The bar was crowded, so the young guy could barely slip through tables. The only place available was a stool at the bar so he took his chance. Hopping on it, he sighed. Joe threw him a quick glance.

"Be there in a moment."

That moment prolonged for five minutes and finally Joe was able to get to him.

"Say, what can I get you?"

"Tap beer, cold."

In a normal situation, Joe would dismiss him and never have second thoughts, but something keep making him to look at the stranger again.

"New in town or just looking for a place to hang? No offence, but you look too young to be entertained by my music."

The youngster just smiled and looked at Joe's wrist. From underneath the cuff, the beginning of a blue tattoo was shown. Tapping his wrist, he nodded.

"Just like you, I'm a historian. Just our lineage is different."

Joe was looking at him with a new interest, but the youngster, if he could be called like that, jus smiled.

"No Watcher, I don't have a shadow. You and your people don't interfere with our lives and we pretend you don't exist."

Suddenly, his eyes freeze and a haunted look got over them.

"Say, you won't happen to have a second exit, don't you? I'm a little shy."

"Don't worry, Holy Ground here. And I bet I know who is the one intruding."

As a cue, a dark haired, broad shouldered man gets near them. The new comer's voice was husky and neutral.

"I'm Duncan McCloud of the clan McCloud."

The young one just waved his hand.

"John McCormick here. Not in African tribes business, just in beer ones."

Duncan smiled, even if he kept a healthy reserve.

"Well Mr, McCormick, don't go and wave the white banner. I bet they are a lot of ones whom won't be impressed by a pacifist. Hey Joe, hit me with a beer."

For a few minutes an eerie silence was kept between the two immortals. Duncan was looking over the new one. Young, not yet in his thirties, but who knew the real span our years passed over him? The younger one was looking quite harmless, but McCloud didn't passed his four hundredth anniversary believing and not be always in guard.

"So, Mr. McCormik, new in town? I'm asking just because it is a nice place, with not so many disturbances."

"Call me John. I don't know yet, I just took a hike because some nasty piece of deranged man came crushing to my living room and demanding a fight. I hate those who don't understand researching and history of our anomaly is an important thing."

Duncan just laughed.

"Joe will be thrilled to see he has competition. I don't think you will tell me if you see Paris being build?"

"I didn't saw it. But that doesn't mean I was there at the moment. I've heard about you Highlander; I've heard a lot. You're not in head-hunting sector, so I think we could share a few beers together without clashing."

McCloud smiled; the youngster had spirit. Just when he was about to say something, the feeling of the Buzz washed over them. For Duncan it was clear: Methos or Richie was just about to have their beer; for the young, the feeling was clear. An ancient one was around. And the feeling was bad. A woman was coming towards them. Beautiful, mysterious, with amber hair and deep eyes. She got straight to Duncan.

"Hello, Duncan. Who's you friend?"

Duncan was panicking. Methos was about to arrive and this woman was bad news for the old fool.

"Cassandra. He's John McCormick, newcomer to the Game."

"Newcomer?"

Her eyes roamed him and she looked like she was listening to some inner voice. The young knew who she was, he was feeling her Buzz and reading it, but his Buzz was cloaked to the minimum.

"He's got a weak Buzz, al right. But I feel tranquility dozing him. Tell me young one, did you ever meet an ancient shaman called Zyraxes? He had the same type of Buzz."

The young just smiled. He couldn't say to this ancient one he trained Zyraxes.

"No, Milady, I hadn't. But my life span is not so long as you think."

Fatality was putting his mark over this situation. For the third time, a Buzz feeling passed over them and, after five seconds, a tall man with a Roman nose was approaching. Cassandra's eyes were shooting daggers as she straightened herself. The newcomer gulped.

"You! I never wanted to see your face again, but destiny is calling. You and me, out. Right now!"

There was some real bad blood between them, a feud stretched over millennia. But neither of them expected the young one to speak.

"Excuse me, four is a too big crowd for me."

As he threw a few bills on the counter, he made a hasty exit, muttering: "And I thought this was a quiet town."