Pick a fic Guin's Highlands Home Fanfic Home Fighting Monsters (new) The Connor Continuum Thicker Than Water The First Time Bad Dreams Words On Connor & Duncan Connor's Birthday Tribute Reunion In Sickness & In Health Fatherhood Grief The Quackening Reflections on a Life A Few Thoughts on Connor Connor's Thought Processes Sanctuary Youth Is Contagious Christmas Wish Little Surprises Connor, This Is Your Life! Mind Your Ps and Qs The Letter Cityscape

Disclaimer: The characters of Connor & Duncan MacLeod et al and the Highlander premise belong to Davis/Panzer Productions. I have only borrowed them for a time, and hopefully return them none the worse for wear.

You never met me, Connor MacLeod, nor I you. And, I am sad to say, that is a great tragedy for me -- for you are gone now into the great oblivion, and I will never get the chance.

I knew of you, of course. What Watcher doesn't? After all, defeating the Kurgan was no small feat. And when they pulled me aside and discretely make you my temporary assignment when Sanctuary was annihilated -- my old friend Joe was instrumental in that -- I got a brief history of your life. We're not supposed to get involved with our assignments, not get sucked into their worlds. Like Joe, I've found that nigh unto impossible. But as I was only temporarily assigned to you, I promised that I would keep that vow for once. That only lasted until I read your profile.

Reading about your more recent tragedies tugged at my heart. First Brenda's death, then Rachel's just a few years later, leading you to seek out Sanctuary. Adam Pierson's report on your debriefing before entering Sanctuary was very detailed, and I could truly feel for you, that sorrow in losing your loved ones.

I met up with Joe outside the graveyard so I could follow you from there -- he and Adam had kept tabs on you up until then. I think you probably caught sight of me behind you on that long ride back to the city -- that's why you skirted around the city a bit, trying to lose me. But I managed to follow you back to your old loft apartment, and even successfully followed you up there...I thought I'd managed to be really quiet, though you might have heard me and just not cared. Moonlight was all we had to go by anyway, besides a few remnants of streetlight straining in between the planks covering what must have once been a magnificent bank of windows. Once I was up there, it was pretty easy to hide in the shadows.

You made straight for that rotunda room at the back, reverently pushing open the wide double doors. The moon shone through the room's skylight, leaving the whole scene in black-and-white shadows, like a dream. The way you touched each item in the room so lovingly, I thought that must have been your favorite place. I watched you run your finger tenderly down the frame of a painting on the wall -- I could only guess that it was a portrait of a loved one. You sat down at the far side of the circular room and closed your eyes, appearing sedately lost in thought. You sat there so long that my legs were turning numb from kneeling in one place. Then you stood up with such resolution that I knew you must have come to some sort of a decision, and I was eager to follow and find out.

Joe was already keeping an eye on the goings-on in Duncan's apartment when I arrived. I'd watched you mill around at the coffee shop a couple of doors down, working up your nerve. Pity I didn't know what for...though I couldn't have stopped you. Observe, record, never interfere. How I wish I had known enough to break that oath!

Together Joe and I watched you and Duncan up on the roof. At first we thought you two were just playing around with the fighting, but it soon became clear that at least one of you was deadly sincere. Having seen you at the loft, it suddenly clicked into place what you were about to do...fitting with what I'd read of you, for the kind of self-sacrificing man that you are....were...though even now I don't agree with your choice.

You forcing Duncan to behead you wrenched my heart, and I could tell by Joe's expression that he was affected much the same way. I grabbed Joe's arm, and the whole core of my soul went cold as we watched the Quickening. Later, Duncan recounted to Joe what you'd said, and Joe passed it on to me in e-mail. I have it stored away with the rest of the official Watcher records of your life, as well as a print-out for myself, to remind me of the honorable man you were.

I didn't let Joe see me cry that night. Actually, it took some time for me to digest the reality of the situation. When I got home, all I could do was pace. I was restless, agitated, I needed out. So I got in my car and drove all over town. Finally I stopped at the loft. Yeah, it's not a good area for a woman to be by herself these days, but I didn't care. I sat down in that room of yours, I looked at all the pieces of your life, of the portrait I could finally guess at probably being Heather, pictures of Duncan, of Rachel, and of you. I took one of the pictures of you and Rachel from a shelf and stared at it for a long time. Finally the tears came....slowly at first, just a few, then a few more, until I uttered a sob and finally let the pain flow from me. No, Watchers aren't supposed to become attached, but there was so much about your loneliness that touched me. I had wanted so much to say something, do something, while watching you in the loft...I should have guessed what you were considering. And I wish I had done something. I wish I'd stepped forward and met you, at least. Whether my words or actions would have changed your mind or not, I don't know -- probably not. But at least I wouldn't feel the guilt I feel at having done nothing but watch you march yourself to your death.

I know it was wrong of me, but I took the picture of you and Rachel. Forgive me, Connor, but after just a few days, I feel like I was really coming to know you, though we never met. Now I sit here at home staring at the picture, wondering what it was in you that brought you to such a decision, thinking about how much pain you must have been in to put Duncan -- one of your dearest friends -- through all that. As much as I can rationalize what you did, even comprehend the act to some degree, emotionally I still don't understand it. I probably never will, having not really known you and having never been in your shoes -- not even close. I suppose the least I can do is respect that it was your decision to make, as much as I disagree with it.

I've been asking Joe a lot of questions about you, and I think I've exhausted his knowledge. He's set up a lunch meeting for me with Duncan so I can satisfy my curiosity. I'm dreading it, of sorts -- wondering what this man will think of my perhaps inappropriate/morbid desire for information. But I'm looking forward to it as well, if only to get to know the man I had, if only for a brief moment in time, come to feel for. You are sorely missed, Highlander. But you live on in our hearts. Rest in peace.

Susan