August 4th: Mind the stumps
August 8th: Monkeys are always funny
August 15th: We wear not very short shorts
In Which There Are No Circus Folk
Which Isabel and Wyatt miss
Tony informs his plus-one
The Thing That Happens At The Wedding
In Which Xander Takes His Leave
Way Too Early Sunday Morning
Signs at MCA
Ray was right. Sitting down wasn't a problem. Leaning back was a problem. Which was why Xander was sprawled out on his stomach on the living room rug, tapping away at his laptop.
You missed underwear gnomes. And people being shirtless in the park. And I miss you and I got a (top secret) tattoo. These things are only indirectly related. And also something else but I invoke BFF privilege #23 to not tell you what until later in exchange for you being the first person I tell when later happens.
How's tricks by you?
It would be wrong to send it to himself and BCC both of them. But not like special hell wrong, so he hit Send.
[Linkdroppy, but open for the BFF if she wants to reply!]
He should be getting some rest -- it's not like the other person in his bed is keeping him awake. Bridge, after moving his stuff back from the cabins, dumping it in his room, then making his way across town for a late dinner, is out like the proverbial light - and the real ones too.
It's late, and it's dark, and Xander ought to be asleep, but he's not. He's sitting with his back against the headboard, the window open to let in the suddenly misty air, watching Bridge's chest rise and fall. Thinking about more people he loves leaving, growing up in another direction from the way she'd grown in another dimension, but still, up. About the fact that they'll be leaving at the end of the summer. Both of them. He'd add hopefully to that, but Xander realizes he can't picture a future that doesn't have both of them in it.
[OOC: Mostly stablishy, but also for the modded-with-permission B-word-person]
What? He had to pass Luke's Diner.
When he lets himself into the apartment, he's glad to see Bridge's jacket draped over the back of a couch, but most of the lights are out. There's a dim glow from the master bedroom, and he follows it back there, quietly pushing the door open. The lamp on the nightstand is turned down to its lowest setting, just bright enough to make out the shape of Bridge's face in sleep, half pressed into the pillow.
After this morning's wake-up call, Xander doesn't have the heart to disturb him. Instead, he just stands in the doorway for a long time, watching the shift of the covers, rising and falling to the slow, steady sound of Bridge's breath.
Finally, he turns and walks back to the living room, pulling out his laptop to tap out one last e-mail before returning to crawl under the covers himself.
Subject: Do not ask. Never, never ask.
I didn't lick the frog. Do you know a spell to....
[Linkstaaaablishy! B-word-person modded with permission.]
But hey, there are other Things One Can Do. Or, more accurately, Things Two Can Do. Like have a nice nutritious dinner.
Spaghettios are nutritious, right?
[OOC: For the wee b-word-person.]
At least he still had a warm body to sleep with? Even if half the time he woke up with a furry tail tickling the end of his nose.
Which, oddly, isn't happening right now. Xander's 7/8ths asleep, so he isn't quite registering what's wrong with that, but his fingers are already patting around on the pillow reaching for something that isn't there.
[OOC: For the furry tail-owner. Up early for great OMG a weekend away from RP - withdrawal! Withdrawal!]
Isabel had gone home after their meeting with Parker and Jarod, but Xander and Bridge had decided they'd be less wiped-out tomorrow if they stayed here instead of going back to the island. It'd have been nice if there were any rooms left at the Hyatt besides the rockstars-have-parties-in-the-jacuzzi kind, but any bed without living things besides him and Bridge in it would do, really, for one night.
At least this was a slow week, not another one filled with recovering from being taken over by somebody else for the weekend or visiting people in the clinic. Hate The Moon Day Parties and birthdays were a lot less exhausting. So was spending time with Bridge, meeting new tenants, and goofing off with old friends.
Tomorrow, though.... not so much with the goofing off. Xander flops back on the motel room bed and stretches, then sits back up, fiddling with the remote, kind of tired and wired at the same time.
[For the B-word-person. NFB due to distance, NWS due to magic fingers.]
So... pretty much Xander's doing something that's more properly described as 'staring at his kitchen and wondering if it'd be cheating to dump the whole thing and start pressing random buttons on the food replicator.'
It's been... a day.
[OOC: For the boyfriend.]
Ooh look, a dining room table. With food on it.
Since he's himself again, Xander's figuring it's probably his turn to make breakfast - or in this case brunch, since he's waiting for Bridge's class to let out before feeding him. Which he's all for, because brunch is very firmly daylight, and right now? Daylight is of the good.
Somebody to eat said food would be good too.
[OOC: for the b-word-person. Bitey-fangy-pointy conversation topics NFB, please.]
Xander's on the couch with his laptop out, poking at the books for (Y)MCA. Damn if it hasn't been a busy month, between new tenants and repair jobs coming in. Not that he can complain; it'll give him something to answer when his fellow grads ask what he's been up to besides "went bowling, ate challah, and watched Dawn turn eighteen for the second time." That and reassure them that the fine upstanding Fandom tradition of crazy people on the radio hasn't died out.
[For ze boyfriend]
So he was sitting at the counter poking at them every so often, not sure until he opened each whether he'd find a toy surprise or his income-tax receipts from 2005.
[Open for tenants, staff, and visitors, and going up early for Certain Staff Members to be able to ping in before work. I, on the other hand, am for bed.]
Beyond that, ( a long hallway stretched... )
[OOC: Preplayed with willbedone and bridge_carson. Acorns courtesy of likeguidelines!]
The apartments above were probably still warm, but that wouldn't last if he didn't get the heat started again, so Xander left a note at the office and on his door indicating for any similarly-nipped residents that yes, he was working on it. And he was. Two floors down -- one of them stairs-only -- in the sub-basement. Flashlight in one hand and box of matches in the other, staring at the boiler and wondering where exactly the pilot-light was on this model.
( As you do... )
[OOC: Closed to IC interaction; there'll be an open MCA office post
He'd left a note downstairs at the desk indicating where he was, just in case someone came by looking for him, and one on the door of his apartment.
[OOC: Locked to a couple of specific people to preserve sanity; veritable mountain of work on desk may mean bouts of SP-from-Hades-the-place.]