Title: Pearl of Great Price Author: Kat Solano Email: orchydd@hotmail.com Rating: PG-13 Keywords: Action, Clan Denial admirer Characters: DM, M, J, RR, lots of OFC's Summary & Disclaimer in Part 0/5 ******************************************** The Aerie Tower... Luc couldn’t hold back the ecstatic groan of relief. His muscles bunched reflexively for a moment before turning into warm jelly. Kay grinned, big and wide, all teeth. “That did it, huh?” Her husband could only drool in response. “You silly little half-breed.” She kissed his slightly pointy ear, tugging lightly on the platinum hoop that pierced through the cartilaginous tip. “If I’d known when we first met that a simple back rub would put you under my control I would’ve been on you like flies on a litter box.” “Rmmhmm.” :~:And I would have thought twice before trying to kill you so many times.:~: Laughter poured easily out of Kay’s mouth; true laughter, not the cheerful façade that she’d worn for more than half her life. “My turn?” “As you wish.” Luc flipped over on his back, a smooth, sinuous movement that belied his elfin parentage, taking Kay with him so that she straddled his torso. :~:What I’d like to know is why you sent our innocent little son Balancing. Irheri, you know I love Jean but he is not in the proper mental state to lead a team.:~: :~:I thought it was about time he started leading.:~: She tucked her head in the area under his chin. Automatically, his hand cradled her head, keeping her in place. :~:I know you worry about him. So do I. That’s why I sent him. He’s not going to do the Focus any good when we treat him like he’s a spittoon from the Ming Dynasty.:~: :~:I know that! I just...:~: He clenched his eyes shut, forcing back visions of his past/present/future. :~:I don’t want to push him too hard. I’ve been where he is, where emotions were new and damned frightening and everything that mattered was how much I was going to mess up.:~: :~:And I haven’t?!:~: She punched her mate not lightly. :~:Can’t you feel my on-coming nervous break down? It’s not healthy for him to be a punching bag, irheri, no matter how much he seems to think so.:~: :~:I offered to let everyone loose on him the first day, but noooo!:~: :~:Luuuc!:~: :~:Kaaay!:~: He straightened into a cross-legged sit, still keeping his little mate cradled in his arms. “At least this expedition isn’t just for Jean’s sake. Mikala was starting to get on my nerves.” Kay laughed at that, knowing all too well how close the perky new Xeno was to being strangled. “And Noel needed to get back to his home flip and close things up.” Kay nodded, agreeing completely. “Yeah. I wish he’d let some of us know why he hates the place so much. Most people in the Underground try to visit their homes as much as possible even though they can’t come back as themselves.” :~:Ise’tin, don’t pry:~: “I do not pry!” Seeing Luc’s brows rise in mocking disbelief, she corrected, “Well, not often,” in a prim voice. “Noel...” Luc, never good with words, searched his mind for the proper gist of what he felt from that man. “He has been a good friend to us, was one of the few people who believed in me when everyone thought I was going to murder ye all in yuir beds. He’s very nearly kept Jean sane the first few stan months that we found him. For that reason alone, I’m willing to let him be.” He kissed Kay’s cheek. Kay returned the kiss and gave his shoulder a squeeze in interest. “I know that. God knows I love him like a big brother. But it’s not just us now. As a Guardian in the Underground and a Xeno Core warrior besides, he needed to be full in body, in mind and in soul. And Noel MacLeod has had this... this jagged wound in his soul that’s been going putrid years before the Lab got us.” * * * * * Flip G-11: Oldside Seacouver, USA... Noel’s eyes snapped open even before his alarm clock went off. His roommate was decidedly less perky in the morning, but Jean, too, obeyed the buzzer, stretching and yawning like a gigantic, auburn-haired cat. Which, considering the species his grandmother fell under, was probably closer to the correct description than not. The two men dressed silently for their morning jog. The early morning workout was a ritual for Noel and Jean loved rituals. It was funny, reflected the Scotsman with a mental sarcasm that belied the thought. Jean was infinitely more powerful than he, had been raised to rule one country and was now co-ruler of an entire galaxy, but he looked and acted like a boy. Not that his own permanently nineteen year old visage would inspire anyone to buy him a wheelchair but Noel knew that his eyes revealed his nature all too clearly. At times, he felt like ruffling Jean’s hair like a kindergartener who’d managed to colour within the lines. The younger man certainly encouraged the behaviour; he had been all but aping Noel since he joined the Underground. Jean reminded him of himself, once upon a time, when he was still innocent enough to believe his father figure could do no wrong. Dammit, those thoughts were much too maudlin this early in the morning. ::Must be coming back that’s got me all emotional.:: They jogged to Stanton Park and along its seawall. Noel still marvelled at how much of the place he could remember. That mermaid/diver/lover statue was still perched on the boulder in the middle of the bay; he knew word for word the arguments they used to have about exactly what the female was. The totem poles were still up though brightened up by a fresh coast of paint and the area around it had been landscaped to resemble a gulf island. Maybe if he looked, he’d see his name carved-- No... this may not even be his true home flip. And if he checked and his name wasn’t there, he’d go nuts. Again. They stopped to cool off a bit just before the zoo entrance. At least, the place that had been the zoo before it closed down. Noel couldn’t stop the nostalgic sigh at the sight of those barred gates. He’d spent more than one fantastic day touring that place. Nowadays, however, cages made him antsy. He suspected the same of anyone who had to go through the Lab. He knew that Mikala was terrified of the dark. Jean was already in place for the kata by the time Noel shook himself out of his reverie. The younger man quirked a smile in his direction, still looking for orders. Noel rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Fer the last time, ye mozie auld poutworm, stop lookin’ tae me like I’m Christ and yuir Judas Iscariot himself lookin’ fer absolution. Ye can verra well do the kata by yuirself.” Jean went red, a truly interesting phenomenon considering his toffee coloured skin. “I’m not sure I’m doing the moves correctly.” “It isnae about doing the movements themselves correctly,” said Noel, “It’s about centring yuirself, being aware of each motion yuir body makes as ye go from one position tae the other as well as every move all around ye.” “You’d have to be Sovereign to do that,” Jean commented, grinning widely. “Aye, well, I’ve been told of my delusions of grandeur often enough. By that besom ye call yuir sister, in fact.” Jean snorted back his chuckle. “That sounds like something she’d say.” “Anyone who isnae yuir father, yuir mother or God is fair game tae her.” “So I’ve realised.” His grip of the two short swords relaxed slightly as Noel stood a good six feet away from him. He knew that Noel wanted him to make up his own kata, one more suited to his leaner, more flexible body but Jean didn’t feel up to it. He’d been following orders all his life and he wasn’t quite comfortable yet with making up his own mind. Which, in the end, was what this mission was all about. Closing his eyes, Noel inhaled the sea-flavoured air into his eternally youthful lungs, deep, soothing breaths that began to form a rhythm. His soul connected to his mind connected to his head connected to his shoulders connected to his arms connected to the muscles of his chest, and his lungs and his heart, thumping out the beat of his breathing... connected to his legs, connected to his feet, connected to the ground under which the molten core of the world shifted and moaned... connected to the sun, connected to the solar system, connected to the spiral cluster of stars called Whitsandii or the Milky Way... connected to the Sovereigns who controlled and were controlled by the energies of their galaxy... connected to the cosmos, connected to his soul. And he began. After a good fifteen minutes, people began to crowd around them to watch. Noel, completely involved in the kata, didn’t see them but Jean did. The meditative exercise failed to embrace him today. Too many thoughts clustering about in his head. What in destruction’s name was Luc and Kay been thinking to make him lead this team? Noel wouldn’t have been a far better choice; he was deputy leader of a Xeno Core sect and had had years of previous experience Balancing. He could think quickly whereas Jean tended to reflect and re-reflect plans over and over ad infinitum until, more often than not, it was too late to do anything. Jean vomited before a battle, vomited after a battle and vomited at the taste of his own vomit-- Smack! “Ow!” Jean skipped away from the flat of the blade that Noel had rapped upside his head. “What did you do that for?” “Ye’re thinking too loudly,” his elder commented. That said, he moved back into position. Sighing, Jean copied the pose, forcing his damned mind to go blank. Moments later, Noel thunked him again, this time just above his ear. “Stop that!” Jean rubbed the throbbing stop just above his nape. “I was trying to concentrate.” “Mo caraid, ye really dinna know how loudly ye project yuir thoughts, do ye? I wager everyone within fifty metres o’ ye inexplicably taste regurgitated tacos as we speak. Ye didna eat tacos the last time we fought.” “Yes, but that was what we ate yesterday.” He switched to rubbing his roiling stomach. “Want some breakfast?” With a sighed oath, Noel nodded. He’d certainly lost his concentration. Besides, he’d worked up enough of a sweat to be satisfied with the exercise. “I saw a fair lookin’ restaurant on the way here. Come on.” They hadn’t gone for more than a hundred metres when Noel felt the unmistakable song of an Immortal presence. ~*~*~ Methos sprawled on the wooden bench overlooking the bay where the sun had just slipped completely from the horizon. It wasn’t that he woke up early; he just hadn’t slept at all the night before. In celebration of that fact, he was enjoying his morning beer. A nice warm McClay Scotch Ale, to be exact. Altogether, very apt considering that he was semi-brooding about a Scotsman. Damn, MacLeod, anyway! Young ones were always felt too much and acted too quickly on those feelings. I give it another five hundred years, he thought, And we’ll see that varnish dull a bit. Then, with a sigh, he stopped deluding himself. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod would probably lose some shine but he’d retain that damned unfashionable, unwise code of bloody honour. Stupid git. He was in mid-gulp of that lovely dark ale when his head buzzed with an Immortal’s presence-song. Casually, never one to start on a panic, his left hand drifted inside his coat to loosen the modified scabbard in the lining of his coat. Then, he let his hand sit on his thigh, inches from the hilt of his sword. The ale went down a bit roughly. That song was familiar. Or perhaps, uncanny was a better word. He twisted his head to look. And dropped the bloody McClay. _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com.