As his father bids...
"I want you to go over to the British Museum and fetch Rupert Giles. He's needed here at the Council, not at that bloody hobby of his."
His father's words ringing in his ears, Wesley sat on the Underground's Picadilly Line, his arms crossed over his chest, not happy to have to be doing this at all. He had been hard at work on a translation in the Council library until his father had come in and pulled him out to send him on this errand. It was as if his own work wasn't important. For a moment, Wesley had wanted to say no - after all, he had been a full-fledged member of the Council for a year now, and errands like this were for Initiates.
But of course, when he had opened his mouth, he had acquiesced and quickly closed his books, straightening up his work area before picking up his suit jacket and slipping it on. The weather was rather nippy outside, so he had also grabbed his heavier coat from the cloakroom before heading out.
The weather didn't help his mood any. He had been so close to figuring out the declension of the demon language, and now that discovery had been delayed.
"I still don't know why they let that reprobate back into the Council, even after all these years. Nothing but trouble, that one, since the day he started at the Academy. Oh, but his grandmother and his father were Chairs of the Council. I suppose some people have to use their relations to make their way. You know better than that, don't you, boy?"
Of course, he did. He had learned very early that he was to never ask his father for help - he was to figure it out himself or not at all. And not at all was never an option.
So hearing that someone had used his family relations after having apparently left or been dismissed from the Council didn't sit well with Wesley. Especially when that person was apparently shirking his duties. And now he was causing him to put aside his own duties to fetch him.
When the tube train reached Russell Square, Wesley pushed his way through the oncoming crowd of people trying to get on and headed for the exit. It had started to drizzle while he had been below ground - and that just made this trip all the better - so he found himself hunching in his coat as he hurried as fast as he could down Great Russell Street to the museum.
The museum was busy with school outings and tourists loitering around. Wesley stopped for a moment to clean his glasses, then walked over to the information desk to inquire where he might find Rupert Giles. After a few moments, he was directed to the lower level to a closed area.
When he reached the gallery, he stopped for a moment, looking around until he saw a man on the other side. Straightening up, he threw his shoulders back and marched over. This Mister Giles had better not give him any problems as he had work he had to return to in short order.
"Rupert Giles? My name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. I've been sent by the Council to fetch you as you're needed straight away."