He'd brought her a rose.

Topanga wasn't quite sure why that was what stuck out to her. Gaheris dressed to the nines seemed like a thing much more likely to catch attention - his long curly red hair slicked back, his normal worn t-shirts replaced by a slick striped suit that did wonders for his broad shoulders and slim waist. He’d set his large, warm, hands against her, one at her waist, one against her neck and kissed her. He’d even dropped the rose and stammered for a second when he’d opened the door and seen her. But it was the rose that was sticking out to her. It was a little pink tea rose; and the scent was already permeating her tiny dorm room.

“Yeh are one of the most beautiful things that I have ever seen,” he murmured to her, his hands still on her.

"I don't have a vase," Topanga burst out in response. She had specifically left both of her vases in what was now Cory and Shawn’s apartment. Either of them would be much more likely to get flowers than her.

"I'll get a cup," Gaheris offered, grabbing a clean one from the small stack on her microwave. He went over to the small sink in the corner of her room and filled it. She looked down at the rose. And it hit her.

What the hell was she doing?

“No,” Topanga protested staring at the rose.

She hadn't asked him for a rose. That's why she couldn’t get over it. This was weak. Using him to avoid being lonely, was weak.

“Topanga? Are yeh okay?”

"Why did you bring me a flower?" Topanga asked.

"What?"

"Why did you bring me a flower?"

Gaheris looked askance at her for a moment, "Did I do something wrong?"

Topanga handed the rose back to him and explained her conversation with Margot. Gaheris visibly wilted.

“Topanga… no, we’re… that’s not-”

"I just can’t let you… can’t let myself… do this Gaheris,” Topanga powered through, “I get that you were trying to help me. And you did help me, and I’m not mad. Well, I’m not mad anymore, because I figured out that you helped me and it didn’t seem fair to… Anyway,” she moved to sweep her hair away from her face, then remembered how long it had taken to set it, “I need to rip the Band-aid off.”

Gaheris spun the rose between his thumb and forefinger, watching it agitatedly.

"Topanga, it's important teh me teh help people," he admitted, "But I… I move furniture, I dress up and help my friends make their exes jealous. I wouldn’t… I didn’t sleep with yeh just cause yeh asked me teh, I wouldn’t… yeh were… vulnerable and I didn’t want…I wouldn’t do that. The thing with Margot…I took her out cause she was lonely. I… I’m sorry if yeh…” he stopped spinning the rose, “I really like you. And I hurt you. I’m such a jerk.”

"I’m sorry," Topanga said. An awkward pause dropped between them, "I like you too. You’re not a jerk.”

Gaheris brightened slightly- "Okay. So let's jest… we can jest start over," he held the rose out to her, "Topanga, you are smart and beautiful and wonderful, I like yeh, and I would love to spend New Year’s Eve with yeh."

Topanga stepped toward him but didn't take the rose, "I can’t go out with you tonight. There’s somewhere I have to be.”

Gaheris’s smile grew fixed, "You make new plans quick, love.”

"I have to go to Margot and Eric’s party,” Topanga announced, “It's not that I don't like you because I do. It’s not that you're not great, because you are, but I… I let you rescue me. And I didn’t think that I was the kind of girl that did that… and I can’t do that right now."

"Then I jest won’t. I don't have teh rescue yeh,” Gaheris said.

"Yes you do. That's what you do."

“That’s…” Gaheris kicked his toe into the ground sheepishly, “Okay. Yeah. That’s true.”

Topanga let out a breath she suddenly felt she’d been holding since she’d slept with him the first time, "Some other time, if you're still out knight errant-ing, maybe we can try again, but I need to know that I can rescue myself first."

Gaheris nodded, "So, smart, beautiful, wonderful, and strong. Jest so you know, this makes me like you more."

“I should go,” she said, “It’s getting late.”

“Are you sure you want to go alone?”

“I have to,” she said, grabbing her purse off her bed.

“Okay,” Gaheris held the rose out to her again. She took it, and he carefully wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head, squeezed her and went to the door.

“If you need me-“

“Gaheris.”

“Right,” he brushed his suit uncomfortably, “Right…well. Good luck, Topanga.”

And he left.

Topanga stood alone in the room, bracing herself. After a moment she went to the sink, put the rose in the cup of water and set it by her bed. Then she grabbed her coat and walked out the door.

Eric debated for a moment before fixing himself another mojito. This would technically be his third for the night, but it was only his second for the party, which had been swinging for a little over forty-five minutes. Someone had already called their agent in drunken hysterics, the music had been turned up to easily double what they had agreed to keep it up at and the crush of the room indicated that several guests had already told friends to ditch their previous plans and come here.

Margot and Shawn were running pretty late, but he didn’t want to seem drunk when they arrived. He decided to make himself a weak drink and then call to check on her.

Andy appeared in front of him, “Hey, Eric, honey, as long you’re back there you want to whip me up a tequila sunrise?”

“You got it, buddy,” Eric replied, grabbing the tequila from behind him. “This mean that you and Carlisle are done dressing Cory up for the party?”

“Well, mostly.”

“What do you mean “mostly”?” Eric asked.

“Your brother is refusing to come downstairs,” Andy admitted, tapping his fingers against the bar counter guiltily.

“What did you two do?”

“Snazzed him up. We got him some pants that actually fit and I lent him that shirt I wore to Giselle’s birthday party.”

“The purple thing?” Eric demanded, not noticing that he was getting pretty liberal with the tequila.

“Lilac, actually,” Andy said, grabbing the bottle in Eric’s hand and turning it upright.

“I told you guys not to dress him in a gay color.”

“A gay color?” Andy demanded, feigning insult.

“We’ve discussed this, Andy,” Eric sighed, pulling the orange juice out of the fridge, “A color that does not come in the Crayola twenty-four pack, is a gay color. And isn’t that shirt also shiny and v-necked?”

“He looks really cute in that shirt. Your brother is hiding a body under that long-sleeve tee-shirt he came in.”

“His body is taken,” Eric waved a warning finger at Andy, “Give him his clothes back.”

“He’s going to stick out a lot more in his Target clothes than he will in a little Dolce and Gabbana,” Andy protested, “And, just in the interest of science, What color is your shirt, Eric?”

Eric finished mixing Andy’s drink, “It’s “burnt umber”, but I pull it off in a sexy, secure in my sexuality-y, Justin Timberlake-y, sort of way. And you pull lilac off in a… really-super-gay-successful-artist way. Cory’s just not as cool as we are. Now, go give him his clothes back, I’ve got to call my beautiful girl and make sure she’s going to be here in time to kiss me at midnight.”

“If she doesn’t make it, I’ll kiss you at midnight,” Andy told him with a smirk.

“I thought Carlisle already called dibs on you.”

“Oh, yeah, we forgot to tell you- we broke up.”

“You guys break up all the time,” Eric said inserting his crazy straw back into his drink.

“This is going to be a permanent thing,” Andy took a gulp of his drink with a grimace, and grabbed the grenadine, which he began dumping in his drink, “The heat’s been totally gone for weeks. It’s like he’s coming over here to see you. We just want to play video games and hang out, Sex isn’t even on the table. We’re the only gays under 50 who sit in bed and talk. Well, apparently except for your brother and this Shawn. Carlisle and I are good friends, love the boy to death, but I think that’s about it.”

“I’m not sure if I’m flattered or offended that Carlisle would rather hang out with me than have sex with me,” Eric said.

“Do you people ever talk about anything but sex?” Cory demanded, appearing behind Eric with a shimmer of lilac rage.

“You missed the part about crayons,” Andy offered, "But hey- you came downstairs!

"Well, apparently someone's having a rather dramatic conversation with their agent in the bathroom down here, so the line for the bathroom outside your door was getting longer and angrier and drunker. They were practically breaking down the door. Oh, and someone threw up in the urn outside your door."

"Yeah, I've started expecting that. Plus I saw one of the models eat a shrimp earlier. It was only a matter of time," Eric shrugged.

"Well, now you can stay down here and everyone can see how sexy you look. Here, drink this," Andy passed him the ruined tequila sunrise and Cory took a huge gulp of it.

"Where the hell is Shawn?" Cory demanded.

"Cory, chill, he and Margot are just a little late. Don't get your blouse in a twist,” Eric said with a smirk.

“Hey, now,” Andy interjected.

"Look, I only came down here to ask you to call them, because my phone is dead. Just make the call, so that I can go back upstairs."

"Umm… alright," Eric pulled his phone out of his vest pocket with a look of concern and hit the speed dial, "Everything okay, man?"

"Fine," Cory said, the fake nonchalance in his voice even less convincing than his second huge gulp from his glass.

"Hey sweet-heart, are you guys on the way?" he gave Cory a thumbs up.

"Great. And can they bring me a man's shirt?"

Andy rolled his eyes and left the two of them in a huff.

Eric repeated the question and gave Cory another thumbs up. Cory sighed, and headed back upstairs to Eric's room. The line for the bathroom had apparently really needed to go, because they were gone. He downed the last of his drink and set the glass on Eric's nightstand before beginning to pace around the room.

"I can't believe that I'm actually worried he's not coming," Cory sighed to himself, "This is Shawn!"

"Your emotionally crippled, abandonment issue ridden boyfriend, who has a history of being a flight risk.”

Cory would have jumped several feet in the air if the liquor hadn't been starting to set in, as it was, he lurched around to see a figure silhouetted in the bathroom's door frame.

In a red dress.

Shawn's resolve to let the ring issue go melted halfway down the hallway and he doubled back to his apartment under the pretext of needing to pee. Margot sighed deeply as they turned around.

"You can go hold a cab, I'll be really quick," Shawn promised.

"No, you said something so now I have to go too," she groused.

“Is this one of those girl things?”

“Yes. You bastard."

"Are you going to have to wriggle back into that…into the thing?" Shawn asked anxiously. The time and not-looking effort it would take for Margot to re-dress was not going to do anything for Shawn's nerves.

"No. It unsnaps," Margot sighed.

"Unsnaps?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah. At the bottom," She waved vaguely at her crotch level, "It unsnaps."

Shawn very consciously did not consider that as he unlocked the door and waved Margot inside. While she unsnapped things in the bathroom, Shawn fished Topanga's ring box out of Cory’s drawer and slipped it in his slacks pocket, swearing to himself that he wasn't going to do anything stupid, but he was finally, actually going to confront Cory about a relationship issue before it exploded in badness.

"Shawn?" Margot called from the bathroom.

"There's more toilet paper under the sink," he called back, remembering the thin roll.

"No, can you hold up my skirt?"

"While you pee?" Shawn demanded incredulously, "Margot, I love you, but I don't love you that much."

"No, while I snap. Apparently it's a two hand operation."

"Are you wearing something under your…your thing?"

"Man up, Hunter. Just stand behind me, close your eyes and hold the damn skirt."

Shawn rolled his eyes, “Fine. Incoming.”

“Damn, this is a lot of skirt,” He sighed standing behind her, wrapping his arms around her and grabbing the front of the hem. It was like covering both of them in a cloud of blue frill.

“I know it’s silly, but I never ever get to dress up. For anything. Ever. I went overboard. It’s a girl thing.”

“Ahh… the benefits of Cory. Never again will I send people running for the bathroom at the mention of peeing, never again shall I hold up this much skirt.”

Margot let loose a little hoot of triumph.

"Successfully snapped?"

"Well yeah, but also- you- you believe that you'll be with Cory! You just said it.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You said you’d never have to do this because of Cory!” Margot leered, washing her hands.

“That’s just the way that we talk, it’s the joke,” Shawn shrugged, “Topanga once told me that if I didn’t learn how to commit to someone that I’d be old and alone except for Cory, who would bring me magazines and pudding.”

“You and Cory for—ev—er” Margot singsonged, swinging their linked arms between them, “You and Cory for—ev-er. You and Co-“

“I’m gonna leave you here, Margot, I mean it.”

Margot smirked at him and took his hand in hers, “Come on. Take me to the ball.”

“Topanga?” Cory gasped.

“Hi, Cory.”

She was a shock to the system. Made up. Coiffed. Dressed up like Cory had never seen her dressed up before. With no plausible reason that Cory could possibly think of for her being here. He nearly reached out to pinch himself.

“Margot invited me,” she told him. He felt himself nod. More seemed to be expected.

“Oh,” he managed. After another awkward pause he added, “You know Margot?”

“Yeah. She invited me to her Christmas party. I was staying in her building. We’ve hung out a little.”

“Right.”

“So… Shawn’s not coming?”

“He’s coming,” Cory replied, a little more harshly than necessary, “He’s just a little late. He and Margot are at our apartment. And no way in hell Margot’s skipping out on Eric. They’ll be here.”

“Yeah,” Topanga agreed, “They’re almost sickeningly perfect aren’t they?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wonder if we used to be like that?” Topanga asked. Her voice was steady, her expression was almost curiously detached. But her eyes, unable to meet Cory’s, gave away how much she was struggling to not just walk out the door.

“I guess,” Cory replied. He was suddenly very aware of how ridiculous he looked, of how the satiny texture of his shirt slid accusingly against his skin, of how tight his jeans were.

“You and Shawn were like that,” Topanga told him, the steady in her voice clearly being pushed to the brink, “At the restaurant.”

“Topanga-“

The door swung open, and a skinny blond girl in considerably less dress than the weather called for ran through the two of them to the open bathroom door. The sounds of retching followed immediately.

“-Can we go outside and talk about this?” Cory finished.

“Sure.”

They dug their coats out of the pile on Eric’s bed. Topanga kicked off her high heels and slid them into a pair of Eric’s shoes she’d pulled out of his closet. The only sound as they threw on warmer clothes was the continued vomiting from inside Eric’s bathroom. Cory pulled the door open for Topanga and shut it quietly behind them.

Topanga crunched through the snow in Eric’s giant shoes and leaned against the balcony railing. “I’m so stupid,” she said.

“No you’re not. I was totally oblivious I was…,” Cory trailed off, but pushed forward. He had to be able to say it to her, “…gay. How could you have known?”

“I wasn’t totally oblivious Cory.”

It took a second for that to sink in, Cory braced himself against the balcony railing,"When did you know? Eric…" he stammered, "Eric said he always knew."

Topanga sighed, "I guess the first time I wondered was after you kissed Lauren."

Cory scoffed, "Wait, you thought I was gay because I kissed another girl?"

Topanga mimicked his scoff sarcastically, "No. I'd seen you with other girls. That time before we got back together in Florida? You were going through girls like tissues but you were just… dating. Lauren was the only person that I had ever seen you connect with. That’s when I realized that I couldn't take it for granted that we were the only people out there for each other. When we broke up after that I started thinking about how you interacted with people. You and Shawn were really intimate. More intimate than we were in some ways. Not to mention that without you around I was actually talking to other people. Rumors were flying that year that you’d… left me for Shawn.”

"Apparently Frankie the Enforcer thought Shawn and I were perfect for each other," Cory interjected, trying to lighten the heavy silence.

"Really? Where did you hear that?"

"Harley Keiner told us a couple weeks ago”

"Harley Keiner? When did you see Harley Keiner.”

"He umm… interrupted us. At lovers lane. He's a cop now."

"You're kidding."

"I would be less worried about my mother’s safety if I was.”

Topanga wrapped her coat tighter around herself, "Lover's Lane huh?"

Cory redirected, "So… why did we get back together then… if you thought I was…"

"Because I didn't think that you were... gay" she shrugged, "Until Shawn found out that you'd applied to a school he couldn't get into and you started trying to make each other jealous. That put things in perspective. It was worse than our break up and you’d reacted the same way when he dumped you for Jennifer," Topanga sighed heavily, and Cory nearly reached out to touch her arm, "But, for the most part, it was all stuff that I could overlook. Sure you guys were weirdly close, and Shawn couldn’t survive without you, but even if you were a little gay, I didn't think our relationship was going to be threatened by a little crush on your best friend. Especially considering it was Shawn Hunter- Trailer trash Casanova.”

“Don’t call him that,” Cory warned weakly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t really mean it,” She said, with subdued sincerity, "Anyway, by the time I started thinking that maybe Shawn's girl hopping had more to do with you than with trying to keep from getting hurt, Angela happened. He had been lonely and then he was determined to be us. I thought the problem had gone away."

"So you weren't sure until this fall? That this would happen?"

"No," Topanga murmured, "I knew I was going to lose you to Shawn when your little brother was sick."

Cory was stricken. Topanga shrugged, her perfectly sculpted curls bounced on her shoulders, "You were going crazy pushing this stupid Valentine's date, way beyond the realm of normal crazy, even your normal crazy. All you wanted to do was pretend that everything was okay- you wanted me to go back to what I was, you wanted things to be the way there were when we were fourteen, you wanted me to be what I was when I was twelve. And suddenly Shawn appeared, back from his little freak out, not at all what he was at twelve- and everything was okay,” She sighed deeply, blowing a plume of fog in front of her, “All that needed to happen for everything to be okay- all that you needed as a constant in your life-all you needed to give up on your fight with me, was for Shawn to be with you."

"That was before we got married," Cory stammered, blown away, "Way before we got married. Why didn't you-"

"I loved you," She said simply, “And I’d never loved anyone else, and you hadn’t either, and it was easy to convince myself that I was wrong. That it would never happen.”

“So why didn’t you just leave him in Philadelphia? Him moving in with us was your idea!” Cory heard the sound of his voice and changed his tone, he had no right to be accusing, “Wouldn’t it have been-“

“There was an off chance that he’d realize he had two years of school left at Pennbrooke instead of running off after you without a plan,” Topanga sighed, “I wasn’t banking on it, but it could have happened. And the plan for him and Eric to move somewhere was the next best thing. Me and my husband, building a life together. Shawn and Eric off, being single, in another part of the city. I couldn’t just take him away from you,” she sighed, and continued, just a little bitterly, “You seemed more likely to figure it out if I took him away from you.”

“But you… you asked me to send him away.”

“Neither of you had any idea, and you were still… I was still losing you.”

“Topanga I am so-“

“-So I played my last card. I asked you to send him away. You were either going do it, and we could try to recover, or…” she heaved out a breath, “You were going to start fucking him and we were going to wind up on this balcony… waiting for him to come and take you away from me,” she cleared her throat, “The shiny purple shirt wasn’t part of the plan.”

Cory barked out an uncomfortable laugh.

“How did it happen?”

“Topanga, you don’t want-“

“How. Did. It. Happen?”

“He kissed me,” Cory said quietly. Topanga looked at him expectantly.

“He came to get me after I spent the night in detox. He left Margot with me all day, she told me that she liked him, but she knew he didn’t like her back and it wouldn’t ever come to anything. When he came home I tried to convince him to take a chance on her. He wouldn’t listen and went to bed. And I stayed up. Replayed the whole conversation and let myself figure it out. Why you had.. said the things you said. Why I felt… how I’d always felt… and I was completely horrified. More horrified when I realized that going to bed- lying there with him, was going to make me feel less afraid. So I did. And I was. I fell asleep and when I woke up…” Cory swept his hand out in front of him in a “you know” gesture. Topanga’s eyes didn’t leave his face.

“What, Cory?”

“When I woke up… he was in my arms, and he was kissing me, and I wanted to kiss him back.”

Neither of them spoke for a while. They watched the traffic on the street. Cory felt snowflakes melting on his neck and dripping down under his collar. Topanga leaned over the railing, still as a sculpture.

“This is my fault, Topanga. You have no idea how much I wish I hadn’t hurt you. How much I miss you. How much I wish I could stand here and say- well, with Shawn out of the way, I’ve got an opening for a new best friend,” Cory wiped the melting snow off of his neck, “’Cause I’ve got to tell you that without you around, I’m not doing all that great. I lied to my parents about being with Shawn, then brought him home, hurting everyone as much as I possibly could have. I yelled at my co-workers, I’m supposed to call my parents back, but I’m probably not going to because Shawn tried to jump my bones in the middle of the conversation, and now I’m afraid to call them, and then right after that I proceeded to scare Shawn again, and then he took off this morning, which I know is a bad sign, bad enough that I’m actually a little worried that he’s not going to show up now.”

Topanga looked at him appraisingly and closed the distance between them. She wrapped one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulders, and set her head against his chest. It was a stunned second before he responded.

“I can’t do that, Cory,” she told him.

“I care about you, Topanga. We were friends. We were friends for years before we were together,” Cory said, “We’ve been friends since we were eleven! You remember? My hair was all weird, and you pushed me against that locker and… you gave me my first kiss, Topanga, you changed me, Come on, that’s a bond!”

“I remember,” Topanga murmured and pulled away, he let go of her reluctantly and she placed her hands on his chest, “But it was recently pointed out to me that… maybe that bond made it too easy for us to get lost in each other instead of forging on independently. Made you think you loved me and made me want to love you. Maybe that bond should be-”

Cory looked like she’d hit him, “-Topanga I did love you. And I do miss you, and-“

“Shhh,” Topanga put a finger to his lips, “I think that bond should be broken.”

“Why?”

“Because I still love you,” She said, her voice straining, “And I can’t watch you love someone else.”

“So… so what do you want me to do?” Cory asked.

“Kiss me goodbye,” she whispered, “I didn’t change you, I let you change me. I kissed you at those lockers, you kissed me that Halloween when you thought you were a werewolf, and we never even talked about it. When Shawn kissed you it changed your whole life. Kiss me goodbye, Cory. Change me back.”

Cory pulled one of her hands from his shoulder to his neck, and set his hands at her waist. She lifted her face to his, and neither closed their eyes until their lips met.

“Need a hand?” Shawn asked with mock condescension as Margot struggled to get out of the cab by herself. She looked up at him with cautiously concealed defeat.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. Shawn carefully but less than gracefully pulled her out of the cab and set her on the sidewalk.

“Do you need me to carry your train or something?”

“Not unless you’re practicing to be my bridesmaid already,” she shot back as they walked up to intricately latticed front door. Margot punched a code into a discreet chrome box under the door knob, “But, lest we forget- you won’t have to worry about it because-” she took a deep breath that boded ill, “You and Cory for—ev—er, you and Cory for—ev—er.”

She did this all the way to the elevator, until Shawn finally interrupted with “Can I have a cigarette?”

“No. You don’t need one, things are fine. You two didn’t even fight,” Margot said reasonably, “Besides, if I piss off Cory, who’ll bring me pudding?”

“Eric.”

“Apparently Eric cannot be trusted with sweets.”

“Fine,” Shawn sighed, “So, how long are you and Eric going to play hostess before you disappear upstairs to his room the size of a basketball court to try that thing you made me explain three times?”

“Dude,” Margot told him seriously as the doors dinged open, “My lingerie unsnaps in the crotch.”

“So I should just say goodnight and thanks for inviting me right now?” as they walked directly into Eric’s apartment from the elevator. Shawn took in the decadently decorated apartment, the lavishly set buffet table running from where they stood to most of the way across the apartment and the opulently dressed guests with more aplomb than Cory had.

“Your boyfriend must have spent his past lives feeding the poor and rescuing puppies,” he sighed.

“Well duh,” Margot grinned, “He got me didn’t he?”

“Yeah he did,” Eric announced, appearing around the corner with a neon orange glass in his hand. He kissed Margot sweetly, “You know you completely light up a room when you walk into it, right?”

Shawn grabbed a plate off the table and started filling it up with fussy little appetizers to keep himself from gagging. He hoped Margot and Eric’s honeymoon stage lost its shine soon, they were threatening to become impossible to be around.

“You know you taste like lime and mint, right?”

Eric pointed to his glass in explanation, “Mo-ji-to.”

“How many of those have you had?”

“Four. But I’ve been spreading them out. Okay, maybe not the last two,” Eric admitted. Margot put her hand to his chest and beckoned him down her other hand. She whispered something in his ear. Shawn had a pretty clear idea of what it was. Eric’s eyes widened and he straightened up, thrusting his drink into Shawn’s hand, “Here, take this.”

Shawn took the glass from Eric’s hand and took a deep drink of it, “Where’s Cory?”

“Dolce and Gabanna have shamed him into hiding,” Eric said.

“Is this Shawn?” Andy asked, inserting himself into the conversation.

“Yeah. Hi,” Shawn said, shaking his hand.

“Ahh… the boyfriend. In a nice heterosexual white I see,” Andy took in the shirt under Shawn’s arm, “And bearing masculine clothes.”

“Wait, who are you?” Shawn asked.

“This is my roommate Andy” Eric sighed, “He’s in mood, just ignore him.”

“Can do,” Shawn said, “So where is Cory hiding again?”

“He’s in my room upstairs,” Eric pointed, but Margot was distracting him and Shawn was losing his interest.

Shawn rolled his eyes and started for the stairs.

“If you can clear him out of there after you straighten him out I’ll have all the shrimp puffs put on ice for you,” Eric said, kissing Margot again.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Shawn told him, popping an appetizer into his mouth and heading for the stairs. He could feel Topanga’s wedding ring bouncing against his thigh with every step. They might be lovers now, but Cory was still his best friend. He was sure that Cory had an explanation, he was sure that he was overreacting, and he was sort of proud of himself for not freaking out. He hadn’t taken off after last night, he had come here. He had found the ring and still come here and he was going upstairs to have a perfectly reasonable discussion. He was in a grown up relationship now.

He pulled open Eric’s door and looked around his room. It was slightly smaller than a basket ball court. The bathroom door was closed. Shawn walked over and knocked on it. There was no response. He cracked the door open, “Baby? It’s me. I brought you a shirt.”

No response. Shawn walked into the bathroom. Some girl was lying on the floor with her arm over her eyes.

“Uhh… Ma’am? Are you… breathing?” Shawn asked. When she didn’t reply he nudged her gently with his toe. She groaned, lurched up and barely avoided missing the toilet.

“Sorry, sorry,” Shawn backed out, closed the door and leaned against it, trying to figure out where Cory could have gone.

Then he saw him. On the balcony.

She was softer than he remembered, she yielded into his hands where Shawn was solid against them. Her skin was smooth against his bare face and she smelled like talc and rose. He wondered what Shawn’s stubble would feel like against his skin now that he was clean shaven. This kiss was getting away from him, he pushed Topanga gently.

“Topanga-”

“I know,” she whispered, “This is all I was asking you for.”

“I don’t want it to be like this.”

Topanga ran a hand along his cheek, “This is how it is.”

“So, what, we’re just never going to talk again? We’re going to live in the same city, have the same friends, and never talk to each other again?”

“I’m going to say goodnight, and go home. I’m spending the semester at NYU, I’ll find a new direction, make new friends, and then I’m transferring.”

“To where?”

“Wherever I want.”

“Can I get you a drink before you go home?”

“It’s not a good idea for us to have a drink together, Cory,” Topanga sighed, she shuffled her feet a little, “I’m cold. I’m going inside.”

When she titled her head back up to look at him he was kissing her again. She let him, and he stopped after a moment.

“Goodbye, Topanga Lawrence.”

“Goodbye, Cory Matthews.”

They went back inside. Topanga replaced Eric’s shoes in his closet and they exchanged one last look before Margot burst into the room.

“Cory-Cory-Cory-” She yelled, “Shawn just ran downstairs, shoved this in my hand,” she waved the cream colored ring box in his face and put it in his outstretched hand, “told me that you’d be needing it and took off.”

“He found this?” Cory demanded, staring at the box.

“Cory- he saw us!” Topanga said.

“Shit,” Cory yelled. He jammed the box in his pocket and took off down the stairs, coat still in his hand, cursing himself for being an idiotic sentimentalist who couldn’t find a decent hiding place and hating himself for how easy it seemed to be for him to hurt the people he loved.