Chapter 7

Heather and Rachel--New York--1989

It never stopped amazing Rachel at how fast time could fly by. It seemed like only yesterday that Heather had been deposited into her living room by some young lawyer after Brenda had died suddenly. Eight years of laughter courtesy of her adopted daughter. Heather was like a breath of fresh air or a whirlwind, depending on what moment you happened to catch her. A soft chuckle escaped Rachel as she tallied up the day's receipts at the store. Many times Heather came with her to the store after school, and each time Rachel brought Heather with her she kept a firm eye peeled on her daughter. Heather was, if anyone looked at her, a picture of sweet innocent youth. Ten years old and full of vitality and energy. What most didn't see was Heather's zest for the unknown. She was always exploring, and often finding herself in trouble. Rachel set down her ink pen a few moments. Something was wrong. It was way too quiet in the store. She couldn't hear Heather's soft humming as she talked to the old portraits or as she hummed to herself while coloring. "Good heavens," thought the still attractive middle-aged woman "What has Heather gotten into now?"

Rachel stood up and turned slowly, her eyes seeking out every corner or area a petite child could hide. Seeing Heather no where she began to look in earnest. A few moments later she noticed that the hidden doorway to her fathers special room had somehow opened. Walking quickly to the entrance she looked inside, her eyes looking about in the dimness for her daughter. Rachel couldn’t decide whether she was totally furious or if she should laugh hysterically when her eyes finally found Heather. There she was, curled peacefully up in what Heather thought to be a plaid blanket, her head pillowed by a set of old bagpipes.

Rachel couldn't help but smile at the coincidence however. That blanket her daughter was so firmly wrapped in was really Connor's family tartan. It was just another of the many things Rachel found to be so like her father. "Strange she would pick that of all things," Rachel thought to herself as she stood watching the sleeping child. Over the last eight years there had been so many moments that Rachel fancied she caught a glimpse of her father in the child. But she knew that was impossible. Connor had explained once to Rachel about what he was, and that he could never have children. It boggled her mind even to this day, but she didn't doubt him. Connor was one of the most admirable honorable men she knew. She missed him so much. That is probably why she saw so much of Connor in a child that Brenda swore was his. Rachel knew it wasn't possible, but a little piece in her wished so hard that it was.

Rachel had never told Connor much about Heather, only that the mother had died when the baby was 2 years old, and that she, Rachel, had adopted her. Strangely, one of the final requests of Brenda in the days before her death was to not tell Connor. Rachel figured that even Brenda knew that Connor probably would take responsibility for the child, and given his circumstances, maybe Brenda was trying even then, to protect Connor and the child both.

Rachel pulled herself back to the present and walked in closer to her daughter. It was time to go home after all so she was going to rouse the child and close up. Her heart dropped into her shoes when she saw what else the child had cuddled up too. Nestled firmly beside Heather was a sword, an old broadsword, one of the best Rachel could tell. Connor was the weapons expert not her. Heather's small hand was clasped tightly around the handle of the sword, as if she were prepared to use it. Rachel shook her head of such fanciful thoughts and begin to walk over to Heather to wake her from what seemed to be a deep sleep and a rather nice dream to judge by the smile on the little girls face.

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Jacob Kell--New York--1981

He had been watching this woman for months, off and on. Just as he had watched the women in Connor's life before this. It didn't seem unusual to him at least for Connor to have gone missing. It made him laugh though to think this woman had at one time cheated on the Highlander, but that in and of itself would come to be useful to him one day. He wasn't sure when or how, and right now it didn't matter. The only thought in his mind was to wreak pain and anguish on Connor MacLeod, in the only way he knew how. He had to pay, Macleod did for what he had done. And pay he would the man thought, yes Connor would pay and pay and pay.

Connor--New York-1981

New York. It was good to be back in New York. The letter he had received in New Orleans was certainly cryptic. The note held few words or clues as to what was up or who the sender was. It was a curiosity. The note simply said BE There along with the address where he was supposed to. It was typed in bold face print. You'll find this fun! That was all that was written.

Hell, it was probably Duncan up to some weird joke. Duncan for all his charm could be a practical jokester. His thoughts turned inward as the plan begin its journey towards the city he had called home for over a century. New York, home to his adopted daughter Rachel. He had missed her so over the last two years. Although he had called her regularly, he missed seeing her. Hell he missed the shop. His thoughts turned to Brenda. Maybe he would stop in to see her. Hopefully she wouldn't hate him too much when he appeared. First off however, he had to take care of this meeting, and see what it was that Duncan might want. He knew as well that it might not be Duncan. He would be careful. It is how he'd kept his head for so long.

Connor looked at his watch. Right on time, an unusual thing for him usually. He glanced up and down the boulevard, expecting Duncan or some other immortal from his past to just pop up. He extended his senses far out and felt nothing. His soft hazel eyes scanned the surrounding throngs slowly and fell upon a lady in red. Lady in Red.. not just any lady, Brenda. A soft smile lit his face. "How fortuitous," Connor thought as he lifted his hand to call a greeting to her. At just that moment a black car came speeding from nowhere and rammed into Brenda, catapulting her 20 feet away. Once again as in times past his immortal sense caught wind of something strong, something that made him sicker than the immortal buzz usually did.

"Dammit!" Connor thought as he turned and quickly went the other way, his thoughts a jumble as yet another person he loved met a untimely and violent death. Connor faded into the crowd, his face tormented, his soul crushed. It had happened again. So many times in his past a loved one died tragically. He had began to feel cursed, but not by witches or demons. No, this was too thorough. he knew his curse had a name. And until now it had not found Rachel. And wouldn't if he had anything to do with it. The reunion with his daughter now canceled, Connor made his way back to the airport.

Chapter 5

Heather and Brenda--New York--1981

Two years flew by. Brenda didn't keep track of the days. She had her life and it was full. Her days were taken up with her job, her new novel she was working on, and her daughter Heather. Heather was such a beautiful child. Her hair now more a reddish gold than blonde, her eyes such a soft green, and always crinkled up in a smile, as long as her favorite teddy bear was near. For days upon end now Brenda's mind could be kept off Connor and how she missed him. In some ways though he was always present, in the hint of a smile on Heather's face, or certain ways her little laugh would echo. There could be no doubt in Brenda's mind, that if anyone saw Heather, and if they knew Connor, that they could tell whose child she was.

There was a dark shadow in her happy full days though. She wasn't sure exactly what it was, but things just didn't feel right. She couldn't quite put a finger on it, but things were off somehow. She felt followed, as if eyes were on her everywhere she went. She tried to put this unease down to over worked nerves, or stress over her new book. She always got a bit panicky when in a dead heat to finish a book according to schedule. But it was there... that presence, whatever it was, and it made her feel uneasy. It also made her more cautious, more mindful of the future, both for herself and for Heather. Her thoughts turned often to what would happen to her small daughter if something was to happen to her.

As she sat by her window, watching the New York street below, much as she had done for months in hopes that Connor would return, Brenda thought she saw someone watching her apartment. Blinking her eyes rapidly she looked again at that shadowy place again and saw nothing. An icy chill ran up and down her spine. She was sure someone had been standing there."Just nerves old girl. Nothing there." It was enough however to spur her into action. Brenda began to make plans for Heather's future. She wouldn't worry over much, but she would make sure that her daughter was always taken care of, just in case.

The next morning Brenda placed a call to her attorney, setting up an appointment. She explained in a few short sentences that she wanted to set up a new will with provisions for her daughter, and to set up god parents or guardians for Heather should something happen to her. Although the attorney was glad to do this for her he kept trying to assure Brenda that she had plenty of time to take care of such things. Brenda was adamant about it. The meeting had to be today no later. She wanted this taken care of. With a soft chuckle the attorney agreed and named a time after lunch for Brenda to meet him in his office.

Brenda then placed a call to Rachel. It had been years since she had spoken to Connor's adopted daughter. Mostly because she was sure that Rachel would never believe that Heather was Connor's daughter. Right now however she had no choice, and Rachel was just going to have to bloody well deal with it.

Rachel and Brenda--New York--1981

Brenda stood before the doors of the restaurant, mentally preparing herself for this next meeting. It was not going to be an easy one. She was pretty sure of that. She was so engrossed in her own thoughts, she didn't see the man dressed all in black watching her from across the street. Taking a deep breath she walked into the restaurant, her eyes restlessly moving over the room. Seeing Rachel, whom she'd come to meet, she walked over to her.

"Hello Rachel, long time no see."

"Hello Brenda. You look well. But how are you, really? I'm fine by the way. Still married to Jake quite happily.. Have a seat if you will. I've ordered tea already but waited for you to arrive before placing any other order."

"Tea is fine Rachel," said Brenda, "in fact, after I start talking you may not even want to wait to order."

Rachel looked at Brenda curiously. She wondered what on earth would suddenly have Brenda Wyatt contact her after all these years. She had assumed after the first few months, when all contact drizzled off that Brenda had moved on with her life, had gotten over Connor. In thinking that Rachel had decided to never tell Brenda that Connor had been contacting her, his daughter from time to time.

Brenda took a deep breath and looked Rachel square in the eyes. "I have a favor to ask of you. Trust me what I am about to tell you is going to blow your mind. Then you are going to doubt me and then Rachel, if we are lucky.. you are going to look at me and realize I am telling the truth. It is not easy what I am about to say. I have carried this secret for over 2 years now. But recently I have decided I need to take care of things and get my life in order.

Rachel looked at Brenda a bit surprised. She remembered Brenda as being a very forthright type of lady. But after she removed herself from Rachel's life, Rachel wasn't so sure what Brenda was all about. Taking a deep breath she muttered softly, "Why don't you just tell me then Brenda? I'm sure whatever it is is't so terribly awful."


Brenda looked at Rachel and smiled. Reaching over for the pot of tea that the waiter had just brought to the table she poured herself and Rachel a cup. "In for a penny, in for a pound," Brenda thought to herself as she began to speak.

The story Brenda told Rachel had Rachel reeling. In some ways she simply did not believe Brenda. The idea was totally impossible. But Brenda seemed so sure, so damned assured of what she was saying. Rachel listened intently, her eyes on her cup of tea that she kept stirring and stirring without ever taking a sip.

The next words that Brenda Spoke stopped Rachel completely, stunned her so badly that it took many long minutes to react.

"I want you to take care of Heather if something should ever happen to me Rachel. I've written a little journal for my daughter, well I've started one really, and I want you to be the guardian of both." Brenda watched Rachel closely as she slide the manila envelope towards Rachel.

For many long moments Rachel simply stared at Brenda, not knowing what to say. Finally she looked up and with her soft cultured voice replied, "Well Brenda she is family, and we always take care of our family. I'll be glad to take over the care of," Rachel hesitated for just a brief second, "Father's little girl, if something should ever happen to you."

Brenda let out a sigh of relief. Although she was quite sure that Rachel didn't quite believe her, she hadn't refused to do what was asked of her. For now Brenda knew this was all she could hope for. She stood up and held out her hand to Rachel. "Thanks Rachel. You have relieved a great burden for me."

Rachel smiled and stood up. "I am honored that you considered me worthy to be a guardian of Heather should something happen to you Brenda.

The two ladies made their way out of the restaurant. "Well Rachel, who else would I trust? You are her sister you know."

With those words Brenda headed to the curb to hail a cab. She was at peace within her self that she had gotten things arranged. Now if something ever happened in the future she wouldn't have to worry about her little girl.

Chapter 4

Brenda--New York--Late 1978

Brenda sighed softly, her hands gently rubbing her burgeoning belly. Her time was close, she knew that. It wouldn't be much longer before her child...Connor's child would be born.

"Ah, Connor, Connor. Where are you? You said in the letter you would try to return. But you haven't. 8 months have passed with no word from you."

Brenda's soft words echoed in the now empty apartment. Who would have thought that she would have been going through this alone? She was so sure that the father of her child would have been so happy to know he was a father. But he didn't even know about the child. He had disappeared without a trace on the day that Brenda had learned of her pregnancy. Connor.. even thinking of the name was enough to elicit a soft sad smile. Such a wonderful man. So worldly and wise, yet at times he seemed to have knowledge that went past his age.

A soft groan escaped her as the baby kicked hard against her ribs. "Eager aren't you little one? To escape your confines, and strong, yes, strong you would be.. considering who you are. I hope and pray you are the best of both of us. Your fathers wit and speed.. he was so athletic you know. My love of learning and of all things ancient."

With a soft chuckle her mind stopped a moment to remember how Connor once said he was immortal and couldn't die.. how he had been alive for over 400 years.

"Well little one, if all your father said was true.. how could I not have loved him eh?" Her thoughts turned inward as her eyes looked out of the window . She often sat there in the window seat. Of course she was watching for Connor to return, even though she knew there was probably no chance of that ever happening. She had grown to realize that over the months. He wasn't coming back. Not now.. not ever.

"Well little baby, I won't do you wrong, and I will teach you about your father, when the time is right." Brenda sighed, just as sure of that as she was of not being able to tell any child of everything her daddy claimed.

The idea hit her then. She couldn't tell a child or anyone of Connor while she was still alive. But she, Brenda Wyatt was a published author wasn't she? She could write a love novel for her child and then give it to her child when her child grew up.

Yes indeed.. She could do that. She would write down everything she remembered of Connor. All his words all his actions.. All the history she knew of Connor MacLeod. She would leave it with someone she trusted, a lawyer perhaps, NO.. with Rachel! She would leave it with Rachel and when her child was old enough Rachel could give it too her once she felt the time was right.

Brenda smiled and slowly pushed herself out of the chair by the window. "No time like the present to get started old girl. The baby will be here before you know it. Once the baby is here you wont have much time to write and you know it." Laughing softly Brenda made her way out of the apartment and to her favorite shop to buy all she needed to write her little novel about Connor.

Brenda--New York--1979

Brenda put down her pen, having finished yet another page of all she wanted to say to her soon to be born child about Connor. Once she started writing it seemed the words just flowed from her mind to the paper. She explained all she knew. She wrote with a passion that she never knew she had in her. Using her friends research from months back she researched name upon name, each one slowly but surely erasing all the nagging doubts that she had let build up over the months.

No longer could she pretend to herself that Connor was normal. No longer could she laugh to herself and think him a bit daft. From all she had seen; pictures, drawings, articles, handwriting analysis, she had grown to believe that Connor was indeed all he said he was. She knew now for a fact that everything that happened that night at the SilverCup roof had indeed happened. It wasn't a dream, it wasn't a fantasy. It was fact. It had happened.

As she wrote her final words on the last page, she theorized that something about the Game had driven Connor away. She was now more sure than ever that he might never return, and if he did return, he might never believe that the child she carried was his. Why should he believe? He had said once immortals couldn't have children. But after the Kurgan quickening he said that he could. Would he believe or not? She didn't know. She could take no chances right now with telling anyone whose child this was. For the most part she feared that many would believe her unfaithful to Connor's love. Something she had not been, nor never would be.

A sharp pain raced down her spine and into her belly causing Brenda to gasp suddenly. The pain was bad enough to cause her to drop the ink pen she had been writing with. As the pain subsided she again picked up her pen and wrote a few final sentences. She wrote passionately and truthfully, asking of her child one simple plea.

Over the next few hours, Brenda had no doubt that she was going into labor. Slowly she pushed herself off of the chair at her desk. Brenda then reached over to take a manila envelope in hand. Picking up her love novel about Connor. she carefully slid the handwritten pages into the envelope and sealed it. Walking into her lonely bedroom, she picked up her suitcase. Slipping the envelope into the folder she put on her coat and walked out the door to hail a cab, hoping against hope she would make it to the hospital in time.

Heather--New York--1979

The Doctor smiled and laid a small blanketed bundle on Brenda's chest. "Ms. Wyatt, let me introduce you to your daughter," he said with a soft smile. Brenda brushed a weary but gentle hand over the soft blonde fuzz of her daughter's head. Her tired eyes looked up at the doctor with an ages old question written in their depths.

"Your daughter is fine and healthy ma'am. As a matter of fact she is quite the little fighter. She has a healthy set of lungs and if I dont miss my guess is going to lend you a merry chase one day." The doctor answered the question with a smile. already knowing what Brenda needed to hear. "She has all 10 fingers and toes and from what I can see is a most exquisite child. Do not fear, she's fine."

Brenda smiled softly and cuddled her small daughter to her. With a soft voice she settled the name she had chosen upon this small gift granted her. "Your name will be Heather. Heather Nash MacLeod."

Chapter 3

Rachel--New York--1978

Rachel slipped the keys to the store into the lock and opened the door. Her right hand automatically went up to turn off the security alarm and flip on the lights to the show floor. Taking off her coat as she made her way to her desk she smiled, knowing that her father, although always late, would surely make his way into the shop just in time to have missed most of the inventory.

Laughing softly to herself she sat down at her desk and slipped her purse into the lower right drawer as usual. As she did, her eyes moved over her desk taking in what paper work she had to do that morning. Her eyes stopped on a simple white envelope with her name on the front in her fathers hand writing. "Oh, so not gonna show up at all for inventory is that it Dad?", she thought as she went to open the envelope. With a soft gasp she read the letter over and over, hardly believing what her eyes were seeing.

My Dearest Rachel,

It is with a sad and heavy heart that I must tell you this. I know I said it a few weeks earlier, and that it did not come to pass, but as of today it has. Russell Nash dies today. But then you knew he would. I had explained that to you years ago. You already know what my real name is and how to contact me should some disaster occur. I explained in length that night why I would have to go. You my daughter are the only person that knows the true reasons why I have to go.

It hurts me more than words can express that I have to leave, but I can leave now with a less heavy heart as you have found Jake. He will take care of you. Of this much I know. Remember, you are always my daughter. You are special like no other.

I am sure Brenda will seek you out, try to not tell her too much my daughter. Brenda will fret too much. You know all that she saw that night, and why I have spent time with her up until now, reassuring her that it was all just some wild flight of her imagination. She will need you more in the days to come I am sure.

I also have deeded the antique shop into your name. I trust you to run it as I would. All that I ask is that you keep my inner room safe, and all the items within it. They are still my memories and of my past in some way or another.

I trust you to handle it Rachel. You are the only one who can.

With all my love,
Your father,
Connor.

Rachel couldn't think. She always knew this day would happen. She just didn't expect it so soon. Rachel took a deep cleansing breath, and fought the tears that threatened to stain the letter and the papers on her desk. Carefully folding the note back into the envelope she placed it carefully into her purse. Standing up she walked around the shop, composing herself, making her self ready to forge into her future with her father gone.

Brenda and Rachel--New York--1978

Brenda stepped out of the taxi and looked up at Nash Antiques, a whirlwind of emotions playing out on her face. She remembered well the day Connor took her into his round room and proceeded to put a dagger in her hand and stab himself. Even though Brenda had convinced herself that this was all a show and the dagger wasn't real, the emotions that played out that day were real. She remembered it all with clarity. Taking a deep breath she walked up to the front door of the shop and let herself in.

"Rachel? Are you here?" Brenda's husky breathless voice called out through the reaches of the deceptively large shop.

"Rachel? Its Brenda! I really need to talk to you!" Brenda called out again as she'd gotten no response to the first question.

"I'm in the back Brenda. One Moment," came Rachel's finely cultivated voice from the back of the shop.

As Rachel stood from the inventory, she pushed her hair back out of her eyes gracefully. She did not look forward to this meeting. Indeed she knew it was going to be one of the hardest meetings she'd ever had. As she made her way to the front of the store, her soft blue eyes swept over Brenda Wyatt. What she saw broke her heart. Brenda was pale as a ghost, her eyes shadowed with a pain that Rachel could only guess at. Yes, she had lost her father, but she still had her Jake. Brenda had no one now.

"Hello Brenda, I won't ask how you are doing. I';m pretty sure I know that answer."

A soft laugh escaped Brenda unaware "If you only knew Rachel. If you only knew." Brenda looked at Rachel intently. " Listen if you have any idea where your Father is. Id really like to know. I have news I need to tell him. Its important. His disappearance is really most ill timed."

Rachel looked at Brenda with a deep sadness. "I wish I could tell you Brenda. But I can't. I don't know myself where he went. He did this sometimes, when he needed to escape. But he has never done it when involved with someone. I don't know how to help you. I wish I did. but I don't."

Brenda sighed softly. She had hoped against hope that Rachel would know. Of course, Rachel had no ideas of where Connor had disappeared too and with that knowledge Brenda knew that she was just going to have to deal with her little predicament alone.

Brenda looked at Rachel a long moment. "I'm sorry, I know you've lost your father. That's got to be as hard as me losing the man I love. I hope that over time we can continue being friends."

Rachel smiled at the younger woman. "Of course Brenda. Father would have it no other way."

Brenda smiled at Rachel and turned to walk out of the shop, to try to forge a new life. She knew she would be unable to forget Connor, especially now, but there was something more important she had to concentrate on. Yes, there was definitely something more important to concentrate on.

Chapter 2

Rachel--New York--1978

Rachel's day began like any other day in the busy city she called home. She woke early that day, wanting to get to the antique store early. After all it was inventory time, and she was the only employee of her adoptive father's store. He didn't trust too many people with knowledge about his life, and even she wasn&'t so sure about parts of it. All she knew was that he had adopted her nearly 40 years ago and had raised her as his own. There were many times that she wondered about the man she called Father. He never seemed to grow older or change at all. He did look as young as when she first met him. She loved him dearly though and would never question him too much about his past. She knew that his past caused him pain however. All too often she would catch a glimpse of him when he wasn't looking and she could see the pain etched memories in his eyes. She often teased him out of his depressions with a joke about how he should bottle his youthful appearance formula. He would often burst out in a soft laugh and say "Aye Rachel, if I only could we'd be richer than we already are. But daughter along with this youthful face comes many a curse, and I would not wish that on a soul." Many was the time Rachel wished he would finally tell her his secrets, as she knew he had more secrets than most men, but she held her counsel. She loved her father after all, and his life was his own. That did not mean that she couldn't wish for him to tell her though.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts of the past, Rachel went into the kitchen to brew up a morning pot of tea before getting ready to go in and open the store. It was, after all going to be a very busy day.

As Rachel showered her thoughts again turned to her life with her father. She had never thought to marry, until late in her life. Taking care of her adoptive dad seemed to her to be more important. She had a great love of antiques, as did her father Russell. He had a knack for finding the most beautiful objects of art and furniture from some of the oddest sources, which he would never name. Although he seemed to specialize in antique weaponry, his shop carried a bit of it all. He stored his favorite things, along with his memories in a secret round room behind one of the shelves, which was always off-limits to Rachel, but she respected his space and never tried to inventory that.

Finally at the age of 30 she had met and fallen in love with a man named Jake Ellenstein, who loved her more than life and respected her father greatly. Their life together for the last 10 years had been full and happy. The only marring of sadness on their otherwise happy marriage was the absence of children. Rachel fretted never giving Jake a child, but he constantly reassured her that she, Rachel, was all he needed. Rachel remembered voicing her despair over her childlessness to her father once and his words stayed with her always. "Ah, Rachel, I understand you far more than you know. I have never been able to have a child of my own, but I have learned over time that there are many out there needing a family. Remember Daughter, I adopted you and I love you as if you were my own. This will happen for you as well, in the right time and place." Her father then hugged her in that strong bear hug way that made her dizzy and smiled at her. "Don't worry Rachel. You will be a wonderful mother when you are ready to be."

Brenda--New York--1978

Angry, that's what she was, angry. Connor had never stood her up before, yet here it was, nearly 2 p.m. in the afternoon and he had never arrived for their lunch at their favorite restaurant. "Well, he is going to get a GOOD piece of my mind as soon as I see him. How dare he not show up at all??" Brenda knew that time had no meaning for Connor, and she loved him none the less for it. Many a time he would be thirty minutes late then arrive with a soft embarrassed laugh and say "Sorry love, I forgot the time." She always forgave him, but he'd never forgotten to show up at all before. Her anger gave way to worry in the next few minutes. New York wasn't such a safe place, that psycho Kurgan was proof of that. A little shiver passed over her as she wondered if Connor had an accident or something as equally as bad happen to keep him from showing up. All thoughts of her good news vanished as she turned and hurriedly caught a taxi, wanting to get home to see if he had left her a message, or just in case a phone call came telling her he was in some hospital or another after being robbed.

As she sped home her mind ran the gamut of every conceivable bad thing that could have happened to Connor before he could meet her. Brenda had worked herself up into a righteous paranoia about his absence. The thought that he was hurt wiped away any anger she was feeling over his lateness. The taxi screeched to a halt in front of her brownstone, and Brenda hopped out of the cab paying the driver far more than what the ride is worth. She turned and hurried up to her building without a backwards glance. As the cabby drove off he muttered about crazy women and their lack of respect for money. Brenda never heard or cared one bit about any of it. Her only thoughts centered on Connor and his absence.

Brenda hurried into her apartment and went straight to the answering machine. She waded through a lot of useless messages from friends inviting her and Connor to different functions, but found no messages from Connor. "What the hell has happened to that man?"; she thought as she turned to put her coat on the coat stand. She turned as she always did, out of pure habit, to check her hair and makeup in the mirror there. As she looked up she saw an envelope on the mirror. The only word on the front was Brenda, and it was in Connor's writing. She quickly took the envelope from the mirror and opened it. One single sheet of paper fluttered out. Opening the folded page with both curiosity she begin to read. What she saw on the page filled her heart with a mixture of anger, despair and grief.

My Dearest Brenda,

What I have to say now is not easy, has never been easy for me. There is never an easy way to say goodbye, and that is what I must do. I have to move on now. Never think that it is anything you did or didn't do. It has nothing to do with you. I love you and probably always will. But circumstances which are beyond my control at the moment dictate that I have to leave town. How long I will be gone is not known. I will try to return to you my fair Brenda. You are one special woman, someone that I have grown to respect and love like none other. I hate to the depths of my heart to have to leave you so suddenly.

Know that I have made arrangements so that you will always be taken care of. You can do your research with no worries for money or a place to live. The brownstone is now in your name, and you have a sizable monthly income to spend.

I will always love you and I will try to return..

Connor

Brenda was stunned. He was gone! Just like that, no warnings no fights no reasons, just Gone to who knows where. He would never know her news now. She wondered for a moment or two if he had found out and that was why he left. Brenda dashed those thoughts quickly, after all there was Rachel, the lady in the antique store. According to Connor and Rachel both he had taken care of Rachel for years. RACHEL!! She could go to Rachel and find out. Surely Rachel would know what had become of Connor. Yes, Rachel should know.

Chapter 1

Brenda, New York--1978--

Brenda stood on 5th Avenue impatiently waiting for Connor to arrive. She had some mighty important news to tell him. Their trip to Scotland after Kurgan's rather explosive death was productive in more ways than one. She smiled a soft smile because she knew in her heart that Connor, a man alone for so long, who had longed for family and a place to mostly be settled in would finally see that come to pass. With Kurgan's Death, he now had No reasons to fear loving again. No-one could come out of the wood work again to cast a shadow over his life.

Impatiently she stamped her foot in the cold crisp winter air wondering for the hundredth time why he was so late. Thoughts of quickenings and sword battles were far from her mind. After all, Connor had won the Prize hadn't he? He was the final immortal standing.

She still had a bit of a problem with the whole immortal idea. It was so very ludicrous sounding when you thought about it. People born with the ability to never die. The only way you could kill them was to unceremoniously cut off their head in some endless silly battle called a Game. To her it just seemed crazy. There were times when her logical police woman's brain thought that Connor was a bit daft. That his love of antiques had went to his brain. She remembered with crystal clarity the day he put a dagger into her hand and had her push it into his chest. She watched as he supposedly died and came back.. But really, it wasn't possible. Even as she saw all the happenings in those short but eventful days, her logical mind simply put a new explanation on everything. Connor used a fake stage knife on her, one of those break away types. As for Kurgan.. he didn't really lose his head.. it just seemed that way from her spot in the corner of the SilverCup roof. As for the explosions rocking the place afterwards, her mind had totally convinced itself that those were simply gas leaks and explosions.

Connor--New York--1978

Connor MacLeod stood 5 blocks away from Brenda watching her as she stood impatiently awaiting his arrival. He could tell by the look on her face that she was extremely irritated by his apparent lateness. He loved her, but at times he didn't know quite what to make of her. She was a modern lady. Things didn't phase her as it had so many people in the past. She was persistent too. He had to give her that, as a small smile fleetingly traced his serious yet handsome face. He was in a quandary about Brenda. He did love her, as he could love, just as he loved his adopted daughter Rachel. There were times when he was glad that Brenda had convinced herself that the facts about being immortal was nonsense. It was especially important that she keep believing immortals didn't exist.

The Game wasn't Over as he had thought. He had learned this little bit of information one day when he happened upon Leah. Strange woman that Leah was. He caught her following him around, but always in such a way as she thought he wouldn't see her. If he bought a cup of coffee she was there writing away in a little notebook. Being immortal he had adopted a state of high awareness over the centuries of anyone watching or following him, but this Leah took watching him to a new level. He could tell she was not immortal, he had gotten close enough to her over time to take a good reading of that, no immortal buzz coming from her.

He remembered well the day he confronted her finally. He was a private man for all intents and purposes, and even a daffy crazed woman that loved antiques and wrote all about him was just finally too much to bear. After much talk or arguing as he saw it he learned what her duties were. A watcher, a person that actually got paid to watch and chronicle his life as an immortal. It seemed all immortals had a watcher. The group had been around nearly as long as Immortals themselves, however long that was. Connor was still unsure of how immortals came to be and even this watcher, Leah, didn't seem to know.Strange business indeed, He thought to himself,but then, no stranger than immortals themselves.

Connor yanked himself back to the present day and his worries over what to do about Brenda and Rachel too for that matter. He had come to realize recently, after speaking at length with Leah the Watcher, that the Game wasn't over. He learned with joy filled surprise, that clansmen Duncan MacLeod, was still alive, although he had not seen him for nearly 80 years. Their last meeting was in Paris, France nearly 80 years ago. He had thought, as he'd not heard from Duncan in over half a century that Duncan had lost his head to a better swordsmen. But no, Duncan was very much alive, and still the same honorable Scot as always. The joy of learning his fellow clansmen was alive was overshadowed by his now present dilemma. What to do about Brenda and Rachel? The idea that the two women he loved could very well get in the way of yet another immortal fight was an anathema to his soul. He knew in his heart that the time had come to disappear again, to take upon himself a new identity. Russell Nash would have to disappear now. He only hoped that Rachel and Brenda would find it in their hearts to forgive him some day somehow.

Connor turned away from Brenda and strode off in the opposite direction. He had little time to gather what things he would take with him and contact the lawyers that always helped him prepare for his disappearances. Many weeks ago he had included instructions in his will for Brenda's care, just as he had for Rachel. That was one positive thing that came with immortality. He was able to accumulate a large amount of wealth and resources over his long unending life. Since he could not be with them himself, all Connor could do was make sure they would never have to worry about their futures. There was no doubt in his mind to leave Rachel the antiques store. She loved that so much, and as for Brenda, well she was always looking some elusive sword or another so he would make sure she could continue her research with no worries over money. He knew it would never be enough, the money, but that and a short note saying goodbye was all he would leave. It was how it had always been, and he doubted that it would change anytime in the future.

Cast of Characters

Connor MacLeod

Born in the Highlands of Scotland Near Glenfinnan by the shores of Loch Sheil in the year 1518.He became immortal in the year of 1536 and was cast out of his clan for being a demon after his sudden resurrection after his first death. He moved to Glenn Furin and married Heather, whom he called Blossom. During his years in New York, he called himself Russell Nash.

Duncan MacLeod
Adopted by the chieftain of the MacLeod family after his birth in 1592. During a battle in 1622 he was killed and become immortal. He has wandered the world ever since, although in the last 25 years he seems to have found a home in both Paris, France and Seacouver, Washington USA ((close to Seattle best this author can figure out)).

Methos (aka Adam Pierson)

At the lofty age of 5000 years old, is known to only few. To most immortals and watchers alike Methos is a Legend, a myth. In his incarnation as Adam Pierson, Methos became a Watcher responsible for researching the myth of Methos. ((At which he said once, "what better job can I have? I am in charge of finding myself and I make sure it never happens!" Methos/Adam was a watcher for over 10 years, until there came a time that it was found out that he was immortal himself. His timeline is so lengthy and so complex it seems that no one could monitor it all ((but we all can try))

Heather MacLeod (Blossom)

Connors first love and wife. Connor lived with her until her death. Connor always lights a candle for her on her birthday, due to a promise she garnered from him on the day of her death.

Rachel Ellenstein

Rachel Ellenstein was a small child when Connor MacLeod found her during one of the Great World Wars. Connor then raised Rachel as his own daughter. In later years she became one of his trusted friends and confidantes about his immortality. Adoptive mother of Heather Ellenstein.

Brenda Wyatt

Inquisitive sword specialist that works with the New York Police Department in the early to mid 70's. Became involved with Connor MacLeod during the late 70's.

Jacob Kell

Former priest and friend of Connor MacLeod. When they burned Connor's Mother at the stake in Glennfinnan in 1555, Connor in his despair killed the priest that had raised Kell from a Child. Kell in his rage attacked Connor, causing Kells's first death and subsequent rage and tormenting of Connor through the centuries.

Heather Ellenstein ((aka Heather Nash MacLeod))

A mysterious young woman of unsure parentage in search of who she is. She stands about 5 foot 7 inches, with streaked dirty blonde hair and green eyes. Stubborn to a fault Heather has a great ability to find trouble.

Joe Dawson

Duncan MacLeod's Watcher, who at times needs a watcher himself. Joe tends to forgo following the Watcher's hierarchy of rules when it comes to helping Duncan and his friend Adam, who he knew for years as a watcher, and has recently come to know as Methos. Joe takes the rules and interprets them in his own way. But it works for the good of Duncan himself and Methos. Joe is a extremely proficient blues musician and owns a couple of bars, Joes in Seacouver and Le' Blues Bar in Paris.

Cassandra

Cassandra is a 3000 year old immortal with a very elusive past. We all know she started her immortality at the hands of Methos ((thereby ensuring everlasting anger and rage against the Really old guy)). She is also a known Witch and Healer. She has a verified past with Duncan MacLeod from his Childhood and rumour abounds that shes also been involved with Connor MacLeod although this is not verified in canon.

Endgame etal: Kell's posse, Kate etc..
Various immortals who aided Kell in his quest to hurt immortals and sway the Gathering to his own ends.
Various OCs of the author's invention.

Introduction

Authors Notes:

This story, although for the most part will take place around the time of Endgame, also incorporates a lot of what ifs from the first Movie. What did Connor do after he took The Kurgan's head. What exactly happened to Brenda and Rachel? I have tried to not play with the established happenings ((including the unreleased parts on the Endgame DVD.)) What I tried to do was incorporate all that happened into what I saw happening in my head. The entire group just would NOT hush in my head. It was they who are WRITING the story. I just went along for the ride. Really!! Now before any of you go how could this have been happening, let me reiterate. Only Duncan was really busy during that movie, and I seriously doubt that Joe Dawson, Methos or other people were just standing around willy nilly waiting to help or rescue Duncan. Hence this idea was born.

It is all based on the theory of something Connor said at the very end of the first Highlander movie, how he could now grow old and die.. how he could have children. Although it is standard knowledge that no immortal can procreate.. what if.. in some 1 in a million chance.. Some of them was able too? I mean.. they have gotta come from somewhere.. they dont just appear as babies without being born. Right?

Disclaimer: As stated before, Joe, Methos, Conner et al. are property of Rysher/Panzer David Productions. I only borrowed them lovingly.