Disclaimer: The book, 'The Balloon Tree' by Phoebe Gilman is very real and very wonderful. Any story about a spunky princess, who triumphs over evil, bad-dressing uncles using balloons is high on my list of best reads. I recommend to all.
In case you like the obvious, any characters that appear on the show Buffy don't actually belong to me.
Balloon Magic
Willow closed the door behind her and immediately flinched as she heard wailing coming from the back room. Tara came out of the kitchen and walked over to Willow, looking very worn out.
"Hey", Willow kissed her and then looked in the direction of the continuous crying. "What happened?"
Tara sighed, "His balloon broke."
The redhead winced sympathetically. "Not the one he's been dragging around for a week?"
Tara nodded, "He's been crying for – " she looked down at her watch, "Almost two hours now. I gave up after 45 minutes hoping he'd wear himself out." She pressed two fingers to her temple as an especially loud wail emitted from the room. "He hasn't."
"Aww sweetie I'm sorry." Willow squeezed her hand, "Why don't you go take a bath, I'll see what I can do for him."
Tara looked at her partner doubtfully but shrugged her shoulders in consent. "If he breaks you too, you know where to find me."
Willow grinned at Tara's retreating back, briefly considering scrapping her mission and following her up the stairs. She shook her head. 'Not the time Willow.'
Setting her resolve face, she turned to the back of the house, squaring her shoulders as she entered the lion's den.
The little boy looked up quickly as Willow entered the room, but deciding she was no one potentially threatening or interesting, continued to clutch on to the broken piece of rubber and sob.
"Elliot…" Willow sighed, threw off her shoes and sat down on the floor beside her son. "Sweetheart, it was only a balloon."
It was the wrong thing to say.
Elliot turned to his mother with all the focused rage of an affronted four-year-old. His voice reaching a previously unknown octave, he let out the full range of his misery.
"IT WASN'T JUST A BALLOON MOMEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
That being said, the little boy threw himself on the floor, exchanging his wails for a very impressive if-looks-could-kill-glare for such a small person.
Willow, resolve face still in place gathered up the protesting child and took him over to the bookshelf. Grinning triumphantly, she grabbed a book and went to sit on the couch, cuddling the still scowling Elliot in her lap.
"Honey, I know how much you loved your balloon, I loved it too. Balloons are fun and floaty and they follow you around like a faithful little puppy… that is oddly round and light and hanging in the air."
Elliot looked at Willow doubtfully. "Okay so maybe not so much a puppy then."
Against his will, a smile formed on the little boys lips as he listened to what he had termed his mother's 'funny-speak'.
"What does the title say?" Willow held the book out in front of her son, who carefully scrutinised the words at the top.
"The, bal-loo-en, t-ree. The balloon tree!"
Willow smiled. "Right. This is a story about a princess – " Elliot looked up at her dubiously.
"I mean a very cool and un-girly princess who enjoyed dirt and disliked Barbies."
He nodded at her to proceed. "-About a princess who liked balloons just as much as you."
She opened the cover.
Elliot was absorbed from the first page. He listened with rapt attention as Willow read aloud the escapades of Princess Leora and the evil Archduke who took away all of the kingdom's balloons. Together the two redheads chanted the balloon spell.
"Moon balloon,
Moon balloon,
Tickle the tree.
Four balloons,
More balloons,
Blossom for me."
Willow closed the book as they both finished giggling about the Archduke and his evil knights having to blow up balloons for the rest of their lives.
Elliot leaned back against his mother, resting his head on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. "That was a good book."
Willow nodded. "I'm glad you think so sweetie." She kissed the top of his head. "Being partially Rosenburg, you know better than anyone that good things come in books."
Elliot grinned. "And jars!" He added, "But not frogs."
Willow shuddered involuntarily, "No, definitely not frogs."
Elliot yawned widely suddenly, his little back arching as he did. "Sounds like somebody's tired." Nodding as he rubbed his eyes, the four-year-old slipped off the couch and turned expectedly to Willow.
"I'll be up in a minute, I'm just going to pick up a few things. Go see if Mommy needs any help finding your p.j. bottoms, the last time she found them in the fridge."
Elliot nodded and headed to the door when he stopped and turned around.
"Mommy?" He asked curiously.
Willow looked up, "What is it?"
"Would that spell work?"
"That spell?"
"Yeah that spell that made lots and lots of balloons."
"Oh." Willow shrugged. "I don't know honey, maybe. But you need a balloon to make it work." She looked sideways at the discarded carcass on the carpet of the object that had caused all the trouble in the first place.
Her son smiled good-naturedly. "Oh that's okay. Uncle Xander said he had lots more where that came from."
Laughing happily, Elliot meandered out of the room, leaving Willow staring worriedly at the broken balloon she had picked up off the floor. She was somehow sure that she hadn't seen her last.
The End
