Work Text:
Another Night Gone By
by Pirate Turner
She stirred her water absent-mindedly, leading the straw around in circles against the glass. She had much rather concentrate on its trivialness than on the real dilemma that haunted her mind, heart, and spirit. A quick glance at her watch confirmed that she had already been waiting an hour. She could feel the occasional stares from the people around her, but she forced herself to ignore them as her sad, brown eyes focused solely on the straw in her glass of water that had once been cold.
He should have been here by now. Even if it were ordinary lateness, he should have been here by now. He had told her -- no, *promised* her that he would meet her this night. Yes, he had warned her that he had business to take care of elsewhere, not bothering to explain where or what as usual, but he had promised her that he would be here this night, at 7 o'clock sharp. It was now 8 o'clock, and he was no nearer her sight than he had been when he had orbed out that morning. She sighed softly, determined to wait however long it turned out to be necessary.
An hour later, she still had not moved from her sitting spot. She didn't want to miss him. She didn't dare to leave their table, but she had to do something. Her legs were falling asleep, and there was only so many times of hitting the low underside of the table that her knees could take. Picking up her small, black handbag, she headed to the bathroom, ignoring the stares that followed her.
The bathroom turned out to be empty, and she knew that the other women there at the restaurant were enjoying themselves with their dates. As she leaned against the wall with a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes briefly and found herself thinking that that should be them, that they should be enjoying this night, that they should be allowed to have the freedom of at least one night out on the town with just the two of them and no Demons or Them to be concerned with. She opened her eyes only to find herself staring directly at her reflection in the long mirrors before the sinks. She could see the tears that glistened in her brown eyes but forced them bravely down just as another woman entered the bathroom.
She watched in silence as the woman tossed her bag down on the table, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and began to smoke. Their eyes met in the mirror, and the tall blonde turned to look at her. She exhaled the smoke before speaking. "Ya look like ya could use a smoke," she said, offering the pack of cigarettes towards the brunette.
She shook her head. "No thanks. I don't smoke."
The other woman shrugged. "That's your problem." She took another puff, then continued. "I mean, no offense or whatever; it's just that smoking helps ta calm a woman's nerves. Sure ya don't want one? I don' mind." At the other woman's confirming nod, she slipped the pack back into her bag, still intently studying her face.
The way the blonde looked at her caused her to grow uneasy, and she had just began to wonder if she should leave when the woman finally spoke again. "It's a man, ain't it?"
She couldn't resist piping up with her answer, "How did you know?"
The woman sighed and shook her head from where she leaned against the cabinets. "Always is, ain't it?"
She couldn't help but to agree. "Nine times out of ten, at the very least."
"Take it from me, gel," the blonde continued. "Ain't no man worth the trouble I see in your eyes. They come, and they go. Always have, always will. Don't let 'em get ta ya so. Yer'll only end up regrettin' it."
Just then, the door opened, and a redhead poked her head in. "Annie, you ready? The guys're getting anxious."
Annie jerked her blonde curls back towards the direction of the door, indicating for the other lady to return from whence she came. "I'll be out in a couple more." The other woman immediately left as Annie turned to stub her cigarette out on the once perfectly clean wall. Snatching up her bag, she then headed for the door but not without turning back to face the other woman one last time. "You remember what Annie told ya, gel. Ain't no man worth the trouble and heartache I see in those eyes of yers. A woman's ten times stronger than a man, an' the only thing we really need 'em for is survival of the species, an' even that won't be going on much longer." She chuckled softly, winked at the woman, and then left.
She sighed as she headed out of hiding, as well. {She's right except for one thing, and that one is that he is worth everything and anything,} she thought as she slipped back out into the restaurant. She knew even before she reached the table that he still had not arrived.
At ten o'clock, the maitre d' approached the young woman for the third time that night. "Madam, obviously, whomever it is that you're waiting for is not going to show."
"He made the reservations, didn't he?!" she snapped irritably.
The maitre d' nodded his agreement to that fact but continued nonetheless. "That he did, madam, but that was at 7 o'clock, and it is now three hours since then. We..."
She cut him off before he could go any further with an angry glare from piercing brown eyes. "Don't tell me you need the tables. There are only a few other customers here!"
The maitre d' sighed. "Si, I suppose you're right, but still I must insist that you order something..."
"Fine. Bring me a Coke."
"But... Surely..."
"I said... *Bring me a Coke*!" she repeated, determined to wait for him before eating despite her stomach's protests.
"As you wish, madam." With a sigh, he walked away to fulfill her order.
By the time 11 o'clock arrived, she was already on her fifth Coke, but the caffeine was not improving her mood in the slightest and only served as a safe method of drowning her sorrows and frustrations. She saw him approaching before he even neared her table and knew what he had in mind. He may have excited most other women. She had even seen some of the others staring at him although he did not seem aware of them in the least. He reached her table and ran a quick hand through his thick, brown hair that appeared to be like satin, obviously meant to turn her on. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off before he could even get one word out. "Go away."
Before she could stop him, he took the chair meant for her beloved. "But, baby, I've been watching you all night, and I know you're lonely."
She reached instinctively for her Coke and leaned toward him, bringing it nearer to him as well. She could see the excitement that lit up his soft, blue eyes. "Maybe I am," she started, "but not for you." She then promptly tilted her glass upside down, quickly pouring the remnants of her iced Coke on his pants.
The man shot up, angry exclamations escaping his lips to which she did not pay even the slightest attention. The maitre d' flew over to their side. "What is going on here?!" he demanded, clearly angry.
"That bitch just soaked my pants!" the man roared.
"You shouldn't have tried to come on to me."
The maitre d' rolled his eyes at first, but then, much to the lady's surprise, focused his attention solely on the man. "This is not a bar, Sir. Leave!"
The woman ignored the going-ons between the maitre d' and the stranger as he was forced to leave, arguing all the while, and instead took some napkins from the table and slipped around to the chair that sat across from hers. Kneeling by its side, she began to quickly wipe up the remaining Coke and ice. By the time the maitre d' had turned to face her, she wordlessly handed him the soaking wet napkins and walked off for the bathroom.
At ten minutes to Midnight, the maitre d' once more returned to the last customer in the fancy restaurant. "Ma'am, we're closing." His voice now, so soft and gentle, was a complete contrast to the way he had been earlier.
She nodded and rose without a word, leaving a few dollars on the table as a tip and slipping into her coat. Silently, she paid her bill and went outside. As the lights inside went out, she remained, hovering right outside the door, her eyes closed as she fought away the tears. She had waited for him for six hours, determinedly forcing herself upon the restaurant's staff even when she knew all too well that it was hopeless, that he wasn't coming this night. She could not explain it, but even as the cold winds whipped around her lone figure, she still waited for him.
She was brought out of her state of immobility by an odd ringing. It took her a moment before she recognized the ringing as her cell phone, but then she quickly dug it out of her purse, flipped it open, and asked, "Hello?"
"Honey, where are you?!" cried the worried voice of her younger sister.
There was a scrabbling sound, and then Prue's voice rang out from somewhere near the phone but not quite on it. "We've been worried sick!"
"What happened?" Phoebe continued. "Leo just that hot, or..."
With a sigh, she spoke before her sisters had a chance to continue. "How should I know?! He didn't even bother to show!"
"Oh, honey!" Prue exclaimed, her heart aching in compassion for her little sister.
"You haven't been waiting for him all this time, have you?" Phoebe asked.
Silence was their answer. "Come home, okay? It's cold out. It's after one in the morning, and you know he's not coming."
"Or do you need one of us to come get you?" Again, Prue, the oldest and always with the concern of a mother.
"I haven't been drinking. I'll be there soon." Before they could say anything more, she hung up the phone.
She finally drug her exhausted body through the doorway of the Manor at 3:30A.M. She stumbled blindly straight up to her bedroom and did not even bother to undress before falling backwards onto the bed. She stared up at the ceiling with tears in her deep, brown eyes. Why did this always have to happen to them? Why couldn't they just be let alone for one night? Was it really that much to ask to be allowed to be alone together for just one night, just one date? A shuddering sigh escaped her lips. She would have been glad to just be able to see him this night, to just be able to be with him for a little while even if he had ended up being called away unexpectedly, but she had not even been granted that simplest of wishes. No, instead, he had not even shown up. She knew not where he was nor what he was doing. She did not even know if he was okay. "Damn You!" she whispered, her eyes full of pain and anguish as she stared upwards. "Why do You always have to take such damned pleasure in tormenting us!?!"
Piper Halliwell cried herself to sleep that night, but Leo Wyatt did appear the next day, just as he always did. He wrapped her in his gentle arms, gave her a soft kiss full of undying love, and reassured her that they would find a way to make their relationship work, that they would be together and happy in this lifetime. In the morrow, Piper would know that they were meant to be together, that they would be together and happy, that they would overcome any and all obstacles that stood in their way, that nothing would keep them from being together, and that everything would be all right for them and their love in the end, but in the mean time, another night of hellish torment that came from being unable to be together as they wanted, longed, deserved, and needed to be had gone by.
The End