"Cordy…no."

"Cordelia…no."

"Remember Valen…no."

"You know how you say I damage your image…no."

"Shit."

"I have to tell you…no."

"Willow and I…no."

"Do you, by chance, like Oz at all…no."

"Do you believe in wife swap…no."

He sighed and flopped back on his bed. He didn't deal well with guilt. All guilt. Any guilt. And nowadays, he was guilt central.

Strained relationship with Buffy because he felt guilty about lying to her. Cheating on Cordelia with Willow. Cheating on Willow with Cordelia. Pretending to be Oz's pal while lusting after his girlfriend.

Getting on Buffy's case about keeping secrets.

"Ha. I laugh. For I am hypocritical man." Flipping over, he buried his face in his pillow. His pillow that smelled softly of Cordelia's shampoo.

"What am I gonna do?" He got up and began to pace.

Buffy - well, that situation had sort of resolved itself. Angel had a soul. He was back. And the world was still in one piece. So all he had to do was forgive himself.

Cordelia. He loved her. She'd proven herself to be quite a person as well as quite a woman. And he was pretty sure she'd kill him if he tried to break up with her.

Which left Willow. He almost wished he'd never seen her in that dress. Never really * seen * her.

But that would mean not knowing how soft her lips were. How good her body felt pressed against his. How sweet she tasted. How much he wanted her. How very incredibly lucky he was that she wanted him. That she * still * wanted him.

And how very much this was tearing her apart. She was too good to have to go through this agony. Which left him only one course of action.

He stopped his pacing and stared into the mirror again.

"Cordelia…I think we need to talk…"