The Paris Connection

(Schmoopies in the Moonlight)
Written by: Heidi Zimmermann
Story by: Melissa Keener &
Heidi Zimmermann

Copyright ^© 1996

Introduction

DEDICATED TO THE CAST AND CHARACTERS OF A LITTLE SHOW CALLED HIGHLANDER AND TO ALL THE SCHMOOPIES OUT THERE (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE)

Cast of Characters

       The Regulars
       Duncan MacLeod (of the Clan MacLeod)
       Richie Ryan
       Methos (Adam Pierson)
       Amanda Darieux
       Darius

       The Guest Stars
       Morgana Knightwood - original character
       Reyanna McTaggert - original character
       Connor MacLeod
       Hugh Fitzcairn
       Robert & Gina Valincourt

       The Bad Guys
       Felicia Martins
       Kenny

* * * *

PARIS, WINTER 1996
     The Champs Elysées in winter was beautiful, even with the throngs of cars flowing on it. Morgana Knightwood's car, a silver Mercedes, was working its way through the traffic.  Its driver had just arrived in Paris that morning and had recently finished putting her luggage away in her suite at the George V.  She was staying there until she bought an apartment and found a suitable location for the fencing studio she was planning to open.
     Morgana stopped at a red light and suddenly felt a stomach turning tingle.  To her surprise, she saw a familiar black Citröen stopped beside her.
     "Duncan!?  Is that you?" she called to the other driver through the brisk air, her breath coming out in clouds.
     "Morgan!  What a surprise!"  Duncan MacLeod grinned his trademark "iceberg melting" smile at the pretty, red-haired Immortal.  "What are you doing in Paris?"
     "I'm opening a fencing studio.  Right now, I'm on my way to visit Darius"
     "Fantastic," Duncan shouted back, as the light turned green and the cars behind them began to honk, "How about dinner tonight, there's someone I'd like you to meet"
     "Love to.  Pick me up at Darius' at seven?"
     "It's a date.  See you then!" Duncan pulled away with a wave.

* * * *

     Morgana made her way to the small church that housed the 2,000 year old immortal, Darius.  Morgana herself was 1,600 years old and she and Darius had once been together, before he entered the priesthood.  Now, the two were only good friends and Morgana would visit her old lover whenever she was in Paris.  Darius had once been a great warrior but his outlook on life had changed drastically after he took the Quickening of a holy man.
     As she went through the wrought-iron gates of the church and crossed the flagstones, a handsome Immortal came out through the thick wooden doors.
     The 'buzz' was more powerful than any she had ever felt.  Even though they were on holy ground, she sensed immediately that this man held no danger for her.  
     The stranger held the door open for her and bowed smoothly.  Morgana promptly dropped a regal curtsey with her long, black winter coat.  They parted without a word, exchanging understanding smiles.
     Morgana couldn't help admiring the fine figure he cut and snuck a glance behind her as he passed by.  He had close-cropped brown hair, an English nose, and fine bone structure that extended to a well-built, tall body.
     "I'll have to ask Darius about that one," she thought to herself, as she entered the church.

* * * *

     Methos, or Adam Pierson as he went by these days, stared musingly at the now-closed oak doors almost as if he could see the woman enclosed within the chapel.  She was a lovely creature with light green eyes, creamy skin and dark red locks of hair.  She had high cheekbones and a delicate, straight nose over a lush, cupid's bow mouth.  Her clothes gave evidence that she was a wealthy woman who knew how to spend money well.
     He wondered if she was merely going in for confession or if she had other business with Darius.  Methos turned to go to his car, a black Volvo, when he saw a woman taking pictures of the church from another automobile further down the street.  He frowned and started towards the vehicle; the driver turned on the engine suddenly and roared away.  A fizzle of Quickening went through Methos as the car passed.  His frown changed back into a puzzled expression laced with worry for the mystery woman inside.  Was the photographer after her, and if so, for what reason?  He decided to stay around a little while longer in case trouble should arise.  Methos
walked into the garden behind the church and settled down on a bench to enjoy the late afternoon sunlight.

* * * *

     Morgana made her way through the church to Darius' chamber, and entered as he was replacing the pieces on a wooden chessboard.
     "Anyone home?" she quietly asked.
     "Morgana!  How wonderful to see you!" the ancient, yet young-looking monk said, as he embraced his old companion.
     "You look well, Darius.  It's been too long."  She allowed him to lead her to a chair in front of the chessboard and watched as he, too, sat down.  His homespun habit looked as coarse as ever, but she knew it was soft from years of wear.
     "How have you been? What brings you to my city?" he asked, getting up again to put on a kettle for tea.
     "I'm fine.  I've just returned from Switzerland to see about opening a fencing studio."  She had turned her chair to watch him as he puttered about, getting the tea things together.  Morgana felt a flood of emotion wash over her.  It was the same every time she saw him; she missed him always, but still had twinges of anger over his choice of such a cloistered life.
     "A fencing studio?"  How interesting.  You ought to tell Duncan - he's in town you know, living on the Seine again."
     "I saw him not an hour ago, on the Champs-Elysées.  He's invited me to dinner this evening.  Says he wants me to meet someone"
     Darius frowned thoughtfully.  "It's probably his student, Richard Ryan.  Or, Richie as the boy prefers to be called."  He chuckled as the kettle whistled shrilly.       Darius fell silent as he poured the tea into cups, then asked if Morgana took the drink as she always had - two sugars and a dollop of cream.
     "Yes, thanks."  She accepted the steaming cup from him and sipped at it carefully while he sat down, the candles around the room gleaming in his brown hair.  
     "Who was that I passed on my way in?" she suddenly asked.
     Darius hesitated a second or two before answering.  "That was Adam Pierson.  An old acquaintance."
     "How old?" Morgana pressed skeptically, frowning.
     "The Spanish Inquisition died out centuries ago, my dear," Darius smiled kindly.  "He's an old acquaintance, as I've said already."
     "Secretive today, aren't we?  I'm simply jesting with you darling."
     "Is that all it was?  he returned, from behind a quick sip of tea.
     "You always were a flirt."  Morgana laughed quietly.  It was good to be back in Paris among friends.  Far too much time had passed, even for an Immortal, to be away from old acquaintances.

* * * *

     Morgana stood in the courtyard with Darius as dusk overtook the day.  She had driven back to her hotel to change clothes and leave her car.  It had been no trouble for the concierge to arrange a taxi back to the church.
     Dinner in Paris always required a suitable ensemblé.  Her choice for the evening was a black velvet silhouette dress with long, tight sleeves and a neckline that fell to a deep drape on her back, baring the expanse of white skin to all eyes.  Her hair was pulled up in a thicket of russet curls atop her head, with a few ringlets allowed to dangle about her face.  Around her
neck was a collar-like necklace set with huge cabochon emeralds.  A dark green taffeta wrap hung loosely around her shoulders to ward off the evening chill as she stood conversing with Darius on the snowy flagstones.
     MacLeod turned up promptly at seven o'clock with a passenger in the seat next to him. Richie Ryan had been looking forward to meeting Duncan's friend Morgana and had dressed for the occasion in black slacks, a white shirt and a crimson blazer.  MacLeod had been impressed with the young man's enthusiasm, but he was even more impressed when he saw Morgana's outfit.
     Richie gave a low whistle as the car came to a halt and he took in Morgana's appearance.
     "We didn't just chip you from a glacier, Richie.  Mind your manners,"  Duncan warned as he exited the vehicle.
     "Morgana, you look wonderful," he said, embracing her and kissing her on both cheeks.
     "I'd like you to meet Richie Ryan,"  MacLeod continued, as the young man came up beside him.  "Richie, this is Morgana Knightwood."
     "I've heard others speak highly of you,"  Morgana smiled, shaking his hand.  "It's a pleasure to meet you."
     "Likewise.  So, uh, who's been talking about me?" he asked uncertainly.
     "Amanda Dariuex mentioned you when I saw her last.  Speaking of Amanda, Duncan, did you know she's going to Robert and Gina's party?"
     "No, I didn't.  We can discuss it over dinner, though.  Shall we leave?"  MacLeod said, opening the car door and saying good-bye to Darius.
     "By all means.  I'll see you tomorrow, Darius," Morgana gave him a quick kiss that turned his ears pink before she settled into her seat.
     "Enjoy yourselves!" The priest called, waving as the other two Immortals got in the car.
     "We will," Duncan answered, before driving off.
     Darius turned and shuffled back to the church, a small part of him wishing he was also leaving for a night on the town with Morgana.  He had chosen his life, Darius reminded himself, but he couldn't help the slight envy.

* * * *

     The restaurant Duncan chose was the Mercuré Galánt, an elegant establishment on the Rué des Petits-Champs.  It served traditional French cuisine, something that Richie always had trouble translating into, in his opinion, edible dishes.
     Over the course of the dinner conversation, which was peppered with sudden tales of past exploits between MacLeod and Morgana, the lady brought up the topic of the fencing studio she would be opening.
     "There aren't that many in Paris, if any" she said.
     "Do you want me to go with you tomorrow?" Duncan offered.
     "Absolutely."
     "I have an idea," he said suddenly.  "Why don't you move into the barge?  Richie's been staying with me while his apartment was being fumigated, but he's moving out tonight, so the room's available.  Besides, Amanda will probably be staying with me when she gets in, and you two will no doubt want to catch up"   He poured himself a glass of wine and waited for her answer.
     "Excellent idea.  I'll just keep the hotel suite for my decorator, she - oh, no," Morgana stopped abruptly.
     "Is something the matter?" MacLeod asked, concerned over her wide-eyed expression.
     "The woman I hired to decorate the studio is flying into Paris in the morning and I won't have time to pick her up.  I've just realized that my first appointment is too close to her arrival. Oh, what should I do, it's her first time in Paris, she'll be lost," Morgana fretted.
     "Well, since we'll both be busy," Duncan began, "Richie can pick her up."
     "Wait a minute, Mac -" Richie started, flabbergasted, nearly dropping his fork.
     "Oh, could you?  It would help me out greatly," Morgana said, clasping one of his hands in both of hers.  "She's a lovely girl; I'm sure you'll get along wonderfully."
     "I guess I could," Richie said, looking unsure of the situation.
     "Thank you, Richie, you've saved my life." Morgana smiled.  "I'd better call her and let her know what's happening."
     "Always ready to help a damsel in distress," he replied, wondering what he - no, what Duncan had gotten him into.
     Morgana momentarily left the table to find a phone.
     "Richie can pick up the girl," he mocked quietly, under his breath so Duncan wouldn't hear.  "Richie can do this, Richie can do that.."
     "What are you mumbling about, Richie?" Duncan asked, amused.  Richie's reply was lost as Morgana rejoined her companions.  
     "Well, that's settled," she said happily, "Richie, did Duncan ever tell you about the time I saved his life?"  Duncan rolled his eyes as she began "her" version of the story.

* * * *

     After dinner the threesome went to the hotel to gather Morgana's luggage and then to the barge so Richie could get his bike and bags.
     Morgana and Duncan had just settled down on the couch to enjoy some vintage brandy in front of a toasty fire when a knock sounded at the door.
     "Richie, what happened?" MacLeod asked, finding the youth waiting outside the portal. Richie had his bags with him and wore a "lost puppy" expression on his face.
     "The apartment's still closed off, so I have no place else to go," he admitted.  "Can I crash here?"
     "There's the couch or the bathtub."
     "Duncan," Morgana said, coming up behind him.  "He can have my half of the hotel suite. Reyanna, my decorator won't mind sharing."
     "Gee, Mac, bathtub or a five-star hotel," Richie teased.  "Hmm, which to choose?"
     "I think he means yes," Duncan said to Morgana.
     "I mean yes!  And thanks. Oh, and can I borrow your car to pick up your guest tomorrow," Richie asked.  "I don't think she'll go for being picked up on a motorcycle, especially in this weather."
     "Can he be trusted?" she inquired of the tall Scot, pursing her lips and looking at Richie suspiciously.
     "If he can't, you could always take his head."
     "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mac!" Richie frowned, wondering just how serious they were.
     "Just warning her!"
     "Of course you can use my car, Richie, we're just teasing you.  If someone has Duncan's confidence, as you obviously do, they have mine as well.  I've never met a better judge of character.  Well, there was that time in Spain, when Duncan thought that the serving girl was-"
     "If you want to get any sleep tonight, we should leave now," Duncan interrupted, before
Richie could get too much incriminating information.
     Morgana just grinned and said "Remind me to finish the story another time Richie.  Lead on MacLeod."
     They headed outside to the vehicles and decided that Richie and Morgana would drive their respective transports to the hotel, leave them there, and Duncan would drive the female Immortal back to the barge in his car.
     Finally, everyone settled into their beds about an hour later.  
     Richie made use of room service and the mini-bar before curling up in the larger of the two bedrooms.  'Never look a gift horse in the mouth,' he told himself, looking around the extravagantly decorated rooms.

* * * *

     Airplanes screamed around the Charles de Gaulle airport as Richie waited in the terminal the next day.  He had gotten the flight information the night before and arranged for a wake up call at the ungodly hour of eight in the morning.  As he waited to meet Reyanna McTaggert, Richie slumped in an uncomfortable plastic chair, yawning ever so often.  
     A tingling jolt passed through him as one of the stewardesses, who had been eyeing him appreciatively for the past thirty minutes, opened the double doors to the gangway of an arriving plane.  As he got up warily from his seat, a blond-haired woman strode quickly into the waiting area.
     "Richie Ryan!" she said, stepping over to him and planting a lush kiss on his surprised mouth.
     "How is my lionheart?" Amanda asked, moving away to give him some air and taking his arm, "It was so sweet of Duncan to send you to meet me."
     "Actually, I'm here to-"
     "Are you Richie Ryan?" broke in a new voice.
     Amanda and Richie turned to see a young woman looking at them hesitantly.
     Richie felt his heart stop for a moment as he looked at her.  She had luxurious red-gold hair that fell over the shoulders of a brown wool trench coat.  Even in boots with large heels, the top of her head only met his nose.  As he continued to stare at the newcomer, Richie decided he'd never seen eyes just that shade of amber and brown or a mouth quite so -- 
     "Depends on who's asking," Richie said finally, remembering where he was and disentangling himself from Amanda's embrace.
     "I'm Reyanna McTaggert."  She extended a hand in greeting.
     "Nice to meet you," Richie answered, shaking the proffered hand and flashing his kilowatt smile.
     "I saw you on the plane," Amanda spoke up. "I'm Amanda Dariuex.  A friend of Richie's"
     "I noticed."  Reyanna smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.  She had noticed the curly-haired youth as she came through the arrival doors and thought he was quite good-looking.  Her sudden spark of interest was squelched when the thin blond had kissed him rather thoroughly. "We ought to get our bags, Miss Dariuex."
     "Call me Amanda."  She linked arms with the younger woman and led her in the direction of the baggage claim, leaving Richie to trail behind them.
     After forty-five minutes of fighting their way through baggage and customs, they got into the Mercedes and headed into town.  Plans called for a quick brunch before meeting MacLeod and Morgana.  
     Getting away from the airport was much easier said than done.  Traffic was fairly thick,
but that had never stopped Richie before.
     "Have you ever thought of taking up a career in racing, Mr. Ryan?" Reyanna asked from where she sat, pressed into the seat next to him, holding on to the door rail and the upper handrail for dear life.
     Richie laughed and maneuvered around another car.
     "Yes, I have.  And I do.  I race motor bikes for Team Saracen here in Paris.  By the way, call me Richie - Ai!!!" he shouted abruptly at another driver who had the audacity to cut him off.  Richie yelled such a wicked-sounding string of French at the other driver that Reyanna blushed to the roots of her hair.
     "Richie, some of us want to arrive there in one piece," Amanda admonished, leaning forward to tap him on the shoulder.  "Besides, our guest probably wants to see Paris as more than a speeding blur.  That is the reason you asked her to sit up front."
     "She can see Paris as soon as I get to a clearer patch of road so it won't be a car blocking her view or a speeding blur, Amanda," he retorted.
     "Really Richie, it's fine.  I'll have plenty of time to see Paris," Reyanna spoke up softly, feeling as if she should get out of the car and let these two battle it out on their own.
     "I hope you'll let me show you around," Richie said in response, smiling his lady-killer smile as he glanced her way.
     Reyanna looked at him, shocked that he would so blatantly ask her out in front of his girlfriend.  "I- I'll have to check my schedule with Morgana," she faltered and stared hastily out the window.
     She had turned him down.  Richie couldn't believe it.  Where had he gone wrong?
     Amanda squeezed his shoulder sympathetically and settled back in her seat as silence descended over the car.

* * * *

     Morgana was awakened by the rich smell of fresh coffee wafting through the barge.
     "Good morning," MacLeod called, walking in with a tray of food, "did you sleep well?"
     "Yes, actually." She sat up as Duncan set the tray across her lap and looked approvingly at the cereal, toast, juice and sliced bananas.  "You are so sweet," she said, glancing up at him.
     "Eat your breakfast and we'll get going," he replied, leaving to let her wake up more fully. It wasn't said unkindly, he just knew that it took her awhile to become "human" in the morning.
     "So, how do you think Richie is getting along?" Morgana asked an hour later, as they drove away from the barge.
     "You've asked him to pick up a beautiful young woman and spent the morning alone with her.  I think he's getting along just fine," MacLeod answered, thinking back to a few of Richie's previous relationships.
     They arrived at the first possible location for the fencing studio, where a realtor already waited.  Morgana and Duncan quickly realized that finding the perfect studio was not going to be easy.  It took at least twelve different walk-throughs before Morgana found the one she wanted.   The realtor assured them that the paperwork would be ready the next day.
     "It's perfect," Morgana said over lunch at Chéz Paul's on the Ile de la Cité.  "I want Reyanna to look at it before I sign anything, though."
     "You certainly put a lot of trust in her opinion," MacLeod observed.
     "Absolutely.  She knows what she's doing with design -every one of the businesses she's decorated has received raved reviews.  Surprising since she's so young."
     "How old is she?" Duncan asked, eating his salad.
     "Twenty-one.  She graduated with an Art Degree from DePaul last year and had been snatched up almost immediately by a very prestigious firm.  I only managed to hire her away from them because I've known her since she was a teenager.
     "I can't wait to meet her."
     "You'll like her." Morgana glanced down at her watch.  "We should leave soon.  They're probably already at the barge."

* * * *

     "A barge on the Seine.  How different," Reyanna sighed, standing with Amanda on the top deck and looking at the Notré Dame de Paris.  A chilling wind coming off the river tugged at their coats and Reyanna's hair.  Richie was below decks trying to find a place for all of Amanda's cases.
     "But a refreshing different, don't you think?" Amanda asked her.
     "Quite.  This is my first trip to Paris, you know."  She stepped up to the arched deck and sat down on the port-side bench.
     "I've been here countless times.  It gets more beautiful every time I see it."  Amanda joined her on the bench.  "So, when are you and Richie going to see the city?"
     "Oh, I don't think I'm going to have a chance to," she said hastily.  "I have to go look at the fencing studio and make sketches, and..."
     "You're staying in the City of Lights, a handsome young man waits at your beck and call, and you want to curl-up with your sketch book?"
     Reyanna stood up "Ms. Dariuex, you seem like a very intelligent woman, so I'm sure you understand me when I tell you that letting your man cheat on you is one thing, but encouraging it is another.  Excuse me."  She walked away and off the barge just as Richie came above decks and Duncan drove up.
     Morgana jumped out of the car.  "Anna!" she called after the young girl quickly retreating down the river walkway.  She chased after her at a ladylike, but swift, pace.
     "Richie, what happened?" MacLeod demanded immediately, walking up the gangplank.
     "Why is it always my fault?  I haven't talked to her since we got here," he defended himself.
     "I can explain," said Amanda, "I asked her when she was going to take Richie up on his offer of a city tour and she said that she can't believe I would encourage 'my man' to cheat on me."
     "And we started dating when?" Richie asked.
     "She must have seen me give you a little kiss at the airport.  I think you ought to explain to her what happened, Richie," Amanda advised.
     He nodded and went after the other two women.
     "Did you have fun today?" Amanda purred, walking over the Duncan and giving him a more than a 'little' kiss.
     "I didn't know you were getting in today," he answered, "And yes, I did have fun."
     "I arrived this morning on the same flight as Reyanna and Richie was kind enough to drive me here."  Amanda looked over to where the young immortal was conversing with Reyanna. "I hope those two work it out.  She would be good for him, I think."
     Morgana tactfully headed back to the barge when she realized the direction Richie and Reyanna's conversation was headed.
     "I'm really sorry you got the wrong impression," Richie was saying.  "I can see why you did, though," he added carefully, "Amanda's always been very, umm, affectionate."
     "Well, I always did jump to conclusions," Reyanna admitted.
     "So, you'll let me show you around?," Richie asked, feeling like a high school kid.
     "I'd like that."
     They starting walking back and caught up with Morgana just as she boarded the boat.
     "Reyanna, I'd like you to meet Duncan MacLeod," she said, pulling the girl forward to shake hands.  "Duncan, this is the young lady I've been telling you about."
     "I've heard alot about you, Mr. MacLeod.  It's an honor." Reyanna said as they clasped hands.
     "The honor is mine," he replied gallantly, kissing her knuckles.
     Reyanna had the oddest urge to curtsey, but shook it off.  "A gentleman.  A rare and valuable commodity these days."
     "We are a dying breed," MacLeod agreed, leading the group inside.
     "Love the hair," Morgana laughed, embracing Amanda as they followed their host through the door.  "It's good to see you again."
     "It's good to see you too.  You know, I'm always surprised when this many of us get together in one place peacefully," Amanda returned.  "And we won't even be on holy ground," she remarked, when Reyanna was out of earshot."
     "Well, we never could resist a good party," came the answer, "And Robert and Gina seem to do enough fighting for all of us."
     They linked arms like the old friends they were and went below.

* * * *

     "Morgan, how did the studio hunting go?" Reyanna asked later from where she sat on the couch with Richie.
     "Fantastic.  I think I've found one," came the reply from the nearby immortal, "I can sign the papers tomorrow, but I want you to look at it first."
     "Not before I get some rest, hopefully.  Would anyone be offended if we went to the hotel?" she inquired, looking over at Morgana.
     "I was thinking about heading back, anyway," Richie said, "I need to speak to the maids about more towels."
     "Why do you care about tow-- Morgan, why does he care about towels?" Reyanna asked suspiciously.
     "Because half of those towels are his.  We changed sleeping arrangements at the last minute," she answered sheepishly.
     "I gathered that.  So, what are the arrangements, exactly?"
     "You and Richie are in the hotel suite, and Amanda, Duncan and I are here.  We have a lot of catching up to do."
     Reyanna glanced over to see her new roommate stifle a grin and sighed, "C'est la vie..."
     "That's the spirit, Anna."  Morgana said.  "Richie, if you wouldn't mind returning to the hotel?"
     "Not at all.  Your car awaits, mademoiselle."  He stood, bowed from the waist and directed Reyanna to the door.
     "You owe me," Reyanna mouthed silently to Morgana before she was ushered out.
     "They'll have fun," Morgana said, mostly to herself. She looked mischievously at her companions for the evening and said "Bring out the gimp!"

* * * *

     Out of 'buzz' range, the two evil immortals watched the Mercedes speed off.  
     "The game's afoot," Felicia smiled.
     "Let's play," Kenny replied, with an answering grin.

TO BE CONTINUED. . . .