"Breaking Up Is Hard To Do"

…Especially when you're breaking up with Peter Fleming

By Wtchcool

When I broke off the affair I was having with my boss, I thought that my biggest concern would be getting fired. I was wrong.

In hindsight, I should have known better. I'd been a cop for years. How many times had I seen a love triangle end in death? How many times had a jealous lover or spouse killed the person who had tried to walk away? Perhaps it's my fault for not realizing in time that Peter is a dangerous man.

Then again, I probably shouldn't have become involved with him in the first place. I'd promised to forsake all others when I married Dana. The guilt from breaking that vow will stay with me forever.

And yet, it was Dana that had insisted I work for ARK. Marty had gone to her first and convinced her that it was the only option, as soon the Palm City Police Department would be history. She, in turn, had persuaded me to accept the job offer.

She couldn't have anticipated what happened next. I don't know what it was about Peter. Maybe it was that smug, arrogant smile he so often wore. Maybe it was the look he'd get in his eyes while we were working together or that damn British accent of his. Whatever it was, within months we became lovers.

I don't know when Dana put the pieces together. She never did figure out who I was sleeping with, as she finally accused me of seeing another woman. I do know that I felt like pond scum when I realized how I had hurt her. I knew then that it had to end.

I tried to explain it to Peter, to let him down gently. He had to understand that I couldn't keep doing this to Dana. I loved my wife and we were talking about having another baby. I even mustered up the courage to offer him my two weeks' notice if he wanted it.

I saw the pain in his eyes, but he didn't scream, didn't argue, and wouldn't hear of accepting my resignation. He told me that he accepted my decision and that we would keep things platonic from then on.

I'd thought I heard him whisper 'I love you' as I left the penthouse that night, but told myself it was my imagination.

A few nights later, I received a call from Marty, asking me to meet him at the train yards. Perhaps you already know the rest-how I was knocked unconscious after I got there and woke up bound to a chair, Chess looming over me.

Funny how I'd been with Peter all those months and never discovered that he was Chess.

He dispassionately ordered Philips to staple the mask to my head and coldly told me to run. It was hard to recognize the man I'd been intimate with; it was almost as if he were a completely different person.

As I fumbled to undo my restraints, I heard him mutter: "You broke up with the wrong person."

~VF~

A few days after the explosion, I hid behind a tree and listened as Peter delivered a eulogy at my funeral. Rage filled me. How dare he pretend to mourn when he had set me up to die? How dare he fake those tears? Couldn't everyone tell the bastard was faking?

I told Max that I needed to wear the cape so that I could see my son again, but that wasn't the whole truth. I also needed to see Peter again, needed to confront him in person.

I see how choked up he was about my "death." He's wasted no time in trying to seduce the Cape.

Damn Fleming! He took everything from me…even my heart.

Author's Note: Now, doesn't that make you want a Peter/Vince music video? (No, I'm not offering to make one. I'm just saying.)

Just a quick little angsty one-shot. (Go check out my recently finished "Black Bird; Green Arrow"!)

This fic has not been beta-ed. Positive and negative feedback is welcome. Flames will be forwarded to NBC as proof that the fandom is alive more than 5 years after the show's passing.