The Lobby Of The Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles, CA | Friday Evening Fandom Time

[wesleynotponcy]

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

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[brat_inslayage]

Meanwhile, a dimension or two over and a couple of years in the future, things were not so quiet.

Nothing to do with demonic activity, though; Kennedy would've preferred that. Literal noise might have been preferable to the more metaphorical, actually-just-chaos kind going on in her apartment.

You know. What of it she could actually see through all the boxes and meticulously arranged but still huge piles of things. Moving was hard work, and she needed a break.

So hey, Wes, that'd be your phone ringing.

[wesleynotponcy]

See, that hand-halfway-to-the-phone thing meant that Wes was totally answering the hotel landline, and got out a slightly rushed "Angel Investi--" before his cell phone started up a second round of ringing and he realized that he had not done that right.

So.

"Kennedy," he said, totally trying to sound like the kind of cool person who knew how to answer phones correctly. "Hello."

[brat_inslayage]

"Smooth, Wes," teased Kennedy. "Really smooth."

Willow, leaning against her on the couch, raised both eyebrows and projected: He's just lucky I don't have anything to yell at him about.

Kennedy snickered into the phone (partly because it was funny and partly because it still kind of tickled when Willow did that), which probably didn't do much to assure Wesley about that smooth phone-answering thing.

"What's up?"

[wesleynotponcy]

Yes, being yelled at by Willow once was enough, thank you. Okay, several times, because there had been a few occasions with his own Willow, but all in all they only served to make him want to incur her wrath even less. So.

"Bit of a quiet summer," he answered. "Standard-issue demons most of the time. Not a demonic religious sect hell-bent on enslaving humans to be found." SAD, THAT. "And yourself?"