DISCLAIMER: Highlander, Raven and their canon characters are the property of Davis/Panzer Productions; no copyright infringement is intended.

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This is where it all began.


Nick Wolfe hadn't thought of that when he returned to Central Park.

But now he found himself within a few yards of the spot where he'd met Bert Myers. Where he'd "killed" Frank Brennan.

He suppressed a shudder.

Almost four years ago, it had been. He'd stayed in New York longer than usual that time, because he'd brought Julie along. The buddy he always met here had also proudly introduced a new girlfriend, and Nick and Julie had lingered while the foursome painted the town.

But that buggy ride in the park had been planned as a private, romantic interlude for Julie and himself.

Some romantic interlude, he thought sourly. Only they and their driver had heard the fracas. In a city of eight million people, he'd been the only one with a chance to stop Brennan from murdering Myers.

I wonder if pre-Immortals are destined to run into other pre-Immortals...and full Immortals? That would explain a lot. There may not be many of us. But we keep meeting up with our own kind, again and again.
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Hopefully, though, he wouldn't meet any for a while. Still trying to adjust to his Immortality, he had no desire to see Amanda, or even Liam. He tried not to think about actual enemies.

No, he was going to enjoy this New York visit, as he always did. His old friend hadn't checked into his usual hotel when Nick had called the night before, but he was bound to show up today. They'd be together tomorrow, keeping each other focused. Nick was determined that for this week, at least, he'd resume a semblance of a normal life.
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Sure he would.

Before he'd torn his gaze away from the site of Frank Brennan's first "death," he felt the sudden, violent throbbing in his head that heralded the approach of another Immortal.

Oh God, no. Not here.

Nick still didn't own a sword. If he had owned one, he couldn't have concealed it in his running shorts.

Unfortunately, he couldn't conceal a gun in running shorts, either. So his gun was locked in the glove compartment of his rented SUV, parked near the Tavern on the Green.

So far away that it might as well have been in Brooklyn.

Okay, don't panic. Try to use the Immortal-sensation to identify the direction he's coming from, then mute it.

I'm a former pro boxer, and I'm really young. I'm going to be faster on my feet than the other guy, better at hand-to-hand combat. All I have to do is make him drop his sword. Duck and weave until I can trip him.


Sure he was facing in the right direction, he assumed a boxer's defensive stance.
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And heard a ripple of laughter.

Then, from behind a clump of bushes, there came an amused male voice. "Of all things, a bouncing baby Immortal! Fierce little tyke, aren't you? Are you planning to rip my head off with your bare hands?"

Nick was too stunned to be embarrassed. That voice, that familiar British accent...

A lean, brown-haired man strolled out from behind the shrubs. "Seriously, Nick, I'm glad you've arrived. In both senses."

Seeing Nick still frozen in shock, he grinned, and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Come on, Nick. Do you think I have a secret sword compartment in my shorts? At the moment, I'm as defenseless as you are. And the last I knew, we were friends."

"Adam?" Nick somehow unclenched his fists and brought his hands down to his sides. Unable to stop himself, he blurted out, "You're one of them?"

"Tsk-tsk. The correct phrase is 'one of us,' Nick. I'm one of us, and you're one of us. Got that?"

"Yeah." Nick realized he was shaking. "It's just that, aside from Liam Riley, all the Immortals I've met have been thieves or murderers. Plus one out-and-out monster."

"Julian Heller." Adam's smile had vanished. "You should thank whatever god you believe in that you took his head before you became Immortal. A seasoned Immortal like Amanda could handle his Quickening, but there's no telling what it might have done to you.

"Anyway, I'm just a guy. As white-bread as they come." He was smiling again. But Nick mentally classified it as a sly smile.

"So you knew what had been going on in my life before you came here," he said slowly. "And you know Amanda."

"Guilty as charged," Adam admitted cheerfully. "But I haven't been in touch with her for almost a year. It was another mutual acquaintance, Joe Dawson, who filled me in."

His eyes widened in alarm. "That makes me think. I hope you lost your Watcher before you came to the park! Except for Joe, the Watchers don't know about me, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Don't worry." Nick chuckled. "I lost my Watcher before I came to New York. I hate being followed, and I'm very good at losing tails. I've hacked into the Watchers' files, and discovered three of them have already given up on me and asked to be reassigned."

"Oh, that's good, that's very good." Adam beamed at him like a proud uncle. "I thought of calling and leveling with you last week. But Joe had said you were trying to avoid all Immortals, even Liam. I was afraid that if I told you what I am, you'd stay home and sulk. And youngsters, even Immortal youngsters, need their exercise."

"Glad I didn't stay home." Nick was relaxing at last. "Come to think of it, I have occasionally wondered what you did in between."

"In between?" Adam's eyebrows shot up. "That's right, we've never discussed it. But I hope you don't imagine I spend all the in-between time chopping people's heads off. Right now, I'm writing a screenplay--"

"You're doing what?" Another mind-boggling shock. Nick searched his friend's face for any sign he was joking. "I'm writing a screenplay, too!"

Adam gaped in disbelief.

Then they both dissolved in laughter.

"Great minds," Adam choked out when he'd caught his breath. He wiped tears from his eyes, while Nick had another fit of giggles. "Come on, let's adjourn to a bar. We've got all week to train for the Marathon.

"And since you're going to be around for a while, I may as well tell you that my name isn't really Adam Pierson..."
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(The End)