A/N: This one is for… well, Fae. I don't know how often I'll update, but seeing as writing is used as a bribe for her, I may actually write on this semi-semi-consistently. Maybe. Quack.

Everybody needs someone, anyone really, to see them as beautiful no matter what. Someone who can look at them when they've cried their heart out, haven't showered in a week, and have hair possessed by the devil and still see beauty. Perhaps more accurately, it's that we all need someone who can see inside us regardless of what's on the outside.

Me, I have Fae. She has me, too. Reciprocation tends to happen in this instance. She will always tell me I'm fabulous no matter what. I will always do the same. Most importantly, we both will always mean it.

"...and then he gets in the bathtub in the dress and lipstick and..." she's jabbering on the phone and I'm dutifully listening. I've lost track of what she's really saying, but I listen to the words nonetheless. I think she's talking about a movie. Seems likely, I can hear the TV still going in the background.

"Sex." I interrupt. I know this will get her attention. It will get the attention of pretty much anyone I've ever met. I find that particular combination to be one of the most powerful set of three letters I've ever found.

"Did you?" Certainly got her attention.

I laugh, "Do you think you wouldn't know by now? You'd probably know before he did." Down to the millisecond, this probably isn't true. However as a result of (or possibly a cause of) seeing inside despite the outside, we are pretty much as close as it gets in terms of telling each other things. Therefore, it is always safe to assume that whatever I know, she knows and vice versa. And it happens pretty instantly. We're not ones to keep each other waiting.

"Well, then why'd you say it?"

"Possibly just for the hell of it. The word is very exciting sounding. It has an X at the end."

"So does box. How exciting is the word box?"

With anyone else, this rebuttal would cause her to win (if indeed this was a winning sort of discussion). However, it was me she was talking to.

"If you're homeless, a box could be very exciting."

"Are you homeless?"

I click my tongue at her and instantaneous spark regret in her. If only the tongue click worked as well as the word "sex" with all people.

She regretted the homeless comment and apologized immediately. The problem however, had to do with the fact that my rent had just gone up and my income had just gone down. To nothing. Directly following her apology came the speech that I mouthed along with the phone; I'd heard it a few too many times, I suppose.

"They had no right to fire you like that. They didn't even have a reason! You are the best damn worker they could get; you know that company better than you know yourself. If I'd been your boss, everyone in that place would be on their knees in front of you chanting that they are not worthy!"

Only in my dreams, Fae. Luckily for me, now I got to sleep in.

I woke to a passionate deliverance of the second half of Bohemian Rhapsody. While there were perks like the sometimes magical appearance Ben & Jerry's in my freezer, there were very unfortunate downsides to giving your best friend a key to your apartment.

"Beezelbub has a devil set aside for me, for me, for meeeeeeeeeeee!" She actually hit the note, but the note was so ear piercing and painful I would have preferred her to go off tune.

"Go away," I mumbled at her. Mumbling was my best defense. Unfortunately, it came out sounding like "Guh-wah-wah!"

"Rise and shine, pillow-face! We're going to find you a new job!" Oh, the cheerfulness was painful. "And I brought you a muffin for breakfast!"

I whined, sounding entirely pathetic and child-like. Possibly that was the point. "I wan' b'ue'b'ry waffles!"

Fae sees me as beautiful no matter what, thank God, so while most people would have given up at this point, she cooed at me. Like a pigeon. Sort of. In a strange way, it was very soothing and it settled me nicely.

A sharp knock on the door brought me to attention, minus the salute. It was a prairie dog sort of attention, really, not a military one.

"Who is it?" Fae, the all powerful morning goddess, coo-er of me, and faithful door answer-er.

"Allan." Oh dear. Allan, wielder of the most terrifying weapon ever to cross with an unemployed woman: the eviction notice!

"The mistress of the house is unavailable at the moment, can I take a message, sir?"

He sighed. Truth is, Allan really was not a bad guy. He's easygoing, patient when I spend too much of my paycheck too early, and he let me do whatever I wanted with my apartment. His now. "Look, she's got a few days, I'm not knocking her out right now. I heard how she lost her job and all and I'm really sorry, it's just that I still have to charge her rent if I'm going to keep the whole place and I've got a lot of tenants moving out and such and if she can't pay, I can't afford not to rent out to someone else." The worst part was, he was being totally sincere.

Fae's reply surprised me, "I know. I really hope things work out for you. We're going to get you whatever she owes you and then she'll be out in two days. She's moving in with me."

I what?

It took me a half hour to fully awaken and really process what she'd told Allan. I love Fae. Really. She is my best friend, my other half--more so than any man ever was or could be, and she knew me better than anyone including myself. It's very common, therefore, that she makes decisions on my behalf and I make them for her. Usually we know what's best for each other and we don't question the decisions. This one, however, seemed a bit momentous to have been made without any consultation whatsoever. It occurred to me that she'd simply blurted out the first thing that came to mind, but the problem was she usually meant those things, no matter how little contemplation was involved.

"Fffuh?" She'd run to the store while I found clean clothes. I got blueberry waffles for breakfast as a result.

"Yes, my darling waffle eater?" I don't know. When we're together, these things just bubble up out of our mouths with no thought whatsoever.

I swallowed, wanting to make sure she understood me, "Why did you tell Allan I was moving in with you?"

She looked at me, surprised, "Well, aren't you?"

"Did something happen that I don't remember?"

A shrug, "You lost your job and are apparently unmarketable. You can't pay your rent and you need somewhere to live. I have a job, my rent is less than yours and I can afford it, and my couch is very comfortable. Or you could share the bed."

I processed this over a bite of waffle. It was a good bite. "Fae, do you know why your rent is less than mine? Your place is smaller than mine! We're never going to survive. This will be disastrous, catastrophic, homicidal!"

She raised an eyebrow, "Homicidal."

I mumbled something incoherent, possibly regarding the limits of her sanity, and focused intently on my waffle to avoid further conversation. She wandered off to other parts of the apartment.

That strange quack of packing tape being ripped off the roll drew me to my bedroom like a mating call. I was slowly coming into my awakeness, but I was still as clumsy as newborn Bambi as I fumbled my way to the bedroom. Fae was sitting in the corner surrounded by large and hideous brown cardboard boxes, carefully and cheerfully sorting my things. Quack. She sealed another.

"Fae!"

"Yes, dearest pumpkin tart?" She compressed a box full of sweaters with her elbow to make room for two more.

This was terrible. "That orange sweater is hideous."

She grinned. It was an evil grin, one I was unfortunately all too familiar with. "Yes, darling, I know. I bought it for you." Quack.

There was no getting out of this. Without the sudden appearance of a rainbow, its end, and a very generous leprechaun, I would have to move out of my apartment. With no place else to go, I would have to move in with Fae. Sighing, I squinted at her. Crouched in the corner of my bedroom holding my jewelry box, I supposed she was the closest to a leprechaun I was going to get.

Quack.