A/N: Another thing I wrote tonight, and since I will never publish it if I reread it, there might be some errors that I made while writing. Sorry for that. I hope you can still enjoy it. Reviews are always appreciated and make my heart happy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just here making up stuff that will never happen anyway.


When Bo and Tamsin pulled apart after the kiss, Tamsin should have been braver.

She should have had the balls to say how she felt. She should have admitted her love to Bo.

Had she done it, maybe things would've turned out differently.

Maybe, they wouldn't sit across the room from each other, Tamsin stealing glances at the brown haired beauty through the crowd, sipping her warm beer.

Maybe, had she done it, they would be sitting next to each other, with Tamsin's arm around Bo's shoulders, the Succubus' laughter, her smile, directed at the blonde, not some pretty stranger that she was like to feed on tonight.

Maybe Tamsin would have been all the feed Bo ever needed.

But she wouldn't know. Tamsin would never know, because she never had the courage to try.

Instead, she had been content with what she got.

What she had gotten was one night. One single night with Bo.

She had thought it would be enough, that her longing for the other woman would be gone by the morrow, lost among the tangle of sheets, limbs and brown and blonde hair mixed together.

She thought she would awake as a different person.

Granted, never since her rebirth had she felt so alive as in the moment she was lowered onto the bed, Bo climbing on top of her. But in the morning, with the sun stealing in through the window, in the new light of the day, everything had changed, and Tamsin had awoken with the realisation that one night would never be enough.

But what she also realised, in this very moment, sitting in the Dal, stealing glances at Bo, was that it would never have been the way she wanted it to be.

And maybe, she thought, just maybe, she had known that the moment the kiss ended.

And maybe, just maybe, she preferred one night, to no night at all.

Maybe they weren't meant to be after all.

But what she also realised, as she let her gaze wander across the crowded room, was that one may never know their own faith.

So she thought again, about the prophecy given, about the beautiful stranger with eyes gold and hazel, those eyes that could mean her doom as well as her salvation.

And maybe, she thought, what will never be, will be after all.

Her beer was placed on a table, completely forgotten, as she made her way across the room.