I was in your arms
thinking I belonged there
thinking it made sense
building me a fence
building me a home
thinking I'd be strong there
but what can I say
rules must be obeyed.
The Game is on again
a lover or a friend
a big thing or a small
the winner takes it all
the winner takes it all.
--The Winner Takes It All by Abba, from Mamma Mia

She was here. It was just a few hours ago that she was mine, in my arms. It was just a few hours that I could pretend that when she said my name, she meant it. That when she kissed me, she did it on purpose, because she wanted to. Not because of a curse, not because of possesion, but because she loves me. Really loves me. She...

Okay, so she does love me. So what? She's my best friend, the person I'm closest to, the person who knows me the best. We trust each other. I know I can tell her anything, she knows she doesn't have to pretend. It's a relationship that works. It's also not a relationship I'm willing to risk losing.

I don't know exactly when it was my feelings for her went past platonic. She's a very beautiful woman. Sure, I guess I've occasionally thought about..something else, but it just never came up. And, what with Buffy dying and everything, I needed all the friends I could get.

I guess the first time I really noticed something was different was when she was lying in a coma. I'd just lost and then found Buffy; my emotions were stretched to breaking already. Seeing her lying there, looking so deceptively fragile, so innocent, I was amazed to bring a hand to my face and find it wet. I was crying.

I don't cry. Ever. The last time I cried was when I came back from Hell. I've always been more of the strong and silent type I guess, a fact which annoys Cordy to no end. But seeing her there, so close to death because of me, because she'd kept the visions to help me, because she believed in me, made me sick. I would've cut out my soul and given it to her if I could have. I didn't have to, but I would have. That really scared me.

I think I love her. The thought fills me with dread, mostly for her. My love has a way of ruining people's lives. She can never know, not ever. I will watch her and Groo, and not say a word. I will....But for now, my jacket still smells like her. I don't think I'll wash it for a while. In fact, I think I may just sleep with it under my pillow tonight. I touch my face. It's wet. Tears seem to go hand in hand with love.


He was here. Only a few hours since I held him in my arms. Only a few hours since he trailed kisses down my collarbone. Only a few hours since he kissed me and healed wounds I thought would always be there. Only a few hours since he touched me and said he loved me. Only a few hours since we almost made love and he almost lost his soul. Funny, isn't it?

My boss is very handsome. All dark and broody and strong. He looks at you with those deep, hooded eyes, and you-or at least, I- melt into putty. I swear I would never fall again. I swore it. But somehow, without me realizing it, he squeezed past my defenses, past the barriers I've erected around my soul, and touched it. He kissed it, and it shattered.

I don't pretend to know why the powers that be thought I would make a good seer. I'm no one special. I put up with the headaches and all because I want Angel to Shansu, and I'm not Buffy. I can't be there fighting alongside him and not get killed, so I do this. It's all I can do, and it makes me special.

If I could go back and change everything, would I? Yeah. I would have been less of a bitch to everyone. I would have made more of an effort to get to know people. I would have....Oh, what's the point? I'd still be here, now, about to lose my best friend.

Groo rolls over and moans in his sleep, and my arms tighten around him. He's here, real and whole, in my arms. He loves me. He wants me. The least I can do is be grateful.

Angel loves me. I know that. We're best friends, and he loves me accordingly. But Buffy is his soul mate, his one true love, his one and only. God, I'm so sick of hearing her name!