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)
