The characters of Angel/Angelus, Buffy, and all of the others in Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to WB while Joe Dawson, Duncan McLeod and Richie and other Highlander characters belong to the producers of Highlander
If I butcher these characters, it has no standing on the shows themselves. The characters San Salvador and Johnny are of my creation and shouldn't be used without my permission.
They live among us, they are like us mortals except they cannot die, they are Immortal.
They fight one another in a Game to the death to determine who is the One in the end.
Some have decided the fates of many in history, some have gone along just for the ride, not making much todo in history. But there are ones who want nothing to do with history but end up making it anyways.
They are the true Immortals. Her name is Sandra Salvador. She is the Black Rose Assassin, Hunter, Warrior. Taught by Duncan MacLeod, the Highlander, to fight, to live, to survive the ages.
She is Immortal. . .
(paraphrased from 'By the Firelight') John Alberts, 1996.
Mr. Joe Dawson,
If this letter reaches you, I'm most likely dead. I have asked San to get you a copy of my journal for hopes that the Watchers might understand what I did and why I did it.. San promised me that she would write down any sort of gaps that might occur in my journal due to me dying.
I'm sorry and I hope you forgive me someday for what I have done.
John Alberts, ex-Watcher
Journal records of John Alberts... April 26, 1995
My name is John Alberts and I am now officially a Watcher, part of a group of people whose purpose is to observe Immortals without interfering with their lives. This is my first assignment and I hope I can live up to to their comparisons to my father before he died. My first assignment is to observe a sixty-nine year old Immortal named Sandra (San) Salvador. According to Watcher records, the last two Watchers died doing their duty following her. She was known during the early seventies through the mid eighties as the Black Rose Assassin for her possible involvement with the black ops CIA. She possibly worked with a similar organization until the early nineties. The other Watchers died due to her hunting of drug lords in Latin America and drug syndicates in the U.S. I am to keep track of her until a better suited Watcher gets to me after a year or so. The reason why I was chosen wasn't because of experience but rather due to my physical fitness allowing me to keep up with her. I could keep up with her and fight my way out of any situation that follows her if I have too.
I caught up with San as she made her way between San Antonio to Phoenix. This assignment is a once in a lifetime opportunity for me to prove myself to the Watchers. October 12, 1995 Following San as usual. She apparently is doing some detective work in San Diego that has to do with curtailing drug shipments from Mexico or that is as much as I can figure by following her as close as I can.
October 13, 1995 8:00 pm.
Watching her leave the building that we are residented in while I listen to a jazz station. Lost sight of her. I try to find her with my binoculars but with no avail. I had found the building that she was renting from and got a room down the hall from which I can keep an eye on her while she is in Phoenix. I start to turn around and plan on leaving, hoping to find her, when I feel a knife point gently touching my throat. "I want to know what you are doing watching me for the past few days?" A questioning female voice whispers to me.
"I'm not watching you." I answer quickly.
"I don't think so. Who are you working for? You're too good to be a normal Peeping Tom. Are you working with one of the Team? One of Johnson's boys? Or maybe a Green?" The knife almost creases my neck. I try not to gulp.
"I don't know who you are talking about. I don't work for any of those people."
"Then who do you work for?"
"Please put away your knife Sandra Salvador, and I'll tell you everything that I am able to."
I felt the knife being removed and heard the blade being sheathed. I turn around and see a beautiful pair of flashing green eyes looking hotly at me. "This is going to take a long while to explain." I didn't want to be blunt. Blunt would mean sharp, as in knife.
"I have all day." she replies softly.
Sandra Salvador
San Salvador looked at her now known Watcher with disbelief. A group of people with the sole task of watching Immortals. That is kind of neat to her but a bit creepy. She wonders how many other Immortals know about their Watchers. As Johnny continued with what he knew about the Watcher organization, a bit of outrage sank in. "I wonder, just how close do you guys watch us. Especially you." She has visions of bugs and mini cameras in her shower even though she checks around those areas once every couple of days. San watches as John walks over to the fridge and pulls out an imported liquor. She studies as he quickly pours himself a glass and quickly waters his down in a barely noticeable motion. "We only watch your outside life with others and your participation in the Game. The one major rule we have is that we don't interfere with Immortals lives. Do you like some of this? It's a good brand." "Sure," San smiles, "I love some." Two can play at the drinking game. She hopes kiddenly that the potted plant isn't underage. What the next hour of conversion comes down too is skill, wit, and the ability to hold down liquor without throwing up or passing out. Johnny is drinking watered down liquor while San was sharing hers with the potted plant and allowing her Immortal abilites to prevent her from getting seriously drunk. Both of them were feeling fuzzy around the edges but both were acting more drunk than they really were. San started to put on a bit of a patentable drunken slur and says, "t was ki-nd off you to ex-plain this to me. A'll talk to you later." (He might be young, but he is sort of cute.) "Well shit San. You look pretty damn wasted to me. You won't get twenty feet out my f$@*ing door without passing out. Uthes better stay here tonight." John's deep southern accent slips through. "Okay. Okay. Just get me to a bed." A slight giggle. "Here just grab on and we'll get there together." With a motion appropriate to seasick passengers on a small boat in uneven water, they manage to get to the bedroom. With a little help from Johnny, San manages to get into the bed. Johnny grabs a pillow and starts heading out but a firm grip on his arm stops him. "Hey. Wheere you going, silly. Thought you might want some fun with me." "We're both drunk." An attempt at chivalry by the Watcher. "I better sleep on the couch before we do something we both regret."
"Then we better both stop acting, shall we, and get down to business." The drunken note in San's voice disappeared.
"Guess we should." San yanks John down on top of her. The next hours became a test of endurance and creativity that starts with San and Johnny stripping each others clothes off and ending with them tangled in sheets, sweat stained, and both of them panting lightly with the effort of their joint acrobatics.
The next thing John knows there is light coming through the window blinds and there is a beautiful Immortal cuddled in his arms.
"Oh, shit. Now I've done it."
"Good morning to you too." A long lingering wake up kiss that John thoroughly enjoyed.
"You do know that I am thoroughly in deep, deep trouble with Mr. Joe because of this."
"Who are you talking about?"
"My boss in the Watchers, Joe Dawson."
"Why do you need to tell him anything about us? He will never know."
"Somehow he will when he sees me. He's just that way."
"You are acting almost as bad as MacLeod."
"Who?" ( No wait, she means Duncan MacLeod, the Highlander, her teacher. )
"The only Immortal I know of who is an overaged boy scout most of the time."
"Oh." Coming from a former assassin who now hunts drug dealers for a living that can mean anything. "I better call him anyways because I've got an idea how to fix this up nicely for both of us. Would you mind me traveling with you? You know, doing my Watcher thing like always but instead be with you."
"No. I won't let you do that. You'll get yourself killed."
"I can take care of myself, San. And if I can't, won't it be easier to save me than it would to save someone who might be around you and might get in the way. At least if I get in a situation with you, you know that I'm there for you to save."
San looks at the young man with amusement, "Stop gibbering, silly. If you want to come with me, it's fine. So how to you prevent your friends from getting a new Watcher from following us?"
"I'll try to convince Mr.Joe to not do that." With that John picks up the phone and dials a memorized number.
"Joe's." A tired male voice answers.
"Yes, I would like to speak with Mr. Joe."
"Please wait a minute." So he waits the minute.
"Yes, this is Dawson, Alberts."
"I've got a bit of a problem with following Salvador. I sort of bent the Rules a bit."
"What happened? You didn't interfere with the Game, did you." A note of worry sounds in his voice.
"No. But there was interference of a sort."
"So, What happened?"
"I was watching Salvador yesterday night when she disappeared from my view. I looked around for a minute and then was planning to leave in order to follow her, she pinned me to the wall at knife point."
"Shit, are you all right?"
"Yes. But I was in no position to keep secrets from her so I told everything I know about the Watchers.
"What then."
"Well. . .I explained things to her over a bottle of scotch. That was when we sort of interfered with each other. . . all over my bedroom. . . a fair portion of the bathroom." San giggles softly.
"Okay, I get the idea. Was that Salvador just now?"
"Yes," I sigh.
"Any ideas what to do now?"
"Yes, I do have an idea." I look at San quickly.
"No, I mean later on."
"Okay. I've got an idea. This 'incident' probably will get me kicked out of the Watchers but you guys can't keep on sending Watchers for Salvador because they tend to get killed in the line of duty. I figure that I can stay with her and help. I can get some really good insight."
"You know that this puts you in danger with other Immortals and other people who sometimes come after me."
"Yup."
"Okay. May I speak with Salvador?"
"Sure." I hand the phone to San. She speaks to Dawson for a minute and then hands the phone back to me.
"Well that is settled." Joe says. "I guess I'll be seeing you."
"By the way," I ask, "How did you know it was me when you picked up the phone."
"My bartender said someone who had a southern accent and called me Mr. Joe. Your the only one who calls me that."
"Thanks for telling me. Be seeing you."
And that was that. To condense what happens in the next would be best because if I didn't this wouldn't be an account but rather an encyclopedia. I basically travel around the country with San and generally have a great time. I find out that she is slowly retiring from the drug dealer hunting business and is trying to figure out what to do next in life. She fights one immortal when I am with her; 1997 in Chicago. That is the first time I get a front row seat to a Quickening.
On August 12, 1998 we find out through research that there is probably PCP being transferred from LA to surrounding communities and cities in California. San finds that the most likely course of action is to get ahold of one of the members of the PCP gang mentioned in the newspaper. The first place we try to find them is Sunnydale, Ca. . . .