Date: Wed, 29 Nov 1995 19:51:10 -0600 Reply-To: Samantha Anne Copeland Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Samantha Anne Copeland Subject: Daddy's Little Girl part 14/21 Daddy's Little Girl Samantha Copeland copelasa@vuse.vanderbilt.edu ******Part 14****** "I'm sorry, what did you say?" "I was just wondering if we'd lost you there for a moment, but I see that you have something on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?" "I was just thinking." "'Bout what?" "About this whole Immortal business. Trying to make some sense out of it. Wondering why some people don't die and others do." "Don't think about it too much, you'll make yourself crazy." "I kind of figured that, but I just can't help but wonder about it. Have you managed to make any sense of it?" "Not really. I know that somewhere in it is a plan, a purpose, I just don't know what it is. I don't think anyone really knows." "I don't guess anyone would know. It's just that one needs purpose to one's life, you know?" "I know, the best thing is to just take it one day at a time, and hope for the best." Richie broke into the conversation, "Aren't you just a little young to be philosophizing this?" Mac gave Richie a dirty look mainly because of his shallow observation. Chris responded, "I've always been a thinker, I never had a lot of friends. When I was growing up I was always a good head taller than the other kids. I got made fun of, they would make jokes about it, some of them were really cruel. Sometimes, they would ask me how many grades I had been held back since I was so much taller than everyone else. In high school, things were better, we had all grown up, but there were always a few that still acted like ten year olds. I never really felt like I could trust anyone. I had a lot of time left to myself, time that I took to think. I developed a reputation for being a little on the weird side, but at least I was finally left alone. When most of the other girls were reading the Sweet Valley books, I was reading some of the classics...," She stopped, making a realization, "Geez, there I go again, babbling on about nothing. Well, to make a long story shorter, I just never really fit in I was just left to my own devices, I had plenty of time for thinking so I did." "If it means something to you, it means something. You can't let what other people think rule your life, but you can't just ignore them either. You have to listen to what they say and weigh it against what your conscience tells you is right. You read some of the classics, was _Hamlet_ in there?" Chris nodded, "in _Hamlet_, Polonius gives a very wise piece of advice, 'to thine own self be true'. You can't let others live you life, you've only got one and you better do the best you can with it, because you never know when its going to be over. In the end your opinion is the only one that really means anything." "I realize that. Maybe with time I'll be able to do that, it's just going to take some time for adjustment." "Well you're going to have plenty of time, hopefully." "Me too." The conversation quickly drifted as Richie began to take a more active role in the conversation. They were all getting to know each other better, feeling more relaxed. Chris was actually enjoying herself, she felt as if for the first time in her life she was accepted for who she was right then, and not being judged for some sort of baggage. Not only that but there was a link between the three of them, they were all in the same boat. She had a few friends now, but she still didn't like getting real personal with any of them. With these two it was kind of different they each had secrets, one of which they all shared, they were Immortal. As they were leaving, they all froze in their tracks, they had all sensed the presence of another Immortal. Mac shoed Richie and Chris to the car while he went to investigate. He went down a nearby alley and the sensation grew stronger. He stopped. "Who's there?" Mac asked, already guessing at who it was. "Robert Alexander... I don't want you, whoever you are, where's the girl?" a low voice answered from the dark. "I am Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod. It doesn't matter where she is, I'm here now." A dark figure came out of the shadows. Mac could see the glimmer of a sword being drawn, he drew his own. The figure must have seen Mac's action for his advance quickened at that point. He took a swing at Mac which was promptly avoided. The aggressor made a few more swings, each being avoided or parried. Chris and Richie heard the sounds of swordplay and came to witness the fight. Chris watched with admiration for the skill Mac displayed. Richie watched with concern for his friend's life, no matter how good Mac was. The fight broke off however when the once distant sound of police sirens began to grow stronger. The two combatants parted going in opposite directions. "I thought I told you two to get in the car?" Mac asked slightly angry. "Well you know me Mac, I've never really been good at following orders." Richie promptly replied. "I expected this from you Rich, but you Chris?" "I wasn't going to be left by the car all by my lonesome," she said defensively, "Anyway, I wanted to see what would happen, sorry." "I'm not really mad, just a little surprised I guess. Well that's the end of the show for tonight. We better get going before someone sees us." They got into Mac's car and rode silently back to the dojo. When they got there they all went up to Mac's loft. "So who was that guy Mac?" Richie asked. "Robert Alexander, the guy that paid a visit to Chris the other night." "So is he any good?" Chris and Richie asked together. "He's fair, for him to have killed the number of people that Joe said he has, he must have some sort of trick up his sleeve. There is no way he could have taken some of the heads that he has without doing something else. Chris probably managed to get away simply because he didn't think he was going to need his ace, and so they met on equal ground. He obviously didn't expect her to know how to defend herself. He thought wrong." "I thought you said you only just met Chris last night, how did she?" Chris decided to take that question, "I happen to have been a serious competitive fencer for about three months. After my conversation with Mac last night, I was thanking my lucky stars that I was in fencing club and not marching band." "Oh, that's right! I forgot about the bag that you brought back from your place earlier." "Gee, you're even more forgetful than I am," she laughed. Richie looked as though he were going to use a comeback. "O.K. you two, cut the clowning. After this evening, I think that the best thing we can do is go out to the island tomorrow, we'll figure something out from there and buy a little time." "Island? He'll just follow us, that's not going to slow him down much." Chris remarked, thinking it just a little on the strange side. "The island is Holy Ground. Even if he did show up, he wouldn't be able to do any harm." Duncan explained. "So, where do we stay on this island?" "Mac's got a cabin there, it's really nice, just a little on the rustic side." He shot a glance at Mac, he didn't like to let opportunities to poke fun at Mac slip by. "Oh thanks Richie." "So this is going to be like camping out?" she questioned. "Yeah, I hope you don't mind, but it's the best I can do on short notice." "Actually it sounds like it'll be fun. I haven't camped out since I went to Philmont a couple of years ago." "Isn't that some sort of giant Boy Scout camp sort of a thing? What were you doing there?" "Well yeah, it is. Were you in the Boy Scouts or something?" "One of my foster fathers was a scout master. He liked to tell stories about his numerous trips there...... But you still haven't explained how you managed to go." "I went with my Explorer post. We did a thirty mile trek in ten days. I liked the camping part, but the hiking killed my knees. Every night we slept in tents except that last night. We were at Fish Camp, the fishing lodge. We got to sleep in one of the cabins, We were all nice, warm, and dry for the first time. We stayed up all night telling ghost stories and singing around the fire. The singing was really neat because one of our guides had brought a vagabond guitar." The conversation drifted to what supplies they would need to pick up. Richie decided to join them, he felt like he needed a vacation, at least a break where he didn't have to worry about having his sword within reach at all times. He decided that he would go back to his place and get his gear together and come back later. Mac told him about the airport pick-up and to let himself in if they still weren't back by the time he returned. Richie left to get his stuff together. Mac and Chris began rounding up Mac's camping gear, sleeping bag and the like. They left it in a heap near the elevator, ready to be loaded the next day. They left Mac's place to go to the airport even though it was just past nine. The reason was to swing past Chris's apartment. She had forgotten to pick up some clothes earlier but now needed to pick up what little gear that she had as well. She had a small tent, which she wouldn't be needing, two sleeping bags, one currently being used as a comforter, and a collapsible cot. They loaded the stuff into the trunk of Mac's car. She packed a small bag with a few changes of clothing. She also put in an old sweater, one that had a few un-fixable snags, a pair of jeans that had been messed up in chem lab, and remembering earlier, put in an old pair of high tops. Mac told her to pack something that she wouldn't mind getting torn up since in all likely hood, they were going be practicing while on the island. "Do you have everything?" "I think so, I'm just going to check my machine real quick." She looked at the display, one message. She played it back. "Hey Chris, this is Grace. I'll be available this evening till eleven, so if you want the check, just come over." "I probably ought to get that." "Fine." Since she lived in the next building, they walked over. When Grace answered the door she just stared blankly at Mac for a few moments before recovering her composure. "Hey Grace, I got your message... You can stop staring, he's not a cradle robbing boyfriend, just a friend of my dad's," she said with a laugh. "It's not that. Why don't you two come in." "Why not?.....Oh, Duncan MacLeod, Grace Dawson. Grace Duncan." Mac had noticed her reaction when she opened the door, the name explained it. He asked off hand, "Are you any relation to Joe Dawson?" "Yeah, he's my uncle. How do you know him?" she asked with obvious care. "It seems I am a sort of hobby of his." "What's going on?" Chris asked. "Do you remember what I said earlier about Joe?" Duncan asked. "Yeah, so." "Well it seem that Grace here is either one of them or at least knows about them," he turned to Grace, "May we see your wrists?" Seeing that Duncan obviously knew about the Watchers, she decided to just give in. She showed her tattoo. "Yeah, I know who and what you are Duncan MacLeod, but how do you figure into this Chris? You're not one of them." "Just how do you figure that?" "I remember the burn that you got when you doing some soldering." "That was over a month ago, things have changed. You might as well know, you would have likely found out anyway." "When?" "Halloween, when I wrecked my car." "Chris, I don't mean to be rude, but would you please go now?" Grace stated, instantly turning cold. "Why, what have I done?" "It's not your fault, it's because of some rules." "Rules, what rules?" "A Watcher and an Immortal can't be friends. End of story." Mac saw the pained expression on each of their faces, friendship torn apart because of something that couldn't be helped. He decided to offer what little help he could. "Grace, I have known your uncle for a year. In that time we have become friends. If you don't believe me, ask your uncle. I don't mean to belittle the Watchers, but that is a silly, rules shouldn't determine who your friends are. If we let rules determine who our friends are, then we are no better than the Nazis or segregation." Grace thought for a little while, and finally realized that MacLeod was right. Those rules were probably from an earlier time when there was a reason for it, a reason that was out of date. "Well I suppose that if Uncle Joe can have an Immortal friend, I can too. I suppose that things really do change, don't they?" "Some things do, others don't," Mac stated simply. "Hey Chris, with any luck I'll get assigned to you. What do you think of that?" "Oh, it's fine with me just so long as any personal conversations stay off the record." "Well if I put any in, I'd end up having to put my half in too, and I don't think it would look good." "Nice to know that," Chris looked at her watch, "Uh, we kind of need to get going, my dad's flight is coming in shortly and we're going to pick him up." "I'll see you around. Before you go, don't you want the check for the blade?" "You don't need to do that. You lent me your car so I didn't have to get a rental." "You drove it less that fifty miles, and filed the tank each time you used it, I think I owe you, now how much to replace that blade?" "The blade is going to cost a hundred dollars, but since we're friends and you insist, you owe me fifty." With that she wrote the check. Chris took the check and thanked her, secretly balling it up in her pocket, as she decided not to cash it. Chris and Mac went to the door to leave. Mac left first and headed down to the sidewalk, Chris was leaving slowly, thinking how weird this was getting. As she walked toward the street, she turned to look back at her friend. She was still standing at the door. She waved. "Hey Chris, watch your head!" She called out. "I'll do my best!" Chris replied, a wry smile crossing her face briefly Chris walked faster to catch up with Mac, her long legs made quick work of the distance. Mac was almost to the car, walking at a normal pace, she arrived at the same time as he did. They got into the car and drove off. Chris looked out the window, watching the cars they passed and thinking. She laughed a little, almost drunkenly. All that had happened was just too unreal, like something out of a fairy tale. She thought of the story of Peter Pan and the Lost Boys, she wondered if the person who wrote that story knew something they weren't telling. "What's with the laugh?" Mac asked with concern, he didn't like to think that his passenger was turning into some sort crazed Immortal. "This is getting just a _little_ on the weird side. It's kind of funny in a way. Don't worry about me, I get a little strange sometimes, even for me. Sometimes things just hit me, and I just can't help but go a little nuts. I guess you could call it stress relief. It usually happens when I've been under a lot of stress." Mac accepted her answer. He was glad that she had a harmless way of dealing with stress. To many people, Immortals included, let stress fester and grow, changing them into a monster. He had known a few, those who couldn't cope and so made their own rules and played out their own agenda, taking innocent lives in the process. Chris seemed like a good person, not the type to get a superiority complex. She was very well grounded and a good head on her shoulders. Now if he could help her to keep it there a while longer, all would be well. They got to the airport right at eleven, couldn't have timed it better. The parked the car in the parking deck. As they got out, Mac looked around carefully. Satisfied that no one who mattered was looking, he pulled out his katana and hid it in the back seat. He muttered something. "What'd you say?" "Nothing, just that I hate the damned airport security. Leaving my sword like this makes me nervous." "Hey, everyone else is in the same boat." "I know. Come on." They walked to the building. They found a display screen which they used to find out what gate the flight would be coming in at. They went to that gate and waited for the flight to arrive. *** Moments after passengers began to disembark, they both sensed someone. Mac tensed for a moment, then relaxed. He and Chris went over to the passenger exit and waited. Within moments a tall man with dark reddish hair and a beard appeared, Andrew Balfour. He caught sight of them and rushed forward. His face betrayed the many emotions he was experiencing. The most obvious one was joy, for he was smiling broadly. "Duncan! Christina!" He gave Chris a big hug and asked, "How's my little girl?" "I'm fine Daddy." He released her and turned to Duncan. "It's been a long time, how are things?" They began to walk to the baggage claim area to get Andrew's luggage. "Things are pretty good, though they've been better." "So is she keeping your hands full?" "Just a little. It's the other fellow that's got me a little concerned." "Do you mean to say he's made another attempt?" "Yeah, a few hours ago, he tried to ambush us, but he got away," he paused, thought a moment, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his keys. "Chris, why don't you go get the car while we wait for them to unload the luggage." He handed her the keys. "You sure you trust me to drive the car?" "Yeah, I trust you." "O.K., if you say so," she said with a sigh of resignment. She walked off to get the car. "So, Duncan, how is she handling it?" "She's holding up. She has her moments, I suppose we all do though." "I assume you have already begun teaching her some, is she any good." "What is this, 'Parent's Night?'" he laughed. "She shows some promise, that fact she's been fencing for a few months gave her a bit of a head start." "Understandable. I'm glad I let her join that club, if it had been anything else, I might not have been so permisive." he paused trying to think of the best ask the question that was foremost in his mind. He decided that the best way would be directly. "Duncan, does she resent me for not telling her about this." "She was mad for a little while, upset that you didn't trust her enough tell her about your Immortality. She cried some, and got over it." The two old friends continued to talk, discussing plans. Mac told Andrew about his plan to go out to the island. Andrew thought that it was a good idea, it would give them a chance to figure out the best way to deal with the problem at hand. Chris was making her way to the car. She didn't have any trouble finding it. A 1965 T-Bird isn't exactly inconspicuous. She unlocked the door and got in. She was glad that Mac was tall because she hated getting into cars and banging her knee on the steering column. As it was, it was perfect fit. She started the engine, revving it to warm it back up. Even though it had just been driven, cold weather had a tendency to make these older cars difficult to start. She reached instinctively for the floor, where the shift was in her car, then realized that it was on the column, some habits are just hard to break. It had taken her a while to get used to driving her car after years of driving the old mini-van, but old habits die hard. As she drove out of the parking deck she noted happily that the car had power brakes, one thing that she still hadn't gotten used to not having in her car. She drove around to the curb, and parked it near the exit closet to luggage pickup. While she waited she played with the radio. This one was original, or at least close to it. It was nearly the same as the one that had been in her car, only this one was a plain AM/FM one. She pushed the program buttons, trying to find something worth listening to. She stopped when she found the NPR station doing their late night jazz segment. She recognized the piece almost immediately, Mangione's "Feels So Good". She'd played it in her high school jazz band a few years before, it was one of her favorites. She sat back and listened to it, almost jumped when she felt the two of them approach. She took the keys out of the ignition so Mac could unlock the trunk for the luggage. She moved to get out to let Mac drive, but he just handed her the keys back. "You drive." "What do I look like? A chauffeur?" "Not really, but you'll do." Mac joked. "Ha, ha. Very funny. Get in then." The two of them obediently got into the car, perpetuating the chauffeur line by both of them getting into the back seat. The ride back to the dojo was something along the lines of they talked, she drove. They had about half a century of catching up to do. Chris enjoyed driving this car, it was in a lot better condition that hers. * Mac must keep it very well tuned. * When they got back to the dojo, the two guests got their bags, and followed Mac inside. Andrew noticed a motorcycle parked under the stairs and asked about it. "Who's here this time of night?" "That's Richie's bike, I guess he's back." Almost as if on cue, confirmation came as they all felt his presence. "He's back." They piled into the elevator, and rode up to the loft. Sure enough, Richie was waiting there for them. When the door went up Richie switched off the late night program he had been watching. ______________________________ Parts 1-12 are on the web page, also a word 6.0 doc of those parts. http://www.vuse.vanderbilt.edu/~copelasa/home.htm Is anybody still reading this, I've heard form 5 people in the last 3 weeks. I can save myself a lot of trouble... Samantha =========================================================================