I do not own Angel or The Sentinel.
This is set during season three of Angel and anytime during the series of The Sentinel. No spoilers for either show.
This is a Fic-For-All pairing.
A tall relaxed man leaned against the cabinets in the kitchen as he sipped his coffee watching a toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, and shaving cream get tossed out of the bathroom to land on clothes that had already been tossed into the suitcase sitting open on the hall floor. “How long is your conference for?”
“A week, Monday through Friday. I plan on going sight seeing on Saturday. You’re welcome to join me if you can.” A male voice originated from the bathroom as a bottle of shampoo landed on the lucky jeans.
“I’ll think about it Chief. Where are you staying again?”
Blair Sandburg, Chief to one man; his best friend Jim Ellison, dropped a last bottle of something into his suitcase before zipping it up. “With Wesley. We shared a tent on a dig once and kept in contact. The number he gave me is on a note taped to the phone.”
“Jim, I’ll be fine. This isn’t my first conference.”
“I worry about you Chief.”
“I know. I’ll call when I get there.”
Blair slowly walked down the steps from the front doors of the large hotel to ward the front desk. “Excuse me, but can you tell me if I can find Wesley Wyndham-Price here?”
Not looking up from her fashion magazine the attractive young woman pointed to a door leading away from the lobby. Blair lazily strolled into the office to see Wesley standing over a desk completely covered in books. Hurriedly flipping from one book to another and back until he cursed and started to pick at something on the page of the tome. Picking up the book he stormed into the lobby of the hotel.
Ready to breath fire and brimstone Wesley commanded, “Stop eating pizza near the books!”
A black man dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt calmly asked “Whose your friend Wes?”
“Dude behind you.” Pointing with a sharp dagger toward Blair.
“When did you get here?”
“About fifteen minutes ago.” Blair smiled at the evidence that he isn’t the only person to get sucked into a project to ignore the surrounding world.
“Oh, where is your stuff?”
“I thought I’d get it once I got to where ever I’m staying.”
“I’ve got a room ready for you upstairs if you want, ants have invaded my apartment.”
The fashion magazine girl almost screeched, “He’s staying here?”
“If he wants. That is unless you want to take him home and introduce him to Dennis.” Wesley calmly explained.
Quickly changing her opinion, “Here is good.”
“Sweet! When did we get one of these?” The black clothed man exclaimed as he pulled a large curved knife out of the enormous cabinet.
“Last week. When we broke up that brawl for Lorne.”
Wesley and Blair watched the two men clean the weapons for a moment before Wesley spoke. “We run a detective agency here, but it’s been a bit slow the last couple of weeks. Allow me to introduce everyone. Cordelia is reading the magazine, the pizza eating weapon cleaning fiends are Gunn and Angel. Angel is the one drooling over the knife. And Fred is, where is she?”
Cordelia pointed to the surface of the large ornate front desk. Wesley tugged on Blair’s sleeve to peer around and below the desk to see a long dark haired woman curled under the desk furiously scribbling on pieces of paper. “This is Fred.”
As Wesley walked with Blair to the stairs he explained, “We are a successful detective agency, called Angel Investigations.”
“After working with Major Crimes and seeing them when it gets slow, I’m not surprised at how unusual you may spend your slower days.”
“Hey Lorne, we just called for Chinese takeout. It should be here in about 30 minutes.” Cordelia didn’t look up as someone walked by her desk. The humming gave away their identity.
“I’ll be back in twenty, I just have to call up the mystical triplets. The girls wanted me to hook them up with a trio of big and handsome.” Lorne, in the bright purple suite that only he could pull off with his green skin and red horns, called out as he meandered up the stairs.
On the way to his room in the hotel he passed an normally unused room. Except it was the room that Wesley had given Blair for the week. Wesley had left Blair to unpack as he went to hunt down some bed sheets and towels. Humming a Santana song that Jim had gotten stuck in his head as he shoved clothes into the dresser, he gave Lorne an anagostic eyeful.
Returning with an arm full of linens Wesley stopped to stare at the euphoric look on Lorne’s face. “Are you all right?”
“Wonderful. I’ve only gotten a glimpse of your friend in there but wow, better than the best sea breeze.”
Blair stuck his head out into the hall way not reacting to Lorne, he exclaimed in delight at seeing the clean towels. “Wesley, great. I was hoping to take a shower, I feel gross after the trip down here.”
Stunned Wesley handed a towel to Blair, who grabbed it and started to sing as he went into his room followed by Lorne and Wesley. Lorne sat on the edge of the bed, “Your aura is breathtakingly beautiful, but oh Honey, you’re just not whole with out your other half.”
Shower forgotten from the shock at the words. “What other half? Explain now.”
“When people sung or hum, like you were, Lorne can read their aura’s. Very accurately read them. Although he is infuriatingly vague about telling what he sees.”
“Oh, so my other half, any idea who they are?”
“Not a clue Honey bun. Just that the two of you have known each other for a while now. As bright as you are alone, I’m not sure I want to read a duet if you two ever sing together. I’d probably get blissed out of my skull.”
“Cool. Are you by chance the guy that used to run Caritas?” Grinning now, Blair asked.
“How in the world do you know about Caritas and what goes on there?” Flabbergasted Wesley demanded to know.
“Who did you think I learned to play poker from?” Blair answered as he disappeared into the bathroom.