Change of Season

Disclaimer: Joss owns all.

Raiting: R

Pairing: Joyce/Faith

A/N: This is a Alternate Universe fiction every ones human. Joyce
and Faith in a sexual situation. I know it's not fuffy give it a
chance anyway you might like it.

A/N2 This is for the three people who were kind enough to offer
feedback. Big smoochies, Thanks. i hope you like this chapter
another one coming soon. sorry for taking to long.

Feedback: Yes

Change of Seasons, part 5

1

Faith sits staring at the row of shot glasses in front of her.

Today is her 21st birthday, and by damned, she's going to get drunk.
Wasted. Plastered. Pie eyed. Whatever you wanted to call it, that's
where she is going.

She takes the first shot, and tosses it back neatly.

Not that it would be all that different from the days leading up to
her birthday. Lately, her days have been laced with frustration and
anger, and her nights are pretty much a haze of alcohol, fights and
an occasional trip to holding tank in jail.

Now, at least, I don't have to use that fucking fake I.D. anymore.
I'm legal. Yeah, great.

She takes the second shot, and with a practice hand, throws it back,
letting the fiery liquid burn down her throat.

The way Joyce burned down her heart. Just leaving a big ache and
ashes behind.

Goddamn that Paulie. He couldn't even be here tonight to toss back a
couple with me. What's his deal, anyway? Just because he has a night
job, couldn't he take one fucking night off to celebrate his
sister's big night? I mean, shit, would've killed him to fucking NOT
go to work tonight? Well, I'm guessin' I know what's more important
to him. Screw him. Like, he should be different from anyone else?

Good old parents. Yup, betting their celebrating my big birthday.
Glad to be rid of me, and hey, wishin' maybe their daughter had been
stillborn.

She lifts a third shot. "Here's to family" She calls out to nobody.
She raises the shot and downs it fast.

"Hey, hey!" Jake McConnell, barkeep and owner of Jake's, comes down
to Faith. "Go easy on those, girl. They aint goin' nowhere. There's
no rush to drink 'em. Take it a bit slower," Jake notes three shots
have been killed.

"I'm celebratin' here, Jake. It's my 21st, so do me a favor and
don't be actin' like my Da tonight, ok? I got a right to celebrate,
right? I mean, it's a biggun, the 21st," She stares at the empty
shot glasses. "Not that anyone gives a rat's ass, but it's a biggun!"

"Now, Faith, that's not fair. Lots of people care…"

"Yeah, sure, Jakey. I guess I'm just havin' a hard time seein' 'em,
for all the people crowdin' around wishin' me a happy birthday.
Guess that's it, huh?" Her face hardens, and she reaches for a
fourth shot. "Aw, who the fuck cares, anyway? I don't need 'em. Got
my friends right here." She waves at the glasses. "Family, too."

"Faith McKerrigan is that even fair? Have ya tried talking to them?
Seeing them?"

"Sure I have, Jakey. And guess what? They don't got no daughter, uh-
uh. Shit, no. No daughter of theirs is a big old dyke lesbo queer.
Nope."

"C'mon, Faith, you know how attitudes are around here. It's not easy
for them either, you know."

"So that gives them the right to cut me dead, huh, Jake?" Faith
frowns, "Real nice, that. And loving how my dear brother Paulie
couldn't be here tonight, either. Real sweet. Would it have killed
him to be here? But I'm guessin' he's not fond of having a queer
sister," Faith takes a fourth shot, but doesn't down it. She sips
it. "Of course, It's all easy-peasey for me, huh? Screw it, Jake.
They don't care, and guess what? I don't either." She takes and
tilts back her head, letting the fourth shot trickle down her throat.

"Fine, Faith. Feel sorry for yourself. That's gonna do ya real lotta
good. We both know this aint the first night you've been acting like
a jackass. You've been this way since…"

"What? What, Jake?" Faith glares at him, "What're you getting at,
Jakey?"

Jake can tell from the look in her eyes that maybe not isn't the
best time to discuss this. Probably, never is the best time to bring
this up, I'm thinking.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Jake moves down the bar to tend to his
other customers. "Happy birthday, Faith."

"Yeah, whatever," Faith mutters to herself. Nobody asked your
opinion, you paddy Mick; so keeping to yourself would be real nice
right now. Not wanting to think about nothin' except getting really
drunk, really fast.

Faith is beginning to feel the kick of the four shots she's downed,
and she leans her head on her hand, looking at the remaining shots.
Her eyes are at half mast.

Despite her best efforts, however, she can't keep Joyce from her
thoughts.

Goddamn it. One fucking night, I ask not to think about her, and
here she comes, roarin' back into my brain. Why the fuck can't I
forget her? She's just some broad I met. Shouldn't mean shit. Not
the first time I've been like in love. Never fucked me up like this
before.

God, I hate that bitch. What right did she have to treat me like
that? I didn't do shit wrong! I did everything right! But no, that's
not good enough for her! No way! Gotta dump me like last night's
trash. She wouldn't even tell me why! No, just some 'It's all wrong,
you and me!' Shit, didn't seem so fucking wrong when I … aw, screw
it. What good is this doin'? She's probably out there now, laughin
at me, thinking what a fool she made of me. Prolly laughing her ass
off, thinkin' what a dope I am. Yeah, well, fuck HER too!

Faith lays her head on her arms, staring at the little shot glasses
in front of her.

"So, babies," She mutters low, her speech slightly slurred, "Which
one of ya gonna do it tonight, eh? Which one's gonna make it all
good, so I can sleep?" She lifts her head, and points at the
drinks. "Eeny, meany, miney, moe… hmmm… well, let's just pick one
and see, whattya say? So far, you're dead cousins haven't done shit."

She grabs a shot, and throws it back quickly. She brings the glass
down hard on the bar.

"Ahhh," She sighs, feeling the fire work down her throat. Then, she
stares ahead, as if looking through the walls of the little bar. Her
head slumps down, and her eyes narrow to slits.

"Hmmm," She mutters to herself, feeling her brain starting to swirl
in her head. "Yeah, this… is good…" She smiles sloppily at the other
shots, and snorts. "Guess you ladies gonna have to wait til later…
think I'll take a little rest now, then we'll party, 'k?"

Slumping over, her head comes to rest on the bar. It makes a slight
thunking sound as it hits the old oak bar.

And she's out.

She's back on that street in Salem, facing Joyce. Feeling confused,
angry, and crushed, all at the same time.

" There's nothing to work out! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Joyce, losing it,
not able to cope, breaks away, turns and bolts across the street.
She runs up the steps of the hotel.

Faith stands there, mouth agape. She can't believe what just
happened.

This is insane! This can't be happening. What happened in there?
What did those pricks do to her? Why did she do that to me?

Faith feels the anger rise in her. She turns and looks in the window
of the Salem Café.

Those pricks. Those two pricks did this. I'm so gonna find out what
they said to her. Then maybe I'll do a Mexican hat dance on their
heads.

Her anger flaring, not thinking straight, she turns to the café, and
bursts in through the doors.

The place, a popular tourist spot, is packed, and she can't see
around the people milling about. She pushes her way through the
crowd, to more than one dirty look, and makes for the table where
they were sitting.

Only to find the two men gone, and some money left on the table as a
tip. Son of a bitch! She looks around, but sees nothing. She works
through the crowd, finally reaching the cashier.

" Hey, did you see a couple of guys? I mean, one was like kinda
solidly built, and the other was kinda skinny, wearing a dorky hat?"

" Maybe…" the cashier sounds doubtful. Then she brightens. " Oh
yeah, was it like one of those fishing hats with the flies attached
to it?"

" That's it babe. Did you see where they went?"

" They left maybe 5 minutes ago?"

" Which way?"

The cashier nods towards the front doors.

" Thanks!"

Faith pushes her way through the crowd, with some very vocal
grumbling, until she reaches the doors. She pops outside, and looks
both ways.

No Hank. No Jack. Just a couple of family groups, and a bunch of
kids.

She trots down one way, looking left and right, trying to spot the
solidly built guy, or Jack's stupid hat, with no success. Running
back, she goes up a block or two before giving up.

Damn, lost them. Now what do I do?

She stands there for awhile, knowing what she has to do, just
putting it off.

She has to go back to the Inn. Confront Joyce, and try to get some
answers. But the way Joyce treated her on the street, she hesitates.
Does she … I mean, I thought… damn, why'd she do that? Did she want
to hurt me? Well, worked! Still… I gotta know. I gotta know if she
meant it or was forced into it. Damn it, she had to be forced into
it. I can't believe it was just … nothing to her. I know it was
something. I could… Damn, this is sucky on so many levels it stinks.

Still, Faith's feet seem reluctant to go back to the Inn. What Joyce
did to her was like being slapped in public. Totally humiliating and
hurtful. Maybe I got it all wrong. Maybe she never cared for me…

No, not gonna buy that. Uh-uh. No way, she was there, right with me.
Something's going on, and damn it, I deserve to know what. I'm not
gonna just back off like some weak little kitten and let her face
this alone. I love her, and dammit I'm sure as hell not gonna let
her twist.

Faith, feeling a renewed determination, trots down the street and up
the stairs to the Salem Inn.

2

Tina Gallagher is pissed.

You can tell because her ears have turned a bright pink. Also, her
normally peaches and cream skin is blotchy. Her eyes are hard and
narrow, and her bow shaped lips are pressed together tightly.

She walks into Jake's, the steam almost coming out of her ears,
she's so angry. This isn't the first time she has been called to
come ' get' Faith. Lately, it's been a routine, like flossing and
doing the laundry. Except it isn't nearly as fun.

She walks to the bar, and catches Jake's attention. Jake comes over,
smiling apologetically.

"Ah, there you are girl. Good to see you. How's…"

"Where is she?" Tina asks, shortly.

"Now, Tina? Is that anyway to greet an old friend?"

"Sorry. Hello Jake," She says, sarcastically. "Where is she?"

Jake sighs, and nods towards the end of the bar. Tina spots Faith,
head down on the bar, and feels her irritation rising.

"Oh no, not again. Dammit, Jake, not again!" She walks down to the
bar, touches Faith, gets no response, and looks up, her eyes
blazing. "God, what is it with you, Jake? What did I ask you the
last time, and the time before, and the time before THAT about her?
Don't, and I repeat, don't let her get drunk. She gets angry when
she's drunk, and she's hard to handle. And there she is… drunk."

"Well, she was upset. It was here 21st birthday, and it seems no one
could take the time to be with her," Jake says with some
asperity. "Funny, isn't it? How none of her family of friends could
be with her."

"Yeah, well, some of us gotta work for a living. I'm sorry I
couldn't take off on a moment's notice just to blow out candles with
her," Tina says, a little defensively. Feeling just a little
guilty." But what's the excuse for the other times, Jake? I'm
picking her out of bars more often than I do laundry, Jake. Never
mind the times I gotta bail her out of jail…"

" Well, maybe if you paid attention, you'd know things haven't been
all clover for her, girl," Jake gives her the eye." Did you know
that she lost her job last month?"

"No," Tina says, "But considering how she's been acting, I surprised
it didn't happen sooner…"

"How 'bout the fact that she's being evicted? That was her birthday
present, Tina. Nice huh?"

"Maybe if she didn't try to put on airs so much, take an affordable
place…"

"God, are you heartless, girl? Is that thing in your chest made of
stone?" Jake looks at her, frowning. "She's been having a string of
bad luck, and you're makin' it out like it's her fault…"

"Who's at fault then, Jake?" Tina looks down at the sleeping
Faith. "No one's twisting her arm to …" She waves her hand over the
unconscious Faith. Faith mumbles something loud, and snorts. Tina
looks at her." … do this to herself, except herself."

"That's pretty cold, comin' from someone's been in here more than
once cryin' in her beer over…"

"That's beside the point, Jake. The point is, why'd you let her get
this drunk, again? Now I gotta haul her outta here, and try to sober
her up. You're really not helping, Jake McConnell, servin' her so
much booze she gets this way. "

"I thought it better she come here, and get drunk, where someone who
cares about her can keep an eye on her, rather than goin' to a
strange place and get plastered," Jake puts up his hands, "but if
you'd rather start picking her up at the police station again…"

"I'd rather not be picking her up at all. I wouldn't have to, if
you'd just help out a little," She looks at Jake, and makes a
face. "Yeah, I might as well talk to a brick wall, cuz you're not
getting it, Jake."

"I'm getting it all right, Tina Gallagher," Jake smiles
tightly, "You're just pissed because it's not you that she's
mournin' over, aint it!"

"That's a crock, Jake. Whatever we had been long over. I just don't
get her getting all bent because that old broad dumped her…"

"Old broad my eye. She was in her prime, girl. And a very attractive
woman to boot," He tilts his head. "As I recall, you're not as young
as you used to be either, Tina. I'm thinking you were pretty much
robbin' the cradle when you took up with Faith… she was only 17, as
I recall… and you were knockin' on 23 at that time…"

"Yeah, still a lot closer than that… prime woman," Tina says. Her
face is a little tight. "Screw this, I got better things to do than
talk to you all night."

Tina walks over to Faith, and tries to rouse her. Meeting with no
success, she looks a Jake.

"What the hell did you serve her?" She picks up a shot glass and
smells it. "Man I swear, Jake, you love to make my life hard." She
starts to shake Faith.

"C'mon, Girl, wake up, time to go home…"

"C'mon, Joyce, talk to me!"

Faith is back in that room, that room where they shared so much.
She's watching as Joyce hurriedly packs.

" Faith, I told you. There's nothing to talk about," Joyce walks
over to the closet, entering it to get some of her clothes. She
calls out from inside." It's over. That's it. Now just leave me
alone, and let me get packed. I've got a train to catch."

" So, that's it? It was nothing? Just a weekend? That's all?" She
marches over to the closet, blocking the doorway. " I don't believe
you. I don't. I could feel it. It was special…. It meant something
to you. Talk to me! Tell me what's wrong!"

"Are you deaf?" Joyce turns around, her face red. " I told you.
WE'RE wrong! What we did? That was wrong. It never should've
happened. So, just go, Faith. I'm tired, and I'd really like some
peace now." She turns back towards the hanging clothes.

" No, I don't believe you. I don't! It wasn't wrong, dammit ,and you
know that. It was right. You and me, we're right! Don't you get
that? We're so right, it hurts. Dammit, look at me!" Faith reaches
out, grabs Joyce's arm and turns her around. " You know we're right
together. We fit. You told me, Joyce. You told me you loved me. What
about that?"

" I lied, don't you get that? I lied! I don't love you. I never
loved you!"

" Joyce, please," Faith's voice goes soft. She moves in on Joyce,
circling her arms around Joyce's waist. She lays her head against
Joyce's back." Please, don't do this. Don't shut me out. Let me help
you, baby. Let me make it better…"

" Don't… don't touch me," Joyce's voice quavers. " Get away from me,
please get away!" She turns, and breaking Faith's grip, shoves her
away. " I don't want you, I don't need you. Go away!"

" Joyce," Faith, her heart breaking, her face reflecting that, still
goes back for more. " Please, honey, talk to …"

SLAP!

" Wake up, Faith! Don't you get it? The world isn't about just you!
It doesn't revolve around you."

" Joyce…" Faith's hand flies to where Joyce slapped her. " Please…
don't do…"

Joyce grabs her by the shoulders, starting to shake her.

" Wake up, can't you see it? It's wrong, and it'll never be right.
Can't you just leave me alone? Wake up, Faith…"

"Wake up , Faith, for god's sake, WAKE UP…"

"… WAKE UP, Damn you Faith McKerrigan. Get your drunken ass UP!"
Tina is slapping and shaking her.

"Wha…?" Faith's eyes fly open. " Joyce…?"

"No, not Joyce, you sot, Tina," Tina slaps her again. " Wake up. I
can't carry your drunken ass outta here. Get up so I can take you
home."

"Tina?" Faith looks amazed, then smiles. " Tina! Baby, " She pours
on the drunken charm. " Hey, how are ya?"

"C'mon, get up," Tina sighs, trying to get Faith's arm around her
shoulder. Made more difficult because Faith keeps pulling it away. "
Stop that. Let me help you up."

"Hey, I'm great here," Faith pulls her arm away again, "You made
it," Faith smiles at her, her smile loose and sloppy. "C'mon, have a
drink with me. It's my 21st birthday, aint that cool?" She smiles
wickedly, and puts her arms around Tina's waist. She pulls her
close. "Where's my birthday kiss, babe?" She leans in, blowing her
100 proof breath into Tina's face. "C'mon, baby, give us a lil
kiss." She starts to paw Tina.

Yeah, you want me when your bleedin' drunk, right Faith? God.

None too gently, Tina resists Faith's advances, pushing her hands
away. She grabs Faith's ear, and twists it hard.

"OW, Fuck, that hurts" Faith tries to bat at Tina's hand, but Tina
ducks away from her arms.

" Get up, you sot, and let's get goin'. Jake is closing up soon."

Tina maneuvers herself behind Faith, and starts pushing her towards
the door.

"Stop it!" Faith cries out, still waving her arms around. "That
really hurts," She complains, as she heads for the exit. Spotting
Jake, she tries to stop. "Jakey, help me, she's hurting me!"

Jake shakes his head, a sad look on his face. "Just get home, lass."
He turns away, pretending to be busy with the glasses behind the bar.

"Thanks loads, Jake. Fine friend you are," Faith calls out. "See if
I ever come here again!"

"Yeah, Jake, thanks loads," Tina echoes, a sour expression on her
face.

Tina shoves Faith out the door, letting it slam behind her.

Once outside, the cool air sobers Faith up enough so she lands a
punch on Tina's arm, causing her to let go of Faith's ear for a
moment. Faith turns on her, shoving her away hard.

" Damn you, you nearly twisted my ear off, you stupid cunt. What the
hell were you trying to do?" She shoves her again, angrily, "c'mon,
you dumb bitch, answer me!" She balls up her fist, waving it at
Tina, " I should…"

"What, hit me?" Tina smirks, bobbing and weaving a little, "Is that
what you did to your girlfriend, Faith? Hit her? Is that why she
left you?"

"You fucking…" Faith takes a swing, missing Tina and losing her
balance a little, stumbling forward.

Tina shoves her, causing her to run into the wall. Faith bounces
off, and comes at her, swinging at her again. She connects, but only
with Tina's shoulder. Tina shoves her way, laughing.

"God you pathetic piece of shit. You're an idiot. Goin after some
broad twice your age. You're an ass, Faith McKerrigan."

"Yeah, well, at least I went after someone with some class, Tina.
Not some washed up, used up jaded ho like you!" Faith manages to
slap her.

Tina sees red. Forgetting Faith's drunk, forgetting where she is,
forgetting everything except she's madder than hell, she rushes at
Faith, pushing her into the side wall of the bar.

"You fucking BITCH!" She screams at Faith, starting to punch her in
earnest. Her blows land efficiently, hitting Faith in her upper
body, face and stomach. "God, just like you! Just fucking like you!
You think you're better than me, better than where you came from!"
She starts kicking Faith, hitting her thighs and legs. " I'm tired
of this. Tired of chasing after you, pulling your ass outta the
fire."

Faith, overwhelmed by her fury and rage, just tries to block the
worst of the blows.

"You're hurting. Well, boo- hoo, get over it. I'm sick of your
whining. God you think you're the ONLY girl that's ever had her
heart broken?" She starts hitting harder," I'm tired of coming to
get you, I'm tired of getting calls at 3 a.m. to bail your drunken
ass out of jail. God, I'm just tired of … SHIT!"

Tina yells when Faith, tired of being her punching bag, grabs her,
and head butts her. Tina stands there for a second, dazed.

"How's it feel, bitch?" Faith taunts her. She raises her fist. "
Gonna put you out, you little…"

Tina, recovering, gives Faith an uppercut to the jaw, putting
everything she has into it. She literally lifts Faith off her feet,
who goes flying back into the wall, and like an old movie, slides
down on her butt, unconscious.

Tina looks down at her friend, and makes a disgusted noise

"God, whatta fucking waste."

She grabs Faith by the collar, and hauling her up the best she can,
grabs her under her arms. She starts dragging her towards her car.

" Come on, useless, let's get you home."

3

Joyce sits at her desk, staring out at evening lights of Sunnydale.

Before her, on the computer screen is the final proposal for an
estate auction her gallery is bidding on. She already pretty much
had it worked out in her head. She knew what she wanted, what she
was willing to pay, her negotiation percentage, all the other little
things she need for this deal. Pretty much she just had to review
the proposal in front of her, ok it or modify it, as necessary, and
send it along. Easy stuff, something she could finish in 10 minutes.

Frankly, she's stalling. Once she finishes this up, she really has
no excuse to not call it a day, pack it up, and go home.

Problem was, going home wasn't all that appealing these days. Truth
be told, she dreaded it.

First of all, there was Hank. Or, more to the point, there wasn't
Hank.

At first, after they got back together, he made what seemed to be a
real effort to reconcile. He paid attention to her, included her in
his business affairs, took her out and frankly tried to woo her
back. Especially while they were in Boston, he did everything he
could to mollify her, get her to go along and pretend to be the
devoted, happy wife.

Knowing what he had on her, Joyce played along. Inside, she felt
hollow. He had her against the wall, and there was no wiggle room,
no way around it. She had to play along, or risk losing their
daughters. She wasn't going to let that happen. So she played along,
and Hank got his contract.

Even when they returned to California, it looked for awhile that he
wanted to change his ways. He made an effort, even moving up to
Sunnydale from L.A., to spend time with his daughters and her. He
even made noises about a reconciliation, some way for them to be a
family again.

Despite her reservations, despite their history together, she
decided to try it. Dropping the divorce, she agreed to try to make
it work again.

Maybe this is for the best. For Buffy and Dawn's sake. They should
have their father around. It's only right. He is part of their
lives. We can do this; we can make this work.

Hank soon started falling back into his old patterns. Now that he
had to commute to L.A., he started spending more and then even more
time away from home. Finally, he told them one night that to keep
from having the make the two hour drive every morning and evening,
he would be spending the week down in L.A., coming home on weekends
to be with them.

The kids seem to buy it. Buffy, perhaps because she was closer to
Hank than to Joyce, wanted it to be so. Wanted this family to be
together. So she very much bought into the company line, or at least
appeared to. Dawn seemed a little more skeptical, but like Buffy,
she wanted her family to be intact. So, she didn't say anything,
just seeming to accept the arrangement as normal.

Joyce wasn't buying into the lie. Even before he moved to L.A.,
Joyce knew Hank was up to his old tricks. She tried to reach him at
his office on more than one of those 'late nights', only to find him
gone. And he wasn't even trying this time to hide the odor of
another woman on his clothing. Like before, he withdrew from her,
acting normally in front of the girls, but otherwise pretty much
ignoring her.

However, this time, she was stuck. Hank had all the cards. All the
evidence the sleazoid detective gathered on her he had in a safe
deposit box at some bank. If she made noises, any noises, about
divorcing him, leaving him, he merely reminded her that he would
start legal proceedings to take the girls away from her. That he'd
expose her as a moral degenerate, taking up with some woman half her
age. That her reputation socially, professionally and personally,
with the girls, would be ruined. So, she better shut up and put up,
or frankly, she'd have nothing left.

The second problem was, well to put it in a word, Buffy. Ever since
she got back from her trip, and they moved to Sunnydale, Buffy had
been more and more distant from her. Also, when she was gone, Buffy
had started hanging with a new group of kids. A group that Joyce
wasn't particularly fond of. What she'd learned from Buffy in that
phone call she'd made to Boston had been only the tip of the
iceberg. It wasn't til she got back to L.A. that Joyce learned about
this new, wild group of friends. Buffy had been breaking curfew, a
lot. She came home more than once, in her Aunt's opinion, drunk or
high. She slept late, was willful, and started acting out in a bunch
of ways.

When they returned home together, that seemed for awhile to
straighten Buffy out. On this front, both she and Hank were united.
They needed to get Buffy away from this new group of friends. That
was one reason they decided to go ahead with the move to Sunnydale;
it was a chance to start fresh in a new town, and a new school.
Maybe here Buffy would settle down and begin to act like her old
self.

Still, Joyce was worried. Even though Buffy seemed to be trying to
be her old, cheerleader, popular girl self, there was something else
there, something worrisome. It flared up once in awhile, but not
often enough to be really troublesome. Not yet, anyway. But it was
just something else going wrong in her life.

Joyce just thanked god for Dawn. In contrast to Buffy, Dawn seemed
to take things calmly, rolling along with the waves. She pretty much
accepted the reality of what was happening and tried to make the
best of it. Oh, that's not to say she was the perfect child. She
could be stubborn, temperamental; at times, cutting in her remarks.
But overall, she was adjusting better to things than Buffy. At
least, as far as Joyce could see.

Joyce was glad that school was starting up soon. It would give the
girls something else to concentrate on. Making new friends, worrying
about what classes they would be taking, all the other activities
she hoped they would get involved in would give them a sense of
normalcy. At their ages, they needed that. They needed something,
because Joyce knew in her heart, it was a sham.

So now what? What happens when it becomes obvious to the girls that
Hank is back to his old ways? In a way, I almost hope they don't get
it. At least, for awhile. All I know is right now, I just want to
keep things peaceful, keep the girls happy, and try my best to just
get by. Pass the time, and hope that eventually, I'll be able to put
this all behind me…

God, that's what it's come down to. Pass the time. Not live, not
love, not anything, but pass the time. Hope I make it through this
night without going insane. Hope that this night, I can forget her,
put her behind me, forget I ever met her. God, I miss her sooo
damned much. Her smiles, the way she'd laugh at just laugh at
anything Like the whole world was amusing, and she so enjoyed being
in it. With me. The look in her eyes when she looked at me. The way
she just casually took my hand and made my heart nearly burst out of
my chest. God, the way she kissed me. And touched me, oh god I miss
that so much. Everything about her, I miss so much. So damned much.

I don't even have a picture of her. But I really don't need one. How
can I forget her eyes? Or the way her cheeks dimple when she
smiles. Or her wild brown hair, so full and rich, and it always
smelled clean and sweet? Or her hands, how soft and warm they are?
Or her lips. God, how soft and full her lips are, how they felt on
mine? I don't need a picture; she's burned on my brain. I can't
forget her. That's what's the worst.

I just wish I'd never met her. Never gone to the Gardner Museum that
day.

Before I met her, I was ok. I wasn't rolling in the happy field, or
anything, but at least I was accepting. I didn't know what it was
like to be in love, really in love. I thought my life, even with
Hank, was ok. I thought that was normal, that's just what happens
over time. You fall into love, you get married, and then life
happens, and you fall out of love. Then you just got by, and hey,
you were healthy, and you had security, so everything was just fine.

But she awoke things in me I hadn't felt in ages. Some things I
never felt before, period. Just two weeks with her changed me so
much, changed my perspective so radically, that I can't ever go back
to how it was. I can't be just mom, or Just Hank's wife, and not
want something for me. Something that's mine. Something that makes
me, Joyce, happy. And I feel selfish feeling this way, because I
should just be able to accept how life is. I should just deal with
it, and get past it, and accept.

And I can't, dammit, I just can't!

Joyce becomes aware that everything's become blurry around her. She
feels the sting of unshed tears in her eyes, and she grabs a Kleenex
out of the drawer, impatiently wiping her eyes.

Wiping away the tears doesn't wipe out the achy emptiness she feels
inside. She sighs, and turns to the computer screen.

10 minutes later, on the dot, she's reviewed the proposal, indicated
her approval, and has sent it off. Finished, she turns off the
computer and stands up.

She walks to the coat rack in her office, and retrieves her coat and
purse. She walks to the office door, pausing only to shut off the
lights. The office door closes quietly behind her.

Time to go home. Time to pretend to be happy. Pretend that
everything's normal

Joyce knows that nothing's normal. Or happy. Or right. And she
knows, she doesn't know any way to fix it.

All she knows is that she's in her private little hell.

To Be Continued.