Angel's suite, Hyperion, Saturday morning
"Angel," Wesley said as he came in to Angel's suite, "Might I have a word?"
"Sure: knock," Angel replied. He folded his arms and looked at Wesley. "Knock is a word."
Wesley drew himself up short, looking at Angel with confusion. "Pardon?"
"Knock," Angel repeated. He gestured towards the door. "As in 'don't you?' Or do you normally come in to my room whenever you want?"
"Technically speaking it's not your room," Wesley reminded him. "And I can't say Angel's had a problem with it before."
Angel looked at Wesley suspiciously. "You're not carrying glitter, are you?"
"No," Wesley said, with the slow tone of one who was wondering if perhaps Angel was having another one of those moments when the words "Angel" and "comprehensible" were simply not to be used together without some sort of negation between them. "Why? Does the Wesley of your universe normally carry glitter?"
"Wouldn't surprise me."
"What?"
"Nothing," Angel said. He motioned for Wesley to get on with it. "What do you want?"
"I heard that you spoke with Fred yesterday," Wesley said.
"Yeah?" Angel wondered if Wesley was just confirming the obvious.
"She said that you told her not to invite you in," Wesley said. "Either of you."
"Uh-huh," Angel said, now wondering if Wesley was going to circle around to a point at any time.
"That doesn't strike you as an unusual request?" Wesley asked.
"Vampire," Angel reminded him. "I need an invitation to enter a place where someone lives. That is assuming the rules haven't changed over here."
"No, that is true here as well." Wesley folded his arms, studying Angel. The light reflecting off of his glasses made it difficult to read his expression. "What strikes me as unusual is that as far as I am aware you have a soul. Both of you."
"If I didn't have a soul you'd be dead by now," Angel replied, without missing a beat. "Or really really wishing you were."
"Probably true," Wesley said. "But as you effectively gave Fred a warning it leads me to wonder if you know more about Angel than you might be letting on."
"I don't know anything about your Angel," Angel replied. He swept his hand to the side, taking in the whole of the suite. "This guy's stoic even for me. He doesn't have my room number, he doesn't have all of you living here, he doesn't even have my dog - "
"Your - " Wesley's mouth stayed half-open as Angel's words washed over him. "There's so much and yet I feel compelled to ask: you have a dog?"
"Yeah," Angel said. "Sean. He was a gift."
"A gift," Wesley repeated.
"Yeah, from an angel."
"An - "
"Lowercase 'a'," Angel immediately clarified. "Think wings, not fangs."
Wesley rocked back on his heels and mulled this over. "You've two friends who are witches. Bel is half-demon. So the angel with a lowercase a would be Veronica?"
"No."
"Logan?"
"Really no," Angel replied. "Veronica and Logan are mortal. Veronica's a detective. Logan's... let's not get into that right now. The angel I knew when I was in Fandom. He helped me get resouled the first time."
"The first time," Wesley repeated, as though he wasn't sure he'd heard right.
"Yeah," Angel said. "And after he gave me a puppy."
"Of course."
"Because he thought I was depressed."
"I can't imagine why." Wesley pinched the bridge of his nose. "You say the first time. That implies there were more times than that."
"Yeah," Angel said.
"How many?"
"More than I'd like."
Wesley quirked his eyebrows at him. "Perhaps we could narrow that down to a number?"
"Or you could go screw yourself." Off of Wesley's cold, silent stare Angel added, "I'm not your Angel. We're not buddies. If you want somebody to bear his soul to you pick somebody else."
"It's the matter of your lack of soul wihch is more important," Wesley said, his voice sharp.
"Yeah," Angel said. "Which is why Fred shouldn't invite me - any me into her room. I could lose the soul. I could become more dangerous. There should always be defenses in place to protect against that."
"You have a soul," Wesley said. He took a step closer. "You - this universe's version of you - do good things."
"Still a vampire," Angel said, not flinching. "Still a threat."
"And yet you have all of your employees living with you?" Wesley asked.
"First off, they're not my employees, they're my friends," Angel said. "Second it makes a hell of a lot more sense than forcing them to pay rent when I've got an empty hotel. Third it was so not my fault!"
"Fault?"
"Veronica's really stubborn."
"Of course she is," Wesley said.
"Point is they know me," Angel said. "They know what I am. They don't have rose-colored glasses about what I can be like."
"What Angelus can be like," Wesley said, as though correcting Angel.
"What every version of me can be like," Angel said, refusing to be swayed. "If something goes wrong, any one of them could take me down. And if they can't, then there's dozens more after them who can and will."
"Witches and half-demons?" Wesley asked.
"And aliens and detectives and assassins and Parker," Angel said.
"Par - "
"She's her own category."
"Of course," Wesley said.
"If you met her, you'd know."
"If I met her perhaps I'd understand why you have a dog."
"What? They're cool."
"I was thinking more of the shedding."
"Black fur," Angel explained.
"Ah." Wesley grew thoughtful, then asked, "Do you think it helps?"
"Well it doesn't show up against my clothes - "
"I meant having them there," Wesley said. "With you. In the hotel."
Angel thought about all the bickering and noise and chaos that came with having everyone living in the Hyperion, to say nothing of how that intensified when others visited. Then he tried to imagine if he didn't have all of his friends in his life. "Yeah. It does."
Wesley watched him very closely. "Given the chance, do you think that you - "
And right about then was when the portal showed up.
Angel appeared in the Hyperion, in his suite, in the exact same spot he'd been talking to Wesley in.
Only this time he was tackled by Sean who tried everything in his doggie power to try to lick Angel's face.
"- would change anything?" Angel said, finishing off what he figured Wesley's question was. He scruffed Sean's fur, grinning down at him like a complete dork. "No."
[ooc: again establishy! and ignore how this theoretically could've gone up earlier]
"Sure: knock," Angel replied. He folded his arms and looked at Wesley. "Knock is a word."
Wesley drew himself up short, looking at Angel with confusion. "Pardon?"
"Knock," Angel repeated. He gestured towards the door. "As in 'don't you?' Or do you normally come in to my room whenever you want?"
"Technically speaking it's not your room," Wesley reminded him. "And I can't say Angel's had a problem with it before."
Angel looked at Wesley suspiciously. "You're not carrying glitter, are you?"
"No," Wesley said, with the slow tone of one who was wondering if perhaps Angel was having another one of those moments when the words "Angel" and "comprehensible" were simply not to be used together without some sort of negation between them. "Why? Does the Wesley of your universe normally carry glitter?"
"Wouldn't surprise me."
"What?"
"Nothing," Angel said. He motioned for Wesley to get on with it. "What do you want?"
"I heard that you spoke with Fred yesterday," Wesley said.
"Yeah?" Angel wondered if Wesley was just confirming the obvious.
"She said that you told her not to invite you in," Wesley said. "Either of you."
"Uh-huh," Angel said, now wondering if Wesley was going to circle around to a point at any time.
"That doesn't strike you as an unusual request?" Wesley asked.
"Vampire," Angel reminded him. "I need an invitation to enter a place where someone lives. That is assuming the rules haven't changed over here."
"No, that is true here as well." Wesley folded his arms, studying Angel. The light reflecting off of his glasses made it difficult to read his expression. "What strikes me as unusual is that as far as I am aware you have a soul. Both of you."
"If I didn't have a soul you'd be dead by now," Angel replied, without missing a beat. "Or really really wishing you were."
"Probably true," Wesley said. "But as you effectively gave Fred a warning it leads me to wonder if you know more about Angel than you might be letting on."
"I don't know anything about your Angel," Angel replied. He swept his hand to the side, taking in the whole of the suite. "This guy's stoic even for me. He doesn't have my room number, he doesn't have all of you living here, he doesn't even have my dog - "
"Your - " Wesley's mouth stayed half-open as Angel's words washed over him. "There's so much and yet I feel compelled to ask: you have a dog?"
"Yeah," Angel said. "Sean. He was a gift."
"A gift," Wesley repeated.
"Yeah, from an angel."
"An - "
"Lowercase 'a'," Angel immediately clarified. "Think wings, not fangs."
Wesley rocked back on his heels and mulled this over. "You've two friends who are witches. Bel is half-demon. So the angel with a lowercase a would be Veronica?"
"No."
"Logan?"
"Really no," Angel replied. "Veronica and Logan are mortal. Veronica's a detective. Logan's... let's not get into that right now. The angel I knew when I was in Fandom. He helped me get resouled the first time."
"The first time," Wesley repeated, as though he wasn't sure he'd heard right.
"Yeah," Angel said. "And after he gave me a puppy."
"Of course."
"Because he thought I was depressed."
"I can't imagine why." Wesley pinched the bridge of his nose. "You say the first time. That implies there were more times than that."
"Yeah," Angel said.
"How many?"
"More than I'd like."
Wesley quirked his eyebrows at him. "Perhaps we could narrow that down to a number?"
"Or you could go screw yourself." Off of Wesley's cold, silent stare Angel added, "I'm not your Angel. We're not buddies. If you want somebody to bear his soul to you pick somebody else."
"It's the matter of your lack of soul wihch is more important," Wesley said, his voice sharp.
"Yeah," Angel said. "Which is why Fred shouldn't invite me - any me into her room. I could lose the soul. I could become more dangerous. There should always be defenses in place to protect against that."
"You have a soul," Wesley said. He took a step closer. "You - this universe's version of you - do good things."
"Still a vampire," Angel said, not flinching. "Still a threat."
"And yet you have all of your employees living with you?" Wesley asked.
"First off, they're not my employees, they're my friends," Angel said. "Second it makes a hell of a lot more sense than forcing them to pay rent when I've got an empty hotel. Third it was so not my fault!"
"Fault?"
"Veronica's really stubborn."
"Of course she is," Wesley said.
"Point is they know me," Angel said. "They know what I am. They don't have rose-colored glasses about what I can be like."
"What Angelus can be like," Wesley said, as though correcting Angel.
"What every version of me can be like," Angel said, refusing to be swayed. "If something goes wrong, any one of them could take me down. And if they can't, then there's dozens more after them who can and will."
"Witches and half-demons?" Wesley asked.
"And aliens and detectives and assassins and Parker," Angel said.
"Par - "
"She's her own category."
"Of course," Wesley said.
"If you met her, you'd know."
"If I met her perhaps I'd understand why you have a dog."
"What? They're cool."
"I was thinking more of the shedding."
"Black fur," Angel explained.
"Ah." Wesley grew thoughtful, then asked, "Do you think it helps?"
"Well it doesn't show up against my clothes - "
"I meant having them there," Wesley said. "With you. In the hotel."
Angel thought about all the bickering and noise and chaos that came with having everyone living in the Hyperion, to say nothing of how that intensified when others visited. Then he tried to imagine if he didn't have all of his friends in his life. "Yeah. It does."
Wesley watched him very closely. "Given the chance, do you think that you - "
And right about then was when the portal showed up.
Angel appeared in the Hyperion, in his suite, in the exact same spot he'd been talking to Wesley in.
Only this time he was tackled by Sean who tried everything in his doggie power to try to lick Angel's face.
"- would change anything?" Angel said, finishing off what he figured Wesley's question was. He scruffed Sean's fur, grinning down at him like a complete dork. "No."
[ooc: again establishy! and ignore how this theoretically could've gone up earlier]