Room 406, Sunday morning/early afternoon

[izzyalienqueen]

When Isabel woke Sunday morning, she was surprised to see that Xander hadn't returned to the room during the night. After showering and getting dressed, she fed Jeramiah, grateful that he ate dried meal worms instead of live ones.

"Well, looks like we missed all the excitement yesterday. Do you think I should go look for Xander?"

"Croak..."

"Okay what does that mean? He's fine? He's been eaten by the snow monsters? Or do you just want more food?"

"Ribbit..."

"More food, okay..." She dropped a few more meal worms into the tank and then eyed Xander's computer. She'd seen it sitting in the second floor common room last night but didn't see Xander around so she'd brought it back to the room for safe keeping. The last thing she felt like doing was more homework. It was still early, she'd wait a little while and then go looking for him. But in the meantime she hoped Xander wouldn't mind if she used the computer to play solitare.

Opening it up, she pressed the power button, and settled down to play.

[ooc: Open to anyone who wants to stop by. AFK until 3:30 EST though I'm back!]

Comments

[izzyalienqueen.livejournal.com]

Isabel couldn't decide if Xander was really that distracted or just a master at avoiding the issue. Maybe there was some truth to that phone call she'd gotten in the beginning of the term. She shrugged, it really didn't matter to her either way. And hey, Lee was pretty...

"Nocturnal study group? What's that?"

[soldtoarmenians]

Call Angel if you have questions. Xander read - not aloud - and retroactively recognised the handwriting, having seen it on various research notes back in Sunnydale. Oh. Still bzuh, then, because since when did Angel invite him to anything, but given the phrasing, it sounded kind of seekrit and scoobylike.

"Oh, yeah, that," he said quickly, shoving the note into the pocket of the cleanish shirt that was hanging on his chair. "Study session for Magical Theory - I, ah. Forgot about it, with everything else that's gone down this weekend."

[izzyalienqueen.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, it's been that kind of weekend." She motioned at the paint that was slowly drying on his shirt and skin. "You might want to hit the shower and get the paint washed off before it dries. Unless you're going for a new look."

"Also, I'm going to be doing some laundry later today. If you want I can wash what you're wearing now so the paint won't stain it permanently." He'd never have to know that she used anything more then regular laundry detergent.

[soldtoarmenians]

"Yeah, good call, especially since I haven't been back here since what, Friday night?"

Xander blinked, then his eyes darted up to the frog tank. "Oh god, Jeremiah - he hasn't been fed since then! Geez, I'm worse than my parents. Mom might not cook but at least there was always some kind of food."

[izzyalienqueen.livejournal.com]

Isabel wrinkled her nose. "Ewww!" And then pointed in the direction of the shower. "That way. Fast!"

"Don't worry about Jeremiah, I fed him this morning. I didn't want him to be hungry."

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander snorted. "Gee, thanks." He grabbed the clean shirt off his chair and headed for his dresser to add more clothes to that, then turned around and added with a grin, "And also, gee, thanks. For frog-feeding."

Clean clothes in hand, he ducked into the bathroom. A few moments later, a paint-spattered hand reached out through the barely-cracked door and dropped an equally paint-spattered t-shirt and pair of jeans outside it, before snaking back in. "And there would be another gee, thanks..."

[izzyalienqueen.livejournal.com]

"Anytime. He's sweet." She said as he closed the bathroom door.

When the door opened again and his clothes dropped out, she got up and picked them up gingerly. Carefully folding them to minimize paint exposure. If she happened to finish drying the paint until she had time and privacy to remove it, well that just kept things neat. "I'd say anytime, but I really don't want to make a habit of doing your laundry," she called through the door.

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander wondered privately as he started the hot water running why she was going with the 'doing laundry' story, but hey, if his roomie wasn't comfy talking about whatever weird All-Temperature Cheer powers she had, he could follow. God knew Buffy hadn't exactly been big on letting people know she was a Slayer for a long time.

"Not a problem; can't say I really make a habit of it myself," he called back, though his voice was probably muffled by the sound of the shower as he stepped into it and started sluicing the paint out of his hair.

Blech. HopefulLEEly Lee wasn't having quite as hard a time of it in his shower, he thought, thoughtfulLEEly.

Not that he was thinking of Lee in the shower. Well, he was thinking of Lee in his shower, but not in Lee's shower. Except now he sort of was thinking of Lee's shower, but only because he was following the thought-pattern to its logical conclusion. As you do. LogicaLEEly.

Right, then.