CHAPTER 54
"Pierson's name is listed as the father? Are you sure?" Devan asked Jack Reynolds.
"I hacked into the computer this afternoon, about an hour after the data was entered. And he's on
every form." Reynolds confirmed.
"This gets better all the time." He laughed. "I think I may have found a way to make him suffer
even more for the 150 years I spent entombed in that desert."
"More than taking his head? More than killing the woman he loves?"
"There are worse things I can do …" Devan hissed. "But this is going to take some time … and I
want to have a little fun beforehand."
Reynolds wondered what he had in mind … and he wondered if now would be a good time to
disappear. This was not what he'd signed up for.
----------------------
Duncan's flight into Chicago arrived on schedule, and by five he'd arranged to meet Cassandra
for dinner. She was more than a bit surprised that he'd shown up out of the blue like that, but she
was glad to see him so she bided her time, knowing that he would let her know what this was
really about soon enough.
They arrived back at the hotel suite she was calling home these days and Duncan poured them
both a glass of wine before settling into the sofa and continuing to make small talk. Cassandra let
him play his game for awhile, but eventually became bored and impatient.
"Why don't you tell me what you are really doing here Duncan?" she asked. "And don't tell me
it's because you missed me … we both know that's not true."
"Of course I missed you Cassandra … how could I not?" he replied, but the look on her face told
him she wasn't buying it. The last time they'd seen one another, things had been strained to say
the least … it was right after he'd asked her to spare Methos. She'd left town in a huff and hadn't
spoken to him since.
"I need your help." He admitted and Cassandra immediately wondered what he could possibly
need that he would have to come to her.
"It's about an old manuscript I found …" he said, drawing the copies out of his jacket. "There's
probably nothing to this … but it was intriguing and I thought I would do a little investigating." He
said as he handed them over to her.
Cassandra's eyes widened and she reached to turn on the lamp beside her when she realized
what he'd given her. "Where did you get these?" she asked. "Do you have any idea how old the
documents these came from must be? "
"I ran across them … you know I'm a collector and I've been thinking about opening the antique
shop again." Duncan hoped she wouldn't realize he was lying.
Cassandra continued to read them over, looking up every now and then as if she were trying to
figure out why she didn't trust what he was saying.
"Why me? Why did you bring these to me?" she asked.
"Because your name was found in the translation … and I took a chance that you might be one in
the same."
"Liar." She replied with a smile. "He sent you here didn't he?"
"Who?"
"Oh don't who me Duncan MacLeod. You know very well who. Methos sent you didn't he? He's
the only one who could possibly translate this for you … the language is unknown to the modern
world."
Duncan knew he couldn't keep lying. "How did you know?"
"I didn't exactly … just a hunch … but you just confirmed it." She smiled wryly. "So why does he
want to know about this? He should understand it well enough. Why does he need me?" she
asked as she tossed the papers on the table absently.
"He wanted to know if what was written there was real … or if it is a fable." Duncan replied
truthfully.
"And why is this so important to him?" she asked. "What possible reason would he have to want
to know the authenticity of a 2,000 year old story … what value does it possess?"
"He just wants to know." Duncan replied. "Is it true Cassandra?"
"He wants to know … or he NEEDS to know?" she drew her words out, savoring the idea that
she had something Methos needed … and must need very badly to ask her for it, even if he did
do so in the form of Duncan MacLeod.
"Does it matter?"
"It will always matter." She replied. "Some things I will never forget … or forgive."
She got up and crossed the room, opening the door. "It was good to see you Duncan, but next
time … come to see me because you really do want my company. I have no answers for you or
your friend. Please leave."
Duncan started to argue with her, but he could see she was in no mood.
He kissed her on the cheek and told her to take care of herself before starting through the
doorway.
"Couldn't you just give me a yes or no?" he tried one last time. Her response was to close the
door abruptly.
"No deal." Duncan said to Methos when he called from his hotel room. "She saw through my
story almost immediately and she won't help you."
"Damn her." Methos gritted out.
"Are you really surprised?"
"I guess not … but one can always hope." Methos replied sourly before telling Duncan he would
pick him up at the airport the next afternoon.
Turning, he realized Beth was standing behind him.
"I came down to get a glass of milk … " she said, walking into his arms. "Bad news?" she
asked.
"I've had better. But it's nothing to worry about." He replied, turning her in his arms so she could
look out the window and hoping she would forget about what she heard. "It's beautiful isn't it?"
he asked, showing her the large orange moon above the rooftop.
"It is beautiful … and so big tonight." She said, squeezing his arms with her hands as he held her
against him. "And I won't ask what that was about … " she looked up over her shoulder at him.
"You looked upset … but whether you want to talk about it or not, I'm here."
"How did I get so lucky?" he asked as he looked down into her face, all radiant with the love she
had for him.
"I've been asking myself the same thing." She replied, tilting her head up a little more when she
saw him lower his face to kiss her. His hands slid down her body to caress the sweet place
where the baby grew as his kiss became more and more urgent. They hadn't made love since
that first night, both knowing that they needed to work things out before it would feel right.
"I think I've changed my mind." Beth whispered as he nuzzled her ear. "I don't want that glass of
milk after all."
"Are you sure?" he breathed as he continued his attention down the slope of her neck. "I hear
milk is very good for a woman in your condition."
"I can think of something that's better." She replied, her eyes meeting his.
Adam wanted nothing more than to take her right there in the main room, but Claudia had this
habit of puttering around at all hours.
"My room or yours?" he laughed as he swept her up in his arms and started for the stairs.
"Whichever is closest." She giggled as she rained kisses on his face and neck and squealed
when he slammed the door shut with his foot and tossed her into the middle of her bed.
"Pierson's name is listed as the father? Are you sure?" Devan asked Jack Reynolds.
"I hacked into the computer this afternoon, about an hour after the data was entered. And he's on
every form." Reynolds confirmed.
"This gets better all the time." He laughed. "I think I may have found a way to make him suffer
even more for the 150 years I spent entombed in that desert."
"More than taking his head? More than killing the woman he loves?"
"There are worse things I can do …" Devan hissed. "But this is going to take some time … and I
want to have a little fun beforehand."
Reynolds wondered what he had in mind … and he wondered if now would be a good time to
disappear. This was not what he'd signed up for.
----------------------
Duncan's flight into Chicago arrived on schedule, and by five he'd arranged to meet Cassandra
for dinner. She was more than a bit surprised that he'd shown up out of the blue like that, but she
was glad to see him so she bided her time, knowing that he would let her know what this was
really about soon enough.
They arrived back at the hotel suite she was calling home these days and Duncan poured them
both a glass of wine before settling into the sofa and continuing to make small talk. Cassandra let
him play his game for awhile, but eventually became bored and impatient.
"Why don't you tell me what you are really doing here Duncan?" she asked. "And don't tell me
it's because you missed me … we both know that's not true."
"Of course I missed you Cassandra … how could I not?" he replied, but the look on her face told
him she wasn't buying it. The last time they'd seen one another, things had been strained to say
the least … it was right after he'd asked her to spare Methos. She'd left town in a huff and hadn't
spoken to him since.
"I need your help." He admitted and Cassandra immediately wondered what he could possibly
need that he would have to come to her.
"It's about an old manuscript I found …" he said, drawing the copies out of his jacket. "There's
probably nothing to this … but it was intriguing and I thought I would do a little investigating." He
said as he handed them over to her.
Cassandra's eyes widened and she reached to turn on the lamp beside her when she realized
what he'd given her. "Where did you get these?" she asked. "Do you have any idea how old the
documents these came from must be? "
"I ran across them … you know I'm a collector and I've been thinking about opening the antique
shop again." Duncan hoped she wouldn't realize he was lying.
Cassandra continued to read them over, looking up every now and then as if she were trying to
figure out why she didn't trust what he was saying.
"Why me? Why did you bring these to me?" she asked.
"Because your name was found in the translation … and I took a chance that you might be one in
the same."
"Liar." She replied with a smile. "He sent you here didn't he?"
"Who?"
"Oh don't who me Duncan MacLeod. You know very well who. Methos sent you didn't he? He's
the only one who could possibly translate this for you … the language is unknown to the modern
world."
Duncan knew he couldn't keep lying. "How did you know?"
"I didn't exactly … just a hunch … but you just confirmed it." She smiled wryly. "So why does he
want to know about this? He should understand it well enough. Why does he need me?" she
asked as she tossed the papers on the table absently.
"He wanted to know if what was written there was real … or if it is a fable." Duncan replied
truthfully.
"And why is this so important to him?" she asked. "What possible reason would he have to want
to know the authenticity of a 2,000 year old story … what value does it possess?"
"He just wants to know." Duncan replied. "Is it true Cassandra?"
"He wants to know … or he NEEDS to know?" she drew her words out, savoring the idea that
she had something Methos needed … and must need very badly to ask her for it, even if he did
do so in the form of Duncan MacLeod.
"Does it matter?"
"It will always matter." She replied. "Some things I will never forget … or forgive."
She got up and crossed the room, opening the door. "It was good to see you Duncan, but next
time … come to see me because you really do want my company. I have no answers for you or
your friend. Please leave."
Duncan started to argue with her, but he could see she was in no mood.
He kissed her on the cheek and told her to take care of herself before starting through the
doorway.
"Couldn't you just give me a yes or no?" he tried one last time. Her response was to close the
door abruptly.
"No deal." Duncan said to Methos when he called from his hotel room. "She saw through my
story almost immediately and she won't help you."
"Damn her." Methos gritted out.
"Are you really surprised?"
"I guess not … but one can always hope." Methos replied sourly before telling Duncan he would
pick him up at the airport the next afternoon.
Turning, he realized Beth was standing behind him.
"I came down to get a glass of milk … " she said, walking into his arms. "Bad news?" she
asked.
"I've had better. But it's nothing to worry about." He replied, turning her in his arms so she could
look out the window and hoping she would forget about what she heard. "It's beautiful isn't it?"
he asked, showing her the large orange moon above the rooftop.
"It is beautiful … and so big tonight." She said, squeezing his arms with her hands as he held her
against him. "And I won't ask what that was about … " she looked up over her shoulder at him.
"You looked upset … but whether you want to talk about it or not, I'm here."
"How did I get so lucky?" he asked as he looked down into her face, all radiant with the love she
had for him.
"I've been asking myself the same thing." She replied, tilting her head up a little more when she
saw him lower his face to kiss her. His hands slid down her body to caress the sweet place
where the baby grew as his kiss became more and more urgent. They hadn't made love since
that first night, both knowing that they needed to work things out before it would feel right.
"I think I've changed my mind." Beth whispered as he nuzzled her ear. "I don't want that glass of
milk after all."
"Are you sure?" he breathed as he continued his attention down the slope of her neck. "I hear
milk is very good for a woman in your condition."
"I can think of something that's better." She replied, her eyes meeting his.
Adam wanted nothing more than to take her right there in the main room, but Claudia had this
habit of puttering around at all hours.
"My room or yours?" he laughed as he swept her up in his arms and started for the stairs.
"Whichever is closest." She giggled as she rained kisses on his face and neck and squealed
when he slammed the door shut with his foot and tossed her into the middle of her bed.