Sunnydale, California
Afternoon
Playground
Sitting on a bench facing the jungle gym playground, three women sat side by side in mid-conversation as they watched their children play.
Anya Jenkins-Harris, a beautiful woman with honey blonde hair animatedly spoke about her marital dilemmas with her two best friends since high school. "… we were on vacation in Bora Bora with eight other couples, and there was this Polynesian woman… Xander couldn't keep his eyes off of her breasts." She looked down at own average sized breasts, "Why can't my breasts be as attention-grabbing?" Anya sighed heavily looking down at her chest then said, "It was the longest two weeks of my life. But the sex was still good." Anya added thoughtfully.
Beside Anya was Willow Rosenberg, an attractive redhead with a kind smile. Her conversation overlapped Anya's in a non-competitive way, "If I take the Intro to Psych this semester with Professor Walsh then I'd be derailing the programming and coding computer course—and that's why I'm in graduate school." Willow chewed on her bottom lip, "Should I take the Psych course?"
In a short minute, the conversation shifted from their daily struggles to the thing they now all had in common: their children. They spoke about pre-schools, which their toddlers would be entering into in September.
Smiling politely as a skilful way to mask the familiar feeling of desperation and her own unhappiness, Buffy Summers-Finn tossed her fleeting attention back and forth between the women. Her mind went back to the memory of who she had been before she had gotten married and had a child.
In another life, only three years before, Buffy was on her way to being on to the top of her game as an art dealer in Los Angeles. But all of her dreams of owning her own gallery and being the most sought-after art dealer on the West Coast came to a screeching halt as soon as the test stick turned positive.
Her husband, Army Major Riley Finn is a traditionalist. He insisted they'd get married despite only dating a mere five months. At the time, Buffy knew she was in love and more than anything wanted to marry him. So she did, though she never expected to give up everything she's worked so hard for and become a suburban housewife. Buffy often asked herself, what was she thinking? Was she so blinded by love that she didn't see exactly what was in front of her?
"Xander and I were having sex last night and he fell asleep," Anya told them with wide eyes. "He woke up and apologised and you know what?—I didn't even notice." Anya shrugged then sipped the iced coffee in her hand.
Willow snorted a laugh, "He's been doing a lot of double shifts at the construction site, huh?"
Anya nodded, "The time for the new high school Science Building sped up about a month."
Buffy's gaze drifted over to the play area and a small faint smile tugged at her lips as she watched her young three-year-old bounce on the small metal pony on a spring. Her little girl was laughing and tossed her little head back having a blast.
Never before did Buffy think she'd ever have children until it happened. For months after the birth, Buffy spiralled into a pit of frustration, annoyance, and uselessness. Being a high ranking officer in the Army, Riley's time and his attention has always been limited. His focus was mainly on his work. Being a traditionalist as he is, Riley held the belief that all women wanted children and all women knew exactly what to do with a child.
It had taken Buffy about a year and a half to finally get a handle on having a child and the new adjustment to her life. She was accustomed to the fast-paced city life, multi-million dollar art deals, and designer Manolo Blahnik shoes.
Now, Buffy spent her days feeling suffocated at the playground listening to her friends talk about their ordinary lives and microscopic hardships all the while she watched this strange little person, who called her, Mommy play by herself.
Looking around at the small playground, Buffy wasn't sure why they even came here, Lucy never played on anything else besides that metal pony spring ride that was about as old as Buffy. Her daughter barely interacted with Willow and Anya's kids.
Then again, Buffy knew the answer to why they kept coming back. It wasn't about meeting her friends every day at the same twelve o'clock time or giving her daughter a chance to run around, it was because otherwise, Buffy would've gone crazy trapped in the house all day with this unknowable little person.
Suddenly, Anya's hand grabbed Buffy's, pulling her out of her swirling drain of thoughts.
Buffy looked at Anya and frowned, "Look." Anya said, nodding in the direction of a dark-haired man walking along the iron gate with a little dark-haired boy about four years old on his shoulders, holding his arms out as if he was flying.
The women's eyes were glued onto the gorgeous man as he entered.
The sinfully handsome and mysterious father wearing a charcoal coloured button down shirt and dark coloured pants had become a regular to the playground for the last several weeks this past spring, before abruptly dropping out of sight.
The women had taken to calling him, 'The Vampire' for reasons, Buffy didn't really understand. They never came to the playground at night nor did he appear to be a bloodsucking fiend. Perhaps it was because of his dark clothing, hypnotising dark brown eyes, or the fact, 'vampires' seemed more romantic than 'just an average man' with a fashion sense and fantastic DNA. 'The Vampire' was a merely a fantasy that had been conjured up in their minds—well, mostly Anya's pornographic mind.
'The Vampire' laughed as he lifted his son off of his shoulders and set him down onto his feet. The young four-year-old chased his father around the swing set, trying to catch the tail of his shirt but missed him by inches.
Unlike the mothers on the bench, the mysterious father was engaged with his child.
He picked the boy up by under his arms and placed him into the seat of the swing.
The women sat unblinking as they watched the gorgeous father push the young body in the swing.
It was then Buffy had realised how much of a hole this mysterious gorgeous man had left in their emotional lives of herself, Anya, and Willow. Barely a day went by without either Anya or even Willow speculating about the reason for his absence or the likelihood of his return.
"After all this time… there he is." Anya sighed dreamily and crossed her leg of her knee holding her chin her hand as she watched the gorgeous man push his son on the swing. "Two days in a row?"
Willow smirked, "Maybe he just needed a vacation."
"From what?" Anya frowned, turning her eyes to Willow.
"From being 'The Vampire,'" Willow smiled.
Anya nodded her head with agreement, "It's a dirty job. But someone's gotta do it. I mean my husband falls asleep during sex, I need something to fantasise about."
The mysterious man or 'The Vampire' looked up from his son to the women across the playground watching him intently. He tossed him a tugging smile that could melt any girls knees into a liquid puddle.
"What's his name?" Buffy suddenly asked.
Willow and Anya looked at their friend with a bizarre glint in their eyes thrown by the question.
"We've never actually, uh, spoken to him," Willow said.
Anya frowned, "I mean I would but I'm, uh… married to a man who falls asleep during sex."
Willow nodded, "Yeah, and I'm… not interested in men. Married to a woman, remember?"
Buffy cocked a high brow, "We spend all of this time talking about him and coming up with ridiculous nicknames for him and we still don't know his name or his son's name?"
The two friends stared blankly at Buffy.
"It's awkward," Willow said.
"Our kids play at the same playground on the daily, asking him what his son's name is not a big deal." Buffy sat back, crossing her leg over her knee.
Across the playground, Lucy managed to get herself off of the metal pony and wondered over to the swing set beside 'The Vampire' and his nameless son.
"Mommy! Push me!"
Buffy turned her eyes, following her daughter's squeaky voice to the swing-set.
Releasing a breath, Buffy said, "Alright. I'll be right there."
Willow and Anya's eyes widened as they watched Buffy cross the playground to her daughter unable to help but wonder of how her friends were going to react to her impending proximity to 'The Vampire'.
At the swing-set, Buffy lifted Lucy into the seat and started to push her daughter. She stood beside 'The Vampire' and tried to appear casual.
The man glanced over at Buffy and his expression was unexpectedly serious.
For the first time in what felt like two lifetimes, Buffy felt fluttering butterflies in the pit of her stomach.
The boy peered over his swing seat eyeing Lucy with a scepticism. "Daddy, how old is she?"
"Lucy, sweetie, tell the boy how old you are." Buffy gently coaxed.
"Three!" Lucy jabbed corresponding fingers into the air with a toothy smile.
The boy's dark eyes brightened, "I'm four! My grandmother lives in Ireland! She doesn't have a swing." He stated.
"Do you like to swing?" Buffy asked the boy and looked at the mysterious man, catching his tugging smirk.
"I like to swing really high!" The boy shouted.
'The Vampire' chuckled and shook his head as he tussled the boy's dark shaggy hair. "Don't listen to him. I'm Angel, by the way."
Buffy returned his easy smile and said, "Buffy."
"You guys come here a lot?"
"Almost every day for the last few weeks. We used to go to the playground by the high school but since all of that construction, here is a lot quieter."
Angel slowly nodded his head in agreement, "That's understandable."
They stood in a comfortable silence for a few short minutes. Angel shifted his gaze back over to the beautiful golden-haired woman, studying her features for a moment. The bridge of her pert nose had a slight bump, her rosy lips were slightly parted, and her skin was tanned from the summer sunlight. She was certainly beautiful—no gorgeous Angel decided.
He chuckled to himself, which grabbed Buffy's attention, "You know, you're the first person here who's ever talked to me." He looked at Willow and Anya on the bench watching the pair with keen interest and curiosity.
"You make them nervous." Buffy suddenly blurted without thought.
"Oh, right… I guess you don't get many fathers around here during the weekdays. You don't need to be polite, you can ask."
Buffy frowned, "Ask what?"
"What I do for a living?" He said as he pushed his son on the swing.
Buffy smiled to herself, "Okay, what do you do for a living?"
Angel's smile widened, "I'm the CEO of Wolfram & Hart. It's a law firm in—"
"—Los Angeles."
With surprise, Angel looked at her, "You've heard of us?"
"I've done many business deals with your law firm." She noticed the curious look in his dark beautiful eyes. "I'm an art dealer—or I was an art dealer."
"Was?—What happened?"
Buffy released a breath and looked down at her daughter as she combed her fingers through the girl's dirty blonde hair when she said, "I got pregnant."
Angel eyed the beautiful blonde shocked by the solemn way she had delivered this confession, with no apparent sense of being looked at oddly by the slight sadness in her voice. Most women he's ever met were never like this—Except, perhaps his own wife.
The pregnancy of their son was a total shock to them. His wife, Darla didn't resent their son but the young boy had fallen victim to her lack of interest. She never bothered with the child on most accounts. Hours after the birth, she had hired a live-in nanny, giving her most of the responsibilities.
Angel couldn't bear another day of their son, Steven not knowing his parents. Since he was the CEO of a prestigious law firm, Angel took the opportunity and cut back some of his hours in order to spend a bit of time with his son, while he was still young and impressionable. Angel knew what it was like to grow up without a father present and never wanted that for his boy.
Drifting from his thoughts of his particularly vain wife, Angel focused his attention back on Buffy and besides finding her achingly beautiful he had noticed something else about her, something that was just as attractive as her bright green eyes. She seemed a little lonely but unwilling to completely open her heart at the slightest sign of interest, that was something he could easily relate to.
"Daddy finished," Steven stated.
Angel shifted his gaze down at his son. "You sure?"
"Daddy, I finished right now!"
"Alright," Angel lifted the boy from the swing and placed him down on his little feet.
Buffy stopped the swing and helped her daughter out.
The parents watched as Steven took off running towards the slide. He paused and looked back at Lucy, still standing by her mother.
"You coming?" He asked.
Lucy frowned and looked up at Buffy for approval. Buffy nodded her head with a smile, happy her young daughter had finally found a friend.
"I'm happy she's finally found someone to play with," Buffy stated watching as Steven held out his hand for Lucy to take as they climbed up to the slide.
Angel looked at her wanting her to finish her thought.
"Lucy is a… little apprehensive when it comes to playing with others." Buffy frowned realising for the first time the parallels between herself and her daughter. "I don't know where she gets that from." She said with sarcasm.
Angel chuckled, "She's still young."
He didn't know what it was about her but there was something that attracted him to her. He had noticed her the first time when he and his son came to the playground. She sat on the bench with the blonde haired woman and the redhead across the way. They kept to themselves, watching him. He couldn't help himself and kept tossing his eyes back to the golden-haired woman, he know knew as Buffy.
The summer didn't seem so daunting now that he finally met the beautiful woman at the playground.
She lifted her eyes to his and they found themselves unable to look away from one another.
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