========================================================================= Date: Wed, 6 Mar 1996 11:33:44 -0500 Reply-To: JJSWBT@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Wendy Tillis Subject: Hidden Potential 5/22 Hidden Potential by: Wendy Tillis March, 1996 Standard disclaimers apply Chapter 5 The fog had started to roll in early that afternoon. By 5:00 it was impenetrable. Duncan had debated all day about going to see Margaret Grant again. He could call, but he knew that she was more likely to talk to him in person than on the phone. It had been a week since the shooting and he couldn't get her out of his mind. And not just because he hated not knowing how she had managed to survive. She had touched something in him that he had thought lost after Tessa died. Just being with her, even though she had been all business and showed no interest in him, had made him happy. It was irrational and he knew it. He also knew that he couldn't let it go. Duncan parked outside her house. The house was invisible, even at this short distance. He got out and walked up to the door. There was no answer to his ring. He waited and tried again. He didn't hear the dog either. She must be out. He went back to the T-Bird and sat on the front fender. He decide to wait a bit and see if she came home. How he was going to explain his visit, he didn't know. He'd think of something when the time came. About a half an hour later, he heard a voice coming out of the fog to his left. It was odd how sound traveled in fog. Some sounds carried well- you could hear them from a block away, others were strangely muffled . The voice, a woman's, was coming closer. " Stop that" < the voice sounded amused> " You really are impossible! If you don't give that back, you sleep on the floor tonight." Duncan started to leave, obviously she had a man with her. " No, don't drop it! Thanks. Why do I love you? < pause and then a low giggle> "Oh, right. Because you're such a big strong boy. . ." Duncan was embarrassed and moved to the driver's side of his car just as she came into sight. She was wearing a long dark raincoat and carrying what appeared to be a bottle in a brown paper bag. At her side pranced the big wolfhound. Tail wagging, the dog kept jumping up and trying to lick her face. Suddenly the dog caught Duncan's scent and turned in his direction, hackles up and growling deep in his throat. She stopped in her tracks, turning quickly to face whatever had attracted the dog's attention. Duncan saw her recognize him and relaxed slightly. "Angus! Down." The dog sat but he continued to growl low in his throat. "Angus. Down!" She was sterner this time and the dog laid down on the sidewalk. "Mr. MacLeod, isn't it? Don't mind Angus, please. Give him a little fog and he thinks he's the Hound of the Baskervilles." She came over and stood by his car. "What brings you back to my door? Does the Chaplain need some more information?" She chuckled at that. Duncan looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry I lied to you last week. I was afraid you wouldn't see me if I told you the truth." " And is the truth so strange that a lie is better? Interesting. Do you want to come in - or should we drink this out here?" And she held up the bag in her hand. The neck of a wine bottle protruded from the top. He could see that the bag was torn and wet - chewed? She saw where his eyes were looking and laughed. " Angus here was a bottle baby. He used to bring me his bottle when he was hungry. Now, he still like to carry bottles for me. It's all right - the wine is still safe. Come on in, it's too cold and wet to stand out here - even for a Highlander." Duncan started at that. "What do you mean?" "A Highlander. You know - Duncan MacLeod. The MacLeods are a Highland clan, are they not? I used to know them all - I took a class once." "Yes, yes, you're right. A Highland clan." They started to walk toward the house. At the bottom of the porch steps, she turned and called to the dog. He bounded up and reached the door before they did. "You big baby. Afraid of a little fog." She reached down and patted the dog's head as she unlocked the door with the other hand. Duncan risked losing a hand and reached out to scratch the big dog's ear. The grey head came around to gaze at him at the touch but he didn't bite. In fact, the dog seemed to lean into the touch. Margaret had the door open now. She looked down to see Duncan petting the hound. She cocked her head thoughtfully. "Here we go, everybody in." They walked into the foyer. Angus walked through the house into the kitchen and then shook himself to rid his coat of the damp. She started toward the kitchen too, then stopped and turned back toward Duncan. "Do you mind starting a fire? It's damp in here. You'll find everything you need next to the fireplace. I'll be right back." And she went into the kitchen too. Duncan went to the fireplace and found the wood, kindling and matches . He arranged the logs and lit the kindling. The wood was dry and caught with the first match. He was still down on his haunches when she re-entered the room carrying the now open wine bottle and two glasses. He stood up and then settled into one of the two arm chairs that flanked the fireplace. She took the other chair. Margaret handed one glass to Duncan and then poured some wine into it. She poured herself a glass and set the bottle on a small nearby table. She leaned back into her chair, closed her eyes and sighed. Then she opened her eyes again and looked directly at him. " So, Mr. MacLeod. Why are you here? You're not with the press, you're not with the hospital, you don't seem like a nut case. Why did you come back? What do you want?" "I wanted to apologize for lying to you last time. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. I did want to talk to you but I didn't know how to explain the real reason why." "Ah, so there *is* a reason. Why don't you just tell me what it is. The direct approach can be surprisingly effective." She smiled. Duncan smiled back. He found he was very comfortable talking to her. It was almost as if she was an old friend. She did seem older than the twenty or so she was. Maybe she had what Grace always called an "old soul." " I wanted to talk to you about what happened to you because. . I have a friend. This friend, kinsman actually, had a very similar thing happen to him." "Really? When was this? What happened?" " It was . . a few years back. He was stabbed. . in a fight. He died, healed and came back to life." " How extraordinary." She was looking at him curiously. He wondered if she thought he was crazy now. " What did the doctors say? Did they ever discover how it happened?" " No, the doctors never did find out what caused it." Duncan took another sip of his wine and looked at her. She had turned and was staring into the fire. God, she was beautiful! Her hair was loose tonight, flowing down her back and over her shoulders. It was waist length, thick and slightly curly. The fire made it look blood red - but shot through with gold, bronze, copper, even black highlights. He wondered what she was thinking about. He wondered where she came from, if she had a boyfriend. Surely a girl this beautiful had a boyfriend. He wanted to reach out and run his hand through her hair. He looked away suddenly. That was stupid! He barely knew her and she was only a child compared to him. She had noticed his sudden movement and looked back at him. " I'm sorry, Mr. MacLeod. I was thinking. I shouldn't have been ignoring you. " Call me Duncan, please." "Duncan, then. If you'll call me Maggie. What happened - to your . . kinsman?" "He . Connor . . . had to leave home. He had troubling dealing with what happened - with the notoriety. The people round him treated him differently - the man who rose from the dead. He found it easier to be with people who didn't know about what happened." "Connor - that's your kinsman's name? Did he ever figure out *why*?" " No, and I don't think he cares anymore. He is what he is. I doubt Connor needs any deeper meaning after all these years." " But you do? You want to know why?" She looked at him with understanding. "I don't know *why* Duncan. I wish I did." They sat in silence for a few minutes. Duncan was trying to think of something to say - some reason to stay. The truth was that he just liked being here. It was oddly comforting to be sitting here drinking wine by the fire with this girl who had no idea what he was. To just be "normal' for a few minutes. She didn't seem to be in any hurry to have him leave either. As they sat in companionable silence, her staring at the fire, Duncan staring at her, the big dog padded over and put his head in her lap. She petted him a moment then stopped. The dog turned and came over to Duncan. He put his head in Duncan's lap, demanding more attention. She looked over at them. "That's very strange. Angus doesn't usually like strangers." "Maybe he smells a fellow Scot?" Duncan laughed. "Maybe. Maybe. He is usually a good judge of character. You should have seen him run Maury Povitch off the property the other day." " Are the press still bothering you?" " Some. They can't believe I'm not going to try and make money off my experience. All the talk shows and tabloids have offered money - in some cases quite a lot. I had to get my phone number changed." " It must be a bit tempting." " No, I'm not desperate for the money and I like my privacy. I just want it all to go away. Forget what happened." Duncan supposed that could be a less than subtle hint that she wanted him to go away too - but he didn't really think so. Still, it was getting late. Time to go home. He hesitated since he knew that once he left, he wouldn't have another excuse to come back and see her again. He wanted to make this moment last. She finished her wine and stood up. That was a signal even Duncan couldn't ignore. He finished his wine, put the glass on the table, and stood up "It has been nice talking to you, Duncan. I wish I could help - I wish I knew what had happened to me. But I don't. Maybe some things we just aren't supposed to understand." "You're probably right. I'm sorry I took up so much of your time. I'll be going now." "It wasn't a bother. It was either talk to you or finish that blasted term paper. I enjoyed the company." She walked him to the door. " If I . . . if I ever discover the secret . . I'll let you know. Deal?" She smiled at him. "Deal" They shook hands briefly and he left. She watched him disappear into the fog. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. Kinsman of Connor MacLeod. Interesting.