Title: Acting The Part Author: Pattyanne snapkik@yahoo.com 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: www.offangsandfairytales.com/actingthepartmain.html 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?)