Date: Thu, 6 Jul 1995 15:31:14 -0500 Reply-To: kellie , Julia Kosatka Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Julia Kosatka Subject: In the Dark, part 10/17 Barclay sighed in resignation, and stepped into the lift with MacLeod right behind him. "10-Forward," he said, and surprised himself by not stuttering. Even though he knew Dr. Crusher would *not* be pleased he was actually looking forward to spending more time with MacLeod. He was one of the few people Barclay had ever met that didn't seem at all put off by Barclay's manner, and besides, he *was* curious about Valhalla. The lift doors opened and Barclay stepped out. "T-this way, sir." "Come on, Barclay, call me Mac. I'm not your superior officer! Hell, I'm not even a Fleeter!" Barclay was momentarily taken aback, but then he realized that MacLeod was extending a gesture of friendship. He nodded. "Okay, Mac." It sounded a bit awkward, but he thought he could get used to it. "In here," he said, gesturing to the elegant frosted-glass and wood doors of Ten-Forward which slid open at their approach. Mac stopped for a moment, looking around, and whistled softly. "This is some mess hall!" Barclay felt a rush of pride. "The Enterprise is some ship." he stated fondly. "We don't have a mess hall. We have Ten-Forward." "Aye, I can see that. Well, would you mind if we sat there?" He indicated an empty table near the huge viewport. "I've always had a weak spot for a good view." "Anywhere you like." Mac made his way through the tables to the one he'd chosen. Barclay noticed he drew a few curious glances, mostly from women, and he had the sudden hopeful thought that maybe if he hung around with MacLeod for awhile, it might improve his image. "So, Barclay, what do you recommend here?" "Anything." "Anything? Really?" "Really. We have the best replicator programs in Starfleet." Duncan sighed. "Replicators. Oh well." "There's a good selection of hydroponics too." MacLeod's expression lightened. "That sounds better. I confess, I prefer *real* food when I can get it." "Is that a taste you acquired on Valhalla?" "No, I've always been that way, but it was easier to get real food there, for certain." "I guess that would be an advantage. Is real food really all that different?" He suddenly realized he hadn't stammered in three or four sentences, and decided it must have something to do with MacLeod. MacLeod looked thoughtfully off at the stars, and finally nodded. "Yes, and no. It doesn't *taste* all that different, but the body knows. There's earth, and air, water and sun in real food. Replicated food is missing those elements that give us life." Barclay goggled slightly. Philosophy, from a Commercial Pilots Guildsman? Unheard of. He was fascinated. "B-But replicated food is just transformed from other substances. W-Why don't they have t-the same... elements?" Damn. Stammering again. If he hadn't *noticed* he was doing better, he wouldn't have started again. Mac frowned reflectively. "Perhaps they were once, but they've been transformed through mechanical means. They may nourish the body, but not the soul." "Doesn't technology--" Barclay began only to be interrupted by a hail from his combadge. "LaForge to Barclay." He tapped the device, activating it. "Barclay here." "I need you in Engineering. We're running a recrystallization routine and we're short-handed with Pfannen and Suvar both out." "Aye sir. On my way." He sighed, and looked at MacLeod. "I guess I'll have to talk with you some other time." MacLeod nodded. "Anytime, Lieutenant. I won't have much to occupy me here." Barclay smiled, pleased that Mac was willing to talk again. "I-I'll see you around," he said, as he headed for the doors. MacLeod waved and turned back to the stars. **** With Barclay gone, Duncan felt a bit at a loss. He wasn't sure where he was supposed to be, other than sickbay, and *that* he planned to avoid as long as possible. Medical technology had become entirely too efficient for his tastes. His physiology would drive the machines, and doctors, crazy. He flagged down a server and ordered a meal and an ale. He was more than pleased to find that the bar offered not only the popular synths' but the real thing as well. Then he leaned back in his seat and looked out at the splendor before him. No matter how many years he spent in space, he never tired of the majesty of it all. Once again, he pitied the mortals around him. Having grown up with this *spectacle* at their beck and call, they had lost some of the awe that he felt would remain with him always. **** Guinan adjusted her hat one last time before leaving her quarters. The odd feeling that had woken her during the night was still with her. It was familiar, but she couldn't quite place what it meant. A slight prickling at the back of her neck, a tension at the base of her spine. Whatever it was, she felt sure it would make itself known in its own good time. Greeting people as she headed toward 10-Forward, Guinan was aware of a growing sense of expectation. Whatever it was that put her on alert was getting closer. The simulated teak doors opened and Guinan glided into her domain, nodding to one of her waiters and speaking to several people on her way to the bar. What she was feeling right now she hadn't felt in years, centuries, perhaps. She scanned the crowded room for... someone or something out of the ordinary. *There*, by the port in the forward corner of the room, a man with long dark hair pulled neatly back, seated alone, body half turned from the room, eyes rapt on the passing stars. Her pulse-rate picked up, her breath going shallow as she suddenly realized who it was. As the first flush of stunned surprise passed, a smile lit her face and she began to weave her way over to his table. Whether he was intent on the view or his own thoughts, she couldn't tell, but it was him. She knew that face well, she knew that... presence too. Impossible though it was, she *knew* this man, though she'd thought him centuries dead. For a moment she doubted herself. Perhaps, just perhaps the resemblance wasn't as great as it seemed. Maybe he was merely a descendant of her long-dead friend. Either way, she *had* to meet him. She had to know. The chair closest to her was turned slightly out from the table, as if someone had just left, or as if he were waiting for someone. Never having been one to let an opportunity slip, Guinan slid into it. The man turned, shock coloring his face as he recognized her. That told her everything she needed to know. It was him. "So, it is you. I don't know how, but it's you." She grinned, and assumed a very *bad* Cuban accent. "You got some 'splaining to do, Duncan MacLeod." **** Subject: In the Dark 9/14 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Duncan was on his feet and reaching instinctively for his sword, when for the second time that day remembered it wasn't at hand. He'd had to bring it aboard in his baggage, which had been beamed directly to his quarters, wherever that was. Seconds after that, he realized that he hadn't felt the unmistakable Presence of a fellow Immortal. He sat back down, warily, hoping he hadn't looked as odd as he suspected he had; and leaned forward, studying her face intently. She looked only a little older, but much, much wiser. He saw a world of experience in her eyes, and wondered if his own looked like that as well. "Guinan... my God! Is it really you?" "It is. I could ask the same, but the look on your face already answered that question. It's been a long time, Duncan." He shook his head, looking amazed. "Now there's an understatement if ever I've heard one! I don't understand, how can you still be alive? *What* are you?" "I'm an El-Aurian. I used that as my name when I knew you, but it's really the name of the world I was born on. My people have very long lifespans compared to humans. Or should I say to *most* humans? Now it's my turn. What are *you*?" He sighed, and shook his head. "Good question. Am I human? I've never been quite sure." He looked around and realized that several of those closest to them were watching them curiously, and probably trying their best to eavesdrop as well. He couldn't have that. "Guinan, can we go somewhere more private to talk? This is too... public for my needs." She eyed him narrowly. "Secrets, Duncan?" "Please, Guinan." She studied him a moment longer, then nodded. "Follow me." She stood up and began to walk toward the door. As he followed, he registered her clothing rather than her face, and frowned, a little puzzled by their rather nun-like aspect. He remembered her wearing bright, African-inspired prints that he thought had suited her well. He smiled, realizing that those `suitable' styles had been as foreign to her as a Vulcan's robes would be to him. Was her current dress haute-couture on El-Auria? Probably. She led him out of Ten-Forward and around the corner to a door where she keyed in a lock sequence. It opened onto a large stateroom, she stepped inside, and motioned him in. "Welcome to my parlor." He chuckled. "I seem to remember you saying that to me once before." "You have a good memory." "Amazingly enough, I do. I sometimes wonder how, considering how much I have to remember." "How old are you, anyway?" "I was born in 1592," he smiled wryly. "In just a little over two- hundred years, I'll be a thousand." She looked a bit stunned, and took a seat on a comfortable-looking chair. When he was similarly settled, she spoke again. "I can't believe this! You're older than I am! I'm still around because for my people, that's normal, but how can you still be alive? You owe me some answers. Are you alien? Clone? Android?" He laughed. "Android? Now there's a new one! I wonder if I could get away with that?" His smile faded, and he sighed. "You deserve the truth. I was born on Earth, and lived most of my life there. As far as I know I'm human, but my unusual physiology has allowed me to live far beyond what's normal for humankind. There are others who, like me, live very long lives, though compared to the general populace we're quite rare. We've been called Immortals by some, though that's somewhat of a misnomer. We don't age, and we don't die under normal circumstances, but there *are* ways we can be killed permanently. Decapitation, certain types of energy weapon. If we're killed, temporarily, by anything less than that, we generally recover." She stared at him for a long time, then shook her head in clear amazement. She shook her head, smiling ruefully. "Here I thought I knew just about everything there was to know about Humans, and then you tell me this! I... why didn't you tell me when I knew you before?" He looked at her, one expressive eyebrow lifted. "You really have to ask that? I don't remember you telling me you were an alien, either." She smiled. "Touche. You're right. But why should you have to hide it? You *weren't* an alien." "It's not something I normally tell anyone about. We have to hide what we are, we've always had to. When we've been found out in the past, we've been seen as witches, demons, aliens... whatever society fears is realized in us, though in truth most of us would rather help humankind than harm it. We represent too much of a temptation to too many people, and despite our immortality, we're too vulnerable." He sighed. "Then, too, we have to hide from our own kind." "From your own kind? Why?" "Because of the Game." "What game?" He shook his head, his expression eloquent of disgust. "It's a stupid name, for it's no game at all. It's deadly serious. There is an essence, an energy, that's released when we die. If one of us kills another, the killer gains that essence. Each gain makes us stronger, harder to kill, more... powerful. We have no knowledge of why we are, of what or who we are. The single rule we live by have says that we have to keep killing each other until there's only one of us left." She looked horrified. "Duncan! That's..." she broke off, groping for a kinder way to say what he knew she was thinking. "Insane?" He supplied. "I know. I decided that a long, long time ago. I've tried to avoid it, but sometimes, when they hunt me down, I can't." "Dane! He was one of you? That finally begins to make sense. He was an immortal, like you!" Duncan nodded, his expression bleak. "He was." "And the woman Dane tortured, your lover, the one you told me about, she was too?" He closed his eyes briefly, and nodded again. "So when you killed her, you gained this... power, from her? Oh Duncan, no wonder you felt so guilty! That's horrible!" He shuddered. "It was one of the worst things I've ever had to do. But she *asked* me. I couldn't refuse her." "I know. We've been through this, you know I don't fault you for it. Duncan, this explains so much that never quite made sense! The way you reacted to certain things, way you feel..." "The way I feel?" he queried, clearly curious. "Your presence, your `aura,' if you will, is so much stronger than that of most humans. I never understood why, before, now I do. It also explains why I felt something similar from Dane. And it tells me what Evan Conroy was trying to *gain* by those killings." "Dane had convinced him that he could become one of us by killing. It wouldn't have worked, of course. The only way to become an Immortal is to be born one. But Evan wanted it so badly, he believed Dane when he told him that," he shook his head, sadly. "Poor Evan. He's not the first to want immortality, nor will he be the last. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to find out the hard way that it's not all it's cracked up to be." Guinan looked at him quietly for a moment, her eyes narrowed. "Having a hard time with it, are you?" He slouched back in his chair and nodded. "Aye. Sometimes I wonder if I haven't lived long enough." She sighed, looking off into some unknown distance. "I know what you mean. I've felt that. It's hard not to, sometimes. You wonder why you're still here when so many others aren't, you wonder what purpose you serve." "Exactly." He was surprised to realize how good it felt to talk like this, to have someone *understand* what he felt, and know it wasn't just lip service. She'd been there. She *knew.* "I'm glad we met again, I've never been happy with the way we parted." "Me either. The funny thing is, you and I *could* have told each other our secrets then, and been better off! But we didn't realize it." "That's the thing about secrets. They isolate us, even when they don't need to." He put hand behind his neck, trying to massage out the tension there, and flexed his shoulders. That led to a yawn, and he shot an apologetic glance her way. "Sorry, I'm tired. I've been trying to keep my ship running on chewing gum and bailing wire since she went down. It's been a long five days." "It was your ship that went down on Koto Barani?" Guinan asked, then seconds later she shook her head and answered her own question. "Of course, where else could you have come from? What happened?" "I honestly don't know. The Darius was an old ship, but she was in good shape, and we never had any kind of engine problems before. And it wasn't just the engines, either. It was *everything*. Engines, navigation, hell, even the *replicators* went offline! The only system that didn't fail was life-support. If I could think of a reason *why*, I might suspect someone sabotaged the ship. But what I was carrying wouldn't be valuable to anyone but the Valhallans. There's no logical reason for anyone to sabotage my ship." "Duncan, a ship doesn't have to be old to have systems failures. We have them all the time! In fact, if I hear Geordi grousing about the starboard power coupling one more time, I'll *scream*! Sometimes things just happen. Don't let yourself get paranoid." "You're right, of course. I just want someone to blame for Jeremy's death besides myself. And no, you don't have to remind me that it wasn't my fault. I know it already." He leaned back, and closed his eyes for a moment, as much to shut out her sympathy as to rest for a moment. "You are tired, aren't you? Why don't you go to your quarters and rest?" He opened his eyes and sat forward again. "I was hungry, I asked Barclay where I could get dinner." "But you've taken care of that now?" "I did, thanks." "So, what's the *real* reason?" He stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me... El- Aurians are telepathic." "Not exactly, but sort of. Enough to know when someone's lying to me, in any case." He grinned wryly, shaking his head. "It figures. All right, I admit it. I'm trying to avoid Dr. Crusher." "Why?" "I don't want her finding out what I am, and if I set foot in sickbay, she'll know something's up. She thinks she needs to examine me and she won't believe me when I tell her I'm fine." Guinan chuckled. "That's our Beverly all right. But you could have gone straight to your quarters and gotten both rest and food... they did assign you quarters, right?" "Probably, but I haven't a clue where. After I checked in my cargo with Lieutenant Barclay, he took me to Ten Forward, and then he had to leave. Frankly, I'm a bit lost here. My ship was big enough for me, and my first officer, and that's about it. The Enterprise is a blessed floating *city*. Besides, even if they *have* assigned me quarters, I can't go there, because then she'll know where to find me." "True, but you can't avoid her forever." He grinned. "No, but I might just be able to avoid her until I can think of a good way to put her off." Guinan laughed, and the rich, throaty sound took him back years. It was somehow fitting that he'd met her again in a bar. She glanced up at something over his left shoulder, then back at him. "Look, I have to get back to Ten-Forward, there's a new shift about to start and I need to be there. You're welcome to stay here if you like. She won't be able to find you here, and you can sleep. I won't be back for hours. How does that sound?" He sighed. "Like heaven, but you're sure I'm not putting you out?" "What are old friends for? Beverly will probably be annoyed with me, but I'll pretend I didn't know she was looking for you. The bedroom and bathroom are that way," she pointed. "Feel free to use both. The replicator's in the corner there if you get hungry again." She stood up, and he rose as well, reaching out to catch her hand. "Thank you, I know you've no reason to trust me, not after all this time. I appreciate it more than I can say." She gazed at him for a long moment, then her eyelids hid her all-too- expressive eyes from him. "The fact that you once risked your life to save mine might have some bearing on the matter. I'll see you in a few hours." On that note, she left. He looked around, not wanting to pry, but curious about her tastes. The compartment seemed peculiarly muted, like her clothing. He saw no *past* in her room, no mementos, no artifacts... nothing that betrayed the fact that she, like he, had more years than met the eye. He found that rather odd, considering the fact that unlike him, she *lived* here. There seemed barely more possessions than would fit into a couple of carryalls. Feeling somewhat of an intruder, he went to the bedroom. Like the sitting room, her bedroom was almost spartan. Her bed was wide, though, and looked comfortable, covered with what looked like a down comforter, and piled with pillows. He touched it, and found it firm, but yielding. He sat down, and started to lie back, then changed his mind. Shower first. He hadn't had a bath in days, and he'd had too many centuries of etiquette drummed into him to do something that inconsiderate. He got up and headed for the bathroom. **** Guinan paused a moment outside her quarters and reached up to touch her headdress. After a moment's hesitation, she slipped it off. For some reason she wanted to be the Guinan she had been when she had first met Duncan, rather than the Guinan she had become in the intervening years. It felt odd to take it off, as if she had removed a shield from between herself and the rest of the world. She hadn't realized she'd been doing that. Funny how you could help everyone else with their problems and still not be able to see your own. It had been four hours since she had left him in her quarters. For most of that time she'd fought the urge to go check on him. She'd finally given in, realizing it was in part simply the need to make sure she hadn't imagined it all. She ran a hand through her hair, which she still wore in a multitude of sleek braids, as she had all those years ago. A crewman passed and glanced at her briefly, then stared. She forced herself to nod politely, and he looked embarrassed and moved on. He'd probably never seen her without her head covered before. Very few people aboard the ship ever had. She looked down at herself, and realized she'd been hiding behind her clothes as well. She hadn't denied herself lovely colors or textures, but she had chosen styles as androgenous as a J'naii's. It was as if with the death of her world, she had tried to deny her own love of life. She had become prematurely old, dispensing wisdom and empathy, but refusing anything in return. Only now did she begin to see how empty that was. She sighed and entered her quarters, quietly, leaving the lights low. He was there. She could sense him, sleeping, and didn't want to disturb him. She sat down for a few moments on the couch and tried to relax, but she felt as if she were a cat someone had been petting backwards.... full of static electricity and on edge. This was ridiculous! Just plain silly! She got up to return to Ten-Forward, and stopped. She had to go look. She had to see him with her eyes, not just her Othersense. He was sprawled out on her bed in the boneless relaxation of deep sleep. Judging from the amount of skin showing here and there beneath the rumpled covers, he was naked. She kept her eyes on his face. It was funny how all men seemed to have the ability to look incredibly innocent when they slept, no matter how old or how experienced they actually were. Duncan was definitely no exception. She noticed again that he had incredibly long eyelashes. They probably rivaled Deanna's. In fact, he had a rather Betazoid look about him, that sort of same unconscious grace and sensuality. She made a face. `Stop thinking about sensuality, Guinan,' she admonished herself silently. `It's not a good idea.' Shaking her head, she turned to leave, and brushed against the small table next to the door. It rattled, and he stirred at the sound, rolling onto his stomach. She froze, and watched him for long moments until she was sure he wasn't going to wake up. Finally reassured, she relaxed, but she didn't stop watching him. Damn, the man was surely a work of art. He looked awfully good lying there in her bed, his skin seeming dark against the creamy linens. It was so tempting to just reach over and see if he felt as good as he looked. `No! No, no, no! You *will* stop that,' she told herself sternly. `He's *off limits*. He's a human, he's just a baby, and you're a... ' She stopped suddenly, and felt as if someone had just turned on a light. She was thinking in the past! He wasn't just a baby, he was a good two- hundred years her senior! This wasn't twentieth-century Earth, and she wasn't on a research visit any more. There were no rules to follow, save those she made herself. This was now, here, and there was no reason on earth why she shouldn't indulge herself, should the opportunity present itself. A smile curved her mouth. This could be fun. She stepped out into her sitting room again, and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She studied her reflection, dissatisfied with it. This wasn't who she wanted to be right now. After a moment's thought she went to the replicator and began to program it. **** Deanna stretched and sighed, wiggling her toes in her uniform boots, wishing she'd changed clothes before coming down to Ten-Forward for dinner. Toes were *not* meant to be cramped up in shoes all day. They were meant to go barefoot on soft carpets of grass. She indulged in a brief fantasy of that, and had just gotten to the part where she was about to wade into a crystal-clear stream when she became aware that she was no longer alone. She glanced up, and had to look twice before she recognized the woman who stood by her side. "*Guinan?*" she asked incredulously. The woman nodded, a mass of dark braids bouncing as she did, and she smiled. Her smile was instantly recognizable even if the rest of her wasn't. "What can I do for you?" she asked, still smiling. "Me?" Deanna managed, weakly, taking in the changes. Gone was the halo-esque cap, and matronly tunic-and-trouser combination she had affected ever since Deanna had known her. In its place was a flowing and highly flattering vest-like garment of painted silk over a snug-fitting teal bodysuit. Somehow she looked years younger, and both less and more approachable. Guinan smiled. "Don't you usually want something when you come in here? What'll it be?" "Oh, yes. Well, I... Guinan! What have you *done*?" Guinan laughed. "I needed a change. I was tired of being Our Lady of Ten-Forward." Deanna sat forward, letting her empathic senses range out, and was startled by what she found. Guinan obviously sensed her probe, because she shook her finger in mock-reproach. "Now, now, Deanna Troi, you know that's not polite!" Deanna grinned. "It's not, but it works. Who is he?" Guinan grinned back. "A very, *very* old friend." "One of your people?" "Not... exactly." "I want to meet him!" "You will, I'm sure. In fact, Beverly's probably going to ask you to try to bring him into sickbay for her." Deanna stared at her, puzzled. "Why? Is he ill?" "No, he just doesn't like doctors." "Now that's not true, doctors are fine people, I just don't happen to *need* one." =========================================================================