Title: Acting The Part
Author: Pattyanne
[email protected]
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.net/actingthepartmain.html






Part Thirty-two:



For a moment Buffy was tempted to run upstairs and
bury her head under her pillow. The only thing that
kept her from actually doing it was the fear that he would
wake up Melanie, not to mention the entire rest of the
neighborhood, with his continued pounding on the door.


Feeling like a sleep walker having an anxiety attack, she
set her cup down on the telephone table and took a deep
breath, then unlocked the deadbolt and turned the knob.
Before she could even open her mouth to speak, William
had stepped over the threshold.


Closing the door rather loudly behind him, he placed his
hands on his hips and said, "All right....explain it to me. Can't
wait to hear it."


Swallowing hard, she tried to brazen it out. "Explain what?"


He stared at her for a moment, then chuckled and glanced
briefly at the ceiling. "Oh, I see...that's how it's going to go, is
it?" He looked back at her. "Why wouldn't you talk to me again
after I spoke with Melanie?"


Buffy was completely unable to tell him the plain truth; that
she'd been floored by the 'unexpected' voice on the other end
of her phone line, by the flood of jealousy and the sinking feeling
that was even now gathering in the pit of her stomach...the feeling
that she was right back where she'd been with Angel once upon a
time.


She stared at her bare feet for a moment, then steeled herself to
look at him properly...and her heart did one of those butterfly dips
she'd recently become so familiar with.


He looked wonderful. His hair was a little longer, with the light
brown still overtaking the bleached tips. It was loose and freshly
washed, completely clean of any hair product. He was wearing
a dark red, button down shirt over a tight black t shirt, its sleeves
rolled up to his forearms, and a pair of black denim trousers.


No wonder he had "legions" of women after him, she thought.


Clearing her throat, she picked up her mug and took a sip of her
tea. "I was...busy."


He stared at her. "Busy? That's the best you can do?"


"It's true."


"I don't believe you," he said flatly. "Want to try again?"


She swallowed, her heart clamoring in her chest. "Look...I
don't know what else you want to hear...what you're thinking.
I...all I can tell you is I was right in the middle of my...."


"Never mind." Bending slightly, he ended the discussion by
lifting her off her feet and starting up the stairs.


"William!" she squeaked. "What do you think you're..."


"I want a straight answer out of you, Buffy," he replied with a
half shrug, "and I don't want Melanie coming downstairs in the
middle of it so you can use it as an excuse to avoid giving me
one." Proceeding down the hall, he carried her into her bedroom,
set her on her feet, then closed her bedroom door.


The soft light in the room, the intimacy of the situation, was
making it difficult for her to keep her mind where it needed to
be. It had been too long since they'd had an opportunity to be
together and she was almost physically aching for him to touch
her.


"That's better." His voice was quiet, almost silky. He folded
his arms across his chest and tilted his head slightly to one side.
"You were saying?"


She hesitated a moment, then crossed the room and set her
mug down on her dresser. Wiping her damp palms on her robe,
she turned to face him. "I was...I was saying that...that I was busy
when you..."


"Yeah, yeah...I got that part. And I said that I don't believe that
story, so tell me another."


"Well I can't help it if you don't believe me. That doesn't mean
it isn't true."


One eyebrow arched, and he began to move closer. "But it ISN'T
true, Buffy," he said softly. "There's something else, something you're
not telling me."


By now, she was becoming as weary of the evasion as he was.
"All right...okay." Pressing her back against the dresser, she held
out one arm to keep some distance between them. "There IS some-
thing else."


Two feet away from her, he halted his approach. "Tell me."


Mentally crossing her fingers that the whole thing was just a
huge misunderstanding on her part, Buffy spoke plainly. "When I
called you, a woman answered your phone."


He thought for a moment. "Right...that was Darla."


The name was familiar...Darla Wilding played 'Captain Amara's'
sister, although she'd sounded anything but sisterly to Buffy.


"So...that's the reason you wouldn't talk to me? Because Darla
answered my phone?"


Put THAT way, it sounded ridiculously unreasonable, even to
Buffy's own ears. "No, it was....it was the WAY she answered it.
It sounded....well...." She looked up at him and caught a smile
beginning to form on his lips. "She called you 'baby' and then..."


William was now laughing, softly. "Buffy...."


"...she made some kind of comment about all your 'legions
of women' and I just....it's not funny, William....stop that!"


The laughter was coming harder now. Beginning to feel foolish
in the face of his obvious amusement, she pushed away from the
dresser and was about to stomp past him out of the room when he
grabbed her arm.


"No...Buffy, wait," he said quickly, turning her to face him. "I'm not
laughing at you, sweetheart....I promise I'm not." Taking a deep
breath, he got himself under control. "It's....it's partly the whole
stupid situation and partly relief." He backed up a few feet and
sat down on the end of the bed, pulling her down onto his lap and
keeping his arms wrapped tightly around her. "Darla is a friend. I've
known her since we were kids...in fact, I got her the job on the show."


The fist around Buffy's heart began to loosen.


"Darla," he went on, "is nearly six years older than I am. Her
mother and mine were close friends, and when her mother died
she came to live with us. We were raised together, that's all."


Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "She called you 'baby',"
she reminded him.


"She calls EVERYONE baby...every man she knows, anyway...it's
just the way she talks."


"Hmm....'legions of women'?"


He laughed again. "She's always teasing me about that...cause
of the fans. Buffy..." He turned her on his lap, laying her back on
the bed. "Unless you qualify as a legion, I'd say she's a little off
the mark. You're the only woman in my life...outside of the one
sleeping down the hall, that is....and I love you."


"What?" she asked, wondering where she was finding the breath
to speak. This was no offhand "I think I'm falling in love with you"
comment. He sounded serious...and certain.


Smiling down at her, he cupped her face in one hand and
bent low until his lips were almost touching hers. "I love you,
Buffy," he repeated deliberately. "I'm in love with you...totally
and completely...in love....with YOU."


His mouth came down on hers, hungry for a response. With
every last bit of reserve drained away, Buffy parted her lips
and kissed him back.


Sliding one arm beneath her waist, he pulled her firmly
against him. "Say it," he whispered, searching her eyes.


There was no need to hesitate...no need to ask, or wonder,
or think anything over. Without thinking twice, she told him what
he wanted to hear.


"I love you, William....."



TBC...