Highlander
"Reforming Kenny"
Summary:
When Duncan MacLeod once more runs across the Child Immortal
Kenny,
he decides it's time someone took the boy in hand. A firm
hand.
Author's Note: Post-Series; before "End Game".
Rating: PG to PG-13--for swearing (this IS Kenny, after all)
Warnings: This fic will contain spanking of an Immortal minor.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I
just wrote this story for
fun.
Chapter 1: Running into Kenny
Duncan MacLeod walked down the chilly streets
of Seacouver in the
late afternoon, deep in thought. It had been a
year or more now since
he'd last been here. The overcast skies
that threatened rain didn't
bother him any, as it reflected the
somber mood he was in nicely.
More than a year ago, he had
decided it was best all around if he
left Seacouver. Not only were
there too many good/painful memories,
mostly of Tessa and Richie,
here; but also there were too many
Immortals. With the Gathering
coming, more and more challengers had
started to crop up, and most
of them usually of the dishonarable
variety. To protect those
closest to him, he had left.
So, why had in returned now? That
was a question he was still asking
himself. Joe was still around,
of course; as his Watcher it was the
man's job to follow him
whereever he went. Methos was probably
lurking about somewhere,
and Amanda was who knew where. There wasn't
anything or anyone
left here for him, so why had he returned?
Perhaps it had to
do with the mood he'd been in lately. After
wandering for more
than a year, revisiting "old" friends or their
graves,
spending some time with Connor in New York, and even
returning
home to Glen Fenin, he had finally returned to Sea Couver
to
settle down. Paris held no joy for him anymore and Scotland was
the
land of his birth, it too did not appeal to him in any kind of
way.
So, it was to this city in Washington State that he had
returned
to.
He still owned the dojo, but had yet decided
whether he was going to
re-open it or not. He had actually been
considering taking a job as a
history professor that one of his
old mortal friends had mentioned.
They were looking for someone
who was an expert at Celtic History and
who better than Duncan
MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, a true-born Celt.
The presence of
another Immortal washed over him and he sighed. He'd
been
wondering when a challenger would make an appearance. He had
been
back now for several weeks and there hadn't been any sign of
another
Immortal, friend or foe. He had actually been hoping his
arrival
back hadn't been noticed by anyone, but apparently that was
not
the case.
Out of the alley in front of him came barreling a
boy straight for
him. He was a lad of ten in filthy clothes with
dirty blonde hair and
even dirtier face. At the sight of him,
Duncan's face hardened. This
was one boy he knew all too well. It
was the Child Immortal, Kenny,
who had crossed his path on two
seperate occasions in the past and
neither of them had actually
been friendly.
The boy was over eight hundred years old. He
had survived by using
his own innocence as a weapon. Luring
gullible Immortals in with a
child-like demeanor, he would then
take their heads while their backs
were turned. He'd actually
tried it with Duncan, but had failed; both
times. Of course, the
kid was also a frequent target of head hunters
out for an easy
Quickening so he had a reason to fear someone taking
his
head.
The kid apparently didn't see him or didn't care at that
moment
because he plowed right into him, nearly knocking him over.
Kenny
landed in a heap at his feet, letting loose a barrage of
swear words
that would have gotten his mouth washed out with soap
if he were
a "normal" ten year old. Looking up, he found
Duncan glaring down at
him and groaned.
"What are YOU
doing here?" The Child Immortal asked him, getting to
his
feet. "I'd heard you went off to bury your head in the sand
or
something!"
Duncan scowled at the boy. "The
question is, Kenny," he said,
coldly, "what are YOU up
to?"
"I ain't up to nothing, MacLeod," the boy
said, rudely. "In fact, I'm
kinda in a hurry..." He
trailed off as the presence of another
Immortal washed over both
of them.
Duncan looked back towards the alley as a man in
black, and carrying
a rather large broad sword, stepped from it.
He had a mean looking
face and an even meaner scar.
"A friend of yours?" Duncan asked Kenny, smirking.
The boy's
face had gone very pale and he was actually
trembling. "Dmn!"
he swore. "I thought I lost him! Thanks a lot,
MacLeod."
"I
don't know who you are," the black garbed Immortal spoke
to
Duncan, "but the brat is mine!"
Duncna raised
an eyebrow. "Just exactly, friend," Duncan said,
coldly,
"what did an unarmed boy do to you?" He knew EXACTLY
what
Kenny was capable of, but he also knew that the kid didn't
stand a
chance in an actual fight with an Immortal. He may not
like the kid,
but he certainly didn't want him dead, either.
The
black garbed man laughed. "That brat is no boy," he
snarled. "I
do thank you for saving me the trouble of chasing
his scrawny as all
over the city, though. It makes my job that
much easier." With that,
he whipped out a hand gun from
behind his back and shot the Child
Immortal before Duncan could
react.
That did it! A challenge was one thing, but cold
blooded murder was
another. As Kenny fell to the ground in death,
Duncan purposely
placed himself in between the boy and the head
hunter. His katana was
in his hand and at the ready in an
instant.
"I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod,"
he spoke his traditional
challenge, "and afore you take this
lad's head yer'll hav'ta take
mine and be assured, friend, I am
not so easy a target."
"Damien Karne," Mr.
Broadsword said, smiling wickedly. "All to the
better. I'll
take the head of the Highlander and get the brat as a
bonus. What
a lucky day's its been!" He moved to attack.
"We'll
see how lucky you are," Duncan said, counting the man's
wide
sweep of his broad sword with a block of his own. The clash
of swords
echoed off the building around them. Thankfully, due to
the whether,
no one was out and about today. Plus, this area was
scarsely
populated which also gave them a measure of privacy.
The
two adult Immortals fought for several minutes, gauging each
other.
Karne began to sweat, realizing too late that the Highlander
was
by far a better swordsman than himself. Duncan knew it, and was
just
waiting for the man to make a fatal mistake before delivering
that
fatal blow. When it came, he struck.
The Quickening that
followed shattered windows and cars, caused a
hyrdrant to burst,
and caused man holes to blow off their covers.
When it was over,
Duncan was exhausted. Looking over at where Kenny's
body still
lay, he scowled, "What am I going to do with you?" He
shook
his head in disgust as he got to his feet.
Hearing sirens in
the distance, he knew it was time to leave.
Retrieving his katana,
he walked over to the Child Immortal. He had
once been sympathetic
to the kid and that had come back to bite him
in the butt, both
times. Could he afford to do it a third time, or
should he do
everyone a favor and just take the kid's head himself.
No!
That was out of the question. He would never again take the head
of
a child, not after...but that didn't matter right now. No matter
what
he couldn't just leave the kid lying there. Bending down, he
scooped
the boy into his arms and made his way from the scene just
moment
before several police cars appeared.
Getting into his black
T-Bird, he carefully put the still unconscious
Child Immortal in
the back seat, got in and headed for home. What he
was going to do
with the brat when he got there, he had no idea. He
supposed, he'd
play it by ear...or he just might box the kid's ears
if he gave
him any trouble. That thought definitely had some merit
to
it.
TBC...Please,let me know what you think? I'd greatly appreciate it.