FIC; Walking the Walk (1/1)

[JDMeans@xxxxxxx]

Hey, gang!  

In honor of Mad-Hamlet's daughter, I present this little number I've been 
working on for a few months. It's set in Mad-Hamlet's Prisms universe, 
specifically an added chapter to his Feather Roads series. Check it out at 
www.fanfiction.net or at the Near Her Always site(www.nearheralways.com).

Disclaimers; 
Large props for the Dean of the University of Musical Perversity, creator of 
the Buffyverse, and next senator from the state of California, Joss Whedon.  
Equal props go out to my homeboy Mad-Hamlet from whose 'Feather Roads' series 
this story emerges. I don't own them, I just enjoy their use.

Archives; 
If you got Feather Roads, go for it.

Rating; 
PG-13. No sex, some snuggles, a little residual angst. Oh, and Dawn cusses.

Spoilers; 
Shadow, Listening to Fear and Into the Woods, but without all that yucky 
Riley Finn stuff. Also spoilers for Mad-Hamlet's Prisms series

Summary; 
When Joyce returns from the hospital, she, Buffy and Willow have a 
heart-to-heart talk. Follow-up to Mad-Hamlet's 'Feather Roads; Talking the 
Talk". Told from Joyce's POV.  


Feather Roads
Walking the Walk
By Kirayoshi

We walk the roads that Fate lays before us. More often than we would like 
that path is strewn with blades and teeth. Shadows with claws that try to gut 
us from within. Most of us struggle forward, over, under, through all these 
obstacles, hoping, even in the face of all evidence, that we'll be stronger 
for it.

On occasion, through mercy, or mayhap the whim of Gods needing entertainment, 
Fate allows the way to be softened. Cool breezes flow over our skin, all the 
living things around seem to be talking to us, and our existence is not only 
possible but also worthwhile. The road is soft and comfortable and we can 
rest as we journey onward, wounds heal, blood stops and strength returns…just 
so we can face the next shadowy terror with a far too wide, sharp grin just 
around the corner.

On occasion we're gifted with Feather Roads. This is theirs.

======== 

"Willow, I can open the car door myself, you don't have to open every door in 
the world for me!"

"Please, Mrs. Summers," she insisted, her eyes darting left and right, 
conspiratorially as she tried to ease me out of my car. "I'm just trying to 
be helpful. I mean, you just got out of the hospital and everything, and 
besides if I let anything happen to you Buffy would be mad at me, which means 
no smoochies later, and I'm overinforming, aren't I?"

I had to smile at her constant babble. Is this the kind of innocent behavior 
that caught Buffy's attention? The more time I spent in her presence, the 
more I understood why my daughter was so in love with her. If I were Buffy's 
age, I might be a little smitten by her myself, and to hell with my sexual 
preference. But her insisting on helping me in and out of my own car, that 
smacked of overkill. I just knew that Buffy put her up to that.  

I hated raising my voice to the girl, I knew she meant well but her constant 
attention was getting on my nerves. For nearly a month, since I was first 
diagnosed with a brain tumor, I've either had a nurse or an orderly at my 
elbow every time I wanted to walk, or else I've been wheeled everywhere, on 
gurneys or wheelchairs. I'm out of the hospital with a more or less clean 
bill of health, I can walk on my own, thank you very much! Even if I have to 
rest a little more often than usual, and wait for my hair to fully grow back 
from the chemotherapy. I'm fine. And, the Good Lord willing, I intend to 
stay that way for a little while.

"I'm okay, Willow," I answer quietly. "You don't have to baby me. I won't 
break on you." I'm not mad at her, really. In fact, I'm eternally grateful. 
Somehow, knowing that she was there for Buffy and Dawn while I was in the 
hospital, knowing that she loved them both and would do anything for them, 
that will always be a comfort to me. 

Dawn. As I thought about her, I knew that I had to talk to Buffy about her.  
I had some questions that needed answers. During my hospital stay I had 
experienced a strange lucidity, even when the tumor was affecting my mind.  
The webs cleared from my head and a bizarre truth unfolded before me. Dawn.  
Who was she? I mean, I loved her, she was my daughter after all. But at the 
same time, she wasn't. I didn't really understand any of this, but I knew 
that Dawn was someone truly important, someone who needed to be protected.  
And I was grateful that Buffy and Willow were there to protect her.

It disturbed me a little that Buffy wasn't at the hospital when I checked 
out, though. I guess she had a late class or something, but as I finally 
made it up the steps and to the front door of my house, it still kind of 
rankled me that she didn't even try to contact me about her plans. I tried 
to understand, of course; she's not the typical college student. But still, 
she could have called, or visited before her class, or-

"SURPRISE!"

A huge computer-printed paper banner reading "WELCOME BACK, JOYCE!" ran along 
the back wall, and a generous deli tray and six assorted two-liter soda 
bottles dominated the coffee table. Rupert, Xander, Anya and Tara stood and 
saluted me with their glasses, Dawn jumped up and wrapped herself around my 
midsection, and Buffy hugged my shoulders and kissed my cheek. "Welcome 
home, Mom," she said joyfully. I glanced back toward Willow, to see her 
grinning hugely.

Okay, I should have seen that one coming. But despite the initial shock, I 
warmed to their good wishes and generosity of spirit, and relaxed enough to 
accept a glass of diet cola, and enjoy the impromptu party.

Eric Clapton and the Kinks played in the background (Dawn must have raided my 
CD collection again to supply the tunes). I had just downed three teriyaki 
meatballs and some nachos, (a marked improvement over hospital fare) when I 
saw them. Buffy was sitting on the sofa with Willow, and my first guess was 
that they were just chatting, lover's talk, that sort of thing.

But there was something in Willow's posture, in the slope of her back and the 
lowering of her head that said otherwise. She wasn't crying, at least yet, 
but from her hooded eyes and pensive frown I sensed an air of melancholy 
about her. And the way Buffy was holding her, the gentle hand on Willow's 
shoulder, those weren't romantic gestures, they were more of a comforting 
nature. I tried to back away, to file what I had seen under the folder 
labeled "None of my business", but my mother's instinct kicked in at that 
point, and wouldn't let this one go. My girls were hurting.

Yes, I said 'girls'. Somehow, although I didn't plan it that way, Willow has 
become like a third daughter to me. Ever since I first interrupted her 
babbling to Buffy about their plans to make love, ever since Buffy and Willow 
first confessed to me that they were a couple, I started to look on Willow 
like an unofficial daughter-in-law. I had to admit, my Buffy had excellent 
taste in women.  

Finally, the last of the Buffalo wings was consumed (like most of them, by 
Xander), and Xander, Rupert, Anya and Tara had filed out, congratulating me 
on surviving my operation and wishing me improved health. Only Buffy, Willow 
and Dawn remained. "Here, Mrs. Summers," Willow offered, "I'll help Buffy 
and Dawn with the dishes."

"No, please," I insisted. I didn't know if they wanted to hear what I had to 
say, but I felt the need to say it. "We can clear everything away later.  
Please, sit for a second, both of you." Buffy and Willow both shrugged their 
shoulders, and took their usual seats on the sofa. Willow instinctively 
sought Buffy's hand in hers, and seemed to be leaning on Buffy's shoulder, 
drawing strength from their contact.  

"Willow," I started, hoping that I wouldn't end up with a mouthful of foot.  
"I want you to know that, well…I'm glad that you're a part of Buffy