Date: Thu, 5 May 1994 18:53:48 CDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Heather Hirshorn Subject: Highlander's Daughter Part 02 ************************* Highlander's Daughter Part 2 ********************** Duncan decided quickly that he hated Texas. Especially Houston. The weather was absolutely miserable, he did not think that the humidity ever fell below ninety percent. But even that would not have been so bad- it was constantly drizzling in Scotland- if the wet was not accompanied by this all-ecompassing heat. He stopped at a fast food drive-thru to get a drink for the third time since entering the city. Finally, he arrived at his destination- the Greenspoint Wyndam hotel. Check-in went smoothly and he was soon settled in his room. There was already a message from Connor, giving him the addresses for both the theatre and her apartment. Duncan wished that it had not been necessary to seek her out like this, but Connor had been unable to tear himself away from Brenda, who was in the hospital having surgery on her appendix. Duncan sat on the edge of the bed, wondering whether this "mission" was as vital as Connor made it out to be. Warning Devon of a particularly ruthless immortal who was after her head would probably anger her more than anything else. He knew how she hated feeling coddled, and him coming all the way from Paris was bound to make her feel that way. But he had promised Connor, and he was a little worried himself. He had never come across Stephen Youngblood, but Connor insisted that Youngblood did not always play by the rules and strong as she was, Devon was no match for him. Duncan was not so sure, but he had held his tongue. 'Admit it,' a niggling voice in his brain prodded, 'you wanted to see her. You've ached for her ever since that day on the hill.' Duncan stood abruptly, shaking his head as if to clear it. Changing quickly into an outfit more suited to the weather, Duncan headed to the theatre. The tiny building looked like an ordinary shop. He might have passed it by had he not seen the tiny sign on the front- _Ford's Theatre_. He did not see how it could do much business, no one would be able to locate it. Duncan parked in the adjacent lot and sat in his car for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He had not seen Devon in three years. He knew leaving was a cowardly thing to do, but he had not been able to stay. He had lost his precious control with Devon and he could not risk it happening again. The few women he had been involved with since Tessa's death had never managed to get into his heart, although he had truly liked and cared for each of them. Devon was different somehow, their single kiss had contained a passion unlike anything he could ever have imagined. But it did not matter now. How she must hate him for running. How he hated himself. The first thing he noticed was how much larger the theatre was than he first thought. The lobby was tastefully decorated with a couch, a table, and a few chairs artfully arranged near the box office, which faced the door. He peered into that office, unable to see at first because of the two huge plants on the counter. Then he saw her hair, the vibrant shade of red stood out like a flag. Steeling himself, he approached the box. "May I help you?" Devon said, before looking up. When there was no answer, she lifted her head, a sweet smile brightening her face. When she saw the tall man who stood before her, the smile froze into a caricature of itself, then disappeared altogether. "What in God's name are you doing here?" "Devon." Oh Jesus, why did her name have to sound like a caress on his lips? She drank in the sight of him, the past three years vanishing as if never there. Duncan MacLeod still had the power to make her feel like a fragile piece of glass, and if he touched her, she was sure she would shatter into a thousand pieces. That made her angry and roused her from her silly dreaming. "Don't 'Devon' me. I don't want to see you, so why don't you put your tail between your legs and run- like last time." Duncan kept a tight rein on his temper. "Devon, Connor asked me to come to you. There is an immortal after you who is extremely dangerous and without scruples. The rules mean very little to him, he has a habit of ignoring the ones that do not suit him." Initially, Devon's only emotion was disappointment that Duncan had come to her only because of Connor's request. But as the meaning of his words sank in, she felt coldness settle in her stomach. "Why does he want me?" Startled, Duncan did not answer for a moment. She did not seem angry that he was warning her. "I don't know. He's always had a rivalry of sorts with your father, maybe he is trying to set a trap for Connor by threatening you." Seeing her eyes go dark with fear, Dunacn made a soothing noise and reached out to touch her. It was a mistake. Hissing sharply, Devon yanked her hand away. "Did you come to protect me, Duncan? Well rest assured that I won't be needing your big, strong muscles to fight my battles for me. I've taken care of myself for over four hundred years and I'm not about to stop now." "You haven't always been on your own. Connor has always been near you, watching after you. And besides, you don't even remember your past as Joanna, so that attitude doesn't wash." Devon's color rose slightly. "I may not have my full memory back, but I remember enough. Have you forgotten how easily I could have taken your head on the hill?" Now it was Duncan's turn to blush. "Yes, but I was not fighting to kill you. Youngblood will be." Devon offered no protest, for she saw the truth in Duncan's words. But it did not change how she felt about him. "Thank you for warning me, I'll keep my eyes open. But we are getting ready to close and..." "Dev! Hey honey, are you almost ready to go?" Duncan turned at the sound of this new voice, and his eyes narrowed as he saw the attractive man heading towards the box. There was something familiar about that chisled face, but he could not pin it down. The man slowed when he saw Duncan, almost halting in place. But then he picked up his pace, almost running the few steps to the office door. Devon ripped her eyes from Duncan and forced herself to look at Nick as he entered the office. She was shocked when he threw his arms about her and kissed her fervently on the mouth. Duncan tried to ignore the raging jealously that lept to life as he watched Devon kiss the man who was so obviously her lover. He cleared his throat rather loudly. Devon broke away and continued to stare at her boyfriend, still annoyingly enraptured. Then she turned wide green-hazel eyes on Duncan. "Duncan MacLeod, Nick Chaney." Nick smiled and thrust out his hand. Duncan shook it reluctantly. "Pleased to meet you. I hope you weren't hoping to steal her away from me, we have a party to go to." Despite his friendly face, the meaning of his words rang loud and clear. "No, not at all. I'm just an old friend who happened to be in town for a few days. We'll finish our discussion later, Devon." It was not a question. With an ironic nod, Duncan left the theatre. Devon did not have the presence of mind to say goodbye. "What was that for?" Now that the surprise of the embrace was over, Devon resisted the urge to run after Duncan, and focused her anger on Nick. "If you were trying to mark your territory..." "No, not at all! I just haven't seen you all day, and you look so good. You didn't mind my kissing you did you? If I'm taking your going to the party with me the wrong way, I apoligize." Nick adopted a sheepish grin and dropped his arms. "Well, I didn't really say that I was going to the party with you, just that I would go." An image of Duncan's carefully cool expression before he had left appeared in her mind. She smiled. "But I would be more than happy if you would escort me." Duncan drove much too fast on the way back to his hotel. Luckily, the rental car did not race much higher than eighty. Duncan kept replaying the last few minutes of his conversation with Devon over and over. He insisted to himself that he was not envious of this Nick person, just cautious for Devon's sake. So what if this man had the face and body of an Adonis? So what if Devon had looked into his eyes like she was drowning? So what if his hands had stroked her like...wait a minute. His arms. Duncan could not believe he had been so unobservant. On Nick's wrist, was the blue tatoo of a Watcher. End of Part 2 =========================================================================