Never a Dull Moment
He wasted no time paying the cabbie for his meter, not to mention a handsome tip for the scenic tour.
"Hey thanks man, you're pretty cool for an old dude."
The immortal cocked one eye and smirked.
"I'll consider that a compliment."
"Oh yeah man....for reals dude." Duncan chuckled a little more as he stared directly into the kid's dark almond shaped eyes.
"I think you've neglected your real calling Kim. You'd make a fantastic tour guide...." as the burley Scot slid out from the back seat.
"Yes sir, man....Laguna Beach has it all. Just follow dat map I gave ya , and yu'll be cashin in on the babes dude. If joggin is what you're into....it'll get you there, and remember if you need any board lessons, I'll be your man dude."
The Highlander held up the small 2" x 4" florescent yellow business card in his hand and nodded his head.
"Thank you Kim, for the advice, and hope to see you around....dude," he gave the young man a toothy grin and a wave of goodbye, as he threw the duffle over his shoulder.
------
The shrubs, bushes, and lofty palms hid any view of the beach house from Des' private drive, and the 8 ft high cinderblock wall should discourage most intruders. Duncan stood outside the matching white cast iron gate and inhaled deeply....a satisfying change from the stale circulation inside the plane.
Glad to put Paris behind him for a few weeks Duncan punched in the numbers as he read them off his 'to do' list for house-sitting. 81627 as he hit the last number the latch clicked open.
Instantly he became overwhelmed by the lush grounds, hmmmmmmm can't wait to see the house, he said to himself in a low barely audible tone. Seemed his old friend, the prominent film director Desmond Deushain had done quite well for himself lately, as he gazed appreciatively around the man's newest acquisition.
He proceeded on through a low hanging archway of branches following a pathway of countless stepping stones until finally a large white Cape Cod structure appeared and literally took his breath away. The Highlander made a quick jog around a marble fountain, dead center in the yard and stopped. It all seemed so surreal as if he should be dressed in white and playing badminton on the lawn.
He could enjoy relishing in this atmosphere, for a week or two anyway, as he opened the second gate leading to the oceanfront entrance. There he found the key hidden discretely atop the porch lamp exactly where Des specified.
Punching in the same numerical sequence he turned off the alarm system, and rotated the key as he slowly pushed open the door. His eyes fell immediately on a large antique piece....a mirrored cherry wood and brass coat rack directly in the entry way. Classy and convenient he mused, as he dropped off his duster and moved up the stairs. He'd catch the grand tour later.
Duncan chose what seemed to be a guest room. Impressive.... More of a suite than a room it contained its own private fireplace within a sitting area, and off the main entry a large bedroom, bath and walk–in closet. All of course decorated in a classical Victorian motif. As he turned to unpack he gasped at the view from the large cottage paned windows, content for the moment to lie on the bed and take it all in.
------
Awakened with a start in a strange place he grabbed for his sword....now realizing he'd fallen asleep and left the weapon inside his coat, hanging from the rack on the main floor. It must be the fatigue, he murmured, unable to remember a time he accidentally let his sword fall too far from his side.
Rummaging quickly through his duffle he changed into a pair of gray sweat pants and a cropped sleeve Tee, slipping his Nikes on he ran down the stairs. A good run and a kata would certainly clear his head.
The evening seemed rather balmy a distinct heaviness filled the air, almost enough to discourage him from jogging. But, he couldn't let it, too many pent up emotions. The last semester at the University came harder than usual, he needed this holiday, a break....time to relax and unwind.
He grabbed the dog's leash and ran for the kennel.
"Hi ya Gambit ole boy...." hoping the aging Rottie would still recognize his voice.... "it's been awhile eh old man?" as he opened the gate and two stout paws landed straightway on his chest...."easy there guy." The huge Rottweiler almost bowling him over in his enthusiastic upward thrust.
"Where's your collar buddy" as he played with the loose skin on the canine's upper shoulders; rubbing his neck as the dog's tail fanned the open air...."Looks like a little exercise will do us both some good."
Placing the leash through the hole in the clasp and around his neck he pulled it tight and said....
"We'll just have to make due till tomorrow laddie...." as the massive animal bounded towards the gate pulling Duncan along at leash length. Both man and dog fled out the front entrance the Highlander barely having time to grab the gate behind him.
Winding their way down the path to the beach Gambit suddenly took off into the tide splashing through the water. Together they ran in a dead heat along the shoreline as the waves crashed in against their feet. Duncan's mouth gave way to a voluntary smile, as he held up stopping only for a moment to enjoy the incredible pinks, oranges, and purples while the sun slowly sank into the distant horizon.
Bending over to catch his breath, the leash fell suddenly loose by his side, and quickly he turned just in time to see his companion bounding off, ears flopping freely in the breeze.
"Och nah, Gambit, here boy," he yelled after the wayward animal. No longer a jog, but a dead run he tried to catch the frolicking beast. As unexpectedly as he took off, the Rottie turned in almost a teasing manner, as if encouraging Duncan to continue in the chase.
The Scot, having no choice ran at least twenty feet behind the dog, and finally as he seemed to gain ground against his canine friend he cut a hard left and darted into the extreme foliage of a hillside park.
Clipping in and out along a foggy foot path Duncan sighed....and bellowed out Gambit's name hoping there was no one around to hear the anxiety in his voice. Knowing Desmond would literally have his head if he lost this dog.
Then out of nowhere it came, the last thing he expected at the moment, as the mild buzz, and tingling sensation of a pre-immie permeated the air....Oh no, this is all I need, as he gasped for breath, and heard a sudden short scream fairly close in proximity. The Highlander without hesitation tore around the corner into a misty alcove expecting the worst, and skidded to an abrupt halt. There on a bench sat a slightly disheveled yet definitely appealing young woman, and a very large slobbering Rottweiler in her face.
"Gambit down boy" Duncan said sternly, as he eyed the canine's wake of destruction....taking one step further he placed the leash back around the dog's neck, and as he did something squished and scrunched simultaneously from underneath his shoe.
"Oh Goodness, I'm sorry," as he lifted his runner to reveal the residue of a chocolate covered wafered nougat, and glanced down to see the ground strewn with the remainder of a box of 'Ghirardelli' chocolates. His face turned bright red with embarrassment as he heard the soft muffled feminine snicker.
"Duncan MacLeod....destroyer extraordinaire and Gambit, canine torpedo and weapon of mass destruction....at your service m'lady."
"I can see you're quite excellent at what you do...." she laughed.
"Ravyn Beckstead....free lance marketing consultant and graduate student." she smiled demurely.
Duncan observed the reflection of the moonlight in her blue-green eyes and the shine off her thick ebony hair, and replied attentively.
"Your name suits you," as he shook her hand, and knelt to pick up the remainder of any chocolates still in the wrapper and visibly eatable. Placing each carefully back into the box.
"As does yours" she smiled once more the white of her teeth contrasted by the darkness of her hair.
"Mr. MacLeod....really you don't need to do that."
"Duncan....please call me Duncan, and we wouldn't want to waste a perfectly delicious box of chocolates because of a minor mishap with a ravaging Rottweiler now would we?"
"Mr. MacLeod, err I mean Duncan is this the way you always approach poor unsuspecting young women, by sicking your canine protégé on them."
"Uhhh no, not exactly, but if it worked you'll be sure and let me know won't you?" he smiled with a sweet smirk and a slight sigh. Relieved the young lady took it all in so lightheartedly, and offered her the partially mutilated box of chocolates.
"Chocolate covered toffee is my favorite how about you?"
The End
Disclaimer: Duncan MacLeod is the property of Davis/Panzer, and I have borrowed him only for the soul enjoyment of my readers, this story is not for personal profit or gain. The remainder of the story is all my original plot and story line.