The club was more packed than usual, Byron noticed with interest. Finding a table had been a challenge, and in the end he'd had to resort to glaring some undergrads away from a six-seater. Somewhere in the crowd, his 'friends' were wandering, getting drinks or trying to pick up dates. Not for the last time, Byron wondered why he spent so much time with children half his age. Because you look their age, he answered himself ruefully, and anyone older acts like you're an upstart kid when you try to pal around. Sighing, the forty-some year old glanced up at the dance floor, wondering if Dan would be up for some cuddling that night. Couldn't hurt to ask. Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't hear the quiet voice that whispered in his ear.

"Have I been a good mother?"

Byron blinked in shock and turned around in his chair to see a petite blond who watched him with large, sad eyes. "What do you mean, 'have you been a good mother'? What do you expect me to say to that?"

Buffy Summers shrugged, seeming hopelessly confused. "I just...I haven't even seen you in almost three years. I feel like I've done something wrong."

"Then you probably have", he returned calmly. He sighed as her wide eyes filled with tears and reached out to her. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did", she choked, holding back the tears. She took his hand and let him pull her into a tight hug. "You don't have to apologize. I deserve it." Sniffling, she tipped her head back to see her son's face, her expression wistful. "I did try, Byron."

"Look...Mom...", Byron looked around the crowded club and winced. "Maybe we should have this discussion elsewhere."

Buffy smiled slightly at that, pulling away to tease, "Afraid I'll embarass you in front of your friends?" Byron rolled his eyes and stood, grabbing his coat.

"The opposite, actually", he returned lightly, slipping into the leather jacket and taking Buffy by the arm. "They're a bit rough around the edges."

"Who's rough?", a young masculine voice asked. "I can do rough. Who's your friend, Bry?"

Byron groaned as his mother raised an eyebrow and turned to meet Steve. He turned with her, resigned to protecting the former Slayer from his beer-soaked compatriot, and groaned again when he saw that the whole gang had arrived.

"Hello, beautiful", Steve drawled, giving Buffy a lurid once-over. Behind him, Jason and Robbie were staring in open-mouthed appreciation at the former Slayer's rather low-cut black velvet tank top. "Where did you come from?"

Buffy smiled indulgently at Steve, unwittingly providing the young man with encouragement, and raised her voice above the music to say, "California."

"California", Steve nearly purred, maneuvering Buffy back toward the small table that Byron had just vacated with a hand at the small of her back. "I hear it's gorgeous out there this time of year. What are you doing here in the Frozen North?" As Buffy seated herself, Steve and the boys made a mad scramble to sit next to her, ending with the petite vampire being flanked by Steve and Jason.

"Steve", Byron protested half-heartedly as he dropped into a chair across from his mother, "We were just leaving..."

"Ah", the Brunette inferred, "You're a friend of Bryan's then. It's a good thing we saved you from him, miss, or he'd be boring you to tears by now. Bry's an all-work-no-play kind of guy."

"Really?" Buffy regarded Byron with gentle concern, and he fought the urge to slam Steve's head into a brick wall. "That's not how I remember him."

"So you've known Bry for a while?", Robbie enquired curiously, leaning across Jason to get a closer look at the girl. "Are you an old girlfriend or something?" Jason rolled his eyes and elbowed Robbie surreptiously. "Hey!"

Buffy smiled impishly and purred, "Or something... Are you guys friends of Bryan's?" Emphasizing the alias, Buffy raised a brow at her son and shook her head at him almost imperceptibly. Byron sighed and buried his head in his arms.

"I guess you could say that", Steve responded with a careless shrug. "We take pity on the poor guy for his lack of social ability. All he did before he met us was study, study, study."

"See, Bryan's kind of quiet", Jason added, eager to be included in the conversation. "Not much of a party animal."

"But we're working on it", Steve continued, shooting Byron's bent head a long-suffering look. "It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it."

"How noble", Buffy laughed, leaning back in her chair and regarding the group of young men with amusement. "You're all so sweet..."

Byron made a strangled sound and lifted his head. Pleadingly, he suggested, "Well, we really should be going... Can I get your coat, Mmmm-ichele? Michele?"

Steve glared at Byron briefly and interjected, "No rush, Bry. You haven't even seen Dan in the new leather pants yet." Turning back to Buffy, he silkily commented, "Michele. That's a lovely name."

"Dan?" Buffy looked to Byron interestedly and queried, "Who's Dan?"

"I'm Dan", a statuesque red-head announced, sliding into the seat between Byron and Steve. Piercing dark eyes slid over Buffy, flashing to Byron jealously and carrying a warning for the blonde to keep her hands off. "Danielle. And you are?"

Byron supressed a whimper at the delighted smile that crossed his mother's lips. "I'm Michele", the little vampire introduced herself sweetly. "Bryan and I are old friends."

"Uh-huh." Dan seemed more than a little disturbed as she edged closer to Byron and possessively laid a hand on his arm. Buffy's smile only grew, her eyes filling with unholy light.

"So, Michele", Steve ventured, placing a hand lightly on the former Slayer's lower back. "Do you like to dance?"

"Steve", Byron hissed, shooting to his feet, "Can I talk to you for a minute?" Steve began to shake his head, but froze when he saw the boiling fury in his quiet friend's eyes. Jason and Robbie shut up as well, suprised by Byron's reaction, and watched him as if he were a lit powder keg, about to explode.

"Sure, Bry", Steve agreed slowly, removing his hand from Buffy as he stood. As the occupants of the table watched, the two men drifted toward the bar, deep in urgent conversation.

"Well that was interesting", Danielle commented amost sadly. Her gaze flickered to Buffy and she asked, "I guess you two were pretty close old friends." There was hurt lurking deep in her eyes, but she kept her voice rigidly calm.

Buffy shook her head quickly and tried to be reassuring. "No, he's just protective. He gets that from his father."

Dan frowned and tilted her head to the side as she considered the response. "You know his father?"

A quick grin flashed across Buffy's face and she nodded, her eyes suddenly sparkling impishly. "You could say that."

Before the younger woman could question the Slayer further, Byron and Steve returned to the table. Laying a heavy hand on his mother's deceptively fragile shoulder, Byron announced, "We're leaving now." His eyes flicked up to Dan's, taking in the worry that she tried to hide, and he added, more to her than the others, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Buffy rose gracefully from her chair, smiling at the small group of humans as she went. "It was nice to meet all of you." She looked to Byron for approval, and he just shook his head, keeping his hand firmly planted.

Dan and the young men muttered their "goodbye"s with varying degrees of feeling as Byron maneuvered Buffy around and toward the exit, and then they were lost in the crowd.

Buffy and Byron stood silent and apart in the alley behind the club for long moments, absorbing the quiet and chill of night. Though neither of them felt the cold of late winter, both wore jackets to blend in with the living. It was another barrier, Buffy thought, another shell to envelop themselves in and block out the pain of knowing that they were unnatural abominations, that they should not be allowed to exist. Or perhaps she was just projecting...

"I've been comfortable here for a long time, you know", Byron mused aloud, breaking into her reverie. "I'd gotten used to being away from all of this. I almost felt like I was beginning to fit in."

"I'm sorry", Buffy whispered, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered. "I shouldn't have come...I know that. But I saw Willow and I just felt so..."

"Lost?" Byron supplied gently. Sighing, he raked a hand through his thick dark hair. "I wish I could say something that would make you feel better. But don't ask me questions...like that. You're my mother. I don't want to hurt you."

The Slayer nodded solemnly and weakly smiled at her son. "I know. But maybe I deserve it."

Byron whirled to face her, the muscle in his jaw suddenly jumping as his eyes went molten gold. "Don't", he snarled, barely containing the urge to scream at her. "Don't you dare." She stared at him, speechless, a hint of fear in her fathomless eyes, and he felt the anger drain away as quickly as it had risen. Cursing under his breath, he closed the distance between them and gathered her into his arms, bitterly wondering when he had become the parent. She relaxed immediately against him, placing her head on his chest. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

"I don't know", she murmured into the solid wall of his body. "I just can't stop." She shuddered helplessly and sniffed, trying futilely to hold back sobs. "You're the only thing that makes it all worth it."

He blinked dumbfounded down at the top of her head as she surrendered to the tears. Questing around in his mind for something, anything to say as she cried out all the pain, he cradled her shaking body closer. "It's okay...Mom, it's alright, don't cry..." She only cried harder, her wrenching sobs wracking her slender body until only his strength kept her from falling.

"Mom...Mommy, it's okay..."

"I love you..."

"Please...?"

"Don't..."