Acting The Part
Parts 21-23
Written by: Pattyanne
Author's Website
Summary: AU. William St. James is an actor in a hit television show. While
appearing at a fan convention, he meets Buffy and her six year old daughter, Melanie.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel
(The Series) and all of it's characters belong to Joss Whedon,
Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
AN: The song William sang is indeed called
'Black Velvet Band', but I have no idea who wrote
it. I searched the Internet for credits, but all it
told me at every site was that it was either an
Irish or Australian folk song. I learned it from
hearing my father sing it, although he was perfectly
sober at the time. Now, some people may say, "Boy. That was really
corny having him sing her that old song."
Feedback: Feedback is always appreciated. snapkik@yahoo.com
Part twenty-one...
Buffy tried to call Angel the following morning, after
dropping Melanie off at school. She got through to his
secretary, who told her in a rather snide tone that she'd
heard from him and all was well. Buffy acidly informed the
woman that his daughter and mother had NOT heard from
him, and both had rather urgent business to discuss.
"I'll give him the message, Ms. Summers. As soon as he
returns from court this afternoon."
"Thank you, Miss Kendall," Buffy snapped right back, then
slammed the phone down hard enough to make it 'ping'.
"What did that phone do to you?" Willow asked, dumping
her purse in the lock drawer.
"Hmm? Oh....nothing." Buffy shoved the phone away and
reached down for a box from one of her suppliers. "I think
we should mark down the spring pastels...maybe twenty-
five percent. We've moved almost all of it and we're going to
need the room. If it doesn't move fast, take another ten
percent off."
********************************
The phone rang that night as Buffy was putting
Melanie to bed.
Closing her bedroom door, she stretched out on the bed
and reached for the receiver. "Hello?" she said softly.
"Well, hello. Something tells me you weren't expecting
my call at the moment."
She sat bolt upright on the bed. "Angel? Where the hell
have you been?"
He chuckled. "Never mind that. Who are you answering the
phone for like that? All soft and sexy?"
"None of your business," she said curtly. "Have you called
your mother? Because she called here yesterday, looking
for you."
"Slow down, Buff. I called her. I know I kind of flaked out
on everyone....but I had a good reason."
"Oh, I can't wait to hear it. Melanie's fine, by the way."
"I was about to ask. Jesus, Buffy, give me a chance."
Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. "Sorry. I had
a long day."
"How's business?"
"Pretty good, actually. I've moved just about all my Spring
stock."
"Glad to hear it. Did you get my check?"
"Yes, thanks."
"Listen, I've got a few things for Melanie's birthday. How's
about I come and get her tomorrow, take her out for dinner?
You're welcome to come along, if you want. I can share my
news with you."
Dinner with Angel was the last thing she was interested
in. "I'm sure she'd like it, but I'll have to pass. You can tell
me when you pick her up."
"Okay. Be there around six or so."
"Good. Oh, and Angel...they're having another Father/
Daughter breakfast in a couple of weeks." Best to find out
now whether she should encourage Melanie to ask her
father to take her.
"Mmmm...that's gonna be tight, Buff. You know I'd love
to go, but..."
"I understand," she said quickly. "Just do me a favor and tell
her straight out that you can't, okay? Don't make her think it's
all set and then cancel out on her at the last minute again."
"Never gonna let me forget that, are you?"
"Angel...."
"I'll be on my fucking death bed, and you'll lean over and
remind me of all the times I...." He stopped suddenly. "You
know what...let's not do this."
Thank God.
"Look, Buff, I'll see what I can do. Maybe I can switch a
couple of things around."
"Angel, don't." She rubbed her forehead, trying to put off the
headache that was coming. "I've got it covered."
He was silent for a moment, then said, "You've got it covered?
What's that supposed to mean?"
No, no, no....she was SO not in the mood for this discussion.
"I mean...I've got a friend who can take her."
"A friend? What sort of a friend?"
"A friend sort of friend."
"A guy?"
"Yes."
"Buffy....are you dating?" He sounded amused.
"Goodnight, Angel."
"Hey, wait a second! Come on....you can tell me."
"I'm going to tell Melanie you'll be coming tomorrow. Don't.."
"...disappoint her," he finished. "I know the drill, Buff."
Her fingers tightened on the receiver. "I'll see you
tomorrow, then."
"Sure, baby. See you then."
She hung up the phone, then rolled off the bed and
headed for the bathroom to run a tub full of hot water and
bubbles in an attempt to calm her jangled nerves.
At the last minute, she took the phone along with her.
********************************************
She bathed quickly, then leaned back against the bath
cushion and closed her eyes. Two minutes later, the phone
rang again.
"Hello?"
"Hi, sexy. How's my girl?"
The knot her stomach had twisted into smoothed out.
"Fine. How are you?"
"Is something wrong, love?"
Realizing she must still sound tense after her conversation
with Angel, she made herself breathe deeply and redirect
her energy. "No. Just a long day. I'm glad you called."
He hesitated, and for a moment she was afraid he was
going to challenge her denial and demand to know what
was bothering her.
"I'm glad I called, too. How's the little one?"
They talked for a few minutes about generalities. She
told him how work and Melanie had fared that day, while he
told her about reshooting the opening credit sequence for
the next season.
"So," he said after a short silence. "What are you doing right
now?"
"Taking a ....nothing much," she quickly amended.
He laughed. "You were about to say something else, weren't
you?"
"Yes," she admitted, blushing, even though there was no one
to see it.
"Tell me, baby," he coaxed sweetly. "I want to know."
Sighing, rolling her eyes at her own silliness, she said, "Taking
a bath."
She heard him catch his breath.
"Are you talking to me....in the bath?" He sounded delighted at
the idea. "Baby....that is so sexy. Tell me more."
Buffy smiled. "Like what?"
"Bubbles or bath oil?" he asked.
"Bubbles."
"Scented?"
"Of course."
"Tell me..."
"Wildflowers."
"Is your hair up?"
"Yes."
"Tied with a ribbon?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Do you know what I'd do, if I was there?"
"What?"
"I'd pull the ribbon out....slowly."
She felt her skin begin to tingle. "Would you?"
"Yes. I'd let your hair fall down around your shoulders. Then
I would...."
"William," she cut him off impulsively, then took a deep breath
for courage. "Why don't you...come over?"
He said nothing for a moment, and she was horribly afraid
she'd been too pushy.
"Do you really want me to, love?"
"If....if you feel like it. You don't have to. I know you've had
a difficult...."
"I can be there in twenty minutes."
"You...you can?"
"Mm-hmm. Will you wait for me in the bath?"
She smiled, every nerve ending in her body doing an
anticipatory dance.
Part twenty-two...
Although waiting for him in the bath sounded unbelievably
sexy, Buffy knew it was hardly a feasible plan. Not wanting
to be waterlogged and shivering when he arrived, she climbed
out of the tub and drained it, then wrapped herself in her robe
and ran into her room.
She pulled the ribbon out of her hair and brushed it, tying it
back up in a attractively disheveled way. Reapplying a dash of
make up took up another minute. With one eye on the clock,
she ran downstairs and grabbed two fat, creamy white candles
from the bottom drawer of her china cabinet.
At nine minutes still to go, she positioned the candles in
strategic places to give out a nice, romantic glow.
The doorbell rang as she was refilling the tub with fragrant
bubbles.
She dashed down the stairs, clutching her robe closed, and
pulled open the door. "Hi!"
"Hey!" he complained, stepping over the threshold and
bending over to pick her up. "What happened to waiting for
me IN the bath?"
Buffy laughed, pushing the door shut behind him. "Oh, come
on. Did you want me all soggy and wrinkly?"
Sighing with pretended aggravation, he took the stairs two
at a time. "I have no problem with that."
"In cold water?"
"It's refreshing." He nudged her bedroom door shut and carried
her into the bathroom, making her squeak with surprise when he
stepped into the tub...shoes, pants, shirt, and all....and sat down
in the steamy water, holding her on his lap.
"You know you're crazy, don't you?"
"What? Didn't you invite me over to join you in the tub?" he asked,
smiling his most wickedly charming smile. "You naked under that
robe?"
"Yes."
"Give us a look, then."
Teasingly, she parted the sides of her robe, then closed them
again.
"You call that a look?" he demanded.
"It WAS a look!"
"Oh, please....I blinked and I missed it. Come on love, show
me your wares."
"My wares?" She pulled back and gave him a look of disbelief.
"Your goods?"
"That's even worse."
He gave the matter some thought. "Your goodies?"
Buffy couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. "That'll do."
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she drew him down into
a long, lingering kiss.
"I just now thought of something," he said when they broke
contact.
"What's that?"
"These jeans I'm wearing are pretty tight. I'm gonna have a devil
of a time peeling them off."
"Well, I'll help you with that problem."
"Thanks. Hate to impose."
"I really don't mind."
*********************************************
"Isn't this nice, now? You and me...tub full of hot water
and bubbles that are failing to hide your considerable
charms...candlelight. I'll tell you, love...I'm a happy man."
His jeans and shirt were hanging off the hook on the back
of the door, dripping steadily onto a bunched up towel next
to his shoes and socks.
Buffy leaned back into his embrace, her body completely
relaxed and docile under his touch.
"This is pretty," he murmured, tugging on her hair ribbon.
"Black velvet looks lovely in your hair."
"Thank you."
"Her eyes, they shone just like diamonds," he sang
softly.
"You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulders
Tied up with a black velvet band..."
She tilted her head back and looked at him. "That was
nice. Where'd you learn that?"
"It's something my granddad used to sing. Some Irish folk
song," he explained, picking up a sponge and holding it out
for her to squirt body wash into. "He was always bursting
into song when he got drunk as a bloody lord." He chuckled.
"Drove my gran stark starin' mad."
"Getting drunk or bursting into song?"
"Both."
Smiling, she asked, "Is there more to it?"
"Oh, yeah, quite a bit." His arms encircled her waist, giving
it a squeeze. "Why? Do you want to hear it?"
"Yeah."
"Let me think a minute. And please remember I never
claimed to be a good singer."
"In a neat little town they call Belfast
Apprenticed to trade I was bound
And many's the hour of sweet happiness
I spent in that neat little town
Till blasted misfortune befell me
And caused me to stray from the land
Far away from my friends and relations
To follow her black velvet band.."
"Why do I get the feeling this is going to end badly?"
Buffy interjected.
He shrugged. "Could be the 'blasted misfortune' part."
"Could be. So, THEN what happened?"
"Be quiet and I'll tell you."
"Sorry."
"I was out strolling one evening
Not meaning to go very far
When I met with a pretty young damsel
She was selling her trade in the bar..."
"WHAT?! She was a PROSTITUTE!?"
"That's the part my gran hated the most."
"What a song!"
"Wait, it gets better."
"Then a watch she took from a customer
And slipped it right into my hand
Then the law came and put me in prison
Bad luck to her black velvet band"
"A prostitute AND a pick-pocket? What kind of song
IS this, anyway?"
"Next morning before judge and jury
For trial I had to appear
And the judge he said, Me young fellow,
The case against you is quite clear
And seven long years is your sentence
You're goin' to Van Diemen's land
Far away from your friends and relations
To follow the black velvet band.."
"Now this last part is the moral of the story."
"I can't wait."
"So come all you jolly young fellas
I'll have you take warning by me
And if ever you're out on the liquor, me lads
Beware of the pretty colleens
For they'll fill you with whiskey and porter
Till you are not able to stand
And the very next thing that you know, me lads
You've landed in Van Diemen's land.."
"What's Van Diemen's land?"
"Penal colony in Tasmania. Now, big finish."
"Her eyes they shone just like diamonds
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulders
Tied up with a black velvet band.."
"So...she gets off scot free?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
"And your grandfather taught you that song?"
"Among others. Some of which I can't sing in the
presence of a lady."
"I think I would like him."
William smiled, lifting her right arm and running the soapy
sponge up and down. "He'll definitely like you. He's seventy-
nine years old, and he still has an eye for a pretty girl."
"And how does your grandmother feel about that?"
"She says that as long as the pretty girls don't develop
an eye for him, she'll hold her peace."
He washed up and down her left arm, then leaned back in
the tub again, sliding his hands over her slick skin.
Several minutes passed in blissful quiet, then...
"Buffy?"
"Hmm?"
"Did I mention I had a long and difficult day?"
"I think you did."
"How are you at scrubbing backs?"
"I'm an expert."
They traded places in the tub. Buffy re-soaped her
sponge, plying it up and down William's nicely
muscled back. Rinsing all the soap off, she gave in
to a sudden impulse and leaned over, kissing the
scattering of light freckles on his left shoulder blade.
"You're right," he said softly, leaning back into her
touch. "You're an expert."
"I aim to please."
"You succeed beautifully."
He turned around and took the sponge away, tossing it
into the cooling bath water with a 'plop'. "Now...come
here."
"I...uh...Will...William?"
"Hmm?"
"In the bathtub?"
"Just the preliminaries," he promised. "We'll save the main
event for the bed, but I just have to feel your naked wet skin
all over me...so hold still."
Buffy tried, but it wasn't easy.
He lowered his body against hers, surrounding her with his
heat and strength. The 'naked wet skin' situation was
producing some marvelous sensations, and she purposely
wriggled closer, locking her arms around his neck.
His hard, possessive kiss took her by surprise. Vibrant
and strong, he pressed her back into the slick porcelain
surface of the bathtub, then rose to his knees, taking her
with him.
The next kiss was slow and sweet, as his hands moved
up and down her back, then held her around her waist.
The bubbles had dissolved completely away, and the
water was becoming unpleasantly cold. Somewhere in her
lust addled mind, Buffy decided it was time to move on to
the next level.
Pulling back, she gasped for air. "Do you...do you want to
go to bed?"
"More than life itself," he panted, nodding.
****************************************
Once again, he took her by surprise by picking her
up off her feet. Playfully, he tossed her into the middle
of the bed.
Rising up on her elbows, Buffy watched him advance on
her slowly. When he knelt on the mattress, she scooted
backwards towards the headboard.
William caught her ankle before it was out of reach, then
yanked her back down until she was lying prone beneath
him.
Looking down between them, it was hard not to stare. His
penis jutted out from his body, long and thick, and heavy.
"See something you want?" he murmured, leaning down
to nuzzle her throat.
She tried to swallow, but her throat felt dry. "Yes."
He thrust his hips forward a little. "Help yourself."
They stared into each other's eyes in the dimly shadowed
room. William reached for her hand, then drew it down
towards his groin.
Her fingers wrapped firmly around his shaft. Keeping
his hand over hers, he moved it up and down his hard
flesh, slowly at first, then a bit faster, a little rougher.
"Touch me," he pleaded, his voice soft and intense. "Squeeze
me with your...soft little fingers. Please."
Buffy was hypnotized by the whole experience, by every-
thing she saw and felt. His eyes, darkened with passion
and need; the thick length of his penis with it's velvety
skin and throbbing veins; his hot, damp body, thrust so
willingly into her grasp....it was all so electrifying.
Her heart beat at a wild pace as his fingers tightened
a bit more, roughly moving her fist in a circular motion,
spreading the fluid he was emitting until his penis was
slick with it, then pumping her hand slowly up and down.
"Buffy..." His voice was a husky whisper. "Do you want
me? Like I want you?"
The force of his obvious desire was making her shiver,
a giddy chase down her spine. "I want you," she told
him, pressing her lips against his chest. "I need you."
Lowering his head, he slipped his tongue between
her kiss swollen lips. "Baby....I'm yours."
He released her hand. Sliding his left arm beneath her
neck, he leaned his weight on it and sent his right hand
down to play between her legs.
His body was almost vibrating with a pleasure of its
own as he slid his forefinger over her mound, between
the moist folds of her labia.
She inhaled sharply, and he smiled at the sound,
moving his fingers tenderly around her clit, spreading
her wetness. "That's my girl."
Bending his head, he thrust his tongue into her
mouth with the same seductive swirling rhythm
as his hand. Buffy was becoming even more aroused
by the wet sounds his fingers made as they played
with her.
It wasn't long before she needed more. Spreading her
legs farther apart, she reached down and took hold of
his penis, placing it at the entrance to her body. The tip
slipped in, then he pulled back with a gasp.
"Sweetheart....I left in such a hurry....I didn't bring
anything..."
She knew what he meant. "It's all right. My period's due
in the next day or so. We're safe."
William looked into her eyes. "Buffy....you DO know that
if anything...."
She cut off the rest of his sentence by raising her hips,
taking him in further.
A ragged sigh shuddered out of him. He flexed the muscles
of his buttocks, rocking against her small thrusts, burying
himself to the hilt inside her.
"God....you're so tight," he said against her throat. "Feel so
amazing."
Buffy's entire body was tingling as her hips bucked up to
meet every thrust. Her hands slipped down his back, finding
the hard curve of his rump and clutching it, feeling those
muscles working.
William angled himself so that every gliding motion of
his body stimulated her clit, making her even wetter and
more willing than she already was.
The bedsprings squeaked in the darkened room, the only
other sound besides the slap of their flesh and their harsh
panting.
As the tension built, he began to bear down harder and
thrust deeper, moaning soft, incomprehensible words of
pure lust.
He knew he wasn't winning any awards for finesse at
the moment, but he was so turned on that he couldn't
help it. And she seemed to be enjoying what he was
doing; the wild, unrestrained pounding he was delivering.
Raising his head, he leaned down and pressed his
hungry mouth against her heaving breast, nuzzling
and leaving a wet trail over their smooth surface, then
latching on to one nipple and sucking hungrily.
Buffy's nails dug into his shoulders as she hissed
in air through clenched teeth. Her back arched in-
voluntarily, pushing her breast more deeply into his
mouth.
His sucking matched the rhythm of his strokes, and
he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. Wanting
her pleasure to come first, he searched blindly between
her thighs and fondled her clit, flicking the wet knot of
flesh with his finger, then squeezing and rubbing it gently.
Orgasm blindsided her, taking her down in a wave of
bright lights and tumultuous shudders. It was so
overwhelming that it was almost a struggle to breathe.
William thrust into her three more times, then let
it all go, releasing himself into her deepest reaches,
then collapsing heavily in her arms.
It was such a wonderful feeling, having him so completely
on her and inside of her, that breathing properly was the
last thing on her mind.
***************************************
She threw his clothes into the dryer, then ran back
upstairs and rejoined him in bed for post coital
snuggling that quickly turned to more energetic
activities.
An hour later, they stood at the front door, exchanging
final kisses goodnight.
"Listen," William said, squeezing her hand, "how about
I come and get you two tomorrow night? We could go and
get some dinner."
"I'd love to....but Angel is coming to pick Melanie up for
dinner."
She watched his face carefully, but he was a consummate
actor and wiped the slightly disgruntled look off before it
really registered.
"Well, just you and I then? We'll go someplace nice."
"All right."
"Great. You get all dressed up fancy. I want to impress
you. Pick you up at 7:00?"
Perfect. Angel would gone by then.
She nodded. "Seven is fine."
Part twenty-three...
Buffy placed a bowl of cereal in front of Melanie, then
sat down opposite her. She dumped a spoonful of
sugar into her coffee, stirring it for a moment before
replacing the spoon on the table.
"Your dad called last night," she said casually, taking
a sip of her coffee.
Melanie just kept on eating.
Inhaling a deep breath, Buffy went on. "He wants to take
you out for some dinner tonight and give you your birth-
day gifts. Won't that be fun?"
"Uh-huh," her daughter nodded, chasing stray Cheerios
around the outer rim of the bowl with her spoon. "Are you
coming, too?"
Buffy hadn't expected that particular question, and it
threw her for a moment. "No, sweetie, not tonight. This
is just for you and your dad," she said, hoping the child
would let it go at that.
Melanie looked up. "Then you'll be all by yourself."
Well, there was no getting around it. Buffy knew that if
Melanie thought her mother was indeed sitting around
on her own she'd fret about it.
"Actually...William asked me out to dinner, so..."
Buffy braced herself for a protest of some kind, but
Melanie surprised her by smiling brightly. "Are you
going to go?" she asked eagerly.
Buffy sat back and studied her daughter's expressive
face. "Yes," she said slowly. "But I'll make sure I'm
home before you."
"Okay." Melanie climbed down from her chair and
ran upstairs to brush her teeth.
It wasn't difficult to figure out what was going through
the little girl's mind. Melanie was still heavily into the
notion of William taking over the usually vacant position
of 'Daddy' in her life, but in order for THAT to happen,
Buffy had to be on the bandwagon as well.
Using the child's simple logic: Mommy + William+
going out alone on a date = falling in love, which would
lead quickly to marriage, the end result would be
'brand new daddy'.
But as much as Buffy was beginning to warm to the
idea herself, she wasn't ready to pin her dreams on it.
She wasn't even certain exactly how she felt about him
yet.
Just because her heart began beating double time
in her chest every time she saw him, and chills raced
up and down her spine when she heard his voice, and
her body turned to pliable clay in his hands when he
touched her....well, all that didn't necessarily mean that
she was in love with him.
She'd only known him for a very short time, less than
ten days. How could she possibly be in love with him?
"I can't be," she said firmly, clearing the dishes off the
table and carrying them out to the kitchen. She twisted
the faucets on and waited for the water to run hot, then
squirted a glob of Ivory dish soap into the sink and let it
fill. "It's way too soon to even think about something
like that."
Turning off the water, she dried her hands on a paper
towel and left the dishes to soak, then took Melanie's
lunch box out of the fridge and went to wait for her at
the bottom of the stairs.
And it wasn't as though he'd come out and said anything
about love to her. Yes, he'd MADE love to her, wonderfully
passionate love, and he'd said all the right things as he did
so, but the only one he'd openly declared himself to
was Melanie.
Of course....SHE hadn't said anything either. Maybe he
was waiting for her, for some signal that she was ready
to be responsive to such a declaration.
He'd admitted that he'd never been in a serious relationship
before meeting her. That meant that he did indeed consider
their relationship to be a 'serious' one, didn't it?
And if that was true, how serious was it for him? How
serious did she want it to be? What if his idea of serious
wasn't the same as her's. What if.....
"What if you stop asking 'what if'?" she ordered herself,
shaking off the introspective mood she'd fallen into, and
smiling at her daughter as she skipped down the stairs.
Melanie picked up her lunch box and backpack,
waiting on the porch for Buffy to lock up the house. She
hopped an imaginary hopscotch board across the lawn
to the driveway, then climbed into the car and plopped
herself down in her booster seat.
Buffy buckled her in, handing her the pair of bright yellow
plastic dark glasses shaped like daisies she'd bought to
shield the child's eyes from the bright morning glare of
the sun.
In the driver's seat, she keyed the ignition, then glanced
at Melanie in the rear view mirror. "Flaps down?"
"Check!" her daughter responded brightly.
"Landing gear up?"
"Check!"
"Ready to rock?"
"Ready to roll!"
Turning up the radio, Buffy backed out of the driveway and
headed for Sunnydale Elementary School.
*****************************************
She moved through the day without once losing the
sense of giddy expectancy she'd woken up with.
The prospect of going out with William alone kept her
emotions churning, giving her a boost of adrenalin that
kept her moving and busy.
Turning over the store to Willow and Anya at noon, she
ran down to the salon on the first floor and had her hair
washed, conditioned and trimmed. While she was there,
she decided to splurge and have her nails done as well.
She picked Melanie up at 2:30, listening to her
chatter all the way home about a prospective field trip to
visit a real farm. Apparently, the opportunity to milk a cow
was going to be made available to the children, as well
as the chance to see baby chicks hatching.
Buffy made all the right responses, even though her mind
was only halfway attentive. She promised to sign the
permission slip immediately upon arriving home after
Melanie informed her that the children who returned them
promptly would earn a smiley face sticker on their weekly
progress chart. If enough of these stickers were
accumulated in the allotted time, they could be ex-
changed for small treats from the student store on Friday
afternoon.
At four o'clock, she took her daughter upstairs and
gave her a bath, then supervised her choice of wardrobe.
By five thirty, she had Melanie dried and dressed, her
hair neatly brushed.
Parking her in front of the television, Buffy popped a
video into the VCR and dashed back upstairs to bathe.
She pinned her hair up and sank into a tub of steaming,
fragrant water. Too on edge to linger, she washed
herself from top to bottom with rose scented
body wash, then shaved her underarms and legs to a
satiny smoothness.
Pulling the plug, she let the water drain out and
wrapped herself in a towel She stood at the sink and
brushed her teeth, rinsing with a peppermint smelling
mouthwash.
Back in her bedroom, she made up her face...giving
herself a more dramatic 'evening' look...and brushed
her hair till it gleamed in the lamplight.
"Not bad," she said to her reflection when she was
done. "For an old mom, you look pretty darn good."
She gave herself one last smile in the mirror before
diving into her closet for the 'little black dress' that had
been hanging in the back of it for months. She'd bought
it on impulse, with no clue as to when she might have
an opportunity to wear it.
The dress was short and clung nicely to her curves,
with a scooped neckline that revealed a great deal more
than she normally cared to.
Laying the dress out on her bed, she donned a lacy
black bra and panty set that she'd hardly ever worn. A
pair of sheer stockings encased her legs, held up by
an elastic band of lace on her upper thighs.
When she was satisfied by all aspects of her appear-
ance, she gave herself a final once over in the mirror,
pleased with the results.
"You know," her reflection seemed to say, "for someone
who's not in love, you're really pulling out all the stops."
She grabbed an evening bag and loaded her essentials
into it, ignoring the comment.
As she walked downstairs to join Melanie in the front
room, she heard the tinkling chime of her brass mantle
clock strike 6:00 p.m.
********************************************
The promised time of Angel's arrival came and
went with no sign of him.
Buffy sat on the couch beside Melanie, only getting
up once to replace 'Cinderella' with 'The Lion King'.
6:15 passed, then 6:30, then 6:45. By five minutes
to seven, she was internally climbing the walls, feeling
that old familiar anger towards her ex-husband begin
to stir inside her.
Forcing herself to remain calm, she stared at the
television without really seeing any of the action on
screen.
Although she was by no means surprised by Angel's
non-appearance, her irritation at it was approaching
a level she'd not felt since divorcing his worthless
hide.
"Maybe he forgot," a little voice piped softly.
Turning to meet her daughter's eyes, Buffy swallowed
the hard lump of anger that was building up in
her throat.
She had promised herself a long time ago that
no matter how she might personally feel about
Angel at any given time, she would never say a
harsh word about him in front of Melanie, and would
always try to find a plausible excuse for her father's
behavior.
It was a stretch, but she managed it once again. "I
don't think so, sweetie," she said, brushing her hand
over the child's curls. "He might be stuck in traffic."
**With a cellphone in his pocket** she added silently.
**************************************
At exactly 6:59, when she was on the verge of
going upstairs to call Angel, Buffy heard a car pull
into the driveway. She turned on the couch and moved
the curtains aside, seeing her ex-husband step out
of the Mercedes Benz he'd bought himself less than
six months ago.
Relief washed over her, but its euphoria was short
lived when she saw a silver Carrera glide to a stop in
front of the house.
**Oh, no....this isn't happening! I'll close my eyes
and one of them will NOT be there when I open them.
One...two...three...**
CONTINUED...
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