Date: Tue, 8 Nov 1994 17:51:28 -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) (06/06) * * * Listening carefully, Connor returned to eating. Many strange things had happened in the past several days. He hoped Nick's explanation would solve a few mysteries. "Vampires are immortal, similar to you being Immortal, but different. We aren't born this way--we're 'brought over', changed into vampires by other vampires. Theoretically, we can become mortal again, but becoming a vampire seems to be a difficult process to reverse," he said. Connor noticed the sad wistfulness in Nick's voice as he spoke the last sentence. "You've tried," he said. When Nick nodded, Connor also noted the look of failure on Natalie's face. Apparently, this was something they had attempted, but failed. At least Nick has that option, Connor thought. I don't. "One of the ways we can be killed is by decapitation--like you--which is why I was so concerned about the two beheadings. I thought there might be a vampire hunter in the city." "But there are other ways you can die?" Connor asked curiously. "A few: a wooden stake through the heart; fire." "Direct sunlight?" "Yes. Why?" Connor shrugged. "Just curious. I know something about vampires, but not enough. And some of what I know is wrong. I was comparing how we're alike and how we're not." Smiling, Nick continued. "Our nervous systems don't react to pain the way everyone else's do. The bullet simply wouldn't have hurt me much and it certainly wouldn't have bled like that. In fact, it wouldn't have bled much at all." "True," mentioned Natalie. "I took a bullet out of Nick's shoulder one day recently." With a smile she added, "It was much neater, believe me." "That sounds better than simply healing quickly," noted Connor, wincing as he moved his shoulder slightly to test it. Frowning, he asked, "What about blood? Do you really drink blood?" "I need to to survive; I don't have a choice. At one time, I killed when I felt like it. Then only when I needed to. As I began to feel the killing was wrong, I only took criminals as my victims; I convinced myself they deserved it. About a hundred years ago, I stopped killing altogether." He paused a bit to consider what he had just said. "Well, I don't kill to feed, anyway." "Then what do you drink if you have to have blood to survive?" Nick hesitated a moment before answering. "Cow's blood. I get it from a local slaughterhouse. They think I'm a gourmet chef," he said with a smile. A vampire with a conscience; Nick spoke as if he were unique in his views. Connor would look up more information on vampires later, but he wondered how much that would tell him about the man sitting across from him. At the moment, however, he needed to address another problem. "If you've needed to kill to survive, why can't you understand my problem," asked Connor. "You don't sound like you want to kill any more than I do, but at one time it was necessary. It still is for me." "Maybe if you explained more about Immortals, I might be able to understand better," Nick suggested. Connor nodded and began. * * * Nick wondered how much of Connor's explanation would sound as fantastic to him as his explanation must have sounded to Connor. "Unlike you," Connor began. "We're born different. We're not really immortal to begin with--we have to 'die' first. After that, we don't age and we heal very quickly." Glancing at Connor's wound, Nick noticed it was already half healed. Natalie went over to check the wound more closely. "Amazing. This is similar to how Nick heals, but different too." Curiously she asked, "Do you mind if I do an analysis of your blood? I'd like to see how different you are from us." Smiling, Connor said, "Sure, but I don't think you'll find anything really different. People have looked before." He paused before continuing. "We can't have children; my parents weren't immortal, none of my family was. It's just a random fluke. There aren't many of us and we can't 'make' more." "How sad," said Natalie. From the look on Connor's face, Nick could tell there was a bit more to it than that. Did Connor long to be married and have a family too? But Nick said nothing while he waited for Connor to take a deep breath and continue. "We play something we call The Game. It's good versus evil where the winner takes the loser's head." "You go around cutting off people's heads all the time?" This was a disturbing development. Just when Nick was beginning to see his old friend Jeremie in Connor... "You only mentioned the fighting before--not the killing. You normally go around killing people?" "We don't have a choice. We have to play the Game until only one of us survives. Even if I didn't want to fight, the pull of the Gathering draws us together, forcing us to confront one another. Even if I tried to stay out of the Game, in the end there would be me and one other. Then that one would seek me out to fight; he or she would have to. It's the only way to end the Game." "And there's no way of avoiding this?" Natalie asked. The look on Connor's face was very tired as he continued. "No. The last surviving Immortal gets the Prize--all the power of all the Immortals who ever lived. If an evil Immortal were to win, it would mean great suffering for mankind. I can't let that happen." Frowning at Connor, Nick asked, "Just how much power are we talking about?" "With the Prize, someone could rule the world forever." Considering the vampire sitting opposite him, Connor added thoughtfully, "I think one evil Immortal with the Prize could cause more pain and suffering than all the vampires combined. Still unconvinced, Nick said, "I need blood to survive, but I learned not to kill. You obviously don't have the same problem. There must be some way to live other than fighting and killing." Suddenly, Connor laughed morosely. "Sure. There's an alternative to fighting: Dying. Unlike you, I can't become mortal. I can only fight or die." "Hell of a choice," Natalie noted. Nick listened thoughtfully. There was a lot more to being an Immortal than just living a long time. Trying to get his point across, Connor asked, "Haven't you ever had to do something you didn't want to? Something you had no control over?" Abruptly, unbidden, thoughts of Natalie's brother Richard surfaced in Nick's mind. Natalie had asked--begged--him to bring Richard over because he had been dying from a bullet wound. Richard had always been a good man; he had been shot trying to stop a gunman. Because he had wanted to help people, he had worked as a crown prosecutor when he could have been working at a much higher paying job elsewhere. But making him a vampire had made him overzealous and dangerous. In the end, Nick had had to kill Richard. Nick had not wanted to; he had had no choice. Richard's continued "life" had caused more grief than his death. Glancing at Natalie, he noticed she was watching him. He wondered if she were thinking the same thing. Understanding dawned. It occurred to Nick that Connor was more like him than he had realized. Although both worked on the side of good, there were dark things each had to do for reasons beyond their control; reasons that had more to do with WHAT they were than with WHO they were. Finally, Nick nodded. "Yes, I have. And I'm beginning to understand. You have about as much control over what you are as I do. And about as little liking for it sometimes." Relieved, Connor nodded. Shortly afterward, Natalie left for home to get some sleep. Nick and Connor continued their conversation for a while. "What would you do if you won the Prize?" Nick asked curiously. Connor looked at him surprised. "If *I* won?" Nick nodded. Shrugging, Connor said, "I don't know. I've never thought about it." Pausing a bit to think, he continued, "I just want to keep an evil Immortal from winning." "Yes, but that means a good Immortal must win," Nick pointed out. "What if it were you?" Connor just shook his head. "I don't know." Seeing that Connor was perplexed, Nick dropped the subject. He was amused to think that maybe Connor was just the one to win the Prize after all. "What brought you to Toronto?" Nick asked curiously. "I'm tracking an evil Immortal. He might be after a friend of mine." Nick noted there was something Connor was not telling him; something about either the evil Immortal or the friend. But Nick let it go. He had not told Connor everything either. "I saw the first beheading on the news and came here to see if the Immortal I'm looking for did it. He didn't." Nick said, "If you gave me a description of the person you're after, I might be able to find some information in the police computer." Raising an eyebrow, Connor looked at him suspiciously. "Who's making the offer? Cop or friend?" "Friend," Nick replied with a smile. Nodding gratefully, Connor gave Nick the information about Slan. Afterward, Nick saw that Connor was even more exhausted than he had been two mornings ago. "You can sleep there on the sofa for tonight." Connor laughed slightly. "Again?" Smiling back, Nick said, "I insist, but as a voluntary guest this time. You're too tired to go anywhere and it's kind of late to check into a hotel." "True," said Connor thoughtfully. "And I don't have a car. I left mine parked near The Raven." "I had Janette take care of it. I'll ask her to bring it later." "Thanks. I'd like to go back to a hotel tomorrow." Nick nodded. "I'm going to hang onto your sword while you're in Toronto." As Connor protested, Nick held up a hand to stop him and continued. "I trust you, but I want to make sure no one else finds it on you, not with these decapitations still 'unresolved'. Besides, are you likely to run into any more Immortals here so soon?" "No," Connor admitted. "I just hate being without my sword. I'll be able to take it with me when I leave?" "Yes." "All right," said Connor, accepting Nick's conditions. Curling up on the sofa, he was asleep a short time later. * * * The next evening at work, Nick ran into Schanke. "Howdy, partner. How do you feel?" Schanke seemed enthusiastic, Nick noted. "Fine, Schank. It must have just been one of those twenty- four hour bugs or something." "Say, some beat cops said they ran into you last night." Thinking quickly, Nick said, "I popped out briefly to the drug store to get something to feel better and ran into a holdup on the way." Smiling, Nick hoped Schanke believed him. Lies could be a problem when they caught up with a person. Changing the subject, he asked, "Find out anything new on our murder investigations?" Schanke shook his head. "Nothing. We just have to wait till he tries again. If he doesn't, I wonder if we'll ever know what happened." "I don't know, Schank." Privately, Nick was pleased; he had gone over the site of Richter's beheading thoroughly to make sure there were no clues pointing to Connor. Although Nick himself had solved the murders, he could not tell anyone; he WOULD not tell about Connor's involvement and he COULD not tell about Richter without bringing Connor into it. But maybe he could use the fact the murders were unsolved to his--and Connor's-- advantage. "Schank? Were there decapitation murders in other cities either before or after the ones here?" Hopefully no other recent decapitations had been Connor's doing and maybe at least one had been Slan's work. Schanke looked thoughtful. "I don't know. Let's find out," he said, leading the way to a computer terminal. On the way, he asked, "Hey, did you ever find that guy you thought you recognized? The guy you almost got yourself run over trying to chase?" Nick wanted to tell Schanke as little as possible, just in case. "Umm, yeah. It turns out he just looked a lot like someone I knew. It wasn't really him." "That's too bad. You know, I like running into old friends. Did I ever tell you about the time I ran into..." Sighing, Nick tuned Schanke out. Nick had probably heard this one before. If not, it probably sounded like several of the dozens of stories Schanke was forever telling. It was going to be a long shift. * * * The next evening, Connor dropped by Nick's place to talk for a while before Nick went to work. Apparently, Nick had told Janette that he and Connor had resolved their differences, because the seductress stopped by shortly after Connor arrived. "Bonsoir, Nicholas, Jeremie." She favored the latter with a playful smile. "Nicholas tells me you're after another Immortal. Will you be leaving soon?" Connor smiled politely. "Probably, whether Nick finds any information or not." "Why so soon?" Connor told her briefly what he had told Nick about Immortals. Then he concluded, "So I need to catch up with him before he reaches my friend." As Janette approached him, Connor knew she had something in mind. "That's too bad, Jeremie," she said. "I was hoping we'd get to know each other better." She sat on the arm of his chair and ran her fingers playfully through his hair. Curious to see where this would go, Connor played along with her game. "Did you? But it would be better if you didn't call me Jeremie anymore. I go by Russell now." "But Russell doesn't sound as nice as Jeremie." She purred the name alluringly. Connor laughed. "Russell sounds fine to me. I don't like to keep using the same name for too long." "Mmmm. I suppose it'll do." She paused, seemingly thoughtful. "I wonder what would happen if one of 'us' tried to bring over one of your kind? Hmm?" she said, posing the question innocently, stroking his cheek enticingly. So THAT was her game. Laughing he said, "Being an Immortal is bad enough. I don't think I want to be a vampire--assuming it's possible." He was too polite to mention it blatently, but in many ways being a vampire seemed worse than being an Immortal-- much worse. Since he seemed to have a choice in this matter, he was definitely declining. "Maybe you could try it on an evil Immortal, if you run into one," he suggested helpfully. "Oh, but it wouldn't be as much fun as bringing you over," she purred. "Janette," Nick warned. Sighing, Janette moved herself to another chair. "You two are no fun," she pouted. * * * "I have the information you wanted. Stop by my place around sunrise." Nick had called Connor at 3:00 AM to tell him that. There was time before sunrise, so Connor packed calmly and thought about what he would do with Slan if he caught up to him before he reached Duncan--if that were indeed where Slan was heading. He was glad to finally be on Slan's trail again. Just before sunrise, Connor checked out of the hotel and headed for Nick's place. "Hi. What did you find out?" Connor asked hopefully. Nick smiled. "Not much, but enough. The police in Chicago received a few complaints about a man fitting Slan's description causing some problems there. He may be gone by now, but at least that tells you which direction to go. And that he's not far ahead of you." Chicago. Slan was still travelling west then. Holding out his hand he said, "Thanks for your help." As Nick shook his hand, Connor said, "It was nice seeing you again. Say good-bye to Nat and Janette for me. It's been... interesting." He raised an eyebrow and grinned. Amused, Nick laughed. "It's been interesting for me too. Then next time you're in Toronto, stop by." "Sure," Connor said and turned to leave. Suddenly he wondered if he had unknowingly met any other vampires in the past. He would probably never know. "Connor?" Nick called after him. When Connor looked back, Nick said with a big grin, "Be sure not to lose your head." *** The End *** The background between Connor MacLeod and Anton Richter was inspired by flashbacks in a Highlander story by Christine Reynolds. Thanks for letting me use your stuff, Chris. :-) ------------------------------------------------------------------------- If I accidentally missed something, let me know. I mean I *think* I put part 1 in the first post, part 2 in the second, etc., but Murphy's Law and I have a loooooong history together... Please, let me know if you liked the story and what you liked. Or if there was something you didn't like, tell me what and why so I can correct it. Rene gibson@alphatech.com =========================================================================