"Oh, well. Better get this stuff to the party", Joe thought as he went back to work loading the van.
As she approached her limousine, the emotional pain of the coming separation increased. Carl, who had been her chauffeur for over 15 years waited by the side of the car. Has she continued toward him, her mind saw a kaleidoscope of images, both Carl and his wife, Maria, had been her servants for a long time. They had become friends, they never questioned her sometimes very strange lifestyle, her odd comings and goings, the very late nights when she came in after obviously having been in some type of physical altercation. Nor did they question her when she requested Carl to go out in the middle of the night to some very lonely desolated area and leave her there. Instead, they befriended her, allowed her to be part of their family. She had been accorded the privilege of joining their family get-togethers, she had watched their 2 girls go from young adolescents into adulthood. She remembered the Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations, the excellent meals, the laughter and the joy of being part of a family. Something very few immortals actually experienced, and then only for a brief time.
They never questioned her lack of true aging, even though they had. Today, their first grandchild had been born, and she could see they desperately wanted to retire, but would not leave her if they thought she needed them. So she had to sever this relationship now as quickly as she would sever the head of another immortal, she had already delayed too long.
As the pain of this separation began to overwhelm her, eyes burning with tears she would not allow to fall, she clamped down on her emotions and
finished her walk to the car. "Right on time as always, Carl", is the Corvette in place?" "Yes", he replied. She knew without looking that it was behind the limousine, out of the sight of Joe Dawson. He had opened the door for her, she made as if to get in, just in case Joe was watching. Instead of getting in, she crouched down, Maria was in the car in the exact same cape as
she wore, but without the hidden scabbard.
She knelt down behind the open door, "Maria, Carl, thanks for all your help tonight, and for everything you have done for me, but this is the last time you will see me. Do not look so shocked, I know that you both have wanted to retire, and enjoy your grandchild. The house has been closed, and you will find in the glove compartment the pink slip to the limousine as well as the name of the attorney who will tell you how to access the retirement account I have setup for you. I am doing this fast because it is the only way I can do it without any more pain then absolutely necessary, you have never questioned my odd lifestyle, please do not start now, because knowing the whole truth about me, would not benefit anyone. Just finish this last job
the way I have instructed you, and when you gather your family together during the holidays, just remember me with a toast. Goodbye, my friends." With that she heard the van start, and quickly went to the black corvette not giving either one of them a chance to respond. The emotional pain increased beyond measure. As she got in her black corvette, a single tear traced its way down her cheek.
Once she got into her car, the van pulled away, Carl was instructed to follow
it for a few miles, while she drove close behind the limousine, out of sight
of Joe. This way, he would not know he was being followed. It was not long
before the van turned right, and her friends continued on straight ahead, as
she made the right turn to follow Joe in the van, she said a silent farewell
to those who had been like a family to her. She felt lost, alone, and
fragmented. She was at her crossroad, if she was to remain whole she needed
what only another immortal, in this instance Duncan MacLeod, could provide.
After she had discreetly followed Joe for awhile, she realized they were
headed towards the ocean, "A beach party on a cold and foggy night" she
thought in amazement. "Well I guess Methos is still doing things in a
different fashion from most". The salty odor from the ocean now filled the
air, and it was not long before Joe made a turn to the right down an almost
completely hidden path. If you did not know it was there you would easily
miss it. With her lights out she drove a little way down, and stopped her car
at a wide curve with a view of the beach below. She would wait and give them
all a chance to get settled before she made the descent. She was well out of
detection range by any immortal in attendance. On the beach below, she
could see what looked like a Harem tent, it was set well back from the wave
line onshore so that high tide would not prove to be a problem. The opening
of the tent faced the sea, a barbecue pit had been dug to the side so that
the smoke from the flames would not enter the tent. There were a number of
torches placed in a very wide circle surrounding the tent so that the front
was well illuminated with picnic tables at the sides. The tables were well
laden with various kinds of edibles. She would watch and wait until they
were settled.
On the beach, Joe backed the van next to the tent so that unloading it would
be easier. Before he was out, he heard Patches call to the others, Hey guys,
let's help Joe unload so we can get on with enjoying the festivities of this
night". He still was wondering about that woman he had encountered behind
the bar, she seemed so familiar, but he could not place her. The others had
formed a line behind the van and were waiting for him to start unloading the
contents. Duncan and Methos were right behind him.
"You seem a bit
distracted Joe, any problem?" Duncan inquired.
"No, not a problem, just a
puzzle, when I went to the bar to get the supplies, Sam told me a rather
attractive young woman had asked about me, said she knew me, and was waiting
for me. "But when I arrived, she just vanished. Then while I was loading
the van, this lady appeared from no where, I nearly dropped a case of beer.
We talked briefly, and she left, drove away in a limousine. Its just that
because of the cape and hood she was wearing, I never really saw her face,
but she seemed so familiar, its like I should have known who she was. You
know me Mac, I will ponder this until I remember who she is."
"Could she be
one of us?" asked Duncan
."It's possible" was Joe's reply, "but I do not have
your built in immortal radar, and did not see enough of her face to be able
to identify her, besides I don't know all of you on sight".
Duncan shrugged
and continued to help unload the van.
Up on the side of the hill, over looking the beach, she had continued
watching. The pain of the separation from her friends continually threatened
to overwhelm her, and plunge her into an existence of cold, dark loneliness.
They were certainly taking their time in unloading the van, and she would not
approach until all of them were settled. Finally, they had all gathered in
front of the tent and were settling down to begin their feast.
There was a path that led down to the beach to her right, this would allow
her to descend to the beach and make a frontal approach to the tent. Once one
the beach, she turned to her left and walked along the water's edge until she
was directly in front of the tent, but still out of range. As she turned to
face the tent, in what would be the exact middle, she took a deep breath,
"It's now or never," she thought. Very slowly she began the walk towards the
tent and the firelight, waiting for that moment when the headache and nausea
that indicated the presence of another immortal would hit. They would know
at the same time that there was an unknown immortal approaching.
When the headache and nausea hit, it was much more intense, the pain almost
unbearable, she wondered briefly if it was because there was more then one
immortal present. If three made it this bad, what would it be like at the
gathering. She was unable to move. She had to wait until the sensation
dissipated. When she finally was able to look up, she saw that all them
were on the feet, and swords that had not been in evidence before were now
there. With her hands held out from her, with palms facing forward, she continued approach. As she reached the edge of the firelight, her head held so that the hood of the cape kept her face hidden from view, she heard those all too familiar words, "who are you, and who have you come for?"
Not certain who had spoken, she just continued her walk towards them silently,
not answering the question. With only sounds of the surf and the occasional cry of a sea bird that could be heard, she continued her approach. As she drew closer, the question was asked again, this time she was certain it was Duncan who had asked. Glancing up, she saw a faint smile playing around Methos' mouth. Somehow he knew who she was without being able to see her.
"Figures" she thought, "I never could put anything over on him". In the softest voice possible, "I'm am here for Duncan MacLeod; however, it is not just his head I want, and I certainly have no intention of attempting to separate it from that great body", she finally answered.
Methos was chuckling as he stepped forward, "Let me introduce you to our unexpected guest" he said, but before he could finish the ladies of the Harem stepped between him and her. They had formed a loose semi-circle around Methos. "Methos!" "Before any formal introductions, let us make sure of this lady's intent." "My name is Patches, and if your intent truly is peaceful, you will not mind giving me your sword?" "Ah", she replied, "a lady after my own heart, direct and to the, shall I say, 'point', I have no qualms about giving you my sword."
Before she had finished speaking, the sword was in her hands, swept up into the guard position. It always amazed Joe just how fast and seemingly out of nowhere that a sword could appear in their hands. Unless you knew about immortals, you would never even suspect that they were armed in any fashion. She then loosened her grip on the hilt and allowed the sword to drop with the point facing the ground, and handed to sword, hilt first, to the one called Patches. As she did this she looked a deeply Patches' eyes, she saw no threat, just an honest lady who would not allow her friends too be hurt.
"Oh Patches, have no fear, I am not a 'Cassandra', I hold absolutely no grudges against Methos, in fact, I owe him a great deal, but then that is another story." "Besides, I have heard tales of a dinner party, now that would have been fun to attend."
"Now that we have that out of the way, Patches, can I continue with my
introductions?" queried Methos. "Sure, just wanted to make sure you weren't
rushing headlong into something", was the reply from Patches as she stepped
out of the way, with the sword securely in her hands.
Methos now stepped close to her, his hands very gently lifting the hood back,
and undoing the clasp that held the cape closed, "ladies & gentlemen, let me
present to you, Sera, sometimes known as Sera the Dancer". He removed the
cape from her, revealing that she was dressed in the classic style of the
Harem dancer. (As their eyes met, she remembered her first encounter with
him.
It had been early morning, the air was still cool, but the sun on her
face promised that the day would be very hot. She was working in the fields
of her village; the sweat was already trickling down her back causing the
welts on her back to sting. She had stopped hoeing to wipe the sweat from
her eyes when she saw him on the rise overlooking the field. He was on
horseback, just watching her. All he said was "you look like you could use
some help", and before she could respond, he had vanished.)
"Methos, before we continue with the introductions, I must first apologize to
Joe for the deceiving him this evening. I knew that if I approached you
directly with who I was and what I wanted that is was highly unlikely that
you would extend me an invitation to join you this evening." Sera continued,
"so please accept my sincerest apologies for perpetrating this deception on
you."
"Apology accepted" was the response from Joe. "I knew you looked
familiar, but since I did not get an clear view of your face, I could not be
certain of your identity. It is, however, a pleasure to finally meet you."
"I'm never going to get these introductions over, if I keep getting
interrupted. Now, can I continue? As I was saying, let me introduce Sera.
He took her hand and starting from their left, "Sera, you have already met
Patches, this is Dragon Lady, Troll Princess, Twig, Mouse and Athena. Now I
must add that these are just some of the ladies of the Harem. There are
others who, for one reason or another could not attend our little beach
party."
She extended her hand in friendship to each one, "I guess I should
apologize to all of you, too, for crashing your party. Let me assure you
that I do not usually make it a habit to go where I have not been invited.
It is just that tonight I needed to be with my friends, one old friend in particular", she then allowed her gaze to fall on Duncan, their eyes locked. Between old friends, no words needed to be said, but he knew why she had come and the pain she was feeling.
Methos realized what was happening between the two of them and started to release her arm when a voice chimed in "say is someone going to introduce me?" It was the redheaded young immortal standing next to Duncan. "Sorry Ritchie, I would like you to meet Sera, and Sera this is Ritchie, he was one of MacLeod's students."
"Nice to meet you Ritchie, I hope we can get better acquainted sometime" replied Sera has she very briefly shook his extended hand. Her complete attention then returned to Duncan.
Duncan's gaze swept slowly over her, "it has been a very long time since I saw you in that particular outfit. I did not think that you would ever again wear it."
"Ah, Duncan, this time I wear this costume by my choice, not
someone else's." was her reply.
As he very gentle took her hand, looking deeply into her eyes, he asked a very simple question, "are you going to dance for us Sera?"
"Yes, for my friends, I will dance." He then very gently guided her to the center of the ring of torches.
As those that had gathered for this beach party formed a loose circle around her, she assumed the classic position of the dance, her knees slightly flexed, her weight resting on the balls of her feet, her hands extended above her head, the palms of her hands facing outward. As the music began, she allowed her whole being to be taken over by the rhythm of the music, and as
dancers had for ages, the dance conveyed the feelings of the dancer. The deep pain she was feeling, the loneliness, and the need to be held and loved, to be made whole again. As the music brought the dance to the climax, she found herself kneeling in front of Duncan.
She slowly looked up into his eyes, as their gazes locked, she raised her hands, with the palms up, fingers slightly curved, she issued an invitation, "Duncan, would you care to dance with me"?
He very lightly rested his fingers on hers and answered in the affirmative with a simply nod of his head with a smile playing at his lips. They very slowly rose, their bodies moving together in rhythm to the now softly playing music, oblivious to those around them. His fingers very gently traced a path up her arms, across her shoulders, resting their briefly, and then continued their journey down her back until his hands rested on her very narrow waist. This very gentle caress sent the most exquisite sensations coursing through her body. Their dance had taken them to the edge of the circle, where he simply picked her up, cradling her in his arms, his lips very softly brushed against hers in the gentlest of kisses.
She whispered very softly, for his ears alone, "Hold me Duncan, help me to hold on to myself".
His only reply was "I know". They then simply disappeared into the darkness of the night.
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