Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone

neu: scopey sneaky
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce wesleynotponcy
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Wesley's Apartment | Los Angeles, CA | Thursday Night Fandom Time

No matter how many nights, or more commonly, half-nights, that Wesley spent with Lilah -- and it wasn't that many, but it wasn't exactly zero, either -- Wes didn't think he'd ever quite get used to the sensation of sleepily splaying his hand over a warm patch of bed beside him, knowing that that warmth belonged to someone else. It was enough to wake him sometimes. Like tonight, when he encountered that same warm bit of blanket beside him that he always did, but opened his eyes to find the bed empty, save for himself.

Lilah had evidently slipped out of the bedroom, but the door wasn't closed all the way: Wesley could hear her on the phone.

"What?" she was saying. "She's back? And you got a positive visual of her?"

Wesley's breath nearly caught in his throat, but he forced himself to be quiet. There was only one missing person whose discovery would merit that amount of urgency in Lilah's tone -- hell, there was only one missing person whose discovery would justify a call to Lilah Morgan, Esq. this late at night. It had to be about Cordelia.

He threw back the blankets and stood up, striding across the room to put his ear to the door. It wasn't dignified, but he had to hear this.

"You're sure that it's her?" Lilah asked sharply. "Uh-huh. She's with the kid? That's unexpected."

The kid. Connor. Connor wasn't safe for Cordy to be around, after what he'd done to Angel.

"No, I'm here," Lilah said after a brief pause. Wesley suspected she'd been listening for sounds of life from the bedroom, and he held himself frozen in place, determined not to make noise.

"Put an extraction team together. I'm on my way."

Lilah's phone clicked shut and Wesley hastily darted back across the room, nearly knocking over a very expensive ancient vase along the way. He managed to pull the covers up over himself just in time for Lilah to reenter the room.

"You're leaving?" he asked, feigning sleepiness in his tone that he certainly didn't feel anymore.

"No rest for the wicked," she replied. She was already reaching under the bed for her shoes. "You should go back to sleep."

Wesley didn't think that was likely. "Do you really have to go?" he asked, though he regretted it the moment he did. Far from sounding like his usual early-morning reluctance to part and greet the day, it sounded a bit clingy. Maybe a little close to home.

Lilah smirked. Of course she noticed. "Why?" she said, tugging on her second shoe before leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You miss me already?"

Wesley listened more than he watched her leave, and then he stared at the ceiling for a good while afterwards before he pushed himself up and out of bed for a second time, grabbing yesterday's trousers from his clothes hamper and then seeking out his phone. He had to speak with Angel straight away.

[[from angel 4x04, "slouching toward bethlehem."]]


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