Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Season 3 - Band Candy Missing Scene
Title: Season 3 - Band Candy Missing Scene
Author: Beriaearwen
Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to J. Whedon. The Green Arrow belongs to DC Comics. Both are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / The Green Arrow (comics)
Characters: Buffy, Joyce/Oliver Queen
Word Count: 731
Rating: PG-13, suitable for people over 13
Buffy looked warily at her mother. She knew the effects of the band candy would wear off sooner or later, but she really wanted it to be sooner. There was no way she was ready to be the responsible one, especially not with the SAT's coming up.
“You know,” her mother said, turning so her legs hung over one arm of the chair and her head dangled over the other. “Your father was reeeaaally good in bed.”
“Mom!” Buffy cried. “I reeaally don't need to hear about that! I don't want to hear about that. What you and Hank did... I … I'd rather think I was delivered by the stork.”
Joyce snorted. “How did I ever raise such a prude?”
Buffy flushed in indignation, not wanting to think about that accusation at all.”
“Besides, Hank wasn't all that great in bed, but your father...” A dreamy expression appeared on Joyce's face and a satisfied sigh escaped her lips.
Her mother's careless words fell like a blow against Buffy. She couldn't breathe. Her mother had just told her that her dad wasn't her father. Buffy felt the foundation of her world shift and wasn't sure when or if it would land. She didn't want to ask, wanted to deny hearing any of the words her mother just spoke, but she couldn't stop herself. “Who? Who is my father?”
Joyce looked at her and giggled. “That would be telling and we have to keep it a secret. Can't tell anyone, ever. If they knew... God, could that man kiss and the ways and places...”
“MOM!” a horrified Buffy cried. There was most definitely such a thing as too much information, especially when it came to her mother's love life.
“Oh, loosen up. It's not like Hank wasn't sleeping with my bridesmaids. So I slept with one of his groomsmen. No big.”
Buffy wasn't sure if she should laugh, cry or run away. This really, really wasn't something she needed to know, wanted to know or should have ever been told. Just because he'd been a bit of a jerk recently didn't mean she didn't still love Hank Summers.
“Don't give me that look. It was just a thing. Anyway, it's not like Hank ever caught on. Man never did realize I wasn't the perfect little good girl he expected. For heaven's sake I was an art student in the seventies.”
“Mom,” Buffy pleaded, wanting her to be quiet.
Joyce finally turned to look at Buffy and noticed her distress, though she wasn't sure what exactly was causing it. “Hey, it's not a big deal. He was a close friend to both your father and I. Sure we haven't seen him since you were two and he realized the truth of your paternity, but … You know... He's really kind of a jerk for that. He finds out he's your father and then runs away.” Joyce stood and started pacing, her arms waving. “Oh, I'm sure he'll come up with some sort of excuse that sounds perfect - he couldn't stand the thought of not being a father to his daughter, he couldn't break up the family when Buffy and Hank so clearly loved each other - whatever. Stupid jerk. We're better off without him anyway. Always able to wrap people around his little finger and get them to do anything he wants. Those full, luscious lips...”
“Mom?” Buffy prodded, not sure what to do with this information. Right now she could really use her mother and not this teen in her mother's body. “Mom!”
“Oh, Buffy,” Joyce said racing over to her daughter and cupping the teen's face in her hands. “Don't you worry. I'll make sure he never finds you, unless you want him to, of course, but you should wait a while anyway.”
Buffy knew she had to ask despite her uncertainty about knowing. “Who is he, Mom? What's his name?”
“Hmm?” Joyce asked, her attention having wandered toward the kitchen.
“My father's name. What is it?”
“Oh. Ollie. Ollie Queen.” Just then the timer on the oven sounded. “Ooh! Brownies are done!” the older woman cried, racing from the room toward the tasty treat. Buffy vaguely heard her murmur, “Too bad there's no more candy.”
End
Author: Beriaearwen
Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to J. Whedon. The Green Arrow belongs to DC Comics. Both are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / The Green Arrow (comics)
Characters: Buffy, Joyce/Oliver Queen
Word Count: 731
Rating: PG-13, suitable for people over 13
Buffy looked warily at her mother. She knew the effects of the band candy would wear off sooner or later, but she really wanted it to be sooner. There was no way she was ready to be the responsible one, especially not with the SAT's coming up.
“You know,” her mother said, turning so her legs hung over one arm of the chair and her head dangled over the other. “Your father was reeeaaally good in bed.”
“Mom!” Buffy cried. “I reeaally don't need to hear about that! I don't want to hear about that. What you and Hank did... I … I'd rather think I was delivered by the stork.”
Joyce snorted. “How did I ever raise such a prude?”
Buffy flushed in indignation, not wanting to think about that accusation at all.”
“Besides, Hank wasn't all that great in bed, but your father...” A dreamy expression appeared on Joyce's face and a satisfied sigh escaped her lips.
Her mother's careless words fell like a blow against Buffy. She couldn't breathe. Her mother had just told her that her dad wasn't her father. Buffy felt the foundation of her world shift and wasn't sure when or if it would land. She didn't want to ask, wanted to deny hearing any of the words her mother just spoke, but she couldn't stop herself. “Who? Who is my father?”
Joyce looked at her and giggled. “That would be telling and we have to keep it a secret. Can't tell anyone, ever. If they knew... God, could that man kiss and the ways and places...”
“MOM!” a horrified Buffy cried. There was most definitely such a thing as too much information, especially when it came to her mother's love life.
“Oh, loosen up. It's not like Hank wasn't sleeping with my bridesmaids. So I slept with one of his groomsmen. No big.”
Buffy wasn't sure if she should laugh, cry or run away. This really, really wasn't something she needed to know, wanted to know or should have ever been told. Just because he'd been a bit of a jerk recently didn't mean she didn't still love Hank Summers.
“Don't give me that look. It was just a thing. Anyway, it's not like Hank ever caught on. Man never did realize I wasn't the perfect little good girl he expected. For heaven's sake I was an art student in the seventies.”
“Mom,” Buffy pleaded, wanting her to be quiet.
Joyce finally turned to look at Buffy and noticed her distress, though she wasn't sure what exactly was causing it. “Hey, it's not a big deal. He was a close friend to both your father and I. Sure we haven't seen him since you were two and he realized the truth of your paternity, but … You know... He's really kind of a jerk for that. He finds out he's your father and then runs away.” Joyce stood and started pacing, her arms waving. “Oh, I'm sure he'll come up with some sort of excuse that sounds perfect - he couldn't stand the thought of not being a father to his daughter, he couldn't break up the family when Buffy and Hank so clearly loved each other - whatever. Stupid jerk. We're better off without him anyway. Always able to wrap people around his little finger and get them to do anything he wants. Those full, luscious lips...”
“Mom?” Buffy prodded, not sure what to do with this information. Right now she could really use her mother and not this teen in her mother's body. “Mom!”
“Oh, Buffy,” Joyce said racing over to her daughter and cupping the teen's face in her hands. “Don't you worry. I'll make sure he never finds you, unless you want him to, of course, but you should wait a while anyway.”
Buffy knew she had to ask despite her uncertainty about knowing. “Who is he, Mom? What's his name?”
“Hmm?” Joyce asked, her attention having wandered toward the kitchen.
“My father's name. What is it?”
“Oh. Ollie. Ollie Queen.” Just then the timer on the oven sounded. “Ooh! Brownies are done!” the older woman cried, racing from the room toward the tasty treat. Buffy vaguely heard her murmur, “Too bad there's no more candy.”
End