...Continued Part I: molto lento

Bert Myers leaned hard into Sanctuary's front door buzzer for the third time. He had told Nick an hour, so what if it had been two? Was that any reason to go locking him out? He buzzed again, holding the button down until the small brass speaker below it popped on.

"Boss? You're back already?" asked a sleepy voice that was not Nick's.

Peeved, Myers threw a glance over his shoulder to Claudia, bored and shuffling her feet behind him. "Tell me, de Vergesse, exactly why is my key no longer good at the front door of my own establishment?"

"Oh! Monsieur Myers," came Pascal's distorted voice out into the early Paris dawn. "The boss didn't like the original door, after all. So, voila, new door, new locks. I will be right up."

Only moments later, when Pascal arrived at the entrance, he was surprised to see Mr. Myers was not alone. Not that Pascal didn't think Mr. Myers a handsome-enough man, only he had not been exposed to the more social side of his second boss outside of the security firm and its operations. Bringing attractive women to the bar just before dawn was of course permissible, only out of the ordinary.

She was lovely enough, though mostly hidden from view in the cape-like wrap she was wearing. His mind did not stop on her for too long, though. Pascal de Vergesse was still getting past the disappointment over the fact that the bell ringer had not, in fact, been the Boss, who in his opinion had been gone far too long for his own comfort and amusement. Things, he was quite sure, would only feel right again with her eventual return.

In the time it had taken Pascal to climb the flight of stairs up from his basement apartment, Myers' frustration had not abated. "Where the hell is the doorman?" He balked for a moment before recalling the name. "Gerard. Where the hell is Gerard? Or did Amanda exchange him as well?"

Motioning the couple inside, and directing the woman at her request to the WC, Pascal mused briefly on what would be an appropriate response to Mr. Myers' question. Gerard the doorman, constant thorn in his bartender's side, a man so incompetent it was nothing short of a miracle that he could remember to pick up a paycheck each week. Even so, there was no reason that Gerard the doorman should have been at the door in the pre-dawn. The club had been closed for several hours, and Gerard had left for wherever or whomever he spent time with when he was not throwing wrenches into Pascal's finely-tuned orchestration of Sanctuary.

Be as that may, the bartender knew that now was not the time to unburden himself on Mr. Myers vis-à-vis Gerard. Myers was clearly tense on several other (no doubt more pressing) life-and-death accounts, so instead of responding, Pascal settled on an inconclusive shrug. Gerard's serial ineptitude could not go unnoticed forever. I will die first, he consoled himself.

Myers moved confidently ahead of the bartender through the many entry rooms and curtained-off passages that comprised Sanctuary's first floor, after one last turn, finally striding across a large relatively open room with a cathedral ceiling to the bar. He glanced behind to see if Pascal were, as he hoped, following. "Over-night guest downstairs?" he asked, his voice sounding of stress and exhaustion.

Pascal shook his head in the negative.

"Make me a drink?" Myers withdrew a franc note much too large to pay for a single drink, and held it in his fingers, pointing it at Pascal to take.

Pascal waived the money away. After all, he was already up. "What would you like?"

"Couple of fingers of vodka--whatever you've got, I'm not feeling too choosy. And a doctor that'll make house calls--before breakfast."

Pascal poured the vodka with one hand while he dialed the bar phone with the other. It was turning into another remarkable night. Inwardly he sighed, verging on contentment, and held back a smile. He liked his life. In front of him Myers had buried his forehead in his hands, still keeping one eye on the glass being filled.

"And ring Wolfe's room," his superior added. "Tell him to get down here."

It was not every night a man like Mr. Myers—a man whose life brimmed with espionage and derring-do--showed up needing his assistance, with a striking female under his protection. It was not every night Pascal found himself at five a.m. pouring strong drinks for people who interested him. It was not every night--at least not since the boss had been out of town. Yes, he nodded inwardly, he liked his life.

...to be continued...

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DISCLAIMERS: The characters in this story are not my property, never have been, and I'm just borrowing them for a few pages. No money is being made, etc.
It has been brought to my attention that I have not placed this fic within a timeline. Very well, it occurs after Highlander The Raven's episode The French Connection, where Nick gets shot and action is moved to Paris, but before Love and Death, when Bert Myers (though he chooses not to believe it) learns about immortality from Amanda.
In Highlander: The Series' last season episode Indiscretions, Joe tells Methos that Duncan is in London with Claudia Jardine, who is playing Albert Hall.
Thanks. In addition to this, I have other stories available on-line at Seventh Dimension and The Raven's Nest.
Feedback is cherished.