Date: Wed, 12 Oct 1994 18:21:31 EDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: the dungeon of souls Subject: "Unwelcome Inheritance" Act I, part 4 "Unwelcome Inheritance" by Caile Donachaidh Kane Act I, part 4 comments to _Part 4_ Duncan waited in Vancouver International Airport, wondering what she was going to be like. During Fitz's second call, he'd learned her name - Shae Taylor. And that she was tall, with long dark hair and grey eyes. "Quite beautiful," Fitz had said wistfully. "You'll know each other, I imagine." "No kidding," Duncan had replied. The flight from New York was disembarking. A few moments later, a young woman stepped into the waiting room. She was tall and slender, dressed in black jeans and boots, with a dark green silk shirt. She had a large black duffle bag in one hand, and a sword in a black laquered scabbard over the other shoulder. Shae glanced around, slowly, carefully, until her eyes rested on him. With a faint smile of recognition, she walked towards him. "Duncan MacLeod?" "Yes. You must be Shae." "Yes." It was then that he noticed the tears in her eyes. "Please, Mr. MacLeod. You have to help me." * * * * * * * * * Shae alternately sobbed and talked as Duncan drove. He listened sympathetically, and wondered vaguely what he had gottten himself into. "I just don't understand it! It's like... an advanced form of deja vu. I'll be doing something, and I'll have a vision of myself doing the same thing, only in a different time, and a different place. I'l see people in the visions that I've never seen before, and know their names." She paused and wiped her eyes. "They aren't always bad. The flashbacks, I mean. Sometimes they're actually... kind of pleasant." Shae dropped her eyes and felt herself blush. Duncan smiled. "Go on." Shae bit her lip and shook her head. "I can't sleep because of the dreams. And sometimes I can't even eat - little things like a certain taste or smell will cause another flash" She startled to cry again, and slammed her fist down on the dash. "I can't take it anymore!!" "Hey," Duncan said, reaching out to pat her shoulder. Poor kid, he thought. "Is it really that bad?" "It wasn't , at first. They're getting more and more frequent, though. And you know what the worst part is?" He silently shhok his head. Shae was nearly hysterical now. "I can't fight without gloves anymore. Every time I pick up a sword I get so... *bludgeoned* with images that I can barely stand up. It's horrible!" What did I get myself into? Duncan wondered again as the car over to park outside the dojo. "Listen," he told her, "I'll do everything I can. You have my word." She smiled wearily at him through her tears. "Thank-you," she whispered. She wiped her eyes again and took a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. She leaned forward to pick up her sword from where it lay by her feet, and her necklace fell out of her shirt. The blade flashed, and caught Duncan's eye. "Shae? May I see that?" "Of course." She turned toward him, and allowed him to lift the pendant from between her breasts. It was a miniature katana, with a silver blade and an ebony handle. The handle was delicately carved, ending in a lion's head with teeth bared; the silver shain was threaded through the mouth. The lion's eyes were tiny rubies. Thw whole thing was about three and 1/4 inches long. "This is beautiful!" Duncan said in wonderment. "Where on earth did you get it?" "My grandmere had it specially made for me. Turn it over." He did, and saw her name engraved on the blade: SHAE in Old English lettering. He dropped it, and it nestled again on her chest. "You say your grandmother gave it to you?" "Yes, she is a fencer as well. The women in my family have been swordfighters for centuries." Duncan was nonplussed. He got out of the car and motioned for Shae to follow. ********* further parts will be forthcoming =========================================================================