AN: For anyone who's interested, you can see the HIGHLANDER every day at 3 pm and 4 pm Eastern on Spike TV. (Which used to be TNN.) They also repeat the first episode at 1 am, I think. It's a good show. Although, sadly, my favorite season just finished up. But it's still good.

PART FIVE

Clark frowned as he studied the funeral attendees. Two men stood apart from the crowd. One had gray hair and a beard, and was leaning on a cane. The other had to be the Immortal. He wore a long overcoat, a perfect place to hide a sword. And he was staring at Chloe, which meant he must've sensed her with that buzz thing.

Clark's heart lurched in his chest. Okay, Chloe was in no real danger. If the man tried anything, Clark knew he could protect her. But the fact that there was a guy standing right there who might, at this very moment, be thinking of killing his friend didn't sit well with Clark. Plus, it made him think of what could've happened if he hadn't come with her today.

"Come on," Clark said, mouth set in a grim line. He took a step back and tried to pull Chloe with him. "Let's go."

But she didn't budge. Instead, she took a shaky breath and said, "It's okay, Clark."

"It's okay?" Clark asked in disbelief. He frowned down at her, as if she'd lost her mind.

"A cemetery is holy ground," she said. "He can't touch me here."

Clark rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure about these Rules of theirs. After all, they wouldn't mean much if the other guy cheated. And how honorable could a bunch of people who went around cutting each other's heads off really be?

Chloe glanced at him over her shoulder. "Think about it, Clark. I came here hoping to learn more about Immortals. And look! There's an Immortal right there, who can tell me all the things Merrick didn't because..." She flinched, as if from some physical pain, before going on. "Well, that he didn't. I still have so many questions, and this guy probably has the answers."

She sounded so reasonable, so calm. Clark would've bought it if her eyes didn't have that wide, panicky look to them.

"Well," he said, "I'm thinking, if he wants your head, he won't be interested in telling you much of anything."

Chloe gave him a long, pitying look. Then she shook her head and turned back to stare at the man.

Clark's jaw clenched as he realized he was about to be ignored. Ignored and patronized, which was always fun.

He didn't like this. Not at all. But aside from picking her up and carrying her to the truck (which he could do with ease, but not without causing a scene) what could he do?

He settled for giving the other Immortal a long, warning glare.

*****

"Joe." Duncan MacCleod kept his voice low in deference to the other mourners. "That's her, isn't it?"

"Yeah." The Watcher frowned in confusion. "She matches the pictures in the file. But what is she doing here?"

"You said she and Ramirez met face-to-face."

"Yeah, Mac, but it was for two minutes, tops. And there's no way he gave her his name." Dawson lips twisted into a frown of displeasure. "Of course, the picture in the paper would've been enough for her to recognize him."

Duncan had to smile at the disgust in Dawson's voice. The Watchers believed in seeing without being seen. They observed from the shadows, and tried to remain inconspicuous. Having a Watcher's picture appear in a newspaper was close to sacrilege to them.

Duncan's amusement faded as he studied the new Immortal. She was so young. A child tossed into a Game of life and death. Forced to pass her first test when her teacher tried to take her head, and left alone to come to terms with her Immortality.

Duncan pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat, and tried to tamp down the traces of anger he still felt towards Joe. He wished his friend had told him about the girl sooner. Mac only knew about her because he'd been there when Joe got the call about Ramirez's. While Joe got involved in Immortal business more often than his peers, he still tried not to interfere unless necessary. And, in this case, he hadn't thought it was necessary. But shaken by news of the younger Watcher's death, Joe told the Highlander everything.

Now, as he studied the girl, all of Duncan's protective, chivalric instincts—the ones Methos liked to make fun of—rose to the surface. He knew what it was like to be newly Immortal and alone, with no-one else like you to turn to for guidance. How lost and freakish it could make you feel. He'd promised to never let another Immortal go through what he had.

Which was why he was here.

*****

As the funeral service continued, Chloe tried to stay strong. But her heart was pounding. The blood was rushing through her ears. Her palms were sweaty.

Okay, so maybe she was going to have a panic attack after all.

But mixed in with the fear was curiosity. A zing of adrenaline surged through her blood. It was the same feeling she got when she was following a hot lead, a mix of anxiety and excitement that could be addictive. She found herself wishing the service would end, so that whatever was going to happen could happen.

Finally, the service did end. The man with the cane went to speak to some of the other mourners.

And the Immortal started straight towards them.

"Oh, God," Chloe whispered, grabbing Clark's arm.

Maybe Clark picked up on her panic. When he said, "Okay, we're leaving now," he sounded all forceful and determined. And, suddenly, running away didn't seem like such a bad idea to Chloe.

But she didn't like to give in to fear. Not when she was on a story, and not now.

"No, Clark," she said, sounding braver than she felt. "If I'm going to meet another Immortal, this is the place to do it." Decision made, she released Clark's arm and took a step away from him.

"Hey." This time, Clark did the arm grabbing. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to go talk to him. By myself."

"No, you're not. If you really want to do this, I'm…"

"Clark," Chloe interrupted. She removed her arm from his grasp. "Stay."

From the look on his face, he didn't like being treated like a naughty collie. But, with a resigned sigh, he put his hands in his pockets and took a step back.

"Just keep the super speed on standby. Okay?" Chloe said.

Clark nodded. The prospect of using his powers to save the day seemed to make him feel better.

Wetting her suddenly dry lips, Chloe walked towards the man. She was more aware than ever of the sword tucked away in her coat. And the fact that she barely knew how to use it. On the other hand, this man had probably had years of practice. Or more like centuries.

We're on holy ground, a reassuring voice chanted in her head. We're on holy ground. We're on holy ground.

The two Immortals stopped a few feet from each other. As the silence stretched between them, Chloe realized she had no idea what to say. Luckily, he didn't seem to have that problem.

"I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," he said, a hint of an accent coloring his voice.

Chloe took a deep, uneven breath. Then, taking another step forward, she stuck out her hand. "Chloe Sullivan. Of Smallville."

(TO BE CONTINUED)