



“ Okay…I want OUT.” You say.



“ Zere iz noo oot.” He says…already moving up and past you.



You will not follow him…you know the rules: Never run UP the DOWN escalator.



Besides…you would have to start the slow trip back down al over again.



So you wait.



“ So how do I get back up there!” You call out.



“ Ven yoo are ready to ascend yoo vill know za vurds.” He says with all of the certainty of a dream guide with terrible people skills….



And then her leaves you. Not with a magical <> but more of a <> kind of way.



Tick-tick-tick-tick…



You continue your ride down the moving Stairway of Somnic Symbolism.



The word…the word…what could the word be?



“ Hat?” You call out to the Mall.



In the distance…more precisely somewhere near the Pretzel Palace and Oogly Shoes…a peal of thunder emits.



“ Ouch!…That’s one down and two to go. What kind of lame guess word is that?” Comes the distinct voice of Cordelia Chase.



She is standing at the bottom of the escalator, hand propped on hipbone with a air of defiance that she has had a patent on since birth.



She has her hair pulled back, and looks infinitely bored with this plane of existence…another look patented under the Cordelia Chase Company.



Her pink jumper is painstakingly tailored.



The smiling bunny on the front hand-embroidered.



Her light blue sneakers are matched to the hues in the Bunny’s eyes with the expertise of a crack team of dressing professionals working round-the-clock to keep her color coordinated.



Cordelia Chase is seven years old.



Cordelia Chase is also annoyed.



“ What are you doing here?” You ask.



“ I’m your guide, dumm-o.” She says with a cross of the arms.



You would think someone like Cordelia could think up a better cut low than…dumm-o…



“ I was going to call you “jack-ass,” but I’m seven… and this is a G-Rated insentience.” She says.



You reach the bottom of the escalator…and crane your head down to look at her. She rolls her eyes up at you.



You both stare at each other for a moment.



“ Can I have another guide?” You politely ask.



“ No. Believe me…I put in a formal complaint to The Powers That Be about this one. I’m in the Union. I have rights.” She says.



“ But this is MY DREAM…I can have anything I WANT…” You insist. Cordy reaches up and grabs you by the lapels…pulling you down closer to her face so she can glare at you without straining her neck.



“ Get it straight, Rosenberg. YOU are not dreaming. You are UN-conscious. You have about as much say in here…as a…”



(she searches for something witty and Rated G to say)



“…well ….you just don’t have a say in here….so let’s just get this over with.”



“ This is the worst bout of unconsciousness I’ve EVER had.” You mumble.



“ Yeah well…complain to someone who cares. Let’s go.” She lets you go with a pert little shove and heads off down the mall walkway.



“ Where are we going?” You ask.



“ This is a mall…so I’m going to give you a hint: Shopping… Dummy….hello….!” She tiffs at you without even turning back.



You have to wonder if it falls within the basic laws of Morpheus to BOOT your unconscious guide in the little jumper ASS.



Tick-tick-tick-tick…



TBC…

" I mock you with my Monkey Pants!" - OZ


" Nymph! (pause)Nymphette?"


"Nympho." -The Pirate Movie
-


" If you imps are lookin for a fight, then ya come to the Chapel Oblige-ya!!" - Legend

[mollyig]

the moving Stairway of Somnic Symbolism. I knew Willow's head would be mad, but this is just brilliantly barmy! Ah young Cordy, what a helpful young girl she isn't.



Wonderful!

Adding up the total of a love that's true, multiply life by the power of two
Indigo Girls

[Grimaldi]

cool update interesting that Willow's unconscious mind would create a mall. young Cordy as her guide is funny, nice to see that she is predictable, only focused on shopping.

Dude, we're surrounded by perverts!

Fucking Windows 98, get Bill Gates in here!

2nd place??? That's just a fancy term for loser!