Wes could have been anywhere. No, not really. Wes wouldn't have gone to the UCLA-Duke basketball game, or the Kings-Penguins game. Maybe there was a darts tournament somewhere or a pre-Columbian art exhibit at one of the museums. Who ever knew where Wesley went? Maybe Parker is back in town! Now that had been a truly odd couple. Wes and Parker!
Angel's mind flashed back to Blue Cove, Delaware, when he had been a prisoner in a think-tank/chamber of horrors called The Centre. A beautiful woman named Catherine Parker had come to visit him, thinking he was one of the poor children who had been kidnapped and brought there for research. Although he had scared her out of her wits when she had accidentally touched him with the crucifix that hung around her neck and he had "vamped out" at her, she had quickly rebounded due to her rare courage and even more rare total faith in God. Until she had been able to come up with a plan to help him escape, she had sneaked in to visit whenever she could, sometimes accompanied by a kindly psychiatrist named Sydney or Jacob. They were identical twins, and he was never sure which one he was with. He thought they took a little harmless delight in confusing him! Cathy had beautiful eyes and soft auburn hair (Parker, her daughter, looked exactly like her but had a hard edge that growing up in the Centre without her mother's guidance but with her father's influence had given her). Helping people had always been her mission in life, but her first priority had been her little girl. Too bad she didn't get out with her little girl before she was murdered in one of the Centre's elevators.
Cathy had come to see him, at first just as a would-be rescuer. Then she had become a real friend. Then, he had fallen in love with her. Although he could tell that the feeling was becoming mutual, she held back. First of all, she was a staunch Catholic and would have died before committing adultery. Secondly, she knew about the curse that the gypsies had doomed him with, so she could never have taken the chance of costing him his soul. And, last but certainly not least, she had to protect her daughter.
One night, just before the plan to get him out of the Centre was about to go into action, she had come to him alone. It was his birthday. She had a small wrapped package for him. Inside it was a keychain with a gold angel, engraved To Angel, with love and hope, from Cathy. When he opened it, he had taken her into his arms. He held her tight, running his hands through her beautiful auburn hair. Then there had been the kiss, the one and only kiss they had shared. As she turned to leave, tears in her eyes, she said softly, "Angel," and silently added, "I love you." Then she walked out of his life forever. Jacob and Sydney had done the actual rescue. Now he knew she had died just days afterward. He took the keychain from his pocket and just looked at it. Thank you, Cathy. I still love you.
Just then he heard the familiar "ding" from his computer. "You've Got Mail," the perky voice chirped. He found an electronic birthday card from Willow. Opening it, he read, "I hope your birthday is bright and sunny." Then the figure of the man in the card disintegrated into ashes as a ray of sunshine hit him. "Oops, maybe that's not such a hot idea! Have a good one anyway. Love, Will." He had to laugh. Willow had always been a real friend. He thought of Willow and Oz, and how devastated she had been when he left her. At least she had found someone else.
His thoughts went back to another birthday: Darla, a roaring fire, a beautiful gypsy girl bound, cringing in fear. Then the curse. Damn you, Darla, for everything. But I loved you once.
A strange thought crossed his mind. What made him think of Lindsey MacDonald? No one knew where he was now. That was a man who had had it all and then lost it all. He had a wife he adored and a little boy, both of whom were now dead, his son just minutes after taking his first breath and his wife less than an hour later. We've both lost everything. At least I have a purpose and I have at least one friend. Poor guy, I do feel for you. I hope you find peace. I haven't, and it's been several hundred years.
Unbidden the thought of Buffy came into his mind. She was his one true love, but he could never be with her, at least until Shanshu came. He thought of the nights they had been together. First the night in Sunnydale, where he became Angelus again and almost brought about the destruction of the world. Then the night here in LA, which the Oracles had taken back but left him with the memory. The last time he had seen her, in LA, when he had tried to save Faith, their parting had been so bitter. He knew she had someone else now. Riley Finn! Somehow the thought of Buffy with Riley caused a sour taste in his mouth. But maybe she was happy. No, I have to stop thinking of Buffy now. An old song came into his mind: "I'll Walk Alone." He hummed it and thought about the words. Maybe he'd always walk alone. Because of him, Giles walked alone, as he had killed Giles' beloved Jenny Calendar. Wes was walking alone because Parker was trapped in the Hotel California known as The Centre. Lindsey was walking alone thanks to the evil power of Wolfram & Hart, who had caused his wife's and son's deaths. At least Buffy wasn't walking alone.
Angel stood up and walked to the bookcase, where he selected a book that had been his other gift from Cathy: Wuthering Heights. She had laughingly called him Heathcliff, as he was dark and brooding. He sat down and started to read. Cathy was right; he could definitely identify with Heathcliff. Maybe he should rent the video. Did he look like the young Laurence Olivier, who had played Heathcliff? He'd never know, as he couldn't see himself in the mirror!
Two hours later, absorbed in his book, he didn't hear the door open and four pairs of feet softly tiptoeing in. But five minutes after that, all Hell broke loose.
"SURPRISE!" four voices shouted. "Happy birthday, Angel." Cordelia came in, took his arm, and pulled him into the kitchen. There, on the table, was a large chocolate cake beautifully decorated and inscribed with Happy Birthday Angel. Bunches of balloons decorated the room, and a pile of presents sat on the table by the cake. Wes, Charles Gunn, and Willow were wearing silly hats and applauding. Angel shook his head. How could he have thought that he'd walk alone with friends like these?
"Come on, Dark & Brooding, cut the cake! We're starving." Good old Cordelia, cutting to the chase, as usual.
"Yeah, man, I want to take this silly hat off!" Cordelia slapped Gunn's hand as he tried to carry out that action.
"Don't you dare!" She informed him with a smile. Willow gave Angel a big kiss on the cheek. She had made the drive up from Sunnydale to be with him today. Everybody had gone to a lot of trouble for him. For the rest of the day, at least, Angel was happy.