DISCLAIMER: Highlander, Raven, and their familiar characters are the property of Davis/Panzer Productions. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit being made.
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FEBRUARY 1999
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Bert Myers snagged the phone on the first ring, then concentrated on keeping the boredom out of his voice. "Myers Private Security. Can we help you?"

Hell, I should've said that in French.

Myers wasn't used to sedentary activities like manning the phone. But at the moment he was recuperating from a gunshot wound, and there wasn't much he could do. Just hang around the Paris office and drive Nick Wolfe to distraction.

As it turned out, his choice of language hadn't been a mistake. The caller replied in English. "Mr. Myers, I take it. I've heard you have a slight German accent."

The guy didn't sound distraught over a kidnapped wife or any similar calamity, so Myers said solemnly, "A slight German accent is required of all employees of this firm."

That remark was greeted with a chuckle. "Actually, Myers, it's one of your employees I'm interested in. Is Ashley Wolfe still with you?"

Ashley?
Nick's gonna hear about this!

"I'm sorry, sir. Considering the nature of our work, I never give out information on individual employees. I can't tell you whether such a person ever did work for me. I hope you understand."

"Oh yeah, I understand perfectly." The man sounded amused. "If he really didn't work for you, you would've said a simple No. And if he was right there, you would've signaled to him to pick up an extension, and I would've heard a click by now.

"So since you won't tell me anything, I'm gonna guess good old Ashley's out to lunch. I'll stop by later.

"If he gets back before then, tell him the Umbrella Man's in town. And he doesn't have to worry that I'll want to crash with him. I'm just passing through. Flew in from Russia, and I'm on my way to South America to see Monica."

He hung up without giving Myers time to respond.

Myers couldn't decide whether the apparent good humor was real, or a cloak for something sinister. Will Nick know immediately that he means to kill this Monica?

One way or another, good old Ashley has some explaining to do.


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Nick--who had indeed been out to lunch--strolled in over an hour later.

"Anything interesting come up?" He shed his snow-covered jacket and muffler and flopped in his chair.

"I'm not sure." Myers watched the other man closely. "Some guy called and said he's gonna stop in to see you, Ashley."

Nick went pale. "He called me that?"

"Yup. Have you been keeping secrets from me, pal?"

"C'mon, Myers! You've seen my passport."

"You've seen mine, too. One of them." Myers had used so many aliases he could barely remember his original name.

"Well, I only have one. My name is Nicholas Charles Wolfe." He seemed defensive about it.

Myers decided to bait him. "This guy sounded American. Sounded a lot like you, in fact. Pacific Northwest by way of Illinois, educated but tough.

"Someone who knew you way back when...maybe you're brothers under the skin." He expected that would get an angry reaction if Umbrella Man were a criminal.

"Brothers under the skin?" Nick gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Funny you should say that. He is my brother! Well, almost certainly. 'Ashley' was Aaron's childhood nickname for me. All the kids in school picked it up, but he's the only one who'd be calling me here in Paris.

"And we're not really brothers by blood. I was adopted."

"O...kay." Myers had heard so little about Nick's background that he'd always suspected it was less than happy. "Does this Aaron sell umbrellas?"

"Umbrellas? Nah, he's a boxing promoter." Then Nick groaned. "Let me guess. He called himself the Umbrella Man."

"Yeah. Inside joke?"

"Sort of." Nick still wasn't smiling. "When we were growing up, as soon as he had money to buy gifts, he bought Ma an umbrella for every occasion. Called himself the Umbrella Man. He must've given her dozens of the damn things.

"He said he meant it to be funny, not cruel. But Aaron's humor has always been...warped."

Myers mulled that over for a full minute. At last he said, "Sorry, I can't see anything funny or cruel about umbrellas. Wanna tell me the rest of the story?"

Nick sighed. "I may as well, at this point. The idea was that Aaron didn't want a repeat of what happened once before, when Ma got caught in the rain with no umbrella.

"She was on her way to work, between buses. Ducked in St. Nicholas' Church to get out of the rain...and found me."

Myers needed another minute to process that. "You mean...you were a foundling? You'd been abandoned, left in this church?"

"Yeah. I was apparently only a few hours old."

"Damn. And Aaron...hell, I agree with you his sense of humor is warped. To say the least."

"He was four years old at the time. Not prepared for a little brother, especially one like me. I guess it's understandable he resented me."

Myers had another thought. "Isn't it unusual in the States for the person who actually finds an abandoned baby to adopt?"

"You're darn right. There was a lot of controversy about it. I was the most
'desirable' kind of child available for adoption, a healthy white newborn. Ma and Pa already had Aaron, no medical reason why they couldn't have more kids of their own...and adoption had been the furthest thing from their minds until Ma found me.

"She fought Social Services, and her own family, every step of the way. And I don't think it was because she loved me or had bonded with me. She just thought her finding me was fate, destiny or something.

"Women seem to be really into this 'fate' business."

Myers felt he'd missed something there, but let it pass. "Did your parents have more kids?"

"Yeah, my little sister Monica. I think she was the only one who really loved me."

"Um, that explains something. Umbrella Man--I mean Aaron--said he's on his way to South America to see Monica."

"That makes sense. She's kind of a rebel, been down there for a few years. If she's happy, I hope Aaron won't pressure her to leave."

When he didn't seem about to say more, Myers prodded him. "What about the name 'Ashley'?"

Nick winced. "I always felt out of place as a child," he said slowly. "Different. And my name didn't help. I was named for the church. But our parents were named Abraham and Maria, and they named their own two children Aaron and Monica. Get it?"

"Yeah. The same initials."

"Right. Well, I once made the mistake of letting Aaron hear me say I would have liked a name beginning with A. So he started calling me Ashley. For Ashley Wilkes in Gone With the Wind."

From the pain in his voice, you'd think that nickname destroyed his childhood. Am I missing something because I'm not American?


"Hey, Nick, I know some moviegoers have always thought Ashley Wilkes was sort of a wimp, but he's not that bad. And the other kids in school may not even have gotten the reference."

"Oh, they did. Aaron made sure they did. You don't understand--"

Just then they heard the unmistakable sounds of a vigorous man bounding up the stairs. Nick muttered something under his breath. But by the time the door opened, he was wearing a pasted-on smile.

"Yo, Ashley!" The newcomer beamed. "I was right, you are here." He swept Nick into a brotherly hug.

Nick returned the embrace with fervor, as if he wanted desperately to believe Aaron was sincere. "Good to see you, bro." There was a catch in his voice.

Then he disentangled himself and made introductions. "I want you to meet my boss, Bert Myers. Bert, this is my brother, Aaron Wolfe."

"Pleased to meet you, Aaron," Myers said smoothly.

And he was. It didn't matter that his conversation with Nick had been interrupted. He finally understood.

Aaron Wolfe was just as tall as Nick. Just as powerfully built, just as handsome. His handshake was just as firm, and the same keen intelligence shone in his eyes. Even the two men's voices were strikingly similar.

Only one difference told the world they had not been born into the same family.

Aaron Wolfe was black.
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THE END
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I decided to make Nick's adoptive family African-American because the series gave his brother's name as Aaron; I'd been wanting to use that name for a black character, in honor of Boondocks creator Aaron McGruder. But this story was inspired solely by my desire to create a universe unlike any other I know of, and to inflict more angst on our long-suffering hero. No offense is intended to anyone--especially parents of adopted children, adoptees, or the wonderful Aaron McGruder.

When Nick says, "Women seem to be really into this 'fate' business," he's recalling Amanda's words after they shared a passionate kiss in A Matter of Time: "You have to [believe in fate]. Otherwise nothing makes any sense at all."

And if you think I already have plans for Monica, you're right.