Title: Surprise
Spoilers: S2, before Angel returns from his Asshatty Beige period and after Wes recovered from being shot.
Summary: Wesley's birthdays were always like any other... Until Cordelia happened.
Pairing: Cordelia/Wesley (just friendship, though, sorry FG!)
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the Asshat, not me.
Dedication: For theferretgirl. It's not as schmoopy or anywhere as near as shippy as you probably would have liked but... Here. Fic. For you. Started about three months ago (ficcy story of my life, LMAO) and finished toniiiiight.
Authors Notes: Not betaed. Any mistakes are mine.
Authors Notes2: Yes, the title is lame. But it was the best I could come up with at short notice. SHUSH.
Authors Notes3: I borrowed Elijah Carnegie from a couple of books. 'Monster Island' and 'Endangered Species', I believe. He ain't mine, either.


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It was a day like any other, Wes noticed, pushing open the office door to a mixture of smells. Pine disinfectant, the lemon scented candles Cordelia had bought in a misguided effort to make the office smell nicer. Pointless, he mused, dropping his keys onto the table and glancing balefully at the list of things he'd planned to get done that day.

This week, they were all about making lists.

"We need to be more organised," said Cordelia, smiling that brightly efficient smile that said she was bored and in need of something to do, "We're scattered all over the place."

Wesley had raised an eyebrow at that. Scattered?

"Shut up," she told him firmly, "I'm well aware I've been spending way too much time with you guys. It's just..."

He watched her carefully, trying to pick her words.

"I need something to do, Wes. The Powers are being all slacky with the vision-giving and that just makes me antsy so in an effort to be less? I'm, like, reorganising."

Gunn had groaned when he'd heard that. They'd shared a look between them - an indulgent look, he supposed. Once Cordelia made her mind up about something it was ridiculous to even try and sway her, so determined she was in making it happen.

And there it was on his desk. The list.

Organise bookshelves. Sort weapons into something that resembled a collection and not just a jumble sale in the corner.

Boring things.

When he'd woke that morning, a full year older, Wes had followed tradition. A phone call to mother, a brief and stilted conversation with father and then an hour of self-flagellating, generally thinking that he wasn't good enough for anything, as father had suggested.

He could hear the sneers even now...

"Hey Wes."

He turned towards the voice, expected to see the same as last year, the bright coloured balloons, the box shaped presents-- And stopped short. "I... Morning Cordelia." He said, covering up his disappointment quickly. A closer look confirmed his worst fears. Cordelia looked wan, her face drawn and pinched. Usually, she'd have covered it up with a variety of colours, perfecting the fresh-faced look that he knew it took some women weeks to acheive. This morning, however, she just looked tired which could only mean one thing.

Vision.

"Are you all right?"

"You mean aside from the big scary featuring in my head on the way over to the coffee shop?" Cordelia asked, dropping her bag to the floor, "I nearly crashed my car, Wesley, and I'm thinking they don't do vision premiums on my insurance."

Guilt trickled through him. Here he was expecting a fuss for his birthday and Cordelia had almost crashed. He went to her side immediately. "Can I get you anything?"

From her bag she produced a bottle of pills and shook them half-heartedly, popping the cap, "Instant pain relief in a bottle," she joked, but Wesley knew that the pain relief was far from 'instant'.

"What did you see?"

"Demon," she said quietly, "Big purple thing. Kinda like the Judge but... Not."

"The Judge?" Asked Wesley, wondering if he'd missed some oblique pop culture reference again.

"Demon, dumbass," she said, a bemused smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "Sunnydale. Before your time."

"I see."

She pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "I didn't get much but... Remember that guy that Angel was always visiting for his mojo-whatsits?"

"Elijah?" Wesley asked, trying to keep the note of concern out of his voice. Elijah Carnegie was a very well-respected member of the supernatural community. He could take care of himself, to a point, though he didn't like to use magics these days following a rather serious addiction. "You saw Elijah?"

"I think I saw him," Cordelia nodded, "I've only met the guy twice but it looked like him."

Wesley sighed. It was impossible to get hold of Gunn at this time of the morning and, really, the only person they could rely on to help Elijah to a point where he would no longer help himself hadn't been interested in anything lately, other than blonde vampires and evil law firms. "I suppose I should get over there. Can you tell me anything else about this demon?"

"I wrote it down," said Cordelia, bending down to rummage in her bag for a piece of paper, "Y'know, I swear that Demon database gets slower every time I use it."

Wesley smiled tightly, watching as she emptied her contents across the floor, "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked, wondering if he'd ever understand how women carried so many things in such a small space.

"I told you, I'm fine-- Ah-ha!" She pulled the piece of paper from her bag and handed him it, "You want me to call Gunn?"

"Please." He nodded, glancing at the paper and doing a double take, "A Yenrab demon?"

"Problem?"

Wesley frowned, "Only that if I'm not mistaken there's only about three of these demons left in existence and they prefer less populated areas of the globe."

"That's definitely the thing I saw, Wes," said Cordelia, puzzled, "Want me to look again?"

"No, no, it'll be fine." He shook his head, taking a small Bavarian fighting sword from the 'jumble sale' on the floor, "Are you sure--"

"Wesley, if you finish that sentence I'll tear you a new one," Cordelia sniped, rolling her eyes, "Go already. I'm fine."

"Well, if you're sure..." He mumbled, ambling towards the door.

She shot him a smile as he neared and as soon as he'd gone through, Cordelia turned, picking up the phone. "Gunn, it's me," she said when finally he answered, "He's gone."

"He suspect anything?"

"Not even a little bit." Cordelia grinned, "Although that demon I sorta made up? Wes said they actually existed."

"Huh," said Gunn, amused, "I guess he would know." His tone changed to a much warmer one and Cordelia could almost imagine his smile, "English is gonna flip."

She pulled out her own list for that day, the one Wesley hadn't seen, "He'd better. I had to get up two hours early to make myself look even halfway like I'd had a vision. I guess it helped that some jackass almost plowed into me this morning, I was extra testy."

"An' that's different from any other morning?" Gunn joked.

"Ha ha, oh dry and funny one." Cordelia rolled her eyes, "Just make sure you keep him away from Caritas, okay?"

"On it, Barbie. I'll talk to you later."

Cordelia placed the receiver back in its holder and clapped her hands together. First things first? Get rid of the whole death-defying make up thing. Ewww.



- - - - - - - - - -



Six hours later and Wesley was no closer to finding Cordelia's demon than he was to buying Merl a drink for information well imparted. "I told you," the lizard-skinned demon whined, his voice high and grating, "I don't know nothin' about no Yernab demon. Don't matter how much you sweeten that, bubba," he pointed to the stack of notes on the side of his arm chair, "I got nothin'."

Wesley sighed. Nothing. Nada. Zip, in fact. Cordelia's visions had been vague lately, but this was getting beyond a joke. Literally. He'd tried Gunn's cell a number of times that afternoon, had even called by Caritas to see if Lorne could help with the vision, only to find that the Anagogic demon had gone to run a number of errands and wouldn't be back until later.

Elijah, the magician featured in Cordelia's vision, was nowhere to be found. He hoped the older man had somehow sensed whatever danger was coming his way and gone somewhere safe, but without knowing it for certain, Wesley couldn't let himself relax. He was worried.

He stood slowly, collecting the bundle of notes from the chair. If Merl did know something, he wasn't letting on.

"Hey, hey," Merl protested, standing quickly, "You don't have to--"

"Actually, I do," Wesley frowned, "Unless you have something that's actually of use to me..."

Five minutes later and he was back in his SUV, checking his phone for messages. Not a bloody one, he thought, frowning again. He had half a mind to go to the Powers and give them a piece of his mind, especially considering--

The sharp shrill of his cellphone broke into his thoughts and Wesley balked as he saw Cordelia's cell number displayed on the Caller ID. Perhaps he was too late. Perhaps the vision had come like some of the others, matched with a time frame, a small window of opportunity in which they could save whoever Cordelia's mind had been graced with that week.

He hit the 'accept call' button and listened as Cordelia's voice broke through, relief flooding him. She sounded okay for now, if a little tired. "We're at Caritas, Wes. Lorne has some information about that demon. Did you find--"

"Nothing, Cordelia," he interrupted, though it pained him to be the one to admit it, "I'll be there soon."


He drove hell for leather to get to Cordelia, receiving quite a few angry glares and tooted horns for his troubles, until he realised that getting there in one piece was very much imperative. He slowed down a fraction, cutting another driver off at the intersection before pulling into the parking lot of Caritas.

There were few cars there tonight, quite a change from the normal hustle and bustle it signified. Wesley frowned, sensing something was off but not sure what. It wasn't until he got inside that he grew concerned, drawing the stake from his back pocket and swallowing as he stepped down the staircase. The normally bright lights of Caritas were absent, no muscle standing at the door to check for weaponry.

Wesley's stomach plummeted. Something had happened, that much he was sure on. But what about Cordelia? Gunn? Lorne?

He steeled himself, ready for a fight should the situation call for it, and stepped down into Caritas, letting out a shriek as the lights came on and a yell of 'surprise' filled the room, Cordelia standing at the forefront, a grin on her face.

Wesley felt himself flush, his cheeks warming as he glanced around, noting the banner and table stacked with presents, the assortment of his friends gathered in the main area of the club.

Cordelia stepped forward first, followed by Gunn and then Lorne, pressing warm lips to his cheek. "Happy birthday, Wesley," she smiled, wrapping her arms around him.

He held on a fraction of a second longer than was necessary, still blushing from his head to his toes practically, and pulled back to look at her, his smile warm. "There was no demon, was there?" He asked.

Cordelia shook her head, "You're not mad at me, are you? Only you would know the one demon I actually make up..."

Wesley chuckled, more than amused, "You made that up? But it's a real demon..."

"Sure it is," she laughed, "If you like your demons big and purple and called 'Barney' backwards."

His mouth fell open. "You named a demon after a TV dinosaur?"

Cordelia just laughed again, saying that she didn't even want to know how he knew that totally geektackular reference and grinning as Gunn slapped him on the back and greeted him with a 'Happy birthday, dawg.'




Later on when Wesley had opened his presents, marvelled over the fact that Cordelia had managed to keep his party secret for a whole week even after buying the dress that gave her killer boobs, he sat there at one of the tables in Caritas, smiling at his small assortment of friends.

"Okay," said a familiar voice from behind him, "I don't know about birthday parties in England, but in this country? We usually celebrate them with a little more movement."

Wesley turned to look at Cordelia, his smile widening, "Are you asking me to dance, Cordelia?" He asked.

"Sure," she nodded as she reached out her hand, "I remember you were pretty good at that back in Sunnydale."

He took her hand gratefully and got up from his seat, heading out to the dancefloor. Dancing back in Sunnydale was one thing - the music was different, for a start. Cordelia looked as beautiful as she had then - if not more so - her hair lighter, shorter, her eyes twinkling as she stared at him. "I thought you'd forgotten," he admitted sheepishly, "This morning, when you came into the office?"

"Pffft! Me? Forget?" Her smile softened somewhat, "It was killing me - that look on your face? Geez, Wesley, way to make a girl feel guilty! It paid off though, right? You like your surprise?"

Wesley nodded, glancing over to see Lorne talking amicably with Elijah, Gunn dancing with Anne. "I do, Cordelia. Thank you." He smiled again, pulling her into a hug for just a second.

"Damnit, Wesley... Don't go getting all movie of the week on me," she demanded, pulling back and mock-glaring at him, "Oh... And happy birthday."



~ Teh End ~