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Part four....


An hour into the photo op, William's face was getting tired of
smiling. He had counted seventy-five people so far, and Lord
only knew how many more were on the other side of the curtain.

Still, he had an obligation to fulfill and it didn't really matter
how tired he was. These people were good to him, and he was
damn well going to return the favor to the best of his ability.

So he greeted and he smiled for the camera, and he listened
to their words of praise and thanked every last one of them.

He had been a working actor for almost eleven years, most of
it spent in obscurity. After watching a well known actress he'd
once worked with pull her prima donna bit once too often with her
fans, he had made himself a silent vow never to behave in that
way, should he become recognizable. So far, it was a promise
that he'd managed to keep.

The photographer called for a break to reload his camera, and
William took advantage of the opportunity to use the restroom and
the soda machine.

Five minutes later, as he stood talking with the photographer's
assistant, he felt a light tug on the sleeve of his jacket and
looked down.

"Hi," Melanie piped, smiling.

His tiredness suddenly vanished. "Hi to you, too," he replied,
kneeling to her eye level. "Here for a picture?"

"Mm-hmm. I got juice on my dress," she said, pointing to a
small stain, "but Mommy said no one will notice it. Can you
see it?"

William peered at the area in question. "I think Mommy's right.
It's barely there."

He stood up and turned to face the camera. "Look right there,
pixie," he said, then stopped. "Hold it." He looked down at the
tiny girl standing there so quietly. Leaning over, he whispered
to her, "Would you mind very much if I picked you up for the
picture?"

"Okay." Melanie held out her arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Standing off to one side, Buffy was amazed all over again
at Melanie's demeanor. Walking up so boldly and making
herself known by pulling on William's sleeve the way she
had...answering his questions without a trace of hesitation
or uncertainty...and then allowing herself to be lifted into his
arms for the photograph.

Would miracles never cease?

Despite her initial friendly reaction to him, Buffy had been
quite certain that when it came down to the critical moment,
Melanie would back out.

She didn't normally care much for having her picture taken
anyway, and certainly not by a stranger. Camera shy with
anyone except her mother, Melanie would usually announce a
sudden need to use the bathroom and would stay there until
whoever was attempting to take the picture just gave up and
moved on.

But her daughter had once again thrown her for a loop. Her
little fingers had pulled away from Buffy's and she'd approached
William before even being told to.

Fortunately, the child's actions seemed to be charming him
and the routine smile she had watched him use up until then
became a genuinely delighted one.

It seemed their admiration was mutual.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

William scooped the little girl up into his arms and settled
her on his hip. "Look straight ahead," he instructed her. "Do
you see the little red light?"

"Uh-huh," Melanie whispered.

"Look at that...and smile. Come on, pixie...show those pretty
little teeth of yours. That-a-girl." He glanced at the photographer.
"Got it? I want a copy of this one."

Reluctantly setting Melanie back on her feet, he spotted
Buffy standing to one side and grinned. Crooking his forefinger in
a "come on over here" gesture, he beckoned her closer.

Assuming that her job was merely to shepherd her child out
of the photo area, she moved closer...and was more than just a
little shocked when his hand darted out and caught hers.

"Your turn," he said softly.

Buffy tried to dig in her heels. "Oh...no. I...you've made a mistake.
This was just for Melanie. I didn't...you know...sign up for it."

But William didn't seem to care. "That's all right," he assured
her, not letting go of her hand.

Melanie stood next to them, her little arms wound around each
other like a peppermint stick, and her fingers interlaced. She
said nothing, but her smile shone more brightly than ever.

"Listen...I really can't," Buffy demurred, trying again to loosen
his grip.

"Why not?"

Embarrassing as it was to admit, she had no choice. "Because,"
she said flatly, "you charge an awful lot for a picture with you..and
I can't..." Her voice trailed off when she saw a slight flush on
his...amazingly beautiful...cheekbones.

"You know," he said quietly. "I don't set the prices for those
things. My agent takes care of all that. How much is it?"

When Buffy told him, he whistled low. "I see what you mean."

She highly doubted it. Money was surely the last thing this
man had to concern himself with. Although not an expert in
the area, she was pretty certain that he was collecting a heavy
paycheck once a week.

"Still," he shrugged. "Do it for me. I'll pay for it."

Buffy looked down and saw Melanie gazing up at her with
her "What are you waiting for?" face. Resigned, she nodded
and turned to face the camera...and nearly jumped out of her
shoes when she felt William St. James slide his arm around
her waist and close the small distance between them.

"Relax," he whispered in her ear. "I don't bite...hard."

Relax? How very funny. There wasn't chance in the world
that she was going to be able to relax. Between the hard
strength of the arm encircling her waist, and the warmth of his
breath stirring tendrils of her hair, Buffy was about as far from
relaxed as she could be possibly be.

Somehow, she managed to smile until the shutter clicked.

"Now...one of all three of us," he announced, picking Melanie
up once more and holding her between the two of them.

Buffy's eyes met and held his gaze...

And the photographer snapped the picture.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


After making sure that he would be seeing them again at
the autograph signing, William placed Melanie on her feet,
leaning over to say goodbye.

As they left the photo area, he signaled for his assistant
to come over before the shoot continued.

"See that her money is refunded, and make sure I get
copies of all three pictures."

"What's her last name?"

William stared at her for a moment, then chuckled. "I'll
have to get back to you on that one."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Buffy was signing her own autograph on a credit
card receipt, glad that she hadn't maxed out her limit.

She received the thin paper bag that contained the 8X10
photos Melanie had chosen. Several of them were still
shots from the series, while others were publicity shots.

At $15.00 a shot, it was an expensive little sack she
handed to the little girl looking up at her with shining eyes.

Oh, well...what was money, anyway?


**********

"For goodness sake, Melanie. How many t-shirts do you
need?"

"How many are there?"

**********

"You don't need that, honey. You don't have any
keys."

"We can buy some for me."

**********

"Put that book down!"

"Why, Mommy?"

"Never mind why. Just put it back where you got it and
let's go."

**********

"What is it?"

"It's Captain Amara's space ship thingy."

"Well, I...wait a second...you have to put this together your-
self. It's a model."

"Don't you know how?"

"No. Do you?"

"No."

"Moving along, then."


**********


"Is it a glass for dollies?"

"No, sweetie. It's a glass for grown ups."

"How come it's so small?"

"I...I guess we're not a very thirsty bunch. Let's get
this nice mug instead, okay?"

"Okay."

**********

"No. No toy weapons."

"But, I didn't ask you for one."

"Well...I'm just heading you off."

**********

"What did she say, Mommy?"

"It'll be more valuable someday if you keep it in
the box and don't play with it."

"Oh. That's not a very good toy."

**********

Sitting in the auditorium again, Melanie lay stretched
out across two folding chairs, her head pillowed in her
mother's lap.

A pop from the P.A. system startled them both. "In a
moment, we'll begin calling for one row at a time to line up
against the far right wall. You'll need your green voucher
and whatever you want signed ready. Mr. St. James has
an early call for tomorrow morning, so we need to expedite
things in order for him to satisfy everyone. When your
turn comes, please step up to the table and hand him
what you would like him to sign. Please don't attempt to
engage him in conversation or ask for personal contact,
such as a hug. He will write nothing but his name. When
your item is signed, please leave the area immediately so
the person in line can approach. Thank you all for your
cooperation."

"Who was that, Mommy?"

"I don't know, baby. The person in charge, I suppose."

Buffy helped Melanie sit up. The little girl yawned and
rubbed her eyes with her fists.

Catching her mother's glance, she quickly said, "I'm not
tired."

"Yes, I can see that," Buffy replied, amused.

Five minutes later, the rules were repeated.

"She doesn't sound very nice," Melanie said softly,
displaying the first tell-tale sign of nervousness that
Buffy had seen in hours by staring down at her sandals
and folding her hands together, lacing her fingers in a
"Now I lay me down to sleep" way.

"She's just doing her job, baby," Buffy said, sliding one
arm across the girl's shoulder and pulling her closer. "Don't
fret about it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melanie peeked around the side of the curtain that
divided William St. James from the rest of the crowd,
and Buffy gave her daughter a gentle nudge to get her
feet moving.

William looked up and saw her. "Come here, pixie,"
he grinned, patting the table.

One teeny baby step at a time, Melanie walked
forward, clutching a 8X10 photograph in her little
hands.

He was a little perplexed at her manner. For some
reason it looked as though all her natural ease with him
had disappeared, leaving him back at square one.

"Melanie? Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, laying her picture down on the
table.

"You sure, luv?" he persisted.

This time, she nodded, pushing the picture across the
table.

Not liking this one bit, he looked at Buffy. "Did something
happen?"

She could have told him what was wrong, if his "people"
hadn't been sitting there on either side of him.

"Melanie...why won't you talk to me?" he asked.

Her eyes darted briefly to the woman sitting on William's
right...an attractive lady with dark hair, large brown eyes,
and a forbidding expression...then back to William.

"She said I can't," she whispered.

"Who said you can't?"

"The rules lady."

"The rules...the WHAT lady?"

Melanie dropped her eyes and stared at the table. "The
rules lady. She said don't talk to you or hug you, or any-
thing."

Comprehension dawned. "Oh, THOSE rules," he nod-
ded. "Don't you worry about that, pixie." He leaned forward
and whispered, "The rules lady works for me."

"She does?," Melanie whispered back. "She talks really
loud."

"Really? I'll have to look into that."

"William," the dark haired woman interrupted. "It's getting
late. You need to wrap this up."

Melanie's eyes rounded with surprise, and she turned to
look at her mother. "That's the rules lady, Mommy. I
don't think she's sick."

"Sick?" William cut in. "Why would you think she's sick?"

"I asked Mommy why she sounds so cranky, and Mommy
said she probably has PMS."

He bit down on the inside of his cheek to control his
laughter, then looked at the woman sitting beside him."

"Well, Dru?" he asked. "Why DID you sound so cranky?"

A sour look was his only answer.


TBC.....
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