Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Rysher et al, the Naismiths are mine. You belong to yourself.
Walter Naismith smiled as he came through the door and sniffed appreciatively. Maggie had been cooking spinach soup again, his favorite. And salmon too, if the smoke in the kitchen was any indication. “Hi honey,” he called out, “did you have a good day?”
“I’m in the kitchen, Walt, come in here so I can hear you!” When he came in, she kissed him on the lips. “How was your day?”
“Oh, nothing new at the bookstore, Jack and I were just working through some of the backlog. And you?”
Maggie smiled. “Terry got an A in science today.”
“That’s wonderful!” Walter praised. “What about that piece you were working on?”
Maggie shook her head with a secret smile. “You know I never talk about my work until it’s done,” she reminded him with a kiss. “But you should get to see it very soon.” Maggie was a sculptor, working in stained glass. It was a rather unused medium these days, especially in the ways she used it. Maggie’s unconventional style had grabbed attention, and she had one or two shows under her belt now. But it was difficult to tell which gave her more pleasure, her art or her children. Terry and Billy were still very young – Terry, the oldest, was still in seventh grade -- but Maggie could see the day coming when her two children would want to leave for college and the world, and she was clinging to these days as tightly as she could.
“I’ll be very happy to see it,” he replied, kissing her again. After twenty years of marriage, Maggie was still the best thing in his life. He would die if anything happened to her or the kids; he hadn’t realized how much he needed a family until he had one and realized that it made him complete. “But what are the kids eating, if we’re having salmon? I know Terry likes it, but Billy--”
“Shh,” Maggie touched a finger to his lips. “I have hamburgers for them, did you think I’d forget something like that?” She kissed him and then went to get the children, a strict rule in their house was no shouting though rooms for someone unless it was a dire emergency. In a few minutes the sounds of cartoons faded upstairs, and Maggie walked down again with Terry and Billy trooping along behind her.
They sat down at the table and started eating, Walter shook his head appreciatively. “Maggie, this is excellent. Billy, what did you do in school today?”
“Nothing,” came the answer, as usual.
Walt probed a little harder. “How was that English test?”
Billy made a face. “Dad, not while I’m eating!” He shrugged. “It was okay, but it was grammar. I hate grammar. But the teacher says this is the last year we have to study it.”
Terry snorted at that. “Yeah, right. They’re still giving us that line, and I’m three grades ahead of you.”
Billy gave his sister a demonic grin. “That’s cause you’re slower than me.”
“Jerk!”
“Weasel!”
“Kids, not at the table.” Maggie warned. She let the two of them fight, since they usually worked things out on their own, but she didn’t like name calling at the dinner table. “Walt, the kids want to sign up for martial arts classes, and I thought I should try learning some self-defense as well. Is that all right?”
“That’s fine,” Walt confirmed, “I never liked the thought of us living in the city with you unable to protect yourself if something happened. There are crazy people out there.”
“Great, there’s a martial arts place that’s having an introductory class. The kids say they don’t mind having their old, decrepit mother next to them, so I thought we could all give it a try.”
Terry grinned. “That’s because we’ll be in the black belt class before you can say ‘sensei’, Mom.”
“Oh very funny.” Maggie grinned back. “I’ll have you know I’ve still got a few moves left in me.”
“Yeah, from the bed to the wheelchair,” Billy jumped in.
Maggie sighed helplessly. “Kids these days. No respect.”
After dinner, Walter turned on the computer and started typing in the notes of the day. He never felt comfortable leaving his Watcher chronicle at the bookstore, so he had a password encrypted system backed up on disk, which he used to load in the information on how his subject had spent his day.
Maggie came in, and Walter pressed the combination of keys that replaced the document he was working on with a business ledger, so Maggie couldn’t read over his shoulder. It was the one secret he had kept from her for more than twenty years.
Maggie leaned over his shoulder. “Coming to bed, dear?”
“In a minute.”
Maggie kissed his forehead and walked upstairs. “Don’t be too long,” she murmured.
Two days later, Walter was watching the dojo, tape recorder and camera in hand, when he saw his own car pull up in front. Maggie, Terry and Billy got out, all chattering together. Walter felt ready to smack himself. Where had his brains been? Half a city full of martial arts trainers, and Maggie had to choose the one run by an Immortal! This was just great. Well, at least Duncan was known for being circumspect with mortals, and (generally) not killing without good reason, but it still pissed Walter off that his quarry and his wife would be spending two hours a day together. He had kept Maggie out of his business for a reason, after all.
Dressed in new gi's, Terry, Billy and Maggie all stood in line with the other pupils as Duncan MacLeod showed them the horse stance. “Remember to sit deeply in the stance, so you don’t get knocked off balance,” he instructed. “Don’t lean forward.” He corrected Billy’s pose, then went on to work on an older man in the corner. “Don’t tuck your thumbs into your fists, I know you think that protects them, but it’s a good way to break a thumb.” He demonstrated how to curl a fist, then showed them how the whole pose should look together.
For two hours, they punched and kicked, calling out foreign words for familiar numbers. Though Tae Kwon Do was easier than Maggie had hoped, she was very much out of shape, and was glad when Duncan called a halt. They sat down and meditated for a few minutes, at his instructions, then he dismissed them. He smiled a little as he saw Terry and Billy teasing their mother, it had been a long time since he had seen anything openly cheerful, without anything extra tagged on. After all the losses he had suffered in the past five years, he had almost forgotten how innocent people could be.
The mother had brown hair with more than a touch of gray, she was at least forty, but too proud to dye it. She had a lovely, maternal roundness and a strong, sparkling personality. The older child, a girl, had her blonde hair tied back in a short ponytail, and she was still growing into her face and was as yet unaware of any feminine charms she might have at gawky thirteen. The boy was younger, maybe ten, and had his mother’s eyes and loud, cheery laugh.
Maggie came up to Duncan with an awkward smile. “My children dared me to ask you, is there any hope, or should I go back to making cookies?”
Duncan chuckled at that, the smile transforming his face. “Oh, I think it’s not too hopeless. See all of you next class?”
“Definitely. See you Friday, then!” She hurried back to Terry and Billy, who were having a tickle war, and somehow managed to get them back into the car. But as she was getting in, she thought she saw her husband next to a building on the opposite curb, watching her. *I must be dreaming*, she decided, and started the ignition.
“I want you all to quit that class at the dojo,” Walt demanded at dinner.
“But Dad, you said we could!” Terry complained.
Maggie said nothing, just looked at her plate. This was exactly how she heard abusive husbands started out: Following her around, forbidding her to go anywhere without permission. This was definitely a little scary, but surely she was mistaken. After all, she’d been married to Walter for almost twenty years. She knew he wasn’t that kind of man. “Any reason for this sudden change of heart?”
“Maggie, I just think it’s too expensive.” he protested, though it was clear that was not the real reason.
“Walt, we can afford it, and the kids really want to.”
“Maggie, please.” What was he supposed to say? Your instructor goes around whacking people’s heads off, and I’m assigned to watch him? If my superiors find out you’re going there, I could be in serious trouble? “You can join another dojo, but I know the instructor there, and I don't like him.”
“Duncan seems like a very nice man, Walt,” Maggie argued. “If you can give me one concrete reason not to go, I’ll listen to you, but this is really not making a lot of sense.”
Walt buried his head in his hands. “Fine, go.” At least Maggie could keep an eye on the kids, help make sure nothing happened to them if Duncan went psychotic again. But he’d be damned if this was the end of it.
On Friday, the two kids and their mother arrived at the dojo again, and Maggie could swear she saw Walt in a window two stories up, across the street. It had been two days of constant pressure and arguments between the two of them, she really hated it when they fought. Walt was starting to scare her with his vehemence that she shouldn’t go to the dojo, and with his lack of reasons.
That day in class, Maggie paid extra attention to the lesson, trying to learn all she could. She had never thought this would happen, not after twenty years of love and trust, but she was frightened of Walter. When class was over, she went up to Duncan and asked, “Would it be possible for me to get extra lessons?”
Seeing that she was worried about something, rather than making a pretext to seduce him, Duncan took her into his office and closed the door. “Is something wrong, Mrs. Naismith?”
Something in his manner made her trust him with things she would not have told her closest friends. “It’s my husband. He’s been watching the dojo both times I’ve come here with the kids, and he keeps pressuring us to drop the class. I’m scared, I don’t know what to make of it. But if anything happens, I want to be able to protect myself and my children.” She buried her head in her hands. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Walt and I have been together for so long, but he’s never been this frightening!”
Duncan looked at her worriedly. “Is he hitting you or the children?”
“No, just all this secretive behavior and spying on me. It’s scary, I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve tried to get him to talk, but he doesn’t listen.”
Duncan shook his head. “You can come in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, free of charge. I’ll train you myself.”
“I can pay,” Maggie protested, not comfortable with charity.
“You’re already paying for the regular lessons,” Duncan reminded her, “it’s not a problem.”
“Thank you, Mr. MacLeod. I just hope all of this is my imagination going overboard.”
“So do I.” Duncan paused for a moment. “If he tries anything, you can come here with the kids if you don’t have anywhere to go. Here’s my number if you need anything.” He handed her a business card from the desk.
“Again, I don’t know how to thank you.” She left the office and gathered her children, heading back to the car. Duncan watched them go worriedly, wondering who was watching them.
Things continued like this for almost a month. Maggie brought the kids in for lessons three times a week, and went by herself the rest of the week. That was starting to alarm Walt, because he couldn’t see inside the dojo. Was Maggie having an affair with Duncan? Was that why she refused to stop going? Walt had never been so worried in his life; everything that mattered to him was slipping through his fingers. Jack had started giving him subtle warnings that the Watchers were not too happy with Walt’s wife spending two hours a day with an Immortal, and the pressure was really on him to get her to stop going by whatever means necessary.
That tension was revealing itself at home, as Walt’s frantic and worried behavior was scaring not only his wife, but his children as well. Maggie in turn hurried daily to the dojo, knowing that though Walt was watching her, it was the one way to insure her safety.
It all came to a head, when, in the middle of a vicious argument in Maggie’s studio, Walt grabbed the drop-cloth covered sculpture Maggie was working on and shoved it over, smashing it on the floor. Maggie tried to run out of the room, but Walt stopped her, trying to apologize. She hit him with everything she had learned over the past few weeks, knocking him to the floor and grabbing the children out of their rooms, running to the car in the dark and pulling away from the curb even as Walt raced after her, yelling.
Mac heard the buzzer at the door going off frantically, he hurried downstairs and opened the door, letting in Maggie and her two frightened children. The three of them were incoherent, he took them upstairs and locked the door again, giving Maggie a glass of Glenlivet to calm her down as she huddled protectively around her children.
“What happened?” Mac asked her, worriedly.
“We had a fight, he broke one of my sculptures, and he kept yelling at me, and I just grabbed the kids and ran. He tried to stop me, I had to -- to hurt him.” She touched her children again to reassure them, Mac could sense that if they hadn’t needed her to be strong, she would have broken down completely.
“You can stay here as long as you need, I’m going to--” he was interrupted as he heard the buzzer downstairs ringing again. “You stay up here.”
Mac went down in the elevator, sword behind his back, and saw a frantic man at the door. “What do you want?” he asked, not letting the man in.
“Please, my wife, I need--”
“She doesn’t want to see you,” Duncan interrupted harshly. He was tempted to walk away, but didn’t want that desperate man at his back; the door was little security.
Desperate, Walt pulled down his shirt sleeve. “Please, MacLeod, I was only doing my job! Please just let me talk to her!” Tears were rolling down Walter Naismith’s face as he pounded on the door.
Duncan paused as the Watcher tattoo explained a few things, then let him in. “If you try to hurt her,” he warned, taking the man up in the elevator after searching him for weapons, “there’s not going to be enough of you left to identify.”
Maggie looked frightened as Walt came up in the elevator, standing up and motioning her children to get behind her. “What is he doing here?” she asked.
“Maggie, Walt has something to tell you.” Duncan placed himself between the husband and wife, just in case.
Walt swallowed hard. “Maggie, I’ve been keeping something from you and the kids. I belong to an organization of people who watch certain individuals, like Duncan. That’s why I was watching the dojo, Duncan is my assignment. But we’re supposed to keep secret and not interfere in their lives, that’s why I didn’t want you and the kids taking lessons here. Maggie, I love you, I would never hurt you.”
Maggie paused. This sounded like something out of a bad spy movie, and it didn’t even make sense. Why would Duncan allow himself to be watched? And why was her husband the one doing it? She turned to Duncan. “Why do you need to be watched? If you knew about all this, why didn’t you tell me?”
Duncan shook his head. “I didn’t know your husband was a Watcher, all I knew was what you told me. As for the first part,” He pulled out his sword and sliced his palm, not particularly wanting to die in front of the children. He heard gasps as the wound crackled with blue electricity and closed before their eyes. “I’m an Immortal. I’ve lived for four hundred years, and that’s why your husband was watching me.”
“And there are others like you and Walt? Watchers and Immortals?” Maggie asked, her expression unreadable. “Walt, how long have you been keeping this from us?”
Walt sighed. “Maggie, I’m sorry. My dad was a Watcher, I’ve known about all of this since before I started shaving.”
Maggie just looked at her husband, disbelieving. “Is that what our marriage meant to you? Is that how you show you trust me? I want a divorce.”
“Maggie, no, please!” Walt begged, “Please, just come home, it will be different.”
“How will I know, Walt? Give me one good reason I should trust you?”
Walt swallowed hard, taking her hands in his. “Because I love you more than my own life, and I would die if I lost you.”
Maggie shook her head. “I don't think you know what love is.” She motioned to her children. “I don’t think this is the best place for us. Kids, get in the car, we’ll go to the airport and go to grandma’s.”
Walt caught Maggie’s hand as she tried to leave, getting down on his knees. “Maggie, please, don't throw away twenty years over this! This is the only secret I haven’t told you, I can’t stand the thought of living without you.”
Maggie looked at her husband, her eyes filling with tears. Twenty years. Twenty years of lies and false identities. Twenty years of children and stolen nights by the lake. Gently, she tugged her husband up to stand beside her. “We have a lot to talk about, in any case.” She turned to Duncan. “Thank you so much for your help, you were a real friend.” Then the four of them left together, awkwardly, not touching.
Back at the house, Maggie put the children to bed and went into the studio to clean up the glass splinters on the floor before anyone stepped on them. She motioned for Walter to stay at the door. “The last thing we need is you tracking broken glass through the house with your shoes.”
“Maggie, I’m sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” he pleaded.
“Which part? Your lying, or my finding out about it? Walt, this is obviously very important to you, it defines you in a lot of ways. The fact that you kept it from me means that I married someone who doesn’t exist; I don’t even know the person I’m married to!” She was fighting hard to keep her voice from carrying and waking the children.
Walt slumped in the doorway as Maggie pushed the broom around, trying to get the worst of the shards up before using the vacuum cleaner. “Maggie, the life of a Watcher is dangerous, especially lately. There have been a tremendous number of deaths, I didn’t want you to be one of them.”
“First, is it better if I’m a widow because you decided to play hero and be a Watcher? Do you want Terry and Billy to grow up without a father? Second, who said I wanted to be a Watcher? I’ve got enough to do as it is, taking care of the kids and you and dealing with my own career. I don’t want to slink around in alleys giving up my life to watch someone else living theirs.”
Walt paused. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I just don’t know what to say. In the beginning I just thought it was great, all this secret spy stuff, and then later it seemed too dangerous, I didn’t want to burden you.”
Maggie walked over to him and took his hands. “In good times and bad, Walter. Did you think I just married you because my mother wanted to have a party? Burden me. Don’t lie to me.”
“In the bedroom is my file, I’ll call it up for you and you can read it. If you still want to be with me after that--”
“Damn it, you still don’t get it, do you?” she argued fiercely. “I don’t care about this Watcher business, I just want you to be honest with me about it! Can you do that? Can you understand that?”
Walter took her hands quietly. “Maggie, love, you’re just going to have to see for yourself if I keep my word or not, I know you don't trust me very much right now. But I swear, I won’t keep things from you to protect you or myself.”
Maggie squeezed his hands gently. “I’m not going to throw twenty years away just like that. But Walter, things have to change.”
“I know,” he replied, “They will, I promise.”
A week later, Maggie and the kids came back to the dojo just as class was ending. Though Duncan was glad to see them, he saved his questions, trying to move his other students out the door so he could talk privately with Mrs. Naismith. When the last straggler departed, Maggie came over to him shyly. “About the other night Duncan, I just wanted to say thanks.”
“And you and Walter?” Duncan asked.
“We had a long talk. It’s looking good at least, but the kids and I can't come to the dojo anymore. It wouldn't look right to the other Watchers.” She dug through her bag, found the box she had placed there earlier. “I just wanted to do something nice for you, after everything you did for us.”
Duncan opened it curiously, finding inside a small sculpture of a man with a sword struck by the maelstrom of the Quickening, represented by chaotic clouds and bolts of silver and blue. Looking closely, he could see a design on the handle of the sword which matched the dragon head on his own Katana. “You made this?”
“There was a photo in the Watcher records of you taking a head, I used it as the basis for the design.”
“Thanks, Maggie, it’s beautiful.” Duncan turned the stained glass over in his hands, watching the light refract through it.
Maggie smiled back at him. “Thank you too.”
End.