Author’s Notes: Short POV tale set post season four. Light spoilage for Doppelganger and The Wish, but nothing big. Don’t ask where this came from. All I’ll tell you is I was without internet for almost a week, and almost lost my fragile little mind.

The Face that’s Not In the Mirror

By Cobalite Ice

When we met, I almost didn’t recognize myself in her. I mean, from watching the looks Spike used to give Angelus, I figured most vampires swung like that.

Now, it’s two am, and I’m at Tara’s apartment. She’s sound asleep, but I can’t join her, not yet. I’m sitting at her vanity, but not really seeing myself.

I’m seeing her, hearing her voice, asking me, "Wanna be bad?" If she’s still alive, even if she’s not, I wonder if she’s watching me, laughing.

I’m sitting in front of my girlfriend’s mirror, staring at the reflection that doesn’t exist, and hasn’t for years, wondering if I’m going insane. You see, sometimes, I see the face that’s not in the mirror, and it becomes crystal clear, that I’m her, and she’s me.