Light filtered in through the picture window, lighting the dining room of the country estate. The little girl laughed as she ran around the large, dark wood table after her brother, her golden curls bouncing, shining in the rays of the afternoon sun.
“What have I told you about running in here?”
Both children stopped short, almost bumping into each other, and turned to face the woman in the doorway. “We were only playing, Mummy,” the little girl replied, the tiny pout on her face the one that always worked so well on her father whenever he was cross with her.
It had much less of an effect on her mother.
Buffy stared down her two young children with her hands firmly planted on her hips and her eyebrow arched. “It won’t be a lot of fun when you’re getting stitches in your head, Joyce Elizabeth.” Suddenly, she gasped, jumping a few inches in the air when she felt arms wrap around her waist, only to relax when she realized it was only her husband.
“Something going on in here, luv?” William asked, his hand coming around to take Buffy’s from her hip and caress her soft skin.
“They were running around the table. Again. You know how many times I’ve told them to knock that off. That’s how my Great Aunt Gladys ended up with a huge scar right down the middle of her head!” Buffy waved her arm in front of her face, as if to indicate where the supposed scar had been.
“Well, they keep doing it ‘cause they’re all cooped up in here,” William replied as he slipped away from Buffy. “C’mon, you little monsters. Let’s go see if you can wear your old man out.”
The children shrieked, darting after their father, Buffy’s shouted command to wait until they got outside to start running only falling on three sets of deaf ears. She shook her head, wondering why she even bothered sometimes.
Soon, they were outside the window, and Buffy made her way towards it, a smile at the corner of her lips as she watched the three of them. Her heart swelled with warmth at the image they made. Her family.
Joyce shouted, tackled William to the ground, and Buffy giggled at the sight. He turned towards the window and saw her, smiling back at her as he ran a hand through his dark brown curls as he favored her with a teasing wink. Joyce shouted, demanding her father’s attention, and his eyes were soon back on the child, his fingers coming up to tickle her, bringing peals of laughter from the girl.
Moments later, Billy joined the pile, letting out a war cry as he jumped on top of both his father and his sister. William shouted before he began tickling his son, too, both children crying out together with delight.
Even watching it from a distance, Buffy joined in their happiness.
These days, she rarely thought of Liam Angelus these days, the man who had once hung like a dark specter over her life now only a distance memory. Surprisingly, she’d discovered that, if anything, she was grateful for her first marriage, however hellish it had been.
Despite all the pain it had caused her, in the end, it had brought her this. Without Liam, there would’ve been no William in her life. Without Liam, she never would’ve found this, and for that, yes, she was so very grateful.
Almost as soon as the trials had been over, Lindsey and Darla both found guilty of conspiracy to commit murder, she and William had left Los Angeles for good. Joyce had already been growing inside of her, and they wanted something new, a fresh start.
Liam had never had a chance to write his son from his will – apparently Darla’s plan of having Lindsey kill Liam for her had been successful in that it had stopped the changing of the will, although in the end, it hadn’t allowed her and Lindsey to continue siphoning off of William’s trust fund, as they had wanted. Because of that, all of Liam’s sizeable fortune had passed directly on to William, without the need to wait until he was twenty-one as the stipulations of the trust fund had called for. They’d sold the house and most of his possessions back in California, preferring to begin their family in a home of their own. A home without scars.
Buffy liked to think they’d built something good here in England, with neither of the children knowing the sort of isolation their father had. William had confessed to her, in the weeks before Joyce’s birth, that he feared what sort of father he would be, worried he might hurt his children the way his father had hurt him.
She had told him she knew in her heart he never would. No matter what his genes were, he was a good man. She’d known without a doubt that he’d also be a good father.
He’d proven her right. Time and time again, he’d proven her right.
Hell, she was pretty sure he was a better parent than she was.
He loved his children. He loved her.
It had been a rocky road, but she’d found her white knight. He’d saved her, brought her out of the darkness into a world full of light, full of laughter. Full of love.
A small, private smile graced her lips.
Buffy Summers had finally found her fairytale.
That is the end. No more. No sequel, so don’t bother asking.
I hope everyone enjoyed the story, even with all its down points. It was an emotional one to write, and I know it was to read, too. Thank you for sticking with me through until the very end. I appreciate all the kind words each and everyone one of you who took the time to reviewed shared, even if I sadly don’t have the time to be able to thank each of you personally. Know that I do read every review that’s written, and seeing what you have to say and simply knowing that you’d be good enough to take the time to say it always puts a smile on my face, no matter how bad my day. So thank you.
And even though it’s the end, one more review would be nice. *wink*