A loud clattering and the jangling crash of glass against marble woke Wesley. He started upright and rubbed his eyes in confusion, still too fuzzy-minded from sleep to be sure if the noises had been from reality or a dream. His books lay spread out before him on his desk, lit by a small reading light; obviously he had dozed off. Pushing his glasses back into place, he stood and moved cautiously towards his office door. The Hyperion, or as much as he could see of it through the blinds, was dark and empty. He selected a nearby sword from the wall. Best to be prepared.

He crept into the lobby. His bare feet were cold against the marble floor, but they gave him the small advantage of silence. His mind cleared, the adrenaline a more effective stimulant than any coffee. He blinked, then frowned with annoyance at the fingerprints that smeared his lenses. Typical, he thought, but at least it wasn't demon slime. Yet.

The thought of demons drew him from the distraction of his glasses. He edged along the reception desk, sword raised. Whoever, whatever had invaded the hotel, he was prepared for them.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder and he practically leapt out of his skin. He spun around, drawing his sword back to swing, then stumbled in surprise as Angel called out, "Wes, wait, don't step--" and a sharp pain shot through his foot as he landed. He winced and tottered backwards, only to wince again and a third time as he walked onto a floor full of broken glass. He froze, not wanting to make things worse but unable to find a safe place to step.

"--on the glass," Angel finished. He dropped the oversized black bag he'd been holding and moved to help Wesley. His shoes crunched over the broken pieces of what had until recently been a large and decorative glass vase. Angel held Wesley by the arms and guided him slowly to the couch. The sword's tip scraped the floor as Wesley sat down, still holding tight to its handle.

Angel took one look at Wesley's feet and grimaced. "Let me just..." he said, and hurriedly retrieved the first aid kit. They kept it well-stocked, and within moments Angel had Wesley's feet on his knees and a pair of tweezers in his hand.

Wesley gripped the sword tighter.

"I'm really sorry about this," Angel said, as he carefully extracted one of the larger splinters. It glinted red as he placed it on a piece of gauze. "I didn't know you were up. The lights were out," he explained, glancing up apologetically between extraction attempts.

Wesley gritted his teeth and nodded. "I wasn't," he said, then hissed slightly as Angel probed to get at a deeper splinter. "Up," he finished, as the tweezers withdrew.

"Only a couple more to go," Angel said. "I was trying to surprise you."

"With broken glass?"

"What? No, with... the surprise you weren't supposed to see until tomorrow," Angel explained. He glanced at the clock. "Today. Later."

"Oh. Ah!" Wesley bit his lip as the peroxide fizzed in his wounds.

"Sorry," Angel repeated. He smeared some ointment on the soles of Wesley's feet and wrapped them carefully. When he finished, he lightly kissed the bandages.

Wesley arched an eyebrow. "Kissing it better?"

"Isn't that the best medicine?" Angel looked up, smiling hopefully.

"I believe that's laughter," corrected Wesley. "And when you were a child they hadn't yet worked out the concept of antibiotics."

Angel gripped Wesley's legs and pulled him closer. "You'd rather get shots than kiss me?"

Wesley kissed him. He let the sword drop with a clatter. "So what's this about a surprise," he murmured.

"If I told you," Angel said, "it wouldn't be a surprise."

"Don't you think you've already ruined that part?"

Angel shook his head. "Later. Besides," he said, looking down at Wesley's bandaged feet, "now we'll have to wait to enjoy it."

Wesley gave Angel his best pout, but it was clear his lover would not be moved. "Fine," he sighed. "Later I'll pretend I didn't see you sneaking any large, bulky objects into the hotel in the middle of the night. Shall I also pretend that I know nothing about how Cordelia's flower vase was demolished?"

"She's gonna kill me," sighed Angel.

"Probably not, but just in case I'd hide her favourite stakes before she arrives."

"You know, if someone had just been in bed like he was supposed to be, then I could just say some demon broke it. And why weren't you in bed like you were supposed to be?"

Wesley shrugged. "I needed to look something up about that nest of burrower demons we encountered last week." Angel just stared at him. Wesley crossed his arms. "I woke up and you weren't there, and since I wasn't about to fall back to sleep I decided I might as well get some work done." Angel continued to look at him sceptically. "Fine," he sighed. "I woke up and you weren't there and... and I was lonely." Wesley frowned at Angel. "Satisfied? Angel!" he cried as he was suddenly lifted off the couch.

Glass crunched under Angel's shoes as he carried Wesley towards the stairs. "Yup."

Wesley rolled his eyes. "Oh for... Angel, put me down."

"Nope." He started up the stairs towards their room.

"Intent on carrying me across the threshold?"

"No, just intent on getting you into bed." Angel smirked and pushed open the door. He put Wesley down on the bed, ignoring his glare, and kissed him once. "Where I'll join you in just a minute."

Angel left, presumably to clean up the broken glass before some other fool tramped all over it. Wesley gave up. He pulled off his clothes, careful of the bandages on his feet (Angel had practically turned him into a mummy) tossed them in the general direction of the hamper (and was pleased when the bundle of clothing fell perfectly into it) and snuggled under the blankets. The heating blanket was on, and the bed was blissfully cozy.

He was dozing off again when the mattress dipped beside him. Angel slid under the covers and curled up alongside him. Angel's body was cold enough from the night air to make Wesley shiver, but soon both of them had warmed up again.

"All cleaned up?" Wesley asked, quietly.

"Mm hmm," Angel nodded. He slid down so he could lay his head on Wesley's chest. Wesley ran his fingers through Angel's hair absently, mussing its short spikes.

"You know I only let you do that because I love you," Angel grumbled. Wes laughed softly and intentionally mussed it further. "I get you presents and what do I get? You messing with my hair."

Angel rolled off Wesley and propped himself up on his elbow. Wesley looked up at Angel and giggled. Angel pouted and ran his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to smooth it back into place.

"This is your revenge, isn't it?"

"What ever makes you say that?" asked Wesley, innocently.

"This is your revenge for me not telling you what I got you," Angel said, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"No," said Wesley. "This is my revenge for you carrying me against my will. I haven't yet decided on my revenge for you not telling me what you snuck out of bed in the middle of the night for."

Angel glowered at him, then as if a switch had been flipped, smiled a slow, terrible smile. Wesley's eyes widened, realizing the significance of that look.

"Angel, no, wait," he began, but it was too late. Angel had already ducked under the covers and was on the move. Wesley tried to scoot out from under them but it was no good, Angel had him pinned. "Don't you dare," he commanded. Angel's hands were moving along his body; obviously threats weren't going to cut it. "I'm a wounded man," he tried, "you wouldn't tickle a wounded man?"

Angel's muffled voice emanated from the lower half of the bed. "Who said anything about tickling?" The hands moved lower, and around, and... oh! Wesley gasped. "I'm just," Angel began, then paused to lick at Wesley's inner thigh, "evening the score for you."

Wesley sank back into the pillows and relaxed, spreading his legs to give Angel more room to work. "By all means," he breathed, then moaned. "Angel..."

Angel poked his head out from the blankets and smirked. He moved his spit-slicked fingers down and around and pressed, and Wesley moaned his name again. "Have I ever mentioned how much I love the way you say my name?"

"Angel," Wesley moaned, arching his back, "Angel!"

"Mmm, yeah, just like that," Angel said contentedly. He moved up along Wesley's body, nipping and licking as he went, and decided with some satisfaction that every day should be Wesley's birthday.