Fray-Adjacent

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.

Dear Willow:

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?

love,
Xander

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.]