But you went away
How dare you?
I miss you
They say I'll be ok
But I'm not going to
Ever get
Over you.
-"Over You", Miranda Lambert

···

Washington, DC, December 1997

"We're not going to get another chance like this, Sharon," he said softly, and she couldn't help but hate herself for how defeated he sounded. Her hand drifted down to her belly, resting there as she tried to hold her tears back, to find a way to answer him somehow.

How could she let things get this bad?

"We could fix this, Sharon. We could get out of this hell hole, get you away from that fucking job," he never swore, not her Jack, who was always so kind, so good, "and we could be happy again. I don't know why you…" his voice trailed off; he'd known for three weeks and he still couldn't say the words out loud. How could she have done this to him? "I don't know why you did what you did," he finally said, not looking her in the eye, "but we could take the kids and we could start over. You and me. Like we were before."

Before. That was how they would reckon the time now. The time before Sharon cheated on Jack, and the time after. The time before Sharon shit all over everything they'd built, and the time after they tried to put themselves back together. She thought of the two little boys sleeping peacefully down the hall, completely unaware of the storm brewing in their parents' bedroom, and the little one growing in her belly, the one who would never know what things had been like before.

She sat down next to Jack on the bed, taking one of his hands in her own. His hands, so much larger than hers, the skin toughened from years of hard work, crisscrossed with a dozen tiny scars. She knew the story behind them all, had kissed each of them, one by one, had sat down at the kitchen table and cleaned him up and admonished him for not being more careful. She loved his hands.

"I'll go anywhere with you, baby," she said softly, and she meant the words more than anything she'd said to him in the last six months. "I love you," how she wished her voice wasn't shaking when she said those words, "And I want us to fix this. I want our family to be ok again." She didn't apologize for what she'd done. She couldn't. As much heartache as it had caused her and the people in her life, as disastrous as it had been, she couldn't say she was sorry. She couldn't say she regretted a moment of the time she's spent with her golden-haired lover.

Jack rested his forehead against hers, turning his hand over to wrap around her fingers, pulling her close.

"I'll leave tomorrow," she said. "I'll leave tonight. I'll go whenever you want, Jack, but please, please let me say good-bye."

Jack pulled himself away, and she could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was trying not to scream at her. She couldn't blame him, not really; if the roles were reversed she would have slapped him by now but Jack was not the sort of man who would ever raise his hand to his wife. He rarely even raised his voice. Instead he stared determinedly at the wall, waiting for her to finish, the vein in his neck clearly visible as he tried not to rage.

"I know I've hurt you," she said, and he snorted at the understatement, "But I've hurt her, too. Let me tell her I'm leaving. Let me put this behind us."

He didn't answer her for a long time as he thought over her request and Sharon worried her lower lip between her teeth. Was it too much? Had she gone too far? Perhaps it hadn't been the wisest course of action, asking her husband for permission to say good-bye to her lover. She simply couldn't stomach lying to him anymore, and she couldn't imagine not going to Brenda Leigh one last time. She waited for the other shoe to drop, for Jack to say that he'd changed his mind, that he was going to Los Angeles without her. When he finally spoke, it was without the disgust she'd expected from him.

"You really care about her, don't you?" he asked softly, and before she could stop herself, Sharon felt one last lie slip past her lips.

"No," she said, "Not the way I care about you. She doesn't mean anything to me, but she doesn't deserve to be treated like shit because I made a bad decision."

"It was her decision, too," Jack pointed out. He hadn't blamed Brenda, exactly; he'd known it was his wife's choice to cheat, but Brenda had been willing to be the person Sharon cheated with, and that made him doubt her character. He turned his head to kiss his wife on the cheek before he stood up.

"You're right. You should tell her you're leaving. It's ok if you don't come back tonight," he added, eyes focused on the floor, and Sharon felt that all too familiar wrenching in her heart. How could she have done this to him?

"I'll be here when you wake up," she said as she rose, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Every morning from now on. I promise." She leaned in to kiss him, and he met her halfway, the way he always did.

···

Outside Brenda's apartment building and for the first time ever Sharon actually had a decent parking space. She went over the speech in her head for the fourteenth time, making sure she had all the words she needed to say. She needed to explain to Brenda why they hadn't spoken in the last three weeks, why Brenda was never going to see her again, why she hadn't been able to apologize to Jack, why she wasn't able to leave him, why she'd been so sick lately. She'd known she was pregnant that first morning, when she'd vaulted out of Brenda Leigh's bed to empty her stomach in the toilet, and then promptly found herself craving pickles as soon as she was done. This pregnancy felt exactly like the two that had come before it, except for the fear that had taken up root in her heart. She was so afraid, afraid that she wouldn't be able to fix her marriage, that she wouldn't be able to look at this child without thinking of Brenda Leigh, and what she'd done to Jack. It was obviously Jack's baby, as much as her other sons were, but she'd been fucking Brenda Leigh, too, and she couldn't help but think this child would always stand as a reminder of her mistakes.

She shook her head and sighed, trying to clear the thoughts away as she clambered out of her car and made contact with the sidewalk. She would go to Brenda. She would tell her that she was leaving, she would turn around, and she would go home. She would fall asleep next to her husband, and she would not dream of slender hands and dark brown eyes. She would be happy.

Even if it killed her, she would be happy without Brenda Leigh Johnson.

Sharon made her way up the front door of the building, pressing the buzzer next to Brenda's apartment number and waiting to hear that familiar southern drawl come through the speaker. When it did finally come, Sharon nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Hello?"

Sharon's finger actually shook as she reached out and pressed the intercom button, her voice sounding unnaturally high as she responded, "Brenda, it's me."

There was a long silence, and Sharon shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, wondering if maybe Brenda had had enough. Three weeks was a long time to avoid someone, and Brenda Leigh wasn't an idiot. She had to know that Sharon had specifically requested they not work together anymore.

Finally the door buzzed as it unlocked. Brenda was inviting Sharon up, giving her another chance.

Sharon fought down a wave of nausea and made her way up the familiar flight of stairs, heading for the second floor and whatever awaited her inside Brenda's home.

The door opened before Sharon had the chance to knock, Brenda Leigh standing on the other side of it in nothing but an oversized white t-shirt, looking sleepy and utterly adorable, and Sharon's words failed her. Brenda was so lovely, so young and vibrant, so full of promise, and Sharon felt that she didn't deserve to stand in Brenda's light.

"I didn't think you were gonna come by anymore," Brenda said, leaning against the door frame, not letting Sharon past her. "I don't know why," she continued, watching Sharon the way she watched a terrorist or a snitch, looking for an in, for a confession. "Since you decided to just stop speaking to me altogether-"

Sharon cut her off, closing the space between them and silencing Brenda Leigh with her lips and tongue. The little blonde gave up without a fight, wrapping her arms tightly around Sharon's neck, tangling her fingers in short, auburn hair and dragging Sharon inside.

This was not the plan, Sharon! she admonished herself silently, but she couldn't stop kissing Brenda, couldn't pull herself away. She knew she would leave after this, that she would actually never see Brenda again, that this was her last chance. She tried to pour everything into this kiss, all the things she felt for Brenda, all the times she'd wanted to kiss her before and hadn't, all the times she'd want to kiss her in the future and wouldn't be able to. She kissed Brenda like she'd never kissed anyone before, and like she never would again.

"Please don't go away again," Brenda whispered against her lips, hands splaying possessively across Sharon's hips, and Sharon couldn't answer her, couldn't lie but also couldn't bring herself to break Brenda's heart right now.

So she didn't speak. She simply hummed and pressed every inch of herself against Brenda, hoping to forget, for however brief a time, just how badly she had fucked this up.

Brenda whimpered under the combined assault of Sharon's tongue and her hands slipping up underneath that too-big shirt, finding bare breasts and taking hold of them, as though Brenda's flesh were the only thing keeping Sharon's feet on the ground.

"Please," Brenda whispered and Sharon trembled, remembering her own voice saying that word less than an hour before, begging her husband for the chance to do this one more time before she left.

Sharon couldn't speak; she simply took Brenda by the hand and they walked side-by-side, silently, towards Brenda's bedroom. There was a feeling of anxious tension in the air, as though Brenda could sense what Sharon was trying to do, and the little blonde's slender fingers gripped Sharon's hand almost painfully tight. She's going to have to let go eventually, Sharon thought, and the very idea of it brought tears to her eyes. She struggled to hold them back, determined to focus on fucking Brenda and nothing else tonight. She would not think of the time they'd spent together. She would not think of how Brenda had saved her life during that hellacious mission to Afghanistan. She would not think of the afternoon coffee dates in St. Petersburg. She would not think of the late dinners and the early breakfasts and the thousands of hours spent in close proximity. She would not think of how she had depended on this woman for everything for the last three years. She would think only of the sex, and when that was done she would think only of her husband and she would leave. She wasn't sure she could live with herself any other way.

Brenda threw herself down on the bed, hands reaching for Sharon's hips and pulling the older woman down on top of her. Ordinarily Sharon would have grinned and called her cheeky, but she couldn't take the time to stop now. She couldn't laugh at how adorable Brenda was, couldn't kiss the tip of her nose and cuddle and talk about nothing all night long. She needed this to be fast, and she needed to get out of here.

The t-shirt came off without a struggle and Sharon stood up quickly, shucking her clothes with lightning speed. She wanted to be naked, she wanted to feel Brenda's skin against her, the warmth of that body beneath her own, but she couldn't let Brenda undress her, couldn't watch the tenderness play out across her lover's face. She felt like screaming, she felt like crying, she felt like she was coming apart at the seams.

Los Angeles.

LA was the other side of the country. LA was a huge city, bigger than DC, full of people Sharon didn't know. LA was a place where Jack had a chance to work with a surveying company that would keep him in an office building instead of outside. LA was a place where Sharon had an offer to work with LAPD's Internal Affairs division, an offer that they had agreed to extend so she could take her maternity leave. LA was a place where Jack and Sharon could fix themselves, and a place where Sharon would die, bit by bit, as she sacrificed herself for the people she loved. Sharon loved working with the CIA, loved the danger and the feeling of accomplishment and Brenda Leigh…

Jesus, she loved Brenda Leigh.

She couldn't keep thinking like this. As soon as she was naked she launched herself at Brenda, mouth taking up residence on the little blonde's pulse point, sucking hard.

"Be careful, Sharon," Brenda gasped, her hands dancing down Sharon's spine, lighting up the auburn-haired beauty draped across her. "Don't leave a mark," she said, but it was too late. Sharon's lips and teeth were scoring Brenda's skin, leaving a sizeable hickey that Brenda would have a hard time covering up at work tomorrow. And Sharon wouldn't be there to smirk when people stared as Brenda walked past. Brenda's hands drifted down to Sharon's ass, giving the firm flesh there a none-too-gentle squeeze in retaliation and this only spurred Sharon on.

Not wasting any time, Sharon slipped her tongue into Brenda's mouth and sent her hands traveling down Brenda's body, one fingernail tracing a teasing circle around Brenda's nipple while the other hand searched through springy curls for the hard nub of Brenda's clit, fingers playing in the wetness gathering at Brenda's center.

"Slow down," Brenda murmured against Sharon's neck, trying to control the other woman's movements, but Sharon was having none of it. She felt nearly frantic, desperately trying to get through this so she could outside and cry in her car before she drove home to her husband and her children and the rest of her life without Brenda Leigh. Somewhere between the front door and Brenda's bed Sharon had decided not to tell the little blonde that she was going away. She had the feeling that Brenda knew that already.

Sharon captured Brenda's hands in her own, pinning them to the mattress by the blonde's head, fitting her body carefully over Brenda's so that their breasts pressed together, the heat of their centers mingling into a single passion that left them both gasping, writhing against each other.

"Please," Brenda said, her voice sounding almost harsh in its breathlessness, "Wanna touch you, baby. Wanna see you."

Sharon wouldn't give in, however. She ground down against Brenda until they were moaning into each other's mouths, and then coming together, wave after wave of sensation breaking down the walls Sharon had tried to throw up until she was collapsed against Brenda, shaking and crying silent, salty tears into Brenda's neck.

"I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly, and Brenda just ran a smoothing hand over her hair, wrapping her up in a tight embrace, pulling the covers up and over the both of them.

"Go to sleep now," Brenda said, holding Sharon's body next to her own, and Sharon drifted off, peaceful, if only for the moment.

···

Sharon held herself perfectly still, cradling the sleeping body of her lover close, determined not to wake the little blonde in her arms, and equally determined not to cry. It was for the best, she had decided, and she was going to have to live with the consequences of her choices.

This wasn't how she had planned for this night to end; she should be at home, in bed with her husband, and yet she wasn't. Jack was probably furious. He might forgive her one last time, especially considering she had agreed to the move. She might have ended up in Brenda Leigh's bed yet again, but she had chosen to follow him to Los Angeles, and not to tell Brenda Leigh.

Sharon sighed gently and leaned forward, dropping a kiss on the smooth skin of Brenda's shoulder. It was harder than she had expected, saying good-bye, and she'd made it that much harder by not telling Brenda that that was what she was doing. She'd come over here tonight full of noble intentions, prepared for tears and even anger from her tempestuous lover, but she had found herself unable to speak the words. Brenda had been lovely, as always. Brenda had long ago stopped trying to charm Sharon, and in the process had become even more attractive to the brunette. However brief their time together might have been, she had seen the real Brenda Leigh, and she would treasure those memories.

She steeled herself and slipped soundlessly from the bed, placing a fortifying hand on her roiling stomach. This was something else she had not told Brenda Leigh, another secret she was carrying with her to the other side of the country. She was overcome with doubt; she had loved her husband once and a part of her loved him still, but the cross-country move and the new baby churning in her belly did not hold the promise of bringing them back together.

She pulled her clothes on quietly, eyes locked on the shock of yellow hair falling across the pillow. Sharon did not humor herself with thoughts of how devastated Brenda Leigh would be when she discovered that Sharon was gone. Brenda would be angry, probably, and put out like a small child who has lost their favorite toy, but she was resilient. She would find a new plaything, and Sharon would be thousands of miles away, caring for her husband and her two- now three- children. Sharon would do the right thing and try her damndest to forget her time with this woman, pulling the memories out every once in a while like a favorite book, replaying them in her mind with a sad smile on her face and putting them back on the shelf when she was done.

Brenda stirred slightly, rolling onto her back and reaching out with a slender arm to find the body that was no longer there beside her. Sharon took her leave then, slipping silently through the bedroom door before Brenda's eyes opened.

She reached the front door of the little apartment, her hand on the knob when she heard that familiar drawl calling softly, "Sharon?"

For a moment she almost turned around, almost ran back to Brenda's arms. She could throw herself down on the bed and weep and Brenda would smooth her hair and talk her into staying. She took a shuddering breath and opened the door, disappearing out into the night, tears streaming down her face.

···

"Sharon?" Brenda called again, but she knew her lover was gone. The bed was still warm from where Sharon had been lying next to her, and Brenda rolled over into that warmth, dragging the blanket up to her chin, covering her nakedness from the pre-dawn darkness. She couldn't shake the feeling that Sharon had left her, really, truly left her, not just for the night but for the rest of her life, and she felt the prick of tears. Sharon had cried that night, and Brenda had held her close and comforted her. Brenda was offered no such comfort now. She was alone in a bed that suddenly seemed much too big, much too empty.

What would she possibly do without Sharon? The last three weeks had been hard enough, working without Sharon but with the knowledge that the auburn haired woman was just down the hallway. Brenda wasn't sure why she hadn't gone to Sharon herself; she could have apologized, could have fixed this. Maybe if Brenda hadn't left Sharon alone this never would have happened. Maybe Sharon had left because she thought Brenda didn't love her.

And damn it all to hell, but Brenda loved her.

For one crazy moment Brenda thought about jumping in her car and chasing after Sharon, showing up at her house and throwing herself at Sharon's feet, proclaiming her love and devotion and begging Sharon to come back here. Except that Sharon's house also meant Sharon's husband and Sharon's two sons, and the men in Sharon's life were so much easier to ignore when Brenda didn't know what they looked like. Sharon had never shown her pictures, had never even told Brenda her sons' names. That life was kept completely separate, but then they worked at the CIA. Everyone there lived double lives. This compartmentalization had come to them as easy as breathing.

Except now Sharon was gone. Why? What had changed? Brenda's mind raced, going over the events of the night before, searching for something, anything to tell her why, but she just kept coming up empty.

The darkness felt heavy as a stone on Brenda's chest. She couldn't call Sharon, couldn't run to her house. Couldn't do anything but wait for the dawn, drive into work and stand outside Sharon's office until she came in.

Except there was this nagging voice in the back of her mind that told her no matter how long she waited in Sharon's office, she was never going to see her lover again.