Fic... "The Talk" 'G'-'PG'

["A.M. Glass" <glasswrks@xxxxxxxxx>]

Title: "The Talk."
Author: Angela
E-Mail: glasswrks@xxxxxxxxx
Copyright: Nov. 25, 2000
Rating: 'G' -'PG'. Can't really decide.
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 is the sole property of the
author... me. I mean, who else would want to take
credit for this?
Distribution: Kim, Gary, Bill, Jen, if you'd like it,
it's yours.
Author's Note: I bet some of you wondered if you'd
ever hear from me again. It's been a LONG time since
I've posted here. It's been a long time since I've
written anything. I'm not really sure if this story
works. It's not beta'd, so the mistakes are mine and
mine alone. It's somewhat angst-y (not sure if that's
a word). And it's really just thoughts moreso than a
story.
Feedback: Up to you. It would be nice.

*****

Many things race through my mind from one moment to
the next. And the fascinating part is that these
thoughts, they aren't random. They aren't tiny time
capsules of my life, of my past, my present.

No.

Rather, they seem to focus on one person.

Someone who has taken up more time than almost anyone.

Best friends and family included.

And that is quite an accomplishment in my eyes.

She... she is someone that breathed life into me...

Someone who makes me want to be around her, 'simply'
because 'she's' breathing.

Someone I hope to know for a very long time.

It hasn't been easy for me, keeping how I feel about
her a secret.

Not by a long shot.

And there have been plenty of moments when I thought
to myself, that 'this' was the day I'd tell her. I've
imagined it so many times...

How I'd tell her...

I'd ask her to take a walk with me.

No one else, just us.

That there's something I need to tell her.

I can 'see' the slight apprehension on her face, as if
she's wondering what's going on.

Why all the cloak and dagger stuff?

Would I tell her something that could possibly leave
her heartbroken?

Am I dying?

Is that why I want to talk to her alone?

Well...

We'd finally make it to this
'all-too-perfect-to-be-real' location that I happened
to stumble across a few days earlier.

We'd sit down and I'd take her hand in mine and only
after releasing the breath I'm sure I would have been
holding, I'd gaze down at our hands...without saying a
word.

Just looking at our hands and seeing how nice they
look together.

I would think about the strength they possess...

Not the one I've seen from time to time, but rather
the quiet strength.

The one that keeps us grounded in many ways.

I can feel her free hand under my chin, tilting it, so
that I'm looking at her.

The concern is clearly written on her face. And she
would ask...

"What's wrong?"

I know I should say something at this moment. Anything
to allay the fear that starts to form in her eyes,
fear that I've put there by being quiet.

"Please... tell me what's wrong. You're scaring me."

And with that entreaty, one I can not ignore...

I do something that will either free my soul...

Or condemn me to a life of apologies and loneliness.

I'd look into her eyes and before slipping back into
my secret longing for her...

I'd bridge the gap between us and kiss her.

That's just one of the many thoughts I have about her.
I've never let myself go beyond that point. I don't
want to guess how she'd react.

I dare not.

The thought of rejection grips my heart and that
forces me back into hiding...

Into longing.

Sometimes...

Just sometimes, I wonder if she feels the same way.

But, I try not to linger too long on that thought.

So... I sit here, while she sits across from me,
reading silently.

One day soon, I will take her hand and ask her to take
a walk with me. For I 'have' found the
'all-too-perfect-to-be-real' location.

And I for one was very surprised to find it.

Surprised when she took me there last week...

I wonder what she was going to tell me, before we had
to get back.

I should have asked her...

But I couldn't.

I was far too engrossed looking at our hands...

Maybe...

Maybe...

I missed something.

The End.

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