Title: Dancing in the Dark

Author: Alan Hitchen

Email: darkmere2000@yahoo.co.uk

Archive: http://www.realmoftheshadow.com/alan.htm

Disclaimer: BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, TCF and others.

Pairings: Tara, Buffy, Dawn (Friendship, but W/T, D/T, B/T and B/D are mentioned or implied.)

Rating: PG-13 (Warning: Buffy/Dawn is implied)

Note: This is a post-S6 AU in which Willow died instead of Tara.

Summary: Dawn reveals her long-hidden feelings, but things are more complicated than she thinks.

Before competition from the new multiplex closed it down it used to be the Sun Cinema on Main. Now it's the Rainbow Room, the gay equivalent to the Bronze. It's taken her ages, but Dawn has finally managed to get Tara to cross its multi-coloured portals and into the club itself.

Unfortunately it's Dawn who now has a miniature phone directory clutched in her sweaty palm while Tara clings to the wall like ivy. This is not what she intended at all.

"Tara," Dawn complained loudly over the insistent beat of the music, "I brought you here to have a good time, not hide in a corner with a drink that you haven't touched since I bought it."

Tara looked up from her full glass and replied with her usual shy smile. "Sorry, sweetie, but I did tell you it was too soon."

"Too soon?!" Dawn scoffed, plonking herself down and spilling her own very expensive non-alcoholic concoction as she did so. "Tara, it's been nearly five years. I don't expect you to walk off with the first woman you meet, but you could at least make an effort and say "Hi" to one or two of them." She threw her collection of scribbled phone numbers onto the table. "Look what I've got, and I'm not even looking for a date tonight."

"Neither am I," Tara said quietly, staring off into the middle distance to avoid Dawn's piercing grey eyes.

The younger girl sighed in defeat. "Then you could at least dance with me... Please," Dawn entreated, holding out her hand towards the dark-blonde wiccan.

Tara looked back, and nodding her agreement took the offered hand and followed Dawn onto the dancefloor. Truth to tell, despite her apparent reluctance Tara liked dancing with Dawn. The fast numbers were exciting and she could lose herself in the moment, but the slow numbers were ecstacy. Then she could hold Dawn close and close her eyes; she could pretend she was dancing with her beloved once again.

"Oh, Willow," she sighed into Dawn's ear.

Dawn suddenly sobbed, "I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore," and pulled away from her partner. Tara opened her eyes just in time to see Dawn storming off back to the table. She quickly followed and sat down across from the weeping brunette.

"What's wrong, Dawn?"

"Me. That's what's wrong. Me. I had thought... but, no. I'm so, so stupid."

"No. No. You're not stupid. Tell me."

Dawn looked up and fixed Tara with a quizzical look. "Have you ever wondered why none of my recent girlfriends have lasted longer than two minutes with me?"

Tara didn't know exactly but ventured a guess. "They weren't right for you?"

"No, they just weren't you!" Dawn snapped back angrily. "I've been waiting. Waiting for you to get over Willow. Waiting for you to start dating again. Waiting for you to notice me. Waiting for so long. But I can't wait any longer. I love you, Tara. I love you."

Tara suddenly looked very sad as the meaning of Dawn's words sank in. "And I love Willow," she answered simply.

"Oh, what's the use?" said Dawn, burying her head in her hands.

Tara reached out, but Dawn flinched away from the comforting fingers. "Dawn..." she began to say, but was interrupted with a sharp warning.

"If you're going to say you love me like a sister then I'll scream!"

Tara withdrew her hand and just sat waiting for Dawn to calm down, but the younger girl was no longer in the mood for explanations, she just slammed back her drink and stood up.

"I'm going home, you coming?"

Tara nodded and followed Dawn back to the car. She got in and buckled up, waiting for Dawn to drive them back to Revello Drive. But Dawn just sat there, staring out of the windshield into the neon-lit darkess outside. The silence stretched out into infinity until Tara broke it with her soft voice.

"I'm sorry, but you don't know what it is to lose a soulmate," she said in a whisper, almost to herself.

Dawn turned to face Tara, her expression filled with sad understanding. "I know. But I've lost someone too. I loved Kennedy. Not as much as I should've; not as much as she wanted me to. But I did love her. And when she died... well. You know. You were the one who held me while I cried. You were the one who comforted me. You know."

"Yes, I know," Tara replied, a tear falling down each cheek as the memory replayed. "I held you as you held me. But that isn't love, Dawn, it's mutual grief."

"No, it isn't," Dawn insisted. "I loved you before Kennedy. For as long as I've known what love really is I've loved you. I will always love you, no matter what." She reached forward and turned the key. The engine roared into life, underlining her final, anguished statement. "But I'll be leaving in the morning."

...

When Buffy arrived back from patrol she found Tara waiting for her in the kitchen, drinking a cup of hot chocolate as usual.

"Quiet night tonight," she remarked cheerfully, sitting herself down by her friend. "So, how was it for you, have a nice time with Dawn?"

"Dawn said she loved me," Tara reported quietly and without emotion.

Buffy had suspected this for some time now. She assumed Tara's diffidence was simply due to her position as Dawn's parental figure. "And what did you say?" she asked, expecting a positive response.

"That I still love Willow," Tara replied.

Buffy's face fell, this was not good, this was not good at all. "Oh. Tara, don't you think..."

"There's more," Tara interrupted. "She says she's leaving home tomorrow."

"I'll speak to her," Buffy said briskly, confident that she could fix things up between them.

"It's not that I don't love her," Tara went on, "I do. Just not in the way she wants me to... But, she's right, you're right, it's been too long. I need to move on, I need to let go. And I've been thinking." Tara paused.

"Thinking is good," encouraged Buffy, reaching out to take Tara's hand.

Tara suddenly smiled. "I've been thinking of you," she said.

Buffy's surprise was total. "But... but... but... I'm not gay," she averred.

Tara disagreed. "Buffy, can you honestly say a good word for any of your relationships with men? They all failed. And weren't all of them destined to fail? Because, deep down, you wanted them to fail? Because, in your heart of hearts, you don't really want relationships with men?"

"That's not true."

"Isn't it?"

A sudden loud screeching of tyres drew their attention to the front of the house. Buffy went out to investigate. "Dawn's car's gone." She ran upstairs, then came back down just as quickly. "She's taken her overnight bag." A thought struck her. "Do you think she heard us?"

Tara held up the message pad she had found near the door, it had on it just one word - Bitch!

"I think she did."

...

"Go away!"

It hadn't taken Buffy long to track Dawn down to a room at the Sun Spot motel, and now that she had she wasn't going away, no matter what Dawn said. The well-worn lock rattled, groaned, then snapped under the slayer's strong hand.

"Hey, they'll make me pay for that!" Dawn complained in her best 'I've not just been crying' voice.

Buffy ignored her, pulled a chair out of the corner and straddled it, facing Dawn, who was sitting on the bed. "What is it with us?" she asked rhetorically. "We always want to run when relationships hurt us. First mom, then me, now you. But it doesn't work because you can never run from yourself."

Dawn crossed her arms defiantly. "What you really mean is: this is all your fault, Dawn, deal with it. Well, I am dealing - in the only way I know how."

Buffy sighed, her sister could be so stubborn at times. "It's not as bad as you think."

"Isn't it?" Dawn snorted derisively. "I saw her face and the way she looked at you... The way I wanted her to look at me."

"But I don't love Tara," Buffy stated convincingly. "And she doesn't love me. And besides, I'm not gay, so nothing could ever happen between us. Look, I know how you feel about Tara. I have for a long time."

Dawn was surprised. "You never said."

"I thought it best not to, but perhaps I should've. Actually, I think you're right."

"About what?"

"Leaving home. The thing is, Tara sees you as family."

"The younger sister she never had, yadda, yadda, yadda. Yeah, you think I don't know all this?"

"That's why I think you should move out. To give Tara space, time to adjust, to let her see that you're not her family. That you're an attractive, desirable woman in your own right, who loves her very much."

Dawn thought about this, then smiled and leapt off the bed to hug and kiss her sister. "Thanks, Buffy. That's a great plan. You're the best."

Buffy smiled back and stood up. "I'm glad you think so. Now, let's get you out of this flea-pit. Here's some cash. Go pay the man for his crummy lock, I'll get your bag."

As she left the room, Buffy looked on wistfully at Dawn's sexy, lithe figure and perfect ass, and silently cursed the twist of fate that had made them sisters and not lovers. She touched her cheek where Dawn's lips had just been then kissed those same fingers.

"Oh, Dawn, if only you knew. If only I could say," she whispered, picked up the bag, and stepped out into the night.