wesleynotponcy: (warrior: serious contemplative close-up)
So, finding and helping Cordelia? Actually hadn't been that difficult. A small, petty part of Wesley wondered whether Angel's help had been needed at all. Sure, Wesley and Gunn had been snatched up by the Skilosh demons almost immediately after they'd begun sneaking into the house, but they might have fought their way out. Angel, though, had rushed in before they actually could, swinging an sledgehammer around and taking out the Skiloshes while Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia managed to untie themselves. Typical Angel. Charging in and playing the hero in the most dramatic fashion possible.

Most of Wesley knew that that wasn't fair, that Angel had helped them, but at the moment he wasn't feeling mature enough to care.

At the moment -- back at their new offices, where he was seated at the desk on the phone while Gunn patched up a scrape on Cordelia's shoulder -- he was just feeling a little bit tired and annoyed.

Which was why it was exceptionally poor timing that that was when Angel walked in. )

[[nfb/nfi, taken from angel 2x16 "epiphany", and i wish i could say that was the end of me spamming you for a bit, but... uh.]]
wesleynotponcy: (warrior: defiant)

The debacle with the Sharpes had left Angel Investigations in a bit of a slump. When more than a day passed without so much as a phone call from another prospective client, and Cordelia found herself decidedly lacking in visions, Wesley couldn't think of anything to do besides give the others the night off. He stayed in the office for another few hours himself, and then, once it sunk in that there wasn't actually any work to be done, took a cab back to his place.

And there he sat, darkly and only half-seriously considering the idea of summoning a demon or two just to have something to fight, until he heard a noise.

And then he heard it again. )

[[nfb/nfi, some mild violence under the cut]]
wesleynotponcy: (neu: checking someone out)
In Wesley's universe, it had now been nearly a month since he'd graduated. In that time, he'd fallen into a sort of routine with Charles and Cordelia, one that continued to surprise him with how comfortable it was.

They worked in an office -- they had an actual office now, believe it or not; it was quite a step up from Cordelia's apartment, with no offense intended to Phantom Dennis, of course -- and took regular trips to the local demon karaoke bar, Caritas. They had amassed a fairly impressive client list for such a new (or recently-reworked, depending upon how you looked at it) business, and were making a decent amount of money. Wesley still couldn't believe that he was in charge of their little operation, being the youngest of the group and neither precognitive nor especially muscular, but there he was. He made good calls reasonably often, he made bad calls slightly less so, but he'd yet to lose the respect of the rest of his team, and all in all he thought he was doing a fairly decent job.

Then there was, of course, the matter of Angel. He and Wesley hadn't spoken since Angel had fired them all. Cordelia had seen him more recently -- the night of Wesley's accident, apparently, Angel had come by the hospital, and Cordelia had shooed him away. That was certainly food for thought, but it wasn't something Wesley felt particularly compelled to dwell upon at this moment.

At this moment? He was removing a demon eye from the back of a little girl's head.

Or he just had, anyway. )

[[NFB, obviously. open for phone calls!]]
wesleynotponcy: (neu: resolute)
So. This was what it felt like to have one's own place.


Wesley glanced over at Cordelia. Then at Charles. Then after several attempts to come up with something to say, he finally cleared his throat.

"It's not... terribly spacious, or perhaps as... luxurious as the dormitories, but it'll do."

Cordelia beamed and launched into a rant of sorts, clearly proud of her apartment-finding skills; Charles, on the other hand, looked decidedly more skeptical about the whole thing, but let it alone with just a head-shake and a couple of steps away from the creaking cabinets overhead.

"I, ah, I suppose I'd best get on with unpacking, then," Wesley said after a pause. "I'll see you both at Cordelia's in the morning?"

And then he could, well, get started with taking down some of the paintings that had been left behind, because they were just creepy.

[[nfb/nfi, obvs]]
wesleynotponcy: (neu: chill)
By the time he was ready to leave, Wesley only had a duffel bag and a backpack to take with him, and the rest of his things had been donated or thrown away. He kept looking around his room as if to verify that he hadn't missed some enormous pile of something, because really, it didn't seem right that he could've spent almost two years here and emerge with so little belongings.

But he had the important things: Gunderson's Index of Demons, which had transformed into a person that time in 2010; his stash of weapons, including a bated sword, a stake from a memorable encounter, and a ridiculously expensive bow he'd bought a year ago that had never quite fit him; some clothing that he'd probably wear in Los Angeles and some, like a tuxedo with sentimental value and a grey uniform he couldn't help glowering at that he probably wouldn't; a classy campaign flyer and a vastly less classy counterpart; a tiny silver watch that confused him until he realized who it had probably come from; a few limbs from some mechanical spiders; a flyer announcing a meeting; an admission ticket to a zoo; a graduation cap and gown and a diploma he'd already managed to crumple a little.

He was heading off on his own, contrary to the plan he'd held for the better part of the school year. Which was naturally upsetting, and he'd likely be getting a tad drunk with Cordelia when he got back to Los Angeles, but right now he was focusing on what it felt like to be leaving Fandom after two entire years, now that he'd completed what had been meant as a punishment for his failure in Sunnydale but had turned out to be quite a bit more than that.

It was disorienting, to say the least, but he was fairly certain that he was ready for it.

[[open exit post before he departs and moves to alum status, yeah]]


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