Standard Disclaimer and my apoligies to Sting

The next few days were weird. The story had gotten around that some nutball set the dorm on fire because of me, so everywhere I went there were whispers and stares. I just ignored it the best I could and got on with life as usual. Such as it was.

Professor Leville was currently entertaining us with stories of Lord Byron (the real one, not Maggie's boyfriend) and his lecherous ways, and that helped me take my mind off of things somewhat, at least until he told the story of Mary Shelley's sister. She was wildly in love with Byron, while he was indifferent to her, but he slept with her anyway, and got her pregnant. When he was confronted with this he's reported to have said, 'what could I do, she followed me to Switzerland?' That story made me wonder if that's what happened with Duncan and me. Maybe it wasn't so much me that attracted him, but the fact that I was so transparent in my admiration of him. That had to be an attractive quality-abject worship. However, I reminded myself once again that Duncan was too good a person to do such a thing and I put it down to general paranoia, what with being stalked and all. Still, it nagged at me. Yet another reason to resent Professor Leville's stupid footnotes.

On Friday, just when I was beginning to relax, another note was pinned to my door.

"Every step I thought of you

Every footstep only you

And every star a grain of sand

The leavings of a dried up ocean

Tell me, how much longer? How much longer?"

"Oh for God's sake," I cried, ripping the note off the door and crumpling it into a ball, "not more Sting lyrics." I fumbled for my door key, my hands shaking from a combination of anger and fear, thinking that it was time I gave in and called Joe. He would at least know what immortals were in the area, so I'd know whom to look for. I'd just gotten my door open when someone put a hand on my shoulder. I didn't even stop to think, but went right into defense mode and flipped the guy to the ground. "Hands off...oh my God, Richie, I'm so sorry," I reached out to help a rather bemused Richie Ryan off the ground. "it's just that I'm kind of on edge, and you scared me."

"Serves me right. I should no better than to sneak up on a black belt."

"I'm really sorry."

Richie smiled. "No harm done. I came to see how you were doing, actually. Anne told me what happened the other day. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Of course! I mentally smacked my self in the head. I didn't need to call Joe. Richie would know, what immortals were around, or at least could find out. I checked to make sure Anne and Maggie weren't home, then pulled him into the room and shut the door. "Richie, do you know of any immortals in the area? Possibly one who has a thing for Sting?"

"I...what...you know about immortals? Did Duncan tell you?"

"Yes, I know about immortals, and no he didn't tell me. I'll explain later. I just need to know."

"Well, I have felt a presence a couple of times on campus, but I never saw the guy. Why?"

"Didn't Anne tell you what was written on the wall?"

"She just said it was some song lyric..."

I told him about the line that mentioned a Quickening, and showed him the other notes. He read them then handed them back to me, looking very somber.

"Does Duncan know about this?"

"Well, no. I haven't heard from him, so I assume he's still off somewhere remote. Incommunicado"

"No he isn't. He's in Paris. I spoke to him a couple of days ago."

I felt like all the air squeezed from my lungs, and I sat down heavily on my bed. "Paris? How long has he been there?"

"I'm not sure, a couple of weeks, I think."

He didn't call me. He was in Paris, where I'm pretty sure they have things like phones and computers, and he didn't contact me at all. Some weirdo is stalking me, and Duncan is in Paris and he didn't call.

"Look, Molly, I think you need to tell Duncan about this right away. I have his number, we can call him now..."

"No."

"Molly..."

"No! I'll tell him if I see him. It's no big deal. It's probably just someone's idea of a joke. And besides, I don't need Duncan Macleod to rescue me."

"Well, I'll check around, see if I can find the immortal who's doing this."

"Thanks."

Richie shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I'm sure he's going to call you. I don't think he's been in Paris long. He probably hasn't had time."

"He called you."

"Yeah, but..."

"Richie, I really appreciate your help, but it's been a bad week, and I just want to be alone for a few minutes, okay?"

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't. "Just call me if you need me, okay?"

"Okay."

I sat there for awhile, as the room darkened around me. I was supposed to meet Anne and Maggie at the dining hall, but I wasn't in the mood for food. Or people. He didn't call me. He never felt for me the way I did for him. I knew that, but I thought I could handle it. I couldn't. I wanted him to love me like I loved him, but he didn't. I was just a girl. I was just...Mary Shelley's sister, whatever her name was. I was a diversion. I told him I would accept whatever he felt he could give, but I was wrong. I couldn't accept it, it hurt like hell. Still, I couldn't sit around wallowing in pity, I had to do something. I threw on some sweats and went to the park, hoping a good run would clear out my head.

In retrospect, running alone in a darkened park is a stupid thing to do when you're being stalked.

The attack happened quickly. I had stopped to get a drink of water when someone grabbed me around my neck. Once again I let instinct take over, and I grabbed my assailant's arm by the elbow, stomped on his foot, hit him in the groin with my free hand, twisted out of his grip and threw him onto the ground. Thinking the 'run like hell' option was better in this case then trying to immobilize someone who may well be an immortal, I turned to run, only to be punched in the temple by another guy. I fell to the ground, dazed, but managed to roll onto my back and kick at his knee, which, to my surprise and horror, cracked. He fell to the ground, groaning. I lept to my feet, gave the first guy, who was back on his feet a front kick to his stomach, then ran faster than I think I'd ever run in my whole life, terrified that they were still behind me, and didn't stop until I saw the welcome lights of the campus.

Anne and Maggie were all concern when I stumbled into the dorm. My head, where the guy had hit me, was already developing a bruise, and I'd scraped my knees and my hands when I fell. "You should see the other guys," I joked as Anne tended to my wounds, but they weren't amused.

"What were you thinking, going out alone?" Maggie scolded. "You could have been killed."

"I can defend myself just fine, and anyway, I don't know that it had anything to do with stalker boy. They could have been your run of the mill rapists or muggers."

"That's not even remotely funny."

"Sorry Maggie. Ouch."

"It's just iodine, you big baby," Anne said. "Richie told me you were kind of upset about Duncan."

"Oh he did, did he."

"He's just concerned about you. Everybody is."

Not everybody, I thought.

After my wounds were tended to, I gave Anne and Maggie a blow by blow account of my attack, and I have to admit I was rather pleased with myself. I'd never had to use my self-defense skills in a real situation before, and it was nice to know I could actually do it. By the end of the evening I was looking upon it as an adventure. I'd even convinced myself the attack was coincidental. After all, people do get mugged in parks, it didn't have to have anything to do with my stalker.

Except the next morning there was another note scrawled on my door in that same red crayon:

"I'll get you next time"