Doubled Edge 10/10

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Doubled Edge by Katt Solano
discliamers & further hoopla in part 0
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Montgomery home
Hilo, Hawaii

"Ow, ow, ow, *_ow_*!" Jean's body jerked as Connor and Duncan popped His
shoulder back into its socket. Clutching the abused appendage,
heslowlycurled into a ball and cursed his allergies. A shot of morphine or
anyother anaesthetic would send him into convulsions and most likely a coma.
And he was really much too tired to do that self-hypnosis that Zac had
taught him.

John hadn't left his side. In the confusion-- what with the police and the
fire department and the military descending on the campus-- Darcfyr and
Stiletto had disappeared. Typical. Apparently, Darcfyr had become something
of a hero-idol to the young man, much to the Xeno's chagrin when Jean had
sent that information.

"If you're going to interrogate me," Jean said, eyes still closed, "Can I
please have a glass of water first?"

John leapt to his feet to get to the kitchen but Duncan grabbed his arms.
"First, you tell us who you are."

"And why you've seen it fit to drag _us_ into this mess," added Methos, "As
if we didn't have enough to worry about."

"Not possible." It really quite funny, Methos reflected, how the whole lot
of them jumped when Darcfyr and Stiletto appeared out of the shadows. The
MacLeods still hadn't let go of their swords. The Ichor Born were stiff with
tension. Only he, John and Alex seemed relaxed though Methos suspected that
it was shock on the good professor's part.

"It's the least you can do," growled Connor, " My sonwas almost killed
because of you and your stupid war!"

"No," Kay denied, "Your son was almost killed because of your stupid
Scottish mule-headedness. I _told_ you--" Darcfyr touched her shoulder,
ceasing her tirade.

"Told me what?" Connor demanded.

Kay looked away, arms crossed, lips pouted.

"_What_?"

"We can't talk freely with Ichor Born around," Jean said.

"We will not leave without the Pearl," Kala countered.

Jean cracked an eyelid open and saw his father'sminute nod. "You can have
the Pearl," said Jean, "in four stan weeks' time."

"We will have the Pearl in two stan-days' time," said
Kala.

"Three weeks and three days."

"One week and one day."

"Two weeks and eight days."

"Two weeks and four."

"Done." Grudgingly, the two shook hands. "Do not be late."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Jean shot them a curt saluteas they left the
bungalow.

Duncan gaped, unable to believe what had justhappened. "That's it?" he
bellowed, "Ye drag us through three continents, twa oceans an' World
_fuckin'_ War Three fer tha'?!"

"Don't tell me it wasn't exciting," said Kay with an impish smirk.

Duncan had never so desired to squeeze the life out of a woman as he did at
that moment. He clenched his fists until his nails bit into his skin to keep
himself from fulfilling the dream. Methos, however, had no such compulsion.
He smacked Kay smartly upside the head then delivered a terrific right
cross.

"I have had the worst two months of my life because of you," he said calmly
as he watched her pick herself off of the floor. "My internal clock is
broken. I've had an average of four hours of sleep a week. I've been shot
at, clawed, stabbed, vomited upon, sliced, sunburnt-- and to top it all off,
my favourite set of boxers are in shreds."

Kay wiggled her throbbing jaw. Then, she beamed.Tugging on Luc's arm, She
proclaimed, "I like him! Can I keep him?"

"What _are_ you?" Alex asked.

"Us personally? We're what happens when scientists tryto help nature along,"
replied Kay. To demonstrate, she picked up a cotton ball and charged it
until it fizzled into ash.

"Scientists did this?"

"Yep. Nice to know where your tax dollars are going, ain't it?" Kay picked
up another cotton ball. This time, Luc touched it with a forefinger and it
burst into flames. "Genetically mutated or engineered humans designed to be
ultimate weapons. Except they didn't do the lobotomy job too well on us so
we high-tailed it out of there."

"What does this have to do with me?" Connor's voice had become deceptively
low and accentless. A bad sign. The more Connor MacLeod was in control of
himself, the closer he was to the breaking point.

In response, Darcfyr reached behind him and pulled out John's wakizashi and
tanto.

"We need you to translate the rest of the Pearl for us," said Kay, "And we
think these carvings are the key."

"What," continued Connor in that dangerous tone, "am I doing with a code for
some stupid secret army that I know nothing about?"

"And even if he did know about it," Duncan put in,"why would he endanger his
own son by giving _him_ the code?"

The three Xenos exchanged looks. Duncan had a feeling they were holding a
silent conversation. The quiet one in the mask, Darcfyr, seemed to nod His
head. Jean/Tyce/Jetblayd shrugged and placed a hand on Connor's brow. His
kinsman looked pained then gradually, shock and disbelief coloured his face.

He sank into chair. His head dropped into his callused hands and he dragged
them through his hair over and over again as if he wanted to tear it out.

"Connor?" Duncan put a hand on his kinsman's shoulder.

Connor barely felt it. ::This is crazy,:: he sent, ::I can't believe... how
can I...::

Kay smiled sadly. ::Sorry. We tried not to drag you in again. :: Regret,
hers, Luc's and Jean's, flowed through the telepathic connection. "The Pearl
has information we need," she said aloud, "And if you haven't figured it out
already, we secret societies don't like to share."

"Kala did tell us your people and her people don't get along too well,"
Methos said.

Jean's smile was slightly twisted. "Actually, their people do their best to
kill our people. We simply try to piss them off occasionally." He splayed
his hands in front of him. "Cards on the table. We have no intention of
giving the Pearl back in that time; eventually, yes, but we need more time
to study it, to get its juices."

"And I'm the only one who can do that for you." Connor leaned back away from
the table and tipped his head back, eyes still shut.

"Why should you?" Duncan threw the Xenos a fiery glare. "This is blackmail,
Connor. You've never put up with that before."

"This is different," said his kinsman.

"Why?"

The elder MacLeod straightened. "Duncan," he said in Gáidhlig, "there are
things that I cannot tell you, just as I know that I am not privy to
everything that has gone on in your life." He held up a hand to halt the
protests that Duncan was about to say. "Do not tell me this is not so for I
will know it to be a lie. I ask you to trust my judgement in this." He
switched back to English, this time needing to address his wife and son as
well. "I must help them."

An irate hiss blew out of Duncan's lips. "You are the elder, Connor. You've
been making your own decisions long before I was born."

"Thank you for acknowledging that," Connor said sardonically.

"But," Duncan turned his attention back to Jetblayd and hit partners, "I
still want to know why the cloak and dagger act was necessary. You could
have just given the Pearl to Connor; it wouldn't have taken so long and the
Caelum wouldn't have been able to hurt any innocents."

"Innocents, eh?" Duncan whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice as
well as the throb of an Immortal's song. The man who called himself Noel
MacLeod stepped out of a dark corner of the house. He jerked his head at the
other Xenos "Sorry I'm late. I was detained."

Kay waved the excuse away. "Pull up a chair, Rydr. We were about to get to
the good part."

"So I heard." He refused the seat though, opting to stay stiffly behind the
invisible line between the Xenos and the natives of the flip. "Sae, Duncan
MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, ye were speakin' o' innocents."

As before, Duncan's mouth opened and closed soundlessly several times before
he could actually get any words out. "Ye're safe."

"Aye," said Noel evenly, "I've been staying well away from dragon-headed
katanas of late."

"Richie--" Duncan took a step forward.

In a flash, Noel had his sabre out and slammed it on the table between them.
"Stay... over there," he said shakily. His wild eyes still glued on Duncan,
he addressed Jean. "It was my assignment, 'Blayd."

His friend shrugged. "So now it's yours again. Thought I'd save you the
boring stuff. It's the least I can do."

Duncan tried again. "What will you do now?"

"Finish this operation," replied Noel, "And say hello." He yanked the blades
out of the heavy pine and, with a twirling flare, shot it home to the
scabbard at his back. His lips curled up into a smile that Duncan had
thought he'd never see again, a warm, tender smile that lifted the hardness
from his face and made him look like the child he had been when he'd had his
First Death. But when he came around the table, his arms held open, it
wasn't Duncan that Richie squeezed in an embrace, eyes brilliant, shoulders
shaking.

It was Connor.

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