Title: Sometimes
Author: MissBehaving
Ship: Buffy/Spike/Angel
Tagline: Sometimes she thinks that normal is overrated anyway.
Summary: The relationship of parents as reflected upon by the first daughter of Buffy, Spike and Angel. Set Post Everything.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters belong to Joss Whedon.
Sometimes when she listened to her friends complain about their parents, she wished that her problems were as trivial as breaking curfew or the amount of cleavage that was acceptable for school. Sometimes she wished that her normal problems didn't involve flying horned demons, undead creatures and the semi-annual apocalypse.
Sometimes she wished she could answer all those questions about her home life truthfully. That yes, she really did live in a hotel. That no, her mother wasn't cheating on her father, all three of them were her parents. And that yes, she did date- she just didn't bring home guys who could have his ass handed to him by any of her parents.
Sometimes she didn't know whether to laugh with amusement or cry with embarrassment when her fathers corrected her history teachers. There were, of course, benefits of having a father who was closing in on three centuries and participated in nearly every major war, sometimes on more than one side. Sometimes her dad would tell her about the parties and chivalry of the pre-Victorian days when he was still human and she would imagine herself in those pretty dresses.
Sometime she doesn't know which stories about her parents to believe. And she's heard a lot of stories about them. Whenever she visits Caritas, Lorne can always think of another outrageous story about her father saving day she hasn't heard yet. Willow swears that the first time your dad met your mom, he threatened to kill her. Willow has an endless supply of funny stories about your mom and dad. Aunt Dawn had plenty of stories about your mother, stories worthy of blackmail if only everybody didn't know about them already. Sometimes she thinks Xander tells her these fantastical stories about her mom growing up just to prove that she was a teenager once, that she wasn't always this serious.
Sometimes with eight children and three adults all living under the one roof, chaos and normality were relative terms. Getting everybody ready for school in the mornings was like a badly executed battalion drill on repeat. There was never enough hot water for a proper shower or orange juice at the kitchen table but thankfully there was enough room to fit everyone in the Suburban comfortably. Sometimes when she couldn't find her favorite pair of shoes because Millie had borrowed them without asking and baby Tommy wouldn't stop crying, she wished for a fleeting moment that her parents had been satisfied with just herself, Daniel and Ava. But then she felt guilty. Her parents were just the sort of people who opened their hearts to children who were really needed a loving and caring home. And her family wouldn't be complete without her five adopted siblings as well.
Sometimes she's so envious of her friends. They were completely oblivious to the dangers that lurk behind every shadow, the demons that waited just outside their homes. They weren't trained to think of the worst possible scenario and to be prepared for it. She doesn't have that luxury. Her friends carried pepper spray and switchblades in their purses. She carried stakes and magical powders in hers. She knows five modern languages, twice as many ancient ones and several demon languages as well.
Sometimes when she's driving home through the streets of Los Angeles at three thirty in the morning in her shiny black Camero, she wishes that there was an air of teenage rebellion to it. But there never is, because her mom is sitting in the passenger seat, probably bleeding profusely and she's covered in demon blood and guts.
Sometimes she wonders if it was normal to have parents who were still together and very much in love. After all, most of her friend's parents were divorced or separated. Sometimes when she was out in public, she was embarrassed by all their long kisses, hand holding and whispered secrets. At home they were always cuddling on the couch, having date nights, holding candle light dinners, and taking midnight strolls.
Sometime she's paralyzed with fear that her parents will go out for one last battle and never come home. On those nights, she holds her siblings close and barely able to mutter a word of comfort. Illyria and everyone (all the adults) always says that they'll return. After all, Willow is a powerful witch. Sometimes she thinks they put too much faith in her parents' ability to bring them back from the latest apocalypse.
Sometimes she thinks that normal is overrated anyway.