Author: Midnight Girl
Title: Happy Birthday, Willow Rosenberg
Rating: PG
Summary: Buffy and Xander pull a "Sixteen Candles" on Willow... only for real.
Note: There's a Babylon 5 joke in here, can you find it?
I know there's no calendrical type basis for this. I just felt inspired to do it. I've probably just seen "Sixteen Candles" one too many times. Send feedback... please?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willow's eyes popped open to see the buttery morning light streaming through
her window. She smiled and stretched her toes so they reached the cool
recessed of her untouched sheets.

16. Finally.

Though the sweetness of Sweet 16 had been slightly soured by her parents'
sudden decision to jet off to Bangladesh for conference on the Dewey decimal
system, she knew her friends would more than make up for it.

They hadn't said a word about her birthday all week, she knew they were
planning something big.

She hopped out of bed and chose her new jade green wrap skirt and matching
twin set. A gift to herself in honor of her birthday. She knew it was kind
of pathetic that she had to buy herself gifts, but that's what happened when
your parents are so wrapped up in themselves that they barely remembered
they had even had a child, much less when they had her.

When she flounced into the library later that day, Giles was stacking new
editions in the back. He nodded to Willow and continued working. She bit her
lip. Giles was usually so good with dates. Xander was in his usual chair at
the table, munching on a jelly donut and trying to scribble his way through
their geometry homework.

"Will!" he looked up, grinning widely. "I know it's sort an obvious thing to
say-

"Oh, don't worry, Xander, I could get used to it."

"Great!" he said. "So you can help me with the homework? You know how bad I
am with math."

Her eyebrows creased. "Sure, I can help."

She sat next to him and helped work through the problems. Buffy came through
the doors tugging at her skirt. To describe it as a micro-mini would be an
overstatement and Snyder had given her hell in the hallway.She tossed her
books carelessly on the desk.

"Hi," Willow said brightly. Surely Buffy would remember her borthday. Her
hope dampened quickly as Buffy ignored her completely.

"Hi," Buffy mumbled. "Xander, tell me honestly, does this skirt make me look
like a streetwalker? Snyder said I looked like a Cardassian whore on payday,
I'm still trying to figure out what the hell a Cardassian is."

Xander swallowed the lump of donut carefully after nearly choking on it.

"No," he shook his head. "I think it's to the benefit of the male population
of Sunnydale High that you wear that skirt."

Willow rolled her eyes.

"Great sweater, Wills," Buffy said. "Is it new?"

"Uh-huh, sort of a present to myself, you know," she said. Since they
couldn't take subtlety, she might as well go in for the kill. "Does it make
me look older?"

Buffy shrugged. "Not really, same old Willow."

(ARRRGH!)

The day pretty much continued that way. Willow would drop big whopping hints
and her friends continued ignoring them. Even if they were pulling a
"Sixteen Candles" on her, they were taking it a bit too far.

As they finished a research session around 8 o'clock, Buffy suggested they
go to the Bronze.

"Come on, Wills, it could be fun!" Xander prodded.

"Oh, I seeeee." Willow grinned. "The Bronze."

"Yes, the Bronze, the only decent hang-out in town. We go there almost
nightly remember?" Buffy asked. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Suuuure, I'll go to the Bronze with you," Willow grinned. She knew it.
That's where they were hiding the cake and presents.

But the only thing at the Bronze was the usual abundance of roaches. There
wasn't a candle or party hat in sight. Willow sat glumly stirring her soda
as she and Angel watched Buffy and Xander get down with their bad selves.

"Why aren't you out there dancing?" she asked.

"You just looked a little down, I figured you didn't want to be alone," he
said, smiling gently.

"Angel, you don't have to babysit me, really," she said.

"I'm not babysitting you, maybe I just don't feel like dancing to this
dreck," he said.

"I suppose you'd be more comfortable with a minuet?" she grinned.

"Infinitely," he grimaced.

Willow glanced at her watch , 12:02. Her birthday was officially over. And
she hadn't gotten a cake. A single present, not even a "happy birthday."

Her life officially sucked.

"Um, Angel, can you tell Buffy I went home?" she asked.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked, helping her shrug into her light jacket.

"No," she shook her head, fighting the tiny tears forming at the corners of
her eyes. "I'm just a little tired."

"You want me walk you home?" he asked.

"No, really, thanks," she said, backing towards the door."I'm just going to
go to bed and get some rest. I'll be fine."

She turned and dashed for the door, wiping frantically at the tear tracks on
her face. All she needed was for Cordelia's cronies to see her bawling in
the Bronze.

She ran all the way home, practically blinded by her misery. She twisted her
doorknob ruefully, surprised when she found it unlocked.

"H-hello?" she called.

She opened the door, soft candlelight flickered against the living room
walls. She grinned. How did Buffy and Xander beat her home? As she passed
her mother's tall grandfather's clock, she noticed it was set to 11:59.
Techinically it was still her birthday.

"Hello?" she turned the corner to her living room to find ... Angel,
standing in the middle of the room, holding a heavily frosted chocolate
cake.

"Happy Birthday," he said softly.

Her jaw dropped. "Angel?"

"You said to come over whenever I liked, I figured a surprise party would
count."

"How did you know it's my birthday?" she asked.

"I know a lot of things about you, Willow," he said. "Things you think  no
one notices. And I like them all."

She stared down at her feet. And noticed the rather large pile of presents
behind him.

"So are you going to blow out these candles or what?" he grinned. "Vampires
have a tendency to fear fire."

She laughed. He set the cake on the coffee table. He fit a little "birthday
girl" tiara over her silky red hair. She giggled. HE leaned in quickly in a
fluid movement and gave her a soft, questing kiss- like butterflies brushing
over her lips.

"Happy Birthday, Willow Rosenberg," he whispered.

She blew out her candles with a deep gusting breath.

"Did you make a wish?" he asked.

She shook her head and kissed him.

"I already got it."

THE END

(Entirely sappy, I know. But I needed a sugar-fix.)
 

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