========================================================================= Date: Tue, 16 Apr 1996 16:01:08 -0400 Reply-To: LC Krakowka Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: LC Krakowka Subject: Nothing Gold Can Stay 3/6 Nothing Gold Can Stay LC Krakowka hck1@cornell.edu copywrite-1996. [part3] *** A knock sounded on the door of Linna's hotel room. Paul was out prowling the streets, hoping to bump into Methos. She chuckled...like he would know him if he fell over him. She stubbed out her cigarette and got up, still trying to piece together the incident at the bar last night. There was no way that the red headed kid was Adam Pierson. MacGreggor had answered most of her questions about Methos...evasively...but still. How did she know so much about him? And that was no student of hers that she had walked in with. Professors don't hold hands with their students. Not in public anyway. That was Alan Rosen. But, aside from a different hair cut, he looked exactly the same as he had in Paris, all those years ago. How was that possible? Maybe she had been hallucinating. She yanked open the door and immediately wished she hadn't. "Linna, so good to see you again." "What do you want Mitch?" "The same thing you do." Linna glared up at him. "I told you, hunting is not for me. You guys have your fun." Somewhere in her heart, Linna believed that helping Paul find other immortals differed from using her skills to aide the Hunters. Semantics, really. Mitch elbowed his way past her and sat down on the bed. "Rumor has it you have a lead on Methos. Now, he'd be a good one to add to my trophy case, don't you think?" "Methos is a myth," she said flatly. "Oh, but your husband doesn't seem to think so. Where is Paul anyway? Out doing a little hunting of his own?" Linna sighed. The cat was out of the proverbial bag. "Okay, what do you want?" "I'll strike you a deal. You bring me Methos and I'll kill him while your Paul is in the room." Linna crossed to the desk and lit another cigarette, "If I bring you more than Methos, will you let Paul walk out of that room?" Mitch flashed a positively evil grin. "Just what do you have in mind?" "Both Sarah MacGreggor and Duncan MacLeod are here. If I bring you the two Highlanders, will you let Paul take all three quickenings and walk out with his head?" Another malevolent smile. "Linna, you should come back to our little club, you have a wonderfully ruthless mind and the disregard for immortals that could help you go far." "There is only one immortal I have any regard for," she said. "Now, do we have a deal or not?" *** Connor ducked the end of Sarah's quarter staff and swung at her feet, hoping to knock them out from underneath her. It didn't work. She jumped up about a foot and slammed the butt of her staff into his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him, then flipped the long pole in her hands and swept his left ankle upwards. He landed hard on his back and heard an unmistakable chuckle come from the skinny Englishman. "Lucky shot," he muttered as Sarah offered a hand up. "Oh, I think you're just getting rusty," she said. "Just you remember who taught you how to use one of these things, lassy." "It was the other way around, actually," she countered, tossing his staff back to him with a smile. "You know, if we were still in Scotland, I could beat you for that. A husband had the right to smack his wife around if she was mouthy." "I don't think that was the case if they were married by the local Blacksmith," Adam said from his spot near the window. "And I'd like to see you try to smack me around," Sarah added, glancing at her watch. "Oops. I have to go. I have an evening class." She tossed Connor her staff as well and grabbed her bag, heading for the showers. He watched her disappear into the locker room, then turned to Adam. "Is that what she told you? That it was the Blacksmith that married us?" Adam nodded. Connor shrugged and lofted the staff to Adam, who caught it in self defense. "How long have you known her?" Connor asked, twirling his own staff absently. "Since she died her mortal death." "So you're *that* Petey?" "Yes," Adam tapped the toe of his shoe with the staff and looked over at the Highlander. "What about you? How long have you known her?" "Oh, since I was a pup." "And it wasn't the Blacksmith that married you?" Connor shook his head, "Nope." "You two play nice now," Sarah said, coming from the locker room dressed in street clothes and smiling. "Yes mother," Connor snickered. "You too, Petey," she gave him a quick kiss and vanished out the door with a wave. "Okay MacLeod," Adam said, flipping the staff into a ready position. "Talk." Connor flashed a grin and crouched into a fighting stance. "If you want to know the whole story about your Sarie and me, you'll have to beat it out of me." Adam cocked an eyebrow and aimed the first blow for Connor's head. *** "What the hell happened to you?" Sarah asked, setting down her satchel and shrugging off her coat. Adam shrugged, but Richie chuckled from his spot on the couch. "God Petey, that's awful," she touched the livid bruise on his cheek lightly. "I'll live." She was about to ask what happened again, but the sensation of another immortal arriving distracted them all. "That would be Mac," Richie said, getting to his feet. "And Connor," he added, as both MacLeod's greeted him at the door. Sarah turned to say hello and slapped a hand over her mouth to conceal a bark of laughter. Connor was moving very gingerly and his face was marred by a black eye and a swollen lip. She bit back a smirk and covered her mouth again as Adam and Connor exchanged looks. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Duncan asked out of the corner of his mouth as he hugged her hello. Sarah nodded and took the wine bottle he offered, watching as Adam took their coats and headed for the closet. "You have to admit, it's kind of funny to see someone get under Petey's skin like this." Duncan cracked a grin. "And you know Connor is just loving it." Later that night, after the company had left and Sarah was busy doing the dishes, Adam wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the counter between her and the drying rack. His face had healed, but he was still looking a bit wounded. "So," she said, "did you and Connor have a nice little spar?" Adam opened his mouth, then closed it and repeated the action. "What's the real story with you two?" "I told you." "He tells a different tale. Said it was the Arch Bishop of Glasgow that married you. White dress and all the trimmings." "White dress?" Sarah laughed and reached behind him to set a pot in the rack. "He's just messing with your head. You're so gullible about this...he's having a blast watching you get all twisted up." "So you were never involved with him?" "Not that it matters, but no," she sighed, trying to keep annoyance from creeping into her tone. "Connor and I met up a few times in Europe. Then we took a boat to the states together and hung out in New York for a while. What is with this whole jealously thing? It's not like you." Adam shrugged. "I guess it just kind of bothers me that you have this part of your past that I know nothing about." "By that same token, there are about four *thousand* years of your life that I have no clue about. And then there are the six hundred between Germany and now." "I'll tell you, if you want to know." Sarah finished spraying out the last pot and set it on the rack. "And I'll tell you whatever you want to know...but you have to trust that I'm telling the truth. Or, you can go look me up in the Watcher files, but they've already been proven to be wrong about me and Connor. It's your call, Petey." Adam looked at her and smiled suddenly. "Did we just have our first fight?" Sarah narrowed her eyes and poked him playfully in the chest. "You'll know it when we have our first fight, Petey." *** Adam sat with a beer in hand and his ear to the bedroom door, listening to the conversation taking place in his living room. "You're welcome to borrow the Chronicles," Richie was saying. "But they're very cryptic and mostly in ancient languages." Linna Wolfram said something Adam couldn't quite make out. Then Sarie's voice came clearly through the door. "Look," she said. "I've been around for nearly a thousand years and all I've ever heard of Methos is that he's a myth." "Yes, well, myths don't spring from nowhere, do they?" Linna answered. "Can I ask why you have the sudden interest in Methos?" Richie said. "Just curious." Adam heard what he assumed to be the sound of Linna rising from the couch and picking up the heavy books. "I'll get your coat," Sarah said. He heard the closet door open and close. "How is that student of yours?" Linna asked. "Who?" "The one who got sick the other night." "Oh!" Sarah exclaimed. "Food poisoning. Nasty." The door to the apartment opened and their voices carried into the hallway, out of his earshot. Then heavy footsteps sounded back into the living room. "Here," Richie said. "You forgot these." Adam said a silent prayer. Please no. Please not the journals he had stacked so carefully on the corner of the desk and hidden under yesterday's newspaper. Please let the forgotten objects be her gloves. More voices in the hall. The door slammed. "Idiot!" Sarah exclaimed. Adam swore and came out from the bedroom. "What?" Richie asked indignantly. "*What*?" "Why didn't you just take her by the hand and lead her back into the bedroom shouting look, here he is...Methos!" She said loudly, waving her arms in exasperation. "What? You told me to give her the Chronicles!" "Those books, from the desk," Adam said, "those weren't the Chronicles. They were my journals." Richie paled. "Oh shit! Why didn't you stop me?!" "What was I supposed to do, say -no Richie, I mean Adam, not your journals. Those will give it all away?" She snapped. Richie looked wounded. "I'm sorry." Sarah looked like she was about to light into him again, but Adam lay a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay," he said. "This will all work out like it's supposed to." Richie hung his head. "I'm sorry, Adam. Really. I should go," he looked to Sarah, but her jaw was set. "Thanks for all your help," Adam said. "Help, yeah. Right." Richie grabbed his coat and trudged out the door. "You were awfully hard on him," Adam said. "He made an honest mistake." "An honest mistake that could cost you your *head*," she grumbled. "Just because Linna is married to an immortal doesn't mean they are after my head." "For someone as old as you are, Petey, you're awfully naive." Adam sank onto the couch and pulled her down into his lap. "Now who is trying to protect whom, my Sarie?" "Don't get wise with me, I'm in no mood," Sarah got up and paced over to the window. "Well, you're in a mood all right. Just not a good one." Sarah glared at him, but said nothing. Three hours later, he decided he was done tossing and turning alone in bed and got up. She was still standing at the window. He pulled the quilt from the back of the couch, threw it over his shoulders and looped both arms around her waist. "You should leave now, before it gets any worse," she said. "I'm not going anywhere." "Petey, don't be stupid. If you go now, you can just wait a month or so and it will all blow over. If you don't, you'll wind up bumping into her in the grocery store or something and then all hell will break loose." Adam shook his head. "I'm tired of living secret lives. And I won't leave you again." "I'm a big girl, I'll survive. I'd rather have you gone for a few months than lose you forever." He turned her around and took her by the shoulders, resting his forehead against hers. "I am not going anywhere. You and I have a shot at eternity together and I wouldn't trade that for anything." Sarah smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist. "How is it that you always have the perfect thing to say to melt my heart?" "Just lucky, I guess." The next morning, Sarah woke up to the smell of bacon cooking and the sound of the Temptations on the stereo. She stretched lazily and glanced at the clock, then threw herself out of bed with a loud oath. Her eleven-fifteen lecture on Symbols in 19th Century Woman's Literature had started twenty minutes ago. Adam came into the bedroom holding a tray of breakfast and hot tea and laughed as she struggled into a pair of jeans and yanked the nearest shirt over her head. It was his pajama top. "Have you looked out the window yet?" He asked. Sarah shook her head and looked around frantically for her left shoe. This living in two places was beginning to get confusing. She could never remember what was where. He set down the tray and crossed to the window, pulling back the curtains. A wall of swirling white snow was all she could see. "Duncan called earlier, they closed the University," Adam said with a grin. "Something about not being able to find it." "Thank the gods," she said, flopping back down onto the bed, missing shoe in hand. He closed the drapes again and brought her the tray. "Now, take off your clothes." "Excuse me?" "You don't really think I am going to pass up an opportunity to spend the day naked in bed with you, do you?" [end pt 3] -- LC Krakowka/ hck1@cornell.edu |CIT Lab WebMistress/LTC Team ***MFW Cavalry--We're tougher than we look.*** The host is riding from Knocknarea /And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare; Caoilte tossing his burning hair, /And Niamh calling Away, come away: Empty your heart of its mortal dream. -Yeats