Chapter Two – Wake Up

"Wes. Wes. Wake up, honey. Are you OK?"

Wesley couldn't see the face that was leaning over him until it came closer and into a little more focus. He knew exactly to whom the face belonged; she just wasn't clear in his eyes. Until she placed his glasses back on his face. As he tried to move, Cordelia placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't try and move. The ambulance will be here in no time. You scared me there."

He saw that she didn't have any apparent injuries, making him feel somewhat better. The memory of a car flashed through his brain, making him turn his head sideways to see what, if any damage anyone else had received.

"What happened?"

"Some guy ran a red light. If you hadn't thought on your feet, we'd be plastered all over the pavement. Only a couple of scrapes. But you've been out for a few minutes."

Wesley finally noticed the paramedic standing over him.

"I'm all right, Cordelia. Honestly."

Slowly, Wesley sat up on the pavement. Somewhere he had lost his helmet. So had Cordelia. She had streaks of tears running down her face. He brought his fingers up to brush them away. Smiling down at him, she held his hand in place over her cheek.

"That was way too scary," she whispered.

"I'm really fine," he tried to convince her.

Before he had time to take a breath, her head descended, placing a light kiss on his lips. They were warm and soft on top of his. Sighing, she rested her forehead on his.

She was just scared, he thought. Scared that he was injured. She couldn't still feel anything towards him other than friendship. She had done nothing to indicate that she was still interested in him. Of course, the last kiss they had shared would have melted the polar icecaps if it had continued. Or he would have turned to jello in her arms. He thanked his lucky stars that time he had done it right.

The sounds of the ambulance and the paramedics broke up their time together. By the time Wesley was released from the hospital, it was midday.

"Let me call Angel. Tell him to pick us up."

"Cordelia, the sun," he pointed out.

"Yeah, usually the sun is up at about one o'clock in the afternoon," she joked with him.

Only he wasn't available. Gunn pulled up in his beat up old pickup about twenty minutes later.

"It better have been just a scratch, Cordy."

"I'm fine, Gunn," Wesley told the man as he and Cordelia climbed in.

"That big scrape down your hand says otherwise. Cordy says that you were the man though."

"Excuse me?" Wesley wanted to know what Cordelia told him.

"That you saved her life. Might mean that she owes you big time, dog."

Cordelia actually blushed. Wesley had never seen her blush, ever. He hoped that Gunn was not referring to what he thought the man was referring to or he would have to have words with Gunn.

"No, no. Quite all right. No one owes anyone anything," he said quickly, hoping that he hadn't embarrassed Cordelia any more.

She reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing lightly.

"Always the gentleman," Gunn said as he drove to the hotel. "Or at least until you get her alone."

"Gunn," Wesley shouted. "I'll have you know, that is not how I would treat her."

"Not from what she's told me."

"Oh Gunn, stuff it," Cordelia answered back without much venom.

An awkward silence enveloped the cab of the truck, until they arrived back at the hotel. Wesley followed the other two inside the gates of the hotel grounds. Once upon a time, the small garden there had been lovely when someone had tended it. A few roses still did bloom, although no one took that much care of them. Only when he stepped through the gate, the place was in full bloom. Roses, jasmine, lavender, it smelled like heaven. And it was not the way he had seen it eight hours before. Stopping in his tracks, he stood and looked over the transformation. Something was not right.

"Hey, Wes," a voice said behind him.

"Sun," Wesley shouted as he turned to see Angel, standing in full sunlight.

The vampire wasn't exploding in a fireball, or smoking, or turning to dust. He had on a short sleeve t-shirt and gardening gloves.

"You, we, I . . ., I have to sit down," Wesley stammered.

He's not a vampire, he's not a vampire, Wesley's brain chanted over and over. Or he had the Gem of Amara on. Or he shanshued finally. How long was he really unconscious?

Angel took one arm as Cordelia tugged on the other. Wesley could feel heat radiate off of Angel as they led him to the stairs, out of the sun.

"You're human," Wesley finally said as he sat down with a thump.

"Uh, yeah, Wes. Are you sure you shouldn't be in the hospital still? Cordy said that you were fine."

"I'm not fine," he mumbled. Not fine indeed, he contemplated.

"We are takin' you back, man. Head injuries can be serious. Remember when Alonna got knocked in the head by that baseball?"

"Didn't she get stitches from that?" Cordelia pointed out.

"She's dead. Your sister's dead," Wesley muttered, thinking that something was definitely wrong with the picture.

"Uh, Wes. She's not dead. You saw her yesterday. Gave her that recipe for blueberry scones. Remember?"

He didn't remember any of this. Angel was human. Gunn's sister was alive. Cordelia looked at him with tears in her eyes. Reality was warped. Or he was still unconscious and this was the way his brain was dealing with the trauma.

"It's all fuzzy," he answered convincingly. He didn't want them to suspect that this world he created in his brain wasn't real.

"You're tellin' me. Alonna cooking? It's like Cordy's coffee."

"Still bad," Wesley said as he gripped his head tight.

"Hey. Tell Mr. Cheap Skate over there to buy better beans," Cordelia told them.

Some things hadn't changed, thank God.

"It's called frugal. We can't exactly afford Starbuck's beans."

"Well, it's the dollar store ones for us, bucko. So no complainin' about my coffee making skills," Cordelia pointed out.

"Looks like party time out here and no one invited me," came a shout from the door.

Wesley's head swam at the thought that his brain was making this all up. Especially the voice that was attached to the owner that was standing at the door of the hotel.

"Man, don't tell me that in addition to takin' down the Big Dog, you cracked that hard head of yours open? Cuz, I just thought it would never happen."

"Faith," Angel admonished the girl.

"Sorry Bossman. Just playin' with him. Get in here so I can see the damage."

"She's in jail," he whispered as he arose from the steps. "This isn't happening. I want to wake up now."

"He's muttering to himself again. Is that the first sign of a concussion?" Gunn asked Cordelia.

"The doctor did say that if there's any strange behavior, to bring him back."

"No, no. No more hospital," Wesley announced, just wanting to wait it out and wake up in his own world.

"Do you know how much it's gonna cost to fix your ride?" Faith asked as they all entered the hotel.

Only it wasn't the drab, dreary hotel that he knew. This one had plants, and carpets, and color. Something he and Cordy had wanted Angel to do. Angel had wanted to leave it as it was. Less to clean up when a demon came knocking on their door.

"Faith, will you stop. He might have a concussion," Cordelia chided the woman.

"Yeah, he's a tough SOB. Takes enough punishment from me."

Angel snickered at her comment. Wesley's eyes went wide with that. Was Faith the bad seed in this reality? Cordelia peeled Wesley out of his leather jacket, hanging it up on a coat rack. Angel disappeared into his office while Faith made her way upstairs.

"Hey, I've gotta pick up Alonna from school. You be OK with him?" he asked Cordelia.

"I'm not a child, Gunn," Wesley replied for her.

"I know. Be good for Cordy though."

And he was being treated as such.

"Gunn?" Cordelia started. "Go away. Tell Alonna I said hi."

"Will do. Take care of his ass. Remember what I said? Make her give you something special," Gunn snickered as he left.

Wesley sat on one of the sofas, wondering how he was going to wake himself up. How does one go about waking oneself? Or he could be in a coma? Or dead, God forbid? Portal? Another dimension he flew into when he crashed? But where was his Cordelia?

"Babe, why don't you go upstairs and rest?"

"Am I supposed to rest, Cordelia? I have no idea."

She looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. Usually when he was hurt, she threw bandages his way and told him to take care of it. When she did play nursemaid, she grumbled the whole time.

"Gunn's right. I'm yours now, to do whatever you wish with me," Cordelia purred in his ear.

Shivers ran down his spine with thoughts of what he could do with Cordelia. But no. It would be wrong. He really did need to wake up.

"You don't have to pay me back."

Slowly, Cordelia climbed into his lap, straddling his middle. Wesley sucked in his breath, praying that no one would see what she was doing. Or that maybe someone would save him.

"Try and stop me," she whispered as her mouth teased his lips.

"We shouldn't do this," he tried to stop her.

"Sorry. I've been waiting to do this all day. You're not getting away from me, mister."

As Cordelia rubbed her hands through his hair, she placed light kisses on his forehead and cheeks. The room was becoming entirely too warm for Wesley. He almost yelped as she sucked in his earlobe. And the faint action that her hips had started performing wasn't helping matters, one bit.

"We need to stop," Wesley panted out as Cordelia's hands started to stroke his chest.

"Not yet. Don't worry. The boss is usually fine, just so we don't take any clothes off."

"God, you people. Get a room," Faith yelled as she came bounding down the steps.

"We already have a room," Cordelia shot back. "I'm just trying to convince him to use it."

Faith laughed and waved at them as she exited the building. In no way would Wesley take advantage of this Cordelia. The repercussions he couldn't fathom. Slowly, he pulled her hands away from his body.

"We need to talk," he announced while he held her hands steady.

"Uh, yeah. If it's about the amount I spent on that dress, in my defense it was on sale, honey. You know me," she begged.

She called him honey, again. And he did know his Cordelia. She would never call him anything endearing like that.

"No. It's not that. There's something else. Something a little more serious. Maybe we should call Angel in here."

"Wes, you're scaring me. Again, for the second time today. What gives?" Tears formed in her eyes and she gasped. "You're not breaking up with me, are you?"

Oh great. He was actually dating Cordelia? The things his mind has invented astounded him. Not in his wildest dreams would Cordy ever date him. The flirtation in Sunnydale had been just that, flirting. Until that fateful, excruciatingly painful kiss they had shared.

"No, no. No breaking up. I just feel that there's something not quite right."

"I knew it. We shouldn't have been so hot to trot to get you out of that hospital."

Maybe she had it right, he thought. Maybe if he went back, they would look into what was going on and conclude that he was either comatose or insane.

"Oh, baby. We should go back, now."

"Hey, where are ya goin'? I just got back," another voice shouted out from the door.

Wesley turned to find a man, not too much younger than he was, dressed in a jacket and blue jeans. His black hair and bright blue eyes stood out against his pale skin. The Irish lilt in his voice was unmistakable. He knew of this man, he just didn't really know him personally.

"Doyle, I'm glad you're here. Wes isn't feeling right. I think we should take him back to the hospital."

"Faith told me you took a tumble," Doyle answered back.

The man was dead. He had died right in front of Angel and Cordelia.

"What day is it?" Wesley asked out of the blue.

"Uh, it's Thursday," Cordelia slowly told him.

"No, the date, the date," Wesley hurriedly wanted to know.

"It's December 9th."

In his reality it was only the beginning of November. One would think that his brain would keep the same date too.

"Year?"

"2004," Cordelia answered, worry etched on her face.

Wrong year, he groaned inwardly. It was only the year 2000. So not only was he in the wrong month, he was in the wrong year also.

"Tell me how long we've been in this hotel, doing the business that we do?" he asked her pointedly.

"We've been here for three years come January." They had just moved in. "We're a detective agency." Now that was the same. "Our last case was that kidnapping. Remember?" No kidnapping in his reality.

Looking around the room, there was no weapons cabinet to speak of. His library didn't sit on the shelves off in the distance. People who should have been dead, or in prison, were employed by the agency. He was dating Cordelia, maybe even living with her. And Angel wasn't a vampire.

"I don't remember," he replied hesitantly. "I don't belong here. Send me back."

Cordelia looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was.

"Angel," Cordelia yelled. "Angel. Now."

TBC

Next: Wesley thinks he is going crazy. The gang get another case.

Author notes: Much shorter chapters than my previous fics, because this one will not be as long. I hope I've whetted everyone's appetites. So please read and review! Oh, and another thing, roses do bloom in Southern California in December. They'd bloom all year round if they weren't pruned. I know, because I have about forty of those babies ready to be handled. I'd rather write!

Thanks go out to Pylea Princess, SPIKEANDKELSIE, Imzadi, Cayt, pari106 and everyone else. I was in the mood for a holiday fic. This is it!

Answers to questions:

Imzadi—Snow comes in before all the major Darla business and before Guise Will Be Guise. Then it goes AU after that (of course it does, since everyone has changed).

Cayt—Cordy's not going to be as snippy because this will be the "other" Cordy. I've never been able to replicate that back and forth with her. It's really hard to do. But I like it when she's sweet.

Pari106—I miss season two. There are so many great episodes. I really liked how all the characters were handled in that season, including the Angel broodiness.