Disclaimer: As much as I might wish, I do not own Stargate: SG1, Highlander: the Series, or any recognizable characters from either show. However, any characters that are not from either show are mine and I will use and abuse them as I see fit. Everyone else will be returned eventually, for I am only borrowing for a while, but they might end up a bit scuffed.


Chapter 2

At least it isn't his annoying, younger clansmen, Daniel told himself. If Duncan MacLeod suddenly shows up on my door, I might just take his head and save myself the trouble. That bastard brings nothing but misfortune and disaster anywhere he goes.

Daniel quickly made his order and paid for his food before stepping out of the restaurant to face the elder MacLeod.

"Mark Patrick," Connor MacLeod said, his gravelly voice ever the same.

Daniel laughed, though with caution; he didn't know why Connor happened to be in town. "I haven't gone by that name in years MacLeod. It's Daniel Jackson these days. Why are you here?"

Connor gave a half-hearted smirk. "I'm not after your head youngster, if that is what you are afraid of."

Daniel gave Connor a smirk of his own. The man still believes my bullshit story about being a new Immortal. Obviously he hasn't spoken to his clansman about me. "I wasn't overly worried," he replied. "What brings you to town?"

"Just passing through after seeing my kinsman in Seacouver. Thought I would take in the sights, go skiing maybe," MacLeod said, his hand in his coat pockets, looking around him nervous-like.

"Colorado Springs isn't exactly a big skiing town and it is only early October and most of the places open in November or December," Daniel said, his eyes looking at the Scot with sharp eyes.

"Well," MacLeod began but Daniel cut him off.

"I don't really care what you are up to, as long it doesn't involve me," he said shortly, wishing that his food would arrive soon.

"Why would I do that? I wouldn't want to risk your head," MacLeod rumbled, laughing slightly.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Why would I want to involve myself in your insanity? I have my own problems and none of them involve you," he snarked at the Highlander. "I really should have listened to my horoscope this morning that said, beware of annoying Scotsmen and stayed in bed."

"Come on, you're too young to be this cynical. Maybe after you've been around for a couple of centuries then you can indulge in cynicism," Connor guffawed.

Daniel spent the next few seconds debating if it was worth it to just take the son of a bitch's head right then and there. Granted it would be messy, Connor was an exceptionally good guy and losing him would throw the Game out of balance in Daniel's opinion, out the existence of Immortals to everyone, and end any possibility of him getting his wife back, but it would wipe the condescending smile off the man's face. He really regretted sometimes letting other Immortals think that he was a newbie Immortal. This was one of those moments.

~SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1~

It had been just a year after he had to leave Chicago when he got run over by an old man in a Buick. He decided to spend some time in New York before figuring out what he wanted to do next. It was a big enough city that one could easily remain anonymous while living among over seven million people.

The city had suffered from a gradual social and economic decay, not to mention that the Dodgers and Giants had both left for the West Coast in the previous decade. The sanitation workers' strike and poor air quality did not help relieve a general feeling of grime, depression, and squalor.

He found a small apartment in Greenwich Village, not too far from where the infamous Stonewall Riots would take place less than a year later. It was nice, but pretty basic. The roach population was kept down to a bare minimum thanks to phosphorus paste bait and DDT.

Daniel was coming back from the corner grocery store. He had a dinner date that night with a gal that lived down the hall from him and he wanted to impress her with his culinary skills. He promised Joanne a meal of Mediterranean Turkey Meatballs with herbed yogurt sauce, baked red lentil falafel salad, Mediterranean tri-tip steak, and diples for dessert.

It was early November, with enough chill in the air that his long coat which concealed his sword did not look out of place. Daniel felt the familiar weight of the weapon, thus he did not feel panicked when he felt the presence of another Immortal as he strode down the street.

He stopped in his tracks, ignoring the profanities offered by other pedestrians whom he blocked on the sidewalk, and looked around. He spied a man further down the sidewalk, also wearing a long coat, looking around for someone or something. Once they made eye contact, the pounding in his head subsiding.

Daniel was grateful that he normally kept a lid on the power of his Quickening, making him seem less powerful, less of a threat to his fellow Immortals. He didn't recognize the other Immortal, unsure if the man was a friend or a potential threat.

The other Immortal, slightly shorter than himself, had shaggy blond hair that fit the old jeans, a ratty t-shirt, and tennis shoes. He looked like a dirty hippie, but carried himself with a look of a predator.

The unknown Immortal stopped in front of Daniel, sizing him up. "I'm Connor MacLeod, who be ye?" he asked.

Danil did his best to not roll his eyes. "Mark Patrick," Daniel answered simply, scuffing the toe of his boot on the cement, doing his ever best to project the image of a young, inexperienced Immortal. His clothes, outside of his jacket, looked to be the typical wears of the current period: Jeans, black turtleneck, hiking boots, and a mid-length great coat. Everything was calculated to give the perception that he was young, that he lacked a high level of skill with a sword. "I don't want any problems man," he said, backing up slightly.

"I'm not here for your head youngster," Connor laughed. "Do you have a teacher?"

"Not anymore. He was defeated not too long ago. I've been pretty much on my own," Daniel said, making sure he looked slightly scared and unsure. His first teacher had been defeated and destroyed by Methos not too long ago, so it wasn't a complete lie. Granted the defeat involved destroying Dilijan's mind and landing him in a mental hospital to rot, but those kind of things happened. And it was kind of justifiable, nothing to cry over.

"Let me help you then," Connor offered.

"Um, no thank you. I have places I have to be," Daniel said, smiling tightly. "I'll be okay." While it was incredibly nice of MacLeod to offer to take someone under their wing just like that, it was the last thing he wanted or needed.

Thankfully he was close to his building and after thanking the Scot for the offer, Daniel disappeared into his building, putting an end to any further offers or remonstrations.

Dinner that night went well, Joanne loved the food; Daniel loved the company and what happened later that night.

The next morning, a lazy Saturday, Daniel lay in bed, playing with Joanne's long dark hair as she peacefully slept. He enjoyed the quiet. Nobody was bothering him to finish a translation, nobody was after his head, and nobody was knocking on his front door . . .

Just as he thought that one thought, he felt the presence of another Immortal right before someone knocked at his door.

Fuck, was his one thought and he silently wormed his way out of his bed, careful to not disturb Joanne and threw on a pair of sweat pants. Daniel took care to not make a sound as he picked up a sword, a Greek Hoplite off the wall from its holding brackets and closed the bedroom door.

While he had a pretty good idea as to who it was on the other side of the door, he still looked through the peak hole to make sure.

Daniel threw open the door to reveal Connor MacLeod standing at his doorway.

"Care to invite me in?" the Scotsman asked as he pushed on through, glancing at the sword in Daniel's hand.

"Not really," Daniel replied, sighing deeply. "This isn't a good time."

"You need to learn how to survive, young one" Connor declared as he looked around Daniel's apartment, noting some of the antique pieces of art on the wall.

Daniel, keeping a grip on his sword, pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine start to develop. "I'll be fine. I don't need your help," he said.

"You say that now, but what happens when someone older comes after your head? Someone with more experience?" Connor pushed.

Daniel did his best to not laugh. There weren't too many other Immortals out there, save Methos, the other Horsemen, and Darius that were more experienced than him and Darius had taken a vow of non-violence and lived on Holy Ground. Maybe Rebecca too. She was good with a sword, but she wasn't interested in taking heads. He missed her. "Why do you want to teach me?"

"We met for a reason," Connor proclaimed, his Scottish burr more evident. "You are young and you need to learn to survive."

"Keep it down please," Daniel said, looking aggravated. "My friend doesn't need to hear this."

"Have you told him about your Immortality?" Connor asked, throwing himself on to Daniel's sofa in the small living room.

"What?" Daniel yelped. "Why does everyone always think I'm gay? I'm not gay! My friend, Joanne, is in my bedroom."

"Oh, well," Connor hedged, looking for the right words to apologize with.

"Look, if I agree to let you teach me, will you get out of here?" Daniel hissed, fighting the urge to strangle the man sitting on his furniture.

Connor smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Good. You won't regret it. Meet me here this afternoon," he said and wrote an address on a scrap of paper that was sitting on Daniel's coffee table.

"Fine. Go," Daniel ground out.

~SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1~

That afternoon, Daniel found himself outside of a warehouse in Brooklyn. The place was a dump, and in Daniel's opinion, all it would take is a small Quickening to level the place to the ground. He also contemplated buying the property, knowing that in a couple of decades the value of the land in the area would skyrocket. Maybe it was insider trading, but it didn't change the fact that change was a coming for New York City.

Daniel walked into the dilapidated building, clearly sensing MacLeod's Quickening. "Hello?"

"Ah! The youngster has arrived," Connor announced loudly from an upper level as Danil walked into the open area. It had been a building for storing cotton years ago, back when the Civil War. Now it was just another empty building that time and the elements were trying to destroy.

"What do you want Highlander? I have places to go, people to see," Daniel snarked.

"Let's see how good you are," Connor suggested as he brought out his sword, a katana, and came down the rickety metal stairs. His tone was lighter, still gravely though, and he did not have the look of someone determined to kill someone.

Daniel did some checking with a friend who was in the Watchers, finding out more about Connor MacLeod. According to his files, he wasn't crazy, well, crazier than most Immortals. Also, he wasn't the type to take out new Immortals and had a tendency to want to take in youngsters that need guidance. He wasn't a bad guy.

At the very least, this would be an interesting afternoon.

Daniel and Connor spent the remainder of the afternoon and into the early evening training. Connor was attempting to teach him some finer techniques of sword fighting and Daniel was doing his best to play the good student. While most of what Connor was telling him was old hat to him, it didn't hurt, he reasoned, to practice, especially against someone who was fairly skilled. Having someone to practice against beat going through forms and katas on your own.

By the end of their session, Daniel found himself actually enjoying himself and working up quite the sweat. It was a good feeling. Connor pushed him physically, giving him a challenge that he couldn't get from too many other people.

"You're not too bad for someone so young," Connor said approvingly. Daniel had to fight to keep a smirk off his face. "We should meet again and practice some more."

"It will have to be later next week. I have work and I promised Joanne that we would go see that movie that is coming out this week, Good-bye Mr. Chips," Daniel said, surprising himself that he would actually agree to something like this. For the most part, he liked being left alone, but it was interesting to work with Connor and at least he wasn't like his annoying, self-righteous, younger clansman.

"Good," Connor nodded, a smile on his face. "How about next Saturday? Same time and place?"

Danil also nodded. "See you then," he said and picked up his coat, slipping his sword among the folds, making it disappear as if by magic. He quickly left, but was looking forward to their next session.

~SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1~

Over the next few weeks, then months, Daniel and Connor would meet in the same warehouse and spar. While Daniel didn't pick up on any new techniques, he could tell that over all his swordsmanship improved, he felt sharper, more ready for any potential fights.

"You ever think about what the future holds for you?" Connor asked Daniel one day while taking a break.

"You mean like what I want to be when I grow up or when will they invent flying cars?" Daniel asked, being slightly snarky. He knew, for the most part, what would eventually come and his goal was to join the SGC to be with his friends. That was the future he wanted. Many of the day to day details from his first time around were hazy or even non-existent, but he knew what his end goal would be. He didn't remember flying cars, though he kept wanting to say flux capacitor for some reason when he thought about flying cars.

"We are here, unchanging, while the world around us changes but we have to change with the times so as to blend in. What do you want your future to become?" Connor asked.

.

Daniel leaned up against a discarded table. "I see myself getting a PhD, maybe three, eventually. Studying, learning new things, having some very interesting times. I also predict that they will someday come out with more flavors of cranberry. I'm personally looking forward to the day cran-raspberry is invented. Don't know about flying cars though."

Connor blinked.

"Look, I prefer to take each day as they come. We don't know how long we will be here, same as mortals. I just want to learn, grow stronger, and see the next sunrise," Daniel said, this time not flippant.

"For a young one, you are pretty wise," Connor said, laughing slightly. "Up for another round?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "You have no idea and sure."

This went on for a few more weeks, up until moments before the Stonewall riots started. Daniel/Mark had been challenged by some unknown Immortal while he and MacLeod had been looking at a Napoleon III French Ormolu Bronze Opaline Clock made for the Turkish/Ottoman market from around 1860 in Nash's Antiquities.

"Are you sure it is real?" Daniel asked. He didn't know the ins and outs of antiquities and fine art. He had friends that knew that kind of stuff, but he never cared about the details. If it was less than at least three thousand years old it didn't matter to him. Pyramids, ancient dead languages, lost tombs were what mattered; not showy clocks that once decorated a table in a palace.

"Of course it's real. Look at the base, you can clearly see the artist's initials and his stamp in on the bottom," Connor said, carefully turning the overly ornate clock in his hands, showing his proof of antiquity.

"How much did you pay for it?" Daniel asked, slightly repulsed at how gaudy it was.

Connor shrugged. "Less than two thousand. It was a bargain. Plus I have a couple of clients who would be interested in it and pay much more. They lack good taste, but they are willing to listen to someone who does."

"And waste their money apparently," Daniel said. He was going to say something else but was interrupted by the arrival of another Immortal.

"Mark Patrick," the other Immortal voice boomed. "I challenge you."

Daniel looked at the guy with no small amount of amusement. "Overly-dramatic don't you think? Why?"

The unknown Immortal, tall and beefy, looking like he had been a Viking in a previous life, though considering that he was an Immortal, him being a former Viking was very possible. He had long blond hair, crazy blue eyes, and looked slightly insane. The fact that he was carrying a Viking age, doubled edged sword showed that he was serious.

"So, are you the jackass that has been hounding me for the past two weeks?" Daniel asked, slightly bored. He had sensed someone following him that wasn't a Watcher. Whoever it was always managed to stay just out of eyesight, but close enough to trigger his Immortal warning system. It was annoying. "Why do you want to fight me?"

"The Game calls us all and I call you out. I will have your Quickening."

Daniel started laughing. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Mark, take this serious. He has challenged you," Connor rumbled, worried about his quasi-student.

"Fine," Daniel said, rolling his eyes. "Let's get this over." He grabbed his coat and stomped out of the antiques shop, forcing the unknown Immortal to follow, least he lose his prey.

Daniel led the man to the empty derelict warehouse where he and Connor had been practicing. Connor followed at a discrete distance, his concern for his "student" forcing him to bear witness to the battle between the Immortals. He silently swore that he would do his best to avenge Mark, should he fall.

The two Immortals battled back and forth. The stranger, who never bothered to introduce himself, relied on brute strength while Daniel used his quickness and form to his advantage. There was no way Daniel was able to match the other guy's power; the other guy had at least six inches on him and nearly one hundred pounds.

Daniel did his best to deflect the blows that kept raining down from above. He kept getting shoved back, always on the defensive, the other Immortal was doing his damnedest to try and knock Daniel off his feet.

Always mindful of his surroundings, Daniel knew he was getting pushed back towards a support post, but there wasn't much he could do to stop it. Instead of fighting it, he allowed himself to be shoved into the post and used it as a brace for himself as he lashed out with a sharp kick to his opponent's knee, causing this opponent to crumble slightly, and followed it up with an elbow to the man's throat breaking his larynx. They were old moves, but good ones.

The Immortal gasped, a hand going to his throat, desperately trying to breathe around his broken windpipe. The one hand that was still on his sword still holding on to the weapon, but was frozen in shock, allowing Daniel to quickly disarm him. Literally.

Daniel, using as much power as he could put into the swing, chopped the man's arm off, just below the elbow.

Daniel's opponent dropped to his knees, blood pouring out of the stump where his arm used to be, his eyes wide with surprise and shock. Mark Patrick was supposed to be an easy target, a relatively new Immortal with minimal skills. He was supposed to win this challenge!

Danil, no longer Mark Patrick or even Daniel, looked at his opponent coldly and spoke to the man in Old Norse, "I am Hades, the friend to the Four Horsemen. You should have stayed away. There can be only one and it won't be you." With that, Danil swung his sword, cleanly severing the loser's head from his body.

The Quickening storm that followed was fairly powerful. The Viking, Thorkell Anundsson, had been around for several centuries, collecting heads and lives. He had first died at the Battle of Edington and had been fighting ever since.

Daniel screamed as the energy entered his body. Every nerve was on fire. Pain filled his very being, yet was exhilarating and almost erotic. It was terrifying and arousing at the same time. Nothing could compare to receiving another's Quickening. Not food, not money, not power, not even sex could compare to the ultimate turn on that was experienced when another's strength, power, and knowledge poured into the victor's being.

He could see glimpses of Thorkell's life, see the misery he had inflicted on others. There was a sense of satisfaction knowing that he had ended that miserable bastard's life of terror.

All too soon, it ended, leaving Daniel gasping for air, feeling his raw throat from so much screaming heal itself, along with all of the bruises and cuts he had received during the battle between the Immortals. He didn't even have the strength to hold himself upright, instead just laid on the concrete floor, looking up at the severely cracked beam just above him.

"Come on Mark," Connor said, appearing suddenly, holding Daniel's discarded jacket. "We have to go." The Highlander hauled Daniel to his feet and dragged him clear of the building before the second floor gave way.

Once they were out of the building and safe from being crushed, the floor above crashed down, sending a billowing cloud of dust out of the battered windows and doorways.

Daniel pulled out of Connor's hold and sat down on the ground, exhausted. "He was going to go after you next, thinking you would be too distraught to put up a decent fight after your student was killed. I was just a way for him to get to you. You were his real target."

"What did you say to him before you beheaded him?"

A hard, cold look crossed Daniel's face. "I let him know exactly who I was."

Connor started to say something, but Daniel held up a hand to silence him.

"I don't need a teacher MacLeod. While I appreciate the chance to spar with a real partner, I haven't had a need of a protector in a long time," Daniel said tiredly. He would have said more, but was interrupted by near-by screams and the sounds of a riot taking place.

"I gotta go. I'll catch you later Connor. Be safe," Daniel said, rising to his feet, shrugging his jacket on, feeling slightly shaky, grateful that he still had his sword with him. He then disappeared down the street, vanishing in the crowds, using the Stonewall Riots as a cover for his escape.

~SG1SG1SG1SG1SG1~

"What do you want Connor? Why are you here?" Daniel asked, exasperated. He really didn't have time for MacLeod's shenanigans. He had kept tabs on the elder Highlander over the years. While he wasn't as much as a hot mess as his younger kinsman was, trouble always seemed to follow him no matter where he went.

"I want nothing from you. I'm on my way back to New York and stopped in Colorado to speak to an antiques dealer that I've known for a while," he explained.

"And?" Daniel asked, twirling his index finger, knowing that there was more to this story. "Who's after you?" he then asked, shooting blindly in the dark. "I know you are more than capable of handling your own Immortal issues, so I know you aren't seeking me to solving your problems. But something is obviously up."

"Us running into each other is purely a coincidence," Connor promised. "I think we just have seriously bad luck."

"That is so very true," Daniel grumbled. "I apparently have the worst luck in the entire galaxy."

"I don't know her, but she goes by the name Cassandra," Connor said tiredly.

Fuck.


A/N: Well, what do you think? Good, bad, indifferent. Feel free to hit the shiny review button and let me know what you think. Thank you for reading my stuff. I do appreciate it.

Also, a big thank you to Everlovin for pointing out my geographic mistakes in chapter 1. They are fixed now thanks to you!

Thank you Lori for looking things over and your encouragement.

And about Daniel being thought of as being gay: I have nothing against anyone who is gay. Please don't think I am being a hater. Whatever you do with your life and as long as it doesn't harm anyone else, I don't care. I was referring more to the wedding scene in "200" where Jack (and himself) kind of alluded to the idea that Daniel could be thought of as being gay, which totally cracked me up and made me think of all of the Daniel/Jack 'shippers out there.