Disclaimer: I do not own the character from BtVS. Also... Most of the bartender's words are lyrics from the song, She Only Smokes When She Drinks by Joe Nichols: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/j/joenicholslyrics/sheonlysmokeswhenshedrinkslyrics.html
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: BA centric
AN: This is for those that need a sob warning. Tissues are most likely needed! It is angsty and very sad.

The bartender watched the foolish man walk up to the blonde sitting at the far end of his bar. She was nursing her drink, a sad look in her eyes, as she absently fingered the pack of cigarettes before her. The man was smooth flicking open his lighter with a practiced run of his thumb and the blonde looked up taking her first notice of the man.

He shook his head, running the rag down the counter, wiping up the circles of condensation from mugs and beer bottles. The night was winding down, the happy hour long over, but still far from closing time. He knew the woman down the bar, she always ordered ice tea and danced alone. Although sometimes she skipped ice tea in favor of something stronger, but she still danced alone.

Mr. Smooth was standing there tapping on the bar patiently as the blonde stood with her purse and made a beeline for the bathroom. Typical, he thought idly before sauntering over to the waiting gentleman. He was facing away from the businessman-- towards the bottles of liquor-- when he said conversationally, "So you lit her cigarette."

"Yeah," the man replied, his eyes hungrily watching the ladies room.

The bartender didn't let it drop and continued knowingly-- he'd seen this before-- "You're feelin' pretty good. You think you've got a shot, most girls you probably would, yeah this is that kind of place."

He made a motion to where the man's hand was resting, forcing Mr. Smooth to take a step back. The fellow was too slick, she'd never want to get involved with a man like him. It wasn't hard to notice that hungry rapt predator within those hazel eyes, and he warned, "But she ain't that kind of girl."

"I think she is. Bring me a double shot of whiskey."

The liquid was a dark amber as he poured in four fingers worth, shaking his head the whole time. "You're readin' it all wrong, let me tell you about her…" he invited.

The seemed to get the man's attention. It was obvious Mr. Smooth wanted a chance with the blonde, one of course he was never going to get. A small smirk joined his lips as he passed the shot across the bar. "She only smokes when she drinks; she only drinks now and then. Now and then when she's tired, of bein' let down by men."

Mr. Smooth watched him pick up the nearly drained glass that she had been nursing tonight-- the rare time when she drank-- it was her thirty-fifth birthday tonight. She was sad, so she drank. Never very much, and then only one shot or glass, but tonight she'd had more then she ever did. The blonde's eyes were lonely and depressed, but he never asked, she never said, and they both left it at that.

"By men?"

He'd forgotten about Mr. Smooth, and with a glance he noticed her returning from the ladies room. With a shrug he told the guy, "You can give her a light, but it's not what you think. Everybody knows she only drinks alone, and she only smokes when she drinks."

He left them alone, he knew the show now as he walked down to the dark haired stranger on the other side of his bar. His dark brown eyes watched the duo in the corner, before turning to him with a look. Again he shrugged, who was he to interfere. Looking at the man, he gave nothing away when he asked with cheerfulness, "What can I get you mate?"

"Whatever she was drinking."

"Ahh, you too huh?" he asked with a raised brow before grabbing a bottle of alcohol. He mixed the coke and Kahlua before passing it to the brooding gentleman sitting in the shadowy section of bar.

From the corner of his eye he watched the blonde stub out her cigarette and pick up her purse. The man tried to detain her and she only shook her head, sidestepping him as she walked towards the exit. He didn't ask her to pay the tab; he'd see her again. If not tomorrow night, then the night after that for she showed up here a lot. Always alone; leaving the same way.

"Did you ask her to dance?" He inquired to the scowling smooth talker slouching in the stool. "Let me guess," he continued not waiting for an answer, "She told you no."

"You were right about her."

"Of course I was," he said happily. She hadn't fallen for his deceptive charm. "Got to take her some place quiet, and see how far that goes. Oh! Don't take it all that hard, when she smiles and turns you down."

"Why the hell not?"

He gave an enigmic smile. "For a complicated girl, she ain't that hard to figure out…"

He turned away from the grumpy man back to the other hopeful candidate for the blonde's good graces. He sighed finding the stool empty. Damn, that was just his luck. But then he noticed a fifty underneath the glass. A napkin clung to the sweat from the glass, but when he pulled it away there was one word.

Thanks.

Tucking the bill away he grinned and began whistling, "She only smokes when she drinks. She only drinks now and then. Now and then when she's tired… of bein' let down by men. You can give her a light, but it's not what you think. Everybody knows she only drinks alone, and she only smokes when she drinks."

*********************************

The brooding man stepped out into the dark to hear the soft sobs of the blonde. He kept to the shadows, watching her sorrow as it spilled down her cheeks-- reddened and raw-- from her moments alone with grief. He made not one sound as he stood there and watched her crumple to the ground, her back pressed against the brick as her chest shuddered in silent sobs.

She was thirty-five today, and it appeared this birthday was bad too.

And still he did not move, he watched her trembling fingers pull out a pack of cigarettes and drop them to the cement. Motionless he took in the fumbling of her fingers to grasp the carton and her several shaky attempts to pull out a stem. He waited as she lit it and took her first drag, the first time in moments since she could take a deep breath without shaking.

Gray smoke drifted from her nose as her blond hair spilled forward covering her face from his view. The shadows cloaked him in silent stillness-- the only thing moving was her-- allowing him to stay undetected. She drew deep on the cigarette, her body calming to the nicotine that invaded her blood. He watched her compose herself before standing up.

She ground the butt out with her toe, then readjusted the strap on her shoulder, and walked down the street. Her golden hair remained loose, her steps concise as she walked down the ally. This time he stayed further back, not to be prey to her senses, not now when she was focused. There was a deadly gleam in her eyes, her shoulders were held up in pride, but even he could feel how her heart ached.

His ached along with hers, but there was nothing he could do to stop either of their heartaches. Their hearts long ago had been broken, their tears long ago shed; tonight she just let out her regrets, that's all those tears meant. Her heart may not have healed, but then again neither had his.

He'd never tell her that it was so… she'd try to demand from him something he had no power to give… she'd demand that he stay… even now it was hard to remain away…

Remembering what the bartender said, he knew she was feeling ungenerous towards men. The grapevine had let stories even reach his ears, so he knew she had plenty of hatred to spare. However something made him think she directed it all towards him, because she never seemed so sad unless she was thinking of him.

A cloud rolled overhead before the sky opened above them. The sky grieved as well, tears dripping from its watchful eyes as rain. Though rain increased both their pains, it lead to some comfort, some sad lost hope.

For he only came when it rained, and only then when he came to try to ease her pain.

He never said hello, and he never said goodbye, as he waited with her for a miracle that would never arrive.

She had stopped on her front porch, her eyes distant in memories. There was a small smile gracing her lips and from her scent he knew she was remembering that night. It had rained then too, and he kissed away that rain, but now he never could… never again.

Her hands rested against the railing, her body sheltered from the cold drops of water that poured the surrounding areas. He was soaked to the skin, frozen underneath a lamplight behind her. Water dripped into his eyes as he watched her turn to face him…

She'd known that he was here… had known all along… and he breathed…

There was no rejoicing in her discovery. She didn't call out his name. She didn't blink or move. She didn't smile. Her heart felt only pain that he too felt through their link. In despair he watched helplessly as her eyes hardened and her mouth tightened.

There was no raging voice in the wind. There was no reprimand from her telling him he was making living harder again. There was no love in her eyes, but he felt the hole in her heart, like he knew she felt the hole in his soul. Fate had ripped them apart because he had let it… and she knew… but neither would ever try to mend it… not anymore.

His tongue darted out to lick his suddenly dry lips as he did the impossible. He took one step forward…

She took one step back…

He stopped, and she fled.

But he never made a move to follow, his courage lost once again.

*********************************

She shut the door with a solid click, leaning heavily against it, trying to breath. Trying desperately to breath.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God. No! Please." She cried, tears falling slowly down once more. It'd been so long since she'd seen him. She had forgotten his face as she could never forget his love.

When was the last time she had seen him? When she was twenty-one? She hung up the purse with prolonged movements, her body straining to hear his footfalls on her steps. Had he finally come back? She wondered wildly.

Her trembling hands went to her hair, trying to smooth out the wretched rain soaked locks to no avail. Her heart thumped wildly in anticipation, even as her mind tried to warn her to be weary. She had been too lonely for too long, her brief scare turning into a miraculous hope that she had thought long lost.

The first time she ever drank alcohol had been in freshman year of college when she was nineteen. She tried to drown him in the liquor; just to stop hearing his voice in her head, acting occasionally as her lover, sometimes as her friend, but mostly to stop him from being her conscience. She had learned the evils of beer that night, and took her drink only when he let her down again.

She knew he never stopped loving her, and she never stopped loving him.

But love would never change anything between them.

It never had. It never did. It never would.

Her coat was placed on the rack, her hand trembling slightly over the lock as she waited for his knock. She still felt him outside in the rain. He would need to come in soon to dry off. They would need to talk. It was time that they did, it was seventeen years past due. God he still looked gorgeous as ever, she thought, her stomach quivering slightly.

The minutes rolled by on the ticking clock in the hall. The seconds had long ago been lost count of, and finally she felt him leave. The footfalls lost in the rain, the goodbye once again not said. In agony, she blindly turned away from the door, stumbling quickly into the den before she collapsed on the floor.

They had been so close, she thought wildly, throwing open the cabinet doors with a loud bang. The noise startled her for a moment, but then her hand reached out determinately for the gin. The memories swamped her, but the booze hit her tongue with the same determination as the past did. She swallowed thickly through her gathering tears, and knew that even now this wasn't the end…

Just one more step towards it.

She was going to remain alone, just as she always had.

He would try to come back, only to take himself away.

He was temptation, and she was his, but that temptation got in the way.

Her mind buzzed under the heavy induced alcohol binge. The bottle was almost empty, she wished it was like her head. She wanted to be empty too, to stop feeling the damn pain. To stop it from beating her chest with such accurate aim… she wanted to die… but not in a good way.

*********************************

She only smokes when she drinks… She only drinks now and then… Now and then when she's tired of bein' let down by men… You can give her a light… But it's not what you think… Everybody knows she only drinks alone… And she only smokes when she drinks …

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