This is a crossover between Angel (set in Series 1) and Highlander (Series 2 or 3). If you are familiar with one programme and not the other, here's a quick run-down.
Angel - Angel 250-year-old vampire with a soul who lives in LA, working to solve people's problems in order to redeem himself against all the cruelty he's committed. Runs a detective agency together with Cordelia and Doyle, who gets visions from The Powers That Be as to who helps their help.
Highlander - The Highlander is Duncan MacLeod, born 400 years ago and Immortal. Doesn't age, his body heals all injuries and he can only die if his head is cut off. One problem, lots of other Immortals want his head so that they can win the Prize, the ultimate power of all Immortals. Richie Ryan is Duncan's student and also an Immortal.
Disclaimer: I own no-one. All characters and concepts are the property of various Powers That Be (You know who they!). I mean no harm and am making no money from this.
Feedback - Yes please. E-mail me at lajk24@hotmail.com, visit my web-site at www.the-word.freeservers.com, or at least write a quick review. Thanks. I hope you enjoy!
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 Seacouver. 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 ever 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 conversation. When he'd offered to help her practice her lines for a commercial she was shooting the next week, 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?"
Angel - Angel 250-year-old vampire with a soul who lives in LA, working to solve people's problems in order to redeem himself against all the cruelty he's committed. Runs a detective agency together with Cordelia and Doyle, who gets visions from The Powers That Be as to who helps their help.
Highlander - The Highlander is Duncan MacLeod, born 400 years ago and Immortal. Doesn't age, his body heals all injuries and he can only die if his head is cut off. One problem, lots of other Immortals want his head so that they can win the Prize, the ultimate power of all Immortals. Richie Ryan is Duncan's student and also an Immortal.
Disclaimer: I own no-one. All characters and concepts are the property of various Powers That Be (You know who they!). I mean no harm and am making no money from this.
Feedback - Yes please. E-mail me at lajk24@hotmail.com, visit my web-site at www.the-word.freeservers.com, or at least write a quick review. Thanks. I hope you enjoy!
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 Seacouver. 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 ever 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 conversation. When he'd offered to help her practice her lines for a commercial she was shooting the next week, 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?"