Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

In Wesley's universe, it had now been nearly a month since he'd graduated. In that time, he'd fallen into a sort of routine with Charles and Cordelia, one that continued to surprise him with how comfortable it was.

They worked in an office -- they had an actual office now, believe it or not; it was quite a step up from Cordelia's apartment, with no offense intended to Phantom Dennis, of course -- and took regular trips to the local demon karaoke bar, Caritas. They had amassed a fairly impressive client list for such a new (or recently-reworked, depending upon how you looked at it) business, and were making a decent amount of money. Wesley still couldn't believe that he was in charge of their little operation, being the youngest of the group and neither precognitive nor especially muscular, but there he was. He made good calls reasonably often, he made bad calls slightly less so, but he'd yet to lose the respect of the rest of his team, and all in all he thought he was doing a fairly decent job.

Then there was, of course, the matter of Angel. He and Wesley hadn't spoken since Angel had fired them all. Cordelia had seen him more recently -- the night of Wesley's accident, apparently, Angel had come by the hospital, and Cordelia had shooed him away. That was certainly food for thought, but it wasn't something Wesley felt particularly compelled to dwell upon at this moment.

At this moment? He was removing a demon eye from the back of a little girl's head.

( Or he just had, anyway. )

[[NFB, obviously. open for phone calls!]]