The Collecting of Thoughts

[prodigalwatcher]

Even after she and then Cordelia had both left the office, after custodial services had cleared away the remnants of our feast, Fred's words regarding her unusual experiences so far this day stayed with me.

"Well, when I got here this morning, other than I visit to drop off some mail... I haven't seen anyone today, I mean any of ya'll. I went

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[da_lilah]

When Fred had asked me to go get a fresh sample of the preserving fluid in Permanent storage, I'd been ready to snap her head off in reply. I mean what did I look like to her? Some errand-girl intern? Then I wondered if maybe she had an ulterior motive, sending me off on a task so that if Wesley showed up she'd have no competition. Maybe that was it. Well, two could play at that game

[pryce_the_elder]

With the questions piling up, and the answers being nowhere near as numerous, both Kennedy and myself were very close to the limits of our patience. The young woman's face turned serious and determined, and I at last was seeing the strength that the survivors of Sunnydale had described, and not a moment too soon

[dark_wesley]

My hand had hovered over the receiver for only a second or two before the office door swung open, skimming fast over the carpet propelled by the force of nature stepping through the opening. Lilah entered my office, like the leading edge of a storm, already disrupted, but holding the promise of chaos, destruction and rage behind her. And the way her eyes bored holes into my own also promised the thunder to come.

I was on my feet and around the desk in a heartbeat, ready to meet the tempest head-on. Ther was nothing that Lilah could say that would faze me now.

"You know what, you have some damn nerve for treating me the way you did earlier. Want to know what that's for, lover boy? That's for kissing me back."Lilah's hand was a blur, and then my vision flashed white for a blink, accompanied by a sharp, stinging pain. My eyes widened as my own hand reached up to my face, touching the still-tender spot and scratching absently at the stubble beneath

[da_lilah]

A polite if somewhat pointed cough brought me back to my senses. I turned around to see a wizened, and yet stately older man standing with arms crossed in the doorway.

"Well, I have to admit, Wesley, you have at last caught me completely by surprise."Judging from the man's british accent, and hawkish demeanor, I concluded that his had to be none other than Wesley's infamous father. Which of course was confirmed when Wesley transformed from an outraged lover into a bumbling son trying appease an unforgiving parent in the blink of an eye

[pryce_the_elder]

"Father... I didn't know you were coming, Father-- Is mother with you? What brings you to Los Angeles?"

I crossed my arms as Wesley flustered his way through his surprise, and apparently, consternation at my appearance here in his office, particularly at the moment I'd arrived.

"As if I would subject your poor mother to this ghastly place and this beastly city. And if you're half as bright as your mother has always thought you to be, then you know right well why I'm here."

A response to that was not forthcoming, it seemed, as Wesley proceeded to demonstrate the unfortunate lack of coordination that had plagued him since adolescence, though typically only in the most unfortunate of moments. Given the excellent marks he would otherwise show in physical education, I was forced to ascribe it to a mental failing, one of exceptional nervousness. Sighing, I waited for my son to stand up and stop fiddling about with papers.

"Father, this is Lilah Morgan, one of our liaisons here to the, ah, Senior Partners. Lilah Morgan, my father,

[prodigalwatcher]

"As if I would subject your poor mother to this ghastly place and this beastly city. And if you're half as bright as your mother has always thought you to be, then you know right well why I'm here."

I sighed. "Yes, yes of course," I answered quietly. He was here to check up on me. Oh, I was sure that the Council would officially state that Father's task was to observe the inner workings of the new Wolfram & Hart and determine whether or not Angel and the rest of us had made a deal with the devil which we would not be able to use to our advantage. Ostensibly, that would be the case, but more correctly and more importantly, Father was here to look in on me.

As I fought for some composure and comportment after spilling the papers to the floor, I found myself with very little. I also found myself resenting deeply the sudden resurgence of the Wesley-that-was, the clumsiness and the unsurety and the encompassing insecurity. And yet, there it all was, it is coloful and mortifying glory.

"Mr Wyndam-Pryce. Well, this is an honor.

[da_lilah]

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