Date: Mon, 14 Aug 1995 09:19:36 -0600 (MDT) Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Kellie Matthews-Simmons Subject: In The Dark part 9 of 9 - Revised This story copyright 1995 by the authors. Permission to distribute freely is given, provided you do not attempt to sell it. The X-Files is a trademark of Fox Television, characters not used by permission. Highlander is a trademark of Rysher Entertainment, characters not used by permission. Star Trek: The Next Generation is a trademark of Paramount, Inc., characters not used by permission. (Whew! That's a lot of disclaiming!) In the Dark was written during the summer of 1995, between Season 2 & 3 of The X-Files, and Seasons 3 & 4 of Highlander. Anything which occurs in future episodes of these programs may substantially impact the continuity of this story, unfortunately, there's not a thing we can do about it. HOWEVER, we are quite willing to produce scripts in order to maintain said continuity! ;-> As always, comments are welcome. NOTE: This is a story in two parts... or perhaps more properly it is two stories connected by a couple of common threads. After we finished it and ran it through our "beta test" audience, we had several comments on the difference in pacing between the two sections. We scratched our heads and thought about what the problem might be, until we realized that there was no problem, there was just a difference. The major drawback to writing crossovers isn't meshing universes, that's fairly simple. The hard part is blending styles. The X-Files, and Highlander, for example, is heavily plot- driven. TNG, on the other hand, was often completely character-driven, with plot taking a backseat. Neither is better or worse by definition, merely different. At any rate, we feel that we've succeeded in dealing with those differences and hope that you do as well. Kellie Matthews-Simmons // matthewk@colorado.edu Julia Kosatka // julia@bayou.uh.edu In The Dark, Part 9 c. 1995 Kellie Matthews-Simmons & Julia Kosatka Duncan backed into the cargo bay, freeing his sword from his plaid as he moved. Dane advanced on him, sword extended. Behind him, just before the door slid closed, Duncan saw movement and let his gaze flicker past his opponent for a moment. He swore under his breath as he saw Guinan slip inside before it closed, to stand half-hidden by the arch of the doorway. Damn her, what the hell did she think she was doing? She should be safely out of harms way! Pain scored his arm, drawing his attention immediately back where it belonged. Dane had struck, and he'd instinctively parried, but not in time. The fading sting and itch told him it was a minor wound, though, and he ignored it. His katana was longer than Dane's seaxe, and he was taller, so he had better reach. He used that to his advantage, wrapping a blow around Dane's defenses to leave a slash and a darkening stain along his ribs, through his finely tailored suit. Dane growled and moved back, then darted in a stabbing attack. Duncan dodged it, and they closed, swords hilt-to-hilt. Duncan managed to break free and he scored another hit before stepping out of range. Dane lunged and slipped a little, his slick-soled shoes not finding a purchase on the smooth floor of the cargo bay. Duncan's moccasin-style boots had soft, gripping soles that gave him an advantage. Dane was fighting strangely... his defenses were unusually sloppy, and his assault unusually intense. Time after time Dane attacked in a way that left him open to a return blow. Puzzled but too busy to ponder the meaning of it, Duncan took advantage of it, touching Dane time after time until he was staggering with bloodloss. He finally dropped to his knees, and even as Duncan thought `this is too easy' he drew back his katana and brought it down. Something grabbed his sword and it rebounded away with the same force he'd put into the blow. The effect threw him several feet and he landed on the floor, stunned, arms aching from the impact. He saw Dane rise, a triumphant smile on his face. His mind refused for a moment to grasp that Dane wasn't dead. How could a dead man be walking toward him? Then he understood that somehow the blow had been turned aside... though how Dane had done it he had no idea. He rolled to his knees and tried to lift his sword to ward off the blow he knew was coming, but his arms were still too shaky to work properly and the blade wavered. He concentrated, trying to steady it, when there was a sudden movement behind Dane. "You're cheating," Guinan's said, her voice clear and hard, "...and that gives me the field." Dane stopped mid-stride, clearly caught off guard. He jerked around, mouth open in astonishment as Guinan's arm came around from behind him and rammed up under his solar plexus. His eyes widened as his breath hissed out, and he slowly collapsed over on himself. She withdrew her hand and he saw that she held a blade, dark with blood. Dropping her dagger, she bent to wrest Dane's blade from his hand. He scrabbled, trying feebly to retain it, and then with his other hand he found her dropped dagger. Duncan lunged forward to stop him and sprawled on the floor, a foot short of his goal, like a batter tagged out trying to slide into third base. Dane lashed out at Guinan, laying her open from navel to breast. Duncan moaned, closing his eyes momentarily, only to open them a moment later when Guinan, unbelievably, laughed. He stared, stunned. She seemed unhurt, and he could see a white gleam beneath the torn fabric of her tunic. "You lose," she said, amusedly, then with her free hand reached down and tore loose something at his throat. A second later she held up an object that looked for all the world like a necklace. She tossed it toward Duncan. "Never trust a sociopath, Duncan." He picked up the object, studying it. Up close it was clearly some sort of technological device, and bore what looked like Ferengi glyphs on one side. He still wasn't sure what it was. He levered himself to his feet and looked at Guinan to ask, and stopped cold, stunned. "No!" he managed to shout, a hand extended as if that could stop her. It didn't, of course, and he flinched at the all-too-familiar whistling sound of a blade slashing down, then the dull, wet sound of it impacting human flesh. He shuddered, knowing that he had come within seconds of being on the receiving end of that sound. He wasn't sorry Dane was dead, but he wished she hadn't done it. It wasn't fair to put that burden on her. >From the corpse, a swirling mist of energy rose and swayed toward her, then abandoned her to reach for him. He was momentarily surprised that it left her. Once more he'd forgotten that she wasn't that like him. He shook his head, as if that would turn the Quickening aside. He wanted no part of Tanner Dane, not even this. A tendril found him, shockingly cold, ecstatically painful; as if he had taken the substance of space inside himself. Cold, dark, empty, yet strangely seductive. He wrenched away, one hand over the entry point as if he could physically ward it off. Ward it off. He remembered something as another bolt shook him, and he moaned, shaking his head again. "Give me his sword!" he managed to croak out, backing away. She pulled her gaze away from the writhing energy and looked down at the weapon in her hand, clearly puzzled, then shrugged and moved to give it to him, skirting the mist-like tendrils carefully. He took the sword in his left hand and crossed his katana over it, placing the weapons between himself and the mist like a barrier. Though he'd often wanted to refuse a Quickening, he'd never been able to, nor had he heard of anyone else doing so, but even so, he had to try. He couldn't bring himself to just accept Dane's darkness into himself as if it didn't matter. He didn't even believe in the damned Game any more, why should he play it? The mist struck at him, and he moved to intercept it. It hit the crossed blades and recoiled, shooting off to zip crazily along the wall panels until it faded. Another tendril tried to reach him and he blocked it as well, working as hard to refuse the dark gift as he had fought to kill the man who carried it. He saw Guinan crouched next to a storage box, watching him, watching the energy, her eyes wide with amazement and a touch of fear she hadn't shown when confronting Dane. He flinched from that. God, the last thing he wanted was for her to fear him! He wanted to reach out to her, to take away the fear, but the Quickening hadn't finished with him yet. Another energy tentacle got past his defenses and struck him full in the chest. It staggered him, filling him with torturous delight. He shuddered, trying to resist the impulse to yield and let it take him. Suddenly Guinan was there with him, ducking under the swords to come up inside the circle of his arms. Her hands covered his, guiding him, supporting him. There was a surge of unknown power in her touch, like nothing he'd ever felt before. He stared, astonished, as a sort of bubble of greenish light expanded outward around them, a bubble which the energy of the quickening could not seem to penetrate. The energy writhed, undirected, seemingly confused, swaying away in streams that ricocheted around the room, expending themselves against the ship. He realized after a moment that the sway and lurch beneath his feet wasn't just his own exhaustion. The ship was reeling. He hadn't even thought about what a Quickening might do to the all-too-fragile shell of a starship. He couldn't let that happen. Praying to any deity that would listen that it do no real harm, he tried to step away from her, only to find he was held fast, paralyzed, as if they were magnets of opposite polarity. "Guinan... stop! I have to take it, it might harm the ship if I don't." She shook her head, her braids tickling his throat. "No, I think I have it now..." As if in response to her words, the energy seemed to concentrate, becoming a single stream of brilliant plasmatic light. It shimmered and lick against the bubble, fanned out over its surface, arrowed inward, and disappeared into Guinan's hands. She shivered a little, and then the glow was gone, the Quickening was gone, and all was silent. Finding he could move again, he let his arms fall, releasing Guinan from his embrace as he did. She turned and slid her arms around him, holding him close, her breathing as fast and labored as his own. Finally she leaned back a little and looked up at him with a wicked smile. "Was it good for you too?" He couldn't help it. Despite everything, he laughed. She wasn't the first to make that dead-on comparison, nor would she be the last, but somehow this was the first time it had seemed amusing instead of perverse. As they stood, laughing, the door into the corridor opened and a gaggle of gold-uniformed security officers poured into the room, led by an annoyed-looking Worf. He stopped, surveying the scene, and motioned for his team to lower their phasers. "Evidently you no longer need our assistance. I take it this was the saboteur?" Guinan nodded. "It was. I heard him admit to it." She smiled suddenly. "Sorry, Worf. We were kind of in a hurry or we would have let you take care of it." He nodded, looking at Dane's body, and a little ways away, his head. "An effective, if messy solution. I salute you, MacLeod." Duncan shook his head. "Salute Guinan, not me. Without her I'd be the one lying there." Worf looked at Guinan in astonishment, then shook his massive head. "I do not know why I am surprised." Guinan chuckled. "Neither do I. I've taken you down in mok'bara, and, beaten Picard three out of four matches with sabers." He nodded, then looked at her apologetically "I am sure you were justified in doing this, but we will have to investigate." "I know. It's not a problem. I activated the bay recorders when I came in, I trust they will show that we acted in self-defense." Worf nodded again, and turned to MacLeod. "The scanners registered a massive discharge of energy, what sort of weapon was he carrying that would cause it? We could not identify the source or type of energy involved." Duncan snorted. "I'm not surprised, and it wasn't a weapon, it was him. That's what happens when an immortal dies in the presence of another immortal. We've never been quite sure exactly what causes it, or why it only happens if there's another of us present. As for what it is, I suppose you could call it a `soul,' for lack of a better term." Worf looked dissatisfied. "Commander LaForge will not be pleased." "No, he certainly isn't," said the man in question who had come in behind the security team, tricorder out and scanning. "How the hell am I supposed to explain to the captain that someone's soul knocked out the damned starboard power coupling?" He sighed, shaking his head. "Oh well, I guess we've seen weirder things. We're just lucky the damage wasn't any worse. Next time, take your fight planetside." Duncan nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't have much choice." "No, I don't suppose you did. Well, at least I'll have time to get things back in shape before the captain gets back." "Where is he?" Guinan asked. Geordie grinned. "Well, he went planetside about an hour ago, and he took his saddle. I'd say he went riding." "Good. He needed that after the vacation he had" she turned and looked at Worf. "Can we go? I need to change." Worf nodded. "I know where to find you if I have questions." She took Duncan's hand and urged him toward the door. "Let's get out of here." **** They walked in a rather subdued silence to her quarters. As they stepped inside, he saw her tunic gape along the slash Dane had put in it, and he reached out to slide a finger down the rent. "I thought you were dead..." he said softly. "It scared the hell out of me." She put her hand over his, guiding his fingers farther inside so he could feel the heavy fabric beneath the tear. "I wore my fencing armor. I knew Dane was dangerous, and I've no desire to leave this life just yet. I've got too much left to do. I'm sorry I frightened you, but I just couldn't stand there and watch him kill you because he cheated." "What was that thing?" "A personal shield. Latest Ferengi make, too. Usually they're full-body protection but he'd modified his so it only covered his throat. I think that's why he let you cut him so many times, to sucker you in, to make you think he was vulnerable." Duncan nodded. "It's funny, I remember thinking it was too easy." He rubbed the back of his hand against the armor, feeling the softness of her beneath it. How could someone so soft be so strong? At that nonsensical thought, he realized he was feeling a little stunned, in shock. She'd killed Dane. She'd done... something, something he'd thought impossible. She'd kept the Quickening from him. He still couldn't quite believe it. "You shouldn't have killed him," he said. "It wasn't your fight." "Duncan, he made it my fight four hundred years ago when he tried to use me as bait. I don't feel guilty, so do me a favor and don't feel guilty for me, okay?" He nodded, smiling a little. "Understood." "Good. You know, I didn't quite believe you when you told me about the energy thing. Not until I saw it... not until I felt it. It's strangely seductive. I could tell you wanted to let it in." He shuddered and dropped onto her couch, his face in his hands. "I did. It's impossible to resist. Guinan, you can't imagine what it's like. Sex, only a thousand times more intense. Pleasure that's simultaneously agony." "I don't have to imagine, Duncan. I felt it, though not like you would... you seem to be more attuned to it than I am, it seemed to really want you, but it settled for me once I figured out how to draw it." "And I wanted it, but at the same time it was him and I wanted nothing of him to become part of me. I felt like I would be--" he paused, searching for the right word, and found it. "I felt contaminated by him. Can you understand?" She nodded, a frown on her face. "Rape." "Worse. Imagine enjoying it." She shivered. "Duncan..." she knelt and drew him into her arms. "Sometimes I can forget who it was," he whispered against her shoulder, "...forget their evil, forget everything but the experience; but not this time." "It's all right, you did what you had to." "No, you did it for me. What I don't understand is how you did it. I've never been able to refuse to take a Quickening before, not in all the years I've been what I am." She looked uncomfortable. "I don't know how I did it. I just wanted to help. I just knew you needed me. What happened was as much a shock to me as it was to you. It was like when I touched you, the knowledge of what to do was just *there*; as if I've always known what to do, and was just waiting for the need to arise." He shook his head, confused. "How could you know what to do if you'd never done it before?" She made a frustrated face. "I don't *know*! Damn it, Duncan, there are all kinds of things my kind should be able to do that I never learned, because there were no teachers left by the time I got around to wanting to learn. Maybe it's something I would have eventually learned about, maybe there is a need for something similar among my people. I don't know, and there's no one to ask!" Her agitation was clear, and he felt somehow ungrateful for even having asked. "I'm sorry, it just seemed so oddly convenient. But I'm thankful to you, more than you can possibly imagine." "There's no need to be, Duncan. None at all." Her hands framed his face, then her lips were on his, soft, warm, alive. He kissed her back like a starving man, breathing her breath, feeling her heartbeat in her mouth, in her body. Finally they broke, and he leaned against her with a sigh. "`Breathe me, beloved...'" he said softly, quoting. "`Ravish me, so I can pass on to sleep, and to love.'" she quietly gave him the next line. He lifted his head, staring into her eyes, amazed to find she knew the poem, and could make the association. "`I feel death's rejuvenating tide transform my blood to balm and ether.'" "`I live by day full of faith and courage.'" she gave him the next line, and waited, then joined him in the last few words. "`And perish by night in holy fire.'" ** "Perfect." he said, and closed his eyes. She tugged him to his feet, and he followed her. **** Guinan stared out at the sunset, watching the light filter through the gathering storm clouds like some Turnerian painting, feeling a little sad, a little apprehensive. The view toward the mountains from the gardens behind Duncan's house was awe-inspiring. No wonder he'd chosen this place to build his home. Of course, his home was no less awe-inspiring. How many people lived in an authentic medieval mansion that dated from seven hundred years earlier? He'd had the building imported, stone by stone, from Earth. She still couldn't believe anyone would have wanted to raze something this beautiful to make room for an apartment building. It even had a chapel. That she understood quite well. Being what he was, holy ground made this place not just a home, but a sanctuary. One thing was for certain, with forty rooms, he had plenty of room for a family. "I wish we had more time," she said finally. "You can come back any time you like." "I know." Guinan sighed, and looked at him anxiously. "You do understand, don't you?" Duncan nodded. "Of course. Kismet, fate... whatever you want to call it. You can't leave them yet." "Not yet. There's something left undone, something I have to finish. I don't know what it is yet, but when it happens, I'll know." He smiled. "You've told me that ten times now. Guinan, I understand, all right? I'm not angry. I'm not upset." She smiled and shook her head. "I know, I just can't help making sure. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings." "Don't worry, I think I'm old enough to handle this," he grinned. "Besides, we still have a lot of planning to do. You'll be hearing from me." "True. Sorry to be so insecure." He laughed. "It's nice to see it happens to you, too." She eyed him narrowly. "It's a good thing you said `too'." "I wouldn't dare do otherwise, my nose would start to grow." She laughed, then leaned back against him with a sigh. "I'll miss you." "I'll miss you too." The emotion in his voice told her he wasn't just echoing her sentiments. He meant it. "Whatever will you do without me here?" she asked, jokingly. "I'll endeavor to bear up manfully under the strain." She grinned and stood up, brushing grass and twigs off her rear. "Well, I guess it's time. They're going to leave without me if I don't get back." She reached for her communicator. "Wait..." She stopped, her hand hovering over the device. "What?" "I have something for you. If I remember right, you once expressed a liking for this." He dug in his sporran and came out with a small object. He caught her hand and placed the item on her palm. It was light, and oddly shaped. She regarded it curiously, then unwrapped the silk that shrouded it. In the fading light the amber turtle fetish gleamed warm and golden, like a little sun. "Oh, Duncan! I didn't even know you noticed!" she said, remembering the first time she'd seen it. He'd been making coffee, and she hadn't thought he'd been watching her at all. He looked a little embarrassed. "I have a good memory." "It's beautiful, but... why?" "I wanted you to have something from your past that you can look at with happy memories instead of painful ones. At least, I hope that's what you'll have." "Of course I will!" She smoothed her fingers over the back of the fetish, feeling the tiny lines of its carved shell, and grinned. "A turtle, eh? Are you saying I tend to live in a shell?" "Hopefully not any more. Maybe it'll help remind you not to go back in. It has other symbolism as well, turtles are long-lived." "How appropriate." "I thought so." "Anything else?" "According to the legends of the people who carved this, Turtle carried the world on her back. Without her, there would be no place for living things to rest, no peace, just endless wandering." She looked at him, saw the serenity in his dark eyes, and smiled. That was new. "That's lovely. Thank you. I'll put it in my quarters-- out where anyone can see it." He smiled happily. "And you'll let people in to see it, right? No more hiding by yourself?" She nodded gravely. "Nor will you?" "How can I, now? Or at least, in a couple of months." "True. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into." "I haven't a clue... but does anyone ever?" She shook her head, laughing. "No, or they'd never do it. And despite warnings from those of us who do know, they keep volunteering!" "It'll be good for me." "Tell me that in twenty years and I may believe you." Her communicator chirped at her, and she sighed. "Last call. I really have to go." "I know. Come back." "As soon as I can." She stood on her toes to kiss him, and stepped away, touching the communicator to signal her readiness. She lifted a hand and saw him do the same. "Godspeed, Guinan," she heard as the world disappeared. **** Duncan looked up from his workscreen, drawing himself out of the past he was putting into words and back to the present. The shrieks from outside had become a bit on the shrill side. He sighed and pushed his chair back, going to the door to look out. As he'd suspected, things were getting out of hand. He pushed open the door and strode out into the summer warmth, and managed to peel E'lan and Amber off Donal who lay on his back flailing feebly at his attackers. The boy scrambled to his feet and retreated a few steps to stand with Dhavi and Ewan. "I told you it's not nice to gang up on the boys, E'lan." "Donal started it!" Amber said, glaring at her brother who was now prudently shielded behind the other boys. "He said we were just girls!" Duncan chuckled, shaking his head. "Donal's too young to know that there is no `just' about girls. Don't mind him. He'll grow out of it." E'lan looked up at him, her dark face set in a frustrated scowl. "But how long will it take him? We've been trying to teach him for two years!" He laughed again. "Face it, love. Males are slow. I learned, but it took me several hundred years." E'lan stared at Donal in dismay. "But he's human! At that rate he'll be dead before he learns!" "No, he won't. Remember, they learn faster in recompense for their shorter lifespans." She nodded thoughtfully, and sighed. "Maybe soon, then." "If you keep teaching him, it should be. But next time, one-on- one. It's not fair to..." he broke off, feeling a powerful surge of Presence. E'lan and Dhavi looked around, curious. "What's that?" Dhavi asked, "It feels like you, but you're here." Duncan looked at the figure who stood between him and the house, frowning because the sun was in his eyes and he couldn't see them clearly. Whoever it was, they were strong. He hadn't felt a presence like that in a very long time. Dane hadn't even come close to this level. "I'm not sure who it is, Dhavi, but stay here while I find out." He strode back toward the figure, tensely realizing that his sword was in the house and he would have to pass them to get it, then stopped in his tracks as the shadow of the house blocked the sun and he could see who it was. "What the hell? Guinan?" He was confused. She'd never set off his `alarms' like this before. She put her hands on her hips and looked at him in mock offense. "That is not the kind of greeting I expect from you, Duncan." He covered the distance between them, and greeted her properly before speaking again. "I'm sorry, but..." he stopped, realizing the sensation wasn't coming from her, but from farther away, behind her. He looked from her, to the house, and back, noting her sly smile. "All right, what have you done?" he asked sternly. "I ran across someone I thought you might want to see." "Who?" She turned and waved to someone inside the house. A tall, slim, dark-haired man stepped out, looking as if he were a bit unsure of his welcome. Duncan stared, a slow smile spreading over his face as he realized who it was. "My God... Methos? Is it really you?" Methos nodded, looking oddly tentative. In all the years Duncan had known him, he'd never seen the man anything other than self-assured. He gestured at Guinan. "She said you wouldn't mind... that you'd want to see me..." "She was right. Welcome, friend. If it had been anyone else I'd have gone for my sword, but you're always welcome." "I wasn't sure, after what happened..." "Oh for god's sake, Methos! That was three hundred years ago! Live and let live, all right?" The other man smiled finally, the old, familiar, slightly irritating smile Duncan remembered all too well. He was about to say something about it when a sudden chorus of shrieks and yelps from behind him told him his earlier attempt to mediate the altercation hadn't taken. He sighed, looking from Guinan to Methos, who was looking rather puzzled. "Excuse me for just a minute," Duncan said as he turned and waded back into the fray. This time he grabbed the aggressors around their waists and stood with a squirming girl under each arm, waiting until Donal was again safely out of reach before he set them on their feet. "You two, go inside until you've cooled off," he said sternly. They protested loudly, but he held fast, and finally they turned and sulked off into the house. He turned to the boys. "You three, go down to the village and spend a couple of hours at the library reading up on gender equality. When you come back, I want essays." That set up howls of protest louder than those his other commandment had evoked, but the boys finally turned and headed off down the path. He turned to find Methos and Guinan grinning at him, and after a moment, found himself grinning back. "In fact, Methos, I'm glad you're here. I could use some help." Methos backed away, his hand spread. "I was just stopping by to say hi..." "Oh no you don't. You owe me. I said live and let live, not forgive and forget." Methos sighed. "All right, for a while anyway. But I don't owe you forever." "No, just long enough to get this bunch through puberty." Methos stared at him, appalled. "Oh my god..." Guinan chuckled. "I thought he might come in handy." "And you were right, as usual. Of course, we could use you around for the girls." "I've got to get back to the Enterprise..." she began, hastily. "One of these days you won't have that excuse." She smiled, her expression softening. "Actually, I'm looking forward to that." He smiled back. "So am I." The End *NOTE: Poetry used in sections 6 and 14 are from "Hymns to the Night" by Novalis (Georg von Hardenberg, 1772-1801), translation by Dick Higgins, c. 1988, MacPherson ed., ISBN: 0-914232-90-8 **NOTE: The flashback scene to Anne and Duncan in Paris is from the third-season Highlander episode "Mortal Sins," written by Lawrence Shore. No copyright infringment is intended. ***NOTE: The reference Picard makes to sculptor Rena Taylor referrs to the fanfiction "A la Q" by Kellie Matthews-Simmons and Julia Kosatka. We don' need no steenkin' permission to use our own story! :-) =========================================================================