A Kind of Magic
by Parareru
Prologue: Of Endings and Beginnings
New Edinburgh, Luna Colony ... 2192 AD
Duncan MacLeod slowly sipped at his glass and grimaced at the slightly sour aftertaste of the synthetic liquor. Brewers and distillers alike had made many claims over the past fifty years that the synthetic alcohol was now virtually indistinguishable from real alcohol and much better for you in the long run.
Duncan snorted into his glass. The operative term was 'virtually.' That might have been good enough for someone raised on the stuff, for one who had ample opportunity to partake of the genuine article over the course of several hundred years this modern day... swill paled in comparison. Duncan sighed yet again as he took another pull from his glass.
"Why so long of a sigh, old friend?" a voice cut into Duncan's moment of reflection. Duncan started momentarily, surprised that he'd been so lost in thought that he'd been unaware of the other Immortal's approach. He reached into that 'buzz' that all Immortals shared and felt the presence of an old friend, of several in fact.
A grin broke across Duncan melancholy expression. "Methos," he answered warmly as he rose from the bar and offered his hand to older Immortal.
"It's been too long, Mac," Methos said in greeting as he took Duncan's hand and pulled him into a rough embrace.
"What, fifty years?" Duncan asked innocently.
"More like ninety," Methos corrected with a wry grin. "In fact, I think it was at that New Year's Eve bash in Rio."
"I'm still trying to remember all of the details from that night," Duncan muttered.
"Well, that is what we are here to see to," Methos replied with a grin and moved slightly out of the way to allow his companions to make their greetings to Duncan. "At least that's what myself and these fine ladies have been doing on the shuttle ride up here."
"Kate! Amanda!" Duncan said in surprise as he accepted greeting kisses from the other two Immortals, one blonde and one brunette.
"Happy Birthday," both women chorused. Duncan noted with a bit of surprise that Amanda had cut her hair short and dyed it blonde since the last time he'd seen her.
"You changed your hair," he pointed out with a nebulous wave of his fingers.
Amanda shrugged and ran a hand through her hair. "Actually, I changed it back. Felt like giving blonde another go."
"Blondes do have more fun," Kate observed sagely and then chose to level a piercing look at Duncan. "What? No warm welcome, no astute observations for your wife?"
"Kate, you look great as always," Duncan said easily as he swept his one time wife up in his arms.
"So with who else have you been sharing stories that I can't remember?" Duncan asked Methos with a raised eyebrow as he set Kate back onto her feet.
"Oohh, proper grammar. We have been learning, haven't we, MacLeod?" Methos asked saucily.
"I'm not a complete savage," Duncan retorted loftily.
"Nope, just a part time one," an irreverent voice supplied before Methos could come up with a suitable rejoinder.
Duncan grinned at the sound of the familiar voice. "Ron," he said as he quickly turned around.
"The one and only," Ron Stoppable confirmed with a grin of his own. He cocked his head to one side to peer around Duncan. "Oh, Amanda?" he called in a sing song voice. "I think I found something you left at the gift shop."
Duncan blinked and racked his memory to see if he had ever encountered this Immortal before.
"Oh, I was wondering where he'd disappeared to," Amanda said as left Duncan's side to capture the new arrival's arm.
"I don't believe we've met," Duncan said as he offered his hand to the unfamiliar Immortal standing somewhat uncomfortably by Amanda's side.
"This is Nick Wolfe. He was a partner of mine back in the early 21st," Amanda said by way of introduction.
"Happy Birthday," Nick said politely as took Duncan's hand.
"Doh! That's right!" Ron groaned as he slapped his forehead with his free hand. "This is for you. Happy Birthday, Big Mac!" Ron said cheerfully as offered the wrapped present to his former mentor.
Duncan glowered at his irrepressible student. "You're the only one who calls me that," he observed sourly as a fit of giggles broke out behind him at the revelation of his new nickname.
"Big Mac. I like that," Methos commented with an approving nod at Ron.
"Just following the Ron Stoppable motto," Ron declared with an impish grin as he thrust his finger into the air. "Never be normal!"
"So what is this?" Duncan asked curiously as he gave the package a tentative shake. At a certain point Immortals stopped giving other Immortals birthday presents. After all, what does one give to a person who has years to amass a priceless collection of 'antiques.'
"Now the Ron-man might not have had all the centuries the rest of you have to build up the mad bank, but royalties from Bueno Nacho and El Sombrero have been muy bueno," Ron explained smugly as Duncan unwrapped an ancient, dusty bottle of scotch.
Duncan raised an eyebrow as he appraised the label. "Glenmorangie. 2053," he murmured approvingly.
Ron grinned proudly. "As they say on the old eps of Space Passage: Phase Two, 'There is no better year.'" He frowned and scratched at his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, since that's the last year they bottled the stuff, and I mean the real stuff mind you, the expression actually holds true."
"Personally, I've always felt that the 2036 was a better year," Methos disagreed as he appropriated the bottle from MacLeod for his own personal inspection. "2053 always tasted just a little bit rushed to my palate."
"Hey! Do you have any idea how much that bottle cost?" Ron asked indignantly as Methos peremptorily began to open the ancient bottle of scotch.
Methos paused momentarily in his efforts and fixed Ron with an admonishing look. "Fine liquor, like the company of friends, is meant to be be enjoyed, not hoarded to gather dust on some shelf."
"Eh, got me there," Ron conceded to the older Immortal. "But you do have to admit that because someone decided to hoard that bottle is the reason why we get to enjoy it today."
Methos nodded in agreement before passing the freshly opened bottle of scotch to the guest of honor. "Mac, if you'll do the honors."
Duncan took the bottle and began pouring into the glasses someone had thoughtfully gotten from the bar. Somberly he passed the libations around the table, pouring the scotch bottled nearly 150 years ago brought memories of days long past rushing back to the surface.
"To absent friends," Duncan toasted as he lifted his glass. "To Richie Ryan."
Methos nodded. "To Joe Dawson."
"To Steve Barkin," Kate added with a wistful sigh.
"To Hugh Fitzcairn," Amanda said as she raised her glass.
"To Bert Meyer," Nick chimed in.
"To Alex Trebeck," Ron said enthusiastically and then noted the pained looks that the other Immortals were leveling at him. "What?" he said defensively.
Methos clucked apologetically as Amanda leaned over. "The purpose of a toast is to remember someone you actually knew," she gently informed Ron.
"What makes you guys think I didn't know Alex Trebeck?" he asked innocently and the rest of the Immortals settled for giving Ron a disgusted look. Ron's face fell for a moment before it broke into a broad grin. "Psyche! I'm just playing you guys. I'm not quite the buffoon I play on TV."
He raised his glass again, this time with a serious, but faraway look on his face. "Well, no matter the toast, I always drink to one person," Ron said softly. "To Kim Possible, the girl who can do anything."
Mount Yamanochi, Japan – 729 AD
The flames from the burning monastery reached high into the night sky; bathing the peak of Mount Yamanochi in lurid color as two figures warily circled each other. The samurai had long since discarded his helmet and streaks of blood dripped from jagged rents in his armor as he favored his right side. The Briton stood in equally bad shape, blood seeping from a long gash in his left side and his free hand clutched his ribs protectively. Both combatants panted from the exertion of their long battle as they felt their flesh knit back together with that special magic that was common to both of them.
With a simultaneous roar, the two swordsmen charged forward and hacked at each other savagely. Finesse and technique had long since given way to sheer endurance and brutality as the two warriors simply sought to overpower the other. Like the inexorable tides the two crashed time and again against each other, the ringing of the blades echoing in the burning night. Finally, Briton slipped and fell to one knee and the samurai leapt forward with victory shining in his eyes as he swung his blade for the other's neck.
The steely ring of metal striking metal covered the agonized gasp that spilled from pained lips. Surprised, the samurai looked down at the blade protruding from his chest even as the Lotus Blade tumbled from his suddenly nerveless fingers. Toshimiru's mouth trembled open in a bloody gasp and a fountain of bright blood rushed past his pale lips as he sank helplessly to his knees.
"A worthy fight," the victor commented wearily as he pulled his blade free with an accompanying shower of blood.
"Honorless cur," Toshimiru hissed from between clenched teeth as he stared accusingly at the steely glint that shone from under the other Immortal's silk high-necked collar.
The Briton Immortal smiled as he stroked the disguised gorget around his throat. "It's not in the rules," he gloated with a cruel smile.
"Your mentor should have taught you better, Corbin Dale," Toshimiru snarled defiantly in an attempt to stall for time as he felt some strength return to his arm.
Corbin shrugged. "Actually, Dominic congratulated my ingenuity before I took his head." He tugged at a hidden clasp and released the collar to reveal a nasty looking scar decorating the right side of his neck. "He gave me this, years ago, as an object lesson on not letting my guard down."
"You... should have listened better," Toshimiru growled as his fumbling fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword and he stabbed it forward in a disemboweling thrust.
"Don't do that," Corbin admonished almost petulantly as he sidestepped the clumsy stroke and stabbed the samurai in the chest again for good measure. "You really shouldn't interrupt another Immortal when he's gloating."
"That's... not... in the... rules," Toshimiru ground out, throwing Corbin's words back into his teeth. Corbin looked coolly down at his beaten opponent, his eyes bearing no malice. The only thing that mattered was the Game.
"True," Corbin agreed as he drew his sword from Toshimiru's chest with a steely rasp and raised it up over his shoulder. "Well, we might as well get this over with. After all, in the end there can be only one."
IN THE DAYS BEFORE MEMORY. THERE WERE THE IMMORTALS.
WE WERE WITH YOU THEN. AND WE ARE WITH YOU NOW.
WE ARE DRIVEN BY THE ENDLESS FIGHT TO SURVIVE
IN A GAME WHICH KNOWS NO LIMIT OF TIME OR PLACE.
WE ARE THE SEEDS OF LEGEND,
BUT OUR TRUE ORIGINS ARE UNKNOWN.
WE SIMPLY ARE.
Next: Chapter 1: Humpty Dumpty
A/N: 'lo all. Thanks for giving this a read and remember to drop a review and let me know what y'all think.
For the past year I've been intrigued by the possibility of doing a KP/Highlander crossover and interestingly enough, it doesn't appear that anyone has done so before. I could be mistaken though. Hopefully this won't end up being too formulaic, but I intend to have fun with it. Magic sword. Nuff said.
Sadly, at the moment I am not as well versed with the Highlander continuity as I'd like to be. A situation that I hope to correct within the next month or so. I will be merging continuities from the movies as well as the series, including the short lived Raven.
I do intend some slight departure from semi-established lore though. Chiefly, in that not all Immortals are foundlings. In Highlander: Endgame, Connor MacLeod's mother was burned at the stake for not renouncing her son. A simple matter of the truth setting one free. So I put that Connor was born out of his mother and wasn't a foundling.
Now for the obligatory disclaimer. I don't own Kim Possible or Highlander.
