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 10

Shoes off, sock-clad feet propped comfortably on a stool, Duncan drew lazy circles on Amanda's arm with his finger as she snuggled against him on the sofa. She wore an angora sweater, and the sensuous touch of the soft knit provided a simple pleasure. The light pressure of her head resting on his chest wasn't bad either.

The heat from the fire toasted the soles of his feet to a satisfying tingle, and a curious sense of peace drifted down to surround his heart. He'd even allowed Murphy to curl up in his lap, even though his pants were destined to look like Amanda's sweater once the cat decided to leave. Drowsily, he watched Richie snap pieces of track together to form a circle under the tree.

"Where's Dallas?" he asked, oddly disturbed by absence of her cheerful chatter.

Richie shrugged as he set an engine on the tracks. "I think she went upstairs a while ago."

A ripple of concern ran through Duncan. When he had walked through the door after his battle with the Khan, she'd been sitting on the stairs in her pajamas and robe, waiting for his return. He couldn't forget the anxious look that had clouded her eyes. Nor could he forget how the fear melted into tears of relief as she ran to his outstretched arms.

He glanced around to search for her, wondering if the bright spirit, she'd been in all day, had merely been a cover. He had taken the Khan out of the Game, but no matter what he did, he could never restore the life that had been taken from her. Perhaps the cover had begun to unravel.

"I'll go check on her," he said, then stood, dislodging Murphy who yowled in protest.

Amanda caught his hand and tugged on it. "Leave her be, Duncan. You worry more than an old hen. She's fine. She's really very wise for her age."

"She's still a child, Amanda, and one who's been through a lot of trauma, lately."

"Who's a child?" the subject of the discussion asked as she made a grand entrance.

Holding a length of red velvet ribbon, Dallas clutched a tail of hair at her nape. She wore a green wool jumper over a white turtle neck shirt decorated with sprigs of holly. White stockings dotted with tiny candy canes, and a pair of black patent-leather shoes completed her festive attire.

She stopped in front of Amanda and handed her the ribbon. "Can you do this?" she asked. "I can't reach."

"Why are you all dressed up, sweetheart?" Duncan asked as he sank back into the cushions of the sofa.

"It's Christmas Eve," she said as though that was enough of an explanation. "Aren't we going to church? We always go to seven o'clock mass at St. Anthony's on Christmas Eve."

Duncan laughed as he pulled her into his lap. "I hadn't planned on it," he said. "Do you really want to go?"

She looked at him as though he had sprouted another head. "All my friends will be in the pageant," she said, with a wistful sigh. "And I was supposed to sing with the choir, but Jake told my teacher we were going away."

"What do you say, Amanda?" he asked. "Are you up for Christmas Eve mass?"

Amanda rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she laughed. "I don't think so ... It's been ages since I've been to church. The roof will probably cave in."

Dallas giggled, and the happy sound filled him with delight. "That's what Jake always said."

She slid off his lap and went to stand before Amanda. "But my mother always told him that the angels hold up the roof on Christmas to protect all the people who only go to church once a year."

"Well, then," Amanda said with a grin. "If they're going to go to all that trouble, I guess we'd better go. Would you like me to French braid your hair?"

Dallas's eyes widened with glee, and a hint of wonder. "Can you do that? My mother didn't know how."

"I think I can manage," Amanda said, then she turned Dallas gently and began to separate strands of her hair.

Duncan didn't miss the pleasure-filled smile that lit Amanda's face, as he stood. He glanced at Richie. The young man had his head bent as he set the cars on the tracks behind the engine with intense concentration. Duncan had no doubt he'd heard every word of the conversation.

"Come on Richie," he said. "The train will wait. If we're going to church, so are you."

"Huh? Church? What are you talking about?" Richie looked up at him, but the puzzled expression didn't save him.

Duncan slipped his hand under Richie's arm and lifted in an attempt to pull him to his feet. Richie resisted.

"Get up," Duncan said, as he continued to apply pressure. "Celebrating Christmas was your idea in the first place."

Richie stood with reluctant slowness. He brushed the dust of the trains from his jeans, then he peered around Duncan.

Glancing over his shoulder to see what had caught Richie's attention, Duncan saw Amanda tie the red ribbon around the braid she had just made in Dallas's hair. The girl stood perfectly still with her hands clasped before her, and she wore a look of sheer contentment on her face.

"Do we have to get all dressed up?" Richie asked.

Dallas moved to his side and took his hand. "Not if you don't want to," she said.

Richie crouched down, then he tugged on her braid. "You sure about that, Shortstuff?" he asked.

She nodded solemnly. "My mother told Jake, he didn't have to get dressed up. She said going is what counts."

Richie shook his head as he stood, then he smiled. "I sure hope St. Anthony's has a strong crew of angels working tonight. Three Immortals should test the strength of that roof, for sure."

Though Duncan had glanced up to check the rafters several times during the service - just in case - the roof held ... or the angels had done a good job. He wasn't quite sure which was the case. According to all the legends, strange things happen on Christmas Eve. Who was he to argue?

Just ahead, Dallas skipped along at Richie's side. Her bright pink hat bobbed up and down like a ball bouncing over the lyrics on a sing-a-long film. Her laughter and gay chatter drifted back to him in a steady stream and warmed him on this chill night.

At his side, Amanda clung to his sleeve while she fumbled with her shoe. "I don't know why you wore new shoes when you knew we were going to walk," he said, eyeing the gold pump she struggled to put back on her foot.

Though most of the shopping expedition was a blur, he vaguely remembered an extended layover in the shoe department - perhaps because it had chairs.

Amanda muttered a few curses, stomped her foot twice, winced, then treated him to an indulgent smile. "Because they are new," she said. Murphy would have purred. Amanda came close.

He wondered, idly, just how much those shoes had set him back, then he laughed and looped his arm around her waist. Nothing could spoil this night. It was just too perfect.

During the four block walk to the church, Dallas had explained that St. Anthony's evening mass was a special Christmas liturgy designed for the children. Part pageant, part traditional service, it proved to be quite different and a lot nosier than any he'd attended - even with 400 years experience. Far removed from the solemn services he remembered, this one had been filled with the tinkle of bells, the rumble of drums, and the blare of trumpets. Tender young voices rose in song against background of delighted chatter, and the occasional hiss of a parent shushing an over-exuberant child.

Inside the church, Dallas had whispered as she pointed out special friends and explained the parts each would play. He watched her with concern, fearing she might realize the depth of her loss. But then she slipped her hand in his and gazed up at him, Her eyes sparkled with pure joy, and he knew he'd made the right decision.

As he pulled Amanda closer, he suddenly realized that vivid splashes of color had returned to brighten the previously bleak landscape of his life. Red poinsettias, lush green wreaths trimmed with red velvet bows, green trees aglow with a full spectrum of twinkling lights, the golden gleam of flickering candles, and Dallas's pink hat danced in his head like the sugar plums in that oft-recited Christmas poem.

Amanda stopped to slip her shoe off again. "Who's idea was it to walk, anyway?" she asked, as she bent to rub her foot.

"It's only four blocks," he said.

"Four blocks of torture," she grumbled.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her. "Would you like me to carry you," he said, laughing, as he whirled around.

"Put me down, you fool," she said laughing with him. "People are staring at us."

He set her down gently, pulled her close, then pressed a kiss into her hair. "That's never bothered you before," he said. "Let them."

"What's gotten into you, MacLeod? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were drunk."

"I'm just happy. Is that a crime?"

Amanda stopped. She gazed at him with a thoughtful expression that crinkled her brow and drew her lips into a bow, then she smiled. A long slow smile that caught the twinkle in her eyes. "No," she said, turning away. She wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Not at all."

Richie and Dallas scampered across the intersection as the light changed, but Amanda had dawdled so long they missed it. Taking full advantage of the wait, he pulled her into the shadows away from the glare of the street lamp. "Merry Christmas," he said, then he kissed her gently.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"What?"

"Christmas - Is that the reason you're so happy?"

"I don't know," he said. The light changed, and he guided her across the street. "I don't want to pick it apart. I just want to enjoy it."

Amanda walked beside him in silence for a moment, then she stopped. "We could do this, MacLeod," she said.

"Do what?"

She nodded toward Dallas and Richie. "Take care of her. We could be a family, the three of us."

The bubble of happiness began to deflate. "No," he said simply.

"Why not?"

"Because it's not like getting a new hair color or a new pair of shoes. You can dye your hair. You can return the shoes, but Dallas is a person with needs and feelings. You can't take her back if she doesn't fit."

Amanda stepped back, then she spun away from him. Turning back slowly, she set her hands at her hips. "I'm not stupid, Duncan. I know how much responsibility is involved."

He caressed her cheek with a light stroke of his fingers. "I know you're not stupid, I just don't think you've thought it through."

"Maybe you're the one who hasn't thought it through," she said, then she looped her hand through the crook of his arm. They began walking again. "How many chances do you think we'll get to be parents ... to know what it's like to have a child? I'd like to try in at least once. Wouldn't you?"

How many times had he considered that quixotic dream? He thought of Kahani ... his life with Little Deer and her son had been the closest he'd ever come to tasting mortal life. But Dallas was not Kahani, and these were different times. Would he do her more disservice by keeping her close ... or by sending her away?

"Amanda ... this isn't about what I want or what you want, it's about what's best for Dallas."

"Two people who know what she is ... and who care for her are what's best for Dallas."

He took a deep breath. Where was the hole in her logic? The flaw eluded him, but he knew there was one in there somewhere. "Caring for a child involves commitment ... staying in one place for awhile ... giving up a certain amount of freedom. Are you prepared to do that?" He crossed his arms over his chest. Let her get out of that one!

Amanda stopped, then scrunched up her nose and brow in a most adorable fashion as she considered his question. He had her there ... he knew it. Heeding her restless soul, she never stayed in one place for long

"She's how old? Ten?" Amanda asked.

"Yes." he answered, slowly. Where was she headed with this question?

"Then we're talking about making a commitment for what ... eight, ten years?"

"Yeah," he said with the sinking feeling that he knew exactly where she was headed.

"That's a blink of an eye considering our lifetimes. I can do eight or ten years ... can you?"

He chuckled as he slipped his arm around her waist. "You make it sound like a jail sentence."

"Duncan, this is the opportunity I've been waiting for. She's a great kid. I could teach her so much ... and with you as her father. Just think about the possibilities."

"I am," he said, laughing, "and that's what worries me. What exactly did you plan to teach her?"

"Everything Rebecca taught me," she said, tilting her head demurely.

"I'll bet," he said, but the idea had definite appeal.

He already knew it would be difficult to surrender Dallas to someone else's care. He could watch over her from afar as he had with Michele and Claudia, but Dallas was different. She knew what she was, and somehow in a few short days, she'd chiseled a spot for herself deep within his heart. Sending her away might do irreparable damage to both of them.

As though summoned by the energy of his thoughts, she appeared suddenly before him.

"When we get home can I pick one present to open?" she asked. "Mommy always let me open one before I went to bed. But Richie said I had to ask you."

"I suppose that would be okay," he said, savoring the warmth of her smile.

"Good," she said. She wedged herself between him and Amanda, then slipped her hand in his. With a shy tilt of her head, she held her other hand out to Amanda.

Amanda accepted her offer. "Well, MacLeod," she said, "What do you think?"

"I'll think about it," he said,

But as he glanced down at Dallas's bright pink hat, he knew he had already made his decision. He knew Amanda's good intentions would fade quickly under the harsh light of reality, but it didn't matter. He would find a way to care for Dallas by himself, if he had to. The colors had returned to his life, and he wasn't about to send them away. .

The End