celebrationRating:PG
Posted: May 21, 2001
Notes: 1) Written to celebrate the first birthday of By Sun and Candlelight - opened May 31, 2000 - and also for Cordelia's 21st (I think) birthday - May 22, 2001.
2) This is not only a SOD-fic (suspension of disbelief), but also a C?WC?-fic (Curse? What Curse?). I have done my very best to keep this as angst free as possible :)
3) Many thanks to Penny for helping out with locations and also to Christie for help with some of those niggly bits of US terminology.
4) All together - say "cheese!"...
“Wesley, I need help.”“Oh?”
“Birthday parties.”
“Er, yes?”
“I want to organise one - for Cordelia.”
“When is her birthday?”
“Soon.”
“When soon?”
“Tomorrow,” Angel coughed out the minor detail.
“That soon. Well, you could take her out to dinner, or one of those dance clubs, or...”
“No, it should be special. She’ll be twenty-one. A party. All of us.”
“Something special in twenty-four hours?”
“We can do it, right?”
“We? I’m sorry, but as fond as I am of Cordelia I have made other - important - arrangements for tomorrow. If I had known earlier...”
“Come on Wesley, she’s been so depressed lately and...”
“Angel, you don’t need to point that out to me. I said, I can’t be there. Which friends of Cordelia’s, exactly, were you proposing to invite?”
“You, me, Gunn, Lorne... Nabbitt...”
Wesley’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, close friends like David Nabbitt. Then I suggest you add Harmony to your list.”
“I don’t know who else,” Angel muttered, annoyed with his own ignorance as well as Wesley's apparent irritation.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound insensitive - but Virginia has finally agreed to meet with me - testing the waters as it were - and I don’t want to endanger the opportunity. Anyway, you’ve obviously forgotten but Gunn won’t be back from San Diego until Wednesday. Why don’t we leave it until the weekend - then we can all go out somewhere together.”
“Twenty-one, Wes. It’s important.”
“Alright, I’ll do what I can to assist.”
“Wesley? Any suggestions?”
“As I said earlier - dinner. One of those ritzy places she likes. Oh, and, er - spare no expense.”
That was that. I couldn’t help wondering if she would be offended if I organised a party for her and the only guest to show was me. A ritzy restaurant - how cold and formal can you get? A dance club. She likes to dance, but the noise and the people and the dancing; hardly a friendly, intimate evening. Intimate, we don’t want intimate do we Angel? Okay, so big and noisy. Intimate has its upside. No strangers. Here at the Hotel? I could wait for her to come in and then I’d bounce up from behind the counter, throw some paper streamers at her and...um, nope. A surprise party for two in this cavern of a room? Cordelia can fill any room...Geeze, think, Angel. You never were any good at small, close, friends stuff. Unless they were about to become food, then intimate was ... oh, come on, back on track. Balloons, party hats, food, some drink - there will have to be champagne, a present - holy shit, a present. What do you get the girl who used to have everything? The girl you want to give everything to? Wrap up the world and lay it at her feet. As impossible as reaching for the stars. The stars. If only.
And she came into the Hotel, a twenty-one year old with shadows in her eyes where there should have been sunbeams....
“Hi, guys!” Cordelia pushed through the front doors, her voice ringing around the huge room.Angel rose from the deep sofa. He had been waiting for the arrival of the birthday girl - alternately twiddle sitting or tensely pacing.
“Actually, Wes has gone to see his bank people. So, um, guy, singular.”
“Oh? Is he going for a low-interest new suit loan?” Cordelia strode past Angel and tossed her bag under the counter.
Angel stood still, awkwardly rotating a small white box between long, nervous fingers.
“Uh... Cord, happy birthday... I got you this...”
Cordelia choked back the continuing Wesley snipe; her lips slowly parting as Angel pushed the gift into her hands.
“Oh...”
He watched as the box was carefully opened. With a little gasp, Cordelia lifted an oval medallion from the satin lining.
“It isn’t mine. It’s new. I mean I bought it. In an antique store. Never worn by anyone I was acquainted with - or didn’t know and just happened to come across in a dark alley - or anything remotely like from those days. It is antique, but I know nothing about its history. Anyway - it’s only a trinket. There’s another present ‘cept I’m having problems finding a suitable wrapping,” he finished apologetically.
Cordelia draped the wrought-gold locket and chain over her hand, the filtered sun-light warming the rosy metal.
“Angel you don’t need to get me anything else - this is... is wonderful! I really wasn’t expecting a present. To be honest I didn’t expect you to remember my birthday at all.”
“After you pummeled that security code into me last year?”
“Huh, that was in another life-time!”
The lifetime before the Cordelianess of Cordelia permanently pervaded my whole body, mind, and heart. She said she loved the locket and I could tell she truly did. No false smile. She kind of melted, at least, her eyes did. Those depressing shadows lifted for a while and there was a touch of moisture in her eyes. Thank god she didn’t actually cry. Bright eyes, glistening eyes, but she didn’t cry. I hate to see her cry.You know when you want to grab someone and squash them close until all the tears dissolve? Hug them happy? I can’t do that with Cordelia and I want to - so very much, every time she is hurting. How often has she told me not to touch her? Not to invade her ‘personal bubble’? I didn’t even help her clasp the chain around her smooth, creamy neck. No, I made myself stand back and glare at my odiously familiar shoes and hope no tears actually made it to her eyelashes.
After that, I just had to get her to the party without making the lies too obvious...
“What plans have you made for tonight? Twenty-one, that’s a big occasion, right?”“I don’t have anything organised... unless you count Dennis - oh, and Rhett and Scarlett might drop by... if I can find the video... But, you don’t need to worry about me sitting around, all mopey-sad on my birthday. Not Cordelia Chase! Could we... how about we all party tonight?” she asked, voice brightening and hope flashing in her eyes.
“Well, that’s difficult. Gunn is away and Wes is um, busy. That only leaves me and I guess it would be better to wait until Friday night, when everyone is available.”
“Of course. Sensible. That’s me! Miss Sensible. Anyway, I should wait in on the chance my parents call from some tax evasivey haven.” Cordelia's fingertips played over the delicate engravings of the locket.
“There is something we could do - together...”
“Yes?” she inquired expectantly, optimism renewed.
“Seeing you aren’t going anywhere in particular, there’s a job you can help me with ...”
“A job? Oh. Nice. Will it interfere with my solitary celebration?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” she sighed, “what’s the go?”
“There’s this demon hatching - a Kwantok rising - that is, they rise if they hatch - and I need to be there.”
“Sounds fun. Are there many?”
“Three, I think. You can hold the eggs steady while I stomp.”
“How can I refuse? Are these Kwantok slimy, oozy, yicky types?”
“Um, I haven’t killed one before. But eggs, you know, probably oozy.”
“Great. The slimy unknown. Hey, if we get the stomping done quick we can have a pizza later! Right? Not the most chic of twenty-first’s - won’t get me into ‘Town and Country’ - but a girl has to look on the bright side! Sounds a better offer than, um, nothing. When and where?”
“We need to leave here just after eight. Mulholland Drive.”
“Ooooh! Lover’s Lane!”
“What?”
“Don’t panic. I won’t make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with!”
She laughed at me in that teasing voice and with serious eyes. I’ve seen that expression a lot recently. The smile has gone from the depths. Her eyes aren’t empty, far from empty, but she pretends she is happy; pretends to laugh off comments. So many times during that conversation, when I saw the longing in her face, I nearly gave in and told her I wanted to take her to the biggest, brightest party for her birthday, wanted to make her smile from the eyes out, hear her laugh in that joyful Cordelia giggle. But I didn’t. I squashed her dreams as easily as a mythical Kwantok egg. Bastard.Taking her to Lover’s Lane! Why didn’t I know Mulholland was called Lover’s Lane? Ye gods. I’d rather she despised me for my selfishness than snickered at my feeble attempts at courting. Courting? Is that what you call it now? No, this is a surprise birthday for Cordelia. To cheer her up. No way could she mistake it for anything... closer. A surprise because, well, isn’t a surprise exciting and the type of occasion young women want? Like in the magazine - decorations, lights, food, naked young man bursting out of a cake. Easy. `Cept no naked man. Not naked. No, no - layers and layers of clothes.
On the way up to Mulholland she settled back and chattered. I love to listen to her talk. The words flow so easily and freely, full of sound and rhythm. Tonight she chose to tell me about her childhood birthdays and how much fun they had been. All the kids, clowns, ponies, magic, fairy grottos. Compared to my two person non-party, they were genuine extravaganzas. But all the time she was talking about the ‘fun times’ there was never any joy in her voice. One of these days she will tell me more, her real childhood. She’s let drop bits and pieces as though she were throwing pebbles into a well - standing back and listening for the response - either a big splash or a distant ripple. I usually try to play it half way - no huge deal but not ignoring the smatterings of information altogether. Listen, acknowledge, absorb, store. One day, it will all come together. I’ve been doing the same with her, trickling out small doses of my murky past. Like the locket. There’s no reason, I hope, that I needed to explain about the locket. But I said it anyway.
“Hey! This isn’t a ruse to get me to a big surprise party at a mansion in the hills is it? And a really handsome, buff young guy will explode out of a cake at me?”“Ugh - guy in a cake? No, but I’ll try and remember for next year.”
“Don’t bother, I’ll be old and staid by then, mixing with an old fuddy-duddy like you for so long." She was silent for a moment, attempting to contain loose, wildly wind-blown strands of hair. "Fuddy-duddy. That was a mild insult in case you don’t recognise one; me not being the type to insult you - much.”
“Yeah. Got it,” he acknowledged, keeping his gaze solidly on the road ahead.
“Well?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, come on Angel! Why do you take it from me all the time? You used to fight back! Can you understand that occasionally it would be neat if you’d spark back? Eases the... the... stresses, you know?”
“Punching bags are great for stress... okay, okay. Here we are...”
Angel pulled the car off the bitumen onto the bumpy gravel. He brought the Plymouth to a halt under a group of trees and snapped off the headlamps.
“Are you sure? How can you tell?” she asked, craning her neck and peering into the dark.
“Hey, just quit with the inane chatter - these Kwantok need squashing! Now!” Angel commanded. He opened the car door decisively, climbed out and turned to Cordelia with a much milder, “How was that?”
“A little harsh. Inane and chatter. That’s two insults.”
“Well you said fuddy and duddy.”
“Do you really think I go on and on about nothing? I mean, on some subconscious level you must have thought... inane... chatter!” Cordelia stood still, accustoming her eyes to the black night.
“It wasn’t subconscious.”
“Oooh, nasty!”
“Cordelia, demons, now!”
“What about weapons - or do we take off our shoes and get squishy with the toes?”
“Grab a sword from the trunk. Go!” Angel emphasised the urgency by slapping his hand against the black bodywork of the car.
“The masterful touch. Nice,” she said, edging her way carefully around the car.
“You think so?”
“Uh huh. Caveman, much? If I still had long hair you could have dragged me - or not...”
God, her blush and confusion were adorable. The blessings of vampiric night vision. Thankfully, there were no Kwantok to be concerned about. She really was in the mood for banter and even, surprisingly, a mild flirtation. I tried to ignore the flirting. That path, only more pain. A sequestered love is bearable. I can feel the love and the anticipation and the hurt and, you know, this time I damn well will experience it all. I’m not running away again. Not can’t, won’t. But to try and share the love without an assurance of full acceptance on the other side? No. Not even to flirt. I’d over-step, I know I would and then she would be horrified at my presumption. Not that, not ever. Rejection. Never. Though, even at my most determined I can still slip up. When she looks at me, just... like... that...“... or not dragged me anywhere!”
“Cordelia. Just open the trunk.”
As soon as she released the catch it flew up and out of her reach with an abrupt dazzle of light and burgeoning sound. Her suddenly wide-eyed face was full of bright pink, teddy-bear and hearts, helium-filled balloons bopping against her cheeks as the ribbons reeled out and they danced, lightly, in the breeze. Diamonds of brilliant sparkles from a mirror-ball and an up-beat crooning of ‘Happy Birthday To You’ completed the surprise package.. Shit, the squeals piercing the fresh night air! Hopefully they were squeals of delight. I had to look around for sirens and helicopter spotlights in case anyone thought she was being murdered. She was excited, I guess.
“Oh, you, you.....geeze Angel, are you trying to scare me to death or batter me with balloons?” Her voice was a satisfying blend of scold, surprise and exhiliration.“No. Um, surprise! Happy birthday, Cordelia.”
“A retro disco-ball! Lights! Wow! Balloons! Music! A party in a trunk...”
“You... like it?”
“Yes! Yes, I love it! How did you get the lights and the music to go ... whoosh! All together!”
“I know a tame ghooli with a sideline as an electrician.”
“Convenient! Ugh, boy I...” Cordelia slapped one open palm onto his chest. “I really... thanks.” For a moment he thought she was going to repeat herself, but the words of gratitude died on her lips and in its place he was given a smiling smile, eyes and all. ‘Happy Birthday’ finally faded to a stop in the background.
“There’s food and champagne in the bag... Hungry?”
“Oh yeah! Do we sit in the car?”
“No, there’s a rock outcrop just over there, behind the trees.” He lifted the cooler from the trunk, slung a rug over his shoulder and took Cordelia’s hand. “I’d better hang on to this... in case you miss your footing...”
Angel guided Cordelia past the trees, through rustling dry leaf litter to the base of a clump of large, flat boulders. “Angel, the Kwantok aren’t going to come bursting out of the bushes are they?”
“And yell ‘surprise’? Um, no. I lied.”
“I understand. Surprise parties can be morally challenging.”
Cordelia stepped onto the rocks and looked down over the sparkling multitude of dotted lights of Los Angeles. Angel spread the rug over a level slab of rock then reached into the bag for the bottle of champagne.
“This is it?” she asked.
Angel twisted the champagne wire in his hand. “Yeah, I’m sorry...You’re right, it isn’t much... A restaurant would have... ”
“No... I only meant is anyone else coming or is it you and me?”
“You and me ... not enough, is it. I thought...”
“I don’t need anyone else. It’s beautiful, Angel.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh - I adore the city lights.”
“Here, sit down." Angel steadied Cordelia’s arm while she lowered herself to the ground. He followed, scrunching up, cross-legged, beside her. “And if you look right up you can actually see stars, the twinkly type.”
“Oh... gorgeous!”
“You think?”
“Hey - is this the present you couldn’t find a box for?”
“Well, yeah. Cheesy, right?”
“Yummy fromage.”
“I had this idea in my head about giving you the world but I had to settle for a couple of distant universes instead. And the cheese keeps on coming,” he laughed nervously.
“I’m glad. I mean what’s with the world? So over-rated! Everyone promises the world but this...”
“Cord? You aren’t going to get weepy - are you?” he wondered, peering at a suspicious glimmer on Cordelia's cheek.
“Hell, no. What else is in that cooler?” Cordelia ducked her head down towards the bag of food.
“You like caviar, right?”
“Oh, Angel! Caviar? Do bears poop? What else?”
“Blini for the caviar....”
“Uh huh, and...?”
“Well, there’s quite a lot of Beluga... and the champagne... you’re really hungry?”
“Starved. I missed lunch ‘cause I thought I’d save up for the pizza. This will make a delish first course!”
“But there isn’t a second course, Cord.”
“Yes, there is - pizza and movie, remember? I mean, if you still want to...?”
“Mmm, yes.”
She let me feed her mouthfuls of squirting, bursting, melting Beluga from a dainty mother-of-pearl spoon. I even tried some. Hell, Cordelia armed with a loaded caviar spoon and “Open wide now” and “Don’t be a big baby”, what could I do? Salty and yeah, squirty and interesting. Softly popping salty-jelly bubbles. Erotic. Shit. Besides I was curious. Cordelia sitting there next to me, so close, making tiny ooohhhmm-moans with each mouthful of egg. Geeze. Whoever said caviar was an aphrodisiac must have watched and listened to Cordelia eating the stuff. A culinary orgasm in each spoonful. I had to taste. And yeah, well, it made me wriggle some.I forgot to buy a birthday cake... how could I organise a birthday party and forget the cake? Was I trying to block the image of the naked man jumping out of a huge dessert covered in pink frosting and strawberries? Honestly, how could you eat a piece of cake when you know a bare-butt guy had been sitting inside? She hasn’t mentioned cake. The champagne is giggly - is making her giggly - but without the actual giggles. Not me. I only had one glass. But it must have been enough to release several of those ‘drop your guard’ cells into my blood.
She relaxed some more and we lay back on the rug, the champagne bottle a decorous chaperone between our bodies. She wanted me to point out some of the constellations. Except for the tree-frog ‘burr-upping’ nearby our little rock was quiet and I began to forget we were surrounded by millions of people. There was only Cordelia and me and the frog and millions of stars.
“No moon.”“Not tonight. Did you want the moon as well as the stars?”
“Nah, all these stars will do fine. I’m glad we are moonless.”
“Why?”
“Caviar, champagne, stars, good company... add a moon and I might have started to get mushy.”
“Bad, huh?”
Cordelia nodded her head, little abrupt movements. “Yeah. More bubbly?”
“Not for me. Look, over that way - see them? That bright cluster of stars? The seven sisters. And there is Orion, fated to eternally chase them across the night sky.”
“Hey, Star Man?”
“Well, you know, creature of the night and all.”
“Do they have a story?”
“Hundreds. I’ll tell you a Greek version...”
“Wait... did you bring some cushions?”
“No, sorry...” About to kick himself for forgetting yet another important item of birthday apparatus, he remembered the delights of improvisation. “Here, use my shoulder...” Cordelia seemingly didn't hesitate. She rested her head against the proffered bulk of shoulder and chest while Angel casually brought his hand around to settle on a jean clad hip. “Better?”
“Mmm. You know,” she said, snuggling in, “parking wasn’t this much fun in High School. All gropey-touchy-sweaty with a side of werewolf or some other hairy-scary.”
Angel felt a small shiver run through Cordelia’s body and he quickly banished the vague knot of jealousy that had begun to form in his gut.
“Cold?”
“No,” she replied, but Angel tightened his arm around her and pulled her closer. Just in case. He listened intently as the quickened pace of her heart relaxed to a quieter, rhythmical beat. Uncharted territory. He was negotiating the reefs of rejection.
“Tell me the story,” she asked softly.
“Sure. Comfy?” he inquired, voice as mundanely cheerful as possible, “Okay. Orion is just below and to the left of the Sisters... now Orion was a mighty hunter, or so he thought, I have my doubts. He met this girl called Merope, daughter of a king. Usual story - wooed her, couldn’t control his hormones, they did the deed before the wedding and Daddy got mad; poked out Orion’s eyes and abandoned him at the seaside. Why not just kill him? Why the seaside? Anyway...”
Damn, man, you were edging the boundaries there. It was even worse when she decided to roll onto her side, breasts and heartbeat pushing into my ribs, gazing across at me with an ‘everything you are saying is so interesting’ look. Of course, it would have really helped if she had closed her mouth and didn’t have her lips parted...like... mmm... moist, pink, damn, lips! She wasn’t smiling but, god, her eyes were like moonbeams in the dark. I could feel myself falling into the radiant silvery ripples. Can you drown in moonbeams? Rejection is nothing but a risk and risks...well, what of them when there is the vision of immersing yourself in Cordelia’s glorious depths for a lifetime.If one of the little people had come prancing up out of the bushes, tapped me on the shoulder and offered me some honey mead, I wouldn’t have said ‘no’ - or been surprised. By then I was already in my own folksy-fairy-green world... heck, vampires? What are they but creatures of someone’s crazed imagination?
“What are their names?”“Now, there’s a challenge. Let’s see... Electra...” Angel reached out and stroked a wayward wisp of hair out of Cordelia’s face. “Merope, Alcyon...” The strand was gently pushed into the wavy mass. “Asterope, Maia...” He wove his fingers into her hair. “I can’t remember... the others...”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Good.”
“Angel, can I say something without you telling me I’m stupid... or... or laughing?”
“Mmmm.”
“I’m serious! Listen...” Cordelia disentangled his wandering hand from her hair and stilled it against his chest. She took a deep breath.
“I think it’s sweet, I really think it’s....” Cordelia took another deep breath. “Tonight, actually I really think tonight is a birthday that a person who truly cared about me would give... I feel... I feel...”
“Appreciated?” he prompted.
“No... well okay, yes appreciated... but I meant cared for in the sense of...” Angel peered into the hazel eyes, anticipating, almost fearing the reply.
“The way your parents cared ...?” he prodded gently, but Cordelia bit her bottom lip and shook her head. He ventured another, more hopeful, suggestion. “I think I am getting it... I’m a friend who cares?”
“Yes, you are, but it’s more.” Cordelia fell silent again. Angel wriggled his hand free, resumed stroking the hair back from her face and waited.
“I don’t want to say... because I might be wrong and then I would embarrass us both... not to mention I have serious rejection issues and I’d totally spoil this beautiful, beautiful night,” she finished in a breathless rush.
“Tell me.” The encouragement was whispered, as though an elevated tone could shatter the moment.
“You like me don’t you?” she ventured.
“Of course.”
“Maybe you like me a bit more than like?”
“Yeah, I’d agree to that.”
“And maybe a notch higher?”
“Uh huh.”
“Is there a chance there is another word you could use for like-like?”
“Well, yeah, I’d say... definitely.”
“Geeze Angel...” Cordelia dropped her head to his shoulder, burrowing deep into the gap between arm and chest. Her voice, when it came, was muffled. “So you like-like me and you care about me and we are also friends and we might be able to put all of that into one word?”
“Uh huh.”
“Crap. I feel sick.” Cordelia twisted in Angel’s embrace and sat up, her back towards him, tightly hugging her raised knees.
“Hell, I didn’t mean to scare you ...” He rolled over to reach out to her, fingers running down her fabric-covered back-bone. “Oh shit, Cord - please, forget all of that like-like stuff... we’re friends right? We’ll always be - just - friends.”
“No... it isn't enough... and how do I know you don't mean something totally different and... but, oh, god, I want you to say it... and I don’t because there will be so much pain but, you know, it kinda feels like hot pokers now anyway ... do you think it will get worse, Angel?”
Angel briefly considered if this was a moment where lies would be cherished above the truth. He went with truth. “Probably,” he admitted
“Big time crap.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve never said it, not this way... I feel it all over, but I’ve never said it because if you say it the other person might laugh in your face and even if you didn’t I don’t think I can say it now because if I do someone will come along and rip everything I know and feel about you right out of me.”
“Shh, hey, it’s okay... we can wait or... if you want, I can say ... what you are trying to say.”
“Do you think you can? I know you’ve said the words before but...” She peeped a cautious, tear-stained glance at him over her shoulder, his mass dark and shadowy in the night.
“Because I’ve said it before doesn’t mean it isn’t as scary - scarier, even - now, or that I don’t mean what I say or...”
“Angel! Please?”
“Sure,” he said with an assumed confidence. He pushed himself up, one open palm landing on the discarded caviar tin as he crawled around to face Cordelia. Angel fiddled briefly with the lid before offering the container to Cordelia. “More?”
“Angel?”
“I...er, I think... god, I know I love you.” The words tumbled out in a flood of desperate, passionate relief. The caviar tin was hurriedly dropped and replaced with Cordelia’s hand. “I said it. I love you and I’m in love with you and, hey, will you look at that? Nothing happened. The stars are still in the heaven’s! I love you. Easy.” The unspoken appeal in his eyes welled up and almost ran out the corners. “You could try like one word at a time, after me... I... your turn... say I...”
“I...”
“Love...”
“Angel?”
“It’s okay you don’t have to, I understand...”
“No, hold my hand tighter.” Cordelia screwed her eyes shut. “I love you.” The lids flew open to reveal blazing eyes. “Oh, oh, I said it and you didn’t laugh and you are still here!” Cordelia scrambled to her feet and danced over the rock. “I want to... I want to fly! And, oh my god, Angel, I love you! If I jump off here I could fly up to the stars! This is... it’s magic!”
“Cord... don’t actually jump now, here, come here.” Angel pulled Cordelia away from the edge of the precipice and folded her into the solid safety of his arms.
“Is this going to be the best ever moment of my life?” she asked, tilting her face up to him, eyes misting in ecstatic expectation.
Angel bent his head, his mouth only inches from Cordelia's lips.
What else would there be? No white wedding on a sunny July afternoon, no agonising screams of joy as she pushed their child into the world, no strolls along a searing, sunlit beach.
Only love, pure love and the deliciously powerful moment of its revelation. This was it. He caught a breath at the overwhelming sadness of the life he was offering his love. But as long as there is love, all else can be conquered.
He kissed her, affirming his love with the most intimate of embraces, the passion of his heart answering to her softest touch.
His love. Their love. The one steadfast truth in a world of ambiguity. Of that he would be certain to give, take, caress, nurture, taste the salty tang of love every single day.
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Disclaimer: The characters are Joss', Mutant Enemy's and probably a heap of other people about whom I know nothing.
I lay no claim to ownership of the characters, I simply like to ask them out to play now and then.
