Title: In Transition

Author: Jedi Buttercup

Disclaimer: All your Buffy and Angel are belong to Joss Whedon.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Wesley greets the Sunnydale crew as they arrive at the Hyperion post-apocalypse. 500 words.

Spoilers: Post A:tS 4.22, "Home" and B:tVS 7.22, "Chosen"

Whether by fate or some mischance, Wesley was the only one present at the Hyperion Hotel when the survivors of the Sunnydale collapse arrived on its doorstep. Angel and the others had already moved most of their possessions into the housing provided by Wolfram and Hart, eager to immerse themselves in their new careers. Wesley had remained behind primarily to salvage the few texts and mystically enhanced objects not already owned by the firm from Angel Investigation's library and weapons collection. It was a thankless job, but it had to be done, and Wesley was the most qualified to do it.

He was considering the merits of the sixteenth-century Murshan Dynasty dagger Angel had acquired for him during his retreat two years prior, when the Slayer whose death had triggered that retreat walked through the hotel doors. Several other people he recognized and others he did not-- mostly Potential Slayers, judging from their general age and gender-- crowded closely in behind her, milling about with weary, lost expressions.

They didn't see him immediately, and Wesley took a moment to examine the signs of battle clinging to them, evident in visible wounds, torn clothing, and a liberal coating of dirt. Buffy herself bore a dark stain on both the front and back of the tan jacket she wore, evidence of a through-and-through injury concealed beneath it. Despite the wound and the grime, however, she seemed more beautiful than ever, a new maturity and serenity evident in her movements.

She was the first to notice his presence; her eyes widened as she spied him partially hidden beside the weapons cabinet, and she smiled. "Hey, Wes," she said. "What's a girl gotta do to get some service around here?"

"I'm afraid you've caught us at a bad time," he said, then smiled ruefully at his inadvertent repetition of the words he'd said to her the last time they'd met. "Angel is closing the hotel; he has already moved into our new offices, and most of the rooms have been stripped. If you would like to clean up, however, I believe the water has not yet been shut off."

"Moving up in the world, huh?" she said rhetorically.

He nodded, deciding it would be best not to elaborate at present. "I take it the latest apocalypse has been averted, then?"

"And how," she said, smiling sadly. "Stick around? We'll tell you all about it after we get cleaned up."

"Of course," he answered, gesturing with the dagger in his hands. "I have more to do here; it will take me some hours to finish. In the meantime, if everyone is hungry, I could place an order for several large pizzas on the firm's tab...?"

There was a general murmur of agreement from the group behind her; Buffy glanced back at her friends, then focused on him again. "That would be great," she said, her smile widening. "Thank you, Wes."

"My pleasure," he said, and found that he meant it. His new office could wait.

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© 2006 Jedi Buttercup.