Date: Tue, 29 Mar 1994 17:15:40 MST Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Wendy Milner Subject: Questionable Beginning (2/2) Questionable Beginning (2/2) Wendy L. Milner Copyright 1994 by Wendy L. Milner All rights reserved. The same two men were in the basement, playing poker and drinking coffee. Kelly took the keys from them and walked down the hall. Inside the room, MacLeod was sitting in the corner, his head on his knees, looking to be asleep. He looked up when she stopped. Kelly supposed he could feel her coming just as she could feel him. She tossed him the small key to the handcuffs. "Toss the key and the cuffs back," she said when he had unlocked them. Too bad she was going to let him cover up, he really had a nice body. Still, she pushed the clothes through the bars and watched as he dressed. "No shoes?" he asked. "Not yet. You don't have a need for them in here." "I thought you weren't going to give me anything till I talked to you." "I can always get them back," she said, "Call it good faith on my part. Now why don't you talk to me a bit." "I don't have anything to say. Look, I'm not after you." He walked slowly up to the bars. His voice was soft. Kelly backed away from the bars. "I won't hurt you. Just let me go. We'll talk outside." "Would you like a glass of wine?" she asked. She took the bottle from the bag along with a couple of paper cups. "Not the best for drinking from, but I wouldn't want you to cut yourself on glass." She poured the wine and handed him a cup. "You went through more than my clothes, I see." "You have a nice stock of wine. I'm not quite that cultivated myself, but I do like it on occasion. Cheers," she said tipping her cup toward him. He drank the wine. "Talk to me Duncan MacLeod," Kelly said, "Tell me about this sword. I took it to an expert and he drooled over it. Showed me a picture of one of your ancestors with the sword. Looked a lot like you." MacLeod looked up quickly. "I didn't know there was any picture of it." "You're the antique dealer. I would have thought you'd know about such things." Kelly said. "I like old things," he said, "Antiques, old swords, old people." "So I gathered from your apartment. Tell me how you managed to hide it. I didn't see it when you came into the restaurant." "It's difficult to explain. But I could show you." "I'm sure you could. But I'm not ready to trust you just yet. You need to tell me something I don't know. Start with why you go around killing with a sword." "Who says I do?" he asked. "Police records." "I don't think the police believe I ever killed anyone. If they did, I'd be in jail." "I'm sure we could come up with the evidence they need. Like the sword here. Did you know that even if you clean a blade, a microscopic amount of the blood stays on the blade. I've heard that even years later, they can trace the blood DNA back to the victim. All the police need is the blade." "Of course, if you do that, then the police would have to hold me and I'd be out of your reach. I'd also get a phone call or two." "True, but if you won't talk to me, then there is no reason to keep you here. The police can keep track of you and keep you out of my hair." "I'm not after you. I don't even know your name." "I would really like to believe you, but I don't believe in coincidence. You came looking for me twice. Why?" "Not here," he said, "Not with the cameras and the microphones." "Why? What could you say to me that even if it weren't recorded, I wouldn't report on anyway?" He held out his paper cup for more wine. Kelly took the bottle off the floor and began pouring for him. She wasn't ready for him to grab her hand. It was firm but not tight. She could have pulled away if she wanted to. The surge of energy came between them again. "I'll tell you about that," he said in almost a whisper, "I'll tell you why and how I knew you were in that alley. If you want to tell your masters about it, that's up to you." He let go of her hand. She brought it down to her side. "Alright," she said, "Let's see if you can tell me anything I won't just pass on." It took an hour to convince everyone that she had the authority to turn off the recording equipment. Even then, she didn't trust the two watch dogs. She had the butler keep an eye on them for her. "All is silent," she said coming back into the hallway, "So what is so secret that you can tell me but no one else?" She didn't trust him at all. She stayed well back from the bars. If he was going to try to escape, now would be the time. "I was born four hundred years ago. I am immortal. And so are you." "Yeah. Right. I think you've let the antique business go a little far." "Some time ago, you were in a serious accident. You came very close to dying. Then you recovered miraculously. Since then, any injury you get, heals almost in seconds, minutes at most. You felt me coming in the alley. You felt me coming in the restaurant. Every time you enter this building you know I am here. You can feel it." "That's an interesting fantasy. I suppose the sword has something to do with it as well." "The only way to kill an immortal is to cut off their head. Take their head and you take their power." "So all these people you've killed, they were immortal as well?" "Yes. But I haven't killed that many." This guy was nuts. He'd have a story for everything. "So you came after me to take my head, and take my power?" "No. Just to find out who you were. There are enough immortals around that we don't know all of them. Some immortals are good, and some are evil. If there was an evil immortal lurking around my home, I'd want to know what he was up to." "So am I a good witch, or am I a bad witch?" she asked. "You're not a witch at all. But you are immortal. This is not a joke. You better believe me, because there will be others, and some won't stop to ask you if you know about the game. They will just take your head." "A game now?" "A game with rules. The first rule is that only one immortal will remain alive in the end. That immortal will have all the power of all the immortals who ever lived." "What does that mean?" "Unlimited power. It could mean anything. Depends on who wins the prize. When only a few immortals remain, there will be a gathering. A force will draw us together, and we will fight. There will be no choice. Until that time, we live our lives as we want. Some of the immortals hunt down and kill other immortals, some are good, others evil. Some immortals try to live a quiet life. It is hard, particularly now with all the computers keeping track of people, but it can be done." "So what are the other rules to the game?" "You must keep mortals out of the conflict. They cannot witness what we do. There are a few who know. There are some who even try to interfere. But our fight is only between ourselves. When you fight, it must be one on one. If a third immortal is present, they must stay out of the fight." "I can see the mortal part of it. You wouldn't want some one telling the Enquirery that immortals were running around cutting off each other's heads. But why the one on one rule?" "When one immortal kills another, the survivor gets the power, the quickening of the slain immortal. What we feel between us," he held out his hand to her, "Is the quickening. When one immortal dies, the quickening is released. The survivor gets that power." "Sure. Any other rules?" "Holy ground is safe. No immortal will ever fight there. No matter what else happens, you will always be safe on holy ground." "Holy, like in the Catholic church has blessed it, or something?" "The Catholic church is a recent invention of the mortals. Any holy ground, whether the druids thought it holy, the indians buried their dead on the land, or any people, any time, any where once prayed to whatever gods they had, that is holy ground." "That takes in a lot of territory," she said trying to figure out just how much land would be considered holy. "Now you know why I went looking to find who was outside my home. I'm not a threat to you. Once you let me out of here, I explain more about the immortals." "What you've told me is a fantasy story," Kelly said, "Nothing more. I don't know why we have this electricity between us. I don't believe in immortals. And I'm willing to caulk it up to the unknown. But what really breaks the story is that I haven't died and come back from the dead. I've come close a couple of times, but I always seem to spend a few months in the hospital afterwards. There is no miracle that instantly heals me." "I can prove it," he said. He rolled back the sleeve on his shirt. "Let me have the katana." "No way. I've got a feeling that you know how to use it just a bit too well." "Then you take it. Cut my arm." "I don't think so," Kelly said, "I don't get my jollies watching other people bleed. Besides, if I cut too deep, we'd have to open this door to let in the doctor to fix you up. I think you are good enough to take advantage of that opportunity." At least, that's what she would do. "Rest easy, Duncan MacLeod, I'll be back in the morning. You might want to come up with a different story by then." She took the sword and wine with her. The two watch dogs were waiting outside the door to the basement. They went back in the room to play their poker and watch. As they went in, she heard them talking. "He must not have been very good," one said, "Too quick," the other said, "I could have made it last a lot longer." Kelly turned and went back into the room. She hit the closest one without warning, rapping the hilt of the katana across the back of his head. She whipped the blade around and came close to cutting the second guy. He back peddled till he reached the wall. "You seem to forget who I am," Kelly said, "I don't like people talking about me particularly behind my back. You want to say something now?" She waited only a second, "I didn't think so." She turned and started to walk away again. "Pick up your partner and get out. You're not needed here." She went upstairs and into the study where the file was still on the desk. The butler came in with another pot of coffee. "Do you think that was wise?" he asked, "Telling those two to leave." "They were getting on my nerves. Besides, MacLeod's not going anywhere." "Perhaps. What are you going to do with him?" "I don't know. He's either a very good liar, or he's certifiable crazy. The question is, will he come after me again. This detail is done, so there's no reason for me to stick around any longer." She glanced at the sword. Nothing about this guy made any sense. Swords, antiques, immortals, the buzz she got from him. She drank some of the coffee. "Let him go in the morning. I'll be out of town by then. Send his sword to him later. I wouldn't want him getting upset by all this and start whacking off heads." She drove out to the airport, caught a flight out, and took a couple of days off. She got her next assignment, and started working again. MacLeod was forgotten, except for when she waited in alleys for a contact, and some times in her dreams. On a long needed holiday, Kelly sat drinking coffee on one of the busy streets in Paris. It was said that if you sat there long enough, everyone you knew would eventually pass by. She hadn't considered that when taking her coffee on the sidewalk. She liked to watch people, that was her only consideration until she felt the caffeine buzz her nervous system. A chill ran down her spine. Looking around, she found Duncan MacLeod across the street looking back at her. He took a single step in her direction, then changed him mind, turned and walked away. She felt a moment of disappointment. Not that she could blame him. She had, after all, told him to leave her alone. And there was the false arrest and short term holding. She smiled at the image that came back to her of him in that cell. It would not be surprising that he didn't want to see her again. She was trouble to him. But she wanted to visit with him anyway. She called his place a few time before anyone answered. "I was wondering if we could get together to talk," she said after he said hello. He didn't answer right away. "Just the two of us, or are you going to invite your friends?" "Just you and I. I'll even bring the wine." She found his barge easily enough. As soon as she got close, she could feel him. She just followed that extra sense till she came to the barge. He greeted her at the door and invited her in. For just a second she felt like the fly being invited into the spider's parlor. The barge was more open and spacious than she expected. In many ways it was similar to the apartment, with one big multi-purpose room broken up only by the furniture. She liked it. She handed him the bottle of wine she had brought with her. "This should be served chilled," he said taking the bottle from her. "Probably taste better out of real glasses rather than paper cups," she said. She thought he blushed before he turned away. "I like your taste in housing," she said walking around the large room. He disappeared into the kitchen. She heard him working, and joined him. The smaller room barely held the two of them. He was putting some cheese on a board along with some crackers. A bowl of fruit was in a bowl on the counter. The wine was already in a bucket of ice. As he came out of the kitchen carrying the cheese board, he had to squeeze by her. They touched for a moment, and the surge of energy Kelly remember passed between them before Kelly stepped back to let him through. She picked up the bucket with the wine and followed him into the living room. They talked while they drank the wine. Or rather, Duncan talked and Kelly listened. He talked about what it meant to be immortal, long life, never aging, never taking a permanent injury, and also the down side, watching loved ones grow old and die, or just dying young, people asking you what you were and where you were from, never being able to trust anyone completely, and always having to watch out for immortals who would take your head. They finished the first bottle of wine and most of the cheese. Kelly could almost believe him. She knew he believed what he was saying. If only he didn't insist that she too was immortal. She watched him come back into the room with a second bottle of wine. Crazy or not, he was a gorgeous man. They drank the second bottle while Duncan tried to find out more about Kelly. He said she had been adopted. She said, no, she came from a small family, no adoption. He said she just hadn't been told about it. He wanted to know who she was working for. She gave him the generic government agency story, but wouldn't say what she did for them. "I was working when we met the first time," she said, "You almost messed it up for me. I had to assume that you were doing that on purpose. That's why I had you detained." "Was that all necessary?" he asked, referring, she was sure, to being stripped. "You were carrying a deadly weapon. The guys bringing you in thought so. You never did show me where you hid that thing." "Any where I want," he said. "I'll bet you could hide a lot," she said, "Most of the time." She still had visions of him in that room, stark naked. She figured her voice gave away her thoughts as he put his hands around her and drew her nearer. "You still have an advantage over me," he said. He started to unbutton her blouse. "You've seen what I have to offer." They spent the rest of the night getting to know even more about each other. It was unlike anything Kelly had felt before. She'd had her share of lovers, but none like Duncan. She felt connected to him more than just physically. When they made love, it was as if they shared everything, much more than just a carnal bond. In the morning when he left the bed, she could still feel him beside her. She lounged a bit longer in the bed. When she heard the shower, she went to join him. They delayed breakfast a few more hours. Over breakfast, he told her he would take her to a place where she could learn to use a sword. For her, it broke the mode of the night before. "You need to learn," he said, "There will be others who will come for your head. I'd rather have all of you, but other immortals aren't so appreciative. So let's work on keeping you whole." Well, there were worse ways to spend a holiday. Sword fighting wasn't exactly on the top ten list, but since Duncan was the teacher, she could deal with it, even when he turned out to be a demanding teacher. Besides, they didn't spend all their time fighting. There were always the long nights together. After two weeks, Kelly sort of got the hang of the sword. She thought she might be able to fend off an attack. She also knew from her other martial arts that it would take years of practice to become good at the sword. If some immortal did come after her, she thought the best way to deal with him would be to shoot first and then take his head. At least that way she had a chance. That is, if there were such things as immortals. She was actually beginning to think there might be. It was about time to break off the romance and get back to reality. "You should quit work," Duncan told her when she said she needed to get back, "The less you are involved with governments the better. In time, you'll understand that." "Even if I tried to quit, I wouldn't be allowed to. People don't just up and quit from the kind of job I have. Some one would hunt me down. Besides, I like my job. I'm good at it. And if I weren't doing it, what would I do? No, a couple more days, then I need to check back in." She didn't get a couple more days. That evening when they went to a concert she had the feeling she was being watched. It wasn't like the feeling she got around Duncan, it was just a general feeling that some thing wasn't right. The flow of traffic was just a bit off. The way the crowd moved didn't fit with the normal pattern. There was something different. "We're being followed," she told Duncan as they left the concert. "I don't feel anyone." "It isn't one of your immortals. More likely it is someone from my past. Take a round about route through Paris and let's see what pops up." Nothing showed up which didn't mean they weren't there. Back at the barge, Kelly prepared to go out. Duncan tried to talk her out of it. "It's what I do," she said as she double checked her Beretta before putting it into the holster under her sweater. "I have to go. I have to find out who is out there." She waited long enough after they turned out the lights, that anyone watching would think she'd gone to bed for the night. Instead, she crept outside. Other than dropping off the side of the barge into the water, she had to walk along the dock, exposed to anyone who might be watching. It bothered her. There were no cars parked where they shouldn't be, no people watching along the walk ways, no half opened windows along the apartments nearby. There was nothing to show that anyone was interested in her. Still, she trusted her feelings of earlier in the night. Some one was there. She lay on the barge for more than an hour watching the area. A few cars passed by. A few people were out for a stroll. Nothing unusual. She had almost decided she was wrong when she saw a shadow in a doorway. One came in and one went out. As they changed places, Kelly dropped off the barge and ran silently between parked cars. She intercepted the shadow before he got to his car. Not wanting to alert the others, she couldn't question him. Instead, she put him to sleep and threw him into the trunk of his car. He would keep for awhile. She went back to the building where he'd come from. There was no one in the doorway. The door itself was locked. She unlocked it and went inside. There was a flash of light and a clap of thunder. Trap, she thought in the instant she had before she was thrown back into the street. There was an image that remained in her mind. She could see the bullet slowly coming at her. It was inches from her chest. Then it broke through her sweater. For just a second she thought it was her imagination. She was knocked to the ground. She felt a second punch in the chest. She had a few more seconds. Some one came and stood in front of her. She knew that face. He smiled at her as he raised his gun. She was looking up the barrel when the flash blinded her and ended her consciousness. Pain like she'd never felt before caused her to scream out. She sat up, still half blind. She felt some one close and she tried to swing at him. "It's alright," Duncan said, "You're alright. Lay back and rest a bit." Kelly focused on him. What had happened? Some nightmare, so real she could almost feel the bullets still in her. She looked around. She was in the barge, on the bed. Beside her, a blood soaked towel rested on the pillow. She looked down on herself. The black sweater was stuck to her chest. She pulled it off exposing the blood covering her and the two half healed bullet holes within an inch of each other, positioned directly over her heart. This couldn't be real. "What happened?" she asked. "You were shot. The men who did it are gone. They think you're dead." "I am dead," she said. "No. I told you before, you can only die if some one takes your head." "I am not immortal. There is no such thing." "Then how do you explain this?" He wiped more blood off her chest with the soaked towel. The bullet holes were now almost completely healed. As she watched, they disappeared altogether. "I don't know," she said weakly. She lay back on the bed and let Duncan clean the blood off of her. She couldn't explain what had just happened. Drugs maybe. She thought she knew Duncan, but it wasn't inconceivable that he had some how drugged her and then play acted the entire thing. She'd been drugged before. Then they had given her other nightmares and tried to pull information from her. She still didn't know what she had told them. She remembered thinking she was going to die. She also remembered them trying to kill her and throwing her in the snow afterwards. But it was all nightmares. She had woken up with no injury and very little memory about what really happened. There was panic back in the office, situations she knew about were cancelled, people were moved, codes were changed. It took a long time for operations to recover from that one. She wasn't going to let it happen again. She tried to rise. Duncan held her down. "I've got to go after them," she said. "You don't have to do anything. They think you are dead. Let them go on believing that." "They can't get away with shooting at me. I'm going to kill them and then go after the men who ordered it." She pushed him away and got up. There was still blood on her. She washed it off before dressing. "This is what I have to do," she said before she left. She found them one by one. Each one she questioned before killing. Each one led her to the next, till she finished with the one who had sent the order. By the time she was done she had rationalized the episode. She hadn't been shot. The blood belonged to some one else. They had panicked and ran. Immortality was a fantasy belonging to a very beautiful man. -- Wendy \|/ /\ -O- /**\ /|\ /****\ /\ / \ /**\ Here there be dragons / /\ / \ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\/\/\ /\ / / \ / \ / \/\/ \/ \ /\/ \/\ /\ /\/ / / \/ \ / / \/ /\ \ / \ \ / \/ / / \/ \/ \ / \ \ / / \/ \/\ \ / \ / / \ __/__/_______/___/__\___\__________________________________________________ Wendy Milner HPDesk: wendy_milner@hp4000 Hewlett-Packard Co. HP-UX: wendy@fc.hp.com Mail Stop 102 Telnet: 229-2182 3404 E. Harmony Rd. AT&T: (303) 229-2182 Fort Collins, CO, 80525 FAX: 229-3526 =========================================================================