========================================================================= Date: Thu, 7 Mar 1996 12:20:38 -0500 Reply-To: LC Krakowka Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: LC Krakowka Subject: Long Lost 5/5 The next morning, Adam arrived at the dojo expecting to spar with Duncan. Instead, he found Sarah and Richie, dueling yet again. They stopped as he entered and Sarah flashed him a smile that nearly melted his heart. He flushed, "Duncan and I had a spar planned." "Mac had some business to take care of at the university," Richie said. "I'll go with you if you want." Adam chuckled at the thought, "Okay," he took off his coat and got out his sword, making some stretching moves. "Kid, you'd better let me take this one on," Sarah said suddenly. Adam cocked his head at her, wondering if she was still mad at him and was looking to vent some frustration. "You up for this, Old Man?" She asked. "Sure thing, luv." Sarah grabbed the roll of athletic tape and wound it around her left wrist a few times, adding to the layers already there, before tearing it with her teeth and repeating her actions on the right hand. "Don't you pull any punches. I won't be." Adam snickered struck out at her, before she had the chance to fully prepare herself. Sarah brought her sword up quickly and skittered out if his way. She countered with an upwards swing that he deflected easily and danced out of his way as he sliced back. Richie leaned against the pillar, watching as they paced back and forth, engaging each other alternately. Their swords rang together loudly and he realized that Adam had indeed been holding back the many times he had sparred with Duncan. He and Sarah seemed pretty evenly matched skill wise, though it was obvious that Adam's strength was greater. Their swords locked near the hilts, with the tips digging into the floor and Adam noticed Sarah's muscles straining to hold his there. "You know you can't hold out longer than I can," he said. She smirked at him, then spun, using the penned up momentum of his swing to accelerate the elbow aimed at his jaw. He staggered backwards from the blow and took a moment to recuperate. "Ow, Sarie," he said, rubbing his chin. She leaned over a few steps away, catching her breath. "That's one you taught me Petey, I can't believe you fell for it." He grunted and raised his sword again. "I didn't realize we were fighting dirty." Richie silently thanked whatever gods were listening that Sarah hadn't been serious about fighting him the night they had met. She was giving Adam a run for his money. "I told you," Sarah charged him and forced him back a few steps, "no pulled punches." Adam responded to that by kicking her feet out from underneath her. Sarah landed hard on her back, but managed to roll away before he could plant a foot on her sword hand. She scrambled to her feet, breathing hard, and spun around just barely in time to block the blow aimed at her shoulder. He wasted no time in engaging her again, striking alternating high and low blows with a force that was driving her backwards across the room. She was meeting his swings, but loosing ground. With a chuckle, Richie suddenly realized what Adam was doing; wearing her out while at the same time moving her toward a corner, so she wouldn't be able to use that pivot punch again. Sarah knew it too, but he wasn't giving her the chance to move in any direction except backwards. Their swords locked for a moment and she stomped on his instep, following through with a punch to the abdomen with the butt of her sword. Adam sucked in a ragged breath and narrowed his eyes at her. Sarah saw the glare and was tempted to use her hilt to punctuate an upper cut to the jaw, knowing it would probably knock him out. But, she didn't have time to execute her plan. He swung at her feet, forcing her to leap upwards, and she landed off balance. That was all he needed. They traded a few more blows, but locked in a downward stroke identical to the one that had nearly cost her her head against Martin. Adam's strength finally won out and her wrists gave way under the weight. Sarah's sword clattered to the floor. Unfortunately, Adam had been bearing down too hard, counting on her weight to balance his own and wasn't able to check the force of his blade. Sarah threw herself to one side, but his sword bit deeply into her thigh. He threw the sword away and knelt down next to her, staunching the blood with his hands. "Richie, get a towel!" Richie hesitated for half a second, then dashed for the elevator. "Sarie, are you okay?" She ground her jaw against the pain, but nodded. "I think my wrist is broken, but I'm okay." "I'm sorry. Are you sure you're all right?" She looked up at him and nodded again. "Set my wrist, before it heals wrong?" He peeked under his hands at the wound on her leg. On a mortal, it would take about twenty stitches to close, but the bleeding had all ready let up some. "Okay, but it's going to hurt." She nodded again and unwound the tape on her left wrist. Adam took her wrist in his hands, once the pressure from the tape was off, it began to swell almost immediately. "Ready?" Sarah set her jaw and looked away as he gave a twisting tug that snapped the bones back into place audibly. She went pale and held her breath for a moment to block out the pain, then looked at him and smiled weakly. "Thanks." "It's the least I could do," Adam winked at her and leaned on her thigh again to reapply pressure to the wound. "You've gotten good." "In six hundred years, I should hope so," she responded, relieved to feel the warm glow that always filled her body during healings. "But, here you are, covered in my blood again." He turned his head to look at her and their noses brushed. "I can't think of anyone else's blood I'd rather be covered in." Sarah smiled and leaned her forehead against his. "It's good to have you back, Petey." "I brought the towels," Richie ran back into the room and sank down next to them. "Are you okay Sarah?" "You know," she looked at him and grinned, "sometimes it's really hard to resist the temptation to say 'relax, I'll live'." Adam chuckled and covered her wound with a towel, still leaning on it. "Petey and I have done this a thousand times," she continued. "You guys always spar that hard?" Richie asked, amazed. "Well, generally I try to avoid dismembering her, but yes," Adam said, smirking at Sarah. "It's how we made a living for a while there," she said. "You guys fought for money?" Richie asked, handing Adam a clean towel. "Sure, if it were the Middle Ages, wouldn't you pay to see a woman give a man a good fight?" Adam looked at her leg and decided it was healing fine before applying the fresh towel. "So what, you guys like rigged the fights?" Sarah nodded. "Sort of, we had a friend who would make bets with the crowd and split the profits with us." "The fights were only rigged in that, mid way through, he would give us the signal to let us know which one of us had more money wagered on them, and to win or to loose accordingly," Adam added. "Up until that point, it was any body's game." Richie laughed. "Am I the only immortal who doesn't have a cool past?" Sarah and Adam looked at each other, then turned to him and said, in perfect union "You don't even have a past yet." *** "So, what do you think's gonna happen between those two?" Richie asked Duncan. Mac spun around on his stool and followed Richie's gaze across the bar to the corner booth where Adam and Sarah sat. Their table was covered with a mixture of papers, empty beer glasses, and plates and they were sitting close to one another, engrossed in a quiet debate over dates. Joe had asked them to collaborate and fill in some gaps in files related to their own and they had been playfully arguing back and forth for hours. "Do you think he'll ever tell her how he feels?" Mac shrugged. "She knows how he feels, and she feels the same way--she just hasn't realized it yet." "How do you know that?" "Just look at them, Richie." "But how can you be in love with someone and not know it?" Richie drained his glass and motioned to Joe for a refill. "It happens all the time," Joe said. "Those two were lost to each other for so long...they just need a chance to catch up..." "Then what?" "Just how young are you, kid? Do we need to explain that too?" Joe teased, snapping a towel at him and heading for the tap. Duncan laughed to himself as a lull in the general noise level of the room allowed him a glimpse into the conversation in the booth. "I'm telling you, it was September, 1287," Sarah said emphatically. "I think I ought to know when I fought the guy, thank you very much," Adam responded. "It was March." "It was September," she insisted. "We had barley stew afterwards." "It was March, and the stew was rabbit." "I was wearing short sleeves...it was September." "It was March." "March? In Norway? Short sleeves? C'mon." "You were wearing my woolen cloak." Sarah threw up her hands in capitulation and flopped back in her seat. "Fine, have it your way...." [End] copyright, 1996-Lisa Krakowka -- LC Krakowka /215 CCC/255-5378/ hck1@cornell.edu CIT Learning Technologies Center/Lab Webmistress http://krakowka.cit.cornell.edu/hpage/lisa.html Duct tape is like the force. It has a light side, a dark side, and it binds the universe together.