Wesley had been rifling through his old books, which had magically appeared in the storage room in the hotel. He was thrilled to find them all here; this would really help him in his research on the City and a possible way home.
He had a pencil gripped between his teeth, the better to take notes with when a thought occurred to him, when he heard a voice in the reception area. He stood up abruptly, hit his head on a shelf and cursed.
"By Azazel, that hurt. Bloody hell!"
Rubbing his head and clutching the ancient Gnostic prophecy text he had found last, he emerged dusty into the sunny front room.
"Um, hello. I'm Wesley. Angel Investigations here. Recently reestablished. How may I assist you?"