Fray-Adjacent

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

Xander? Had not had the best night. Oh, it had started off well enough, but then his potential meals-and-more had been fangblocked by that little blonde Slayer, and his reunion with Willow went tits-up too, and not in the fun way. Actually, in the crossy, burny, owie, insult to injury way. He was tired, he was hungry, he had cross-burns on his chest and he-didn't-want-to-think-about-it in his hair, and the last thing he wanted to do was trek halfway across this damn island on foot to get from the preserve out to the hotel again.

Which is why when he passed the apartment building with the darkened full-length patio windows on the ground floor, he cocked his head and peered inside. A whine so high-pitched that probably only dogs and vampires could hear it announced that there was an alarm on the place, but he traced the sound to the well-concealed little box it was coming from, and ripped out the wires connecting it to the door. Then he shrugged, wrapped his jacket around his hand, and ( punched through the glass )
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[OOC: So very very very establishy only because omg 4:30 a.m. Unless BFF-with-benefits would like to track him here and show up before dawn.]