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**Just one of those days

Chapter 2**

It's one of those things about blood loss combined with head trauma. Apart from the major hangover symptoms, the nausea and the dizziness, there's the hallucinations.

Over the years, having been through a few scraps and more, I'd experienced various combinations of the above in one form or another.

Today was definitely the “other".

Feeling my scalp gingerly, I probed the seeping wound, a sharp pain triggering from my exploration, and I blinked a few times to clear my watering eyes.

Nope. Didn't help.

It was still lying there, tired up and staring at me with big, wide and worried eyes.

Alright. Perhaps I needed to try and analyse things more cautiously, in my condition.

Sure, my knowledge of mythical creatures was somewhat limited. You didn't tend to encounter them very often when breaking and entering, so dad didn't consider it a specifically necessary part of my education.

Perhaps in this he was mistaken, for a rare change.

Certainly the dragon didn't fit with anything I did know about the species. My understanding was they were really big, generally red or black, ornery as a bitch in heat, and dumb as two timber planks nailed together.

Big, nasty and stupid wasn't an especially positive combination for one's general health, so they were usually avoided like the plague. Thankfully, in return, they tended to keep to themselves (or at least away from areas where they were likely to encounter opposition to their presence), and their constant infighting had their numbers dwindled to the point of extinction.

The one in front of me, trussed up like a sheep wrangler's nightmare, didn't fit any form I'd ever heard of. Firstly, it was small, although small for a dragon was relative. About the body size of a small Shetland pony, it wasn't that much larger than I was, and hardly imposing. Admittedly, trussed up like that no-one would be especially dominating, but still, it wasn't something one would like to suddenly meet in a dark dungeon after being tortured excessively, and with a head feeling like it was ready to explode.

Its body was covered in fine silver scales; much finer than the hide I'd seen tacked on display in the main hallway of the Explorer's Guild headquarters, when I'd taken a moment to examine it after relieving them one night of some more interesting baubles they obviously didn't need.

That thing was huge, taking up one side of a two story wall. With solid scales on the back, plates like shields overlapping and over an inch thick each, it was heavy and armoured. Even the softer belly plates were arrow proof, although likely to wield to a well-placed and equally well sharpened crossbow bolt. On top of everything, it was covered in hooks and horns along the spine, wickedly sharp as I found to my chagrin after cutting myself testing one.

The skeleton on display on the floor before it, mate to the wall hanging, was equally impressive. I could have climbed through the mouth with only a minimal hunch, although I refrained from doing so given the wicked sharp teeth looked as deadly as the spine horns, and my aforementioned brush with blood loss.

It was a scary bastard of a thing, and certainly something I'd try avoiding at all costs in reality.

Still, given my suburban occupation, it wasn't something I'd ever expect to encounter, so doing just that while standing naked and bloody in a filthy criminal's dungeon lair was something that had me taken aback more than a little.

Not that this particular specimen was remotely that impressive. Apart from the runty size, relative speaking, the scales on the thing were much less marked, softer and more like a snake skin than what I'd seen in the museum. Sure, the back plates were larger, but flexed much more when it moved, which it seemed to be doing a little frantically as it stared at me. The horns on its head were no more than a foot long, and while sharp looking, the talons it sported were no bigger than my pig sticker knife. Its dorsal ridges were more blunted than spines, and even the tail didn't possess the hard spikes of its larger cousin, ending in a tapered, rounded tip. The claws still looked dangerous, however, rears being substantially larger than the front legs, which looked more like arms than real feet, less muscled and clearly more dextrous.

It was hard judging the things wing span, with them tied so tightly against its side, but maybe four to six meters might be close.

It was also watching me in what appeared abject terror, struggling with bonds already cutting through the tough hide in an attempt to shuffle as far from me as it could.

I thought briefly about retrieving my gaffe, but discounted the thought. It'd be messy, and the thing looked frightened enough by my mighty, naked presence. Having it shit itself in the bargain probably would be overly antagonistic.

Plus, I couldn't see it doing much harm tied up like that. Certainly, like myself, it wasn't going anywhere in a hurry.

So, I decided to take a closer look at the thing, given the interest that Fat Bastard had taken in it. Not that I considered plans on chopping it up for body parts, but heck, perhaps it might be worth something sold as is, to the right bidder.

Getting up wasn't as easy as I assumed. My head felt like it was about to split apart, migraine sending sparkling waves of photopsia through my vision. It was probably just stupid spending time wasting on the thing, given I was struggling with my injuries as is, but I suppose deep inside lurked a caring soul, wanting to escape and see if I could help the thing.

Or it might have been what remained of the bile in my stomach, as I dry retched a few times, while trying to hold in the nausea threatening to send me spinning.

Staggering forward, I came along side of it, as its muzzled head followed me, eyes huge and… watering? Damn, was the thing crying? Oh, come on!

Shaking off the anthromorphism, I dropped to a knee beside it, taking the risk to reach out a hand and lay it on the things neck. It was warm, which surprised me, as I'd assumed the thing was cold blooded, like a snake. The big, silver eyes shut, skin trembling beneath my touch, until after a long moment, it opened its eyes slowly, giving me a plaintiff stare.

Oh, alright, I thought, feeling sorry for it despite myself, as I muttered “Damn, what do I do with you? Wouldn't be fair leaving you tied up here, would it?"

It shook its head frantically at my utterance.

I think my mouth gaped open then, trying to have my fuzzy mind process what I just thought I saw.

“Did you just shake your head at me?" I muttered again, not expecting as response, but the thing began nodding violently.

Oh, shit! Alright then.

“You can understand me?"

Nod.

Hmm…

“I assume you didn't intend being here like this, huh?"

Violent head shake in the negatory.

Hmmm…..

All this thinking wasn't doing my addled brain any good, and I sat down on the floor next to it with a groan. Hell, what sort of choice did I have? Leaving it here was likely a death sentence, and more than anything, after my latest experience, wasn't something worth contemplating. Not that I could really have done much else, given the circumstance; a thief and assassin I might be, but I'm not a complete arsehole.

Nor was I completely naive, either.

“Alright then. I'm getting the weird, freaky feeling the 'you can understand me' vibe isn't simply trauma-induced imagination. So, I'm gonna cut you free, so we can both get out of here. But if you try anything dodgy, or come at me with those teeth or shit, I'll leave you so full of holes, you'll piss blood like a colander, joining those trio of meat over there, alright?"

The big eyes blinked, then its head nodded tentatively, laying down in exhaustion as I staggered back over to Fat Bastard's corpse, pulling the long knife free with a splattery slurp, and returning to the thing to carefully hack away at its bonds, while it lay there eyes tightly shut.

It took longer than expected, as they were pretty tight and I didn't want to slip and piss the thing off by cutting it. Plus, my vision had resumed its silly bugger effects, so by the time I released the last of its binding, stepping back cautiously with the blade raised in a shaking hand, it was all I could do to sit back and slid down the wall in exhaustion, rather than collapse in a heap at its feet.

The dragon had raised itself to squat awkwardly, rubbing its paws against its limbs to assist the blood flow, before groaning as it scratched through the raw skin of its wrists and neck, as well as along the length of its muzzle, where dried blood marred the silver skin.

Finally assured it was in one piece, it turned towards me, approaching alarmingly rapidly as I fumbled with the blade, dropping it with a clatter onto the floor as my head gave another painful throb and my exhaustion finally cut fully through my earlier adrenalin rush.

It paused then, looking down at the steel then back up at me, paws reaching down a moment towards it before freezing, claws clenching at the air uncertainly as it cocked its head and said, in a surprisingly normal pitched voice “Err, do you want me to get that for you?"

Not sure my jaw could have dropped even lower, I spluttered “You talk?" wincing at the dry look I received as I realised just how dumb and inane the comment was.

Instead, it stepped forward again, way too close for comfort, as its muzzle stopped a foot from my head, eyes exploring the scalp wound before returning the inane comment. “That looks really quite bad, you know. I think you should have someone look at it!"

Teeth jarring as my mouth shut with a snap, I gave the thing an astonished look, before a high pitched giggle slipped from my mouth, the note of hysteria obvious to both of us, until I clapped a hand over the offending orifice, mortified.

I attempted to recover my aplomb, replying with a nonchalance that covered the fact I was struggling to keep any grip on reality “Yeah, got tortured earlier. Wasn't as fun as I'd hoped. Now, I just plan on getting the hell out of here."

It sat back again, and asked in a worried voice. “You killed those three humans over there pretty thoroughly, you know." and I shrugged again, nodding. “Yeah, we had a falling out. They just fell further. Now, how about we get out of here, while I can still walk?"

It got up on its feet a damned sight faster than I did, waiting as I struggled upright to sway somewhat alarmingly.

“I think you really should get some help, there." It said again, and I swallowed my response to the master of the obvious. Instead, I staggered across the room to the far door, throwing it wide and leading the way up a narrow flight of stairs, the scuffing of the dragon's wings against the walls way too close as we paused at the top of the landing. Pressing my ear to the timber, I attempted to listen for further guards, when a noisy breath puffed right in my ear disturbed my concentration.

Turning angrily to find the things face inches from my own, I muttered “Do you mind? I'm trying to listen for other guards, and you're not helping!"

I swear, the thing shrugged. Even in the dim light I caught it!

Seriously, it did!

“How you can hear anything with those tiny little ears is beyond me. No one is out there! I knew that from half way up the stairs! I was just trying to determine why you were taking such a long time about it!"

Snarling, I glared at it, wrenching the door open and striding across the atrium to the nearest open door, which happened to exit through the chattel's large kitchen. The window above the stone sink revealed it still night outside; something that a part of me sighed in relief for. Daytime, the place would have been busy with household staff, and having a naked, blood covered thief and a silver dragon spring out at them may have been more than any of us could handle.

Dropping to a chair before the large preparation bench, I closed my eyes a moment, head in my hands, as I tried figuring out how to get off the grounds safely, and back home. Night it might be, but that didn't mean the route would be safe, and in my present condition, I was a sitting duck to any pick pocket or thief I encountered. Nor could I wait here, as the kitchen staff might turn up at any time, readying the place for the morning meal.

I threw up again as something shook my shoulder roughly, tossing my head back and forth before retreating rapidly as I hurled up what little stomach contents I had onto the scarred timber surface before me.

Strangely, the grip didn't loosen, but held me carefully until the nausea subsided somewhat, and I opened bleary eyes to discover the dragon giving me a worried look from way too close.

“You went to sleep there, you know" it said, cautious at my response, but when I just sighed, it continued. “It probably isn't a very good idea to do that here."

I tried for something witty and cutting, but it just wasn't in me.

“I know!" was all I managed, attempting to push the chair back and stand, but failing miserably at both.

“Shit!" I muttered to myself, collapsing back onto the table surface with a painful groan, a wave of disgust flowing through me as I realised I was again lying in my own vomit.

The steadying paw had remained, however, keeping my head back as the dragon wrinkled its muzzle at the stench. The paw was gentle, thankfully, and a small part of me appreciated the assistance, although I wouldn't have admitted it to it, or anyone.

When the nausea again subsided somewhat, it cocked its head and offered “I could go for help, if you like?"

My brain had difficulty processing the comment, but when it registered, a shrill laugh erupted from my sore throat. Help? Help from whom? The authorities? The Thieves Guild? Oh, that'd be rich, having a fucking dragon land on their doorstep looking for assistance for me. Talk about going from one bad situation, to another! They'd welcome any opportunity to bring me, and subsequently dad, down a peg or ten!

My hysteria froze a moment, as a wild thought cleared my mind, lucidity giving me a reprieve that had escaped me earlier.

Why not dad? Hell, if anyone could pull off a rescue…

With what strength I had remaining, I sat back straight and turned to my odd erstwhile rescuer, who returned my look nervously.

“OK." I decided, as the thing blinked, nodding tentatively. “This is what you're going to do, and you need to do exactly what I say. If you don't, you'll be dead, alright?"

The thing gave a start, but to give it credit, nodded again.

Before I blacked out again, this time more thoroughly, I watched it's swaying tail head out into the courtyard door, before a loud flap of wings sounded, the noise disappearing into the darkness as I laid my head back on the table, careless of the mess, and let myself drift into darkness.

___________________________________

Consciousness is a fickle thing. Sometimes, you regain it with a start. Other times, it just drifts around in an arty farty, time wasting wank fest until you begin doubting it's going to kick in or not.

Thankfully, as I wasn't in a mood for either, I woke slowly but distinctly, eyes fluttering open to regard the sombre face of my father standing over my bed, a worried frown lifting as I gave him a tentative smile, reaching out for an embrace that was cautiously returned.

“Thought I lost you, kiddo." He muttered into my hair, as vague memories of that night returned, quickly suppressed as I released him to drop back tiredly onto the soft, incredibly inviting mattress.

“Thought so too, dad. But how'd you get me out of there?"

Chuckling wryly, he dropped into a chair beside my bed, reaching out an arm to open the heavy curtains, letting in a bright beam of sunlight that had my eyes watering.

“With a great deal of panic, I assure you." He said, turning back to give me a warm smile. “You certainly do send the most intriguing messengers."

I didn't get his meaning, until with an abrupt lurch, more memories resurfaced.

“Fuck! Then it's really real?"

Chuckling, dad nodded. “Quite really real, I'm sure. He's waiting outside the room, you know. Has been there on and off the past few days, waiting to see how your recover."

Dropping back with a groan, I muttered. “Shit, yeah. I mean… Damn, I wasn't sure. I was pretty fucked up, I think."

The smile left his face abruptly, replaced with a darkness that even I shuddered at.

“Somewhat of an understatement, Cam. You were out nearly a week after we came out and recovered you. You have a serious head fracture, cheek fractures, and several ribs aren't healthy. You're cut up and bruised all over. Putting it bluntly, we nearly lost you."

Sighing, I gave him a tentative look. “You got the intel then, though, right?"

Nodding again, he sighed, leaning back to stretch his broad arms. “Yes, kiddo. For what it was worth, although it wasn't ever worth your life to retrieve it. Although now the fat prick is dead, some of it is somewhat superfluous. Still, overall we did benefit from it. However, that's a story for another day."

Shutting my eyes a moment, I opened them again to meet his stare.

“It was that sleazy bastard Sted, you know. He left me there after knocking me out. He…"

I paused, seeing his eyes harden again. I knew that look too well, and nearly gulped.

“When Sted returned with the papers alone, he gave a somewhat frank account of your actions. How you'd been caught before escaping, as well as a vivid description on how he valiantly returned with the papers, unable to recover you, risking himself mightily in the process. The greater reward he asked for was reflective of his achievement, he said, and having put his life on the line in such a risk endeavour, he asked for double the usual fee.

Goggling in incredulity, I gasped “You didn't give it to the bastard, did you?"

Smiling tightly, dad nodded. “Oh, he deserved his reward, alright. I gave him his hundred gold pieces, thanked him for his efforts, then nailed him to the front gate of the keep with a large iron spike through his chest. The guards tell me he kept shrieking an incredibly long time, apparently. It's just a shame he screamed constantly, instead of when people approached. Not much good as a door bell at all, the useless prick!"

Coldly, he stood, staring out the window. “I wasn't aware he left you there, Cam. But I wasn't about to let anyone live who was prepared to leave a member of my family behind on a mission like that. It's bad for business."

Even as experienced as I was, I shuddered inwardly at the chill tone of his voice. He might be my dad, but he was still a fucking seriously scary dude, for all that.

A thought hit me then, and I sat up abruptly, wincing at the pounding in my bandaged head.

“What about the dragon? You didn't hurt it… err, he… You didn't hurt him did you?"

You would never have believed that the eyes that turned to smile down at me had a moment earlier been pondering cold blooded murder.

“I will say the knock on the study window, leading to a balcony with a sheer drop twenty feet to the ground, had me somewhat startled. Thankfully, your password was still current, and he didn't get a chest full of steel for his troubles. You did startle me a little, Cam. Again, I've received some odd messengers in my days, but in this, you really excelled!"

Sighing, I dropped back to the pillows, relieved despite myself. “I didn't have much choice, dad. I wasn't getting out of there under my own power. I just… I dunno. He seemed kinda OK."

Chuckling suddenly, dad made his feet, bones cracking as he stretched again, reaching down to squeeze my shoulder comfortingly.

“Well, you should thank him yourself, I'd say. When you're ready for it, of course. At the moment, you look like something the keep cat barfed up. For now, you need undisturbed sleep. Just get better, alright?"

Shrugging, I gave him another hug, a sudden weariness engulfing me as I dropped back into a more restful sleep.

________________________________

It was the soft, quiet click of the door to my suite that woke me to instant alertness, long years of training kicking in as my eyes shot open. The squeak of the hinges, loud in the darkness, kicked what little drowsiness I retained from my mind as I slipped a hand to the bed head, reaching into the thin cavity carved into the headboard base to retrieve the long stiletto I kept there for special occasions like this, readying myself to repeal the threat now moving in odd shuffling steps across the bare timber floor towards me.

Not a very good assassin, I mused, curiousity overcoming alarm as the intruder approached the bed, pausing beside me as I tensed beneath the covers.

I don't know who was more surprised when I sprang upwards, wrapping the heavy bed coverings around the thick torso and riding it to the floor with a thud. A muffled cry cut off as I pressed the tip of the knife through the fabric to prick the skin beneath, as I hissed “Move and you're dead!"

Whomever it was didn't move, so they breathed a little longer.

My free hand grabbed the heavy fabric, throwing it aside to uncover the very large, very scared, silver dragon beneath.

Rolling my eyes, I groaned in disgust, rising to my feet to toss the long blade spinning to bury itself in a nearby timber support. The creature struggled to untangle itself from the fabric, finally escaping the clinging folds to look at me guiltily as I stood again naked before it, scowling with crossed arms in displeasure.

“Good way of getting yourself killed around here, dragon, sneaking up on people like that!" I muttered, turning from the creature to cross the room, flinging open the dresser door and rummaging through for some clothes.

From behind, the dragon stepped uncomfortably, head low as I ignored its presence, pushing legs into tights and pulling on a long tunic which I tied around my waist with a green sash.

It was then I realised I was feeling a lot better than I had earlier. My head had cleared a lot, the nauseating throbbing now just a dull roar, and the aches and pains were significantly muted. Indeed, in all, I was feeling pretty darned good.

Finally dressed, I sighed, turning back to the dragon and relented.

“Alright, I guess I owe you an apology or something. Thanks too, for getting me out of there alive."

Ears perked up at my words, it shuffled forward to squat uncertainly a few feet away as I continued.

“Still, a bit of privacy goes a long way too, you know."

Nodding, it raised its head level to my own and said “I'm sorry. It's just… they wouldn't tell me how you were, or if you'd woken up. They keep me in the room next door, you know, unless your father is about. But he said I couldn't see you too soon, and I'd have to wait. I didn't want to ask him again as he's, well…."

Stumbling over his words, I grinned dryly and assisted. “Scary? Frightening? Terrifying?"

I swear a smile quirked its muzzle as it shook its head. “I was going to say nice, but to be honest, more nice and scary and terrifying."

I laughed then, amused despite myself, given it was a pretty accurate description of dad at his best.

Stepping forward, I held out a hand to the dragon, which was taken up in a tentative paw.

“Well, thanks for the rescue. I'm Cam."

Grinning suddenly, sharp teeth flashing in the moonlight streaming into the room, it… no, he... replied in kind.

“I know, Cam. Your dad has told me a lot about you. I'm…"

The dragon let out a gurgling hiss.

Releasing his paw, I snorted. “Yeah, well that ain't gonna work for me, bucko. Sounds like a cross between a grunt and a fart. Do you have another name that I can actually pronounce without popping a rib, given their already tender state?"

Chuckling, it nodded. “Well, your father said the same, although he was a little more circumspect. We ended up choosing Argyros, which he said is the Greek word for…"

“Silver, yeah, I know…" I interrupted, rolling my eyes at my father's creativity. “Well, that's nearly as bad as 'grunty fart pig', so how about we shorten that to Argy?"

The dragon looked a little nervous. “Is that allowed?"

Grinning, I shrugged. “Well, the Name Police might come looking, but I think you'll be OK for the time being."

“Humans have name police?"

Sighing, I dropped into the lounge near the bay window, and thought “We really have some work to do on this one…"

Turns out grunty fart pig was an ambassador.

Part of a group of his people who had, in desperation, sent a small contingent of guards to accompany our silver friend here over the Death strike mountains (yeah, corny, but accurate) to approach the scary humans living there, and seek out help in their war against their bigger, dumber and much, much 'scarier than the humans' cousins.

It was a war they were losing quite admirably, apparently. Hell, if you're going to do something, do it properly, even if it's having your scaly butt handed to you regularly by your larger, dumber brethren.

His people weren't particularly war-like, which was the main problem. Quite sophisticated, technologically advanced, and not especially well equipped in the savage tooth and claw department, most of them thought thinking was better than fighting. Normally, that'd be fine, but when you have a hoard of huge dragons attempting to rip you a new one, somewhat unhelpful.

There was a limit to being a pacifist, apparently.

In return, their bigger adversaries tended to wipe the floor with them, stealing food and their populace.

To eat, apparently. Both the food and the populace. Cannibalism wasn't past the big, dumb brutes. Hell, they'd even eat each other, given any opportunity.

Great, I thought, as Argy continued his dialogue. We got the big scalies beating up the little scalies, who want the unscalies to help.

Good fucking luck with that, I snorted, but inwardly, not wanting to upset my new friend.

Who had wound down and was regarding me expectantly.

Sighing, I gave the dragon a long look, as he dropped down to curl up on the rug, eyes still fixated on me.

So, I hedged my bets.

“What did dad say about all this?" I asked, and Argy looked away.

“Umm, he said I probably had as much chance as a whore with the clap. I didn't quite understand what he meant, but I assume he has his doubts."

Doubts, my arse. A snowballs chance in hell, more like it!

“Alright then, why do the break and enter thing into my bedroom?"

Coughing, Argy turned away and muttered something I almost didn't catch.

Almost being the operative word, as I stormed to my feet, pushing past the startled dragon to march down the long hallway to my dad's private office, an alarmed silver dragon dogging my heels.

___________________________

Authors note:

Hands up who knew Argy was a dragon?

Rocko wavies hands madly!

So, a dragon, and a human, and.... well, a plot.

Plot before hanky panky, always.

Always!!!

Now, I am taking a bit of a different route with this story.

I'm a big Douglas Adams fan, from way back.

If you don't know who Douglas Adams then I'm really sorry, but you're a troglodyte, and I mean that in the nicest possible way.

I am also a huge fan of the Stainless Steel Rat series, by Harry Harrison.

I love the humour. I love the bastardiness of the characters.

I love the eddies in the space time continuum.

I love Slardibartfast, and the fact that "the late Dent, Arthur Dent is kind of a threat, you see, and he's not very good at them!"

I love the fact that the infinite improbability drive can send all the molecules in the hostesses undergarments a meter to the left during parties, just to break the ice!

I love that shit, yeah. Always have.

I've always wanted to write a story like that, primarily in the first person.

Plus, I always wanted, as a kid, to be Slippery Jim D'Griz.

Universe renown thief, general bad ass, and witty to boot.

It appeals to the anarchist in me.

And I won't even start on Red Dwarf.

I have a furry hat like Lister. I wear it occasionally.

It is very, very cool.

So, a comedy, written in the first person, and poorly edited to boot.

With as many mind fucking twists as I can throw in it, because you all know how mind fucked I really am :)

And I'm too lazy to ask someone to edit it for me.

Cause I'm lazy.