Date: Tue, 8 Nov 1994 06:57:59 -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) (03/06) * * * France, 1728. Janette wandered into the tavern curiously. Glancing around, she noted how the oil lamps only dimly lit the room. By this time of night, there were few patrons--several of whom were lying on the rough, wooden tables in a drunken stupor. So. This is where Nicholas spends some of his time, she thought disgustedly. She wondered who he came to talk to. Certainly not the lowlifes telling drunken tales near the fire. Watching a barmaid who was tugging on her dress and trying to attract more attention, Janette decided the barmaid was definitely not Nicholas's type. Who else then? She noticed a man alone at a quiet table to one side of the room. Sitting there calmly, patiently, he seemed to be waiting for someone. Nicholas maybe? After observing him for several minutes, she decided he looked intriguing--for a mortal. Wondering if he would make an interesting vampire, she drifted over to talk to him. "Looking for someone in particular?" she purred in her most enticing voice. Startled, the man looked up at her. His mouth fell open slightly as she smiled seductively at him. Recovering quickly, he nodded. "I'm waiting for a friend." Janette reached out to stroke his face gently. "That's too bad. You have such wonderful eyes. I thought we could have some fun..." she trailed off temptingly. "Janette! Leave him be." Darn! Nicholas had arrived. "Nicholas, cheri. We were just having a little chat," she said charmingly. "I wasn't going to harm him," she lied quietly. The look on Nicholas's face was serious. "Please, Janette. Just leave us be." Sighing patiently, Janette said, "All right, mon cher... this time." She turned to leave. As she slowly made her exit, she heard Nicholas warn the man about her charms. "She'll steal your soul, my friend." It was a pity. She had heard Nicholas call him "Jeremie." Such a nice name. * * * So, Nicholas had been right: It seemed Jeremie WAS alive. Janette wondered what had brought him to The Raven. Had he been following Nicholas? "Jeremie, mon cher. How nice to see you again," Janette purred seductively. He stared at her silently--in obvious recognition--for long seconds before regaining his composure and smiling faintly. "You're mistaken. My name's Russell. Russell Nash." "As you wish 'Mr. Nash,'" said Janette, smiling sweetly. "What brings you here tonight?" He glanced around for effect. "I was just looking for a friend. He doesn't seem to be here. Maybe I'll find him another time," he concluded as he turned to leave. Certain that the eyes, voice, and accent belonged to Jeremie Gallien, the man who should not still exist, Janette was intrigued. If he were not a vampire--his slightly anxious heartbeat assured her he was not--why was he still alive? She was too curious to let him get away that easily. Besides, Nicholas would be pleased when she told him she had his prize. "Not so fast, Monsieur Gallien. We have a few things to discuss," she said bewitchingly. He turned toward her. "I told you my name isn't..." he trailed off slowly as her mental coercion began to take effect. "I know what your name is. Why don't we go back to my office and talk about it, hmm?" she purred and held out a hand invitingly. She sensed this was going to be easy, partially because he probably wanted to know what was going on as much as she did. He nodded silently, took her hand, and allowed her to lead him away. In her office, Janette made sure Jeremie was passive, unlikely to leave, before she called Nicholas. "Knight here." "Nicholas. I have something that might interest you," she said. "Information about Jeremie?" Janette smiled. "No," she said, pausing for effect. "Actually, I have Jeremie." "Where?" "In my office at The Raven. He's sitting here, very quietly, just waiting for you to come talk to him. He was ridiculously easy to coerce." Nick sounded relieved. "I'll be right over. And Janette?" "Yes, Nicholas?" "Don't do anything to him until I get there." Janette sighed. "Yes, Nicholas," and hung up. Hearing the quiet knock at the door, Janette went over to it and asked, "Who is it?" "Nick." Janette opened the door and let Nick in. Indicating the man sitting quietly on the sofa, she said, "He came wandering in shortly after you left. He claims his name is Russell Nash and, with a little bit of persuasion, he admitted his real name was Connor MacLeod. But I'm as certain as you he's Jeremie." Then she released Connor from her coercion. Connor shook his head. "Where am I?" he asked, looking around. "In my office," Janette explained. "I thought we all needed to discuss a few things." Looking at Nick, Connor stated, "You ARE Nicholas de Brabant." Nick nodded. "Just as you're Jeremie Gallien." Connor shook his head. "It's Russell Nash now. It's better if you call me that." "Why? Your real name is Connor MacLeod," Nick stated. Surprise showed on Connor's face. He obviously had no idea Janette had gotten the information from him. "Few mortals have known my real name in hundreds of years." He hesitated before continuing. "But, then, you're not mortal," he said, half accusingly. "Living so long, I find it necessary to change my name from time to time to remain inconspicuous. Don't you have the same problem?" "Yeah, but I like keeping Nicholas or some variation as my first name, since it's my real name. Most people call me Nick now, except Janette." Connor eyed Nick cautiously. "How can I be certain you really are the Nicholas I remember?" Smiling Nick said, "About 270 years ago, we met in France. You were fighting three men who had been trying to rob another man. I joined in on your side. After we won, you offered to buy me a drink for helping out." The look on Nick's face indicated it was Connor's turn. Thinking briefly, Connor seemed to be searching for an event they would all remember. "One night, I was waiting for you to meet me in a tavern. Janette came in and tried to seduce me." Eyeing Janette suspiciously, he continued to address Nick. "You warned me to avoid her. You said..." He trailed off hesitantly. "You said she was dangerous." "Yes. And you still have such nice eyes," Janette purred with a mischievous smile. "But don't worry. I won't steal your soul- -not yet." Connor stared at her, shocked, then smiled weakly in return. "I believe you're who you say you are." "Good," Nick said, his satisfied nod indicating he believed Connor too. "Now the question is: How have you survived all this time?" "I could ask you the same question," Connor countered. "You could," Nick said, still waiting for an answer. Resigned to answering first, Connor began, "I'm immortal." "Immortal," Nick said. "Just that? That's all there is to it?" "Well, there's a bit more, but not much. I simply stopped aging, I heal quickly, and I don't die." Connor paused before continuing. "It must be just a genetic fluke," he said with a shrug. "And there's no more like you?" Janette asked curiously. "No. Just me." Sensing a lie, Janette said, "Mm hmm." She raised an eyebrow at him and cocked her head a bit to the side to indicate her incredulity. Connor saw the lie would not do. "All right, there are others. We call ourselves Immortals for lack of a better term," he admitted. "But the part about it being a genetic fluke might be true. There aren't many of us." When they seemed to accept what he was saying, he asked, "Now what about you two? How have you survived for over 270 years?" "Almost 800," Nick said nonchalantly. "A bit more than that," Janette admitted vaguely. Nick smiled. "Janette and I are vampires." "Vampires?" Connor repeated hesitantly. "Mm hmm." Noting Connor's disbelief, Nick said, "It's about as believable as you being an Immortal." Connor considered that. "Maybe. I've seen many things in over 400 years, but no vampires. Vampires are just myths. How can I believe you?" He paused thoughtfully. "Then again, how can I not? Since I know you're not like me, I don't have any other explanation." But judging by the look on his face, Janette knew he was far from convinced. "How do you know we're not like you?" Nick asked curiously. Connor's expression said he did not want to tell them--but he did. "Immortals can feel each other's presence. Since I don't feel your presence, I know you're not Immortals." "And we know you're not a vampire," Janette said. "I can hear your heartbeat." She smiled innocently at his surprise. "Besides, vampires don't eat bagels," she said with disgust. Smiling Nick said, "So we have about as much--or as little-- reason to accept your explanation as you have to accept ours." Connor nodded. "True. But it still sounds impossible." "Agreed," Nick said calmly. Janette realized their claim to be vampires must be as unbelievable to Connor as his claim to be immortal--Immortal?-- was to them. She and Nick were being truthful, of course. Did that mean Connor was probably being truthful too? Since Connor had not had time to eat much, they took a break as Janette went to retrieve some snacks the club kept on hand for its human patrons. She returned just as Nick made a comment. "Living this long, I find I have to keep moving around a lot. It gets tiring after a while." "True," Connor said. "But it's the only way to stay hidden." "You Immortals just go on living forever, never dying?" Janette asked curiously. "Sure," answered Connor, a bit too quickly. A little coercion coaxed a different response out of him. "We can die by beheading." That had Nick's attention. "Beheading? How?" Hesitantly, the answer came. "Usually we prefer a sword." Nick startled Janette when he abruptly stepped forward, pulled Connor to his feet, and quickly frisked him. Almost immediately, he found a sword hidden in Conner's coat. Taking the sword, Nick gently tested the edge to see how sharp it was. Connor stared back at him defiantly, saying nothing. Janette wondered why Nick had thought to look for the sword. "It's a very nice sword," Janette said. "That can be very dangerous around vampires." "Yes, and it's very sharp." Nick frowned at Connor. "Someone was killed recently--by decapitation--with something as nice and sharp as this," Nick said accusingly. Looking at Janette apologetically, he said, "This is a police matter. I'm taking him back to my place." "You ARE the police, then. Am I under arrest?" Connor demanded. "What if I don't want to go with you?" Abruptly, Nick turned toward Connor and growled, eyes glowing, fangs out. Connor's jaw dropped and his face reflected his shock and fear. No doubt he now believes our story about being vampires, Janette thought with a smile. "You'll be cooperative," Nick said, adding a mental push behind his words to insure that cooperation. Carrying the sword under his own coat, Nick indicated the way and Connor silently obeyed. As she watched them leave, Janette wondered when--or if--she would get to hear the full story. Sighing, she wished Nick had not chosen to play cop just yet. The conversation had started getting interesting. * * * =========================================================================