Disclaimer- Don't own them, they just live in my head.

Dedicated to Chris and Dale, cuz I was talking to them while writing XD

Joanne Jefferson had always been possessive. She never wanted to share anything with anyone else. She worked hard for everything that was hers, and in her mind, no one had any right to take that from her.

Joanne was always competitive. She always had to be number one. First in her class. The best lawyer at her firm. And she absolutely had to be number one in her lover's life.

So why did she fall for Maureen Johnson, of all people? Maureen was everything she ever wanted. She was passionate, colorful, and spirited; she didn't let anything restrict her. She tried absolutely everything once, and she had talent. Damn, did she have talent. Joanne could look at her and see infinitive untapped potential, ready to burst out the second Maureen put her mind to it.

But Maureen was also dramatic, full of mood swings that Joanne didn't always understand. She could pity herself for hours on end, struggled with bouts of depression. She had an incredibly horrible self image, which she tried to doctor with her constant flirting exploits. She needed reassurance that she was wanted. She was afraid to put her mind to her talents, displaying it only in front of locals in a brash, protesting manner designed to make people pay any attention in any way she could. If it was only a little protest, they couldn't tell her she didn't have talent.

Joanne had always been possessive.

This possessiveness was extended to her lovers, and whenever she dated anyone past a third date, Joanne made sure she was the ONLY one in her lover's life. She found this to work for her, and never strayed from that path.

That is, until one Maureen Johnson came along. Joanne fell for her instantly, loving her the moment she saw her enter a small, crowded bar on the cusp of Midtown and the East Village. One look and she was captivated. Joanne knew this was her perfect match.

Unfortunately, this perfect match came with a boyfriend.

Joanne didn't find out about Him until the third date, when she broached the possibility of her and Maureen becoming exclusive. She was extremely angry upon finding out, despite her previous rules of not being exclusive until the third date, and began to storm out of the bar. She was only stopped when Maureen begged her not to go, telling her she didn't love Him and she was going to leave Him soon. Joanne reluctantly agreed, taking Maureen to her place for the night, claiming her over and over again, whispering, "You're mine" and "I love you." Maureen whispered those things back, and Joanne floated on a blissful cloud of happiness. Maureen was hers.

Joanne had always been possessive.

Two months later, and Maureen still hadn't broken up with Him. To make things worse, Joanne wasn't sure she ever would. Maureen depended on Him, whether or not she really did love him.He was like her security blanket. He took care of her, made sure she had enough to eat, a place to stay, reassuring her of her talent. Yes, she was sometimes neglected, especially with Roger's withdrawal and April's death, but she knew that He still cared. The neglect was enough to make her cheat; it wasn't enough to make her actually leave Him.

Joanne was at a loss. It was entirely too early to ask Maureen to live with her; Joanne had always vowed not to be a U-Haul lesbian. But as long as she let Maureen date both her and Him at the same time, things would not change. Several times Joanne had made up her mind to give Maureen the ultimatum- her or Him. And every single time, she chickened out. She could not lose Maureen, but every second that ticked by ate away at Joanne's heart. Knowing that every night, Maureen went home to Him, that every night it was HE who got to keep her warm and protect her and love her and satisfy her "needs" and God knows what else. Joanne knew Maureen would be better off with her. She would be treated right, treated like the queen she was. Her talent would be nourished, she would be properly fed and kept warm, and Joanne would love her like no one else could. Maureen would be hers and only hers. Not His. Never His. Just Hers.

Joanne had always been possessive.

And so here she sat, at a crossroads, in a tiny bar in Chelsea- the bar where she and Maureen first met. She sat long after Maureen had left to go back to Him, her emotions eating away at her soul. It had to be her or Him.

Her or Him.

Her or Him.

Her or Him.

Joanne sat, nursing the same drink until the bar closed, a chant running through her mind. Her or Him. Her or Him. Her or Him. It had to be. She would give the ultimatum, and that would be that. It would be up to Maureen to make the decision to her hers.

Joanne had always been possessive.

Her or Him.

Her or Him.

Her or Him.

Except Joanne knew that she would never give the ultimatum. She would forever be waiting for Maureen to leave His arms, waiting for her beloved to come to her.

Her or Him.

Her or Him.

Her or Him.

Joanne knew that she would stay for as long as Maureen would have her. She knew that He would stay for as long as Maureen kept Him. She could have both, and she knew it. Her Woman and her Man. Her passion and her security blanket. Her Love and her love. She would refuse to give up either.

Her or Him.

Her or Him.

Her or Him.

And because Maureen would not give Him up, it would continue to burn inside of Joanne. Slowly, a piece of her would die every time Maureen left her sight, every time she went back to Him.

Her or Him.

Her or Him.

Her or Him.

Joanne had always been possessive.