Date: Mon, 7 Nov 1994 07:26:20 -0500 Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Rene Gibson Organization: ALPHATECH, INC. Subject: Long Lifelines (A HL/FK story) (02/06) * * * France, 1721. As Connor walked along the Paris street, enjoying the cool night air, he thought about the nice, warm bed awaiting him back at the inn. Looking down, he made certain to step around a rather large mud puddle in the road, a leftover from the day's rain. He brushed some lint off his clothes and reflected on how nice the swashbuckling fashions were now. Unfortunately, they did not go well with mud. Suddenly, he heard a commotion. It sounded like men fighting. He hurried toward the sound to see what it was and to offer his help if needed. When he arrived in the narrow, dead-end street, Connor found three men beating a fourth. Thinking back to the evening in the tavern, Connor remembered the four playing cards. The three had been cheating the fourth, who had somehow managed to win money from them anyway. Although he had not won much, the fourth man announced his intention to stop for the night and had politely departed. Connor had not paid attention to when the other three had left--shortly afterward apparently. "This'll teach you to take money from us," one man snarled before backhanding his victim across the face. "I won it fairly," the victim managed and was rewarded with another slap. "Shut up! Just give us our money," another man demanded. Having heard enough, Connor decided to intervene. He drew his sword and approached the group. "Leave him alone. He won the money fairly, even though you kept trying to cheat him." One of the men started toward Connor. "And just who are you?" "Someone who doesn't like to see people treated unjustly," Connor said. "I don't want any trouble. Just leave him alone and there won't be any problem," he said, but he knew it was pointless to try. The man obviously wanted to fight. Drawing his sword, the man continued toward Connor. His two friends began to follow suit. "It's too bad you don't want trouble. You've got it now." Aggressively, he sprang forward to attack, his friends not far behind. As the fight ensued, Connor was holding them off, but only barely. It was late and he was tired; he would need help if he were to win. Normally, he could get away easily enough, but that would not work this time. The man they had beaten would still be here for them to prey on again. So he had to stay and fight, but he could use some help. Help came shortly in the form of tall blond man with a sword. Briefly surveying the situation, the man quickly joined the fray on Connor's side. The fight ended soon enough after that. The newcomer was skilled with a sword and seemed to enjoy the altercation immensely. When Connor and the newcomer had chased off the last of the robbers, they helped the victim up and saw him safely on his way. Turning to the newcomer, Connor said, "Thanks for your help." Holding out his hand, he said, "I'm Jeremie Gallien." The stranger shook his hand. "Nicholas de Brabant." "Can I buy you a drink?" The newcomer smiled politely. "Maybe some other time." After exchanging parting pleasantries, they went their separate ways. * * * France, 1730. Glancing across the table at Jeremie, Nicholas thought about the interesting situations to two had managed to get into--and out of--over the past ten years. They had only run into each other occasionally, maybe once or twice a year, but it had been amusing. Both the swordfights and the conversations had been intriguing, but now it was time to part ways permanently. It would not do for Jeremie to notice the fact Nicholas never aged. He doubted the other would understand about vampires, even if Nicholas were inclined to explain. "I'm leaving soon for England. I won't be returning for a long time." Nicholas said. Oddly, Jeremie seemed relieved. "I'm going to America myself. I doubt I'll be back at all." He paused briefly, then stood to leave. Holding out his hand, he said, "Long life, my friend." Nicholas shook the offered hand. "And you." As he watched Jeremie leave, he wondered why Jeremie had been relieved to discover they would probably never see each other again. * * * Nick knew the man staring back at him could not still be alive, but the shocked look told Nick the recognition was mutual. But the man simply could not be Jeremie Gallien. How could Jeremie have survived the past 260 years? He had not been a vampire and this man, eating a bagel absentmindedly, was no vampire either. So who could he be? Oblivious to everything else, Nick started to cross the street to find out. "Nick!" Schanke yelled. Nick stopped abruptly, just in time to avoid being hit by an early morning commuter bus. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to think more rationally. When he opened his eyes a few seconds later, the bus was gone--and so was the other man. "You okay?" The concern in Schanke's voice was obvious. Nick knew he had been acting a bit odd since they had started investigating the beheading. Nick turned to Schanke. "Where did he go?" "Who? The guy across the street? I don't know. I missed him when you almost walked in front of the bus. What's with you anyway?" Nick shook his head. "I don't know. He just looked like someone I once knew, an old friend. I've got to go find out--" "Not now, you shouldn't. It's almost sunrise. You'll get a nasty sunburn." Looking toward the east disgustedly, Nick said, "Yeah, you're right. I'll try flipping through the phone book when I get home." He paused a few seconds, then smiled and added, "Oh, yeah. Thanks for the warning about the bus." Schanke grinned. "Hey, no problem. What are partners for? Besides, at least you didn't attack the bus like you did the last time you saw someone you thought you knew." Smiling, Nick got in his car to head home. He decided Natalie might be able to help him. He HAD to know if the man he had seen was Jeremie. * * * For the second time in eight hours, Connor had barely escaped in time. The bus had provided just the diversion he had needed. But why was the other man not following him? He and a second man had just come out of the police station. Were they cops? Were the police after him? "Nick" the second man had said. Nicholas? It couldn't be; Nicholas de Brabant would have died over 200 years ago. He was not Immortal; Connor would have felt that. But he had stared at Connor as if he had recognized him too. Impossible--but the name was right. He HAD to find out what was going on. What else had the second man called Nick? Knight? He would look up the name in a phone book and find out the address. How many Nick Knights could there be? * * * Nick waited until Natalie was at work that morning to call her. "Coroner's office. Natalie Lambert speaking." "Hi, Nat. It's Nick. I need to ask a favor." "Sure, Nick. What do you need?" "I need you to see if you can find some information about someone." "Who?" "Jeremie Gallien. He's around 35, about 5'11", short brown hair, blue eyes." "Okay, I wrote that down. I'll call you when I'm done." "Thanks, Nat." "No problem." Natalie called Nick back early that evening. "Nick? Sorry to disappoint you, but I didn't find any information on Jeremie Gallien or anyone who matched the description you gave me." "It was a shot in the dark anyway. Thanks, Nat." "Anytime. What did you want the information for?" "He's an old friend. I thought I saw him this morning, but we sort of missed each other. I was just trying to find him." "Well, sorry I couldn't help." "That's okay. He was probably just passing through town anyway." "Is this an OLD friend of yours that we're talking about?" From the way Nat had emphasized the word "old", Nick knew she was asking if Jeremie were a vampire. "Sort of, but not quite. I'm not really sure." "Come on, Nick. I'm dying of curiosity here." "Maybe later, Nat. Not just yet." "All right. I'll give in this time." "Thanks, Nat." Unfortunately, Nick had had a feeling Nat would come up empty handed. After all, he had asked for information on a man who should not even exist. Now where could he look? He had the night off, but where could he start? Then he remembered: Janette. She had seemed rather interested in Jeremie when they had first met. She should remember him. * * * Connor watched the green Caddy leave. Starting his car, he followed the Caddy at what he hoped was a good distance for not being noticed, even by a possible cop. * * * When Nick arrived at The Raven, Janette greeted him. "Bonsoir, Nicholas," she said enticingly. "What brings you here tonight? Hmm?" Accustomed to Janette's charms, Nick just smiled and got to the point. "I'm looking for someone." "One of us?" She emphasized the last word hopefully. "No. Human. Jeremie Gallien." Disappointed, Janette shook her head. "I don't know many humans. Or I try not to." Undaunted, Nick continued. "He was a friend of mine. You met him in France about 260 years ago." He looked at her slyly. "You mentioned bringing him over. You said you liked his eyes." Janette looked slightly thoughtful. "Jeremie. Jeremie. The name sounds vaguely familiar, but..." she trailed off, shrugging. "Nicholas. You know I never cared much about THEM. Mortals can be SO uninteresting." "I'm not so sure he's mortal." At Janette's renewed interest he added, "I saw someone today that I would swear was him." "What makes you so certain? It's been a long time." "The look on his face. He recognized me too. I'm sure of it." "Maybe he's a vampire. Someone else could have brought him over," Janette suggested helpfully. "No, definitely not. When I first saw him, he was eating a bagel--absentmindedly." Janette shuddered at the thought. "Ugh. I haven't seen him, but I'll let you know if he happens to wander in here." Smiling, Nick said, "Thanks, Janette." He nibbled on her hand suggestively, smiled, and headed to the door. * * * Waiting patiently in his car, Connor watched Nick leave The Raven and drive off. Since he knew where Nick lived, there was no need to follow him now. Connor made sure his sword was secure and well hidden under his coat. Although he was certain Nick could not be an Immortal, there was no other way to explain how he had lived so long; Connor carried the sword just in case. He got out of the car and walked across the street toward the club. Maybe someone in there could tell him something. Inside, The Raven was dark and the music loud. Connor noticed many of the patrons seemed rather thin and pale. It seemed odd to see so many thin, pale people in one place. Glancing around, wondering who might have some answers for him, Connor wandered toward the bar. He opened his mouth to question the bartender, when a voice behind him asked, "Looking for someone in particular?" Connor spun around and stared in shock. That voice sounded familiar... * * * =========================================================================