OKAY, okay, we got it. So the boy sang to her. Big deal.

But see, it was a big deal. She still wasn't over it. Just thinking of it made her all woozy, in a good way. Sort of all tingly and happy inside. Sappy, you know? And Cordelia Chase was hardly a sap.

It's not as if other guys haven't done sweet things for her. There was this one guy, back in sixth grade, or something, Chad? Chad heard her say she was totally craving some mangoes during Lunch, right? So he ditched school and went to the grocer's to get her some mangoes, even though they were out of season. He got caught, he got suspended, but she got her mangoes, and yeah, that was pretty sweet of him, right? And they were pretty good mangoes, too. And then there was Anthony in eighth grade, whom she met when he almost killed her with his skateboard. She was pretty mad, Cordy was, but when he saw how upset she was - rightfully so, cause Anthony literally crashed into her and gave her quite a bruising - he swore he'd smash the skateboard and wouldn't ride one again. Of course, it could be because she was threatening to sue his low-riding ass off, but the thought was there. Or maybe it was because her Hal, her bodyguard, came up to him and gave him the evil eye, but still. He even smashed the board right there, in front of her, when she looked like she was going to sue him anyway. She cringed at the thought now, though at the time she thought it was poetic justice. There are other weird stories like that, but she couldn't be bothered to remember them all. And of course there were the usual flowers/chocolate/candlelit dinner type of sweet things that guys do all the time to add to her list.

So anyway, guys have like, this innate need to make/keep her happy. Maybe it was because she was drop-dead gorgeous - a fact that she never denied to admit to herself - or maybe it was because her dad was only like the richest man in Sunnydale, but whatever the reason, Cordy was rarely deprived of anything she could possibly want by the opposite sex. And occasionally one of them turns around and does something totally unexpected like this Xander Harris did. That is, sing to her.

Acting in the age-old way of a love struck schoolgirl, Cordelia sighed deeply and rested her chin on her palm as she looked out the window of her classroom.

It's been days since he sang to her, and she still didn't know how to pay him back. She intended on giving him something back for the song, it was only fair (though admittedly she just gave poor Chad a flirtatious little smile and blew him a kiss for the mangoes, and Anthony was lucky that she didn't send Hal after him).

See, Xander had a soft spot in Cordelia's heart, God knows why. She was popular, he was not. She was known throughout the school by the title on her vanity plates - that is, as Queen C. When she wanted to be kind, she called him and his kind losers. When she didn't want to be kind . . .

Yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before. Romeo and Juliet, forbidden love, all that sort of thing. While it's hard to imagine the spoiled, obnoxious (and yet strangely likeable) Cordelia as the sweet, if a little weepy (borderline pathetic, really) Juliet of Shakespeare fame . . . come to think of it, Xander was hardly the Romeo type, though he did have the dark hair/eyes combo Italian look going for him . . . where was I? Oh yeah. While it's hard to imagine, blah blah blah, in many ways they were a sort of star-crossed couple. High school is vicious, man. Anyone who's gone through those four years can attest to that fact. The "cool" people (translation: Cordy) simply were in a whole other social sphere from the . . . umm . . . "not-so-cool" people (meaning Xander).

But she liked him, she really did. Cordy had never really liked liked a guy before, you know what I'm saying? Little crushes, sure, we've all had those, but Xander, dweeb he may be, Xander was different. She liked him.

I think she's afraid of moving up into the other L-word level yet - after all, her so-called friends didn't even approve of the guy, and his friends - not that it mattered, but they didn't really like her, she thinks. Except maybe Oz, who was a don't-care kind of guy to begin with, anyway. But never mind them. Never mind them all. This was between her and Xander.

"Cordy and Xander," she breathed, trying out the pairing and liking how it sounds. She'd have to get used to it, anyway. A few days ago, she'd made the public "coming out of the closet", so to speak. No, not that closet. The utility closet, if you want to be symbolic, the one that they'd spent a lot of time in, kissing and groping and God knows what else . . . and now Cordy and Xander were officially a couple. She'd nearly had a seizure after realizing that she'd stood up to Harmony and the gang in defense of Xander Harris. Xander Harris. God.

But hey, he'd been such a sweetie lately. He'd given her a necklace, see - it's the one she wore around her neck now, take a look - never mind the fact that he used it to try and cast a spell on her. That jerk.

She looked down at the table and smiled a little secret smile. She didn't mind that much.

He'd given her the necklace, and he'd sang her a song to cheer her up when she was stressing about her little uprising . . . so it was only fair to give him something in return.

Candy and flowers were so passé, and besides, that was more a first date sort of gift. And the thought of her, Cordelia Chase, giving a guy the candy and flowers she was used to getting, was a little weird. So it was the 90's. So she was a liberated female, so what? She could do better than that gift wise, anyway.

The problem was, how?

She drummed her fingers impatiently on the windowsill, still thinking. A watch, maybe? Nah. That was so a Dad-gift. Which meant a tie was out of the question, not that she ever saw him wearing anything but those cheap surf shop rejects, anyway. She pictured him in a tie for a second and smiled to herself, but soon moved on to other things. So what did Xander Harris like, anyway? That could be her starting point. Her lip curled ever so slightly as she made a mental list: girls, guns (at least judging from that weird episode last Halloween), and food. So that meant either she gave him a backstage pass to Baywatch: the Movie, bought him an Uzi, or arranged a lifetime supply of Cheetos to be delivered to his door.

Not much of a choice there.

"Damn the boy," she muttered. She felt out of her league here. Being an only child and the head of the Sunnydale High A-list meant she didn't often have to buy other people gifts . . . it was more often the other way around. Damn the boy is right. Why did he have to be so irritatingly likeable? Why did she feel compelled to . . .

"Miss Chase, would you care to tell us what's on your mind?" The dry, raspy voice of the teacher, Mr. . . Mr. something.

She didn't even think before replying. "Xander."

Her eyes opened wide as soon as she said it. She didn't really say that, did she? Luckily the rest of the class was in a similar state of inattentiveness as she was. So maybe no one heard her little slip? Buffy Summers, friend of aforementioned Xander, and sitting two rows down and to the back, caught her eye and snickered. Okay, so maybe the whole class wasn't not paying attention. She shot her a glare and tried to cover up.

"I meant, of course, Alexander the Great. King of . . . Greece?"

Mr. Whatsisname gave her a cold stare. "I believe Alexander the Great was the ruler of Macedonia, not Greece. And may I remind you, Cordelia, that this is Biology class," he said, stressing the syllables. "We are currently talking about plant biology, namely xylem and phloem. Does this mean anything to you at all or is the thought of Alexander the Great too overpowering?"

A blank stare.

He sighed. After 24 years of teaching high school Biology, he was used to that kind of response. He glanced at the clock. The bell was about to ring anyway, but he decided to let the class leave early.

"You're all dismissed," he said, the only thing he'd said so far that day that caused the students to sit up and listen. The room emptied quickly. He glared at their backs and felt in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He needed to go out back and sneak in a smoke before his next class.

It took her another two periods of deliberation -thankfully with no more near-misses like the last time - before she came up with the obvious way to say thank you. The answer was so clear, so simple, she didn't know why she hadn't come up with it earlier.

Her smile was wide and secretive as she hurried out of French class and into the milling masses of the pre-Lunch crowd. She had to find Oz.

She found him in the caf. Busy doing lovey-dovey stuff with Willow, but a little throat clearing and a not-so-subtle declaration that her words were for Oz's ears only and the witch politely excused herself from the table, puzzled and a not a little annoyed.

Oz looked after Willow's retreating figure with a half-smile in his normally impassive face. Then he turned to Cordelia with mild curiosity and nodded for her to go on. "Shoot," he added as an unnecessary consent.

She told him her plan.

He listened quietly as she outlined what little details there were in her plan for him, but his stoic expression may have slipped a notch when he heard what she was going to do. When she finished her explanation, he paused for a second, as if speculating on how to answer. His response, when finally uttered, was deeply profound.

"Oh."

Oz was a man of few words and could speak volumes with a slight change in expression, or a brief and deliberated remark. Unfortunately, Cordelia was not too well versed on Oz-speak, and she had trouble deciphering the exact meaning of that one word.

"Is that a 'Yes, you'll help me' 'oh' or a 'Sorry, no can do' 'oh'?" she prompted.

He smiled at her then, a slow, lazy smile. "The first one."

Willow's blood burned with curiosity, and despite the warnings she issued herself on how curiosity killed the cat, she could not resist the temptation . . . and decided to stake out Xan's house that night. Just to see what that b . . . Cordy had lured her Oz into participating in. There was no need to fear any random vamps or other nighttime uglies. She would have the usual cross and holy water . . . and she would bring Buffy.

That night . . .

"There's Oz's van," hissed Buffy, as she took note of the vehicle approaching in the distance. "Duck down, Will, he might see you!"

"Oh and you're so much better at this hiding thing than me?" complained Willow mildly, but scrunched herself downward obediently.

Buffy smiled briefly at her friend. "Practice." She looked out and saw Oz climb out of the van, with something - she couldn't yet tell what - in his hand.

"What . . .?" began Willow, but Buffy shushed her and leaned forward, squinting a little.

Another car was coming, and Buffy sunk into a seating position for a moment as its headlights swept over the spot they were hiding in. "That's probably her."

"Cordelia? About to meet with my boyfriend, is she? And to that I have just one word to say . . ." Willow made a face. "Grrr . . ."

Buffy laughed silently, and gestured for her to get up. "I think we're safe for now. Let's see what's going on."

Both girls moved into a kneeling position and stared out at the scene taking place in front of them. Cordelia, dressed to kill in form fitting black pants and a revealing green shirt - both of which caused Willow's heart to thump with jealousy in case it was for Oz's benefit - said something in a low voice to Oz, who nodded and smiled. He bent down to unpack the case in his hand.

"That's his guitar! I-I mean the normal one, not his electric, cause there are no plugs to . . ." exclaimed Willow. Away from them, Oz strummed a little tune, and Cordelia cleared her throat experimentally. "You don't think . . ." She exchanged a look with Buffy.

"Uh oh . . ." said the other girl softly. "If this is what I think it is . . ." Oz began playing. "This is not a good thing. Quick, if we leave now, we might be able to . . ."

I hate the world today

". . . get away." Buffy's shoulders sagged a little. "Too late."

You're so good to me
I know but I can't change
Tried to tell you
But you look at me like maybe
I'm an angel underneath
Innocent and sweet

Willow muttered something unintelligible under her breath.

Yesterday I cried
You must have been relieved to see
The softer side
I can understand how you'd be so confused
I don't envy you
I'm a little bit of everything
All rolled into one

"Here it comes," yelped Buffy, and gritted her teeth in preparation. Sure enough, Cordy's voice rose in volume - and increased a tad in its off-keyness - as she sang . . .

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know I wouldn't want it any other way

Inside the house, a light went on, and a familiar face leaned out the window. Xander's, noted Willow, as she took in the idiotic grin of delight on his face as he listened to Cordelia's caterwauling.

So take me as I am

Willow made a rude noise.

This may mean
You'll have to be a stronger man
Rest assured that
When I start to make you nervous
And I'm going to extremes
Tomorrow I will change
And today won't mean a thing

She blinked, and leaned forward despite herself, all the better to catch Cordelia's heartfelt words.

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know I wouldn't want it any other way

Buffy, too, had regained interest in the proceedings. Both watched as Cordelia lost herself in a lively little dance - far more graceful than Meredith Brooks, and far more seductive.

Just when you think, you've got me figured out
The season's already changing
I think it's cool, you do what you do
And don't try to save me

Xander scrambled out of his first-level window.

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know I wouldn't want it any other way

Cordelia danced towards him, hips waving alluringly. Her voice was still horribly off-key, but by now it didn't matter.

I'm a bitch, I'm a tease
I'm a goddess on my knees
When you hurt, when you suffer
I'm your angel undercover
I've been numb, I'm revived
Can't say I'm not alive
You know I wouldn't want it any other way

Oz played the closing riffs of the song as Cordelia finished singing and murmured something to Xander. His arm slipped around her waist and he said something to her that made her smile and swat his arm playfully. Though Willow and Buffy had not heard a word they said, they suspected what it was about, and neither of them thought it wise to intrude.

"Looks like it's private time for the happy couple," said Buffy as she sat down on the grass and patted it for Willow to join her. "Well. That was . . ."

"Off-key?" finished Willow with a sardonic grin, and both girls laughed. Willow's eyes suddenly became soft. "I feel like such a jerk. All this time I was thinking, Cordelia? That bitch! and then . . ."

"I think we all misjudged her."

They were both silent for a while.

Buffy smiled suddenly. "At least she was nice enough to give him a fair warning."

Willow laughed.

"If you two are done feeling bad for spying on them I'll take you both home."

Willow squeaked, and a stake appeared in Buffy's hand. She looked up, body tense . . . and saw Oz casually standing a ways away from them.

"Oh. Oz." She turned to Willow. "It's Oz," she repeated unnecessarily.

"Oz . . . what are you doing . . . I mean how did you know . . .?"

"I could smell you," he replied easily, and helped the two girls up.

"Oh, gee, now there's something to be proud of," said Buffy with a slight grimace.

"Strictly good smells, don't worry," reassured Oz, as he led the way back to his parked van.

"Well . . . good," said Buffy.

"Good," echoed Willow

Oz looked back at Xander and Cordelia, who were too busy concentrating on their heavy lip-lock to pay any attention to their retreat. "Good."