It's still there.  Dammit.  It's still there, after all this time, after all these damn years, I still feel it. Everytime my hand accidently grazed his, everytime I would look up and our eyes would meet, everytime he pulled me this way and that, and his body got just a little too close and I could feel his heat.

God, what is wrong with me? You're supposed to get over this, you're supposed to forget, you're supposed to get rid of the barfy feelings and move on.

I thought I had. I mean, I *had*. I know I had. I had come here, and I had hooked up with two hunky demons, who took care of me, and never insulted me, well... if they could help it.   And Doyle and I even went on dates.

Until I discovered the pinhead thing. That was just wierd, one day we were kissing and something tickled and he sneezed and woomph! Suddenly I'm bleeding in about five different places.

I still loved him, but that kind of  ended that.  It's okay though, cause I still love Doyle. I think he thinks we're gonna hook back up, 'cause even around Angel, he kind of acts like I'm still his. I guess I am, not like I've been getting all that much action anyways.

It's a downfall of being so close with two hunky guys. Other guys just get intimidated just like that. They take one look at the glares both Angel and Doyle would give them and off they'd go running, like a bunch of women.  The only guy that refused to ever get intimidated by the undead Beavis and Butthead was Xander.

Course, that could be partly cause he still has developed a very healthy dislike of Angel, and Doyle, kind of knowing our past, has developed a very healthy dislike of HIM.

Confusing much? It's not over. See, once in a while, one of us has to go to Sunnydale to help with the research thing, or one of the Sunnydale group has to come up here to help US out with something, and guess who ALWAYS gets voted to go?  Yeah, little old me.  The non freak.

And it's still there.  I drive over there, and I sit at the table and pretend not to care that Anya's casting me dirty looks and hanging all over Xander, and I pretend not to notice when his hand brushes mine and I get this electric shock that jolts up my arm and through my skin and suddenly I can't breathe and I have to get up and ask Giles for water.

I pretended not to notice when we were raided one day at Giles' house by a group of vamps and Xander threw himself over me instead of Anya, pulling me out of the way, making sure I was safe even as she was screaming bloody murder.

I pretended not to notice the one time we were alone in the car waiting for something from Buffy and he rested his hand on the nape of my neck and just started sliding his fingers through my hair.

And I pretended not to notice when I went to go pick him up at the bar where he works and this guy started to hit on me big time and so he grabbed my hand and didn't let go for about ten minutes.

But I can't keep pretending. It's still there. I can feel it, and I don't know if it's love, or if it's the same old lust that's always been there, but I do know that's it's driving me insane. I can't do it anymore. I can't sit there and pretend not to care that Anya's kissing him and hugging him, and I can still remember what that felt like. Getting kissed by him, feeling his arms slide around me, and seeing that gorgeous smile and those beautiful eyes twinkle at me and his lips are so soft and tender and know just what to do.

I can't keep pretending.

Our ship has sailed. That's the dumb saying, right? The ship has sailed. Everyone knows that Xander and I are over, so why can't I make myself believe it?

I can believe it in LA, when I'm with Doyle or when Angel stops being cryptic boring guy and  gets so un Angel like that pulls me into his lap in a sister like way and squeezes me hard.

Why can't I believe it when I see him? When I'm with him? Why do I think then that I still love him?

Oh, God. I can't keep doing this. I can't see him again and not care.

Cause it's still there. And I can't keep pretending it's not.

She's gotta be the female version of a pimp. Something's happened to my Cordy in LA, something that Doyle and Angel can see and I can't. It's really weird.

See, sometimes one of us Scooby Gangers have to go up to LA to help out the Mod Squad, and ain't no way in HELL Buffy's gonna go. So who gets picked? Me. Zeppo Guy. The one who, because he's not in college and doesn't have anything IMPORTANT to do, like dumb finals and club functions, is expendable.

And man I hate going. I hate going and yet I always say yes. Why? Because it will mean getting away from Anya just a little bit.  Don't get me wrong, I do love Anya, I guess. I mean, I don't think I kind of had a choice in the matter. She just came back and suddenly I was dating her.  I kind of humored her then, cause she had never had a boyfriend, cause I didn't want to turn into a can of worms if she ever got her powers back.  Just for a while, till her infatuation wore off.

Well, for a while turned into six months, then a year, and we're still dating.  Now... it's like  a habit.  But it's not there.

It's there, in LA. It's with Cordy. That's why I go,  cause it'll mean getting to see Cordy. My Cordy.

I know, it's ridiculous, we've been broken up for years now, and we've moved on.  But it's still there. Everytime I see her, in her tight pants and tank tops and wide smile and beautiful hair. Everytime she raises an eyebrow and shrivels someone up with a glare and a comment. I feel it. Everytime she touches me. It's still there.

I go up there and she smiles and hugs me like she's hugging a friend. But that's all. Cause I'm with Anya.

Cause I'm not Angel and I'm not Doyle.  I really hate those guys. They treat her like she's theirs and only theirs. The last time I went up there, the door was open so I bounded in, and I walked in on Angel and her racing around the room, Angel chasing her with some invoice and it ended with her on his lap and him hugging her.

Course, I'm sure it was  innocent, but what the hell? When did Angel chase chicks around the room? Geez, I mean.. yuck.  It HAd to be innocent, cause then her precious Doyle would have a cow.  That guy always has his arm around her, always is touching her hair or her face or kissing her cheek or has a hand on her knee.

And she likes it. She loves them both, I think, they are her family now. And I hate that. Cause I used to think I was her family.

It makes me think that what we had was puppy love, that she's grown out of , and I feel like an idiot because I haven't.

Cause it's still there.  I feel it when I hug her, when I breathe in her scent and I look into her eyes.

I think I still love her. And it kills me, cause I'm not supposed to.   I'm with her, in the same room, and  I just want to touch her, anywhere, just feel her skin.

I want to be the one that chases her around the room and sits her on my lap. I was to nuzzle her neck, and kiss those lips like Doyle used to, and maybe still does.

Ole' Pinhead has more love from her than me.

I'm a bastard, I know, but I can't help it. It's still there.  It'll always be there. And it scares the hell out of me.
 
 

"Oh, come on... just three more miles, and I'll buy you premium."  Cordelia Chase lied sweetly to her rag -a-tag car, staring at the hood pleadingly as she heard the familiar wheeze and chunk of the engine that signalled very soon it was going to give up.  "Come on!" She smacked the steering wheel.    "Didn't you hear about the little engine that could?"

Apparently it hadn't, because the thing just went and died right there. Cordelia managed to veer to the side of the road in time, and for a minute, she just sighed, leaning her head back against the seat.

"Perfect." She muttered.  "Just a perfect end to my perfect day."

Sliding out of the car, she checked her watch and grimaced. What she wouldn't give for her old cell phone right about now. Working for Angel and Doyle had given her a steady income, but it was hardly enough, to pay the rent, give her food and keep her clothed, she had learned to try and do without the little luxuries she had come to think of necessaties.

Sometimes she wondered what the hell she was thinking, working for the pissing contest pair that Angel and Doyle were. Other times she went and thanked her lucky stars that they were there, guiding her, keeping her safe.  She was the most important thing in their lives. She knew that, and it gratified her. At least she was the center of some one's universe.

Course that wasn't gonna help her any three miles from Sunnydale, ten minutes before sunset.  Angel should have lent her his car. Bastard. He took care of that thing like it was a child.  When he had found that dent that Doyle had made, Cordelia was pretty sure Angelus had returned in full force. After that, there was no way he was letter HER touch the car. Like she was a worse driver than a smarky half demon. As if.

Casting a worried gaze at the setting sun, she slid into her car and locked the door, taking her stakes and her mace and her holy water and putting them in the passenger seat.  There was no way she was walking into Sunnyhell at this time, not after the setting sun. She valued her hair a little too much for that.  Hopefully somebody would come along, some one that wasn't a demon.

God, time had a way of changing people. Who would have thought, Cordelia Chase, resident May Queen, stranded three miles outside of her home town because the only car she could afford and was still paying for gave out on her?

She still had her Queen C liscence plate. It was in the office. Doyle had found it when he was rummaging through her boxes when they helped her move to a better place. He had pinned it up on the wall, and tormented her about it every day.

Not she didn't fire anything back, she still had some zingers up her sleeve, perfect for making a semi cute half demon shut up.

Smiling slightly, she crossed her arms and closed her eyes.  She was exhausted, and a whole night of waiting for she had no idea what lay ahead of her.  It wasn't probably a good idea to take a quick nap, but she felt herself drift off anyways.

She was jolted awake by the furious tapping at the window. She screeched, at the figure that loomed in the window,  fumbling with a stake and pointing it with both hands to the figure.

"DON'T!" She screamed. "I'VE GOT A STAKE! And... and... although you can probably kick my ass I'll ... I'll -"

"Cordy!"

She paused in her fearful rant, looking slightly confused at the amused voice. Squinting her eyes, she peered into the dark night. "Oh, my God." She breathed, rolling down the window. "XANDER?!"

Xander Harris smiled down at the woman who's face was changed from fearful panic to geniune relief and  happiness as she opened the car door.

"Hey, Cordy."

Sliding his arms around her, he gave her a tight hug, for a moment hiding his face in her neck, trying to still his heartbeat. She was safe, thank God.

"What? How did you-"

"Well you were supposed to get to Sunnydale about two hours ago. We called Angel, and no one had seen you since you left. You had everyone freakin' out."

Cordelia rolled her eyes.  "Yeah, and no one bother to check over on the side of the road?"

Xander's face drifted into a smile. "Yeah, me."

She gave him a geniune candid grin, and stepping out of his arms, socked him softly once. "And what took you so long, dorkhead?"

"Hey! I didn't find out about you're absence till about twenty minutes ago, when I got off shift. I'm a working man, Cordy."

Cordelia could only roll her eyes at her ex boyfriend. "Well, now that you're here to rescue me, what are you going to do about my car?"

He looked at it, his eyes unreadable for a second. "This doesn't look like your car. This looks like a barfed up version of your car."

Cordelia's smile faltered. Although her friendship with Xander was something she still cherished, however scarecely they talked, he never seemed to let her forget what she had lost.  Sometimes, that included him.

"Well, it's mine alright." She said, giving him a mock glare. "Now do the man thing and fix it."

He rolled his eyes, and then with a twinkling grin, strode to the car, pulling the hood up.

He whistled, grimacing.

"This car's a goner, Cordy."

She groaned, crossing her arms helplessly. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"I'm surprised it hasn't clunked on you before."

"Well, it still liked me just a little bit. "

"Hard to imagine." She smacked him, and he grinned, closing the hood.

"Look, let's just take my car back, the others are waiting, and we really need your help."

She sighed, nodding.

"Not like anyone is going to steal it anyway. "  She muttered, leaning inside her car to gather her bag.

Pausing to gather her breath, she mentally thanked God that she was getting out of the alone thing with Xander. Aloneness meant pretending,and she couldn't take that. Not when it was still there.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"Cordy, stay in the car!"

Her face jerked up. "What?"

"Vampire!" Xander ducked away as the beast barrelled at him. He grunted as it threw him to the ground, Xander wrestling with the taller vampire, holding his own, but still in slight need of assistance.

She heard him cry out in pain, and quickly turned back to the car, her heartbeat racing as she opened the door and fumbled through her weapons that had lain forgotten on the seat.

As he grappled, she finally got a hold of her stake, and running quickly, kicked the vampire off of him with one powerful move, staking him just as quickly the next.

He was still for a minute, surprise in his features as he tried to register just what had happened. She grabbed his hand and helped him up.

"You've gotten good." He breathed, his hands on his knees as he gathered his breath.

She merely grinned. "Yeah, well, working with two creatures of the night will do that to you."

He nodded, smiling, before straightening and inspecting a cut on his chest.

"Oh."  She sucked in her breath as she saw the tear and the sprinkling of blood.  "Oh, let me see that, here, come into the light."

He gave her an antagonist look.  "It's moonlight, it's not gonna do much, Cordy."

She rolled her eyes, grabbing his hand and pulling to the area she percheived was maybe the best light. Quickly she helped him pull his shirt up and off, and her fingers slid across his skin.

"It's just a scratch."

"Yeah." She agreed. "It's not that bad." Her fingers stayed at his chest, and she felt herself shiver.

Self awareness hit her, and casting an embarrassed glance at him, she flushed, noticing the bright eyes before moving back and away from him.

There was a pause, and then, one, small, painful, "Cordy." She closed her eyes, willing herself not to speak.

Silence turned into intense gazes, as her eyes began to drift toward his. Her chest began to heave.  The tension built,  and began to climax.

There was no turning back, she knew, she knew what was happening, she knew what would happen, but she still walked toward him, stopping a foot away.

"It's still there, isn't it?" She whispered.

"What is?" He asked, his throat tight, as if even speaking was causing him unspeakable effort.

She gave him an incredulous look, despite the hunger that invaded her eyes.  "This." She breathed, one hand on his chest.

He sucked in his breath, and for a moment, all he could concentrate on was the feel of her hand on his bare chest.

She stood a foot away, yet she could feel the heat from his body, the feel of him filling her senses so much she was frozen, for fear her knees would buckle and she would sink to the ground.

His hand covered hers, keeping her palm firm up against his skin.  "Cordy." He choked, his eyes intense as he gazed at her.  "I... I.... God...."

She shook her head, feeling her eyes water when she realized exactly what was happening.  This couldn't happen. They were over, they couldn't start this again, not after so long, they couldn't go back.

Yet she didn't stop him when he pulled her toward him, when he slid his arms around her waist and drew her to him, when his finger propped up her chin and his mouth slowly came over hers, stopping just a few millimeters away.

No. She did much worse. She closed her eyes and moved her head up and she kissed him first.

The kiss was slow, lingering, and she sighed as she slid her arms up his chest, in an attempt to get closer. She felt his chest muscles quiver against her, and he groaned, pulling her tighter, pressing her more firmly against him as his tongue invaded her mouth.

Now it was her turn to moan, as the kiss intensified, and his hands began to explore, and she began to feel the emotions flood her again. What had made her lose her mind back in high school, what had eventually forced her to lose everything, to give it all up, what in the end had caused her the biggest heartache she had ever experienced, the lowest point in her life, was in that kiss. And she wanted more.

Her eyes began to flood with tears, and slowly they slid down her cheeks, staining his own.  The moisture forced them to still, and they couldn't move away, not yet. They're lips stayed pressed together for one long minute, because they finally pulled away, aware that in her tears, reality had followed.

"We can't do this." She murmured, wiping them away.

He gazed at her, his heart full, one knuckle collecting what she had left behind.  "I know." He said, his voice husky.

The look in his eyes made her turn away, pull out his arms.  "We're supposed to be over, you know."  Her joking tone was shaky.

"I know."

Hugging herself, she stood in the moonlight, her face up to take in what little there was.  "It's still there, Xander."

He dug his hands in his pockets, in an attempt to keep from going to her, from kissing her again. "Yeah."

"So what are we going to do?"

He looked at his, his voice tremoring. "What do you want to do?"

She gave him a sad smile. "What can we do?  Anya will throw you into the next milennium castrated. And me... I think I've got two too many demons in my life right now."

Xander swallowed. "Yeah. But it's still there."

She nodded.  "Yeah, it is."

"I think it's always gonna be there."

She closed her eyes, her arms tightening around her. "Uh-huh."

That was all that could be said.  She didn't know how long they stood there, ten feet apart, staring at the moon, waiting for anything that would give them an answer as to what to do next.

Finally, he merely sighed, "I love you."

She stilled, her eyes resting on his for one long second. "I love you, too."

The words left her mouth, and the roar of  a car engine carried it with it.  A volvo pulled up, and Giles and Buffy piled out, speaking at the same time,  about how worried they were, if she was okay, what had taken them so long.

The answers were mechanical, but they didn't notice, so caught up in the end of the world carnival that was happening.

Cordelia was silent as she listened to the chatter, her jaw tight, her head against the seat.  She was intensely aware of Xander's thigh against hers, everytime he shifted, she felt a tremor go through her.

But she didn't look at him, didn't move, she pretended not to care, just like she always did.  Even if it was still there, there was nothing that she could do. Their ship had sailed, and they had to live with that.

Even if it was still there. Even if it was always gonna be there.