========================================================================= Date: Sat, 6 Apr 1996 20:31:53 -0500 Reply-To: LC Krakowka Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: LC Krakowka Subject: Twists of Fate 2/5 Twists of Fate LC Krakowka-copyright 1996 hck1@cornell.edu part 2 "Sarie, do you believe in fate?" Sarah looked up from the soil she was turning over. "What kind of fate? Fate like Oedipus' fate? Or fate in the cosmic sense?" "Is there a difference?" Adam asked, up-ending a bag of peatmoss into the trough she had just completed. It was late evening, almost dark, on a warm day later in the week. Sarah and Amanda had crossed paths and fired verbal assaults at each other twice since that day in the dojo, but it was beginning to look like things were going to blow over, though Duncan wasn't convinced of that. The Highlander always was a bit of a worry wart. Adam was looking forward to having Sarah all to himself for the summer. He had hoped to convince her to travel with him--for old time's sake-- but the very fact that she was putting in a garden suggested that her intentions were to remain in Seacouver until term started again. "Oh, sure. Oedipus' fate was written in stone. Cosmic fate is more of a nebulous thing...where the end is clear, but you can take many roads to get there," she said. "Cosmic fate then, do you believe in it?" He kicked the remaining chunks of peat out of the bag and tossed it aside. She nodded, leaning on her shovel to rest a moment. "I have to, to make sense out of existence. Especially our existence." Adam looked at her. She was slightly disheveled, sweaty, and had smears of dirt across her forehead from her soil encrusted gloves. Not exactly a very glamorous look for her. "For example?" "You and I are the perfect example," she stomped on the shovel to force it through the sod. "Make sure you mix that in well, this soil really stinks...we need all the organic material we can get." Adam grabbed the spading fork and began to follow her down the row. "You and I?" He prompted. "The very fact that we went for six hundred years thinking the other dead...the world was a small place back then, Petey. We must have crossed paths a million times, but we never saw each other." "And what does that have to do with Cosmic fate?" "Everything. Obviously, for whatever reason, we simply were not meant to meet up again until last year," she reached down and pulled out a softball sized stone, tossing it onto the pile that had formed just to the left of where her garden was going to be. "I know what that reason was," he said as she turned and started a new row. She paused and looked up at him expectantly. "You needed someone to do manual labor," he grunted, heaving a new bag of peat onto his shoulders. "They have machines that do this sort of thing now, Sarie. They're called Rototillers." She stuck her tongue out at him. "You volunteered to help. Richie was going to do it, but you said you wanted to. I believe you said that agriculture was always a pursuit that brought solace, or some other such bullshit." She had him there. He *had* volunteered. It wasn't swashbuckling through Europe, as they had done in their relative youth, but it was spending time with her. "Yes, well...do I get anything for my labors?" "You can have all the cucumbers you can eat." Adam screwed his face into a scowl. "You know I hate cucumbers." She glanced up at him and grinned. "Okay, beer then. You can have all the beer-- all the beer that's in my fridge." Sarah caught herself just in time, had she said all the beer he could drink, she'd be in debt until the end of time. "And it's real beer? Not that watered down piss that Richie drinks?" Sarah laughed. "It's Bass. And there might be a Guinness or two in there, I forget." They worked on in silence for a few minutes, finishing the row and turning back to start another. Adam was watching her dig and trying not to look too closely at the same time. This was all very frustrating, this sexual attraction to her. Falling in love with her was one thing, that he could keep quiet, and had been doing so since she had arrived in Seacouver the previous Summer. Alexa had provided a nice distraction and he had genuinely cared for her, but seeing Sarie standing in the middle of Duncan's dojo that night last year had brought back six centuries of emotions he had thought he'd lost for good. Lust though, that was harder to keep under wraps. The mistake had been when he helped her get dressed for the Gathering in Glenstrae. Having an idea of what someone looked like undressed was one thing, knowing it was quite another. And he had taken so many cold showers in the past few weeks that he was beginning to think he'd have permanent goose bumps. "Too bad you're so young," he said. "Why's that?" Sarah tossed her shovel aside and squatted in the dirt, trying to get her hands under a large rock to leverage it out. "You would have loved the hanging gardens at Babylon." "Is there anywhere you haven't been?" She grunted, losing her grip and falling backwards into the dirt. Adam offered her a hand up, then thought a minute. "New Jersey. Come on, you push, I'll pull," he squatted down in front of the rock and gripped its' edge. Sarah wedged her fingers under the same edge and shoved with all her might, while he pulled against it. After a few moments of grunting and swearing, they finally rocked it free and, together, rolled it over to the pile. "Jersey, huh?" She said, flopping to the ground to rest. Adam nodded and sat down next to her, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. "Always meant to go. But somehow, I just never got around to it." "The shore is nice, or was, before we started dumping our trash into the oceans," she said, glancing at her watch. "Oh shit, Mac and Richie are going to be here within the hour. We had better hit the showers. You did bring clean clothes, right?" Adam scowled, still caught up in the shower image. "Why, it's one of those Grungy Clubs, isn't it?" Sarah rolled her eyes. "It's a *Grunge* club, Petey, not a grungy club." "Whatever. I still don't understand why we are going to this club, when we could be going to the symphony, or the museum, or even just sitting at home and watching TV." Sarah heaved herself to her feet and pulled him up. "Because we are always dragging Richie to all these cultural things...but we are ignoring his culture. Who knows, five hundred years from now, the whole world could be one giant mosh pit. It's important to him. Roll with it, Petey." "Mosh pits," he sighed, shouldering the spading fork and following her toward the house, "remind me of the Huns." "There will be plenty of scantily glad young ladies there to watch, I'm sure you'll forget all about the Huns," she said over her shoulder. "Not bloody likely," he muttered. Close to forty minutes later, Richie roared up on his bike, followed shortly by Duncan in the T-bird. Sarah and Adam had each had time to shower and change and were sitting on the steps of the Victorian house that she rented the fourth floor apartment in, sharing a beer and waiting. "You're wearing that?" Richie asked Adam, not bothering with a standard greeting. The older immortal looked down at his beige chinos and rugby shirt. "Yes." "I tried to tell him," Sarah said. "But he wouldn't listen." "These are perfectly respectable clothes," Adam huffed. "You look like you just stepped out of a J Crew catalog," she countered. "And you, Sarie, look like something out of the Wild West," he tugged the fringe on her sleeve. She frowned. "I *like* this jacket, thank you very much. Fringed leather is very hip right now, even Eddie Vedder wears it." "Who?" "Regardless of what's on the fashion channel, we're going to be late," Richie said. "The band starts in half an hour." "Can I hop a ride with you, Richie?" Sarah asked, having spotted Amanda in the passenger seat of the car. "Sure," he said. "Great," Sarah smiled and headed for the bike. Adam heaved a sigh of relief. He was in no mood to play referee. Two hours later, he leaned close to Sarah's ear and shouted over the pounding music. "Are we enjoying the culture yet?" She shook her head, not wanting to contribute to the already painful noise level in the dark and crowded bar. Sarah fished around in her coat pocket for a pen, then scrawled "No, get me out of here" on a napkin, shoving it under his nose. He took her by the elbow and guided her through the room and out the door. Once outside, they both leaned against the brick building and sighed. "I'm too old for music that loud," Sarah said. "You and me both, Sarie." Moments later, Duncan joined them, rubbing his temples and frowning deeply. "Welcome to the old folks home," Sarah joked. "I don't care what Richie says, that is NOT music," Duncan sighed. "That's what people said about Rock and Roll in the 50's, Mac," Sarah said. "It's music, it's just damn loud music." "If that is what the world will be like in five hundred years, you can take my head now, Sarie." Adam said. "Huh..." Sarah muttered, staring across the street at the opposite corner. "What?" Duncan asked. "That car, the VW," she pointed. "I could swear it was parked outside the dojo several times this week." Adam followed her glance to a nondescript blue car parked under a street lamp. "There are probably nine hundred of those in the city," he said. Sarah shrugged, making a mental note of the license plate number. *** Allison ducked low again as she noticed her old friend pointing toward the car. She was just beginning to formulate a plan and had even gone so far as to hire a mortal to help her execute it, it wouldn't be good for Sarah to recognize her now. This was all very risky. She knew that Amanda was under the protection of MacLeod and, from what she had heard about him, that was nothing to be trifled with. The man had a reputation among immortals, but she had done extra research and used her connections with a certain Watcher named Mike to find out all she could about both Amanda and MacLeod. In the past, the Highlander had been unable to bring himself to take a woman's head, but that was before a woman had come hunting Amanda. Who knows what he would do to Allison if he caught her once Amanda was dead. Now that Sarah was in the picture, things got even more complicated. It really all depended on what she thought of Amanda. If the Scot and Amanda got along, Allison didn't stand a chance. But, nothing she had seen so far indicated that Amanda and Sarah were chummy. In fact, it appeared that they didn't like each other very much. If that was indeed the case, Allison was golden. The only real question that remained was the identity of the tall man standing next to Sarah. It was obvious that they knew each other very well, but Allison didn't recognize him. He must be from Sarah's early days as an immortal, or maybe from after she and Allison had parted ways. Regardless, he was the unknown factor. She had two things left to do before she could put things in motion: find out who the guy with the cute nose was, and figure out how to get Amanda alone. The first day she saw Amanda in Seacouver, it had been all Allison could do to keep herself from challenging her right there on the street. But she had forced herself to remain calm. Amanda was over ten times her age and Allison was sure that she was no slouch with a sword. Sarah had taught her much of the skill that had allowed her to survive in the Game, but Allison lacked the fire to truly get involved. She had spent the last seventy years laying low and learning all she could about her fellow immortals, with the hope of being able to avoid them, should one come looking. This was the first time she intentionally went gunning for a fight and it would likely be the last. Once Amanda was dead, her pain would be eased and she could try to pick up the pieces. *** Amanda arrived at the dojo amidst the clanging of swords. She entered, expecting to find Mac and Richie sparring, but was slightly shocked to find Duncan's opponent to be a very sweaty Sarah MacGreggor. This was not the same light hearted practice Duncan indulged Richie with. These two wore grim resolve on their faces and were pacing to and fro across the room with lethal quickness. If Richie wasn't sitting idly in a corner watching, she might have mistook the scene for a real confrontation. She watched with fascination as Sarah met Mac's katana blow for blow, always ending with a twist or flick that kept him slightly off balance. Maybe provoking Sarah hadn't been such a good idea after all; as fun as it was. Amanda had survived her eleven some odd centuries through her wit and guile, but it was obvious that Sarah had made her way with her sword. Amanda inhaled sharply as Duncan's katana locked against the quillions of Sarah's rapier, close to the woman's neck. Frankly, she wasn't sure who to root for. There was her emotional attachment to Duncan to consider. But that was tempered with a desire to see him beaten, just once, especially by a woman. The tension in the room dissolved quite suddenly as Sarah grinned and took a step back. Duncan checked his blade and smiled back at her. They half bowed at each other and lowered their swords. "Aw! C'mon! Sarah and Adam duke it out to the end when they spar!" Richie complained. Duncan set down his sword and picked up a towel. "I imagine he trusts her a whole lot more than I do," he said. "You don't trust her, Mac?" Sarah took up a towel of her own and chugged from a nearby bottle of water. "You really shouldn't trust anybody in the Game, Richie. Mac and I have made a promise not to fight for real for as long as we can, but that doesn't mean that someday we won't find ourselves at the wrong end of each other's swords." "It's better not to know which one of us would win a spar. That would weigh heavy in a real fight," Mac added. "Well, Mac would, of course." Richie said. "I mean, no offense Sarah, but he is stronger than you are." She laughed. "Strength isn't everything in a fight. I imagine Amanda can vouch for that. I'm sure we've both beaten enemies that were stronger than we are." Both Richie and Duncan turned suddenly toward where Amanda was standing, having been too engrossed in the proceedings of the match to sense her arrival. She flushed slightly, not knowing if the other woman had sensed her, or just happened to notice her in the shadows. "Its true," Amanda recovered quickly. "Guile and speed can make up for strength. Look at Kenny." Sarah frowned. "Hasn't someone killed that little creep yet?" "He's just a kid," Amanda said. "An eight hundred year old kid, who likes to take people's heads in their sleep." "You don't know what he's been through," Amanda walked over and sat down next to Richie. "I know he killed two of my friends, after convincing them he was as innocent as a lamb," Sarah threw down her towel. "I suppose you're the one who taught him all he knows." "What's that supposed to mean?" Amanda stood up, reaching for her sword. Duncan grabbed her elbow. "Can't you two just play nice?" Adam said from the doorway. "MacLeod and I are getting pretty tired of having to keep you from killing each other." "Look Amanda, I didn't mean anything by it," Sarah said with a sigh. "That kid just makes my blood boil." "Fine," Amanda said, pulling away from Duncan. The two women locked gazes for a moment. "Come on Sarie, we'll be late," Adam said. "Where are you two going?" Richie asked. "To buy me a new stereo," Sarah threw her towel into the duffel and zipped it. "Petey here says my woofers need tweeters or something." "Can I come? I know all about stereos," Richie hopped down from his seat. Sarah shrugged and was about to say sure, but Adam spoke first. "I think I can handle it, thanks." [end pt. 2] -- LC Krakowka/hck1@cornell.edu