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.Duel	By : keithcompany Category: G through L > Highlander Views: 1431 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Highlander, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
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Dinner was silent that night. They watched TV in different rooms and slept apart. Eve curled up on the sofa with a washcloth.
In the morning, she went to see if Destiny had reached any conclusions during the night. The secret door twisted open and she walked through.
Destiny's bed was unmade and empty. Eve jumped up as high as she could, but didn't see Malificent. Wherever she'd gone, Destiny too her dragon.
"Dammit!" she shouted. She turned and ran back the way she came.
Behind her, a black tail just barely poked out from under the rumpled covers.
Kane rose. He had thought long into the night, and remained convinced that he had done nothing as wrong as the other two had judged. He had also determined that he preferred life when his roommates were speaking to him.
Even if he never slept with Destiny again, he couldn't handle not hearing her laugh at one of his ancient jokes or Bronze Age anecdotes.
He was going to swallow his pride and apologize. To both of them. As soon as he saw-
He barely glimpsed the light flashing off the bow's metal form. His hand thrust up immediately.
"YOU MADE DESTINY LEAVE!" Eve shouted. He lost control of his arm from the elbow down. From experience, he knew he'd get it back soon. For now, it dropped and hung, limp. He lifted the upper arm, trying to use the dead weight as a shield.
He felt another shaft strike him in the forearm as he shoved himself in Eve's direction. She skipped back towards the linen closet.
Kane grabbed the door on the way down and swung it shut. She almost made it through, but the door caught the bow, driving it into the jam like a small, curved nail.
Eve didn't bother to try to yank it free, she ducked behind the vacuum cleaner. Kane slammed the door hard, pounding the bow in too firmly for her to remove.
She came out as he opened the door once more, charging forward with a poisoned arrow in each hand. He swept his disabled hand across the floor, slapping her towards the stairs.
Eve managed to stab one shaft into his wrist, the other fell as she impacted the railing. He watched her flip backwards over the edge and fall down the stairwell.
"I'm sorry," he growled. He opened the hidden panel to grab his Number 3 Rapier.
There was a springy twang and a dagger tried to cut off his hand. It might have worked if he'd had the use of his right hand, but the dagger missed. He grabbed the weapon with his off hand and jumped over the rail.
Eve had fallen down the center of the staircase, all the way to the living room level. Right now he wouldn't have cared about what a fight would do to his filing system. He charged down, arriving just as she ducked under the sofa.
Rather than duck down to look he ran across the floor and leaped up, kicking the couch over onto its back.
Eve had found a halberd secreted under the springs but hadn't managed to release it when he did this. She was tugging on it when it swung up into the air. She was tugged up into the air and flipped, end over end.
She saw Kane's back go by once and his smile a second time.
"DESTINY!" she shouted, a new battle cry.
"Sorry!" he quipped jauntily, swinging the flat of his blade against her. She felt her pelvis crack, then she sailed through the air. There was a smack as she hit the wall.
She hit with enough pressure to bounce back a little bit, falling down into an urn placed between the window bays.
She couldn't help moaning as she lay there, healing in the porcelain.
Kane was impressed. The echo effect of the urn made it sound as if she'd gotten into the ventilation. He wouldn't have thought she could move that well that quickly.
He bent down and started to shove his sword through the grate.
But then he paused. If she was in there, she'd have had to prepare the grate. And if she'd gotten through the grate, she'd surely have secreted a weapon or two in there. He pulled back a bit.
-------------
Eve heard him creeping around the living room, trying to find her. She couldn't understand why he didn't look down in the urn. Unless he was expecting her to shoot him in the eye?
That would have been good, if she'd planned far enough ahead to have a weapon here. She felt a familiar pressure in her groin and gently worked her thigh. The socket popped back into place with a soft, wet snap.
She bit her cheeks hard enough to draw blood for a second or two. Then she rose and tried to figure out where he was.
He was either very still in this room, or quiet in the kitchen. There was a metallic clink as he moved something around, still looking for her.
She hopped up instantly and ran to the stairwell. She hadn't armed the urn, but there was something she'd been working on.
Kane heard movement in the living room and lowered the toaster. He knew she was out there, but she wouldn't come out until he announced his presence in the kitchen.
He crept back out, sword in one hand, main gauche in the other. He felt a LITTLE silly with a defensive knife. It wasn't like she had a sword long enough for him to even be able to parry it.
Still, something made him take it from under the banister and he'd long ago stopped questioning his intuition.
There might have been movement in the curtains at the French doors to the courtyard. "Sorry," he said with a wicked smile. And he stepped forward.
There was a slithering sound and he froze. He finally located it. Some dental floss was slithering up the stairwell. It was strung in the empty space between flights, and it ran up and up and up...
Finally a small silver cup was lifted by the floss. He took a cautious step back. If he'd ever watched Saturday morning cartoons, or played Mousetrap, he'd have moved farther back.
He thought the cup was a counterweight and waited for it to come back down. Instead, the floss tried to drag it through the banister, between uprights.
When it wouldn't fit, it resisted the pull. Whatever motor was winding up the floss made a mechanical protest. He thought it might be the ceiling fan in the bathroom upstairs.
There was a sudden thud and a crash. The only thing on that floor big enough to crash like that was an Olmec sculpture. It must have gone through the glass door to the balcony.
"What?" he asked. "Was I supposed to be out in the courtyard by now, crushed under the granite?" He shrugged and stayed where he was. "Sorry!" he chuckled.
It wasn't just falling. He heard rope scraping across the balcony up above.
Then the clothes line popped up from various places in the living room carpeting and snapped into place around him. A loop circled his arms, another one his ankles. That one retracted the fastest, yanking him up in to the air by his feet.
He yelled in surprise as he was upended and lifted. The sword dropped from his hand, though the longdagger was still in his grip. It was inside the loop of line, flat against his chest.
He stopped going up when his head was just below the second floor.
"Gotcha," Eve said. She was leaning over the bottom bar of the railing. About nine inches from his throat. Something sharp glinted in her hand, just visible if he looked past his chin.
"Sorry," he said, as sincere as he'd ever apologized.
She played out the shiny thing. It was piano wire. He began trying to turn the main gauche. His angle was bad and his wrist already fully extended. He didn't pause.
The wire was secured to a weight. Something black he couldn't identify. She started to swing it from side to side. He bucked and heaved, trying to get himself swinging.
"You don't want to do this," he said. The blade started to cut into his chest. He hoped that meant it was also cutting into the line that bound him.
"Oh, I WANT to do this," she said. At the top of the next swing, she tried to spin it out and around his head. She missed. Undeterred, she started it swinging again.
"No, Eve, you don't want to. It's a point-of-no-return thing." He felt blood dripping onto his chin. No pause.
"I want this like I want little else on the planet," she said cheerfully. "To be the Immortal that killed Kane. To get my power back. To get my LIFE back."
"To get Destiny back?" he asked.
"Yep," she agreed. She swung the weight again. It made it around his throat but she didn't quite catch the weight. "No matter," she muttered. More swinging.
"This isn't in the rules!" he tried. The blade was rubbing against his ribs. What the fuck was the cord she'd used?
"Rules, schmules. I'm just a little bitch, right?"
"Sometimes," he snapped. "But you knew that. You made it your own, you made it work!"
He saw it. She made the perfect swing. The timing was perfect, he had to admit. He even admired her aim. She whipped the weight around and caught it like in a dream.
He swung and wiggled, but didn't change anything. The weight had a hook. She closed that around the other part of wire and started to pull in the slack.
The wire tightened against his skin. The weight settled against his trachea. He couldn't breathe. As usual, that only prevented speaking. He still cut, sawing away at chest and cord.
Well, he thought, it wasn't helping anyway.
Eve climbed up the railing, taking the wire over the top, then jumped down and walked away, always keeping tension on the wire. Something was going to tighten it up. Either another motor to spool it up or another weight to drop.
The way it rested on his throat, it would cut from the back, through his spin towards the front. He had mere moments to cut through the two cords restraining him and the wired around him.
Somewhere a motor started. He couldn’t think what it might be. Not on this level.
Then there was a snap and he had control of his arms again. He instantly reached for his throat, a thumb under the loop and loosening. He reached up and sliced recklessly at his ankles. They'd grow back. The throat wouldn't.
Then he was falling.... Headfirst towards the floor, with the wire still in place. He didn't have time to think out the words, but he did clearly understand that he'd fucked up for the very last time.
The wire snapped taut as he passed the landing. He bounced in the air, his feet swinging down towards the floor. The wire cut into the sides of his neck and halfway through his thumb.
Then it went slack again. "DAMMIT!" Eve shouted somewhere above. There was a horrendous clattering sound.
And he landed on the floor. His knees automatically flexed to take his weight. It hurt, but he remained standing. He couldn't speak or even gasp, but he was standing.
He glanced up to see if she was watching.
And the six-foot fan from his office crashed down into his face.
Eve ran to the stairwell to see the results. Smashed bits of floor fan spread across the floor. One blade had cut a deep groove out of one cheek and one of the four feet was wedged firmly into his crotch.
"Oh," she sighed. "He gon' be MAAAAD when he wakes up."
--------
He was lifting a mace by the time she made it back to the living room.
Immortals almost never used maces. The blunt instrument was for crushing, not slicing. Although Kane had admitted that he once bludgeoned an Immortal's throat to paste, he said he only kept the weapon around for anger management.
"Sometimes," he had told his student, "a man's just gotta smash the shit out of something."
Eve squealed and ran for her weapons cache. She ducked under the coffee table, which burst to splinters behind her.
At the last second, she jinked towards the kitchen. The mace whipped by, fanning the air through her hair.
Chips of the wooden floor hit the backs of her thighs as she ran.
She ducked, she rolled, jumped, bounced, leaped and somersaulted around the ground floor, desperately avoiding the metal doom-stick.
Kane grew less and less coherent in his rage. She wasn't sure if the destruction was angering him or that he kept missing her. She didn't pause to ask.
She wanted out, but she wasn't fast enough on stairs going up; the door to the basement was closed; the kitchen floor was littered with shattered plates and bowls, what furniture was still standing wasn't big enough to hide under.
She skidded around the corner to find herself facing the front door. There was a shadow across the curtains. Destiny's hand rose to knock.
"Why is she knocking?" Eve asked.
"Huh?" Kane grunted. He slid over the floor, mace raised, and caught up against the closet door. As they watched, a second shadow stepped up beside her.
"Wayne," Kane said, recognizing the outline.
"My Wayne?" Eve asked. "Curare survivor Wayne?"
"Yeah," Kane said in a wondering tone. The two looked around the room. "Hide," they said at the same time.
Destiny knocked again. She shouted through the door. "I forgot my keys!"
Kane tapped a panel that sprung open. "Watchout!" Eve shouted. He stepped back just as air puffed and a dart arced across the room, landing and sticking into the floor.
He lifted out the short sword hidden inside. Eve stepped up into the cavity and he shut the door.
He opened the door and stepped back. "Destiny, you're home!" He glanced over her shoulder. "Wayne, right?"
"Right, yes," the man said.
"Well, come in, come in," Kane said. He moved towards the center of the living room, brushing half of the sofa aside with his leg. There were two chairs still standing...mostly.
He went past them to sit on the fireplace hearth. A whetstone was there and he started sharpening the weapon in his hand. The mace, he leaned against his leg.
Destiny and Wayne picked their way through the destruction. She shook one chair, nodded her head and invited Wayne to sit.
She shook the other one, shrugged, and sat beside Kane.
"Maid's day off?" Wayne said in a joking tone. Destiny and Kane both looked at him with a confused expression.
"Um... " He started to wave, indicating the room. The torn cushions, the torn-down curtains. The cracked plaster, the shattered urn, the smashed fan. Broken lights, flickering lamps and a teapot spread out to cover a square meter of floor. His hand went in smaller and smaller circles, then rested on his lap.
The other two shrugged and looked at each other. "Lincoln," she said. "Wayne has made me an interesting offer."
------
Destiny rose and sat on the edge of her bed. She had come to no conclusions about where she sat with Lincoln and Eve. She loved Eve, but she wasn't sure if her presence was helping the little death doll or not.
And she had fun around Lincoln, but was that enough? Maleficent didn't know but was confident Destiny would work it out. She stood and made a half-assed attempt to make the bed.
Maybe a run would clear her mind. She dressed quickly and snuck out. She walked to a park to start stretching, then started jogging.
Five blocks into her run, she hadn't experienced a satori, but she was feeling better. The sun was out, people were enjoying the morning, traffic was... Well, no worse than Boston usually got.
And a van screeched to a stop at the curb beside her.
"Oh, not again," she muttered, turning to see if there was a store she could duck into, witnesses to slow the kidnappers down.
"Destiny, wait!" a familiar voice called. Familiar? She turned to see Wayne stepping to the sidewalk. He was dressed in gym clothes and stopped to tie his running shoes. The van edged back into traffic. No mean feat on Broadway during daylight.
"You look lots better!" she said as he stood.
"Can I run with you?" he asked. She glanced at the back of the retreating van. "We're, uh... We're trying something different," Wayne explained. "Candor."
"You realize I can't promise reciprocity," she said. "Not all the secrets I know are mine to share."
"Oh, yeah. We aren't demanding candor. We're just offering it."
She looked him over for a while, then started running in place. "Can you keep up?"
"If not," he said, "I'll remind you I was recently exposed to curare." She smiled and started off. Slowly. He passed her and she grinned as she caught up.
About the time Kane was being introduced to the legacy of Rube Goldberg, they were having lunch cart food at a park bench.
"Candor," she said, a command to start talking.
"The Watchers noted that you left Kane at the zoo," he said immediately. "The brain trust felt that this was a fight between you two, and we might be able to 'turn' you, to make you an informant."
"Ha!" she laughed.
"But, the local office, that's me, said that we'd be better off just asking you questions."
"That's insightful."
"I thought so. I, uh... I really enjoyed that flight. Talking to living history... That's why I became a Watcher. You're LIVING with it. Thousands of years of knowledge and experience."
"And chauvinism and a tendency to steal the covers," she said. He blushed. She thought it was cute.
"Well, we wanted to know... Would you like to be a Watcher?"
She took another spoonful of her yogurt and looked at him. "That flight... How accurate was the report you handed in? Did you say he knew who and what you were?"
"Yes," he said easily.
"Because you guys take an oath to reveal everything you know to the Archives," she said. It wasn't a question. He looked surprised.
"Um...yeah."
"So I'd be expected to reveal the things I just told you I couldn't reveal." She smiled at his apparent discomfort. Then he took a deep breath and relaxed.
"Yes. If you did take the oath, that's what we'd expect."
"Let me think about it," she said in a cold tone. Then she brightened. "So. Is there a Mrs. Watcher?"
"No," he said with a smile. "There is no wife. And no, there is no husband, since this is the twenty first century. And yes, I do find you attractive. And yes, I'd be interested if your relationship with Kane didn't scare the living shit out of me."
She smiled. Wide, but not openly, a woman with a secret. "Well. Maybe you shouldn't be scared."
-----------
Now she righted a lamp and brushed plaster off of her running pants. "Wayne has offered to make me an un-fettered Watcher."
"Wayne said unfettered?" Lincoln asked.
"He said we could skip the oath, or maybe customize one. I go to France, and the Archive, for the full tour and the training.
"But after that, I only tell them your location. And everything I know about any other Immortals you meet." His eyes widened, but they did not flicker towards Eve's hiding place.
"I made it clear, I would not promise to tell everything about any Immortals I live with."
"Plural?" Wayne asked, surprised.
"Well, if he should meet one, and fall in love, I wouldn't want them to worry about how I'd treat her secrets."
"Or his," Lincoln said. "It is the....something or other century, now."
"Yeah, right," Destiny laughed. The men smiled a moment after.
"Well, I'd like to think about how close I'll let a demi-Watcher into my life," Lincoln said slowly.
"Oh, sure!" Wayne jumped to his feet. The chair tipped over behind him, two legs falling off. He spun, then looked unsure what to do next. Lincoln and Destiny stood more slowly, apparently ignoring the destruction. "Take, uh, take all the time you need. Talk it out.
"Destiny has my number. She can... Call me. At that number." He started edging towards the door. His foot brushed something and he glanced down. Half a battle axe rested against his shoe. He stepped over it gingerly.
"I'll be in touch, one way or another," Destiny said.
"What does that mean?" Lincoln asked.
"It means I want to see him again."
"Him?" Lincoln asked, his voice low. Wayne let out a surprised gleep and moved quickly to the door. He was gone in moments.
The two's eyes met in a moment of shared jocularity from the teasing. They both laughed.
Then Destiny knelt to pick up a shred of fabric. Lincoln recognized it as the covering from the stairs up to the bedroom. He didn't remember the fight reaching that flight...
She raised one eyebrow.
"Remember when you asked why you were in the woods with us? And it was to keep us from killing each other?"
"Where is she?"
Lincoln looked around. Watchers and unfettered observers crowded his brain. And getting estimates for the repairs.
And getting that damned Olmec back up to its stand...
"Oh!" He opened the panel and Eve's limp body slid out, falling to the floor.
"EEK! You've KILLED HER!" Destiny cried.
"Oh, I did not!" he protested. The silly woman lifted the unmoving form in her arms. "She probably poked herself with one of her damned arrows!"
Destiny stumbled through the wreckage towards her condo. "She'll be FINE!" he growled. The secret panel slid shut behind her. "Sorry," he muttered to the empty house.
-----------
Dinner was silent once more. Destiny ate the stir fry Lincoln offered, eyes mostly on her plate. The other two watched her. Was she going to leave them?
Lincoln had told Eve that the Watchers tended to recruit from people who'd already met Immortals. It made it easier to train, since they'd already been convinced Immortals existed.
Would Destiny be content to give them some info, or would her loyalties shift?
Then...what would they do to each other without her?
Destiny snorted. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw both her roommates flinch, then stare. She looked up. "I kinda flirted with Wayne at lunch."
Eve's eyes widened in surprise. Lincoln's dropped to slits.
"What... What did he say?" Eve asked.
"He finds me interesting, but the idea that 'The Ancient One' would get jealous makes him piss his pants." She speared another morsel of meat and ate it. "I told him I found self preservation charming."
Lincoln lost it. Just...something about her tone, or her presentation, or the idea of some organization tracking his entire life, but thinking it was possible he'd kill over envy... He laughed. He laughed hard and long, from the bottom of his belly.
It wasn't that funny, but all the tension of the past few days burst out of him in a long, paralyzing guffaw. He even slipped out of his chair to laugh on the floor.
Destiny continued eating. Eve walked across the table to watch the ROFL. It was a good ten minutes before he regained control over his breathing. He wiped a tear and started to sit up.
"I have never seen anyone laugh broccoli out of their nose," Eve said over him.
"Eugh!" Destiny snapped. He lost it again. "Honestly," Destiny said. "Some people will do anything to get out of doing the dishes." She gathered plates and cups.
----------
"You can't reveal Eve's existence," Lincoln said.
"YOU can't assume I'm dumber than a bag of hammers!" Destiny retorted. "I KNOW Eve's secrets are double-secret."
"I just want that written down on the list," Lincoln insisted. He tapped the legal paper on Destiny's clipboard.
Boundaries For Immortal Reporting, it was titled.
Number 1 was Kane's Sex Life. Destiny had agreed, then promptly cut him off. "I need to be able to tell Wayne I'm able to..."
"Date," Eve suggested. She lay on the edge of the desk, tossing a ping-pong ball up and catching it on her fingertips.
She knew only one secret that was hers to share and that was too obvious to be listed.
Lincoln did look disappointed at the idea of an end to casual sex, but he nodded gracefully. "You are your own woman, Destiny. If you want to sleep with Wayne, I will endeavor not to take it personally."
"Gracious," she said. She edited 'current sex life.'
"Hey!"
"Oh, nothing from the last fifty years," she promised. "But you have spoken lovingly about certain historical figures you've....known. They're interested in that stuff."
"You can't tell them what I like," he said.
"Which I know only because of sex within the last fifty years," she pointed out. "So it's off limits."
"Okay," he acknowledged.
"Recipes?" Eve asked. He scratched his chin, considering.
"Nothing I make with sourdough," he said. "That reveals the time I spent with Carl the Hermit."
"I can't reveal Carl the Hermit?"
"He's a hermit. I'm not sure if they have a file on him. If not, I'm not going to start one."
They went on down the list. Eve lost interest and rolled off the desk. She kicked the ball and then started chasing it. It bounced off a chair leg and down the stairs. She bounded after.
Voices rose overhead as she reached the landing. She paused and paid closer attention.
"Feudal Age, fine, there EDITED!. And what's so wrong with calling it the Middle Ages?"
"Middle of what?" Lincoln replied. "I was there. We didn't think we were in the middle of any goddamned thing!"
Eve shrugged and ran after the ball.
-----------
They watched from the window as she got into the limo with Wayne. Wherever she was going, he was determined to treat her with style.
The driver loaded her bags while Wayne handed her into the back. She waved out the window, then they pulled away from the curb.
"What's that?" he asked, nodding at the gift-wrapped package in her hands. "A going away gift?"
"Oh, that," she sighed. "I got a ten minute lecture on hygiene." He coughed, not sure he had heard her correctly. "Immortals can't get a girl pregnant," she said in an imitation of Lincoln's lecturing tone. "And they can spread disease, but only if they move very, very quickly between partners.
"It's pretty much impossible outside of an orgy or multiple sex slaves." She shook her head, bemused but not embarrassed.
"Why did he....?" Wayne asked.
"He's afraid I've grown lax since I started dating an Immortal, and I needed to be reminded." She hefted the box. "And they gave me a packet of condoms."
Wayne coughed and turned away. He was horribly embarrassed. Too late, Destiny realized she'd used the wrong pronoun. It should have been, 'HE gave me...'
The subject clouded Wayne's judgment at the critical moment, but this was going to be harder than she'd thought.
-------
Back inside, Eve jumped down from the window sill and looked up at her boss. "So, now what?"
"Today's stamina," he said. "Running and swimming."
"No, no," she said. "Are we going to kill each other without her?"
He looked straight down at her. She didn't cower, even under the giant's regard. "She's not gone forever," he said. "Do you blame me for her leaving?"
"No."
"Then we'll be okay."
"Okay," Eve said. She nodded firmly, possibly to convince herself. They started walking towards the stairs. "So what about Wednesdays?"
"What about Wednesdays?"
"You stopped going out to have sex when Destiny moved in."
"You thought I was going out for sex?" he asked. He paused on the stairs to look down at her. She looked surprised. He backed up a bit until their eyes were even. "I used to go to my other condo, the one with the library, and read."
"You were next door?"
"Of course."
Her brow furrowed. "You didn't go out regularly and get laid?"
"No," he said. He turned and started down again. "It is possible for humans, or creatures that can pass for humans, to go some time without sexual intercourse."
"Oh. That's good," she said, hopping down in his wake.
"Why's that?" he asked.
"Well, since Destiny cut you off, then there's no one left for you to- EEP!"
She squeaked as he spun around and snatched her up into the air. His grip around her hips was firm, but not painfully tight. His eyes locked on hers and he gazed deeply into her soul.
Two fingers stroked her back, running from her shoulder blades to the small of her back, with little circles just above the cheeks of her ass.
"Ummmmmmm," she moaned. She remembered touches like these... But they were best when they could lead to-
He lifted her to his face, tilting her whole body to one side. His head tilted to the other. His lips parted and rested lightly against her lower face.
There was light rubbing, squeezing, as his lips pressed her face gently, so gently. The heat seemed to flow from him all the way into her brain. She responded, opening her mouth and extending her tongue to lick at him, at his lips.
Her hands rested on his cheeks and stroked firmly. She sighed, melting into him. Far more than the fighting or the cuddling, she was connecting to another person in a very real, very visceral way.
And for the first time since she'd beheaded Lincoln, she felt herself warming up to the idea of being intimate with another being. Hanging in midair, touching him at her face and hips, she lifted one heel and tried to remember to breathe.
Then he lowered her to the carpet. "Traditionally, I don't sleep with my students," he said. "But as a technical matter, you shouldn't consider it something that's impossible for us." He turned and went quickly down.
She stared at the retreating back, then the descending head visible through the railings.
She ran across the step, jumping into the space between the flights. "Come back here!" she shouted.
Screamed.
He quickly assumed a defensive pose. He couldn't quite wipe the smile off his face.
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.Duel