New fanfic: HIS BETTER HALF: An Elena Duran Story 3/8
Vi Moreau (vmoreau@ADELPHIA.NET)
Sun, 3 Jun 2001 05:01:46 -0400
HIS BETTER HALF: An Elena Duran Story 3/8
by Vi Moreau
vmoreau@adelphia.net
for thanks and disclaimers, see part 0
<An Immortal! !Carajo!> Elena took both of Alex's shoulders and turned her
to face out
the window. "Do you know him?" Elena asked, her voice a little harsh.
Maybe it was one of Connor's friends.
Alex leaned forward to get a better look, then said, "No, I've never seen
him before." Elena's hands were tight on her shoulders--a lot of tension
there. "Why, who--?"
"I don't know him. That's what worries me." Elena took her eyes from the
approaching Immortal, thinking, he could still be a friend of Connor's.
But just in case .... "Alex, get in your car and drive away," she ordered.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Drive to town, somewhere safe." She remembered Connor saying that
he'd built a new karate dojo in Glenaladale, and imported two [sensei,] a
husband-and-wife team from Okinawa, to run it. "Maybe to the karate dojo,
the
[sensei] are friends of yours, aren't they?" As she spoke, she pushed Alex
firmly toward the kitchen. "Don't come back without calling first."
Alex opened her mouth to say something else. But she suddenly had a vision
of Kane. Kane had been after Connor. This Immortal could be after Connor,
too. Why else would he be here? Elena's alarm reached out to Alex,
touching her, and Elena Duran did not strike her as the type to panic.
But what finally convinced Alex was the very sharp sword, free of its
scabbard again, that suddenly re-appeared in Elena's left hand, as if by
magic.
So, without further hesitation, Alex nodded, picked up her keys from the
pegboard and walked into the bathroom off the kitchen. Hidden in the
floor-to-ceiling cupboard in the bathroom was the entrance to a tunnel
Connor had had installed. The other end of the tunnel came out inside the
back of the MacLeods' garage. No sense letting this Immortal see her, Alex
thought.
Elena watched Alex head toward the bathroom instead of the front door --
maybe she was going out that window? Hopefully the Immortal at the back
door wouldn't see or hear-- The doorbell suddenly rang, and Elena jumped
slightly. She wanted to give Alex a chance to get to the garage, so she
delayed, taking deep breaths, calming herself, getting herself ready.
The doorbell rang again. <[!Que impaciente!]> She waited a moment more.
Then, holding her broadsword in a defensive stance, she opened the door
abruptly. "You rang?" she asked the man just outside the doorway.
If he was surprised to see her, he hid it well. "Yes; is the master of the
house about?" he asked, in an educated, clipped English accent.
The master? Elena thought, snorting internally. But she wanted him to come
inside, to make sure he had no chance of getting to Alex MacLeod. "Please
come in," she said, stepping to her right and inviting him in with a
flourish. "Let's talk."
Never taking his eyes off her, the Englishman came in fluidly and moved to
his right into the kitchen, away from the immediate reach of Elena's blade,
turning slightly as he moved so his right hand was closer to her.
Right-handed. Expensively dressed. Fit. About as tall as Connor, which
gave him a slightly longer reach than hers by several centimeters. Not [un
nuevo,] a new Immortal. Too confident; he moved too well and knew what to
do. Although his own blade was not visible, it was undoubtedly within easy
reach, inside the black leather coat.
Elena closed the door and used the tip of her sword to point the way into
the kitchen. She had no intention of dueling inside Connor's house--there
were too many valuable and beautiful items, and they'd make a mess of them.
As soon as they got through the formal introductions, and Elena heard Alex's
sports utility car, truck, whatever they called it, drive away, the two
Immortals would go outside, maybe behind the house .... unless they decided
not to fight.
She looked into his glittering, intelligent brown eyes, appraising her,
judging, and decided there was very little chance of that.
"I'm looking for Connor MacLeod," the man said calmly.
"I guessed that; but he's not here," Elena answered. "Perhaps I can help
you."
"My name is Simon Andrew, and I have no quarrel with you, my dear."
"I am not your dear," Elena answered, equally politely. "And I might have a
quarrel with you. I am--"
A noise from the front of the house made her glance that way, while not
completely
taking her attention off Simon Andrew. The front door burst open suddenly
and Alex MacLeod stumbled inside, obviously pushed. Behind Alex were two
men. Mortals, both with overcoats, hats, gloves--and a gun. Two guns,
actually--the taller man had a rifle.
<[!Carajo!]>
"Hey, guv," the taller man said to Andrew. "We found her in the garage,
trying to sneak away."
Andrew nodded. "Check the house and see if you can find the boy," he
ordered.
This told Elena one disturbing thing: this Simon Andrew knew that Connor had
a wife and son, and was not shy about using them against the Scot. Nor was
he shy about using guns.
"Coward," she said.
He grinned at her. "Spare me," he said, then told his other henchman,
"Thomas, keep your gun trained on the dark one. And you, my dear, will
divest yourself of that sword," the Immortal said flatly.
"No," Elena said, rasping, almost involuntarily, feeling fear snake its way
through her for the first time.
Simon shrugged. "Very well. Thomas, shoot her," he ordered.
"Wait," Elena said, holding up her right hand. She looked at Thomas' gun.
It was a Glock 9mm, and at this range it would blow her heart out of her
chest. Plus, there was the chance of Alex's getting hurt.
"All right," she sighed, her senses and instincts and training of almost
four hundred years rebelling against what she was about to do. She looked
out the window behind Simon at the unrelentingly cold rocks, hoping
futilely, stupidly, to see Duncan and Connor there. Where the hell were
they when she needed them?
"As long as you don't shoot her," Elena said, nodding at Alex.
"If this doesn't concern her," Simon replied. "we won't harm her."
It's the best she could get. Elena sighed. Well, she'd survived without
the
MacLeods before. And realistically, she
had no chance against both Thomas' gun and the Immortal's sword, especially
with Alex here. So she twirled the blade to point it down, jutting out of
the bottom of her fist like a dagger. Then, with a quick snap, she drove
the tip into the wooden floor. Thomas jumped at the sound, but Simon was
too cool for that.
It quivered slightly, the hilt swaying.
"Good girl," Simon said. "Now move away from it."
Elena took several steps back. Her eyes were locked with her Immortal
adversary's, death in her gaze. If he was impressed, he gave no sign of it.
And why should he? she thought bleakly. He had gunmen, and she had just
disarmed herself.
Thomas pushed Alex roughly against Elena, then moved to the side to cover
Elena more carefully.
Elena caught Alex and helped her regain her balance. She whispered, "Let
me take care of this," then took another look into Alex's eyes, to gauge the
other woman's state of mind. Alex looked scared, naturally, but calm
nonetheless. She nodded at Elena's suggestion, which meant she was at least
still thinking. Good.
"The boy isn't here," Elena said to Simon, not even wanting to give him
John's name, "and neither is Connor."
"Well, if I can't have MacLeod, I'll take his lovely wife instead," Simon
said, looking both women over.
That crystallized matters for Elena. Simon didn't know which one of them
was Connor's wife, and if he was willing to use the mortals ... Elena
realized what she had to do.
"Now you were about to introduce yourself, my dear. I take it you're the
lady of the house?" he asked Elena.
Elena took a deep breath. <Let's do it!> "I'm Alex MacLeod," she answered,
hoping desperately the American wouldn't give them away. Out of the corner
of her eye, she saw Alex startle slightly. Simon apparently hadn't, thank
God!
"A strong, spirited woman for his wife. You suit him." Then he asked Alex,
"And you are ...?"
"The blonde I told you about," Thomas contributed. "The one we saw in our
... surveillance, you know, talking to the big, dark bloke."
So they'd been watching them. This might not be as easy to pull off as she
expected, but .... "She's a friend, visiting with her husband, and has
nothing to do with us," Elena answered for Alex quickly. She shot Alex a
glance, grateful that Alex had gone along, hadn't given them away.
Unfortunately, Alex was wearing a wedding ring, and Elena was not. But that
could easily be explained. Most Immortals didn't wear rings, as they tended
to interfere with their swordplay. Besides, Simon Andrew was apparently
taking her word for it. Why shouldn't he?
But she still had to try: "He's not a part of this either," she continued,
sweeping with her hand toward Thomas, whose gun never wavered from her
chest. "Why don't you send them away, and you and I will go for a walk and
settle our differences one-on-one, as we're supposed to." She had no real
hope this would work, but at least it should take Simon's attention away
from Alex and back to her.
It did. Simon smiled at her. "Now why would I go to all the trouble and
expense to hire two gunmen if I'm not going to use them?" the Immortal
asked. "Does this seem reasonable to you?"
"Actually, it seems cowardly to me," Elena opined.
"Coward again? Is that the best you can do, my dear?"
"My dear" again. Elena wanted to strangle him with his own tie. She
resisted that suicidal impulse, and opened her mouth to give Simon Andrew
her further, more complete, unedited opinion of him.
But about this time the other gunman came downstairs. "Nobody around, guv.
But there are some nice things 'ere ...," he trailed off, looking around.
"'ey, nice sword!" he cried out, going towards Elena's sword.
Simon ordered, "Leave that where it is. I want MacLeod to see it when he
comes in. And we're not stealing anything, Jake. So empty your pockets."
"'ey!" Jake exclaimed again. "We're plannin' to kill this bloke, right? So
why not take--"
"Because I'm not a thief, this is *my* game, and you're being very well paid
to follow orders. Understood?" Simon said decisively.
Jake met Simon's eyes for a moment, then lowered his. "Yeah, right," he
answered, taking a small jewelry case out of his overcoat pocket and putting
it, reluctantly, on the kitchen counter.
Alex took a breath, and everyone looked at her. Elena held her breath, but
no one said anything else. She recognized the jewelry box as belonging on
Connor and Alex's dresser. The day before, while everyone else had gone
jogging, Elena had thoroughly explored the house. She was curious--plus,
she said to herself, she had wanted to mark every window and door, every
point of ingress and egress, upstairs and down. [Coitela]--caution--had
been pummeled into her at an early age.
"So what do we do, Mr. Andrew?" Thomas asked. "Wait for the Scot?"
<Oh, no!> Simon would quickly realize that Elena had lied to him. In fact,
there was a nice, smiling photo of Connor, Alex and John in the living room
that Jake had obviously missed. Simon wouldn't miss it. When he saw that,
"Off with her head!" Plus, the MacLeods, sensing the English Immortal,
would think it was Elena and walk right into a nice trap. Her mind raced,
trying to figure out a way to get the intruders out of the house. But she
didn't have to.
"No, we don't want to give him the home advantage," Simon answered. "We let
him come to us. And he will come, won't he, my dear?"
<Duncan will come, even if Connor doesn't.> Elena said, "If you call me 'my
dear' one more time, I'll hit you! Even if I do get shot for it!"
"And here I'm just trying to be polite," he said, in a mock hurt tone. He
looked at his men. "We're leaving, and taking Mrs. MacLeod with us." He
gestured to Elena. "Hands behind you, please."
Jake pulled some handcuffs out of his other coat pocket.
<[!Cono!]> She didn't even have a lock pick in her clothes on in her hair,
where she sometimes hid it. She looked once more at Thomas' gun, then did
as she was told, and Jake handcuffed her hands behind her back with an
audible click. A little tight, but she was not about to complain now. Now
she just wanted to get them out of there. Even if she was in deep trouble,
she could still get them away from Alex MacLeod.
But she could appeal to him one more time. "Don't do this, Simon. This is
not right. We can take care of this ourselves." When he didn't answer, she
added, "I thought the British always followed the rules."
"That is false rumor, undoubtedly started by the French," he stated.
She looked at him, puzzled. "I thought the British and the French were
allies," she said.
Simon jerked his head, and Jake took her by the arm and started walking her
toward the door. "Only in the last century," he said.
True enough, she thought. As they got to the door, she said, "Wait, listen.
It's cold outside; and I'm a delicate tropical flower." She might as well
see if Simon had a sense of humor, and try to make some connection with him
as well.
Simon snorted in amusement. "Delicate? Right. However..." He walked to
the coat rack by the kitchen door. "This one?" he asked Elena, reaching for
a well-worn, black trenchcoat.
Elena nodded, and he examined it closely, bringing out the throwing knife in
her pocket. "Naughty girl," he said, and put the knife down on the kitchen
counter.
Too bad, Elena thought. There was, however, a lock pick sewn into the hem.
He hadn't found that. Maybe she'd have a chance to get to it. Maybe.
"You, what's your name?" Simon asked Alex.
"Helen," she answered softly. "Helen Johnson."
"Johnson, eh?" he asked, his tone sceptical. "No matter. "Tell MacLeod
we'll be in touch," he said briskly.
"I'll tell him."
Elena looked at Alex. Alex was pale, and there was fear in her eyes, as wel
l
as other emotions; maybe sorrow, certainly guilt. But she was keeping
quiet, good for her. Elena gave her an encouraging smile. "It'll be all
right, Helen," she said, putting reassurance into her voice. "Just tell him
... tell him I love him."
Alex nodded once, solemnly. Much more scared than she would admit, even to
herself, she believed this might be the last time she'd see this vital woman
alive, and she could feel that coming regret now, already, welling up inside
her. Especially when she could do something about it, stop it--but she
wasn't going to do something about it, was she? She was going to go along
with Elena's bluff. She wasn't going to stop it. She wasn't going to take
Elena's place as Simon's prisoner. That would only get her kidnapped, and
not save Elena, she thought, desperately. Elena knew what she was doing.
Elena had volunteered for this. And Elena was smiling at her. <God!>
Alex felt a tightness in her throat. "I'll tell him," she repeated in a
whisper. Duncan, of course. She'd tell Duncan that Elena loved him.
Elena nodded as Jake pushed her toward the door. When they opened the door
Elena shivered. Simon walked up and put her coat around her shoulders.
Then Jake pushed Elena outside and carefully, politely, Simon closed the
door behind him.
The relief Alex felt when she realized the Immortal was leaving her behind
made her guilt swell to epic proportions.