Author's Note: The characters Connor, Duncan, Amanda, Methos, and Richie belong to Gregory Widen. Everybody else is mine and of my own creation. (And I'd like to keep it that way please.) This is a work of complete fiction (although I wish it weren't....life could be a lot more interesting.) Any resemblance to real life people or situations is purely coincidence. In writing this I was not trying to be scientific, only creative, so if anyone reads this who is a total Highlander freak and finds discrepancies between the show, the movie, and my story, please let it go and enjoy it for what it is.

I didn't do extensive research, I wrote from the heart. Enjoy, have fun, I accept positive criticism and ignore the negative, but feedback is welcome.

Sincerely,
Meghan Edwards

Yes, in a thousand years people will fly on the wings of steam
through the air, over the ocean!  The young inhabitants of America 
will become visitors of old Europe.  They will come 
over to see the monuments and the great cities, which will then
be in ruins, just as we in out time  make pilgrimages to the
tottering splendors of Southern Asia.  In a thousand years they
will come!----

           Hans Christian Anderson

The history of the world is like a magic lantern that displays 
to us, in light pictures upon the dark ground of the present, how
the benefactors of mankind, the martyrs of genius, wandered along 
the thorny road of honor.----

           Hans Christian Anderson

My life closed twice before its close
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me
So huge, so hopeless to conceive
These things that twice befell
Parting is all we know of heaven
And all we need of hell----
 
           Emily Dickinson

There never breathed a man who, when his life
Was closing, might not of that life relate
Toils long and hard--The warrior will report
Of wounds, and bright swords flashing in the field,
And blasts of trumpets----

           William Wordsworth

So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay
and from Love's shining circle
The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie withered
And fond ones are flown
Oh!  who would inhabit
This bleak world alone----

           Thomas Moore

Prologue

To live forever has been the dream of many a mortal. They wish for eternity because they realize that their time is so very short. But for mortals, that dream can forever be only that: Just a dream.

What of those who already have that dream? The Immortals. They existed since the beginning of time and will continue to exist until the last moment of Earth. They can die, but their death is harder than that of any mortal. They live until their head is separated from their body by blade or by blow. This can last for mere years or for a century of centuries. They are bits of magic that mortals fail to see or miss all together on purpose. For mortals are always either looking for magic in the wrong places or looking the other way so they can claim disbelief.

The Immortals are warriors existing on the surface of time, fighting until one rises above. There can be only one. And this one will determine the fate of human kind. Whether evil or good, that remains up to the combatants.

They are the stuff of legends. And they walk among us....

Present Day

The rain beat down hard outside, running down the window pane. Light filtered in and threw strange shadows across Joe Dawson's face and dimly lit the small room. Joe rested his hands on a thick file in front of him and his fingers tapped nervously against it as he watched the man that sat across from him. Joe sighed deeply and began to speak.

"It's so nice to finally meet you." he said, extending his hand "I've heard so much about the legendary Connor MacLeod that I didn't know what to expect." Connor smiled briefly and shook Joe's hand.

Joe continued: "I'm sure you know why you're here, but I'm going to explain to clear up any confusion. This file," he said, putting the file into Connor's hands "Is now yours. I was instructed to give it to you if anything happened to it's owner. This is a Watchers file. Have you ever heard of us?" Connor nodded.

"Yes, but only briefly." he said in monotone.

"Well," Joe answered "Many Immortals don't even know who we are.

We are mortals who watch and record your every move. We have existed for as long as you have. You are in this file and so are many others you may know or may have heard of." Connor opened the file and flipped through some pages.

"Thank you." he said quietly. Joe nodded and opened the door for Connor.

"I know you already know the story in that file, but I think it would be to your advantage if you would read it. You'll find out things you never knew and maybe a few things you'd forgotten."

"Mercifully forgotten." Connor said sadly. Joe smiled sympathetically and shut the door behind Connor, who walked out silently.

"If only Mercy was so kind to us all." Joe said to himself. He walked over and pulled down the window shades, leaving the room in darkness.

Everything seems to be crying, he thought as he listened to the sky pour down it's grief. He then left the small office and went out into the weeping world.

Connor sat on the plane back to New York. The movie that was playing was making the other passengers laugh hysterically, but he didn't even seem to notice it. He was staring intently at the file in front of him. Joe had been right, he did know most of the things in that file and some of it he didn't want to know again, but he forced himself toopen it. He wasn't going to read it all, just a few connected events that would lead to the last chapter in the file. It almost scared him how detailed the reports in there were. The though of a mortal watching his every move, every fight, every Quickening, every lovemaking. It was almost perverse when he thought about it.

The Watchers never allowed an Immortal to read his or her own file. The shock of reading their lives, in perfect context, like looking into a mirror, would surely send them into madness. It had happened before. With a deep sigh Connor opened the file and stared at the page. It was yellowed with age and written in Latin, but his quick mind translated it instantly.

"We are watching." it read.

Yes, of course you are, Connor thought. He looked around the plane knowing that some mortal was watching him looking for them, but no one on the plane betrayed any sign that they were observing him. The page bore the motto and insignia of the Watchers. Disturbed, he started to look through the file.

He skimmed quickly through the first hundred paged or so, and finding nothing of great interest to him, he moved on. He flipped through about another fifty pages, then something caught his eye and he backtracked a bit. He smiled sadly when he realized that this was what he was looking for.

This was the beginning of the end. What was before him would take him on a journey he had already been on. The ending would be the same, but his attitude towards the ending will have changed. You don't live an eternity and not learn anything. Connor, still away of everything around him, started to read. It was no surprise to him that his name was among the first words on the page.

Memphis - 1845

Connor MacLeod stood outside the brothel watching men come in and out with their women. Most of them had probably left wives and children sat home in bed. The night was clear and the only cloud in sight was the blue one that lingered around Connor's head as he lit another cigar. He looked inside the open doorway and turned back again. He tapped his foot impatiently and walked inside after a moment of thought. He walked around tables of plump women in scant clothing, men playing poker, men getting drunk. Finally, seeing who he wanted to see, he walked to a table in the back. At this table sat Duncan MacLeod. A very drunk Duncan MacLeod. Who, at the moment, was trying to pluck a cherry out from in between a woman's breasts, which were pouring over the edge of her dress, with his teeth.

And having a hard time at it, too. Duncan, seeing Connor, pushed a mug of ale his way and then buried his head in the woman's ample bosom again. Connor took a drink of the ale, slammed the glass on the table and grabbed Duncan by his collar.

"You drunken fool!" he yelled, his voice barely audible over the roaring crowd. "Get off your ass, it's time to go." Duncan looked up and smiled dumbly.

"This is Celia." he said, gesturing to the girl before he kissed her. Connor shot his student a look that clearly meant business and Duncan sobered up. He kissed Celia one last time and got up to leave.

"You womanizing, drunken brute." Connor said, shaking his head, when they got outside.

"You should learn to have fun." Duncan said in protest, his words slurring into one another. Connor laughed.<

"You won't be saying ‘fun' in the morning when your head is pounding."

"I don't get hangovers!" Duncan yelled as he tripped over his feet and fell to the ground. Connor helped him up and stood behind him in case any other accidents happened.

"Yeah." he said, laughing "I'll remind you of that in the morning."

Duncan woke to the chilly morning air, his body ached and his head was throbbing. He smelled a large breakfast cooking and his stomach turned flips. After the nausea passed he looked around and realized that he didn't know where he was. He stood up quickly and instantly regretted that decision. With his head in his hands, as if that would stop the room from spinning, he saw Connor walk in. Duncan was having a hard time remembering the night before. Connor, who seemed to be able to figure our what Duncan was thinking, smiled that special I-told-you-so smile that only he could pull off.

"I don't get hangovers!" Connor yelled, mocking the Duncan of the night before. He continued laughing and shook his head when Duncan shot him a confused look.

"Where are we?" Duncan asked softly. Connor bit dramatically into a piece of bacon he had been holding and said with his mouth full of the greasy meat.

"At a friend's house." Duncan nodded slow comprehension.

"Connor?" a woman's voice called seductively from the kitchen. "Connor? Where did you go?"

"In here, love." he called back.

"A friend?" Duncan asked, one eyebrow raised. Connor nodded with an impish grin playing across his face. Just then the most perfect vision of a woman Duncan had ever seen waked through the door. An angel, she put her arms around Connor's neck and kissed him deeply.

"This is Laurel." Connor said after she had stopped showering him with her affections. "She is our room and board." Laurel laughed playfully and held her hand out to Duncan, which he kissed gently. She walked back to Connor and Duncan looked her over. She was thin, but no overly so. Her dress fit loosely, and afterthought of cloth, leaving the imagination to what was underneath. Her dark brown hair fell and curled it's way to the top of her slight waist and her haunting violet eyes stared intensely out from underneath tiny, arched brows. Her cupid's bow lips smiled enthusiastically as Connor swept her up in his embrace, her small body disappearing in his arms. When they came back up for air, Laurel backed away from Connor.

"Your breakfast is still on the table," she said teasingly "You better get it before it gets cold." Connor tried to kiss her again, but she stopped him.

"And remember," she continued "If you don't finish it all, there's no dessert." Connor smiled and Laurel pouted her lips in a way that showed him she wasn't playing around.

"Yes, milady." he said with a bow. He slapped her rump as she walked by and with a delighted squeal, she disappeared into the next room.

"Quite a friend." Duncan said, amazed.

"Aye." Connor said distantly. He was standing in the doorway watching Laurel in the next room. Duncan smiled and almost laughed out loud.

"And you called me the womanizing brute." he said. Connor turned his attention back to his hungover companion.

"So, you do remember some of last night." Duncan nodded, then shook his head.

"It's coming back to me in pieces. There's something about cherries, but I can't remember...." Connor started laughing and Duncan looked confused again.

"What?!" he asked. Connor laughed some more, but managed to stop.

"Nothing....I'll tell you later." he said "There's a nice big breakfast on the table for you if you want it." Duncan shook his head as another wave of nausea swept over him. Connor started laughing again.

"Or the outhouse is out back if that suits you better." Duncan looked out a window to where Connor was pointing. He cast a sickened look at the kitchen, walked out the back door, and made his way to the outhouse before he lost something he couldn't remember eating.

Connor sat back as the plane prepared to land. He had been traveling around the world for so long now that he had a hard time remembering the last time he had set foot on New York soil. He closed the file for now and closed his eyes until the funny feeling of descending back down to the real world passed.

It was surprisingly easy to hail a cab outside of the airport, considering it was rush hour. He sat in the back of the cab and listened to the driver jabber on about a family Connor had never met. A new son! Connor congratulated the man, who smiled like all proud fathers do.

How Connor had wanted to smile like that once, he still did. But it was useless to dwell on things that would never be. The man, sensing that Connor was uncomfortable with the subject of children, changed the topic of conversation to current events. Now Connor listened to how corrupt politics and city life had become in New York of late. He interjected "Uh-huhs" and "Reallys" every now and then, to assure the man that he was listening. But Connor's thoughts wandered to the file that sat underneath the folds of his coat, right next to his katana. He couldn't wait to get back to his flat to finish reading it. It was funny how something he had been through once intrigued him so much the second time through. Unfortunately, he would be reading the file anytime soon, the traffic was worse than he remembered.

He thought of the file again and of the name on the front of the file. How he missed that name.

A cab ride that should have taken no more than twenty minutes ended up taken over an hour. Connor unlocked the door to his antique shop and walked up the stairs to his flat. He threw the keys on his desk and they slid to a stop next to his phone. His coat landed haphazardly on his bed and he put his katana on it's rest above the mantelpiece. With the turn of a knob and the flare of a match, a fire began to burn brightly in the fireplace, radiating heat onto Connor's skin. The whole place seemed to be covered in a layer of dust and the sheets that covered his furniture made him think of a company of ghosts. And Connor was getting used to the presence of ghosts in his life. Ghosts and demons. He couldn't get rid of either one. In a shower of dust, Connor pilled the sheet off of his couch and let it float to the floor. He sat down and opened the file. Turning on a halogen light next to the couch, he started reading again.

New Friends

Laurel sat at the table staring forlornly at the dishes piled up before her. She didn't mind cooking, in fact she loved it, but she hated cleaning up. She wouldn't mind so much if she had some help, but right now she was alone. Connor had cone into town to get supplies and his friend Duncan was still losing his lunch in her outhouse. With a deep sigh she started moving the dishes to the sink. She pumped the handle on the faucet a few times and listened to the deep rumble as the pipes brought water to her. In a clear rush it ran over her hands and into the washing pail. She had just started scrubbing the dishes when he heard the door open. She turned around expecting to see Connor, but found Duncan half-walking, half-staggering into the front door.

"Feeling better?" she asked. He smiled weakly.

"Actually, I'm a bit hungry." he answered. This caused a smile of delight to spread across her face. She quickly abandoned her cleaning and went to getting Duncan lunch.

She brought in a steak from the meat house and boiled him some corn and potatoes. In an hour she had doubled her dirty dishes and Duncan was eating happily. More eager to talk than to clean, Laurel sat down at the table with Duncan and ate a small steak she had prepared for herself.

"How long an Immortal?" Duncan asked her.

"A long time." she answered "Longer than Connor. In fact, I knew Connor's teacher Ramierez right after his Change. We 'died' around the same time." Duncan's mouth fell open at the thought of this fragile creature surviving that long. She laughed at the expression that crossed his face.

"How did you die?" he asked after a moment.

"In old Europe if you didn't like someone, you called them a witch and you would be rid of them." she said Duncan shot her a confused look and she smiled.

"I was drowned as a witch." she said rather proudly.

"Were you?" Duncan prodded further.

"Was I what?" she asked innocently.

"A witch?" he answered rather casually.

"I've dabbled." she said with a sly smile. Duncan opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. She laughed.

"It's okay, ask me anything you want." Duncan looked relieved at this. She motioned for him to continue.

"Who accused you?" he asked.

"My father." she answered without the slightest change of expression on her face. "He accused me and the whole town came to watch me drown. When it was over they left me on the river bank for the animals. It was a great surprise to me when I awoke the next morning, but it was an even greater surprise to them. If they were unsure the night before about my being a witch, they had no doubts that morning."

"What did you do?" Duncan asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

"I disappeared in a ball of flames." she said laughing "An old parlor trick. The right amount of chemicals to make a quick explosion, and while they were blinded by the flash I dove under the river and drifted along until I came to the next town."

Duncan smiled, he had no doubt that this wise, beautiful Immortal had many stories to tell him, but with Connor's love for traveling he would be around long enough to hear them.

From outside Duncan heard the clatter of an approaching horse. The feeling he got as the horse moved closer told him it was Connor. Within moments his teacher was in sight, galloping towards the house with a bag over his shoulder.

"Laurel, my love." he yelled through the kitchen window.

"Yes, Connor, my dear." Laurel said with a smile. She took his head in her hands and kissed him lightly. Connor leaned halfway in the window and handed her a box. She opened the box and gasped with amazement. She pulled out a dress and held it up.

"Oh! it's beautiful!" she cried. The fabric was a deep purple silk that brough out the color in here eyes. She spun around with the dress in front of her and giggled like a child.

"Did I get anything?" Duncan pouted playfully.

"I can go back and get you a dress if you like. They had one in blue, which I think is your color." Connor answered. Duncan searched a moment for a comeback, but came up empty. Laurel, who didn't notice the antics between the two men was still admiring the dress. Suddenly suspicious she turned to face Connor.

"What's this for?" she asked. Connor smiled. "There's a ball at the Leonne mansion tonight." he said. Laurel's eyes narrowed and she put the dress in Connor's hands.

"I don't go to dances" she said.

"I know you can dance." Connor protested.

"Yes I can." she answered "But I don't go to dances." Connor waled over to Laurel and put his arms around her. Laurel tried to get way but found herself caught up in Connor's kiss. Connor then started whispering something in her ear. Laurel started smiling and took the dress back from Connor.

"You'll crush it." she said. Connor laughed.

"I thought so." he managed to get out. Laurel stuck her tongue out at him which only made him laugh harder.

"You're brutal, MacLeod." she said "But I can be brutal too." She then walked off with her new dress. Connor, still laughing, turned to Duncan who was shaking his head and smiling.

"Am I invited to this ball?" he asked. Connor smiled.

"But of course." Connor said with a bow. Duncan curtsied just as Laurel walked back into the room. Duncan tried to explain, but Laurel held up her hand.

"I don't want to know." she said "What you do you your time is your business." Duncan's face quickly turned red as Laurel walked back out. This made Connor roar with laughter again. Duncan threw the empty dress box at him and the both started laughing.

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BACK TO THE TOUR!

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