((Browning belongs to Browning, the BBC belongs to the BBC (this makes sense now) - just using there names for the story nothing more and thank you for the reviews. The quote is Isaac Asimov -- Also by post-Season 6 Highlander, this includes the short ill-fated run of HL:Raven))
Le Blue's Bar Paris, France – 11:50 am
As bars go it's an eclectic mix of both American and French design tastes. With functional tables and chairs evenly dispersed across the room with the layout tailored so that all eyes would be focused on the main stage that dominated the back half of the club.
Joe Dawson sat alone at the bar, a carafe of coffee and a steaming mug resting between his hands as he ideally watches the mid-morning broadcast from BBC1 regarding the latest invention from America, which the rather hyper anchorman was touting as a "...stunning innovation from America's Silicon Valley."
"And here I was sure that the toaster was humanities highest achievement," said Methos as he quietly walked towards the bar.
Startled by the 5,000 year old Immortals uncanny ability to enter any space with the quiet grace of a cat, with a slight start he turns to glare at the physically younger looking man barking out "JESUS Methos... How many times have I told you not to do that to me?"
Smirking silently like an immodest child he shrugs "If I told you the exact number, I fear you would think me a total cad," walking closer to the bar.
"I assure you that my opinion of your character couldn't sink lower," says Joe with a grin.
Muttering as he reaches over the bar for a clean coffee mug "I have no idea why I patronize this establishment. It most certainly is not the friendly customer service." spoken with an expert combination of righteous indignation and self-effacing humor as he slouches down on the stool next to Joe.
Picking up the carafe Joe pours the steaming liquid into the fresh mug. "Ya know for someone as old as you are, you shoulda learned by now never anger the guy pouring your coffee."
Methos's opens his mouth but his retort is cut short by the shrill ring of Joe's cell phone.
Sighing he sets the carafe down and fishes the small phone out from his belt, flipping it open with a quick flick of his thumb he presses the handset to his head "Hello."
The conversation that takes place is one sided with Joe only muttering several uh-huh's. Methos's already can tell that it's something to do with the Watchers so he's content to sip his coffee and watch the TV as he wait for the call to end.
Grunting softly "Well thanks for the update John; I want you to stick to her, it's been 12 years since she's had to go to ground."
"Uh huh... ya file an update to her chronicle as well and have the people in research start looking carefully as to what might be behind this," says Joe as his fingers tap softly against the bar.
"Ok, keep me in the loop and if you need anything give me a call." the cell phone closes with a snap.
"Something up?" Methos asked with slight interest.
"Maybe... maybe not, one of the more stable Immortals just up and bolted from her current identity. Her Watcher John Winters said she appeared to be dressed in surgical scrubs," as he tucked the small cell phone back into his belt.
"Define stability... and if I'm not mistaken wasn't Winters set to retire last year?" said between sips of coffee.
"Twelve years in the US Military as a Medical Doctor, seven years at her current duty station along with an adopted daughter... hence the reason John was given her chronicle since she'd been stationary for so long and hadn't had a challenge in years," he said picking up his coffee and taking a sip, his interest in the TV program lost he leans over and switches the set off.
"'Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.' The same holds true for mortals and immortals in this regard Joe," he said in reply.
This garnered a soft chuckle from Joe "Only you could see it that way."
Rolling the now warm ceramic mug between his long fingers, "I take it there where some special circumstances with this Immortal, unless the U S Military has decided to recruit 67-year old men. We usually get someone on the inside to do the Chronicle," he says as he looks at Joe curiously.
He stares into the coffee, the hairs on the back of his neck already starting to stand up after talking to John. Sighing he sets the coffee down and rubs at the back of his neck with his hand, "We tried to get someone within NORAD to be her watcher, but we couldn't touch anyone where she worked. The level of security clearance was too high. So we treated it like a high risk Immortal and stuck with long distance surveillance of her residence."
Setting down his empty mug and taking hold of the carafe "Who this mystery Immortal anyway?" he asks refilling his mug then, before setting the carafe down, motioning with the container silently asking if his companion wanted a refill.
Shaking his head Joe runs his fingers through his short grey hair before speaking "Currently she was going by Janet Frasier, but her original name is Kallisto... one of Rebecca Horne's few remaining students," he says grabbing his cane and slowly leveraging himself up from the stool.
The sound of his rocking gait fill's the room as he slowly walks towards his office in the back.
As Joe reaches his office door the silence of the bar is broken "Twelve years you say... with an adopted child...," Methos asked with practiced indifference his eyes gazing into the ebony liquid.
Pausing at the threshold to his office he turns to glance back towards the bar "Yea, why do you ask?"
Setting down the half empty mug on the bar he sighs "No reason, but I would hazard a guess that the Immortal population of Paris is about to grow," he stands up and moves silently towards the door.
As his hand starts to push open the door Joe asks from across the room "How can you tell?"
Standing motionless in the half opened doorway, his minds eye seeing events and faces long since passed; his mind remembering every instance in his long life in which he was forced to 'die' and move on leaving behind those he cared for.
As he finally turns to look towards Joe, his young face reflects a look of wisdom hard learned "She's going to want to get as far away from her old home... her old life as she can. Paris is both far way and one of the best cities in which to lick one's wounds." and with that he walks out into the downcast afternoon.
€€€€€€€€€€€
Denver Outside Palace Hotel – 4:15am
Moving again to desperately find a comfortable position, John Winters starts to lament why he hasn't finally accepted that he is just too old for this active field work, even when watching a very sedentary Immortal like Kallisto.
With his last call to the Regional Office made there was nothing left to do but wait for the researchers to do there jobs and find out what exactly happened. The fact that he had spotted her walking up her street barefoot, in surgical scrubs, leads him to personally believe that she had died in a car wreck.
But the pattern didn't fit her. He'd been watching Immortals for a long time, roughly 30 years of tracking the likes of Farther Darius and even for a short time the Kurgan.
And after a time you start to see the pattern in the actions of your Immortals, there various quirks. Such as with Kallisto, originally she would leave her house for work and stay on base, he judged, rather then commute back to her home.
But that had been before she had adopted Cassandra.
Now there was a mystery that the people in Research where puzzled by, Cassandra, the girl seemingly appeared out of no where; her documentation and the adoption itself as one technician put it was 'too perfect'.
When Cassandra entered the picture Kallisto's patterns, as he had predicted, shifted to a more stable 9 to 5 time schedule with perplexing times when Kallisto would remain on base. But given the world as it was that was not a surprise to him, with most military bases going through random 24-hour drills and lockdowns for the various threat scenarios since September 2001.
Yawning tiredly he reaches over for the brushed steel thermos and opens it to take a long draught of the still warm coffee he kept on hand for nights like this.
The buzz of his cell phone draws him out of his introspection. Thumbing it on "Winters here." he says as he rests the metal container between his legs.
((more to come muse willing.))