See, I am still sitting here and the reason I am sitting here in this exact spot like I do every night is I get the best picture of her here. The way she sits filing her nails or typing into the computer..it doesn’t matter. I like to watch her. You wouldn’t guess to look at her or even to listen to her on the surface that she has any depth, but it’s there. She seems so shallow and well,,,she is, but not as much as she wants you to think. Two weeks after I sang at Lorne’s, I saved her from some demon only to watch her fall into a vision. I had seen them before, her visions. I ***** hate the pain she has to endure with them. I couldn’t do anything. *****, no one else was around. She had been out for the night having a drink. I knew this because I followed her. I protected her and then when she fell with the vision I didn’t know what to do. The others have always helped her with them and since we didn’t really seem to be friends or enemies I just didn’t see where I would ever be alone with her when one came. Isn’t just ***** wonderful how fate decides to tell you something? I didn’t know what else to do so in that dirty dank alley, I held her to me. As she lay sprawled in my lap, I touched her face, stroked her hair, and talked to her about anything. It was touching her that did me in. I knew at that moment that I would never leave not as long as she needed protecting. It scared me and when she was herself and back at the Hyperion I ran. I didn’t come back until I knew she would be gone. It still scares me to know that I..I ..oh *****…I love Cordelia Chase. There, I admitted it. I love Cordelia Chase with a flame so hot it scorches my soul. Well, if I still have my soul. I love her bitchiness. I love her shallowness. I live for her verbal attacks of wit. I love her need for money and fame even though she may never see it. I have even begun to see that for her the dream is more important than actually achieving it. I don’t think anyone else sees that, but I do. Angel might, but if he does he doesn’t say anything. I love Cordelia Chase…Queen ‘C’…so I sit here and watch and she doesn’t know. What if I tell her and she laughs? What if she is disgusted? I see her look at me sometimes and swear I see something in those eyes of hers, but I am not sure. How can I be sure? I can’t, but I have decided to take the plunge and quit sitting her where she doesn’t know and do something so she does know. I saved up my measly paychecks and paid a jeweler to make a delivery tonight to Miss Chase. I hope she likes them. I know she wants them. I saw her stare at them for an hour one night in the window when I followed her.