A Dragon in Hollywood: Part One
by Evil Author
"Hi, Doyle," Cordelia greeted smartly as she came in for work. "What's new?"
"Ow."
Cordelia noted that Doyle was slumped in a chair, holding his head like he had a headache. "Is that supposed to be an answer?" Cordelia asked as she sat down at her desk and booted up her computer. There was supposed to be some stuff Angel had asked her to file away on it. Cordy didn't have a clue how to do it, but Angel had insisted she learn how to use a computer. Of all the nerve! She was just his secretary, not some hacker like Willow. "'cause if it is," she continued to Doyle, "you're being incredibly rude."
"Ow."
"Now, how do you use this thing?" Cordelia said, examining some weird doohickey that was attached to the computer by a long cord. "I know!" Picking the doohickey up, she pointed it at the computer monitor and pressed a button. Nothing. "Hey, it's broken," she said disappointed. "Angel got a raw deal on this thing, Doyle."
"Ow."
"How am I supposed to use this thing if it's...hey!" Cordy snatched a pen and notepad from Doyle's hands. "Did you ask if you could take these things from my desk? No you did not! You really need to learn some manners, Doyle!"
"Ow."
* * *
The world pressed in around them, narrowed down to a slender tunnel that threatened to become too small to permit their passage. Behind them, the fireball created by Navaros' death raged after them, undisipated by the tunnel walls.
The dragon was concentrating on outracing the fireball. He flapped his wings as fast as he could, ignoring the instinct that was telling him he was flying straight down and was about to hit the ground. In this place, there was no ground.
To the girl on the dragon's back, the fireball didn't matter. Nothing mattered at all.
* * *
"What are we doing out here?" Angel asked.
"Rescuin' damsels in distress," Doyle replied, taking a swig from a whiskey bottle. It was for the after-vision pain, he claimed. "It's what you do, remember?"
"What damsels? There's no one out here but us." Angel waved a hand at the surroundings. Except for them, Angel's convertible, and the big honkin' Hollywood sign just below them, the hilltop was pretty much bare.
"But there will be," Doyle said confidently, "at precisely 9:17pm."
"It's that time now," Angel said, showing him his watch.
"Your watch is fast."
"Maybe by a minute," Angel admitted, "but it should take longer than that to get up here. What is she going to do? Fall out of the sky?"
Thunder drowned out any reply Doyle might have made. Looking up, Angel saw a vortex rip open in the sky. He knew what it was because he distinctly remembered falling through one a long time ago.
A winged figure flew out of the vortex, seemingly propelled by a brilliant white fireball. As the vortex closed up, the winged figure halted its headlong flight just short of crashing into the hillside. It set down gently next to the Hollywood sign.
"That's a...that's a..." Angel stammered, totally amazed at what he was seeing. In all of his two hundred and fortyfour years, he had never seen a dragon before. He turned to Doyle. "That's a damsel?"
"Oh, no," Doyle answered. He seemed as surprised as Angel. "I think it's the lassie climbing off it's back. By the way, it is now _exactly_ 9:17pm."
* * *
"Rynn, I think we're safe," Arokh told his passenger. Through the soul-bond they shared, he could feel the girl's grief. As a dragon, he could not quite comprehend the depth of grief Rynn was feeling; it was a human thing.
Rynn climbed off Arokh's back and immediately broke down in tears. For all his size and power, Arokh felt inadequate. Much as he wanted to, he had no idea how to comfort her. So he fell back on old habits and old training.
Raising his head, Arokh studied his surroundings, looking for any familiar landmarks. He was on a hillside, next to some kind of row of giant symbols. The symbols were in no language he knew, brightly illuminated by a row of smokeless torches that glowed steadily and brightly. The sky was cloudcovered and dark, so it was probably night. And in the plain below the hill...
Arokh let out a puff of fire in shock.
Lights. Lots of lights. It was as if someone had taken the stars out of the sky and laid them out in neat geometric patterns. They stretched as far as he could see. And some...many of those lights moved.
"Arokh?" Rynn asked, his shock cutting through her grief. "What is it?"
Arokh turned his head to Rynn. Before he could speak, a movement in the dark caught his eye. Someone was sneaking up on them!
With a low roar, Arohk let out a jet of flame.
* * *
Not quite knowing what the score was, Angel had opted for the stealthy approach. He'd see what he could learn before introducing himself. While he was a good fighter, he didn't fancy his chances against a twenty foot dragon.
The girl was down on the ground, crying her heart out. It wasn't in fear of the dragon. It looked more like grief. Angel was all too familiar with both types of tears. He had caused enough of both in the past.
The girl was a slender red head, her waist length hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore some sort of dark, form- fitting suit.
The dragon, well illuminated by the nearby lights, had deep red scales, a long serpentine neck, and wings neatly folded at its sides. Angel wondered if the dragon...
He dropped to the ground as a bright flame jetted at him.
...breathed fire. Luckily, the flame jet ended well short of Angel. Otherwise, he would have been so much ash.
"Who's out there!" the girl shouted as she scrambled to her feet. As she did so, she reached behind her back and pulled the biggest sword Angel had ever seen from out of nowhere. It shone with magic; little blue streamers of light coursed up and down the sword's length. "Show yourself!"
So much for stealth.
Angel slowly stood up, hands raised in what he hoped would be interpreted as nonthreatening. "Ah...hello?"
* * *
A human!
Rynn lowered the Runeblade, embarrased and angry at herself. She had been prepared to attack a human. That just drove home to her just how inadequate she really was. The stranger was an oddly dressed man in a dark longcoat. In another state of mind, she would have thought him handsome.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Rynn apoligized to the stranger. "I thought you might have been a Wartok."
"Uh...right." The man still seemed wary, looking at Arokh who was scrutinizing the man like he was some kind of bug.
"Oh, I'm sorry. This is Arokh," Rynn said, placing a hand on Arokh's shoulder. *Arokh, down,* she sent mentally. "And I'm Rynn."
"Yeah...hi," the man said uncertainly as Arokh settled down. "I'm Angel."
A strange name, Rynn thought, but appropriate. Now where had that thought come from?
*Something is not right about this Angel,* Arokh sent. *He smells wrong.* To Angel he asked aloud, "Where are we?"
Angel glanced at the giant symbols as he approached cautiously. Well, Rynn supposed those symbols were fairly well known around here, but she had never heard of them. And apparently, neither had Arokh.
* * *
Angel considered the facts as he readied an answer. While the dragon - Arokh his name was - wasn't hostile, he didn't seem wholly friendly either. In fact, his attitude kind of reminded Angel of Xander, except Arokh looked like he could and would toast Angel if he tried to hurt Rynn.
Okay, one: Arokh and Rynn fall out of a vortex.
Two: Rynn was carrying what was obviously a magic sword of some sort that Angel had never heard about.
And three: They didn't recognize a world famous landmark.
"Welcome to the city of Los Angeles," Angel said. "So, what...ah, brings you to this world?"
Rynn suddenly broke down in tears again, Angel suddenly found his arms full, awkwardly trying to comfort Rynn.
Arokh just huffed, looking mighty irritated.
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