Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story except for the story idea and for Tina. You want proof? Fine, search me. But you don't have to :) I also receive no royalties for this. Actually, people would rather pay me to *stop* writing then to keep me going.
Pairing: B/A, Riley's just a little bump in the road.
Rating: PG to PG-13. I don't start cussing until the fourth chapter.
AN: Wow, this update came quick. It was easier then I thought it would be. Actually, that's a lie. I lie a lot. It's not healthy. Anyway, I am working on my other stories. It's just, you know that feeling where you just want to pick up the monitor and smash it on your head? Yeah, I've been feeling like that lately. Plus I'm in an extreme amount of physical pain. You should see my bruises.
And just so there's no confusion, Tina doesn't talk at all in this, except for the beginning. You'll see. If the dialogue is at all confusing? Tough. Just kidding. Just tell me so I can edit it.
And Alicia08? Thanks for not bitch-slapping me. And thanks for the forehead description. I needed that.
Thanks to: Octoburn, Meg586, LissaMarie, Laura C, spoiledsquish, Flame, Alicia08, shahid, Tariq, and chazza. Thanks for the feedback.
Dedicated: To my bruises. Thanks for being so purple. And to Irina. I really like the bracelet. And the rocks.
*****************************
Shopping. A time honored mother-daughter experience.
"Do you think I need thongs? Maybe we should go to Victoria's Secrets..."
Shopping. A terrible, horrible mother-daughter bonding experience.
"No mom. You do not need thongs," I say, praying that the mental imagery will go far, far away.
"Why not? They might make mom-thongs. I could pull them off."
Aaah! Again with the imagery! I should go lie down by the food court.
"Mom, I don't think you should impress dad by scarring me for the rest of my life."
"Your father? Wha... oh! Right. Sex, with your dad... Hey! Gucci."
You know, if she wanted an affair so bad she should've learned how to cover better.
I know what you're thinking: I'm handling this extremely well. Actually, if I'm not witty at least three hours a day, I might pass out. Fact is, I feel like punching my parents. My mother in particular. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother. In fact, we're extremely close. But I still wanna give her at least one good bruise.
While my mom checked out some purses, I went over to the bed section. I need to buy some more pillow cases. Why? I literally cried a hole through 'em.
Two nights ago, Dad got called out to Phoenix. I was 'this close' to throwing him in the closet and nailing the door shut. I could do it too! I'm freakishly strong for my age. Besides, I could make a hole through the wood and slip him a Pop-Tart every now and then.
But I didn't. Obviously. Otherwise I'd be talking to you in a straight-jacket.
Anyway, I heard a small 'kerplump' in my mom's room that night, so I walked down the hall to make sure she's okay. Believe me, I'm still wallowing in sticky regret.
The door was cracked open an inch or two, and a small beam of light poured through it. Well, I wonder who could be in there?
Burglars? Nah.
Aliens? Possibly.
Elvis? Hey! It could happen.
You know what? I won't even tell you. I'll give you exactly one guess.
If you said a sauntering Irish man with a sexy yet lumpy forehead who has a habit of putting his mouth on my mother's, you're correct! What do you win? A free trip to the Seaworld in hell with yours truly.
I saw his black leather-duster land on my 'father's' desk, his shoes being flopped on the middle of the floor. Who does he think he is? Elvis? Hey, it did happen.
Thankfully I didn't see any more articles of clothing follow, except for black socks. God! Doesn't he have any color in his wardrobe?
I hate him.
Then I heard my mother's voice slip through the crack.
"Did you talk to Wesley?"
Who's Wesley?
'They guy' hesitated. "Yes."
Seriously, who's Wesley?
"And? What did he say?"
Was that fear in her voice? Why was mom afraid? That the wedding ring she was wearing will burn her finger off when 'the guy' touched her?
Wow, I'm bitter.
"He doesn't know. He's going to look through the Shanshu prophecy again, but there's no guarantee that it'll last."
Shanshu? Isn't that the Japanese restaurant off of 5th Street? And what's this about a prophecy?
"So, this isn't permanent? This could all go away?"
What's all going away? Their affair? Why is my mom so afraid?
"I didn't say that. There's still a great possibility that everything will work out."
My anger has turned to curiosity by this time, but I still wanna punch them. What's going on? Wish I was psychic. I wonder if I could have my own T.V. show?
"Yeah, 'cuz we know how great things work out for us. Remember when I sent you to hell? Or that time when you tried to kill me? Everything went perfectly well then too."
Did my mother have a bout a psychoness when I wasn't watching? I think she spends way too much time around Windex.
"Buffy, please. Just calm down."
Don't tell my mother to calm down!
"Don't tell me to calm down!"
What she said.
"Buffy, raising your voice isn't going to help. Besides, isn't Tina home?"
He knows me? How does he know me?
"Yes. Fine. I'll calm down. But you have to realize... I've been waiting for something like this since I was sixteen. And I don't want to finally have this, this, whatever 'this' is, only to have it taken away again."
What's being taken away? Why is she crying? Why am I crying?
"Buffy, don't worry. No matter what happens, things will be different for good. Even if my humanity goes away tomorrow, we'll still find a way to be together," his voice wavered a little, "I promise I won't leave you again. I don't think I could."
I feel like I'm watching a movie. The kind that Uncle Xander pretends to hate but ends up crying buckets later. Only problem is, I missed the first act and have no idea what's going on.
"You'd have to go," she whispers, her tears so big that they're soaking the red carpet.
"What?" he asks, looking confused.
Ha! Welcome to my world.
"I love you. I love you so much that it hurts to breathe," she took a deep breath, "but Tina will always come first. Always. She's my daughter. Had things been different..." she drifted off, looking at him, hazel eyes meeting dark brown.
"Buffy, I don't care if she's my daughter or not. I'd still love her as much as I do you. Granted it would be different," he smiled a little, as did my mom, but her lips turned back into a little quiver.
"I'm sorry. But I've worked so hard at trying to give her a normal life, and I can't let anything get in the way of it. Even you."
Normal? Normal! What house does she live in? Because I assure you, there's no white-picket-fence here.
"Besides, she needs to be close to Riley. I don't want her to have the same relationship with her father like I had with mine."
Did 'the guy' just growl at my dad's name? Maybe I should get him some Ritalin.
"Buffy, please don't mean that."
She just smoothed out her skirt.
"Tina comes first."
Gee mom, thanks. No pressure there. But I have to admit that I feel some sort of satisfaction at knowing her priorities. Then why do I feel some inkling of guilt?
"And if everything goes to plan?" he asks, hope brimming in his face.
I really hate this guy.
"Then things will be different. And you'll both be first," she smiled for real this time, her eyes glowing with the same hope.
"Well, nothing's changed right now. Night's still young. What do you think we should do?"
Oh crap. Please don't let him be suggesting what I think he's suggesting.
"I don't know?" she moved onto his lap, her mischievous smile hinting a few things on her mind. "What do *you* think we should do?"
And that's my cue to leave. I slowly stand up and back away from the door, my eyes transfixed on the floor. Ugh! Why do they have to make those noises?
I walk back into my room and close the door behind me. I went over to my desk and picked up a framed picture of me and dad at an ice-skating rink when I was four. I was already picturing 'the guy's' face in place of my father's.
I didn't mean to! I didn't want to! But his image kept popping up.
That's when the tears came full force. I love my daddy! Please don't let anyone else take him away! I love him! I don't want anyone else!
Right?
And here I am now. Trying to find pillow sheets that matched my old ones. Don't know why I'm bothering. Changes are coming anyway.
"Hey Tina." I turn to see my mom walking toward me, pink and purple bags on either arm. "I was right. They do make mom-thongs," she smirked as I groaned, and I tried not to jump off the escalator.
As we walked to the car, I turned my head back to the entrance and saw 'the guy' standing behind the shadows of some bushes. He caught my eye and nodded his head a little.
Many changes are coming.
****************************
TBC... How was it? Was it 'eaten by sharks' good? Or was it 'incredible English-muffin' good?
Pairing: B/A, Riley's just a little bump in the road.
Rating: PG to PG-13. I don't start cussing until the fourth chapter.
AN: Wow, this update came quick. It was easier then I thought it would be. Actually, that's a lie. I lie a lot. It's not healthy. Anyway, I am working on my other stories. It's just, you know that feeling where you just want to pick up the monitor and smash it on your head? Yeah, I've been feeling like that lately. Plus I'm in an extreme amount of physical pain. You should see my bruises.
And just so there's no confusion, Tina doesn't talk at all in this, except for the beginning. You'll see. If the dialogue is at all confusing? Tough. Just kidding. Just tell me so I can edit it.
And Alicia08? Thanks for not bitch-slapping me. And thanks for the forehead description. I needed that.
Thanks to: Octoburn, Meg586, LissaMarie, Laura C, spoiledsquish, Flame, Alicia08, shahid, Tariq, and chazza. Thanks for the feedback.
Dedicated: To my bruises. Thanks for being so purple. And to Irina. I really like the bracelet. And the rocks.
*****************************
Shopping. A time honored mother-daughter experience.
"Do you think I need thongs? Maybe we should go to Victoria's Secrets..."
Shopping. A terrible, horrible mother-daughter bonding experience.
"No mom. You do not need thongs," I say, praying that the mental imagery will go far, far away.
"Why not? They might make mom-thongs. I could pull them off."
Aaah! Again with the imagery! I should go lie down by the food court.
"Mom, I don't think you should impress dad by scarring me for the rest of my life."
"Your father? Wha... oh! Right. Sex, with your dad... Hey! Gucci."
You know, if she wanted an affair so bad she should've learned how to cover better.
I know what you're thinking: I'm handling this extremely well. Actually, if I'm not witty at least three hours a day, I might pass out. Fact is, I feel like punching my parents. My mother in particular. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother. In fact, we're extremely close. But I still wanna give her at least one good bruise.
While my mom checked out some purses, I went over to the bed section. I need to buy some more pillow cases. Why? I literally cried a hole through 'em.
Two nights ago, Dad got called out to Phoenix. I was 'this close' to throwing him in the closet and nailing the door shut. I could do it too! I'm freakishly strong for my age. Besides, I could make a hole through the wood and slip him a Pop-Tart every now and then.
But I didn't. Obviously. Otherwise I'd be talking to you in a straight-jacket.
Anyway, I heard a small 'kerplump' in my mom's room that night, so I walked down the hall to make sure she's okay. Believe me, I'm still wallowing in sticky regret.
The door was cracked open an inch or two, and a small beam of light poured through it. Well, I wonder who could be in there?
Burglars? Nah.
Aliens? Possibly.
Elvis? Hey! It could happen.
You know what? I won't even tell you. I'll give you exactly one guess.
If you said a sauntering Irish man with a sexy yet lumpy forehead who has a habit of putting his mouth on my mother's, you're correct! What do you win? A free trip to the Seaworld in hell with yours truly.
I saw his black leather-duster land on my 'father's' desk, his shoes being flopped on the middle of the floor. Who does he think he is? Elvis? Hey, it did happen.
Thankfully I didn't see any more articles of clothing follow, except for black socks. God! Doesn't he have any color in his wardrobe?
I hate him.
Then I heard my mother's voice slip through the crack.
"Did you talk to Wesley?"
Who's Wesley?
'They guy' hesitated. "Yes."
Seriously, who's Wesley?
"And? What did he say?"
Was that fear in her voice? Why was mom afraid? That the wedding ring she was wearing will burn her finger off when 'the guy' touched her?
Wow, I'm bitter.
"He doesn't know. He's going to look through the Shanshu prophecy again, but there's no guarantee that it'll last."
Shanshu? Isn't that the Japanese restaurant off of 5th Street? And what's this about a prophecy?
"So, this isn't permanent? This could all go away?"
What's all going away? Their affair? Why is my mom so afraid?
"I didn't say that. There's still a great possibility that everything will work out."
My anger has turned to curiosity by this time, but I still wanna punch them. What's going on? Wish I was psychic. I wonder if I could have my own T.V. show?
"Yeah, 'cuz we know how great things work out for us. Remember when I sent you to hell? Or that time when you tried to kill me? Everything went perfectly well then too."
Did my mother have a bout a psychoness when I wasn't watching? I think she spends way too much time around Windex.
"Buffy, please. Just calm down."
Don't tell my mother to calm down!
"Don't tell me to calm down!"
What she said.
"Buffy, raising your voice isn't going to help. Besides, isn't Tina home?"
He knows me? How does he know me?
"Yes. Fine. I'll calm down. But you have to realize... I've been waiting for something like this since I was sixteen. And I don't want to finally have this, this, whatever 'this' is, only to have it taken away again."
What's being taken away? Why is she crying? Why am I crying?
"Buffy, don't worry. No matter what happens, things will be different for good. Even if my humanity goes away tomorrow, we'll still find a way to be together," his voice wavered a little, "I promise I won't leave you again. I don't think I could."
I feel like I'm watching a movie. The kind that Uncle Xander pretends to hate but ends up crying buckets later. Only problem is, I missed the first act and have no idea what's going on.
"You'd have to go," she whispers, her tears so big that they're soaking the red carpet.
"What?" he asks, looking confused.
Ha! Welcome to my world.
"I love you. I love you so much that it hurts to breathe," she took a deep breath, "but Tina will always come first. Always. She's my daughter. Had things been different..." she drifted off, looking at him, hazel eyes meeting dark brown.
"Buffy, I don't care if she's my daughter or not. I'd still love her as much as I do you. Granted it would be different," he smiled a little, as did my mom, but her lips turned back into a little quiver.
"I'm sorry. But I've worked so hard at trying to give her a normal life, and I can't let anything get in the way of it. Even you."
Normal? Normal! What house does she live in? Because I assure you, there's no white-picket-fence here.
"Besides, she needs to be close to Riley. I don't want her to have the same relationship with her father like I had with mine."
Did 'the guy' just growl at my dad's name? Maybe I should get him some Ritalin.
"Buffy, please don't mean that."
She just smoothed out her skirt.
"Tina comes first."
Gee mom, thanks. No pressure there. But I have to admit that I feel some sort of satisfaction at knowing her priorities. Then why do I feel some inkling of guilt?
"And if everything goes to plan?" he asks, hope brimming in his face.
I really hate this guy.
"Then things will be different. And you'll both be first," she smiled for real this time, her eyes glowing with the same hope.
"Well, nothing's changed right now. Night's still young. What do you think we should do?"
Oh crap. Please don't let him be suggesting what I think he's suggesting.
"I don't know?" she moved onto his lap, her mischievous smile hinting a few things on her mind. "What do *you* think we should do?"
And that's my cue to leave. I slowly stand up and back away from the door, my eyes transfixed on the floor. Ugh! Why do they have to make those noises?
I walk back into my room and close the door behind me. I went over to my desk and picked up a framed picture of me and dad at an ice-skating rink when I was four. I was already picturing 'the guy's' face in place of my father's.
I didn't mean to! I didn't want to! But his image kept popping up.
That's when the tears came full force. I love my daddy! Please don't let anyone else take him away! I love him! I don't want anyone else!
Right?
And here I am now. Trying to find pillow sheets that matched my old ones. Don't know why I'm bothering. Changes are coming anyway.
"Hey Tina." I turn to see my mom walking toward me, pink and purple bags on either arm. "I was right. They do make mom-thongs," she smirked as I groaned, and I tried not to jump off the escalator.
As we walked to the car, I turned my head back to the entrance and saw 'the guy' standing behind the shadows of some bushes. He caught my eye and nodded his head a little.
Many changes are coming.
****************************
TBC... How was it? Was it 'eaten by sharks' good? Or was it 'incredible English-muffin' good?