Fault
by Red
[reviews]
Fault
Red
Joss' folk.
Summary: Bad timing forces Joyce to remember the worst day of her life.
BW...always!...rated pg16
Notes:flashbacks in italics...thoughts in [].
+++++
Joyce Summers stared out the window at her eldest daughter. Buffy was chasing Willow across the front yard, pretending to be a creature of the night as the redheaded hacker screamed in fake terror. Joyce couldn't help but laugh as she watched them. If she didn't know any better, she'd just think that they were two young girls in love, not a powerful witch and the chosen one.
Young lovers whose idea of the perfect date involved Hagen Daas and the latest Meg Ryan dvd...not pain.
Oh she knew they were, as Xander would say, having the sex...and truth be told, she was perfectly fine with that. She knew a slayer's expected life span...she wanted Buffy to have as much happiness as she could and Willow made the slayer more than happy.
No, Joyce didn't have any problems with the fact that they shared passion...it was the kind of passion they shared that made her...worry.
For the 100th time in the past two days, the slayer's mother mentally kicked herself for using her key to their apartment when she dropped by to surprise them and take them out to lunch. She should have known to rin the bell, knock, do both and then wait. They were young and madly in love, of course they're going to be making love.
Not that she would have been thrilled walking in on any kind of intimacy between them, but why oh why did she have to walk in on Willow paddling her chained up daughter?!
"It's my fault...I made Buffy this way...I never spanked her more than a simple swat on her bottom except for that one time...I will never, ever forgive myself for this...I made her this way...I made my own daughter want pain."
Moving away from the window, Joyce returned to the kitchen to refill her coffee cup, her mind a wave of memories. She had been alive for quite a few years but in those years, there was only one thing Joyce Summers regretted with every fiber of her being, doing...
"Buffy!"
Buffy tried to get through the window faster, but her pant leg was caught on the drainpipe.
"Come on, rip already!"
She tugged with all her slayer strength and toppled through the open window,rolling across the floor, right into her mother's feet. Smiling her best, sweet Buffy smile, she looked up.
"Hi mom."
Joyce wasn't amused.
"This is the last time, Buffy...you are grounded and grounded means in this room until I say otherwise."
[Sorry mom, polgara gang on the docks...Giles couldn't handle them alone.]
"I'm sorry, mom, honest...I forgot my histor-"
"ENOUGH!"
Buffy jumped, her mother's volume and tone scaring her...almost as much as the belt she now noticed in her mother's hand.
"Mom..." she began, as she stood up. "Really, I have a good reas-"
She was cut off by a shove that sent her face down over her bed. Before she could turn herself, she felt her sweat pants being yanked roughly down.
"Mom, what are y-"
The sting of leather crashed hard against her now panty clad ass and slayer aside, she cried out in pain as well as shock.
Joyce repeated the gesture, over and over, using what felt like all of her strength. Buffy tried to escape the blows and managed to roll over onto her bottom, a move that made the chosen one hiss out loud. The sudden change of posistion didn't slow Joyce one bit, as she weilded the leather even faster, not seeming to care where it landed.
"You are going to respect me...going to obey me...I AM YOUR MOTHER!"
Buffy's arms went up to shield her face but couldn't keep a few licks of the stinging leather from catching her cheek. Tears were now pouring from the slayer's eyes...a mixture of physical pain as well as emotional. What was going on here? This was NOT her mother...this was NOT the woman who made her chicken and stars and watched Thelma and Lousie over cookie dough ice cream.
It had to be a spell.
Buffy didn't have the time to think about the why at the moment, her thighs and stomach, arms and legs, were burning, red welts covering her head to toe, some already bruising. Teary hazel eyes met enraged brown ones and Buffy, for all her quick wittys and snappy comebacks, could only mange three words...I'm sorry, mommy.
Joyce felt like she'd been ran over by a semi...her arm stopping, frezzing in mid-air as she stared down at her sobbing, beaten child. The belt dropped to the floor and the slayer's mother fell to her knees, her own eyes filling with tears.
"Oh god...oh Buffy...baby, what have I done? Oh baby."
She carefully pulled Buffy into her arms...the arms that just moments ago, were causing her pain, were now wrapped around her tight, cradling, protectively, holding her close.
"I'm so so so sorry, baby." Joyce repeated the words, over and over as she rocked her daughter...the girl the demons knew as the chosen one.
"It's ok, mom, I'm ok," Buffy tried to assure her through sobs, even though her entire body was on fire. Slayer healing may have it all gone by morning, but at the moment, she was feeling it...and long after the bruises were gone, Buffy knew she'd feel this, inside, forever.....
"Earth to mom, hello space cadet."
Joyce looked up from her full coffee cup and smiled weakly.
"Buffy, hi, sorry, I was just thinking about that Treasure Island exhibit we're doing next week at the gallery. Are you ok?"
Buffy smiled and grabbed two root beers from the fridge.
"Little thirsty, but comes with the whole, playing inthe yard thing...are YOU ok? Ya look kinda pale."
Joyce nodded as she poured her coffee in the sink. "I'm fine, sweetie, just work in my head. Where's Willow?"
"Porch swing, vampire gets beverages...we're gonna go get mochas in a few...wanna come with?"
"No, you two young and in love go without me. Thanks, tho'...but I need to-"
"Do some work stuff, ok, fine, love your gallery more than your own flesh and blood."
Buffy smiled sweetly prompting her mother to chuckle and kiss her forhead.
"Let me know when you leave, I'll be upstairs."
Buffy nodded. "You got it." And hurried back to her thirsty lover waiting on the swing.
Upstairs, Joyce retreated to the bathroom and locked the door. Running a hand through her hair, she leaned against the door and took slow, deep, calming breaths.
And tried to forgive herself, for what her daughter had already forgiven her for...a long time ago.