Date: Thu, 14 Dec 1995 17:34:34 -0800 Reply-To: Rachel Smith Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Rachel Smith Subject: Beginnings II 1/4 Beginnings II (Sequel to "Beginnings") by Rachel Smith PART 1/4 "I don't see why we had to move all the way out here," grumbled Kayla Chamberlin breathlessly as she lugged all her worldly possessions into her new home from the moving van they rented. "I mean, nobody *knows* I died." "Pierce did," her mom pointed out. Kayla rolled her eyes. "He doesn't count," she said stubbornly, refusing to see Hannah's point of view. "He could have killed me himself whenever he wanted to, but he didn't." "So?" "So he doesn't count. And he's dead, so I don't think he'll be coming after me any time soon. Oh why, why?" she lamented. "Why did we have to move? All my friends lived in Seacouver. Now where are we? Nowheresville, Canada!" Hannah tried to block out the noise her daughter was creating. *Why was it again, that I kept her?* she asked herself mentally. She drew in a deep breath willing herself not to lose her temper. "I'm sure there are plenty of kids your age around here. And don't forget, we're only about an hour from Toronto. Once you get your drivers license you can go up there on the weekends." Kayla shook her head. *Parents just don't understand.* With that thought, she dragged her suitcase and numerous boxes off to what would be her room, without saying anything else. She looked at the bare walls and the hardwood floors and the tiny closet. This was *not* cool. She started unpacking slowly. At the bottom of her bag was something she never expected to see. "Mom?" she called out. Hannah walked up the steps, hoping she wasn't going to be yelled at again. "What?" Kayla was holding out a sword. "Is this yours?" she asked almost fearfully. "Oh, I must have packed it in the wrong box. Sorry love," said her mother relieved, and she walked back downstairs with the saber to finish bringing the rest of the boxes in from the car. Kayla sat back down on the floor and thought about what had just happened. It was too weird. What kind of life was she in for? Swords and beheadings? The shocks of the past few weeks still haunted her. How could her mom be so casual about it? Then she started thinking. How many people had her mother killed? How old was she? The novelty of the idea of immortality was starting to wear off and reality was setting in. Fifteen forever: what a trip. Later that evening... Over dinner, Kayla was still wondering about her mother. She decided finally just to come out and say it. "Mom, how old are you?" Hannah raised her eyebrows. "How old do you think I am?" "I don't know, you never told me!" "You wouldn't have believed me," she said pointedly. "I will now." "Fine. I am just over 600 years old. I will be, uhh," she did some quick mental math. She hadn't thought about her age for a while. "About 608 on my next birthday." Kayla's eyes went really wide and she made an incoherent, awed sort of noise and dug decisively into her rice and chicken. Hannah looked at her daughter, concerned. "Do you want to talk about it?" Kayla shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "So what does that mean? You were 593 when you had me? Isn't that a little old for pregnancy?" Now Hannah looked surprised. "You didn't...know?" "Know what?" "We can't have children. We aren't even born. We just..." she hesitated, searching for the word. "We just *are*." "Then I'm not really your daughter!" said Kayla, scandalized. "We're not even related!" "Don't be ridiculous. I am your mother and all immortals are related in one way or another," Hannah replied, unusually sharply, thinking of the past. Kayla was pacified...but just a little. "Alright. I'm going to bed." "Now? It's only seven o'clock." "I'm tired." ---Seacouver, 1979--- Morning came late, with the sun taking it's bloody time rising from the east. Hannah dragged herself of the king size water bed knowing she had things to do. She looked at the clock to her far left and damn well near fell off the bed, craning her neck. *ELEVEN AM???* she thought hysterically. She had a job interview 2 hours ago. True, after nearly 600 years, she had accumulated enough to live comfortably for the next century or so, but with rising rates, inflation and a less then admirable nation debt, one could never be too careful with one's economic status. *Well,* she thought *I put it off this long, getting a job can wait another decade.* She wondered how she could have possibly slept that long, but put it out of her mind, thinking about what to do with the rest of the day since she was obviously not going to that job interview. Hannah went downstairs and started frying bacon in a pan. Meanwhile, she poured ready-made Bisquick onto the griddle for a wonderful Friday morning breakfast. She ate slowly, and read the paper as she ate. No news was good news as it would seem. After finishing her morning meal, she went out for a daily run. No matter how *out of the Game* she tried to be, someone could always find her, and she had to stay in shape. Hannah changed into something suitable, grabbed her water bottle and started out the door. After about 5 miles, she decided it was time to turn back. She jogged into the woods to take the scenic route. Lightning flashed, and the sky got dark all of the sudden. It seemed almost like a quickening, but not quite. The eye of the storm was centered just below the ridge where she was standing. Hannah half slid, half stumbled down the rocky edge into the valley where all the disturbance was. She felt another immortal and looked around carefully. *BAD time to be caught without a sword* she thought grimly. She finally noticed the other immortal, climbing down the other side of the ridge, apparantly trying to find the source of the storm as well. *What are the chances?* thought Hannah sardonically. She saw him look up suddenly, feeling her presense. "Hello there!" he shouted out. "I'm not looking for a fight." She sighed, relieved. "Neither am I," she said, making her way over to speak to him. "What brought you down here?" "Same as you probably, the quickening....by the way, I'm Philip. Philip Deville," and he kissed her hand. "Hannah Chamberlin...for now," she explained. He gave an understanding look. "I know what you mean." They stood rather awkwardly for a bit, until Philip broke the silence. "Was there someone else here? I could have sworn there was a quickening near by..." "No, I don't think it was a quickening. It seemed, oh, I don't know, different." He looked a little doubtful. "I guess. Then why don't we have a look around." "I don't see anything." They started off in different directions to find the source of the "quickening" which had died down during the course of their conversation. Hannah was startled by a baby's wail, that drew her attention to the weeds nearby. She couldn't believe her eyes. It was a baby. What was a baby doing in the middle of the woods? She looked at the baby again. There was something...odd about her. It was something Hannah just couldn't put her finger on. She called out to Philip. "Philip! Come here!" Philip came running. "What is it?" "This," she said picking up the baby. "What in the world is a baby doing in the middle of the woods?" he questioned. "My thoughts exactly," she said. She thought for a second. "I think I'm going to take her home, there is something weird about this." He gave her a kind smile. "OK, call me and tell me what happens." He pulled a business card out of his long trenchcoat. "Philip Deville, museum curator. Why am I not surprised? All of us seem to like to be near old things. Too much of ourselves in the past, I suppose...er...well, I'll call you then." "Sure, maybe I'll see you some other time." " 'Bye." They walked off, each towards the way they came. Hannah was having a bit of difficulty climbing back up the ridge, with a small child in her arms. She slipped down a little bit she ended up face to face with the newly made pre-immortal, and she realized what seemed so odd about the child. A small gasp escaped her lips. "Good God!" she whispered. --Suburb of Toronto, the present-- Hannah looked down at her watch. 9:30. She must have dozed off at the dinner table after Kayla went to bed. She picked up the dirty dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher without bothering to rinse first. It had been a tiring day, and they were sleepy from the long drive across the US and Canada. She started the dishwasher and was glad it was one of those silent ones. Her plans involved nothing beyond getting to bed NOW. Hannah looked at the starkly bare bedroom in her new home. The bed frame wasn't completely assembled yet, and since she'd insisted on doing it all herself, it probably wouldn't be assembled any time soon. She sighed, and flopped down on a matress. She didn't bother looking for her night clothes, knowing it was a hopeless venture with all those boxes. Finally she fell into a deep, blissful, dreamless sleep. END PART ONE comments/critisms: janier@ix.netcom.com janier1321@aol.com =========================================================================