Slaves to Love

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Lyrics to "Do You Really Want To Hurt Me?" by Culture Club, "Our Lips Are Sealed" by J. Wiedlin and T. Hall, and "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred used without permission. DEDICATION: For Jeff, the most kick ass husband ever. His evil mind is to blame for the Boy George action. "Make a wish," said Angel softly. Cordelia leaned forward and blew out the candles of her birthday cake. His eyes were locked on her face as she smiled widely. "What did you wish for?" asked Willow. "That would be telling," she replied. Tara pulled out the smoking candles from the cake and set them aside. Buffy brought over a stack of plates and silverware and a cake server from the china cabinet. "I'm breaking out the china in your honor," she said. "I want my piece with that big pink flower on it," said Cordy. Buffy cut a generous slice and handed it to her, then passed forks and plates of cake to everyone else. "Thanks!" said the birthday girl. "Can we open my presents now?" She was as excited as a child at the prospect. "Whatever you want," said Spike, through a mouth full of cake. "Open ours first, though. It's the pink one." She obediently reached for the flat box and opened it. Seeing the soft ivory colored sweater inside, she stroked it with her hand and peeked at the tag. "Oh my God," she enthused. "You bought me cashmere?" She gave Spike a big hug, causing Angel to glare at him. She then hugged Buffy too. "This is the best present ever!" "Cashmere is so nice," said Anya, looking a little envious. "Nice and expensive. I wish I had a cashmere sweater." She gazed at it longingly. "Maybe for your birthday, An," Xander said as he ate. "Why don't you open mine now?" suggested Angel. "It's the really big one." "I want to open Tara's next," said Cordy. She opened up an intricately wrapped box to reveal a set of three glass bottles. "They're homemade," said Tara apologetically. "But I know how much you like gardenia, and they are all scented with it. It's bath salts, shower gel and lotion." "Thanks so much," said Cordelia enthusiastically as she hugged the other girl. Angel cleared his throat and pointed at his gift. "Did you get me what I think you got me? The thing I dropped eight million hints about?" asked Cordelia. "That would be telling," Angel replied with a small smile. Cordelia clapped excitedly and unwrapped her present. Silence descended upon the room as they regarded her gift. "Isn't it great?" gushed Cordy. She turned to Angel and he opened his arms for a hug. She placed the box in his arms. "Can you carry that into the living room for me?" she asked him. Buffy pulled the blender out of a cabinet and set it up on the kitchen counter. Spike walked into the kitchen and playfully slapped her ass as he grabbed a bottle of rum from a cabinet. "Angel's going to be the first up to sing karaoke," he said delightedly. "You don't want to miss this." He went out to the living room. "Really classy guy you picked for yourself, Buff," Xander said as he grabbed a can of frozen margarita mix and a bowl of ice from the freezer. "Yep, he's a total Neanderthal. But I kind of like that in a guy." She rummaged in a cabinet, coming up with another bottle of rum. "I understand that you love him," he said, "but the appeal is really lost on me." "This party is supposed to be a smoothing over the edges, bonding experience," she reminded him. "So save the snarkiness for another time." She poured the ingredients in the blender and Xander hit the button. He poured them each a cup and they drank. "Tasty," he said as he slurped loudly. "Margaritas are such a good thing. I can feel the tension melting away," she said, as she rolled her shoulders. "What's cooking, drink-wise?" asked Willow as she came in the room. Feedback blared loudly. "Strawberry margaritas," said Buffy, as she handed her a cup. The three friends followed the noise to the living room. "Totally Eighties Hits or Pop Hits of the Nineties?" asked Spike. . "Eighties," said Cordelia. The vampire popped a disk into the karaoke machine and fiddled with the connection to the television set. A slow electronic beat filled the living room as lyrics scrolled across the screen. "Come on, Angel, you're up," said Cordelia. He took the microphone from her and looked at her plaintively. "Please?" she asked. "For me?" He sighed and nodded.