Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.
Rating: R. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.
Disclaimer: None of it's mine. Well, actually, a fair amount of it's mine, but none of the characters you know and recognise. In this chapter, that'd be just Buffy. Hattie, Ella and Marian are all creations of my mind. Oh, and Popeye also isn't mine...lol.
Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.
Chapter Notes: Just a prologue to set things up. I've got over sixty pages of this written, so updates will for a while be fairly frequent. (Being on crutches allows for a whole lot of fic-writing...)
Prologue
"And then he left. I'm so scared, Annie, I don't know what to do."
Buffy gathered her wits about her. "You get a bag packed and get over here, poste haste. You get me?" One-handed, she gathered up the breakfast dishes and stacked them next to the dishwasher. "I don't want any arguments about it, Ella. Get yourself over here, and Marian too."
"Y-you sure?" came the querulous question over the phone.
"Damn straight. Get packing, girl."
"I'll be there in...an hour? Or two?"
"Okay," Buffy nodded. "I'll be here. Love you, sweetie."
"Love you too."
"Everything's gonna work out just fine," Buffy assured her friend. "We'll go see Michelle later, alright, and tell her what's happened, and she'll get the legal stuff in place."
"Oh, Annie, I don't know how to thank you," Ella told her.
"You can make me some of your delicious brownies," came the dry answer. "Get packing, Ella." She put the phone down just as a handful of raisins came spraying at her. "Harriet Eve Robinson, what have I told you about playing with your food?" The blue-eyed toddler gave her most innocent smile and grasped a piece of toast between her fingers. "Sweetie, eat your food, please, or you won't get your dessert."
"Ice cream?" Hattie asked, eyes lighting up.
Buffy laughed. "No, Hattie, not at breakfast. Eat your toast, please."
"Where you going, mommy?" the child demanded, pouting a little. Buffy filled her bottle with watered down juice. "Want cranb'rey."
"Well, you're getting apple," Buffy said calmly, hoping to forestall a tantrum. "We ran out of cranberry yesterday. I'll buy some more when I shop, okay? And I'm going to set up the guest room. Auntie Ella and baby Marian are coming to stay for a bit."
Hattie frowned. "Tom too?"
Buffy hesitated for a moment. "No, sweetie, not this time."
Hattie nodded in satisfaction. "When they coming?"
"Later, once you've had your breakfast." Buffy put the beaker on the table near her daughter. "But they'll only play with you if you're a very good girl and help me tidy up the lounge when you've eaten."
"Yes, mommy."
"Good girl. I'll be back in a minute."
Leaving her daughter to hopefully eat, not paint the walls with peanut butter and raisins, Buffy – or Annie, as she was now called – ascended the stairs to the first floor.
Four years, she mused as she pulled clean sheets from the linen closet, was really a very long time. Four years and she had a good job, good friends, a decent house, and the most wonderful daughter any mother could wish for. Except it wasn't really four years, was it? her inner voice demanded of her. She shoved it away fiercely.
Hattie's old cot was still in the guest room, so Buffy only had to put sheets on it, which she did quickly. She'd had plenty of practice over the years.
The phone rang again as she was coming down the stairs, dirty sheets from her own bed bundled in her arms. She dropped them by the washer and picked up the phone, smiling at Hattie as the three-year-old carefully wiped her fingers on the washcloth waiting for her on the table.
"Robinson residence," she said. "Annie speaking."
"Annie? It's Janet."
Buffy winced and motioned for Hattie to go play in the lounge. "Hi, Janet. How did it go with your dad?"
"Um, not very well. Sorry...sorry to call you on a Sunday, but I just...really needed to talk to someone, and I couldn't wait until tomorrow."
"It's okay, Janet, that's what I'm here for." She sat down at the kitchen table and pulled her notepad towards her. "What happened?"
She spent the next half hour soothing the upset teenager, whilst Hattie made who knew what kind of mess in the lounge. When Janet finally rang off, she could hear the television.
"Hattie, I told you, no television before lunch," she called out as she went through to the lounge. The sight that greeted her made her smile.
"I tidied!" Hattie told her proudly. "An' I didn't want to make mess."
"So you put the television on? Smart idea." She opened her arms and gathered her daughter up. "Wow, you're getting so big. What have you been eating?"
"Spinach like Popeye," Hattie grinned, showing her teeth. "And lotsa fruit an' vegetables." She wriggled out of Buffy's arms impatiently. "Mommy, will you read to me?"
"Alright, but only until Auntie Ella gets here, alright?"
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Coming next chapter:
Some familiar friends pop in to visit
Buffy relives some memories