Hey my lovelies... Still not quitting Convoluted, just... taking a break.
Damn those plot bunnies. They keep dropping me plots I don't need, but
forgot to drop off convoluted hints. If you'd like to leave me a tip, you
can e-mail it to me, too, if you'd prefer. Anyway... umm... think
COMPLETELY AU everything... And I leave you with a four year old Buffy,
and a very grown up, six year old William.
:F grrrrr..... Tequila Sunrise
ps~ God Joss is all, blah blah, then why does he make my James cry?? WHY!?
"MINE!"
Joyce set Buffy down in the sandbox, and moved away to sit on a near- by bench. Smiling at another mother, she struck up a friendly conversation with a lovely dark-haired woman beside her.
"Hi. I'm Joyce Summers."
"Hello," said the graceful lady in a smooth British accent. "I'm Lydia Elliot. Have I seen you here before?"
"Oh, no... We just moved here. I'm trying to get Buffy - my little girl- to make some friends here. She's the little blonde in the sand box."
Lydia smiled, seeing the love flash across her new friend's face. "I have a little terror. His name is William. He's light brown hair and blue eyes. He turned six yesterday, and is letting us all know how grown up he is." The women shared a smile, and Joyce commented on Buffy.
"She's four this year..."
Buffy sat, content in her new playplace and her ballerina Barbie. She was going to be Barbie one day. She piled the sand, tossing the occasional handful in the air and giggling.
A shadow fell over her making her look up, puzzled.
A boy stood over her, raggedy brown hair and piercing yet shy blue eyes looked at her. "Hello."
Buffy scrunched up her nose. "You talk funny."
"'Coz I'm smarter than you, is all."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Are not." Under her breath, she muttered, "Poophead."
His eyes popped wide. No one had ever called him that. "Is that a cuss word? Like bloody?"
Buffy looked covertly to the left, then right. Motioned him to sit down. He did. "I heard that girl over there say it. She pushed that boy right down the slide then said real, real loud, 'Poophead'. And her momma yelled at her. Lots." They both looked at a sulky looking brunette in jeans and a little tanktop, sitting in an obvious 'time out' in front of her mother.
"Wow." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Will'um."
Buffy looked at his empty hand confusedly. "I'm Buffy." She stuck her Barbie in his outstretched hand. "I'm four."
"I'm six. And Buffy's a dumb name." He turned the doll this way and that.
"It is not! It's Mommy's name for me. It's really 'Lissabethe. Give me my dolly back. You're a poophead."
He made a face at her. "I'm older. And I'm keepin' your bloody doll, cuz you called me names."
As he stood to go, Buffy yelled at him. "You give me Lily back!"
He sneered at her. "You even have a dumb DOLL name."
"I do not!"
"Do, too! And I'm older, and I'm smarter. So I get to keep it."
"You do not, Will'um!" She tossed a handful of sand at him.
Will'um frowned and pushed her down into the sandbox.
Buffy looked up at him, big, fat alligator tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her little cheeks.
Guilt swept through him like blood through his veins. He was on his knees beside her in a moment, pushing the Barbie in her hands, shushing her, praying to the God he did every Sunday, that his mother would not hear of this.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Buffy's not a stupid name, and neither is Lily and-"
Buffy's little fist smashed into his nose.
"AAAAAHHHH!!!" Holding his injured member with both hands he thought of the dirtiest word he had ever heard Daddy used and fired it off, "You mean BINT! THAT HURT!" He lunged into the sand with her, and the two began clawing and pulling hair.
As their astonished mothers came rushing towards them, Will'um leaned forward and bit Buffy. In retaliation, she kicked him, hard. Twice.
Their mother's pulled them apart, each admonishing their child.
"William! We do not bite people! It is NOT how we make friends!"
"And Buffy! We do NOT kick people. It is NOT nice."
Joyce and Lydia at the same time, pushed their children gently forward, saying simultaneously, "Apologize."
They stared mutinously at eachother for a moment, each admiring their handiwork. Her hair was quite mussed now, and each sported various red marks and bruises.
Will'um picked up her now VERY ungraceful looking Ballerina Barbie, her skirt torn and missing one shoe, and handed it to Buffy.
"Sorry," he muttered grudgingly.
"Sorry," she echoed back at him.
As their mother's led them away, Buffy turned back to mouth at Will'um, "Poophead."
Turned away from his own mother, he stuck his tongue out at her.
And neither could wait to come back to the park.
End.
Sorry... This is just to keep me writing till I get ideas for Convoluted. Tigerwolf, I love you girl. E-mail me. I think you'd be real cool to talk to. Go you with still writing.
Tequila Sunrise
:F grrrrr..... Tequila Sunrise
ps~ God Joss is all, blah blah, then why does he make my James cry?? WHY!?
"MINE!"
Joyce set Buffy down in the sandbox, and moved away to sit on a near- by bench. Smiling at another mother, she struck up a friendly conversation with a lovely dark-haired woman beside her.
"Hi. I'm Joyce Summers."
"Hello," said the graceful lady in a smooth British accent. "I'm Lydia Elliot. Have I seen you here before?"
"Oh, no... We just moved here. I'm trying to get Buffy - my little girl- to make some friends here. She's the little blonde in the sand box."
Lydia smiled, seeing the love flash across her new friend's face. "I have a little terror. His name is William. He's light brown hair and blue eyes. He turned six yesterday, and is letting us all know how grown up he is." The women shared a smile, and Joyce commented on Buffy.
"She's four this year..."
Buffy sat, content in her new playplace and her ballerina Barbie. She was going to be Barbie one day. She piled the sand, tossing the occasional handful in the air and giggling.
A shadow fell over her making her look up, puzzled.
A boy stood over her, raggedy brown hair and piercing yet shy blue eyes looked at her. "Hello."
Buffy scrunched up her nose. "You talk funny."
"'Coz I'm smarter than you, is all."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Are not." Under her breath, she muttered, "Poophead."
His eyes popped wide. No one had ever called him that. "Is that a cuss word? Like bloody?"
Buffy looked covertly to the left, then right. Motioned him to sit down. He did. "I heard that girl over there say it. She pushed that boy right down the slide then said real, real loud, 'Poophead'. And her momma yelled at her. Lots." They both looked at a sulky looking brunette in jeans and a little tanktop, sitting in an obvious 'time out' in front of her mother.
"Wow." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Will'um."
Buffy looked at his empty hand confusedly. "I'm Buffy." She stuck her Barbie in his outstretched hand. "I'm four."
"I'm six. And Buffy's a dumb name." He turned the doll this way and that.
"It is not! It's Mommy's name for me. It's really 'Lissabethe. Give me my dolly back. You're a poophead."
He made a face at her. "I'm older. And I'm keepin' your bloody doll, cuz you called me names."
As he stood to go, Buffy yelled at him. "You give me Lily back!"
He sneered at her. "You even have a dumb DOLL name."
"I do not!"
"Do, too! And I'm older, and I'm smarter. So I get to keep it."
"You do not, Will'um!" She tossed a handful of sand at him.
Will'um frowned and pushed her down into the sandbox.
Buffy looked up at him, big, fat alligator tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her little cheeks.
Guilt swept through him like blood through his veins. He was on his knees beside her in a moment, pushing the Barbie in her hands, shushing her, praying to the God he did every Sunday, that his mother would not hear of this.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Buffy's not a stupid name, and neither is Lily and-"
Buffy's little fist smashed into his nose.
"AAAAAHHHH!!!" Holding his injured member with both hands he thought of the dirtiest word he had ever heard Daddy used and fired it off, "You mean BINT! THAT HURT!" He lunged into the sand with her, and the two began clawing and pulling hair.
As their astonished mothers came rushing towards them, Will'um leaned forward and bit Buffy. In retaliation, she kicked him, hard. Twice.
Their mother's pulled them apart, each admonishing their child.
"William! We do not bite people! It is NOT how we make friends!"
"And Buffy! We do NOT kick people. It is NOT nice."
Joyce and Lydia at the same time, pushed their children gently forward, saying simultaneously, "Apologize."
They stared mutinously at eachother for a moment, each admiring their handiwork. Her hair was quite mussed now, and each sported various red marks and bruises.
Will'um picked up her now VERY ungraceful looking Ballerina Barbie, her skirt torn and missing one shoe, and handed it to Buffy.
"Sorry," he muttered grudgingly.
"Sorry," she echoed back at him.
As their mother's led them away, Buffy turned back to mouth at Will'um, "Poophead."
Turned away from his own mother, he stuck his tongue out at her.
And neither could wait to come back to the park.
End.
Sorry... This is just to keep me writing till I get ideas for Convoluted. Tigerwolf, I love you girl. E-mail me. I think you'd be real cool to talk to. Go you with still writing.
Tequila Sunrise