A/N:
PLEASE WATCH THE TRAILER! I WORKED REALLY HARD ON IT, AND IT'S MY FIRST. youtube . com watch?v = n7SLWxuAsqc (JUST REMOVE THE SPACES.)Okay, here I go again! Now this is a story I've had on my mind for awhile. I finally decided to bite the bullet and put the pen to paper..so to speak. Somethings you should know: This a puesdo-crossover. May (My OC) is Immortal. The Highlander 'brand' . I have always loved the TV Show; and I really thought it would be interesting. You really do not have to know anything about 'Highlander' to understand this story. But I do suggest it, as it is a fabulous show! This isn't in the Crossover section for purely selfish purposes, as I really hope people like it and read it, and it wouldn't get nearly as much exposure.

Forever is a Longtime

Chapter One: Live to Fight Another Day.

She is immortal. Born in the Low lands of Ireland 320 years ago. She is not alone. There are others like her, some good, some evil. For centuries she has battled, with holy ground her only refuge. She cannot die, unless you take her head, and with it her power. In the end there can be only one.

It was a muggy morning in early April. The moist dew hung, suspended in the air. In the wee hours of the morning, most humans are asleep. Most. But in the most secluded section of the state park, under the moss cover cobblestone bridge the scene that was unfolding would baffle anyone. Three figures seemed to be in heated debate. One small distinctly female one stood off to the side. Her small frame leaning against the aged stone, petite arms crossed over her chest. The long black trench coat was loose fitting and seemed to swallow the young woman. The other two men circled each other in a very predatory fashion. Their movements precise and measured, and as two drew swords from the folds of their trench coats all signs of life were void-except for the strange three.
The two were poised, and the smaller of the two struck, the clashing of metal on metal was jarring. The woman watched the two have at each other; her steely blue gaze hard, yet uneasy. She watches with a victor clearly in mind. She has a dog in this fight. On edge- her posture screams, and does not release until the smaller of the two men falls to his knees. Sword clattering to the cracked aged pavement beneath him, chest heaving, eyes downcast. The woman holds her breath, as he tilts his head ever so slightly to the side. Baring his neck. With a strong swoop the sharp steel meets tender flesh and the head is severed. A small thud and the handsome features roll about a foot away.

"So I'm a little weak on pop culture. Well, who the hell is Lady Gaga in the grand scheme of things, anyway? I mean I, I know how tall King George was, Bonaparte's favorite food, I know Helen of Troy didn't have that great a face and it only launched a hundred ships not a thousand, and... "A petite fair-skinned woman rambled at her much taller tanned dark hair companion.

"Blah blah blah." He grumbled, grouchily. May Gallagher a fair skinned petite woman who didn't look a day over the age of sixteen and her taller, much larger dark haired companion bicker quietly as they strolled down Main Street, of the small town in northeastern Maine. The average person completely unaware of the pair. Though the ruggedly handsome man seemed much too old to be 'with' his smaller female companion. But if you spoke of this concern you might be met with a lighthearted chuckle from May and a throaty laugh from the man. May Gallagher has a secret, all of Clover Hill knows it, and they just can't place it.

"Are they staring at you or me?" He asks gruffly, as his follows his companion into the small café. Her mousy brown, mid-back length hair swishing as she walked to the back of the shop, finding a small secluded table.

"It's me." She groaned. May is by all accounts, was beautiful, unattached and 'totally loaded', but the pretty young woman keeps to herself. Since the day she moved to Clover Hill rumors flew, she was reportedly, everything from an heiress to a government spy to even, a high priced call girl. She smiles warmly over her shoulder as her companion pulls out her chair for her.

"Excuse me," he muttered his slight Scottish accent barely noticeable anymore. May studied her chipped French manicure and before she knew it he returned, two large cups of steaming coffee in hand.

"Thanks, Mac. That was incredibly stupid...for the record." She said, watching as the hulk of a man sat at the table, trying to fold his long legs under the small café table.

"You really did expect me to lose." His tone betraying the hurt he felt at such an insinuation. Quirking a light brown eyebrow, May took a tentative sip.

"Yeah, and you didn't?" May had known her companion for a long time, a very long time. He was he teacher, her friend. But no matter the highest mountains of respect for him she felt. He had a foolish streak. He also had this pesky sense of honor, dignity and chivalry. Duncan Macleod was a goddamn boy scout. Exactly two hundred years ago, he'd met a woman. She was beautiful, smart, rebellious, and very very married. Unfortunately, her husband was also very immortal, and had been seeking satisfaction for years.

"It wasn't about that…May, after all these years you still don't understand." He shook his head, his long curly black hair tied back at the nape of his neck.

"What? That you're an idiot with no sense of self-preservation. Oh yeah, trust me. I got that." She rolled her eyes, as she turned her attention out the large front window.

"I had to take responsibility for what I'd done. Nothing you could do was ever going to solve it for me. I had to face him and fight the best fight of my life knowing he'd do the same. It's just the Fates that decide the winner." He said confidently, as her rose his coffee to his lips.

"Trial by combat..." She never turned her attention from the window, watching as the mortals went about their daily business. "How...Noble." Duncan had tried for years to instill his inane sense of 'honor' in May, though it never quite took. Her sense of self-preservation got in the way much too often.

"Clever girl." He chuckled. Folding his hands in front of him as he leaned forward on the small table. "So, how is small town life?"

"Boring…wonderfully boring." She flashed a large smile. "Except for the gossip mongers. Everyone that lives here was born here pretty much, so when they get a newcomer it's like…epic."

"They'll get bored eventually." He smirked.

"I hope."

"I could always lob off a head." He whispered eyeing the other patrons goofily. May smiled shaking her head as she wrapped her fingers around the hot cup.
"I could do that myself, thank you very much."

"I'm starting to wonder.."He said, his voice taking a serious turn. "When was the last time you practiced?"

"None of your business." She narrowed her icy blue eyes. "Just because I don't like to fight, doesn't mean I can't."
"I just…would hate to see you get rusty because you avoid it so much."

"I still practice once a week, I even take fencing classes." She grimaced.

"Fencing and actual combat are very different-"

"I know," she sighed rolling her eyes once again. "It's just, the older I get. The longer I live; the more attached to myself I become." Duncan sighed, once again realizing they had come to an impasse. They sat that way for hours, discussing his life in Paris. Her new and exciting small town life. His new lady love. (She repressed an eye roll; he always seemed to have a new one.) Her lack of a love life. "What's the point? We go on and everything around us dies..." she mumbled.
"Romance, a spark. Anything, it might do you good. What about another imm-"

"Stop." She held up a hand, her finger drumming against the plastic lid of her cup. "Forever is a very longtime to be tied to someone."

"Who said anything about forever, couple hundred years…you move on..." Draining what was left at the bottom of her cup, May stood abruptly, smiling down at Duncan.
"Well, it's been fun, Macleod." Duncan rolled his eyes, but stood wrapping his student in a bone crushing hug.

"Take care yourself, kid." Grabbing his biceps tightly she store up at the much taller man, blue eyes meeting brown.

"Live Highlander; grow stronger, live to fight another day."

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