The concept of the Highlander universe and the character of Duncan MacLeod were created by someone else. They belong to someone else. Actually, they belong to a bunch of people - Gregory Widen, Peter Davis, William Panzer, the folks at Gaumont, and those at Rysher Entertainment, as well. They do not belong to me, and I'm borrowing them without permission. Because Highlander-The Series is my favorite TV show, and because this story has been written out of love with no hope of monetary gain - I hope they'll forgive the transgression.

This story is mine as are characters of Dallas Delany, Sukhe Khan and various minor players - so please don't take them anywhere without letting me know. I hope you enjoy the story and if you do, I'd love to hear your comments.


A Splash of Color - Chapter 3

The wave of noise from the happy hour crowd rolled through the double doors of Joe's even before Duncan lifted his hand to push them open. He had come at a bad time, but it couldn't be helped.

Making his way across the room, he edged through the thicket of patrons celebrating the end of a work day. Behind the bar, the lone bartender worked his beat with the speedy, yet deliberate pace of an experienced hand. He was one of Joe's regulars, but Duncan couldn't remember his name. As he approached the bar, he swept a cursory glance around the room to locate Joe, but he came up empty. The owner was nowhere in sight.

A pretty blonde woman flashed him an alluring smile, then she nudged the man standing next to her to clear a slot at the crowded bar. Easing into the space, Duncan returned the woman's smile, but he ignored the venomous scowl that reddened the pale face of her companion. The man stretched his neck, straightened his shoulders, then adjusted his dark-rimmed glasses as he glared at this new rival for the woman's affection.

A vivid image of a bull shaking its horns and stomping its feet surfaced in Duncan's mind, and he struggled to suppress the smile it triggered. Avoiding a puddle of condensation, he rested his elbow on the bar and held one finger up to summon the bartender.

"What'll ya have?" the man asked as he swabbed the puddle with a quick flash of a bar rag. A Watcher tattoo decorated his thick wrist.

"Single malt whiskey," Duncan replied automatically, then he remembered Jake's last request. "No, ah ... make that a Coors and a shot of Jack Daniels."

"Bottle or draft?" the bartender asked, as he snagged the bottle of Jack Daniels from the speed rack below him.

"Bottle," Duncan replied. Jake would have chosen the bottle. If he was going to do this, he may as well do it right.

The bartender spun a shot glass into place before him, and deftly filled it to the brim with amber liquid, then he turned to the cooler for the beer.

Duncan picked up the shot glass. He held it before him in a silent salute. To you old friend - may you find peace wherever you are. He downed the strong liquor in one swallow and it burned as it slid down his throat.

The bartender returned quickly. He slid a brown bottle across the polished surface of the bar. Duncan passed a ten dollar bill across in exchange. "Is Joe around?" he asked.

"He's around somewhere," the bartender replied.

"If you see him, would you tell him, Duncan MacLeod is looking for him?"

He smiled at the expression of consternation that crossed the bartender's face. The man apparently knew who he was, and obviously didn't approve of Watchers consorting with Immortals. Too bad.

Duncan sipped his beer and watched as the bartender shrugged, trudged to the end of the bar, then disappeared around the corner. Despite any misgivings he may have had, the man clearly knew who paid his salary.

Waiting for the bartender to fetch Joe, Duncan amused himself by surreptitiously observing the drama being acted out next to him. The blonde woman continued her attempt to attract his attention by rubbing up against him, while her companion attempted to restore his place in her affections by loudly clearing his throat. He was fighting a losing battle. Duncan hoped the man wouldn't start any trouble: he was hardly in the mood for a confrontation. He had more than enough on his mind as it was.

"Hey, MacLeod," Joe's deep voice came from behind him. "You've been scarce, lately. What have you been up to?"

"Joe, you always know what I'm up to," he said, laughing softly.

"Yeah, I guess I do," Joe said with a grin. "Pete said you wanted to see me. What can I do for you?"

Duncan glanced around, then leaned closer to his friend. "Can we talk somewhere a little more private?"

"Sure. Come on into my office."

Duncan chuckled at the relieved expression that brightened the face of the blonde woman's companion, as he left to follow Joe.

"So what can I do for you, Mac?" Joe asked as he eased himself into the chair behind his desk.

Duncan picked up a couple of computer printouts from the only other chair, then sat on the opposite side of the desk. Joe took the printouts and tossed them on to a pile behind him, then he waited with his hands clasped in front of him.

Duncan settled into the chair, lifting one foot to place it on his other knee. He took a long swallow of his beer. Where should he begin?

"Have you ever heard of an Immortal by the name of Jake Pendleton?"

Joe smiled. "Yeah," he said. "As it happens he was married to a ... a friend of mine. Why?"

Good recovery, Joe, Duncan thought. But you're not getting off that easily. "A Watcher friend?" he asked.

Joe looked down at his hands as he chuckled softly. "Yeah, a Watcher friend. Why do you ask?"

Duncan studied the silver foil label on the bottle in his hand. He lifted the corner of it with his fingernail. "Because he's dead," he said. He winced at the slight tremor in his voice and bit back the dark emotions pressing at his throat.

"Oh, no." Joe sat forward, then he ran his hand through his silver-flecked dark hair. "When?"

"A couple of days ago."

"Jake Pendleton was no slouch with a sword. Who got to him?"

"I'm not sure. I never heard of him. I thought you might know. His name is Sukhe Khan."

Joe frowned, then he scrubbed his hand over his face. "He's bad news, Mac. You're not thinking about going after him, are you?"

"I might. I haven't decided."

An oppressive choking silence swelled, then settled around them as both men drifted off into their own thoughts.

"Claire and Jake had a little girl," Joe said, quietly after a few seconds. "I wonder what happened to her."

Duncan took a long swallow of the beer. It didn't slake his thirst, and it couldn't wash down the knot in his throat. "She came to me this morning," he said. "She wants me to find Khan."

"Khan's not his name, Mac. It's a title."

Duncan lifted an eyebrow, as he stared at Joe. "A title?"

"Yeah," Joe answered. "He came from a Mongol tribe back just before Ghengis Khan came to power. He was a minor Khan in comparison, but a Khan just the same. He died his first death in a battle, and when he came back to life, I guess the people of his tribe figured he was some kind of spirit or maybe a god. He ruled for over a century."

Joe lifted himself out of the chair and crossed the office to his computer. He slipped a disk into the drive, and pecked at a few keys. The file and a picture of Sukhe Khan flashed onto the monitor.

"He stayed in Mongolia until the early 1900's, then I guess with the revolution and all things got too uncomfortable for him. He's been traveling around Asia for the last 70 or 80 years trading in arms, drugs, information - whatever he can find a market for, I guess. Wherever he's traveled, he's left a trail of dead Immortals behind."

Duncan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Filling Dallas's request wasn't going to be a stroll in the park, and he wasn't sure he had the heart for it. Lately, all this senseless killing had become a heavier burden than usual. He shifted his shoulders to ease the weight, but it was futile. Spiritual millstones couldn't be manhandled as easily as physical ones.

"What are you going to do about her?"

Duncan shook his head, as he tried to grasp Joe's question. "Do about who?"

"Jake and Claire's little girl. Dallas, I think her name was. You said, she came to you."

"Yeah, she did. Jake told her to find me if anything happened to him."

"You? Why would he send her to you?"

"We were good friends," Duncan said, smiling. Now and then, it was nice to learn Joe didn't know everything.

"Yeah ... so?" Joe lifted an eyebrow, and waited as though he knew there was more to the story than that.

Duncan laughed. Joe knew too damn much. "And also, because she's ah ... special." Let him figure it out from there.

Joe turned to look at him. "Special? What do you--" The light of knowledge flickered in Joe's eyes as they widened. "She's Immortal?" he asked.

Duncan laughed softly. "Not yet, but she will be. And I hope to keep it that way at least until she's old enough to deal with it."

"Wow," Joe said, hobbling back to his desk chair. "I had no idea. Claire never said."

"Maybe, she didn't know."

Joe laughed. "I know Claire - if Jake knew ... she knew."

"Was she watching Jake?"

"No. She was assigned to an Immortal by the name of Charles Ainsley. He runs a book store in San Francisco. He led a quiet life and pretty much stayed out of the Game, which suited Claire just fine. When she adopted Dallas, she wanted to settle down in one place. She never told me how she met Jake Pendleton, and I didn't know he was an Immortal until I met his Watcher a few years ago."

Duncan turned the bottle slowly on the desk while he pondered the problems before him.

"So what are you going to do with her?" Joe asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Duncan shook his head. "I don't know. That's one of the reasons I came to see you. I thought maybe you might have some suggestions. Are there any Immortals who are involved with a boarding school or an orphanage where I could send her?"

Joe scratched his head as he thought. "I seem to remember an Immortal nun who runs a convent school in Switzerland. I'd have to check the files. Padre Santos has an orphanage in Mexico, but I don't think you want to send her there. The conditions are less than ideal, if you know what I mean."

"Mmm," Duncan said, nodding. "There aren't a lot of options are there?"

"Not if she's destined to be Immortal, there aren't. If she's killed in an accident or something at her age ..."

"She'll never survive," Duncan said, allowing himself the luxury of a sigh. He stood, and the action seemed to take all of his energy. "Do you have any idea where I might find this Khan?"

"Not at the moment, but I suppose I could find out. You are going after him, aren't you?"

"I don't know," he said, turning for the door.

"Hey, Mac," Joe called out to him as he clutched the knob. He glanced over his shoulder.

"Mind your head."

"I always do, Joe," he said, feeling the weight of it press on his shoulders. "I always do.