They Say It's Your Birthday

[http://users.livejournal.com/_fredless/]

Who: Fred and Wesley
What: Fred plans an evening for Wesley on his birthday
When: Dec 22 - Dec 28, Wesley's Birthday Week
Where: Wesley's Parisian Apartment, Catacombs, Paris
Rating: PG 13 --> ? TBD by muses. Will Update as needed.

She couldn't say, exactly, when she'd made the decision.

If only because it felt as if there really wasn't a decision to make. The remaining distance between herself and Wesley had felt far more bearable with a mystical castle and the majority of a town separating them. Fred wasn't as certain about distance making things fonder anymore, so much as manageable. But now he was just across the hall.

Just across. And it might as well have been the same space, for all the protection from her own thoughts that offered. You couldn't see through walls, at least not in the traditional sense. But you could feel heat through them. It might be winter in Paris, but it certainly wasn't in Fred's small studio apartment.

And now? It was Wesley's birthday.

Maybe, back at home, that might've looked entirely different. Dinner, maybe. Another not-quite-as-planned date. And there always seemed to be some distraction or the other. But they weren't in Paradisa, they were in Paris.

And now she was back to the part to it not really being a decision.

It didn't take much to break into his apartment. She'd never had much trouble with locks, not when she set her mind to them. Wesley was still at work, which suited her plans perfectly. After all, if he'd been here? She might not've been allowed much further than the living room. But Wesley wasn't there. And that afforded her plenty of time to locate a handful of candles tucked under one cabinet, and to light them along the perimeters of his bedroom. Even if truthfully the lights coming from the window were far more appealing.

A bottle of wine and two glasses sat quietly on his dresser. Because it was Paris, and there was more definitely wine. Either way, her lack of deciding aside? Whatever Wesley decided, they could still spend the evening together.

Finally she settled herself -- and a familiar bit of blue fabric -- onto his bed.

And waited.

Comments

Evening of the 27th

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She'd heard about the catacombs that honeycombed under the city, of course. But it was sheer accident that cause Fred to stumble across one of the actual entry points into them. The foundation of their apartment building was clearly old, and obviously parts of a previous structure still lingered in the basement. She'd merely been curious to explore the place they currently identified as home.

The passageway was dark and dawn, and nearly concealed by the crates and boxes stacked in front of it. Still, Fred expected part of herself would never shake her ability to sense more now. An expansion of space. The cool and the hidden that hopefully lead to security.

It only took Fred a few steps to sort out just what she'd found. And a few more hours where curiosity clearly ruled all else. But after a while, it struck her that she might be both in need of a few supplies?

And company.

Carefully tracing her way back, she headed upstairs in search of Wesley.

Evening of the 27th

[demonologist]

Wes had been sitting on the couch of his apartment, reading going over his research notes, contemplating whether he should do a load of laundry and wondering if Fred might like to order something in when he thought he heard her calling him from the hallway.

He got up and popped his head around the door-frame.

"Fred? Is everything alright?"

Evening of the 27th

[http://users.livejournal.com/_fredless/]

There was a very strong possibility that the dust that coated Fred's hair was significantly older than she was. And that was definitely cobwebs on her clothing and a smudge of undiscernible origins on her cheek.

Fred smiled broadly.

"Everything's wonderful."

Evening of the 27th

[demonologist]

"What on earth is that in your hair?" He came forward to touch it, his brow furrowing slightly, but since she seemed in a chipper mood, he wasn't too concerned. In fact, her smile was rather infectious. "Been battling with spiders, have we?"

[http://users.livejournal.com/_fredless/]

"...maybe one or two."

Wesley effectively scattered some of the dust in her hair, which only caused Fred to sneeze. Not that it even remotely slowed her down.

A small duffel already slung over one shoulder, she really didn't give Wesley as option as she reached down to take his hand.

"Come on."

[demonologist]

"We're going somewhere? Hang on, then, let me fetch my coat." He went to go do that, not releasing her hand, then locked his apartment door and pocketed the key.

"Lead on..."

Wherever Fred wanted to go, she was going to have to be their guide.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_fredless/]

Her body still tight with the residual excitement from her explorations from before, Fred lead Wesley down the stairs of their apartment building. And then down another set still that lead to the basement.

It was only then that she released his hand, stepping over to push back the crates that just barely covered the entryway to the catacombs. It looked like it had been fully blocked, at some point. But along the way sheer determination had won out. Fred, for her part, couldn't be more pleased.

[demonologist]

Wes was immediately intrigued, of course, and eagerly helped her to clear away the crates.

"I think I know what you've discovered, Fred. A secret entrance to the catacombs running under the city. I've read about them, but never had a chance to explore them for myself. How did you know this entrance was here?"

[http://users.livejournal.com/_fredless/]

Fred looked into the dark, aged entrance that stretched out in front of them. There was a small lift in one shoulder, part of a reply as she shifted closer to Wesley.

"I didn't. Not at first. Honestly I was just doing a bit of exploring when I felt the draft. I think someone else did most of the work before me. Maybe they live in one of the other apartments."

[demonologist]

"Well, I am definitely in the mood for an adventure and I'm glad you thought to come back and get me, rather than venturing too far into the tunnels on your own." Not that he thought she was incapable of taking care of herself should something go awry, but still. He would have hated not knowing.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_fredless/]

"There might've been a bit of venturing," Fred admitted as she moved to duck through the entryway. She tugged out two small flashlights and handed one of them to Wesley.

"But I eventually ventured back."