Technically speaking, Wesley had left Fandom as soon as he could on Saturday afternoon. Practically, however, it wasn't until Tuesday morning that, exhausted, he stepped back into the hotel with exactly half of his original luggage in hand.

And he was promptly nearly tackled by a wall of energy in the form of Fred. Despite everything, he had to ( Read more... )

It was another ordinary Monday night in Los Angeles, this time featuring Chinese take-out in lieu of a recent demon attack. This time, though, everyone wasn't so much bored as on-edge, and it was... possible that that might be showing. Just a bit.

It had been a full week since Cordelia's last vision, you see, so tensions were running... a bit ( Read more... )

It was hard to say, Wesley reflected, whether this past summer had been eventful or not. Yes, he, Cordelia and Gunn had been fairly busy most of the time -- killing Nester demons in Hancock Park, making contacts among the demon community, visiting Lorne -- but it seemed to him that "eventful" was a word reserved for a whole different level of busy ( Read more... )

Generally speaking this summer, evenings at the Hyperion were fairly noisy. After all the demonic activity had been dealt with for the day, dinner had been brought up to Fred's room for her to pick at and leave outside the door when she was done, and any slime from the aforementioned demon encounters had been washed off, Wes, Cordelia and Gunn ( Read more... )

Wesley was still finishing up his schoolwork and starting to wonder if he oughtn't get started booking a portal back to Fandom when there was a noise at the front door, and he looked up.

( In which ''beige Angel'' is an ass. )

Hours after Angel had gone off after Darla armed with a stake and a vengeance, Wesley looked up from his book -- homework, actually, if you wanted to get bogged down in specifics -- and asked what he supposed everyone was thinking.

( Or started to, anyway. )

( Unfortunately, it seemed that Angel's plan to go charging off after Darla hadn't been a raging success... )

It turned out that finding Darla hadn't really been the problem. Angel had found her without much trouble at all, actually. Brought her to the Hyperion, even. Only to discover that Darla -- four hundred-year-old Darla, human, formerly a syphilitic prostitute from the Virginia colony, yes Wesley did his research -- was now dying of the same disease ( Read more... )

Wesley was fond of Angel. Really, he was. And he quite liked working for Angel Investigations, and it certainly gave him a sense of purpose, but all the same... he had no interest at all in looking for this woman's address. No, while Cordelia might be poring over the telephone book, Wesley was focusing a bit more on something he considered rather ( Read more... )

Well. Much as Wesley might have liked to return to Fandom and spend the rest of his vacation curled up with his girlfriend where he ought to be right now, it turned out that that was not to be. Instead, he, Angel and Cordelia set off for the Franklin Hotel, the site of Mrs. Jeakins' supposed abductions, to conduct, well, a stakeout. Complete with ( Read more... )