wesleynotponcy | The Franklin Hotel | Los Angeles, CA

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.

Cordelia	Hey. Cordelia would argue that she didn't feel foolish, exactly. Just resigned, and bored, and someone had better be buying her shoes for this. Still, she circulated with a drink tray, eyeing the couple near the bar.
Claire and Marty	The couple at the bar, meanwhile, was in the middle of a very important ~~abduction~~ ~~business deal~~ conversation. "You sure about this, right in the middle of the day?" the man asked. "Marty," Claire assured him, "the aliens abduct me when the mood hits and the mood hit pretty hard this morning right about the time Harold left for work." "Of course," she added, "if you're not in the mood..." "Oh, I'm deep in the mood," he assured her. "I'm going to abduct you right now and conduct my own probe..."
Cordelia	"Can you believe this guy?" Cordelia mouthed to Wesley.
Claire and Marty	"It's just... I got a lot of repairs," Marty continued. Claire frowned. "Well, I hope nothing important is broken." He hesitated, then dismissed, "No, no, it all works. Let's go upstairs." And they stood up, preparing to do just that, when...
Angel	Angel, who'd previously been stationed behind a plant, made his way briskly across the hotel lobby (stopping only briefly to yank the camera out of Wesley's hand) and came to a stop at the bar where the couple was getting ready to depart. "Claire, hold on."
Claire	Claire looked startled. "Do I... know you?"
Angel	Nope. Not even a little. "I've been listening," he told Claire. "I'm over here behind some plant with this -- machine--" he yanked an earwig out of his ear-- "recording you two, while my associates here've been tailing you all day taking pictures. I don't like doing this. It's crass. Your husband knows -- go home, tell him the truth, work it out or... leave him, I don't care. But this..." He chucked the camera toward the bar. Claire caught it, and after a moment of staring, she hurried alone out of the hotel.
Cordelia	Cordelia stared. "What was that?" she hissed. "We had a paying client!"
Angel	"Not everything is worth getting paid for," Angel groused, which would've maybe meant something if it hadn't been completely overdramatic.
Cordelia	"Easy to say when you don't need solid food to survive," Cordelia retorted.
Angel	But before Angel could respond to that, he caught sight of something else. A very familiar woman across the lobby, to be exact, and immediately he was too busy striding over to her to say anything to Cordelia. "Oh, I'm sorry--" the woman started, startled. "I guess you didn't take that whole 'dust to dust' thing to heart, huh?" Angel demanded, grabbing her wallet and beginning to rifle through it. "What are you trying to do, pass for human?" Ohhhh boy.
Cordelia	"Uh-oh," Cordelia muttered, bracing a hand on Wesley's shoulder before he could hurry over.
???	"Excuse me," the woman said, taking her wallet back and making to shove it back into her purse.
Angel	"I know your voice, Darla," Angel growled. "I can smell you."
Wesley	"Darla?" Wesley breathed. He knew the name -- every Watchers' Academy student could recite her atrocities by the age of six. Thousand-year-old vampire, Angel's sire, one-fourth of the Scourge of Europe for centuries. But -- surely not --
Darla?	"I don't know what you're talking about," the woman protested, making to leave. "Please, just -- leave me alone."
Angel	Angel grabbed her arm, trying to prevent her from going anywhere. "I don't know what kind of game you're trying to play, but you're not going to win," he said, lowering his voice to something more threatening.
Wesley	That had Wesley taking a step forward. "Angel, I really think--" But he was cut off by a security guard stepping in. "Is everything all right?" the guard asked.
Darla? DeEtta?	"No," the woman managed, struggling against Angel's grip. "I -- my name is DeEtta Kramer. My husband is outside right now getting our car right now. I don't know anyone named Darla, please, I--"
Angel	"I know it's you," Angel growled. "And I know you're not going out into that sun anytime soon."
DeEtta?	But that wasn't quite true, because at that moment, the woman wrangled out of his grip and ran out toward her husband. Who was... in a patch of sunlight just outside the door. So... so much for that theory.

Cordelia	Back at the Hyperion, Cordelia stomped through the lobby in the direction of the front desk, holding her shoes. "That was really fun!" she snapped. "The humiliation, running from the hotel security staff -- and the nifty little outfit, which seemed to tell so many conventioneers, 'Pet me, I am a whore.'" So Cordelia was a little upset.
Wesley	Sensing that this attitude might not help Angel feel any better at all, Wesley offered, "It wasn't pleasant, but at least there's a silver lining."
Cordelia	"What silver lining?" Cordelia snapped.
Wesley	"The woman walked into direct sunlight!" Wesley exclaimed. "Obviously she's not a vampire; obviously Angel... made a mistake."
Cordelia	"You think?" Helpful, Cordelia.
Wesley	"Yes. Right." Wesley took a step forward toward Angel, who was... leaning over the desk and flipping through a phone book. "Now, we simply have to... put our heads together and help him come to grips with this thing." Setting a hand on Angel's upper back, he said, "You're among friends, Angel. We're not going to condemn you."
Cordelia	"Right," said Cordelia. Turning to Angel, she contributed, "You're crazy. You need professional help."
Angel	"It was Darla," Angel said firmly. You'd think if a guy ran around torturing side-by-side with someone for hundreds of years, he'd be considered an authority on the subject, but no. "She's back. She's human now. I know her scent."
Wesley	"Angel," Wesley interrupted. "You can't simply -- sniff a person and know--"
Angel	Angel leaned in and inhaled. "You had sex last night," he said. "With a girl who spends a lot of time in the woods."
Wesley	Wesley stared. "Good lord, how did you --?"
Cordelia	"That's unbelievable," Cordelia remarked. She eyed Wesley. "I didn't think you ever had sex."
Angel	Right. Enough of that, children. Angel shut the phone book. "She's not in here."
Cordelia	"Who, Darla?"
Angel	"No," Angel said. "DeEtta Kramer -- this person she's pretending to be." He picked his keys up off of the desk. "Run a title deed search, see if you can find an address for a DeEtta and Stephen Kramer. I'm gonna try some other avenues." And before they could say anything, he was stomping out of the hotel. So.