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‘That’s not how I remember it! As I recall, there was that Anya girl who’d always manage to worm the topic of sleeping with you into any conversation. Everyone said it was her talent!’ Liam laughed as the family of three shared their final meal for the day.

William ducked his head in embarrassment, and ran a hand down the back of his neck before reaching for a crumpled napkin to throw at Liam. Buffy had one hand clutched at her chest while she was bent over her plate of cheesecake laughing and struggling to take a breath.

‘I’m sorry! But I- haha- I’m still back at Harmony dumping you for the guy in the honey-dripping antlers at Halloween! I’d love to meet her! She must be so hilarious! Or! You must have been a really ba-’

‘Oi! Why don’t you try putting up with bread-box Twenty Questions for days on en—stop laughing! And don’t you start and all!’

While she had started to tilt dangerously on her chair, shaking with silent laughter, a large grin which threatened to break into a bout of hysterical laughs started to grow on Liam’s face as he recalled the young William’s relationship mishaps. When the cheerful atmosphere of the Summer’s home was interrupted by the shrill ring of the house phone, William sat back and sighed in defeat as Buffy continued to giggle.

‘I’ll get it. Go easy on him Buff, you’re in the kitchen tonight yeah?’ Liam called over his shoulder as he went to take the call.

Rubbing her aching stomach muscles, she ruffled William’s platinum curls as they began to clear up the table together.

‘How about we bleach up those roots of yours tonight, Will? We can try to make you look presentable for when you go back to work next week…less Backstreet Boy,’ she added with a cheeky grin.

‘Hey! I’m presentable! I won that end of year company award to prove it, didn’t I? “Best Dressed”, first guy to win in 15 years!’

‘Hah! And that’s a good thing! Doesn’t that imply that you’re somewhat…effeminate in your dressing?’

‘…I do not look like a sodding Backstreet Boy!’

Continuing their playful banter as they made their way to the kitchen, they started at Liam’s look of concern and business-like body language. Ending the call, he remained leaning on the counter quickly scribbling down notes,

‘Urgent client meeting, something’s gone wrong. They said it couldn’t wait; I have to go into the office. I probably won’t be back until late afternoon tomorrow. Will, you’re more than welcome to stay again tonight if you want,’ and pointing to the basket of medication in front of him he added, ‘And Buffy, I noticed that your…um…you need to refill your prescription. Don’t forget. And be good.’

Grabbing his car keys, he planted a kiss on his daughter’s forehead and put a comforting hand on William’s shoulder before rushing out of the house. Buffy and William stood beside each other laden with dishes as they registered Liam’s sudden departure. Frowning, she looked down the corridor where her father had been,

‘I’m always good.’

William looked at her incredulously and brushed past her towards the sink with a scoff.

~

‘What’s the name of this club, I can’t remember but I’m alright, I’m alright, just dance!’

Buffy sang enthusiastically as she stood behind him, gloves pulled up to her elbows as she attended to his blonde hair and offending naturally brown roots. Watching her bounce around in the mirror in front of him, he sighed exaggeratedly,

‘Tell me again why I let you pick the music?’

‘Because I’m the one who’s gonna unBackstreet Boy-afy you. And because I got you the best birthday presents ever!’

‘You did at that, pet. You did at that.’

Looking down at the damp, bleached head of hair before her, she looked back at him thoughtfully in the mirror,‘Why did you dye your hair?’

Securing the towel around his shoulders, he turned to her with a chuckle, ‘Oh no, Buff. I think we’ve had enough stories to last us a while. Anyway, I want to see more of those old photos you said that you found.’

Peeling off the gloves, she pulled him up quickly before dragging him downstairs with a squeal of glee.

~

‘Has Dad’s hair always been like that?’ Buffy looked questioningly at William who burst out with a laugh.

‘I’ll take that as a yes then. I just don’t get it. Most days he doesn’t even use much product…it’s like it defies gravity,’ she said in wonder.

Seated cross-legged on the floor, the box and photos scattered around them, William pulled a stack of pictures towards him. Smiling softly at the top image he turned it to her, ‘Mom,’ looking closely at the old print she said, ‘you know, she kind of—I mean, I…kind of, look a bit like her.’

‘Of course you do luv, you are her daughter after all. Everyday you look more like her,’ he then handed her another picture where a laughing Liam carried Darla with her legs around his waist; waves, sand and a setting sun in the background, ‘Beautiful.’

Setting aside her pile of photos, Buffy took this one and moved herself so that she was lying down, her head resting on his thigh. Sighing, she brought the picture closer to her face, studying the whole thing in detail. Will looked down at her, one hand automatically reaching out to stroke the blonde waves which spilled over his leg. Seeing that she was still engrossed with the picture, he allowed himself to take in porcelain perfection of her skin, her gracefully curved lashes. Her lips. He knew they should talk about what had happened the previous night, but he had no idea how to bring it up without avoiding the inevitable awkwardness. Part of him hoped that she had thought of it as a huge mistake and wanted to forget about it so that things could return to normal. But. A larger part of him hoped that she had felt the fire which had been building between them long before that night. This part of him just wanted to bend down to her and capture her lips again.

While he had been caught up in his thoughts, Buffy had long abandoned the photo of her parents and was enthralled as she watched William and realised that he was staring intently at her lips. She felt her breaths quicken as she noticed the distance between them getting smaller. God, she knew this wasn’t right. He was more than twenty years her senior. He was old enough to be her father. And perhaps even worse, he was her father’s closest friend.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

She heard the chant play over in her mind when she registered that her right hand had actually reached up to the back of his neck and she had raised herself up towards him.

Lips centimeters apart, William cradled the base of her head when he realised that she had spoken,

‘You should probably go and wash your hair now.’

~

to be continued...





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