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05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
12/23/16 01:12 pm
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Great post.
08/31/16 03:45 pm
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08/31/16 03:43 pm
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Authors Chapter Notes:
First i just wanted to thank Steph for checking over this chapter for me and Lauriel for being my Beta on this story.

This story is based on Mary's Song (Oh my my my) which is sung by Taylor Swift. This story will only be about 7 chapters long and I hope you enjoy it thoroughly. :)

Chapter 1:

She said, I was seven and you were nine
I looked at you like the stars that shined
In the sky, the pretty lights
And our daddies used to joke about the two of us
Growing up and falling in love and our mamas smiled
And rolled their eyes and said oh my my my

Buffy really wasn’t in the mood for confrontations after the night she’d just had. She had tried desperately to fall asleep but thoughts of the fight she’d had with her husband had been plaguing her mind all night long.

Her spirits dropped even further when she heard the impatient knocking coming from her front door. With a sigh she glanced through the glass cuttings in the door to see who it was and hesitantly opened the door.

Her mother stood, a frown marring her features and an unimpressed expression marring her face when Buffy greeted her with a false smile.

“Hello, Mom.”

“What happened this time?”

“Hello Buffy. It’s nice to see you to." Buffy sarcastically retorted, her voice a mimic of what Joyce’s would sound like had she been her normal, cheery self.

Her mother’s only retort was to frown at her in disapproval. Buffy let her hand slip from the door frame and stepped aside, allowing her mother to come into her home. ‘You’re in deep shit this time, Buffy,’ she thought, knowing all too well her mother was going to give her a stern talking to.

It wasn’t too hard for Buffy to figure out that William had stayed at her mother's last night. Oh he was in for a gob full from her when he came home.

‘If he comes home at all,’ Buffy sullenly thought.

“Don’t get shirty with me. You almost made him cry! What did you do this time?” Joyce’s eyes narrowed as she followed Buffy into the lounge room, seating herself on her daughter’s rather uncomfortable brown couch.

Buffy felt her heart lurch at the thought of making William cry. It was never her intention to hurt him.

“We had another fight,” she shrugged, feeling that her mother had no right to butt into a marital dispute between her and her husband.

“I gathered.”

“Look, I really don’t want to get into this with you right now.” Buffy rubbed her temples as she leant against the doorway to the lounge room. “I had a restless night an-”

“Why can’t you just give him a child?”

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Mom," Buffy ground out, folding her arms across her chest.

“It becomes my business, when my son-in-law ends up completely wasted on my doorstep for the third time this month!” Joyce’s voice rose, cutting off Buffy before she could say anything. “You’ve known each other for 18 years, been dating since you were 18 and married for 2 years. What are you so afraid of?” Her voice was but a whisper now as Joyce scanned Buffy’s face, finding it void of any emotion. “William loves you. Why is having a child so daunting to you?”

“I don’t know, Mom!” Buffy yelled, running a shaky hand through her hair. She pushed away from the wall and started to pace back and forth in front of her mother. “I’m just not ready yet.”

“When are you going to be ready? When you’re pushing on forty?” Joyce exclaimed, remembering how distraught William had been last night, mumbling incoherently about his marriage to Buffy and yet another fight they had had.

“I’m going to be a terrible mother," Buffy wailed, her shoulders shaking as a flood of tears streamed from her puffy eyes and slipped down her now red cheeks.

“Oh honey," Joyce whispered, standing up and wrapping Buffy in her embrace before bringing her to sit next to her on the lumpy brown couch. “You’ll be an amazing mother.”

“I killed my gold fish and almost stepped on my cat. I can barely look after myself.” Buffy’s eyes were wide. “I have a bad job and hardly any money. How can I have a baby when I can only just afford to look after myself?”

“Sweetie," Joyce laughed, wiping the tears from Buffy’s cheeks, “You’re not alone in this, or in your fears. I went through exactly the same thing, except I was already pregnant with you and wasn’t going to give you up.”


“Yes. I’m not going to say things are going to be easy. You can’t even possibly think about bringing a baby into this world with the way your marriage is now. You need to work things through with William and fix your marriage.”

Joyce smiled softly, patting Buffy’s knee.

“Mom, there's nothing wrong wit-”

Joyce shot Buffy a menacing look that said ‘Are you kidding?’ before she spoke.

“When your husband spends most nights down at the local pub getting drunk and working later hours instead of being at home with you, then there’s something wrong. Believe me, I know.” Joyce sighed, seeing the defeated look come across Buffy’s face. She stood slowly and made her way around the small coffee table in the middle of the lounge room to one of the two bookshelves Buffy had.

“I’m a bad wife.”

“No you’re not! You just need to find the passion again. The love you both once shared for each other.” Joyce smiled, remembering how Buffy and William used to be, as she let her eyes scan up and down the first bookcase.

“What are you looking for?” Buffy asked, folding her legs underneath herself.

“The photo album I gave you as a wedding present.”

Joyce scanned the first bookcase and finding no album there, she started scanning the second bookcase. “Ah,” she exclaimed, grinning as she plucked the worn out leather-bound photo album from its place on the top shelf.

“I’ve seen the photos a thousand times before, Mom..." Buffy sighed, slipping further back into the couch, feeling more miserable than she had felt the night before.

After William had left she had cried for hours. After her tears had finally stopped she had made her way into their bedroom and wrapped herself in their sheets. They used to hug once, used to kiss and touch each other. Not any more.

Buffy had cried again then, knowing she’d been a key factor in letting her marriage to William fall apart.

“Yes. But when was the last time you actually looked at them?” Joyce was met with silence as she seated herself next to Buffy once again. “I remember it like it was yesterday, you know,” she smiled undoing the tie that held the photo album closed.

“I really don’t need a trip down memory lane. This isn’t going to help. It was just another fight. Everything will be fine whe…” she was cut off by her mother.

“Everything will not be fine until you fix things with your husband.”

Joyce’s voice was stern and made Buffy sit up a little straighter with nerves. Her mother only used that tone with her when she was young and in a lot of trouble.

“You need to look at these photo’s and remember what you and William once shared. How the two of you got to where you are today. Then young lady,” Joyce placed the now open photo album in Buffy’s lap, “You need to sit back and think if this is the life you want."

She stood and grabbed her purse and keys.

“You two really were a match made in heaven and I won't stand by watching your marriage fall apart because you have a few unresolved issues.”

“I’m not ready for a baby, Mom.” Buffy sighed, not looking at the photo that was on the front page of the album.

“You may not be ready for a baby and I understand that. William loves you, but your marriage is falling apart, sweetie. He won’t wait forever for you to figure out if he’s what you really want. You need to fix things before you make any more fatal mistakes.”

“I know.” Buffy whispered, glancing down, not meeting her mother's pitiful gaze.

“You were seven,” Joyce whispered as she walked towards the front door to let herself out, country air filling her senses as the wind brushed through the open door. “And he was nine.”

Taking one last glance at Buffy before she left, Joyce smiled softly watching a smile tug at the edges of Buffy’s lips as she traced the outline of a nine year old William Giles.


18 years ago

William Giles held a hand above his eyes, shielding them from the harsh rays of the sun as he walked up the pathway to his new home.

His family had just moved from London, England to Sunnydale, California and he was still adjusting to the heat. He took a quick glance at his surroundings before walking indoors and down the hall to his room.

He had lived on acreage back home in London but seeing the different countryside California offered, he had immediately been entranced. The house in which his mother Jenny, his father Rupert and he moved into was right next door to the Summers reservation.

Of all the houses in the area that were up for sale, William had never seen his father so enthused and adamant about buying a particular house. Looking out his bedroom window now, he understood why.

Although both houses were close to each other, not like most country houses where your neighbour was a few 100 metres down the road, their backyard was 500 acres. There were gates between the paddocks that linked their acreage with the Summers’.

Nine year old William smiled as he surveyed the green country. Trees stood tall and swayed in the breeze. William's eyes narrowed to a squint as he tried to make out the movement in the far paddock. Picking his glasses up from the bedside table his father had assembled for him an hour ago, he glanced once again out the window.

William's eyes brightened seeing horses galloping freely in the paddock.

“William!” his father’s voice called from the yard out the front.

“Coming!” he yelled back, stepping away from the window to rush down the hall and out onto the driveway. Boxes were lined and stacked everywhere, more of their belongings having been delivered from London by truck only minutes before.

“Ah, here he is.” Giles said, watching his wife, run a hand through William’s scruffy brown curly locks.

“Buffy, this is William.” Jenny smiled, gesturing towards William.

“Hello!” Buffy smiled, her voice full of enthusiasm as she rushed from her mother's side to stand in front of William.

“Buffy, why don’t you go show William your tree house while we help the Giles’ carry their boxes inside?" Hank, Buffy’s father, offered.

“Ok.” Buffy grabbed William's hand before he could utter a word of protest and dragged him around the side gate of her house.

“You really don’t have to-” Jenny started, only to be cut off by Giles.

“That one goes in the back room.” Giles lifted his own box and showed Hank through the door.

“Oh my," Jenny sighed, sending Joyce a sympathetic glance.

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughed. “Hank doesn’t mind at all. It’s been a long time since anyone has been living next door to us and I think he’d enjoy the company of another male around.”

“He really doesn’t have to lug around our heavy boxes though," Jenny sighed, shaking her head as she watched Giles point to another box for Hank to carry, before picking up his own and once again walking through the front door.

“Come on,” Joyce gestured for Jenny to follow. “I’ll show you around a little.”

They walked through the side gate where Buffy and William had walked through minutes before.

“It really is beautiful out here.” Jenny smiled, breathing in the country air.

“It’s beautiful once the sun starts setting over that hill, over there.” Joyce pointed out. “And down the back paddock, over that little hill there,” she pointed out into the distance, where the horses could be seen. “There’s a lovely creek that flows through from the McCreedy reservation.”

“You have to pump your legs out!" Buffy’s giggling voice was heard as the two mothers made their way around the rest of the backyard until a huge tree came into view.

“Ah yes,” Joyce laughed. “Buffy loves that tyre swing.”

“William, you be careful now!” Jenny gasped seeing William sitting in the tyre, and Buffy trying her hardest to push him. There was only so much strength a seven year old girl’s arms could pump out and pushing a nine year old boy didn’t seem to be agreeing with her.

“How about you swing and I'll push you?” William asked, slipping from the swing when he heard his mother's concerned voice.

“Ok!" Buffy smiled, bouncing up and down, her pigtails swinging to and fro. She smiled, seeing the penetrating blue of his eyes before slipping into the tyre with ease. All too soon she was swinging back and forth, giggling as William pushed her higher.

“What’s all the laughing about?” Hank asked coming around the corner, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Just the kids dear.” Joyce smiled as Hank wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Looks like they're quite content.” Giles smiled, putting his arms around Jenny.

“I’ve never seen Buffy laugh this much," Hank said, smiling upon seeing Buffy so ecstatic at being pushed on the swing.

“Well let's hope that William keeps Buffy laughing for as long as we live here then.”

“If he makes her laugh like that everyday, then I’ve no doubt she’ll end up falling for him and marrying him.” Hank laughed, shaking his head as he stepped away from Joyce.

“Oh my!" Joyce and Jenny simultaneously said, glancing back and forth between the grinning faces of their husbands, knowing all too well plans were forming in their heads about the children’s futures.

“C’mon kid; time to feed Cole and the others," Hank yelled, breaking through Buffy’s laughter.

“Yay!” Buffy smiled, slipping out from the tyre. She hugged William before running after her father as he walked down to the shed.

“Do you like the neighbours?” Hank asked as he slipped his hand into Buffy’s.

“Yep.” Buffy smiled, and ran to the shed, trying to pull her father with her. “William is going to be my bestest friend and he’s going to be with me forever.”

Buffy smiled, trying with all her might to pull one of the bails of hay from the pile in the corner to give to the horses.

“Is he now?” Hank smiled to himself. He shook his head, lifting the bail of hay with ease and loading it onto the front section of the four-wheeler motorbike.

Buffy plonked herself as far forward as she could on the cushioned part of the seat, allowing her father to sit behind her and start the engine. Hank shook his head at the simplistic view his daughter had on life. Oh how interesting the next few years were going to be.

Chapter End Notes:
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