A/N: Yeah, I'm still alive. Just been very busy with exams and all, so stories and posts are few and far between these days.
This isn't a Christmas fic, despite the title. It could become part of a series, see how I feel.
As usual, there's some people I have to thank, and wanna 'shout out' too :) Meryl-Congrats darling, you'll be an AMAZING lawyer! :)
Rachel- For telling me when I'm being a retard :L
Rhiannon-For your support of my writing, and your constant flattery :L
Fact: The forensic body language was mentioned in episode 1x21 'Justice is Served'. I'm such a geek I'm currently watching Season 1 all over again. Ah well!
So here we go, 'The Angel'. Enjoy!
I didn't think.
That's basically it. I can try and cover it over like Roswell, but it's still there, permanently etched into the subconscious of those who know the truth.
I always wondered what a relationship with her would be like. I could tell you anything about her, from the way she pulls her fingers through her long, strawberry blonde hair when she's stressed, too her her 3 laughs and her sarcastic eyebrow. She was my Angel. The trouble was, I waited so long I was convinced I'd left it far to late to pursue anything more than the friendship we spent years building. And the pain of that was killing me a little more each day.
And then Sara came to me. And while we worked, talked or laughed together, the raw, crippling pain of knowing that the Angel would never be mine was gone. Never completely, but when Sara was near, just for a while, I could forget. I grew to need her, like she was the ultimate pain killer.
Our relationship gradually developed and the night we eventually tumbled into bed together (after a few tequilas and an emotionally tiring case we'd just cracked) it was a relief. To be able to lose myself in a living, breathing woman who wanted me instead of fantasies. But while I care for Sara deeply, its miniscule compared to what I feel for the Angel. But that night with Her showed me I couldn't live in my fantasies where the Angel was mine anymore. At a conference in Los Angeles on forensic body language, that I attended with the Angel ironically, I was told that if a person casts their eyes to the right whilst talking to you, they are remembering, whereas if they look left, they are fabricating. That night with Sara told me I couldn't let my mind and heart constantly look left anymore. So, I let go, and asked Sara out.
That was when everything changed.
At first it was simple, subtle things. The Angel no longer came to my office as often as she used too, using me as the last resort if someone was equally as useful on a case. It escalated to immediately leaving the break room the second I set foot over the threshold, as if I were suffering bubonic plague. That, and she wouldn't look me in the eye anymore.
We still speak, but these days the answers are still polite, but brisk and straight to the point. Then yesterday, she looked me in the eye. Only for a second, but that brief glance told me so much, and finally brought it home.
The Angel hated me.
And I've no one but myself to blame. The one person I swore I'd never hurt, I have, and without even trying!
But I can't reverse the past. I can't hurt Sara, not after all she's done for me, even if she didn't realize it. So by her side I'll stay, still hurting, for a different reason.
I hurt the Angel. And there's nothing I can do about it.
Merry Christmas. Give a gift, leave a review :) Make a 15 year old child's Christmas :)