Title: Taffy

Summary: S5 post The Body pre The Gift. A Buffy pov random thought kind of thing. Very odd. Written for 15minuteficlets the word was stretched.

 

 

 

          Have you ever watched them pull taffy? That’s how I feel, like someone has put me on a taffy machine and stretched me thin. It started when Mom died. I don’t know how she did it, being Mom I mean. She made it look effortless.

 

          It’s not.

 

          Dawn’s not helping. I know she misses Mom and I know she’s acting out because of it, but that doesn’t make it any easier to handle. Then there’s the Glory stuff.

 

          Does taffy ever break? I mean beyond repairable break, so that they just have to throw out the vat of taffy.

 

          Once upon a time I thought keeping up with the slayer duties would kill me. Now I wish that was all I had to keep up with. I can handle the end of the world. I can’t handle Mom being gone and Dawn rebelling and the bills that keep piling up.

 

          Angel called today. He wanted to know how I was holding up. I smiled so wide I thought my face would break because you know they tell you that people can hear your smile over the phone. I said I was doing fine and yes everything was okay and sure I’d call him if I needed him.

 

          I can’t really call that often. I think being on the phone with me twenty four hours a day would hinder his whole helping the helpless gig.

 

          Dawn’s in bed. I’ve checked twice already. She cried herself to sleep. I know she’s stretched like taffy too.

 

          I shrug on my jacket and tuck a stake in the pocket. Still gotta make sure the fine citizens of Sunnydale don’t get eaten by something bloodsucking and fangy.  I open the door and nearly run into a wall of broad chest and black leather. I’m afraid to look up. I mean what if it’s not real? I’ve been having these dreams where Mom comes back, only when I go look in her room she’s never there, of course.

 

          “Buffy.”

 

          My eyes make their way up his chest, that place that’s perfect for laying my head, over his shoulders, were they always that broad? My eyes meet his and I stop breathing for a second. The world goes sideways and he catches me by the elbow.

 

          “Angel?”

 

          Still not sure he’s here. I mean this could be a dream. I used to have surround sound dreams about him.

 

          “You sounded like you were stretched a little thin on the phone. I thought I’d come check on you.”

 

          It’s a good thing there’s that guy in the candy shop to make sure the taffy doesn’t get stretched too much.