"Ugh, this is torture," Cordy exclaimed, breaking the silent and sober mood
in Wesley's office. They had been researching since the evening before,
when they realized there was nothing more they could do at the hospital
after Gunn made it out of surgery. Lorne had taken over the vigil at Gunn's
bedside with Fred. They had made a jumbled list of possible spells,
persons, demons, and solutions to how Fred saw someone who looked exactly
like Wesley. Now they were organizing that list, by possibility, who would
implement such a method, motive, etc. It was tedious work, but it allowed
them to keep their minds off Gunn and to feel some semblance of usefulness.
"I'm going out to get some coffee and donuts. O-Pos just goes straight to my hips", Cordy said getting up from her jumbled mess of books and papers on the floor.
"All right, we've got a lot done, but we still don't have a clue what we're dealing with here," Angel said from his position at Wesley's desk. He got up too and headed toward the fridge for a break. Cordy started to walk out the door of the Hyperion into the courtyard, but stopped as an aging man walked through the door. He was dressed sharply in a navy blue suit with all grey hair, but a youthful complexion accented by his blue eyes just like-
"Hello, I am-"
"Wesley's father, I can see the family resemblance. Hi, I'm Cordelia Chase." Cordelia said trying to sound professional. Mr. Wyndam-Pryce extended his hand and Cordelia accepted, once again trying to match the professionalism that Wesley's father exuded.
"And you are.?"
"Angel," he said walking over to join the two.
"You both work for my son?"
"Yes, well, more like 'with', but Wesley's the boss. We're really like a family here."
"So I assume you're here because of Wesley's arrest, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce," Angel said, still not sure how to approach the topic.
"Yes, please call me George.", Wesley's father said in a gentle voice. "I came when I heard of his arrest. A colleague in New York informed me of this unpleasant occurrence. Please give my condolences to Mr. Gunn's family."
"Thank you, but we're pretty much all the family Gunn has in the area."
"How is he?"
"He made it through surgery, but he's still unconscious. The doctors aren't really sure if he'll wake up."
"I'm sorry." Wesley's father said sincerely. "So this is where my son runs his little business. A private detective agency, yes?"
"Yeah. You know the usual, divorce cases, missing persons.it pays the bills," Cordelia lied, unsure of how much he knew. "Oh, I was under the impression you dealt with more supernaturally inclined cases."
"Oh, yeah of course, you know, have to maintain a front for the tourists." Cordelia said awkwardly. "So I don't think Wesley told us what you do, George?"
"I own a company that sells rare books and other supernatural items. We're quite successful, we now have an office on every inhabited continent with the opening of our 9th office in Hong Kong."
"That's nice."
"Yes, it is a good business. One I had hoped Wesley would pursue, but he of course had other plans. I can't imagine this type of business makes much money, especially in such an impoverished city as this."
"We do all right, we take a lot of cases pro bono, but the ones that pay usually pay decent. That's not what we're here for." Angel chimed in.
"Oh, yes, Wesley has told me about the mission of your organization. Very good", Mr. Wyndam-Pryce said in an oddly dismissive tone.
"Well, enough small talk, I must be on my way. I'm picking up a suit at Wesley's apartment and a few of his personal items."
"It was nice to meet you."
"The pleasure was mine. Ms. Chase, Mr. Angel." He said politely and walked out the same way he came in.
"Wow, did it just get ten degrees colder in here or what?" Cordelia said. "All right, I am donut-bound."
"I told you for the hundredth time. 2 AM. I came home at 2 AM. I drank about 10 beers over a 5-hour period and a couple shots of whiskey. I was drunk, but I walked home from the bar and fell asleep. My alarm woke me at 8 AM and then the police knocked on my door at 8:30 am. You have all that written down, why the bloody hell are you asking me again?"
"You were always the patient one, Wes, what happened? Need your afternoon tea? Maybe we can get some in here. I want to make sure your telling the truth or at least lying well enough that you have your story down. I can't have your credibility shot by a continuity error. That's the only thing you got going for you now. So what'd you have for breakfast that morning?"
"I told you, I hadn't had breakfast yet. I was still shaving."
"Good. That's good. All right, enough of this. We have the arraignment tomorrow. The DA's gonna oppose bail, but I think we'll get it."
"That's what my father's paying you for, right? To get me off at any and all costs." "You have a problem with that, Wesley?"
Wesley gave a look that said he did.
"You're unbelievable, incredible. You're sitting here facing life in prison and preaching to me moral bullshit."
"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Lindsey."
"Oh, I understand. I gave up the evil law firm, remember?"
"Yes, after you nearly killed me, caused Cordelia to go insane, and tried to turn Angel evil. You don't know the first thing about morality, Lindsey."
"You gonna teach me, son of Sam?"
Wesley snapped at that remark. He got up from his chair and pulled a right jab to Lindsey's chin in one smooth motion. The force was such that Lindsey fell over, chair and all, and landed hard on the cheaply painted concrete ground. Wesley stepped back from the table, expecting Lindsey to continue the fight or call the prison guards to take him away, but he just lay on the floor laughing. Wesley got the joke now.
"Feel better?", Lindsey said clutching his jaw.
"Yes, actually. Thank you and sorry about that." Wesley said, reaching down a hand to lift Lindsey off the ground. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a sneaky little bastard?"
"Everyday."
Angel was in his element. Night. Solitary. He was heading to Wesley's apartment to get some of his books and personal files. They had exhausted all the books in the hotel and now Cordelia was shifting through his desk looking for clues into possible culprits in his personal stuff. Angel wasn't sure whether Wesley would mind, but if they didn't find anything, there was no point in telling Wes.
Even though the street was dark he could see perfectly. His convertible pulled up to the mission-style apartment complex. The street was empty, while this area was one of the better in Los Angeles, even people who had no knowledge of vampires or demons, knew to stay indoors unless you had a purpose or a gun.
Angel could see into the apartment from street as he started to walk over to it. A sudden movement in the window caught his attention and caused him to stop mid-stride. He saw a middle-aged man moving around Wesley's apartment, as if searching for something. He stopped suddenly, obviously he had found whatever he was looking for. Angel moved closer to try and see what the man had found. As he did, the man looked up. It wasn't possible, Angel told himself but he seemed to notice the vampire's presence a good twenty feet away and hidden behind a bush. The man disappeared from the window quickly carrying what Angel saw for a flash was a book. Interesting. Looks like this trip wasn't going to be routine after all.
Angel changed his position around the complex to one more suited for stalking. There was only one entrance out of the building and Angel kept his eyes on it. Success. The man came out quickly carrying one of Wesley's books. Heading away from Angel towards the sidewalk that lined the deserted street. He kept on walking past a row of cars that Angel's was included in. No car. Even more interesting. Angel continued to follow, keeping enough distance to avoid detection. He had practiced over 200 years. He had stalking to a fine art.
Maybe not so fine an art. Once again, Angel had the feeling this guy could sense him. The man sped up a little and dropped his book once to take a look behind him. Angel caught it, and was able to hide himself, but he was still convinced that his cover was blown. The man kept walking, but Angel was following a little closer now. He wanted to get a good look, so he could make a composite sketch and Cordy could possibly attach a name to this book thief. He was shorter than Angel, with brown hair styled in a neglected crew cut. Entirely normal clothes, jeans and a polo shirt. That's what struck Angel the most, his normality.
But as Angel drew closer, it hit him. This guy wasn't human. A shape- shifting demon, Angel mused. Now he was very interested. Almost echoing Angel's increased awareness, the demon(?) turned a corner into an alley. Angel followed quickly, afraid to lose their only lead. He turned the corner lacking any sense of subtleness, ready to make his move and get some answers.
What he saw was both a let down and a shock. Nothing. The alley was empty. Angel moved cautiously checking behind the dumpsters, but still nothing. The two doors on either side were firmly bolted. So in addition to being a shapeshifter, this guy could make himself invisible? That narrowed down the field. After ten minutes of waiting, pretending to leave, coming back, and sniffing the air, Angel gave up and headed back to Wesley's apartment. He just hoped the book the guy stole wasn't too important. Angel knew, though, from previous experiences, the odds of that being true, weren't too great.
"I'm going out to get some coffee and donuts. O-Pos just goes straight to my hips", Cordy said getting up from her jumbled mess of books and papers on the floor.
"All right, we've got a lot done, but we still don't have a clue what we're dealing with here," Angel said from his position at Wesley's desk. He got up too and headed toward the fridge for a break. Cordy started to walk out the door of the Hyperion into the courtyard, but stopped as an aging man walked through the door. He was dressed sharply in a navy blue suit with all grey hair, but a youthful complexion accented by his blue eyes just like-
"Hello, I am-"
"Wesley's father, I can see the family resemblance. Hi, I'm Cordelia Chase." Cordelia said trying to sound professional. Mr. Wyndam-Pryce extended his hand and Cordelia accepted, once again trying to match the professionalism that Wesley's father exuded.
"And you are.?"
"Angel," he said walking over to join the two.
"You both work for my son?"
"Yes, well, more like 'with', but Wesley's the boss. We're really like a family here."
"So I assume you're here because of Wesley's arrest, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce," Angel said, still not sure how to approach the topic.
"Yes, please call me George.", Wesley's father said in a gentle voice. "I came when I heard of his arrest. A colleague in New York informed me of this unpleasant occurrence. Please give my condolences to Mr. Gunn's family."
"Thank you, but we're pretty much all the family Gunn has in the area."
"How is he?"
"He made it through surgery, but he's still unconscious. The doctors aren't really sure if he'll wake up."
"I'm sorry." Wesley's father said sincerely. "So this is where my son runs his little business. A private detective agency, yes?"
"Yeah. You know the usual, divorce cases, missing persons.it pays the bills," Cordelia lied, unsure of how much he knew. "Oh, I was under the impression you dealt with more supernaturally inclined cases."
"Oh, yeah of course, you know, have to maintain a front for the tourists." Cordelia said awkwardly. "So I don't think Wesley told us what you do, George?"
"I own a company that sells rare books and other supernatural items. We're quite successful, we now have an office on every inhabited continent with the opening of our 9th office in Hong Kong."
"That's nice."
"Yes, it is a good business. One I had hoped Wesley would pursue, but he of course had other plans. I can't imagine this type of business makes much money, especially in such an impoverished city as this."
"We do all right, we take a lot of cases pro bono, but the ones that pay usually pay decent. That's not what we're here for." Angel chimed in.
"Oh, yes, Wesley has told me about the mission of your organization. Very good", Mr. Wyndam-Pryce said in an oddly dismissive tone.
"Well, enough small talk, I must be on my way. I'm picking up a suit at Wesley's apartment and a few of his personal items."
"It was nice to meet you."
"The pleasure was mine. Ms. Chase, Mr. Angel." He said politely and walked out the same way he came in.
"Wow, did it just get ten degrees colder in here or what?" Cordelia said. "All right, I am donut-bound."
"I told you for the hundredth time. 2 AM. I came home at 2 AM. I drank about 10 beers over a 5-hour period and a couple shots of whiskey. I was drunk, but I walked home from the bar and fell asleep. My alarm woke me at 8 AM and then the police knocked on my door at 8:30 am. You have all that written down, why the bloody hell are you asking me again?"
"You were always the patient one, Wes, what happened? Need your afternoon tea? Maybe we can get some in here. I want to make sure your telling the truth or at least lying well enough that you have your story down. I can't have your credibility shot by a continuity error. That's the only thing you got going for you now. So what'd you have for breakfast that morning?"
"I told you, I hadn't had breakfast yet. I was still shaving."
"Good. That's good. All right, enough of this. We have the arraignment tomorrow. The DA's gonna oppose bail, but I think we'll get it."
"That's what my father's paying you for, right? To get me off at any and all costs." "You have a problem with that, Wesley?"
Wesley gave a look that said he did.
"You're unbelievable, incredible. You're sitting here facing life in prison and preaching to me moral bullshit."
"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Lindsey."
"Oh, I understand. I gave up the evil law firm, remember?"
"Yes, after you nearly killed me, caused Cordelia to go insane, and tried to turn Angel evil. You don't know the first thing about morality, Lindsey."
"You gonna teach me, son of Sam?"
Wesley snapped at that remark. He got up from his chair and pulled a right jab to Lindsey's chin in one smooth motion. The force was such that Lindsey fell over, chair and all, and landed hard on the cheaply painted concrete ground. Wesley stepped back from the table, expecting Lindsey to continue the fight or call the prison guards to take him away, but he just lay on the floor laughing. Wesley got the joke now.
"Feel better?", Lindsey said clutching his jaw.
"Yes, actually. Thank you and sorry about that." Wesley said, reaching down a hand to lift Lindsey off the ground. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a sneaky little bastard?"
"Everyday."
Angel was in his element. Night. Solitary. He was heading to Wesley's apartment to get some of his books and personal files. They had exhausted all the books in the hotel and now Cordelia was shifting through his desk looking for clues into possible culprits in his personal stuff. Angel wasn't sure whether Wesley would mind, but if they didn't find anything, there was no point in telling Wes.
Even though the street was dark he could see perfectly. His convertible pulled up to the mission-style apartment complex. The street was empty, while this area was one of the better in Los Angeles, even people who had no knowledge of vampires or demons, knew to stay indoors unless you had a purpose or a gun.
Angel could see into the apartment from street as he started to walk over to it. A sudden movement in the window caught his attention and caused him to stop mid-stride. He saw a middle-aged man moving around Wesley's apartment, as if searching for something. He stopped suddenly, obviously he had found whatever he was looking for. Angel moved closer to try and see what the man had found. As he did, the man looked up. It wasn't possible, Angel told himself but he seemed to notice the vampire's presence a good twenty feet away and hidden behind a bush. The man disappeared from the window quickly carrying what Angel saw for a flash was a book. Interesting. Looks like this trip wasn't going to be routine after all.
Angel changed his position around the complex to one more suited for stalking. There was only one entrance out of the building and Angel kept his eyes on it. Success. The man came out quickly carrying one of Wesley's books. Heading away from Angel towards the sidewalk that lined the deserted street. He kept on walking past a row of cars that Angel's was included in. No car. Even more interesting. Angel continued to follow, keeping enough distance to avoid detection. He had practiced over 200 years. He had stalking to a fine art.
Maybe not so fine an art. Once again, Angel had the feeling this guy could sense him. The man sped up a little and dropped his book once to take a look behind him. Angel caught it, and was able to hide himself, but he was still convinced that his cover was blown. The man kept walking, but Angel was following a little closer now. He wanted to get a good look, so he could make a composite sketch and Cordy could possibly attach a name to this book thief. He was shorter than Angel, with brown hair styled in a neglected crew cut. Entirely normal clothes, jeans and a polo shirt. That's what struck Angel the most, his normality.
But as Angel drew closer, it hit him. This guy wasn't human. A shape- shifting demon, Angel mused. Now he was very interested. Almost echoing Angel's increased awareness, the demon(?) turned a corner into an alley. Angel followed quickly, afraid to lose their only lead. He turned the corner lacking any sense of subtleness, ready to make his move and get some answers.
What he saw was both a let down and a shock. Nothing. The alley was empty. Angel moved cautiously checking behind the dumpsters, but still nothing. The two doors on either side were firmly bolted. So in addition to being a shapeshifter, this guy could make himself invisible? That narrowed down the field. After ten minutes of waiting, pretending to leave, coming back, and sniffing the air, Angel gave up and headed back to Wesley's apartment. He just hoped the book the guy stole wasn't too important. Angel knew, though, from previous experiences, the odds of that being true, weren't too great.
