Date: Fri, 12 Jan 1996 17:00:49 -0500 Reply-To: shannara@TWAVE.NET Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Kim Sefcik Subject: "'Til Death Do Us Part" (Part 01/13) _'Til Death Do Us Part_ A Highlander Fan Fiction Copyright, January 1996 Kim Sefcik (shannara@twave.net) Watcher-in-training All rights reserved CHAPTER 1 Seattle (but it *looks* like Vancouver... no, it's *Seacouver*!), DeSalvo's Dojo Sunday, 8:08pm Richie switched off the computer monitor and cracked his knuckles. After running his hands through his red hair, he snatched his leather jacket off the back of his chair and pulled it on with practiced ease. He had *a lot* of work to catch up on if he wanted to get the dojo back up to par. Shutting the office door behind him, Richie strode across the sparse dojo, his footsteps clicking on the wooden floor. He passed a megalithic excuse for a weight machine, and took a passing glance at some of the swords and weapons Duncan had displayed on the walls. After taking once last glance around he walked down the short corridor and out the door that led into the alley beside the dojo. He walked out into the slowly cooling night air, his footsteps ringing on the metal steps. Mounting his motorcycle from where he had parked it alongside the dojo, Richie paused for a moment and looked up at the old brick building with the hand painted sign bearing the red words 'DeSalvo Martial Arts' above the door. /It feels good to be back,/ Richie thought, /It's different without Mac, but I was starting to miss the old place. Hell, and I was only gone for a few months... guess it goes to show you how you don't know how much you care about something until it's gone./ Richie shook his head, /Philosophical statements coming from me? That's a first./ he grinned at the thought as he kicked the stand up on his bike and gunned the engine. Richie pulled out on the downtown street. The light was beginning to wane, and the sunset reflected off the windows of cars and buildings. The horizon was painted an orange purple and the undersides of clouds were turning a bright pink, casting a surreal atmosphere to the late summer day. Richie turned a corner on his bike, intentionally squealing his tires just to show off, and turned in the direction Joe's. He had only been there once since he had gotten back to the States a couple of months ago, and Joe had left shortly thereafter. He said it was "Watcher business"... For once, thankfully, everything seemed to be quiet and normal. There were no evil Immortals lurking in the shadows, like cats waiting to strike, no pressing personal problems... for once Richie could more or less relax and try his best to lead a (relatively) normal life... at least, until Mac got back. Then, the air around Richie seemed to thicken, and his mind, body and soul were filled with an all too familiar thrumming buzz. "Oh, *great*," Richie groaned, "that's just what I need." ---------------------------- The air around Michelle filled with the same buzz. Wide eyed and sweaty palmed, she slammed on the brakes of her coupe and glanced furtively around. /No, not here, not now!/ she thought, mentally cursing herself, /Damn, me and my great ideas, I shouldn't have left the Abbey.../ Reaching into the passenger's seat behind her, Michelle hefted the three feet of comforting steel that made her broadsword, and placed the weapon in the seat next to her. Then, refocusing her attention, she looked around for signs of the other Immortal. Seeing no one, she had a flash of inspiration... she hadn't actually been challenged, so there was no need to actually stick around and find out who it was. Depressing the gas pedal to the floor, her tires squealed and spun, and she took off like a bat out of hell. ---------------------------- Richie too was casting about, trying to find signs of the other Immortal that he was sensing. Glancing behind him, Richie took his eyes off the road for a moment, and he failed to see the oncoming coupe which had drifted over the yellow line and was hurtling down the street like it had been shot from a cannon. Richie looked up just in time to see the reflection of the sun bounce off the windshield of the oncoming blue car. The front of his red bike crumpled into the front bumper of the coupe. Richie's bike flipped over, sending him sprawling over the sky blue hood and through the windshield. /Oh, no. Not *again*!/ Richie moaned internally. Then, it all went black. Kim Sefcik Watcher-in-training Internet: shannara@twave.net shannara@ravenwood.com | "I am Richie Ryan of the clan . . . wait, /~\ can we try that again?" @xxxxx| (|===============================- \____/\_/ "Being blind, you would wish all others blind | as well." -- Cleante, "Tartuffe" =========================================================================