Wesley Wyndham-Pryce (i_ambookman) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2009-01-19 03:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | baba yaga, madame xanadu, wesley wyndham-pryce |
Looking for something [Babadu]
Wes had heard there were magic stores, tiny used book stores and psychic shops scattered throughout the City. He had managed to stumble his way into one or two of the book stores during his tenure in the City, picking up some wonderful copies of alchemy texts from he 15th century as well as current books on physics and astronomy. Who knew when inspiration would strike, a connection would be made, facts would fall into place until something finally made sense? Plus, he had picked up a book or two for Fred he thought she would like.
The snow was still falling, at least as hard as it had been when he and Fred had been at Angel Investigations. Still, he had needed to get out a bit. He was still not sure how this Sam person worked into the equation of their relationship. An American Wesley? Perish the thought. There was only one Wesley, and he was distinctly British. If he wasn't, then he would never have been a Watcher, never have had the intensive training that he had undergone his entire life. He would....never have been quite so awkward or hesitant about expressing his feelings for Fred. Damn this Sam, who obviously had no such compunctions. Well, they would see what would happen. Maybe this Fred wasn't ready for a relationship with Wes, maybe the time in the City led her in a different path, maybe, maybe. Too many maybes.
Daydreaming about Fred and memories he had that she did not share, he didn't notice when the streets changed and led him to a new area of town. He couldn't miss the shop that looked like Giles's old base in Sunnydale, yet wasn't. The sign and name had changed, so presumptively so had the inhabitants. But still, there was something supernaturally linked about this shop and he was duty-bound to explore its contents. Or curiosity-bound. Whatever.
He pushed open the door and barely heard the light tinkle of the bell hanging from the ceiling. He was busy scanning the interior for any objects that might prove useful to him, whether in his work at Angel Investigations or for......personal usage.