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The Middle.....


Buffy sat on the edge of her bed, trying to collect her
thoughts and group them into proper categories.

The surprise inspection by the county social worker
had gone amazingly well. Mrs. Kroger had looked
around the house, and checked the contents of the
refrigerator and pantry, making sure that nutritional
needs were being met.

This had worried Buffy, since she hadn't been to the
market for three or four days. Willow had apparently
heard what was going on, because when the fridge
door was opened, it was fully stocked. Mrs. Kroger
had looked it over, then turned with a smile and told
Buffy that she was a thoughtful shopper.

When she'd gone upstairs to see Dawn's room, Buffy
had yanked open the fridge door and stared in surprise.
There was a gallon of milk, orange juice, a dozen eggs,
cheese, and several cartons of yogurt.

The meat keeper contained chicken, two pounds of
ground beef, and a huge pot roast. There were apples
and pears, celery, carrots, avocados and a bag of salad
greens in the vegetable drawers.

Opening the freezer, Buffy had found chocolate ice cream,
frozen juice bars, pot pies, bags of broccoli, corn and
french fries.

Adding a nice little touch of realism, Willow had conjured
up leftover pizza in plastic wrap, a few cans of soda, a
bag of chocolate cookies, and a half eaten mold of
cherry jello.

It was only an appearance spell, and even as she'd
watched, it had begun to dissipate and reveal the true
contents of the fridge. Buffy had closed the door, silently
promising herself to go to the market and bring home
every item Willow had magicked up.

As she'd followed Mrs. Kroger into the living room, she
spotted Willow and Tara at the top of the stairs, looking
anxious. Buffy had given them a quick thumbs up, and
mouthed a silent "thank you."

Another brief moment of panic struck when Mrs. Kroger
had asked to see Dawn's last report card. Fully expecting
the woman to shake her head disapprovingly, Buffy had
been surprised to be told that it wasn't unusual for a
child's grades to slip a little after an emotional trauma,
such as the death of a parent.

Buffy had quickly assured the social worker that
Dawn had already started to buckle down at school and
show some progress.

Then, over a cup of coffee, the women discussed finances.

With Willow's help, the slayer had finally managed to track
her footloose father and had bullied him into sending her
a check every single week.

No longer feeling any kind of closeness for the parent she
hadn't seen in years, she'd had no compunction about
reminding him that Dawn was still a minor and he had
certain obligations that must be met.

She'd said all this with a unspoken but clear threat of
possible legal action, hinting that if she had to seek
help from the court system, he'd quite possibly be told
to pay all the back child support he'd racked up after
years of ignoring the existence of his daughters.

Buffy had felt no guilt at forcing him to cough up money
for a child that was technically not his own. Her memories
of Dawn were still intact, which meant that his were also.
As far as he knew, Dawn was every bit as much his child
as Buffy herself was.

And even if he knew the truth of the matter and didn't feel
he owed Dawn anything, he definitely owed Buffy, and one
way or another, she was going to collect every last dime.

After subtly warning him not to disappear again, she had
hung up the phone with a triumphant smile, quite delighted
that she'd thrown a monkey wrench into her father's
carefree, pleasure seeking, roaming the world lifestyle.

Four days later, the first check had arrived. Buffy's satis-
faction had been somewhat muted by the fact that the
envelope contained only a check, without so much as a
note..not even a scrap of paper with a few lines scribbled
on it...asking how they were getting along.

Although she'd been hurt, she'd not been surprised. What
could you expect from a man who never even bothered to
call, let alone show up, when the mother of his children died,
a woman he'd been married to for fifteen years?

Any possibility of reconciliation had also died that day as she
stood by the mailbox, a painful lump forming in her throat.
At that exact moment, for the first time, Buffy had truly
felt like an orphan.

Running back into the house, she'd thrown herself face
down on her bed and burst into tears, crying for everything
she'd once had that was now gone forever.

Mrs. Kroger had listened grimly to Buffy's unhappy story
and promised her that if push came to shove, the courts
would most definitely become involved. She would make
sure of it.

Buffy would be given full, legal guardianship of her sister,
and Hank Summers would be footing the bill.


*********************************************************

She stared at herself in the mirror, examining her
face, and wasn't displeased with what she saw.

Although she had changed greatly in the past few
years, shedding a little baby fat from her face and
figure, her hair was beautiful, even if she did say so
herself.

Well...not JUST herself. Spike found it beautiful, too.

At this time, it was the longest it had ever been. She'd
stopped forcing it to be an unnatural shade of
blond some time ago, and her own color...a rather
pleasing shade of honey and golden brown...had
taken back over.

The night she had spent with her latest demon lover,
he hadn't been able to keep his hands out of it. He had
stroked it and played with it in their quiet moments, and
had pulled on it savagely, forcing her head back and making
her arch her throat during their tempestuous lovemaking.

She blushed when she remembered one particular
moment. She had been on her hands and knees...a
brand new position for her that she had absolutely
loved...and Spike had been mounting her from behind.

Using language that wouldn't be out of place in a XXX
rated movie, he had gripped a handful of her hair and
pulled it taut, making her keep her head up. Her eyes
had glanced to the side and she'd been shocked to see
the shadow they were casting on one wall, caused by
a wash of moonlight.

It was one of the most erotic sights she'd ever
witnessed. Her heart rate had kicked into overdrive and
her body had released a rush of fluid so copious that
it had trickled slowly down her thighs, mingling with
Spike's ejaculate.

When he had brought her to one of the most satisfying
orgasms she'd ever had...all of which had been with him
that night...he had pounded into her so hard that she
had scraped her knees trying to keep herself anchored.
After he came, he had pulled her up onto those sore
knees and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.
Burying his face in her hair, he had told her over and over
again how much he loved her, how perfect and beautiful
and special she was to him, how he would never love
anyone the way he loved her.

Just thinking about it was beginning to get her
worked up. She desperately needed something to
take her mind off of...

"What shall I call you then?"

....that smart ass, irritating, big mouth!

"Pet? Sweetheart? My little goldielocks?"

Who never knew how to quit when he was ahead!

"I love your hair. So soft...such a pretty color.."

And who needed to be put in his place!

"You know you don't want me to stop."

Big know-it-all vampire! Thinks he knows ME!

"Don't play games with me, little girl."

Ha! As if she would!

"That's not what you said the other night."

Yeah...well....

"You were begging me..."

In your dreams, blondie!

"Say it...say it just once..."

No!

"I'll take you to bed and do things to your body
you've never dreamed of."

.....no.

"When are you gonna stop being so bloody stubborn
and admit that you want me, love?"

When HELL freezes over!

"See you around, goldielocks."

Oh, yeah? Well, maybe you just won't like what
you see!

With a scowl of fierce determination, she grabbed
the scissors from her drawer and raised them to
her long tresses.

**************************************************

TBC....

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