Date: Thu, 11 Aug 1994 23:49:00 CDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Jeff Sirianni Subject: Highlander's Daughter Part 8 ********************* Highlander's Daughter Part 8 ***************** After a seemingly endless dinner, Amanda arrived home. Her hands were shaking so badly, she could hardly get the key in the lock. She came into the hall, searching for Joanna...Devon dammit. She could not tell if the buzz in her head was from the other immortal or the wine she had recklessly consumed to steal herself for the conversation with ...Devon. Maybe she was not even here, maybe she had grown tired of waiting and gone out. Amanda almost fainted with relief when she saw Devon's shining hair trailing over the back of the couch. "Devon, I'm back," she called. Devon sat up straighter. "Amanda, you're home. I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten about me." "Oh no Devon, oh no. I hadn't forgotten you." She sat down beside Devon. "Well, no sense in wasting time. Where would you like to start?" Devon's brow wrinkled. "From the beginning, I think. Where did we meet? Why did we become such good friends? What was my favorite food?What..." Amanda laughed and interrupted the flood of questions. "Alright, alright. >From the beginning then. We met in Paris in 1732 at a masquerade ball held in honor of a friend's birthday." "Some friend." "Well, yes, a countess or something. Anyway, I arrived, thinking it was going to be an unbearably dull evening. In fact, I was getting ready to leave, when I felt it. A sensation strong enough to make me feel rather ill. Then you entered with your incredibly handsome father. You two made quite a stir since you were very late and since the two of you were such an attractive couple. Apparantly, it was your first time in Paris and you were quite awestricken by everything. Unfortunately, the...ladies there treated you badly. Jealous, I expect. Your father was drawn into one of the gaming rooms, leaving you at their mercy. That's when I stepped in. You had felt me when you came in, but I think that you were so overwhelmed and then those women...well, when I approached you, you seemed startled. But then we began talking and you relaxed considerably." A tiny smile curved Amanda's lips, making Devon suspicious. "How relaxed?" "Relaxed enough that you helped me to relieve several of the women of a few baubles." Devon laughed. "You mean, I stole from the creme de la creme of French society? Did anyone ever know?" "I don't look on it as stealing, I look on it as taking tribute for the awful way they treated you. And, no I don't believe anyone knew...except your father." Devon noticed the way Amanda's expression darkened. "Is that why he tried to keep you from finding me? He thought you were a bad influence?" Amanda fell silent, then got up and wandered over to the window. "No. Anyway, I spent the rest of the week showing you everything Paris had to offer. When your father was ready to go back to Scotland, you decided to stay, much to his chagrin, and we tore up the town- so to speak." Devon waited for Amanda to continue and when she did not, Devon prodded, "Go on. What exactly did we do?" "Oh a little of everything. We visited gaming hells, voodoo queens, late night parties and got into a lot of trouble. Soon, your father sent for you and when you resisted, he came after you. I didn't want to come between you, so I convinced you to go." Amanda remained facing away from Devon. Devon began to feel impatient. There was so much she wanted to know, so much Amanda could tell her, and it seemed like she was done talking. Devon was right. "Well, Devon, I am quite exhausted. I think I'll turn in now. I hope that my information was helpful for you..." "Amanda wait. I feel there is so much you're not telling me. You're leaving too much out." Amanda rubbed her temples wearily. "Yes, Devon, I am leaving a lot out. Things I am not prepared to tell you." "Then why did you tell me you wanted to talk about my past? I could have heard what you told me from anyone. We were intimate friends, you know things that might give a clue to who I was..." When Amanda tried to walk past her, Devon reached out and grabbed her arm. Amanda shoved her hand away with a violent gesture. "Enough! I do not let anyone bully me- even you! I have discussed our past as much as I am able and I will not say any more. Now, let me pass." Devon backed up. "Fine, Amanda. I thought you wanted to help me. Duncan was right, all you want to do is play games. Goodnight then, Amanda." She took off for her own room but stopped at the sound of Amanda's voice. "Your favorite food is apple torte. Your favorite color is green." Devon turned back to Amanda, gave her a small smile, and continued down the hall to her bedroom. Amanda let her go, waiting until Devon's door was shut before she allowed the tears to fall. After all these years, Joanna was still as unattainable as she had been before. Only it was Amanda who was keeping her away this time; she had no one else to blame but herself. Devon gazed sightlessly into the mirror as she brushed her thick red curls. The activity usually soothed her, but tonight, nothing seemed to help untangle her thoughts. Frustrated, she slammed the silver-handles brush on the vanity and rubbed her hands over her face. Why couldn't she remember? So many things had come back to her over the past few years- but not nearly enough. Through the mesh of her fingers she studied her reflection. How many identities had this one face had? How many people had looked into these eyes and trusted her, when all the time she was lying to them? Sighing, Devon picked up the brush again and resumed dragging it through her hair. The sense startled her from her contemplation and she turned toward the door expectantly. "Come in," she called. Amanda slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. "Peace?" Nodding quickly, Devon replied, "Peace." Amanda saw the brush in Devon's hand. "Thinking deep thoughts?" "Yes- how did you know?" A strange, hot light burned in Amanda's eyes. "You always used to brush your hair when you were mulling over something." "Oh." Devon absently rubbed her shoulder. Growing puzzled by Amanda's intense stare, she reached for the brush. Amanda cleared the small space between them and plucked it from Devon's fingers. "Let me," she murmurred and began to work on Devon's shining tresses with slow, easy strokes. Devon allowed her eyes to close and gave into Amanda's ministrations. The moments passed quickly, but for Amanda, it seemed like a lifetime went by as she watched Devon's relaxed expression. Suddenly, the brush faltered and Devon's lids flew up, her eyes meeting Amanda's in the looking glass. Devon gasped at the naked hunger there and time stopped as heat washed over her. The brush fell to the floor and Amanda lifted a shaking hand to touch Devon's cheek. Amanda slowly moved around the chair, took Devon's hand in hers and coaxed her to her feet. Mezmerized, Devon allowed Amanda to cup her chin and lift her chin. The kiss was a sweet, gentle touch, but it sent Devon's head reeling and she grasped Amanda's arms to steady herself. Amanda inhaled sharply and deepened the kiss, tracing her tongue along the contours of Devon's lips. Helplessly, Devon's mouth parted and she swayed closer to Amanda's slender frame, her hands buried in Amanda's short, black hair. "Oh Joanna, I've missed you." It was as if she had been doused with icy water. "No," Devon whimpered and thrust Amanda roughly from her. "I am not Joanna!" Amanda held onto the chair, her face a mask of sorrow and regret. "Devon...I'm sorry...please..." "Is this what you didn't want to tell me? Is it? You said we were intimate friends- when were you going to let me know how intimate? Why didn't you tell me we were lovers?" Amanda moved toward her, but Devon backed away. "Devon, please, part of Joanna is still there. The part that responded to me, the part that still wants me." "No." Devon shook her head. "Whatever feeling I had for you is a memory, a ghost. I will not give into it again. And we will never speak of it again...ever." Amanda drew herself up and gave a tiny, wry smile. "You are so much like your father." She moved to leave the room, but stopped suddenly. "By the way, I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here, but you should probably think of other arrangements soon. I need this room for important guests that I have on occasion. Good night, Devon." Then she was gone. Devon covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Oh God, what other secrets were locked inside her stubborn mind? She and Amanda had been lovers! Lovers! She took a deep breath to calm herself; she had to put Amanda out of her brain and concentrate on what she was going to do next. Well, she had already decided to stop running from her past- she did not want anymore suprises. And she certainly could not stay here, she and Duncan...Duncan! How could she have forgotten about Duncan? She had to talk to him right away, she had to tell him...what? That she and Amanda had been on the brink of reliving the torrid affair they had shared over 200 years before. No. She did not really have to tell him anything except that she was anxious to find more information about her past. Which brought her full circle...what was she going to do? Where was she going to go? All at once it hit her. She would go to New Orleans- where she had lost her damn memory in the first place. End of Part 8 =========================================================================