The Luckiest Girl In The World

After a very long layover, Our Heroes are in a truly delightful mood!

From:

Where Our Heroes can meet up with Our Heroine for what will likely be a touching reunion.

Put the carpet down, Dante.

From:

On the off-chance our intrepid heroes wanted to go anywhere else.

From:

Shut up I'm tired.

From:

"We're here," Dante said flatly, stepping out of the portal. "Almost thought it wasn't gonna happen at all."

Ugh, Portalocity. He felt like he had a hangover, and he hadn't even had the pleasure of being drunk for it first, because of that stupid universe without alcohol.

From:

"What, you didn't want to spend the next thirty years losing to me in Twenty Questions?" Anders teased, adjusting his staff warily against his back. "I was having fun."

He was miserable and wanted (not necessarily in this order) a burger; a beer; and a chance to shake Kathy by the shoulders until her teeth rattled.

From:

"I wasn't losing," Dante said immediately, pointing a warning finger at him. "I was definitely on top there."

He was not.

From:

Anders patted Dante on the shoulder in condescending comfort.

"Whatever you need to believe."

From:

"And I definitely had a head-up on you on I Spy," said Dante, giving him a (gentle, for his standards) shove back in retaliation for that pat. "And-- you know what, I never wanna play a stupid travel game again in my life."

From:

"We made it," Anders said grimly, as he pulled the restaurant door open. The trip through Los Angeles had been edifying for someone who had never been in such a large city before, but thankfully zombie-free. "Do you think she's here now?"

From:

"If she's not, we can ask around," Dante said. He was peering over Anders' head into the restaurant. "It's Kathy. She'll get hungry sooner rather than later."

From:

"I still say you cheated at I Spy," Anders said. (Not that he knew how cheating at I Spy was even possible.) "But me either. I swear, that was the longest day of my entire life."

From:

"Why does Portalocity even have layovers?" Dante asked. "I mean, portals - you'd think that's like, snap and you're there, right?"

God, he needed food, too. In fact, he was heading for a vending machine real fucking quick.

From:

"I have no idea," Anders admitted, following Dante to the vending machine. The food in the world they'd wasted the last day in hadn't exactly been appetizing. "Don't ask me how it works. I'm still not convinced light bulbs aren't magic."

From:

"It's just electricity, how--"

Dante paused in front of the vending machine and wriggled his fingers. "...Right, you do that magic," he said. He cast a look at Anders over his shoulder. "You guys never like, capture that spark magic in a bulb or something?"

From:

Anders shook his head. "A mage would need to stay near the bulb and keep lighting it back up," he said. "There are better ways to spend our time."

From:

"Ever tried filling up a battery?" Dante asked, rooting around his pocket for some change. "You want something?"

From:

"Here or at home?" Anders asked. "Here, yes. Nice trick in a pinch. We don't have batteries at home."

A beat as he leaned forward to see the vending machine's offerings. "Maybe. Do they have sour cream and onion chips?"

From:

"I know some people make batteries out of potatoes," Dante said, shrugging lightly.

Look, he wasn't a scientist or anything. Anders, with all of his magical education, seemed like he knew way more about stuff in general than he did.

He poked the plastic of the machine. "Yeah, looks like it," he said, shoving some coins into the machine and punching in the code.

From:

"That," Anders said, "sounds like a waste of a good potato."

Anders knew a lot about schools of magic. Not so much about technology.

"And thanks," he added, with a tired smile. "I'll pay you back."

From:

"No problem," Dante said, flashing him a quick, tired smile of his own. The bag of chips dropped down the machine, and he picked it up and practically shoved it at Anders.

"Now we gotta figure out where she went. Koreatown, probably."

From:

They were met inside by an older woman with ginger hair that was slowly losing the battle with gray, not matter how many times she tried to dye it. "Hello darlins," she said, giving them both a smile. She was tired, in the way that anyone who worked hard for a living was tired, but there was steel there, too. "Welcome to The Pickle Hut. Don't think I've seen you two here before. Y'all want a booth or a table? As you can see, you got your pick of the place."

The only other occupied tabled was a booth tucked way in the back, under a wheezing air conditioner. Four dark heads were bent over the table in a quiet conference with one another. None of them looked up at the guys' entrance.

From:

Anders took the chips, opened them, and popped a few into his mouth before offering the bag to Dante.

"It's a place to start," Anders agreed. "Maybe start with the restaurants."

From:

"Booth is fine," Anders said, squinting at the occupied booth to see if any of those dark heads looked familiar. "Thanks."

From: