[Author's Note: Yep, it's been awhile since I wrote in this thingy, but not until this morning did I know what the hell to do with it. I had Where-Did-I-Go-Right-block. So, thank you to Veronica for helping me work stuff out! And Britt, I know you've been all busy-full lately, so I thought I'd just go ahead and post this and not bother you. Love ya both!!]

Chris Chambers, kid brother to Eyeball Chambers, was standing at the door of the future valedictorian's cozy homespun house. He rapped on the door and waited. When no one answered, he leaned his forehead against the wood and muttered, "I just saw you go in…horny son of a bitch…just answer the fricken door, you oversexed--" He stumbled forward as the door swung open. "HI."

Brooke smiled. She rested her weight on her left side, and as she stood that way Chris could see all too well what his best friend saw in this girl. "Hi. I presume I'm not the one you want to see."

"Of course you're the one I want to see. But I want to talk to Gordie."

She laughed. It was weird, seeing Brooke Aarons laugh with such ease, like she didn't have a trace of that chip she used to have on her shoulder. She was happy, and it lit her up. "Come on in, he's up in my room."

"Ahh, right where you left him, chained to the bed, I suppose."

"Yes. I'm going to go make some hot chocolate, would you like some?"

"Are you going to pour the chocolate all over Gordie's naked body? Oh my God, why did I just have that thought?" Chris shuddered. "No thank you, Brooke. Oh my God. Where's your room?"

"Upstairs. It's the room with Gordie in it." She left him and disappeared into the kitchen.

Chris kicked off his snow-soaked shoes and climbed up the stairs, the plush carpet a strange feeling to his socked feet. He was used to ratty carpet marred with unknown stains. Instead of smelling like cigarette smoke and hangovers, the Aarons' house smelled like chicken broth. It was nice.

Finally, he located the room. He pushed open the half-closed door loudly; scaring the shit out of Gordie and making him fly up in the air like a terrified farmyard bird such as a chicken, or an emu. "Where's all the ropes and whips?"

"CHRIS!" Gordie yelled angrily. "What in God's name are you doing in Brooke's bedroom? Mother Christ! GOD, my fucking HEART!"

"That'll teach you to rifle through your girlfriend's underwear drawer when she steps out of the room for a moment," Chris said smugly.

"I wasn't rifling," he snapped.

"I hope you weren't modeling."

"I hate your fucking guts."

"Ah, you only say that because I caught you being evil."

"Yeah. What the fuck do you want?"

"Your advice."

"I am pretty wise, aren't I?"

"Yeah. So I'll just let you slip into something a little more comfortable…"

"If you are referring to Brooke's panties, which I was not examining (that closely), you may screw yourself."

Chris laughed. "Gordie, Gordie, Gordie. You certainly are funny when you're guilty."

Gordie frowned, but a smile slipped through when he met his best friend in the eye. He made himself comfortable on Brooke's bed, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his feet at the ankles. "All right, what do you need guidance in, young grasshopper?"

"Chicks."

"I got a hot one!"

Chris gave him a funny look.

Gordie's proud, loving smile faded, and he returned the funny look to Chris. "…You can't have her."

"I wasn't asking for her."

"Well then, ask away!"

"So, Molly's adorable, right."

"Yeah. Ya pedophile. I mean…she's a lucky girl!"

"We've already gone through the pedophilia bit," Chris said impatiently. "Anyway, I like Molly. I can see myself like taking her to movies and holding her hand and--"

"Shut up. I don't want to hear your goo."

"What the hell are you talking about my goo for? Gordie, that's wrroooong."

"I meant your corniness, asshole!"

"Oh. You shut up too then, I'm spilling my heart here." He cleared his throat, composing himself. "Back to my story. Molly is sweet. But Anya, pissed me off today. She was trying to be all supportive of Molly and me, but she obviously was sad about seeing me with someone else."

"So…"

"So I don't know what the fuck to do!"

"Okay." Gordie cracked his knuckles, and rearranged himself so that he was sitting in the lotus position. "So, you can see yourself with Molly, correct?"

"Yes."

"You can see her as your girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"And you love Anya."

Chris faltered. It wasn't as though he had to debate whether or not he loved her; it made him sad to think of the fact that they did in fact love each other, purely and honestly. "Yes."

"Well, there you go."

"There I go where?" Chris demanded. "There was no advice!"

"I've addressed your problem. You fix it."

"You lick balls!"

Gordie burst into laughter. "Sorry, Chris."

Chris glared.

"Hey, I can't tell you what to do on this. Just…you know. There you go. Go do it right. I think you know what it is you need to do."

"Are you doing psycho-babble?" he asked suspiciously. "You know the right answer, don't you? And you're not telling me because you're a dick face."

"No, I have no idea which one you should be with. But you do."

"How profound," he muttered.

"Thanks. I made it up on the spot." He grinned, effortlessly receiving a smile in return from Chris. "I can hear Brooke. Don't mention panties."

Brooke breezed into the room, holding two mugs of hot chocolate. As she handed one steaming cup to Gordie, she raised an eyebrow and asked, "What's this about panties?"

"Nothing."

"Goddammit Gordie, do I need to put a lock on all my drawers?"

"Just neuter him," Chris suggested. Gordie looked down at himself, his expression wounded. Laughing, Chris said, "But I should get going. I have matters to attend to."

"He means he needs to go about not getting any," Gordie said cheerfully.

"Much like you!" Brooke chirped, poking her boyfriend on the nose. "No wonder you two are such good friends!"

"What do you mean by that?" Gordie demanded. "Was that a crack at my sexual orientation? We're not gay. That wasn't funny."