"It's your birthday. I don't think you're allowed to ruin it," Fred replied, accepting her own glass of wine. She took a long sip of her own before continuing. "In fact, I'm almost completely certain there's a rule about that somewhere."

Her tone was firm, and didn't really allow for argument.

And truthfully, there hadn't been all that much trouble involved. It was just a shirt and a bottle of wine -- quietly sided with a bout of breaking and entering. But as plans went, they weren't especially complicated. If there was any trouble? It was that she didn't completely understand.

Fred her perch on the bed, Fred took in Wesley's profile. The stain of the wine was just barely visible on his lips. Through her examination, a thought occurred. She'd thought it was well behind them, but --

She stood, moving to stand just in from of him. Her knees brushed against his own as she carefully navigated her own class until one hand rested over each shoulder. It was a completely different embrace than the one she greeted him with. Mostly, she just wanted to make sure he was looking at her.

She assumed, after all this time, that they'd closed the chapter on one particular evening in the Hyperion. It was so long ago, now. But she needed to be better at reminding herself that for Wesley -- perhaps it wasn't. There was a wall they seemed to come up against sometimes, when they were especially close. Was that part of it?

"Wesley." She measured the word carefully. "You're not going to hurt me."