========================================================================= Date: Wed, 13 Mar 1996 18:27:00 PST Reply-To: Mike Goldman Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Mike Goldman Subject: "Scavenger Hunt" (10/11)--HL Story Praise, comments, flame to Lori at: mgoldman@cts.com They were back to driving again. "Time?" Rory asked. "About 30 minutes." "Good." she responded, "Pull over." "Why?" Mac asked, even as he complied by pulling into an empty school parking lot. "Because I need a drink." Getting out of the car, Rory leaned back in and grabbed the hand basket, then walked to the front of the car, sat on the hood and cracked open a bottle. Taking a *long* drink, she turned her head towards Duncan. "Care to join me?" she asked, taking another swallow. Duncan joined her and helped himself to a bottle and drained about a third of it before he spoke. "What a night." Rory nodded, then started laughing. "What's so funny?" She took another huge swallow. "If we told anyone about this, do you think they'd believe us?" Mac started laughing too as he took another pull at his bottle. "I think they'll have a hard enough time believing we made it through this entire night without killing each other." Rory looked at her now empty bottle. "Don't think it didn't cross my mind." she said, putting the empty back in the hand basket and beginning to sample the contents of a second bottle. Not to be outdone, Mac also finished off his first bottle and opened a second. "Do you even remember why we don't like each other or has this just become one of those 'force of habit' things?" "I dimly recall it had something to do with my having you shot." Rory said dryly, taking another swig. He nodded carefully--his head seemed to be expanding. He took another drink to give himself a moment to think of a response, but Rory's next comment almost made him spit out the mouthful. "Sorry about that." she muttered, taking another drink and then gazing fixedly at the horizon. Mac turned and stared at her. "What brought *that* on?" Rory worked to make the words form in her now fuzzy brain and be spoken across her thick tongue. "I was," she started, slurring only slightly, "thinkin' about Joe. We both care about him and 'tis not fair that he gets put in the middle of you and I." Mac nodded, the motion vaguely similar to the dashboard toys that bobbled every time the driver hit a speed bump. "Y'know what I hate about you, Macleod?" Rory burst out, finishing her bottle in one long drink. It took a couple of tries. "What?" "Ye set yerself up to be so damn perfect -- so damn moral -- and the rest of us are s'posed to measure up to your standards. If we don't, well then, t'hell with us." She looked morosely at the empty bottle in her hands. " 'Tis not always possible to be what someone else thinks ye should be." Duncan drank the last of his bottle. "I'm not perfect." She looked at him, having to place a hand on the car hood to steady herself. "Really." "No, I was raised a certain way--to protect and be responsible for those in my care, but I'm not perfect." He started to tell her about Cord and then progressed to David Keogh, the woodworker who had had an obsession for a mortal women--the obsession resulting in her death. When he finished, she regarded him as soberly as possible, then her face split into a grin. "you have no idea how much better I feel now knowing the Macleod can make mistakes as well." He stuck out his hand. "Truce?" She grabbed, missed it and then latched onto it. "Truce...Duncan Macleod of the Clan Macleod." They sat there a moment longer. "We should get goin'." she finally said. "Och, not yet." Duncan protested, "we've only got to bring *one* bottle of Scotch back and I see there's still *two* here. Be a shame to let it go to waste." "That's true." Rory agreed in what she hoped was a serious tone of voice. "How much time we got?" Duncan looked at his watch, but couldn't decide which of the three he saw were correct. Looking up, he saw Rory cracking open the new bottle. "Enough to empty that." They sat on the hood of the car, trading jokes and stories until the bottle was empty. "I don't think we're in any condition to drive back." Rory noted as she felt herself weave back and forth while she picked up the empties and placed them in the basket. "It's a short walk." Duncan responded--or at least he thought it was. Rory dumped the rest of their items in the hand basket. "I'll carry this. Let's get goin'." They tottered off unsteadily. "Y'know, Macleod," she slurred as they walked towards their destination. "Ye still smell bad." Expansively, Mac threw an arm around her, "That's one of the niced things you've ever said to me."