wesleynotponcy | The Hyperion Hotel | Los Angeles, CA | Saturday Evening Fandom Time (Reply)

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

Cordelia	"Do you think we should check on him?" Cordelia asked, hovering just outside the basement door. "He's been in that cellar a long time."
Wesley	"I keep hearing a -- chucka-chucka sound," Wesley murmured thoughtfully. "What do you suppose he's doing down there?"
Cordelia	"How should I know?" Cordelia snapped. "He barely said 'good morning' and 'get me a glass of blood' today."
Wesley	"I know," Wesley said. "He's just so distraught about--"
Cordelia	"Don't say Darla," Cordelia interrupted him. "I'm sick and tired about hearing about Darla! If I hear the name Darla one more time--! And he's not distraught, he's obsessed. I thought you were gonna be a man and talk to him about this!"
Wesley	"I was a man!" Wesley protested feebly. "I said -- things."
Cordelia	"Like what?" Cordelia challenged.
Wesley	"Like--" Wesley deflated. "Did he prefer milk or sugar in his tea." At Cordelia's look, he insisted, "It's how men talk about things in England!"
Cordelia	Cordelia started to form a snappy remark in response to that, but then thought better of it. "Shh! Listen. It stopped!"
Wesley	"He's coming!" Wesley hissed, oh so helpfully, and he scrambled to get away from the door.
Angel	And Angel surfaced from the basement with a basket of clothes just in time to find Cordelia on the counter, reading, while Wesley examined a file he'd clearly just picked up off the desk. "Hey guys," he said, lacking any of his typical broodiness. "What's up?"
Cordelia	"Nothing," said Cordelia warily. "So you were... doing your laundry?" Sure, Angel. Sure.
Wesley	"It's good to see you taking a domestic tack," Wesley offered encouragingly.
Cordelia	"Yeah, you seem all calm and homey," Cordelia agreed. "Are you on drugs?"
Angel	Angel set down his basket. "Look," he said, "I know I've caused you a lot of grief about his whole Darla situation -- and I apologize. Darla may never need my help. All I can do is be there for her if and when she decides to come around. But I can't do it for her, and I know that now."
Wesley	Wesley smirked at Cordelia. "We had tea," he gloated.
Angel	"In the meantime," Angel concluded, "there's nothing I can do but... let go."
Gunn	Or pay attention to the guy who'd just charged in through the main doors. "I found Darla," Gunn announced, waving a folder in Angel's direction. "It wasn't easy, but you said to keep looking, and my wide ranging knowledge of LA's low-rent hotels finally paid off."
Cordelia	Cordelia looked scandalized. "You lied to us!" she accused Angel.
Angel	"I did, I know," Angel agreed, coming over to look at Gunn's file.
Wesley	"Why?" Wesley ~~whined~~ wondered.
Angel	"I figured you'd nag," Angel said, shrugging. Then he tapped the folder. "The Royal Viking Motel," he said.
Gunn	"Conveniently located mere steps away from scenic skid row," Gunn agreed. "I guess she's not living off Wolfram and Hart no more."
Angel	"Then they'll be looking for her too," Angel reasoned, grabbing his coat off the desk.
Gunn	"What do you think they'll do if they find her?"
Angel	"Well, let's get there first and not find out," Angel decided.
Cordelia	As Angel headed for the door, Cordelia followed after him. "Listen up, mister!" she snapped. "If you expect us to go with you on some wild goose chase, then guess again! We're not going to enable you in your--" The door slammed behind them. "--addiction," she finished.
Wesley	Wesley looked appalled. "Didn't we learn anything from the tea?"