Title: Revenge is Sweet

Series: Transitions

Author: Criss Moody

Date: April 12^th 2000

Distribution: Archives of the lists the receive this, yes. Anyone else, ask.

Spoilers: mild for other stories in this series, but nothing for the series.

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Angel/Wesley

Content Warning: m/m relationship inferred, and gratuitous use of whipped cream.

Feedback: I love it, I want more of it.

Summary: Wesley has his revenge.

Disclaimer: Joss and his buddies own these guys, I'm just doing odd things with them at 3am.

Notes: This is silly. Be warned. Loosely, this is in my Transitions series, but it can be read separately.

Revenge is Sweet, by c.moody.

Cold, wet cream gushed out into an out-stretched palm, attached to a long, muscled arm, a well-defined shoulder, which led up to a disgustingly handsome face, with a low-hanging brow that just defied description.

Revenge was sweet.

Wesley had a deep streak of the devil in him that his relationship with Angel had freed. And Mr. Wyndham-Pryce had decided that his lover needed to pay for his actions. Exactly what actions and why pulling juvenile pranks would satisfy them was unclear. But Wesley was on a mission.

And that mission included a large can of ReddiWhip, a feather, and being able to run very quickly.

After carefully filling his lover's elegant hand with the sweet treat, Wesley carefully backed away from the bed. He reached down and grasped the peacock feather he'd laid by the side of the bed.

Ever so slowly, he tickled Angel's nose with the feather. Angel grunted. Wesley held his breath. Nothing. Another soft sweep of the feather, this time across the inviting mouth. The vampire grunted and shifted. Nothing else. This time, Wesley took the feather and glided into the soft, perfect shell of one ear, then up the chin, and circled the nose.

SMACK!!!SQUISH!!!

Wesley nearly cackled as the cream smashed all over the vampire's oh-so-perfect face, and Angel's eyes flew open. The cream had been shoved up his nose and into his beloved hair. Angel looked first at his hand in disbelief, and then at Wesley. The second Wesley saw the murderous gleam in his love's eyes, he leapt away from the bed and sprinted up the stairs, bare-assed naked, Angel in hot pursuit, equally as naked.

Before the door slammed in his face, Angel dimly heard Cordelia's voice.

"He's gonna kill you for this one. And I'll help. Juvenile moron."

The detective slid down to the floor and briefly considered going for the elevator before deciding against it. With a sly grin on his face, he delicately cleaned his face and then hand of the sweet, luscious whipped cream.

He'd get his revenge later.