Disclaimer: "Wands and wings/floaty crowny things" is a pretty clever lyric. Unfortunately, it doesn't belong to me. Neither does the show for which it was written.

I can't stand it.

It feels like the last week has been comprised of the same day. I get up, get dressed, head down to a local café for breakfast…

You know, let me just get right down to it: I know my rat bastard husband is cheating on me.

How do I know?

The question is how could I not?

It's not like he comes home stinking of perfume or with lipstick on his collar. It's nothing so cliché as that.

It's just that…he seems so distant. Like we're on two completely different wavelengths. I ask him how his day went and he answers, "quarter of seven". I like to think that most married couples have communication problems, but this was insane.

Surprisingly, it goes much deeper than that. Whether at dinner or saying 'goodnight', he doesn't even look me in the eyes. He's feeling guilty. Even when he says, "I love you, Trixie", I can tell. There's, like, this flatness in his voice; he wants to mean it, but his heart isn't in it.

Now I never meant to become some amateur sleuth. I watch a lot of television: soap operas, old movies, telenovelas…yeah, it sounds weird, I know. Spanish wasn't my best subject in school, but some of those shows are pretty easy to follow. There's that and Veronica, who's been a mistress to so many guys, it seems like a profession. She's a good woman, but that's kind of her curse: blonde, flighty, eager to please, knockout figure.

I tend to get ideas. There's a difference between us, though: she expects to be part of a love triangle. I expect a happy marriage.

This is really just a side effect. Mommy and Daddy telling the story of the down-trodden girl who is rescued by the handsome prince at the end and they live happily ever after. Okay, so Mommy and Daddy didn't exactly tell me the story, but nanny Olga still did a fine job. And I'm not exactly downtrodden; I mean, I come from money. That's as far from down-trodden as it gets. Even so, don't I deserve a happy ending?

XxXxXxXxX

"Trixie, I'm home!"

And there he is, the unsanitary snake in the grass. He wants to put on an act, then so can I.

I run up to him and kiss him, hug him, give his lying ass a squeeze; really make him think that I'm not on to him.

"Mmmmmm. You've never been this affectionate, Trixie. What's up?" All right. Either he's really smart or really stupid. He's bound to let me know, sooner or later.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just really glad you're here. I get so lonely here."

He hangs up his coat. "Maybe you could consider getting a job."

Is he serious? "Are you serious? There are two reasons why that's unnecessary, both of which share a bed and my last name, which happens to be the name of this building."

"I know your parents did a lot for you…us…but it's not a bad suggestion."

I wrap my arms around his stupid neck. "Tim, Tim, Tim. That's one of the perks of being an heiress, and, moreover, an heiresses' husband. Work is out of the question. I don't know why you don't join me here at home. Better yet, we can retire to a tropical island. Spend the rest of our lives on a beach somewhere. There are tons of beaches…"

"Trixie…my dad taught me about earning an honest wage. It wouldn't be right to just lie around all day, every day."

I move my arms down to his back. I hug him pretty tight. He may be right about that…'honest wages' stuff, or he just doesn't want to leave her. My grip tightens. I bury my face into his shoulder. I want to fight for him, but I don't know what I'm up against.

"Trixie, are you all right?"

I feel tears running down my face. I wipe them away as quickly as I can. "Oh, of course I am, Tim. Just a little emotional is all." I straighten up and fix my hair. I put my hand on his shoulder. "You know, you're right. I do need to get out; get some fresh air."

"Well, I was hoping you'd consider a job, but this is a good start…"

"Oh, Tim, let's not talk about work anymore tonight. Let's just go to bed, hmmm?"

He takes a breath. "Okay." He retires to the bedroom. I follow close behind…

XxXxXxXxX

…just like I'm planning to do today.

I take a shower like I do every morning. Just because I spend my days at home doesn't mean I have to stink.

I walk out in my robe and kiss Tim goodbye. He heads out and makes his own money.

I toss off my robe, revealing a black outfit. All the better to spy on him. I tuck my hair under a cap, which is not easy for me, given how much time I spend on it, and I head out the door and to the stairs. Going down the stairs not only helps me stay out of sight, but it makes for pretty good exercise.

XxXxXxXxX

Tim works at this…company. They make…huh. I guess I never really bothered to ask him what he makes an honest wage doing.

It's about a quarter after twelve. A lot of people who work end up eating lunch around this time.

I'm outside Pora's now. I remember running on the treadmill one night and Tim came up to me and said, "I just had the most delicious club sandwich. It was at Pora's, this sidewalk cafe. A guy at work recommended it to me."

I'm so glad I had paid attention. Usually, when I exercise, I'm completely focused.

I see that a young woman is sitting at a table outside. Her hair is as dark as mine. If not for the glasses, she could be almost as pretty as me.

A figure joins her at the table. Must be the waiter. I pull out my binoculars to get a better look.

My hands shake as I see who sits down at the table. Tim!

I can't make out what they're saying. He rests his hand on hers and gives it a gentle pat.

No. No, no. Maybe I'm making more of this than there is. I mean, it's common for wives to think like th--

Mother of God, he's kissing her! And I don't mean, 'Oh, cousin, it's nice to see you after all these years'. I mean, 'I'm gonna suck your face off and I don't care who knows'.

So carried away are the two of them, they stand up and continue kissing. Probably need more room to break my heart.

I get a good look at the woman's stomach. The two of them certainly didn't waste any time in carrying on this little tryst. I can't believe it. How far along is she?!

It's a good thing I picked a pretty good hiding place. How would it look: 'Wealthy socialite Trixie Tang found vomiting behind a bush in anguish'.

I've got to get out of here.

XxXxXxXxX

I cried all the way back home. There's no way I could go to my parents. They were against my relationship with Tim from the beginning. Mom and Dad had wanted me to get together with someone from money. There's no way a relationship like that could've survived. A lot of those guys are snobs.

I went for Tim because he's more down-to-earth; not that sure of himself. I actually saw myself spending a long time with him. So much for fairy tales.

I hear the key turning in the lock. There he is, the schmuck.

I stand with my arms crossed. The door opens. He walks in, a smile on his face.

"Hey, there, honey. How have you--?"

"Who is she?"

He starts to speak. Better lay down the law.

"And don't embarrass the both of us by lying."

Tim rubs the back of his neck. He takes a breath. "Remember how I used to pursue you in school?"

"Yes." I grow a little irritated with this. What does the past have to do with anything?

"Well, there was this girl that…" He gestures with his hand, searching for the right word. "…pursued me. She had such a crush on me. I thought she'd never give up on me."

"Was that her at Pora's?"

Tim turns on me. "Were you spying on…?"

"I asked first, I get an answer first." I almost shout at him. I hardly ever shout.

"Yes, it was. And I guess that answers my question."

"I have another." I see him wince. Good. He should be feeling uncomfortable. "I saw her stomach. How long has it been?"

"About six months."

"Why, Tim? Why would you do this? I thought we had something."

"I did, too. I thought I had fallen in love with you all those years ago. Looking back, what I had fallen in love with was status. The allure of being with someone like you. You were popular and to a stupid little boy, that's one of the most important things in the world. Virginia had always loved me, but for who I was, not what I was or what I had, and until six months ago, I hadn't figured that out."

He places a hand on my shoulder. At this point, it may as well be a slap to my face. "You're a good woman, but you're not who I want."

"And you wait all this time to tell me?!"

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings! I knew you'd take this badly."

"How the hell else am I supposed to take it? I'd grown to love you, Tim. I wanted us to be together." I run to him and I beat the crap out of him. Actually, that's what I want to do. What I end up doing is collapsing into his arms and crying like a little girl. A little girl who wanted a Prince Charming to rescue her from her wicked parents and the burden of privilege.

XxXxXxXxX

"So, how do you want to do this? You want half of my stuff? I mean, you already have half of my heart."

Tim put his hand up, signaling that I should stop. "I don't want half of your anything, and I have a feeling that you don't want half of my anything, either."

"Good. Now that that's settled, get the hell out of my home."

"And that's it? No goodbyes or anything? Don't I even get to pack?"

"Fine. Pack your things and get out."

He heads to the bedroom and empties the closets and dressers of his things. All I can do is stare at him from the door. He looks back at me and I turn away. I shouldn't stare too much, or I might be tempted to let him stay.

A few minutes fall off the clock and he heads for the door. I run to him and lightly grab him. He turns around. His eyes meet mine. I've changed my mind. I don't want to let him go. I wrap him in a hug. I wish I didn't have to do this, but he's made his choice. There's a woman out there, carrying his child. I never considered having children with him. I'd never brought it up. The thought of all that pain did not sit well with me.

Even so, that child ought to have both parents in their life. I can't imagine anyone not having both parents in their lives. I don't want to take that away. I let go of him and look him in his eyes.

"Do you love this woman?"

"I do love her."

"Then make me a promise: never stop loving her. And when the baby comes, I want you to spoil that child as much as you can. Make them feel loved."

"I will, but why are you telling me this?"

"I loved you, Tim. I would hope that you truly felt the same way. You love that woman enough to break us up? Prove it. Love her."

I've always been pretty strong-willed. If I wanted something, I got it. And now, I want this. He looks at me and nods. "I will."

I give him a face-sucking kiss that lasts a good 30 seconds. I smile a bit. "One for the road."

He smiles and walks out the door. Out of my life. Out of my heart.

I close the door and lean against it. I won't cry. I've shed enough tears over this. It's silly to shed tears over that which is out of your control.

I take a cleansing breath and look over my home. It's going to be awfully lonely here. I really should get out more; see the world. Tim never really liked to travel. It was almost as if he was bored with the places I suggested. I could never figure out why.

Maybe I'll meet someone new. It could happen. The best thing for me is to move on from this. No more am I Trixie Turner, loving wife, but Trixie Tang, single socialite. Sure, the divorce needs to be finalized, but my life is ahead of me. I know I'll find happiness. I have a feeling that Tim finally has.

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A/N: If this story is even slightly familiar to you, then you, like myself, lament the loss of Brat-Child2's one-shots (what made me a Timmy/Tootie shipper in the first place). This story is based on her "No More", expanded and built upon by me. I hope she likes it, assuming she still comes around here.

Thanks for reading and reviewing and have a nice day.