Title: The Stranger and the Sword
Feedback: Please leave reviews, even if it's to say what I can do better – all critique is very much appreciated :)
Distribution: Please ask me first, give me full credit and please don't alter my work.
Author: Wolfi3 (Liane Stevenson)
Summary: Angel has a lot on his hands when a mysterious stranger is wandering the streets of LA chopping people's heads off. Can he, Wes and Cordi find and question him before Wolfram & Hart? Takes place in Season 1 after "Parting Gifts". My first fan fiction, please R&R. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from either of the shows and I don't pretend to.
A/N: Italic is thoughts and bold lettering is shouting
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1. Arrival
L.A's night sky was alive with the twinkling of lights, skyscraper, traffic and street combined making a light bluish haze. Its familiar nocturnal hustle and bustle could be heard from the outskirts of town, even if it was just a faint murmur. This was over-ridden though, by the occasional passing vehicle, a truck, a bike, a car.
A black T-Bird convertible rolled past the 'Welcome to Los Angeles' sign with it's top down, the wind blowing in its occupant's long, dark hair. A pair of square, frameless sunglasses hid his eyes and covered his identity. His facial features gave no hint to who he was either; they had remained stony all the way from the start of his journey in Paris.
The T-Bird slowed as it approached the night streets and finally came to a halt outside an old abandoned gym. The tall figure stepped out of the car, his long black trench coat flowing behind him. He reached into the back seat where his hand met a light-coloured backpack with a long, suspicious, shrouded object attached to the top of it.
He turned and entered the building, his heavy step gently padding over to the dusty rotten stairs and then up them, making them creak and moan as the old wood bent and shifted under his heavy boots. On reaching the top of the stairs he removed his glasses and flicked his head to the right, forcing his long, bound hair to make the same flicking motion.
His strong, tree-like arms pushed open the door to the next room. He walked in and threw his bag down onto a faded and battered old chair. Reaching for the long shrouded object, he unwrapped to cream cloth to reveal a blade, an authentic Japanese samurai blade.
Angel surveyed it with his piercing brown eyes; his gaze never breaking with it's for a second. Standing, ready to pounce or to run at the slightest sign of movement in his opponent. Its black beady eyes watched him in turn, its leg starting to move slightly. Angel swung his weapon high in air before slamming it on top of the creature, again, and again, and again.
"Angel." He looked up to see Cordelia's head peeping around the door to his Los Angeles office.
"The regular, non-demon type spider, is dead. You can stop having your manly-mouse fit or whatever now and put the Dentists newspaper down." She continued whilst walking into the room. Angel looked at the rolled up paper in his hand and then to her as she smirked at him.
"What? Oh this, well it was…evil. It's an…evil…spider" He said unconvincingly to her, running his fingers through the back of his short hair as he often did when he was nervous or embarrassed.
"Hmmmm….mmmmmm." Cordelia rolled her eyes, she didn't believe him for an instant, but thought it best not to damage his pride which he was trying so desperately to hold on to.
Angel smiled at her, trying to avoid her smirking gaze.