Do you sometimes write little scenes and then you get jossed or you never write the story that scene was supposed to be part of?
My Post-"Grave" fic never got launched because I was too busy doing other stuff. Funnily enough, some of the things I had planned to write, happened on the show. Not exactly the same way, but on a more abstract level.
For instance, I was absolutely certain that ME would try to totally dismantle Spike's physical sex appeal. I expected them to literally peel him like an onion, to remove layer for layer to eventually enable the other characters (and the not so Spike-infatuated viewers - yes, they exist) to see him for who he is - rather than what he is. I thought they'd start with his looks. That they'd disfigure his face (the lighting in S6 constantly underlined his man/monster conflict by often casting half his face in shadow). I honestly didn't expect them to make him insane and filthy (And what does the fact that I still find him yummy say about me?).
I recently found out that the initial church scene in "Beneath You" had a shot where his face is partly burned by the cross.
I wondered, why Spike looks healed and well (sort of) in the following episode, but I suppose it's for practical reasons: all the aditional make-up uses up an awful lot of time every day and slows down the general shooting schedule.
I must admit, ME surprised me, by dismantling both the crypt set(although in hindsight it makes sense to move Spike from a place of the dead to a place of growth) and the Magic box set.
Which means I won't be needing the little snippet I wrote about the Magic Box. But I'm a hamster kind of person - I never throw anything away. I don't own my things, my things own me.
Sometimes, I can so relate to Anya.
100.000
“Almost 100.000 bucks?“ Buffy exclaimed, squinting at Anya’s notepad.
“It would have been more if Xander hadn’t done some of the repairs free of charge,” Anya informed her helpfully.
“100.000 bucks,” Buffy repeated in awe. Part of her mind was busy imagining the pile of clothes and shoes that kind of money could buy, before guiltily applying her imagination to more immediate financial problems, like the mortgage on the house and Dawn’s college fund.
“And you’re saying you expect Willow to cough up this kind of money?”
“Absolutely,” Anya said firmly. “Dawn had to give back what she stole and work off her debts, why should Willow get away with her orgy of destruction?”
“But 100.000 bucks? No way is she ever gonna have that kind of money,” Buffy said dubiously.
“She can pay it back in easy monthly instalments,” Anya explained cheerfully, pointing at the figures. “She should start paying off Giles’s half. After all he’s mortal and doesn’t have many years left in him. Unlike me. I can wait. I’ll charge interest, of course, but at a humane rate.”
“I’m sure she’ll be pleased to hear it,” Buffy said.
She opened a cardboard box and started to put various scented candles into the shelf.
“I didn’t know the stuff was worth that much.”
“The books she sucked dry, they’re the largest lump. Some of them were quite rare. Some were Giles’s private property, but I don’t see why he shouldn’t be compensated for the loss. It’s not like they were insured against evil witchcraft.”
“Why don’t we tell the insurance it was theft or vandalism? The shop was insured against that, wasn’t it?” Dawn could be heard, coming up from the basement, carrying a glass jar filled with dried chicken feet.
“Because it wouldn’t be the truth,” Anya simply said. “There, how does it look?” She held up a cardboard sign: ‘Grand Re-Opening – Stock up for the next Apocalypse’
Buffy formed a circle with thumb and index finger. “Perfect, Anya,” she said.
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