A/N: Inspired by Rufus Wainwright- Hallelujah. I'm sorry. I, um… the insane possessive Wanda scene was fun to write.

"Do you want to hear me play a song?" Juandissimo asked, strumming a few notes on his guitar.

"Hmm? Oh. Not now, Juan. I'm busy." Cupid said, going back to his conversation on the phone. "Excuse you?! Valentine's Day is tomorrow! We need those arrows ready!"

"You are always busy." Juandissimo grumbled. "You pay even less attention to me than Wanda."

Cupid hung up the phone. "Now, what were you saying?"

"Nothing." Juandissimo said. "I was just leaving. You never really seem to notice I am there anyway."

"Juan…" Cupid began.

"No. This just is not working out. I'm sorry, Cupid, but maybe we should just be amigos." The Spanish fairy said.

Cupid sighed. "I'm sorry." He said.

Juandissimo was already gone. He just had rotten luck in love. It had never worked out for him before, so what made him think it would work this time?

When they'd first met, Wanda's beauty had stunned Cosmo. He'd been infatuated from first sight. But now she had stunned him in a different way.

"Wanda— stop!" Cosmo yelled. "S-stop, please! You've gone crazy!"

Wanda held a knife in her hand. Cosmo, in front of her, was tied to a chair. His eyes were wide in fear as he stared at her. "Crazy?" She laughed. "Ohhhh, no, Cozzie. Not crazy-y-y. I'm fine! Just fi-i-ine!"

He flinched as she grabbed him by his hair and stared at him. "I love you, Cozzie. And I just want you to be mi-i-i-ine! All mine!" She hissed, swinging the knife. It cut off a chunk of his green hair. She kept doing it, slicing at his hair. He felt tears running down his cheeks. He was scared of his own wife. How would Timmy and Poof feel if she killed him and they were left with her, crazy as she was now?

Then she pressed her lips against his in a kiss. He whimpered against her, and she smiled. "Mine," She whispered.

Sanderson sat on the floor in the familiar hall and looked up at the ceiling. He felt like he'd been here before, but he wasn't sure. Maybe. Maybe not. He couldn't remember.

He sighed. He should have known it would never work out. He was a pixie, after all. Pixies were meant to work, to be boring, not to have lovers. Back to living alone, like he always had.

Well, nobody ever said love was easy. But it had been said that love was a battlefield.

"Cozzeh?" Anti-Wanda asked. "Are yah' okay? Yah seem sad."

"I'm fine, dear." Anti-Cosmo sighed.

"Why don'tcha never tell me wha's wrong with ya no more?" Anti-Wanda sighed.

"Maybe you don't really know me." Anti-Cosmo said.

"Yer so weird now." Anti-Wanda mumbled. "I 'member when ev'rything we did ta'gether was amazin'. Now yer jus' weird an' ya never seem happeh, an' ya ignore me."

"…I'm sorry." Anti-Cosmo said.

"I jus' wish ya'd stop bein' weird an' be you again."

Remy Buxaplenty buried his face in his pillow and cried. He was such an idiot. He was in love… with someone who hated him. All because he'd been an ass to them. Timmy Turner. All he ever did was bully the boy. He didn't know how to show love, only hatred. So he'd lashed out.

He opened his eyes and looked around. Nobody. Even Juandissimo was out. He was alone. He screamed as loudly as he could. Love was no gift. It was a curse.