Copyright: August 19th, 2000

Rating: ‘PG-13’

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Fox Studios, Mutant Enemy, et al, have something to do with “Buffy The Vampire Slayer”. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred. The story along with any/all original characters are the sole property of the author and cannot be used without expressed permission first.

Author’s Note: I don’t have any idea if you’ll like this. This has taken a few days to write, it really had no form to speak of. Just random thoughts that finally turned into what you’re about to read. It’s not beta’d, so, any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Second Author's Note: This is one of those stories that seem to defy which category I should put it in. So, I chose this one.

Angst Warning: Oh yeah, lots of it. I would like to do a happy story someday soon, and this just isn’t the one.

I’ve been at this point before; the point of no return, so many times, that I’ve lost count over the years.

And each time, I’ve turned back, afraid of the future...

Afraid of what it’ll hold for me.

I’ve had the chance to look back, and I’ve mourned the missed opportunities...

For Love...

Wealth...

And even...

Power.

I’ve made up my mind, not to miss the power or wealth as much, as I still have time for those... if I want.

But Love.

That’s something I should have grabbed onto with both hands and never let it slip through my fingers; like so many grains of sand.

We’ve all heard it before: “Oh, I’ve loved, been loved over my life.”

The funny thing is, that it’s the truth.

But, I’m thinking back to the one I let get away.

The sad thing is... I had it.

Right here, in my hands...

And, it was everything I dreamt it could be.

It was passionate, sexy, fulfilling, comforting, rewarding, in a word: “Perfect.”

And I think that’s where the problem was. It was too much of a good thing. I know you’re wondering, you might even be frowning at that comment. I mean, how can anyone have too much of a good thing. It’s not possible.

I am here to say, it is.

I couldn’t tell you when, couldn’t pin-point the exact moment I thought to myself, ‘There’s something wrong.’ ‘Cause quite frankly, even I don’t know when it happened, not at first.

I suppose I can say it was a gradual thing, how it was like an undetected disease, the longer it took before I noticed...

Well...

Anyway, as I said, it started gradually. Some silly fight; that was over nothing, was left to fester. And we both know what happens with those fights, don’t we. Those were the ones that always managed to make it into any other fight we might have had.

The ‘I-can’t-believe-you’re-bringing-that-up-again’ moment.

I can only wish that the fighting were the only problem. It would have been something fixable. You fight, then you make up.

And believe me, ooh, making up was a very good thing. I don’t, and can’t call it make-up sex. Because with you...

It was never just sex.

Yes, we’ve had sex before...

That...

‘All-or-nothing, twisting, turning, pillows and blankets-shoved-to-the-floor, no-holds-barred, sweaty, gasping-for-air, parched, bruised, cramping-from-being-in-one-spot-for-too-long, return-to-the-land-of-the-living-after-having-a-mind-shattering-orgasm-sex.’

But, most of the time, we made love. At least I’d like to have thought so.

The kind you’ve read about, dreamt of, can’t believe that you’ve actually found someone who loves you as much as you love them, love. The one that connects you’re souls together for that brief moment when you’re at your most vulnerable, when the universe revolves around you and no one else. You remember, that kind that gave you goose-bumps just thinking about it, the one that makes you forget everything else, except how you felt...

Sorry, lost myself for a moment.

It was the fight, and all the ones that came after that managed to drive a wedge between us...

Not to mention that you had fallen for someone else.

I should have seen it coming, but, I must have had my blinders on, or I just flat out refused to recognize the signs. First, it was, I have to stay and help her and I went along with it, because it was a part of your past history together. Then came the lack of physical contact, we might have shared the same bed, but you’d never know it.

I actually thought it was something I had done. Some, wrong I had committed, and I wracked my brain trying to figure out what it was so that I could apologize for it. Hell, I even asked you, and all I got was:

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

I hate those words.

It was months before I found a hint that all was not perfect in paradise.

I was getting ready to drop off your business suits at the dry cleaners, and for some reason; even to this day, I don’t know why, I brought one of your blouses to my face. A flashing red light went off in my head.

“Danger... danger... danger!”

Kind of like the robot from ‘Lost In Space’. I half expected Will Robinson and Dr. Smith to pop up and ask for my help.

You see, it wasn’t your perfume I smelled. I know, you might have just gone out and bought a new fragrance. But, I also knew that someone else, someone you were always close to, also wore the same thing.

I tried to push it aside, believe me I tried. I thought of every logical way it could have gotten on your blouse. You hugged good-bye... for a very long time. You two were always hugging or touching in someway that was completely normal for you two. I was getting worked up over nothing.

So I thought.

Or so I silently prayed.

It’s not easy finding out that the person that you loved more than anything else in the world no longer feels the same. I didn’t want to believe it. Looking back, I can see all the signs now.

The looks you two gave to each other when you thought I wasn’t looking, how conversations seemed to stop whenever I entered the room. How you two would suddenly move away from each other.

I think the others knew and didn’t know what to do about it.

Anya tried to tell me, I see that now. She tried on more than one occasion, but Xander or Giles stopped her from saying anything.

I wished they hadn’t.

So, instead of finding out like most of us do, from well-meaning friends...

I...

I had to find out the hard way.

No... I know what you’re thinking...

That I had walked in on you two, and you never knew.

No, nothing as simple as that.

I had to make a phone call, so, I picked-up the telephone receiver in the kitchen...

And...

I heard...

Umm...

I... umm... I list-listened for a wh-while...

Do you know what it’s like to hear the voice of the woman you love say:

“I love you too.”

To someone else?

Don’t misunderstand me... I’ve heard you both say it before...

But...

Never...

“Do you think she knows?”

You went on for a-another five minutes before you finally hung up. I replaced the receiver and sat down at the kitchen table. I guess you could say I was in shock. I snapped out of it as soon as you came into the kitchen. I knew what you were going to say, I could hear the lie, and each word you spoke sent a dagger into my heart.

I tried not to flinch as you gave me a kiss good-bye on the cheek. It was the first time in over a month you’d done anything like that.

Had I not heard the telephone conversation, I would have thought that things were turning around for us. I’m not really sure how long I sat there after you left. I got up and made a few phone calls. I asked as soon as he picked up the phone:

“Did you know about them?”

Bless his kind heart he tried to fumble his way around answering the question. He really is the nicest man I’ve ever met. But, I had to ask him again. I could hear his sigh over the phone, and I had my answer.

Of course being the man that he is, he told me not to do anything rash, that you could explain, etc... etc... etc.

I hated to hang up on him, but I had another call to make.

Xander picked up the phone this time, and I asked to speak with Anya, as soon as she got on I asked her:

“How long has it been going on?”

“At least six months.”

“Thank you”

And I hung up.

I let the phone ring as I packed my bags. I knew I couldn’t take everything, so, I only took what I needed. I took one last look around our home, then I locked the door, and slipped the keys through the mail-slot and left.

I knew I couldn’t stay at any hotels or motels. I knew who I had joined with, you’d look for any activity on my credit cards as soon as you knew I had left, I’m not a total fool.

I made one last phone call from the supermarket and ten minutes later I was placing my bags in the back seat, before slipping into the passengers side of the car.

Mrs. Summers was furious at first, but I told her not to be, that what I really needed was a place to stay. And as callous as this might sound, I knew they’d never look for me at her place. I asked her for seventy-two hours, three days, before she said anything. She reached out for my hand and agreed to help me, that was when the tears finally fell.

We arrived at her house and she made up the couch for me, as the only other room was Buffy’s. I know she didn’t hear me toss and turn, but, I think it was my crying that got her downstairs, she held me.

The phone rang around three in the morning.

“No... I haven’t seen her, of course I’ll let you know the minute she calls,” she’d said.

I could see how hard it was for her, you could tell she wanted to tell her daughter to come over right now and explain to her how she could have done something like this.

“I’m so sorry,” she told me after she hung up. And she was.

I told her I had to get out of town, and how it wasn’t going to be easy. I had thought about using the buses, but you’d probably have them covered, I know I would have.

I was at my wits end, when Mrs. Summers came to my rescue. She offered to drive me out of town.

“Won’t that seem suspicious?” I asked her as we had dinner in the kitchen the second night I was there.

She told me that there was a shipment in Los Angeles that she needed to get and that it just so happened that she would be leaving in the morning. I listened as she spoke to Buffy over the phone, she acted surprised when she heard that I had disappeared.

There was nothing left for me to do, but wait ‘til morning. I spent most of the night wondering if I should get in touch with you at all. That’s when I decided to write to you.

Joyce; she makes me call her that now, has told me that she would give you this when she returns. She won’t know where I’ve gone to, so don’t bother her anymore than I already have.

I... I know that this isn’t some fling, for either of you.

And don’t think for a moment that I’m letting you go for the sake of what you share with Buffy...

I’m not.

I want to say I hate you both for what you’ve done, not only to me, but for what we shared together. We should be very glad that Anya doesn’t have her powers. I’m sure that the spite I feel for you will fade... in time.

Do you have any idea of what you’ve put Xander, Giles and Anya through? You’ve put them in the middle of a situation that has no winners, you maybe with Buffy, but you’ll have to contend with the looks, and the lectures, everything they can throw at you and more. I don’t envy you that.

Giles... I feel so bad for him.

He isn’t going to know how to deal with his part in all of this. He knew, and he did nothing.

I’ll have to write to him later, I don’t want him to take on more than he should. He probably did talk to you both...

I’m going to miss Xander and Anya...

Xander’s heart is always in the right place, and I thank Anya for telling me the truth, when no one else would.

I can’t believe you did this...

I’m not sure how Joyce and Buffy are going to work things out with each other, but that’s not my problem, it’s hers...

It’s yours as well.

It’s time to go...

Don’t look for me, you won’t find me.

Tara.

The End.