Fic: The Smiling Girl
Title: The Smiling Girl
Pairing/Characters: Buffy/Spike, OC
Rating: PG
Warning: Character death
Summary: Snapshots of life; growing up the daughter of a Slayer and a vampire.
Word count: Six drabbles. You can do the math. :)
Author's note: I wasn't near as productive writing-wise this winter break as I should have been. But I have been working on this little piece. I think I finally have it looking presentable. Six drabbles, excerpts from the life of Buffy and Spike's daughter. Enjoy. :)
I am the smiling girl. Daddy says I smile in every picture. He smiles when he says so. I like when Daddy smiles because he also picks me up and swings me around like we're dancing. I like dancing with Daddy.
I am five years old. That's one hand. I ask Mommy how old she is. She is thirty-one. I don't know how many hands that is. Then I ask Mommy how old Daddy is. Mommy frowns at me. She says Daddy is grumpy about his age.
I don't like it when Daddy is grumpy. So I don't ask again.
*
Age ten
They already have the cast on my leg when Mom arrives. She crosses her arms and looks like she's hiding a smile.
"Okay. Why'd you jump off the school building, Anne?"
"I saw you do it once when you were chasing that ugly thing. I thought I could, too. I wanted to show the other kids."
Mom's arms drop. "You didn't tell them about the demon, did you?"
"No. I told them I have superpowers."
She looks relieved and brushes my hair back from my face. Then she leaves to find a doctor to release me.
I don't have superpowers.
*
Age fifteen
This is the dumbest school assignment EVER.
"I have to write a paper about how you met Mom." I roll my eyes.
Dad makes that face that he thinks is sexy but is so lame. "We met at work."
"Duh. I need details."
He looks towards the kitchen where Mom is. He hates when I ask about stuff like this. I don't know what he's hiding. He's a vampire. She's a slayer. I can do the math.
"Well, just...make something up, yeah?" He walks away.
I roll my eyes again. God, I hate my parents and their big secretive past.
*
Age twenty
"Got the last box in," Dad says as he drops the box onto the apartment floor.
Mom zips past both of us. "Where'd you get this lamp?"
"Courtesy of Jessica. I think it's a regift," I say.
"Huh." Mom turns to Dad. "Looks like the one from your crypt. Remember?"
Dad nods. "Yeah, but mine had a busted base. Far more posh."
I smile. "I didn't know you hung out at Dad's crypt. Was this when you guys first started dating?"
The room falls silent like I just threw an anvil of awkwardness on it. Then Dad changes the subject.
*
Age twenty-five
My dress is blue instead of white. It seems pointless to attempt to be traditional.
My mother is redoing her mascara in the mirror of my dressing room.
"Why didn't you and Dad marry?" I ask.
"I've been with him over twenty years. I think that counts." Mom looks at my reflection.
"I hope Lauren and I can last that long. She reminds me of Dad, you know? I just met her and knew." My hands are sweating. The ceremony starts soon. My nerves are going berserk. "Was it like that with you and Dad?"
Mom looks away. "Not really."
*
Age twenty-seven
Dad and I stay after everybody else leaves. He sits by her fresh grave. His cheeks are still wet with tears openly shed earlier.
I sit next to him, and his arm wraps around me. I'm crying, too, but I'd tried not to.
"Sometimes," I say with a sob in my throat. "I felt like I didn't really know her. There's so much I don't know about who she was. What she did."
Dad's silent for a long time. "You know she loved you very much?"
I nod.
"Then you knew her."
We spend our last night with Mom together.
fin
Pairing/Characters: Buffy/Spike, OC
Rating: PG
Warning: Character death
Summary: Snapshots of life; growing up the daughter of a Slayer and a vampire.
Word count: Six drabbles. You can do the math. :)
Author's note: I wasn't near as productive writing-wise this winter break as I should have been. But I have been working on this little piece. I think I finally have it looking presentable. Six drabbles, excerpts from the life of Buffy and Spike's daughter. Enjoy. :)
I am the smiling girl. Daddy says I smile in every picture. He smiles when he says so. I like when Daddy smiles because he also picks me up and swings me around like we're dancing. I like dancing with Daddy.
I am five years old. That's one hand. I ask Mommy how old she is. She is thirty-one. I don't know how many hands that is. Then I ask Mommy how old Daddy is. Mommy frowns at me. She says Daddy is grumpy about his age.
I don't like it when Daddy is grumpy. So I don't ask again.
*
Age ten
They already have the cast on my leg when Mom arrives. She crosses her arms and looks like she's hiding a smile.
"Okay. Why'd you jump off the school building, Anne?"
"I saw you do it once when you were chasing that ugly thing. I thought I could, too. I wanted to show the other kids."
Mom's arms drop. "You didn't tell them about the demon, did you?"
"No. I told them I have superpowers."
She looks relieved and brushes my hair back from my face. Then she leaves to find a doctor to release me.
I don't have superpowers.
*
Age fifteen
This is the dumbest school assignment EVER.
"I have to write a paper about how you met Mom." I roll my eyes.
Dad makes that face that he thinks is sexy but is so lame. "We met at work."
"Duh. I need details."
He looks towards the kitchen where Mom is. He hates when I ask about stuff like this. I don't know what he's hiding. He's a vampire. She's a slayer. I can do the math.
"Well, just...make something up, yeah?" He walks away.
I roll my eyes again. God, I hate my parents and their big secretive past.
*
Age twenty
"Got the last box in," Dad says as he drops the box onto the apartment floor.
Mom zips past both of us. "Where'd you get this lamp?"
"Courtesy of Jessica. I think it's a regift," I say.
"Huh." Mom turns to Dad. "Looks like the one from your crypt. Remember?"
Dad nods. "Yeah, but mine had a busted base. Far more posh."
I smile. "I didn't know you hung out at Dad's crypt. Was this when you guys first started dating?"
The room falls silent like I just threw an anvil of awkwardness on it. Then Dad changes the subject.
*
Age twenty-five
My dress is blue instead of white. It seems pointless to attempt to be traditional.
My mother is redoing her mascara in the mirror of my dressing room.
"Why didn't you and Dad marry?" I ask.
"I've been with him over twenty years. I think that counts." Mom looks at my reflection.
"I hope Lauren and I can last that long. She reminds me of Dad, you know? I just met her and knew." My hands are sweating. The ceremony starts soon. My nerves are going berserk. "Was it like that with you and Dad?"
Mom looks away. "Not really."
*
Age twenty-seven
Dad and I stay after everybody else leaves. He sits by her fresh grave. His cheeks are still wet with tears openly shed earlier.
I sit next to him, and his arm wraps around me. I'm crying, too, but I'd tried not to.
"Sometimes," I say with a sob in my throat. "I felt like I didn't really know her. There's so much I don't know about who she was. What she did."
Dad's silent for a long time. "You know she loved you very much?"
I nod.
"Then you knew her."
We spend our last night with Mom together.
fin