Wedge walked into his office, covering a yawn with the back of one hand. These early starts were harder now than they used to be, but he had a lot of work to catch up on since his return from Adumar, and he had been avoiding it up until today. He had been back for over a week now, but he and Iella had been spending as much time together as they possibly could, trying to make up for a lot of lost years...
After flicking on his caf maker, Wedge moved towards his desk. He tilted his head to one side when he spotted a package lying next to his datapad. When he had stopped in the previous afternoon to pick up some of his messages, the package hadn't been there. He frowned at it, stealthily advancing to the desk, as he would approach a room full of armed stormtroopers. Looking over the top of the wrapped parcel, he noted that the only identifying mark on it was scrawled lettering reading "from Wes." Wedge backed up three steps, and then froze where he stood.
His eyes were the only part of him that moved, glancing around the room in search for holocams, listening devices, or buckets of water ready to drop onto his head. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he backed up again, as far as his door, which opened to let him out into the hallway beyond.
Figuring he was safe outside the office, Wedge searched up and down the corridor for any sign of Major Janson lurking about. But it was quiet, being so early in the day, and there was nowhere really for Wes to hide.
Sighing heavily, Wedge reentered his office, moving noiselessly over to his desk. He bent at the waist, resting his hands on his knees. He leaned to the left, then the right, searching for wires, oozing fluid, anything that would give him a clue to what joke Wes was trying to play on him this time. But there were no outward signs of a trap that Wedge could see. It was just a plain, wrapped box.
Wedge very gently picked up a stylus from the small pot next to his datapad, keeping a constant eye on the alien object. Gripping the instrumentby the tip, he very, very carefully poked the box, then jumped back a step, wincing.
Again taking the stylus by the end and slinking towards his desk, Wedge slowly moved the box a few centimeters across the smooth surface it rested on. It resisted slightly, the contents somewhat heavier than he would have expected. He waited...
But still, nothing happened. It didn't jump, burst into flames, or otherwise detonate in his face.
Wedge dropped the stylus on the desktop, standing with his hands on his hips, glaring at the unidentified object. He's put a lot of thought into this one, he mused to himself. Obviously has way to much time on his hands...
Moving around the piece of furniture, Wedge kept a constant eye on the package, as it if would sneak up on him if he looked away. He dropped into his chair, but almost instantly jumped out of it, looking down at the padding. Nothing. He rolled his eyes at himself, briefly double-checking that the chair wasn't rigged somehow.
Once again taking his seat, Wedge continued to stare at the plain box, believing that he could will his eyes to see through the wrapping to the contents within. Finally curiosity got the better of him and he had to open it.
He gingerly touched the box, tilting it backwards to quickly look at the underside. Satisfied that it appeared normal, he brought it closer, slowly detaching the magnetic tape holding the wrapping in place. Once that was removed, the brown paper fell aside, revealing a white box. There were no obvious markings, lettering, or anything else that hinted to its contents.
Grimacing slightly, his face turned to the side, one eye closed, Wedge flipped open the top of the box.
Leaning over his desk, Wedge peered into the now open box. Pulling out tissue-flim, he found a small card that simply read "Congratulations." Below that was a framed static holo of Wedge and Iella, taken a couple of days after their return from Adumar, the night that they had announced their engagement. Wedge leaned back in his chair, smiling at the holo as he held it up in front of him.
He chuckled to himself. As much as Wes Janson was a practical joker, he was even more of a romantic.