Suite 518/520, Friday night

[demonbelthazor]

Since Phoebe had gone to bed early, Bel hung out in the living room of their suite, idly flipping through the channels on the TV and contemplating his courses from that week. Pop Culture would be useful for understanding some of the phrases and references his classmates made that went over his head. Criminal Justice was interesting so far. It kinda went with the hero thing. He'd survived Hunting 101 and Ethics unscathed, and was now considering adding a fifth class; he'd talk to Phale on Monday about adding Prophecy. Never knew when that kind of knowledge might come in handy, particularly with a prophetic girlfriend.

He was feeling an almost distressing need to impress his teachers, two in particular. He idly contemplated ways to do this as he continued to flip though the channels.

He should probably tell Phoebe his plans for Saturday night at some point, too.

[open if you have need to distract the demon.]

Comments

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

Bored and wandering the dorms after having the weirdest argument ever with Cally, Anders decided to knock on a random door and see what happened.

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

Cally stopped right next to Anders.

"Gah, what the frak, are you following me?!"

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Gah!" Anders yelped, surprised. "Am not!"

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

"Are too!" Cally said, throwing up her hands and stalking down the hall to her room.

[demonbelthazor]

Bel came to the door and opened it up, looking at Anders and Cally with amusement. "Who did what to who now?"

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Gyah!" yelped Anders. Of all the people to show up, he hadn't been expecting Bel. "I don't even remember -- what are you doing on this floor?"

[demonbelthazor]

"I live here," Bel said. "You knocked on my door. What do you want?"

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"I thought you lived on the . . . um, I didn't know this was your room, actually." If anyone could read Anders's thoughts at this particular moment, there was a vague chance something about 'don't make me wear a dress again' could be discerned. Maybe. "I was just bored, and sort of wandering. So, uh, hi."

[demonbelthazor]

"Awww, and here I was hoping you were here to give me another fashion show," Bel said.

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Oh, hell no. Not ever again," Anders said immediately. "Wait, did you say hoping?"

[demonbelthazor]

"You look good in a dress," Bel said. "Red's your color."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"I like blue," Anders grumbled. "Conner looks better in red than I do . . . hey, you were totally looking!"

[demonbelthazor]

"You were wriggling right in front of me, how could I miss it?" Bel said.

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"You could have looked away," Anders pointed out.

[demonbelthazor]

"Every time I turned my head you were right there!" Bel said.

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"What can I say? I've got skills." That smirk? Totally designed to be maddening.

[demonbelthazor]

"Maybe you've got a new career ahead of you," Bel said, smirking right back. "Next time try a striptease and see how many one dollar bills you can make."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Ones, hell. Twenties," snorted Anders. "As if I'd strip in public in this school ever again. Sorry, dude, you're out of luck there."

[demonbelthazor]

Bel snapped his fingers. "Damn. I can't tell you how disappointed I am."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Need a tissue for those emo tears there?" Anders asked dryly.

[demonbelthazor]

"Should've known you'd be carrying them around like a girl," Bel shot back.

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

Anders snorted. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not your tissue-carrying bitch."

[demonbelthazor]

"Then what kind of bitch are you?" Bel asked. His smirk grew bigger if it was all possible.

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Only one way to find out," Anders retorted, making a show out of stretching and putting his hands behind his head.

[demonbelthazor]

"That an invitation then?" Bel said.