We work and we slave.

With free time before Self-Defense, Angel went down to the Assistants' Lounge and made himself comfortable.

Sean was there. He nosed around all the new things, his attention occasionally drawn to a certain cabinet.

Angel was busy drawing. Depending on when someone looked over his shoulder they might notice rough drafts of campaign posters, sketches of a certain blonde he'd gone out with on Sunday, or pictures that were really not appropriate for children to be looking at this last catagory might or might not have overlapped with the pictures of the blonde.

There was a pot of fresh coffee brewing.

[ooc: Shamelessly stealing from Angela's reminder yesterday - The lounge is open for TAs, clinic aides, library staff and invited friends. Only TAs and such have keys, though, and the door is locked when none of them are around. If you're a TA and don't have community membership, request it here.]