*****

"Angel, baby, honey, sweetie pie?" Lindsey's sugar-coated voice whispered sweetly in Angel's ear.

Angel groaned, rolled onto his stomach and buried his head underneath the pillow.

"Pumpkin?"

The vampire moaned and blindly pushed his lover away. "G'way."

A weight settled on Angel's back and lips began to gently kiss Angel's cheek, traveling down to his neck. "Wake up," Lindsey sang.

"What time is it?" Angel asked, trying to burrow deeper under the covers.

"Ummm, almost eleven."

The vampire rolled onto his back, dislodging his lover, and opened his eyes. "I didn't get home until almost six this morning and you want me up?" He yawned. "You're mean. G'way and lee'me sleep."

Lindsey maneuvered back on top of Angel's body, gazing into his lover's eyes. His own blue orbs were large and pleading. "I need you to do me a big favor."

"What?" Suddenly more awake then he wanted to be, Angel's sense went on the alert. Lindsey was being too nice, meaning he was up to something.

Kissing Angel's chest, Lindsey replied,"I need you," kiss, "to get Gunn," kiss, "out of the hotel," lick. "All day."

Angel laughed. "What?"

"Please?" Begging tone, innocence written across the beautiful face.

"Why?"

"It's a surprise." Very coy, very flirty.

"Lindsey," Angel said warningly.

The drag queen shook his head, tracing Angel's jaw with his index finger. "It's a surprise," he repeated, more firmly. "I need you to get him away, then make him go to Caritas tonight at about seven or so. Please? Please, please, please, please?" Lindsey began kissing Angel all over, squirming in a way that never failed to make Angel do what his lover asked.

"Why can't you just tell me? Does this have something to do with his birthday?" Angel wanted to know, closing his eyes as his body began to respond to his lover's attentions.

"If I tell you then you'll know and you'll act all weird and Gunn will find out. It has to be a secret." Lindsey kissed Angel deeply, his tongue delving in and out of his lover's mouth. "If you do this for me, I'll do that thing you like tonight." He whispered what he'd do in Angel's ear.

The vampire's cock immediately snapped to attention. "Can't you do it now?"

Smiling wickedly, Lindsey sat up. "If I do it *now *, you'll just roll over and go to sleep after I'm done. I need you to be in painful anticipation all day." Big blue eyes turned on full force looked at Angel. "Please? He's downstairs now, complaining about the coffee. I want him to get out."

Angel sighed. "I should leave you for this. Look at me, all aroused and you won't do anything about it." He got out of bed and stretched.

Lindsey threw himself on Angel, wrapping his legs around the vampire's waist, kissing him fiercely. "I just said I wouldn't do that* thing* now. This I can take care of. But," he paused looking at Angel with stern eyes, "when we're finished, you've got to get out. Take Gunn and, I don't know, make something up to do."

"I hate it when you are so eager to get rid of me," Angel responded, carrying his lover to the bathroom.

"Not eager. I just need you gone because I promised Wesley. It'll be worth it, I promise."

"It better be," Angel replied as he pressed Lindsey's naked body against the cool tiles of the shower. He reached out and turned the water on as Lindsey writhed against him. "In fact," he continued,licking Lindsey's neck,"I'm beginning to think it's worth it all ready."

* * *

"So, what's this about, any way?" Gunn asked as he and Angel went to the car. They were taking Lindsey's car, which had tinted windows and a roof, so Angel wouldn't turn into a pile of dust.

"I don't know. Lin wanted me to get you out of the way. He and the others are planning something."

Gunn stopped. "Planning something? Like what?"

Angel shrugged. "He wouldn't tell me. It's a surprise."

"Did you try and get it out of him?"

"Sort of. But he's really good at distracting me."

Gunn shook his head and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "whipped," but Angel decided not to pursue it.

"It won't be a wasted day. I didn't tell him, but last night, I got a tip on Lilah Morgan's disappearance. You know how we've been figuring that Wolfram and Hart had something to do with it?"

"Yeah. Job security sucks there."

"Well, now I'm thinking they didn't do it. Rumor on the street is a major vampire player rolled into town a few weeks ago, the week-end we were out of town chasing the Kronkite demon. That is also the week-end that Lilah disappeared."

Gunn unlocked the door and slid inside the car. "This vampire wouldn't be one of your family members, would it?"

"Yeah, it is. Drusilla."

"Why would she want a lawyer?"

"Who knows why Dru acts the way she does? Except, she's alone now; maybe she wants a companion."

Gunn shook his head. "Whatever. Still say the only good vamp is a dead one, present company excluded, of course. Where to?"

"Let's start at her apartment, go from there. Maybe there's a clue or something to where she is. But we've got to get back by seven or Lindsey will kill me. Or worse."

"Worse?"

Angel grinned. "Yeah, worse. Like, him not putting out tonight. He promised me that he'd . . ."

"Yo, dude. Trust me when I say I do *not * want to hear the rest of the sentence. Let's just go."

* * *

"I've changed my mind. I can't do this," Wesley announced.

Cordelia dropped the make-up kit she was holding on the vanity. "You can't change your mind, not now."

"No, really, I can't do this. I don't know what I was thinking. I never should have . . . I can't."

Lindsey walked in the room. "What's going on?" he asked seeing that Wesley was near tears.

"He wants to back out."

"Lindsey, please. I can't do this," Wesley begged.

The drag queen walked over to Wesley and put his hands on his shoulders. "Yes, you can. You're going to be great. Trust me, Gunn is going to love it." On seeing that Wesley was still panic stricken, Lindsey added, "Wes, you've been planning to do this for a month. Don't back out now."

"But. . ."

"No buts. You're doing it. Come." Taking Wesley's hand in his, Lindsey led the former Watcher to the seat in front of the vanity. "First, your dress," he said, pushing Wesley into the seat. Turning to the seer, he said, "Cordelia?"

The seer opened the closet and pulled several dress bags from the closet. "Ok, I took your sizes to the store and got all these. They're rentals, but they lady said she'd be willing to sell one if you liked. I didn't know what size breasts you were going to chose, so I got a few different bust sizes. I'm thinking nothing too big, though."

Lindsey opened one of the drawers to the vanity and pulled out fake breasts. Holding a pair up to Wesley's chest, he squinted and said, "I think these will be all right." He held them out for Cordelia to study. "That's the bust size I envision him having, at least."

Wesley's face turned red from embarrassment.

"I like." Cordelia said after studying them. "Ok, so that rules out these two." She placed two dresses back in the closet. Unzipping the remaining bags, she presented them to Wesley and Lindsey.

Lindsey walked over and studied the dresses. "No,no, no," he said, pointing to three.

"May I ask what was wrong with those three?" Wesley said.

"Oh, did you like them?"

The former Watcher squirmed. He didn't want to seem like he had bad fashion taste, not with both Lindsey and Cordelia in the room. "Not exactly, but why did you reject them out of hand?"

"Too many sequins, too many feathers, and that last one is see- through," Lindsey replied. "You, my darling, are not a garish girl. You are a beautiful girl who does not feel the need to go overboard. Your looks will make men come in droves and therefore, you do not need to stoop to gaudy accessories or cheap baubles. Even if you chose this one," he pointed to a black leather number with a very low neckline and very high hem-line, " and do slutty, you will still look innocent and lady-like. It can't be helped. Wesley, you were born a lady. Those three would clash with your looks."

"Oh. Well, the ones left are very nice." Wide gray eyes studied the remaining dresses.

"So, what do you want to be, Wes? Slutty the tramp or a glam queen?" Cordelia asked, holding her arms out to present the dresses.

Wesley shook his head. "I don't know. I . .nothing. I want nothing. I'm not doing this." He rose uncertianly, almost as if he were really planning on leaving.

"Stage fright," Lindsey said dismissively. "Wesley, baby, you can't back out because you're nervous. It's not allowed. Slut or glam?"

The poor man sighed. "What do you recommend?"

Lindsey and Cordelia exchanged glances. They reached an unspoken agreement.

"Well," Cordelia began, "you'd make a fantastic slut."

"But you might be more comfortable as a glamour gal," finished Lindsey.

"All right. I guess, a glam?" He still sounded very uncertain.

"Do you see a dress you like?"

The gray eyes immediately latched onto one dress, but Wesley said, "I'm not sure."

Smiling, Lindsey grabbed the dress Wesley was eyeing and brought it over. "This one would look fabulous on you. Turn around."

Wesley turned, facing the full mirror. Lindsey came from behind him and held the dress in front of Wesley's body. "Beautiful. What do you think?" Lindsey had to stand on his toes to see over Wesley's shoulder.

"I think . . .I think I like it." Wesley relaxed ever so slightly. He fingered the dark satin carefully. "I believe that . . . that my mother had a dress like this once." The hand ran up to the neckline, tracing it gently. "Yes, I like this one very much."

"And your vote, Cordelia?" Lindsey called to his friend.

"It's a keeper," she said from the floor.

Lindsey's head snapped around. He let go of the dress and stalked over to her. "No!" Snatching his red satin shoes from her grasp, he left the room.

"Damn him. He won't even let me try them on." She rose and took the dress from Wesley. Hanging it on the wardrobe, she remarked, "Gunn's going to flip when he sees you, Wes. Really. Have you decided on a song?" She went over to the dresser and rummaged through the top drawer, pulling out various gloves, comparing the colors to the dress.

Wesley was shifting his weight. "No, not really. Well, instead of a song, I think I should just go with "Happy Birthday" and leave it with that."

"No," Cordelia said, shaking her head. She faced him. "You can't just sing "Happy Birthday!" You have to let him know how you feel!"

"What's that?" Lindsey asked, walking back in.

Cordelia held out a pair of gloves, which he immediately approved.

"Wesley doesn't know what he's going to sing," she told Lindsey.

"Wesley!"

"I'm not a singer, Lindsey. Charles and I don't have a song, so I just . . .I don't know."

Lindsey rolled his eyes. "I know you're not a singer. It's not supposed to be good, necessarily, just . . . sexy. That's all that matters." He sighed. "Didn't I tell you that Angel told me that Gunn told him that he thinks you would look great in drag and that he would love to see you on stage singing to him?"

Wesley turned beet red. "Well, yes, but he could have been joking. Comparing boyfriends and all."

"We all know how very proud Gunn is of you; he wouldn't say something if he didn't mean it. Right now, his kink is that he wants you, in a dress, on stage, singing just for him. And that's what he's getting for his birthday." Lindsey bit his lip. "We need to find you a song."

Wesley ran a hand through his hair. "Well," he said hesitantly, "I might have something. I like the song. I know it and I think I might be able to sing it. And it's on the play list at Caritas, so if I forget the words, I can read them."

"Good." Crisis solved, Lindsey walked to the dresser and pulled a pair of stockings from the drawer. Eyeing the length of Wesley's legs, he put them away.

"I've got some," Cordelia said, pulling a new pair from her shopping bag. "I knew nothing you had would fit him. And, a brand new garter belt too." She waved it over at Wesley.

He paled. "Oh dear God."

Lindsey grinned. "Come on. Let's do your make-up."

Cordelia bounced and practically flew to the make-up table. "I've always wanted to do your face, Wes."

"Oh?" Wesley asked, allowing Lindsey to sit him back down in the chair and face the mirror.

"Yes, except during that brief period that I thought wanted you. You, Wesley, are so pretty. In a manly way, of course, but I've just always wanted to see *how * pretty you'd look in make-up." She sat on the vanity in front of Wesley, placed her feet on his thighs, and studied his face intently. "Linds, honey, get him a wig."

"Delia, baby, don't order me around," Lindsey responded, walking to the wig cupboard. "And, by the way, I saw the peanut butter on the black wig."

She blushed. "I can explain."

"Trust me, Lindsey, you don't want to hear it. Never ask her anything about peanut butter," Wesley warned, striving for a moment of male solidarity in this unfamiliar and uncomfortable world he found himself in.

Lindsey opened the wig cupboard. Inside were over twenty wigs, all mounted on heads and styled to perfection, all different colors. He selected one that matched Wesley's hair color while saying, "But, Wesley, that's what Cordelia and I *do. * Girlfriends share intimate secrets like this."

"Oh," Wesley said faintly, blushing again. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." Ever so slightly, Wesley retreated, feeling very alone and out of his element.

Cordelia flipped the vanity lights on, illuminating Wesley's face. "Oh my God," she gasped. "Lindsey, look."

"What?"

"Look at him!"

Lindsey walked to them, put the wig down, and leaned to investigate. "Bastard," he breathed.

"What's wrong?" Wesley asked, alarmed.

"You, my friend, have beautiful skin." Lindsey took hold of Wesley's chin, studying him closer. "It's flawless."

"Can we kill him?" Cordelia asked.

"Naw. It'd be a shame to ruin such perfection." Lindsey leaned his elbows on Wesley's shoulder, resting his chin on Wesley's silky hair. "Fess up; what do you use to make your skin so great?"

"Nothing, just soap. Really."

Cordelia and Lindsey looked at each other. "Tickle attack?"

"Do it."

As a team, they attacked Wesley.

"Stop!" he yelped, falling out of the chair. He was laughing so hard his face turned purple. Trying to fight them off, he gasped, "I don't . . .do anything . . I . . ." He broke off in a fit of laughter, curling up into a ball.

"You are such a liar!" Cordelia announced, managing to slip her hands in between his chest and stomach, tickling the sensitive skin of his stomach.

Wesley tried to push her away, but Lindsey was attacking him too. It proved to be too much. "Stop! Stop! I'll tell, I'll tell!"

"Oh, goody!" Lindsey stopped tickling.

Wesley, gasping for air, sat up. "I do a scrub three times a week, lotion every night, and only wash with this stuff my mother used to buy from France."

"Do you give yourself facials?" Cordelia asked.

"Once a week I do a mud mask."

She sighed. "It's still not fair. My skin will never look that good." She sighed again, very melodramatically. "Oh, well, let's get started." Cordelia rose and went to the vanity. Selecting a base and a sponge, she faced Wesley.

The Watcher, much more relaxed now that he had been attacked, accepted into this strange club that Cordelia and Lindsey had formed, sat in the chair and allowed Cordelia to start applying his make-up.

"Delia? How'd the peanut butter get in the wig?" Lindsey asked as he began to help paint Wesley into glamor girl perfection.

Cordelia grinned wickedly. "Well, Anne was on her seventh day straight at the shelter and I decided that she needed a little distraction, so . . . ."

Wesley groaned, but submitted to the tale of two beautiful women, a black wig, and a jar of peanut butter with all the grace of a true gentleman.

*****
Part 2:

Gunn shook his head. "Do you think she was that stupid?"

"I don't know." He studied the book. "This is dated a week after Lindsey quit. She disappeared three weeks ago, so that puts this entry at, what? About two months ago? Two and a half?"

"Yeah, about that. So, if she did call Dru right after she wrote that, Drusilla didn't act right away."

"Right. So either she lulled Lilah into a false sense of security or . . .or Lilah left willingly."

Gunn sat on the bed. "That's assuming she did respond. She may have ignored Drusilla, then Dru came after Lilah."

"True." Angel walked around the room, trying to find some sense of what was going on. He flipped through the pages. His eyes widened. "No, she contacted Dru."

"How do you know?"

Angel tossed the book to Gunn. The young warrior whistled. "What was she doing? Planning on selling this to an adult book company?"

"Vampire sex does sell."

"Christ," Gunn said, eyes wide as he continued to read. "I didn't know you could *do * some of this stuff." He flipped the pages. "Ok, I think I've found a clue, 'Drusilla is beginning to get insistent. She wants to leave L.A. for awhile. She says she wants some time, alone with me, without the fear of the firm or Angel. Dru said if I go with her, she will take me to a truly evil place for lots of fun.' A truly evil place?" He turned the page. " 'She'll even buy me a hat.'? What the hell does that mean?"

Angel closed his eyes. "She wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?"

"Take Lilah to Disneyland to change her." Angel sounded tortured.

"You want to run that by me again?"

Angel sighed. "It's one of her fantasies. To change someone at Disneyland. Back in Sunnydale, she wanted Willow. Said she would take her in the Haunted Mansion, hide in there, make her one of us."

Gunn rose. "You think Lilah knew that was planned? Says here that 'My talented lover promised to make it worth my while if I ride "It's a Small World" with her.' I mean, that don't exactly scream 'she's gonna change me!' More like, 'we're gonna fuck while little dolls sing.'"

"I don't know. Lilah never struck me as one who would willingly turn vampire, at least not yet. She's got too much of a future as a lawyer." He ran a hand through his hair. "Let's go through her things, see what's missing. Get an idea if she had time to pack things. . .'

"Like sexy underwear."

"Or left without the essentials," Angel finished, ignoring Gunn's remark. "I'm going to call Kate, have her drive down to Disneyland, question the workers and see if anything weird has happened in the past few weeks that didn't make it into the news."

"Sounds like a plan. Then what are we going to do? We'll have a few hours before you need to take me where you're going to take me."

Angel shrugged. "I don't know. Want to catch a movie?"

"Sure, sounds good."

"Let's finish up here, then we'll see what's good playing."

"It's a plan.

* * *

"I think shaving my legs is a bit extreme," Wesley said, holding the robe Lindsey had lent him tightly closed.

"We could wax them," Cordelia responded.

"It's just for one night. I'm not a professional. I don't care what happens to the pantyhose."

"Hey!" Lindsey objected. "They are stockings, not pantyhose. Show some respect." He thrust his lower lip out, pouting. "What's the point of doing this if you don't go all out?"

Wesley began to breathe heavily with anxiety. "I just don't think.. . .I'll look odd, that's all."

"Wesley, you're wearing a pink silk robe and make-up right now. Shaving your legs won't make you look any weirder," Cordelia told him. She held the razor and shaving gel out to him, a determined expression on her face.

Sighing in defeat, he took them and went into the bathroom. The door slammed shut. A moment later, Lindsey and Cordelia could hear the water running.

"Ha! You owe me five bucks," Cordelia sang, flouncing over to the vanity. She chose a bottle of nail polish and sat on the floor.

"Fine." He pulled the money out and tossed it at her. Sitting in front of her, he took the nail polish, shook it, then began to paint her nails. "I really didn't think he'd go for it. Not every man will shave his legs, not even for a lover. I guess I underestimated your power of persuasion."

"You know, I think it's kind of sexy when men have smooth legs." Cordelia leaned in, dropping her voice conspiratorially. "One time Xander went out for the swim team and he shaved his legs so he'd go faster. I was *so* turned on."

"Does Anne shave her legs?"

She nodded. "It's even sexier on her."

"Oh, bugger!" Wesley shouted from the bathroom. The door flew open. "I cut myself!" Blood was seeping down his leg from the knee.

"Do you want me to do it for you?" Cordelia offered.

"No, thank you. I just wanted to show you the reason this was a bad idea."

"Hey, Wes, you're getting blood on the carpet," Lindsey said. "Angel really doesn't like that; it makes him hungry. And, don't worry; it'll be all right. After all, no pain, no gain." On seeing Wesley was unconvinced, Lindsey switched tactics. Softening his voice, he remarked dreamily, "Just imagine tonight when you're in bed with Gunn and he's running his strong hand up your smooth leg, all the way up to . ."

The door slammed shut again.

"Did his *legs* blush?" asked Lindsey.

"I think so."

The two friends giggled and continued with the manicure.

* * *

"Why are we here?" Gunn demanded, as Angel stopped the car in front of Caritas.

"This is where Lindsey told me to bring you."

"Ah, Christ. He's not going to make me go up on stage or anything, is he?"

Angel shrugged. "I have no idea. I can't even promise it'll be ok. You just have to trust Lady Lindsey."

"Well, I don't. I think he's crazy." Gunn sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Will Wesley be here?"

"I think so."

Shaking his head, obviously wanting to be anywhere except the bar, Gunn sighed. "Fine, let's go in."

* * *

"Oh, baby doll, you look gorgeous!" Lorne gushed, running his bright red eyes over Wesley.

Wesley, extremely uncomfortable, flushed bright red and closed his coat around him. "I feel like a fool."

"Wesley, baby, you look fine. Gunn's going to love you," Lindsey soothed, trying to wrest the coat off of his friend.

Cordelia and Anne entered the back-stage area, carrying a cake. "Is he having second thoughts again?" Cordelia asked, tossing her hair back. She was dressed up as well, only in one of Lindsey's platinum blond wigs and a skimpy tank top and mini-skirt.

"More like tenth thoughts," Lindsey replied. "Keep him back here. I'll go on first. You two calm him down." He ran and hand over his outfit, then reached for Wesley. Squeezing his shoulders, he said, "You are going to be great, Wesley. Gunn is going to love you."

Wesley took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Yes. All right. I can do this. For Gunn."

Lorne leaned against the wall, his body close to Wesley's. "You can do this for me any time," he said softly.

Lindsey whacked the Host on the head. "He is spoken for; get your own doll. Now, go out there and introduce me."

Making a face, Lorne went on stage, muttering, "Damn queens."

Said queen grinned. "Here we go! Break a leg, Wes."

Wesley whimpered softly.

* * *

"When I have a brand new hairdo With my eye lashes all in curls I float like the clouds on air do I enjoy being a girl," Lindsey crooned, parading across the stage in a skanky black leather dress and knee-high boots.

"He's hyper tonight," Gunn remarked. "Dude, you are drooling on the table! That's disgusting!"

Angel, who couldn't tear his eyes away from Lindsey, closed his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Why do you say he's hyper?" he asked, trying to be polite.

"When he's really hyper, he sings show tunes. When he's in a normal mood, he sings eighties and nineties pop and when he's horny it's country or blues."

"I'm glad you know so much about my boyfriend's habits."

"We come here every week. Of course I know about his habits."

Angel opened his mouth to answer when Lindsey began doing something interesting on a chair, arresting the vampire's attention completely.

"Speaking of boyfriends, where the *hell * is mine? It's my birthday and all I want is to have a drink in a normal bar, Wesley by my side. Instead, I've been dragged here after spending the day on the trail of some stupid lawyer bitch who got herself kidnapped and taken to Disneyland and forced here to watch some fairy fey flit around on stage singing about how much he loves being a girl!"

"Honey, calm down," Lorne said, walking to the table. "I can hear you half way across the room. You're upsetting the customers. Don't worry, you're boyfriend will be coming up soon."

Gunn's eyes widened with horror. "He's not going to do anything stupid like sing me Happy Birthday, is he?"

Lorne grinned. "Just wait," he said in a tone that did anything but sooth, eyes glinting evilly.

The fabulous Lady Lindsey finished her song. As the patrons, including Angel, wildly applauded her, she curtsied modestly, before lifting the microphone once again to her bow shaped lips. "Thank you, everyone. Now, please give a big hand for a friend of mine, the wonderful Wesley Whyndam-Pryce."

Silence. Lindsey glanced back at the curtains. He was about to go back stage when someone shoved a very nervous Wesley out. The poor Watcher ran a terrified eye over the crowd, unable to move. Lindsey took his hand, placed the microphone on, and queued the machine to the correct song.

"Oh. My. God," Gunn gasped, his jaw hitting the table.

"This is for Ch-Charles," Wesley said in a quavering voice. "The l- love of my l-life."

"Wow," Angel said. "He looks. . .nice."

"Nice is an understatement, Angel."

The dress that Lindsey had helped Wesley choose was indeed perfect. The deep midnight blue satin that brushed the tops of Wesley's matching blue heeled pumps complemented his complexion perfectly. Tiny straps cross his pale, smooth shoulders. The dress was slit to mid-thigh, revlealing white lace stockings and a rhinestone ankelt around a perfeclty turned ankel. White stin gloves, elbow hight, completed the outfit.

The rest of the ensemble was stunning as well. Beautifully shaped breasts filled the top of the dress out, swelling perfectly. A pearl necklace encircled the elegant neck, matching the pearl earrings hanging from Wesley's ears. The hair was dark brown, curly, and done elegantly. Gray eyes, borrowing color from the dress, shone from beneath lashes that extended a mile. His shiny lips parted, revealing pearly white teeth.

Nice was indeed an understatement.

The music started. Taking a deep breath, Wesley gripped the microphone firmly and began singing.

"Why do birds suddenly appear
every time you are near?
Just like me. They long to be
close to you."

Angel winced at Wesley's slightly off key, shaking delivery of the song. He glanced at Gunn to see if the young street fighter minded, but wisely decided not to say anything. Gunn was gazing at his lover as if he had never seen him before, as a predator eyes his prey: hungrily through stormy eyes.

Meanwhile, Wesley had found Gunn in the crowd. Eyes locked on Gunn, the rest of the room melted away. Tossing his hair and displaying his leg through the slit like Lindsey had encouraged him, he continued,

"Why do stars fall down from the sky
every time you walk by?
Just like me they long to be close to you."

Lindsey walked to the table, smiled at the Host, and sat in Angel's lap. "How's he like it?" he asked, nodding towards Gunn.

"Shhh!" Gunn fired fiercely, eyes still on Wesley.

"Oh," Angel whispered, nibbling on Lindsey's ear, "I think he likes it just fine."

Wesley finished the song, bowed for the smattering of applause, then said, "Happy Birthday, Charles. I . . ."

He never got to finish what he was saying because as soon as he had stopped, Gunn leapt from the table and barreled to the stage. On reaching it, he grabbed his lover and threw Wesley over his shoulder. Without another word, he left Caritas, his prize in hand.

"Well," said Lorne, "I don't think any of you need me to tell you what is in that boy's future for tonight."

"Hey!" Cordelia complained, walking from back stage. "He left without the cake!"

Anne, her lips swollen, hair mussed, emerged from back stage as well, carrying the cake, complete with candles. "Somehow, I don't think he's going to miss it," she soothed, smiling.

Lindsey waved the two women over. "I think we should have a toast. To the wonderful Wesley Whyndam-Pryce: may his lover enjoy his shoes as much as my lover does mine," he said with a wicked grin.

The rest of the table lifted their glasses. "To the wonderful Wesley."

~Fin~