Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.

Chapter 4

Jeff got onto his computer the moment he walked into his house. He had wanted to do this earlier, but there had been an article and picture to turn in at the newspaper. Then Lisa, beautiful Lisa, had asked him to dinner. Too bad the girl was not interested in him. No, Lisa liked to pry his brain for knowledge about the male gender. She was sort of dating some other guy in the newspaper office... it was a complicated relationship, from what Jeff could tell. The reason they had become friends at all was because Lisa was the one who edited Jeff's articles most of the time. She was smart, fun and funny. So how can you say no to dinner with someone like that, even if it is totally asexual?

So here he was at 6:30 at night, snooping into the history of Emerald Wallace aka Esmeralda de la Vega.

Born in 1383 in Madrid, Spain, died at the age of 19 in 1402, probably from poison. Found in 1404 by the Immortal Amanda. She had never encountered an Immortal before; only realized that she could not die. Spent two years training under Amanda, and then had many escapades with the older Immortal throughout the centuries. She was trained in Martial arts by May-Ling Shen and Duncan MacLeod. Spent time with Amanda's teacher Rebecca. Also spent time with Connor MacLeod, Robert and Angelina de Valicourt, etc. etc. Most recently widowed from husband of 51 years General David Stephan Wallace. The couple was married 1959 in New York and spent most of their time together in Pennsylvania.

Jeff stared at the list of names of Immortals with whom Emmy had associated before the 1960s. The list of names was extremely similar to the ones Rick had mentioned. The Immortals he had known before he changed his name, cut his ties, buried himself, and moved to South America.

Not a bad call really. He had learned some Spanish in Spain before. In spending three years down in South America, doing Heaven only knew what to create his fortune, he became fluent. The Spanish had come in handy here, too. He had quite a Hispanic clientele. Jeff often wondered if it had really been Duncan almost killing him for the third time that had turned Rick off from hanging out with other Immortals, or things that had happened during his time down in South America.

Not much was known about that time period. To keep Rick's past life buried, Adam Pierson and Joe had made everyone believe Richie Ryan was dead. That way, changing his name would work. Of course, it would not work forever. Not that Jeff planned on announcing anything to the Watchers. No matter how badly he was itching to get his hands on Richie Ryan's file. He knew that if he asked for it there would just be too many questions.

For now, Rick was still safe. The Watchers had not been able to follow the mysterious Rick Cloud at all in South America. It was not until he moved to New York to get his mechanics and business degrees that they caught up with him. By then, all the Watchers could do was to try and fill in the gaps. And to the Watchers, there were still a lot of gaps in Rick's timeline.

His knowledge of the Watchers had made him seek out his own. He had befriended the man who was his Watcher before Jeff: Harold Dune, and also befriended the head of the Watchers North American Sector, Jamie Allen. It had made it easier to get them to believe his, in Jeff's opinion, cockamamie story about being trained by Kol-tec in the nineties and running away from him after he "started to get weird." Kol-tec's abilities had always made him a hard Immortal to track; missing the short term training of a student would not have been that surprising. Jeff had never believed that story, so after a year or so of being Rick's Watcher, he had asked for the truth. Rick swore him to secrecy, but told him.

Jeff felt special not only because of his bond with his Immortal, but because of what he had managed to create in the Watchers, even before becoming Rick's. Because of his, Jamie's, Harold's, and Joe Dawson's efforts, a new division had been created among the ranks of the Watchers. This division was known as "The Servants". Not the grandest name, perhaps, but it worked. Servants were put under a special oath to observe, record, and help mankind. Which meant helping their good Immortals, if they so desired, take out the bad Immortals. They gave out chronicle information to their Immortal when it was needed. However, there was a clause: if their Immortal were to ever switch sides; they would have to terminate their mission. This would be done by either terminating themselves, before which they would try and inform the Watchers, or terminating their charge.

The cool thing about all this, other than carrying a cyanide tablet like a secret agent would, was that they had an extra tattoo under the first on their wrist, signifying that they were Servants, making a distinction between them and other Watchers. The Servants were still extremely rare. They were, for the most part, not supposed to reveal the existence of Watchers to anyone but their own assignment, and were advised to still try and remain aloof from their Immortal counterpart. Most Servants ignored this last part of the instructions. What was the fun of talking with your Immortal if you could not go to the bar and hang out with them on Saturday nights?

The problem with all of this right now was Emerald's Watcher. Jeff needed to find out who that was. Someone old and by the books, no doubt. They had a tendency to still have older Watchers on Immortals who were not prone to be very exciting. Emmy had been boring for the last fifty years. Jeff tapped at the keys and found a name and face to go with his data. Jessica Lake, 45, married, husband is in research. Jessica is looking for reassignment, as she doesn't want to move to Florida with her assignment. There was a number listed, as well. Jeff jotted it down, and called.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded like that of any middle-aged American woman.

He asked, "Is this Jessica Lake?"

"Yes, may I ask who is calling?"

"Hi Jessica. I'm Jeff Read, I'm currently the Watcher over Rick Cloud in Florida. We've recently had a couple of run-ins with Ms. Wallace. I was wondering if you were down here or not." He sat back, propping his feet up on his computer desk.

"No, they are trying to find a replacement for me. Has anything happened I should be aware of?"

"Nothing chronicle-worthy. She bought a Harley, and is apparently working at a secondhand bookshop. I just wanted to know if you want me to cover her for you while a replacement is found." Though of course these things were chronicle-worthy. The details of how Immortals re-created themselves after leaving lives told much about their characters.

"I'd love that, but it will have to go through Jamie. Are you sure pulling double duty won't be too much of a strain?" Jessica sounded all too pleased with this development, a sure sign of total nonattachment to her charge, along with her lack of interest in what Emmy had been doing lately.

"It would be a pleasure. And don't worry, I'm sure it will only be a couple of weeks, and they'll find someone new for her. I'll call Jamie in the morning and get back to you with the verdict tomorrow."

"Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Read! I've been so worried about Emerald's file, but now I know it will be in good hands."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Lake. I hope you have a wonderful evening." The regular end of call pleasantries were made, and Jeff hung up. He intoned dramatically, "Tonight, a rescue to achieve. Tomorrow, a long chat with Jamie about the future. Bring on my Peter Parker skills of situation control!"

At ten minutes to midnight, Rick heard a motorcycle approaching the front of the shop, and felt a now familiar presence. He swore in his head, MJ, not Spiderman. Of course, it was not a good example to dub the extremely lovely Emerald as Mary Jane. She did not fit the Peter Parker love interest at all. Actually, she did not fit any of the comic love interests. Not Gwen Stacy. She looked nothing like Felicia Hardy, either. The raven colored Shirley Temple hair and green eyes made her quite an original. She was shockingly pretty, and had a smile that could stop a truck when she used it right. She pulled off her helmet and used that devil's smile on him.

"Hey," she said, still totally calm and controlled. Rick wanted to know how old she was, and badly. She did not act like a young Immortal. She was way too self-controlled. Oh, she was snarky when it fit her mood, but it was all some sort of a word game for her.

"You're early. We've still got ten minutes to show time." Rick pulled out a pair of black gloves.

"I'm cautious. I didn't want you two boys trying to pull this stunt without me." Emmy's smile was still a complete mystery. She let nothing show of how she was really feeling.

"Now don't you think us 'two boys' can pull this little stunt without you?" Rick asked his usual hostility coming out. Now he had it. She was a black-haired Rogue, the one from the cartoon, not that bullcrap movie made a few years back. Not a Southern accent, but that was okay, she did not need one.

Emmy's smile flickered a little, but she kept it plastered there all the same. "I bet you are just a blast at parties when you're hammered. Probably the guy who's throwing all the furniture around and swearing at everyone."

Rick chuckled in spite of himself. "Nah, I'm actually a lot nicer drunk than sober."

"You want to try breaking into this building tonight? I'll let you, since your macho ego can't seem to handle the idea of a woman being a better thief than you."

"It's not that you're a woman. I've got no issues with that aspect, trust me. It's that you're Immortal." He watched her steadily.

Her eyebrows went up, and as she spoke her words came more and more quickly. "Have you looked in the mirror recently? So are you. Immortals work with other Immortals all the time. We're trained by other Immortals. My teacher and I were thieving partners together off and on for a couple hundred years. So why, why are you so turned off by other Immortals?" This time all the walls of control had finally broken and there underneath was painfully lonely frustration. Rick had found it, and now all he wanted was to put it back.

His throat hurt and his voice came out raspy with his own pain. "What's the point of becoming friends with other Immortals, when our goal in life is to take each other's heads off? Explain that to me."

"Maybe not everyone's after the Prize."

"You carry a sword same as I do!" Rick snapped.

"I defend myself," she said, blinking rapidly and he could see tears gathering in her eyes. "It doesn't mean my ultimate goal is to be the One. Sounds more like crap to me. What's the point of having phenomenal cosmic power if you don't have any friends around to share it with?"

Before Rick could respond, a black Jetta drove up, and it was Jeff who rolled down the window and stared at them with some concern. "We gonna do this thing?" he asked.

"Sure, Jeff. Emmy and I will follow you on our bikes. We'll meet you in the parking lot," Rick replied as he climbed onto his bike, putting up the kickstand and starting the engine.

The three drove quickly over to the complex. The streets were pretty quiet at this time of night, though not overly so. They parked the bikes and the car just far enough apart that it was not obvious they had come there together. Emmy led the way, using military signals to guide them through the shadows. They got into the building easily enough, and made their way up two flights of stairs before Emmy froze in mid-step and crouched down.

"What's wrong?" Rick asked, looking up.

They all three bunched together. Emmy whispered, "There's a guard outside the door tonight, and he will definitely recognize me. One of you two is going to have to take him out."

Jeff's eyes brightened and he leered. "You weren't dancing on his lap or something last night, were you?"

"Oh knock it off, you hormone crazed animal," Rick whispered, rolling his eyes. "Look, you two stay down here out of sight until I give the signal, alright?"

"What's the signal?" Jeff asked.

Rick gave him a look. "This is serious, Jeff. You, more than either of us, should realize that. Take it seriously. I'll probably just wave at you, or whistle. You'll know. Okay?"

Jeff nodded, looking a little abashed. "Sorry man, you're right."

Rick got up and continued up the steps. At the top, he walked up the hall, looking at the numbers on each door. He pretended to suddenly notice the man standing guard and headed for him, smiling, "Excuse me, sir. I know it's late, and you're out here for a purpose, but I just moved into this apartment complex and I can't seem to find my apartment. Is this Building Eighteen?"

The man did not suspect anything. He nodded amicably. "You're in luck, kid, this is. What room are you looking for?"

"This one," Rick said, and then punched the man in the face so hard that he knocked him out. The man hit the floor with a thud. Thankfully, no one heard and came to investigate. Rick motioned towards the others and they hurried up the staircase. He and Jeff moved the unconscious man to the landing down the steps. While they were doing that, Emmy picked the lock in less time than it takes to say 'call a locksmith.' As the other two came back, she silently opened the door. They entered the room. The guard on the couch was fast asleep. Emmy indicated where the bedroom was and stayed in the entrance to make sure their sleeping friend did not wake up.

The other two were back in a moment, the wide-eyed little girl in Jeff's arms, her hands clutching his shirt. They slid out the door and headed quickly down the stairs and to their separate vehicles. Not a word was said as they parted. There would be time to talk when Casey was home safe with her mother.