Date:         Sun, 11 Feb 1996 21:56:35 -0500
Reply-To:     NSumsion@AOL.COM
Sender:       Highlander TV show stories <HLFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU>
From:         "Nathan R. Sumsion" <NSumsion@AOL.COM>
Subject:      The Value of Friends (2a/10)

This story contains some scenes of violence and the occasional profane word.

                    The Value of Friends.

                    Part 2a of 10.

                    by Nathan R. Sumsion

SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA. 1996

     Jessica tapped her fingers impatiently on the table's surface. She was
amused, but she tried not to let it show too much.

     "I don't understand," Jacob was saying. "He said he was going to be
here."

     Jessica smiled sweetly, which was easily transparent. "You must be
rubbing off on him."

     "No, no," Jacob protested, only mildly annoyed. "If anything, I've
gotten _more_ punctual since I've been hanging around Lamont."

     Jessica laughed and sipped more of her coffee. She greatly looked
forward to their ten year reunions. Jacob was one of the only people alive
that truly understood her moods. Better than she at times. How he managed to
remain so optimistic, so damned cheerful sometimes despite the passage of
years continued to amaze her.

     And what confused her the most was how Jacob Hamilton, after over two
hundred years of fighting and killing and struggling to hide who he was, how
he managed to stay so _nice_ to everyone. Jacob was the most genuinely caring
person she had ever met. He was concerned about everyone he knew. Jessica
knew it was his greatest fault as well as being an endearing virtue. It had
been used against him repeatedly during his lifetime.

     But she couldn't help but admire it in him. She had lost a lot of her
empathy, her trust long before she had reached her second century. And in the
following two centuries after she had yet to regain much of it. These
reunions with Jacob were refreshing, for it helped remind her that not every
Immortal had to be a self-serving, vicious killer merely to stay alive.

     "Dammit, that bastard!" Jacob swore under his breath. His comment
startled her out of her reflections.

     "What? Lamont?"

     "No, not Lamont. It's that damned Watcher again." He looked directly at
her, but nodded his head towards the window of the coffee-shop front. "He's
across the street, in an alley, with a camera and some huge cannon of a
lens." He glared sullenly around the rest of the lounge, as if to discover
others watching him.

     Jessica sighed. "Jacob, just try to ignore him. He has a job to do, you
know."

     Well, at least even nice guys had their limits, she thought wryly. This
was the only thing that ever truly got under Jacob's skin. She had endured
dozens of his complaints about the men and women that followed them around,
trying to remain hidden, recording their lives. She thought maybe they had
been better off before discovering the existence of the Watchers. Even if it
had been fortunate at the time.

     "You know his name?"

     Jacob nodded. "Carthage. Russell or Ryan, I think."

     Jessica picked up her cup for another sip.

     "What does it take to get this guy to quit?" Jacob continued. "I've beat
the hell out of him twice already and he still keeps coming."

     Jessica coughed as she sputtered on her coffee. "You? You beat him up?"

     Jacob stirred uncomfortably in his chair. His face was starting to
redden.

     "Well... I tried warning him off civilly, but he just ignored me. I was
hoping he'd request a transfer. Then when the new Watcher showed up, at least
I wouldn't have to know he was there."

     Jessica started to laugh. "Jacob, but why? Is it really so bad?"

     "If he wants to see me fight other Immortals, fine. But does he have to
follow me around on dates? Does he have to know my mortal friends too?"

     "So you beat him up?"

     Jacob shrugged noncommittally. "Well... maybe I exaggerated a bit. I did
hit him once. Broke his camera another time. But since he wouldn't try to
fight back..."

     "Since he wouldn't fight back," Jessica finished, "you couldn't bring
yourself to really hurt him."

     "Yes, dammit," Jacob muttered, "the least he could do would be to try to
fight me. That way I wouldn't feel bad when I beat him to a pulp."

     Jessica laughed. Jacob hadn't changed a bit in the past decade. At
least, nothing fundamental to his character.

     "Ryoshei would be proud of you, you know," she whispered.

     Jacob turned his attention from the window to his friend. He was silent
for a few seconds, the Watcher across the street forgotten.

     "You truly think so?" he asked.

     "He was your teacher, Jacob. You would know him better than I."


SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA. 1852.

     The four dockworkers were a lot bigger close up than when he'd insulted
them from across the street. The Chinese immigrants who had just arrived
stood off to one side, tense but silent. Their boat rocked gently next to the
dock to which it was tethered. But the American dockworkers were less than
content to allow it to remain so.

     They had been trying to get the Chinese to get back on their boat and
leave. They had been pushing the newcomers around, cuffing them on the sides
of their heads, intimidating them in the English they could not yet
understand.

     Jacob had seen what was transpiring as he was passing, and though he was
late for an interview, he couldn't walk by without trying to do something.

     "Hey, lay off over there," he'd shouted.

     The dockworkers jeered at him and continued in their intimidation.

     Despite his penchant for being a nice guy, at times Jacob Hamilton could
pull up some extremely colorful vocabulary. He'd never even remembered what
exactly he had said to the dockworkers, but whatever it was had gotten their
immediate attention. They turned from assaulting the immigrants to stride
quickly over to Jacob and surround him.

     Whatever Jacob had just talked himself into, it was obvious by their
faces that they weren't going to let him talk himself out of it.

     Just then, he felt the presence of another Immortal nearby. Surprised,
he scanned the faces of the dockworkers, before chiding himself that, if it
had been one of them, he would have felt them some time sooner. However, the
sensation of another Immortal's presence distracted him just enough to not
see the first swing coming.

     A fist connected with his jaw and he went down. Jacob couldn't remember
the last time he had been hit so hard. Of course, these dockworkers were used
to loading crates and barrels on and off of ships all day. Their muscles were
all densely packed and considerably larger than his own.

     But Jacob had been fighting like this since before they were born. He
hoped that would prove enough now.

     Ignoring the tingling presence of the Immortal that was surely watching,
he jumped up off the ground before any of the other men could grab hold of
him. He had to ignore the slight skew in perspective he was still feeling
from his head getting hit so hard. He grimly realized that he was now in
greater danger than merely receiving a solid thumping. If these men roughed
him up too bad, he would be in no shape to face whoever was lurking nearby.

     Laughing, the dockworker threw another punch. Quick and solid. But Jacob
was ready for it this time. He stepped aside as the man's arm flew past his
head. Now Jacob was inside the man's reach. He chopped viciously at the man's
throat with the edge of his hand. Choking, the man went down, gasping for
air.

     The laughs ceased abruptly, but before the men could register the change
in the tide of the skirmish, Jacob seized hold of his advantage. He feinted
with his left arm, and as the nearest man raised his arm to block the blow
that never came, Jacob kicked at his knee. Crying out in pain, the man
crumpled to the street.

     The next two took considerably longer, and he received his share of
lumps and bruises before they decided to cut their losses and withdraw.

     Jacob stood in the street, panting, wincing at the pains in his face,
ribs and shoulders. He looked around him. The immigrants were gone. Wisely,
they had left before the dockworkers could get another shot at them. In their
place however, was a lone man. He was Japanese, and he appeared no older than
his mid forties, but Jacob knew better. The man was considerably older than
that.

     "Why do you fight in the street, young man?" he asked in perfect
English.

     Jacob smiled ruefully, wiping blood off of a split lip. "Couldn't get
away fast enough."

     The Japanese man nodded, and though his mouth stayed set, his eyes
twinkled in amusement. "My name is Ryoshei. Come with me. Let us talk."


SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA. 1996.

     "Ryoshei was a great man," Jacob whispered, sadly.

     "I know," Jessica replied, looking across the table at him. The crowd
was starting to thin out in the place. The sun had long since set, the street
lights were on, shining in through the front window. The lamps at each table
illuminated the faces of the patrons remaining indoors.

     They both looked up as they felt another Immortal nearby.

     "Well, aren't we grim tonight!" a new voice stated, approaching their
table.

     Jessica groaned. "We are now."

     Jacob sat up and greeted his friend warmly, shaking his hand. "Glad you
could make it, Lamont. You're starting to be as punctual as I am."

     Lamont was one of those men who could turn heads without trying. His
short brown hair and the mischievous expression permanently on his face were
both immediately charming. Most people found themselves smiling around him
before they realized it. He stood by the table, grinning, folding his arms in
front of him. Lamont looked like the typical graduate student on any campus
in America. Black mock-turtleneck, jeans, Dr. Martins. But despite his charm,
if one looked closely enough, they could see how quickly he moved, how easily
he took everything in at a glance.

     "Oh no. I'm not that bad, yet. I had to dump Monica off with your buddy
across the street."

     Jacob grimaced and turned back to his coffee.

     "Have you wooed the poor girl into your bed yet, Lamont?" Jessica asked
tartly.

     Lamont sat down, laughing. "What? I can't do that, they'd kick her out
of the Watchers or something. And besides, she's married. Although I'm sure
that's the only thing keeping her away."

     Jessica found herself smiling and couldn't bring herself to stop. She
actually chuckled at the man's self-confidence.

     "So what's the plan for tonight?" Lamont asked. "You two aren't planning
just to sit around and reminisce are you? I mean, talk about dull..."

     "No, not just that," Jessica responded. "We were planning on eating as
well."

     Lamont made a rueful grimace.

     Jacob said, "Right after we go get Gerald, remember."

     The other two groaned. "You're not serious, are you?" Lamont asked.

     "Jacob, you're not going to make me start to regret these little
reunions of ours, are you?" Jessica said.

     Jacob raised his arms in mock-surprise. "What? He's not so bad."

     As the three left, Jacob's friends tried to convince him of why they
didn't need the extra company. Jacob merely laughed and shook his head as
they walked out the door.


     *******************

End part 2a. Couldn't fit the whole thing in one message, so the rest will be
in (guess?) 2b.

NSumsion@aol.com
=========================================================================