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Chapter One:
Somewhere between Seacouver and Los Angeles:
Ah, the thrill of the open road! The wind in your hair (when you weren’t wearing a helmet, of course), the sun on your back, and your motorbike eating up the miles like the little dots in the old pacman games. Richie Ryan grinned to himself as he sped down the highway. It was early afternoon and Seacouver was miles behind him. He was now officially on his own, and on holiday. He’d decided to go and see LA, it being a place he’d never seen. Having been to New York, Paris and even London, LA was next on his list of must-see places. He still couldn’t believe all the places he’d seen, how much he’d learnt in the past few years. He always imagined he’d never leave Seacover. Tessa had certainly put paid to that plan. He smiled at the thought of the woman who had been the second closest person to a mother he’d even had. She had somehow managed the impossible, and installed some kind of culture in a street punk. Now, he had to admit, one of the good things about immortality was being able to travel and learn, experience. LA! Maybe he’d meet some beautiful actresses, run into a movie star or two. Yeah, right, Ryan, he told himself, the only beautiful women you’re bound to meet are the kind who carry long swords and want to kill you! But nothing could spoil his holiday mood. After months of hard work at the dojo, he deserved a break, and he was determined to enjoy himself.
Downtown Los Angeles, early evening:
"Doyle! You’re supposed to be rehearsing with me, not rewriting the script!" Cordelia Chase yelled at her friend.
"Sorry, Cordy. It’s just this script is so…I mean, I could better. I just did! Why did you even take this job?"
"Yeah, well, they probably won’t be listening to the words…Don’t look at me like that, you know as well as anyone what these sun-lotion commercials are like. This is LA, and I am trying to be an actress".
"Yeah, but, princess, that’s…that’s them. That’s not you. Besides, I thought you said they wouldn’t be looking at your acting".
"Doyle, there’s acting and there’s acting", Cordelia replied, looking down her nose at him, "and in case you hadn’t noticed, demon-killing? Not a well-paid profession". She glared at him, annoyed at the conservation. When he’d offered to help her practice her lines for a commercial she was shooting the next day, she hadn’t expected it to be so much, well, work.
"Cordy…", he began. But whatever was he was going to say was overtaken by his sounds of pain. Clutching his head with one hand, he reached for a chair to steady himself with the other.
"Not a way to win an argument, Doyle".
"Arrgghh. Vision, Cordy, vision", he replied, starting to come out of it.
"Oh. Right, of course. Sorry. I’ll…I’ll get some pain-killers".
"So, what did you see?" she asked as he sat down and swallowed the tablets.
"A guy. About 20 years old. Short, curly red hair. Versus a sword-wielding psycho and gets chopped to pieces." He took a deep breath.
Cordelia shuddered at the thought.
"Demon?" she asked.
"Who, the kid or the maniac?"
"Ha, ha".
"Dunno. Looked pretty human actually, but looks can be deceptive. Whatever, it looks like TPTB wants us to help".
"Yeah. So, what time did Angel say he’d be back?"
Richie strolled out of the coffee shop, wondering if there were any cheap motels not too far away. He’d arrived in downtown LA in early evening and had decided to grab a coffee and sandwich before even starting to think about where to spend the night. It wasn’t that late but he was worried about finding a place that wasn’t already full. He looked around him. Wow, LA! Ok, so this was the less desirable part, but he could cope with that. It still looked pretty good from where he was standing. Tomorrow, he told himself, he’d go find a couple of cute young actresses.
Lost in thought Richie almost didn’t notice the tall, thin man who seemed to suddenly appear out of the surrounding shadows.
"Hey, you got a light?"
"Uh, no. Sorry", Richie smiled and walked on.
"Ok, then, what about your wallet?" the man asked, grabbing Richie’s arm.
"Oh, man! Look, I haven’t got much…"
"Well, I’ll take it. Oh, and while you’re at it, I’ll take your blood as well".
Richie shook his arm free and turned back to face his opponent wondering what the Hell he’d gotten into now. He was faced with glowing eyes, a ridged forehead and fangs that were protruding out of a mouth that was smiling at him evilly.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the street, two men rounded a corner and immediately noticed Richie. The tall one wore a long black coat and a solemn gaze. The other wore a short jacket and spoke with an Irish accent. He also didn’t look too happy.
"Shit! That’s the guy from the vision!" the Irishman noted.
"This when he gets killed?" the tall one asked.
"I don’t know. I thought it was daytime, but the visions don’t come with a rule-book you know?"
"That the other guy?"
"No, come to think of it, I don’t think so. But I’m still thinking trouble. I’m getting…"
"Vampire", Angel finished, beginning to rush over, pulling out a stake from an inside coat pocket. Doyle followed closely, but pulled up short as both watched Richie suddenly pull out his sword and face off against the vampire who, after a minute, moved just a split-second too slowly to be beheaded.
"I may be wrong here, but I’m guessing this guy is doing pretty well by himself".
"Maybe. There’s something funny going on here. I just can’t quite put my finger on it." Angel watched Richie closely as the immortal quickly sheathed his sword and glanced around nervously to see whether anyone was watching. After a minute he turned and made eye-contact with Angel.
"That is the guy from the vision, right? So there must be some reason why we have to help him", Angel commented to Doyle, not taking his eyes off Richie, and slowly beginning to walk towards him. Richie had started to pale visably and, as Angel advanced, his hand wavered in the direction of his inside jacket pocket. The one where he kept his sword.
"You mean, besides the whole getting chopped to bits thing? I think he may have some insight into that, though".
But Angel wasn’t listening to Doyle anymore. He was wondering why TPTB had sent him to a guy who could so obvious defend himself against vampires and demons.
"Nice sword", he commented.
"Uh, yeah. Thanks. You-you saw that, huh?"
"Yeah".
"That man…"
"Not a man. A vampire".
"Really?! Shit! I mean he did have fangs,
and everything…He exploded into a pile of dust!"
"Better that than him killing you".
"Well, I guess I kind of acted on instinct…"
"Good instincts", Doyle commented, having come to a decision and joined them. Well, the guy didn’t feel like a demon…
"Well…" Richie shrugged.
"Oh, man! This is too much. Vampires?! Great, Ryan, don’t have enough danger and weirdness in your life already?", he told himself.
"I’m Doyle by the way. This is Angel".
"Oh, right. Richie Ryan…Listen, uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but you two aren’t…"
"Gonna try and bite you, drink your blood…Nah. We usually just try to kill them".
"Uh-huh. You-you get lots of, er, vampires in LA, then?"
"You’d be surprised".
Richie shook his head, and rubbed at his face, not believing this conversation. He wondered why was he wasn’t more freaked out at this, and figured that immortality had to make you pretty open-minded. Still, this was surreal. But he didn’t know what else to call the creature he’d just faced. God! He’d thought vampires were just fiction!
"Are you alright?" asked Angel.
"Oh, yeah. I’ve-I’ve just killed a creature I thought only existed in Anne Rice books! I’m just swell!"
"You might be in shock. Listen, our office is near here, why don’t you come and rest for a while?" Angel offered, a bit awkwardly.
"Office? What do you guys do?"
"We’re kind of detectives, specialising in ‘strange’ cases. We, er, ‘help the helpless’", Doyle told him.
"Oh. Nice."
Richie shrugged and gestured at Doyle to lead the way, figuring that if these guys were going to kill him they would have done so by now. After beheading someone who didn’t produce a nice light show after loosing his head, he figured that he at least deserved a beer.
"So", he began conversationally, as they rounded the corner, "do you guys know anywhere cheap where I could stay for a few days?"
Chapter Two:
Richie followed Angel and Doyle back to the office. Angel was still deep in thoughtful-and-brooding mode; Doyle was trying to make small talk; and Richie was still wondering what he’d gotten himself into and hoping that his bike wouldn’t get towed away. Not surprisingly, Cordelia was still at the office, trying to come up with some research that might spread some light on the sword-wielding demon, or whatever. Doyle and Angel had gone out to patrol the neighbourhood, and she certainly wasn’t expecting them to bring back a visitor. She was pleased to note, though, that said visitor didn’t seem to need to a special invitation to enter the building.
"Hi, guys", she greeted, putting down her books.
"Hey, Cordy".
"Hi, Cordelia. Did you find anything?" asked Angel.
She shrugged.
"A few references to ritual sword fights, ending with beheadings; unsolved police cases. Could be something". Angel nodded and went to look at her notes.
"Can I get you a beer, Richie?" Doyle asked after a moment, heading for the fridge.
"Sure. Thanks". Not sure what to do with himself, Richie had finally settled on taking a look at the office he’d been brought to.
"I, er, like what you’ve done with the place".
Cordelia looked quizically at Doyle as he past her, hoping for some information as to what was going on, but he just shook his head at her. She got up to follow him, but it was then that Richie noticed her.
"Hi, I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Richie…Richie Ryan".
"Hi. Cordelia Chase", she replied politely.
"So", he began, giving her the patented Ryan grin, "what’s a gorgeous girl like you doing in a place like this".
"Ah, well, I’m an actress…"
"Oh, method acting?" he asked,
raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. My next part is about a secretary in a detective office who works for a vampire, a short Irishman, and TPTB".
"Who?!"
"Oh, never mind. I’ve obviously been working too hard. Oh look, here’s Doyle with some beer. That makes a change".
"Hey, Cordy, I see you met Richie", Doyle commented, handing Richie a bottle of beer.
"We were just…getting to know each other", Richie replied, grinning at Cordelia, who blushed lightly. He was quite cute, in a boyish way, she admitted. Still, what she really wanted was to know was what was going on. Angel, still deeply buried in his books, was being absolutely no help.
"Doyle, a word, please. Richie, excuse us". Cordelia dragged Doyle out of the room, into the kitchen, determined to get some answers.
"20-something guy, curly, red hair…I’m guessing this isn’t a co-incidence".
"You’d be guessing right, princess. It was Richie I saw in the vision. We came across him while out on patrol. After he beheaded a vamp, Angel decided he was worth keeping an eye on".
"After he what?!"
"This vampire was coming for him, and Richie whips out a sword and after a minute, swish, whack, nice pile of ash on the ground".
"A sword. Like the one his killer has?"
"No. A different kind of sword. One that only works on vampires! Of course, one like the killer has. Something funny’s going on here, and Angel determined to get to the bottom of it. Even if Richie does have a sword, he obviously doesn’t succeed in defending himself against this guy. He had nowhere to stay, either, so…"
"So, he’s here. Doyle, the guy a total stranger! We don’t know a thing about him."
"Cordy, he’s alright. He’s from Seacouver. Drove up on his bike just to see LA for a few days. Works as a manager in a friend’s martial arts dojo."
"And carries a sword!"
"Cordy, relax. He’s a nice guy. The sword thing is…strange, I admit. But, if the powers want us to help him. Plus Angel’s determined to find out what’s going on."
"And, neither of you thought to ask him? Men!"
"It’s not that simple".
"Sure it is. I’ll ask him. Besides I think he likes me."
"Fine. You do that. Just…just don’t come crying to me if he fobs you off with some stupid, obviously untrue, answer", Doyle snapped.
"I know about keeping secrets", he continued quietly, as Cordelia flounced out of the room, ignoring him.
Smiling sweetly at Richie as she re-entered the room, Cordelia went to sit next to the young man.
"So, Richie. Doyle says you’re from Seacouver… I’ve never been there. Nice place?"
"Yeah, it’s ok…"
"You work in some gym…place?"
"Er, yeah. It’s a dojo. My friend Mac owns it. It’s mainly martial arts, classes and stuff. But there’s also gym equipment", Richie replied, laughing.
"I bet you work out loads", Cordelia purred, with a perfectly straight face. At this even Angel looked up, raising his eyebrows. He hadn’t known that Cordy was that good at this. He wondered exactly what Doyle had told her about Richie. What did she want from the boy? He caught Doyle’s eye. The Irishman was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Cordy. He gave Angel a small shrug, and a look that said ‘don’t blame me’.
Surprisingly Richie managed to meet Cordelia’s eye with only a faint blush on his face.
"Actually, I do", he replied, "But I bet you say that to all the guys".
"Not all of them", she pouted. Richie just laughed good-naturedly.
"So, what’s this about you and a big, long sword?"
This time Richie did have to clear his suddenly-dry throat before replying.
Doyle narrowed his eyes as he watched Cordy, and Angel could tell he thought she was going too far. It was very obvious, to Angel at least, that Doyle was just a little in love with Cordelia. It was also just as obvious that Cordelia thought of Doyle as just a friend.
"My-my sword?"
"Yeah, why do you carry a sword with you?"
"Oh. I, er, I have a fencing competition next month. I need to practice all the time."
"And you just decided to use it on that vampire? Good fencing skills."
"Um, just lucky I guess".
"You sure were".
"I could…I could show you some moves some time if you like", Richie offered.
"Sure", Cordelia breathed. Well, he was cute. Very cute, in fact. And he knew about the vampires.
"Oh, please! Get a room, will you!" Doyle snarled at them, destroying the moment, and storming past them and out of the offices. Cordelia looked toAngel.
"He’ll be alright. He’s just jealous. You know how he feels about you".
"Well, I wasn’t sure. I mean he always jokes about it…"
"Yeah, well, don’t worry about it. He knows you don’t feel the same. He’ll be alright. Give him time."
"I’m sorry…"
"It’s not your fault Richie".
"He won’t do anything stupid".
"Well, this is Doyle we’ll talking about".
Richie just stared at her.
"No, seriously, he’s fine. Probably just getting drunk somewhere".
Richie nodded, thoughtful. There had been something bothering him about Doyle since he’d first met him. He still wasn’t absolutely sure, but was fairly certain now. Doyle was pre-immortal. And, he was wandering around nightime LA on his own, probably soon to be drunk. He doubted it was the first time the man had done that, but Richie had a bad feeling about this. If Doyle died, he really should be there to help.
"Oh, man", he moaned, as all this went through his mind. He jumped up, grabbing his jacket.
"I have to find him", he announced, rushing out. Cordelia just stared after him, her mouth open. Angel just shook his head, the mystery deepening.