Date: Thu, 13 Oct 1994 08:51:16 EDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Brian Macleod Subject: Behind Blue Eyes, part 4 (just a reminder, this story takes place in between season 2 and 3 of the TV series!!)**************************************************************** *************************H I G H L A N D E R***************************** *****************B E H I N D B L U E E Y E S********************* ************************************************************************* BY BRIAN PROCOPIO, BASED ON THE FILM OF THE SAME NAME. COPYRIGHT 1994 CHAOS PICTURES, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Duncan, what do you mean, 'Darius is dead!?!?' " interrorgated Brian. Connor got up forcefully from his chair and strided over to the bay windows looking out onto the New York skyline as the last rays of the glowing sun slipped beneath the horizon of night, their illuminance reflecting in the moisture welling up in his eyes. "how" he muttered. "What compelled Darius to leave holy ground? You know that he'd become a massive target for every two-bit immortal out there!" commented MacKenzie. "No," stated Duncan. "He was killed on holy ground. By mortals." Connor spun around at his words, his anger at the whole situation evident in his face. "The Watchers," realized Brian, "right?" The look on Connor's face passed from fury to confusion. "No, the Hunters. Like the Watchers. An evil offshoot of them, to be precise. They almost killed me and Fitz soon after. I've got alot to owe them..." he paused momentarily, remembering certain things, certain people... "yes. An awful lot to owe them indeed. Horton's gone now. I just don't think they are." Finally Connor interjected, "what the hell are you talking about, kinsman? Watchers, Hunters, what is this all about?" As Connor and Duncan began to sort things out, Brian moved over to the stair- well and joined Ritchie sitting there. "Why didn't you tell me about Darius, Ritchie?" "I'm sorry, Bri, I just..." Ritchie looked lost as he searched for words, "I just thought you'd KNOW or something. I figured that if you knew Darius you would have found out about his death somehow, some sort of buzz that he was gone or something. I figured that you didn't know about the Watchers and all when I showed up, but just assumed you'd know about Darius as well." "Hey, it's allright, Ritchie, these things happen. It's just that with the Gathering at hand... ah, hell. No immortal should loose his head like that, especially not Darius," he stopped, lost in his own recollections for a moment, then brightened a bit as he changed topics. " So, where did you end up after we last parted?" "Ever meet Gregor?" Ritche questioned. "Meet him, why, we're like brothers practically! What, you mean he never mentioned me?" Brian grinned. He looked towards the Macleod swordsmen then glanced back at Ritchie. "C'mon," he said, "these guys have alot to discuss, let's go grab a bite to eat." As they got up he announced loudly "Munchie run!! Who wants what?!?!?" Neither of the kinsmen acknowledged his statement. He shrugged to Ritchie, "Hmmff, some things never change, you know?" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> "Yeah. I understand. Uh-huh. Ok, hold on," Macleod rested the reciever of the telephone against his shoulder as he called outside to MacKenzie, who was just finishing his cool-down stretches. "HEY, MAC!" he hollered. "Yeah?" "Want to have dinner with me and Lisa tonight. Eightish, her place?" yelled Dave. "Sure," commented MacKenzie as he walked into the kitchen, toweling the sweat from his forehead. "I'll show you that other neat trick we immortals can do, the ability to steal another immortal's girlfriend away at a thought!" Macleod threw a loaf of bread at MacKenzie's retreating back. "I'll get my cousins after you if you even attempt it, Mac!!!" _______________________________________________________________________________ "Forever young, I want to be forever young... Do you really want to live forever, forever, forever?..." the music poured softly from the speakers of the stereo. The dimly lit apartment was sparsely furnished, but a certain degree of comfort existed. Brian sipped at the glass of scotch in his hand. It was ok, he decided, for a mass- produced, watered-down replica of the real thing. He put it down once more and let the music flow around him. "Oh man, Alphaville, 'Forever Young.' THE ultimate in eighties one-hit wonders," commented Dave, sitting with Lisa on the functional yet stylish couch across from Bri's chair. "Hmmm, what about 'I Ran.' Flock of Seagulls," interjected Lisa, coming out of her sleepy, half-dozing state they were all in after the meal. "Wait, I got one, Handel's 'Third Symphony', played first in Londo---" Bri was cut short by the bewildered stares meeting his opinion. Dave realized Bri's error first, groaning miserably. Slowly but surely understanding dawned in Bri's mind. "OH!! NINETEEN-Eighties one-hit wonders!! Ah, sorry, my fault, wrong century and all..." <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< The collected threesome erupted in laughter. "No wait, wait, it gets better, really!!" continued Connor. "Then I APOLOGIZED to him to get him to stop running me through; 'I'm sorry for calling your wife a bloated warthog!!' ah really, it was just too much for Castigue, he lost it at this point." For the third time the usher came around to their box with complaints from the other patrons. "The constabulary has been called out, good sir, and I beseech you, if only because of your generous financial donation, to please exit now before they arrive." Duncan, for the third time tonight, handed the man a small sack of money, missing the man's proferred hand twice before docking the two together. "C'mon," he chuckled, woozily getting to his feet. "Uuuppp! you go, Connor! You too, Bri!" The threesome began the arduous trek down the stairs to the main theater lobby below. Half way down Brian stumbled and began his less than graceful flight down the stairwell, catching half a dozen patrons enroute, snapping several bones, and somehow ending up with a young woman on top of him by the time he hit rock bottom. "Well, you coming or what?" he yelled up to his waiting party. "May I?" asked Duncan, holding out his hands. "I thought you'd never ask!!" returned Connor as he grabbed the proferred extremities and led his dancing partner off of the step. The two kinsmen giggled in drunken stupor as they repeated their younger colleagues per- formance, the three of them ending up laid out at the bottom of the stairs within several seconds, rolling on the ground laughing as their bodies attempted to reverse the damage of the fall. The trio rushed out into the chilly Febuary night, their new acquaintances virtually being dragged behind. ------------------------------------------ Several hours later the threesome walked along the streets aimlessly, the gas lights along the street casting flickering shadows along the ground before them. "So," Duncan broke the silence, "I guess we're parting again, aren't we?" "It's the way of things," the eldest of the three commented. "Where are you each headed?" questioned MacKenzie. "Back to New York, yet again," commented Connor. "I may head to Paris, actually, it's been awhile," reflected Duncan. "The war, wasn't it?" asked MacKenzie. "Or soon after, as it were." "Aye. I think that the whole beheading craze has calmed down a bit there, it should be safe to travel back again," continued Duncan. "How bout yourself, Brian?" asked Connor. "I'm not sure. I think I've gotten that acting bug again. It's been a few decades since I've taken the stage and all... Who knows. I may try Europe myself, don't be surprised if I show up anytime soon, Duncan." "We're blood brothers, remember that, MacKenzie. You'll always be a welcome guest at my door," remarked the younger Macleod. "Well let's keep in touch as to where we all are from now on, we shouldn't have to go eighty years in between meetings and such you know," stated MacKenzie as the trio stopped along the walkway overlooking the Thames. They stood there in silence, each thinking the unsayable, 'hope I'll see you alive and well in a few decades, watch your neck.' After awhile Connor silently wandered off, followed by Duncan a short time later. Brian stood by the river long into the dark cold night... >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> _______________________________________________________________________________ So ends this chapter, see you all in part five later! E-mail with comments (no, really, I mean it!) Macleod@vm.temple.edu =========================================================================