wesleynotponcy: (neg: i fucked up)
You wouldn't steal a handbag. You wouldn't steal a car. You wouldn't shoot a policeman, then steal his helmet. You wouldn't go to the toilet in his helmet, then send it to his grieving widow and then steal it again! Then why would you steal a baby? )

[[WHEEEE. nfb, actually open for phone messages and texts because it's his damn birthday but he's not going to be answering just yet on account of what just happened. adapted from angel 3x16 "sleep tight" and heavily anticipated by yours truly for an unhealthily long time. BEST BIRTHDAY EVER, amirite?]]
wesleynotponcy: (conv: library)

It seemed to be the case fairly often lately, and today was no exception, that Wesley found himself with the unenviable task of changing the baby while the others socialized in a different room. It wasn't that he resented this position -- after all, he supposed he had to admit that of the entire Angel Investigations team, he was the one most equipped to change Connor efficiently and with a minimum of singing (Lorne), whining (Cordelia) or attempting to complicate the matter by using pins (Angel). Still, he didn't exactly love it when he found himself stuck in one room, overhearing the others elsewhere in the hotel but unable to fully join into the conversation.

"Morning, friends and neighbors!" Gunn greeted Angel, Cordelia and -- theoretically -- Wesley as he stepped into the lobby with Fred at his side. "Ooh, are those the tickets? You got 'em?"

There were tickets, all right... )

[[taken and adapted from angel 3x13, "waiting in the wings." 'stablishy, but open for phone calls!]]

wesleynotponcy: (arms crossed: look down)
Now, a week might have gone by in Fandom time since Angel's son's birth, but for Wesley and the rest of the Angel Investigations team, it had only been two days.

Over the course of those two days, Lorne had moved in (something about his club being firebombed as a result of the eighteenth-century vampire hunter who wanted to kill them all), quite a few groups had continued to seek after the baby in order to kill him or eat him or whatever it was that such groups did, and Angel had proved persistently unwilling to let anyone else so much as hold him.

Lorne called it a Mama Bear vibe. The rest of them called it irritating. )

That night, Angel was still anxious and refusing to let anyone else watch or touch the baby. Fred pulled an all-nighter in the office with Gunn for company as he came in with batches of weapons every few hours before leaving again, while Wesley and Cordelia did their work upstairs, each of them uncomfortable with the noise of the baby crying but aware that Angel didn't want any help.

Then in the morning, Lorne slipped Angel a piece of paper offhandedly, and their whole approach changed.

Oooh, a private strategy session. )

[[nfb/nfi. top bit is from angel 3x10 "dad," second part by me. idek.]]
wesleynotponcy: (conv: yes?)

Taking Darla to Caritas was a process that involved multiple escape attempts, a minor attack on Gunn, and, worst of all, the creeping suspicion that Angel would have to sing when they got there. Fortunately, that was not the case, and all that happened once they arrived was that Darla was laid down in Lorne's room to rest while Cordelia stood guard.

This ended in Cordelia getting herself bitten while Darla escaped, leaving only the convenient vision Cordelia got at the moment of the bite as a clue to where she went.

And so it was that two hours later, Angel returned to the hotel, bruised and with a distraught-looking Darla in tow.

Beat up by a pregnant lady. Good job, Angel. )

[[tweaked from 3x07 "offspring." nfb/open for phone calls! last post of the day yaaaay.]]

wesleynotponcy: (neu: scopey sneaky)

A day after Wesley and Gunn had -- successfully, thank you very much -- retrieved the Nyazian scroll from that man's home, the two of them were working on translating the text at the hotel's front desk when loud voices could be heard from downstairs. As far as Wesley knew, Cordelia and Angel were just sparring as usual, though he thought Fred might have gone down to watch this time, but it certainly shouldn't be an activity that required shouting.

He glanced at Gunn. "Nah, this is on you, man," Gunn said at once.

Wesley sighed, and went downstairs to investigate. )


In which there is translation, exposition, and a visitor. )

[[also from 3x07 "offspring." nfb, nfi!]]

wesleynotponcy: (neg: at my very worst)
Wesley had only ever really had one coping mechanism. Just one, and not a very good one, either.

It involved sitting and drinking expensive scotch in the dark. It wasn't healthy, but it was what he did.

He had never considered that it might be interrupted by someone knocking on the door, though; for a brief moment, he thought of Karla, and the time she'd interrupted his grief over the Hunger Games. That was ridiculous, though. No one was going to do that now. Not unless it was Charles coming up to ask him to find someplace else to live from now on.

The voice wasn't Gunn's, though. It was Fred's.

''Wesley? Wesley, it's me.'' )

[[last one from 3x06 "billy." OW OW OW.]]
wesleynotponcy: (neg: pursed lips)
If this weren't Wesley Wyndam-Pryce -- a man who, frankly, would go on to make some truly horrifying mistakes that would greatly upset the fabric of his universe, some of them within the next few months -- it might be easy to say that going to the crime scene and taking a sample of Billy's blood from the patrol car door was one of the worst mistakes he'd ever make. But this was Wesley, and his bad decisions were soon to be legendary, so that wouldn't be entirely fair.

It was a pretty big mistake, though. )

[[nfb/nfi, adapted from angel 3x06 "billy" once again. THIS IS SO GROSS AND I FEEL GROSS. warning for just aaall the sexist language/violence/whathaveyou ever under the cut, though it's cut a lot from the episode because icky. and i'm gonna go barf now.]]
wesleynotponcy: (?: worried)
After implicating Billy Blim as responsible for that woman's murder, the next logical step was for Angel to trek out to the Blim estate and stop him from doing it again. Or, well, actually Wesley and Gunn went along as well, but only Angel had been able to hop the fence.

What he ended up stumbling upon was Billy getting arrested -- by two police officers, a man and a woman -- for supposedly phoning in an unexplained tip for another crime, this one a woman's drowning.

Back at the hotel, the team was piecing that together.

"My contact at the city morgue confirms it," Wesley said, hanging up the phone. "Her body was discovered earlier tonight. A young woman was reported missing three days ago. Someone phoned in a tip."

What's that saying about three times making a pattern? Yeah... )

[[nfi/nfb, 3x06 "billy" again, and another mild mention of violence under the cut.]]
wesleynotponcy: (?: side-eye)
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 smile -- it was endearing, even as tired as he was.

"Wesley!" Fred squealed, hugging him with surprising force before bouncing backward to look up at him. "You'll never guess what happened this weekend. Go on, guess, I'll wait."

She actually did seem to be waiting. Wesley paused. "Er," he said. "Killer... lobster demons?"

He wasn't really sure why that of all things had popped into his head.

"No, silly!" Of course. How could he have been so foolish. "My mom and dad showed up!"

Well. That was certainly significant. "Really?"

"Yuh-huh!" Fred agreed. "And at first I was scared 'cause I didn't want 'em to see me an' know all about what happened to me, so I tried to run away and there was this icky bug demon tryin' to attack everyone so we got sidetracked, and my mom killed it, or at least we thought she killed it. And then we went back home, I mean here to the hotel, and everythin' was good for a while until I kept thinkin' about how it didn't make sense for me to be here, not when there's already you and Gunn and Cordy, so I started to leave with my parents until I realized there had to be more of the bug things, and that goes all the way back to when Angel took me for ice cream the other night, but anyway I came back and I catapulted it with a thing I made and I decided to stay after that and here I am."

Wesley blinked. "Here you are," he echoed, fixing her with a sincere smile. "I'm glad you decided to stay."

"I'm glad too," Fred said, looking up at him with that oddly intense gaze of hers.

There was a moment's pause. Wesley wondered -- would now perhaps be a good time to--

"Well," he said. "Since I seem to have missed all the action, how would you like to go out for some pizza, Fred?"

Her eyes lit up. "Sure!"

"Excellent," Wesley said, and it actually really was.

"Let me just go get Cordy and Gunn," Fred said, before sticking two fingers in her mouth and whistling sharply. Then she set off toward the stairs to the basement, where they were probably fighting over setting the rat traps again. "Cordy! Gunn! There's gonna be pizza!"

Wesley exhaled slowly, suddenly re-feeling that exhaustion that had gone away once Fred had started talking. Then he set down his bags and started rummaging for his wallet.

[[NFB/NFI/OOC-okay! i totally made this up because i didn't want to do a catchup for this episode and [livejournal.com profile] brat_inslayage agreed it was unnecessary, but holy crap fred is hard to write from scratch. events taken from angel 3x05 "fredless," la la la.]]
wesleynotponcy: (awk: forced smile)
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 awkward.

Oooh, dinner and a vision )

Proactivity: Always a valued trait in demon detectives. )

[[la la la usual weekly spam. 1/3 for today, and adapted from angel 3x02 "that vision thing."]]
wesleynotponcy: (conv: pretty serious)
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: a week in a hell dimension, for example, or some sort of long-term Fandom invasion.

His persective might have been somewhat skewed, come to think of it.

But really, with Angel gone -- he'd departed for Sri Lanka nearly three months ago to deal with his grief over Buffy's recent death -- there just wasn't anything too huge going on in the Los Angeles demon world. Or even in Sunnydale, as far as Wesley knew, though that might have to do with Willow and Dawn not taking his calls. No, without Angel around, everything in Wesley's world was just... ordinary. Standard demon hunts, clients, visions, the usual.

Today's bout of perfectly-ordinary demon hunting involved a Mu-rite demon clan, a group of very misguided demon summoners, and a whole lot of demon pus sticking to Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia's clothes as they trudged through the hotel courtyard into the Hyperion. )

[[hey look, the kickoff to a year of spam! oh, season three. you are not nice to this boy at all. taken and adapted a bit from angel 3x01, "heartthrob," which, fun fact, aired eleven years ago today. a pattern that will continue with the rest of the posts for this season, just cuz.]]
wesleynotponcy: (Default)
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 would collapse in the chairs in the lobby with take-out containers and just talk at each other until they were too tired to stay up. Then, more often than not, Cordy and Gunn found themselves claiming rooms upstairs for the night -- driving on LA freeways after a day of demon-fighting was hard -- and Wes retired to his usual room, and sleep came really, really quicky.

It was a good system.

Tonight, though, it was quiet. There hadn't really been much demonic activity today, and as a result Cordelia and Gunn had gone home at a reasonable hour. Fred was... doing whatever she did on nights like these, and Wesley was left sitting by the desk with Chinese take-out and one hand halfway to the phone in case any calls came in.

Look, after a while the quiet just got eerie.

[[open for phone calls!]]
wesleynotponcy: (reading: important research)
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. )

[[aaaaand done. about half of this is from angel 2x10, "reunion." nfb/nfi.]]
wesleynotponcy: (neu: curious)
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. )

[[nfb/nfi and ALMOST DONE.]]
wesleynotponcy: (conv: library)
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 that had plagued her the first time she was human. And had several months to live.

Angel, predictably, was a little upset and had proceeded to shut himself up in the basement over it. )

[[from angel 2x09 "the trial", and nfb/nfi. god i have fucked with this arc's timeline so, so much.]]
wesleynotponcy: (reading: wait wut)
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 more important: looking up Darla herself.

"Having any luck?" Cordelia called over her phone book from the front desk.

Wesley froze. "I'm sorry?"

''Luck'' was such a vague word... )

Not long afterward, the phone rang... )
[[stuff under the top cut is all mine, in a very 'dear god wesley is not holding the idiot ball for this long' sort of way, and most of what's under the second cut is from angel 2x05 "dear boy." nfi/nfb.]]
wesleynotponcy: (fact: stakeout)
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 bugs planted on the bar, an earwig in Angel's ear, and a tiny camera in Wesley's hand. It was difficult not to feel a bit foolish.

Though Wesley supposed it could be worse. At least he wasn't in a skimpy waitress getup like Cordelia was.

Fortunately, that sort of costume on him probably wouldn't be terribly helpful to the case. So it was for the best.

Stakeouts can be fun! But not this one. )

Seriously, that wasn't fun at all. )
[[still from angel 2x05 "dear boy," and nfb/nfi.]]


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