The rink was shiny, and she wanted to skate, but Mommy kept pulling her away. Making her play with the other kids. They were all clustered around a table, laughing.

All she wanted was to have fun. And skate.

"Come on, sweetie. All your little friends are waiting. We can't cut the cake without you ... and you still have to blow out your candles."

*Candles ... ooooohhhh ... pretty, bright, shiny ... *

Normally the girl would have adored a party, and all the attention (the presents were nice, too). But today ... Today she really didn't want them to be there. She was antsy, and upset, and something felt wrong. What, she didn't know. But Mommy had invited the other kids, and Daddy told her they would *all* go skating later.

At least Daddy was actually here.

"There's my Princess," her daddy said.

"Here you go," her mommy said, snapping a rubber-banded party hat on over the girl's hair.

*Owww ... it pinches ... *

The girl fidgeted. She twisted. She elbowed the boy next to her, and stuck her tongue out at a girl across from her.

"Stop that!" Mommy hissed.

*Why?* she sulked.

Then they set it down in front of her. A great, big birthday cake, complete with candles. Everyone smiled.  And then they sang That Song. When they finished, they all looked at her, expectantly.

The girl was not happy.

But suddenly, she grinned. And leaned over the cake. As she blew out her candles, she sank her hands into the cake and started flinging it everywhere, giggling the entire time. The girls shrieked, the boys laughed (until they got hit -- then they ran away).

Mommy and Daddy were not amused.

"Princess, honey ... " More cake, this time landing on Daddy. "Stop! Now!"

"Damnit, Hank, would you hold her? Please!?"

Daddy grabbed hold of her and swung her around, sitting her down a good way from the table. Heaving a sigh, he took a towel and cleaned off her hands. "Princess, " he started, only to have Mommy cut him off.

"What was that all about?" she demanded. "How am I supposed to explain this?" she railed.

"Joycie," Daddy began.

"No, there is no explanation I'll accept. I'll just apologize to their parents, and we'll forget this ever happened." Mommy stalked off back toward the table, and after a minute Daddy abandoned the girl to go after her.

The girl sat, kicking her feet back and forth, humming under her breath. She felt a little better, honest. Suddenly, she became aware of something hanging off her head.

It was the party hat.

A bolt of something that would have been rage in an older girl shot through her, and she stomped on the hat.

*Much better*

Looking around, she spotted her skates. Grabbing them, she headed for the ice rink. Her mommy said only big girls could skate by themselves.

And Buffy Summers was a big girl now.

After all, today was her fifth birthday.

---

On the other side of the rink, two short guys had watched the entire debacle. One had a nice suit, and refined speech; the other looked like a deranged clown. And when he spoke, it was in a really bad New York accent. "She's gonna be a handful."

"She'll grow out of it," the posh one said dismissively, before he disappeared.

The other waited awhile, studying the blonde girl twirling on the ice. Then, he laughed.

"They're never gonna know what hit 'em," he chuckled, before he, too, disappeared.

The End