Date: Sun, 18 Feb 1996 20:02:00 PST Reply-To: Mike Goldman Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Mike Goldman Subject: Counterfeit Friends (7/22)--HL Story BTW: last romance scene warning for awhile. Duncan rubbed his thumb along an oily stain on the dark red tablecloth, then looked at her for a long moment. "If I had to." Rory leaned back in her chair again. "You've tried that once before, too." She grinned, but without humor. "I'm still here, Macleod." "Are you going to answer the question?" "No, Macleod, for your information, I am *not* with the IRA any longer. I had left shortly before I met Kieran." Duncan visibly relaxed. "I'm glad to hear that." "Why?" she asked. "Because that means we can be friends." He put out his hand. Rory waited a beat and then shook it, this time smiling genuinely. Just then the waiter arrived with their food and, in between bites of food with sauce so hot it made their noses run, they talked about inconsequential things and Duncan told Rory about how he'd met Richie. They finished and drove back to the dojo in companiable silence. As they parted company, Duncan mentioned he and Richie would probably stop by Joe's again that night. Rory spent the rest of the day doing small errands, including buying an answering machine, and made it to Joe's about an hour before the band was scheduled. She threw Joe a quick smile, threaded her way through the crowd, and dashed upstairs to change. Duncan and Richie arrived about fifteen minutes later. Joe was whistling as he wiped down the bar, but stopped to greet his friends. "Evening, gents." he smiled. "What can I get for you?" Richie looked Joe up and down. "How about whatever you've been having?" "Would you settle for beer?" Joe asked, pushing two glasses across the counter. "You're positively effervescent, Joe." Duncan teased. "What's the cause?" Joe shrugged, still smiling. "Just a good day." He deflected the conversation to Richie. "You hooking up with Shane again?" Richie nodded. "Yeah, he wants to visit some American clubs and I told him I'd show him around." Joe and Duncan looked at each other. "*What?*" Richie whined, catching the look "Just remember that alcohol affects *him*, OK, smart guy?" said Duncan. Joe was saved any further conversational attempts by the hoots and hollers of the crowd acknowledging the presence of the band. He tried to watch what he could of the performance, but he and Mike, his assistant bartender, were kept busy with the orders of the crowd. A little past midnight, he signaled to the band to announce last call. Rory did so and picked up an acoustic guitar for the last song. As people alternately listened and began to gather their things, she sang: I am a river with a voice I came into your life by choice And none can judge the way that feels You are a messenger from God You are the angel I forgot And none can say it isn't real.* She finished the song to loud applause and the bar began to empty out. The band picked up their things and Rory again told them she would finish up. Richie had long since left with Shane and Joe had told Mike to go ahead and take off. Duncan himself had found someone with whom he wished to continue the evening and, as he and his companion walked outside with Joe and Rory, he bade them goodnight. "Want a ride?" Joe said, looking sideways at Rory. "You think I'm going to refuse?" They left the parking lot and Joe turned left instead of right at the first corner. "Where are we going?" Rory asked. "If you don't mind, I thought you might like to see where *I* live." "Lay on, MacDuff." Joe lived a scant 15 minutes away from his club and shortly they were pulling up a short driveway overhung with old oak trees. He continued up the driveway and stopped in front of a two-story Victorian. "Wow." said Rory, looking up at the house as she got out of the Forerunner. "This is a nice place." He led her up the walk and unlocked the front door, ushering her inside. Her cowboy boots echoed on the hardwood floor of the entryway as she entered and turned herself slowly in a circle, taking it all in. To the left of the entryway was a door that opened on a oak-paneled room Joe referred to as his study. The bookshelves were filled to overflowing not only with Watcher Chronicles, but also novels and texts regarding various historical periods. The desk, what could be seen of it underneath books and paper, also had a computer sitting on top of it. The leather chair was rolled slightly away. Straight ahead was the slightly sunken living room. Stepping down, Rory walked over and inspected the Martin acoustic guitar sitting in its stand along with the myriads of CD's and the stereo system. "Very nice." she commented. Joe made his way across the living room and directed her to the couch in front of the fireplace where he lit the wood that he'd placed in there before he'd left that evening. They sat down on the couch, his arm around her, and stared into the fire for a while, enjoying each other's company. After a while, Rory roused herself. "Joe?" "Yeah?" Not satisfied, Rory poked him in the ribs and he started. Satisfied she had his attention, she continued. "How much is in your Chronicles about me?" "Why do you want to know?" "Well, a girl doesn't want a man to know *everything* about her at once." she joked. "Seriously, it does feel a little odd to know you could probably tell me what I had for breakfast 500 years ago, but I'm still learning about you." "Actually, there's not all that much - you were rather hard to keep track of for some reason." Joe said. "We know you were born in County Wexford, Ireland in 1317 and your Immortality began somewhere around 1346, but as far as what you did on a daily basis, we don't have nearly as comprehensive a history of you as we do of Macleod, for example. Satisfied?" "Yes. Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek. "It just takes a little getting used to, you know -- that mortals have been observing us for years without our knowing about it." Joe nodded. He'd had similar feelings when he'd realized that there had been Immortals living among mortals for hundreds of years. He shifted slightly to see Rory better. "I promise, " he said, "that, to me, you will always be Rory Malone, and not a subject for historical purposes." He leaned over to kiss her, but Rory dodged aside, reached over and took the phone off the hook. Joe looked at her in astonishment. "Just a precaution." she said. Later, when most of their clothing was in disarray, Joe murmured, "Shouldn't we go someplace a little more comfortable?" "Silly man." Rory whispered, pulling Joe on top of her, "Who needs a bed?" "Not me." was the last thing he said, before Rory made any further talking unnecessary. * = "The Wheel" -- Rosanne Cash =========================================================================