Xander's already handwavily sent out e-mails letting people know his new cellphone number if they didn't have it already, and his UC Sunnydale e-mail address, and... when he's leaving. Which he finally has to say 'tomorrow morning' about instead of 'Friday' because they're one and the same.

Now... he's still packing. Posters, folders, last-minute items and just stuff he wanted to leave up for as long as possible to make the room acknowledge that for now, he still lives here. Every so often he and Bridge are taking a break to look at pictures or watch a dvd, because at this point he's on the flipside of where he was yesterday: if he packs too fast, the room'll be empty, and Xander can't quite take that, not yet.

You can't really say Jeremiah's taking a break; he'd have to have been working in the first place for that to be true. He's just going back and forth between supervising the packing and supervising the loafing.

The door is open. Xander's yearbook is on the desk next to Jeremiah, for anyone who feels like signing it.

__

[Open all day, or ping in tomorrow if needed since some importantomg people are unfortunately afk today. Good for slowplay until... it's done.]

He was trying to make sure that every minute he had left in Fandom this summer counted. Xander had the feeling someone like Willow wouldn't see it that way, because she'd be trying to cram every possible experience known to humankind into this last month, but... he was good with small and slow and relaxed, so when he remembered this, he'd remember loving it.

So food and fun in the fake snow, a comfortingly familiar dinner in an unfamiliar place, drinking games, making a rare trip to Caritas by himself when Bridge hadn't been feeling well, spending time on the beach with Rory, Callisto and Bridge, teaching his workshop, hanging out in the Common Rooms, playing carnival games and riding the Ferris Wheel with Bridge... It was as close to just right as anything with 'this last month' involved in its description was ever going to be. Not ever enough, but... right.


[*And no mental wherewithal to turn it into an e-mail, so yay lazy narration. Not open for interaction as he's about to wander off to the Common Room.]

Dear Willow, continued.

... he is if we go by the 'one date and everybody starts calling you that so might as well go with the flow' method, which is popular around here.

Sorry, meant to finish this last night and send it today, but Bridge turned into a ferret. Then there were gnomes, then I had to explain to five million people (Veronica + Piper + Callisto + Rory + Other You + Very Polite Japanese Girl Whose Name I Have No Idea How To Spell + Jack + Nadia + Alanna And Her Evil Cat + D'anna = 5,000,000) how I have no idea why Bridge is a ferret, and then there was poi.

So it's been kind of a day.

Love, Xander.

P.S. What's the chance of getting some butterbeer and -- I didn't ask, just smiled and nodded -- pumpkin juice shipped over here? Isabel wants to treat one of the new kids to the comforts of home.

The door's open, but there's a whiteboard propped on a box in the hallway next to it that says,

"Last night in 406 before I move down to the first floor. Wander in if you want, unless you're a vampire. There's foodity. ~Xander (the one without the accent)"