Date: Mon, 25 Jul 1994 23:02:12 EDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Hobert@AOL.COM Subject: CIRCLES, Part 2 of 5 (1/2) *This is a continuation of events begun in CHANGES, previously posted to HLFIC-L CIRCLES by Kevin H. Robnett Part Two - Gregor Pavalovich, Russian peasant - - - - - Saturday, May 13, 2000 - - - - - "So, anyway, I'm standing in the spare bedroom, praying nobody decides to bring in a coat, when Tessa starts setting huge platters of food around," Dawson continued to his hysterical audience, Richie and Amanda. "Then people start showing up, they're hanging banners and balloons, and I realize I'm trapped at a surprise birthday party for Duncan." Richie and Amanda could barely contain their laughter at the mental picture of the Watcher hiding in a bedroom. "How did you ever get out of there?" Amanda asked between gulps of breath. "When Tessa lit the hundreds of candles on the cake, the smoke alarms went off," Dawson told the laughing duo, "and apparently someone called the fire department. In the confusion, I slipped out with the guests." Again gales of laughter rung in the air. By the time they had calmed down, and munched on several sandwiches, Duncan arrived, setting off another round of snickering. Hair still dripping water, he eyed the group, then unceremoniously started shaking his head, sending water flying. "I hope you saved some for me," he said, eying the shrinking pile of food. Just then, the elevator gave a decrepit wheeze and started down. As it started up, the three Immortals exchanged glances. "Either Connor or Greg." Richie stated. Soon, the elevator ground to a stop. "Halt, and be recognized," he yelled up to the landing. "Recognize this, bud. If you want food, you better come up here and give me a hand," Gregor yelled down. In seconds Richie had raced up the stairs and rushed to open the metal gate, taking one of the bags from the overloaded Gregor. "Let me guess," he said privately to Richie, "Duncan and Amanda?" "And Dawson," Richie quietly added, grabbing another bag as Gregor dropped it. "Which means you have a roommate tonight. Me." "No thanks. You snore too much, pal. I'll sleep with the voyeur," Gregor said as they climbed down the stairs. "Why's he here, anyway?" Richie turned to the kitchen area, freshly mopped but still a little damp. "I invited him, dolt." "I know that," Gregor snorted, setting his bags on the counter. "Why did he accept? After Jeremiah, I thought he'd stay far away." "He knows a good deal when he sees one," Richie said, grabbing the food items as Gregor tossed them to him. One by one he placed them in the cabinets. "I guess you need to call Antonio's and add one to our party tonight." He stopped as he saw Gregor's worried look. "What?" "You don't think he blames us, do you? For Jeremiah's death?" Gregor asked, playing with the loaf of bread still on the counter. Concern twisted his usually sarcastic visage. Richie sighed and leaned in the counter corner. "I think he blames himself for not telling Jerry the truth about us. Jerry wouldn't have sacrificed himself for people who couldn't die." "We should have told him ourselves," Gregor countered. "And how many mortals have you told in the last thousand years? One? Maybe two? Besides, he'd stopped watching us years ago." Richie looked around the counter and grabbed a plastic wrapped Twinkie, tossing it to Gregor. "Here, bite this. That's what Jerry would say." In a single motion, Gregor had unwrapped the yellow cake and stuffed... < < < < < Saturday, March 22, 1997 < < < < < ...the whole thing in Gregor's mouth. Laying on the main level, head hanging over the sunken sofa, the photographer was in no position to stop him. "Now that the peanut gallery is silenced, I'll try to finish," Jeremiah said, sitting next to the upside down head. "So Dr. Mauler requested me, the Royal Museum forked over the dough, and I agreed to go to Greece." Richie, on the other sofa, just stared at his hands. Gregor made muffled noises around the Twinkie in his mouth. "Yes, dolt," Jeremiah said, tousling Gregor's black hair, "you can have my room while I'm away. Someone needs to keep an eye on Sir Galahad over there." Gregor's eyes grew wide and he tried hard not to choke on the pastry in his mouth. He was laughing so hard, tears were running up his face. "Oh, bite it and shut up!" Jeremiah ordered. Richie got up and walked to the panoramic windows looking over New York. Hands in his pockets, he contemplated what he wanted to say. Jeremiah walked up behind him and rested his chin on Richie's shoulder. They watched the sun set in silence, until Jeremiah spoke. "Say something, my friend. You're usually not this quiet." "If I yelled, would you stay?" Richie asked. Nothing. "Didn't think so. I understand, I really do. You're an archeologist, and you definitely belong in the field. Besides, I'm not old enough to be interesting to you yet." /Some of us are./ [Oui!] *But it ain't the end of the world, honey* "Hey, Red. It's only for two years. And it's not like I'm miles from civilization. You have a computer, I have a laptop. I'm a keystroke away." Jeremiah said, trying to find words to console his friend. "Say, try and weasel a trip to Greece out of Connor. He doesn't have to be the only one spanning the globe. And I'll always be back in the States now and then." "GROUP HUG" Gregor yelled as he tackled them, wrapping his arms around the other two, squeezing with all his might. Jeremiah laughed, and Richie had a grin on his face as they all tumbled to the floor... =========================================================================