The Kinkos' guy looked at him like he had sprouted another head, but it was something he was used to. Not many people in North Texas believed in demons, it seemed. At least, not until they ran through your living room and started climbing the walls and dripping green goo onto your white linen tablecloths. Then they became very real. And when they started walking around town after Labor Day, wearing shorts and long, white socks to cover up their scaly, knobby knees, they became hunted. Obviously, though, this Kinkos' guy hadn't seen one of those demons. "You're kidding, right?" he asked.

Wesley shook his head. "Can I get those by three?" The young man nodded, still obviously not believing him. Didn't matter, Wes no longer cared. He was a lone wolf now. And he had a meeting with the mayor at three-thirty, and needed those business cards.

With a satisfied grin, he left the store. His first business cards. Today was an important day in the life of Wesley Wyndham-Price, former Watcher. He was finally on his own, no family, no Council to back him. It was a day he had looked forward to for years, never believing that it would actually come. But when Buffy had left the Council, he had gone as well. Sure, everyone in Sunnydale probably thought he'd been fired, if they thought about it at all. But after their refusal to help with the Ascension situation, Wesley had snapped, and quit. And since then, he'd been on the road, never staying anywhere long enough to be found. Not quite on the run, but not safe enough to stay in one place. Making a living by hunting down killers. And now he was in a no-name town, hunting down a no-name demon, for enough money to keep him off the streets for another couple of months.

As he waited for his cards, he thought of the people he had called friends back in Sunnydale, and wondered what they were doing now. It was August…Buffy and Willow were probably getting ready to go back to school. Faith was still in the hospital, unconscious. He checked on her anonymously once a week. Cordelia had told him of her plan to go to LA and become famous, she was probably already going to auditions, living the star's life. Giles was still estranged from the Council, and Wesley wondered what he would do now, with his job at the school being gone. With everyone else, he didn't know what their plans were, or in some cases, didn't care.

He was back at the copy place just before 3:00 to pick up his business cards, and then he was off to City Hall to meet with the mayor.

"So you're telling me it looks like a green tourist?" Wesley clarified.

The mayor, an attractive blond in her fifties, nodded. "Can you kill it?" she asked.

"Yes." It was said without much enthusiasm. He'd been hoping for something more dangerous.

"Good," she said, satisfied. "When you're done with that, I have a friend who could use you in Graceland," she added.

"I…err…" Graceland? Elvis fans...rabid tourists...he wasn't sure if that was the sort of crowd he wanted to mix with. Whatever it was that controlled his fate had a pretty vicious sense of humor. "Right. We'll talk about it when I get back," he promised, then rushed off to kill the touristy demon that plagued the small town.

Sometimes his job was too easy. The knobby-kneed green demon hadn't exactly been stealthy in his trek across town, and all Wesley had to do was follow the path of people screaming in terror until he reached the public pool, across the street from the high school. Throwing the doors open, he followed it inside, where he found it swimming laps, as if nothing was wrong.

"Excuse me," Wesley called, his voice echoing across the water.

"Yes?" The demon stopped swimming and started treading water halfway down the pool.

The former Watcher cleared his throat. "Err…the people of this town would like you to leave."

"They don't want me to swim anymore?" the demon asked, the scaly skin on his neck rippling as if he had gills…which it seemed he did.

Wesley finally recognized him as an amphibious demon, and a rather harmless one. "That too," he replied. "But mostly they just want you to leave town."

The demon nodded. "Yeah, I was kind of starting to sense that," he agreed, heading towards the edge of the pool. "I was going to leave tonight anyway. I'm on my way to the coast."

"Very good," Wesley said, approving. "Well, safe journey."

"And to you, good sir," he replied, climbing out of the pool. "I'll just be on my way, then."

Wesley watched as the demon exited the building, his white socks dripping water all over the tile surrounding the pool, then followed him out, and proceeded to escort him to the town limit. When they reached the Welcome sign, both turned to go their separate ways. The demon went southeast, towards the Gulf of Mexico, and Wesley headed back north, towards City Hall.

"He's gone," he assured the Mayor, who was quite grateful, and thankfully didn't ask if Wesley had killed the demon or not. "So I'll just collect my fee and be on my way, then," he said quickly, hoping to avoid the subject of her previously mentioned friend.

No such luck. "Wait," she said. "I do think my friend could use you." She handed him a piece of paper, and he could see an address and phone number scrawled across it, the handwriting loopy and quite feminine. "I've faxed her your business card, she's expecting you within the week," she instructed, obviously not willing to take no for an answer.

Wesley sighed. "Fine," he agreed. "If you speak to her, please tell her I'll be there in a few days."

A few hours later, he had gathered his things, and was on his motorcycle, heading east. Graceland, here I come, he thought.