Title: Acting The Part
Author: Pattyanne
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Rating: Up to NC-17
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
AN: Hey, check out the pretty picture vamps
made for the story:
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...**
TBC.....
(Oh, boy! This ought to be GOOD, huh?)
Part twenty-four...
"Mommy?"
Buffy opened her eyes. No amount of counting or
wishing was going to get her out of this one.
Both William and Angel had arrived.
At the same time.
"Mommy?"
Melanie's voice was taking on the fretful note
Buffy recognized all too well. It was the tone she
most often heard when the little girl was distressed
about something and was close to tears.
She couldn't fall apart about this. Not now, with
Melanie sitting here.
And the more she thought about it, the more she was
certain that there was no earthly reason for her to fall
apart. She was a grown woman, and she had absolutely
no obligations to Angel anymore. She was perfectly free
to go out with whomever she chose, whenever she chose
to do so.
Pasting a smile on her face, she took Melanie's hand and
walked her over to the door. "Nothing's wrong, baby," she
said, kneeling beside her daughter and smoothing her hair.
"Daddy's here to get you. Do you need to use the bathroom
before you go?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh."
Taking a deep breath, Buffy stood up and turned the
doorknob. "All right, then," she said brightly, opening
the door.
Her heartbeat picked up its pace considerably when
she saw William. He looked wonderful; dressed mostly
in black and it suited him.
Black silk trousers, with a perfectly cut button down shirt
tucked into them that must have been tailored for him, it
fit him so perfectly. He had a pair of expensive looking
sunglasses on that hid his eyes from her scrutiny, but
he was definitely looking at Angel and probably sizing
him up.
Angel was returning the favor. Dressed in one of his
ridiculously expensive suits that he'd never allowed
Buffy to have cleaned by anyone other than an exclusive
and obscure laundry service clear on the other side of
town. As she watched, he began walking a bit faster,
obviously trying to beat William to the front door.
But William hung back a little, not allowing Angel to
make a contest out of their arrival.
Holding Melanie's hand, Buffy stepped out onto the
porch. "Hi, Angel," she said, pulling the child around in
front of her.
"Hey, babe," he said casually, climbing the porch
steps and leaning down to brush a kiss across her
cheek before she could pull away. His eyes traveled
up and down her body. "You look sensational."
She ignored the compliment and heard him laugh
softly before he turned his attention to Melanie.
"Hi there, kiddo," he said, his voice a touch too
jovial in the manner used by a person who wasn't
all that good with small children.
"Hi," she answered him, so quietly that it was almost
inaudible, pushing back against Buffy's legs.
By now, William was standing on the bottom step of
the porch, leaning against the railing. Buffy could tell
that he was preparing to give an Emmy award winning
performance that would completely disguise the truth
of his opinion regarding her ex-husband.
Angel stepped back and gave William an appraising
once over. "Angel Conner," he said, extending his right
hand.
Buffy's cheeks turned pink. Introducing them had been
her job. She was allowing herself to get flustered.
After a hesitation that anyone with eyes could see was
quite deliberate, William stepped up onto the porch and
shook Angel's hand. "William St. James."
Angel's head tilted slightly. "St. James," he mused. "Now,
where have I heard that name before?"
"On television," Melanie supplied helpfully.
Thinking it over for an insultingly long time, making it
clear that he felt William to be of such little importance
that he had to search his mind high and low for recog-
nition, Angel finally nodded. "Ohhhh...yeah. Now I've got
it. You're on that Star Trek wanna-be show, right?"
William just smiled. "Something like that," he said,
visibly dismissing Angel from his mind. He knelt down
beside Melanie and smiled. "Hello, pixie. How's my
best girl?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Even if he'd known nothing about Angel Connor before
this moment, William would have wholeheartedly
disliked him.
He oozed smarmy, arrogant superiority, the kind
that blared, "Hey, notice me! I only wear and drive
the very best! You WISH you were half as important
as I am!"
When he'd observed the way Angel had picked up
speed to beat him to the porch, he'd hung back,
refusing to play 'King Of The Hill' with Melanie's father.
His deliberate calm had only wavered for a moment
when Angel had leaned down to kiss Buffy's cheek,
whispering some kind of comment in her ear in an
intimate way that William detested.
It was restored after seeing her reaction to it...the
turning of her head and the way she'd pulled back
from him.
William had no trouble seeing just what kind of show
Angel was going to be putting on. He'd dealt with too
many of the same types of phonies not to recognize one
when he saw it. Lawyer or not, the man was no actor.
His surface charm, which was being laid on a little
too heavily to be real, was pretty much all he had.
Even though he had no intention of playing whatever
game Buffy's ex was starting up, some small and
childish part of him was more than a little pleased to
note Melanie's reaction to her father. She was clearly
going along with all this just because she felt she
should.
The child's wide blue gaze lingered on her mother's
face, then glanced around the yard, then stared down
at her shoes. She never really made eye contact with
her father at all, even when he spoke directly to her.
Hating himself just a bit for it, he decided to make a
point of his own. "Hello, pixie," he said, turning his
back on Angel and kneeling next to Melanie. "How's
my best girl?"
Her little face bloomed as she returned his smile.
Tousling her soft curls, he stood up and met Buffy's
eyes. "And," he added softly, "how's my other girl?"
To his intense delight, Buffy smiled and lifted her
face. He took immediate advantage of the opportunity
and dropped a kiss on her lips.
Melanie giggled.
William pulled away and looked down at her. "And just
what's so funny, giggle box?" he asked, tweaking the
tip of her small nose.
"You kissed Mommy," the little girl said, then tilted
her head up and looked at her mother.
William looked from Melanie to Buffy, and promptly
forgot all about Angel. "I did, didn't I?" he said quietly,
caught up in the intense emotions rising in him,
emotions he could see reflected in her eyes.
The moment was far too brief. Before he could analyze
what he was seeing and sensing, Angel Connor once
again made his presence known.
"So," he said, a little too loudly, "how long have you
two been...seeing each other?"
Buffy answered first. "Not long."
"Ten days or so," William added.
Angel shoved his hands in the front pockets of his
trousers. "Is that a fact? Where did you meet? I mean,
Buffy's not exactly the type to run with the Hollywood
elite. She's kind of a small town girl....aren't you, babe?"
Surprisingly, Melanie jumped into the conversation.
"We went to the convention," she announced. "And then
we had dinner...and then we had ice cream....and we went
to see his house...are the doggies still there?" she asked
William.
"Yes, pixie, they're still there. And speaking of the conven-
tion...I have something for you in my car." William held
out one hand and Melanie finally pried herself away from
her mother and walked back down the sidewalk with him.
Buffy didn't give Angel a chance to say anything. "I'll get my
keys and you can get Melanie's booster seat out of my car.
And make sure she's buckled in right."
"I will." Angel yanked his hands out of his pockets and
checked his watch, a new one that Buffy had never seen
him wear before. "Christ, Buffy....she's my kid, too!"
They stood there, staring at each other for a long moment,
and Buffy was on the verge of pointing out the numerous
occasions when he'd forgotten the very point he'd just made.
"Mommy! Lookit, Mommy!" Melanie's voice was bright
with excitement as she ran back up the sidewalk, holding
a large manila envelope in her hands. "Lookit! It's our
pictures."
Buffy accepted the envelope from her daughter and removed
the contents. "Already?" she asked, remembering the
fine print at the bottom of the form she'd signed, the one
warning her that the pictures probably wouldn't arrive for at
least four to six weeks. "How?"
William shrugged, rejoining them on the porch. "Pulled a
couple of strings."
The three glossy 8X10s taken at the convention had come
out beautifully. Melanie's smile in the one she'd had taken
with William was incandescent. Buffy wasn't thrilled with the
one of her and William alone. She definitely looked nervous
in that one.
The best was the picture of all three of them. Seeing
it now reminded Buffy of the moment it was snapped,
when she had looked at William instead of the camera,
and had found him looking back at her.
Melanie, in between them, was glancing upwards,
and it gave her the look of a small angel petitioning
the Lord for a big favor.
**Which....in a way....was pretty much what she was
doing** Buffy thought.
"I think," she said, smiling down at her daughter,
"we should have these framed. How about you?"
"Okay...I do, too."
Angel, who was apparently getting tired of being ignored,
craned his neck to see the photos. "Cute," was his only
comment.
Buffy glanced at him, then looked at William for a possible
reaction. He simply smiled, pretending to take Angel's terse
statement at face value for Melanie's sake.
"Let me just put these inside, baby." She slipped the
pictures back into the envelope and placed it on the coffee
table, then grabbed her purse. "Here," she said, handing
Angel her keys.
Buffy watched as he moved Melanie's booster from her car
to his own. Taking a deep breath, she knelt beside her
daughter. "You have fun with Daddy, okay? I have my cell
phone if you need anything and he has the number."
Melanie nodded, then looked up at William. "Will you be
here when I get home?"
The longing in the little girl's voice was plain to hear, and he
had no intention of disappointing her. Without caring one iota
as to how Angel might feel about it, he picked Melanie up and
gave her a hug and kiss. "Of course I will, pixie. Cross my
heart."
Melanie, who had little faith in the promises made by her
biological father, believed him utterly and without question.
"Okay," she said as he set her on her feet.
By this time, Angel had returned to the porch. "All ready
to go?" Melanie nodded, and he looked at Buffy. "I'll have
her home in a couple hours" he said, returning her keys.
She nodded. "It's a school night," she reminded him.
"Yeah, I know. I take it you're going out, too? You should
probably tell me where you're going to be, just in case."
"I have my cell with...."
"Veronique's," William interjected smoothly.
For the first time since his arrival, Angel looked slightly
dumbfounded and a little envious...and Buffy knew why.
Veronique's was a highly exclusive restaurant, with a re-
servation list at least six months in advance.
William had obviously pulled more than one string.
"Really?" she asked, honestly surprised.
"Of course, really." He slipped one arm around her
waist and pulled her close. "Only the best for you,
love."
For herself, Buffy couldn't care less about impressing
Angel, but she understood William's need to show him
up a bit.
She leaned down and exchanged a kiss goodbye with
her daughter. "See you in a little while, okay?"
"Okay." Melanie accepted her father's outstretched
hand and walked with him to his car.
After buckling her in, he closed the door and gave
Buffy a brief wave.
William copied the gesture with a wide smile. "I really
don't like him one bit," he said softly. "In fact, I may
even hate him."
"I can see that," she replied, her own smile painted
on a little too brightly.
Angel glanced at the street. "Nice car."
"Your's too," William replied in a friendly way, then
under his breath again,still smiling, "Driving around
in a new sixty-five thousand dollar car while the mother
of your child has one that's falling apart, you selfish
prick."
Buffy bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"I really...fucking...hate him."
TBC....
Part twenty-five:
The waiters at Veronique's were dressed
as though they were about to perform in a
symphony orchestra.
After turning over his car keys to the
valet,
William took Buffy's hand and walked her up a
purple and black carpeted path. He pulled
open
a large frosted glass door with a 'V' etched
into
it, and was greeted instantly by a hostess
dressed
every bit as elegantly as the waiters were.
The whole restaurant staff functioned liked a
team, smoothly and effortlessly, addressing
William
as "Mr. St. James". They were shown to a
secluded
booth on the far side of the dining area, set
back into
the wall and surrounded on either side by
large
potted plants.
He ordered wine from one waiter and their
food
from another. A third one placed expensive
crystal
glasses before them. The wine arrived, and
the
waiter hovered anxiously waiting for William
to sample it.
Buffy took a sip from her glass as the waiter
disappeared. "What do you suppose they do
with it if the wine doesn't get a thumbs up?"
William chuckled. "Maybe they take it back
into
the kitchen and polish it off themselves."
It was clear that the wait staff was
accustomed to
serving well recognized clientele. They made
obvious and, for the most part,
successful efforts
to keep anyone from approaching their table
in
search of an autograph.
One or two fans did manage to get past the
barrier,
but William was unfailingly polite and
pleasant,
signing whatever they asked him to sign and
even
posing for a woman to take a photograph with
her
cell phone.
"Does that ever bother you?" Buffy asked,
taking
another sip of wine.
He grinned at her. "Actually....it doesn't. I
suppose it
might, somewhere down the road, but it's
still fairly
new for me." He shrugged. "I kind of like
it, and they're
the reason the show is successful in the
first place.
Doesn't matter how good the acting or writing
is if
no one's watching it."
"That's true. I never thought of it like
that." She sat
back in her chair as the waiter set a plate
in front of
her, cautioning her that it was a bit hot to
the touch.
They talked while they ate, making nothing
more than
causal conversation. She told him what was
happening
at 'Melanie's Garden' and he told her more
about the
season finale of the show, informing her that
there was
going to be a hell of a cliffhanger, but
refusing to di-
vulge any further information about what it
might be.
"I made reservations at the hotel," he said,
wiping his
mouth with a linen napkin. "I thought we
could drive
down on Friday evening, and that would give
Melanie
all day Saturday and Sunday. My secretary
told me that
it's impossible to "do" Disneyland in only
two days. I
guess they've added a lot on since the last
time I was
there, but I thought we'd just stick to the
main park."
"Two days will be fine," Buffy said. "She's
going to be in
heaven."
He looked pleased, she noticed, and she
couldn't help
wondering if he was subconsciously trying to
compete
with Angel in a 'let's see who can score more
points
with Melanie' contest.
"I reserved a suite," he went on. "There are
two bedrooms,
but if you'd rather have a separate one for
you and Melanie,
I can arrange it."
It was a sticky situation. On one hand, she'd
like nothing
better than to put Melanie to bed in one
room, then join
William in the other, but she knew she'd be
opening a
Pandora's box of questions from her daughter
if she did,
questions there were no answers for just yet.
"I think....as long as there are two
bedrooms, the one
suite will be fine," she told him.
"You sure about that, love?"
No. No, she wasn't. But it was the right
thing to do at
this point, so she nodded and smiled. "Very
sure."
He reached across the table and took her
hand, raising
it and placing a kiss on her palm. "It's
going to be very
hard sleeping in one room while you're right
behind the
door of another one, so close to me." Looking
up at her,
he winked devilishly. "Very...very...hard,"
he added,
making his double meaning clear as to what
would be
the 'hardest' thing about it.
Buffy caught her breath at the feel of his
lips caressing
her hand. "I know," she said softly. "For me,
too."
"But we have to set a good example for
Melanie."
"Uh-huh," she nodded again, staring into his
eyes,
nearly gasping out loud when he teasingly bit
the
tip of her fingers. Her skin prickled with
awareness,
and a warm flush suffused her entire body.
She picked
up a glass of ice water to cool herself down,
trying to
decide whether it would be more effective to
drink it
down fast or dump it in her lap. "We
definitely do."
"It wouldn't look right."
"No, it wouldn't."
"She might not understand."
"Might not."
"So...do you think we can get a little time
alone
together before we go?"
"You can count on it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"This is a nice car."
William turned to look at her, waiting for
the traffic
light to turn green. "Thanks. I like it, too.
It's the first
thing I bought when I landed the job on
'Outpost Space."
"Really? I would have thought the house."
"Um...no. I didn't buy the house until I was
sure the
show would be picked up."
"You're very sensible," she said.
"Not really." He made a face. "I was so
overwhelmed
by having that kind of money for the first
time that I
wasted a ridiculous amount of it. The house
and the cars
were the ONLY sensible things I bought."
Buffy shifted a little in her seat, settling
herself into
it. "What else?" she asked.
The light turned green. "A lot of things I
didn't
need, although I managed to convince myself
that
I did," he said, neatly merging into freeway
traffic.
"Well, tell me," she insisted.
"Oh....that huge home theater system that I
hardly
ever use. Clothes I've never worn. Hundreds
of
DVDs I've never watched. Two other cars that
I
never drove. Then, after I was done indulging
MYSELF, I moved on to indulging my family and
friends. I bought them expensive gifts for no
reason,
sent them on vacations all over the world,
picked up
every tab. It went on like that for a long
time."
"And then you stopped yourself?"
"No, my mother stopped me. I was at my
parent's
house for Christmas, passing out more loot
than
Santa ever dreamed of, and she made me go
into
the kitchen with her and asked me exactly who
I
was trying to impress."
Buffy smiled widely. "You're kidding!"
"Oh, NO, I'm not," he insisted. My mother is
a
very practical, 'both feet planted firmly on
the
ground' type. She teaches school part time
and
doesn't put up with much. So, then she told
me
to stop being such a show off, that I had no
use for four cars or a watch that cost more
than
her annual salary, and had I ever heard of
open-
ing a savings account."
"What did you do?"
"I sold two of the cars, returned the watch,
and..."
"....opened a savings account," they said at
the
same time. "That's a great story," Buffy
added.
Turning onto Revello Drive, there was no sign
of
Angel's car. William parked in the driveway,
leaving no room for her ex to pull in behind
him,
proving to Buffy that even a modern and
civilized
man could be prone to bouts of
territoriality.
He shut off the engine and released his seat
belt,
then did the same for her. "You know," he
said,
kissing the senses right out of her, "I wish
I'd
driven the Lexus tonight instead."
"Why's that?" she asked, kissing him back.
"The seats recline." He nuzzled her ear,
biting playfully. "I could lay you down
faster
than you could say 'I didn't sign up for
this'."
"Very funny," she said, giving his shoulder a
push.
"Oh, come on," he coaxed her. "They'll be
back any minute, and we haven't had any
quality time all evening."
"Going out to dinner wasn't quality time?"
"That was a different kind of quality."
Between the tone of his voice, the look in
his eyes, and the nearness of his body, Buffy
was finding his words seriously tempting.
His lips captured hers and they kissed
hungrily,
moving their mouths together with demanding
eagerness.
But it soon became clear that the Carrera
just
wasn't designed for that type of activity.
Too
small for any real abandon, the gear shift
kept
digging into Buffy's thigh.
"Why don't we just go in the house?" she
suggested. "We'd be a lot more comfortable."
"Race you!"
"Hey!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He beat her to the front porch, then stood
behind
her while she searched for her house key. His
arms
wrapped around her waist, he rubbed himself
against her, kissing the back of her neck and
mussing her hair.
"You're distracting me," she told him.
"Good. I'm glad I have that effect on you."
He
pushed her hair aside and continued his
attentions to her neck.
By the time she found her key, her hand was
almost shaking too hard to use it.
William saw her predicament and placed his
hand over hers, guiding the key straight in
and
then turning the doorknob.
They almost fell into the house, then William
closed the door, pulling her close.
Much to her surprise, he suddenly stiffened
all
over, staring over her shoulder into the
living
room, the smile fading from his face.
"What's..." Buffy turned and followed his
gaze,
her eyes widening with shock. "....going on?"
Sitting on the couch was a middle aged woman
Buffy had never seen before. She had a hard,
not particularly friendly face, and she
looked
highly put out about being there.
On the opposite side of the room, as far away
as it was physically possible for her to go,
Melanie sat curled up in an armchair,
shrinking
back into it as if she were trying to
sink into the
very fabric of the cushions. Her face was
soaked
with tears, her eyes red and swollen.
"Daddy....had
to go," she whispered, her voice nearly
inaudible
and hoarse from crying.
"What? I don't under....who are YOU?" Buffy
demanded, frowning, barely hearing it when
the woman told her that she was a legal
secretary
at Wolfram and Hart, that Mr. Connor had
called
her at home, had asked her to.......
William said nothing. He crossed the room in
three long strides and scooped Melanie up in
his arms, rubbing her back as she buried her
face against the side of his neck and clung
to
him.
He had already deduced what Buffy was just
beginning to realize.
Angel had brought Melanie home, then left
her here with one of the secretaries working
at his firm.
A complete and utter stranger.
TBC...
(Gee, I must be trying to get Angel killed,
huh?)
Part twenty-six:
Still without speaking, William carried
Melanie
upstairs.
Buffy heard the 'snick' of the bedroom door
being
closed, then heard him walk across the floor.
A
moment later, the sound of the rocking chair
began
creaking on the other side of the ceiling.
Trying with everything she had not to give in
to the
anger that was rising in her vitals, she
concentrated
on that soothing sound for a moment, rubbing
her
damp palms on the skirt of her dress,
watching the
strange woman stand and gather her things.
"Thank you for staying with Melanie," she
forced
out as civilly as she could. After all, it
wasn't this
woman's fault she'd been dragged out here to
babysit a child she didn't know.
But the woman's face looked as though it
rarely
smiled, and this occasion was going to be no
exception to that rule.
"I want you to know one thing," she said
briskly,
pulling on her cardigan. "I realize from the
way
she looked when you came in that it must
appear as
though I've been...unfriendly to Melanie."
"Well," Buffy began, "it's not that,
Miss....?"
"Walsh. Maggie Walsh."
"Miss Walsh. Melanie is just very....well,
she's not
used to....."
"I'm sorry to have to tell you that all she
did was
cry from the moment Mr. Conner left."
That comment stabbed at Buffy's heart with a
dull
knife. She could picture the whole horrible
scene
as though it was being played out in front of
her;
Melanie sobbing, probably clinging to her
father's
sleeve and begging him not to leave, telling
him
she would be a good girl if he would only
just stay
until Mommy came home.....
She nodded, not caring a bit for Miss Walsh's
abrasive
demeanor but still trying to remain as polite
as she could
given the circumstances. "Melanie has always
been a
little reserved with...."
Maggie Walsh cut her off again. "If I were
you, I'd look
into some psychological counseling."
She was so surprised by this comment, that
Buffy failed
to notice the cessation of the rocking on the
ceiling. "Now
wait a minute. That's not really any of your
business."
The woman shrugged. "Perhaps. But it might do
her some good."
Had this advice been delivered by someone who
knew
and cared for Melanie...and handed out in a
less curt
manner....Buffy might have listened. Since
that wasn't the
case, however, it totally rubbed her the
wrong way and
she was developing an insane desire to
backhand this
sour looking woman right across the face.
"She might," Miss Walsh went on, "be a little
less
cowardly, or at least learn how to overcome
it."
Buffy's head jerked up. "Melanie is NOT
cowardly!"
she bit out. "She's very shy with people she
doesn't
know, and having her father dump her on a
total
stranger like pile of dirty laundry doesn't
help matters
any."
The other woman just shook her head. "I don't
think..."
"And since when does being a secretary
qualify
you to hand out advice to people on how they
raise
their children?" Buffy's fists clenched as
she crossed
her arms over her chest. "Is a degree in
child psychology
now required to bring coffee and answer
phones?"
She knew this was hitting below the belt, but
she
didn't care.
The anger that was simmering inside was
approach-
ing a full boil, and since Angel wasn't here
to take the
brunt of it, this woman would have to do.
Apparently oblivious to Buffy's mounting
rage, Miss
Walsh shrugged. "Fine. If it makes you feel
better
to insult me, then do so. But you aren't
doing your
daughter any favors by indulging her
neurosis.
Children need a firm hand...and discipline."
Buffy's mind began ticking a countdown. "Is
that
how you raise YOUR children? With a firm
hand
and plenty of discipline?"
"I don't have children of my own, but I....."
"No fucking wonder!"
Buffy turned around to see William coming
down the
stairs. If it was possible, he looked even
angrier than
she did herself.
"I wouldn't get MY wedding tackle within a
thousand
feet of you," he added. "God help any child
YOU might
have, you sanctimonious, cold hearted bitch!"
Looking back at Miss Walsh, Buffy saw the
woman's
opinionated self assurance crack as her
cheeks turned
a bright shade of red, her expression one of
disbelief
that she was being spoken to in such a way.
"Excuse
me?"
'What, you need me to repeat it?" William
passed
in front of her and yanked the door open.
"You're a
self righteous, frigid, acid tongued old hag
who
obviously doesn't possess ANY sort of heart,
let alone
a maternal one," he said. "Melanie is six
bloody
years old. She's shy and nervous of
strangers. I
hardly think that makes her a candidate for
the
analyst's couch, so why don't you take your
half
baked psycho-babble bullshit and stick it as
far as
it'll go!"
He was getting right up in the woman's face
in a
pugnacious, 'do NOT fuck with me' manner.
"Don't
let the door hit you in the ass on your way
out!"
Maggie Walsh backed out onto the porch,
staring
at him, her expression changing to one
of sudden
recognition. "Aren't you....?"
"Yes. Yes, I am!" William nodded, then
slammed
the door shut hard enough to make the living
room
window rattle in its frame. He turned to look
at
Buffy. "I want to kill him," he said quietly.
"Don't
bother trying to talk me out of it."
Buffy just smiled. "Can I watch?"
His irritation was beginning to subside a
bit, and
he returned her smile. "I don't know, love.
It's bound
to be a fairly gruesome death. Lots of
blood...broken
bones...facial features all rearranged.."
"Good," she replied. "He thinks way too much
of his
face anyway."
That coaxed a small chuckle from him.
"Bloodthirsty
little thing, aren't you? I like that in a
woman." Leaning
back against the door, he took a deep breath,
his face
turning serious. "Why did he do that to her?
What
could have possibly been so important?"
Nothing. "I don't know." She sighed. "It's
Angel.
That's usually reason enough right there.
Or...maybe
an emergency came up."
"No, I don't buy that," he said. "If there'd
been an
emergency, wouldn't Miss Iron pants have
mentioned
it to you?"
That was a good point. "Well....he IS a
lawyer. Maybe
one of his clients..."
"He's a CORPORATE lawyer, Buffy. I
don't think he
was called out to negotiate a merger at this
time of
night."
She stared at him, surprised "How did
you...?" A
slow smile began to curve her lips. "You've
been
checking up on him!"
He had the grace to flush a bit at being
caught,
but he didn't deny anything. "In a small
way," he
admitted. "I just thought it might be a good
idea to
size up my competition." He gave her a
sidelong
glance that nearly melted her heart. "You mad
at
me?"
Buffy was so far from being mad that it
wasn't even
on the map for her. Her emotional radar was
on high
alert, all the right whistles and bells
clanging madly,
all for him.
"No. And, William...?" She stepped closer
and
grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him
into a quick,
hard kiss. "You HAVE no competition," she
murmured.
"Now lets go up and see Melanie."
His grin widened. "Me, too?"
"You, too."
Halfway up the stairs, Buffy stopped and
turned to
look at him. "I just remembered....Angel said
he had
some news to tell us. I wonder what it was?"
"Maybe he's leaving the country!" William
offered
cheerily.
"William," she laughed softly, pushing his
shoulder.
"Going to prison for embezzling company
funds?"
"I don't think so."
"Running away from home to join the circus?
Oh,
come on, Buffy....don't step on ALL my
dreams."
TBC at Disneyland
Part twenty-seven:
"Angel....this is Buffy! Call me back NOW!"
She slammed the receiver down onto the phone's
cradle, then threw herself onto her bed and
stared at the ceiling. Fifteen minutes later, she reached
for the phone again and hit redial.
"I want to talk to you about what happened with
Melanie tonight. Call...me...now!"
Once again, she set the phone down noisily, but
instead of laying stretched out on the bed and
stewing in an angry haze, she undressed and took
a quick shower. After drying off and donning her
nightgown, she waited another five minutes for
good measure and picked up the phone.
"I'm warning you, Angel....you call me back now
or I will personally engrave your initials all the way
down to the primer on that shiny new toy of yours!"
She put the phone down. Predictably, it rang twenty
seconds later.
"Very funny, Buffy. Look...before you come all un-
glued and start bitching a blue streak, I'm sorry
that I had to leave, but there WAS a reason for it."
"There's always a reason with you, Angel," she
snapped. "It's always something. Melanie could
never count on you for anything, but tonight?...to-
night was a personal low, even for you."
"Goddamn it, Buffy....I didn't have a choice. It wasn't
something I planned." He stopped and sighed. "Look,
it's about what I was going to tell you tonight. My news?
Remember?"
"Go on." Her voice dripped ice.
"I'm in the running for a job as head of in-house
counsel for Chase International."
She was legitimately surprised. "Chase International?
The finance company?"
It was difficult to exude smugness over the phone, but
Angel managed it. "Damn right. But that's just ONE of the
pies they have their fingers in," he said. "Banking, insurance,
property management, software, even the pharmaceutical
industry. They're the parent corporation of four different
Fortune 500 companies."
Buffy listened to all this with mixed emotions. Although
it mattered nothing to her where her ex-husband parked
his briefcase every morning, this job he was angling for
sounded like the kind of thing that could eat up every
scrap of free time a person had. He barely ever saw
Melanie as it was. If he accepted this new position, the
next time his daughter might see him would most likely
be at her high school graduation.
But following right on the heels of THAT troubling
thought came another one....a tantalizing one.
**Who cares? Let him drift out of our lives. Melanie
doesn't need him. Not anymore. Not now that she
has...**
When her heart began pounding in her chest at
a highly accelerated pace, she shook her head,
slightly afraid to let the idea take root and flourish.
William had said nothing of permanence, nothing
that hinted at the possibility of a lifetime commit-
ment. There were too many 'what ifs' at this point,
the biggest one being 'what if it just doesn't work
out' ?
But he loved Melanie. There was not a bit of doubt
in her mind about that, and should they go their
separate ways for any reason, Buffy knew he would
never push her little girl out of his life.
It was the only certainty she could cling to at the
moment.
"You still there?"
Angel's voice brought her out of her contemplation of
the future and back to the here and now.
"Yeah, of course." Her eyes fell upon the silver
picture frame on her bedside table. It was an 8x10
of Melanie's kindergarten picture, and the only
reason she was smiling so brightly was due to the
fact that Buffy had been standing there when it was
taken. "Since when do Fortune 500 companies con-
duct job interviews at this time of night?"
"It was more of a social thing," he told her. "Sort of
thing you can't really get out of, you know?"
She'd heard THAT excuse before. Frequently, in
fact. "It's good to know your priorities stay con-
sistent, Angel. I swear, I would die of shock if you
EVER once put Melanie's welfare before yours, so
save my life and don't ever change!"
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Buffy. Why do you always
have to be so..."
"You know what?" She cut him off before he
could finish the sentence. "I don't care. I really
don't. Work where you want...go where you please.
It doesn't matter to me. But don't you ever pull a
stunt like that again or I will make sure everyone
knows just exactly what kind of man you REALLY
are. Chase International will drop you like a hot
rock before I'm through with you."
"Buffy..."
She'd had enough. "Angel, if you can't start behaving
like some kind of father to your child then just get the
hell out of our lives....and I'll find someone who will."
He said something in reply, but Buffy was already
hanging up the phone and didn't catch it.
*********************************
"So, tell me, babe....any fall out after the evil-bitch-
monster-from-hell incident?"
Buffy glanced into the back seat to see if Melanie was
still asleep before she answered. The Lexus ate up
the miles between Sunnydale and Anaheim as smoothly
as glass, and her daughter had dropped off ten minutes
into the ride.
"A little," she said quietly. "I talked to Angel and
basically threatened him with damage of
something VERY important to him."
"His balls?" William asked, smiling at her.
"His car."
That made him laugh a little. "That's my girl,"
he murmured approvingly. "Christ, that woman
was annoying. I really hate people like that."
"Me, too." She looked at him. "Like what?"
"The know it all type. The ones who have an
opinion about everything under the sun...even
things they've never even heard of...and think
THEIR opinion is the right opinion, simply
BECAUSE it's their opinion." He grinned. "Got
all that?"
"Got it all," she nodded. They rode in a
companionable silence for a few minutes, then
she asked, "Where are your dogs spending the
weekend?"
He flicked the turn indicator and moved on to
the exit ramp. "I took them to my parent's house
last night. They love them. Their cat?" He shook
his head. "Not so much."
"What kind of cat?"
"Siamese. Big blue eyes and a nasty disposition.
Every time the dogs are there, she heads for the top
shelf of a bookcase and spends all her time glaring
at them as if she wished they'd drop dead."
It had already been dark when he'd picked them
up. Now, as he drove into the bright lights of a city
street teeming with neon signs, making idle
conversation, Buffy discovered something she hadn't
seen before.
"What's this?" she asked, playfully ruffling his
short, unruly curls.
He knew what she meant. "Filming's over for a
while. Time to go 'natural' and give it a rest."
His hair was a tousled mop of light brown with
blond tips. She absolutely loved it. "Looks good."
"Glad you like it, sweetheart."
God, that sounded good. Another huge check in
her mental 'plus' column was his fondness for
using such terms of endearment...sweetheart, love,
baby...they all gave her a pleasant little shiver every
time he used one of them.
"Well, I like it the other way, too," she said.
He sighed. "You and everyone else. I really didn't
want to have it like that, but I was just coming off
a theater group production when I auditioned for
the show and the 'powers that be' decided they
liked it bleached."
"But surely they can't force you."
"Oh, YES they can. It's in my contract...no major
changes of appearance without the consent of the
producers...it applies to facial hair, visible tattoos,
body piercings and..." He pointed at his head. "this."
"I like it, too," a little voice came from the back
seat.
William looked into the rear view and saw
Melanie rubbing her eyes, staring out the window
in fascination at all the people wandering up and
down the streets, going into and out of motel
rooms and coffee shops, most of them loaded
down with brightly colored shopping bags bearing
a distinctive 'D' on the front.
"Look who's awake," he said, turning the car into
the circular drive of the Disneyland Hotel. "And
just in time."
"Are we here?" Melanie asked, her eyes becoming
even wider.
"We're here, Pixie." William tossed his keys to a
valet and took Melanie out of the car, then carried
her over on to the sidewalk where all three watched
a bellman pile their bags onto a brass cart.
Once inside the doors of the hotel, Melanie squirmed
to be set on her feet. She took Buffy's hand and dragged
her over every inch of the lobby, examining the decor
and correctly naming every one of the different Disney
cartoon characters on display in the wall hangings.
The heels of her red patent leather shoes clacked
on the marble floors, and in one far corner of the vast
lobby there was a brass band playing some vaguely
recognizable ragtime tune.
Melanie bounced around, more excited than Buffy
had seen her since the fateful visit to the Outpost Space
convention that had changed their lives so radically.
She gazed briefly in the windows of several gift shops,
announcing the fact that her personal favorite was the
one named after Cinderella.
As they prowled the lobby, William got them checked
in with smooth efficiency, then led them to an elevator
that carried them up nearly to the very top floor.
Once inside the suite he had reserved, Melanie flew
across the room to stare out the window. "The castle,
Mommy! I see the castle!"
Buffy gazed around the room, noting everything; the
beautiful blond oak furnishings, the immense balcony
and stunning view, the entertainment center with it's
32 inch screen television, cable hook up, and what looked
to her like a video game set up.
The suite consisted of a large living room, with sofas
and armchairs, small tables, and a bar/kitchenette off to
one far side. There were two open doors that led into the
bedrooms, and she could see that both of them included
two double beds.
A light knock sounded at the door, and William admitted
the bellman. After setting out their luggage, he took them on
a quick tour of the suite... pointing out the various amen-
ities...then instructed them to please call if there was anything
at all they required that was not already at their fingertips.
"All right, then," William said, closing the door on the exiting
bellhop, "do we unpack....or go have some dinner first?"
Melanie was back at the balcony window, her little nose
pressed against the glass. "There's a pool!" she informed
them, "a really very big one."
William picked up a small brochure and flipped through
it. "That's the...Neverland Pool. Neverland....where've I
heard that before?"
"Peter Pan lives there," Melanie said.
He snapped his fingers in a show of sudden memory. "That's
it." He grinned at Buffy. "Smart little thing, isn't she?"
Buffy returned his smile, leaning against the wall next to
her daughter. "She knows her Disney backwards and
forwards."
"I can see that." He picked Melanie up. "So, do we
unpack," he asked her, "or do we eat?"
"We eat!"
********************************
After another quick debate between ordering room
service or going to one of the restaurants, Buffy took
Melanie into the bathroom to supervise hand washing
and hair combing, then rejoined William, who was
waiting for them at the door.
He'd looked over the map of the hotel and it's grounds,
he explained, and had located a restaurant on the first
floor that catered to young children.
It turned out to be a lively and pleasantly noisy little
place, decorated in splashy neon colors and boasting
two buffets...one specializing in the sorts of foods that
appealed to the younger crowd, such as chicken nuggets
pressed into the shape of the 'Mickey Mouse' logo, hot
dogs, hamburgers, french fries, small individual pizzas,
macaroni and cheese, corn on the cob, and jello.
The other buffet was designed with the adults in
mind and consisted of the more standard fare that most
preferred. At one end was a chef slicing huge portions of
roast beef and ham upon request. There were several
different kinds of pasta, elegantly prepared salads,
herb roasted chicken and poached salmon, among other
offerings.
But what made the restaurant truly special wasn't
the food or the atmosphere. Much to Melanie's wide
eyed amazement, there were several Disney charac-
ters circulating the room, stopping at tables to speak
to the children or pantomime...whichever their
particular costume allowed for.
Her habitual shyness was practically non-existent. She
had grown up with these characters from the time she
was a toddler, and knew them as well as she knew her
own family.
'Pluto' had her giggling when he gave her a good
sniffing and then knelt at her feet, begging for a nice
long scratch behind his ears and thumping one foot
rapidly as she relieved his pretend itching.
A stunningly pretty girl decked out in 'Snow White'
regalia stopped at their table. In a sweetly musical
voice, she asked Melanie if she was enjoying her
dinner and chatted with her a bit. Before she moved
on to another table, she added that she hoped Melanie
and her mommy and daddy would have a wonderful
time in the park.
Not one of them sitting there corrected the girl's
assumption that they were the most nuclear of
families, each with their own reasons....
William, because he enjoyed being thought
of as Melanie's father.
Buffy, because it seemed so wonderfully normal
and natural.
And Melanie....because she wanted it so badly.
*************************
After dinner, they explored the grounds of the
hotel for a while.
When Melanie began showing signs of a need to
rest and recharge, William once again picked her
up and carried her. With her arms wrapped around
his neck, and her head on his shoulder, she promptly
fell asleep and stayed that way until they reached
their room.
Buffy helped her sleepy daughter into her pajamas,
then took her into the bathroom for face washing and
teeth brushing. She was tucked into bed and kissed
goodnight, and when Buffy switched off the lamp, her
eyes grew as round as silver dollars.
Golden sparkles and stars twinkled all along the tops
of the walls, spread there by 'Tinkerbell', hovering in
one corner and waving her wand.
"Wow," Buffy said, sounding suitably awe-struck. "That
must be pixie dust, I guess. What do you think?"
"I think so, too."
It was a lovely effect in the darkened room, giving off
just the right amount of a golden glow.
"Pixie dust for the pixie." William leaned over and
stole another kiss goodnight. "For the queen of the
fairies."
"That's me!" Melanie giggled.
"That's you!"
***************************
"Is she asleep?"
Buffy sighed and nodded, sitting down on the end
of the couch William was stretched out on. "Like a
hibernating bear. Not surprising, since she barely
slept at all last night and it's an hour past her bed-
time."
"What about you?"
She looked at him, shaking her head slowly. "It's
nowhere near MY bedtime."
"So you're not tired, then?"
"Not really, no."
"Well...," He beckoned to her with one crooked
finger. "Why don't you come here and prove it to
me."
Buffy hesitated, glancing at the closed door behind
which her daughter was sleeping. "I don't know."
"Please?"
"It's....no, we shouldn't."
"Yes, we should."
It was shocking how quickly this man could
dismantle her defenses. "It's not a good idea,"
she persisted...or tried to.
"It's a VERY good idea."
"Melanie's right there....just a few yards...away."
He sat up and began to crawl slowly towards
her. "Melanie...the one who sleeps like a hiber-
nating bear?"
This little game they were playing was more fun
than actual sex with Angel had EVER been.
She squeezed herself into the corner of the
couch, pointing a scolding finger. "Back!"
He smiled. "Don't want to."
"Well, do it anyway."
"Make me."
Buffy was having a difficult time maintaining
control of herself. She was just as eager for inti-
macy as he seemed to be.
Contrary to their original plan, they hadn't been able
to enjoy any 'alone time' together all week. Anya had
been out with the flu,doubling the amount of time
Buffy stayed in the shop, while William had been stuck
on the set for 12 to 15 hours a day, leaving them both
too exhausted to do anything other than collapse when
they returned to their respective homes.
"Come on, Buffy," he murmured teasingly. "We
don't have to DO anything big. Let's just...fool around
a little bit."
He was practically on top of her, and she had to
straight arm him to keep him off. "If we do THAT
then you won't want to stop."
"Neither will you," he said softly. "I'll make sure
of it."
That was precisely what she was afraid of.
She was close to caving in. He could see it, and he
took advantage.
"Baby, come on," he coaxed her. "Just part your
legs and let me lay between them. We don't even
have to take anything off....I'll still make you come."
"You...wha...really?" She was folding faster than
a house of cards....and it was all his fault. Her arms
trembled and gave out, allowing him to fall forward
on top of her.
"Gotcha!" he whispered, wedging her thighs apart
and sinking down between them.
Yes. Yes, he did. He had her, and there was no going
back at this point.
He reached up and switched the lamp off, casting the
room into pitch darkness, helped by the heavily lined
drapes that kept out the effect of approximately eight
million lights.
His hand moved down, gliding along her right thigh,
lifting it until it was bent at the knee and pressing
against the back of the couch. Her left foot, she placed
on the floor.
"Ahhh, that's it," he groaned, leaning down to nuzzle
and bite her ear lobe. "That's my good girl."
She could feel the heat coming off of him, right through
the layers of his jeans and her skirt. Her hands, who
seemed to be acting on their own behalf, cupped them-
selves over his rear and squeezed.
His entire body jerked, and he pushed down hard,
expertly finding the right spot to apply pressure. His hips
moved rhythmically down and up, grinding in a little
harder.
Propping himself on one hand, he used the other one to
push her blouse and bra out of his way. She ground the
back of her head into the sofa cushion as he covered
her breasts with hard, sucking kisses.
They were both too aroused for it to last very long,
and only the fact that his mouth covered hers at the
last minute kept them quiet when they climaxed
together.
Panting in Buffy's tender embrace, William turned his
head and nuzzled the side of her neck.
"Definitely going to need a change of pants, now," he
sighed.
She could relate!
TBC....
(Sorry I had to cut it short, but the old computer
is kicking up dickens again, and I fear it may be on
its final gasp this time. I don't think it'll give me a
chance to even spell check, so please excuse any
errors you find.)
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