MCA #0. Tuesday Night.

[needsaparrot]

Xander was expecting to have to deal with all kinds of fallout from this weekend; he knew minor property damage was likely to be the least of his worries. What he wasn't expecting was that it would somehow end up being his broken door he was currently fixing. Diligently. With every tool in his travel case, now moved out of his former room at the Arms, spread across the floor in front of the glass doors, just in case he might need them.

Trying to occupy himself so he didn't leave yet another voice-mail message, or start thinking too hard about why he hadn't had a response to any of them? Or thinking too hard about anything, really?

Why no.
___
[OOC: For do we really need to say? Why no.]

Comments

[needsaparrot]

There was only so much you could ask of a guy trying to make sure things stayed not-fucked-up, and not seeing Bridge was way across the international borders of the Land of Too.

"Well, yeah. L.A. Plus if you've got time sometime soon--" Xander gestured to the boarded door again. "--I was hoping you could take a look at the alarm on the door. Undead-me did a real number on it, and this security system's way beyond anything I've ever helped install."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"I can do that," Bridge says with a grin, as he turn to head out the door. "It's good, having you back," he adds over his shoulder as he leaves.

[needsaparrot]

"It's good to be here," Xander said. He waited until the door closed, though, to add, "I missed you."

Then he walked into his - the - bedroom and picked the stuffed frog up off the pillow. He stared at it for a while, touched the badge that had been pinned to it for so long the fur was worn down around it, then carried it across the room and placed it on a shelf.