Well I think I'll start the discourse off myself.  I have been working for the lastm onth to produce an appropriate story to match the purpose of High Quality Fan Fiction.  And finally, I have completed it.  Here is the tantilizing first part.

This story is for adults or mature teenagers.  It wrestles with difficult concepts inappropriate for younger readers.

Enjoy!

                                    A RED SUN RISES

          It was a beautiful day outside.  Angel marched with sexy disdain into the garden, watching as his son, Connor, cupped a butterfly gently in his soft, ivory white hands.

          "It's a miracle, isn't it, Pops?" Connor practically sang the words with a soprano pitch to his silken voice.  "The world is so beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.  The world is so beautiful, smiley and bright."

          Angel stared in horror.

          "What have you done to my son?"  He demanded of the skinny creature hovering by his side with unsexy disdain.

          "You asked us to make him happy," Eve said happily.  "It makes me happy to see him happy."

          Angel stared in horror.

          Then he awoke, pleased to find the world normal.  Cordelia was dead, Spike was on the rampage, and Giles was so far, far away.  It was a beautiful world, full of songs, and merriment.

          He put his hand on his stiffening member, thinking of Cordelia; the funeral had been beautiful.  He got hard just thinking of it.  Spike was swathed in a giant coat that did little to hide his tiny, tiny body.  Gunn was smiling like a madman.  Spike couldn't help that his friend's shiny, bald head was distracting him, making him pull his coat back from his tiny, tiny body, so he could better admire his own reflection upon the bald surface.

          Fred was crying.  Angel had been confused by that.  Fred really hated Cordelia.  But since she cried so much anyway, it did nothing but add to his mindless rage.

          "DAMN YOU, BUFFY!!!  IF I AM ANGELUS, YOU SHOULD BE BUFFICUS!!!"

          His screams reverberated around the graveyard, and even Giles heard it in England, and dropped his glasses in surprise.

          They broke, but that's not important to the story.  So we will not focus on it.

          Instead, we must focus on Giles's stiffening parchment, growing weary with age.  Just like Giles.  He put his glasses on, and accidentally stabbed his eye with a shard.  Uncomfortable, Giles adjusted his glasses.

          Angel, meanwhile, had learned the value of a good vehicle to convey him from one location to another.  Conner's stiffening body lay in the trunk.  Along the way, he hit millions of starving children with his bumper, thinking how wonderfully symbolic it was of his entire life, where he fed on non-starving children in various locations he had to walk to, for there were no cars where he came from.

          AND THAT WAS SCOTLAND OR IRELAND!!

TO BE CONTINUED…